In a world where we see wars being played out on the evening news, threats of terrorism both foreign and domestic, and where the faithful are challenged and vilified by a secular society, the message of Fatima is still relevant today. Increasingly we live in a society that does not know God or that keeps him at arm’s length. 

Catholics, through tradition, around the world, have dedicated the month of May to the Blessed Virgin Mary. This singular devotion awakens hearts to Mary as the first disciple, the first to love the precious savior, and the first to lead people to Jesus.

Many of us may feel a sense of deprivation and separation, without a community. Empty pews remind us there’s not much to do, but we should see this as a time of retreat – of getting away from all the noise of this world.

The last two months have been very difficult, to say the least. For some of you, your livelihoods have been shaken, and your faith tested. The impact of the Coronavirus has spread terror across the world, bringing illness and death.  In the midst of this pandemic, however, the Paschal Mystery recently celebrated at Easter assures us that neither anguish nor death will have the last word. “Who can separate us from the Love of God…” (Rom 8:35-39).

During February my thoughts turn to two of my favorite biblical figures, Simeon and Anna. Simeon is described in St. Luke’s Gospel simply as “a man in Jerusalem” and Anna as an 84-year-old “prophetess.” These two elders greet Mary and Joseph as they bring their newborn infant to the Temple in Jerusalem to present him to the Lord. We celebrate this moment in Jesus’ life, referred to as the Presentation in the Temple, on Feb. 2.

Advent is a time of expectation, of hope and of preparation for the celebration of the nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ. As I contemplate all that advent is, I am drawn to the saints that have feast days during Advent. Mary, of course, is always top of mind – the Mother of God.

June 20, 2019, marks the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, also known as the Feast of Corpus Christi, which translates from Latin to “Body of Christ.” This feast celebrates the real presence of Jesus Christ in the Holy Eucharist, a central mystery of the Catholic Faith. 

Practically every day, I look out the windows of the rectory and see mothers dropping off their children for school or picking them up in the afternoon. To be fair, there are also fathers, grandparents, and other relatives who do the same, but I’d like to focus on the mothers since they are the majority who do so. I never cease to be amazed at the special skills these mothers possess that enable them to take special care of their children. There is no doubt in my mind about how influential they are and how these mothers are an indispensable gift to their children.

During my time in seminary with the SOLT community in Rome, we would alternate where we would celebrate the Easter Vigil. One year we would attend the Vigil at St. Peter’s Basilica with Pope Saint John Paul II presiding. The next year, in order to have some firsthand experience of organizing, preparing and serving the Easter Vigil, we would celebrate in our humble basement chapel which was within a huge complex belonging to the Christian Brothers of St. John the Baptist de La Salle, from whom we used to rent out a block of rooms. While of course, the papal celebrations were unforgettable in their grandeur, solemnity and beauty, sometimes, the subtle symbolic significance of very profound liturgical gestures would become more apparent while celebrating the Easter Vigil in our basement chapel. There are two such moments that I would like to share with you here.

At the beginning of the Lenten season, I invited myself and all of us in the Diocese of Corpus Christi to embark on a journey that has the potential to transform us and bring us closer to God.  I spoke of bringing to prayer the people who hurt us, those who might not be our friends and pray for them by name. I have experienced in my life that true conversation has its roots in prayer. 

Lent reminds us that we are pilgrims on the path of discipleship, living out the paschal mystery in our lives, each according to our own vocation.

There is something about babbling brooks and running streams that does a soul good. One of the most memorable camping trips that I have ever had was beside such a stream. It was located in a remote part of the Angelina National Forest in East Texas. We had been hiking for a good portion of the day through the thick of the forest, tromping through a lightly trodden trail that had become overrun with brush and vegetation. It appeared that no conservation crews had maintained the trail in a long time, nor had anyone traversed that way for about as long. It was a wonderful feeling of adventure trekking through an area that was far removed from the beaten paths that others had taken.

For many years now, I’ve tried, but have been unable to see them. I’m not sure what I am doing wrong, but I have always been completely oblivious to the hidden images in stereograms.

On the Feast of the Incarnation we celebrate Almighty God’s decision to become man by assuming the body of a human being. The Heavenly Father announced to Mary that she was chosen to be the Mother of God’s only Begotten Son. Mary had been Immaculately conceived in her mother womb, and was made ready from her conception for this supreme moment in the History of the world.

The author of Psalm 24 in his hymn commonly used for the procession with the Ark of the Covenant into the sacred temple, asks “Who can ascend the mountain of the Lord? Who can stand in his holy place?” (Ps. 24:3). The Psalmist must have personally witnessed such an impressive procession and was left to wonder how anyone could enter the holy dwelling of God.

In all my years of working with young people, first as a teacher and now as a diocesan director of family life, I have noticed that chastity is a misunderstood virtue. Today, it seems like everywhere we turn there are messages about “following your heart” and “being true to yourself.”

There has been much in the news these days about individuals acting out in violent ways, bringing pain and suffering to many innocent people. School shootings, vehicles deliberately driving into crowds of people, homemade bombs on doorsteps... It seems to just go on and on. How are younger members of the Church expected to deal with so much violence? More importantly, how are you to respond in faith?

"Now, when they heard this, they were cut to the heart, and they asked Peter and the other apostles, "What are we to do, my brothers?" Peter [said] to them, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is made to you and to your children and to all those far off, whomever the Lord our God will call." He testified with many other arguments, and was exhorting them, "save yourselves from this corrupt generation." Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand persons were added that day." Acts 2: 37-41

One of the greatest and most beautiful gifts of our God is his mercy. Our Holy Father Francis tells us that mercy is another name for “love.” The love of God for all human beings, his creatures.

I believe all of us have somehow experienced having privileges in relationships, in work, in the office or at least in the family. One of the meanings that the dictionary gives us for the word privilege is that it is “a special treat or honor.” Usually, we are proud of being treated with some privilege because it is “an advantage, a right or benefit that is not available to everyone.”