In this article, I would like us to reflect more intentionally on how our baptismal promises are meant to be lived in a very practical way within the parish community.
Father Jacob Dankasa
As the year draws to a close, many of us find ourselves reflecting on the months gone by — our successes, our failures, and the opportunities we embraced or missed. Some may already be drafting resolutions for the new year, hoping to chart a better course ahead. In the midst of these reflections, I invite you to consider one resolution that is often overlooked but deeply essential: nurturing the spiritual lives of our children.
As we approach the end of the liturgical year, the Church invites us to reflect deeply on the four last things: death, judgment, heaven, and hell. These themes are not meant to frighten us but to prepare us. They help us to remember that our journey on earth is temporary; we are people in transit, moving toward our eternal destination.
In the journey of life, problems, storms, and worries are inevitable. Sometimes we encounter trials that shake our foundations, moments when our faith is tested, or seasons when our hope seems distant.
As the fall season approaches each year, many of our parishes begin preparing to bring their communities together in joyful celebrations. Some call these gatherings “parish festivals,” while others prefer the name “carnivals.” Whatever we choose to call them, these celebrations are far more than just events on a calendar. They are living reminders of our fellowship with Christ and with one another as a community of believers.
Donning a police hat, white shirt, and badge, Father Jacob Dankasa could easily be mistaken for a police officer at first glance; but a second look might reveal the stark clerical collar peeking through his uniform, a hint to the priest’s true role: police chaplain.
In Mark 4:35, just before the calming of the storm at sea, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us cross to the other side.” They boarded a boat, and it was during this crossing that a violent storm arose, with heavy waves threatening to overwhelm them. It was there, in the midst of the storm, that Jesus calmed the sea.
There is a quiet strength in surrender — one that doesn’t always feel heroic, yet often marks the beginning of our most transformative spiritual journeys.
Today, AI is everywhere. It has become a part of our daily interactions, our learning systems, our communications, and even our worship spaces.
Oh, how I love Peter! Not because he was perfect or always got things right, but because he was human — flawed, impulsive, emotional, and yet so deeply faithful.