Jim, Jim, I wore a tie today,
The first one that I ever wore.
You’d have said I looked like a dummy,
Down at the dry goods store.

That was country music legend Willie Nelson circa 1985. It was a duet with fellow legend Johnny Cash, who sang the second verse:

Jim, Jim, the preacher said a lot of things,
But I didn’t hear a word he said.
My mind kept wanderin’ back down the trail,
Back to the good times we had.

The song is about two humble and simple men burying their friend, with whom they once rode the trails and panned for gold.

Near the end of the song the words are gently spoken:

We did everything we could do for you, Jim.
But your fever just wouldn’t go down.

So we put you in the wagon, Jim.
And this mornin’ we got you back to town.

But when we got here, you were gone, Jim.
And there wasn’t anything anybody could do.

They dressed you up in a fancy suit and a necktie,
So, today we wore one too.

Now, here is a question: Why did those two old cowboys wear ties to the funeral? Did they dress up in order to call attention to themselves? Were they saying, “Look at me in my fine clothing”? No. The two men wore ties out of humility. They dressed formally out of respect and honor for their friend.  

“What should I wear?” That was the title of Bishop Johnston’s column some years back in our Diocesan paper, the Catholic Key. Growing up, the bishop remembered his mother frequently asked that question when preparing for different occasions.

In it, the bishop cited a recent article he read on the “Casual Revolution” of the 1970s. Written by a fashion editor, it was about the change in dress spawned from the Cultural and Sexual Revolutions of the late 1960s. The casualization expressed (and expresses) individual freedom over and above the “sense of occasion.” The fashion editor writes: “Occasions are shared public realities, rituals, in which we recognize something other than private expression.”

Occasions are also communal in that we give ourselves over to something bigger than ourselves. Occasions cause us to be humble, and our dress is a sign of that. The bishop wrote, “Wearing one’s Sunday best, as much as kneeling, was a visible sign of a humble heart.”

At Mass, and most everywhere else, you see me dressed in a cassock, a long, black vestment that covers my whole body. The word cassock most likely comes from the Turkish word for “nomad,” or “adventurer.” History knows these adventurers as the Cossacks. They were Slavic soldiers and horsemen who wore long vestments.

For centuries priests wore cassocks, but in late 1800s American priests were instructed to wear frock coats instead. The idea was to protect them from anti-Catholic violence. The coats would help the priests fit in with the age by being more “Americanized.”

However, in the 20^th century, Catholics started taking over American culture, and the cassocks went back on the priests. But with the sexual revolution, the Church lost what it had gained. And here’s something ironic and sad: As part of the casual revolution of the 1970s, priests stopped wearing their cassocks. Not, mind you, out of fear of violence, but so they could fit in with the age.

What kind of age is it? It is an age when individual freedom trumps occasions; when contraception, fornication, abortion, pornography, and sexual perversion are now mainstream and protected by law.

Younger priests (and not-so-younger priests, like me) are wearing cassocks again. Why? Are we out to tell the world, “Look at me in my fine clothing”? No. We are saying “Look at me. I’m dead.” Yes, to drape a large, black cloak over one’s entire body is to say, “I am dead to the world.”

What about you? Are you dead? Are you humble? Does wearing casual clothing like tee shirts, shorts, and blue jeans to Holy Mass speak to the occasion? The knee-jerk reaction to that question, conditioned by a culture that no longer fears God, a culture that thinks the only person in hell is Adolph Hitler, is this: “God doesn’t care what I wear to Mass.” Well, how do you know that? Where is that written?

Citing C.S. Lewis, Bishop Johnston wrote: “The modern habit of doing ceremonial things unceremoniously is no proof of humility.” The bishop reminded us that the only time Christ mentioned proper dress was when the man who did not bring his wedding garment to the wedding got kicked out into the darkness, where there was wailing and gnashing of teeth.

You could argue that was just a parable, symbolism. That may be so. But the wedding to which Christ referred was His marriage to the Church. That was not a parable. It was a reality. And it still is a reality; the marriage supper of the Lamb that ransoms us from hell. That reality then, we can reasonably deduce, calls for a proper wedding garment, clothing appropriate for the occasion.

Most Catholics today smirk at what I just preached. And why not? For much of their lives, they’ve attended Mass in stripped-down, de-beautified churches and were taught out of watered-down catechisms.

Am I being a rigid fundamentalist on this? That is a term the late Pope Francis applied several times to people like me; people who don’t particularly care to get with the times.

Pope Francis also used the term “peacock” in regards priests that “wear their Sunday best” for Holy Mass. In April 2017, he even applied the term “peacock” to laypeople who wear their best clothes to Mass. He called it “vanity” and a source of division.

Many found the pope’s observations bizarre. Their experience has been that, generally speaking, the people in the wealthy suburban parishes are the ones improperly dressed, whereas the poor in the inner cities, generally a humbler species, dress for the occasion.

My two grandfathers were unskilled laborers. My Grandad Schmidt made bricks. Every morning he hitched up a horse that would walk around a large round vat of mortar to keep it stirred up. He manually made bricks all day, for years. My Grandad Drew, a smaller man, like me, delivered coal and blocks of ice all day. Those two men, dressed in work clothes, got dirty all week. But on Sunday they went to Mass in a tie and a white shirt that their wives had pressed.

Were my grandads peacocks?

If some of you men put a tie on for Mass, well, you might look like a dummy in a dry goods store, and that would be a beautiful thing. It would be humility, not vanity, to hang a tie around your neck in honor of Him who was hanged on Calvary. It would show God and others that you are giving yourself over to something bigger than yourself. Who then will you love more? Your father or mother, son or daughter—or Christ?

I’d say it’s time to start getting a little uncomfortable at Holy Mass. It’s time to start having some fear of the Lord. You should dress then in the proper wedding garments for the shared public reality, the ritual that is Holy Mass. Yes, humbly dress formally out of respect and honor for your friend, the truest friend and family member you will ever have—Jesus Christ, your Lord and Savior.  

Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash

As our nation turns its attention to the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, I’ve found myself wrapped up by a sobering event: 9/11. I am recalling the manner Americans instantly sought God in our collective grief.

A quarter century after America’s worship spaces overflowed with grieving citizens, there is little reason to believe the anniversary of our nation’s birth will unite us—not even briefly. The heartbreaking truth is that our divisions seem only to deepen year by year.

For the faithful, this dark reality carries a particular weight. We know our fractiousness is not just a civic catastrophe; but a seemingly irreparable spiritual wound. Even Christians, who are commanded by Jesus to love their enemies, seem to hate them more and more. Political balkanization, moral relativism, emotivism, and the muted prophetic voice of hesitant Catholic clergy have all worked to pull a heavy tarpaulin over pleasing anthems, Baseball, Apple Pie, and Chevrolet jingles, and movies like It’s a Wonderful Life and Rocky.

There is, however, an answer to America’s unraveling. And it is the only real path capable of uniting us—or, at the very least, bringing us closer together and greater order to our chaos.

A wave of benevolence will undoubtedly sweep across our nation of 340 million people if Americans came to know the lives of our canonized saints, blesseds, venerables, and servants of God. Their stories are not Catholic stories; they are American stories—accounts of men and women whose lives were marked by courage, sacrifice, mercy, and a commitment to the poor and common good.

I write these words not only to Catholics, but also to every American—Jew, Muslim, Protestant. What I propose has nothing to do with devotion to Mary, praying the Rosary, belief in the Real Presence, or acceptance of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. Whatever our religious convictions, any thoughtful non-Catholic of good will can look to America’s Catholic saints—and to the hundreds of men and women whose causes for canonization are now under consideration—and recognize in their lives examples of virtue and imitation.

None sought fame; all sought God alone.

Most of them were ordinary Americans who woke each morning, went about their daily lives, and simply tried their best. They were Black, White, Native American, and immigrants. They were husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, priests and religious, laborers and educators.

Some died young, others in middle age, and still others after long lives well lived. What united them was not extraordinary talent or worldly success, but an extraordinary commitment to loving God, living virtuously, and serving their neighbors.

They were far from perfect. One had an abortion. At least one divorced. Others had to fight to overcome poor decision-making. One was condemned by his own bishop.

They lived lives that, by worldly standards, were unspectacular. Blessed Solanus Casey spent the majority of his priesthood answering the monastery door. Charlene Richard, the “Little Cajun Saint,” was a twelve-year-old girl who offered her suffering for the salvation of souls before her death. Irving “Francis” Houle was a Michigan husband, father of five, and manufacturer who pursued holiness through faithful family life.

Venerable Augustus Tolton was born into slavery and became the first publicly recognized Black Catholic priest in the United States. His friend, St. Katharine Drexel, relinquished her inheritance to found dozens of schools and missions for Black Americans, Native Americans, and other marginalized communities.

Thankfully, these stories and many others will be shared from July 1-9, at the “Catholic Saints of America” exhibit on the site of the only Church-approved Marian apparition site in the United States in Champion, Wisconsin. Relics, exhibits, and nearly eighty saints’ guilds will celebrate some of America’s most remarkable men and women. 

A special novena prayer begins on July 1st (which can be found on the link at the bottom of this article) that seeks Mary’s intercession for unity, holiness, and renewal nationwide.

A Tale of American Heroism

What follows is just one story, among hundreds, that will be shared next week on how a single American helped to reshape the world.

In 1957, Washington DC-native Fr. Aloysius Schwartz promised Our Lady—at an obscure apparition site in Banneux, Belgium—that he would enter the poorest places on earth to help save the bullied, abandoned, abused, and poverty-stricken.

As his formation in Louvain edged closer to his ordination, the idea of nailing himself to the Cross as the Jesus Christ, in persona Christi, gnawed at the seminarian. To serve Christ in total, Aloysius felt he needed to embrace and live out Christ’s Passion. After ordination in 1957, Schwartz raised his hand to be sent to the saddest place in the world: South Korea after the Korean War.

On the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, he stepped off the train in Seoul as a fresh-faced priest and found himself in a post-war dystopian novel. Putrefied sewage, decaying animals, and human waste scorched his nostrils, the incense of his new home. America wasn’t his any longer. Fr. Al had given everything in his life to the Virgin of the Poor, and she in turn gave him her poor.

He stood there like Ichabod Crane on the bitterly cold day, looking startled and fence-post skinny inside his wind-whipped cassock, his sharp, dominant nose seemingly pointing out to the ruination before him. Squatters with blank stares picked through hills of garbage. Paper-fleshed orphans lay on the streets like leftover war landmines, beggars huddled in cardboard boxes, and lunatics muttered into the long-traveling winds coming from the plains of Manchuria in northern China.

An exhausted-looking boy, unnoticed by Seoul’s morning passersby, zombied up a frozen path with a small girl, about three years old, tied to his back. She resembled a clump of unwashed clothes. Her hair was matted and had fallen out in patches. She was sick. The boy’s thin, cotton clothing looked to have just sopped up mud. Fr. Al’s heart was wrung.

The boy and girl collapsed onto the ground. The sunken-eyed boy watched the soles of shoes, few of whose wearers stopped to notice, parade past in a whir. The pair laid on the path; it seemed to be a good place to die. Fr. Al had just encountered the first of countless thousands of orphans he would raise up.

Shortly, Fr. Al would reach down to lift up a child, then another. And within a few years, he would begin to change the course of Korean history. Many people on the Korean peninsula began to see him as Atlas. Others just called him the Father of Orphans.

Fr. Al, who grew up poor in a Washington D.C. rowhouse during the Great Depression, realized early on that his priestly identity needed to take on features of the world’s poor and abandoned. As Christ loved and became one with the poor, he would, too.

A Father of Orphans

Fr. Al is now on the path to sainthood in the Church. Since forming the religious order of the Sisters of Mary in 1964, more than 175,000 of the world’s poorest children in seven counties have graduated from his authentically Catholic Boystown and Girlstown communities.

These Boystowns and Girlstowns have produced professional athletes, orchestral musicians, CEOs, restaurant owners, teachers, attorneys, engineers, architects, priests, nuns, and countless other professions. Each of these students and graduates shares one thing in common; they once grew up in stark poverty. Many would be dead if Fr. Al hadn’t reached for them.

Fr. Al had a mission to tend to orphans, to lepers, to outcasts, to unwed mothers, to the developmentally disabled, and all others on the margins. He built hospitals, schools, sanatoriums, homeless centers, houses for the disabled and for unwed mothers. The work eventually expanded to the Philippines in the 1980s. When he opened the doors to the Mexican poor in 1991, his body was fading away in the grip of ALS.

The reason many of you don’t know about his saintly life is that he didn’t want you to know. He prayed not to be known.

In 1992, before his body faded away in the grip of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s Disease), it is believed that perhaps no priest in the history of the world did as much as he did for the orphaned and tormented child.

Organizers believe more than 15,000 people will visit Wisconsin over the next ten days, where many will encounter lives of such extraordinary virtue that they seem impossible by modern standards. Yet these men and women were real Americans whose lives reshaped the nation.

Fr. Al Schwartz, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, St. Damien of Molokai, and Venerable Patrick Peyton rightfully belong alongside Jackie Robinson, Amelia Earhart, George Washington, and Abraham Lincoln in the American story. They, too, helped shape the character of our nation through lives of holiness, service, and love.

And perhaps, at this hinge point in our history, they are among those best equipped to show us the way back.

CATHOLIC SAINTS OF AMERICA

Celebrating Our Nation’s 250th Birthday
July 1–9, 2026 | National Shrine of Our Lady of Champion | Champion, Wisconsin

In honor of America’s 250th anniversary, the National Shrine of Our Lady of Champion will host Catholic Saints of America, a special celebration highlighting the holy men and women who have shaped the Catholic Faith in the United States. The event will feature an inspiring exhibit on American saints, blesseds, venerables, and servants of God; opportunities to venerate relics; presentations from shrines and guilds promoting American sainthood causes; daily speakers; and a Novena for Our Nation praying for unity, holiness, and renewal. Featured figures include Augustus Tolton, Solanus Casey, Dorothy Day, Frances Xavier Cabrini, and many others whose lives witness to faith, sacrifice, and service. Mass will be celebrated daily. The Shrine is located at 4047 Chapel Drive, Champion, WI 54229. For more information, call 920-866-2571 or email info@championshrine.org.

Photo by Marek Studzinski on Unsplash

A Visitor from Heaven, Part I: Apparitions in Northern Italy

Last year, in remote Poland, an intriguing book appeared around private apparitions of Blessed Jerzy Popiełuszko. This publication may serve as a spiritual guide for all who desire to enter through the narrow gate and live forever with Jesus. It is available for purchase online, though unfortunately only in Polish for now. I hope it will one day be translated into English.

Relics of Fr. Jerzy are present in approximately eleven hundred locations in Poland and seven hundred locations abroad, across six continents. They can be found in countries such as Australia, South Korea, Vietnam, the Ivory Coast, and the United Arab Emirates.

The many graces and miracles occurring through his intercession may indicate that Providence wishes to convey something important to modern man living in an ultra-secularized world. This provides even greater reason to believe that the experiences of an unknown woman from the small town of Fiumicello are of divine origin.

For those who have never heard of Fr. Jerzy Popiełuszko, I will briefly present this Polish Martyr for the Truth. I will then turn to another remarkable figure: the Italian Francesca Sgobbi, whom readers may well be tempted to call a mystic. In each section of this series, except this one, there will be a short message reportedly given from Heaven offered as a reflection.

A DIFFICULT PATH TO THE PRIESTHOOD

Jerzy Popiełuszko was born in Okopy in 1947, in northeastern Poland. Following his graduation in 1965, he entered the Metropolitan Seminary in Warsaw. At the start of his second year, his studies were abruptly interrupted when Seminarian Popiełuszko was conscripted for military service from 1966 to 1968 in an infamous special unit for clergy in Bartoszyce.

It was in the ranks of the communist army that his extraordinary fortitude and deep Christian witness truly became known. Private Popiełuszko courageously led forbidden religious devotions and gave spiritual strength to his fellow soldiers, even as he endured harsh reprisals: public ridicule, gruelling drills, crawling through the bitter frost, and the humiliation of cleaning latrines while wearing a gas mask.

After his ordination in 1972 by Poland’s primate, Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński, he served in several parishes in Warsaw and worked as a hospital chaplain before becoming an assistant priest at St. Stanislaus Kostka Church in the Żoliborz district in 1980.

THE CHAPLAIN OF SOLIDARITY

In August 1980, as strikes spread across the country, the protesting workers at the nearby Huta Warszawa steelworks needed a priest to celebrate what would be a historic first: Mass inside a communist workplace. Since no other priests were available, Fr. Jerzy stepped forward to take on this dangerous task. It was there that he blessed the Solidarity banner.

From then on, the steelworkers began coming to see him with their whole families—wives and children included. “This approachable, down-to-earth priest, who could bridge any divide and spoke in plain, simple language, was truly extraordinary,” the workers recalled. A spiritual renewal followed: men returned to the confessional after decades away, couples regularized their marriages, and many adults sought the sacrament of Baptism.

In February and November of 1981, Fr. Jerzy also accompanied striking students of the Medical Academy in Warsaw and cadets at the Higher Officer School of Fire Service. As Fr. Teofil Bogucki, then-pastor of St. Stanislaus Kostka Parish, recalled, his presence during the strike “exerted a great formative influence on him and directed the course of his future life.”

Following the imposition of martial law in Dec 1981, Fr. Jerzy attended court hearings and organized help for the Interned and began celebrating monthly “Masses for the Homeland.”

DARKNESS CLOSING IN  

Month by month, the atmosphere surrounding Fr. Popiełuszko grew increasingly tense. He was constantly followed and knew that both his apartment and telephone were bugged. There were frequent attempts at intimidation.

In December 1983, the priest was interrogated by the prosecutor’s office, and a search was ordered of an apartment left to him by his aunt. There, ammunition, illegal publications, and many other incriminating materials—previously planted by the Security Service—were “found.” He was detained for one day and released only after the intervention of Bishop Dąbrowski. In response, a fierce media smear campaign was launched against him, initiated by the Soviet newspaper Izvestia, and promoted in Poland by the government spokesman Jerzy Urban, who accused Fr. Jerzy of organizing “sessions of hate.”

ABDUCTION AND MARTYRDOM

On that fateful day, October 19, 1984, Fr. Popiełuszko travelled to Bydgoszcz, where he celebrated the Mass and led the Rosary meditations at the Church of the Holy Polish Martyrs. The final words of these reflections were: “Let us pray that we may be free from fear and intimidation, but above all from the desire for revenge and violence.”

On his way back, late in the evening, Fr. Jerzy was abducted by three secret service agents on the highway near Górsk, close to Toruń, and placed in the trunk of a Fiat 125. After being gagged and severely beaten, he was handed over—according to the findings of Dr. Milena Kindziuk and former Prosecutor Andrzej Witkowski—to officers of the Military Information Services.

He was subsequently taken to a prearranged torture site, a heavily guarded bunker on the grounds of a military unit in Kazuń Polski, not far from Warsaw. Subjected to severe physical and psychological torture, he lost consciousness several times from the pain. Praying for a quick death, he most likely died around noon on October 25, 1984, choking on his own blood. His horribly mutilated body was thrown into the Vistula River near the dam in Włocławek around midnight.

“After years of archival research, new documents, new witness testimonies, and new operational analyses have emerged, as well as independent opinions from three professors of forensic medicine from 2002, which indicate that Fr. Popiełuszko’s death occurred between Oct. 25 and 26, rather than on [Oct.] 19,” said Dr. Milena Kindziuk, a distinguished biographer of the Blessed Jerzy Popiełuszko and a lecturer at Warsaw’s Cardinal Stefan Wyszynski University.

His funeral, held on November 3rd, drew nearly a million mourners. At St. Stanislaus Kostka Church, the priest’s grave is shaped like a rosary, in tribute to the one sent to him by St. John Paul II. The Holy Father personally visited the site in June 1987, joining the more than twenty-three million pilgrims who have since come there to pay their respects.

“The humble figure of the priest has transcended geographical, cultural and generational boundaries. He has become the patron saint of Solidarity, of persecuted Christians, and of societies struggling against totalitarianism, consumerism and the chaos of values,” the bishops said.

Pope Benedict XVI formally recognized Fr. Popiełuszko’s martyrdom on December 19, 2009, paving the way for his beatification in June 2010.

There is a common misconception that a single person lacks the power to change the world. Yet the ministry of Fr. Jerzy Popiełuszko is a testament to the fact that a man who has consciously made a total sacrifice of himself to God can influence not only a handful of admirers, but millions. Faithfulness to the truth can be costly—it can even require the ultimate sacrifice.

Author’s Note: In Part 2 of this series, we will learn how these apparitions began and about the extraordinary occurrence in the visionary’s husband’s life.

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Catholic educators are now revisiting questions concerning the nature and purpose of education, as seen in the recently released Front Royal Statement. Perhaps among these questions should be whether the near-universal adoption of coeducational schooling has served the distinct educational needs of boys and girls as effectively as earlier Catholic models.

The decline of single-sex institutions has coincided with broader transformations in educational philosophy, many of which have subordinated moral and spiritual formation to the utilitarian concerns touted by progressive education. Consequently, the restoration of Catholic education requires examination of institutions that have maintained older pedagogical traditions.

Within the United States, few organizations have preserved these traditions as consistently as the Society of St. Pius X. While public discussion surrounding the Society frequently centers upon ecclesiastical controversies, its educational apostolate merits consideration in its own right. The Society presently operates twenty-seven primary and secondary schools and one college throughout the United States, constituting one of the largest networks of traditional Catholic education in the country.

The distinguishing characteristic of SSPX education is its rejection of the modern separation between religious and secular instruction. The Society’s educational standards insist that all studies be integrated with the knowledge and practice of the Faith. Education is understood not principally as vocational preparation but as the formation of the entire human person under the reign of Christ. Intellectual development, moral discipline, religious practice, and physical cultivation are treated as components of a unified educational enterprise. So too, the teacher’s vocation is seen as a participation in the Church’s mission of forming souls. The Society places considerable emphasis upon doctrinal formation, the liberal arts, and the philosophical tradition of St. Thomas Aquinas. Under the direction of superintendent Fr. Gerard Beck, all SSPX schools in the States are maintaining a type of continuity with educational principles that characterized Catholic schooling prior to the widespread reforms of the twentieth century.

One of the most noteworthy manifestations of this philosophy is the Society’s preservation of single-sex education. At a time when dedicated Catholic academies for boys and girls have become increasingly uncommon, the SSPX continues to maintain institutions explicitly ordered toward the distinct formation of each sex. The most complete examples are found in its dedicated girls’ schools. St. Dominic School in Post Falls, Idaho, and Holy Name of Jesus Academy in Massena, New York, provide kindergarten-through-twelfth-grade education exclusively for young women. Both schools are operated by the Dominican Teaching Sisters of Fanjeaux and offer academic, spiritual, and cultural formation within an environment intentionally structured for female students. These institutions preserve a model once common within Catholic education but now largely absent from the American educational landscape.

The Society has also retained extensive forms of educational separation within schools that are technically coeducational. St. Vincent de Paul Academy maintains separate campuses for older boys and girls. Assumption Academy in Kentucky organizes distinct upper-school divisions according to sex. Mater Dei Academy in New York separates students beginning in the seventh grade, while Saint Gregory the Great Academy in New Jersey maintains separate programs for young men and young women during the high school years.

These arrangements reflect an anthropological conviction that boys and girls, while equal in dignity, often benefit from distinct educational environments during adolescence. This approach stands in marked contrast to contemporary educational theories that minimize sexual distinction as a factor in pedagogy. This model instead presumes that differences between the sexes possess educational significance and therefore warrant institutional expression.

Even within the Society’s coeducational academies, this principle remains evident. Institutions such as Saint Mary’s Academy in Kansas, Our Lady of Sorrows Academy in Arizona, and Saint Thomas More Academy in Florida maintain expectations regarding conduct, modesty, discipline, and personal formation that reflect a traditional Catholic understanding of masculinity and femininity. The objective is not academic achievement but the cultivation of virtue according to the student’s state in life.

The significance of these institutions extends beyond the Society itself. They demonstrate that alternatives to prevailing educational models remain both viable and sustainable. At a moment when many Catholic educators have begun reconsidering the effects of coeducation, prolonged adolescence, and increasingly utilitarian curricula, the SSPX provides a noteworthy example of institutional continuity. Its schools have preserved forms of education that much of the Catholic world abandoned and which some now seek to recover.

The future of Catholic education will undoubtedly involve renewed reflection upon the relationship between intellectual formation, religious identity, and human flourishing. Such reflection should include careful consideration of those institutions that have maintained older educational principles not merely in theory but in practice. Whatever judgments may be rendered concerning the Society’s broader ecclesiastical position, its role in preserving traditional education in the United States constitutes a chapter in the history of contemporary Catholic schooling.

Photo by Barry Zhou on Unsplash

Many Catholic families have welcomed the Sacred Heart of Jesus into their homes through an enthronement ceremony. Others have participated in parish consecrations or renewed personal acts of devotion during the month of June. These are beautiful practices, but they naturally raise an important question: What comes next?

The danger of any consecration is that it can become a single event rather than a way of life. We place an image on the wall, pray the prescribed prayers, invite family and friends to witness the occasion, and then gradually return to business as usual. Yet the purpose of enthronement is not merely to honor an image of Christ. It is to acknowledge His kingship over our homes and to place our families under His loving rule.

An enthroned image of the Sacred Heart should therefore become a constant invitation to deeper conversion. Every time we pass it in the hallway, dining room, or living room, we should be reminded of the words of St. Paul: “The Son of God loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal. 2:20). The image serves not merely as decoration but as a visible reminder that Christ dwells among us and desires to reign in every aspect of family life.

Returning to the Heart of the Devotion

The Sacred Heart devotion is fundamentally about responding to Christ’s love with love of our own. The image of the Heart surrounded by thorns, aflame with charity, and surmounted by a cross reminds us that Our Lord’s love is not sentimental. It is sacrificial. He loved humanity unto death.

When Jesus revealed His Sacred Heart to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, He lamented the indifference and ingratitude that so many showed toward His love. The devotion that developed from those revelations was therefore intended as an act of reparation and gratitude. Catholics honor the Sacred Heart not because Christ needs our affection but because our souls need to learn how to love Him in return.

This is why families should see enthronement not as the completion of a devotion but as its beginning.

Recovering the First Fridays

One of the most important ways to continue the devotion is through the practice of the First Fridays. Many Catholics have heard of the devotion but know little about its purpose.

Traditionally, Catholics seek to attend Mass and receive Holy Communion on the first Friday of each month for nine consecutive months. The practice is often accompanied by regular confession and prayers of reparation for sins committed against the Sacred Heart.

The genius of the devotion is its simplicity. It draws Catholics back to the sacraments. Rather than adding endless new obligations, it encourages fidelity to the ordinary means of grace that Christ has already given His Church.

For families, First Fridays can become a recurring spiritual milestone. Parents may mark the dates on the family calendar, attend Mass together when possible, and teach their children why reparation matters. Even younger children can learn that love seeks to console the beloved and that Christians desire to console the Heart of Jesus by living holy lives.

Bringing the Sacred Heart to the Dinner Table

The home has always been called the domestic church. If Christ is truly enthroned there, His presence should shape family culture.

One simple way to foster this is by gathering before the Sacred Heart image for family prayer. Some families pray a decade of the Rosary. Others read the daily Gospel or offer a brief prayer of consecration. The specific practice matters less than consistency.

The image can also become a focal point during moments of difficulty. Family disagreements, financial stress, illness, and uncertainty all provide opportunities to gather before the Sacred Heart and entrust those concerns to Christ. In this way, children learn that prayer is not merely something done on Sundays but the ordinary response to life’s challenges.

Over time, the image ceases to be furniture and becomes a silent member of the household, constantly directing hearts toward God.

The Holy Hour Tradition

Another traditional practice associated with devotion to the Sacred Heart is the Holy Hour. Inspired by Christ’s words to His disciples in Gethsemane—”Could you not watch one hour with me?” (Mt. 26:40)—Catholics spend time in Eucharistic adoration in loving companionship with Our Lord.

Not every family can commit to a weekly Holy Hour. Work schedules, school activities, and the demands of raising children often make such commitments difficult. Nevertheless, families can adapt the spirit of the practice. A visit to the Blessed Sacrament before Mass, a monthly hour of adoration, or even a few moments of silent prayer before the tabernacle can help cultivate the habit of simply being with Christ.

The Sacred Heart devotion ultimately seeks intimacy with Jesus. The Holy Hour is one of the most direct ways of fostering that relationship.

A Devotion for an Age of Anxiety

There is perhaps no better time to embrace the Sacred Heart than the present age. Many families feel overwhelmed by cultural instability, economic uncertainty, and relentless distractions. Parents often wonder how to protect their children from influences that seem increasingly hostile to the Faith.

The Sacred Heart offers a profoundly Christian answer. Rather than beginning with fear, it begins with love. It reminds us that Christ has not abandoned His people, that His Heart still burns with charity for every soul, and that no home is beyond His care.

When families enthrone the Sacred Heart, they are making a bold declaration: this house belongs to Jesus Christ. Yet that declaration must be renewed daily through prayer, sacramental life, and trust in His providence.

The image on the wall is only the beginning. The true enthronement occurs when Christ reigns within the hearts of those who live beneath it.

Photo by THLT LCX on Unsplash

I was at the bank a few months ago, where I met an elderly couple who were parishioners in a local church. The man told me of his painful health experiences, while his wife listened with a worried look on her face. I could feel their pain and distress. I felt moved to pray for them, then and there, but instead I just offered to keep them in my prayers and walked away.

I could not find peace as I sat down waiting for my turn to be attended to. Why didn’t I pray for this hurting couple when I felt inspired to do so? I believe in the power of prayer to heal and to strengthen others. I also saw their need for prayer. Why didn’t I pray for them immediately?

The truth is that I acted in a cowardly way because I was afraid of what people would say or think if I stretched out my hands to pray over them in a crowded bank. Would the people in the bank commend me or condemn me? Would they see it as a sign of faith or an empty show? Would they be edified or put off? Would they smile or frown at me?

I begged God to forgive me for giving in to human respect. I prayed for courage and for the grace to be completely indifferent to whatever the people at the bank may think. I got up, went back to the couple, asked them to stand, and stretched my hand over them in prayer for their healing, hope, and strength. Then I went back to my seat with abiding peace.  

It is amazing how much our fear of what people may think or say about us can hinder us from being faithful to God’s inspirations. God is always inspiring us to do great things for His glory and for the good of our brothers and sisters. He is giving us the graces that we need. But sometimes we are reluctant to accept them because we are more concerned about what others may think or say about us.  

This is why Jesus, when sending out His disciples, commanded them from the very beginning, “Fear no one” (Mt. 10:28). If they fear anyone, all their energy will go into pleasing that person. They will do anything to be loved and accepted by the person. They will give in to the fear of offending the person and thus compromise on the demanding message of the Good News. They may even avoid the person altogether out of dread. Ultimately, they will become unfaithful to God and the Gospel. God’s inspiration and grace would be wasted.

On the other hand, Jesus asked His disciples to pay reverent attention to God and fear Him alone because He is the only one who can “destroy both soul and body in Gehenna” (Mt. 10:28). If they fear God alone, they will come to experience that powerful truth that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Prov. 9:10). There are so many virtues that come with this wisdom when we choose to fear God and not human beings. 

God speaks to us and to others through us, even in the darkest moments of our lives, as Matthew writes, “What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light” (Mt. 10:27). When we listen to His words with reverence and fear, we will strive to keep His word faithfully and proclaim it to others. When we have an appropriate fear of the God who can destroy both body and soul, we will cultivate a dread of sin and strive for holiness and all that would give God glory.

God is constantly focused on each of us, no matter what we are going through in life: “Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted” (Mt. 10:29-31). We have a strong hope when we also pay attention to our God who never ignores us in our needs and experiences.

When our hearts are fixed on God’s judgment on the last day and not on what people may think or say about us, we will strive to be faithful witnesses of Jesus Christ to the very end. We will rather die than deny Jesus or His saving truth before human beings because we want to have eternal life. We take the words of Jesus to heart: “Whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father” (Mt. 10:26-33). All these virtues and graces come from choosing to fear God and not human beings.

The prophet Jeremiah is a good example of choosing to fear God alone and not people. His courageous prophetic ministry gained him the hatred of many, including his close friends. He said, “Terror on every side. Denounce! Let us denounce him! All those who were my friends are on the watch for any misstep of mine. Perhaps he can be tricked; then we will prevail and take our vengeance on him” (Jer. 20:10).

Jeremiah does not focus on their treachery, threats, and evil designs for him. He chose rather to pay attention to God’s loving presence and faithfulness to him, saying, “But the Lord is with me, like a mighty champion; my persecutors will stumble, they will not triumph” (Jer. 20:10-11). He became a faithful prophet of God because of his fear of God.

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, where is our focus and attention today? Are we focused on what people think or say about us and what we believe, or are we focused on God’s abiding presence with us, what He sees in our hearts, the graces that He is giving to us, and the truth that He is communicating to us at each moment for the salvation of souls and His glory? Are we more interested in what people think or say, or in what God actually sees in our hearts and deeds?

Sadly, many people within and outside the Church do not fear God at all, but they are petrified of what people are going to think or say about them. This may explain why our Church is so obsessed with words like dialogue, human dignity, synodality, listening sessions, and accompaniment, while having no problem with offending God and His sovereignty over all.

Our Church now willingly dialogues with and panders to environmental, globalist, immigration, and LGBT activists. But there is no true fear of God; the faithful are denied access to the traditional Latin Mass, the faithful are scandalized through public worship offered to Pachamama statues, and non-liturgical blessings are offered to people in homosexual relationships. That wisdom that comes from fearing God alone is obviously dead in our Church today.

The world does not care about what we think or believe anymore. The world does not give a hoot about what we think about it and its values. A case in point is the recent Bill C-9 in Canada. This bill could criminalize quoting parts of scripture that speak of the evil of homosexuality. It is very ironic that those who do not believe in the Bible as the word of God are telling those who do believe in the Bible which parts they are allowed to quote in public.

How bold the world has become today, and how cowardly we believers have become. The world is now telling us when and how to spread the Gospel. Yet, those of us who call ourselves disciples of Jesus are trying to dialogue with the world, listen to it, accommodate it, and try to find common ground. This is what Jesus lamented about when He said, “For the sons of this world are wiser in their own generation than the sons of light” (Lk. 16:8).

If we are going to be faithful to Jesus and His Gospel in our aggressively secular world, we must cultivate a fear of God alone and reject any fear of what people may think or say about us. Nothing destroys our fidelity to Jesus and His saving mission like this unbridled human respect.

Some pointers to keep in mind and heart if we are going to fear God alone:

1. God Alone is Judge

Firstly, it is God who will judge us on the last day, and He will surely not depend on the opinions of others. The opinions and thoughts of others will count for nothing when we stand before God on judgment day. We will be judged based on the word of God and not on the opinions of the majority.

He who rejects me and does not receive my sayings has a judge; the word that I have spoken will be his judge on the last day. (Jn. 12:48)

2. God is Always Faithful, Others Are Not

Secondly, God is always faithful. His words and promises to us will surely come to pass: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away” (Mt. 12:35). Human opinions, no matter how popular or passionately they are held, cannot endure forever. We will do well to believe and act only on the word of God, no matter the prevailing public opinions inside and outside the Church.

On the other hand, people are not always faithful to us. Those who praise and accept us today will condemn and reject us when we fail to meet their expectations or when we are no longer useful to their worldly cause. Judas Iscariot learned this lesson the hard way. Those who praised him and gave him money to betray Jesus turned on him after his betrayal and flippantly dismissed him when he remorsefully confessed that he had shed innocent blood. They replied to him, “What is that to us? See to it yourself” (Mt. 27:4). This is what the wicked world will do to those of us who pay attention to what others think or say about us but are devoid of any fear of God.

3. People Will Judge and Accuse

Thirdly, whether we do good or evil, people will always talk. If they can find something to falsely accuse Jesus of, then they will surely find many negative things to say about us falsely. So, let us do what God is inspiring us to do and let people talk all they want. Remember that this false accusation we receive when we do good is a source of enduring blessing for us: “Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad for your reward is great in heaven” (Mt. 5:11-12).

4. God Provides All the Graces We Need

Lastly, God has given us all the blessings that we need to be faithful to Him and His mission. Jesus offers us His very self in each Eucharist so that we can be faithful to Him in every place and time. We are gifted for fidelity to Jesus. We are not gifted to win the acceptance and praise of others. Jesus reminded us of this when He said, “You will be hated by all for my name’s sake. But he who endures to the end will be saved” (Mt. 10:22).

Let us beg God to deliver us from all fear of human beings and give us the grace to cultivate a deep fear of God alone. This is the only way that we can experience that divine wisdom and grace for our fidelity to God and His inspirations in every time and place.    

Glory to Jesus!!! Honor to Mary!!!

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Recently I (Vic) was in the confessional, following a particularly difficult time for one of our loved ones. I confessed that Judy and I had fasted and prayed for them, but that I didn’t think God was listening.

The confessor assigned me the penance of finding and praying the Litany of Trust, and within a few minutes of arriving home, I found it on The Sisters of Life website.

When I prayed the Litany for the first time that evening, two verses spoke to me: “That You always hear me and in Your goodness always respond to me.” Jesus, I trust in You. The next verse was “That Your plan is better than anything else.”

These verses pointed out my sin. I realized I was putting handcuffs on God, seeking to impose my plan and timeline on Him. These prayers led me away from my sin into a new and deeper trust that God hears our prayers and will take care of our loved one.

A great weight fell off my shoulders.

A Brief History of The Litany of Trust

The Litany of Trust was composed by Sr. Faustina Maria Pia Bianche, S.V. and has its origins in St. Faustina’s diary. Sr. Faustina Maria, named for St. Faustina at birth, wrote that while “looking at the crucifix in my room one Friday afternoon…I had an experience that is hard to capture in words. It was as though Jesus were gently lifting my chin to look at Him. It was as if He were saying, ‘I don’t want you to give your ‘yes’ to a set of circumstances, but to Me’” (Jesus I Trust in You, pp. 1-2). It was then that she began penning the Litany of Trust.

Applying The Litany of Trust to Your Own Life

While it is easy to say the words “Jesus, I trust in You,” it’s not always easy to truly embrace that trust in Jesus. In these times of worry, we can find guidance and peace in a particular verse of the Litany: “That you will teach me to trust You.” Jesus, I trust in You. Just saying the words is a great place to start. But alongside this prayer, we’ve discovered active ways to cultivate this trust in our lives.

First, we must catch ourselves when doubt starts creeping into our minds, as it too often does. Doubt causes you to feel as though God isn’t present and that things are hopeless. In these moments, call on the Holy Spirit and invite our Blessed Mother to pray the Litany of Trust with you to help you through this time of doubt.

Next, recall a moment when Jesus was acting in your life. Perhaps you didn’t realize it at the time, or it seemed like He wasn’t listening, but now you can see His hand at work. Jesus often doesn’t give you what you ask for when you ask for it; instead, He gives you something much better than you could ever imagine. Being open to His way allows Him to impact your life, which then increases your trust in Him. “That Your plan is better than anything else.” Jesus, I trust in You.

The Litany of Trust At Work in Our Lives

I (Judy) have learned that lesson many times. The first time was early in our marriage when Vic was about to be discharged from the Army and was looking for a job. I prayed and prayed to move closer to our families, but Jesus seemed not to be paying attention to my pleas.

Vic received two job offers. One was at an army ammunition plant close to our families, and the other was in a different state more than eight hours away from our families. Selfishly, I wanted him to accept the job that was close by. Then I finally let go, stopped trying to put handcuffs on Jesus, and accepted His Will.

God guided Vic to take the job eight hours away. A few months later, the laboratory where Vic would have been working was destroyed in an explosion, and the man who had taken the job was seriously injured. Jesus, I trust in you. Fortunately, the job Vic ended up taking led him on a path to a very rewarding career.

We’ve also found that just praying the words “Jesus, I trust in You” whenever we have concerns throughout our day helps to keep His promises in our minds and allows us to let go and trust Him. And with this trust comes peace, which floods our hearts and minds like nothing else ever could!

Growing in Trust

I (Vic) pray the entire Litany of Trust every day, and I always find that one or more verses speak to my current situation directly. Here are some recent examples:

• On a day when I perceived I had been treated unjustly, the verse “That you give me the grace to accept forgiveness and to forgive others” stopped me in my tracks. At that moment I knew that I must forgive and pray for the one whose perceived unjust offense had been bothering me. Jesus, I trust in You.
  
  
• While I was patting myself on the back for some achievement I had accomplished, the verse “From the false security that I have what it takes” brought me to the realization that it was God who gave me the wisdom and strength I needed and that it was God who was responsible for “my” achievement. Jesus, I trust in You.
  
  
• When I feel remorse for a sin I have committed, the verse “That your love goes deeper than my sins and failings and transforms me” provides comfort. Jesus, I trust in You.
  
  
• When I struggle with the nearly constant pain of a medical issue, “That You are with me in my suffering” and “That my suffering, united to Your own, will bear fruit in this life and the next” prompted me to offer my suffering for the benefit of the souls in purgatory. I can forget the pain and focus on my relationship with God and what He has asked me to do today. Jesus, I trust in you.
  
  
• When faced with a call from God to do something I feel inadequate to do, the verse “That You give me all the strength I need for what is asked” removes the barriers that prevent me from answering God’s call. I remind myself as often as needed that whatever challenge I face, He’s got this, and that He loves me with His perfect love and will always have what’s best for me in His mind, even when His way differs from my preference. “That Your plan is better than anything else.” Jesus, I trust in You.

Build your trust in Jesus by focusing on each verse as you pray the Litany and seeking the meaning in that verse for your present situation. Catch yourself when you first start feeling that Jesus isn’t there. Remind yourself of all your past experiences in which Jesus has acted in your life. Don’t put handcuffs on Him. Remember that He loves you with His perfect love, which is so much more complete and powerful than your own. With trust comes peace. Jesus has got this if you just allow Him to take the reins.

Photo by Zac Durant on Unsplash

Care for the environment represents a challenge for all of humanity. It is a matter of a common and universal duty, that of respecting a common good, destined for all, by preventing anyone from using “with impunity the different categories of beings, whether living or inanimate—animals, plants, the natural elements—simply as one wishes, according to one’s own economic needs.” (Compendium of the Social Doctrine of The Church, 466)

This is what the Church’s Social Doctrine states regarding the protection of the environment.

We can imagine the spheres of human social relations, as discussed in the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, as if they were concentric circles: at the center is the human person, and then, gradually expanding outward, there is the family, then work, society, the international community, and finally the environment that surrounds every human being. This concerns humanity’s responsibility in its relationships—we might say—with regard to space, but there is also a dimension that extends into the future, concerning future generations.

Responsibility for the environment, the common heritage of mankind, extends not only to present needs but also to those of the future. “We have inherited from past generations, and we have benefited from the work of our contemporaries: for this reason we have obligations towards all, and we cannot refuse to interest ourselves in those who will come after us, to enlarge the human family.” This is a responsibility that present generations have towards those of the future, a responsibility that also concerns individual States and the international community. (Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 467)

Our responsibility toward future generations in safeguarding creation also extends to the way we produce, use, and dispose of electronic equipment. Every decision we make regarding digital devices—from purchase to repair to recycling—contributes to the environmental impact we leave for those who come after us.

Energy Footprint of Devices: Smartphones, Televisions, Laptops

It is estimated that about 80% of households have at least one PC at home, 90% have a smartphone, and the number of digital devices is constantly growing.

The main stages of a device’s production cycle and lifecycle can be summarized as follows: the extraction of rare materials, production, transportation, use, and disposal. Each of these stages has an environmental impact in terms of sustainability, the availability of rare minerals, CO2 emissions, energy consumption, and the production and disposal of hazardous waste.

The use of digital devices has a significantly lower environmental impact compared to the stages related to production, transportation, and disposal. Therefore, it is strategically more effective to focus on this aspect—namely, avoiding frequent replacement of cell phones unless necessary.

The European Union has begun to take measures to combat planned obsolescence through various directives, such as requiring durability and recyclability (the Ecodesign Directive) or ensuring greater and more accessible repair options (the Right to Repair Directive).

What Is Planned Obsolescence?

Planned obsolescence is a production strategy employed by companies that decide to give a product a limited lifespan, with the aim of profiting from higher sales volumes. To achieve this in the world of digital devices, various tactics are used: updates that slow down devices, new applications that are incompatible with older hardware, and poor repairability. These policies implemented by manufacturers accelerate the cycle of replacement and new purchases.

Discarded devices contribute to the growing volume of electronic waste (e-waste or WEEE, Waste Electrical and Electronic Equipment)—including computers, phones, and household appliances—one of the fastest-growing waste streams, which requires special disposal. Inside them are toxic materials such as lead and mercury, which are harmful to the environment and human health, but also valuable raw materials (copper, gold) that can be recovered through recycling.

In fact, recovering valuable materials from discarded devices could be a way to promote sustainability. In the Dutch city of Breda, they have entrusted this task to a robot named Daisy. It was built to extract valuable materials from discarded smartphones. It is interesting to note that it is capable of recovering, from one metric ton of printed circuit boards, flexible electronics, and camera modules, the same amount of gold and copper that would otherwise have to be extracted from 2,000 metric tons of rock.

In 2022, 62 million metric tons of electronic waste were generated. The amount of electronic waste generated is increasing by 2.3 million metric tons per year. Data for 2022 show that less than 25% of the total is collected and recycled.

Temperance in the Digital Age

When it comes to smartphones, 83% of their environmental impact stems not from their use but from the production and disposal processes.

It is estimated that a cell phone is replaced, on average, every 2–3 years. This replacement rate creates a significant environmental impact that could be mitigated if the replacement of smartphones were delayed, even by just a few years.

From a Christian perspective, choosing to extend the lifespan of our digital devices is not merely an environmental decision but also an expression of stewardship of creation and the virtue of temperance. As emphasized in Laudato si’, “On Care for our Common Home,” responsible consumption and the prudent use of technology are part of our commitment to the common good and to solidarity with future generations, who have the right to inherit a world in which natural resources are not squandered through unnecessary waste.

Before replacing your smartphone, it’s worth asking yourself whether the replacement is truly necessary. Whenever possible, extending the device’s lifespan through repair, upgrades, or simply more mindful use would represent a concrete contribution to environmental responsibility.

Photo by Shawn Rain on Unsplash

The liturgical celebration of Saints Peter and Paul on June 29 is of great significance to Catholics throughout the world as well as to those of us here in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, where our cathedral bears their names. These two followers of Jesus are often spoken of together, just as their liturgical celebration takes place jointly. Concerning this joint celebration, St. Augustine said:

One day is assigned for the celebration of the martyrdom of the two Apostles. But those two were one. Although their martyrdom occurred on different days, they were one. Peter went first, Paul followed. We celebrate this feast day which is made sacred for us by the blood of these Apostles. (Sermon 295, 7, 8)

“Sent Forth”

The very word “mission,” which we have used in the title in connection with these men, helps to explain their function in the divine plan. “Mission” comes from a Latin word which means “to send” or “sent.” Since Jesus wanted His work on earth to continue until the end of time, He founded a Church, which He would continue to guide through the presence of the Holy Spirit. He also chose individuals, who along with their successors would cooperate in His saving mission and share in His authority. These individuals were sent forth to preach and teach in the name of Jesus. Although they, as human beings, would die, their mission would not die.

This is why it is very important that we do not merely see the Church as an institution or a bureaucracy but as a living instrument in the world, called to transmit the message of Jesus. As an organized society, there will always be a need for leaders, according to God’s plan, and there will always be a certain structure in order to organize the works of the Church. However, her primary mission is to teach in the name of Jesus, transmit the grace of the sacraments, and carry on works of charity in His name.

Beginning with the Apostles, we see the Church living out her mission in the present. Many religious congregations, especially those that do missionary work, have ceremonies of commissioning, in which they send forth their members to bring the message of Jesus, following the command of Jesus, who commissioned and sent the first missionaries. When I have the privilege of ordaining new priests, I know that I am continuing the work of the Apostles as I send forth the latest in a long line of those who will preach and teach the Faith and transmit the graces of the sacraments.

Special Role of Peter and Paul

We know that Jesus sent forth all twelve of His Apostles. In fact, the true Church of Christ is present only where there is an unbroken succession and identification with the spirit of the Apostles. However, among all the apostles, Peter and Paul have always occupied a special place in the life and liturgy of the Church.

Peter professed his faith in Christ first; Paul obtained as a gift the ability to deepen its riches. Peter founded the first community of Christians, who came from the Chosen People; Paul became the Apostle to the Gentiles. With different charisms they worked for one and the same cause: the building of Christ’s Church. (Pope Benedict XVI, Homily, Celebration of First Vespers of Solemnity of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, 28 June 2007)

St. Leo the Great (440‑461) speaks of the fact that they are always considered and honored as a unit. He wrote: “About their merits and virtues, which surpass all power of speech, we must not make distinctions, because they were equal in their election, alike in their toils, undivided in their death” (In natali apostolorum, 69).

Of all the places throughout the world where Peter and Paul are honored, they receive the greatest veneration in the City of Rome. An ancient Christian tradition claims that their last meeting before their martyrdom took place near the site of the present St. Peter’s Basilica. It is said that they greeted and blessed each other before going to their respective deaths for the Faith and for preaching the Gospel according to the command of Jesus. When this Solemnity of Peter and Paul is celebrated in Rome, it does not have the characteristic of a historical recollection or mere celebration of the past but the celebration of a living reality. You may have seen photographs of the famous bronze statue of St. Peter in the Basilica, which has a foot worn down by being kissed in veneration by the faithful. This statue is vested on June 29, complete with Papal cope and tiara, to indicate our belief that although Peter was put to death on this very spot two thousand years ago, the office of Peter lives in his successor.

There is another ceremony which takes place on this day which reminds us of the living mission of the Church, which will be fulfilled until the end of time. Several years ago, I wrote about the pallium in this column. The pallium is a wide band made from the wool of lambs blessed on the feast of St. Agnes. These pallia are placed under the main Altar of St. Peter’s, at the place believed to be the actual burial site of St. Peter. On or near June 29, the pope bestows them upon all those who have been named archbishops in the previous year because the pallium is the sign of the jurisdiction of an archbishop. I have had the privilege of receiving the pallium twice: once after becoming the Archbishop of St. Louis and then again when I became the Archbishop of Philadelphia. This ceremony is a wonderful sign of the continuity of the mission of the apostles, as the archbishops go throughout the world to preach, teach and sanctify in the name of Jesus.

Our Cathedral Basilica

Saints Peter and Paul also have a special significance for us here in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia because our cathedral bears their names. It is wonderful to note that here in what was referred to as the “New World,” the Gospel was planted in union with Peter and Paul. Eighteen‑hundred years after their martyrdom, the principal church of what would become the Archdiocese of Philadelphia was given the names of those who first went forth to preach the Gospel in obedience to Jesus’ command.

You may know that the word cathedral comes from the Latin word cathedra, meaning chair. This is because the principal church of a diocese contains the Chair of the Bishop of that diocese. It reminds us that from the bishop, a successor of the Apostles appointed by the successor of St. Peter, others are sent to aid him in the preaching of the Gospel.

A reminder of this fact may be found in the Holy Oils that are used in the administration of certain sacraments. There are three different kinds, and they are blessed by the bishop of a diocese, usually on Holy Thursday morning. Then they are distributed to all the parishes of the diocese to be used throughout the year. In this way, I can be spiritually present to all of you as the priests and deacons who assist me in my mission bring the sacraments to you.

Among the many beautiful works of art in our cathedral are two fine mosaics placed on the wall behind the main altar. One depicts an image of St. Peter and the other of St. Paul. Behind the image of St. Peter, we see St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, and behind the image of St. Paul, the image of the Roman Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls is found. What a marvelous reminder that we share in the Faith preached by Peter and Paul! Not only has Rome been sanctified by their preaching and martyrdom, but the Faith they preached has also been preached to us.

I hope that we can all use our celebration of the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul as a way to give thanks for the gift of the Faith entrusted to Peter and Paul and handed on to us.

Image from Wikimedia Commons

“Have I ever witnessed a miracle?” is a worthwhile question in our Western culture dominated by rationalism, materialism, and scientism, as many skeptics and agnostics—and even some Christians—believe miracles impossible.

A miracle, according to Merriam-Webster, is “an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs.” The Catechism of the Catholic Church provides a bit more texture in its definition: “A sign or wonder, such as a healing or the control of nature, which can only be attributed to a divine power.” These definitions show us it is possible to cultivate our minds and hearts in a way that the obvious answer becomes a resounding “Yes!” Miracles do occur, and we can know them.

The first step in training our minds and hearts is to examine the biblical record, which is replete with miracles, in both the Old and New Testaments.

Old Testament Miracles

A non-exhaustive list from the Old Testament includes Sarah’s conception of Isaac by Abraham when she was past child-bearing age (Gen. 18:9-15; 21:1-7); the flaming bush on Mount Sinai that was not consumed (Ex. 3:1-2); the Israelites crossing the Red Sea dry-shod (Ex. 14:21-22); the provision of manna from the sky (Ex. 16) and—even more astounding—water springing forth from a rock (Ex. 17); the flow of the Jordan River ceased so Israel could cross into the Promised Land (Josh. 3:15-17); the collapse of Jericho’s walls (Josh. 6); the sun standing still for a whole day (Josh. 10:13-14); the defeat of a well-trained soldier by a young boy with only a stone (1 Sam. 17); Elijah bringing back to life the son of the widow of Zarephath (I Kg. 17:8ff); Elijah’s defeat of the prophets of Baal (1 Kg. 18:20-40). The manifestation of divine power and control over nature is on full display.

Gospel Miracles

The catalogue of miracles is lengthened by the Gospel narratives, which identify Jesus as the fulfillment of the miracles in the Old Testament. The crucial miracle is the Incarnation. “The Grand Miracle,” as C.S. Lewis refers to it in his book, Miracles, is the pivotal moment in salvation history when Jesus, who was “in the form of God,” “emptied himself” and was “born in the likeness of men” (Phil. 2:5-11). This event is certainly a divine intervention in human affairs, a wonderful sign that only God could do to bring healing to humanity. “Every other miracle,” Lewis writes, “prepares for this, or exhibits this, or results from this.”

Even before the Incarnation, St. Luke tells of the miracle of John the Baptist’s conception in the womb of Elizabeth, who was thought to be barren and past child-bearing age (Lk. 1:5-25). That miracle pointed directly toward the conception of the God-Man in the womb of a virgin in Nazareth (Lk. 1:26-38).

Jesus exercises control of nature by turning water to wine, and by walking on water and calming storms. Miraculous healings of blind persons, lepers, and invalids occur throughout all four Gospel accounts. There are multiple feeding miracles, in which Jesus supplies food for large crowds, exhibiting God’s desire to feed the bodies and souls of all people through His Divine Son.

Jesus raised multiple persons from the dead (Lk. 7:11-17; Jn. 11:38-44), which ultimately pointed to the miracle for which He came, His Resurrection. All these miracles exhibit God’s control over nature and, more importantly, His condescension to humans—that is, His climbing down to be with them, to relieve their suffering, and to bring them to eternal life.

The Miracles of Jesus’ Followers

The miracles do not cease with Jesus, though. During the Last Supper, Jesus promises the Apostles, “…whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do… Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do… If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it” (Jn. 14:12-14). At the end of his Gospel account, St. Mark records Our Lord predicting specific miracles that will be performed by His followers, such as casting out demons, speaking in new tongues, healing sick persons, and being spared the effects of poison (cf. Mk. 16:17-18).

The promise is clear: followers of Jesus will have the ability to manifest divine power in extraordinary ways because of their relationship with Him. Lewis names these the “Miracles of the New Creation” because they are performed by those who have access to the Christian grace and the resurrected life.

The catalogue continues in the Acts of the Apostles, beginning at the Jewish feast of Pentecost. There we witness the Apostles communicating in languages they have never known before (Acts 2:5-6). Soon after, we read of the healing of a lame beggar, which recapitulates several details of Jesus’ healings (Acts. 3:1-10). Many “sick and those afflicted with unclean spirits” are healed by Peter’s shadow as he walked by (Acts 5:12-16). Immediately following those miracles, “an angel of the Lord opened the prison doors [where they were being held] and brought them out…” (Acts 5:17-19). These miracles were not possible because the Apostles exercised their own control over nature, but because Jesus had bestowed the power of the Holy Spirit in which the Apostles were participating. Thus, apostles extend the Lord’s ministry through time and space.

Because of the biblical pattern, we can know that the miraculous work of Jesus extends down through the centuries, even to us. In the early-third century, Origen preached a series of homilies on the Book of Joshua, commenting on the Israelites’ crossing the Jordan River into the Promised Land. “And do not imagine,” he said, “that these deeds are only in former times and nothing so great as this is brought forth in you who are now the hearer of them.” Origen means that we will continue to witness miracles throughout the unfolding of history, specifically because Jesus is at work through His Church, empowering disciples by the movement of the Holy Spirit and the grace of the sacraments.

Training Ourselves to See Miracles

Therefore, if our spirits are trained to see them, we ought to expect to witness miracles. Such training happens by two specific means. First, we ought to pray for miracles, because we believe in an omnipotent God—a God who has power over nature for whom nothing is impossible (see Lk. 1:37). This should be all the clearer to us as Jesus teaches, “Ask, and it will be given to you…” (Lk. 11:9). Yet, at the same time, we must trust that God, in His omniscience, knows better than we what will bring us to perfection.

Beyond asking for miracles, we must train our spirits in gratitude. Without this foundational virtue, we cannot recognize any of the miracles God wants to work in our lives or the lives of others. Here are some easy steps to build a habit of gratitude:

• Spend a few minutes each day cataloguing graces and blessings, even the most basic things.
• Learn to pray the examen prayer, which begins with a disposition of gratitude.
• Use these two prayers regularly, not just before or after meals:
  
  “Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord. Amen.”
  
  “We give you thanks, Almighty God, for these and all thy benefits that we have received from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord. Amen.”

Ultimately, reviewing God’s miraculous works in history and cultivating gratitude daily are the first steps towards witnessing the miracles God can and will do for us and through us.

Image from Wikimedia Commons

This two-part article discusses how Christianity became a dominant force upon its emergence through the combined effects of imperial patronage, missionary endeavors, and ritual appropriation. Archaeological evidence and contemporaneous texts reveal that the aforementioned strategies were instrumental in preserving familiar sites and social functions of worship while minimizing their significance to Christian theology and ecclesiastical authority.

Expanding on this assertion, this article highlights the exact mechanisms through which Christianity achieved lasting dominance in Late Antiquity and the Early Medieval Period. In particular, I argue that two interconnected cultural mechanisms played pivotal roles in Christianity’s rise and enduring dominance:

1. The physical transformation of sacred pagan architecture through reappropriation, the incorporation of liturgical elements, and the reuse of cult sites for Christian worship.
2. The symbolic translation of pagan iconography and ritual practices into the sanctioned veneration of Jesus Christ, Virgin Mary, and the saints.

Notably, these processes preserved the social importance and emotional impact of sacred places while reinterpreting their meanings under official ecclesiastical recognition (Augustine, 2003; Ehrman, 2018).

Here, I look at three examples: the Ephesus, the Parthenon in Athens, and the Rotunda of Galerius in Thessaloniki, all of which illustrate the range of adaptive practices used from negotiated reuse to authoritative appropriation. In Christian Conversion: The Spiritual Transformation of Eastern Pagan Structures in Late Antiquity, Fallone (2013) argues that these three structures exemplify the significance of the abovementioned conversions.  

Using archaeological and architectural data with contemporaneous literary sources (passages from the New Testament, episcopal sermons, and canonical legislation), this article looks into the dynamics of conversion at the intersection of material practice and official discourse. Exploring these sites relies on material records and textual documentation, as well as comparative peripheral examples (Scandinavia and Iberia) to illustrate variations in strategies, including coercive destruction to negotiated appropriation. Archaeological syntheses and specific excavation reports provide the main material evidence, while sermons, hagiography, and legal texts offer the contemporary interpretive framework.

The Architectural Conversion and Reappropriation of Sacred Spaces

The existing environment of that time frequently served as a platform for proclaiming Christian supremacy. Conversion strategies came in many forms: temples were rededicated as churches, cult images were either removed or reinterpreted as relics, chapels or altars were inserted into pre-existing structures, and formerly ritualized areas were restructured to accommodate only Christian liturgy. Archaeological stratigraphy and architectural analysis document these interventions, and textual sources confirm current episcopal policies that prohibited pagan cults and promoted rededication (Fallone, 2013; Kaldellis, 2009; Krautheimer, 1986). These material and literary sources directed communal religious practices into Christian institutions without eradicating previous forms of devotion.

Ephesus: Reuse and Reappropriation

During Late Antiquity, Ephesus underwent structural modifications, the integration of altars and chapels, and changes in the contexts of cult statues, consistent with the Christian presence and ongoing popular devotional practices (Fallone, 2013). These correspond with textual evidence. For instance, the Acts of the Apostles describes public renunciations and the burning of magical books after conversions (Acts 19:18–20), while later ecclesiastical sources recount episcopal efforts to suppress pagan rites and sanctify popular healing practices associated with martyrs (Beard et al., 1998; Fallone, 2013). Ephesus is a good example of negotiated reuse in which physical transformation aimed to accommodate Christian liturgy while preserving sites of popular devotion.

Parthenon of Athens: A Civic Monument Transformed into a Marian Church

The conversion of the Parthenon into a church dedicated to Theotokos required internal revisions for liturgical purposes, including the introduction of an apse, the repression of cultic entrances, and the removal or relocation of religious imagery. These changes reflect Church and civic policies that limited public sacrifices and promoted the rededication of prominent urban sites (Beard et al., 1998; Kaldellis, 2009).

These architectural modifications reveal how an urban landmark’s communal identity was preserved while being redirected toward Christian liturgical calendars and episcopal authority. Therefore, this case demonstrates the political and devotional implications of such changes.

Rotunda of Galerius (Thessaloniki): Adaptive Reuse of an Imperial Monument

Taking off from this article’s earlier assertion that the physical transformation of sacred pagan sites further embedded Christianity into religious and civic life, the Rotunda’s conversion is another example of adaptive reuse authorized by imperial and ecclesiastical influences. The architectural and mosaic phases reveal the incorporation of Christian liturgical fittings and imagery, as well as the preservation of significant elements of the original monumental structure; these features indicate reuse rather than complete removal (Krautheimer, 1986; Fallone, 2013). The Rotunda exemplifies a top-down model in which imperial policy enabled Christian appropriation, and local agents converted an elite monument into an active Christian space while preserving architectural memory.

Comparative Notes: Scandinavia and Iberia

Two specific peripheral cases show a spectrum of strategies used. First, Norse conversions led by Olaf Tryggvason and Olaf Haraldsson involved the destruction of temples and idols, signaling a complete break in some contexts (“Saga of Olaf Tryggvason”). In post-Reconquista Iberia, major mosques and their furnishings were transformed into Christian spaces—a practice that merged practical reuse with symbolic appropriation (Glick, 1979). These examples indicate that, depending on the local political and demographic situations, conversion occurred at two ends of the spectrum: it is either forcefully coerced or passively negotiated.

Transformation of Imagery into Representations of Saints and Devotion to the Virgin Mary

In fact, pre-Christian practices, such as seeking healing at springs, visiting trees or stones, and leaving votive offerings, continued after formal conversion, as evidenced by material culture and clerical grievances (Caesarius of Arles, 1956; Fallone, 2013). Episcopal responses typically combined prohibition with appropriation; for example, chapels were built at former pagan worship locations and feast days and processions were instituted. With these strategies, devotional energies were redirected toward Church-sanctioned intermediaries, while simultaneously preserving the social functions and affective dynamics of traditional paganistic practices.

More importantly, religious transformation became possible through the visual and narrative translation of pagan idols. Specifically, qualities, attributes, and distinct compositional styles from pagan iconography were adapted to represent Christ, the Virgin, and/or particular saints. Furthermore, mythological themes were incorporated into hagiography and regional saint traditions, and the integration of the roles of saints previously attributed to pagan idols, such as healing, protection, and fertility, into ecclesiastical structures led to the persistence of popular devotion under Church-sanctioned conditions (Ehrman, 2018; Holland, 2019). This symbolic continuity allowed cultural memory to survive doctrinal shifts.

Nevertheless, this overall pattern of transformation does not mean the total disappearance of paganistic practices. Although the dominant existence of state backing polytheistic cults, with their statues and sacrificial rituals, declined sharply under Christian rule, patterns of seeking divine power through material objects, special places, and rituals often persisted, albeit in modified forms. Such persistent patterns led to the transformation of pagan imagery into symbols and saints.

In conclusion, Christianity achieved lasting cultural dominance through the two complementary strategies involving the architectural conversion of pagan sacred sites into Christian places of worship and the selective adaptation of pagan imagery and religious practices into the veneration of Christ, the Virgin Mary, and the saints. The reuse and conversion of sacred spaces demonstrated how temples are converted into churches or stripped of cult statues—ongoing acts interpreted as a symbolic victory in how Christian worship replaced idol worship in these locations. Upon the conversion of these sites, people continued to seek healing or protection at the same locations, but now under Christian patrons, such as saints and the Virgin Mary.

Ultimately, conversion was facilitated through selective continuity and suppression, simultaneously preserving sites and distinct roles that addressed civic needs while redefining their meanings within the framework of Christian doctrine.

Photo by Jeffrey Zhang on Unsplash