Category: Parish News & Events

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I recently got the chance to meet an incredible Healing Ministry that is doing the Lord’s work in my diocese. If you are unfamiliar with prayer teams like this, the focus is on the Holy Spirit, and they simply pray with you and for your intentions, spiritual or physical. Having gone to the Franciscan University of Steubenville, I am pretty comfortable with charismatic prayer and was truly blessed by my experience with this prayer team. Lately, I’ve become more interested in the topic of God’s healing.

This week I hosted a FORMED series at my parish on the Eucharist, Presence: The Mystery of the Eucharist. After watching the first episode, I invited everyone to share their thoughts and reflections. A man named RV prophetically shared on the reality of God’s power. The fact that God transcends time and science at every consecration of the Eucharist is similar to an explosion that just happens throughout the world at different times every single day. We went on from these words to thinking about God’s bigness and smallness. These questions were meant to be wrestled with and that’s we did.

In today’s Responsorial Psalm, I was reminded of this great might. “Making known to men your might and the glorious splendor of your Kingdom. Your Kingdom is a Kingdom for all ages,
and your dominion endures through all generations. Your friends make known, O Lord, the glorious splendor of your Kingdom.” In the Gospel today we hear the reality that we will be sent out like lambs among wolves. I’m sure each of us can understand that analogy in our world today. But what struck me is that Jesus didn’t tell us to grab some armor for protection, but calls us to bring peace. “Into whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this household.’” There is no need for armor because God is with us in all things and because of that there should always be a sense of peace coming from faithful Christians. His last mission he gives to the disciples is to “cure the sick in it and say to them, ‘The Kingdom of God is at hand for you.’” He gave the power to His disciples to physically heal the sick and proclaim the truth that the Kingdom of God is at hand. In all seriousness, do we believe that God can heal us today? Do we believe that the Kingdom of God is at hand right now in this very moment? I do and I hope you do too. Today, may we wrestle with the reality that God can do what you think is impossible. Whether He does it or not, He can. May you experience the healing that you desire, if it be His will. Amen.

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Briana is the Pastoral Minister at St. Mark Church in Cleveland, OH. She is also a district manager at Arbonne. She received her Bachelor of Arts in Theology and Catechetics from the Franciscan University of Steubenville, OH and is excited to use these skills to serve the Church. “My soul has been refined and I can raise my head like a flower after a storm.” -St. Therese

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Today in the first reading, we have the classic text that is used to justify a faith alone mentality or the idea that merely having an intellectual belief that does not involve an act of the will, is enough to be saved. This idea circulates amongst many religions and has quite a level of misunderstanding about Catholic Teaching.

I have heard people say that Catholics have to earn their way into heaven, which couldn’t be further from the truth. The Catechism states that “The grace of the Holy Spirit has the power to justify us, that is, to cleanse us from our sins and to communicate to us ‘the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ’ and through Baptism.” (CCC 1987)

So we believe as Catholics that we are justified by the power of God, not anything that we do. We are not able to earn our way into heaven; it is a free and beautiful gift granted to us by God himself. So why all the confusion? When Catholics say we need both faith and works, what we mean is that we are justified by faith, but we have to assent to it in our will, which leads to action. Our faith cannot just be intellectual ideas, but it must be realized and lived.

This is truly a beautiful understanding of faith. You wouldn’t tell your wife you love her and then not act on it. The reality of love would be so strong in your will that it inspires you to do something. This takes love from a fluffy sentimentality or abstract concept into a tangible action of the will. Being baptized is an action; praying for forgiveness is an action, loving God is an action.

We do not believe that loving God will earn us our salvation, but we do believe, in most instances, that we need a relationship with him in order to spend eternity with him. That is biblical. I think about these truths often in relation to theology. I love studying and reading about theology, but it is easy to keep theology on a level of the abstract. Theology must always pierce into the practicals of life. It must go from thinking about God to loving and experiencing him. Otherwise, it loses its depth and beauty.

St. Thomas Aquinas understood this well after seeing the vision of God and then promptly asking his brothers to burn all of his writings because they are but straw in relation to what he just experienced. Today’s first reading allows us to experience in a small way that the vision that Aquinas had. I couldn’t help but read it and be overcome by joy that we are justified by faith in Christ Jesus. No matter how many times we fall, God will forgive. But we still have to do our part and accept and cooperate with that grace.

If you struggle with this at all, be encouraged. I know I have struggled with the fact that God could still love me after everything I have done. We can think our sin is too strong to be given justification. If this is you, I want to leave you with one of my favorite quotes from St. Claude de la Colombiere, who said, “I glorify you God in making known how good you are towards sinners. That your mercy prevails over all malice, that nothing can destroy it. That no matter how many times we fall or how shamefully or how criminally, a sinner need not be driven to despair of your pardon. It is in vain that your enemy and mine sets new traps for me every day. He will make me lose everything else before the hope that I have in your mercy.” From all of us here at Diocesan, God Bless!

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Tommy Shultz is a Solutions Evangelist for Diocesan. In that role, he is committed to coaching parishes and dioceses on authentic and effective Catholic communication. Tommy has a heart and a flair for inspiring people to live their faith every day. He has worked in various youth ministry, adult ministry, and diocesan roles. He has been a featured speaker at retreats and events across the country. His mission and drive have been especially inspired by St. John Paul II’s teachings. Tommy is blessed to be able to learn from the numerous parishes he visits and pass that experience on in his presentations. Contact him at tshultz@diocesan.com.

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Not long ago, I was out for coffee with an acquaintance when an extremely overweight person was seated next to us—with some difficulty, because there wasn’t quite enough room between the table and the bench to fit his girth. My companion sighed ostentatiously and made a bit of a show of moving over and giving the man more room, and my heart went out to him. He was so apologetic. He looked so miserable. And when, afterward, I asked my acquaintance why she’d responded as she did, she seemed surprised. “It’s his fault for being fat,” she said. “If he’d just buckle down and lose the weight, he wouldn’t be such a freak.”

“But you don’t know,” I said. “How can you blame him when you don’t know his story?”

I couldn’t wait to get away from her, to tell the truth, and as I was walking away there was a flurry of words that went through my mind. Sanctimonious, I thought. Judgmental. I resolved to see as little of her in future as possible.

It didn’t occur to me until much later that I was guilty of the very things I’d accused her of. Because, while no, we didn’t know his story, neither did I know hers. And it also occurred to me that it’s precisely when we’re accusing others of being judgmental that we’re possibly the most guilty of it.

Saint Paul knew us well. You have no excuse, he reminds us. You have no excuse for judging others.

The truth is, God’s the only one who knows what’s behind other people’s (or even, sometimes, our own) actions. And the irony is that being judgmental isn’t even a behavior that serves us. We judge others because we need to feel better about ourselves.  It may make us feel superior or secure in the short term, but the long-term stress of never feeling good enough can lead to a host of health issues. And that’s without bringing Saint Paul into it!

I can’t say how many times I’ve heard the advice of not judging others until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes—or, to be less picturesque, until you know their story, know what drives their behavior. How do you put yourself in someone else’s shoes? I’m not sure I’m always able to do it, but one thing I’ve found helpful is this: imagine that person’s reaction if you were to share your criticisms aloud. Consider how that person might feel, how hurt they’d be, if they heard you making judgments about them… and consider, also, what story they might offer to explain their situation.

You can even try making it a puzzle to solve. When you feel yourself looking down on someone else’s decisions or behavior, on how they dress or speak, what they weigh, try imagining why. Maybe the guy who cut you off is rushing to pick up his kids because his boss wouldn’t let him leave on time, not because (as you might be judging) he’s a jerk. Perhaps that toddler is screaming because of a bad night’s sleep, not because of bad parenting. Your story probably won’t coincide with theirs, but it will make you consider what their lives are like, and… well, honestly, the word that comes to mind is mercy. Mercy is the opposite of judgment. Mercy is offering a clean slate.

And it’s really clear that the times we live in demand mercy. As a culture, we’re harsh and critical of others. All you need to do is read the news to see the growing tendency to analyze and criticize. We attack others through opinions, jokes, Facebook banter, and snarky gossip. We call names, label others, race to characterize (and make sure others know our thoughts!). It’s a kind of public punishment for being different that we get to enforce. We launch toxic, crippling words as a way of inflicting harm. Mercy isn’t a word in our daily vocabulary.

What Saint Paul is reminding us is that God uses both our being judgmental and our mercy (depending on which is more manifest) as the measuring rod of how he treats us. He will act with great mercy and forgiveness. But he will also show his justice and judgment when that’s the path we take with others. “You have,” Paul writes to the Christians in Rome, “no excuse.”

The more you understand, the less likely you are to judge.

The difficulty we have here is there’s something about judging and punishing others that feeds us, and our appetite is insatiable. When we stand as judge, jury, and executioner over someone else, it makes us feel superior and righteous. And the alternative doesn’t give us the same feeling.

The alternative is mercy. It’s seeking to reconcile, to restore, to renew. What’s exciting about that? How does that make us feel better about ourselves? Yet the people of God are called to be merciful. We care called to be ministers of reconciliation.

Love is violent, make no mistake. But the violence of love is far different than the violence, whether spoken, physical, or psychic, that we dole out to others every day. The violence of love—a phrase used often by Saint Oscar Romero—is what we see on the cross. Jesus took the violence on himself. He didn’t strike out at those who mocked him; he forgave them. Showed them mercy. Didn’t judge.

This isn’t about giving others a pass, or pretending everyone is okay. It’s recognizing we’re all broken, and afraid, and angry, and ashamed. This kind of love, this kind of mercy, causes the spiral of violence to cease.

If we’re willing to imitate this kind of love, what we’ll find is it’s increasingly difficult to judge others. If we try the mirror first, if we can look at ourselves honestly and with the kind of mercy God shows us, then the tendency to judge slips away. “God,” says Saint Paul, “shows no partiality.” We might consider doing the same.

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Jeannette de Beauvoir is a writer and editor with the digital department of Pauline Books & Media, working on projects as disparate as newsletters, book clubs, ebooks, and retreats that support the apostolate of the Daughters of St. Paul at http://www.pauline.org.