Out of the Tomb

After an epic Lent, Easter has finally come. The earth is teeming with the new life of Spring and we enter into the joyful season at the center of our Catholic faith. Unhappily, we must do so from the confines of our homes. While Christ has risen and left the tomb, many of us are sadly still left, dithering in darkness.

The opportunity of Lent has been recast as a penitential season of suffering and self-mortification. We focus on the justice of God when instead we should’ve spent these past forty days pondering His great love and mercy. The Church gives us that nudge next week on the Feast of Divine Mercy. Lent is an opportunity to start anew, to cast off our vices and poor decisions to better embrace the love and law of God. It’s an annual retreat that gives us a shot at living the live we were called to live and to enjoys its many fruits.

While the tomb may be empty, there are still many trapped, of their own choosing. Jesus stands at the threshold, calling to us, pursuing us in every way He can. Jesus so very deeply desires to see us come back to life, as He did of his friend Lazarus. Jesus wants to destroy death’s grip on us and vanquish the sin that keeps us bound, lying in the dirt, surrounded in the darkness.

Easter is our great wake-up call. This pandemic is our great chance to regain our focus. In a comfortable world with a strong economy, it’s too easy to become lukewarm. It’s too easy to put off the difficult work of constant renewal. It’s too easy to be comfortable with venial sin. It’s too easy to ignore the importance of the Sacraments for our spiritual health.

We must give sin no quarter in our life. In the brilliance of God’s light, there is no room for darkness. Light a candle at night and watch the darkness disappear. This is what God wants for us.

Lent is a time of preparation and now Easter is the great celebration. This is a glimpse into the life God has prepared for us: eternal adoration and praise of His greatness and love, forever united with our loving creator.

If you find yourself this Easter still trapped in sin, having failed to achieve any meaningful reform during our Lenten journey, take courage. God paid too great of a price to give up on us before the very last possible moment. He didn’t go through the agony and grisly torture that is scourging and crucifixion to let you slip out of His grasp.

Don’t waste another moment in the tomb, dead and decaying. Begin the work of renewal now. Return to the loving direction of God’s commandments. Let Him take up your yoke and give you true rest. All of the grace that you need is at your disposal, ready to go to work the moment you accept it.

Lazarus, come out!


Mind Your Diet

We become what we consume. The uncertainty that we all experience now is only intensified when we marinate in the news of the day. To be sure, we all have a part to play. We all need to do what we can to limit the human toll that the current pandemic will take on us. But don’t let it steal your hope.

Emotions are fickle things, and they are easily manipulated. Spend your days intentionally. Check in on the news, don’t bathe in it. Dive instead into your hobbies. Spend quality time rolling around on the ground with your kids. Take your family outside to play and walk and breathe. Read some of those books you’ve always wanted to. Call your friends, write letters, clean off your desk.

All of those things on our lists that we’ve been putting off, we’ve said it’s because we didn’t have enough time. Now we do.

If you sit on the couch all day, scrolling through the news and stress-eating, you’ll succumb to panic and anxiety.

Stay in motion, in action, and plan for the future. Above all else, take inventory of your spiritual health. Make sure you’re placing your trust in God. Expand your prayer life to include things that you haven’t tried in a while. Experiment, communicate, grow in your relationship with God.

There is so much good and hope out in the world. If you can’t find any, look out your window. Spring is in full bloom, the birds are chirping, the flowers are blooming, and the joy of Easter is just six days away.


In the Desert

What a Lent this has been. We’re familiar with the story of Jesus going out into the desert for 40 days, but never before have we had such an acute experience of that kind of isolation. While in the desert, angels ministered to him and Satan tempted him, but he was truly alone. No humans to keep him company.

I will not forget the profound spiritual experience of these last few weeks. I’ve become desensitized to the lull of my modern life. I’ve been unable to walk into a grocery store and have the confidence that I’ll be able to get the supplies that I need. I’ve been unable to ignore the human suffering in my neighborhood and in the world beyond. I’ve been unable to enter into a Church or physically receive the sacraments. I’ve been in the desert.

What’s interesting about the desert is how it clarifies things. It’s easier to discern between wants and needs. It’s easier to discern what things matter most. It’s easier to find time to pray when you have an empty schedule.

Major global events have a way of changing the way that people act, behave, and operate. When things get back to “normal,” they will be different. I hope that this desert spirituality is one of those things that’s different. I hope that the spiritual experience of this time alone redoubles my trust in God. I hope that routine and monotony don’t steal my joy. I hope that I will continue to cultivate my prayer life and seek to do God’s will before my own. I hope that I will bring the desert back into my normal life.


Renewal

Last week kicked off Spring. Not many of us are feeling the usual cheerfulness and refreshment that this change of season brings. Instead, we find ourselves trapped in our homes, separated from the Sacraments, and coming to terms with the fragility of our world.

Bishop Robert Barron, in a short talk posted online about the current pandemic, offered his thoughts on how Catholics should approach this time. Spiritually, we’re at great risk. At a time when most of us spend more time in Churches, and more frequently receive the Sacraments, we find our parishes closed and all gatherings canceled. If we’re not careful, it’ll be all to easy to lose touch with the importance of the daily practice of our faith.

Bishop Barron, however, expressed an optimism about our current state of affairs. His optimism holds that God will do something wonderful in this time. It’s a crisis through which He will bring a purpose. He is not the cause of the pandemic, but in His infinite wisdom, He can find ways to work through it to bring about a greater good.

From my perspective, I see great creativity in the business community. Staid, rigid companies are thinking outside of the box to continue to serve their customers. I see some of that same creativity in the Church. It was only through this crisis that I discovered the wonderful resources on YouTube, to include live-streamed Eucharistic Adoration and pre-recorded celebrations of the Mass.

Getting my three little ones to daily Mass, without backup, in the best of times is a challenge. But getting everyone together to pray as a family and celebrate the Mass at home is a very doable daily objective. I did not even consider that possibility before the quarantine. The same is true for Adoration. I’ve taken my kids a handful of times to our parish’s monthly Adoration. Yet, when we pray together at home, it’s amazing to watch all three little ones settle down in the presence of our Eucharistic Lord.

Just because we’re stuck at home doesn’t mean that we have to be prisoners of our situation. God is reaching out to us in new and unique ways, inviting us to draw closer into His Sacred Heart. He knows the pain, anxiety, and suffering that we’re enduring in this period of uncertainty. He’s inviting us to come to know once again the peace that only He can offer.

I’m spending my days getting caught up on projects around the house that I’ve been neglecting. I spent the weekend deep cleaning our cars, and today sorting and storing kids clothing. Later this week, I’ll head outside to weed the garden, put down fertilizer, and open the yard for summer. In the midst of this time in which I have no commitments and no where to be, I’m finding plenty of opportunity to enjoy this Spiritual Spring.


St. Joseph

While I normally post once per week, I wanted to write today because it’s a special day. While the World grapples with the Coronavirus pandemic and the United States economy grinds to a halt, we find ourselves celebrating the first day of Spring. Panic, fear, and uncertainty run through our minds, while nature seems not to have noticed. My azalea bushes are in full bloom, birds are chirping and building their nests, and the trees bring forth their new leaves.

Today is not just special because we are in the season of renewal. Today is a special day because it’s the Solemnity of St. Joseph. The Church holds this celebratory feast in such high esteem that the practices of Lent are suspended. Priests around the world wear their white chasubles to honor the purity of St. Joseph. The Gloria finds its way back into the sequence of the Mass. Today is a day of rejoicing and celebration in the middle of Lent.

Seven years ago, as I began work on this project, I specifically chose the Solemnity of St. Joseph as the launch date. My first post went live on the morning of March 19, 2013. At the time, I thought it appropriate to launch a blog about the vocation of marriage on the day that the Church honors the prototypical husband. A year later, I published my first book, _The Transition_.

This year, I’ve taken my devotion to St. Joseph to an entirely new level. Although I was given the middle name Joseph at my Baptism, I never developed a true relationship with the silent saint. In January, Fr. Donald Calloway published the book _Consecration to St. Joseph_, a 33 day devotional that, in one of its cycles, reaches its apex today.

For the past 33 days, I’ve been immersed in the theology of St. Joseph. I’ve learned about him, about his apparitions, about his place in the Church, and about the very special relationship he desires to cultivate with me. I’ve learned about his eagerness to point me to his foster son, and how only now is the Church beginning to fully understand and truly embrace his role in salvation history.

I’ve learned about his many titles, including Glory of Domestic Life and Terror of Demons. I’ve learned about how his life and virtue directly correlate not only to my vocation as husband and father, but to my role as a stay-at-home dad. I learned about the privileges of devotion to St. Joseph, including the attainment of virtue, escape from sin, increased love for Mary, the grace of a happy death, filling demons with terror, gaining health of body, and securing the blessing of children. These privileges are not the works of a genie, but gifts from a loving father for the sanctification of his children.

Today, I formalize our bond. Today, I entrust my vocation, health and well-being to his patronage. Today, I consecrate myself to St. Joseph, my spiritual father.

St. Joseph is humble in ways that I will never understand. He lead, protected, and provided for the Holy Family of Nazareth, but he never seeks credit or adoration. He desires nothing more than for the faithful to honor and respect Mary, his wife, and give themselves totally to his son, Jesus Christ.

May this Solemnity, in the midst of a difficult time, be a source of joy, celebration and peace for you and your family. May St. Joseph wrap you in the protection of his cloak and bring your intentions to Jesus. May the work of _Catholic Husband_ continue to be a source of knowledge, inspiration, and guidance for you in the years to come.


Connecting While Isolated

Difficult times for Catholics are here. From the founding of our Church, community has been a central aspect of our faith. We gather, from our many walks of life, on a daily or weekly basis to celebrate the Eucharist, together. Increasingly, civil and health authorities are recommending the suspension of large gatherings. How do we celebrate our communal faith when we’re precluded from gathering in our parishes?

As I think about the timing of this pandemic, I can’t help but be grateful for its timing. Major disruptions are only now beginning, but the advancement of technology in the past three decades allows us to be more connected than ever. Just this morning, I spent time in Eucharistic Adoration with my children by watching a livestream on YouTube.

While we may not be able to physically attend Mass for several weeks, we still have the opportunity to attend Mass every day. Many parishes are live-streaming their liturgies on YouTube, and I’ve even found some YouTube channels that record and upload their daily liturgies. Eucharistic Adoration live-streams are widely available, as are many reflections and homilies.

To be sure, watching Mass on YouTube is very different from attending Mass in person. I feel a sense of separation, having been unable to receive the Eucharist physically. We do have to endure this physical separation for a time. However, our faith can still be vibrantly expressed.

Continue to grow in your faith, find new ways of expression, and keep in prayer the sick and suffering throughout the world. There are many Catholics who are home-bound and rarely able to attend Mass. Let’s remember them in a special way as we share the unity of this burden.


Specter of Pandemic

In late December and early January, the Wuhan virus was a distant trouble. It was an outbreak isolated to a province of China that few of us had ever heard of. As the virus crosses borders and continues to spread, we can now see the clouds forming on our own horizon. No longer is this a problem for people we’ve never met; it’s rapidly approaching our own communities.

I, like most people, have been giving this idea of a global pandemic quite a bit of thought. Covid-19, this new coronavirus, is rather mild. It’s less deadly than other recent outbreaks, such as SARS and Ebola. For many people, they have a mild course and recover. So why is this outbreak so frightening and disruptive?

On the one hand, it’s because we’re defenseless. Modern medicine can provide supportive care, but as of now, it can’t stop it. Vaccines are in development and, hopefully by this time next year, we’ll have one. For right now, all we can do is sit by and watch.

Covid-19 also inspires fear because we still don’t understand it. It’s totally new, and while we understand some of its cousin viruses, we don’t fully understand how this one spreads. Until we do, stopping it will be a major challenge.

All of this brings me back to two thoughts. First, we are called to care about those suffering around the world. If we ourselves cannot go and minister to them, then we must commit our resources to support those who can. Giving to missionary societies or Catholic Relief Services shoudn’t only be done during Lent and at the end of the year. Our help is needed daily. Second, this is a perfect reminder of the theological virtue of hope. Hope is the belief that God will do all that He has promised. Trying closely into the virtue of hope is the necessity to place our trust in God. God is our provider and He alone sustains us.

These are challenging times, and while there is hope that we will soon have a handle on this pandemic, its effects are likely to be felt in the months to come. In this season of Lent and this time of uncertainty we have the perfect reminder to place our trust in a God who loves and cares for us.


Kids and Lent

I’m always caught off guard by my kids gaining new abilities. They rarely tell me that they’re ready to take on new challenges. Then one day, O ask them to do a job, and they just go off and do it. Teaching them about our faith happens in the same way.

Kids experience tremendous growth from year to year. So as we start Lent and the springtime of the Church, your kids and mine are probably ready for deeper spiritual experiences than they were last year. It also means that we are in the perfect position to teach them the truth about Lent.

Lent is a penitential season, but it’s also one of preparation for the greatest joy of the year. Think of it like spring cleaning your yard. After the harshness of winter, weeds crop up, sticks that feel lay in the yard, and the flowerbeds are a mess. We spend time, working hard, to bring our yard back up to standards. We do this so that we can see the flowers and fruits blossom and grow as a result of our work.

Lent is spring cleaning of our souls. It’s an annual reminder that we need to drop what must be dropped and eliminate what must be eliminated. We don’t do it for sadistic purposes, but as a part of our process of constant renewal. We shouldn’t present Lent to our children as a season of sacrifice, but rather as a season of preparation. Sacrifice is a part of that preparation and they help us to refine ourselves, even if it means giving up temporarily something that God has given to us.

Catholicism and theological principles are never easy to break down for children, but our kids are incredibly receptive listeners. Thankfully, at the center of the teachings of the Church are simple truths. We are fallen creatures, and Lent is an annual opportunity to get rid of the clutter in our spiritual lives.


Let Us Go to God’s House

I spent a few hours on Saturday morning at a men’s retreat. The theme of this year’s retreat was “faith alive.” As a part of Morning Prayer, we prayed Psalm 122. In that Psalm, the people are rejoicing because they are going to God’s house.

Every week, thousands of Chinese citizens flout their authoritarian government to attend underground Catholic Churches. They risk arbitrary arrest and detention because they are aflame with the Spirit and they are totally committed to life as a Catholic Christian.

Yet in the West, where the practice of our faith involves little risk, people are streaming out of the Church. We’ve fallen into the trap of complacency. Most Catholics in America don’t even bother to make it to Mass every week, or even every month. We squander the riches of our faith that so many have fought and died to live out to the fullest.

The Psalmist describes people who are overcome with joy at the mere suggestion that they got to the temple. It’s time for us to wake up from our deep slumber and let that joy fill our hearts on Sunday mornings once again. Lent is a great time to spark that fire.


Teaching Kids Why

Our society is suffering from an intellectual sickness. We lack curiosity. Ideas are no longer challenged and explored, but instead are accepted on their face. This lack of curiosity is leading many to believe the false notion that faith has no role to play in the life of the post-modern man.

Teaching my kids anything, let alone the truth and beauty of Catholicism, is challenging. I have to find a way to clearly and succinctly express an idea, while ensuring that I’ve broken it down into a way that they can grasp. There are many resources to help me, but at the end of the day, my kids receive the message from me.

I was talking to a friend recently, and we discusses the idea that it’s no longer enough to teach the faith from a standpoint of authority. It’s not enough to share the truth, but we must share the why behind it. Too many people walk away from the Church each year. If they only had a spark of curiosity, they’d be led to the beautiful why behind every practice and tenet.

I’m not sure the best way to help my children learn to appreciate and refine their sense of curiosity. I do know that if I can spark that interest in them, they will eventually find what they’re seeking. It’s not enough to give them the Magisterium as as justification for why we believe what we believe. I must also give them the why for our joy.