How wonderful it is that the Feast of the Immaculate Conception of Mary always falls within the start of Advent. Thus, in the very season during which we wait with longing for the Word made flesh to come to us as Emmanu-el (God-withus), we are invited to consider how deeply planned, how “not-random” is his coming, by pondering his Mother Mary, and the very fact of her. “Without God’s Son, nothing could exist; without Mary’s son, nothing could be redeemed,” declared St. Anselm in a sermon, also noting that God is “Father” of the created world and Mary the “Mother” of the world recreated in Christ. Anselm completes his thought by echoing the words of the Archangel Gabriel to Mary: “Truly the Lord is with you, to whom the Lord granted that all nature should owe as much to you as to himself.”

It’s a lot to take in. Mary’s own conception had itself been something pre-ordained by God as necessary within the pageant and process of our salvation—a moment of creation untainted by the brokenness of original sin, which had accompanied every human conception since the first sin of Eden.

From the very beginnings of her existence within the womb of Anne, her mother, the body and soul of Mary were created as the imperatively immaculate vessel required for the containment and growth of the Incarnation of the All Holy. Mary was created with the graces that would render her a fit Ark for the New Covenant, and not only for the time Jesus’ gestation within her womb but throughout her entire life.

This is a fact the Church might appreciate even more today than at any time previous, thanks to science and the discovery of microchimerism. We have learned that within the process of microchimerism, every baby conceived by a woman leaves within her a microscopic bit of his or her cellular being, even if gestation is interrupted, and remains with her forever. Mary, then, was indeed a tabernacle for the Divinity—not for a limited time but for all of her life, as these invisible but real reserves of the Christ remained within her.

Knowing this only reinforces how necessary, how profoundly sensible and reasonable-in-faith is the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, which was deduced long before a time of microscopic discovery. It makes perfect sense that the God who is all good is also completely pure; therefore, the vessel in which he would reside and be made manifest need also be pure, or it could never have been able to sustain all of the light, all of the holiness, all of that power extant within the All-in-All.

Were Mary not be-graced by God for that very purpose of holy containment and development, she would have been crumbled into dust by the immensity of it. And this relates directly to the Assumption of Mary as well. In the Psalms we read: “You will not suffer your beloved to undergo corruption” (Psalm 16:10). Christ’s divine body did not undergo corruption, but ascended into heaven; it follows that his mother’s body, which contained the cellular components of that divinity—and a particle of God is God, entire—would not be permitted to undergo corruption either.

It could not be otherwise. The God particle, commingled with humanity, necessarily preserves humanity and calls it to himself. This is Incarnational. It is Eucharistic, from the beginning. It is our life, conceived in light. And yes, a lot to take in. It’s a lot to take in that God had so thoroughly planned, in the fullness of time, to draw all things to himself through Christ Jesus (Ephesians 1:10), and that we can see the reality of his plans in the Immaculate Conception of Mary and in her life.

It’s also a lot to take in, and something we rarely consider (even when we say, “To Jesus, through Mary”): that Christ’s Body and his Blood are Mary’s as well—that the foundational materials of our Holy Eucharist come to us through Mary. Without Mary’s body, Emmanu-el would not have been with us, and so it makes perfect sense that—as Ark and nurturing catalyst for the New Creation, her body and blood (and her generous, pristine soul) would be preserved of defect, and rendered “full of grace.” As St. John Vianney preached, “The Father takes pleasure in looking upon the heart of the most holy Virgin Mary, as the masterpiece of his hands….The Son takes pleasure in it as the heart of His Mother, the source from which He drew the blood that…ransomed us.”

To Jesus, through Mary, indeed. Those non-Catholics who misunderstand Mariology and assert that Catholics pay her too much homage are missing the point of the essential mission to which she gave her consent: to provide the profoundly pure flesh and blood by which the Savior would eventually—and throughout the ages—feed us and heal us with the super-substanital “daily bread” of the Eucharist. The gift rendered Holy through Christ’s own divinity and called forth by his Bride, the Church. Seen in that light, how could we ever do Mary homage enough for her fiat, and her lifelong example of how to cooperate with grace?

How could we not, especially in Advent, want to ask the prayers of one so beloved of the Incarnate Word, an intercessor who troubled Christ Jesus for something as temporal and passing as wine at a wedding, and to whom we can speak so simply? Especially in this month, let us say each day, with perfect confidence in this “Mother of the world, recreated in Christ”: O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee!

Elizabeth Scalia is a Benedictine Oblate and author of several books including the award-winning Strange Gods: Unmasking the Idols in Everyday Life (Ave Maria Press) and Little Sins Mean a Lot (OSV). Before joining the Word on Fire team as a Editor at Large, she served as Editor-in-Chief of the English edition of Aleteia, and as Managing Editor of the Catholic section of Patheos.com. Elizabeth also blogs as “The Anchoress” at www.theanchoress.com. She is married, and living on Long Island.

[On hearing of the death of his son,] the king was deeply moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept; and as he went, he said, “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!” It was told Joab, “The king is weeping and mourning for Absalom.” So the victory that day was turned into mourning for all the troops; for the troops heard that day, “The king is grieving for his son.” The troops stole into the city that day as soldiers steal in who are ashamed when they flee in battle. The king covered his face, and the king cried with a loud voice, “O my son Absalom, O Absalom, my son, my son!” (2 Sam. 19:1-5)

We Americans live in a culture that has largely lost its shared social scripts and rituals for grieving. How does one grieve loss, failure or tragedy? For how long? How do we move on? How do others respond rightly to those who grieve? With whom should we share our grief? Do we mourn with our clothing? Do we weep and wail aloud in public or in private? Do we share our pain or remain silent? How do we pray in the midst of grief? When do we pray? How should we eat? And how does faith shape the way we grieve?

Grief is how we bury our dead—the injustices and injuries, losses, failures, and tragedies we undergo in life. Grief allows us to heal, surrender, forgive, and move on into new freedom with reverence.

In the face of my parents’ death over the last two years, I have given much thought to this. I have one simple observation. I and my family were overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, support, care, prayer, and compassion shown to us. Cards, texts, emails, gifts, flowers, prayers promised, countless Masses offered, meals brought, memorial donations to charities, sincere words of condolence. One friend had a magnificent chalice made, inscribed with my mom’s name, and donated it as alms to a poor diocese so that my mom would be perpetually remembered in the offering of the Sacrifice.

Absolutely overwhelming. How can one possibly begin to offer gratitude sufficient to repay these acts of kindness? “Pay it forward,” as one friend suggested. Lovely, right, and just.

The beauty and power of all these gifts notwithstanding, what I found most powerful personally was the sacred space afforded me by two people I know. Each offered me a guarded sanctuary within which I could grieve.

One of them, while my mom was dying, asked me, “How are you?” I knew he meant he really wanted to know, and was prepared for whatever would come out. So I told him. He just listened as I dissolved in front of him. He didn’t attempt to mute my pain with pious words of comfort or counsel; neither did he say he knew what I was going through by telling me of his own tale of loss. He simply listened, revering the infinite power of silence. At the end he said, “I’m so sorry.” And embraced me. We left in silence.

For me, he was the weeping Christ-with-me. A real presence reserved in the tabernacle of compassionate silence. Aside from the Funeral Mass, nothing has allowed me to bury my mom and return her to God more than that hour I spent with this friend. He brought alive for me the beauty of the words of Job 2:13: [The friends of Job] sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.

May I be able, by God’s grace, to pay that forward . . .

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.

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Join Us!

Cathedral hosts a weekly bereavement group, Grief Share, on Thursdays from 1:00-3:00 (except 11/28 and 12/26) in the Cathedral School Library. Grief Share offers a faith filled opportunity to grieve and heal in company with others. You are most welcome to join us. For more information contact Berni Ely at 899-6637 or [email protected]

One of my earliest memories is that of wonder as I clomped out, cocooned in boots, snow-pants, coat, and gloves, into our snow-covered backyard as my dad shoveled a walkway to the garage. It was the most snow I had ever seen – about a foot I guess – and I was only a few years old, so the piles of frozen flakes reached beyond my waist. It wasn’t quite Israelites-through-the-Red-Sea astonishing, but the memory sticks in my mind strongly to this day. Perhaps now I find the onset of cold weather less thrilling than I did as a 4-year-old, but I still am struck by wonder each year with the first snowfall. Only God can recreate an entire landscape over the course of an hour as He does with a snowfall, painting and purifying the grime and grayness of November away with the heaven-sent flurries that filled the sky these past weeks. This week, with plenty of winter confronting us outside, I wanted to take a glance through scripture to see what it might reveal to us of God.

The purity of a fresh snowfall is the image called upon by the repentant David in Psalm 51 as he begs the Lord to forgive the ugly selfishness of his adultery with Bathsheba and murder of Uriah, her husband. It evokes not just a request for pardon, but his beseeching prayer that his heart might be recreated in the Lord’s love. “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” Even the purity of snow falls short in describing the Lord’s forgiveness. His redemption is not just a covering over of our sins, but a renewal of ourselves to their depths, especially in those places of our hearts wounded and warped by sin. Isaiah uses the same image, but now the snow-filled-sky become a pledge from God Himself of salvific forgiveness: “though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow” (Isaiah 1:18). As angels filled the December sky above Bethlehem, this promise began to be fulfilled, and it is in the glorious brilliance of Christ transfigured on Mt. Tabor, and the snow-white angels standing by the tomb on the morn of the Resurrection, that mark the definitive advent of Divine redemption.

More astonishing than a state-wide cleansing God completes with an afternoon snow flurry is the transformation He brings about our souls through the supernatural cleansing in one confession. And even more joyous than the most perfect of snowfalls is the rejoicing of all of heaven when we come to Him with repentance!

Psalm 148 transposes the blustering of winter weather into a hymn of praise to the Lord. “Praise the Lord from the earth, you sea monsters and all deeps, fire and hail, snow and frost, stormy wind fulfilling his command! Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars! Beasts and all cattle, creeping things and flying birds!” Our praise, the psalmist admonishes us, is not merely a spiritual or interior one, but includes and joins with the tangible and visible praise of the natural world. Yet our prayer can be even more inspired by the greater beauty of creation in its continual correspondence with God’s providential will. Just as “even the wind and seas obey Him”, so our praise gives even greater glory to God when it is not only an act of piety and adoration, but of obedience. As our worship corresponds more and more closely to His revelation and example, re-presenting His Sacrifice, in memory of Him, our earthly lives are transposed more and more to the worship of heaven.

Just as snow does more than cover over a cityscape, but actually is a small way of creation following the will of its Creator, so snow and frost image not only God’s desire to purify and cleanse our lives, but the bringing of our lives and hearts into conformity with His. Man, made in God’s image and likeness, with His grace is not only re-created in that original image, but invited to do so in obedient freedom. Our lives become a splendid icon of God Himself.

As we close in on our last weeks of this liturgical year and our readings look ever more towards the definitive, glorious, second coming of Christ marked by “awesome sights and mighty signs … from the sky”, perhaps our recent surprising snowfalls could be a reminder of His loving desire to come now, today, into our hearts and lives.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I intend, and prosper in the thing for which I sent it (Isaiah 55:10–11).

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

And here it is. The deliverable. The mission: Go, make disciples of all nations.

In other words, evangelize. Yikes! To Catholics that’s a scary word bringing to mind images of people on street corners, telling us the end of the world is near (Chicken Little anyone?) or people going door to door with religious pamphlets. (How many of us have dashed back into the house and pretended to not be home when we see them coming down the block?) It just doesn’t sit well with us. Evangelize.

Can’t we just be private and quiet about our faith? Isn’t it between each of us and God anyway? Don’t we hear every Ash Wednesday that when we give alms, fast, and pray that we should do it in secret and not on the streets to win the praise of others (Matthew 6:1-6)? Don’t we frequently hear the quote from St. Francis of Assisi to preach the gospel always and if necessary use words? My heart did a joyful dance when I heard that. Rejoice introverts! All we need to do is live a good life and voila—evangelization!

Turns out St. Francis didn’t say that, though. St. Francis was a holy man whose actions reflected the Lord’s love but he didn’t shy away from speaking about the gospel. Unfortunately, this quote has given people permission to not talk about the gospel for fear of being seen as a kook. It‘s a safe bet that none of us are living so holy a life that our actions are enough. Jesus used lots of words; sometimes the same ones over and over. We are sheep after all.

Nope, Jesus didn’t tell us to take the easy way out. He didn’t say “just focus on yourself, learn some dogma, watch some videos, read some books.” He said, “Go, make disciples!” Those were his parting words. After everything that happened, he told us to do one thing: make disciples. One thing. He told us we may be hated and persecuted (Matthew 5:11-12). But he also told us, “I am with you always until the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

Extroverts and Introverts
Some of the best evangelizers I know describe themselves as extreme extroverts. They are souls who love, love, love being around people. The idea of being home alone reading a book is anathema to them. They spend the day with people and then the evening and the next day and they never seem to tire of personal interaction. Extroverts get energy from others. A crowd … good. A party … good. The doorbell rings … friends! A day home alone … purgatory.

Introverts are the opposite. Those of us who identify as such can be very happy spending a quiet day at home. The more the merrier … nope. A good book by the fireplace … bliss. I love being around people, but they make me so very tired. If my coworkers were in the office every day, I might need to find a new job. Happily two days a week they are off-site and I can recharge for their return, which is no end of fun and exhaustion. If I don’t get quiet, down-time I get twitchy and angsty.

What to do? How does an introvert go and make disciples? It would be tiresome.

Evangelization, going on mission so to speak, is imperative. The Catechism of the Catholic Church reinforces Christ’s directive. While God doesn’t need us to evangelize, “the Church still has the obligation and also the sacred right to evangelize all men” (CCC 848). Well, we can think to ourselves, it’s the job of the Church, as in the parish down the road and priests. Whew. Again, nope. “Lay people also fulfill their prophetic mission by evangelization, that is, the proclamation of Christ by word and the testimony of life. For lay people, this evangelization . . . acquires a specific property and peculiar efficacy because it is accomplished in the ordinary circumstances of the world.” CCC 905

Practical Application
My question has two parts: how should I evangelize and how will I be able to? Giving a talk at a conference a la Fr. Mike Schmitz is not my gift. While I enjoy conferences, I usually leave early and once even spent time a room designated for people who need a quiet space. I enjoy social events, but more is not merrier. Once there are greater than six people around the table, I stop adding to the conversation because there is someone more gregarious than I who is handling it.

I know I need to use words because I’m not holy enough to skate by on action alone, but what does that look like? Evangelization has many forms. God is smart; he gives us gifts to help out. Charisms are given by the Holy Spirit to assist in building his kingdom. Not all require an extroverted personality type. (An aside: A charism is different from talent. When a person is working within a charism, what he or she is doing enables others to experience God.)

Genuine Relationship
If we are to evangelize, we need to be in contact with other people but it doesn’t have to be a party. Evangelization is relational and most effectively done over time with one person at a time—a boon for introverts who operate well in a one on one situation. One of the best ways to evangelize is to walk alongside someone as he or she explores faith. It’s spiritual friendship done over coffee, while on a walk, even over the phone. What’s important is building a genuine relationship with a person and being open to discussing faith. Maybe that means slipping in comments about what your faith means to you. Maybe it’s more direct and you know someone who is looking to discuss Jesus. Whatever it looks like, it means being relational and remembering that the person in front of you is not a project, but a human person. We don’t need to be experts. We aren’t leading the person, merely walking with him or her. The Holy Spirit does the heavy lifting. If asked a question you don’t have an answer to, that’s OK. Commit to looking for the answer, maybe together. Words are needed but they don’t have to be fancy or inspiring or big; they need to be yours and if you’re uncertain what they will be, the Holy Spirit will provide.

Most important, we should remember that we are not doing our own work, we are doing God’s work. He knows who he wants us to invest in and, if we consecrate it to him, he will give us the words we need and the time we need to say them.

As Pope Paul VI made clear in his 1974 encyclical on evangelization, Evangelii Nuntiandi:

“Nevertheless [witness] always remains insufficient, because even the finest witness will prove ineffective in the long run if it is not explained, justified … and made explicit by a clear and unequivocal proclamation of the Lord Jesus. The Good News proclaimed by the witness of life sooner or later has to be proclaimed by the word of life. There is no true evangelization if the name, the teaching, the life, the promises, the kingdom and the mystery of Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God are not proclaimed.”
EN 22

Amen.

Merridith Frediani’s perfect day includes prayer, writing, unrushed morning coffee, reading, tending to dahlias, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three teenagers. She loves leading small faith groups for moms and looking for God in the silly and ordinary. She blogs and writes for her local Catholic Herald in Milwaukee.

When I was finishing my graduate studies in theology, I imagined that I would spend my days as a theologian in an office surrounded by leather-bound books pouring over the translation of a particular Scripture passage, or I’d be in a classroom scrawling on a dusty chalkboard some phrase in Classical Hebrew script, or I’d be lecturing in a hall about the historical-critical method’s place in the rich history of biblical hermeneutics. It’s funny now, I think I imagined myself as a feminist theologian version of Indiana Jones.

I never thought that I would spend an inordinate amount of my adult life repeating the same phrase over and over and over again: “Get in your car seat!” Most of the time, it was followed with an affectionate “Please?” Sometimes it was followed with an equally affectionate “Or else.” Nevertheless, I found myself repeating this phrase multiple times a day to multiple children. As life would have it, I ended up taking a different route than I had earlier imagined: teaching theology to high school students, volunteering in youth ministry, falling in love, getting married, having kids . . . very un-like Dr. Indiana Jones. I wouldn’t change a thing, but sometimes I struggled to find the greater meaning in my day-to-day challenges as a parent of two toddlers.

Like many parents, the car seat is where I had some of my biggest battles. Physically, emotionally, mentally—the car seat was our daily battleground. I, the parent, fought for the virtues of safety, order, responsibility, and obedience. My children fought for independence, comfort, control, and (I think, sometimes) just for fun. It was on one particularly hot August day in the middle of a busy grocery store parking lot that a thought occurred to me.

“Georgie,” I say, “can you get in your car seat so I can buckle you up?” “Mmm. No.” (Not surprising, but at least she made it seem like she was considering my request.) “G,” I continue as sweetly and calmly as possible, “would you like me to teach you how to work the buckles so you can do it all by yourself?” Her five-year-old eyes lit up. “Yeah!” she said as she practically jumped into her car seat.

So I taught her. I spent the next ten minutes or so showing her how to work her arms into the straps, which metal pieces go into where, how to listen for the “click,” and how to check to make sure she’s in safely. I let her do everything—even when it was ninety degrees, someone was waiting for my spot, it took her little hands two minutes to get the latches to engage, and my threeyear- old had broken into a box of goldfish crackers. I wanted to give her ownership of the process and that meant I had to step back a little. Now, before you report me to CPS, of course, I also verified that she was in safely, but only after she was finished. If she missed something, or if an adjustment had to be made, I lovingly pointed it out and allowed her to fix the problem before offering help. The point was that she was now armed with the information, she was in control, she had the ability to do it on her own.

My Instagram-worthy teaching moment had passed and, alas, I was never awarded that “Parent of the Year” trophy when I got home. However, the next morning when it was time to go to the library something wonderful happened. Georgie walked to the car, climbed into her car seat, and buckled herself in. She did the same thing later that afternoon, and again that evening, and all the next day. Every time she would proudly proclaim, “It’s okay Mommy, I got this.” Seriously, where was that trophy? But it’s what happened next that really made me stop and think. Georgie started to ask questions: she wanted to know why she had a special seat in the car, who made the car seat, how does it work, why is it against the rules for her not to use one, when could she sit in the front seat? She was going deeper into her understanding of this daily ritual. And so we had conversations.

We talked about the whys and the hows surrounding this small but meaningful part of her life. And then? She started sharing her newfound knowledge . . . to everyone. Her teachers, the lady at the bank, our neighbor walking his dog: Georgie would stop them all and say, “I buckle myself into my car seat. It’s important. It’s the law because it keeps me safe. Do you want to watch?” The other afternoon, she turned to her sister and asked, “Clemmy, would you like me to teach you how to buckle your car seat? I can show you. It’s a little tricky but I think you can do it.” She had come full circle. A month earlier she had no control; she was forced into this daily procedure with no say of her own. But now? She had become a teacher. By allowing my daughter to participate in the car seat “ritual” on her own, to ask questions, and to share her knowledge, she now felt in control and grew to enjoy the process—even to the point where she wanted to help others find that joy.

I thought to myself: Shouldn’t evangelization and catechesis be the same as these car seat negotiations?

As evangelizers, and additionally as catechists, shouldn’t we take a similar approach to bringing people into the faith—especially when it comes to children, youths, and young adults? As any well-seasoned parent will tell you, a surefire way to turn any kid off from something is by telling or, even worse, forcing them to do it—much like my struggle with the car seat. How can we get the unchurched/de-churched/unaffiliated as excited and passionate about the faith as my daughter now is about car safety? I think the answer lies somewhere at the intersection of giving up a little control, modeling the faith with intention, patience, and grace. We have immense challenges ahead of us when it comes to evangelizing the younger generations today. They are incredibly headstrong and independent—difficult to convince unless it originates as their own idea. This is due, in part, to both their biology and the culture of their generations—factors that we have no real control over. While this “hands-off” approach may not appeal to older generations, the facts of our situation are clear: we need to change our approach if we want to grow the young Church. This doesn’t require a dumbing down of the doctrine nor does it mean ignoring or fundamentally changing Church teaching—it requires us to adapt our evangelizing/teaching style to one that suits the culture.

Obviously, putting a child in a car seat and fostering their Catholic faith are entirely different things, but the way that I choose to approach them is the same: I allow my children to have some sense of ownership, some control, and some sense of understanding rather than force them to complete the task that they do not fully understand. This puts a lot of pressure on me as a parent and teacher. I need to have the patience, I need to take the time, and I need to have the answers to their questions (or at least be able to look them up online). Truthfully, it might be easier to just say “Do it” or “Because I say so,” but then the end result is not the same: the child is in their car seat and the rosary is said, but they have learned to resist or even hate the process because they are forced to do it. I cannot help but wonder what it would look like if we adopted the same approach with the evangelization and catechesis of our young adults today. Would the attention to the sacraments change, would youth participation in the Church be increased, would belief in Church teachings be stronger, would the practice of the rosary or Eucharistic Adoration be more commonplace if we adopted this different teaching style?

Kelly Tramontin is a professional wife, mother, theologian. She studied Theology at Loyola Marymount University where she earned her Masters degree in 2010. She currently lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two daughters.

Over the past few days, if you are a registered parishioner of Cathedral, you should have received information regarding our Season of Stewardship and a commitment card in the mail. This commitment card is what we are asking every Cathedral household to complete and return. If you are not registered and would like to fill out the card, we invite you to do so online at https://spicathedral.org/stewardship-form/ . Everyone is invited to commit to a stewardship way of life and in the process grow deeper in their relationship to Jesus.

So you might be asking, why a commitment card? Why can’t I just make my promise to the Lord? Why would anyone need to know? To answer this, first think about our expression of faith. Intentional discipleship is an outward sign of God’s love and mercy in the world. Going to Mass, making the sign of the cross, are signals to people around you that you believe in Him. The Sacraments are a visible sign of God’s love and blessings in all of our lives. The way we act in our daily lives, our charity or service, is a visible sign of God’s hands and feet in the world. It is through our words, actions, and commitments that we all share the responsibility of discipleship and evangelization in the world.

Secondly, think about other commitments you have made. Have you ever tried to loose weight or make some type of serious change in your life? I have found that when I write down this commitment, and make it known to others, the likelihood of me reaching my goal is significantly higher. Cathedral wants to accompany you! The staff members are committed to helping you connect your faith to stewardship through prayer, service, or giving.

Third, think about the offertory. It is the invitation during the Mass in which we have the opportunity to discern our stewardship for the week ahead. It is our invitation to respond. If you are like me, sometimes it is challenging because we might contribute online, so we are unsure what to “place” as our offering. But, the Season of Stewardship challenges each of us to look at this part of the Mass differently. It challenges us to consider our commitment to stewardship in all ways of discipleship. We adults serve as examples to the young people around us. While I contribute online, my daughter contributes via her allowance and places something in the basket. She knows that Mommy places her gifts in the “online basket” and looks forward to doing that too, one day! Then, she is reminded to consider who she can be praying for this week and how she can help someone this week. It is a great spiritual exercise for family stewardship!

We hope you prayerfully discern your commitment to stewardship as a way of life and place the commitment card in the basket the next time you are at Mass, fill out the form online, or send the form to the Parish Offices.

If you have any questions regarding the Season of Stewardship or your participation in stewardship at the Cathedral, please contact Katie Price in the Parish Offices at [email protected] or call the Parish Offices at 522-3342.

In the Catholic Church, the month of November is traditionally dedicated to the Holy Souls, honored in a special way on November 2nd with the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (more commonly known as “All Souls Day”). This month, therefore, we pay particular attention to our duty as Christians to pray for the dead: those who have gone before us in this life and are now in need of our intercession in order to attain eternal life with God.

But why do Catholics pray for the dead? Well, in short, it’s because we believe in the doctrine of purgatory. However, in my conversations with many faithful and holy Catholics, I get a sense that most people misunderstand or simply “don’t get” what the Church teaches us about purgatory.

So—what is purgatory? According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, purgatory is “a state of final purification after death and before entrance into heaven for those who died in God’s friendship, but were only imperfectly purified; a final cleansing of human imperfection before one is able to enter the joy of heaven.” A soul which has completely rejected God chooses for itself the punishment of hell. A soul which is purified completely of sin in this life, on the other hand, is brought immediately into eternal rest in heaven (and is therefore a saint, whether canonized or not!). But for the other souls—not damnable, but not yet perfected in grace—the Church recognizes a period of purification.

This purification is entirely unlike the punishment of hell in that a soul in purgatory is de facto destined for heaven, but must undergo cleansing from all sin before spending eternity in the unbridled presence of God. How we will experience that purification may indeed be a “refining fire” (your guess is as good as mine!), but there is one very key difference between that and the “fires of hell:” the undying hope of eternal salvation.

One of the effects of the Protestant Reformation was to throw out this doctrine of purgatory, which in my humble opinion was a grave mistake. See, Catholics see purgatory as an extension of God’s unfailing mercy; to throw it out is tantamount to saying that all the souls unworthy of immediate acceptance to heaven (which would be anyone with any attachment to sin left in them!) is banished to hell. I don’t know about you, but I would much rather believe in a God who mercifully purifies those souls not in obstinate refusal of that mercy!

Traditionally, then, the Catholic Church has always understood itself to be comprised of three states: the Church Triumphant (i.e. the saints already rejoicing in heaven), the Church Militant (i.e. us still fighting it out here on earth), and the Church Suffering (or the Church Penitent/Expectant, i.e. those souls currently experiencing purification in purgatory). It has always been understood that one of the great tasks entrusted to the Church Militant is to pray for the eternal repose of the souls of the Church Suffering, to help them by our prayers to attain that purification necessary to enter heaven. It is our spiritual work of mercy, praying for the living and the dead, that aids souls in reaching God.

For that same reason, you may have heard of Masses being “offered” for a deceased loved one (at Cathedral, our practice is to share the intention of the Mass during the petitions). As the Catechism states, the Church has always “honored the memory of the dead and offered prayers in suffrage for them, above all the Eucharistic sacrifice, so that, thus purified, they may attain the beatific vision of God” (emphasis mine). To have a Mass offered for a deceased parent, sibling, child, or friend is perhaps the most loving and fitting way possible to remember your loved ones, for by it, the innumerable and eternal graces of the Mass are applied to their souls.

Unfortunately, fewer and fewer people are making the sacrifice to have Masses offered for their relatives and friends. The process is actually quite simple. The “offering” is traditionally ten dollars (which is our participation in the sacrifice of the Mass), and dates can be requested by contacting your local parish’s secretary.

As our Gospel reminds us, our God is “not God of the dead, but of the living.” May we always remember our responsibility and our privilege to aid our brothers and sisters through their final purification into eternal life, where at last they may see God face to face!

Father Michael Friedel is a Parochial Vicar for the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.

In our efforts to evangelize and proclaim the Gospel, it is good to keep our focus and prayer on the goal of our work—that others will come to faith in Christ and enjoy a personal relationship with him. This intrinsic connection between faith born from evangelization begins with Jesus himself in Mark’s Gospel where his first words are:

 “The time has come and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe the Good News!” (1:15).

For St. John in his Gospel, his entire life of preaching and writing about Christ has been at the service of faith in him:

 “These things have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God and that through your faith in him you may have life” (20:30).

So what then does this faith look like? What kind of faith do we hope to be born from our efforts to evangelize?

A Faith Born from Above.
In the fourth Gospel, Jesus reminds us that

 “no one can come to me unless the Father draws them” (John 6:44).

Faith then is a gift from God born of hearing his Word and seeing it in action (cf. Rom. 10:17). Faith is not our own opinion or achievement. We cannot come to it by our own efforts. Faith does not arrive to us through one single argument or even a series of converging signs. Even when these signs are in place, it takes the gift of the Holy Spirit for us to finally “get it” and to assent to faith with our whole being. This is because the love of God engages the entire human being with all of his or her physical, psychological, and spiritual powers. This is what happened in the case of Lee Strobel as he tells his story in The Case for Christ in the movie based on the book of the same name. He set out to debunk his wife’s faith and gathered all the evidence he could find to prove his case. But while the evidence moved him in the direction of faith, it was the love of his wife and her prayers that finally clinched his assent.

A Faith that Grows.
We often think of faith as something we have or we don’t have. I believe or I don’t believe and those are the only two possibilities. We also can think of faith as something that remains static and doesn’t grow. The truth is that faith can be born or reborn in us at any time, just like it was in the people who encountered Christ in the Gospels. For those who believe, there is an organic quality to faith that we recognize over time. Faith lives and grows. In the Gospels, Jesus often likens the gift of faith to a mustard seed (cf. Matt. 17:20). It begins small but can grow to such a degree that others benefit from it, like birds in the branches of a tree that began its life as a seed. Our faith in Christ is something alive and active. It prompts us to think in new ways, to act differently, and to understand God in bigger terms, beyond the image of him we already have. Faith also takes us beyond our comfort zones, moves us closer to those on the margins, and grounds our faith in the service of truth and charity.

This demands a necessary openness on our part to allow our faith to grow, to be affirmed and to be challenged when necessary. So when it comes to the big questions of our time, we should not be afraid to engage our faith with the confidence that the Holy Spirit gives us. The Gospel message entrusted to us bears within itself the truth that sets humanity free and sets us on course for a better life.

While this task of engaging with the big questions of the world can be difficult and even dangerous, it affords us the opportunity for our faith to be tested and to grow. It is like a muscle of our bodies that grows stronger when it is used and made to work. So far from being something static, our faith is something that progressively changes us to become more Christ-like and sends us on mission in his name. There is a dynamism in faith that invites us to a metanoia or “going beyond the mind we have.” It opens us to new horizons and to see all things with new eyes.

A Faith that Draws Us into Relationship.
Faith is often exclusively associated with religion. So we might hear someone say: “Yes, I have faith, I believe in God”; or, “No, I don’t have faith, I am an atheist.” This is inaccurate because it assumes that only religious people have faith while nonreligious people don’t. The truth is that faith is much more part of everyday life than we realize. As Bishop Barron has often pointed out, if a young man is in a relationship with a girl, he can collect all the data he wants about her, but until she speaks to him, the relationship can never get off the ground. Only when the two parties speak to one another can the trust begin to grow. And if the relationship grows to the point of them wanting to marry, then their decision is still based on faith and trust. By getting married, both put their faith in one another and nourish that trust afterwards as husband and wife.

So it is with God. God has spoken first through his creation and through the history of a people he loved. In the words of St. John:

 “God loved us first” (1 John 4:19).

As Christians we see this love offered to us through the person of Jesus Christ who came to reveal God to us. Faith then is our “Yes” that accepts the truth of what God has spoken and the love for us that he has revealed. Faith is a “Yes” to a “Yes.” It is our “Yes” to God’s “Yes” that comes first. This is the basis of a relationship that unites us to God.

 A Faith in Christ Jesus Our Lord.
Throughout the Gospels, Jesus reveals a God who desires a personal relationship with each of us. Through faith and trust we are invited to know him and be known by him, to be loved by him and to love him in return.

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus invites us to faith in him:

 “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God still and trust in me” (John 14:1); “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will never die” (John 11:25-26).

What an extraordinary claim for anyone to make! There are only two possible responses to this invitation to faith by Jesus. One is to reject him out of hand as a narcissistic madman, and the other is to do exactly what he asks us to do and come to believe in him and who he claims to be. There is no middle ground.

The more we contemplate the life of Christ—his goodness, truth, and beauty—the easier it is to believe in him. First, his goodness —his mercy, his compassion, his patience, his understanding, and his love. He spent his whole life doing good for everyone, and his love gave birth to faith in him. His truth—before Pilate he said that he had come for this, was born for this, to bear witness to the truth, and all who are on the side of truth listen to his voice. Without truth, humanity caves in on itself in deception and fear. His beauty—the life of Jesus was beautiful and radiant with light as revealed at his Transfiguration. And all who are united with him in Spirit radiate that same light and exude the fragrance of his charity. This is why he asks us to be light to the world (Matt. 5:14) and carry the light of his presence to all we meet.

 A Faith to Be Shared.
The gift of faith is not given for ourselves. It is given to be shared. The joy of the Gospel leads us to be people of mission in all kinds of ways. We want others to know God and we desire to lead others to faith in him. We want his kingdom of peace and justice to flourish, and so pray for it and work for it. In this spirit, Pope Francis urges us to “go forth to offer everyone the life of Jesus Christ” (The Joy of the Gospel, 49). Our act of believing must allow the joy of faith to shine through in lives that are centered on the Lord and united to others in community. And it is with others in the family of the Church that our faith is nourished and strengthened to carry it forth to all in Jesus’ name.

For us dedicated to evangelization, the haunting words of Jesus are never far from our hearts:

 “When the Son of Man returns, will he find any faith on earth?” (Luke 18:8).

Evangelization is not an end in itself but is at the service of faith. This article has described five features of that faith: that it is a gift from God that grows, that draws us into relationship, that centers on Jesus Christ, and that leads us to give ourselves away in loving service and mission. May the quality of our own faith be marked by these features so that we can share it confidently and effectively with a skeptical world.

Fr. Billy Swan is a priest of the Diocese of Ferns, Ireland. He holds a degree in chemistry and worked for a number of years for a pharmaceutical company before entering seminary. Ordained in 1998, he served for four years as an associate pastor before further studies in Rome where he was awarded a Licentiate and Doctorate in Systematic Theology from the Gregorian University. He served for four years as the Director of Seminary Formation at the Pontifical Irish College, Rome. He is currently based at St Aidan’s Cathedral, Enniscorthy, Co. Wexford.

Over the next few days, all registered parishioners of the Cathedral and our friends who contribute to the Cathedral will be receiving an invitation from the parish to participate as stewards! Stewardship is the invitation to orient your lifestyle, choices, and habits around God. Through spending time in prayer and service and offering generously from your treasure, you are actively orienting your life toward one in intimate relationship with Jesus and the church. We appreciate the many of you who have consistently responded to this invitation!

If you are curious how your life might change when you become actively engaged in a stewardship way of life, consider these three activities of a steward as an example:

Making time for God in prayer…
What would your morning look like if you grabbed the Bible instead of your phone first thing in the morning (unless of course you read the Bible on your phone)? Would you approach the morning differently? Individuals who start their day in prayer tend to report a better morning routine, a happier demeanor in the morning, and better relationships to family, friends and co-workers.

Helping those in need
Think about the last time you volunteered in service to another. How did you feel? Did you feel accomplishment, purpose, or belonging? Last weekend, Cathedral volunteers helped at the Habitat for Humanity project. These volunteers experienced community building (literally!) and a sense of belonging. While they were able to help another in need, many felt a sense of accomplishment and gratitude for the gifts they have in their lives. When you give, you receive! On the following page, we have a list of ministry opportunities that you are welcome to inquire about and join!

Generously and proportionately giving
What do you normally give up for Lent? Why do you give that up? Lent is a great opportunity to let bad habits die, however stewardship is our constant reminder to detach from those materialistic goods, bad habits, or distractions in our lives that are preventing us from a deeper relationship with God. What items do you find yourself purchasing that you don’t really need? What habits could you down-size or break in order to practice greater tithing to the Parish mission? It is no easy task to change habits- especially financial ones- but this act of trust and joy filled giving can quickly develop into a holier, happier, and healthier lifestyle for you and/or your family!

Stewardship is a disciple’s toolkit and an opportunity is presented to us each time we go to Mass. We have the opportunity during the Offertory to discern our stewardship of prayer, gifts, or service. Think about these three questions the next time you are at Mass:

• Who can I pray for this week?
• How can I help someone this week?
• What can I give to God and His church this week?

Those reflective questions can help guide you toward a more active stewardship way of life!

If you have any questions regarding the Season of Stewardship or your participation in stewardship at the Cathedral, please contact Katie Price in the Parish Offices at [email protected] or call the Parish Offices at 522-3342.

If you would like to fill out the form online, please go here: https://spicathedral.org/stewardship-form/