These three gentle men — a doctor, a man with special needs, and a parish priest — reflect the nobility of soul so needed in our world. I say thank you, thank you, thank you. Your lights will shine forever.
It was a year ago on March 14 when the first death from COVID-19 was confirmed in New York City. It was that same date that the Diocese of Brooklyn suspended public Masses and our parishes ceased public worship in order to help mitigate the spread of the virus, deadly to so many.
If there is one thing that humanity has learned to do over the last year, it is to wait. Wait while in quarantine. Wait until we “flatten the curve.” Wait for a vaccine. Wait for an appointment to get vaccinated. Wait to see your loved ones again. Wait for the economy to open again.
Here in the Diocese of Brooklyn, there is a deeply respected and highly regarded Roman Catholic-Jewish dialogue where leaders of both faith traditions come together as thought-partners to discuss critical theological and social histories and attitudes.
When I was in eighth grade, I almost suffered a heat stroke in Death Valley during a family road trip through the Southwest. Conditions on that day were particularly brutal, and thankfully a nearby country store stocked dry ice.
This coming year will undoubtedly be challenging on many fronts. In the model of St. Francis de Sales, and with the sanctity of journalism in mind, good journalism in 2021 can be a community builder that joins us in the common knowledge of what is happening, what to believe and how to move forward.
Much has been written in the secular media on President Joe Biden’s overt Catholicism and how that might challenge the already complex and daunting tightrope walked by Catholics in the public square.
Well, that is a presumptuous declaration to make as there has been a “year of Advent” since the first millennium. But, the truth is, so often I have let it pass unnoticed.
For people who like to know what’s what (and you know who you are!), it’s a bit of a challenge sometimes to accept the mystery that is at the heart of our faith. Yet there’s a profound beauty and comfort in that, too, because it is through the Sacraments, Mass, Scripture, and Prayer that our Trinitarian God reveals Himself to us slowly, lovingly, surprisingly, if only partially. It’s an ever-evolving relationship. And when it comes right down to it, isn’t that true of all intimate relationships?
Self-care for all Americans is on the top of our minds, especially as we approach the holidays. We are told we must not isolate ourselves because it’s not good for our mental health, and yet gathering together can be detrimental to our physical health. Navigating this time well is difficult and can seem like an impossibility.