Catholic Transcript Online

Huh?

Last year, I wrote a column about a young man named Andrew who proposed marriage to a young woman named Tierney. As soon as Tierney said yes, Andrew got down on his hands and knees, removed Tierney’s shoes, and proceeded to wash her feet. The symbolism was clear: their marriage would be a life of service, and that service would begin with Andrew.

I was hopping mad as I left Mass at my friend’s parish. It was two months ago on the 10th anniversary of Sept. 11, and the Mass readings were all about forgiveness. In fact, Jesus made it plain that God will forgive us only if we forgive others. That’s scary stuff.

The homilist mentioned the events of 9/11, then preached about the importance of forgiving family and friends who have hurt us.

There was no mention of forgiving the terrorists.

For John Thomas

The little stick turned pink. She was pregnant.

The news was met with joyful fear, or perhaps fearful joy. After all, they were barely scraping by as a family of three; how would they manage another baby? Still, Oliver and Johanna wanted this new child. They were just frightened. Johanna worked full-time. Oliver worked part-time and was also a full-time graduate student. Together they cared for their young toddler with help from grandparents. The couple had very little money but they shared a deep faith in God’s saving love.

For Mary Regina Martin, who kept me going

It happens often. I’ll be taking a brisk walk around the block in inclement weather when a neighbor stops to chat. "Why are you walking in this awful weather?" the neighbor invariably asks. "This awful weather" can mean heat, cold, snow, rain or any variety of New England storm.

It is, arguably, the most common question that Catholic parents ask one another: How do you get your kids to go to church?

It’s the wrong question.

We should be asking, "How can I get my kids to fall in love with Jesus?"

The former is just a body in the pew. The latter is a relationship that lasts into eternity.

As Mass ended, my friend and I followed the crowd into the warm sunshine. We greeted the priest, then proceeded to the shade of a nearby tree to chat.

"You know what bugs me?" my friend Annie complained, seemingly out of nowhere. "Why do all of our clergy have to be celibate? How can they possibly understand married life, or children, or the workplace, when all they know is celibacy?" It was clear that she had been stewing about this matter for a while.

Part of an occasional series on living with hardship

The year was 1942, and Holland was under Nazi occupation. The elderly Casper ten Boom and his middle-aged daughters were leading quiet lives as watchmakers until Jewish neighbors began disappearing.