October 2024 – Beth Cotter

Sign of the Times

Have you ever wondered what the shortest books of the Bible are? That’s precisely where I found myself this morning as I flipped over to the Letter of Jude in honor of his feast day today. (Side note: he shares this day

with Simon the Zealot!)

The sole chapter of the Letter of Jude contains 25 verses. (Spoiler alert: it’s the fifth shortest of the Bible.) Though his 491 words are few, they pack a punch.

In fact, they’re equally as significant in 2024 as they were 2,000 years ago, as he writes of licentiousness and unnatural vice, of godlessness and wordliness.

“Woe to them!” he says, speaking of their fate.

Clearly his words are a warning, lest we too go down the path of the evil one.
But his letter goes a step further. He doesn’t just strand us there with the bad seeds. but rather tells of how to respond—how to maneuver times of great turmoil:

“But you, beloved, build yourselves up in your most holy faith; pray in the holy Spirit.
Keep yourselves in the love of God and wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life.
On those who waver, have mercy; save others by snatching them out of the fire; on others have mercy with fear,*abhorring even the outer garment stained by the flesh.”

He gave us marching orders. A battle cry, if you will. When the going gets tough, the tough, as they say, get going.

Our calling? To stay in God, to lift up others, to save those we can save. To daily strengthen and stand strong in our faith.

And to remember that nothing is impossible with God.

Saint Jude, pray for us!

#saintjude #patronsaintofimpossiblecauses #saintsimon #onetruefaith #catholicliving #catholicwritersofinstagram #2024election

Patrolling Earth

A recent daily Mass reading told the story of Job, who though an innocent, God-fearing man was pursued by evil. After losing everything and everyone except his wife in a matter of moments, he continued to praise God.

I remember in my younger days how unfair I thought his losses were. They’re still hard to comprehend in the grand scheme of things. But the truth is, there is no fairness on earth.

Which brings me to the first part of the reading. The part just before Job loses everything. Here are verses 6 and 7:

One day, when the angels of God came to present themselves before the LORD, the satan also came among them. The LORD said to the satan, “Where have you been?” Then the satan answered the LORD and said, “Roaming the earth and patrolling it.”

Did you catch that? Roaming the earth and patrolling it. Sobering as it may be though, we tend to think he’s roaming another part of the earth. Certainly not our part of the earth. Right?

But what if, as Fr. O’Doherty pointed out, we were to imagine him roaming down State Route 200 in Ocala? Or St Lucie Blvd in Stuart? Or insert-the-name-of-the-street-you-live-on?

If you look, you can find him—at least his influence—in hatred and vitriol that consume the internet. You can find him in vile lyrics of popular songs. His fingerprints are on human traffickers and in the abortion clinics. Wherever evil exists, so too does the satan.

Is it fair? To the human mind, no. But we do live in the valley of tears, after all.

Which isn’t to say we should live in fear. Not at all. God is the authority over all, including the satan. We should, however, know our one true enemy. We should all be on guard and cognizant of the fact that we’re in a daily spiritual battle between good and evil. And that battle is always taking place whether we acknowledge it or not.

So while the ultimate victory belongs to Christ who has already defeated, though not yet destroyed all the powers of hell, the prince of darkness is also the temporary prince of earth. As his time gets shorter and shorter, evil will continue to ratchet up. It will become easier and easier to see. And the satan will continue to roam and patrol the earth.

St. Michael the Archangel, pray for us!

The Crow of Many Roosters

It was a giant rooster, no doubt about it, standing in all its glory on the grounds of Queen of Peace Catholic Church. Not something one typically comes upon every day. Yet there it was. about six feet in stature if I had to guess. I was so enthralled that I asked Dan to drive by it so I could snap a photo.

Where had it come from? How long had it been there? How on earth had I never noticed it before?

“Come to think of it, there are other roosters here too,” Dan said.

“Hmm… You’re right!” I said. “One that sits on a shelf to the right of the altar.”

“There’s at least one more, too,” he said, describing a black rooster in the courtyard.”

I was stumped. Roosters. Three of ’em. But why?

The obvious answer would be a reminder of Peter’s three-time denial of Jesus. As both Matthew and Luke tell us, upon hearing the cock crow, Peter wept bitterly. Perhaps the roosters are reminders of repentance.

But that seemed way too obvious. Surely there was more to it. Especially in light of the fact that some scholars believe the cock-crowing Jesus referred to wasn’t a rooster at all, but a trumpet that was blown to signify the changing of the Roman guard.

Not to mention that the Sanhedrin didn’t allow poultry in the city of Jerusalem. And sure, the roosters’ crows could’ve traveled, but let’s stay on track, shall we?

Anyway, back to the roosters. Were there more of them, hidden throughout the grounds or slipped into the beautiful artwork and stained glass that adorn our church? Was this rooster hunt Fr. O’Doherty’s Catholic version of Where’s Waldo?

I wondered.

Knowing an answer to my question wasn’t coming immediately roosters, I pulled out my best research tools and searched for further connections between roosters and Christendom. (OK, so I Googled it.)

Throughout the centuries, roosters have symbolized a number of things. The early morning crows represent the dawning of a new day—an awakening. It’s a symbol of change and hope and a reminder of Christ’s unending mercy.

Pope Nicolas I ordered all Catholic churches to install a rooster weathervane on the steeple. Another pope, Gregory I, believed the rooster should be the official insignia for all of Christianity.

And while that was all well

and good, I wasn’t going to be satisfied until I discovered the rooster’s significance at my church.

So I met with the man himself, Fr. O’Doherty, and asked him to set the record straight. Was it a reminder of repentance that’s always available? A symbol of hope? Something more?

Turns out, none of my speculations had been accurate. Because it was not the affinity for said poultry that came first. It was the rooster itself—moreover it was the large rooster mentioned in the first paragraph. It’s actually about five feet tall and was a gift from a parishioner. And that one gift opened the proverbial chicken coop if you will, to a host of other cock-a-doodle-doos.

To date, I’ve uncovered several more roosters in and around Queen of Peace—most with Fr. O’Doherty’s help—bringing my total count to about eight or nine. He believes that’s about the extent of them.

At the end of the day, it’ll be up to the parishioners to interpret the roosters as they see fit. If nothing else, it leaves the door open for further speculation and stories—all of them true in their own way, of course. And as Father is fond of saying, “some of them actually happened.”