Every now and then, the reality of my Catholic infancy is driven home in a moment of ignorance as was the case last week when I almost missed a very important day on the liturgical calendar. On June 16th Catholics everywhere celebrated the Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus. This was the Friday following the Corpus Christi octave and, much like Divine Mercy Sunday, this Catholic feast calls to mind God’s unconditional love for us. Out of this love He sent His only Son to live among us and with a human heart, thereby enabling our salvation brought forth through Christ’s death and resurrection.
“We love because He first loved us.” (John 4:19) Although the feast has come and gone, the entire month of June is dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the perfect time to begin or renew this particular devotion to our Lord.
I’ve been known to gush about my mom in writing on a number of occasions. She’s every bit the sort of aggressively hospitable woman I strive to be. She’s passionate, spontaneous and extremely pushy when it comes to her loved ones living their best lives. However, today’s post is about Dad, the generally unsung hero in our lives; a man of logic and straight lines and hard work.
Throughout my childhood the need for two loving parents, a mother and a father, was always abundantly clear to me. They serve very different purposes for their children. Dad was the objective opinion in our household and still is to this day. He’s the calm voice of reason in times of crisis, whether that crisis be my broken down Audi halfway between my summer internship and school or a big breakup with my long-time college boyfriend. He’s my go-to when work gets tough or the AC goes out in my house and was the help hotline the first time I did my taxes.
Even before we came to the Catholic faith, my dad embodied the ideals of St. Joseph, the patron saint of families, fathers, engineers and workers to name a few. Over the years, my dad’s constant mission was to provide and care for our family. It was far from easy at times and there were many long nights at the office but he always made sure to be home for dinner. Thanks to his dedication, my sister and I enjoyed a carefree childhood of bedtime stories and goodnight kisses, memories which we both still cherish to this day.
As we grew up and began to encounter trials of our own, we were always able to lean on his example. It’s why anything less than our best never quite cut it in our house. I also know that many of the blessings that my sister and I enjoy are largely due to the constant prayers which my parents send up on our behalf. Thanks Dad, for all of the prayers and objective opinions over the years. We love you!
For a large portion of my life I believed, as many people do, that my actions mattered more than my thoughts. I was raised to be a good law abiding citizen, to respect my elders, to be kind and courteous and compassionate to everyone, whether I liked them or not. However, I also felt free to think whatever I wanted. By this logic I could judge random folks on the street for everything from their poor taste in shoes to their questionable smoking habits so long as I remained polite and civil in my words and actions. I could call my sister all manner of unfortunate names when she annoyed me as long as it was only in my mind. I could engage in a profane and road ragey tirade every time someone cut me off in traffic as long as this tirade could never be perceived by fellow drivers.
Thought matters. God knows our hearts and our minds. It’s why we graciously thank our friends and family for all of those birthday presents that we didn’t even ask for. It really is the thought that counts and even if we didn’t get exactly what we wanted we know that those gifts all came from places of love.
Our thoughts precede our words and actions which is why it’s generally far easier to avoid negative temptations altogether than to try to resist them. This is exactly what we are called to do as Catholics. At the conclusion of every Catholic confession the priest provides us with a penance to perform in reparation for our sins and asks us to recite an act of contrition in which we “firmly resolve with the help of God’s grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin.” Sinful thoughts can lead us to all manner of situations in which we turn away from God; the sin of scandal, jealousy, or even the worship of false gods through addiction. In today’s fast paced world with a wealth of entertainment and information at our fingertips it’s easier than ever to fall into an endless screen addiction.
We are all called to be Christ for the world even in those moments when no one is watching. To live truly Catholic lives we must always work to keep our thoughts, words and actions clean and to approach every situation through the lens of genuine love and service for our neighbors.
Catholic mothers are often said to have the biggest hearts and are known for the seemingly endless hospitality and love which pours forth from them. My mom is no exception although her love isn’t contained in just one but is spread throughout dozens of hearts. She’s never been the type to wear them on her sleeve but instead places each one with care in her Colorado home, bright little reminders of her love hiding in plain sight. I tried to number them once but lost count and more have appeared since then.
Some of her hearts are made of stone, plucked from a mountain top or lakeside during a family adventure. These now litter her bookshelves, all at home amid epic tales of Middle Earth and magic wands. Some of her hearts are made of colored glass and wire. She hangs these in her windows to catch the morning sun. Her walls are ornamented with hand carved wooden depictions of The Sacred Heart, flaming and wreathed in thorns, or else crowned and fluttering tiny angel wings. Still more of her hearts are scattered over dark wood tables, under coffee mugs or woven into the seasonal cushions which she uses to decorate her sofa and favorite armchair.
When visiting her house one is quite literally surrounded by her love and many people have been on the receiving end of it. Everywhere you look, her love smiles at you from every corner. But of course it doesn’t evaporate when one leaves her house. That’s just where she stores most of her hearts for safe keeping but she sends her love into the world with every visitor who comes and goes, generally after a delicious meal and a nightcap. When I moved away to Indiana she gave me a couple of her hearts for my bookshelf, starter hearts for my own collection. I’ve come to realize one can never have too many. Happy Mother’s Day Mom. Thanks for all the hearts.
My mom turned me onto veiling shortly after my baptism. It is a very traditional catholic practice for women to cover their heads at mass although it was somewhat abandoned after Vatican II. It is now much less common in the United States than in many European nations but veils can still occasionally be found in our own churches.
Because it is such a rare practice at my home parish I worried that I might unintentionally be making a spectacle of myself by adopting this particular habit. However, if approached through the proper frame of mind, there is nothing scandalous about veiling just as there is nothing wrong with attending latin mass. I quickly grew accustomed to veiling in front of the blessed sacrament and now I never go to church without my veil.
There are many reasons to veil but chief among them is to show reverence to Christ. It is an outward, visible sign of a woman’s faith similarly to how men remove their hats when they enter the sanctuary. It is a sign of respect and always helps me focus on the sacrifice of the mass. My veil is not like other garments, worn for its comfort or aesthetic appeal. It is reserved only for prayer and worship before the blessed sacrament and serves as a reminder to me of what is truly sacred.
I’ve also heard a few fellow millennial women occasionally bemoan the idea that women should be made to cover up while men are under no such obligation. To these women, my mom also had an answer. She once aptly observed that “you veil what is sacred.” In the Catholic faith we regard Mary, the mother of Christ, in the highest honor. She was free from original sin and unfailing in her trust and faith in God. She was assumed into Heaven and is Queen of the Universe. Veiling is a beautiful tradition in which we can imitate the most holy mother of God and acknowledge our catholic reverence for Mary and for motherhood and women in general. This is not an oppressive practice meant to hide women against their will. In fact, it does the opposite. It highlights the Mary-like grace, beauty and dignity of all women and is a freely embraced tradition of the faith.
Veiling is certainly not a requirement but I’m always struck by the reverent beauty whenever we attend a latin mass and see the church filled with veiling women and men in suits. It may take some getting used to but I highly recommend it for any women looking for ways to grow closer to God.
There are a multitude of places to purchase chapel veils at a wide range of prices. My personal favorites are EvintageVeils and Veil by Tradition.
I don’t normally post on Thursdays but this is Holy Thursday and I was blessed with a special experience this year regarding this day on the liturgical calendar which caused me to dig deeper into the Catholic faith. I was asked to participate in the Washing of Feet. Many people are aware of this beautiful tradition in the Catholic Church in which the priest washes the feet of twelve parishioners in memory of the Last Supper as Christ washed the feet of the twelve disciples. It is an incredibly humbling display of service and discipleship for both the priest and those having their feet washed and I was honored to be asked.
However, even as I agreed to participate, I felt a nagging hesitation in the back of my mind as I struggled to recall something my mom had once told me about the foot washing and how it was traditionally reserved for men. Back at home I called her to learn more about this Catholic tradition in which I was soon to take part. She was more than happy to speak on the subject and sent me a few resources to dig further into the practice, having done quite a bit of research herself.
I discovered that this tradition is indeed about service and discipleship, but a particular kind of service, that of the priest and the institution of Holy Orders. Without Holy Orders, we would not have priests. We need priests to confer the sacraments, especially Reconciliation and the Eucharist. Indeed, without holy men to enter into the priesthood, we would not have a church. Instituting the priesthood on Holy Thursday, I learned, began the lineage of apostolic succession, from those men gathered at the Last Supper right down to the priests in our very own parish! What a gift!
This is a kind of service which I as a woman will never be able to perform. I don’t feel at all disrespected or excluded to acknowledge this. On the contrary, I love that the Catholic Church celebrates the complementary nature of men and women for it is through our differences that we best serve God. For myself, I can think of no better way to profess my love for Christ than through service in holy marriage and it brings me no end of relief that I have been called to such a marriage. My Catholic wifely duties don’t make me any less worthy to receive God’s saving grace than those holy men who enter into the priesthood. I simply am called to a different kind of service.
Although the foot washing has been made available to men and women by our Holy Father, Pope Francis, I realized that I am not the ideal candidate for this Holy Thursday tradition and ultimately declined the invitation although I will be blessed to be present to see my husband participate. I was truly honored to be asked to take part in the foot washing as it gave me an opportunity to dive deeper into the faith and the history behind this tradition in our beautiful Catholic Church. However, knowing what I know now, I am also equally happy in my decision to be an observer rather than a participant.
Thank you to all the holy men who have chosen the priesthood for all that you do.
This is the question facing modern women. I know many people on both sides who say it’s hardly a question at all and that the answer is obvious. I know how I’d answer it. Our society likes to tell women that their greatest worth will come from high powered careers, that they can have families if they want to but that they should have careers. Frankly, I have to agree with Jordan Peterson’s perspective on this one. Only a very select few ever actually achieve careers. The rest of us go to jobs everyday. Some jobs are undoubtedly more enjoyable than others but they’re all generally performed for the same purpose of paying the bills and not work that someone would do for free.
There are the dreamers of the world, those high flying individuals who become masters and leaders in their fields and of course there are women among them. However, to treat those women as the rule rather than the exception is to dismiss the ultimate feminine superpower, the ability to give birth. We alone have the capacity and natural inclination for motherhood. Some people say that a woman’s worth should be measured by more than her ability to push out babies and they’re absolutely right. Being an effective mother is about raising those babies to be good, virtuous people.
Success and ambition are incredibly enticing. I myself can attest to that. It feels good to be financially independent, to stand on your own two feet, to not worry about how to pay your bills and to be able to afford the things you enjoy. The deal is only sweetened as a career trajectory does begin to take shape. A technical degree in a STEM field paired with a job in a fairly stable industry that’s currently hemorrhaging retirees has upward mobility written all over it. It’s not difficult to imagine a future.
But all the money and success in the world doesn’t hold a torch to how badly I want to be a good wife and mother. There are certainly women out there who learn to split the difference and excel in motherhood and their careers but even in this there are sacrifices. Even the most well organized and motivated people have their limits. There’s only so much of you to go around. Choosing how to spend it is a necessary evil of our empowered and fast-paced world.
Financial independence can be a huge step toward maturity and adulthood as it was for me. It was a key motivator but it was never the goal, nor do I think it should be. I don’t think anyone should ever become so proud of their workplace accomplishments that they forget who and what they’re working for. There’s nothing wrong with being an empowered lady boss. Whatever you do should be done with excellence but people are often quick to forget that concept extends to the home as well.
Today I find myself recalling a homily from one of our priest friends on Ash Wednesday. He touched on the three main tenets of Lent; prayer, fasting and almsgiving but he went further to instruct on how these should orient our lives beyond Lent. After all, God created us for labor, love and leisure. I think that first one gets forgotten sometimes or at least pushed a little lower on the priority list. God clearly does not want us to neglect ourselves but love and leisure are often byproducts of labor.
This was the point that our friend was making when he spoke to the assembly. We are happiest and most fulfilled when we are working for the service of others. Money and success can better enable us to help our neighbors but they themselves cannot be the goal. It’s easy to fall into the habit of defining new challenges in life by what we can get out of them. I’m certainly guilty of this. But this thinking is precisely backwards.
We should not be the center of our own lives. The Sun around which our worlds must revolve is the Son of God. We can only ensure this proper orientation toward Christ through genuine service. Only when we give ourselves to other people can we experience the bliss of doing God’s work.
Although not originally native to Ireland, Saint Patrick’s work there spanned nearly all his life. He was born in Roman Britain but was captured by Irish pirates when he was young and was sent to Ireland to work as a slave. He never lost his faith and years later he escaped and returned to Britain. Despite his former captivity, Saint Patrick felt called back to Ireland to bring the Gospel to the pagan country. Thus he set out to become a priest and later a bishop before traveling to Ireland a second time. Saint Patrick is still celebrated and Ireland, nicknamed the Isle of Saints and Scholars, was home to many more saints throughout history thanks to his work.
I came home grumpy the other day and despite knowing that most of my frustration was largely out of my control, I immediately began complaining to my husband when I walked in the door. It had been a less than stellar day in the office. The friends and family that I’d tried calling on the drive home had all been busy and although I had no major update to give them, I missed them very much. I’ve also been consumed lately with thoughts of the future and trying to figure out how my husband and I might go about starting a family amid two full time careers.
I know that God will provide for us so long as we continue to turn to Him in our struggles. I’m also well aware that these are small change compared to the trials of others. I understand that prayer is often the best medicine and we need only bear our crosses and give them up to God. However, as I sat next to my husband while we prayed our daily rosary I was struck by how un-catholic my behavior had been that day. I had not done any of the prayerful things I just mentioned. This was also in dramatic contrast with my husband’s actions as he spent the entire evening going out of his way to cheer me up.
Being catholic is not always easy. It’s far easier to whine and gripe about every little thing that’s going wrong. In the moment, God can slip our minds entirely as was my case. It didn’t even occur to me that day to relinquish my frustrations to Him. But while we keep faith in God, we are never alone and it’s times like these that I feel unbelievably blessed that He sent my husband to me to be an example and a friend on the bad days. As members of God’s universal church we have the privilege of seeing Christ everyday if we keep our eyes open, whether it be in the kindness of a random stranger on the street, in the devout worship of our fellow parishioners during Sunday mass, or in the love and care we receive from spouses, family and friends.
Blessed in the Midwest 