The Creative Power of Love

April 26, 2024/0 Comments/in Love, Spiritual Life/by Rick Clements

The Creative Power of Love

Love is creative. Love is transformative. Love can create something good that was not there before. Love can take what is there and transform it into something better.

The Christian faith teaches that God created the universe ex nihilo: out of nothing. Not out of some pre-existing primordial matter, but out of nothing. The entire cosmos, everything that exists in the universe, all created out of nothingness. How could that be? How could God possibly have created everything that exists, including ourselves, out of nothingness? By the creative power of love. That is why the Christian faith also teaches that God created the universe ex amore: out of love. Love can make be. Love can bring something into existence that did not exist before. Finding and approving of the good in other people (and ourselves) is actually a form of participation in creation, in God’s creative power, because it is a participation in God’s creative love.

Purely human love can be transformative (as exemplified, at a simple level, by what has been referred to as the “Pygmalion effect”), but just think of what love can do when it is the divine love flowing through us, the divine love that created everything that exists and sustains everything in being from moment to moment! If we take the time and effort to look carefully, we can see goodness in other people that we may never have noticed before. In fact, we can sometimes see goodness in them that they have never noticed before! We may even be able to see goodness in them that is not actually there yet! When we look at another person with an open mind and an open heart, we can see into the possible future. We can catch a glimpse of God’s bright image of that person. We can catch sight of the God-given potential for goodness in that person, a vision of who and what God created that person to be. We can see that person, at least partially, through God’s eyes. And when we communicate that goodness to the person in whom we see it, when we convey our approval of the goodness we see in that person, that approval can transform them. That approval, that encouragement of the good and the potential for good in the other person, can cause them to blossom and thrive like never before. Some parents know this. Some teachers know this. Some coaches know this. They have seen it happen firsthand. In fact, one of the most rewarding experiences one can ever have as a parent, as a teacher, or as a coach, is to watch something good and beautiful appear in your child, in your student, in your athlete, that was not there before, or that was at best partial and undeveloped, in response to your approval and your encouragement of that person.

God has given each of us the incredible privilege, and the serious responsibility, of participating in the creative, transformative power of love. Take the time today to stop and notice the goodness in at least one person, and to praise them for that goodness. You just might transform someone’s life.

* This article is based on an excerpt from Rick’s latest book, The Book of Love: Brief Meditations. Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Sanctifying Habits: What is God Asking of Me Today?

April 12, 2024/2 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Catholic Writing and Publishing, Devotionals, Family Life, Spiritual Life/by Maria Riley

Sanctifying Habits: What is God Asking of Me Today?

Habits and routines are such strange things. When I’m establishing them, it feels like dragging a screaming toddler uphill in the snow, and then breaking them is as easy as that same toddler falling asleep in her car seat the minute she’s strapped in. Seriously. I can work for months and months and solidify a productive routine, and the moment that something throws me off, it’s like I’m starting from scratch again.

The crazy thing is that this is true even if I plan and take time for a valid reason. I allow myself a break from writing when I have family vacations or I recognize my need for rest. I am a wife and mom before I’m a writer, and when my family needs me, I let my writing habits fall away.

When I allowed myself some honest silence with Jesus about this, I realized I’m struggling with feelings of inadequacy. I see what other people are doing. I hear about their book launches and new contracts. I watch their reels on social media and see their following count. I read the lives of the saints, and their virtue seems unattainable. I can’t possibly be as amazing as Joan or Faustina or Thérèse. When I see what everyone else is accomplishing, I feel like I’m falling short.

In His mercy, God spoke to me in the silence. He told me that He doesn’t want me to be like Joan or Faustina or Thérèse—because I’m not them. I’m Maria. And He has a special, completely unique mission for me. I can’t possibly be like any of the great saints, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be a great saint in my very own way.

Theodore Roosevelt wisely said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” I can’t count the number of times I’ve shared a version of this quote with my kids. It comes out of my mouth in ways like, “Be grateful for what you have”; “If all you think about is what you’re missing out on, you’ll be miserable”; or “Look at what you do have! Focus on that!” Not surprisingly, I don’t have the eloquence of Theodore Roosevelt, but the sentiment is the same.

If only I had the ability to take my own good advice. I can be astonishingly wise when it comes to parenting and remain quite dense when it comes to myself.

Learning about the great saints of our Faith is a joy. Having powerful intercessors in Heaven whom I can call on during my difficult times is an unmatched blessing. Feeling inspired by their willingness to give everything to Christ is, well, inspiring.

Thinking I’m failing in my vocation because my life doesn’t look like theirs? Now that is worthless. A complete waste of time and energy. I heard a priceless gem while listening to The Endow Podcast this week:

God doesn’t recycle.

God is constantly creating anew. Every single snowflake is unique. No two flowers are identical. And no one else in the entire history (or future) of the world had or will have the same soul, experiences, thoughts, ideas, disappointments, relationships, situations, creativity, frustrations, or wonder as me. I’m the one and only me.

God loves me so much He not only created me, but He then continues to give me encounters for my own sanctification. God deeply desires for me to become a great saint, and He knows exactly who I am, what I’m capable of, and what my circumstances are. He calls me today from right where I am.

So today I am composing an imperfect blog post and getting myself back on track. What is God asking of you today?

Lord, I Want to See

March 22, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Writing and Publishing, Love, Spiritual Life/by Rick Clements

Lord, I Want to See

Most of us are not physically blind, but we all suffer from at least some degree of spiritual blindness. And one of the most common types of spiritual blindness is not being able (or willing) to see the good in other people. Striving to open our hearts and minds to see the good in every other human being is an important first step, but it’s generally not enough. We need some help. Divine help. We need God’s help to love in the deepest sense of the word. We need God’s help to love as God loves. We need God to instill the divine love in us, to infuse us with the divine love, so that we can then love others with the divine love. And being able to love others as God loves them requires first and foremost that we be able to find and focus upon the good in each and every person.

We all need to pray on a regular basis for that grace, especially with regard to the most difficult people and the most difficult situations in our lives. We need to pray for God to transform our way of looking at, and thinking about, other people. We need to pray for a God’s-eye view, so to speak. We need to pray to be able to see with the eyes of Christ, who during his earthly life always saw the potential for good in people even when others could not. We need to pray for our hearts and minds to be transformed into the heart and mind of Christ. We all need to join with the blind beggar who repeatedly asked Jesus to help him as Jesus was passing by him on his way to Jericho. Touched by the man’s persistence, Jesus stopped and asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man immediately replied, “Lord, I want to see” (Luke 18:41; NIV). As people who are so often blind, whether willfully or inadvertently, to the good in others, let us join in the blind man’s entreaty: Lord, help us to see!

* This article is based on an excerpt from Rick’s latest book, The Book of Love: Brief Meditations.

Photo by David Travis on Unsplash

Saint Joseph: A Man for All Women

March 13, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Writing and Publishing, Faith, Family Life, Saints, Spiritual Life/by Mary McWilliams

Saint Joseph: A Man for All Women

Forget all your impressions and expectations of the “leading man” or “action hero.” Only one man can truly be described as the “strong, silent type.” For all the winning generals in history, it was a humble carpenter who outwitted the evil King Herod, putting an end to the plan to disrupt salvation history. For all the outstanding preachers and theologians who so deftly interpret the word of God, just one groom waiting for his betrothed to enter his home understood so clearly and personally God’s messages to him and the world. For all the loving husbands past and present, one cherished his wife’s purpose and mission so much he made it his own. Out of all the devoted fathers who ever lived, only one was chosen to successfully raise and protect the Savior of the World.

That’s why St. Joseph, spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary, foster father to the Son of God, and head, provider, and protector of the Holy Family is not just a man’s man, but a woman’s man―at every stage, difficulty, and season of her life.

Scripture presents St. Joseph as a man of faith and action. In Meet Your Spiritual Father, author Mark Miravalle lists 13 “major New Testament references” to his life (pp 25-26). St. Joseph’s success in all these life and death missions can be boiled down to a knowledge of Scripture and love of God, which gave him the willingness and confidence to act. Unlike the young Samuel who did not know the Lord and therefore, did not recognize His voice when He repeatedly called him (cf. 1 Samuel 3:7), God’s word through His messenger angels provided clarity to St. Joseph to respond immediately (cf. Mt 1:20-25, Mt 2:13-15).

St. Joseph, therefore, is a great intercessor, leading women to clarity for action and to delve into the Word of God. He brings devotees ultimately to know and hear God’s voice. The Litany of St. Joseph provides no fewer than 24 roles and wonders this great and underappreciated man is known for, all of which are beautifully and comprehensively detailed in Fr. Donald Calloway’s book, Consecration to St. Joseph.

St. Joseph was the strength center of his family. Women―single and married, with children and without, who are providers, protectors, and caretakers―are also often expected to be the strength center of their lives. In the most supportive of environments, parenting takes wisdom, patience and many other virtues that few of us have even on a good day. Many mothers are the head of the family. St. Joseph, ever the provider and protector of the Holy Family, listened for and heeded the Divine messages he received. He knew that the Father would lead him; he just needed to listen. It could only be Joseph’s unyielding devotion to the Lord and study of scripture that led him without hesitation to listen to the angel who spoke to him in a dream, understanding its significance to mankind (cf. Matthew 1:21-23).

Single women who desire to be married can ask for St. Joseph’s intercession to find a good man. God chose Joseph specifically for Mary. He wants to choose a good man for each woman, but He wants to be asked. Single women can ask St. Joseph to pray on their behalf to the Holy Spirit to reveal and discern when the right man comes along. St. Joseph saw Mary’s grace-filled and sinless soul, and his prayerful intercession can help women see themselves as the beautiful and pure souls that God created.

Women who are without fathers, either through abandonment or death, can find comfort in St. Joseph. God entrusted him to care for the Blessed Virgin and the Son of God. If he can take care of them, he can take care of every girl feeling the loss of her father. Any girl or woman who misses her father can ask St. Joseph to be her foster father and help lead her to the Father of us all.

Aging raises uncomfortable issues―added dependence on family and strangers, financial strain, and health difficulties. Thoughts, not just of dying, but how we will die become more prominent. These are frightening thoughts as we relinquish more control over our daily lives. St. Joseph lived his life with chastity and dignity. Pray for his guidance entering later years, to look upon a life with humility and benevolence, seek the peace of Jesus Christ with the assistance of a strong confessor, and to prepare for a happy death.

St. Joseph, pray for us women.

Photo: Stained glass window of Mary & Joseph by Valentine D’Ogries. Photo by Mary McWilliams

References:
Consecration to Saint Joseph. Donald H. Calloway, MIC. 2020, Marian Press. Stockbridge, MA.
Meet Your Spiritual Father: A Brief Introduction to St. Joseph. Mark Miravalle. 2015, Lighthouse Media, Sycamore, IL & Marian Press, Stockbridge, MA.

The Power of a Smile

March 8, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Devotionals, Faith, Family Life, Hope, Spiritual Life/by Maria Riley

The Power of a Smile

When my kiddos were young, the local YMCA was a saving grace. My four daughters, ages four and under, loved playing in the childcare area almost as much as I loved a chance to pee uninterrupted. My mom-friends also belonged to the Y, so it was as much a playdate for me as it was for the kids.

At the YMCA, I learned that I do actually enjoy working out when it’s not a mandatory school class. I took various group classes that met my social needs and allowed me to try new exercises with no pressure or obligation. I remember especially fondly that if it weren’t for the YMCA, I may not have showered at all when my husband traveled for work. My twins are cute, but I couldn’t take my eyes off them for a minute!

Naturally, when I learned that my husband’s job was moving us to a new state, one of the first things I searched for was if our new town had a YMCA. To my great relief, it did. I’m fairly sure the girls and I trekked over there to become members on our second day there.

But everything was wrong with the new Y. My kids were scared of the new childcare area because they didn’t know the staff yet. They didn’t offer my favorite exercise classes. The cardio room was separate from the weights room, and both felt cramped: the building was regularly crowded, and my preferred machines weren’t available; I had to sign up for a turn on the cardio equipment and could only do thirty minutes at a time.

The worst part was how unfriendly everyone was, from the staff to my fellow patrons. I didn’t know anyone, and no one talked to me. Aside from a quick greeting as I dropped off my kids in the childcare area, I wouldn’t speak to a single person. I distinctly remember feeling profoundly alone while surrounded by people. They just weren’t my people.

One day, while I moped around the YMCA, bemoaning how I didn’t have any friends or even get a friendly smile, I realized the fault was mine. I recognized that from the moment I put the car in park, I hung my head and only looked at the ground. It was no wonder no one ever smiled at me. I didn’t give a single person I passed the opportunity.

At that moment, something changed in me. I decided to not be the reason for my own misery. I decided to lift my head, look everyone I passed in the eye, and smile. The most amazing thing happened: people smiled back.

I felt less alone from that day forward, not because I immediately made friends (which, I’m sad to report, didn’t happen overnight) but because I was connecting with other human beings. God created us in His image and likeness, and He created us for relationships. We aren’t meant to go through this life alone.

I learned some valuable lessons from that experience, the most notable being that I am responsible for my behavior. I can’t begrudge the unfriendliness of others when I don’t make the effort myself; something as small and simple as a smile can make a huge difference.

When I walk around looking people in the eyes and smiling, my soul is transformed. Even if I’m struggling and my life isn’t as simple and easy as I’d like, when I smile, I allow the joy that Christ offers to penetrate into my heart. What’s more, my smile is returned more often than not with a smile from a stranger’s face, further filling my soul with happiness.

These days, I don’t have to think about it: I’m always smiling. I love looking at other people and greeting them warmly. Each person I pass is a fellow creation of God, and I am blessed to be in her or his company. My kids often comment on how friendly I am—I get a chance to remind them that every person we pass has dignity and worth, regardless of her or his outward appearance. In this small, simple way, I get to share Christ’s joy with others.

If you’re feeling down or isolated, the most powerful tool you have requires only a few muscles in your face. It’s guaranteed to make you feel better, and chances are, your joy will spill into the strangers you pass. All you have to do is smile.

©Maria Riley 2024

“Get Outta My Tribe!”

March 1, 2024/0 Comments/in Lent, Spiritual Life/by Ben Bongers

“Get Outta My Tribe!”

The first two readings for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, which we will hear next week, remind me of a joke I heard the other day. “I’m trying to convince my dad to get a new hearing aid. He just won’t listen.”

We love to be bad. We refuse to listen to anyone. It’s what we do. What’s more, today, the more someone points out how bad we’ve been, the more we “double down” and become even worse! But why? Why do we constantly make the choice to do the wrong thing?

It’s nothing new. The Old Testament reading from 2 Chronicles 36 starts with, “In those days… the people added infidelity to infidelity, practicing all the abominations of the nations and polluting the Lord’s temple…” Then St. Paul tells the Ephesians in chapter 2 that they, meaning humanity before Christ, “were dead in [their] transgressions.”

In a word, I blame tribalism. Tribalism is more than just being organized into a tribe. It’s a way of life and thought. You naturally hang with people who look like you, who act like you, who speak like you. You feel more comfortable with them, and there is a natural shorthand of thought. You know what your friends and neighbors are going to think, say, or do before they do it. It’s comfortable. It’s lazy.

The point is, the more we act blindly as a member of the tribe, the less we listen to that deep inner voice. The voice God put inside us. The more I turn off my conscience and listen to people inside my bubble, the deeper I dig my trench.

A Little Story

Many years ago, I was in Dresden, Germany, singing as the US invaded Afghanistan after 9/11. There was quite a bit of political tension in northern Germany, as it had the largest ex-pat population of Middle Easterners in Europe. They would work menial and manual labor jobs for pennies on the dollar. They were (and are) hard-working and caring people, very loyal to Germany, but they also still held a love and admiration for their homelands.

One warm afternoon, I was walking down to the river near the opera house and happened onto a family of four: mother, father, and their son and daughter of about 12 and 14, respectively. There was no question they were Americans. The man wore shorts and a tee shirt that read, “America! Love her or leave her!” The wife’s shirt was emblazoned with a picture of a rifle and the words “America First, Last, and Always.” The children’s shirts were just as pro-American as the parents.

Typically, these tee shirts would not cause a second look in Chicago, Kansas City, or Houston. But this is Dresden, Germany, with a very high Middle Eastern population. They stuck out. As I continued to the river, I noticed the start of a large anti-American protest forming. There were at least 500 worked-up people carrying placards and chanting something that ended with the word “America!” and did not sound very friendly. After seeing the protest form, I knew that the American family I’d just passed was about to stroll right into the middle of it. I quickly went back to them.

When I reached the family, I told them of the protest and suggested they continue on a different path. That’s when the unexpected happened. Tribalism at its finest. The father said, “What kind of an American are you? We don’t run and hide. We live in the best country in the world, and we’re damned proud of it.” I tried to reason with them, but it was no use.

Not wanting to be in the middle of a protest, I went and had a cup of coffee in an outdoor café and watched the protest go by. It was loud and raucous. I waited to see if the American family would be foolish enough to wade into the middle of it. Luckily, they were nowhere to be seen.

The next day, I ran into them again, bags in hand and headed for the train station, and as full of as much bravado as the day before. This time it was the mother who said, “If these people don’t see that America is the greatest country in the world, then we don’t want to be here. We’re leaving!” And with that, they hopped on the train to the airport.

Tribalism closes ears. It blinds people’s sight to what God’s will is for them. It makes gods of countries and “influencers.” Tribalism has a bad habit of turning people’s gaze inward, to themselves and their own group, instead of toward people outside and in need. “The Others” almost automatically become “the enemy.” “If they’re not one of us, they must be wrong, bad, evil.”

So, how do we stop tribalism from destroying us? The princes of Judah in 2 Chronicles didn’t manage. They were soon overrun and sent into exile. We do it by listening to that inner voice more than the talking heads and biased chatter. By taking the famous conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, “For God so loved the worlds that He sent His only Son…” from John 3 to heart. By believing that we are all in this together. That we all need to believe God sent His Son to act as not just a go-between but as someone who reunited us with God’s original will for us. Then, we need to act accordingly. We need to stop beating the drum of our own tribe and start helping those who no one claims. Or better yet, become a people without tribal borders.

Image: Pixabay

There Are No Ordinary People

February 23, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Writing and Publishing, Love, Spiritual Life/by Rick Clements

There’s an old saying: Ubi amor, ibi oculus—where love is, there is the eye. Love helps us see. Love helps us see the good in others, especially when that goodness is not so easy to see at first. Love helps us find, and approve of, the goodness in other people. Seeing that goodness is, in part, a matter of will—we have to want to find the goodness in other people. But seeing goodness in others is also a matter of developing a particular mindset, a particular attitude, toward other people.

What is our attitude toward other people? Are people basically good, or basically bad? Do all people have intrinsic value and dignity, or are they only valuable if they are in some way useful to us—to the extent that they serve our purposes or needs, approve of us, agree with us on important issues, etc.? Being able to find, and to continue to see, the good in other people may require that we begin to think about people (all people) differently than we have in the past. It may require that we adopt a new attitude toward people. What kind of attitude? God’s attitude. And what is God’s attitude toward people? That people are very good (Genesis 1:31). God’s proclamation that the first human beings were very good was, in part, God’s way of saying “How good that you exist!” And God says that about each of us. Every one of us. Or else we wouldn’t exist. It is God’s love which created us, and it is God’s love which sustains us in existence. All of us—even that person we find to be so cantankerous, so petty, so annoying, etc. If God can exclaim about every person he created, “How good that you exist!”, we should be able to find a way to do that, too.

God proclaims human beings to be very good because he made us imago Dei, in his image and likeness (Genesis 1:26). God made us like himself in our ability to think and reason, but he also made us like himself in our ability to love. Everything that God created is good because it shares in God’s being, the being of the Infinite Good. But human beings are very good because we share in God’s capacity to love. Every single human being has intrinsic value and dignity because God loves them. Every single human being has intrinsic value and dignity because they were made imago Dei. Every single human being has intrinsic value and dignity because they were created to be a child of God. Every single human being has intrinsic value and dignity because Jesus died and rose for them so that they could share in, and contribute to, the eternal circulation of love that constitutes the divine life. Keeping these truths in mind will make it much more possible for us to find and approve of the good in other people.

Admittedly, some people, although made imago Dei in their capacity to love, don’t seem to be exercising that capacity very much. But maybe part of our mission in this life is to help draw the capacity for love out of people who are like that, to draw the capacity for love out of that difficult person whom no one else seems to like very much, by first loving them. Loving them starts with finding some good in them, and finding some good in them starts with seeing them as being children of God. All of them. As C. S. Lewis put it, “There are no ordinary people.” We need to adopt that attitude toward every person who crosses our path in life.

* This article is based on an excerpt from Rick’s latest book, The Book of Love: Brief Meditations.

Photo by RODRIGO GONZALEZ on Unsplash

Finding Treasures in Pockets of Time

January 12, 2024/0 Comments/in Devotionals, Faith, Family Life, Inspirational, Love, Spiritual Life/by Maria Riley

Finding Treasures in Pockets of Time

When I run into other moms at church, in the neighborhood, or at the grocery store, I find that I am having the same conversation over and over. I say, “Hi! How are you?” and she replies, “Busy!” and then delves into her litany of appointments and tasks that fill her schedule, and I reply in kind by agreeing and sharing my own over-scheduled obligations. We end our rushed conversation and run off to get something else done.

Sometimes there are things in our lives that we need to purge. It may not always be easy to remove it, but often, we are aware of the things that consume our time and give us nothing in return. I find, in my life, those things are typically self-centered, and when I choose to live the way Christ wants me to, I am given the strength to remove those things that take up too much of my life.

As mothers, though, so much of our life is spent in service to others. We are chefs, nurses, house cleaners, and chauffeurs, not to mention boo-boo kissers, story time tellers, snuggle buddies, and behavior correctors. Then our mother-in-law comes to visit, and we must be the perfect hostesses. The list goes on indefinitely, but the hours in the day do not.

How do we find time for Christ when we are pulled in so many different directions? It is especially difficult when these many different directions are for good things for our families. From time to time, I have found myself wishing for the seemingly simple life of a nun, especially when I am craving time and intimacy with our Lord but finding the demands of my vocation of motherhood to be standing in my way. But then I remember the beautiful gift of my calling, and I have worked to grow in my relationship with Christ within the demands of my schedule.

I rarely have large blocks of time, but I am regularly gifted with what I call “pockets of time” throughout the day. I have five minutes here or there, often while I am waiting for something, that I used to spend scrolling on my phone or otherwise distracting myself. Now, I try to be purposeful with these pockets of time and turn to God in prayer, even if I don’t have time to read the daily readings or journal in my Bible study workbook.

I used to get stuck in my growth toward Jesus because if I didn’t have 20–30 minutes to sit down, read, pray, and reflect, I wouldn’t do anything at all. Then, by the end of the day, I would feel like a failure because my spiritual time was just something else that I didn’t get done today (along with a shower or getting that laundry from a week ago folded). Somewhere along the way, I realized that God never gave me a set of expectations for how and when I have to pray. That came from my own unrealistic expectations, compounded by comparing myself to other women who seem to have it all together in their faith journeys.

Now, instead of dedicating 20–30 minutes to God in the morning, I turn to Him for a minute or two 20—30 times per day. Before I get out of bed in the morning, I say hello to the Lord, offer my day to Him, and ask Him to show me His will. When I begin a household chore, I offer it for someone in need. I pray for a moment before I start a workout, thanking God for the gift of my body, the temple which houses my soul and the Holy Spirit. I have learned that just a few moments is all it takes to recenter my day and draw closer to Christ.

The best part about approaching my prayer life in this way is how my spiritual life has deepened and grown. Previously, once I had completed my morning prayer time and reflection, I would check the “Time for God” box and then go on with my day. Now, by regularly recentering myself and refocusing on God many times throughout the day, I am able to let Him work in me and through me all day long. It is such a gift that God has helped transform my life so that my entire day has become a prayer.

Magnificat of a Prodigal

January 10, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Conversion Stories, Eucharist, Faith, Spiritual Life/by Mary McWilliams

Magnificat of a Prodigal

“I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” the priest said, making the sign of the Cross on the baby, a newborn not expected to live, and marking her forever as Christ’s own.

My urgent baptism the day I was born was probably the greatest gift my parents ever gave me. It lit a flame within me that oftentimes seemed to flicker dimly yet refused to be extinguished. As I wandered aimlessly and recklessly through the next decades, the grace I received at my baptistm acted as a homing device to bring me back to the true home and true faith that stirred inside of me.

I am a prodigal daughter, one who strayed long and far. One who thought she could grab her inheritance early and do better with it out in the world than within her Father’s house. Like the older son of the parable, I ended up metaphorically broken, dirty, and perishing from hunger.

We were a family that was Catholic, but not a Catholic family; an obligation passed down through my mother’s side. We knew about Catholic things―prayers, holy days, the pope―but as a family, we did not practice the Catholic faith. Culturally, the 1970s was an age of rebellion―not obedience―to tradition, ritual, and authority. Catholicism was an easy scapegoat. I was drawn to the mysticism, the precision of the rituals, and the stories told in the stained glass, but I didn’t understand any of it. I was curious about the people honored with statues but didn’t know them either, save Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. The old churches with their intricate architecture beckoned and the modern ones reflected messages around me that this faith was nothing to love. So many seemed to hate it, and I followed along.

While still going through the required CCD and Sunday motions, I became ABC: Anything But Catholic. How about Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism? Then other eastern philosophies and exploration into yoga. I read enough to pick and choose what worked for me. Occult, New Age, and pursuit of worldly goals led to darker passageways and heavier sins, but there was always some flash, some small ray kindling in me that kept me from journeying as deep into the darkness that had captured many of my friends.

He has come to the help of his servant … he has remembered his promise of mercy.

By my 30s, wrong paths and hard lessons had beaten me down. I had pushed God away, doubtful I had a way back, but I started attending an Episcopal church. It was Catholic enough to be familiar but without … well, whatever it was I claimed offended me in my youth. I pondered the creed in the Book of Common Prayer and tried to recall the Creed I had memorized as a child. Was it exactly the same? The Creed was something I always believed. I didn’t know why. I could say it without feeling like a hypocrite. I knew that if I were serious about reuniting with God, I had to go back to my beginning. With a “try me” attitude, I began listening to Catholic radio and watching Catholic television constantly. What I thought were tough questions about the faith were satisfied quickly and easily.

Tentatively, I considered going to Mass, but refused to set my alarm, daring God. If he wanted me back to the Catholic Church, he’d wake me up. He did. I played that game the next week. Once again, he won. This continued for weeks until I wanted to go to church, and just to make sure I wouldn’t miss Mass, I set my alarm.

He has lifted up the lowly … He has mercy on those who fear him …

At Mass, I felt like I had crashed a gala event. Still, each week I went. I sat in the back feeling invisible, until Communion when I felt conspicuous. Alone in the pew, I knew it was not my time. It took three years of going to Confession, remembering a lifetime of sins, and speaking them out loud before I felt like I could honestly receive the Eucharist.

He has scattered the proud in their conceit …

On Easter, the day we celebrate his Resurrection, came a resurrection for me. After many years, torturous examens, and woeful pleas for forgiveness, I stepped up to receive the Body of Christ. “Amen,” I whispered, closing my eyes to dam up the tears. Immediately, I was surrounded by a beautiful aroma that was like home-baked bread with an undefinable sweetness. Not sweet like candy, fruit, or flowers, just a sweetness all its own. The experience simulated walking into a cozy home on a windy, frigid day, with a fire in the fireplace, and a scrumptious dinner in the oven. It had the joy of being welcomed by happy dogs and held by arms that had been waiting just for me. It had the intimacy of snuggling under a blanket with the person you love the most, who knows you better than anyone, your faces millimeters apart, trading secrets and dreams, giggling over private jokes. This sensation would remain with me through the end of Mass, and it continued through the summer.

He has filled the hungry with good things …

More than a decade later, I might experience a brief wafting of this aroma when I receive the Eucharist. I miss the intensity of the first months, but I think he knows I’m convinced he is with me. He promised, “Behold, I make all things new.” He took me, a soul that didn’t expect to survive, and bore me anew.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord.
My spirit rejoices in God my Savior.

The “Call”: We All Receive Them, But When Will You Answer?

January 5, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Writing and Publishing, Inspirational, Spiritual Life, Volunteering/by Ben Bongers

The “Call”: We All Receive Them, But When Will You Answer?

Nine years ago, I got a text from a friend I hadn’t seen in a few years: “I don’t know where to turn or what to do. I’m sick and getting evicted from my apartment as of the 31st. Help me!”.

I was happily living my life. I was a successful singer and sommelier in the San Francisco Bay Area. But, with that one text, my life changed.

Are You Ready When the “Call” Comes?

My friend—we’ll call him Tom—flew with his life partner to say goodbye to his dying mother. While there, Tom’s partner fell gravely ill, passing away in the same hospital a few rooms away from Tom’s mother. In the breath of a few days, Tom lost his mother, partner, and reason to keep going.

Tom was a PhD and very well respected in his community and academia. Over the following couple of years, Tom filled his life with drugs, alcohol, and activities to numb his emotions and memories. When his life was turned upside-down, he reached out to people, but many either didn’t have time, want to change their plans, or put up with his antics caused by the pain.

Trying to Say “No” to the “Call”

I felt the same way when I received Tom’s text. I told myself, “I don’t have time for this! It’s the day after Christmas and my anniversary.” In full disclosure, Tom had been quite dismissive and mean in earlier conversations with me. So, I wrote back saying I couldn’t see him. He replied, “I have nowhere else to turn. This may be it for me. No one cares anymore.” Stunned by his hollow reply, I said I’d come by, but only for a few minutes.

When I arrived, I found Tom visibly shaken, sick, and weighing only half of what he had the last time I’d seen him. He had a few things packed in old, smelly grocery store boxes that he’d scrounged up, and he sat in one place—silent, rocking forward and back, eyes fixed on a spot a few feet in front of him. After making something warm to drink, he came out of the trance long enough to fill me in on what brought him to this point. He’d burned through all his money and lost his job and every “friend” he had. As of New Year’s Day, he would be on the street. He later told me he contacted me either for help or to say a final goodbye.

I stayed, helped him pack boxes, and promised to return the following day, but just for a few hours. That night, I spoke with my wife and told her all I’d seen and heard. The decision was made. We had to help. The next day, we moved his things into a storage locker and helped find a facility to take him in, allowing him to dry out and receive mental help. New Year’s Day became the first day of the rest of Tom’s life.

Answering the “Call”

This was the day after Christmas nine years ago. This week, I received a note via email from Tom. He’s starting a new job he never thought he would have. He is fully employed, off the street, getting benefits—and most importantly—whole again.

Since saying “Yes” to that simple text—that simple “call”—my life has changed in ways I can’t yet express. Soon after, I received a “call” (quite literally) from a nun at my parish to help her establish an overnight homeless shelter for when there was inclement weather in the Bay Area. The men would bed down on our parish hall floor, and I would be there to facilitate and make sure everyone felt safe. I became a Knight in the Order of Malta, sworn to aid the poor and the sick, and I’m on the trail to the Permanent Diaconate. All of this is due to answering a simple “call.”

Did answering that single “call” change my life? Yes! Was it an easy transition? No! My life became topsy-turvy! What was important—no longer held my interest. What I held in high regard—was now pedestrian. And things that I didn’t have time for—became my focus.

We read in 1 Samuel that Samuel was “called” in the night. He didn’t know who was calling him or why, but when Eli told him to answer, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening,” Samuel answered the “call.” And when two of John the Baptizer’s disciples heard him say, “Behold, the Lamb of God…” they listened to the “call” and followed Jesus to where he was staying, causing Andrew (one of the two) to tell his brother, Peter, “We have found the Messiah.” All of this because they heard and listened to a “call.”

I say all these very personal things not to pat myself on the back or state how good I am. No. Just the opposite! I’m opening up to show that anyone, every sinner, like me, is being “called” regularly—every year, month, week, day—we each and every one is being called.

So:

What “calls” are you hearing today?
What things are causing you to say, “I don’t have time for this…” like I did?
What “call” can you finally say “yes” to in your upcoming year?