Category: Traditional Catholicism

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.

The Red Candle

Going to adoration as the Easter Triduum begins on Holy Thursday is an experience like no other in the Church.

It’s the night when Jesus institutes the Holy Eucharist, the source and summit of the Christian life. It’s the night when Judas betrays Jesus for 30 silver coins, then hands Him over to the enemy after identifying him with a kiss.

Thus marks the beginning of the end of the God Man’s life on earth.

As I contemplated the events that were about to unfold, I realized this visit to the Blessed Sacrament was unlike every other day of the year. Because in a matter of hours, that tall red candle that signifies Jesus’ true presence would be extinguished. And for the next 36 hours or so, Jesus would be gone from the tabernacle—because he was going to the tomb.

Of course he wouldn’t go to the tomb before dying a death thats brutality defies human comprehension. He wouldn’t go before breaking out in a blood sweat or before being denied three times by the man who would be our first pope. Nor would he go before being the victim of hatred and vitriol spewed at him by Jewish rulers. Surely their actions indicated they must’ve been overtaken by evil in those moments as they demanded His punishment be one reserved for the most hardened of criminals. And Jesus wouldn’t go to the tomb before being crushed under the weight of every sin that would ever be committed by the whole of mankind, past or present.

It was with that knowledge that I found it difficult to leave the sanctuary. I knew what was about to happen and I didn’t want to leave Jesus.

Or maybe I didn’t want him to leave me.

So I stayed an hour, then another. Oh how accustomed I’ve become to His presence—oh how I seek out the glow of the red candle that assures me of our Lord and Savior’s presence: body, blood, soul, and divinity.

And it was going away. Jesus was going away.

In those moments, I realized my own need to walk the way of the Cross. For there is no other way this side of Heaven. And sometimes a person just longs for it to be over, don’t they? To just skip the part with all the suffering and get straight to the good stuff—the resurrection. Heaven.

But as Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI said, we weren’t made for comfort, we were made for greatness.

With that in mind, I re-adjusted my thinking and promised Jesus I would walk with Him. That I’d see it through. By walking with Him, I can learn how to carry my own crosses.

And when the glory of Easter morning finally arrives, I can re-live the words of the angels at His tomb: He is not here, for he is risen. And I can rest in the reassurance that his passion wasn’t an end. It was only the beginning.

Oh my Jesus, forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of hell and lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of thy mercy.

On Picking Patron Saints

As we gathered for Mass on New Year’s Day, Fr. Shenoy Thomas spoke about the Blessed Virgin Mary and encouraged us to call on her more frequently as we walk into 2025. Just as Jesus gave her to John from the cross, he said, Jesus gave her to us. And she’s just as alive now as she was 2,000 years ago.

I felt as if he was speaking directly to me. Nudging me ever closer to Mom, challenging me to go deeper. To go further.

Flash forward to New Year’s afternoon, post-reuben sandwiches and black-eyed peas, to our annual Saint of the Year selection. We pull out a bag that contains dozens of strips of paper, each bearing the name of a saint or blessed. After asking the intercession of Blessed Mary and all the angels and saints, we select a slip of paper from the bag.

While the names of many well-known saints are tucked inside, there are others that aren’t exactly house-hold names. Take a couple of our past patrons, for example: Saint Seraphim and Blessed Miriam Teresa.

Whether they’re familiar or not, it really doesn’t matter, because we believe we aren’t so much choosing the saint as the saint is choosing us. Because of that, you’d think picking out a name wouldn’t be a big deal, but I don’t mind telling you it sure seems like a lot of pressure. In fact, I was hoping Dan would do the picking, but being the gentleman he is, I was tasked with said mission.
Our bag of patron saints

As the queen of overthinking, what could possibly go wrong other than me selecting the wrong slip of paper, am I right?

Nevertheless, our moment of reckoning was upon us, so I stuck my hand in the bag and tossed all the little pieces of paper around. After feeling around for just the right one, I held it between my fingers and hesitated.

Had I gotten the correct one? Or was our saint on the other piece of paper I’d moved to get to mine. Did I need to drop my paper and do some more digging? Back and forth the questioning went, until I realized that I’d indeed already chosen our saint—or rather our saint had chosen us. So I trusted the process, held onto my selection and pulled it out of the bag.

I unfolded the paper and read it to myself.

“Well?!” Dan asked. “Who is it?”

Instead of blurting out our saint, I read him the words that appeared under the name:

“Am I not here who am your Mother? Is there anything else that you need?”

Pray for greater dependence on the maternal love of Mary.

I could barely believe my eyes. Our Lady of Guadalupe had chosen us. She’d picked us, of all people to walk with through the Jubilee year. I don’t mind telling you it brought tears to my eyes.

Since then, we’ve noticed Our Lady of Guadalupe in myriad ways, from her image on one of the rosaries I use each day to a window cling that hangs in our kitchen window.

Even back in December, She’d been a subject of conversation between Father and I. And as fate would have it, Archbishop Salvatore Cordileon just announced a new initiative encouraging devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe, which includes a home enthronement.

Thinking back on that New Year’s Day homily, I realized Fr. Shenoy had indeed been talking to me, whether he knew it or not. And I imagine our Lady was right there looking on, smiling with great delight in the knowledge of what was to come.

Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us!

Ready to find your saint for 2025? Click here for access to a list of patron saint names. Or go here to have a saint selected for you.

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: