Lord, have mercy Lord, have mercy Christ, have mercy Christ, have mercy Lord, have mercy Lord, have mercy
God our Father in heaven have mercy on us God the Son, Redeemer of the world have mercy on us God the Holy Spirit have mercy on us Holy Trinity, one God have mercy on us Heart of Jesus, Son of the eternal Father have mercy on us Heart of Jesus, formed by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the Virgin Mother have mercy on us
Heart of Jesus, inmost being of the incarnate Son and his love, both divine and human * have mercy on us
Heart of Jesus, natural sign and symbol of the boundless love of Christ *
Heart of Jesus part of Christ’s holy risen body, *
Heart of Jesus, inseparable from the Son of God who assumed a human body forever *
Heart of Jesus, beating, real, alive, loving us *
Heart of Jesus, receiving our love in return *
Heart of Jesus, our friend *
Heart of the same Jesus who for love of us, was born in Bethlehem, passed through Galilee healing the sick, embracing sinners and showing mercy, who loved us to the very end, opening wide his arms on the cross, rose from the dead and now living among us in glory. *
Heart of Jesus, centre and source from which salvation flowed for all humanity *
Heart of Jesus, profound unifying centre of his body, expression of the totality of his person *
Heart of Jesus, signifying the divine love of Christ, united forever and inseparably to his wholly human love transformed by his Divine love *
Heart of Jesus, beating with the most tender and human affection *
Heart of Jesus, in whose human love, we encounter his divine love *
Heart of Jesus, the Holy Spirit’s masterpiece *
Heart of Jesus, heart of the world *
Heart of Jesus, nourishing our lives with the strength of the Eucharist *
Heart of Jesus, pierced, gushing living water, a flowing fountain, outpouring of a spirit of compassion and supplication, wellspring of new life for us *
Heart of Jesus, warm and tender *
Heart of Jesus, who feeds us from his own breast
Heart of Jesus, in which we rest in contemplation *
Heart of Jesus, source of life and interior peace *
Heart of Jesus, open to all *
Heart of Jesus, in whom our names are carved *
Heart of Jesus , thinking of me, even the smallest hair of my head *
Heart of Jesus whose intense love is fire and light *
Heart of Jesus, free of anger, free of bitterness, filled with genuine compassion towards its enemies *
Heart of Jesus, infinite in mercy *
Heart of Jesus, living in us *
Heart of Jesus, our only Treasure *
Heart of Jesus, all love, forgiveness and justice *
Heart of Jesus one in solidarity with those who are poor and rejected by the world *
Heart of Jesus, consoling us that we might console others *
Heart of Jesus, thirsting for our love *
Heart of Jesus, transforming our hearts *
Heart of Jesus, loving and serving in us *
Heart of Jesus, consoled by our service and love of Christ *
Let us pray.
Grant, we pray, almighty God, that we, who glory in the Heart of your beloved Son and recall the wonders of his love for us, may be made worthy to receive an overflowing measure of grace from that fount of heavenly gifts. Through Christ our Lord. R/. Amen
Dilexit Nos is an encyclical written by Pope Francis
As the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus is, at this writing, tomorrow, (Friday June 27th in 2025), and June is traditionally the month of the Sacred Heart, I’ve been pondering the heart’s virtues, such as love, compassion, mercy, solidarity, and empathy especially. This seems an urgent topic to write about right now as so many seem to glory in cruelty, others going so far as to call empathy a supposed “sin”.
I’ve had somebody say to me in response to a plea for compassion for migrants, that we “aren’t supposed to be the Church of ‘nice.” “No, I said, “we are supposed to be the Church of radical love.”
The argument that there is a “sin” of empathy, I likely don’t have to tell most of you, is antithetical to the Gospel. At best this argument is coming from people who are trying to protect their hearts from the pain of empathy or their conscience telling them to do something about it. Maybe it’s to justify the hardness of their hearts. God knows what it is. In any case this is the work of the devil. It’s ugly and contrary to love. Love, remember, is what God is and what we are supposed to be doing. Maybe they’ve re-interpreted what that was supposed to mean to love God and love our neighbor as ourselves. It’s hard to understand how that is possible. However here we are hearing anti-empathy declarations.
This belief that empathy is to be quashed and not nurtured or respected is mostly found in certain corners of ultra-reactionary or hyper-rationalist “theology.” The argument usually goes something like:
“Empathy clouds judgment. It leads us to condone sin in others. It makes us sentimental and irrational.”
One time I came home from work and my teen and pre-teen were playing seriously inappropriate music loudly in the house. I turned it off and made them stand in front of a picture of Our Lady and recite the lyrics to her. They couldn’t. I wonder if people who discourage or disdain empathy can look into the face of Jesus and tell him that nonsense they say to other people. Lacking empathy, campaigning against it is the more likely sin.
The “sin of empathy” crowd say they feel manipulated by calls for empathy. They put labels on goodness like “virtue signaling.” rather than being inspired to act with mercy. Maybe they think the man beset by robbers deserved what he got, that the Good Samaritan was weak, stupid, being taken advantage of. Perhaps they would say that the priest and the levite who passed by without helping were the real heroes of the story. Maybe these are people who have been put-upon too much in life, or feel used when they do something for someone, or they have trouble with boundaries and they threw the “baby out with the bath water,” as my mom would say. I don’t know but they’re wrong and they try to deceive others as well.
How could empathy erase moral clarity? It can only deepen it and fill it out. As Pope Francis said in Dilexit Nos, his encyclical on the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the human heart brings together fragments of ourselves into cohesion. The heart brings together soul, spirit, mind and body, enabling true discernment and understanding. We can’t attempt to cut off parts of ourselves and call that “clarity” or “judgement.” To do that only mutilates us as people, distorting our judgement and endangering our salvation.
Being “cruel to be kind” is an oxymoron when it comes to the suffering of another. It is merely mean, dumb, and contrary to the Gospel.
Empathy is the ability to enter into another’s experience — to “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15), to “bear one another’s burdens” (Galatians 6:2), to love your neighbor as yourself (Mark 12:31). Jesus constantly showed empathy:
He wept over Lazarus (John 11:35) and over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41)
He touched lepers, (Matthew 8:22-26) embraced children, (Mark 10:13-16) noticed the suffering no one else saw and did something about it every time.
His Incarnation was an act of ultimate divine empathy — “He took on our infirmities and bore our diseases” (Isaiah 53:4, Matthew 8:17)
Toward the lowly he never used “tough love.” He reserved that for the powerful alone. He was angry with them for their oppression of others, for their hypocrisy, their legalism that got in the way of mercy, and for their lack of compassion. (See Matthew 23 for some serious rage from Jesus toward religious leaders for these very things).
He healed a woman with a crooked back and was angry when the Pharisees and Scribes confronted him with doing this on the Sabbath. He hated the way they put strict observance of rules over care and compassion for people. (Luke 13: 10-17)
To reject empathy is to reject Christ’s own way of loving. Our Lord never condemned anybody for being too soft hearted; quite the opposite. People were condemned by him for being legalistic without mercy (the Pharisees), for being indifferent to suffering (the priest and Levite in the Good Samaritan story Luke 10:25-37), for being harsh and arrogant instead of humble and compassionate (Luke 18:9–14).
Clearly the “sin of empathy” assertion is a serious distortion of the Gospel – anathema to it. People asking “yeah well who IS my neighbor” and trying to redefine that as people they agree with, like or approve of, are on the wrong path. Don’t listen. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. Do not be carried away by strange teaching (Hebrews 13:8 and Ephesians 4:14). If anyone preaches to you a different Jesus than we (the apostles) have, said St. Paul, let them be accursed (Galatians 1:8-9, 2 Corinthians 11:4).
You cannot love God and hate your brother or sister. That would make you a liar. (1 John 4:20)
The intentions of Pope Leo XIV for the month of June are “that the world will grow in compassion.” He says, “Now is the time for love.”
It seems to me there is a battle of good and evil happening, a fight for the soul of the world. I don’t think I usually talk like this. But this anti empathy stuff is the devil. Resist him, solid in your faith. (1 Peter 5:8)
Jesus teaches us that it’s not enough just to resist evil. We have to pray for, bless and love those in the grip of it. We have to shine our light of love and compassion for all to see. And we need to grow in the virtues of the heart ourselves.
Jesus, gentle and humble of Heart, make our hearts like unto thine.
My sweet friend Julia, of the Focolare Movement, (the official name is “The Work of Mary”), mentioned to me once the practice they have of stopping to pray for peace at noon. Looking into this, I found out this was something a young Focolare Blessed, who had died at the age of seventeen in 1990, of bone cancer, had done every day. Her name is Chiarra Luce (meaning “clear light”). She took one minute daily at noon to pray for peace in silence.
Most of us are at work at that time of day as I am. However if we can’t stop for a whole minute we can stop for a second or two.
The Church provides us with a couple of traditional prayers for noon so that we are all joining together in spirit then. One of these is The Angelus, a Marian prayer prayed for centuries at 6am, noon, and 6pm. This is why the bells of so many Catholic Churches and monasteries ring “Angelus Bells” in a pattern of three times in a row three times. These are a reminder to pray the Angelus. I love the Angelus Prayer and I try to pray it every day. If I can’t, I at least touch foreheads with Our Lady or squeeze her hand or at least pray one Hail Mary at that time. It’s a great way to touch base with her. We can dedicate the Angelus to Peace. After all Mary is the Queen of Peace.
The Angelus
The Angel of God declared unto Mary
R/. And she conceived of the Holy Spirit
Hail Mary…
Behold the Handmaid of the Lord
R/. Let it be done unto me as you have said.
Hail Mary…
And the Word was made flesh (genuflect here)
R/. And dwelt among us.
(stand) Hail Mary…
Pray for us, O holy Mother of God, R/. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.
Let us pray.
Pour forth, we beseech you, O Lord, your grace into our hearts: that we, to whom the Incarnation of Christ your Son was made known by the message of an Angel, may by his Passion and Cross be brought to the glory of his Resurrection. Through the same Christ our Lord.
Amen.
The other prayer traditionally prayed at noon is Noon Prayer (or “Sext’) from the Liturgy of the Hours. Lest this sound complicated, there are apps for your phone so you can access this simple prayer break in this middle of the day. The Divine Office App or the Universalis App are both good. You can also access the Liturgy of Hours free online at Universalis. It’s made up of a hymn (I usually skip it), three Psalm selections, a short Scripture reading, and a brief closing prayer. It sounds long but it only takes a few minutes in practice.
I sometimes stop for a minute, and look at Jesus residing in my heart. Once I have greeted him I will tell him I am asking him for peace. Sometimes we talk about it. Other times we are quiet and I occasionally say mentally, “Peace, Lord, Peace,” or I imagine us going around the world calming fear, protecting those in danger, reconciling peoples, stopping bombs. I know I can’t stop anything but he can and he likes to have me along I think. He seems to love sharing his work with us. I see imagination as a way to focus intention and express prayer in the same way words do. We don’t need words in order to pray. Neither do we need imagination to pray, but I find it nice.
Of course you can pray for peace in whatever way you like and for however long or briefly you like. These ideas are only suggestions for anyone who wants them.
The important thing is to take time each day, preferably at noon so we can join together by heart, and the Lord will enjoy the prayers for peace crossing his earth with the sunlight like the movements of a song.
“We will be protesting today in Austin. I dedicate this act of resistance to the Lord and his mother Mary, who praised the One who brings down kings from their thrones and lifts up the lowly, who fills the hungry and sends the rich away empty. I pray for all of the protestors today, that our acts of resistance may be given their full power for righteousness and Justice, amplified by the Holy Spirit. May everyone be safe and may peace prevail over all. The American people bow before NO KING, ” I wrote on social media the morning of June 14, 2025, the day of nation wide “No King” protests.
We bought stuff for our signs in the early afternoon. While we were there we saw a lady buying canvases and American flags and markers. I said, “Oh I think I know what you’re up to!” “You do?” “Yeah that’s what we’re doing too. We’re going to Austin.” I have to explain that my town is VERY conservative. If your’e not, you’re not going to talk about it in public to someone you don’t know. It’s not like anybody is going to beat you up or anything. People here are mostly kind and friendly. It’s just natural I guess. We’re definitely in the minority. Weird for a college town but it’s Texas A & M’s college town. We are always kind of excited to run into another not-conservative around here.
She invited us to come to her car in the parking lot for some masks. While there she told us about the local No Kings protest. I had thought it would be about ten people but was thrilled to hear the number was closer to 600. I could hardly believe it. I regretted not having being there.
At home we made our signs. My daughter Roise’s was so funny. (Rosie is how we pronounce it- it’s a Gaelic name that would usually be pronounced “Roh-sha” but we just say Rosie.) I had to laugh at hers it was so typical of her. It’s said,
“Dump your MAGA boyfriend.” On the back she wrote,
“They are a drop, we are the ocean.”
I wrote “He has brought down Kings from their thrones and lifted up the lowly- Mother Mary, Lk.1:52.
On the back I wrote,
“If you want peace, work for justice – Pope Paul VI” and “The American people bow to NO KINGS!”
I was happy with it. I took a dollar store red rosary along as well, to keep in my hand. I took a dollar store rosary so if it got broken it wouldn’t bother me as much as one of my usual ones, all of which are special to me for different reasons. And I made sure to wear my Our Lady of Guadalupe socks. Plus I brought bubbles. I really wanted some rose petals but by the time I took care of what my dogs cats and chickens would need for the day, and my girl wrote down all of our numbers we might need in case of arrest or losing our phones, we were pressed for time.
We dropped off my granddaughter at her godmothers’ and headed out. We both felt more nervous than we usually do for these things. There were a lot of reasons for this. Namely the president is doing dictator stuff regarding protests as if they are illegal which they’re not. Secondly two Democratic lawmakers and their spouses had been shot that morning, one of them and her husband had died. The president was having a dictatorship type military parade that day on his birthday. Protestors in L.A. were being overshadowed by a federalized national guard against the will of the governor of California, and so many other signs of text book authoritarianism, including ignoring court orders, were cropping up as if out of a fascist playbook. Today y’all know all this. But someday we might forget so I want to write down some context. It felt like this day could be a sea change, either in a good way or a bad way, as “No Kings” protests took place all over the county. I still don’t know, at this writing, what that sea change will be. We alternated listening to social justice themed songs and more calming songs in the car. We played a lot of Kendrick Lamar (love him) and I pulled out some 80″s hardcore punk with anti fascist themes. (I was a little punk rocker in my teens. In some ways I haven’t changed much.) My daughter didn’t like it so well . But it was my turn.
A friend let us park at his house in Austin and use it as a home base while he was out of town. So we met another friend there we were going with and called an uber. Our friend looked adorable. He had a back pack on with a bouquet of colorful roses sticking out of it, with a small American flag. Otherwise, we all dressed as plainly and comfortably as possible.
A friend from home was coming too, with her husband. We never did find them. There were 20,000 people there so this is no surprise. We texted each other but still gave up after a while.
People were excited and happy to see each other. It felt good to do something about the scary situation in our country while we still could. I’m not exaggerating here as some may think. Not being able to protest anymore is a distinct possibility. Our governor had called out the national guard of Texas too. I don’t think I saw any National Guard people though. Police and State Troopers were everywhere however.
Oh it was hot. We couldn’t really see anything up front. There was speaker after speaker on the Capital steps but we couldn’t see; a drag queen and activist called Bridget Bandit was first. Apparently the number performed after the speech was pretty good but I could only see the top of a big yellow wig. Loved the music. Then there were veterans, immigrants, immigration lawyers and Democratic state legislators, young people whose parents had been taken away by ICE, various activists. I was surprised that Dan Rather spoke.
I didn’t like that we had to stand around in the heat for three hours listening to people talk and we weren’t marching. Marching is the fun part to me. It really feels like community and shared purpose. It’s a powerful experience, walking with others. There were a lot of great signs though. People get so creative and artistic with their signs sometimes. And it was Austin so of course. There was a lot of color – people with clown make up on, Cowboy hats of course, with flags draped over shoulders or worn as capes. Plenty of baseball caps and the ocasional sombrero. One person was carrying a watermelon (a symbol of Palestine) or wearing the traditional Palestinian scarf of black and white checks and fringed ends. There was plenty of colorful hair as well. I enjoyed the variety.
I saw a sign or two with pictures of Elvis thst said something to the effect of, “The only King in America.” This just seemed typically Austin to me somehow. There were lots of flags; American flags, Mexican flags, the Texas flag, even a few Palestinian flags. There was an inflatable Elon Musk that was pretty creepy.
Lots of people were blowing bubbles. Who could be un-cheered by bubbles? So I remembered mine were in my pocket and joined in.
We lost our friend for a while. When he found us I said dang when are we going to march? He said he didn’t think we were going to because we were absolutely surrounded by law enforcement. I was mad. How annoying. I thought about leaving. But we didn’t. I was feeling dizzy but thankfully there was free cold water and even popsicles. People are great.
Finally people started leaving. I thought we were all going home but actually it turned out to be the march. It really was fun in spite of the ubiquitous police and state trooper presence. People came out of buildings along the way and cheered us on. Others rolled down their car windows to yell some of the chants. There was lots of honking. I saw a line of police in which one of them seemed to be trying to read my sign so I walked over and showed them all both sides. One of them said, “Wait it didn’t finish reading the other side,” so I flipped it over again. We smiled at each other. We should always be kind, I think. They’re just people doing their jobs. One of them said, “Watch your back!” There was a car coming up way to close behind me. They told me to move aside and I said “What about you?” I mean we didn’t know whether it was a friendly car or not. I moved on of course.
Somebody gave me a bouquet of white roses. I loved that. I held them as long as I could but it ended up being kind of a pain. I handed them to somebody who had just joined us and didn’t have anything to carry. She was happy.
Our friend we were marching with started a couple of the chants. “FREE FREE PALESTINE!” Hey this was about everything. We chanted that for a while. There was a young woman there in our part of the marchers who had a megaphone and she started some chants. Some were in Spanish and they meant, “The people united will never be defeated.” and then we would say it in English for a while. There were chants about ICE. The one most familiar to me from all the other protests I had been to was, “No fear, no hate, no fascist USA.’ I told my daughter and her friend about my first big protest. I was a teenager then. That protest was about trying to get Texas A&M to divest from South Africa over Apartheid. I had been to Brazos Valley Peace Action protests before (this was during the Cold War and the concern about nuclear weapons build up). But in this town those were fifteen people or so getting ignored on the side of the road. The anti-Apartheid was actually a pretty big protest. I carried a very big metal sign that said “FREE South Africa.” It was exhilarating for me. It felt so good to DO something about stuff that was out of my control and to do so with people who were as concerned as I was.
Along our way yesterday I kept giggling about the funnier signs and nudging the kids. One just said, “BRUH.” Some of them would qualify as great folk art. That would be a cool exhibit I think. Protest signs through the ages.
Mine was certainly not the only sign with Bible verses. I saw some with Psalm 107 about “may his days be few and someone else take his office.” I thought that one was kind of mean. Several people had the verse about “You shall love the immigrant and treat them as one of your own.” (LV. 19:34) Of course “Love your neighbor” showed up a lot. A girl marching in front of me had a sign that said, “Jesus is my only King.” I had thought saying that on mine too. I was pleased to have met other Catholics too. They saw my brown scapular and said, “Hey we’re from St. Austins’ what’s your parish?”
When we passed the Cathedral of St. Mary’s, I waved up at the statue of Our Lady over the church doors. I told the kids, “Yay, I knew she would be here!”
Eventually it was 8:30 and getting dark. In my experience if anything crazy is going to happen it was going to be after dark. And anyway I had started to feel sick. And we had to get home to our animals and pick up my granddaughter. We had my other daughter go and pick her up from her godmothers because we realized we would never get there on time.
The protest was supposed to end at 8 but I read online that it was still going at 10pm. I thought that was great. So we took an Uber back to our home base. We walked down the street to eat Indian food and talk over the day with hoarse voices. We were proud of our friend for starting some of the chants. He is usually pretty quiet. Who knew he had it in him? We complained about the heat. I remarked about how though there were jubilant parts of the day, this protest had seemed different to me. It seemed more somber than ones we had been to before. I think the overwhelming police presence put a bit of a damper on things of course. But I also think it was those shootings that morning and the clear signs of authoritarianism we are seeing in our country, like people being “disappeared” off the streets by masked men, put it unmarked vans and detained without warrants or due process. And a real grief along with the worry- grief yes, for what we were already losing- the whole idea of our country; its identity and what we have always thought we stood for, the freedom and human rights we were founded on, things we had taken for granted.
I am hoping there is still time to turn the tide and that’s it’s not too late. All three of us felt like this was an historic moment. I’m glad we were a part of it.
Sean and I are in the car eating cherry slushies with spoons. He is in the back seat and I am sitting sideways in the front so I can see him. “Are you happy?” I ask him. He smiles very big, and says, “YES!” “Me too,” I say. “I’m pretty happy too.”
When I pick him up at the end of his day there are a variety of things he might say as he is handed into the car by his teacher. One of my favorites is, “Hello boys and girls.” That one cracks me up. He is a funny kid.
For a 13 year old he is pretty quiet most of the time. He has several voices though. Most often he speaks either in a bright staccato reminiscent of a character in an old cartoon, or in a soft, quiet voice he usually uses when he has more to say. When he speaks low I think it is because he is a little nervous about saying more so he talks really fast. “I’dliketolistentorockyroadtodublinplease.” This he says many times each day because The Rocky Road to Dublin is his favorite song. (He especially likes the version by the High Kings). Gaelic music is his jam. It’s all we listen to when we are together. It’s a good thing I like Irish music too.
He doesn’t particularly like me playing with his toys- which is a bummer because he has a lot of fun toys. His parents make sure he has exactly the right things that are fun and also good for him- lots of learning and sensory toys. He likes me to be with him when he plays but not for me to touch anything. Sometimes I sneak a piece of that cool slime putty but I give it back as soon as he notices. Eventually he lets me play too. I’m also a fan of his extensive rubber ducky collection. He spends a lot of time with those guys. Which means I do too of course. It’s a regular rubber ducky party sometimes.
Don’t be fooled by the wide, dreamy blue eyed gaze, the sweet, soft face and fuzzy head of this boy, all of which give him a hazy angelic look as if he is in another world. He can seem that he is thinking of something else or as if he isn’t aware of his surroundings. However, Sean is taking in everything.
His mom is a singer and she has been working on a new song lately. She is singing it in the kitchen and she pauses while she looks for something. In the pause Sean supplies the next phrase. She sings the next one. He sings the next one after that. He knows the whole song! We’re impressed. He has certainly been listening when his mom was practicing.
Sean is pretty calm and quiet most of the time- until he isn’t. His feelings are apparently pretty intense at times. To those of us on the outside the intensity appears sudden. He makes a heart rending announcement. “Oh no! Oh no! SAD! SAD!” We tell him we are sorry he is sad and ask him to take a deep breath. He is very good about this. He always does it when we ask him to and it always helps. I have loved seeing how understanding and compassionate his parents are when this happens. They are very good at encouraging, guiding and bringing out the best out in him.
Once he and I were at a playground and a little boy asked, “Why can’t he talk?” I said that he can, he just doesn’t most of the time. Then the boy asked, “Why do you follow him around like that?” Sean took off running right then. I said , “Because he does that!” And I took off after him. I found him hiding behind a column looking upset. “Are you upset?” “Yes.” “Is it because of what that little boy asked?” “Yes.” “Sean there is nothing wrong with you at all. You’re perfect just the way you are, OK?” “OK.”
On the way home I played him “The Rocky Road to Dublin,” as many times as he wanted.
Sean is loving and affectionate. He can be very cuddly especially when he is in the mood which is usually later in the day when he’s tired. He likes to get in his dad’s lap or in his arm chair with him, hug him and rub cheeks with him. They’re very adorable.
He likes to lay in my lap or embrace me and say, “Friends!” Which I love. He likes to stand in the kitchen with his mom touching foreheads and talking with her.
Sean seems really secure and to know he is valued. He seems to understand his special place in his family. He is lucky to have his grandparents nearby. He loves them and asks about them all the time. He has a lot of support. Families like this are great to see and an honor to work with.
Sean laughs a lot. Sometimes it’s the kind of laugh that makes him go running through the house like a madman, as if he can’t contain his joy and enthusiasm. Whatever is going on in his mind, it’s hilarious to him.
He has his little jokes with us. He might say, in his idiosyncratic sing- song, “seventy has five letters.” I say, “ nuh uh!” His mom says “how many is it really?” After a while he admits it has seven letters. Which he knows very well. He is quite amused by this. As for me I had to count the letters on my fingers to make sure.
Sometimes we are playing quietly or watching something and he says,” tickle me.” He may or may not laugh when I do but I have told him if I am going to go to the trouble I expect laughter. He obliges dramatically with satisfying shrieks.
Another common request from Sean is “high five.” Or he may say “H-5!” Sometimes he does want to high five. Other times what he really wants is to hold hands. So we do.
“Repeat after me,” I say, and he does, a word at a time. “I. AM. A. CUTIE PIE!”
Sometimes I ask, “Who’s a cutie pie?” He says, “SEAN!” “That’s right.” And he really is.
Sometimes he sits in the hammock and I sit in the swing and we listen to Irish music and are content. These are some of the nicest moments in my day- he and I swinging, listening to music and smiling at each other.
We are playing with a bunch of rubbery letters of the alphabet and Sean suddenly disappears. I’m surprised. I look down at the counter and he has spelled out a message in colorful plastic: BYE.
My late husband, Bob, during our engagement, had been deeply moved by his first Holy Thursday mass. Watching the priest wash parishioner’s feet impressed him profoundly.
One time we were talking about Vigils the night before Catholic funerals. He wondered if the same thing happened before a wedding – a service with readings, prayers and a rosary. I said no but I wish that there was a tradition like that.
Bob thought we should have one. Well why not? We found out this was something that had to be a private thing we did at home rather than in the Church. We started planning our at home wedding vigil.
We looked at books like The Blessing Cup and a Catholic wedding prep book called Marriage, Sacrament of Hope and Challenge, for ideas since both contained little rituals that could be done at home, and then we wrote our own.
We invited friends over for the night before our wedding (we had our bachelor and bachelorette parties earlier in the week).
Bob definitely wanted us to wash each other’s feet, and he wanted a way to include my kids from my first marriage (their dad had died in a car crash when they were little). He felt he wasn’t just marrying me but becoming family to them too. So he bought them both necklaces as tokens of his commitment to them too.
Bob was not Catholic (yet). Most of his friends weren’t either. So while we Catholics prayed the rosary, the non- Catholics could go to the back yard where Bob would have a fire going and could play guitar and sing and people could talk or join him. We rosary pray-ers would join them when we finished.
Our ceremony included an opening prayer, a Scripture reading, intercessions, and an exchange of words of commitment before we washed each other’s feet. We included Bob’s gifting the necklaces to the girls, the sharing of a “Blessing Cup” we passed around, an Our Father and a closing prayer and plus lots of hugs.
I mostly remember that just as he finished washing my right foot, he gave my toes a squeeze with those big warm calloused hands of his.
I think a wedding vigil is such a beautiful idea, a wonderful thing to do. A couple needs as many prayers and as much support as they can get!
Bob was already fighting brain cancer by the time we did this. Our marriage was far from long enough but it was a beautiful one. I am extra glad we started it this way.
By guest blogger, Roise Manning (my youngest daughter)
Funnily enough, watching The Martian has shaped how I think about science in a deep, personal way. There’s something uniquely inspiring about Mark Watney, a man left behind on Mars, completely alone, with the world assuming he’s dead. He doesn’t give up. Instead, he leans on what he knows. He’s a botanist, not an action hero, but he starts solving one problem at a time. How to make water, grow food. How to modify a rover that wasn’t meant to go very far. How to get in contact with NASA, then how to communicate with them. It’s not flashy, it’s survival through science. And more than that, it’s survival through hope.
What moves me most is how he gives himself hope by trusting his knowledge, his training, his ability to think critically, and how to manipulate what resources he does have to survive. That kind of inner resilience feels like the heart of science: believing that the world is knowable, that problems have solutions, and that knowledge (even imperfect knowledge) is power. Watney doesn’t wait for someone to save him. He builds his own way forward, one equation, one experiment, one small decision at a time. When I’m feeling hopeless in today’s climate, like I just can’t take it anymore, I rewatch this movie. I always get chills when he looks around after taking a shower and getting the glass out of his abdomen and says, “I’m not going to die here.”
The whole world begins to root for him. China gives NASA a device they had been keeping secret in order to help them get him food, until a young astrophysicist at NASA comes up with an entirely new idea for how to bring Watney home. He’s not part of the leadership, he’s not a veteran engineer, he’s just a kid. He works through the math, tests it, brings it to the top, and ultimately turns NASA on their heads. And that idea, built around using China’s booster, ends up being the turning point that makes the rescue possible. That moment drives home how science is collaborative, and how progress often comes from unexpected places.
In the end, the entire world, every single country, is listening in to his crew’s dialogue. When the Commander says “We got him!” The screen shows everyone in the whole world jumping up and down, crying, hugging, and I just get this burst of hope and togetherness.
That story reshapes what I think it means to explain something in science. It’s not just identifying causes or finding the “right” answer. It’s about making sense of the unknown by drawing on what we do know. It’s about unifying past experiences and theories, leading us to a path through uncertainty. I used to think science was mostly about answers, but now I see it’s just as much about process. How we think, how we question, how we adapt, and how we use what we have.
I find myself especially drawn to the idea of unification, the way science pulls together knowledge from different fields to create something greater. In The Martian, botany, chemistry, physics, and engineering all come together to keep one person alive. And in real life, it’s the same: science isn’t just a subject; it’s a way of seeing and solving problems that connects everything.
This understanding of explanation gives science a deeper purpose to me. It’s not only a method for discovery, but it’s a mindset of persistence and possibility. It tells us that even when things seem impossible, there is a way forward. Maybe not right away. Maybe not perfectly. But step by step, with the right tools and mindset, we can make sense of the unknown…and survive it.
At the end of the movie, Watney is teaching a group of students, and he breaks it down perfectly. He says, “You solve one problem, and then the next, and then the next. And if you solve enough problems, you get to come home.” He reminds them that when you’re in space, you have to think on your feet, as space does not cooperate.
“Something WILL go south.”
So what are YOU going to do? What are you going to do with your knowledge, and the things at your disposal?
I dreamed about the Prophet Elijah a couple weeks ago. We were sitting on a mountainside talking.The conversation we had is lost to me for the most part. It seemed significant that I dreamed of him. In the time following, I re-read the stories of Elijah’s life in Scripture.
*You can find these in 1 Kings chapters 17-19, and 21,
2 Kings Chapters 1-2, and in Sirach 48:1-11.
The pattern of his life that stood out to me as I read and reflected, is the path of the holy activist.
Elijah embodies the prophetic response to times of upheaval and injustice. He is an icon of a prophet arising in a time of darkness, burning like a torch. He spoke truth to power, confronted corruption, and defended the vulnerable. He drew his strength and inspiration from God as he served the hungry, healed the sick, and returned to a hostile land he had run in fear from. Sometimes he was afraid for his life, frustrated, burned out. Then he charged back into the fray, blazing, lit by God’s transforming love. Elijah’s life is a map lighting the path of the holy activist.
Elijah confronted corrupt leaders
King Ahab and Queen Jezebel were horrible, shameless, lawless people. They were greedy, murderous, corrupt idolaters and false accusers leading the people into apostasy. Elijah confronted them several times over killing the prophets and destroying God’s altars, taking from and murdering the poor, warning of consequences to come.
During one of his confrontations with Ahab, the king called Elijah his enemy, blaming him for causing trouble. This happens a lot to anyone who speaks up against wrongdoing. Elijah doesn’t care what the King says. He contradicts him briefly, undeterred. He doesn’t let himself be drawn into argument. He delivers God’s message with its warning and walks away, leaving the results in God’s hands.
If you have to call out corruption or injustice, remember to detach from what happens after you have spoken. You can do your part and the rest is up to the hearers to choose how to respond.
Elijah spoke truth to power
Baal, a pagan god whose worship included child sacrifice, was popular at the time just as destructive ideologies have so much sway now. Elijah was the only prophet of the God of Israel left and the Queen was trying to kill him as well. Sometimes we have to speak the truth at great risk.
Elijah called the priests of Baal to meet him for a duel between their false god and the true God of Israel. The prophet of God stands alone against 450 priests of Baal and before his own people who had gone over to them. He trusted God to act. Dramatically and miraculously, God came through, sending fire from Heaven to consume Elijah’s sacrifice.
God will give us everything we need to do as he asks; to stand up and speak out even if we are all alone in doing so, he is with us.
Elijah made use of humor
I want to add that Elijah made fun of the prophets of Baal as they called to their false god. He taunted them sarcastically about whether their god was sleeping, or deaf or busy. “Maybe you should yell a little louder.”
Making fun of the powerful can be a good thing at times like these so we aren’t overcome by fear or hopelessness. Those late night comedians keep me going sometimes. I’m all for it. After all, Elijah ends up slaying the false prophets and there are more ways than one to slay.
So if you can, find ways to laugh. Bring the powerful down to size with humor.
Elijah served the needy with faith and compassion
After a time of frustration and even despair, God sends Elijah on a journey to help a poor widow and her son who are on the brink of starvation.
By the prophet’s prayers and the woman’s trust, her oil jug never runs dry and her flour jar never runs out of flour until the famine is over.
Elijah prayed over her son when he fell ill and died while he was there, which brought the child back to life. Elijah shows himself to be a man of profound compassion and faith. His service to the widow renews him and helps him grow.
If you’re freaking out, an act of kindness or service will help your perspective and give you peace.
Defending the poor and oppressed
King Ahab and Queen Jezebel conspired to take the ancestral land of a man named Naboth after he refused to sell. It was already against Jewish law to press someone to sell their family land. Then Jezebel arranged false accusations against Naboth because of which he was executed. Then the King took over the man’s land. Naboth stands for all of the poor who suffer injustice and oppression, from the greed of the rich and powerful, from unjust systems.
Always defend the poor and oppressed and be sure that even if you don’t think you succeed in doing so, God will, either now or in the future.
Being guided by God, motivated by love
One of the times Elijah was in hiding, God asked him, “Elijah, what are you doing?” Elijah pours out his heart to the Lord. He tells him how scared he is with the Queen trying to have him killed. Then he tells God of his burning, intense love for him, which is the spark of his zeal. This is what it means to be a holy activist. Our inspiration, our strength, our courage to confront people in power, our compassion, our hunger and thirst for righteousness, are all from God.
Now and then it’s important for an activist of faith to do some soul searching with God. What are you doing? Why are you doing it? Is God with you on this?
Elijah experienced burnout and renewal
Twice in Elijah’s life story, we see him in hiding, scared and frustrated, overwhelmed to the point he wants to die and asks God to let him. He suffers from exhaustion, fear, frustration and self doubt. Twice God comes to him like a gentle parent, giving him bread, telling him to drink some water and have something to eat. Elijah rests, gets some sleep, and is fed by God until he is ready for a new mission, and sets out restored and reassured.
If you’re overwhelmed or burned out, let God care for you for a while. Rest, get extra sleep, until you’re ready and receive new guidance.
Elijah encounters God profoundly
God calls Elijah to the mouth of the cave he has been staying in, and invites him to experience him passing by. There is a mighty wind, but the wind is not God. There is an earthquake but neither is this God. When Elijah hears a “still, small voice” within himself, in a gesture of reverence as he covers his face with his cloak, recognizing the presence of the Lord.
Draw from the Source of all life, and practice attentiveness to God’s presence at all times. You will grow exponentially in love, strength and compassion, reflecting the Lord you love and listen to.
Elijah mentored the next generation to take on the work
An important part of activism is handing on the spirit of the work to the next generation. Elijah, after training Elisha at his side, grants him a double portion of his spirit before he is taken up to heaven. Elisha takes the mantle of his mentor over his shoulders, going on to do the great work of a prophet.
Whatever form of activism or mission you are involved in, always take time to talk to interested young people and pass on your wisdom and experience.
I’ve been so worried about so many things going on in our country, in our world. Maybe you have been too. Let us look to the Prophet Elijah to light our way, asking him for a double portion of his spirit, praying for the knowledge of his will for us and the power to carry it out. * from the 11th Step of AA
“The lord lives! I am standing in his presence.”
*Antiphon from the Carmelite proper, feast of Elijah the Prophet, July 20
You’re walking down a narrow country path. It’s craggy and a little steep. You have a good view of surrounding hills dotted with wildflowers and sycamore trees. You see a little group of houses in a valley below and decide to investigate. As you near the town, a strange sense of excitement speeds your steps. Now you start running. It’s spring, the sun is shining, the sky is a clean gentle blue, the air is sweet. You can’t help yourself. You knock on a door you have come to, not knowing what to expect. Someone says “Come in,” so you gently push the door open.
A girl sits on the beaten earth floor near a window, a bowl of figs in her lap, dressed in the soft white of a bride. You realize it’s Mary.
Sit in front of her now. Something has happened to her. She doesn’t move though she sees you. Her eyes are wide as if she has something incredible to tell you. Ask her what she wants to say. Listen to her as a gentle breeze blows her veils and ruffles your hair, kissing your cheek. What does she say?
She reaches her hands out to you as she talks. Explore these hands. What are they like? Maybe you want to kiss them or hold them to your face.
When she is finished with her story, thank her with all your heart for what she has done. Renew your commitment to her. Look at her awed and joyful face. She is so glad you, her friend, are here with her at this moment. Pray a slow, attentive Hail Mary now, never taking your eyes from her.
She feels like singing, and in her sweet, untrained voice, she sings something familiar to you.
“My lover speaks and says to me,
“Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one,
and come!
For see, the winter is past,
the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth,
the time of pruning the vines has come,
and the song of the turtledove is heard in our land.
Bethany Hang Out 