The Wellspring of Life or The Conformism of Power?

"God revealed the person’s destiny by revealing himself; he made known the name of human destiny through his presence; he intervened in order to remind us that he is the destiny of each one, the unum capable of making our life more human. And history is the long story of the reshaping of human pride, which tends to make its own image of its destiny, which tends to base the constitutive factors of its physiognomy on its total autonomy."

Human pride has asserted itself as the measure of meaning and the autonomous fabricator of the self, of the value of things, of relationships, of destiny. But "when God is eliminated as the wellspring and the law of life, reality becomes incomprehensible, elusive, precisely at the point which should be the center of awareness: the I. And so, with such confusion, the only energy that allows the natural propensity of people to come together and communicate seems to be that which is guaranteed by power, in its double modes of conformism and instrumentalization."

~Luigi Giussani 

Kateri: The “Lily of the Mohawks”

The story of Saint Kateri Tekakwitha, the "Lily of the Mohawks,” is dear to people of every heritage, but especially to Catholic Native Americans. Her brief life and luminous soul were a response to the Gospel being brought to the American northeast, and were formed by the witness of both the European missionaries and the baptized Native Americans who had come to know and love Christ before her.

Tekakwitha was born in 1656 in the Mohawk village of Ossernenon in present-day northern New York State. Her father was a high-ranking Mohawk chief, but her mother was Algonquin, a captive taken in a recent war, who had been catechized and baptized by French Jesuits. No one knows what mysterious communication took place between mother and daughter during the first four years of Tekakwitha's life. But it was through her own mother that Jesus first looked upon Tekakwitha with love.

Her parents died in a ravaging smallpox epidemic in 1660, and she was adopted by her uncle. Although she was scarred and partially blinded by the disease, Tekakwitha leamed to embroider and sew and carry out the tasks expected of a girl of high rank, and in due time her adoptive family sought to arrange a worthy marriage for her. But the young girl spurned all their efforts. They did not understand that she had already been touched and called by her true Spouse. The seed planted by her mother was growing in the secret depths of her soul.

A generation before Tekakwitha's birth, Jesuit missionaries were martyred by the Mohawks. But their blood would bear fruit. The missions continued in the region and the faith began to take root among the surrounding peoples. Following a treaty with the French, missionaries had begun to make converts among the Mohawks as well, and Tekakwitha no doubt heard the new Christians speak about the Creator who sent his Son into the world. She heard them sing Christian hymns in her native tongue. She embraced all that she learned in this way, and knew that it was God himself whom she truly loved. Thus, beginning with her mother, Jesus drew the heart of Tekakwitha to himself through the witness of her own people.

Nevertheless, she was a chief's daughter living a guarded and secluded life. But when Father Jacques de Lamberville came as missionary to her village, Tekakwitha was longing and praying to be able to meet him. It is not surprising that, one spring day in 1675, as he passed by what he thought was an empty dwelling, he felt called to enter. He was surprised to encounter this modest eighteen-year-old girl who opened her heart to him and told him of her burning desire to become a Christian. The next year she was baptized Catherine (Kateri in Mohawk).

She soon went to live in a village of converts called Kahnawake, near Montreal. Here she learned about the vocation to consecrated life. In 1679, Kateri Tekakwitha openly expressed her decision to take Jesus as her Spouse. She died the next year, the first Native American consecrated virgin, with the fire of her love having made a profound impact on her fellow converts and on the missionaries who knew her. That impact continues to grow even to this day.

Saint Benedict’s “Atmosphere of Prayer”

Here is Pope Benedict (of very happy memory) preaching about Saint Benedict, the 6th century “father of Western monasticism,” whose current feast day in the Roman rite is July 11:

"Saint Benedict's life was steeped in an atmosphere of prayer, the foundation of his existence. Without prayer there is no experience of God. Yet Benedict's spirituality was not an interiority removed from reality. In the anxiety and confusion of his day, he lived under God's gaze and in this very way never lost sight of the duties of daily life and of man with his practical needs... In contrast with a facile and egocentric self-fulfillment, today often exalted, the first and indispensable commitment of a disciple of Saint Benedict is the sincere search for God on the path mapped out by the humble and obedient Christ, whose love he must put before all else, and in this way, in the service of the other, he becomes a man of service and peace" (Pope Benedict XVI, Homily on Saint Benedict, 2008).

Celebrating the Catholic Martyrs of China

Pictured: Shrine of the 120 Martyrs in Taiwan.

The memorial of “Saint Augustine Zhao Rong and Companions, Martyrs” on July 9th celebrates 120 men and women (33 European missionaries and 87 Chinese) whose witness spans the entire period from 1648 to 1930, and who were martyred in different parts of China at different times under diverse local and/or imperial persecutions.

Although Augustine Zhao Rong is named explicitly at the head of this feast day, not many details are known about his life. The essential facts, however, are clear: Zhao was an adult convert to Christ, who became a Catholic priest in central and western China in the late 18th century. He exercised a remarkable and courageous ministry among his people. In 1815, under the persecution of Emperor Jiaqing, he became the first native Chinese priest to die for Christ.

Various accounts converge in their affirmation of one or more of these central points in Zhao Rong’s life. They provide different (possibly complementary) details regarding the circumstances of his conversion, and the persons who were instrumental in bringing him to a decisive encounter with Jesus. Zhao was a soldier in Sichuan in central China whose official duties led him to meet French missionaries of the Paris Foreign Missions Society. According to some accounts, he first met the priest (and later bishop) Saint Jean Gabriel Taurin Dufresse, who was arrested in Chengdu (capital of Sichuan). Zhao was part of the guard that accompanied the prisoner from Chengdu to Beijing – a long and difficult journey. The prisoner was extremely ill-treated the whole way, but he may also have been able to converse with his guards. In any case, we are told that Zhao was struck by Dufresse’s patience with his persecutors, and decided to become a Christian himself. It’s not clear when these events took place, as Dufresse was often imprisoned and transported under guard during his many years in China.

Other accounts attribute Zhao’s conversion to the ministry of another missionary of the Paris Foreign Mission Society, Blessed Jean-Martin Moye (who was not one of the 120 martyrs). In 1774, Moye was arrested in neighboring Guizhou province, subjected to torture and interrogation, and kept in the magistrate’s jail, where Zhao was one of his guards. Here, too, Moye was not prevented from speaking about his faith. Zhao was impressed not only by his courage but also by the reasonableness of his discourse. After Moye was released, Zhao followed him as a catechumen. According to these accounts, Moye baptized him on August 28, 1776, giving him the Christian name of Augustine in honor of that saint’s feast. Moye continued to guide this remarkable young man, eventually recommending him as a candidate for the priesthood.

This latter account seems to have more specific documentation, but perhaps Zhao was prepared to respond to Moye’s witness because he had already seen the holiness and patience of Dufresse. In any case, there is little doubt that he knew both of these missionaries who had come from far away and given themselves totally to the service of the Chinese people, learning their language, caring for them, enduring and forgiving their persecutors whose accusations against them were groundless: all to share with them the good news of the salvation of God through Jesus Christ in His Church. It was this kind of patient, attentive missionary witness that planted and cultivated the Catholic Church in China hundreds of years ago. Though small, the Church has persisted to this day, enduring even greater persecutions, which will eventually bear even more abundant fruit.

Magnolia Tree Blooming

Magnolia Tree Blooming in Summer 2025.

I Am the "Rich Man"

How hard it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.

I am a rich man. Our family is rich in material possessions and conveniences, in spite of what in the United States of America would be considered our precarious financial circumstances. I could scarcely manage without all the comforts of this fully industrialized and electronically developed society. I do not know where the clothes on my back or the food I eat or the furniture in my home come from, nor what web of unjust socioeconomic relationships govern the paths they travel from their places of origin to my home. I do not know what I or my family can do about the injustice in the world, but it is a reminder to pray to God that the relationships which are within the reach of our freedom may be founded on justice, solidarity, love, and mercy. And it is a reminder that we need to ask the Holy Spirit to transform our minds and open our hearts to the creative possibilities that God gives us to contribute to the common good.

I am a rich man in other ways too. There are riches that I possess in abundance, and that are very much at my disposal: the wealth of talent, capacity for expression, education, and experience in teaching others. I would like to think that here I have given liberally, that I have shared myself, that I have poured out these riches in love. But the truth is that even here I hoard my wealth. It is with these personal riches especially that Jesus says, "Go, sell all you have...follow me."

How much of my "giving" is really self-advancement? Very much, I fear. Images from the gospels resonate with my life: I love the special seats at gatherings, and being called rabbi. I love praying and performing religious acts for people to see, and--I hope--to applaud. I love to show my misery to the world so that everyone knows that I am suffering. It's such a sweet thing to get attention!

And so I have my "reward." I remain rich. I am a fool and a hypocrite. Even this confession of pharisaical behavior right now is really something of a scam; deep down there is that part of me that craves your admiration for my candor. Don't trust me! I don't trust myself!

The flaw, the twist, the self-love, the grasping seem to be a little mixed in with so much of what I do. And so it is, for human flesh and blood. "Forgive us our trespasses," we are taught to pray every day. The assumption, of course, is that we are going to trespass. Jesus doesn't want us to obsess over our faults, but to ask for the Father's mercy, and to be formed according to His will in the school that is this life: "Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

So we fail, and God is rich in mercy. But there is a special way that we must ask for God's mercy, and that is with the humility of hearts that are themselves merciful. "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us." Here Jesus sums up life. We sin. But others also sin against us. We are hurt. We are betrayed. We are the victims of injustice. We are neglected. But we must forgive others. We must be people of mercy. This is not easy. This is where I experience my powerlessness. Here I must really "sell all I have" and give it away. Here is where following Christ begins. Here is where true riches are to be found.

How can I be merciful to others? I must ask God to enable me to be merciful to others. Everything begins in the position of prayer and poverty before God. Another word for this kind of poverty is trust.

It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.

Now Peter is very perceptive at this point. He cries out, "then who can be saved?" It is more than a matter of economics, although on this level it is important to remember that there are, on the whole, two kinds of people: those who are rich, and those who want to be rich. On the personal level, however, everyone is "rich"--even if all he possesses is "himself." Because we must lose our very selves for His sake.

"For man it is impossible," Jesus says. So we can't trust in our own riches. We can't trust in ourselves!

"But nothing is impossible with God." So return, again and again, to that posture of begging for mercy, and that posture of trust because the God who does the impossible has given Himself to us. He wants to and He will transform us into people of compassion, people who give themselves away, people who follow Him and in Him discover the only true treasure, His Love.

I am a hypocrite and a fool, but I know that God's Mercy is true, and I want it, and I beg for it from God--I beg for it for myself and for the whole world. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have Mercy on me, a sinner.

Summer Scene

“Summer Scene” (Evening). July 2025.

The Ugly "Mass Deportation" Policy of this U.S. Regime

It's the evening of July 4, 2025. The horizon grows dim with the twilight. All around, there are the sounds of pop pop boom as people continue to set off fireworks. I'm walking in the dusky cool air on this melancholy Independence Day as the shadows grow over my native land.

I love my country. My ancestors came from the Mediterranean world, and I am the grandson of four birthright citizens. But I feel like my country has been hijacked!

What can I say about the government of the United States of America today, about the ruthless, ugly words and actions perpetrated by representatives of the current regime? What can I say about the persecution aimed at terrorizing whole communities of people, my neighbors in this country, who are being scapegoated, caricatured as “alien invaders” and criminals who are so dangerous that we are justified in treating them as sub-human? What can I say about a so-called “government program” marketed and presented with such undisguised brutality and vulgar “humor” that seems to invite us to laugh at the misery of others?

Today, we have government officials who do not know how to speak like adults, who threaten those who oppose them, who behave like thugs and bullies. They generate or exaggerate fear in order to push their merciless policies. They have no sense of statesmanship, no sense of common decency, no willingness to admit they're wrong, no clarity, no transparency, no honor.

Immigrants are "Foreign Invaders"?

And now, they have intimidated legislators into passing a statute that provides 170 billion dollars to fund a national Secret Police force of gigantic proportions. The new expanded ICE agency will continue on a much greater scale the raids by their (at best) poorly identified, anonymous face-covered officers and unmarked vans into mostly Latino/a neighborhoods, communities, and workplaces. They are essentially authorized to arrest and detain without due process anyone they suspect might be in “violation” of the hopelessly convoluted requirements of our broken immigration system. (The “Department of Homeland Security” posts creepy exhortations like the one pictured here, telling citizens to “report all foreign invaders,” using this term to slander these immigrants and manipulate our fears and prejudices.) And now,  miserable “detention centers” are being built (such as one recently opened in the Florida Everglades) to hold indefinitely and defenselessly thousands of people. The vast majority of undocumented immigrants are not criminals (much less “invaders”). Some have been in this country for decades, working, paying U.S. taxes, raising families, and making constructive contributions to their communities and U.S. society.

We need a reformed immigration system that is equitable and generous in providing various pathways for people — especially our regional neighbors — to reside and work in our country on a temporary or permanent basis. 

Certainly we have a responsibility to protect our borders, and to protect the people who live here from violent criminals and genuine threats to our national security. But we must not close ourselves off to those who are in need or in danger in their own lands, especially when they include so many who are willing to work hard and use their gifts to contribute to our commonwealth. Why would we want to purge these people from our land and visit scorn and contempt upon them? They are human beings who want to live in accordance with their dignity. 

Let us not forget: the United States is a phenomenally rich country. Our neighbors are sometimes desperately, intractably poor. We have a responsibility to help them. There are many ways we can try to help them, but we must begin by recognizing their dignity as human persons, children of God, our brothers and sisters.

Does the current deportation policy respect the human dignity of our immigrant brothers and sisters? Does the flippant attitude, the brash posturing, the fear-mongering, the scapegoating, and the vulgar threats and denunciations against those who oppose this policy show respect for anyone's human dignity?

Act of Faith

I know that I haven't been writing much lately. There are too many words going around, words of deception, words of insult and mockery, words that perpetuate the ongoing manipulation of "information."

There is a value to silence. The silence of study and searching for understanding. The silence of patience. The silence - sometimes - of sickness, exhaustion, and perhaps rest and recuperation. The silence of worshipping God, longing for Him, begging for Him from out of all the pain and distress that try to sink me. The silence of prayer. The silence which engenders an act of faith.

"Every time we perform an act of faith addressed to Jesus, contact is established with Him, and immediately his grace comes out from Him. At times we are unaware of it, but in a secret and real way, grace reaches us and gradually transforms our life from within" (Pope Leo XIV).

Pope Leo Meets With the People of “Martyred Ukraine”

We must not forget that Ukraine is still struggling against Russia's brutal invasion and ongoing war of aggression. Recently, Putin has intensified attacks, seeking to benefit from the global spotlight moving to Iran. 

Last week Pope Leo XIV met with His Beatitude Sviatoslav Shevchuk, Primate of the Ukrainian Greek (Byzantine) Catholic Church and thousands of Ukrainian Catholic pilgrims. Pope Leo again expressed solidarity with "Martyred Ukraine" and sorrow for the "victims of this senseless war." Leo exhorted them (as Sviatoslav has many times) to trust in God who will lead them from their present sufferings to the fruits of redemption: His word of life will prevail.

Peter and Paul (and John and Eileen)

Ah, the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul. 

So many things could be said about these two Apostles—whose ministries were so fundamental for the whole Church—and the different stories of their martyrdom (both in the Imperial Capital) in the decade of the '60s in the first Christian century.

I would like to dwell on the particular memories of two Roman pilgrims who were both present in the huge congregation of Saint Peter's Basilica for the Liturgy of today's feast 29 years ago, in 1996. They were newlyweds, who were beginning the great journey of their married life with a grand adventure of travel through the Italian peninsula, starting in Rome.

Eileen and I both consider ourselves "Romans" by virtue of the (different) times we each lived and studied there in our youth, as well as by our pilgrimage/excursion together at the beginning of our married life. The special significance of the Eternal City has also extended to the next generation of Janaros. Our four university graduates all participated in the Semester in Rome program, and two of them shared crucial moments together with their future spouses during their time in the city of La Dolce Vita. John Paul and Emily began dating in Rome in 2018. Lucia and Mike became engaged in the piazza of Saint John Lateran on a lovely spring day in 2021.

But returning to the original John-and-Eileen story: we spent three and a half weeks in Italy for our honeymoon back in 1996. We were able to make this beautiful and multifaceted trip because we didn't seek a "lovers' solitude" experience; we spent all but five nights at the homes of friends (we had—and still have—lots of Italian friends). We are both Italophiles (and overall Europhiles), and I have Italian heritage from my immigrant ancestors.

It was a real trek, from Rome to Assisi to Florence to Ravenna to Milan to the Italian Riviera. I'm so glad we did it then, when we had the time and the energy of our youth (well, relative youth—as I noted last week, I was 33 and she was 29). I'm glad that, while we were still able and vigorous, we rode trains and buses, hiked steep ancient cobblestone streets, prayed in venerable churches and marveled at great works of art, hauled bags that got bigger and bigger as we accumulated loot along the way, got local tours from our friends and tips about the best hole-in-the-wall restaurants, and slept on floors or (worse) the infamous Italian "letto" that rolls out at night from under the sofa. We had a blast, and we also had plenty of time for "romance." 

I recommend this kind of honeymoon for you young folks, especially if you are both ardent humanities buffs like us. Trust me, you will never be able to throw yourselves about with such freedom as in these early days of marriage. Soon come the babies, and then come the bad backs and the arthritis. Youth is the time to explore, to rough it, to have an adventure, especially with your spouse. Go somewhere beautiful and fascinating, full of human history and aesthetic richness. Or go on pilgrimage to the places where God's love has touched the world. You will build a foundation of common experience that will stay with you forever.

In Rome we spent a week and a half at an apartment not far from the Vatican, with a friend's mother. This lovely old woman cleared a room for us, made coffee for us every morning, and often fed us abundantly in the kitchen at night (even if we had already eaten). I have never found a restaurant that can match the culinary magic that happens in the simple Italian kitchen. Oh, my my!

We went to all our favorite spots in Rome and shared them together. We brought our gratitude and hopes for our newly married life to the tomb of Saint Peter, and prayed there for a good long time. We explored churches and ruins and great art. June 29th sticks in my mind because we went to Saint Peter's basilica for the ceremony in which the Pope (then Saint John Paul II) invests new Archbishops with the pallium, a woolen band worn as a sign of their particular responsibility and their communion with the Pope.

It was a beautiful ceremony, very crowded of course, so that we barely had a glimpse of the Pope (we had no idea that we were going to meet John Paul II a few days later, embrace him, speak to him, and receive his blessing on our married life—but that's another story that I've blogged about before).

June 29th is the feast celebrating the Apostles who founded the "local" Church of Rome (whose Bishop, through Peter, preserves to this day the primacy of teaching and jurisdiction that enables Popes to serve the truth and unity of the whole Church). We were so happy just to share in this beautiful event with John Paul II and his brother Archbishops in a liturgy that in a special way was dedicated to the service of ecclesial communion and solidarity. 

We knew that we were called, within our marriage union and its (then future) fruition of family life, to serve and build up ecclesial communion in our own way, among ourselves and with the people entrusted to us in our daily lives "on the roads of the world."

After the liturgy and in the midst of the crowds in front of Saint Peter's Basilica, we bumped into a new Archbishop from Malaysia. He spoke English, and so it was easy to strike up a conversation with him. He was a bishop from the “other side of the world” who was nevertheless someone with whom we could rejoice on this patronal feast of the Church of Rome — someone we recognized in that moment as an esteemed spiritual father and brother. We asked for and received his blessing; thus this kindly Malaysian man became the first bishop to bless our marriage. Thinking about this after 29 years, I don't even remember his name.

But Rome is like that. It's more than a gorgeous city steeped in over two thousand years of history, and containing some of the greatest artistic treasures in the world. Rome is the center of a Catholic Church that is more and more extensively embodying its "universal" character. Rome is a place of beautiful and surprising encounters with people from all over the world. We find ourselves united in Christ's Mystical Body, and journeying together toward His glory. We will never forget these experiences of 29 years ago with people from all over the world, with people walking together with Jesus according to His mysterious design for each one of us. 

Rome is a place where people discover that they are not alone.

A Mother's Heart Carries the Gift of Peace

Let's continue to pray to the Immaculate Heart of Mary for peace in these times of great danger and fragility in our poor suffering world. She knows how to bring us to the Heart of her Son, Jesus our Brother, who wants so ardently to forgive us, heal us, and reconcile us to one another. We are blessed to be embraced by the tender, attentive, faithful love of Mary's maternal heart.

Meek and Humble of Heart

"Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light" (Matthew 11:28-30).

Luigi Giussani: The Mystery Draws Close To Us

Luigi Giussani emphasizes that the Mystery which is the Source of everything, in revealing Himself as "Father," shows Himself to be our intimate companion.

"Even if it is translated into human terms, the result of revelation must be the intensifying of mystery as mystery. It must not reduce mystery, like a human being saying, 'I understand!'but rather deepen it. In this way, it is understood and yet always more understood as mystery. 

"For example: the world and my own life depend on God. And this is true. But if we replace the enigmatic word 'mystery' that reality suggests, with the word, 'Father' that revelation implies, then we have an extremely comprehensible term, which is part of our experience: it is Father who gives me life, who has introduced me to the beauty of things, who has put me on my guard against possible dangers. Voilà: the Absolute, the Mystery, is Father, to repeat, 'tam pater nemo.' No one is such a Father. This truth that Christ has revealed does not diminish the Absolute. Rather, it deepens our knowledge of the mystery: Our Father who art at the depths, who art in heaven, Our Father who art in my profound roots, Thou who art now making me in this instant, who generate my path and guide me to my destiny! 

"You can no longer retract after hearing these words of God. You can no longer go back. But, at the same time, the mystery remains, remains more profound: God is father, but he is father like no other is father. The revealed term carries the mystery further within you, closer to your flesh and bones, and you really feel it in a familiar way, as a son or daughter. There is no one who respects the sense of truth and is as devoted to his father as when the father is truly an intimate companion."

~Luigi Giussani, The Religious Sense, chapter 15.

The Birth of Saint John the Baptist

Happy Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist! 

Today is my "name day" (along with many other more important things). We sometimes feel so "familiar" with the gospel accounts of John the Baptist that we can forget the singular role he plays in the history of salvation. He is the prophet heralding the coming of the Messiah - in history, in the Sacred Scriptures, and in the "rhythm" of liturgical life.

"There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world" (John 1:6-9).

Here is an excerpt from the Preface to the Eucharistic Prayer in the Roman Rite, which sums up his ministry from his joyful testimony in his mother's womb to his birth, his prophetic testimony, his place in the "theophany" of Christ's baptism in the Jordan, and his martyrdom:

"In his Precursor, Saint John the Baptist,

we praise your great glory,

for you consecrated him for a singular honor

among those born of women.

His birth brought great rejoicing;

even in the womb he leapt for joy

at the coming of human salvation.

He alone of all the prophets

pointed out the Lamb of redemption.

And to make holy the flowing waters,

he baptized the very author of Baptism 

and was privileged to bear him supreme witness

by the shedding of his blood."

The “Hunger” Present Within Every Person

From Sunday: Beautiful witness of Pope Leo to the grace of Christ's presence in the Blessed Sacrament.

Happy Anniversary to Us!

Eileen and I had a very happy 29th wedding anniversary.

I was able to have a dozen roses delivered this morning, but in a very “2025 fashion” — via the internet and the local Wal-Mart! My mind harkens back three decades, to the 1990s, when a dozen roses from the local florist were (as I recall) more expensive. Or maybe I was just poorer. After we were married, for many years I picked up roses or other flower arrangements at the supermarket. Now I don’t drive anymore, and none of the kids were around this weekend to take me anywhere, so I had to have the roses delivered. I guess it sounds more cheesy than romantic. But the buds have opened up nicely. And Eileen was surprised!☺️❤️

Even though both of us were a bit older than usual when we got married (ages 29 and 33), we were still lovebirds in the beginning. Then — of course — came the kids, and it seems like an entire lifetime that we spent raising them. Actually Jojo is living at home: next school year will be her last at White Oaks — the upper school at the John XXIII Montessori Center — but we are always happy to have her around. 

We are grateful to God for everything.

An Act of War

June 21, 2025. And so it begins... Perhaps? United States bombing of Iran today leads in what direction? A terrifying escalation of war in the borderlands of East and West? We have “entered the fog” and cannot know where we are being led.

Save us O Lord!

Summer Glows With Warm Colors

Some "impressions" as we embark on the Summer of 2025:

The Gift of His Person

"Faith is primarily a response to God’s love, and the greatest mistake we can make as Christians is, in the words of Saint Augustine, 'to claim that Christ’s grace consists in his example and not in the gift of his person' (Contra Iulianum opus imperfectum, II, 146). How often, even in the not too distant past, have we forgotten this truth and presented Christian life mostly as a set of rules to be kept, replacing the marvelous experience of encountering Jesus – God who gives himself to us – with a moralistic, burdensome and unappealing religion that, in some ways, is impossible to live in concrete daily life" (Pope Leo XIV).