Christ’s light shines through—now and in days to come.
On a Friday night in early April, a rare occurrence took place on the banks of Lake Superior. The beacon on Minnesota’s Split Rock lighthouse lit up the sky for a few hours, an intentional offering of light—hope amid significant darkness.
Lighthouses are, for the most part, historic sites now. Places we visit and images we put on postcards and Facebook covers. But at one time, they provided a vital role in saving lives and ensuring the flow of trade in this region and others.
To stay present while pregnant, these moms expect the unexpected.
For the first seven months of pregnancy, I made the same comment during every doctor’s visit: “I just want a boring pregnancy.”
The youngest of four children with several nieces and nephews, I grew up hearing stories about childbirth—from the uneventful to the near-cataclysmic. Because of these stories, I’ve always had a respectful fear of pregnancy and childbirth and the pain and dangers that can come along with them.
COVID-19 is a persistent reminder that we share the world with others
Trying to write something that would speak to the 2020 election and Catholic voting during this outbreak of novel coronavirus has seemed like an impossible mountain to climb. Is any of us thinking about anything besides the pandemic? Can even the election and the vital questions of citizenship compare to the calamity upon us so suddenly today? But the questions of our public life have not gone away. In fact, they are entirely present to us right now, just in new ways.
What eucharistic challenges and corresponding graces might we see in the present moment?
Things are moving so rapidly it’s difficult to get some perspective. In a span of a few weeks we’ve gone from praying for people elsewhere in the world suffering from the coronavirus to cancelling Masses in our own dioceses for the foreseeable future.
Parishes adopt new ministries to serve communities during the coronavirus pandemic.
At St. Joseph Parish in Seattle, the changes started small. In the early weeks of COVID-19’s quick spread around the country, the parish “tried to be proactive,” says Jesuit Father John Whitney, St. Joseph’s pastor.
Self-possession is a fruit of the Holy Spirit, says St. Paul.
Remember February? That was the month before pandemic ensued. Before the social fabric was made into confetti, tossed in the air, and fluttered back together in novel, largely virtual ways. Back then, in the last yoga class I’d see for a while, a young woman completely lost her Zen.
Seriously: I’ve not witnessed a lack of self-possession like this outside of my family. All of a sudden, in the middle of a warrior pose, this attractive young woman in fashionable leggings started yelling, I mean YELLING, at the guy on the mat next to hers.
Coronavirus has canceled so much already, but it has not stopped love, trust, faith, or hope.
Many of you probably made a Lenten promise last month, but I doubt any of them were total isolation. Yet the first season of Lent, the original 40 days that drew Jesus into the desert, were spent in isolation.
I have 12 rolls of toilet paper. Am I prepared to share the wealth?
I called my mother last night. She’s 91 and lives alone in another state. Because of the COVID-19 state of emergency, I wanted to be sure she was OK and not feeling too anxious. It was reassuring to hear her bubbly laughter over the phone as she reminded me her house always enjoys a stuffed-to-the-gills pantry and refrigerator, virus or no virus. It’s true: Whatever else may happen, Mom won’t starve.