Rural life is a daily challenge to survive on most days; we citizens blessed enough to live in the beauty of the country often are too busy trying to get by to really enjoy all the scenic views of the rural landscape.
At this very moment I am looking at the tree-line between my property and the old Gilbertson Farm west of our home and billowing out in huge clouds of white smoke are the fiery fingers of flames that are consuming my neighbor’s cow barn.
On Independence Day we celebrate the anniversary of the day that the Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776. We also express our admiration and gratitude for the brave men who risked their lives and fortunes to sign this great document.
Bishop Paul Swain once wrote that in his judgment the most famous words related to the Declaration of Independence are, “We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.”
The Pledge of Allegiance reinforces the Declaration’s statement that God is the source of our nation’s independence. In 1952, the Knights of Columbus urged Congress to introduce a resolution to add “under God” to the Pledge of Allegiance. The resolution was introduced by Congressman Louis C. Rabaut of Michigan and adopted by both Houses of Congress. It was signed by President Eisenhower on Flag Day, June 14, 1954.
I was fascinated by an article I read this morning over my coffee and cereal.
It was in the July issue of Ladies Home Journal, and written by Michael J. Berland, president of a polling and research firm, who states, “Sure, her family makes her happy, but despite what society expects, a woman’s sense of fulfillment comes from being independent and having a sense of control over her own life.” He calls this the silver lining on that recession cloud because it has driven so many women to become actively involved in their family finances.
Strange as it may seem, I’ve been vaguely worried about the beatification on May 1 of a man with whom I was in close conversation for over a decade and to the writing of whose biography I dedicated 15 years of my own life.
My worries don’t have to do with allegations of a “rushed” beatification process; the process has been a thorough one, and the official judgment is the same as the judgment of the people of the Church.
I’m also unconcerned about the fretting of ultra-traditionalists for whom John Paul II was a failure because he didn’t restore the French monarchy, impose the Tridentine Mass on the entire Church, and issue thundering anathemas against theologians and wayward politicians.
As soon as I heard my wife burst out the bathroom door that sunny spring day, I knew she was pregnant. I hadn’t yet opened my eyes but I didn’t need to. Her footsteps told me everything.
My wife didn’t have any particular reason to believe she was pregnant. But after a couple years of praying for a second child, I’d grown accustomed to Laura taking random pregnancy tests — hoping against hope that somehow that second pink line would appear. This time it did.
The days ahead were as joyful as any we’d experienced in our life together. We beamed when friends who knew of our struggle with secondary infertility congratulated us and we devoured all the fetal development materials we could find, eager to mark every last milestone in our baby’s nascent life.
When a recent series of health problems prevented me from my usual daily activities, including daily Mass, I felt loved by the attentions of my family.
They bought my groceries, picked up my prescriptions, and took me to the doctor. I found myself saying, “Okay, Lord, I get it. That’s why you gave me so many kids. Now give me back my independence.”
A widow told her son she sometimes wished that when she died, she could be buried with a fork in her hand. When he asked her “why,” she explained that at a banquet, the head waitress often requests that we keep our fork because the best is yet to come.
She told her son because of our faith in the resurrection, and God’s mercy, that after death the very best is yet to come — the priceless gift of eternal life. Christ’s resurrection gives us hope of enjoying eternal happiness in heaven.
It is not easy to block out the multiple cries of pain and suffering that permeate the world. It is almost deafening.
All one has to do is turn on the radio, read the newspaper, watch television, or go online. We are bombarded with news of pain and suffering, almost to the saturation point. I think of the people in Libya, Haiti, Japan, and others affected by war and natural disasters. It gives me an overwhelming feeling.
A couple of years ago I attended several lectures on the martyrs of El Salvador who were killed during a civil war that took place there in the 1970’s and ’80s. Archbishop Oscar Romero, four women missionaries, and several Jesuits — only to name a few of hundreds of people — were brutally murdered because they spoke out against the intense suffering of the Salvadoran people and a system of government that perpetuated it.
When Matt Hasselbeck, the Seattle Seahawks quarterback, was a Boston College junior, he volunteered to spend eight days in the missions of Jamaica during spring break.
The people’s poverty shocked him. But their faith, especially the faith of George McVee, a leper, inspired him.
George, a horribly disfigured leper, had no money, no nose, no feet or hands. Yet he daily thanked God for his blessings.
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Perhaps one of the most hotly contested issues of the Church, the topic of abortion, often arises when somebody finds out we don’t condone it.
The Church has taught from early times that life is to be protected in all forms and time periods. We’re often asked: Why is it wrong? How can you discriminate against mothers?
Here are a few ways to explain the moral evil of abortion in a completely secular way, that will make sense to any reasonable citizen.
