When I was a child, I often thought of the Church as something mystical and supernatural. I wasn’t wrong in my understanding of the Body of Christ, for surely the Church has these characteristics. However, even though we speak about the foundation of all we are as Church being the “mystery of Christ,” Jesus became a man so that supernatural element could break into the natural world in a profound way. What we once could not see, we now see. What we saw as a God in a distant place now dwelt among us. It is one of the aspects of Catholicism that I have grown to appreciate the most as I have matured: for a Catholic, the supernatural is natural. The communion of saints is heavenly and earthly at the same time.

The Beatitudes instruct us about this reality. Pope Francis reminds us that holiness is “not about swooning in mystic rapture.” Holiness is about living in the real world and doing extraordinary things with our ordinary lives. Our stewardship way of life consists of actions in the natural world that have extraordinary repercussions.

Do not ever take your simple actions of generosity and love for granted. As disciples called to a life of stewardship, we participate in something more profound than what we can see. We are blessed to be called to follow Jesus, and we bring blessing to all those with whom we choose to share ourselves.

Tracy Earl Welliver is a Catholic author, speaker, consultant, and Gallup-certified Strengths coach with over 25 years experience in parish ministry. He is currently the Director of Parish Community and Engagement for LPI.

If you have ever seen the 1964 Oscar winning movie Becket, you may recall a scene where Archbishop (Saint) Thomas Becket, played by Richard Burton, excommunicates an English nobleman as part of an epic clash between the Archbishop of Canterbury and Henry II, King of England, some 350 years before the English Reformation. The scene is masterful, showing the use of a ritual once nicknamed “Bell, Book, and Candle” for the elements used in the rite. However, the scene belongs more to Hollywood than to present use in the Church.

Recently, the governor of New York, a Catholic, has ignited a firestorm in the U.S. Church with his boisterous support of new sweeping pro-abortion legislation in New York State. The response of many among the faithful has been a call for his excommunication from the Church. For many, the notion of excommunication is a casting out, a spiritual condemnation as pronounced in the famous scene from Becket:

“We declare him excommunicate and anathema. We cast him into the outer darkness. We judge him damned with the devil, and his fallen angels, and all the reprobate to eternal fire and everlasting pain.”

That was our understanding several centuries ago, but not today.

Today, excommunication is a medicinal remedy in canon law and is used to bring about a hoped-for change in a person. Diocesan bishops do not have the authority to excommunicate members of their respective dioceses at will, but can only do so following a canonical investigation and procedure as to whether or not an act punishable by excommunication has been committed. Ultimately, neither a bishop nor the Church excommunicates anyone. Excommunication is a consequence of one’s own actions , whereby a person removes themselves from communion with the Church either by a grave act contrary to the life of the Church or by publicly holding a belief that is heretical. A bishop declares that an excommunication has taken place after, and only after, he has beseeched the person to repent of their actions and to return to the communion of the Church.

The effects of excommunication are threefold. First, a cleric (bishop, priest, or deacon) cannot celebrate or participate in any liturgical or sacramental celebrations. Second, a person who is excommunicated cannot receive any of the sacraments except Reconciliation as a part of the excommunication being lifted. Third, a person who is excommunicated cannot hold any office or exercise any function within the Church. What excommunication does not do is remove someone from being Catholic; belonging to the Church and being in communion with her are two distinct realities. An excommunicated Catholic remains a Catholic, but is formally forbidden from participating from any aspect of the Church’s life. This is only done in the hope that the one excommunicated will understand the gravity of their actions, repent, and return to the fullness of the faith.

Concerning the governor of New York and abortion, canon 1398 in the Code of Canon Law states that procuring an abortion is punishable with excommunication and some are calling for the invocation of canon 1329 that allows for accomplices to such an act to also be excommunicated. The challenge here with Catholic politicians is the debate over their involvement with abortion legislation, whether it is proximate to the act or remote, with many canonists arguing that it would be difficult to prove proximate cooperation in a canonical trial. Another area that some canonists are urging to be investigated is canon 1369, which calls for a just penalty for those who gravely harm public morals.

Whether or not either these arguments would hold up in a canonical trial is debatable, but what is already present is canon 916, which calls on all who are conscious of grave sin to refrain from receiving the Holy Communion, which itself is one of the consequences of excommunication. The average person, Catholic or not, knows the Church’s position on the evil that is abortion. The governor of New York, in an op-ed piece from the Wall Street Journal this past Wednesday, acknowledged his own understanding of the Church’s teaching on the matter as well as his own choice not to follow it.

So, what do we need to do? We need to pray that our country comes to a deeper understanding of the sacredness of human life. We need to pray that those in public office will have the courage to place what is right, good, and holy, over personal ambition. In our own lives, we need to be conscious of our own need for conversion and those acts or beliefs that may wound our own communion with the Church, which is the Mystical Body of Christ

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

Have you ever participated in various trust exercises, where you have to place your faith in others around you? Maybe it was falling backwards with your eyes closed while the person’s voice speaking to you seemed to drift further away. Maybe it was jumping from a height into people’s arms that didn’t seem strong enough to catch you. These activities were supposed to show you the meaning of trust and help grow that trust in you for your comrades. Sometimes it worked. Other times, some prankster would actually let you fall, and then you learned to trust no one. So much for building up our ability to trust.

Trust is important, especially in our relationship with Jesus. He calls us all the time and asks for us to trust. However, because of doubt or a desire to follow our own will, we choose to disregard his request. After objecting to Jesus’ request to lower his net into the water, Peter was humbled when he caught so much fish that the net began to tear. Peter was a fisherman by trade. Surely he knew what the catch was probably going to be that day. But Jesus asked him to follow his will. Peter wanted to follow his own. Peter realized that his trust from then on should be in the Lord.

Do you sometimes think your generosity will bear little fruit? Do you wonder if your surrender to God in stewardship living really amounts to much at all? Trust in Jesus, the one who calls you to this life. His word is truth, and he would never let you fall.

Tracy Earl Welliver is a Catholic author, speaker, consultant, and Gallup-certified Strengths coach with over 25 years experience in parish ministry. He is currently the Director of Parish Community and Engagement for LPI.

“Does this item spark joy?” I asked myself for the hundredth time, holding an old but well-loved T-shirt in my hands. Like many people around the country, I have been swept up by the “KonMari” method, Marie Kondo’s process of decluttering your home that started a worldwide trend first with her book “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” and now with her Netflix show, “Tidying Up.”

But as I dutifully followed her advice by getting rid of things that didn’t “spark joy” (which, according to Ms. Kondo is akin to the feeling you get when holding a puppy), I started to ask myself, “What am I getting out of this besides bare kitchen counters and neatly folded socks?” Joy has to be more than the contentment of a tidy house. How could I simplify my life and my habits to spark joy in my faith? Once I reconsidered the question, the process became more valuable, and I realized the ethos of this diminutive Japanese woman whose folding methods have made headlines nationwide, actually has a great deal of relevance to our Christian beliefs.

Letting go

One of the major problems that Ms. Kondo helps people tackle is letting go of all the stuff in their life. Whether due to perceived or sentimental value, we cling to belongings thinking they will add to our lives, only to be dragged down by their emotional weight. While the show focuses on physical items, the idea of letting go of the intangible is equally important. As I got rid of the stuff in front of me, I started thinking about the stuff within:

• Are there grudges or preconceived notions I am holding against someone that prevent me from being a good neighbor?
• Are there negative thoughts from the latest news cycle taking up room in my head?
• Are there sins I am holding onto because of pride or stubbornness that are getting in the way of my spiritual life?
• The idea of letting go made me realize not only the benefits of a daily Examen but our regular need for confession.

Gratitude

If you have watched even one episode of “Tidying Up,” you notice that every person is instructed to say “thank you” to each item with which they choose to part. While I admit I didn’t do this every time, this idea of gratitude resonates. Being grateful is the antidote to so many destructive feelings: jealousy, hatred, selfishness, egotism, greed. Yet it is easy to lose it in this age of lifestyle bloggers and Instagram. By showing gratitude for all my stuff, I was able to reexamine other ways I could practice gratitude.

• Am I waking up each morning with a grateful heart and prayer of thanks to God?

• Am I expressing my gratitude through words and deeds to my fellow humans?

• Am I modeling gratitude with my children by regularly expressing our thanks together?

Generosity

The culmination of each show ends not only with a tidier home but trash bags—dozens and dozens of trash bags filled with items that will be donated and hopefully find use in another home. In our quest to discover what sparks joy, we encounter things we no longer want or need. This reflection of wants vs. needs is not only beneficial to us but to our neighbors and allows us to examine if we are practicing generosity.

• Are there items in my life that could better be used by someone else?
• Am I being a good earthly steward by being a responsible, careful consumer?
• Am I researching and selecting charities that align with my beliefs?

Time

Many will realize that the true beauty of minimizing and simplifying your life, whether you wholeheartedly dive into the KonMari method or not, is not the result of a tidy home. Rather, it is the time and space you receive in return for getting rid of the tangible and emotional clutter in your life. By tackling this decluttering challenge, I was able to also reflect how I was spending my time.

• Am I making enough time for the important people in my life?
• Are there unnecessary obligations that take my time away?
• Am I spending my time wisely or wasting it on mindless entertainment?
• Am I taking time to rest and pause throughout the day?

While I love dressing up my children weekly for Mass, going through this assessment made me realize this practice did not spark joy in my children’s sweatshirt-loving hearts. Instead, the getting-ready routine caused us stress and anxiety on what should be a peaceful day. So, we got rid of the fancy clothes and mutually agreed upon one “church outfit,” which they now wear every week without argument. There are adorable kids’ clothes that my own children will never wear, and we won’t likely ever show up beaming on Instagram with #Sundaybest, but we have a bit of our peaceful Sunday back and that’s all that matters.

By letting go of what I wanted and looking at the bigger picture of what is important for my faith and family, I was able to find that joy everyone is talking about.

My house will never be completely tidy. It will be littered with fingerprints, lone socks, hardened Play-Doh, and errant Legos for years to come. But by minimizing and simplifying my home with a focus on what is important to our family’s spiritual life, I hope to create a space where our faith can flourish.

Katie Waite is a freelance writer and high school teacher who lives in the Washington, D.C., metro area with her husband, three kids, and dog. She tends to write humorous pieces focused on faith, family, or finances. She also writes occasionally on her blog comomedy.com.

As perhaps most of you have seen in our Weekly, we are reintroducing Adoration to our parish, beginning Tuesday, February 5. These “Holy Hours” will take place from 4 pm to 5 pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays, concluding with Benediction before the 5:15 pm daily Mass (the Sacrament of Confession will still be offered from 4:15 pm to 5 pm).

It’s an exciting opportunity to commit ourselves—and our parish —to spending intentional time away from the busyness and distractions of daily life to be with our Lord, who asked His disciples, “Could you not watch with me for one hour?”

But all of this begs the question: what is Adoration and what do I do for a whole hour before our Lord? (Don’t worry—we’ve all thought it!)

What we commonly call “Adoration” is actually properly termed “ Eucharistic Exposition,” which consists of exposing the Blessed Sacrament in a monstrance (from the Latin monstrare, which just means “to show”). At the beginning of the hour, then, a priest or deacon will expose our Eucharistic Lord in the monstrance, sing a hymn, and proclaim a reading from Scripture. The faithful are then invited to pray in silence in the presence of Jesus, which— admittedly—can be a little intimidating if you’ve never done it before.

So what is “proper” in spending an hour with our Lord, exposed at the altar? Well, the short answer is: prayer! However that looks for you. Some might find it easy to recollect themselves, sitting quietly in the Lord’s presence. Meditation, most simply put, is just being with the Lord, relating your joys and your sorrows to Him, delighting in Him even as He delights in you.

But for some (and I would argue most, especially as our culture has devalued quiet and calm in favor of the fast-paced and attention-getting), this is not an easy practice. Conversing with our Lord should be our primary focus, no doubt. But here are a few tips for when the silence becomes challenging and you’re tempted to quit—a few spiritual practices which can be an aid to your prayer:

• Many find it helpful to bring a list of people or things they have promised to pray for.
• If you’re an extrovert and external processor like me, you might find it helpful to write your prayers in the form of a journal (for me, at least, this practice usually keeps my mind from wandering to my to-do list or the otherwise trivial things that pop into my mind and helps me focus on praying at length on one particular person, situation, passage of Scripture, or grace).
• Bringing a Bible and practicing the age-old art of lectio divina (“Ok Google: what is lectio divina?”) can be another way of getting in touch with God through His revealed Word. •Spiritual reading is also a great way to spend a part of your holy hour, engaged in the lives of the saints or reading a classic on prayer or the spiritual life.

Honestly, how you spend your time in Adoration is secondary. What is primary is that you spend time with our Lord, who desires us no matter how distracted we come and pursues us now matter how far we stray.

When I was in college (before I entered seminary), a priest once told me: if you want to be holy, spend an hour in Adoration every day and come to daily Mass; it will change your life. I can honestly say that the effects weren’t immediate or even perceptible. But the Lord did change my life. He has a way of doing that, if we let Him.

Father Michael Friedel is a Parochial Vicar at the Cathedral.

Hello. My name is Kevin Keen. I am a Lector at the 7:00am Sunday mass. I transferred to Cathedral as a parishioner many years ago from Sacred Heart Church in the St. Katherine Drexel parish. There, I served as a reader and thoroughly enjoyed my experience there.

After transferring to Cathedral, I wanted to continue this service, but was intimidated by its size and grandeur. I quickly discovered however that in a church large or small, Gods message remains the same. The delivery of that message was the same as well.

I summoned the courage and volunteered to read and have doing so ever since. Reading at mass makes me feel like part of the “team” that shares the good news each week. Realizing that I am sharing the stories of our Lord, I take pride in my delivery and am humbled to participate in this role.

I encourage anyone who might consider becoming a lector to give it a try. Don’t let the size of the church or the number of people you address influence your decision. As the ad says, “Just do it” You’ll be glad you did.

Kevin Keen is a Cathedral Parishioner involved in many ministries, including liturgical ministry and the Fr. Augustine Tolton Knights of Columbus Council.

The Fr. Augustine Tolton Knights of Columbus Council 16126 donated a check for $660.27 during their telethon today with funds collected from our annual Individuals with Disabilities Campaign, AKA, “Tootsie Roll Drive” which we held in the fall at White Oaks Mall. Thank you to everyone who supported from the Cathedral community!

In the photo from the council is Grand Knight Kevin Keen and Trustee Stephen Williamson.

How we do something is just as important as why we do it. As Christians, we are well aware of the injunction to serve the poorest and the most vulnerable. The prophets of Israel continually challenged the Hebrew people with this message and berated them for ignoring it. Our Lord Jesus himself makes it the criteria for judgment and distinction between the “sheep” and the “goats” in the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel. “…when I was hungry … thirsty … a stranger … naked … sick … in prison …”

In a general sense, we have the “why” down. It is important to serve the poor. God wants us to. We will be judged on how we treat others. O u r awareness of the dignity of the human person calls us to service. We have received so we, in turn, must give. Christ has a love for the poor so we, as his disciples, must also love the poor. There are blessings and life to be found in serving the poor. These and many more reasons make up the “why” of service.

The “how” is of more debate. Are the poor best served by advocating for justice, lobbying Congress, developing programs, volunteering at a soup kitchen, requiring service hours, helping people to help themselves, attending a fundraiser or adopting a child for a Christmas Angel Tree? Should we stick with just immediate needs or, as the moral tale goes, head upstream in order to determine the source and font of the unease and violence of poverty? When it comes to the “how” things seem to quickly get very complicated – even political and partisan.

I do not pretend a full answer to the “how” of serving the poor. But I would like to propose two helpful principles in guiding service to the poor that I, personally, have learned from the Community of Sant’Egidio; both of which, I believe, are firmly rooted in the gospel message. The first is faithful friendship with the poor and the second is service as a community.

It is a truism that there are unintended consequences to all actions we take, even the most altruistic and kind-hearted. More and more often, I find myself wondering if many of our common approaches to service to the poor might actually have the effect of highlighting the poor as a “means to an end” rather than as a person and therefore, a possible friend. We go to the nursing home to get our service hours. We participate in a Thanksgiving Day meal or a Christmas gift program in order to feel and understand what the season is about. We serve the poor to get God’s favor. Clubs, fraternities, schools, organizations and businesses get recognition for what they do for the disadvantaged.

I do not mean to downplay the great good that is occurring and also the sincere effort but I would like to raise a simple question: “Why not the possibility of simple friendship with the poor?” Is it so strange a concept? When the poor are viewed solely as a means to an end then, yes, it is a strange concept and one that a right thinking person would not even bother with. When it is recognized that friendship is possible well, then that changes things. Friends have expectations, friends make demands, true friendship takes time, commitment and faithful presence to grow yet friendship also fulfills a deep yearning of every human heart and true friendship affords a unique and important dynamic in helping oneself grow in authentic personhood. In the Community of Sant’Egidio it is said that the only thing the poor have to give is their desire that we return. Is this not the human condition before God?

Service to the poor that affords, encourages and even “structures in” the possibility of friendship should be a guiding principle of all Christian service. The term “structures in” might need some development. Let me do so by sharing an example. Every Christmas, the communities of Sant’Egidio are encouraged to offer a Christmas Day Meal or “Pranzo” for the poor. The community in Johnson City, TN has done this for a few years now. After the first year I proudly reported that we had offered a nice buffet style dinner for a good number of people. A little later Paola, the community president in the U.S., gently encouraged me to consider for the next year a sit-down style dinner with the poor being served as if they were at a restaurant – probably a common experience for many people but not so common for the poor. How we do things is important. Can we look at what we do, can we tweak it in such a way that dignity is acknowledged and therefore friendship is possible? It may take a little more effort, a little more creativity on our part to “structure in” for the possibility for friendship but this little bit extra does set a truly important tone and perspective.

As far as I know, Jesus never sent any person out alone on mission. When disciples went out on mission, sent by our Lord, they went out as at least two. There is value in community and there is value in serving the poor as a community. When I serve with others I have someone to share my thoughts with, I have someone to share a word or an insight when I might be lacking, I have another to share concern with and think new possibilities – other sets of eyes and ears, other hearts to care and minds to imagine. When I am alone in my service I have none of this. Recognizing how our Lord himself sent out his disciples in community, Sant’Egidio encourages service and friendship with the poor to be lived as community and not alone and individual. On our own we are too easily lost and too easily disillusioned. Service can easily become rigid and perfunctory. My experience is that a moment with the poor often has an Emmaus dynamic to it – the Lord is present but we often only recognize him in hindsight as our hearts burn within us and as we share together. It is good for disciples to serve together and it is good for disciples to share together. Apparently, Jesus thought so.

How we do something is just as important as why. Faithful friendship with the poor and serving as community are two truly important components of the “how” of Christian service.

Fr. Michael Cummins is a priest of the Diocese of Knoxville, TN. Ordained in 1995, he has served in a variety of roles within his diocese. Currently he is serving as pastor of St. Dominic Church in Kingsport, TN. Fr. Cummins holds a Masters of Divinity and Licentiate in Sacred Theology from the University of St. Mary of the Lake (Mundelein Seminary) in Chicago.

For many of us, as we move through the new year, our thoughts turn to getting healthy by watching what we eat and hitting the gym. But the reality of winter presents us with some health challenges, as contagious illnesses like colds and the flu make their annual rounds. When we get sick in the winter months, darker days and colder weather can compound the misery of the experience.

Whether you’re laid low with something acute, like the flu, or something chronic you struggle with all year long, it can be tough to find comfort for your soul when your body feels so wretched. Thankfully, the Bible offers a wealth of encouragement for such times. If you’ve ever read the Book of Psalms, you know that these ancient prayers of praise (and sometimes even anger or despair) resonate on a deep level even today. Though you may have read the psalms in the midst of other trials in the past, perhaps it’s time for a fresh look at how they can serve as a source of hope and comfort for illness. Here are five psalms to turn to when you’re sick.

Psalm 6: God hears us

Sometimes when you don’t feel well, don’t you just want someone to commiserate with you? If you can’t call upon loved ones to share the pain of your illness, try praying along with David, the author of Psalm 6. This biblical “man after God’s own heart” knew well the burden of unrelenting affliction. In this totally relatable cry for mercy, he pleads with God, “O Lord, heal me, for my bones are in agony. My soul is in anguish. How long, O Lord, how long?” The psalm ends with the helpful reminder that “the Lord has heard my cry for mercy; the Lord accepts my prayer.” We, too, can rest in the knowledge that no matter how God may choose to answer, he does hear and accept our prayers.

Psalm 38: You’re not in this alone

Though most psalms point to God’s enduring faithfulness and eventual deliverance, they don’t all end neatly tied up with a bow. But that doesn’t mean they don’t still bring comfort. I personally find enormous amount of encouragement in Psalm 38, where David offers up a litany of his sufferings. “There is no health in my body,” he laments. His wounds “fester and are loathsome,” his back “is filled with searing pain.” To me, it’s good to read that my suffering is not unique. There’s solidarity in remembering that even (or especially) God’s beloved saints have endured illnesses just as bad—or far worse—than mine.

Psalm 41: God is Healer

Psalm 41 contains perhaps the most comforting verse in all of Scripture for anyone struggling with sickness: “The Lord will sustain him on his sickbed and restore him from his bed of illness.” While we know that God doesn’t heal every illness—and when he does, it’s always on his own timeline—this psalm testifies to the sustaining grace he offers our souls when our bodies fail us.

Psalm 35: Fight back against illness

In Psalm 35, David asks the Lord to “contend with those who contend with me”—meaning King Saul’s army that pursued David as he fled through the desert. But in my own life, I like to use this psalm as a rallying cry against the invading agents that assault my body during a sickness. I picture the “attackers gathered against me when I was unaware” as the bacteria or virus that’s making me sick. And I pray that, like David’s pursuers, they may they be scattered far away. In a final, beautiful affirmation, this psalm ends by declaring that God loves it when his children are healthy: “The Lord delights in the well-being of his servant.”

Psalm 73: Don’t compare and despair

When I’m sick, it’s all too easy to look at others who feel fine and get jealous or resentful. Why am I the one stuck here suffering?, I wonder. It’s not fair! The writer of Psalm 73 apparently felt the same way. “They have no struggles; their bodies are healthy and strong,” he notes about those around him. Still, by the psalm’s end, he circles back to the truth of God’s perpetual presence: “Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand.” He even finds peace in detaching from the comparison trap: “But, as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge.”

The psalms not only offer encouragement for recovery from sickness, but remind us that suffering is part of the human condition. God’s understanding of—and compassion for— sickness comes through loud and clear in these ancient poems. May you find comfort and healing as you read them during an illness.

Sarah Garone is a Catholic wife, mom, nutritionist, food blogger, and freelance writer in Mesa, Arizona. When she’s not cooking up something healthy and delicious in the kitchen (or cooking up ideas for writing), you can find her sharing recipes and reflections at “A Love Letter to Food.” (http://alovelettertofood.com/)