Archive for the ‘Saintly People’ Category

Our King’s Chief Steward

August 22, 2026

21st Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

Seven centuries before Christ, Judea’s most powerful government official beneath the king was a man named Shebna. He was called the “master of the palace,” literally “the one who is over the house.” Some modern translations call him the “royal steward” or the king’s “prime minister.” The master of the palace for a Davidic king would wear a robe and sash and carry a large key over his shoulder. A kingdom’s great gates and doors required massive locks, and large keys were used to open and close them. Like awarding someone today “The Key to the City,” the key on the royal steward’s shoulder was a sign of honor; however, it was also a sign of real authority, since the master of the palace could command others under the king. He controlled entry into the royal palace and therefore controlled who had access to the king. He managed the kingdom’s wealth and lands, and would govern during periods of the king’s absence. How vast was the master of the palace’s power in the kingdom? He wielded extraordinary power, but if he were to command something which the king disapproved of, the king could readily remove and replace him.

Our first reading from the Prophet Isaiah contains an oracle from the Lord declaring that Shebna would be thrown down from his office. The word of the Lord begins by noting how Shebna had had a luxurious tomb dug for himself while the kingdom was still under threat from the Assyrians. (That tomb was likely rediscovered in Jerusalem’s eastern slope in 1870; its burial inscription for one “who is over the house” is preserved today in the British Museum.) The Lord asks Shebna, “You have hewn for yourself a tomb here, hewing a tomb on high, carving a resting place in the rock?” The Lord was greatly displeased with Shebna’s stewardship, declaring, “I will thrust you from your office and pull you down from your station.” And the Lord had already chosen his replacement: “On that day I will summon my servant Eliakim, son of Hilkiah; I will clothe him with your robe, gird him with your sash, confer on him your authority. He shall be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and to the house of Judah. I will place the key of the House of David on his shoulder; what he opens, no one will shut, what he shuts, no one will open. I will fix him as a peg in a firm place, a seat of honor…”

Now fast-forward to the time of Christ’s public ministry. Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” And his disciple, Simon the fisherman, replies, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus says to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter…” Jesus changes Simon’s name literally to “Rock.” The name “Peter” or “Petros” is unseen as a personal name in the ancient world until Jesus gives this name to Simon. And God changed people’s names very rarely in salvation history, just Abraham, Sarah, Jacob, and here with Simon; so we know this is a big deal. Then Jesus declares, “[U]pon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

Perhaps you now already recognize the revealing parallels here. Shebna had hewn a tomb for his death in the rock of Old Jerusalem. Peter is the rock upon which will be built the New Jerusalem, Christ’s life-giving Church. Eliakim (Shebna’s replacement) would receive “the key of the House of David on his shoulder,” such that, “what he opens, no one will shut, [and] what he shuts, no one will open.” Simon Peter receives “the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven,” such that, ‘whatever he binds on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever he looses on earth shall be loosed in heaven.’ So both receive kingdom keys and a chief steward’s authority. Eliakim was given “a seat of honor,” fixed “as a peg in a firm place,” but he would not be the last or final royal steward. Others after Eliakim would occupy his same office as prime minister to the Davidic king. St. Peter was given a seat of honor and great responsibility in the Kingdom of God by the new Davidic King, Jesus Christ. And the early Church considered the successors to St. Peter as bishop of Rome to be inheritors of his office. Eliakim was, in the words of the Lord, “a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and to the house of Judah.” We call St. Peter and his successors “popes,” a word related to “papa” or “daddy.” And popes are “Holy Fathers” for the household of God, the Church.

Is it possible for a pope to sin, to give bad example, or to manage Church affairs poorly? Certainly. But Jesus’ assurance that whatever his chief steward binds on earth would be bound in heaven guarantees the pope will never bind his Church to heresies. We see how various Christians can read one and the same Bible verse and produce many contradicting interpretations. Christ knew that without a clear and reliable teaching authority for his Church we would inevitably scatter like sheep without a shepherd. So say a prayer for Pope Leo, our successor to St. Peter who governs Christ’s one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. And give thanks to God that his chief steward, guarded by the Holy Spirit, provides the Catholic Church a rock foundation until the return of Christ our King.

Sent Into The Wind

August 8, 2026

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.” Jesus “made” the apostles get into the boat and depart. In the Greek, Jesus “made them / compelled them / constrained them” to go. Why were they so reluctant to leave? It could simply be that they did not want to be apart from Jesus, but there may be another reason for their hesitation.

Peter, Andrew, James, and John were experienced fishermen who had worked many nights on those Sea of Galilee waters. Jesus was asking them to sail a few miles west across the sea toward Capernaum. When they felt the evening air and looked at the western sky, perhaps they foresaw that the wind and the waves could be strong that night. Besides leaving Jesus behind, the apostles might have been reluctant to be out on the water. Nevertheless, he commanded and they went.

After doing so, [Jesus] went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When it was evening he was there alone. Meanwhile the boat, already a considerable distance offshore, was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it.

When I visited Israel ten years ago this fall, it was great to gain a truer sense of sites I had read about in Scripture, like the compactness of the Old City of Jerusalem or the relative smallness of the Sea of Galilee. When you envision “the Sea of Galilee,” perhaps you imagine the view across an ocean or one of our Great Lakes where the opposite shores are out of sight beyond the horizon. But in comparison to them, the Sea of Galilee is tiny. Even Wisconsin’s Lake Winnebago is 30 miles in length while the Sea of Galilee, north to south, is just 13 miles. When you stand on its rocky shores you can see the various low mountains surrounding it. Sitting on one of those hillsides a person could watch a boat as it sailed across the sea to the opposite shore.

Jesus was praying alone on a mountainside. The apostles did not see Jesus with them but he was watching them and prayed for them as they were tossed about by waves and sailed against the wind. Likewise, even when we are struggling in the dark, Jesus sees us and intercedes for us.

During the fourth watch of the night, [between 3 and 6 AM,] Jesus came toward them walking on the sea. When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. ‘It is a ghost,’ they said, and they cried out in fear. At once Jesus spoke to them, ‘Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.’”

In the Gospels, Jesus arguably says variations of “Fear not / Be not afraid” more frequently than he says anything else. And notice how that is not merely his suggestion; it’s a command. Jesus does not want fears preventing us from having peace and doing his will. Peter acted boldly, at least at first. He asked and was invited to walk with Jesus on the water. “But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ Jesus immediately stretched out his hand and caught Peter, and said to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’ After [Peter and Jesus] got into the boat, the wind died down.

Now here is what struck me most when I read this story this time around. Jesus did not have to send his disciples out across that chaotic sea; he chose to. And as he watched them struggle against the wind and waves, Jesus could have commanded the forces of nature to be still as he did on another occasion with the sea; but this time he chose not to. Jesus is able to walk on water and he welcomes Peter to join him, giving his disciple an opportunity to exercise his trust and virtues. When Peter falters, Jesus pulls him up, and once they reboard the boat together, the wind dies down; for it had served its providential purpose.

Jesus Christ’s will for us in this life is not endless ease. Rather, he desires our greatness. For that purpose, he sends us and calls us to places we might not wish to go; permitting challenges for our greater good and glory. Truly, as his disciples said, Jesus Christ is the Son of God. He sees us, he’s almighty, and he loves us. So why ever be afraid?

Mourning With Jesus

August 1, 2026

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

He was persecuted for preaching the truth. Though he had done nothing wrong, he was hated. They arrested and imprisoned this righteous and holy man, and when questioned, his answers would confound the questioner. The secular ruler was reluctant to put this man to death, but in the end, bowing to social pressure, he ordered his unjust execution. After his death, his disciples took their teacher’s body, laid it in a tomb, and mourned him. This death, this murder, this martyrdom of St. John the Baptist was mourned by Jesus too.

Recall that John the Baptist was Jesus’ relative and friend. In John’s Passion and death, Jesus could see a foreshadowing of his own. Jesus weeps at the tomb of Lazarus, but Lazarus died from a natural illness and was resurrected soon after. John the Baptist’s death was caused by the wicked, the direct result of chosen sins. And Jesus mourned him realizing he would never see John again in this life.

When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. The crowds heard of this and followed him on foot from their towns.” When Jesus arrived, “disembarked, and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick.” Then Jesus fed them all using five loaves of bread and two fish; the only miracle (besides his Resurrection) which is recorded by all four Gospels. Then Jesus “made the disciples get into the boat and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. Then [Jesus] went up on the mountain by himself to pray, [and] when it was evening, he was there by himself.

Jesus and his disciples experienced times of mourning. We and our loved ones will experience times of mourning, too. In today’s Gospel, Jesus Christ, our model for our Christian life, provides us lessons for such seasons.

First, Jesus took time to mourn and it was not selfish for him to do so. He withdrew to mourn and spend time alone, but in that solitude he prayed. Many psalms and Old Testament scenes have God’s faithful voicing their painful laments to God. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, even though he was divine, prayed to God as man. He did this for personal consolation and that others would be helped. Remember to pray for the souls of the departed and feel free to speak to them, for I am convinced that not even death can entirely separate those who are in Christ.

When Jesus arrived at that desolate place and found the large crowd, his heart was moved with pity. Without suggesting any fault in Jesus, sometimes our sufferings can make us more sensitive to the sufferings of others. Jesus does not close in on himself. He goes outside himself to serve others. How do you think it felt for Jesus to help so many (perhaps while experiencing feelings of such powerlessness)? It was a consolation to him. Going out beyond ourselves can help in healing a mournful heart.

Sometimes when we know someone is mourning, we give them so much respectful space they end up being treated like lepers. The crowds (whether conscious of Jesus’ burdens or not) approached him like before and those encounters blessed them both. So do not be afraid to ask them a favor, offer an invite, or give them a gift; since we see such things can help them. And if they decline, don’t take it personally. Jesus’ friends brought him a meal of five loaves and two fish, and doing that did a world of good.

Jesus experienced times of mourning and we will too. Take time to mourn in solitude but keep close company with God in prayer and pray for the departed. Do not simply close in on yourself but go beyond yourself for others. And approach those who are mourning to offer healthy encounters and opportunities. It pained Jesus to be so tragically separated from his dear one, John, but Christ promises God’s people who mourn will be comforted. And these trials make us more like Jesus Christ, who consoles others. As St. Paul told the Corinthians: “[God] comforts us in all of our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” Jesus mourned like us. Let us mourn like him.

Loving Jesus Is Rewarded

June 27, 2026

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

An Army private gets called in by his commanding officer for reportedly sleeping while on duty at his guard post:
But sir, I wasn’t sleeping, honest—I was just keeping my eyes closed!
Private, it’s your solemn duty not to let anyone to get past you!
Yes sir, I keep my eyes closed so that nobody can bribe me!

In today’s Gospel, Jesus presents two lessons back-to-back; lest, understanding only half of his message, we would reach a dangerous conclusion like that Army private. First, Jesus insists that we must keep him as our top priority. We must be even more devoted to Jesus Christ than to our parents, or to our children, or to our own personal comfort.

Jesus tells his apostles: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.” In fact, it is only by first and foremost loving our Lord that we can have the wisdom and grace to love our family, our friends, and ourselves as each deserves. Whoever seeks goals apart from the Lord will lose them along with this life, but whoever seeks the Lord’s goals will gain from them along with eternal life. As Jesus says, “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” This passage marks Jesus’ transition to his second major lesson in this Gospel: that deeds done in his service will be richly rewarded.

Jesus says, “Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me. Whoever receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever receives a righteous man because he is a righteous man will receive a righteous man’s reward. And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because the little one is a disciple amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.” The things we do for Jesus, especially for him veiled within our neighbor, will surely be rewarded.

So Jesus presents to us with two important lessons, side-by-side. If we only heard that Jesus expects be our top priority, we might despair, thinking he is practically impossible to please. And if we only heard that Jesus rewards good deeds, we might become presumptuous, thinking God can be bribed or bought off by occasional gestures without true devotion. Rather, we should hold Jesus as our dear Lord while remembering that he will richly reward even the smallest things we do for him.

The young St. Therese of Lisieux, “The Little Flower,” dedicated herself to doing even little things for Jesus with great love. She called this her “Little Way” to holiness. In her highly-recommended autobiography “Story of a Soul” she writes: “Miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love.” “You know well enough that our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of our actions, nor even at their difficulty, but at the love with which we do them.” “Without love, deeds, even the most brilliant, count as nothing.” “To pick up a pin for love can convert a soul.” So we should not close our eyes to our solemn duty to Jesus, for if we love and serve him even in small ways we shall see his great rewards.

Christ Connectors

June 13, 2026

11th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

In a room of 23 randomly-selected people, what are the odds of any two of them sharing a birthday? In other words, what are the odds of at least two of those 23 people not necessarily being the same age but having their birthday on the same day of the calendar? Amazingly, the odds of this happening are a little more than 50-50. This is known as “The Birthday Paradox.” It only takes 23 random people to have 50-50 odds at least two folks match a birthday. And in a room of 75 random people there’s a 99.9% chance of at least two people matching. In America’s 250-year history, 45 different men have been U.S. President and 22 of them (48%) share first names with another U.S President. I mention these surprising stats because of the names of Jesus’ chosen apostles in today’s Gospel.

The names of the twelve apostles are these: first, Simon [whom Jesus renamed Peter] and his brother Andrew; James the son of Zebedee and his brother John; Philip and Bartholomew, Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James the son of Alphaeus, and Thaddeus [also known as Judas or Jude]; Simon from Cana, and Judas Iscariot who betrayed him.

So among these twelve men we find two Simons, two Jameses, and two Judases. But from what I said before, we should not be too surprised something like this would happen. Look at how many women in the Gospels are named Mary: there’s Mary the mother of Jesus, there’s Mary Magdalene from the town of Magdala, there’s Mary the sister of Martha and Lazarus from Bethany, and there’s Mary the wife of Clopas, the mother of James the Less and Joses. The name “Mary” was actually the most common name among the region’s Jewish females at that time, belonging to about 1-in-4 women. Now imagine if you were going to lie and simply invent the story of a fictional guy and his closest followers. Would you give them duplicate names or call about half of all the female-named characters Mary? No — Jesus’ disciples have these names because these were their names. These were the historical people closely-involved in Jesus’ public ministry.

In today’s Gospel, we see imagery drawn from the agriculture of that rural historical setting. Jesus’ heart is moved with pity for the crowd, for they are “like sheep without a shepherd.” Jesus tells his disciples: “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.” And when Jesus chooses the Twelve and sends them on mission, he says: “Go… to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” In his preaching and parables, Jesus commonly mentions plants and fields, sheep and shepherds. Earlier, when Jesus was recruiting fishermen to be his disciples, he told them, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” (I suspect if Jesus’ public ministry had happened in Wisconsin, he would have made references to dairy cows and snow.) Jesus used examples close at hand to connect with the rest of humanity. Jesus uses the people he finds close at hand to connect him with others, too.

The harvest is still abundant and the laborers are still too few. Many people are away from Christ’s Church and few work to bring them back. So pray, asking the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest, and consider how he is calling you to help. Our Church and world needs priestly vocations and religious vocations. And if that is your calling, then that is the best thing you can do in your life. But realize you do not need to be ordained or take religious vows to help bring people to Jesus Christ and his Church. Intercede for the conversion of souls in daily prayer. Be unashamed and faithfully Catholic in everyday life. Answer peoples’ questions. Invite them to explore our Faith. Be bold — their souls may depend upon it. Jesus called the Simons, Jameses, Judases, and Marys of his day to play important parts in his salvific plan. Jesus would do the same with us today. Like we see in the “Birthday Paradox,” more new connections are possible for the Kingdom than you might at first imagine, both through Divine Providence and by simply showing up for Jesus.

The Thirsty Fountain

March 7, 2026

3rd Sunday of Lent
By Fr. Victor Feltes

When the Samaritan woman in John’s Gospel meets Jesus at the well, he says to her, “Give me a drink.” She replies with surprise that he, a Jew, would ask her, a Samaritan woman, for a drink (since Jews used nothing in common with Samaritans). And then Jesus says to her, “If you knew the gift of God and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” So Jesus thirsts, and yet at the same time he says he has water to offer her. Jesus in his human nature experienced natural thirst for natural drink, noting “everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again.” But Jesus adds “the water I shall give… will become in [a person] a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” Later in John’s Gospel, in Jerusalem during a Jewish feast, Jesus stands up and exclaims, “Let anyone who thirsts come to me and drink.” But then, on Good Friday as he hangs upon his Cross, Jesus says, “I thirst.” And when he died and was pierced in the side, “immediately blood and water flowed out.” Thus, Jesus may be called the “Thirsty Fountain.”

St. Teresa of Calcutta, foundress of the Missionaries of Charity, had Jesus’ words “I Thirst” placed beside the crucifix inside of every one of their chapels. Psalm 22 prophesied about Christ’s sufferings when it said, “As dry as a potsherd is my throat; my tongue cleaves to my palate… They have pierced my hands and my feet.” But Mother Teresa recognized that when Jesus said “I Thirst” on the Cross, he spoke of something more profound than merely his physical dehydration. As Jesus pours himself out for us, he thirsts to love us and to be loved by us. In a letter to her religious community in March of 1993, Mother Teresa wrote: “‘I thirst’ is something much deeper than Jesus just saying ‘I love you.’ Until you know deep inside that Jesus thirsts for you – you can’t begin to know who He wants to be for you. Or who He wants you to be for Him.” And such reflections did not only originate with Mother Teresa. For instance, St. Gregory Nazianzen wrote in the 4th century, “God is thirsting to be my thirst.

The Samaritan woman at the wall balked at Jesus’ first words to her (“Give me a drink”) for she thought, ‘How could a Jew want anything from me?’ We, likewise, might resist the idea that God would want us. He is infinite while we are finite. He is perfect while we are flawed. How could God, complete and happy in himself, ever desire us? It is not from any necessity or lack within God. It was not necessary for God create us. And God was not morally obliged to redeem us from sin and death. But “God is love,” and we see that Infinite Divine Love likes to overflow for others. St. Paul wrote to the Romans that “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.”

Other people may resist the idea of Christ thirsting for their souls, not due to philosophical or theological objections, but because they find the idea hard to personally connect with, as happens with other inspired Christian metaphors. For instance, the Church is Christ the Bridegroom’s the beloved Bride whom he cherishes and protects that she might be holy and beautiful. That imagery may feel more relatable to women than men. At the same time, men may more readily relate to the call for all Christians to be priests, prophets, and kings in Christ; sanctifying, teaching, servant-leading as other Christs. If Jesus longing for your soul feels too romantic in connotation, remember how our Lord eagerly longs to lead heroes and heroines. The saints are his friends who are willing to sacrifice in his service. “Only with difficulty does one die for a just person, though perhaps for a good person one might even find courage to die.” Jesus longs for souls who, with the courage and grace he outpours, are willing to lay down their lives for him as he laid down his life for us.

In conclusion, increase your thirst for Christ who thirsts for you, and drink deeply of the peace, virtue, wisdom, and love which flow out from him. You will never exhaust that Divine Fountain.

Momentous Memories

January 18, 2026

2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

In this Sunday’s Gospel, St. John the Baptist remembers the experience that revealed Jesus Christ to him. John declares, “The one who sent me to baptize with water told me, ‘On whomever you see the Spirit come down and remain, he is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ … The reason why I came baptizing with water was that he might be made known to Israel.” John recounts how after baptizing Jesus in the Jordan River, “I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from heaven and remain upon him. … Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God.”

John the Baptist was Jesus’ relative and their parents (at least Mary, Elizabeth and Zachariah) had known each other. And in last Sunday’s Gospel reading, John at first refused to baptize Jesus, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?” Yet John remarks twice in today’s Gospel, “I did not know him.” In what sense did John not know Jesus? Perhaps, since they had lived separate lives for many years, John did not recognize him about whom his parents had presumably spoken until Jesus introduced himself. Or perhaps, as St. Augustine suggests, John knew certain things about Jesus but not others—specifically, that Jesus was the one who would baptize with the Holy Spirit, whom it was John’s mission to reveal.

The other three Gospel accounts of Jesus’ baptism likewise note the Holy Spirit’s descent in the likeness of a dove, but they also mention how the voice of God the Father was heard speaking from heaven while John does not. Mark and Luke record those words from heaven as “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased,” while Matthew records the words slightly differently: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Maybe these are just equivalent expressions, since either statement implies the other. Or, maybe Jesus heard the proclamation one way while those nearby heard it differently, like later at Pentecost when those in the crowd heard a simultaneous proclamation in different languages.

But why doesn’t John’s Gospel include the voice of God the Father speaking at Jesus’ baptism? Maybe the author reasoned that that detail was already sufficiently established by each of the earlier Gospels. (For instance, John’s Gospel does not include Jesus saying “this is my Body” at the Last Supper like Matthew, Mark, and Luke; but John does share the Bread of Life Discourse, in which Jesus says the Bread he will give for us to eat is really his flesh.) Or maybe the author of John’s Gospel did not want to invite any misunderstanding about when God the Father spoke the Eternal Word, his Son. The Sonship of Jesus did not begin on the day of his baptism (as some “adoptionist” heresies claimed); he is eternally begotten.

Yet however much John knew before Jesus’ baptism or whatever words he heard from heaven, after beholding the Holy Spirit come down and land upon Jesus, John the Baptism knew that Jesus Christ was the one whom he was sent to proclaim and make known. That core experience of St. John the Baptist was a powerful support for him in times of hardship thereafter. When he sat in Herod’s dungeon and faced a martyr’s death, remembering what he himself had seen and learned strengthened him through his trials. The same can be said of St. Paul the Apostle. His encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus changed the course of his life forever. Even as Paul suffered emotional burdens and physical deprivations, beatings, stonings, shipwrecks, and imprisonments, he could return to that momentous memory and be renewed to joyfully endure in his God-entrusted mission.

What have been your core experiences of the Lord our God? How has he reveal to you his goodness, love, and power? Those personal experiences remain real and true and they’re memories for you to revisit for your inspiration, consolation, and strength—and you should. If you cannot recall any such occasions in your life, I invite you to pray to Jesus Christ, St. John the Baptist, and St. Paul the Apostle to be gifted these precious and powerful experiences, for whoever asks receives; and whoever seeks, finds; and for whomever knocks, the door will be opened.

A River of Life

January 12, 2026

Baptism of the Lord
By Fr. Victor Feltes

When you think of the Jordan River, you maybe imagine a broad and impressive body of water, but you could toss a rock from one bank of the Jordan River to the other. Yet, unlike the many streams and rivers flowing through our green countryside, the Jordan River is one of very few which pass through that mostly arid land. This is the body of water Jesus chose for his baptism; a humble river of life flowing through a desert. Joshua had led God’s Old Covenant people into the earthly Promised Land through this river. Jesus, the new Joshua, leads God’s New Covenant people into the true Promised Land through his holy baptism.

Jesus did not need John’s baptism for himself. John the Baptist perceived this too and tried to prevent him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?” But Jesus insisted, so John relented, “to fulfill all righteousness.” Jesus is baptized not to be made holy by the water but to make the water holy, so that this most plentiful substance upon the face of the earth could be used in Christ’s gateway sacrament all throughout the world. Jesus was baptized to allow us to be united to him through baptism.

The water, the decent of the Spirit, and the voice of the Father all reflect effects of Christian baptism. Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan reflects what occurred for you and me when we were baptized. Through baptism, our souls were cleansed, the grace of the Holy Spirit was imparted to us, and we were acknowledged as a beloved children of God. Perhaps we take these things for granted: that sins can be forgiven, that the divine can dwell within us, that we can be more than mere slaves to the transcendent God of the universe, that we can be treasured sons and daughters of God. We must remember and appreciate these things, for things that go unappreciated can be neglected to our loss.

The Jordan River flows about 150 miles on the eastern border of Israel, south from the Sea of Galilee down into the Dead Sea. These bodies of water present a spiritual allegory. They symbolize a spiritual reality. The Sea of Galilee is a large freshwater lake full of life. Its water pours out into the Jordan River, and this river flows through the desert to bless its shores with life. But these waters ultimately descent 700 vertical feet down into the Dead Sea, to the lowest place on earth, where it has no place else to go. So there the water sits, evaporating away in the heat, leaving behind trace amounts of salt, which overtime causes the Dead Sea be extremely salty, permitting no plants, fish, or other visible life to live. The pure waters from above, received through the holy stream, bear no life in that recipient. Likewise, the sacraments offer grace from above, through a stream of living water, but in the unrepentant soul they bear no life.

If you are in grave sin, for God’s sake, for your sake, and the sake of those around you, repent and be reconciled to God through his Sacrament of Confession. On Saturday, I had the pleasure of celebrating the first Confessions of our second graders. They were a bit nervous beforehand, but afterwards when I asked them how they felt they answered: ‘Good! Great! Awesome!’ Besides the joy of a cleansed soul and conscience, something that Confession gives is a new beginning, the strength and focus to begin anew. Jesus desires for his graces to flow through you as a fruitful blessing in this spiritually-arid world.

The words of Isaiah in our first reading point to Christ, and you are in Christ because of your baptism. So Isaiah’s inspired words are spoken of every soul in a state of grace: Thus says the Lord: “You are my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one with whom I am pleased, upon whom I have put my spirit; I, the LORD, have called you for the victory of justice, I have grasped you by the hand; I formed you… a light for the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to bring out prisoners from confinement [and darkness.]”

You might not be called to cry out or shout, making your voice heard in the streets, breaking this and crushing that. But Jesus wants to use you as his powerful instrument to work transforming good in this world. The Lord is still quietly saving souls through his faithful ones, who receive his graces and pour them forth. Cooperate with him for this; for him, for yourself, and for the good of many.

The Embarrassments of the Magi

January 3, 2026

Feast of the Epiphany
By Fr. Victor Feltes

How often do you feel awkward or embarrassed? I think the Magi felt that way repeatedly in today’s Gospel story.

Who were the Magi? Ancient civilizations east of Israel (such as the Persians and Babylonians) bestowed upon their men of learning the title “Magus.” The Magi we commemorate this day (traditionally identified as Saints Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar) apparently studied the heavens—a useful skill for tracking the rainy seasons and deciding when to plant and harvest. The visionary Jewish Prophet Daniel, six centuries before Christ, had served as a wise man in Babylon. Perhaps he left behind instructions about the star to watch for as the signal of the Messiah’s birth.

Some speculate the Star of Bethlehem was a comet, others say it was a supernova, but given the clues in the text and in history the best explanation suggests it was a planet seen in some unique position relative to the other lights of heaven. This is plausible because the ancients regarded the planets as ‘wandering stars’ moving across the fixed constellations. The word “planet” comes from the Greek word for “wanderer.” But whatever sign the Magi beheld, it convinced them a new heir to the Jewish throne was born. So they packed valuable gifts and traveled far from their homeland to honor this newborn king.

St. Matthew records, “When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, Magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, ‘Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.’” But there was no newborn king be found there; at least, no baby in Herod’s household descended from King David, as the Jewish scripture prophesies required for the Christ. This surprised the Magi and perhaps they doubted themselves. “Did we misread the stars? Was the wisdom we were following merely a myth? Did we come all this way for nothing?” But then there was a new ray of hope.

Herod called the Magi secretly and ascertained from them the time of the star’s appearance. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, ‘Go and search diligently for the child. When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage.’” After their audience with the king, they set out on the short journey from Jerusalem to Bethlehem. “And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them…” This was a sign reconfirming their mission, and “they were overjoyed at seeing the star…” The star somehow “came and stopped over the place where the child was. …And on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother. They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

This house in Bethlehem was far humbler than Herod’s great palace. And if even the Magi were not embarrassed to lay face down upon that lowly floor, it must have felt awkward for the Magi to present the luxury gifts they had brought to this needy family. Rather than incense or gum resin, the Holy Family could have gotten more use from blankets, baby clothes, or a goat. But this seeming mistake was providential. The Magi’s gift of gold would come in handy later when the Holy Family was hiding away in Egypt. And besides that gold for a King, the other gifts of the Magi were prophetically symbolic: frankincense, used in temple worship, for a High Priest and Deity; and myrrh, used in Jewish embalming, for a Savior born to die and rise.

And [then the Magi,] having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, …departed for their country by another way.” Did the Magi share this dream with the Holy Family before departing? If not, how did St. Matthew ever learn of this detail? Regardless, if the Magi recognized a warning of danger in this dream, they may have felt mortified again that their visit to Bethlehem may have placed a target on the Holy Family’s backs. The Magi’s mission had announced in Jerusalem the birth of Christ, but it also led to the flight of the Holy Family to Egypt and Herod’s massacre of the innocents. Yet even Herod’s freely-chosen evil was foreseen by God, who received the souls of his Holy Innocents as martyrs for Christ and fulfilled what was foretold through the Prophet Hosea: “Out of Egypt I called my Son.”

We do not know what this new year ahead holds for us. And like the Magi, sometimes our honest efforts will produce experiences of awkwardness and embarrassment, problems and seeming failures. But even if we don’t always know what we are doing, the Lord knows what he is doing. So strive to please and serve him, and never give up on your life journey’s mission. For just as he did with the Magi, the Lord will incorporate all of our faithful efforts into his great providential story.

How Did St. Luke Know?

January 1, 2026

Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God
By Fr. Victor Feltes

At the Annunciation, when the Archangel Gabriel greeted Mary using an exalted title, saying “Hail, highly favored one! The Lord is with you,” Luke records that the Virgin Mary “was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.” Nine months later, after the visit of the shepherds at Christmas, today’s Gospel reading says “Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.” And then twelve years after that, when the boy Jesus was found in the temple and he said, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Mary did not understand what Jesus said to them, but Luke records “his mother kept all these things in her heart.” Mary pondered, reflected on, and all kept these things in her heart. That raises a question: how did St. Luke know these facts to include them in his Gospel?

Did Luke have mystical visions? Did God infuse him with hidden knowledge? That is not how St. Luke describes how he wrote his Gospel. He writes: “Since many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the events that have been fulfilled among us, just as those who were eyewitnesses from the beginning and ministers of the word have handed them down to us, I too have decided, after investigating everything accurately anew, to write it down in an orderly sequence for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may realize the certainty of the teachings you have received.” So St. Luke investigated, he did research for his Gospel, and probably interviewed first century eyewitnesses to the events he records. How would folks naturally come to know what Mary pondered, reflected upon, and kept within her heart? By her telling people. That is why some call the early chapters of Luke’s Gospel “The Memoirs of Mary.”

When people pick up praying the Holy Rosary for the first time, their focus tends to be on saying the right words and tracking the beads. But as they get more experienced and comfortable, their focus can shift toward each of the mysteries, and contemplate their deeper meanings and implications. Is it any surprise that the Holy Spirit would providentially promote into history’s most popular Marian devotion the pondering, reflecting upon, and holding in our hearts the events of salvation history? The Holy Rosary is a transforming contemplation with Mary upon the great things God has done.

Besides praying more Rosaries this year, I suggest more contemplation at the end of each day. Ask the Holy Spirit to show you the victories and failures from the day, to give thank and praise and ask pardon and new strength. Such daily self-examinations (or examens) are recommended by saints for spiritual growth. And as one year ends and a new year begins, I suggest devoting some time to pondering like Mary. Reflect upon the past year and consider the year ahead, holding in your heart all the good things which are yours in Christ.

Holy Family Lessons

December 28, 2025

Feast of the Holy Family
By Fr. Victor Feltes

Modern popes (including St. Paul VI, St. John Paul the Great, and Benedict XVI) have reflected upon and recommend the Holy Family of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus as a model, an example, for all Christian families to contemplate and learn from. This morning I wish to share some insights for children and parents, husbands and wives, drawn from the Holy Family. First, a reflection on Jesus in relationship to his parents.

The Archangel Gabriel told Mary at the Annunciation, “Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus.” Then, when an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream he said, “[Mary, your wife,] will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus…” And St. Luke records that indeed, “when eight days were completed for his circumcision, he was named Jesus…” So Jesus was named by both Joseph and Mary, though his name originated with God. Adam was given authority in the Garden of Eden, reflected by him authoring the names of his wife Eve and all the animals. Jesus’ mother and foster-father were likewise given authority over him, and Luke writes that Jesus “was obedient to them.”

We just heard Sirach’s words that “God sets a father in honor over his children; [and] a mother’s authority he confirms over her sons,” and we heard St. Paul urging “Children, obey your parents in everything, for this is pleasing to the Lord.” St. Paul notes elsewhere that amongst the Ten Commandments, “Honor your father and mother” is the first commandment with a promise—“so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.” And Sirach observes that those who revere and honor their parents receive many earthly and heavenly blessings.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that “as they grow up, children should continue to respect their parents. They should anticipate their wishes, willingly seek their advice, and accept their just admonitions.” It says, “obedience toward parents ceases with the emancipation of the children; [but] not so respect, which is always owed to them.” And “as much as they can, [children] must give [parents] material and moral support in old age and in times of illness, loneliness, or distress.” Jesus supported his parents in the Holy Family. St. Joseph is the patron saint of a happy death because Jesus and Mary would have comforted and cared for him on his deathbed. And one of Jesus’ final deeds before he died on the Cross ensured that his widowed mother would be cared for.

This Sunday’s Gospel reading offers husbands and wives another valuable reflection from the Holy Family. After the Annunciation, the Gospels record no more angelic messages being given to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Her husband, Joseph, however receives multiple messages through dreams. First, the angel of the Lord tells Joseph not to fear receiving Mary his wife into his home. Then, as Herod is poised to hunt down the Christ Child, the angel tells Joseph to take Jesus and Mary to Egypt. Once Herod dies, the angel directs Joseph to take them back to the land of Israel. Finally, once Joseph has led his Holy Family back to Israel, he is warned in a dream not to live in the region of Bethlehem (Judea) and decides instead to resettle back up north in Nazareth.

Those messages from heaven came to the leader of the Holy Family, and Mary had to trust and entrust herself to Joseph. Joseph was called to servant-leadership, loving his wife and their child self-sacrificially, even as Christ loves the Church. Mary, in turn, was called to be subordinate to her husband, like a priest to his bishop. Of course, I am not obliged to obey my bishop in things that are immoral or irrational, but otherwise the Lord wills me to be obedient to him as my leader. I can voice my personal preferences to him and I ought to raise my concerns with him, but the ultimate decision and responsibility falls to him. Likewise, St. Paul writes, “Wives, be subordinate to your husbands, as is proper in the Lord.” And elsewhere St. Paul teaches in the Spirit, “As the Church is subordinate to Christ, so wives should be subordinate to their husbands in everything.”

Children and parents, husbands and wives, may all of us learn from the Holy Family as our example. And may their prayers beside the throne of God the Father gain us abundant graces to be great and fruitful saints in their likeness.

You Can Ask Jesus Your Questions

December 13, 2025

3rd Sunday of Advent
By Fr. Victor Feltes

St. John the Baptist, despite his continued imprisonment, had heard about the works Jesus was doing and sent two of his disciples to ask him, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” John was no pushover, not some reed swayed by the wind, but from this question we can gather that while John sat in Herod’s prison some doubt arose about whether Jesus was their long-awaited Messiah.

Notice how Jesus reacts to the question. He does not lose his temper or condemn them for asking. He gives them a helpful response: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.” In other words: “Report to John my mighty works for these show that I am the Messiah of whom Isaiah wrote (e.g., ‘Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, the ears of the deaf be cleared; then will the lame leap like a stag, then the tongue of the mute will sing.’) How I accomplish my purposes may appear strange, but remember that a person who takes no offense at me is blessed.” Jesus was patient with people who asked him questions in good faith.

Nicodemus did not want to be seen in public with Jesus. That’s why Nicodemus approached him at night. But Jesus still engaged with his questions. The Samaritan woman at the well may have first thought the man speaking to her was weird, but Jesus invited her probing questions. And the rich young man who asked Jesus about the way to eternal life wasn’t quite ready to fully commit to following Christ, but Jesus looked at him, loved him, and gave personalized responses. Despite their flaws, they asked Jesus questions in good faith and Jesus answered them. What Jesus does not like is questions asked in bad faith.

When the Pharisees would set traps for him, Jesus knew their ill intent, saying, “Why are you testing me, you hypocrites?” He knew they were just looking for ways to condemn and reject him. And when Jesus appeared before King Herod during his Passion, Herod questioned him at length because he had heard about him and hoped to see him perform some sign. But when Jesus gave him no replies, Herod treated him with contempt and mocked him and sent him away. Wicked Herod was merely curious about Jesus and uninterested in repenting of his sins. We should not test God like the Pharisees and Herod did. Jesus delights, however, in genuine seekers and is pleased to answer them.

Whoever asks, receives,” and “whoever seeks, finds,” though the answer might not be instantaneous. Job, while doing nothing wrong, questioned for some time before the Lord answered him. Sometimes our answer is already readily available through Christ’s Church, and we should listen to him through her. But sometimes God, who is supremely brilliant and creative, will answer us through different avenues (though without contradicting himself). Sometimes his answer will come during prayer, or maybe through something we providentially see or hear, or perhaps through a friend or a stranger.

What are your questions for the Lord? I encourage you to ask him and keep your eyes and ears and heart open. If you’re seeking the truth and not seeking excuses; if you’re looking to love and serve Jesus better, pay Christ the compliment of approaching him as the One who knows all things and loves you. Blessed is the one who does so.

From Eden to Nazareth

December 8, 2025

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception
By Fr. Victor Feltes

In the story of Genesis, the Lord God declares to the serpent: “I will put enmity [that is, hostility] between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel.” There is more going on here than an account of humanity’s dislike for slithering, venomous snakes. That tempter at the Fall was not a mere snake. The Book of Revelation identifies “the ancient serpent” as “the Devil and Satan.” And the Church saw in that declaration of the Lord God in Genesis the first proclamation of the Gospel, the Protoevangelium, foretelling what God intended to do to accomplish our salvation through Jesus Christ. “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers…” (or literally in the Hebrew) “between your seed and her seed”. That’s curious, since folks typically speak of the seed a man rather than the seed of a woman. Who is this woman whom God decrees to be in a state of opposition to Satan, whose Son would suffer due to the Evil One until he crushed the Serpent’s head?

The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a virgin in the city of Nazareth named Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” Gabriel hails Mary with a title, like people cried “Hail, King of the Jews” during Jesus’ Passion. But the angel is not speaking ironically like Jesus’ tormentors and the angel does not lie. What we translate into English as “full of grace” has a deeper meaning in the original Greek. Heaven’s messenger calls Mary “Kecharitomene,” a perfect passive participle of a word which means “to fill or endow with grace.” Because it is in the Greek perfect tense, it declares Mary was graced as a completed action in the past but with effects continuing to the present. Mary had already been prepared by God for that moment, to become the sinless, grace-filled mother of our Incarnate Lord.

So why did God do this? One reason is so that she could give to God a full and free “Yes.” Once the angel explained that she would give birth to the Messiah and that this child would be God’s Son conceived by the Holy Spirit, Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that “in order for Mary to be able to give the free assent of her faith to the announcement of her vocation, it was necessary that she be wholly borne by God’s grace.” (CCC #490) Mary says “Yes” to God not due to coercive fears, nor from selfish motives, but freely and faithfully on behalf of all Creation and the Holy Church to be.

Another reason God created her pure and filled her with grace, was to make her a fitting mother — not only for her Son but all his Christian siblings, his brothers and sisters, including you and me. She is the New Eve who, by her faithful loving obedience, “became the mother of all the living.” Today we celebrate with Blessed Mary how the Almighty has done great things for her, through which we now have Jesus Christ our Lord and a heavenly mother who knows us and loves us and prays for us now.

Heralding the Best Path

December 7, 2025

2nd Sunday of Advent
By Fr. Victor Feltes

St. John the Baptist taught his hearers that the time had come for them to take action and change course. St. Matthew writes it was of John the Baptist the Prophet Isaiah spoke when he foretold of “a voice of one crying out in the desert,” saying, “Prepare the way of the Lord! Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God! Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill shall be made low; the rugged land shall be made a plain, the rough country, a broad valley. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed…” So what is this imagery about?

In ancient times, preceding a king’s journey somewhere, a messenger would be sent ahead to announce how people should get ready for the royal arrival. One practical task was to improve his road: removing rocks, filling potholes, and smoothing ruts. For the coming of the King of kings, Isaiah even envisions lowering mountains and raising valleys to form a straight and level highway. John the Baptist calls everyone to reevaluate our priorities to better prepare the way for encountering Christ.

An angel of the Lord had announced to the Baptist’s father, Zechariah, that John’s mission had an intergenerational component. John was to “turn the hearts of fathers toward children and the disobedient to the understanding of the righteous, to prepare a people fit for the Lord.” St. John, inspiring adults to seek the very best for children and to form them in godly ways, would “turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God.” Today, I wish to inspire you to do the same for children now through our St. Paul’s Catholic Grade School.

We have an excellent Catholic school. For our most recent reaccreditation, administrators from four other Catholic schools thoroughly evaluated us and told us: “You have a beautiful school.” “[It’s] welcoming, faith-filled, and charming!” “[It’s] filled with excellent educational instruction.” “[There are] high expectations.” “The students are so well-mannered.” “[And there are] great relationships between teachers and students.” And all of them agreed, “We wish we could work at your school.”

Our highly-qualified teachers can provide one-on-one attention in a wholesome environment more like a family than a factory. And we have great young people who positively influence each other. Our reinvigorating new principal, Mr. Brad Cody, has been struck by our students’ respectfulness and politeness, noting how in all his time here he has yet to hear any student swear. Our behavioral expectations, our academic expectations, and our moral expectations are not found in many other schools today. St. Paul’s devoted teachers and substitutes who have taught in both worlds can attest to the differences in our Catholic school.

God and Christ’s teachings are not excluded here. We have daily prayer, weekly Mass, Confession, and seasonal devotions. Our students get to know Catholic clergy beyond just at Sunday Mass, like when we eat our excellent school lunches with them at their tables. Our littlest ones enjoy the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd, which introduces Christianity to them in an engaging way on their level. And while people of all faiths are welcome at our school, the Catholic Faith is taught and lived.

Our 4K through 8th grade Catholic school prepares the way for the Lord without the rocks, ruts, and pitfalls found in other paths; a smooth and straight road for children to get to know Jesus Christ and walk forward with him together. So if you or your acquaintances have school-aged children, please work to get them enrolled here in 2026. Make a call, take a tour. School Choice makes tuition free at higher incomes than you would think. But even families who don’t qualify can receive grants and scholarships we offer, so do not imagine cost to be an obstacle. In addition to recruiting for our great school, I invite you to join our work in person. We could always use more playground supervisors, substitute teachers, or helpers in the library, office, or classrooms.

It’s not so much that our Catholic school has a mission, as our Catholic mission here in Bloomer has a school. Please help prepare the way for our Lord, make straight our children’s paths, by supporting our St. Paul’s Catholic School.

Two Stories of Conversion

November 29, 2025

1st Sunday of Advent
By Fr. Victor Feltes

At the beginning of this Advent, I would like to tell two stories of conversion. In the spring of 1521, while defending the city of Pamplona, Spain a 30-year-old soldier got his right leg fractured by a French cannonball. He would spend the next several months healing in his family’s castle. Convalescing in bed, day after day, he became extremely bored and asked for some adventure stories to read about knights and ladies. He liked those kinds of stories, but they didn’t have any of those in the house. His sister-in-law provided him a book about the life of Christ and another book of short stories about famous saints.

Sometimes he would read and reflect on what he read. Other times, he would daydream about worldly things. He would pause and consider, “What if I were to do what St. Francis or St. Dominic did?” And other times he would fantasize about being a heroic knight and wooing a certain royal lady in another land who was high above his station.

When he reflected on these worldly fantasies he felt intense pleasure; and whenever he stopped, sometimes hours later from weariness, he felt dry and depressed. Yet whenever he imagined living the rigorous sort of life the saints had lived, he not only experienced pleasure during such thoughts but felt great joy afterwards as well.

Eventually, he noticed this difference and realized how thoughts of one kind left him sad while the others filled him with joy. This was an important moment in his discernment, for he would go on to embrace God’s call to become a saint: St. Ignatius of Loyola.

Sin disappoints us, but goodness (though difficult) yields peace and satisfaction. We are attracted to our sins. Sins would not tempt us if there were no hope for pleasure, relief, or temporary gain from them. But after sinning, if our consciences are well-formed, we feel guilt and regret. What we have done or failed to do harms ourselves and others. And apart from the damages caused, sin squanders opportunities for better things. Yet God continues lovingly calling us back to repentance and conversion.

In the year 386, a 32-year-old man felt very drawn to Christianity but felt enslaved to his sins. It was as if the temptations he loved and despised were whispering, ‘Are you going to part with us? Do you really think you can live without these pleasures forever?’ But another voice had him imagine the smiling multitude of saints who had lived before him. That sweet voice seemed to say, ‘You can do what these men and women did, but none of them did it by themselves. The Lord God gave it to them. Why do you try to stand by your own strength, only to fall over and over again? Cast yourself on Christ and don’t be afraid. He won’t flinch and you won’t fall. Cast yourself on him without fear, for he will accept and heal you.’ Yet he was still torn; desiring chastity, but not yet.

His turning-point moment came sitting in a garden outside his house. With tears he asked, ‘Why do I keep delaying until tomorrow? Why not now? Why not end my uncleanness this very hour?’ Yet he still lacked the strength. Then he heard a child from the house next door, chanting over and over, “Pick it up and read it; pick it up and read it!” He opened the Bible beside him to a random page, finding Romans 13:13-14, part of today’s Second Reading:

Let us conduct ourselves properly as in the day, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in promiscuity and licentiousness, not in rivalry and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh.”

Upon reading those words, his heart was infused with a light of certainty and all the gloom of doubt vanished. By this God-given grace, the life of the man we now know as St. Augustine of Hippo began to change.

This Advent, I encourage you to heed Jesus’ warning to “stay awake” and “be prepared,” like the saints before us. Identify your vice and call upon Christ, come to Confession and change your habits, to begin anew in the saintly life he calls you to. Open your arms to receive this gift, his gift, for Christmas.