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Every Aug. 15, the church universal celebrates that moment in history when “the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever-Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory” (Pope Pius XII). Mary’s Assumption (known as the Dormition, or falling-asleep, in the Eastern churches) is celebrated not only because it commemorates the conclusion of her earthly life, but also because her Assumption is what constitutes “our life, our sweetness, and our hope.” In Mary, “we contemplate what the church already is … and what she will be in the homeland at the end of her journey” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 972). Mary is the eschatological icon of the church, the glorified image of what we hope to become after wandering in this vale of tears. She is the first to be divinized, glorified in body and soul. Her own falling asleep in the Lord “is a singular participation in her Son’s Resurrection and an anticipation of the resurrection of other Christians” (Catechism, 966).
If by “new normal” we mean a life-changing event has occurred, and we are constantly adapting to the latest information, then I think we have fully settled in to a “new normal.” This is not a static normal, but a state of constant adjustment. When I hear the phrase, “in these uncertain times,” I long for certainty.
About 100 children of Vatican employees attending a summer camp for the month of July received a surprise visit July 20 from Pope Francis, who walked there alone from his residence, the Domus Sanctae Marthae.
Like many good Catholic kids, my siblings and I played “house” when we were young, which included dressing up for Masses that I as the oldest boy would celebrate, dressed as St. John Bosco, and my sister would attend, dressed as St. Thérèse of Lisieux. These games of our youth came full circle in the past month, when I was ordained a transitional deacon and my sister made her final vows as a Carmelite sister.
Not even a year ago on Sunday, Aug. 18, I arrived at my new home, St. John Paul II Seminary in Washington. A million things were going through my head: excitement and fear, joy and anxiety, certainty, and uncertainty. It almost did not seem real that I, a teenager who’d spent my whole life being home-schooled in rural Front Royal, was going to study at a seminary and university in the country’s capital. I had no idea what to expect.
As I enter my fifth year of seminary, I also returned this summer to the diocesan WorkCamp for the fifth time. Over the years, I have been a contractor, adult leader and seminarian visitor to WorkCamp, which generally hosts more than 800 students for a week of construction on homes of the needy, deep spiritual growth, and all sorts of team building and parish-vs.-parish challenges. This year I was more skeptical as COVID-19 pushed WorkCamp Re-Boot to the local parish setting with livestreamed evening programs, just a couple hours of work each day and face masks galore.
Approaching the main entrance to Sacred Heart of Jesus Church in Winchester, one of the first things you’ll notice is a 1,640-pound bell, consecrated in 1880, enshrined on a pedestal between the church and the rectory. The bell is a prominent reminder of the history of the parish, which this summer celebrates its 150th anniversary.
The diocese is holding two events in August to address racism: a prayer service Aug. 1 and a presentation and dialogue Aug. 25.
I spent a few hours in utter frustration several days ago. The goal planner that I’d so carefully tucked into a very specific drawer before the packers came was nowhere to be found. At the last minute, our movers canceled and new movers were hired. The first movers had advised us not to empty drawers; they’d move with contents intact. The newly hired movers took everything out of drawers and put them in boxes — so many boxes. And my place to sketch out goals and dreams and to journal my way through the year still has not been found.
Are you a student of Christian life?
Recently, I played a very enjoyable round of golf with a friend of a friend for the first time. This gentleman has a very solid golf game which is an absolute pleasure to watch. He has a very consistent swing and a putting routine that is well-tuned and effective. He plays golf with a certain ease and comfort; that is, he can hold a conversation with you that is personal and thoughtful. At the same time, he is quite focused on the game he is playing, paying attention to important details like the direction and strength of the wind, the speed of the greens and where to land on the green so that you have an uphill putt. It became very obvious to me that this guy is a real student of the game of golf.