As Christians, we all know how central light is to the story of our faith. The creation story opens with “Let there be light.” And Matthew introduces Jesus with a quote from the prophet Isaiah: “The people who sit in darkness have seen a great light” (4:16). When we look up at the stars or face the glorious rising sun, it is this sacred story that we are wrapped in.
On Saturday, July 15, I traveled to St. Fidelis Parish in College Point to attend a Mass of Resurrection for a man named Albie. I never met Albie in person, but I knew about him from my Dominican sister friend, Sister Ruth Lautt, OP. Sister Ruth coordinates the St. Fidelis Street Ministry that offers every first Saturday of the month to bring food and clothing to people in need.
This past month, I have read with interest many accounts of World Youth Day and the experiences shared by my younger sisters and brothers in Christ as hundreds of thousands of them experienced their pilgrimage to Portugal.
Thousands of young people from around the world have anticipated the first days of August. We are all descending on the city of Lisbon for World Youth Day. Started by Pope St. John Paul II in 1984, World Youth Day is the celebration of the Church’s commitment to its youth and provides time and space for encounters with Christ.
I am on my way to attend World Youth Day in Lisbon, Portugal. I am going on behalf of the Pontifical Mission Societies, to share with other young Catholics the work of the Missions and how we can help, even if we cannot go to all 1,150 territories ourselves.
“Auntie, you’re a stormtrooper, and you have to chase me.” Jackie, my four-year-old niece and a Star Wars fan, said this to me as we played in the yard. She handed me a stick that would serve as my blaster, while her own longer stick became a lightsaber.
We have just commemorated the second anniversary of the custodial martyrdom and institutionalized murder of Jesuit Father Stan Swamy on July 5.
On July 6, we celebrate the feast of St. Maria Goretti, who died on that date in 1902 at age 11 after suffering a brutal attack by 20-year-old Alessandro Serenelli.
Reading The Tablet’s article featuring tributes to religious sisters triggered a fond memory for me. While I was reading the part dedicated to the Sisters of Charity and the work they did among the poor, under the direction of Mother Seton, I noticed the article mentioned one of the places they had in Brooklyn, St. Joseph’s Hall.
Growing up, my father took our family hiking and fishing almost every Saturday. My mom, big sister, golden retriever, and I happily packed into the old Buick station wagon for Dad’s adventure. With a picnic basket full of goodies and the dog’s drool splattering across us in the backseat as she excitedly stuck her head out the window, the Buick crossed the George Washington Bridge to Seven Lakes Drive or further to the Catskill Mountains.
