On Monday, June 2, Archbishop José H. Gomez, Archbishop of Los Angeles, shared on his Facebook page the following: “Today I want to pray for all those who have fallen away from the faith. May they come back home — and may they be received with open arms by you. By me. By everyone.” As I reflected on his prayer intention, an almost overwhelming sense of hopelessness came over me. I found it difficult to conceive how so many people could ever come back to the faith. If anything, it seems that more people are leaving the Church than returning. However, this feeling of hopelessness began to disappear once I recognized that they don’t have to return to the faith all at once, but a person at a time.
Monthly Newspaper • DIOCESE OF BRIDGEPORT
“When God desires a work to be wholly from His hand, He reduces all to impotence and nothingness, and then He acts.”
–Jacques-Benigne Bossuet from Jean-Baptiste Chautard’s Soul of the Apostolate p.105
I serve as a Catholic missionary befriending the homeless with an organization called Christ in the City in Denver, Colorado. I walk in the neighborhood around Denver’s Capital building with two missionaries daily, and we have the beautiful privilege of befriending men and women whom I call my Friends on the Street. We spend our days sitting on the sidewalk ‘wasting time,’ building trust and deepening relationships. Some days it is really easy to see Christ in the poor, and other days it seems next to impossible. Yet in the Lord’s fidelity, no matter if it seems easy or hard to love the person in front of me, He reminds me that it is always about His love, not my human limitations.
Every Monday night, the missionaries pray the Liturgy of the Hours in our chapel, and I hear the words that continually pierce my heart: “O Lord my God, unwearied is your love for us” (Christian Prayer, p.1041). They are particularly striking, because I wish that I could be unwearied in loving my community members, Friends on the Street, or even myself. Yet, He loves each of us more than I ever could. On Monday nights, when I am particularly discouraged, this antiphon reminds me that none of my missionary work is about me. It’s about loving others and letting them love me. My Friends on the Street and I have spent many hours laughing, crying, telling stories, and supporting each other when we are discouraged. I am nothing if I act alone, but by His grace, I can share some of His unwavering love with each person I encounter.
By: Madeleine M. Veith
Do you feel stuck in your quest to know God? Have you ever been around a person whose pores breathe perfect and radiant peace? You may pray, go to church, and have a great family, but maybe you don’t feel satisfied in the same way your friend seems to be. In these moments, we must ask ourselves: where is God in our lives?
At times, we don’t notice God working in our lives when we do not take the time to stop and reflect. Even still, He is at work and we need to surrender to Him, unafraid. When we make this decision and invite Him in, He will enter into our lives. In Revelation 3:20, Jesus makes this offer: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him.”
Our lives are about change, growth, discovery, movement, transformation, stretching the soul, and facing challenges at every step along the way. As Christians, our spiritual journey brings us back to Jerusalem, to the death and resurrection of Jesus, which gives meaning to all that we do.
The question is: how do we surrender unafraid; how do we invite Christ in; how do we get connected to the sense of discipleship? Most of the time, we follow ourselves instead of following Christ. First of all, we need to know that the Lord is calling all of us to follow Him and that each of us has a gift from God. This gift and call are irrevocable. We have a duty to seek out the Lord; everyone on this earth has that duty. Openness to Him will help you to be aware of his presence; and hence, you will go forward, shaping your life story into a magnificent tale of triumph, of healing, beauty and love.
Lastly, always remember this: no matter what you are experiencing, sweet or bitter, good or evil, no matter how long it lasts, He has not left you alone.
By: Chidi Izuazu
I saw Jesus’s resurrected body. That same body that was crucified and rose almost two thousand years ago was in my hometown. The whole group of about sixty people and I can all testify to it. We saw Him, received Him, and prayed with Him.
At Mass, Heaven and Earth meet as the Priest proclaims, “Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is my body, which will be given up for you”. On Good Friday, the Son of God was given upfor us on the Cross. As the most benevolent act of pure mercy and love, the Eucharist became the center of our Catholic faith. To receive the presence of the Lord is to dwell in the fullness of God. Jesus himself said, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them” (John 6:56).
It was hard for me to fall asleep the night before my Ordination to the Transitional Diaconate on May 19, 2018. I was filled with excitement and anticipation at the thought of being in St. Augustine Cathedral in the morning, with my fellow classmates Chris Ford and David Roman, and having Bishop Frank place his hands on my head and infuse my soul with the grace of the Holy Spirit. I pondered what it might feel like to undergo a true ontological change in my being. I also visualized myself lying prostrate on the marble in the sanctuary, only moments before, while the Litany of Saints was being chanted for us to receive additional strength and blessings for our newly minted ministries. As each Saints name would be heard echoing through the Cathedral I wanted to recall the special qualities and virtues they exhibited, including the two I asked to be invoked; Pope St. John Paul II and Maximillian Kolbe.
These last 5 years of seminary formation have gone by in a flash, and despite the natural human wrestling with the question of my vocational calling, what has remained constant is God’s grace, and the certainty that I have been called to live a life of holiness. There is a very solid tradition to daily consecrate oneself to the Lord. And that is something that I have done for years, offering up my ‘prayers, actions, and sacrifices’ of each day. It has truly brought me joy and consolation to do so.
“We, for our part, love because He has first loved us” (1 John 4:19). The closer that Ordination comes, the more I find these words echoing in my heart, affirming that the initiative of love and the gift of my vocation do not belong to me. They belong to God. And so, the journey of seminary formation has been an exercise in trust and in learning that there is nothing that comes from God that is not a manifestation of His love – including, and especially, my vocation.
When I entered seminary, I was filled with anxiety about my past and my future. What was I giving up? Where would God lead me? Am I worthy of this vocation? I must admit, I would be lying if I said those questions did not still arise in my heart from time to time. But in response, seminary formation has taught me this above all things: God is constantly gazing upon me with a Fatherly love. The journey of seminary is a journey to the Father’s heart.
No one enters seminary perfectly formed and ready to be a priest. In a sense, no one leaves seminary that way either. But I have learned that when we place ourselves in the Father’s gaze and experience the transformative power of His love in our own hearts, then we are at least prepared to offer ourselves as living vessels of that love for others, a love that can do far more than we have ever thought or imagined.
By: Chris Ford, soon-to-be Transitional Deacon
In today’s Gospel, we hear Jesus’ last words to His apostles before His Ascension into Heaven, completing His mission on this earth. As He’s about to return to the Father, Jesus tells His apostles to “go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature.” How important must this be to Jesus and His plan, since these are the words on His mind before He ascends into Heaven!
Jesus speaks the same words to us today. The same words He spoke to His apostles before His Ascension, He says to us today: “Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature.” We are called to spread the Good News of Jesus to all the world: to share the love, mercy, and presence of God to all those who are unaware of this reality. Following Jesus’ final command to His apostles, we are called to bring the world to Jesus one person at a time, as Bishop Frank likes to say.
Most of the time, this happens in a subtle way in our everyday lives. Rather than standing on a soapbox on a street corner, we spread the Gospel by using the “most personal gifts that God has placed in our hearts (cf. 1 Cor 12:7), rather than hopelessly trying to imitate something not meant for [us]” (Gaudete et Exsultate11). We spread the Gospel in our workplaces, in our schools, in our homes, and in our families through our words and actions. In a word, we spread the Gospel through our example, through our Christ-likeness. We spread the Gospel at all times, only using words when necessary.
Now that sounds like quite the challenge from the Lord right before His Ascension. But there’s good news: Jesus promises to be with us through the whole process! He tells us that He will be with us always, even to the end of the age (cf. Matthew 28:20). He also tells us that He will send an Advocate – the Holy Spirit – to be with us and to help us too. Next Sunday, May 20, we will celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit, who is the giver of all good gifts, on Pentecost. Jesus’ Ascension – and his final command to His apostles and to us – is closely connected to the coming of the Holy Spirit, who gave the apostles and gives us the courage to spread the Gospel in whatever way He is asking us to do so.
Today, let’s take a moment to reflect on this command of the Lord to spread the Gospel to all parts of the world. How are we doing in fulfilling this desire of Jesus? How can we spread the Gospel in our daily lives? How can we show the face of Christ to a hurting world? While we’re reflecting on these questions, let’s take comfort in the fact that Jesus is with us through the whole process of evangelization, as He promised. Take comfort in the Holy Spirit’s presence in the midst of our efforts to spread the Good News. With them at our sides, nothing is impossible. So let’s go out and bring the world to Jesus, one person at a time.
When I was first becoming more active in my Catholic faith as a high school student, I remember hearing about the World Youth Day events held throughout the world, drawing thousands of young people from every country imaginable to gather in celebration and prayer with the Holy Father. I knew for certain that I would love to attend a World Youth Day, but I didn’t know if I would ever have the opportunity.
Well, God certainly has a way of fulfilling my desires and surpassing my expectations. I’ve been blessed to attend not one but two World Youth Days and both were incredible, enlightening, challenging, and joyful experiences. I accompanied groups of high school students to World Youth Day in Madrid, Spain in 2011, and to Krakow, Poland in 2016. It was amazing and encouraging to watch the young people truly see the Church on a universal scale, as we saw groups of pilgrims from different countries joyfully professing their faith and proudly carrying their flags. World Youth Day shows the young people who attend, as well as the rest of the world, that the Church is alive and a life lived for Christ is one of joy and hope.
Another highlight of World Youth Day is the arrival of the Holy Father to the host city. In Madrid, we positioned ourselves alongside a street where Pope Benedict was scheduled to drive by in the Popemobile. In Krakow, we met some local police officers who told us that we should wait outside the Archbishop’s palace for the chance to see Pope Francis give a short speech from the Archbishop’s window. Seeing and hearing both Popes was incredible, electrifying, and nearly indescribable, and absolutely worth the wait, but even the process of waiting lead to many deep conversations, the chance to talk to pilgrims from other countries, and the opportunity to pray, sing, and cheer with other pilgrims to pass the time.
There is much more to be said about World Youth Day than I can fit into this short blog post. Attending a World Youth Day is absolutely worth the time, cost, travel, and any other difficulties involved. Please join me in praying that many young adults, especially those in the Diocese of Bridgeport, will respond to the call to attend World Youth Day in January of 2019 in Panama City. Interested young adults can visitwww.conncatholics.org for details about our pilgrimage and to download a registration form.
By Jess Nayden, Program Coordinator for the Catholic Service Corps
This week The Face of Prayer will publish its 52nd video, marking one year since this campaign started. It has been a great joy and privilege sharing my video reflections on prayer with you each week, and I hope you found them to be helpful! I have been deeply touched by the many people who have shared their own reflections of prayer with me on my social media accounts or through our email newsletter.
“I don’t have time to pray. I’m too busy.” This is the usual excuse I use time and again to rationalize the lull periods in my prayer life. And then I continue to justify and rationalize this statement by listing all the things I have to do. I convince myself that Jesus is demanding too much of me and my time. Quite frankly, however, this is a lie. Yes, Jesus wants all of us, but He doesn’t demand that we spend our entire day in silent prayer. St. Paul says, “Do everything for the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31). This verse helps to keep me focused as I teach, grade, study, and perform my other daily responsibilities, especially during stressful times of the day. Making these tasks part of my prayer life and offering it up for the glory of God grounds everything I do in a way that always points back to Him.
This is not to say that we should neglect that silent prayer time. Not at all! We still need time to unplug and focus our minds and hearts solely on Jesus. This past Lent, I opted for silence during my drive to and from work. This silence allowed time to cultivate a more intentional prayer life. It was a 20 minute ride to work, so I prayed the Rosary in the morning, and on the way home I prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet. Forming these habits throughout Lent allowed me to put aside the idea that I was “too busy” for Jesus. One other way I put this idea aside is by intentionally praying with the daily Face of Prayer text message. Each day, the text comes with a specific intention and the start of a Hail Mary. It’s a great reminder to pray and only takes about 30 seconds! There’s really no excuse to not pause and give that time to God. He wants to hear from us, even if it’s only for 30 seconds.
Text PRAY to 55778 to receive the daily prayer.
By: Emma Ryder
Emma Ryder will be joining the Diocese this summer as Coordinator of The Face of Prayer
Pope Francis has a message for us: Do not be afraid of holiness,” he encourages. “It will take away none of your energy, vitality, or joy.” In short, answering the universal call to holiness costs you very little.
Do yourself a favor this Easter season (yes, we are still in the Easter season), and read Gaudete et Exsultate (Rejoice and Be Glad), which was published today by the Vatican and signed by Pope Francis on the feast of St. Joseph on March 19. This new apostolic exhortation invites the faithful to consider the universal call to holiness and challenges us against being “enemies of holiness” by the way we live and treat others.
In this document, Pope Francis is talking to us – even writing in the second person to make sure you and I understand that this message is for those who read it. “We are called to be holy by living our loves and love and by bearing witness in everything we do, wherever we find ourselves.” By doing this, Pope Francis says, we can become the “saints next door” – the middle-class moms and dads trying to raise faith-filled children, the types of people to whom others can look to for an example of Christian living.
Contrary to recent news reports, Pope Francis clearly states that the devil is real (and powerful) and offers advice on how to counter the power of evil and the “poison” the devil delivers to our world. Letting down our guard, Pope Francis warns, lets the devil in and allows the poison to spread.
There is much to enjoy in this exhortation and I encourage you to read it. It will take some time to work through and there will be moments of surprise. I dare say that Pope Francis’ critics will take issue with his elevation of immigration issues to an equal footing with bioethical concerns. But those critics would be better served reading the document and not just a review. We cannot, as a Church, sing songs like All Are Welcome without understanding the implications of the words we sing. We cannot, Pope Francis challenges, be content being against abortion (though he is clear our defense of the unborn must be “clear, firm and passionate”) and yet not care for children once they are outside the womb.
The section on discernment is a great read for those who want to learn more about spiritual practices that can lead to holiness. For those who love the Beatitudes, read Pope Francis’ comments on how that wonderful chapter in Matthew are the “identity card” for every Catholic. For those who, like me, struggle with saying twice what I should, pay attention to Pope Francis admonition that holiness never includes talking about our friends and neighbors.
Rejoice and be glad. Perfection is not required. Holiness is not only possible. It is necessary.
By: Patrick Donovan, Executive Director of The Leadership Institute
During these days of Easter week, the Gospels recount the early appearance accounts of the Risen Lord to his disciples. What is common to many of them is the fact that these disciples could not recognize the Lord’s presence, even when he was standing in front of them. They overcame their “blindness” only when the Lord made the outreach first, allowing them to recognize His presence.
The inability of the earliest disciples to recognize the Lord’s presence was caused in part by their own self-absorption. They were consumed by their own concerns and feelings, whether that was grief on the part of Mary Magdalene, or confusion and disappointment as was true for the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. One could describe them as being “stuck” within their own worlds, rendering them unable to see outside of themselves and to welcome the presence of Christ as He truly is.
We should not judge these disciples since we are all, at one time or another, guilty of missing the Lord, whose presence is often staring us in the face. We become so absorbed in the busy pace of our lives, our own troubles and challenges, or set in our own opinions and desires that we become blind. At such times, we must pray to become “unstuck” and to learn to see beyond our own noses. We must stop, look and listen for the signs of the Lord’s presence. For if we can learn to do this each day, what we will recognize is that the Lord is present before us all the while.
Bishop Frank Caggiano
Have you ever been going through a tough time, and somebody told you to “put it before the cross” or “give it up to God?”
I have been given this advice by well-intentioned people countless times as a remedy for everything from test anxiety, to a breakup, to deaths in the family. No matter the situation, my answer was always simple: “how?”
How does one give up a share of one’s burden? How can I simultaneously pick up my cross, and let Christ walk with me?
All of this came to a head in January, as I journeyed with our Diocesan pilgrimage to the Holy Land. As Social Media Leader, I had asked Diocesan faithful to share their intentions on our various media platforms so I could bring them with me on the journey. I had also reached out to friends, family members, and everyone I talked to, asking for their intentions. On this trip, I tried very intentionally to hold them in my heart, praying for them at specific, meaningful holy places, and doing so with intensity and passion.
I was amazed by the personal, oftentimes tearful, conversations I had with people in the months and weeks leading up to the trip. I found myself carrying people’s most important, most cherished, and in some cases, most desperate intentions.
The day we arrived, just as we were about to retire for the evening in Bethlehem, I received news of a sudden death in my girlfriend’s (now fiancée’s) family. Again, for the first time in my life, I felt the desperate inclination that someone has when they see someone they love in pain – the longing feeling of wanting to take their pain away.
I made plans to come home a few days early to attend services, which would mean missing the opportunity to walk the way of the Cross and to journey with Christ towards Calvary. I was upset, of course, but resolute in my decision to head home early.
As the trip progressed, I was blessed with a guide (and a Bishop) who were adamantly set on making sure I did not miss this holiest of holy sites. There was a catch, though: I would have to walk this journey alone, without the rest of my group.
For those of you who have not been to the Holy Land, I am sure you can understand that this pilgrimage is emotional, moving, and powerful. My fellow pilgrims and I were moved to tears with regularity and spent hours in the evenings discussing and reflecting on the wonders (and challenges) that we had seen. After visiting Mt. Tabor, the group was filled with a combination of dread and excitement – we knew the next stop was Jerusalem, and that would mean we finally coming face-to-face with the Lord’s passion and death. We were all nervous as to how we were going to react.
For me, I was anxious that I would feel “nothing” or “everything.” I was anxious that I would be too overwhelmed to deal with my emotions, or worse, that I would be unable to control my emotions and become an embarrassment to those around me.
I voiced this to the Bishop, who said to me: “Perhaps you were meant to walk this journey alone. Perhaps Christ has something to share with you.”
And so, I did. Our group was incredibly encouraging as we parted ways along the Way of the Cross, and our guide pointed down the street to where I must go. As I departed, I became more emotional, and as I took a step, I felt the crushing, physical, heavy weight of those intentions I had carried with me all week, of my anxieties, and of our recent loss.
The pain I felt was real. I am not speaking about anything metaphorical; I am talking about a physical, heavy burden on my shoulders. I felt it as I walked around with tears streaming down my face, slightly hunched over, and white as a ghost from lack of sleep. Remember that part about being afraid to make a scene? Well there I was, making a scene. Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice.
As I walked through the streets of Jerusalem, the burden seemed to grow heavier and heavier, and the tears continued to flow. I imagined what this must have looked like 2,000 years ago. I pictured the humiliation that Jesus had endured. I could not believe the cruelty, the evil, the injustice of it all! I was completely inconsolable.
Finally, I turned the corner and entered into the courtyard of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. As I walked into the dark Church, I prepared myself for what was surely going to be an even more intense reaction. I took a deep breath, walked in, and then…
Nothing. I felt nothing.
The burden on my shoulders? Gone. The tears streaming down my face? Gone. I could not produce a tear if I tried. What was worse is that I was lost, confused, and faced with hundreds of tourists talking, laughing, and smiling.
I finally found my way to the site of the crucifixion and waited in a line around the corner. Now, I was angry. How could I feel nothing? I was in the spot that Christ suffered and died for MY sins. The place where my salvation itself was born! How could I feel nothing?
The nothingness lasted only until I rounded the corner and saw the stones of Golgotha, and the Crucifix hanging over the spot where our Lord died. The tears returned, and the burden was back. I wasn’t just sniffling. I was audibly, loudly, crying. So much so that right before it was my turn to venerate, the nun behind me put her hand on my shoulder and said in broken English “it’s okay! He lives!”
I knelt down to venerate the stone, almost out of necessity, for the burden was too heavy. “I can’t do it anymore,” I said, “It’s too much. How did you do this for all of humanity?”
At that, I felt the burden from my shoulders lifted, and my tears dry up. “Let me help you carry those,” I heard in the very depths of my soul. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
It seems I had confused nothingness with emptiness. The intentions were never mine, they belonged to Him. I was the vessel people used to get their prayers to the Holy Land and I let them overwhelm me. Now, face to face with the darkest place on earth, I realized, perhaps for the first time, the true meaning of Matthew 11:29.
“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.”
It took a trip to the place where Jesus died on the cross to understand how to let Him into my sufferings. It took touching the stones of Golgotha to understand that “giving it up to the Lord” was not just a platitude, it was the only way. God does not just want me to share with Him my joys and my triumphs, He wants to walk with me in my sufferings, in my faults, and in my failings. God does not allow me to suffer alone. In fact, I am never alone. God wants to help me through my sufferings. God wants me to know that even though suffering is inevitable, so too is the fact that suffering is not the end. For my journey to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher did not end at Calvary. It ended inside the Empty Tomb, and the joy there was radiant and indescribable.
But that is an experience to be shared at another time.
Today, Good Friday, we remember suffering. We remember death. We remember sacrifice. Most of all, we remember the great gift of freedom and peace and joy that His suffering gives to each of us.
By: John Grosso, Social Media Leader