by Mary Clifford Morrell
Many years ago, while our six sons were young and we were still adventurous, we drive across the country from New Jersey to Montana with our friends and their five children. When we were not taking a headcount, we were often spellbound by the magnificence of Creation that greeted us at every turn, reflecting the nature of our Creator—unlimited generosity, love, and potential.
God uses the lush, rolling hills of Virginia, the mystery of Devil's Tower, the rock art of the Bad Lands, the majestic rises and wildlife of the Grand Tetons, the expansive star-filled night skies of Montana, and everything in-between—the palette of living color and form to gift us with Creation continually.
When we arrived home, and every year since, I have been blessed with an opportunity to reflect on Creation's potential whenever I see the unique weed tree on the corner opposite my house.
It began to grow up between the cracks of cement into the narrow metal track of a street sign, over which it now casts a delightful shadow. It comes to life every spring and has patiently grown from a single stem peeking out over the sign to a lush plant, whose leaf-filled branches belie its very slender trunk hidden within the metal track.
Its life reminds me of all life's potential, and therefore, each of us as God's children.
Sadly, for innumerable reasons, including a tendency to focus on our imperfections, many of us forget our divine nature, including the potential to grow even in the most challenging circumstances. Too often, our potential goes unmet, even unrecognized. Our creative spirit is often sublimated, and we feel sad or incomplete, not understanding why.
However, like the weed tree growing to new heights in the street sign, when we know who we are and what we were meant for, our need to grow will push us to break out in one way or another.
We are meant to live our divine nature, to live in communion with our God and each other. Our lives and our world could be healed and made whole if we could recover our sense of being sacred and recognize that wholeness and holiness are the same.
As we enter the New Year, which is always a time for hope, we might allow ourselves to be spellbound by the magnificence of Creation and remember that we are a part of the gift. We have the potential to grow and blossom within what may seem like the many cracks of our lives.
We can begin by having faith in ourselves and remembering the words of Saint Francis de Sales: "Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them — every day begin the task anew."
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Sellars Malloy
Question of the Week - The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph
Pulling into a parking spot at the fabric store, I opened my car door and was putting on my mask when an elderly woman rolled down her window, pointed to my car, and said, "I wish I had never gotten rid of mine. It was the best car I ever had." Now, you might think I drive some luxury vehicle, but the truth is that I drive a small 2014 hatchback with nearly 100,000 miles on it to date. We are not talking about anything fancy or new.
Delightfully, her simple comment opened the door for continued conversation. I asked her what good bargains she would found at the fabric store, and she explained that she had needed to purchase interfacing for masks she was making. These masks were going to workers at a local hospital where her brother works. Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she also shared that she had bought some Pittsburgh Steelers material to make three special masks for her brother. Now, you need to know that I live in the Cincinnati area, and the Steelers and Bengals are HUGE rivals. She and I had a good laugh over what she was doing, and she confessed that she was also making three Bengals masks to give to him after he first received those Steelers masks.
The conversation then turned to phones. Her children had insisted on buying her one of the newer models to both see and hear her grandchildren. She shared that she did not yet have the hang of how to make it all work, but she especially liked being able to see her grandbabies.
Before we knew it, about a half-hour had passed. She then said to me, "I hope you do not mind talking with me. I have been home alone and not going out, but I needed this interfacing. It was just good to talk with a real person today."
When we think about those who need our compassion and kindness right now, we might not think of those parked next to us in the parking lot. However, my parking lot experience is a good reminder that there are many opportunities to extend compassion and kindness as we go about every day's business. The invitation is to keep our eyes and ears open for the chances to listen, converse, encourage, and bless all who are a part of our family, the family of God.
Mary Sellars Malloy has over forty years' experience as a Catholic educator and lay minister. She is a frequent workshop presenter on prayer, liturgy, spirituality, the Sacraments, and the RCIA. Also, Mary leads retreats and parish missions throughout the country. Her goal is to encourage Catholics of all ages to appreciate and to live their Catholic faith.
by Mary Sellars Malloy
Question of the Week - The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas)
A friend and I recently enjoyed a Saturday drive up to the beautiful countryside of northeastern Ohio. On the way, she played a mix of music, including Christmas carols and favorite holiday standards. It prompted me to ask her, “What is your favorite Christmas carol?” She replied that she likes carols that speak of night and silence and stillness. I shared that my favorites are the joyful “Angels We Have Heard on High,” “Joy to the World,” and “Good Christian Friends, Rejoice!”
The angels in today’s Gospel (see Luke 2:1-14, from the Mass at Midnight) tell us that theirs is the good news of great joy meant for all people. It is Good News meant for the whole world.
It has been a year of change, confusion, anxiety, and fear. I have often written of what a temptation it could be to close ranks, stay in the safe shelter of our own homes, and think only of our self-care and self-preservation. Nevertheless, there is a much larger picture. There is a world filled with people who still need to hear the Good News of great joy.
Christmas is not just a day; it is a season. It is not too late to speak the healing word, send a message of encouragement, give a gift that says “I am thinking of you,” donate to a ministry serving your community’s and the world’s most vulnerable people, or intentionally create some opportunities for the proclamation of joy and Good News in your family and home. Such actions have ripple effects that carry joy’s message out into the world, proclaiming God’s glory beyond our original hopes and intentions.
Merry Christmas to all! Today, and throughout the Christmas season, join me not just in singing, but in proclaiming: “Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her King!”
“Joy to the World”
Text: Isaac Watts
Mary Sellars Malloy has over forty years’ experience as a Catholic educator and lay minister. She is a frequent workshop presenter on prayer, liturgy, spirituality, the Sacraments, and the RCIA. Also, Mary leads retreats and parish missions throughout the country. Her goal is to encourage Catholics of all ages to appreciate and to live their Catholic faith.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
For most of us, the holidays are a time of traditions, when memories of past celebrations help frame our present rituals, and “do you remember” is a big part of dinner conversation.
As an only child living in upstate New York, my memories of Christmases past always include a quiet morning with my parents, opening gifts spilled out from under an artificial tree decorated with the biggest lights I can remember, wrapped in garland and weighed down with silver icicles. By today’s standards, it might have been garish, but then it was wondrous.
We visited family to “see their tree” and sit around the table and eat … and talk. I do not remember exchanging gifts, probably because the talking and sharing food was the most meaningful part of the day. When we returned home, we arranged our opened gifts neatly under the tree and left them there for several days. Each time we entered the living room, it was like Christmas day all over again.
I remember needing to shovel snow from the driveway, hot chocolate, and Mamool, a Syrian pastry made with cream of wheat and groundnuts, and I remember a few favorite gifts – like the guitar my parents hid in the coat closet, my first transistor radio and my powder blue ice skates.
But the most memorable gift, and continues to make a difference in my life even today, was a set of large, beautifully illustrated books of Old and New Testament stories, books of memories of both the Hebrew and Christian people.
The stories and colorful prints that accompanied them introduced me to King Solomon, who wisely settled an argument between two mothers claiming the same baby by suggesting the child be divided in half and shared. The real mother quickly became apparent as she offered to give up her child to save his life.
I came to know Daniel, who survived the lions’ den through God’s intercession and saw the Tower of Babel fall as humanity strived to become like God. However, the story that most fascinated me was Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego – the three young men who survived being thrown in a fiery furnace because an angel of the Lord walked with them in the fire.
Like so many figures in Scripture, these were people through whom God carried out his work, whose faith in God gave them life, made them strong and resilient, with an ability to transform others. So when I first encountered Jesus in the sacraments, classroom, and Scripture, I recognized in him those who had come before him. In those memories, I also recognized whom I was supposed to be.
Pope Francis has said, “Memory makes us draw closer to God. The memory of that work which God carried out in us, in this recreation, in this regeneration that takes us beyond the ancient splendor that Adam had in the first creation.”
The Holy Father calls us to consider always, “What’s my life been like, what was my day like today or what has this past year been like? (It is all about) memory. What has my relationship with the Lord been like? Our memories of the beautiful and great things that the Lord has carried out in the lives of each one of us.”
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Sellars Malloy
Question of the Week - Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year B
Today we hear the Gospel proclaimed just a couple of weeks ago, on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. In my reflection for the solemnity, I suggested a simple ritual prayer that focused on surrendering the seemingly impossible situations in our lives to God’s care.
In these few remaining Advent days, consider beginning each day with an adaptation of that prayer. Cup your hands before you, and pray, “God, today, I place my life in your hands.” Sit in silence for a moment or two. Then raise your hands and surrender yourself to God’s care, praying: “May it be done to me according to your word.”
As you go about the work and play of your day, be aware of the many ways that God is acting in your life, blessing you, encouraging you, providing for you, answering your prayers, delighting you, and surprising you. At the end of each day, write these memories on paper strips and place the papers in a gift bag. Then, on Christmas Day, find a few quiet moments to sit and enjoy your memories of God at work in your life.
With this ritual, you could invite the whole family to take part in, praying the ritual prayer together each morning, writing memories, placing them in the gift bag each evening, and reading aloud everyone’s memories as a shared prayer on Christmas Day.
Even in this challenging year of 2020, wintertime, our disappointment at not being able to gather together with family and friends physically, God has a good plan for our lives. God is working in our midst. God is walking with us every step of the way. May our physical eyes and the eyes of our hearts recognize God’s presence at every turn. May we pray with Mary, “May it be done to me according to your word.”
Mary Sellars Malloy has over forty years’ experience as a Catholic educator and lay minister. She is a frequent workshop presenter on prayer, liturgy, spirituality, the Sacraments, and the RCIA. Also, Mary leads retreats and parish missions throughout the country. Her goal is to encourage Catholics of all ages to appreciate and to live their Catholic faith.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
Every year, as my husband puts up the Christmas manger he built for us many years ago, I think back to the first time I discovered a ceramic goose among the small group of animals looking in on Mary and Joseph.
At the time, I laughed and thought, "Why not?" There are geese in Bethlehem, and why should sheep, oxen, donkeys, and camels be the only ones blessed with such a privilege?
Since then, each year's Nativity scene on our lawn is bound to include a new member of the menagerie—a brightly painted bullfrog, a few pelicans, a squirrel sleeping in a hammock, most of which are added by young grandchildren who do not think any animal should be left out of the most important night of all.
Considering animals' intuitive nature, it is likely hosts of angels were not the only ones gathering that evening in Bethlehem. The manger was possibly visited by geese, deer, badgers, porcupines, bats, hyenas, leopards, and even sand rats. Certainly, there were mice. The Son of God would surely welcome animals of all sizes, shapes, and natures.
Scripture exclaims, "… ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the heavens and they will tell you, or the bushes of the earth and they will teach you, and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? In his hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of all mankind" (Job 12:7-10).
However, Scripture does not mention animals' presence in the stable on the night of Jesus' birth, so tradition has added them for us.
We owe that tradition to St. Francis of Assisi, who, in 1224, planned a living recreation of the birth of Jesus to fill the local villagers with the spirit of Christmas. With real people dressed in robes and real animals gathered outside a cave on the outskirts of town, St. Francis urged the people to remove hatred from their hearts and rejoice in the season of Christ's birth.
Along with his live nativity scene, Saint Francis also used music to teach his flock about the birth of Jesus Christ. Tradition credits St. Francis with adding religious lyrics to popular tunes and creating the first Christmas carols.
There is also a tradition that, at the birth of Christ, even the animals bowed down.
Thomas Hardy, the famed poet and novelist, immortalized the image in his poem, The Oxen:
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
"Now they are all on their knees,"
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.
We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.
(Excerpt)
Of course, we have no proof of such a thing, but the idea reflects the words of the Psalmist: "All the earth bows down to you; they sing praise to you, they sing the praises of your name" (66:4).
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Sellars Malloy
Question of the Week - Third Sunday of Advent, Year B
On this Gaudete Sunday, the “Sunday of Joy,” I am reminded of a hymn text written by the late Sylvia Dunstan, titled “We Will Rejoice.” The strong call to justice is echoed in her poetic lyrics: “When the Lord redeems the very least...When the hungry gather for the feast...When the Lord restores the sick and weak...When the earth is given to the meek...When the Lord revives the world from death...When the Word of God fills every breath, we will rejoice!” In beautiful contrast, composer Shirley Erena Murray wrote, “And God will delight when we are creators of justice and joy, yes, God will delight when we are creators of justice, justice, and joy!”
Both hymn texts point to kingdom building and kingdom living as the source of real joy. Furthermore, each text clarifies that there is a strong connection between works of justice and the gift of joy. The true joy of the Lord will come when all have enough to eat, the sick are healed, the hungry are fed, the poor have safe shelter, and all lives are treasured, cherished, and cared for.
As we travel the remaining days of Advent to the celebration of Christmas, let us take on the challenge to do the work of justice by being creators of joy. Our First Reading (see Isaiah 61: 1-2a, 10-11) reminds us that the spirit of God is upon us, anointing us for this vital work. Whether we create joy by writing Christmas notes, delivering Christmas cookies, donating socks and mittens to the homeless, packing boxes of food for the hungry, befriending a classmate or coworker, or shoveling a neighbor’s snowy sidewalk, the kingdom comes! And God delights in every act of justice and joy that we do.
“We Will Rejoice” text by Sylvia Dunstan, copyright 1991 by GIA Publications, Inc.
“A Place at the Table” text by Shirley Erena Murray, copyright 1998, Hope Publishing Company.
Mary Sellars Malloy has over forty years’ experience as a Catholic educator and lay minister. She is a frequent workshop presenter on prayer, liturgy, spirituality, the Sacraments, and the RCIA. Also, Mary leads retreats and parish missions throughout the country. Her goal is to encourage Catholics of all ages to appreciate and to live their Catholic faith.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
Like most parents, when my children were growing up, I did a lot of watching and waiting. I think the waiting was harder of the two. It involves a certain amount of trust to overcome any doubt or fear, which may be part of the wait.
We lived close to a neighborhood park, which my sons liked to frequent. They would get together with their friends and ride, as a group, down to the small creek running through the park, race their bikes down a sloped path, play sports, or get into whatever mischief young kids do when they are enjoying a bit of freedom.
Nevertheless, as dusk started to fall, I would take my place on the street corner behind my house and peer down the road into the park, anxiously waiting for a sign of furious pedaling that would bring them all home safely.
I often felt like the father looking off into the distance for any sign of the prodigal son, except this was a frequently recurring scene, and I spent much time worrying.
I am reminded of this experience every Advent, not only because Advent is a time of watching and waiting, but because my most difficult times of waiting always seemed to be at night, especially when grown-up children started driving the car.
During his homily in St. Peter’s Basilica on the first Sunday of Advent, Pope Francis underscored that Advent is a time of “God’s closeness and our watchfulness.” He continued, saying, “It is important to remain watchful because one great mistake in life is to get absorbed in a thousand things and not to notice God,” then sharing the worlds of St. Augustine, “Timeo Iesum transeuntem” (I fear that Jesus will pass by me unnoticed).
“Having to be watchful, however, means it is now night,” said the Holy Father. “Yes, we are not living in broad daylight, but awaiting the dawn, amid darkness and weariness.”
Weariness is such a powerful word to describe how most of us feel, having traveled so long through this pandemic and having no specific end in sight. However, I imagine Mary and Joseph suffered from a similar weariness as they traveled the long road from Nazareth to Bethlehem, expecting the birth of their child at any time and then to be turned away from the inn when they needed a clean and safe place the most. They may have lost hope if not for their faith in God.
“The light of day will come when we shall be with the Lord,” Pope Francis reminds us. “Let us not lose heart: the light of day will come, the shadows of night will be dispelled, and the Lord, who died for us on the cross, will arise to be our judge. Being watchful in expectation of his coming means not letting ourselves be overcome by discouragement. It is to live in hope.”
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Sellars Malloy
Question of the Week - The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Today I would like to encourage you who have faithfully prayed for many months or years for the impossible to become possible in your life or the life of another. This Gospel reminder—“[N]othing will be impossible for God”—is a word of encouragement for each of us to keep praying and trusting in God’s timing and God’s divine plan. Perhaps our most vital connection with today’s Gospel (see Luke 1:26-38) is with Elizabeth’s story, for she waited several years for the seemingly impossible to happen in her life too.
If we were together today, face-to-face, I would sing to you “Bambelela,” a traditional South African refrain. As translated by Mairi Munro and Martine Stemerick, this encouraging song reminds us: “You must never give up, never give up, never give up, never give up. Never, never, never, never, never, no never, never give up!”
Remember, Saint Monica never gave up praying for Augustine’s conversion, and he eventually became one of the great Doctors of the Church! Simeon and Anna never gave up praying that they would live to see the Promised One, and they did indeed see the baby Jesus! Many of our grandmothers, mothers, and holy ones have prayed for us since our births. Their sacrifices and prayers have carried us through many difficult situations and blessed our lives in many untold ways.
If you have grown weary of praying and if hope is dim, meditate today on the angel’s words to Mary. Cup your hands before you and name aloud all the things you need to surrender to God’s care. Then raise your hands and surrender those things to God, saying, “God, receive my prayer. I believe that nothing will be impossible for you. Amen.”
Mary Sellars Malloy has over forty years’ experience as a Catholic educator and lay minister. She is a frequent workshop presenter on prayer, liturgy, spirituality, the Sacraments, and the RCIA. Also, Mary leads retreats and parish missions throughout the country. Her goal is to encourage Catholics of all ages to appreciate and to live their Catholic faith.by Mary Sellars Malloy
Question of the Week, December 6, 2020, Second Sunday of Advent, Year B
The year 2020 has undoubtedly been an exercise in patience on many levels! We have done much waiting—for answers, for vaccines, for some sense of normalcy.
In today’s Second Reading (see 1 Peter 3:8-14), we are reminded that God has been patient with us and that we are awaiting new heavens and a new earth. We are charged to wait in peace.
Let us take that charge and make it the heart of our prayer this second week of Advent.
When we are put on hold for the thousandth time, and the repeating message and background music are driving us crazy, let us pray again and again the words, “Patience. Peace.” When we don our masks to do some holiday shopping and are standing on our socially distanced “X” behind ten other people, let us pray again and again, “Patience. Peace.” When it has been a long day and the traffic driving home from work is especially heavy, let us pray right where we are, “Patience. Peace.”
Moreover, no matter how much we love our family, when we have had a bit too much togetherness, closed in with each other because it is too cold and wet to go outside, let us light a candle, gather our family members around us, and pray together, “Patience. Peace.” (End that prayer with cups of hot cocoa all around!)
Yes, that first batch of Grandma’s Sugar Cookies might come out of the oven just a little crisp around the edges. The perfect gift you ordered for a friend might be on backorder. The usual holiday markets, theater outings, concerts, and special gatherings at church and with extended family may be canceled or seriously modified, but in faith, He calls us to continue to prepare our hearts and our homes for Christ and for Christmas to come.
This week, let us with great hope and faith pray these two powerful Advent words for ourselves, for others, and the world: “Patience. Peace.”
Mary Sellars Malloy has over forty years’ experience as a Catholic educator and lay minister. She is a frequent workshop presenter on prayer, liturgy, spirituality, the Sacraments, and the RCIA. Also, Mary leads retreats and parish missions throughout the country. Her goal is to encourage Catholics of all ages to appreciate and to live their Catholic faith.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
Now that December is here, we may find ourselves acutely aware of time, how much or how little we have in light of how much we need to accomplish before Christmas arrives.
Our focus is on linear time, clicking forward second by second without a pause, keeping our sights forever on the future, and in the process of keeping time, we often lose our ability to live in the present.
Maybe that is why I love the moments when I can stop to make a cup of tea. It is something I learned from my mom as a child. However, I learned the best way to drink my tea from an unexpected find in a used book store tucked away in the Pennsylvania mountains. “Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the whole earth revolves - slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future,” shared Buddhist teacher Thich Nat Hahn.
Of course, not every cup of tea can be sipped in this fashion. My oldest grandson loves to tease me every time I brew some tea by asking, “Do you think you will drink this cup before it gets cold?” Predictably, it is always cold when I finish, unless they have all gone to bed for the night.
But when I can drink my tea slowly and reverently and allow myself to be absorbed in the present moment, I also find any feelings of stress or anxiety slip away, balanced by a sense of peace.
Sacred time has the feel of those moments of absorption. Being mindful of the sacredness of time encourages us to be mindful of God and nurtures awareness.
Engaging in the rituals of our faith, surrounded by sacred symbols drawn from our ordinary lives – bread, wine, water, oil, flame – reassures us that all of life is sacred. The rhythm of the liturgical year reminds us that life must have a meaningful rhythm, as well.
With Advent the season of expectant waiting and watching for Jesus, as well as marking the beginning of a new liturgical year, it offers a meaningful opportunity to move out of linear time for a while and reflect on the sacred; to create quiet spaces in each day, to pray for peace for ourselves, our families, and others; to recall what this period of time might have been like for Mary and Joseph as they also watched and waited for the birth of Jesus, and consider what it all means for us some 2,000 years later.
This year has been complicated and full of stress, anxiety, changes, and, often, insurmountable challenges. Advent is a perfect time to try and step away, if only for a few moments, from the struggles and anxiety and rest in God.
On the first Sunday of Advent, Pope Francis reminded us, “Advent is the season for remembering the closeness of God who came down to dwell in our midst.”
The Holy Father also encouraged us to include among our prayers the traditional Advent prayer: ‘Come, Lord Jesus.’ “We can say it at the beginning of each day and repeat it often, before our meetings, our studies, our work, making decisions, and in every important or difficult moment of our lives: ‘Come, Lord Jesus.’”
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.