Near the end of his new encyclical “Magnifica humanitas,” Pope Leo XIV senses that his reader may be feeling overwhelmed. “At this point,” the Holy Father writes, “a subtle temptation may emerge, namely the thought that the problems are too big and we are too small, and that our choices, therefore, cannot make a difference.”
Your voice is valuable, rooted in your inherent dignity, and it continues to matter regardless of changes in law or policy.
Legislative vigilance is essential. So is building the culture of life by expanding access to palliative end-of-life care.
“Centesimus annus” was a call to think about free politics and free economics as more than mechanisms. Democracy and the market, the Pope John Paul II insisted, are not machines that can run by themselves.
The Catholic history of the Mid-Atlantic offers a particularly revealing case. In New York, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey, Catholic life took shape unevenly, shaped as much by law and political culture as by migration and missionary effort.
The need to freshly understand the meaning of our humanity is as important — if not more important — than ever.
Over these 75 years, I have experienced the vocation of sanctity in so many ways, each of which has left its imprint on my soul and my spiritual life.
Pardon the Latin-rooted neologism, but if “patricide” works for murdering your father and “regicide” for taking out a king, why not “ecclesiacide” for trying to kill an entire Church?
This Mother’s Day, if your parish adds anything to Mass, let it be words of love. Prayers that celebrate motherhood as a calling.
Once you hold the host in your hands, and realize that the gift of the Eucharistic presence came from what looked like absence, you realize the paradox of every powerful love.
