Category: Church History

No Ordinary Smoke

Photo Source: Vatican News

“That seemed awfully quick.”

It was the first comment I saw on social media when the white smoke started billowing from the Vatican chimney.

As far as I was concerned, it hadn’t been quick at all. It had been 17 long days of waiting. Seventeen days marked with uncertainty. Seventeen days as an orphan.

It may sound strange to non-Catholics, but for this Catholic, those days were filled with a loneliness—a lack of direction or a life anchor in some ways. I missed the security of having a Holy Father.

To be fair, I didn’t always agree with Pope Francis, may he rest in peace. But there were things I admired. His simplicity and humility. His caring for the lowliest and the poorest. His worn black shoes.

Moreover though, I missed him as the head of the Roman Catholic Church and Successor to Saint Peter, to whom Jesus handed the keys to the Kingdom.

In those 17 days after his death, the keys were unclaimed, and in my mind, I was a ship without a rudder.

Needless to say, as the white smoke poured into the air, I was filled with a mixture of gratitude and praise, elation and relief. And yes, a few tears.

Because on the afternoon of May 8, God’s faithfulness was on display in a most magnificent way. On May 8, God spoke. He told us in no uncertain terms we had not been abandoned. He was with us. He’s always with us. And just as He promised, the keys of the Kingdom had been passed on and the See of Peter was once again occupied.

In those moments as the world rejoiced, we were all reminded that we serve a faithful God—a mighty and everlasting God who was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever.

Glory to God for His never-ending graces and mercies. And long live Pope Leo XIV.

Acknowledging the Golden Calf

One of this week’s daily Mass readings was a familiar one found in Exodus 32. As the story unfolds, Moses is on the mountain chiseling out the 10 commandments, while the Israelites are down below, getting rather antsy.

Whenever I heard this story in the past, I suspected these people were taking advantage of Moses’ absence. While the cat’s away the mice will play, am I right? 

The priest’s homily, however, turned that notion on its head and gave me a brand new perspective.

As he posited, far from being mischievous kids out looking for trouble, what if the idol—the golden calf—was not something they’d ever intentionally planned on? That, instead of yucking it up while Moses was away, they were mired with worry and fear, anxiety and uncertainty. 

Perhaps they were riddled with thoughts like, Why isn’t Moses back yet? How long will he be gone? Will he ever come back? And if he doesn’t come back, then what? 

As they waited around plagued with woe-are-we thinking, those fears and insecurities prompted the Israelites to look for some form of comfort, security, and certainty. They longed for something—anything to help them cope with their reality. Enter the golden calf. 

And this is the part that brings the story out of Exodus and into the 21st Century world, reminding us that the Word of God is very much alive.

How often do we become anxious or fearful, scared or angry? How often do we look for a way to ease that pain, in whatever form it takes? And much like the Israelites, instead of turning to the Divine Physician, we turn to our own golden calves.

Maybe we doom-scroll or mindlessly waste time to avoid something we don’t want to do. Or we eat or drink in excess, searching for comfort in that second slice of cake. Maybe we throw ourselves into work or live at the gym. Perhaps we sleep the day away or binge-watch every season of The Office. Ah, and one of my go-tos: the I’ll-do-it-myself attitude of individualism, because God must not realize how important such-and-such is. The -ism words and -holic words could go on and on.

Such are our golden calves. And I’d dare say most of us never intentionally set out to create these calves, but alas here they are. 

During this season of Lent, maybe God asks us not to burn our idols but rather look to the pain that we’d have those idols mask. To sit in silence with God and work through our human frailties—our pain—with him. To seek healing through the Divine Physician rather than masking our symptoms with distractions. 

And as we walk through that fire, may our great God through which everything is possible melt our idols and transform them into offerings.

The Manifestation of God

“From the east came the Magi to Bethlehem to adore the Lord; and opening their treasures they offered precious gifts: gold for the great King, incense for the true God, and myrrh in symbol of his burial.”

Today is the Feast of the Epiphany, or manifestation of Jesus. We did the annual blessing of our home with blessed chalk, writing 20+C+M+B+25. The letters are the first initials for the tradtional names of the three Magi: Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar. They also represent the Latin blessing “Christus mansionem benedicat,” meaning “May Christ bless this house.”

If you haven’t blessed your home yet, there’s still time. You can find a link to the full blessing and prayers here And if you need blessed chalk, I’ve got your back. 😉

#catholicliving #epiphany #catholicwritersofinstagram #traditions

A Season of Waiting

Last year’s Advent Wreath

Years ago, those few weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas represented weeks of disordered pressure in my life. Many a day was spent agonizing over the perfect Christmas gifts for everyone on my shopping list, stressing over whether the garland would look perfect, or questioning if the tree was tall enough.

But after converting to Catholicism a number of years ago, I rediscovered the season of Advent. And the beauty of this season forever changed the way I approach the month of December.

Unlike the chaos of America’s commercial Christmases and the hurry-up, do-more, buy-more attitude, Advent calls on us to slow down. To wait. To prepare our hearts for the coming of the King. To offer penance or sacrifice. Such is my focus.

Tomorrow, the day before Advent 2024 begins, I’ll make a trip to the florist and pick out the greenery for the Advent wreath, which becomes the central focus of our family room and kitchen. It’s light reminds us of God’s light breaking into the world.

We’ll also begin the Saint Andrew Christmas Novena tomorrow. Said 15 times a day beginning on Nov. 30, it’s a great devotion to add as an Advent sacrifice, and the graces that flow from this short prayer never fail to fill our lives.

As the days progress, the Christmas tree doesn’t go up until at least the 10th—usually much later. In fact, I wouldn’t mind doing it on the 23rd or 24th as it used to be way back in the day, but my husband, kids, and grands insist otherwise. OK, so I’ll give them that. On the other hand, that tree doesn’t come down until the 12 Days of Christmas have come and gone.

Each day of Advent, music suitable for reflection and preparation fill our home. So while I do listen to Advent music, I don’t turn on secular Christmas music until a week or two before the big feast day. And then it’s usually under duress. I’ve found that the music of Advent fills our home with a calm, peaceful grace of sorts. It reminds us to wait as the Blessed Virgin did. To wait on the Lord. To rightly order our days in prayer, trusting that all is well.

I truly believe that in participating in this season, we can slow down the mad pace of the modern world. Re-order the focus of the holiday season, and prepare our hearts for the greatest Gift ever bestowed on the world. In turn, may we reflect Christ’s light. O come, O come, Immanuel.

Below are some other Advent rituals we participate in. Check them out for yourself, and pick one—or all!—as Advent begins this Sunday.

This site has a good breakdown of the candles, what each color means, as well as five Advent wreath Ideas to spark your creativity:  How to make an Advent Wreath

One of my Spotify Advent playlists: