Don't Let These Words Fly By You














Just before we sing the, "Holy, Holy, Holy," at Mass, the priest says: 

"Therefore, with all the choirs of angels and all the saints..."

He's not kidding; they're all there - all of them. Every saint in every glass window, every angel stenciled on the ceiling, every saint carved in cement, every holy man, woman, and child who has ever lived on earth and now lives in glory, are all there, praying for you and those you love.

How To Unlock Joy
















What brings us joy in life is complete self-giving. 

It can be painful, too, but you can't have real joy without self-giving.

That's the great paradox of the cross, after all.

We find ourselves when we lose ourselves in service for one another.

Start at home, then go from there.

The Next Time You Sit Down To Eat

The next time you sit down to eat, slowly, reverently, intentionally, make the sign of the cross and thank God for your food.

Slowly...

Reverently...

Intentionally...

Thank God for your food.

What Would Your Parish Look Like If...



Despite the way my office usually looks, I’m something of a perfectionist. It’s not that I always see the glass half-empty, just that I think about what might make the glass and whatever else is in it a little bit better. I know that it drives some of my friends nuts, but when I sit in the pew on Sunday morning I’m not judging how bad things are (actually my parish is really good); rather, I’m imagining – imagining what more it could be.


Many days throughout the year I spend in different parishes around the country giving what’s called a Parish Mission. And often I challenge the hard working faithful on the last evening with the same commission I am challenged with by those who love me.


What would your parish look like if being a parishioner at Saint So-And-So's actually meant something, really meant something, so that your friends and neighbors who know nothing of the faith know that what it means to be a member of your parish is to be a Catholic who takes their faith very seriously? What would it be like if every one of us really treated the patron saint of our parish as our own special model and guide, if we prayed for their intercession before any major parish activity, and if we strove to imitate their strongest virtues and taught our children to do the same. What would your parish look like if everyone in your parish was so proud to be a part of it that they would beg as many of their friends and family as they possibly could to give it a try, even for just one week.


Imagine the ushers after Sunday Mass not just simply smiling while handing you the bulletin to place in the backseat of your car, but calling you by name and asking how your week was. Imagine a Mass where everyone sings, whatever the style and however good – or bad – the organist or other musicians are. Imagine a homily so good that you find yourself still talking about it Wednesday evening. Imagine your parishes intentions being intentional, and your concern for your neighbor so real that you find yourself praying for them at your family dinners.


Imagine a parish where at communion time everyone approached slowly and reverently, and received the Eucharist as though it were the most important thing they did all week. Imagine if every time a baby cried your first instinct and that of those around you was to give thanks to God for the gift of the baby, and not to wonder why the parents haven’t taken her to the back, yet. Imagine your parish full fifteen minutes before Mass prayerfully preparing for the true presence of Jesus to enter into their souls, and where people stay five minutes after to give thanks to God for the Gift they have received.

What would your parish look like if every day were like a Sunday? What if daily Mass were more than a few people and the schoolchildren showing up once a week? Can you imagine showing up on Saturday to help with a parish clean up and seeing as many people in line for confession as the penance services during Advent or Lent? What would it be like if your parish were known as the premier place in your city for feeding the poor, helping those pregnant and in crisis, assisting immigrants, and helping people save their houses? What would it be like if every parishioner belonged to a Bible study or took part in some special ministry of prayer? What if every parishioner who was able to drive volunteered to take communion to one elderly or homebound person each week, reminding them that they are loved and not forgotten about by the parish? What if you felt so confident in the prayer lives of your fellow parishioners that you genuinely felt comfortable asking them to pray for your specific struggles or concerns, and in addition, took their prayer requests as seriously as anything else you are asked to do all week.


What if instead of passing by your priest after Mass with a handshake and smile, you asked him what specific parish needs you can fulfill that week? What if you started to treat your priest as though he really was the spiritual father of your parish and family; if you invited him out to eat, had him bless you and your kids before he left the house, and went to him first when you have some serious personal problem? What would your parish look like if the priests, deacons, and religious were so impressive that every parent encouraged their kids to consider a religious vocation? What would your parish look like if it were really beginning to make you into a saint? What would you begin to look like? How would it change your marriage? How would it change your kids?


So when I sit in the pew before Mass with a look on my face that might be hard to read, I’m imagining things being different, being even better than they are now. But it’s not because I’m disappointed in your parish or my parish or any other. It’s because every time I gather with God’s people for Mass I see the true potential within me and within you. Why? Because God’s there, and this is what God longs to do with us.


St. Irenaeus says that “The glory of God is man fully alive.” Just imagine what your parish would look like if every man, woman, and child, every family, every couple, every single, every priest, every religious, every layperson, everyone on the books at your parish were made just a little more alive each day, each week, each year, in the parish you call home.

I’ll tell you what your parish would look like...it would change the world.