In October, I had the joy of leading our Catholic Foundation of Oklahoma pilgrimage to France and accompanying our 22 pilgrims. Pilgrimages are the occasion for a renewal of faith and a strengthening of hope. Hope is very much at the heart of this Jubilee year with is themed “Pilgrims of Hope.”
On Sunday, you may have noticed that the priest at your parish was not wearing green, the liturgical color prescribed for Ordinary Time. He was wearing white for the Feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of Saint John Lateran.
The liturgical calendar is the Church’s schedule of feasts and seasons that mark the rhythm of our life of faith. The cornerstone of the liturgical year is Sunday, the Lord’s Day, which is always a “little Easter.” We also have seasons such as Ordinary Time and days such as Ash Wednesday, which begins the penitential season of Lent. We have Advent and the Christmas season, and the feasts of the various saints we venerate.
On Oct. 22, we will celebrate the feast of Saint John Paul II. Many who are reading this column will have personal memories of his life, ministry and heroic witness.
It should not come as a surprise that priests need time away from their ministry to recharge from time to time. We see this even in the life of Jesus, who “went up on the mountain by himself to pray” (Mt 14:23) and who “spent the night in prayer to God” (Lk 6:12) after times of intense teaching and ministry.
In this Jubilee year, we are called to be “Pilgrims of Hope.” In the spirit of the great Jubilee tradition, we are invited to live this sacred time not merely as an anniversary to be observed, but as a season of grace – a time to restore what has been lost, to heal what is broken and to bear Christ’s light into a dark world that longs for his peace.
The world knew her as Mother Teresa of Calcutta. As a young student priest in Rome, I had the unexpected privilege of meeting her when I celebrated Mass for her sisters at a soup kitchen they operated near the Colosseum.
As hard as it is to believe, another summer has come and gone. As I look ahead to the promise of a new school year and the cooler weather to come, I find myself reflecting on all that God has done over these past few months.
Deep beneath the streets of Rome, a hidden network of pathways connects past and present, offering us a glimpse into the early Christian experience. The catacombs, those underground burial sites often used by the first believers as well as others, were more than just resting places for the dead, they became sanctuaries for the living.
Summer has arrived and students and staff in our archdiocesan Catholic schools are taking a much-needed and much-deserved break, given the success of the just-concluded school year.
Each time we celebrate the ordination of new priests we have an opportunity to reflect on the gift and mystery of the ordained priesthood in the life of the Church.
During this time of year, the powerful story of Pentecost stirs deeply within my heart, as I visit parishes across our vast archdiocese to confer the Sacrament of Confirmation.
During the recent conclave there was intense speculation (and even wagering) about who would step onto the balcony of Saint Peter’s Basilica after the white smoke cleared and solemn proclamation rang out, “Habemus Papam.”
Springtime and the Easter Season are times when we celebrate new life. How appropriate, then, that we pause during this time of year to celebrate Mother’s Day. Though not a religious holiday, it’s a fitting time and occasion to celebrate the life we have received.
Even for Christians, the mystery of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ is more powerful than we generally understand or acknowledge. It is not an event of the past but a reality that still shapes our lives today.
By now, I suppose most of us have asked or have been asked, “What are you giving up for Lent?” It’s a popular topic in Catholic circles, within Catholic families, among friend groups and even among priests.
On March 5, we entered another season of Lenten preparation for the Easter joy of the Lord’s resurrection. Each year, Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent with a symbolic gesture of humble repentance by receiving ashes on our foreheads. It is a reminder of our own mortality.