The prophet Isaiah is both concise and profound: “If you remove from your midst oppression, false accusation, and malicious speech; if you bestow your bread on the hungry and satisfy the afflicted; then light shall rise for you in the darkness, and the gloom shall become for you like midday.” These words direct our attention to the sacredness of human life and human dignity. Without mincing any words, Isaiah sees no compromise when it comes to our relationship with the hungry, homeless, naked, and afflicted. Jesus insisted on the centrality of these relationships and directly stated that what you do to one of the least of these you do to him.

How much clearer does it need to be? Our faith speaks directly to every aspect of human need. But even today, there are many who believe that faith and social issues need to remain separate and be treated differently. There are many places where the sacredness of human life and human dignity are sacrificed. The unborn child, the immigrant, the young victim of sex trafficking, victims of war and violence, the poor and the homeless, those struggling to make ends meet who cannot find sustainable work, those on death row, victims of sexual and emotional abuse, the forgotten elderly, those who are physically or emotionally challenged, those suffering from addictions, and those who profit from enabling them are just a few examples. For every one of these and more, there are two things that are needed. The first is an immediate compassionate response that helps to ease their burden. The second is an understanding of why each challenge exists and what needs to be done to fix it.

Both are difficult. And both require more than what social services can provide and law can accomplish. The solution requires an acceptance of what our faith directs us to do and then working towards real systemic change. There is a great deal of work to do, and it will require communities of salt and light to accomplish it. Our faith brings us into the marketplace, to the streets, to politicians, to teachers, to leaders, to governments, and to people who really do not care what Jesus has to say or what Christianity directs.

Salt brings taste, zest, and joy to life. We are asked to liven things up by allowing the joy of our faith to spill over into the lives of others. Once we are able to develop a sincere and deep relationship with God, it will define us and flow out of us.

Because of that relationship, humanity can be freshened and set on proper course. This is especially true if these relationships are cultivated, shared, and enriched in communities that share the same beliefs. To be light means that our faith must translate into action so that we can be Christ for others and extend the same arm of mercy and compassion that Christ did. To be light means that through perseverance, learning, determination, and discernment, the darkness of the cause of injustice can be illumined, challenged, and remedied. None of this is easy work.

St. Paul came to the table with weakness and a lot of trembling. He did not have persuasive words of wisdom that swept people off their feet and set them on proper course. His effectiveness came because of his relationship with Jesus Christ, which brought a demonstration of Spirit and power. His relationship with God flowed over into his life and created an example of convincing integrity. It was from this simple example that the early communities flourished and grew. Numbers were added to the faith not because of what people said, but because of how they lived. They prioritized their lives and solved their problems differently than the rest of the secular world. If it happened once, it can happen again.

As with any group poised with tackling a challenge, some members have the gifts to train hard and get right into the heart of what needs to be done. Others have different gifts and talents and may find themselves suited more for a supportive role, lending their voice of encouragement and contributing to the mission as they can. We all come with different means, but we are all on the same team. Our Lord and Master has given us the blueprint and game plan. All we need to do is put it into action! I wonder how the world would look if Christianity was actually tried for a change.

Jesus wouldn’t have gone through all of the trouble of gathering a bunch of people together, teaching them about the kingdom of God, and sending them off on a mission if he didn’t think we had the ability to handle this. A good teacher knows what his students can handle. Do we see in ourselves what God sees in us? We have the ability to be both salt and light. We can do this!

Fr. Mark Suslenko is Pastor of the Community of Ss. Isidore and Maria in Glastonbury, CT. Fr. Suslenko publishes reflection articles regularly to his parish’s blog. To read more of Fr. Suslenko’s reflections, visit https://isidoreandmaria.org/category/pastor-reflections/.

I was 50 years old before I learned that I had a superpower and that it would help me carry out a special and unique mission. And that I wasn’t the only one; every baptized person has a mission and “superpowers” with which to accomplish their mission. My mission, or call, and yours comes from God. But most Catholics do not know that they have been given a call from God. It is not just for Saints or a small number of special people. It is an ordinary experience. All of us have a contribution to make to the Kingdom of God that is unique and irreplaceable and that really matters.

At Baptism and Confirmation the Holy Spirit pours spiritual gifts into us. Some of these gifts are sanctifying gifts, meant for our own holiness; and some of these gifts are meant to manifest God’s love and mercy to others. The catechism states Within the communion of the Church, the Holy Spirit “distributes special graces among the faithful of every rank” for the building up of the Church. (951) These special graces or gifts are called charisms. And our charisms are the “superpowers” granted by the Holy Spirit that give us a special empowerment to bring God’s redeeming love into the world. We don’t use our charisms for our own gain or betterment, only for God’s purposes or to serve others.

Charisms bear three marks that allow us to recognize them with confidence:

1. An unmistakable inner experience of peace, energy and joy when you are using this gift.
2. Unusually effective and successful results in what you are trying to accomplish.
3. Other people’s direct or indirect recognition of the gift’s presence.

Charisms are profoundly and directly connected to our relationship with God and grow in power and purity as our relationship with God grows. In other words, you cannot begin to discern your charisms until you have “dropped your nets” to follow Christ. Over the next few weeks I will share with you some information about some of the most common charisms, starting with Intercessory Prayer. I hope and pray you will be intrigued by the charisms and curious to discover what yours might be.

Vicki Compton is the Coordinator of Faith Formation and Mission at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Springfield, Illinois.

Punxsutawney Phil can thank Catholic culture and tradition for his notoriety. In national lore, Phil, America’s favorite rodent, has been prognosticating longer winters or early springs since the late 19th century. The tradition of Groundhog Day comes from a German tradition, via the Pennsylvania Deutsch, of a badger being the weather predictor. Both are secularizations of an old Candlemas tradition, a feast that goes back to the 4th century. There is an old rhyme that says: If Candlemas be fair and bright, come winter, have another flight; if Candlemas bring clouds and rain, go winter, and come not again.

This Sunday, February 2nd, we celebrate the 40th day since Christmas with the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord. The Church remembers that, in fulfillment of the Levitical law (Lev. 12:1-8), having circumcised Jesus on the 8th day, the Holy Family came into the Temple to complete Mary’s purification as commanded by the law and to offer the proper sacrifice because of the newborn Jesus. The Feast of the Presentation’s more traditional name is Candlemas, literally meaning the Mass of Candles, because this is also the day when the Church traditionally blesses all her candles for the coming year. Candles are blessed on this feast because Jesus is the light that has come into the world, a light even for the Gentiles, as Simeon states and is recorded for us in the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke.

Luke’s narrative of the Presentation introduces us to Simeon and Anna. We are told that Anna was eighty-four years old, was a prophetess, and remained in the Temple constantly. Luke does not recount an encounter between her and the Holy Family but we can deduce that it happened because tells us that Anna “spoke about the child to all who were awaiting the redemption of Jerusalem,” and this encounter must have brought her great joy. Luke does recount for us Simeon’s encounter with the infant Jesus and the mystery that God had made a personal promise to Simeon that he would not die until he had seen the Messiah. After many years of waiting, God’s promise to Simeon is fulfilled and Simeon’s response is one of a prayer of praise that heralds who this child is and what this child shall be. This prayer or Canticle of Simeon, known in Latin as the Nunc Dimittis, is central to the Church’s life of prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours and is prayed at the end of every day in the Church’s night prayer.

From whether or not winter will end early, to Simeon’s heralding of the infant Jesus as a light of revelation, to the blessing of candles, the Feast of the Presentation is a feast of light; not just any light, but Christ who is the light who has come to scatter the darkness. Unlike Simeon, we don’t have to wait for the light to appear. The Lord Jesus remains. He is always present to us, especially in our darkest times, but we, as disciples, must make the conscious choice to walk with Him who is Light from Light.

The light of Christmas in the crèche and the poinsettias and the trees, all these things now finally fade away at the end of these forty days, but not our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the true light of Christmas that knows no season, in whom there is no darkness, and who seeks to show us the way each and every day. May we cooperate with the grace of God given to us so that we might follow the Light wherever He leads us, ultimately home to the Father.

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

I once sat behind an older man who was angry because our then-3-year-old was talking in church. The man spent the entire Mass huffing and puffing, visibly rolling his eyes, and shooting dirty looks at us. As if that didn’t make me feel bad enough, at the sign of peace, he refused to shake any of our hands, or even make eye contact. Embarrassment turned into anger as we left, and I let his attitude of disapproval get the best of me for the rest of the day.

Whenever I write about kids being distracting at Mass, someone always comments that it’s because parents don’t discipline or teach kids how to behave.

Their kids behaved in Mass.

Their grandkids do.

Their neighbor’s friend’s second cousin has a 3-year-old who is so pious, they canonized her right after Mass at doughnuts and coffee in the hall!

For years, I dreaded Sunday mornings. I tried to talk myself out of going to Mass so we wouldn’t have to bother with any of it. Each week, my husband reminded me that we needed to go, and our very normal kids were just being kids.

Sometimes, people were thoughtful and kind. We once had an older couple ask to hold our son. We let them, and he sat and quietly played with the woman’s necklace for the remainder of Mass. Another woman stopped us to say she enjoys watching our family every Sunday. We’ve had people lean over and tell us we’re doing a great job even if our family had been one elephant short of a circus (we have plenty of clowns). But, I can probably count on one hand the times I’ve felt affirmed for bringing my kids to Mass compared to the times we’ve visibly bothered other people.

I think I speak for a lot of parents when I say that I wish people were more patient and understanding. Our kids have a right to be at Mass. As baptized members of the faith, they are part of the Catholic community, and they’re the future of the Church.

Families are not trying to be disruptive. We don’t want to take away from the Mass, but we also don’t want to teach our kids that all they have to do is be loud and we’ll take them out of the church. I understand many parishes have cry rooms, but by sitting in the chapel, most of us want to set an example for our kids of how to behave. We want them to see what goes on, be a part of the congregation, and understand what’s expected of them so they can learn the routine. Our kids can’t learn how to behave in Mass if they are never in Mass.

I liken this season of life with small kids to a test of patience and perseverance. Like a dark night of the soul, I’m often left feeling blah about attending Mass. I get nothing from the readings and homilies most weeks because I’m interfering with my child to stop dropping the hymnal, or telling him to be quiet so people around him can pray. I’m faced with the choice to give up on Mass because it feels like going through the motions: I can surrender to the temptation of just staying home (because it’s easier), or persevere (despite the dry feeling I often have).

Sometimes all we have when it comes to our faith is perseverance, especially when it’s hard. If I stop going to Mass because my kids are little and loud, or busy and distracting, I set an example for them that church isn’t important. If I quit, I will have failed God, who entrusted my children to me so that I could love them and raise them to love him.

When we baptized our children, we promised we would raise them in the faith. I have come to understand that motherhood is my vocation and a huge part of that is to make sure my kids have a foundation in their Christian faith. Even though they don’t seem to be doing much praying during Mass, they are immersed in prayer. (I know because our 5-year-old sometimes recites snippets of the creed when he plays with his trucks.)

I, like many parents, have discovered that children learn by continual repetition. They don’t learn to walk the first time you stand them up. They don’t learn how to eat from a spoon after the first feeding. It all takes practice and patience. So, of course they don’t learn how to be silently still in Mass just because they are there.

My hope is that people will grow to make families with little kids feel more welcome. We should not only embrace young families at Mass, but celebrate them. We have to nurture our community or there won’t be one.

My hope is the next time someone finds themselves getting annoyed by someone’s child, they ask God to show them how they can serve these people. Maybe a friendly smile is all it takes to keep that family coming back and not giving up on their faith because they’re made to feel like an annoyance. I often think back to the kind couple who held our son at Mass. I don’t think they realized how meaningful their gesture was. For the rest of that Mass, we felt like we were part of a community of people who embraced our family. It was refreshing.

So, you never know, maybe your gesture really is the first step in the future canonization of one of these little ones. Or, maybe you’ll just befriend the family and have new friends to eat doughnuts with in the hall after Mass.

Christina Antus lives with her husband and her three cute, but noisy, kids. When she’s not writing, she’s running, reading, folding forever-piles of laundry, and probably burning dinner. You can read more of Christina’s writing at www.heykristeenuh.com/