I find it hard to believe that we are now in the month of October. Time always moves forward and we are called to do the same, forward towards the Kingdom. Our Holy Father Pope Francis has designated October as an Extraordinary Mission Month. World Mission Sunday is always celebrated in October in the Church, but the Holy Father is calling us to give special attention all month to the Church’s missionary efforts around the world in proclaiming the Gospel and advancing the Kingdom of God. Our own Vicki Compton will have several items in the Weekly during the month of October highlighting the Church’s missionary activity.

As October begins we are also kicking off another year of Adult Faith Formation starting this Monday evening at 7PM in the atrium. I will be presenting on the topic of the Church’s process for the canonization of saints, using our own Venerable Father Tolton’s cause as our case study. This was the topic for my thesis when I finished my license in canon law four years ago. This talk is also timed to coincide with the canonization of Cardinal John Henry Newman by Pope Francis on Sunday, October 13th. Father Rankin will be presenting on Cardinal Newman following his canonization. Please check the Weekly for upcoming dates, times, and topics for Adult Faith Formation.

As you may have seen in the Weekly, we have begun another course of preparation for the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA). Sometimes people want to join the faith and they are simply waiting to be invited. Might someone in your life be one of those people? It’s not too late!

In the area of faith formation, we have launched a new catechetical program for our youth and their families called Family of Faith. This new model is directly intended to help parents fulfill the responsibility that they were given at their child’s baptism to be their child’s first teacher in the faith. At the beginning of each month, one of the priests teaches the parents on a specific topic and the parents then teach that topic to their children. We also have an activity with all the families in the program each month. All adults are invited to the parent formation session at the beginning of each month. Again, times and topics can be found in the Weekly or by calling Vicki in the parish office.

At the end of the month we will kick off another Season of Stewardship when all of us will be invited to examine what we are offering to the Lord regarding our service, prayer, and treasure. At that time we will be a month away for our celebration of Thanksgiving, so it will be an appropriate opportunity for us to examine what our response to God is for the good things that he has done for us.

The weather now seems to give the indication that summer is indeed giving way to fall. As the leaves will begin to fall and the color of creation fade, we must always remember that this is a part of creation’s renewal which is always ongoing. The same is true for us with the grace of God; the Lord is always seeking to renew us. I invite all of us to seek those avenues and opportunities for God’s grace so that each of us, and as a parish family, might become more and more the people that the Lord is calling us to be. God bless you!

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

“Holiness is the most attractive face of the Church,” Pope Francis says in his Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate (9). When the members of the Body of Christ live an authentic Christian life, they help build up the kingdom of God (CCC, 2044-2045). In my many travels to Mission lands, I met so many holy men and women, lay, Ordained and Religious who were building the Kingdom through large and small acts of love. I know a Bishop in Kenya who has built a medical school so that local men and women can be trained to provide healthcare to his impoverished people. I know a priest in India who despite writing books, hosting a television show, teaching at the seminary and pastoring a large parish plus 15 mission parishes, made time every Sunday morning to greet the homeless men and women at his gate and provide them each with a bit of money so they could buy breakfast. I met laypeople in Tanzania who gather monthly in someone’s home to read the Word of God, pray for each other and discuss ways of helping their neighbors who are in need. The first time I ever heard about human trafficking, modern day slavery, was from a Religious Sister in Michigan who had been working for years with other Sisters to raise awareness and provide relief to victims. Our local orders of Sisters, lay missioners and priests from our diocese have served or are serving in remote areas of Haiti, Tanzania, Brazil, Peru, Japan, El Salvador, on Native American Reservations and at the border bringing the hope and healing of Jesus Christ to our most vulnerable neighbors.

Week Two Challenge:

We are provided with the testimonies of missionary saints, martyrs, and witnesses to the faith to draw us ever deeper in our relationship with God and strengthen our own proclamation of the Gospel. Spend some time researching the life of a missionary witness – St. Francis Xavier, Anna Maria Dengel, Daniele Comboni, Fr. Andrew Kim and the Korean martyrs, Sr. Dorothy Stang, Dr. Tom Catena, Francis Xavier Ford, Jean Donovan or another missionary here http://www.october2019.va/en/ testimoni.html#paginationinit

Question to Ponder:

In his Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate, Pope Francis says to each one of us, “May you come to realize what that word is, the message of Jesus that God wants to speak to the world by your life. Let yourself be transformed. Let yourself be renewed by the Spirit, so that this can happen, lest you fail in your precious mission. The Lord will bring it to fulfilment despite your mistakes and missteps, provided that you do not abandon the path of love but remain ever open to his supernatural grace, which purifies and enlightens.” (24)

How is the Lord shaping the “word” He wants to speak to the world by your life?

If your parish is hoping to meet people where they are, then implementing a bereavement ministry program is a good starting point. I had the privilege of working in bereavement ministry for the Archdiocese of St. Louis, and saw the benefits such a ministry could have if done well. Here are five reasons to include bereavement ministry, or grief ministry, in your parish.

1. Jesus told us to comfort those who mourn.
   Jesus says in the Beatitudes, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” There are mourners in your parish. Will you comfort them?

   In fact, the Bible is sprinkled with mentions of grief and mourning. Jesus himself mourned after the death of Lazarus, and supported the dead man’s family in their grief. St. Cyprian once said:
   “How can a man say that he believes in Christ, if he does not do what Christ commanded him to do? From where will he attain the reward of faith, if he will not keep the faith of the commandment? … He will make no advancement in his walk toward salvation, for he does not keep the truth of the way of salvation” (The Treatises of Cyprian, Treatise I, ch. II). Our quest to be Christ-like shouldn’t neglect how Jesus approached grief and the grieving.

2. It applies to everyone at some point.
   Everyone dies, so it stands to reason that just about everyone will, in fact, have someone close to them die at some point in their life. Most of us will have many people die, and we will struggle horribly after some of them. No one goes through life without grief.

   That is why a ministry for those who are grieving is such a good thing. Other than birth and taxes, grief is the only thing guaranteed to effect every parishioner at some point.

3. It’s what people are looking for.
   Major upheavals bring people to faith. Death causes us to think about what comes after this life. Funerals pull lapsed Catholics back into Church, sometimes for the first time in decades. All of these are very good reasons to be prepared to minister to the grieving.

   Catholics Come Home has a great collection of resources for people brought to the Church because of grief, which may be helpful for anyone leading a grief ministry. But perhaps the best thing a parish can do is provide a home for the grieving. Give people a space to tell the story of their grief, and see that they can find a community to support them. That is evangelization at its finest.

   One parish I worked with had a dedicated bereavement team who would make sure the church was prepared for every funeral. They would place tissue boxes in the pews and have people on hand to answer any questions. They would reach out to the family after the funeral and ask if they would like to receive bereavement resources in the mail. The family would receive resources on prayers, remembrance services, simple self-care steps, and a card on the anniversary of the death. They were also invited to join a grief ministry group.

   The woman in charge of the resources said she wanted to make sure her fellow parishioners were never alone in their grief. She wanted them to know that they were welcome at the parish even when they felt messy and distraught.

4. It’s easy.
   We’re in the midst of a small-group renaissance. There are so many support systems for people who want to start one! You can read here about the basics of starting a small group. Most likely, you can also contact your parish office. If you are willing to put in the work to lead a small group, the pastor and his council should be happy to help you succeed.
   There are also plenty of options for what you can do! You can do a study that is completely focused on grief, or get together twice a month for coffee and a general check in. You can learn how to pray with Scripture together, or study Christ’s passion in-depth. You could even read a book that enunciates the grief process, or one about a profound experience of grief. Local funeral homes also tend to offer workshops and speakers you could attend together. It’s all down to what works best for you and your parish.

5. The return on investment is high.
   When your parish supports someone in a time a grief, it doesn’t just affect that person. All of their family and friends learn that they were able to turn to the Catholic Church during a painful time. That plants a seed for the future.

   As I previously stated, everyone will experience grief at some point in their life. Sometimes that grief is overwhelming. It is a good thing to let people know they can come to the Catholic Church when they are in despair.

Melissa Keating is a writer, editor, and content strategist based in St. Louis.

The Cathedral Bereavement Group Is Starting Soon! Cathedral parish will begin hosting Grief Share, a weekly grief support group. If you, or someone you know, would like help and encouragement after the death of a spouse, child, family member, or friend, please join us beginning Thurs., Nov. 7, 1:00-3:00pm in the Cathedral School Library. Grief Share runs for 14 weeks, but guests may join the series at any point and can pick up what they missed during the next cycle. Brochures are available in the literature rack by the west atrium doors. For more information contact Berni Ely @ 899-6637 or [email protected]

If the only prayer you said was “thank you,” that would be enough. —Meister Eckhart

I was sitting quietly early this morning, before the rush of life commenced, and was overwhelmed with an undefined sense of gratitude. Actually, it was very defined. It was a visceral awareness of the gratuitousness of existence (i.e., the fact that anything exists at all is a sheer gift bereft of any claim to entitlement). “Gratuitous” captures this well, I think, as it means “not necessary or justified.”

God needn’t have created anything at all, yet chose to. While we often complain to God that we do not yet possess wellbeing, we forget that we already possess something far more radical, extraordinary, stunning, mind-blowing and grounding: being. I am.

Become aware at this very moment that there is something rather than nothing, there is a you, and a whole massive cosmos that did not have to exist at all, but does. Existence is a mystery, a source of wonder, and its very be-ing itself is already excessive.

Another vantage on this. I shared with my students this summer that for most of the Old Testament faithful men and women, there was no clear awareness of a personal afterlife, of a resurrection from the dead that promised reward for justice and punishment for injustice. With death, identity faded into the shadows of nonexistence.

I call to you, Lord, all the day long; to your I stretch out my hands. Will you work your wonders for the dead? Will the shades stand and praise you? Will your love be told in the grave or your faithfulness among the dead? Will your wonders be known in the dark or your justice in the land of oblivion?

The answer to Psalm 88’s desperate questions? No. The idea of “eternal life” in Judaism only came later, closer to the time of Jesus.

So imagine, would you remain faithful to God and his commandments in this life, as did the Hebrew saints, amid great hardships and sufferings, amid unanswered questions about good and evil, with no belief that after death an eternal life awaited you? No reward, other than knowing you lived in fidelity, here and now, to the will of the good God who made you and chose you to be his own in this world? Would you have done so wholeheartedly? Would you say, as Tennyson once said so beautifully,

I hold it true, whate’er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; ‘Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.

Back to my morning’s silent insight. It is quintessentially a Jewish-Christian instinct to see gratitude as the foundational virtue on which all else is built, the attitude that sustains all other good things. And this gratitude is not, in the first instance, for this or that good thing, or even for well-being, but simply for the very fact that you, I, or anything exists at all. Ever has, ever will. Period.

When you begin each day with that mindset, it revolutionizes the way you experience life. And then the supererogatory “over-the-top” excess of well-being that God has in fact granted us in Christ, with the hoped promise of a new creation in which “all will be well in all manner of being well,” becomes a fresh cause to “leap for joy” (Luke 6:23).

In this dayenu (song), the Jewish soul lives in a constant thankful awareness of a God who says to each of us, in each and every moment, “I love you: I want you to be.” Only then, like the prophet Habakkuk, we can sing:

For even though the fig tree does not blossom, nor fruit grow on our vines, even though the olive crop fail and fields produce no harvest, even though flocks vanish from the folds and stalls stand empty of cattle, yet I will rejoice in the Lord and exult in God my savior.

Dr. Tom Neal presently serves as Academic Dean and Professor of Spiritual Theology at Notre Dame Seminary in New Orleans, Louisiana. Tom received a Masters in Systematic Theology from Mount St. Mary’s University and a PhD in Religion at Florida State University.

My life is one of far greater riches than the rich man in today’s parable. Space-age wool, cotton, and polyester blends compose the clothes that I throw on every morning and the food I eat throughout the day is more abundant, nourishing, fresh, and appetizing than even the most sumptuous of meals that the un-identified “Dives” [“rich-man”] would have enjoyed. So how do I avoid his fate? A few take-aways immediately strike the attentive reader.

For one, the obvious connotation: Dives now finds himself in anguish because he ignored the impoverished and ill Lazarus who lived literally under his very gate, and yet received neither attention, food, nor even the smallest gesture of love from him. Christ’s words in the prior chapter of Luke that we heard last weekend should resonate again in our hearts: “you cannot serve God and mammon”. “Son”, Abraham speaks to all of us, “remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish.” Is my “lifetime”, a word that not only speaks of physical length of days, but of the fullness of our lives, including and extending into eternity, comprised merely of the “good things” of this world? How often is my mood, disposition, and happiness dependent on merely earthly possessions and pleasures?

A couple weeks ago I bought one of those electrolyte-additive mixes that you drink after a hard workout, choosing “orange” because I thought it would be the best flavor. Well, it’s terrible, and every time I try to drink the stuff, I think I should just toss it and try “cherry pomegranate” or “lemon” instead… Not after this Gospel! Lazarus did not have food at all. He did not even get the scraps and refuse that our rich man threw out, much less food that was palatable or nutritious. In eternity, am I going to be still be looking for a quick drink for myself (as long as it’s not orange-flavored) or will my mind and heart be set on more important things? I make that decision now in the simple choice to not complain when my preference is not given to me, as well as in those greater acts of charity when I offer kindness, concern, and dignity to someone in need of it who crosses my path.

A second call resonates beyond this first one though, and it comes at the end of our Gospel today.

And he said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment. But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them.’ And he said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if some one goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced if some one should rise from the dead.’ ”

Our rich man shows concern for his brothers; he is not just a cold-hearted, wealthy, tyrant or something. What does this mean for us?: Kindness is not enough. Love of neighbor is not the extent of Christ’s call, but only when it flows from, and is linked with Love of God! Our life must not merely be not serving mammon, but a conscious and constant choice to serve God! How might we do this? I think our Gospel today offers us a simple way: fill our minds and hearts with God’s Word. Abraham’s final message to our rich-man is that he (and his brothers) did not hear Moses and the Prophets, and so, they would also be ambivalent towards even the astonishing revelation in Christ’s resurrection. Is my mind filled by the entertainment, distractions, and noise of our world? What happens when my phone dies or an ad rudely interrupts my YouTube watching? What is the first thing I read in the morning, or the last thing I hear or see before I fall asleep?

While running this past week, the Bluetooth earbuds I was listening to an audiobook with ran out of power. I had a couple miles to go on a long run, and it was annoying to not have the distraction of constant sound pumped into my head, but I was forced to go without them and ended up praying two decades of the rosary and greeting a couple people with a smile and wave as I trotted the last bit back to the rectory. It was a moment of insight: are the words that fill my mind and heart those of God, or a barrage of distraction that keep me far from appreciating His gifts and presence? Not only must we set aside time for silence in order to even notice God’s work in our lives, but we also have to spend time to meditate on His Word – Moses, the Prophets, the Gospels – and let them percolate in our hearts, penetrate our minds, and polish the lenses through which we see our world.

Father Dominic Rankin is a Parochial Vicar for the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.

Various polls in recent years have indicated the rise of “nones”, those declaring no religious affiliation whatsoever. This is particularly conspicuous among young people. It has been noted that these “nones” are often of two types:

1. Those who show an outright hostility to all things religious, including merely believing in God;
2. Those who are interested in spiritual and religious matters, but are disenchanted with any kind of institutional or organized religion.

It’s from this latter group that one often hears, “I’m spiritual, not religious.” Typically, underlying this view is a sentiment which insists that religion is man-made.

The prevalence of this view dovetails with sociologist Christian Smith’s work. He describes the American religious landscape as one of moralistic therapeutic deism. The first (moralism) is the view that the essence of religion is about making people good, which is often equated with being nice. The second component (therapeutic) refers to the commonplace view that religion serves the purpose of providing comfort—it should make us feel better. And finally, deism is the view that acknowledges God’s existence, but denies that God is involved in our lives in any serious way: i.e., he doesn’t hear our prayers (and so no real relationship is possible), nor does he make any real demands over our lives.

The Difference the Eucharist Makes
I have incredible respect for our Protestant brothers and sisters. In fact, I studied biblical languages and archaeology in a Protestant graduate program. However, I can understand the attraction to “I’m spiritual, but not religious” from a Protestant perspective. In Protestantism, what is the reason for attending Sunday worship—beyond merely the command to observe the Sabbath? Further, are there other ways of attaining the goods sought by physically going to church (e.g., sermons, music, fellowship)?

Indeed, in a Protestant framework, the answer would seem to be yes. After all, one can hear terrific talks, sermons, and praise and worship music on the internet. And one can certainly feel like they’re part of a community in many ways, even online.

When all is said and done, organized Protestant worship and ecclesial structure is largely man-made. For this reason, one can see the rise of “I’m spiritual, not religious” as a secularized form of Protestantism. (See Brad Gregory’s Unintended Reformation for more on the historical connection between the Protestant Reformation and the rise of secularization.)

Christ in Full Glory
But the case is different for Catholics. We don’t go to Mass because of the homily (though, we certainly appreciate it when it’s well done). Nor do we go to Mass for the music (though we love it when it’s done beautifully and with devotion). We don’t even go to Mass primarily for the community (though that’s the natural side effect of people gathering together in pursuit of a transcendent good).

We go to Mass in order to receive the Risen Body of Jesus Christ, and thereby have hope in our own resurrection. As St. Ignatius of Antioch put it in A.D. 107, the Eucharist is the “medicine of immortality, antidote against death” (Letter to Ephesians, chapter 20). Ignatius gets this teaching directly from Jesus:

“He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day” (John 6:54).

Everything about the Catholic Faith can be tied to the Eucharist as the Sacrament of Sacraments. Christ acts in all the sacraments by his power; but in the Eucharist, we have Christ Himself. In truth, at the end of time when Christ comes again, he won’t have an ounce more glory than he does right now in the Eucharist. The only difference will be in our ability to see.

What Is the Church?
All of the sacraments either prepare us to receive the Eucharist (baptism, confession); make the Eucharist possible (ordination); manifest the nuptial love of God to the world—which is manifest in the Eucharist (matrimony); or configure us to the Paschal Mystery more fully, which the Eucharist makes present (confirmation, anointing of the sick). All of the sacraments are either ordered to the Eucharist or flow from it. That is why the Eucharist is the “source and summit” of the Christian faith (Lumen Gentium, 11).

When we ask “What is the Church?” or “What makes the Church?” the answer is not buildings or architecture (though we have a wonderful and beautiful architectural tradition); nor is it simply hierarchy and bureaucratic structure (though hierarchy and authority play an important role in Catholic life and teaching).

The answer is the Eucharist— for the Eucharist makes the Church. In and through the Eucharist, we become the Body of Christ. The Eucharist is the nuptial union between the Church and her divine bridegroom; and it is through this one-flesh union that the Church becomes the Body of Christ.

All of the hierarchy really flows from this precious gift of the Most Holy Eucharist; for it is necessary to bring the Eucharist about. The Eucharist implies an ordained priesthood through which Christ continues his priesthood, as well as bishops who ordain these priests through the laying on of hands. The Church’s moral teaching takes on its fullest dimension in light of this nuptial relationship we’ve been invited to with our Lord, a nuptial union which finds its consummation in the Eucharist.

Much of Catholic practice, devotion, and teaching stem from preserving the divine dignity of the Holy Eucharist or distilling this wondrous treasure for the faithful. The Eucharist is truly the “source and summit” of Christian life—the very fulcrum around which our faith turns and the centrifugal source of the outpouring of divine life.

Is Moralistic Therapeutic Deism Really Satisfying?
In my youth, I didn’t care much for my Catholic faith. Looking back, there are likely a host of reasons for this, some of which surely stem directly from me. Still, the Catholic Faith as presented to me in grade school and high school quite simply had no teeth—it made no real demands beyond “be nice.” I realized early on that I could get the gospel of “be nice” from lots of places—Confucius, Plato, or Buddha all could have taught me that. If that’s what this religion thing was about, why bother with Jesus? After all, what difference did Jesus make? For the truth is religion that demands nothing means nothing.

Jesus went to his death (as did the early Christian martyrs) not for asking people to “be nice.” In John the Baptist, Jesus, and the early Christians, we see the vigorous and even dangerous adventure of taking Christianity seriously.

Therapeutic Religion
Which brings us to the next component of our current religious predicament: therapeutic. Does religion exist merely to comfort us and make us feel better? Once again, this good can be gotten in lots of ways—not least from a local therapist. Here, we see the American consumer mentality stepping in: religion is not about God, but about me and how it makes me feel.

Further, a distinctively modern penchant is to view the question of truth as irrelevant to religion. That is, religion exists to make us good and to comfort us. But its truth claims are really irrelevant (hence, the modern aversion to questions of heresy or falsity with regard to religion). In fact, modernity tends to operate on the assumption that religious truth is simply unknowable.

Keeping Religion Objective
In the modern context, the whole notion of being “spiritual, but not religious” is an attempt to reclaim some of the goods of religion (a sense for the transcendent, a deeper purpose in life), without any of the demands of a religion rooted in truth (e.g., objective moral demands that don’t always match our immediate preferences). Being spiritual and not religious is a recipe for a self-designer religion. Given how easily our passions and desires can cloud our reason, this approach is bound to have us customizing our own spirituality in a manner that does not challenge us at all—an approach which is designed never to make us feel uncomfortable and confirm us exactly where we are.

In other words: being spiritual and not religious is precisely the man-made religion we would expect fallen creatures like ourselves to create.

But as we noted, without the Eucharist, this would seem to be a perennial temptation. The Eucharist keeps religion objective; and the features of religion which those outside the fold generally find most irksome (e.g., moral teaching, hierarchy) make sense precisely in light of the Eucharist. If the Eucharist is the Risen Jesus among us, we would expect rigorous moral teaching and a sacred hierarchy charged with caring for and presenting before the faithful this most august treasure—as well as an insistence on the importance of the sacrament of confession after committing grave (mortal) sins before receiving Christ’s precious Body and Blood.

But Can’t I Just Serve the Poor?
It’s common to hear someone eschew prayer in favor of acts of service—often seeing the latter as the heart of the gospel and prayer as something extra. While service is certainly an essential part of the gospel, it is not the whole.

Consider the analogy of marriage: it would be a strange marriage if I spent all my days serving my wife—doing yard work, painting, cleaning—and quite literally never talked to her for months or even years on end. Serving my wife, as well as serving those she loves (our children), is an important part of showing my love for her. But these acts of service make sense only in light of the prior relationship I have with her.

God has invited us into a personal and even nuptial relationship with him. For this reason, in the analogy, serving my wife is like acts of service which show love for my neighbor; spending time talking with my wife (about the mundane and the depths of our hearts) is analogous to prayer; and renewing our covenant bond in the marital act is a foreshadowing of the Eucharist—where we become one flesh with our Lord.

Religion as Adventure
Serving others is essential; but it does not replace or substitute for a living personal and nuptial relationship with God. In fact, the former flows out of the vitality of the latter.

It’s not surprising that people find half-baked religion uninspiring —that’s exactly what I came to growing up. But the real thing—in all its glory and grandeur—is the most riveting and exhilarating adventure we could ever go on. How can we reclaim our sense of purpose and God-given mission in light of what Jesus has done for us—in the Cross and in the Holy Eucharist?

Dr. Andrew Swafford is an associate professor of theology at Benedictine College. He is a general editor and contributor to The Great Adventure Catholic Bible, published by Ascension. He holds a doctorate in Sacred Theology from the University of St. Mary of the Lake and a master’s degree in Old Testament & Semitic Languages from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. He lives with his wife Sarah and their four children in Atchison,

To say that the devil had been playing around with the REBOOT event would be an understatement. From computers and printers not working, to the Atrium projector suddenly breaking, and to mic-issues which seemed just fine during sound-check… yes, you could say there were some challenges. But, were those challenges enough to stop conversion? Were those challenges enough to stop the smiles, positive body language, or laughter coming from the pews? Nope!

What we had been hoping for during the planning process for REBOOT was “back-pew hospitality.” Unfortunately, we knew not everyone would be sitting in a “prime spot” and that some of our paying guests would end up in the back. However, thanks to the many amazing volunteers, we pulled it off! Volunteer instruction the night-of was pretty simple: Be Kind.

Why? Because that is what Jesus would do. In fact, anytime we talk about service or hospitality in a churchsetting it should always involve a commitment to kindness. Are we really being ministers and servers, if we are not being kind? It is surely hard to be a reflection of Jesus’ hands in feet in the world without being kind.

The kind people I know have an understanding and appreciate for the gift of life. Stewardship is ultimately an act of gratitude, a sharing of all the good things God has placed in one’s life and gifting it back to God’s people. A gracious heart is a characteristic naturally of a kind person. When you live a life that is full of wants, desires, and foolish materialism, you will get sucked into sadness, not kindness. Ultimately, I can’t really imagine a truly kind person who is not also self-sacrificing, generous, and a good steward, can you?

When asked by the New York Times what Saint Teresa of Calcutta would say in her Noble Peace Prize acceptance speech, she said, “I will say, ‘Love one another as God loves each one of you,’ Isn’t this simple? This is what we teach our young children! Why do we let our worldly desires get in the way? Temptation, revenge, resentment, all of these feelings are distractions from the hope and peace found in a stewards way of life.

In the pursuit of becoming a parish filled with disciples who intentionally choose to live stewardship as a way of liferooted in prayer, service, and giving- we must choose kindness. We must choose love. We must choose to think of others before ourselves. If we are kind in our ministries, if we are kind in our relationships with others, if we are kind with ourselves, we will find the love that Mother Teresa has now found. And, to that end, no matter what pew you end up in, you will know you are loved.

Katie Price is the Stewardship Coordinator for the Cathedral and the Director of Discipleship and Stewardship for the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois.

This past weekend I had dinner with one of my closest friends, meeting up with him at after a conference he was presenting at. It’s one of those friendships where we’ve seen each other at our best and our worst; one of those bonds where you can speak without words. I always had a second home with his family in Iowa. I stood up for him at his wedding, baptized two of his children, and I’m godfather to his middle son, Callum…you get the picture. In the course of dinner, sitting at a sidewalk table outside of the restaurant, there was a gentleman who appeared to be homeless as well as suffering from a form of mental illness. He was sitting down on the sidewalk about five or six feet from our table, talking to himself and smoking, but not causing any disturbance. My friend said we should move tables and I responded by asking him “what if that man is Jesus Christ?” My friend didn’t say anything to me but the look that he shot me clearly said “don’t try to play that card with me.” I smiled and laughed and we stayed at our table and the gentleman five or six feet from us moved on a few minutes later.

My reply to my friend was in not a judgement of him. Honestly, I said what I did for my own benefit as much as for his (if not to lovingly jab at him too). That man on the sidewalk was not someone to be avoided because he was as much a son of God as I am. That man, made in the image and likeness of God like all of us, has remained on my mind this week. When I got home to the Cathedral on Sunday evening I saw the front page of the State Journal Register. The front page contained a story concerning a billboard that was attempting to shame Helping Hands Shelter for their efforts to expand their services. Let me be clear, I am not shaming or judging those who are opposing Helping Hands’ effort to expand their services in their neighborhood even though it saddens me because I think that Helping Hands is doing the work of Christ that most no one else, including government, wants to do. I believe that many peoples’ opposition to be motivated by fears and concerns that are rampant in our society, fears and concerns that I would argue are false. The sad reality is that many people will say that homeless people are a problem rather than understanding that its homelessness, not homeless people, that is the problem.

As Christians, we need to be conscious of separating problems from persons, because people should never be seen as problems. Behaviors may be problematic, physical, mental, emotional conditions may be problematic, attitudes may be problematic, but a person and their existence is never problematic. This confusion can be found at the root of the evil of abortion, that too many times pregnancy is seen only as a condition or a problem or a situation, rather than a woman who is carrying an unborn child where one or both may be facing issues, challenges, or difficulties. Another example is the epidemic of violence in society with guns or otherwise. I firmly believe that we cannot legislate a fix to this problem because, as a society, we have become masters at looking at people and denying/not seeing their personhood, their innate human dignity and as long as we are able to do that then the violence in our communities will only get worse.

The personhood of those around us cannot be ignored. We must always strive to see it first and foremost. To achieve this we have to see Jesus Christ in those around us; if we see Christ in another, we will not lose sight of their humanity, even if they themselves aren’t doing much to put it on display. We see this necessity because of the condemnation that we hear in the Book of Amos in the first reading this weekend. The condemnation is given by the prophet to those who have chosen to ignore the humanity of their brothers and sisters for the sake of their own comfort and gain, and regarding this sin, the Word tells us that the Lord will not forget it (Amos 8: 4-7).

As disciples, we must work to make our ability to see Christ in others second nature to us. We must do this because we want to be among those in Matthew’s Gospel who say at the Last Judgment “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’ And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me (Mt 25: 38-40).” Those who are called the righteous by the Lord in this moment are those who saw in front of them a person with a problem, not the person as a problem. To borrow from Bishop Paprocki, may God give us this grace.

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