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.
Reflections of Faith
When I was in seminary abroad, I traveled to Ukraine over winter break to visit friends. I stayed in a 600-year-old house in the eastern part of the country. It was a simple home with few modern comforts. In fact, I was only ever in the main living space, gathered around a large wood-burning hearth that served as the heart of the house.
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.
If I were a prospective elementary school parent, the first question I would ask a principal or teacher would be: What is your mission?
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.
Today, AI is everywhere. It has become a part of our daily interactions, our learning systems, our communications, and even our worship spaces.
As the Holy Father stepped onto the central loggia above St. Peter’s Square on May 8, I was overcome with emotion and pride, swept up in the historical significance of the moment. Like many around the world, I was intrigued — and excited — by his decision to take the name Leo XIV.
We desire to see improvements in our family, friends, and community, and yet we sometimes fail to acknowledge that true transformation begins within.