Monthly Newspaper • DIOCESE OF BRIDGEPORT

There’s almost nothing that changes a person as much as becoming a parent does.  When that baby arrives, it comes with no instructions, and it’s up to the parents to take that baby home and somehow keep it alive.  Witnessing that among my sisters and my friends, it’s amazing to see how, before long, they’re able to do things like change diapers and wipe noses that they would have been completely repulsed by not long before. And then you see them have a second one, and then a third, and maybe even a fourth or fifth.

The thing about parenthood is not just that you have to keep them physically alive. You also have to teach them things, things that aren’t all that easy to explain: “Why is water wet?” “Where did I come from?” “Who made God?”  If there’s something that people discover through the experience of having children, it’s that we have very little control over things in life. But giving themselves over to that of lack of control and having to figure things out has a remarkable effect.

When people look back on their lives, they often marvel at how much being a mom and dad has changed them. They are amazed at how different they have become from the totally self-absorbed and self-centered creature they had been; how hard it was to undergo the change, but also because they loved their child so much, it was kind of easy at the same time.

In today’s first reading, the prophet Malachi uses an image of refiner’s fire. In the ancient process of metallurgy, you would mine the metal ore from the ground, and you would subject it to fire.  And under the stresses of the flame, the metal would be pulled from the ore, and the contaminating minerals would be separated out and thrown away.  You’d be left with the pure silver or gold. Purified through the refining process, what had been pulled out of the earth as a piece of rock now shines and gleams and is more beautiful — and it’s because it suffered the testing of fire.

It is, in a way, what happens when a child comes into the life of a mother and father. It is a testing by fire that brings something amazing out of them — it makes them greater.

Joseph and Mary’s lives were radically changed by the presence of the infant Christ.  The Scriptures talk about how they would be amazed by things, and Our Lady would ponder on the things she experienced in her heart.

In today’s Gospel, they bring Him, according to the Law, to the Temple in Jerusalem, the place of sacrifice, for the purification rituals. It was a common thing in the life of a Jewish family. Yet, all of these strange things happen. When Our Lord enters the Temple in his mother’s arms, these two elderly people, Simeon and Anna, approach.  They have been long expecting the coming of the Savior.

Simeon, after rejoicing at the appearance of the Child, turns to His mother and shares with her a prophecy.  He tells Mary that Jesus would be “a sign that would be contradicted.” He is revealing to her that there would be resistance to her son.  He would not be accepted or welcomed by the world. But through that rejection, which culminated in His crucifixion, the Savior would save us.  Despite the pain and the suffering it presented, Our Lord embraced the cross, because He loves us. And His acceptance of the cross out of love for us led to our redemption. It opened the door to our salvation.  It changed everything.

But the prophecy of Simeon did not say that only Our Lord would suffer.  Simeon tells the Blessed Mother, “And you, yourself, a sword will pierce.”  He is revealing to her that she, who was Our Lord’s greatest follower, would not be exempted from a share in the suffering of her Lord and Savior.  To see her son, her little child persecuted, arrested, mocked, scourged and crucified must have been incredibly painful — the suffering of a thousand deaths, the suffering of her Seven Sorrows.

But yet, through her acceptance of a share in the cross, Our Lady participated in Our Lord’s act of redeeming the world.  She was full of grace from the moment of her conception. And so, she was perfectly united to the Lord and was able to offer the suffering that came because of her fidelity to Him.  This lowly handmaid of Nazareth, the sorrowful mother of Calvary, is now the Queen of Heaven — God’s most glorious creature.

So the question we must ask is what our life with the Lord is like. Because the Lord Jesus comes into our lives — He comes into our world — as a sign of contradiction. When we are confronted with this, we must decide: “Who is He to me?” “Do I believe He is who He says He is?  Do I believe that I am who He says I am?” This is the moment when we are presented with the cross, and we have to decide how we’re going to respond.  To follow Him does not come without cost.

It’s like parents who must decide to give their whole selves to the care of their child. If they don’t, they won’t be good parents, and they won’t be changed by the experience. It’s like ore taken from the ground that isn’t subjected to fire and so is never made to shine like silver and gold. In the same way, if we refuse the cross of discipleship and cannot follow Him, we cannot be changed/transformed/glorified as God desires.

But why would we refuse it?  Why do we resist taking the chance to give our whole lives and our families to Christ and to accept the guidance of the Church that the Lord gives to us? I think it’s because we’re a little (or a lot) afraid of what discipleship requires of us. We fear the loss of control over our lives, we like deciding for ourselves what is true and good, we think that faith asks too much of us and the cross it offers is too big.

A few minutes ago, I said that almost nothing changes us more than parenthood. One thing that does change us more is discipleship. Our relationship with Christ as a member of His family, the Church, transforms us most of all. And when we recognize the love of the One who took up the cross for our sake, when we really get a glimpse of Him, we find our heart opens up to Him in gratitude for what He did for us and how much He loves us.  And those crosses we thought we could never take up in life somehow become much easier to bear.

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(This homily was delivered by Rev. John P. Connaughton at the annual “Baptism Anniversary Celebration” at The Parish of St. Cecilia-St. Gabriel on the feast of the Presentation of the Lord, February 2.)

I have a confession to make…my Christmas decorations are still up. Luckily for Catholics, we can conveniently use the excuse that the Christmas season technically lasts until The Baptism of the Lord on January 12 (or the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple on February 2, if we want to get really technical).

But something in me just did not want to take down the lights this year. There was something about their warm glow that I just didn’t want to lose, because the doldrums of winter just seem so long without them.

What is it about winter that always seems so melancholy? I know it’s coming every year and yet every year I brace against it.

Is there a way to hold on to the magic of Christmas a little bit longer? One could argue yes, of course, Jesus is always with us. But there still is something especially magical about a baby in a manger. I am almost moved to tears every time I gaze upon a Nativity scene. I don’t know if it’s the vulnerability of it all that pulls on my heartstrings, or if it is the silence, the stillness, the holiness.

My family experienced some health scares in 2019. So in 2020 my focus is on wellness—mind, body and spirit. I bought essential oils and downloaded a meditation app. I made some doctor’s appointments I had been putting off, trying to will wellness into existence with almost equal exuberance as my determination to keep the lights on.

But it’s the spiritual side that is tripping me up a bit this year. I’ve lost some trust. And maybe this is part of growing older, or maybe it’s circumstantial…or maybe it’s something else. I’m trying to do what works for me—to form an adult faith.

Is it okay if picturing the Christ child as a vulnerable baby as part of a young immigrant family in a stable is what works for me this year? Can the tears that come to my eyes be my own prayer, even if that’s all I can muster?

If Christmas lights until February works for me, can that be okay too? Can I leave the lights on a little bit longer? Can I sit in their warmth and feel held by God in the Light of Christ, if that’s the only way?

My hope is to remain in these moments, to take each of them as they come and embrace them.

There’s a beach down the road from where I live. I run to the end of the road and back every day. Some mornings I wouldn’t stop at the beach because I was in too much of a hurry but this year I am going to stop every morning. I am going to take it all in—no matter the weather.

The ocean reminds us that there are days when things will be tumultuous, but there are also days when a peaceful calm will wash over us. And we can experience each of them with the same openness.

And we can leave the lights on.

Libby Clyons is Communications Associate for the Diocese of Bridgeport. Her monthly column called “A Young Woman’s Voice” is featured in Fairfield County Catholic. 

Many communities offer a “meet and greet” with police officers and citizens at a local diner or coffee shop for a no pressure, no commitment, very casual chat to strengthen ties and understanding between the two groups. It’s called ”Coffee with a Cop,” though often there is not even coffee! I thought how similar the concept was when I attended a Eucharistic Adoration at my parish, the Church of the Holy Spirit.

I enter the church and kneel in the back pew while eyeing the Holy Eucharist in the monstrance on the altar. I have come to spend time with the Lord but almost immediately my mind wanders. Distracted already, I scan the front and side pews and guess that about ten people are there. I jerk myself to attention and ask the Lord to forgive me for my sins, to take care of my family, my friends and all the loved ones who have died and I’ve forgotten to pray for lately. Oh wait Lord! I forgot to thank you first for all the blessings of my life! My faith, my family, my health, for all the answered prayers! I don’t want to be like the nine lepers who never came back to thank you!

Now I sit back and think that the pews should be cushioned. I look around and actually count the people. Eight, but more are coming in. I wonder how long I’ll stay. What did Jesus say to his followers? “Can you not watch with me one hour?” I think I cannot sit for a whole hour. I have things to do and this pew hurts my back. Okay, I tell myself, I’ll stay just a bit, maybe fifteen minutes so I don’t look like I don’t care that the Lord is actually there, on the altar, in the church, I sit in. But I’m still not settled. I kneel again and say the Lord’s Prayer and Hail Mary. I think of how I pray all day and wonder if He is tired of hearing from me.

On the way to work, “Lord protect me and my family from harm and catastrophe on the roads and don’t let us hurt anyone else. Please be in my mind, my heart and my hands as I care for my patients today.”

When I arrive at work, as I work on difficult cases I pray again. Lord give me patience and wisdom right now because I need it.

Help me get this I.V. needle into this terrified child on the first try. Help me to console this daughter whose father won’t survive the hour. The wife arriving because the police have told her that her husband has been in a car crash and is horribly injured. The homeless, unkempt, emaciated man arriving unresponsive from an opiate overdose. “What you do for the least of my brethren you do unto me.” And so it goes all day long. Later I thank God for a day I was able to help and do no harm.

Back home I pray for guidance, patience with my family and less worry…much less worry! Then at night, more prayers. So I wonder if God is tired of me asking for so much, every day, every afternoon, every night, nearly every minute.

Now, still in the pew, I sit back again. Then barely without noticing, I start a very leisurely conversation with the Lord. I’m not rushing to work wondering how many sick I will be faced with in the Emergency Room. I’m not driving home saying thank you Lord and I have to stop to buy bread, eggs and what was that other thing I needed? I’m not trying to go to sleep exhausted from the day, hoping I’ll stay awake long enough to finish my night prayers. This is when it happens. Without noticing why or how, I am comfortable and deeply entrenched in a thoughtful and all-encompassing chat with my God. And now I feel I could sit there forever.

Later, I don’t know how long I’ve been there, but suddenly I know I got what I came for. I’m thinking of chores again and slowly get up to leave, knowing, somehow just knowing, it’s time. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I’m feeling satisfied, peaceful and full of God’s grace.
It’s my “Coffee with God.”

Patricia Agostino is a parishioner of Church of the Holy Spirit in Stamford.

Katelyn Negron, a member of the youth group at St. Philip Church, reflects on her recent experience at NCYC

This was my first time ever attending NCYC. I heard some of my friends from our youth team talk about how great it was, but I didn’t know if I would turn out to love it as much as they did; I didn’t know what to expect. However, as soon as I got on the bus to the airport I knew one of the greatest experiences I’d ever get to have was under way.

For a long time I had been struggling with my faith. I had gone on retreats and such with our St. Philip youth team, but something always seemed to feel like I still wasn’t 100% there. And it might sound like I’m exaggerating, but trust me when I say NCYC truly changed that for me.

I can say so much about this conference: the sessions, the singing, the speakers, but what really hit me was adoration that took place on Friday night in Lucas Oil Stadium. I’ve gone to plenty First Friday Adorations at my church, but this time was different. It wasn’t just kneeling and praying. This time, I felt God right next to me. It was a moment that words won’t be enough to describe. When all of the teens, including myself, ran down to the altar to be closer to God, it didn’t feel like something I should do just because everyone else was doing it, it felt like an instinct. During that moment, I held hands and cried with a girl that I will probably never see again in my life, but she was the one small push that I needed to finally say “yes” to God.

I can probably go on and on about NCYC, about the people I met and the memories I made, but that would probably go on for 20 more pages. What I can say is this: The National Catholic Youth Conference is something that will forever be a huge part of my religion until the day that I return to God’s kingdom. I fell in love with my faith here, and I fell in love with my God here.

(Katelyn and many other teens from St. Philip and the surrounding parishes will be participating in a 24-Hour CRS event FOODFAST 2020 raising awareness about World Hunger – Please visit www.stphilipnorwalk.org)

Alex Morquecho, grade 10, a member of the youth group at St. Peter’s in Danbury reflects on his recent experience at NCYC.

INDIANAPOLIS, Ind.—Throughout my life, I was always “in the middle” when it came to my faith. I asked for help from God when I needed it most, but I only really realized it when I started high school. It showed that I was “in the middle.” My faith would increase or decrease depending on what was going on in my life, but in the end, I was still “in the middle.”

When my youth minister told me about NCYC, I decided to go, hoping that it would truly increase my faith in God. When the day came, I was excited, knowing that there were 20,000 kids just like me who have struggled with their faith in their life.

When we got to the stadium, it was completely filled with kids from all over the US. They gave us an overview of what would happen throughout the next two days—with youth sessions, the village, confession and Mass.

Friday hit me with my first youth session, with a talk given by Father Tony. He talked about dreams that not only I but everyone have that they want to accomplish. He also talked about struggles that today’s youth have, such as issues with race and gender, as well as the loss of a loved one. But he encouraged us that we always have friends that will comfort us and that’s what family is all about. And that family doesn’t have to be your parents or any immediate family member it can be your friends or even your youth group.

The third youth session was about learning how God loves you, and the speaker explained that at times we might feel like he doesn’t. When we headed back to the stadium, we participated in Adoration, a time when Jesus Christ Himself is there right in the middle of the stadium.

When the band was singing, I sang along and realized that it related so much to me and that what we were singing was true. It caused me to cry—but it was okay because Jesus knows the tears and the struggles in my life. I held those tears throughout my life, but I only let out half of it that day.

The next day we had Mass at the stadium and that’s when I released it all—because I knew Jesus wanted me to, but only when the time was right for me. It was that time my faith truly grew and my trust in Jesus increased knowing he’s by my side, always, no matter where I go.

Many of us have heard about a pacemaker. It is a medical device implanted near one’s heart to regulate heartbeats. However, there is also a place-maker. Her name is Mary. When Almighty God, our heavenly Father, according to His divine plan, decided to send His Son into the world, He needed a place a for Jesus to arrive. That place was in the womb of Mary.  At the Annunciation, when the Archangel Gabriel brought to Mary the invitation of God, she responded that she was the handmaiden of the Lord and would cooperate with God’s plan. She made a place in her body and conceived the Son of God by the power of the Holy Spirit.

However, this brought upheaval in her life. St. Joseph wanted to quietly divorce her. Most likely, Mary thought that she would have the typical life of a Jewish woman of her day by being a support to her husband, the breadwinner. She would go to the well to get the water, cook, clean and do the household chores. So Mary made a place in her life for Jesus, she became His first and best follower and supported her Son throughout both His private and public life. Mary was there for Christ along with St. Joseph in the Holy Family of Nazareth for protecting, nurturing and teaching Him.

Our Lady and was instrumental in the first miracle of her Son at the wedding of Cana. She accompanied Him in Galilee and was there to be of support in His ministry. Jesus elevated her to discipleship when He stated, “My mother and brothers are those who hear God’s word and put it into practice” (Lk: 8:21; Mt. 12:48-50).

Our Lady was there for her Son, Jesus Christ and suffered with Him on the Via Dolorosa and at Golgotha. There, the prophesy of Simeon at the Presentation in the Temple, “a sword will pierce your soul” (Lk. 2:35) would be fulfilled. After His triumph, she was there for the apostles and disciples on the Upper Room on Pentecost, becoming the Mother of the Church.

Mary also made a place in her heart for Christ. Twice in the second chapter of the Gospel of St. Luke, we hear that “Mary treasured these memories and remembered them in her heart” (Lk. 2:19; 2:51). In fact, according to the ancient tradition of the Church, it was Mary who recounted to St. Luke the early events in the life of her Son from the Annunciation to the Visitation to the Nativity and Flight into Egypt and Finding in the Temple.

We are invited to follow the holy example of Mary. We have the privilege to receive Jesus in Holy Communion at Mass. Let us make a place in our body and soul to receive Him worthily. May we prepare ourselves spiritually and arrive at Mass with happy anticipation to encounter the Lord. Like Mary, we also make a place in our lives for the Lord Jesus by making Him out best friend and the center of our lives. St. Paul tells us, “In Him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).

Following the example of Mary, we also make a place in our hearts for the Lord. Like her, we are invited to treasure in our hearts the memories of the Lord’s goodness and mercies upon us. Especially through the mysteries of the Holy Rosary, we have the opportunity to ponder the early events in the life of Christ, His ministry, suffering, death and triumph.

All of us are invited to be like Mary and have an important place in our bodies, lives and hearts for the Lord so that we can have abundant life in Him. And after a fruitful life with Jesus and Mary as our models, and one day, at the end of our earthly pilgrimage, may Christ prepare a place to join Him forever in the kingdom of heaven.

by: Reverend Matthew R. Mauriello

The term “social media” has often baffled me. I remember my parents going to the church “social” with our neighbors, and my younger brother being called the “social” one after walking into a room of strangers and leaving with ten friends. I always associated that term with getting together in a physical sense, not a digital one. Though I fully realize the benefits of today’s social media in reuniting old classmates and sharing vacation photos, those who know me best understand that I’d rather take a walk with a neighbor, meet friends for coffee, or gather around the fire pit with them all when the evening air nips with the intimation of autumn.

As change is the only constant in our lives though, such morning walks and coffee breaks seemed to become less and less frequent for us all of late. Jobs became more demanding, elementary playdates for our kids turned into middle school dances where we weren’t allowed, and the ties that had bound us started to fray. Something was missing.

When I saw my friend Terri out walking her dog one day last spring and she too lamented over the loss of our daily chats at the bus stop and time spent together at the annual school fundraisers, we knew we needed more than social media to keep us “social,” to keep us and all the others with whom we bonded a decade ago together. How did I not know her grandfather had died? How did she not know my mother had surgery? From there, on the sidewalk by the mailbox, was born our book club.

Between the pages of the latest New York Times bestseller and Reese Witherspoon’s most recent recommendation, six of us came together again. Over a glass of Chardonnay and a handful of dark chocolate almonds, we remembered why we became friends in the first place. Our love of books was just the social means necessary for this reunification – and we dove right in. The first few gatherings were full-on book talks, with Terri printing out questions for conversation and me choosing favorite quotes to discuss. Jen’s son, with a look of bewilderment, even quipped that it sounded like we were in school. “Who cares?” we laughed. This was our school, our books, our club, and we needed it to stay together – or so we thought.

Sitting around Shannon’s living room last week, Beth sought advice on her new border collie who had escaped through the screen door and bolted up the street. Send her to puppy school or endure the growing pains at home?

From there, we moved onto who knew a good algebra tutor, a reliable plumber, an honest home health aide. Jen told Shannon where to stay if she and her family decided on the Grand Canyon for Spring Break, while Terri shared with me rehearsal tips for my daughter’s piano audition. And we all sympathized with Lynn, whose father was in the early stages of dementia.

The time passed, the chocolate almonds disappeared, and the book that Shannon selected, the one we all loved and couldn’t wait to discuss, sat unopened on our laps. For tonight, that story didn’t matter; our own story did – the one of faithful friends whom Ecclesiasticus says, “when found, hath found a treasure.” In that moment, I saw how the book club brought us together but how it wasn’t what would keep us together. Shared lives, shared joys, shared struggles – those were the ties that would strengthen our bonds and hopefully keep them tight for years to come. And with our books as our “media,” we’d continue being “social” in all the ways that mattered.

By Emily Clark

My friends and I started a young adult group called Catholic Adventures in May of 2018 and due to the success of our initiatives (praise God!), I began to prayerfully discern how we could evangelize the wider Stamford community (not just young adults). I expressed this desire to a friend who told me about Nightfever, a program that was inspired by World Youth Day in 2005, where a parish opens up its doors and invites passersby on busy streets to come into the church, light a candle and experience the presence of God.

Given St. John’s prime location in the middle of downtown Stamford, I didn’t see why we shouldn’t host our own version of Nightfever. I emailed the Diocese of Bridgeport to ask if there were any grants for evangelization, and I heard back from Kelly Weldon of Foundations in Faith a few days later. Kelly told me about Foundations in Faith’s St. John Paul II Fund, which provides monetary support for communal outreach efforts at parishes. With the generous backing/assistance of the priests at St. John’s, I applied for and received a grant from the St. John Paul II Fund to assist with evangelization. We then set a date for our first St. John’s Night Vigil and prepared by purchasing supplies (rosaries, pamphlets, prayer cards, candles, etc.).

Father Joseph kicked off Night Vigil with Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. After Exposition, volunteers from throughout the diocese scoured the streets of Stamford. We approached people of all different ages/backgrounds/ethnicities, listened to them as they shared intimate details about their lives, prayed with them, spoke to them about Christ, and invited them to come to St. John’s to pray or to light a candle.

While street evangelization can be difficult, I’ve learned that you have to be bold for Christ. When God is asking you to do something, you need to trust that He will give you the strength to carry it out. By virtue of our baptism, we are all called to preach the good news. And part of the good news is that Christ loves us for who we are, not for what we do. In a world that places so much emphasis on productivity, wealth and vain pursuits, people need to hear that their value comes from being sons and daughters of God. We all have a God-sized hole in our hearts that only Christ can fill, and there are so many people out on the streets who are trying to fill that hole with everything BUT God. As simple as it sounds, sometimes all someone needs is an invitation to encounter Jesus.

So no more excuses! Don’t wait for others to do what you can do yourself. And if you’re worried about not knowing what to say, take this advice from St. Ambrose who urged St. Monica to “speak less to Augustine about God and more to God about Augustine.” In other words, pray and trust in God to do the work. See you at our next Night Vigil!

By: Diane Kremheller

It took me a while to fully understand this longing I had deep within me. It was a longing for Christ and to be spiritually fed. But it was also a longing for community. To find like-minded people who felt the same as me and wanted to further deepen their relationships with Christ.

It just so happened that while I was beginning to get more involved in my home parish at St. Joseph in Norwalk, the pastor there had been praying about beginning a young adult ministry in the area.

CREDO became what I and many other young adults longed for…a community. A place where together we could share our daily struggles, our daily grinds and grow together as one body for Christ.

We come together twice a month. Once for Mass and a social at one of the bars/restaurants down the street in SONO. And once for a time of in-depth prayer and spiritual renewal.

With the Mass we can worship and offer our sacrifice together at the foot of the cross. And with the in-depth prayer and spiritual renewal nights we can focus more personally on our relationships with Christ.

Credo welcomes all those in the diocese who are 21-31yrs old and asks that all parishes in the surrounding area please promote this among their young adults!

Dates for CREDO:

Oct. 2nd – Mass & Social 7-9 pm

Oct. 23rd – Spiritual Gathering Night 7-9 pm

Address for St. Joes

85 South Main St, Norwalk CT 06854

(For more information visit stjosephsono.org/credo.)

Mike Falbo is a youth minister at St. Peter’s in Danbury and an instituted acolyte. He also serves as a master of ceremony to the bishop.

Most of us will at times (possibly multiple times) find ourselves in situations of great anxiety and uncertainty — perhaps even fear — about the future.  The causes may be financial or medical, employment-related or otherwise, and may come singly or as a “package deal.”  Whatever the cause, anxiety can sap the will, drain the spirit and paralyze action.  All too often it can lead to the feeling of drowning in hopelessness.  In those situations, if we are smart, we reach out to others for help.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a column entitled “The Great Trust Fall” in which I referenced Matthew’s account (14:24-33) of Peter and the disciples in a boat at “a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it” when they saw the figure of Jesus coming to them “walking on the lake.”  I’d like to revisit that story.

Imagine that you are Peter in that boat at that moment.  You are worried that the boat may sink so far from shore and you are fearful for your life and the lives of your companions.  Then suddenly, “shortly before dawn,” you see the figure of the person you believe to be the Messiah, the Anointed One, the Son of God, coming towards the boat, inconceivably walking on the water.  He says “Take courage!  It is I.  Don’t be afraid.”

You say, “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.”  And He says “Come.”

Instinctively, without thinking, you get out of the boat and begin, inconceivably, walking on the water toward Him.  Your eyes are focused on Him, your mind occupied exclusively with the prospect of finding rescue in the face of peril, your spirit alive with the joy of the moment.

And then your mind wanders.  You lose that focus.  Your eyes, distracted by the lightning flashes, stray away from His visage towards the roiling waves.  Your ears become aware once again of the sounds of the storm, the thunder crashing, the rain pounding and the excited voices of your friends in the boat.  You feel the cold water on your feet, somehow solid as you take each step.  Your mind starts spinning, reason telling you that what you are clearly experiencing simply cannot be.  Doubt creeps in, slowly at first until it overwhelms all your senses.  Suddenly you lose sight of Him, focused only on the threats around you, and you begin to sink.

What if it doesn’t have to play out that way?  In my mind Peter is a physically and mentally strong man, and likely no stranger to patience and perseverance; as a fisherman, he would have to be so.  While his faith was not perfect (as his later actions would show), he had his “eyes on the prize,” and I would like to think that he could have made it if only he had consciously blocked out the noise around him and stayed focused on his goal.

Imagine now that you are back in the water, sinking fast. Isn’t that feeling familiar?  Isn’t it just like being anxious about the many things in life we cannot control?  Don’t you want help, someone to reach out a hand and catch you?

Very few of us are saints, but most of us can be quite stubborn when we want to be.  So, I have a suggestion: when your mind begins to race and fret with all the “what ifs” and logical obstacles and problems confronting you, summon your inner stubbornness and push those thoughts away.  Focus instead on the hope of help, even help in a form inconceivable to you at the moment.  Focus hard.  Keep your eyes on the prize.  Have patience.  Persevere.  Don’t get discouraged if you falter, but try to refocus as quickly as possible.  I believe that if Peter had done so, he would have regained his footing.

Jesus said to Peter “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  I think sometimes our tendency to doubt stems from the rather egocentric idea that we have control of our lives, and that anything beyond our experience, knowledge or reason cannot exist.  If we are honest with ourselves, haven’t there been moments in our lives that belie that assumption?

A favorite line of mine is “If you think God is your co-pilot, you are sitting in the wrong seat.”

May we all learn to take our seat, focus on the road ahead, and enjoy the ride!

By: Daniel M. FitzPatrick 2019

The 2019 Annual Lay Carmelite Retreat was held at Enders Island in Mystic, Connecticut on the weekend of June 21-23.  Forty-five retreatants from communities throughout Connecticut and New York enjoyed four conferences on “The Psalms” presented by Father Francis Amodio, O. Carm., Provincial Delegate for the Province of St. Elias in Middletown, New York.

“Jesus prayed the psalms, and as a church, we pray the Psalms as we pray the Liturgy of the Hours. This is the prayer of the church. The Psalms are written by and for the people of God,” stated Father Francis. As Carmelites, we are called to meditate on the law of the Lord, which is the Word of God, as outlined in the Rule of St. Albert, chapter 10: “…meditating day and night on the law of The Lord and being vigilant in prayer, unless otherwise lawfully occupied.”

It is customary to have retreats for the Lay Carmelite members each year.  We have celebrated at different retreat centers, however, this year, we were able to experience God at Ender’s Island.  This location with its beautiful view of the water coupled with the quiet, serene beauty of the Island allowed the members and non-members of the order to reflect and recollect on the experience of silence.  The chapel and the grotto near the water were superb!  The staff showed a welcome spirit and the dining was the best that we have ever had on any other retreat.

“Our Lay Carmelite Retreat on Enders Island was truly inspired by the Holy Spirit and was amazing,” stated Karen Szalkiewicz from the Holy Face Community in Middletown, Connecticut.  “Being with our Carmelite brothers and sisters is only an experience that can be felt from your head to the heart.”

Carmel Brown from the Mystical Rose Community in Shelton Connecticut, expressed that there is no better place on earth than Enders Island  “… to appreciate the marvel of God’s beauty, to restore our faith in God, and to realize why we became Carmelites.”

Finally, Maria Paterno from Mary, Mother of the Redeemer Community in Groton, Connecticut, described the retreat at Enders Island as gorgeous and peaceful. “Seeing the beauty and vastness of the ocean makes you appreciate all that God has created for us. Being together in community with our Carmelite family was truly a blessing.”

The beautifully landscaped grounds and great weather created a perfect opportunity to enjoy ice cream during a Saturday afternoon discussion on prayer. Judy Gascoigne, from the Mystical Rose Chapter in Shelton, Connecticut, was especially moved by Father Francis’s reflections about silence.  Being a person who loves silence, she views it is as necessary when living in the presence of God.

Along with Father Francis, the group was blessed to have another Carmelite Friar at the retreat, Father Nicholas Blackwell, O. Carm., who delivered homilies for the Saturday and Sunday masses. Father Nicholas (aka “The Frank Friar”) is a dynamic speaker who has a Website, a Podcast, a blog, and a YouTube channel. His social media ministry brings God and the Carmelite spirituality to the world. Prayer is one of the charisms of the Carmelite Way, so the Liturgy of the Hours, the Rosary, the Divine Mercy Chaplet, and Adoration were prayed throughout the weekend. We are looking forward to our 2020 Lay Carmelite Retreat, which will once again be held on Enders Island on June 12-14.

The Lay Carmelites are part of the Third Order branch of the Carmelite Order.  Lay Carmelites promise to live the Gospel in the contemplative spirit of Carmel including the practice of prayer in all its forms, the Divine Office and Lectio Divina, as well as the other elements of the order’s charism—fraternal community and service. There are six lay Carmelite communities in Connecticut:  Groton, Middletown, Wethersfield, Waterbury, Shelton, and Danbury. New members are always welcome. We are looking forward to our 2020 Lay Carmelite Retreat, which will once again be held on Enders Island on June 12-14.  For further information, please contact Suzanne Henderson, Regional Coordinator, at tocregion2@carmelites.com.