Saturday, January 3, 2026

Thoughts on baptism

 

Christmas Weekday

John 1:29–34

Friends, today’s Gospel reports John the Baptist’s testimony about Jesus.


One of the earliest descriptions of baptism is vitae spiritualis ianua, which means “the door to the spiritual life.” To grasp the full meaning of this is to understand something really decisive about Christianity. 


For Christianity is not primarily about “becoming a good person” or “doing the right thing” or, in Flannery O’Connor’s famous phrase, “having a heart of gold.” Let’s face it: Anyone—pagan, Muslim, Jew, nonbeliever—can be any of those things.


To be a Christian is to be grafted on to Christ and hence drawn into the very dynamics of the inner life of God. We become a member of his mystical body, sharing in his relationship to the Father. 


It is so important that we are baptized “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” For baptism draws us into the relationship between the Father and the Son, which is to say in the Holy Spirit. Baptism, therefore, is all about grace—our incorporation, through the power of God’s love, into God’s own life.


Bishop Robert Barron



Friday, January 2, 2026

Thoughts on the Epiphany



This Sunday we celebrate Epiphany, a central mystery of the Christmas season. The prophet Isaiah proclaims the core of the feast: “Rise up, Jerusalem, your light has come.” That light is the appearance of the Son of God among us. The word epiphany means “manifestation,” and this feast celebrates the moment when the newborn Savior, through the visitation of the Magi, is revealed not only to Israel, but to all the nations. The light that once guided Israel’s journey now shines for all peoples and every age.


Isaiah foretells that the “wealth of nations” will be drawn to this light: caravans from the East, bearing gifts and proclaiming the praises of the Lord. These gifts are more than gold, frankincense, and myrrh. They symbolize what all people bring into an encounter with God, and what we bring to Mass every Sunday – our lives, our struggles, our hopes, offered to God so that they may be transformed. The true wealth of nations, then, is not silver or gold, but the sons and daughters of every land who come to kneel before Christ.


In their journey, which included an inward search for truth, the Magi discovered not an idea but a Person: God’s Son lying in a manger. This shattered their expectations, and so they knelt and did him homage. The encounter changed not only the course of their journey home but, indeed, their very lives. And so it is for us.


From encounter with Christ flows mission. We who have sought and found him—or been found by him—do not simply return home unchanged. We are sent forth to live what we have received, so that others, through our words and actions, may be drawn to Christ.

Fr. Richard Hermes, S.J.



Thursday, January 1, 2026

Thoughts on New Year's Day

 

New Year's Day



All is quiet on New Year's Day
A world in white gets underway
I want to be with you
Be with you night and day
Nothing changes on New Year's Day
On New Year's Day

I will be with you again
I will be with you again

Under a blood red sky
A crowd has gathered in black and white
Arms entwined, the chosen few
The newspapers says, says
Say it's true it's true...
And we can break through
Though torn in two
We can be one

I... I will begin again
I... I will begin again

Oh...
Maybe the time is right
Oh... Maybe tonight...

I will be with you again
I will be with you again

And so we're told this is the golden age
And gold is the reason for the wars we wage
Though I want to be with you
Be with you night and day
Nothing changes
On New Year's Day
On New Year's Day


U2 - War (released Feb 28, 1983)

Songwriters: NICHOLAS HANSON, MOUSSA CLARKE, PAUL DAVID HEWSON, DAVID EVANS, LAURENCE MULLEN, ADAM CLAYTON
 
New Year's Day lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group






Thoughts on the Mother of God

 

Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God

Luke 2:16–21

Friends, today we celebrate the Blessed Virgin Mary as the Mother of God.


St. Irenaeus says that, throughout the history of salvation, God was trying on humanity, gradually suiting divinity and humanity to one another—preparing for the incarnation. All of that preparation was a prelude to the Israelite girl who would say yes to the invitation to be the Mother of God.


To say that Mary is the Mother of God is to insist on the density of the claim that God truly became human. As Fulton J. Sheen commented, Mary is like the moon, for her light is always the reflection of a higher light.


Catholic theology has drawn a further implication from Mary’s status as Mother of God—her role as Mother of the Church. If she is the one through whom Christ was born, and if the Church is indeed Christ’s mystical body, then she must be, in a very real sense, the Mother of the Church. She is the one through whom Jesus continues to be born in the hearts of those who believe. This is not to confuse her with the Savior, but it is to insist on her mission as mediator and intercessor.


Bishop Robert Barron




Wednesday, December 31, 2025

Thoughts on Holy Scripture

 

Behold, I Make all Things New - A New Year’s Reflection

Jewish tradition has a beautiful understanding of sanctity. Its holy ones are known as tzaddikim. A tzaddik is one who faithfully lives the commandments (mitzvot) and acts with compassion and humility. Their life integrates the will of God, the Law, and the world around them. In mystical Judaism, particularly Hasidism, the righteousness of the tzaddik sustains not only their community but the entire world. Their holiness radiates beyond Israel to the nations - to all of creation itself. They accomplish this by uniting their lives to the Torah (the first five books of Scripture), which is understood as the Word of God at the heart of creation.

Throughout the Old Testament, each great tzaddik is entrusted with sustaining the world in a particular moment of history. Yet no single tzaddik is wholly perfect. Jacob, for example, resorts to deception in order to advance God’s providential plan - securing the blessing that Isaac was prepared to give to Esau despite Esau’s disregard for the covenant and Rebekah’s prophetic insight. Jacob later struggles to hold together a divided family: two wives and their children, each representing a different spiritual path through their names - Leah embodying fruitfulness and fidelity through joy, and Rachel embodying love marked by longing and suffering. In each wife, there are echoes of the other: Leah experiences sorrow as Rachel experiences joy. Despite Jacob’s efforts, the union remains fractured.

Joseph, Jacob’s son, becomes the next great tzaddik. Through profound personal suffering in Egypt, he continues the healing work begun by his father. Joseph succeeds where others failed: through forgiveness, he brings spiritual reconciliation to his family, and through wisdom, he preserves them materially during famine. Through Joseph, Israel survives. Yet the healing is not complete. The descendants of Israel must still atone for their sins; joy and suffering must become one. Joseph’s protection does not endure forever, and the Israelites are eventually enslaved in Egypt - mirroring Joseph’s own suffering and serving both as just consequence for their betrayal of him and as a means of unifying the people through shared suffering. When the time is fulfilled, God raises up Moses to lead them out of bondage, but Moses’ own sin prevents him from entering the Promised Land.

These stories reveal a pattern: each righteous one strives toward holiness yet falls short. Each wrestles with personal and collective sin in the work of restoring creation to God’s perfect will. Yet their labor endures. They do not give up. From generation to generation, each successive tzaddik brings healing to the people. God is generous in His gifts, honoring their struggle for holiness in a fallen world. Most importantly, the true lesson is not simply what each tzaddik did, but how they did it: by uniting their lives to the Word of God and becoming living echoes of that Word.

The Jewish people continue to await the final tzaddik: one so perfectly united to the will of God that he becomes the living Torah - the Word enfleshed. This one they call Moshiach, the Messiah.

“And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.” — John 1:14

One of the great tragedies of human history is that when the Messiah took flesh and walked among us, so many failed to recognize Him. Many still do. And in truth, despite opportunities to encounter Christ all around us, we miss Him too - catching glimpses here and there. The question for all of us is: how can we see more clearly?

Unlike every tzaddik before Him, Jesus is not just a holy man. He is the Word of God at the heart of creation. He did not need to unite Himself to the Word. He is the Word. While man alone cannot bring Salvation, Jesus can. Instead of Israel striving to ascend to God, God united Himself to Israel in a descent of love so he could stand in their place. He fulfilled the prophets: He entered and left Egypt as a child, crossed the Jordan, chose twelve apostles corresponding to the twelve sons of Jacob, and reversed the sin of Adam and Eve by sweating blood in a garden and hanging upon a tree - the new Tree of Life. He surrendered His spirit after praying the Psalms. Humanity could not become the Word, so God entered creation as the living Word and became one with His people. From Jerusalem, His saving work went out to the whole world. In a few short centuries he conquered Rome - the enemy of Israel - and made it his Church. Through the Catholic Church, His name is proclaimed among the nations. He is the Messiah.

What does this mean for us as Christians? As members of the New Covenant, we are called to love Jesus so deeply that we seek to unite our entire lives to Him first and foremost by allowing him to work in us. We no longer work out our holiness through the Mosaic Law; we work it out through union with our Beloved. Through dying to ourselves in love and becoming one with Christ, we discover joy within suffering. This is why Jesus speaks of Heaven as a wedding feast and calls the Church His Bride. In love, we become one flesh with Christ, so that when others look upon us, they no longer see us - but Him. This is the difference between a tzaddik and a saint.

But how do we do this?

St. Jerome famously said, “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.” We unite ourselves to Jesus by immersing ourselves in the Word of God, asking the Holy Spirit to illuminate our minds and hearts. We read Scripture as a lover studies the face, heart, movements, and thoughts of the beloved. We lay down our own will in humility and love. We consummate this union sacramentally by receiving Christ in the Holy Eucharist as often as possible. And when we fall into selfishness and sin, we return to Him through reconciliation. Unlike Jacob who saw a ladder of ascent to God and wrestled with an Angel, we allow God to descend into us and carry us up the ladder.

In this way, something even greater than the work of the ancient tzaddikim unfolds - greater even than the Temple of Solomon. In the ancient temple, only the high priest could enter the Holy of Holies, yet every time you receive Holy Communion, you become a living Holy of Holies. This is a mystery that Jacob, Joseph, Moses, and the prophets would have longed to experience. These men who are greater than you or I missed out on a profound gift that so many of us take for granted. The gap between human imperfection and the perfect Word of God is healed by the Word’s desire to become one with us. By receiving God’s love and surrendering to His holy will at work within us, we are united to the Word at the heart of creation as part of His very body - and through us as members of His body, a new creation flows into the world.

As we approach the New Year and consider our resolutions, let us recommit ourselves to the essentials: studying our Beloved in Scripture, receiving Him in the Holy Eucharist, and seeking His mercy through frequent confession. Above all, let us do so with love, intentionality, and awe at the God who makes all things new - including time at the turning of each new year, including you, and including me.

May God bless each of us with renewed faith in 2026 and a renewed world in Christ,

Matt and the Catholic.Store team



Tuesday, December 30, 2025

Thoughts on the Presentation

 

Sixth Day within the Octave of the Nativity of the Lord

Luke 2:36–40

Friends, today’s Gospel concludes Luke’s account of the presentation of the infant Jesus in the temple.


The presentation of the Lord goes on now in our churches, in our temples, at the Mass. We say that the Mass is the source and summit of the Christian life, for it effects even now, applies even now, the salvific power of the cross.


And at the heart of the Mass, of course, is the Eucharist, which means thanksgiving. Listen to what Luke says about the prophetess Anna, who was a temple person through and through. Upon seeing the Christ child, “she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were awaiting the redemption of Jerusalem.” 


That’s our task and our privilege even now.


Bishop Robert Barron



Sunday, December 28, 2025

Thoughts on the family

 

Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph

Matthew 2:13–15, 19–23

Friends, on this feast of the Holy Family, our Gospel shows us Joseph and Mary’s flight into Egypt, pursuing their mission to protect the Christ child. This story prompts me to say something about the Christian family’s mission.


The family is, above all, the forum in which both parents and children are able to discern their missions. It is perfectly good, of course, if deep bonds and rich emotions are cultivated within the family, but those relationships and passions must cede to something that is more spiritually focused. 


A biblical prioritization of values helps us to see what typically goes wrong with families. When something other than mission is dominant—a son’s athletic achievement, a daughter’s success at university, etc.—family relationships actually become strained. The paradox is this: Precisely in the measure that everyone in the family focuses on God’s call for one another, the family becomes more loving and peaceful.


John Paul II admirably summed up what I’ve been driving at when he spoke of the family as an ecclesiola (a little Church). At its best, he implies, the family is a place where God is worshiped and where the discernment of God’s mission is of paramount importance.


Bishop Robert Barron