From the Editor’s Desk
THE FULFILLMENT OF GOD’S PROMISES
Advent is a season of hope. It is the beginning of the liturgical year, and a time for us to reflect on the second coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, as well as the long centuries of yearning by the Israelite people for the Messiah promised by God.
During the Babylonian Exile, the ancient Israelites pondered everything that led to the fall of their holy city, Jerusalem, and the destruction of Solomon’s Temple— God’s dwelling place on earth that had stood for more than four hundred years. They must have felt God abandoned them, perhaps because of the sins of their kings or because of their own personal sins. Many of the psalms and the Book of Lamentations give us a window into their psyche.
They knew God promised to send someone who would save them and restore them to their former glory. They held on to the hope that God would be faithful to His promises and bring them to fulfillment no matter how impossible it seemed at the time. In darkness, they prayed, waited, and longed for God to send someone who would restore everything that was lost.
At this time of year, we place ourselves in the spiritual space of the Israelite people, longing for Jesus in our hearts. We, too, live in exile, knowing that this is not our permanent home and we are pilgrims on a journey. We often find ourselves oppressed by internal and external forces, wondering why God allows events to happen to the point it seems the enemy will be victorious.
While we are blessed and have the advantage to live in the age after Christ walked on the earth, we must still live out our salvation seeing things through a glass darkly (1 Cor 13:12) as we await the coming of our Lord. God’s ways are not our ways, and we are not promised that things will always make sense to us on this side of heaven.
However, we know the end of the story. We know that through Jesus Christ the light conquered the darkness, good conquered evil. Hence, we do not put our hope in earthly things. In Jesus, the world got so much more than what the Israelites hoped for: the Messiah promised by God was not a political king or a military leader, but a Savior on a much more profound level.
All of God’s promises are fulfilled in Jesus in ways the ancient people could not have comprehended or even dreamed. He is the True Temple, bringing God’s actions and intentions closer to us in a way that we can truly understand—a tangible expression of the Father’s love and mercy. Through His life, death, and Resurrection, Jesus reveals Himself as the Son of God who reconciled us to the Father, fulfilling the promises made to our spiritual ancestors and offering us the path to eternal life. In Him all things are restored—made new—and His kingdom will last forever.
With the help of the Holy Spirit, we can fully believe that sin and death do not have the last word… Christ does. That is our reason for hope. And that is the reason for our Christmas joy.
As you read the stories in this and future editions of The Catholic Telegraph, you will find signs of hope that God is working through the people of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati to build up the Kingdom of God here and now. We pray that He brings the good works of the faithful to fulfillment. And, as we near the end of the Jubilee Year of Hope, I wish you and those you love a blessed Advent and a Merry Christmas.
David Cooley
cteditorial@catholicaoc.org
Publisher: Archbishop Robert G. Casey
Editor: David Cooley
Graphic Design: Emma Cassani
Media Sales: Deacon Graham Galloway
New Media / Circulation: Greg Hartman
Photography: Mary Fleisher
Social Media: Taylor Motley
Video: Margaret Swensen
The Columnists
Father David Endres
is professor of Church history and historical theology at Mount Saint Mary’s Seminary & School of Theology.
Dr. Kenneth Craycraft
holds the James J. Gardner Chair of Moral Theology at Mount St. Mary’s Seminary & School of Theology. He is the author of Citizens Yet Strangers: Living Authentically Catholic in a Divided America.
Dr. Andrew Sodergren
is a Catholic psychologist and director of psychological services for Ruah Woods. He speaks on the integration of psychology and the Catholic faith. He and his wife, Ellie, have five children.
Emma Cassani
is the graphic designer behind The Catholic Telegraph and author of Divine Seeing , which earned first place for Best Column in Arts & Leisure from the Catholic Media Association in 2025.
Dominick Albano
is a passionately Catholic husband and father of four boys. He has been writing, speaking, and leading Catholic retreats for more than 20 years. He is the co-founder of the National Society for Priestly Vocations.
Katie Sciba
is a national speaker and Catholic Press Award-winning columnist. She and her husband Andrew were married in 2008, and are blessed with seven children.
If you would like to share a thought, ask a question, or simply gush, please email cteditorial@catholicaoc.org and we will connect you to the writer. We apologize if someone doesn’t respond, but please know we appreciate and love hearing your feedback!
The Pope’s Prayer Intention
DECEMBER
For Christians in areas of conflict
Let us pray that Christians living in areas of war or conflict, especially in the Middle East, might be seeds of peace, reconciliation, and hope.
Between Hope and Its Fulfillment
INTO YOUR HANDS | Archbishop Robert G. Casey
In the month ahead we will celebrate Advent and Christmas. As we chant “O Come, O Come Emanuel,” Advent days will teach us prayer and patience as we long for the coming of our Savior. When we finally sing out “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing,” Christmas days will call us to celebrate our Savior’s arrival. Each of these seasons offer us necessary lessons in life. We live as an “in-between” people—between prayer and its answer and between hope and its fulfillment. Yes, the Son of God, Jesus, came into our humanity long ago. And, yes, that same Jesus will come again to lead us to the fullness of salvation. In between those two moments, we live in joyful expectation of finding Jesus in our midst every day.
The mother of Jesus, Mary, finds her way into our hearts to help us. In the month of December, we will celebrate her Immaculate Conception as well as her appearance to St. Juan Diego as Our Lady of Guadalupe. These moments reveal to us a Blessed Mother ready and willing to comfort her children in their longing. Just as any mother holds a crying child and gives it comfort, Mary takes us into her arms when we are hungry and upset. When we are uncomfortable with the current state of things and find ourselves longing for a better life and world, Mary’s voice can be heard, “Am I not here, I, who am your mother?”
Together with that comforting mother’s presence, St. Joseph, the dutiful husband of Mary, gives us an example of steadfast faith, hope, and love. Together with Mary, we also journey with Joseph on the way from hope to fulfillment. Joseph, with his steady heart and upright character, can teach us how to remain calm amidst the calamities that threaten our hope and push us toward despair.
The Holy Family lived life much like we do. Their experiences, whether as refugees seeking a home in Egypt or in the day-to-day routines of Nazareth, can instruct us today. In his marriage to Mary and in his role as foster father of Jesus, Joseph never had all the answers. He learned to trust and to hold onto his faith amid fear. The uncertainties he faced with Mary and Jesus did not move him to despair or despondency but establishes him as a model of hope for each of us.
Amid Advent’s longing, we celebrate Gaudete Sunday, a day that takes its name from the Latin word for rejoice. Even though we have not yet arrived at Christmas, we choose to rejoice. Despite the many unresolved hopes and prayers in our hearts, like Joseph, we will not surrender to despair or despondency. We celebrate even while the journey is incomplete.
On Gaudete Sunday in 2014, Pope Francis celebrated Mass at a local parish in Rome. During the homily, he spoke of the importance of not becoming a people overwhelmed and embittered by so many unanswered prayers and unfulfilled hopes. Pope Francis said, “It is harmful to find Christians with embittered faces … Never, never was there a saint with a mournful face, never! Saints always have joy in their faces. Or at least, amid suffering, a face of peace.”
Mary and Joseph reveal to us faces of joy and peace. And through their intercession in this holy month of December, we pray that we may come to accept our lives as an “in-between” people. Between prayer and its answer and between hope and its fulfillment, may we not despair or grow bitter but remain ever joyful in our expectation.
May God bless you and your family this Christmas and throughout the new year. ✣
Entre la Esperanza y Su Cumplimiento
EN TUS MANOS | Arzobispo Robert G. Casey
En el próximo mes celebraremos el Adviento y la Navidad. Mientras cantamos “¡Oh ven! ¡Oh ven, Emanuel!”, los días de Adviento nos enseñarán la oración y la paciencia mientras anhelamos la venida de nuestro Salvador. Cuando finalmente cantemos “¡Ángeles cantando están!”, los días de Navidad nos llamarán a celebrar la llegada de nuestro Salvador. Cada uno de estos tiempos litúrgicos nos ofrece lecciones necesarias para la vida. Vivimos como un pueblo “en medio”—entre la oración y su respuesta, entre la esperanza y su cumplimiento. Sí, el Hijo de Dios, Jesús, se encarnó hace mucho tiempo. Y sí, ese mismo Jesús volverá para guiarnos a la plenitud de la salvación. Entre esos dos momentos, vivimos con la gozosa expectativa de encontrar a Jesús entre nosotros cada día.
María, la madre de Jesús, encuentra la forma de entrar en nuestros corazones para ayudarnos. En el mes de diciembre celebraremos su Inmaculada Concepción, así como su aparición a San Juan Diego como Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe. Estos momentos nos revelan a una Santísima Madre, dispuesta y atenta para consolar a sus hijos en sus anhelos. Así como cualquier madre acuna a un niño que llora y le da consuelo, María nos acoge en sus brazos cuando estamos hambrientos y afligidos. Cuando nos sentimos incómodos con el estado actual de las cosas y anhelamos una vida y un mundo mejores, podemos escuchar la voz de María: “¿acaso no estoy yo aquí, que soy tu Madre?”.
Junto con la reconfortante presencia de esa madre, San José, el fiel esposo de María, nos da un ejemplo de la esperanza, el amor y la fe inquebrantable. Junto con María, también acompañamos a José en el camino de la esperanza al cumplimiento. José, con su corazón firme y su carácter honesto, puede enseñarnos cómo mantener la calma en medio de las calamidades que amenazan nuestra esperanza y nos empujan hacia la desesperación.
La Sagrada Familia vivió una vida muy parecida a
la nuestra. Sus experiencias, ya sea como refugiados buscando un hogar en Egipto o en la rutina cotidiana de Nazaret, pueden enseñarnos hoy. En su matrimonio con María y en su papel de padre adoptivo de Jesús, José nunca tuvo todas las respuestas. Aprendió a confiar y a aferrarse a su fe en medio del miedo. Las incertidumbres a las que se enfrentó con María y Jesús no lo llevaron a la desesperación ni al abatimiento, sino que lo establecen como un modelo de esperanza para cada uno de nosotros.
En medio de los anhelos del Adviento, celebramos el Domingo de Gaudete, un día que toma su nombre de la palabra latina que significa regocijo. Aunque aún no ha llegado la Navidad, elegimos regocijarnos. A pesar de las muchas esperanzas y oraciones sin resolver que albergamos en nuestros corazones, como José, no nos rendiremos a la desesperación ni al abatimiento. Celebramos incluso cuando el camino aún no ha terminado.
El Domingo de Gaudete de 2014, el Papa Francisco celebró la Misa en una parroquia local de Roma. Durante la homilía, habló de la importancia de no convertirse en un pueblo abrumado y amargado por tantas oraciones sin respuesta y esperanzas incumplidas. El Papa Francisco dijo: “Hace mal encontrar cristianos con la cara amargada … Nunca, nunca un santo o una santa tuvo la cara fúnebre, ¡nunca! Los santos tienen siempre el rostro de la alegría. O al menos, en los sufrimientos, un rostro de paz”.
María y José nos revelan rostros de alegría y paz. Y por su intercesión en este sagrado mes de diciembre, oramos para que podamos llegar a aceptar nuestras vidas como un pueblo “en medio”. Entre la oración y su respuesta, y entre la esperanza y su cumplimiento, que no desesperemos ni nos amarguemos, sino que permanezcamos siempre alegres en nuestra expectativa.
Que Dios los bendiga a ustedes y a sus familias esta Navidad y durante todo el año nuevo. ✣
There is No Hope for What Cannot Be
LOOK | Dr. Kenneth Craycraft
Even before you reach the end of this sentence, you will begin to hum in your head the tune of the silly little song, “High Hopes,” written by Jimmy Van Heusen and Sammy Cahn and made famous by Frank Sinatra. “Just what makes that little old ant think he’ll move that rubber tree plant?” the song asks. The implication, “as anyone knows,” is that “an ant can’t move a rubber tree plant.” But in the song, the ant does move the rubber tree plant. And later, a goat punches a hole in a dam even though, again, we know that is impossible. So why could the ant and goat achieve these impossible feats? Because they have “high hopes.” In other words, the song implies if you hope hard enough, you can do the impossible.
This is not what hope means, at least not in the Christian tradition. Indeed, it is the opposite of authentic hope. One cannot hope for an impossible outcome or occurrence. And if we think that hope somehow implies that anything is possible for one who hopes hard enough, we are missing the actual rich meaning of the virtue of hope. Moreover, if this is our understanding of hope, we expose ourselves to its opposite vice, despair.
A Theological Virtue
With faith and charity, hope is one of the three theological virtues, which predispose and orient a person toward a relationship with God. As gifts from God, the practice of these virtues animates our Christian lives and deepens our moral and spiritual development. The theological virtues are the necessary foundation for the cardinal moral virtues of justice, temperance, fortitude, and prudence, which govern the concrete moral actions of individual persons. Without
the theological virtues that orient us toward God, the moral virtues can never be properly ordered.
As one of the theological virtues, hope is the activity by which we perfect our desire to be united with God as our highest good and final rest. Hope is the action of placing our trust in the merits of the death and Resurrection of Christ. It is not mere wish or simple passive desire. Rather, as a virtue it is the proactive and deliberate exercise of the aspiration to be with God. Hope is not static wish but the practice of an intentional objective to enjoy the reward of heaven in eternal glory.
Hope and the Restless Heart
In addition to being a practice rather than mere wish, hope is the exercise of the natural inclination of the human person to fulfil our purpose in this life. This predisposition is sometimes called “synderesis.” Synderesis is the natural, albeit fallen, proclivity for humans to choose what is good for us. Of course, we are often mistaken about what we think is good, which is one implication of the fall in Genesis 3. The natural penchant to seek the good is damaged by sin, but it is not destroyed. Thus, the capacity of synderesis, properly directed, leads us toward our true good, as informed by faith.
The conviction that there is a true ultimate good toward which every human person is ordered is called “teleology,” derived from the Greek word “telos,” meaning end, completion, or final destination. This describes the theological principle that we are all ordered toward the common end of love for and rest in God. Without regard to history, race, ethnicity, linguistic, or other demographic factors, each of us is made
properly ordered toward God.
Together, synderesis and teleology are the framework for the doctrine of hope. Hope is the substantive expression of that natural inclination to seek what is good for us, and to orient our lives toward the perception of the good. This is, at least in part, why St. Augustine famously declared that our hearts are restless until we find our rest in God. The restlessness of which Augustine speaks is the natural inclination of synderesis. The hope of resurrection is the substance that fills that inclination as we turn our eyes toward the crucified and risen Christ.
Hope is not mere wish or simple passive desire. It is the proactive and deliberate exercise of the aspiration to be with God.
Holding Fast to Hope
As noted above, hope is only real when the object of our desire is something true and achievable. One cannot hope for something that is not real or that is not attainable. All these considerations are at work in the Book of Hebrews, where the author says, “Let us hold unwaveringly to our confession that gives us hope, for he who made the promise is trustworthy” (Heb 10:23). Our true hope is in the true Resurrection of our Lord, which we confess each Sunday at Mass. If Christ did not rise from the dead, hope is a delusion, not a virtue. Thus does St. Paul say, “If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are the most pitiable people of all” (1 Cor 15:19). Only if Christ is raised from the dead can we also have authentic hope in our own resurrection.
That little old ant can’t move a rubber tree plant. That’s a delusion. But we can be resurrected with Christ. That’s a high hope indeed. ✣
What should I do with used religious items that I no longer need?
QUESTION OF FAITH | Father David Endres
Catholics engage with their faith in bodily and material ways—not just genuflecting, kneeling, and making the sign of the cross but thumbing rosary beads, collecting holy cards, and praying before statues and artwork. Unlike members of some non-Catholic faith traditions, Catholics have long fostered a kind of tactile piety.
But all good things reach their useful end. We may wonder what to do with a broken rosary, a damaged crucifix, a worn-out Bible, or a long-weathered Virgin Mary statue. Can they be discarded or recycled? What is proper for these items with ties to faith and practice?
The Church does not offer much official teaching on the disposal of items. It is based on tradition and pious custom. However, some general guidelines can be followed, depending on the kind of item and whether it has been blessed and set apart for sacred use.
Sacramentals and Sacred Objects
Most religious items in people’s homes are classified as sacramentals, having received spiritual effects through the Church’s intercession and blessing. They are reminders of God’s grace and His presence in their lives. They include rosaries, crucifixes, saints’ medals, and scapulars.
Such material objects help direct the faithful to the divine and assist in their prayers and devotions. They are not sacraments, but can assist us in fruitfully receiving them (Catechism of the Catholic Church 1667, 1670). When blessed by the Church, an item is set apart for a sacred purpose. If an item is blessed (or if it is unknown whether it has been blessed), it should be treated reverently.
Objects that have an inherent connection to the sacraments—such as chalices (vessels to hold the Precious Blood), ciboria (for the consecrated hosts), and tabernacles (locked receptacles for the reservation of the Eucharist)—
are sacred. Church law teaches that “sacred objects, which are designated for divine worship by dedication or blessing, are to be treated reverently” (Canon 1171). They are not to be used for non-religious purposes or discarded without concern for their future.
Unusable or Unwanted?
In deciding what to do with religious items, it should be determined whether they can still be used; are they unusable or simply unwanted? If they are usable, some apostolates will accept them for redistribution (for instance, the St. Mary Recycle Mission Group: stmaryrecyclemissiongroup.com).
For unusable items, a respectful means of disposal is to either burn or bury them. Flammable items (e.g., Bibles or liturgical books) can be burned. Other items like statues, rosaries, or liturgical vessels can be broken or disassembled and then buried. This reflects the understanding that these items can no longer be used and should be returned to the earth.
This also prevents the items from being desecrated, discarded in the trash and ending up in a landfill, or treated as everyday objects (for instance, a chalice being used for ordinary drink). Items like chalices and ciboria—since they have held the Body and Blood of Jesus—need to be buried or melted down.
For items that are not blessed, such as prayer cards or unsolicited devotional items received by mail, they can be gifted to another, donated to an apostolate (such as an evangelization team or prison ministry), or discarded.
How we treat religious items expresses our respect for them and what they represent. Though the items may have no value in and of themselves, their meaning comes from their connection to the divine and to worship of Him. ✣
Hope Rising from the Ashes
MATT HESS
Asymbol of Christ’s Resurrection often seen in Christian iconography is the mythical creature known as the phoenix. This legendary bird dies in a flurry of flames only to be reborn from the ashes. The May 29 fire at St. John the Baptist Church in Maria Stein destroyed the sanctuary’s two stained glass windows, one of which displayed an image of the phoenix.
The church’s parish community, part of the Christ Our Light Family of Parishes, is now rising from the ashes of their historic church. Signs of hope and new life are visible as the community discerns its next steps.
“Some of our youngest parishioners call it ‘the broken church,’” said pastor Fr. Ken Schnipke, C.PP.S. “Other parishioners tell us that their heart aches each time they pass by.” St. John’s shell still looms large over the community, a reminder that, while the building might be “broken,” it remains at the heart of the Maria Stein Community. And there is much activity on its behalf off-site.
“The remaining church is now dormant,” Fr. Schnipke said, “but like the winter wheat being planted in the surrounding fields, new life and hope are already sprouting.”
Those seeds of hope were planted by the people who stepped forward to help. From the fire department, who valiantly fought the fire to save as much as they could, to Archbishop Robert Casey, who called on that fateful day and has since visited the community. FIRST ONSITE, a firm that specializes in such situations, has been instrumental in securing the site, removing the debris, pulling out sacred items, and helping with other contractors working at the site.
“Each parish in the Christ Our Light family has been graciously welcoming our parishioners and supportive in many ways,” said St. John parishioner Michelle Ashman, parish council president and member of the newly formed building committee. Precious Blood Church in nearby Chickasaw deserves commendation
for taking on St. John’s Masses and other scheduled events, offering a temporary home away from home. And the parish family’s other seven churches have shown support in various ways.
Since the fire, over 200 tons of debris were removed from the site, some of which was placed on a cart for parishioners and local people to take as a remembrance of the 1891 church. And many salvaged sacred items, such as vestments, candlesticks, crucifixes, and statues are being stored.
Through the reclamation process, signs of hope appeared amid the ruins. The statue of St. Joseph remains perched on a side altar. Christ, hanging on a cross above the organ, still stretched out his arms embracing the community. His hopeful Presence was also found in the sanctuary’s rubble when the intact tabernacle was found with sacred Hosts still inside.
In midsummer, the community hosted a special Thank You Prayer Service for the firemen and other first responders who battled the blaze at St. John. Recovered sacred items were available for parishioners to see and touch.
“A building committee was formed in late July to help the parish discern the future of St. John the Baptist Church,” Fr. Schnipke said. It is dedicated to bringing back a sacred space, the heart for the community, where the faithful can gather to encounter Christ through the sacraments.
Recalling the unique mission and traditions of St. John the Baptist Church, the committee’s “focus is to serve and represent St. John the Baptist Parish, the Marion Catholic Community, and the Christ Our Light Community for generations to come,” said Ashman.
But should the parish rebuild from the brick shell or start with something new? The answer is not easy and the committee is still gathering information, weighing options, and communicating with the community to make the best decision.
“A structural assessment in early August revealed that significant portions of the walls would need to be disassembled from the top down until a section is reached that has no damage,” said Fr. Schnipke. The parish will enlist an architect to help assess possibilities with the current structure and review the insurance estimate’s 400 line items. It is a monumental task.
Patience has been key in rising from the ashes. “It will take months to discern the future direction and design of St. John the Baptist Church,” Fr. Schnipke said. But the parishioners and staff have a patient and helpful mindset, and meetings continue with the local community to share new developments and hear their input.
The hope-filled expectations of St. John’s members fit well with the liturgical calendar’s Advent themes. “Hope is found in so many who have shared their prayers and support with us,” said Fr. Schnipke. The community recognizes the signs of hope in this experience and as they await the next steps for the church building. And these signs strengthen them to rise from the ashes, like the phoenix that graced their sanctuary and like Christ on the third day. ✣
If you would like to support St. John the Baptist Church during this holiday season, use the QR code here that will take you to a secure site to give—Thanks for your prayers and support!
Holy Family Catholic Church
Traditional Latin Christmas Mass
140 S Findlay St. • Dayton
12 a.m. (Midnight) High Mass
8 a.m. Low Mass
10:30 a.m. High Mass
(Carols begin 1/2 hour before High Masses)
Advent and Christmas
at the Cathedral Basilica of St. Peter in Chains
As we enter Advent, a season of preparation and hope, then joyfully celebrate the birth of Christ, the Cathedral Basilica of St. Peter in Chains offers us a prayerful and beautiful setting to mark these liturgical seasons.
“Everything about the liturgy at the Cathedral Basilica during our Advent and Christmas seasons is spectacularly beautiful and meant to draw each of us into the beauty of the love our God has for us in sending His Son,” said Fr. Jan Schmidt, rector.
In terms of music, Lessons and Carols begins the season on the first Sunday of Advent, interspersing Scripture readings with choral motifs and hymns for the congregation. The service commences in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel as the cathedral choir sings “Alma Redemptoris Mater” (Loving Mother of Our Redeemer), a Marian hymn expressing devotion to and the intercession of our Blessed Mother.
“The music and readings focus on the whole reason for Advent—preparing for the birth of our Savior,” said Matthew Geerlings, director of music for the Cathedral Basilica and Archdiocese of Cincinnati. “The service is both joyous and full of anticipation, just like the Advent season.”
“Lessons and Carols is unlike anything else we do,” added Blake Callahan, Cathedral Basilica organist. “It’s somewhere between a religious concert and a service and, for me, features some of the best music of the whole year.”
EILEEN CONNELLY, OSU
This year’s Lessons and Carols will be held Sunday, Nov. 30 at 2 p.m., and the lot next to St. Peter in Chains provides free parking.
Fr. Schmidt explained the Cathedral Basilica’s physical beauty during Advent and Christmas and other factors that help us enter more deeply into the nature of the season.
“In Advent, the overall sense of the season is one of ‘waiting,’” he noted. “We are waiting for two principal events that are fostered in the readings of the season, and each call us to a sense of introspection. The early weeks of Advent through December 16 are focused on the second coming of the Lord, so it is a period in which the purples of penitence and the stark nature of the art and environment help to get our minds focused on the need for change. A lone Advent wreath suspended from the ceiling is a fitting way to draw our eyes to heaven—our destiny for which we are preparing.
“On December 17, our readings portend the birth of our Savior and our celebration of His birth at Christmas. A sense of joy enters our liturgical scene, and thus decorations slowly begin to appear. Small flourishes of poinsettias and the appearance of evergreen in the decor … set the stage for the great feast of Christmas—the ‘feast of the coming of the Sun’ just over the horizon of our lives.”
St. Peter in Chains celebrates three vigil Masses on Dec. 24, at 3 p.m., 5:30 p.m., and 10 p.m. A wind trio will provide prelude music, a variety of Christmas favorites, before the
C
afternoon Masses. And a full orchestra will perform a large portion of Handel’s “Messiah,” beginning about one hour before the 10 p.m. Mass. Celebrating his first Christmas in the Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Archbishop Robert Casey will preside at the 10 p.m. vigil Mass and the Christmas Day liturgy at 10 a.m.
All are welcome to celebrate the beauty and joy of the season at the Cathedral Basilica.
“There’s such joy in the way we celebrate,” Geerlings said. “We’re unabashedly Catholic in both the music and the prayers, even the smells. There’s that little bit of extra incense on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. … We want people to have an experience here that makes them want to come back.”
“The beauty here may be experienced at any time of year,” Fr. Schmidt said, “but Advent and Christmas are a very special time, drawing us into a sense of warmth and comfort, knowing the love our Savior has for us. It is a time of yearning, and there is no more beautiful place in our archdiocese to do just that—to yearn for His presence and His peace, from the sounds of beautiful seasonal music to the atmosphere of holy day festivities throughout.” ✣
Sunday Masses
Saturday Vigil: 3:00 p.m.
Sunday Masses: 10:00 a.m. (Choir) & 4:00 p.m.
Weekday Masses
Monday-Friday:
7:00 a.m., 11:30 a.m. & 5:15 p.m. Saturday: 11:30 a.m.
Confessions
Monday-Friday:
7:30 a.m., 12 noon, & 4:30 p.m. Saturday: 12 noon - 2:00 p.m. No confessions on Dec. 24-25
Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament Thursdays: 12:00 noon – 5:00 p.m. ending with Benediction
Advent Lessons & Carols
Sunday, November 30 at 2:00 p.m.
Christmas Eve
Wednesday, December 24
Vigil Masses 3:00 p.m. & 5:30 p.m. Mass During the Night 10:00 p.m. with Archbishop Robert Casey (Carols with choir at 9:30 p.m.)
Christmas Day
Thursday, December 25 Mass at 10:00 a.m.
LBook Review
The Catholic Kids’ Cookbook
Haley Stewart & Clare Sheaf
The Shepherd’s Coat
Caryll Houselander
Illustrations by Jess Mason
MARGARET SWENSEN
ike many parents of young children, I prepare for Christmas in the weeks—or even months—before its arrival by keeping a list of my family’s wants and needs that can be wrapped and placed under the Christmas tree. The significant time and energy invested to meet the day’s material expectations often leaves little time or energy to spiritually prepare for the coming of Christ. Advent has become a season of anxious anticipation rather than joyful expectation. If you share in this annual battle to properly order your heart each December, Word on Fire Votive has published two children’s books that may help with both your material and spiritual Christmas preparations.
The Shepherd’s Coat is by beloved spiritual writer Caryll Houselander. Readers will walk, humbled and inspired, with twelve-year-old shepherd Benji as he seeks the Christ child, wanting nothing more than to give our Lord his first sheepskin coat. Houselander weaves this nativity story with the parable of the lost sheep, leading young Benji to discover a little boy, lost, cold, and afraid. Moved to pity, Benji gives his sheepskin coat—intended for Jesus—to this boy. For years after this act of generosity, Benji feels that in giving his first sheepskin coat to the boy, “he had given himself to the little lost boy” and could not, therefore, give himself to the “wonderful Boy of the angels’ song.” But as a grown man, Benji sees Jesus face-to-face and finally understands that his childhood prayer had been answered after all.
The Shepherd’s Coat will become a beloved story you and
your children return to each December, reminded with every retelling that no act of charity is wasted. Benji heard from the mouth of Jesus that, “On the Day of Judgment, people would find out with astonishment that little kind things they had done and forgotten were really done to the Lord, who would never forget.”
With hearts full, we turn to The Catholic Kids’ Cookbook, a simple but powerful tool to feed the hungry stomachs and nourish the yearning souls in our household. It follows the liturgical season from the beginning of the Christian calendar in Advent to its ending with the feast of Christ the King.
Each recipe is accompanied by beautiful and homey photographs, sacred art, and a brief explanation linking the recipe to Catholic tradition, a saint’s story, or Scripture. My children were immediately drawn to “Guadalupe Hot Chocolate” and “St. George’s Dragon Eggs.” Faith and food are seamlessly integrated, teaching our little chefs that preparation of a meal can also prepare a hospitable heart.
The Shepherd’s Coat and The Catholic Kids’ Cookbook remind us that sometimes meeting the physical needs of those around us—whether in the form of a warm coat, a hearty meal, or a thoughtful gift under the tree—can also meet spiritual needs. These books will help you live liturgically and build up your domestic church this Christmas and in the ones to come. May you and your family see a return of joyful anticipation this Advent. ✣
Do Not Be Afraid
FINDING FORGIVENESS AND FREEDOM IN CHRIST’S LIGHT
EMILY BRANSCUM
Three years ago, I was blessed with the opportunity to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. While in Bethlehem, I was deeply moved by a reflection on Luke’s Gospel. Standing in the fields where the shepherds once stood, I imagined myself alongside those shepherds, encountering the angels. As I journeyed to the Church of the Nativity, I joined the shepherds in proclaiming the need to “go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us” (Lk 2:15).
Reflecting on that verse this Advent season, I can’t help but see how the shepherds’ journey mirrors that of women and men who seek healing after abortion. Their journey, too, is one that begins in fear and darkness but concludes in hope and light.
Abortion has deeply wounded the human family. Along with the profound loss of life, each child lost leaves behind parents suffering in the aftermath. A meta-analysis published in the British Journal of Psychiatry compared the mental health of women who carried their pregnancies to term with those, in similar circumstances, who had an abortion. It found that the women who had an abortion had an 81% higher likelihood of subsequent mental health problems overall, including a 37% increased risk of depression, 34% increased risk of anxiety disorder, 110% increased risk of alcohol abuse, and a 155% increased risk of suicidal behavior overall (Coleman 2011).
It is estimated that one in four women will have had an abortion in their lifetime (Guttmacher 2014). These women are in our
families, churches, and communities, but often suffer in silence and isolation. Society tells them they should be proud of their abortion, while frequently silencing anyone who speaks about the pain it caused. And we in the Church can unintentionally deepen the feelings of loneliness and shame when, in rightly condemning the act of abortion, we use language and attitudes that further wound those suffering in its aftermath.
As a result, women and men who participated in abortion often carry this secret shame for years, some believing they will never find forgiveness and some believing they don’t even deserve it.
Yet, God’s mercy is for everyone. Just as the angels arrived in the shepherds’ field to announce the coming of Christ, so too does the Church, through Project Rachel, proclaim that Christ has come, not to condemn but to set free. Project Rachel begins with the angels’ invitation to “be not afraid” (Lk 2:10), offering a safe, confidential space where stories can be heard, sins forgiven, and wounds healed.
Project Rachel offers an integrated approach to healing that considers the whole person, from the spiritual and psychological to the emotional and communal. All these elements come together along the journey toward Christ and His light, which “darkness cannot overcome” (Jn 1:5).
One woman described her healing as slowly becoming aware of “exactly how much of God’s love I have been turning away.” She had always asked for God’s forgiveness in her life, but she wasn’t
fully surrendering to Him. She kept one part of her soul hidden. Project Rachel helped her open that corner to God’s light, allowing her to experience true freedom and peace. “If God has forgiven me, who am I to do my will and not forgive myself?” she said.
Healing is not always linear, and it involves self-honesty, reconnecting with the child or children lost, forgiveness, reconciliation, and a commitment to live a new life with Christ. Project Rachel helps bring to light that which was hidden. It is a journey like that of the shepherds. As they sought the Christ child, so too do the parents who work with Project Rachel seek to reconnect with their own children through Christ. They come to hold vigil at their own version of His manger, a place where they can entrust their precious children to the mercy of God.
While certain sorrows can remain after forgiveness and healing, those made new in Christ know that they are no longer controlled by their sin or shame. By God’s grace through Project Rachel, they too walk “glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen” (Lk 2:20). ✣
Emily Branscum is the Associate Director of the Office for Respect Life Ministries in the Archdiocese of Cincinnati.
If you or someone you know has been affected by abortion, call or text (513) 784-0531 or email us at ProjectRachel@catholicaoc.org for confidential help. You are not alone!
The Two Daughters of Hope: Anger and Courage
SHINE ON | Dominick Albano
Hope is a funny thing. Most people think of it like a wish…
“I hope the traffic isn’t bad.”
“I hope the Bengals win.”
“I hope it doesn’t rain.”
But real Christian hope isn’t a feeling or a wish. It’s a conviction.
St. Augustine once said that hope has two beautiful daughters: anger and courage. Now, anger isn’t the most beautiful sounding of emotions, so it’s important to understand that St. Augustine used anger in this case more like we would think of zeal: a holy anger at the way things are and courage to make sure they don’t stay that way. I know, I know … that’s not the kind of quote you’ll find printed on a Christmas mug at the tree farm gift shop. But it might be the most Advent thing ever said.
Because, Advent is not about waiting around with our hands folded. And it’s not about the hustle and bustle in preparation for Christmas morning either. It’s about living in the tension between what has been fulfilled in Christ and what is still being fulfilled in us.
In the Old Testament, the Hebrew word for hope, qavah, literally means “to wait in tension.” The word makes me think of how my wife and I felt in those last few days before our first son was born—eight days past his due date! Israel waited that way for the Messiah. It was an aching, tensionfilled longing. That’s the hope of the prophets, the psalms, a people, and a nation who trusted even when they couldn’t see.
Then, in Galatians 4:4, St. Paul tells us, “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law.” In the fullness of time. St. Paul uses the word pleroma. It’s not just that the waiting was over—the promise was fulfilled.
And yet, the story of salvation isn’t over.
So, we find ourselves living in this strange middle place.
The Messiah has come, yet the world is still groaning for the full fruits of redemption. Unlike the hope of the Old Testament—qavah—where we were waiting for fulfillment, we find in the New Testament the Greek word for hope: elpis, meaning a confident expectation rooted in something that has already begun.
A confident expectation. Not a wish. That’s the kind of hope that stirs something in us. It makes you restless. It gives birth to anger and courage.
Anger, because we see the brokenness and can’t pretend it’s fine.
Courage, because we believe God is already at work healing it… and He’s inviting us to help.
When a youth minister keeps showing up to minister to kids in an increasingly post-Christian world, that’s hope.
When a dad keeps praying for the son who’s wandered, that’s hope.
When a parish keeps the lights on and the doors open even when attendance is down, that’s hope.
It’s not passive waiting. It’s active anticipation.
That’s the Christian difference.
Secular hope crosses its fingers like a kid hoping to get a new video game for Christmas. Theological hope rolls up its sleeves, knowing we have a God who keeps His promises.
Advent is an incredible reminder of what will be, not what could be.
So, don’t be afraid to shine your light this Advent in a world that desperately needs it. Let yourself feel a little holy anger. Let yourself feel courageous. That’s just hope doing its thing.
Because hope’s two daughters are still alive and well, and they look a lot like a people who are answering Christ’s call in a world that desperately needs Him.✣
Make Jesus the Standard of Christmas
CATHOLIC AT HOME | Katie Sciba
At the time of this writing, my family of seven plus two mutts are in an Airbnb in our own town. Two weeks ago, a small leak in our bathroom turned into the space being gutted from water damage. We were assigned project managers, contractors, and an adjuster to boot. In insurance terms, we’re “displaced” and living away from home.
As soon as we realized the massive scope of demo and reconstruction, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work choosing flooring, paint, and a new cabinet. I was online and on the phone to move the process along, expecting that our rebuilt bathroom would surely be finished in a matter of days. Reality has been quite different from those accelerated plans.
There is a whole litany of inconveniences to our situation, from how tediously the process has dragged on to running back and forth from home to lodging because one of us forgot something. But at the end of the day, we’re all under the same roof, having dinner and praying before bed as usual. It has taken me weeks to realize for the thousandth time that God’s ways are above mine, and how He fulfills our needs is in line with His flawless plan. When I tell you nothing else matters, I mean that although the challenges and frustrations don’t disappear, they certainly shrink when considering this fact. The Lord has allowed it, so I’m confident every detail of our circumstance is for our benefit. My only task is to receive and respond, not control the outcome.
Focusing on the outcome is a popular trend in December, when wishes and plans run sky high. Whether we’re a little more tightly wound this month or we go with the flow, we will most certainly receive the peace of Christ if we fix our time and attention on Jesus. Remember that for the greatest Christmas in history, the dirty manger and messy stable were sufficient because they were outside the point. The point was that God entered humanity beyond giving us His image and likeness, in becoming one of us quietly and vulnerably. What made the day marvelous was not only the miraculous presence of the newborn Christ, but His parents’ steady gaze
upon Him. There was no great feast with family recipes, no picture-perfect decor. There was Jesus. Nothing else mattered.
Take the time to receive this Advent, and entrust the preparation of our hearts to the One who aches to be born within them. What does this look like practically? Recognize that Jesus is closer to you than your own soul, and include Him in your work.
Pray for family and friends while you’re wrapping gifts for them.
Pray the Joyful Mysteries for yourself and your family’s holiness.
Light candles in the evening.
Be renewed in the Sacrament of Reconciliation so you can see the Lord more clearly and imitate Him.
Turn on Christmas hymns while you cook or bake.
Read stories of the Old Testament to better understand the long anticipation for the Savior.
Stay home.
Spread favorite recipes and traditions out across the whole Christmas season rather than packing them in on one day.
Resist the hustle and bustle for the sake of calm and mild. The outcome of our work and intentions belongs to Christ. In at least your life, let December be known as a time of quiet concentration on Jesus. If our work feels incomplete or our efforts are full of interruptions, remember that Christ’s surroundings at birth were made wonderful because He was there. He comes hoping to find in each one of us a willing heart. Let Him reorder your priorities, steady your gaze, and teach you to rest in the truth that Emmanuel comes with peace. May this Advent be a gentle schooling in trust, and may Christmas find you not exhausted by striving but strengthened by His nearness. ✣
Already Hungry for Jesus
AUDREY MELTON
As a worship leader, there’s no better moment than when the people I’m leading sing out so loudly that we don’t need the microphone.
As a youth evangelist, there’s no better moment than when witnessing youth come into an encounter with the Person of Jesus and joyfully open and surrender themselves to Him for the first or the hundredth time.
This October at Exalt North, I was blessed to experience both moments together. As soon as Jesus in the monstrance was placed on the altar, the 2,000 teens filling Minster Elementary’s gym streamed down from the bleachers, fell on their knees, and filled the floor before the altar, their eyes and hearts fixed on their Living Hope.
This night is a highlight of our ministry year, marked by a dynamic speaker, worship through music, and—most importantly—the exposition and adoration of Jesus in the Eucharist. It’s the annual Exalt North event hosted by the Center for the New Evangelization and local parishes. As a former Catholic teenager myself, these “mountaintop” experiences are very familiar. And as I move from participating to leading, they are no less critical for the Church’s next generation, providing spaces where God’s glory and presence are well stewarded and invitations are made for a powerful and personal encounter with Jesus and the Holy Spirit.
As one student testified after Exalt, “When Father Ethan walked in with the monstrance, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. The words of the music … were just really inspiring and helpful with trying to connect with God.”
These moments are invitations and opportunities for conversion. Exalt North is a collaborative effort by a community of parish evangelists to bring youth to the mountaintop but also stands out in its ongoing
accompaniment down the mountain into the foothills, plains, and valleys of their daily lives.
At the event, one student expressed her revived desire to invest in having a personal relationship with Jesus: “I know what it was like to have God in my life at one point and … especially lately, it’s been super distant. But tonight, I feel like I’m ready to go right back into our relationship,” she said. “I’m ready, coming back stronger than ever.”
However, accompaniment with adult missionary disciples is key for preventing students’ mountaintop encounters from fading into the background when the valley casts shadows on their daily paths. Ignoring or being dismissive of young people’s real struggles and daily small moments is a disservice to them.
Events like Exalt have prompted parishes across the archdiocese to facilitate more Eucharistic encounters. Young people are encountering the Person of Hope daily, but they need adult disciples to love and accompany them for the encounters’ impact to last. Thus, relationally-based evangelization methods are growing in prominence and success.
“You can just tell that they’re hungry for Jesus, and they just don’t know where to get it,” said Natalie Ashbaugh, a parish youth evangelist at Holy Cross, Fort Recovery. “So, they’re going for all of these youth ministries, and it’s just beautiful to see. Showing them that they can be young and have fun—and be Catholic—is just really important.”
So, let us hope in the young Church, but also do our part to accompany them toward Jesus Christ, the Living Hope of every generation. ✣
Audrey Melton is the Associate Director for Youth Evangelization at the Center for the New Evangelization.
To Hold Hope in Her Arms
JACKIE SCOTT
Angel trembled with fear as she stood outside St. Vincent de Paul’s homeless shelter in Dayton. She wanted to turn around. She wished she had family members she could turn to who would help her. “I was scared to come to a place like this,” she said. “But now, I wish I would have come sooner.”
Angel is one of thousands of neighbors accompanied by St. Vincent de Paul at the shelter each year. The 24/7 haven provides shelter, food, clothing, and support for 200 men, women, and children each night. Staff and volunteers accompany these neighbors in need as they seek healing and housing.
There are countless reasons more than 10,000 Ohioans experience homelessness on any given night. In St. Vincent de Paul Society’s forty years of operating shelters in Montgomery County, one of the most common reasons guests report coming to the shelter is family conflict.
For many like Angel, that conflict began in childhood. She experienced abuse and neglect at the hands of close family members at a young age, and the childhood trauma left her struggling with anxiety and depression well into adulthood.
Despite her early struggles, she was one of the first in her family to graduate high school. However, lacking guidance and support to figure out what came next, she ended up in an abusive relationship that almost took her life.
Angel managed to escape and spent the next several years trying to get her life back together. She bounced around, couch surfing with friends and acquaintances, often finding herself in dangerous situations. “I was constantly restarting,” she explained. “There were times I got ahead, and I thought things were going good, and then circumstances changed, and things went bad.”
Then she became pregnant. All alone, except for the new life growing inside her, Angel wanted to give her baby a better start than she had and began seeking any and every
resource that could help. She managed to get on a waiting list for housing, but the waiting seemed to go on forever.
With her baby’s due date fast approaching, she knew she needed stability—and fast. That was when she made the difficult decision to go to St. Vincent de Paul’s shelter, where she was welcomed with dignity and compassion. “Once I got settled, I was relieved,” she said. “I knew we were safe, and I finally felt like I could let go of a lot of that trauma and fear.”
St. Vincent staff and volunteers gave her a kind of guidance and care she never had before. They ensured her basic needs were met and helped care for her after her child was born. “We were taken care of,” she said. “We ate, we were healthy, we were clean. They guided me to a lot of resources, which is the reason my baby has everything he needs. They care, they listen.”
Now, instead of pain and fear, she holds hope—in her arms and in her heart. She gazes at her baby boy sleeping sweetly in her arms. They are only days away from moving into their new apartment and starting a new life. “It has been a blessing,” she said of her time at St. Vincent de Paul. “I’m really thankful for my time here. I’ve got more hope for what’s coming.”
In accompanying neighbors like Angel, St. Vincent de Paul Society answers God’s call to love our neighbors. This work is only possible thanks to the generous support from caring donors, volunteers, and community partners. You can learn more about how to help neighbors like Angel by visiting stvincentdayton.org. ✣
Jackie Scott is the Assistant Director of Mission Advancement at the St. Vincent de Paul Society, Dayton District.
A Call to Spiritual Arms
NICOLE A. BEST, PSYD THE PRIESTHOOD & THE ROLE OF THE LAITY
(Note: The first installment of this 3-part series can be found in the November 2025 issue.)
Some heard it as a child. Others were well into adulthood amid a lucrative career and serious relationship. That still small voice. That restless heart. That sense of emptiness despite having everything they thought they ever wanted. “Not me, Lord! Please! I want to get married. I want to have children. I love my girlfriend.” The road to the priesthood is not for the faint-of-heart. It can take years of intense prayer and spiritual direction for a man to discern that God is indeed inviting him to apply to the seminary. By the time they reach this point, no illusions remain. They know what they are giving up: the house, the career, the income, the fiancée, their freedom.
“[But] whatever gains I had, these I have come to consider a loss because of Christ. More than that, I even consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things and I consider them so much rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him ... to know him and the power of his resurrection and [the] sharing of his sufferings by being conformed to his death” (Phil 3:7-10).
The seminary application process leaves little unrevealed: an autobiographical essay, letters of recommendation, a thorough psychological evaluation, a background check, an interview before a panel of seminary priests and professors. All is laid open. It matters not. They have found their Lord, and He is bidding them to come. They will lay down their lives for Him and His sheep. The gate opens. They enter. And it hits them: they too are one of the lambs and so is everyone else in the building ... and lambs can be annoying! The constant clanging of the bells around their necks, their incessant “Baa Baa,” their off-key singing, their poor table manners ... “Really, Lord?!?”
PA R T 2
“Really, my son. Only seven years to go.”
During this spiritual boot camp, seminarians will experience extensive human, intellectual, pastoral, and spiritual formation. They will study philosophy, theology, Latin, music, and business. They will engage in apostolic works; participate in physical labor by maintaining the seminary grounds; and take on part-time jobs, such as working in the seminary library or caring for ill classmates and priests. All of these activities are set within a strict schedule that places daily Mass, the Liturgy of the Hours, and other communal and personal prayer at its center. Regular spiritual direction and assessment by the formators help discern the seminarian’s progress in cultivating a life of obedience, celibacy, and simplicity. At their seminary training’s conclusion, candidates for the priesthood have earned a master’s degree in divinity (and, if they choose, in an additional area of specialization).
Upon ordination, most will be assigned to a parish as a parochial vicar until the (arch)bishop elevates him to the office of pastor.
They’ve survived the arduous training, but now the real campaign unfolds. The enemy has placed a target squarely on their backs and they know it. Spiritual missiles will be launched at them from within and without, but they refuse to be deterred.
Next time, we will explore some of the spiritual battles that these chosen men must engage in and how the laity play an integral role in supporting them. ✣
Dr. Nicole Best is a clinical psychologist and member of the Archdiocese’s Priest-Care Initiative, which provides ongoing education and support to our local priests.
A Loc AL PA s T o R
s h AR es h is s chedu L e
• Rise at 5:15am, shower, eat, pray for 45 minutes
• Prepare for and celebrate 7:30 a.m. Mass
• Pray for an hour afterward if time allows
• Liturgy of the Hours throughout the day
• Daily Rosary and Divine Mercy Chaplet
• Spiritual reading in the evening
Mond Ays
Write homilies in the morning; meetings from 3-7 p.m. or later
Tuesd Ays
Business-related work; meetings with parish staff, evangelization team, finance council, and parish council (ending at 8 p.m.)
Wednesd Ays
Parishioner appointments 2-7 p.m.; occasional meetings afterward
Thu R sd Ays
One-on-one meetings with direct reports most of the day; 5:30 p.m. confessions (which may last until 8 p.m.)
F R id Ays
Pseudo day off
sAT u R d Ays
Occasional morning meetings; prepare for afternoon Mass; bless holy water; prayer time; confessions; Mass
s und Ays
Two Masses with confessions in-between; periodic baptisms after the last Mass; write homilies
oT he R du T ies
Respond to emails and phone calls, emergency anointings for those who are ill or near death, funerals (possibly none for several weeks and then five to six within a few days), address matters pertaining to Beacons of Light and the Archdiocese, clean the rectory, cooking, grocery shopping, personal appointments, spiritual direction, check in with family
He’s Here
Hope Made Flesh
He’s Here: Hope Made Flesh
DIVINE SEEING
| Emma Cassani
In a visually saturated world, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed and become desensitized to beauty. Visio Divina, Latin for “divine seeing,” encourages us to slow down and engage in visual contemplation, using art as a profound tool for connecting with the Divine.
A Guide to Visio Divina
Begin by making the sign of the cross and inviting the Holy Spirit to guide your contemplation. Spend a moment meditating on the Adoration of the Shepherds (ca. 1613), painted by Juan Bautista Maíno. This work is located at The State Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia. His original painting, mentioned in the Background below, is part of a series and located at the Museo del Prado. Then read Luke 2:8-20.
Background
Little is known about the Spanish Baroque artist, Juan Bautista Maíno—the Museo del Prado even calls him “one of the most unknown masters of Spanish painting.” Only about forty of his works are known today, yet each reveals an artist of remarkable skill and faith.
Born in 1581 in Pastrana, Spain, Maíno was the son of a fabric merchant and a Portuguese noblewoman. The family grew up near the royal court, serving Ana de Mendoza, who was the Princess of Eboli and the Duchess of Pastrana. In his later years, Maíno became a drawing teacher to the future King Philip IV.
Around 1600, Maíno traveled to Italy to study the leading artistic styles and techniques of his time. There, he absorbed influences from both Caravaggio’s naturalism and the Bolognese classicism—two schools whose contrasts of light, emotion, and order later merged uniquely in his own work.
Returning to Spain around 1611, he settled in Toledo, where, in 1612, he received a major commission to paint an altarpiece for the Dominican monastery of San Pedro Mártir. The collection contained salvific scenes from Scripture—one being the Adoration of the Shepherds. Although the contract specified an eight-month timeline, the work extended far beyond that. In 1613, before the paintings were complete, Maíno entered the Dominican order—delaying the commission’s progress but profoundly deepening his spirituality and artistic vision.
Intriguingly, the version of the Adoration of the Shepherds now housed in the Hermitage Museum is not identical to the Toledo original. Though similar in composition, the Hermitage painting feels more intimate and luminous. Scholars believe it was created around 1613, perhaps as a replica for another patron or as a work of private devotion.
Enter In
On a cool night, within a dusty stable, the Son of God is born and laid in a feeding trough cushioned with hay. The sky breaks open with light as overjoyed angels musically pour out from the clouds. Joseph gazes quietly in awe at the miracle before him. Mary looks down at the Newborn, hands clasped, with a faint smile. Soon, others accompany them. Out in the fields, shepherds hear the news from an angel and hurry toward the stable, hearts pounding with curiosity at this strange and glorious surprise. When they
arrive, they see the message was true. One shepherd stands off to the side on the right, looking upon the manger. The other lies down on the ground, holding onto the sheep.
When looking at Maíno’s Adoration of the Shepherds, we notice that the visitors gathered around the manger are not all shepherds. In fact, only two shepherds appear among the other visitors who seem oddly out of place in the humble stable. These other four men are well-dressed, composed, and dignified. On the far left, two exchange glances just beyond the Christ Child; another kneels at the center in reverent adoration; and an elderly man on the far right meets the viewer’s gaze directly. These men don’t appear to be shepherds at all, but rather Maíno’s own reimagining of the Nativity. Drawing from Caravaggio’s naturalism, he portrays these visitors as contemporary Spanish noblemen. With their finely detailed features and elegant dress, they may represent specific patrons—or perhaps, simply models who posed for the artist.
Why would Maíno include such figures in a scene meant to honor the humble adoration of the shepherds? It was a deliberate decision. Like Caravaggio, Maíno uses contemporary dress or figures within a sacred moment to draw the viewer closer—to make the mystery of the Incarnation feel immediate and familiar. Yet, he seems to take it a step further, blending the real with the ideal. The nobleman on the far right meets our gaze directly, breaking the fourth wall and inviting us to enter the scene. He seems to be asking us: Where would you find yourself among them?
Maíno also painted what he knew. Raised around the royal court and later transformed by his vocation as a Dominican friar, he understood both worlds—the luxury of the nobility and the simplicity of religious life. Perhaps through this contrast, he reveals that humility transcends class, and that before Christ, all are invited to kneel and adore. Even the animals in the scene turn toward the manger, caught in quiet wonder and reverence. Truly, all are invited to delight in the Lord.
But amid these finely dressed visitors are the two shepherds who quietly anchor the scene. Their presence—rough, grounded, and almost overlooked—reminds us of who first received the good news. Bishop Barron cautions us not to romanticize the shepherds, explaining that they “were considered rather shady characters … unable to hold down
Continued on page 28.
a steady job, unreliable, and dishonest. So questionable was their reputation that their testimony was inadmissible in a court of law” (The Word on Fire Bible: The Gospels, 310). And yet, despite their untrustworthy reputation, it was to them that God sent an angel—proclaiming the good news and inviting them to witness His birth.
If we look closely, the shepherds do not appear overjoyed, which may feel unusual for an adoration scene. Their faces are mostly hidden, leaving us to read their emotions solely from posture and gesture. One leans on his staff toward the manger, making direct eye contact with Jesus. Though he stands further away than the kneeling nobleman, his response is no less sincere. He looks at Jesus in quiet awe. It is unclear what he is holding. It appears to be fur—perhaps a blanket for Mary or Jesus if the night grows cold.
The other shepherd lies across the foreground in front of the manger. His face is completely hidden; his bare feet are caked with dirt from his day’s work. At first glance, he does not appear joyful, but tired and worn. Notice how he reaches for the lambs—it’s as if he embraces them out of longing for comfort or a desire to protect. Beside him rests a basket of eggs and two lifeless birds—likely humble gifts for the Holy Family. The eggs, fragile yet full of life, speak
For further exploration
of new life found in the Incarnation. Yet in this simple still life, Maíno weaves together both the Nativity and the Passion—the beginning already shadowed by the Cross. The still birds echo the sacrifice to come, while the eggs whisper a promise of a resurrection. The shepherd’s weary embrace of the lambs feels like a quiet knowing, as if he senses what lies ahead for the Lamb of God. His posture speaks not of sorrow, but exhaustion turned to peace—the relief of one who has waited long for a promise fulfilled.
Reflection
When contemplating Maíno’s Adoration of the Shepherds, we see what happens when our hope is finally fulfilled— how God keeps His promises. We learn that joy is the fruit of fulfillment, yet that joy does not always look like the exuberant angels. Sometimes it takes a very human form. Fulfilled hope can appear still and grateful, like Mary, who seems to whisper through exhaustion and relief, “He’s here.” It can look like the shepherd standing quietly in awe, or like the shepherd lying down, resting in Jesus’ presence.
Advent is a time of waiting and longing, but also a time of remembering that God keeps His promises. Maíno’s painting invites us to rest in that fulfilled hope—the quiet peace of Christ made present among us. ✣
“Adoration of the Shepherds.” Museodelprado.es, Museo Nacional del Prado, 2025. Barron, Robert, et al. The Word on Fire Bible: The Gospels. Park Ridge, Il, Word On Fire, 2020. Eisler, Colin. Paintings in the Hermitage. Harry N. Abrams, October 1, 1995. “Maíno, Fray Juan Bautista.” Museodelprado.es, Museo Nacional del Prado, 2025.
Because of your generosity, the joyful voices of St. Rita shine with hope and promise—seen, heard, and celebrated every day. This Christmas, may the joy of the Christ Child fill your heart with the same light you bring to our students and their future.
My gift this Christmas season to the children of St. Rita School for the Deaf is:
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Redeemed by Grace
When Kathy Bendall reflects on her life, she does so with a sense of gratitude, peace, and earnestness in her speech. Her story is not defined by her mistakes; rather, it is evidence that by grace her heart was reshaped into new purposes. Bendall highlights the mercy of God and the surrounding support of her parish community, understanding that she found the true measure of redemption and the hope and fulfillment that follows it.
Bendall’s turning point came in 2017 while serving time in prison. After years of addiction and pain, she reached a moment of utter despair. In that
KARY ELLEN BERGER
be,” Bendall said. “There was a peace that surpassed all understanding right there in that room.”
In the months that followed, she developed a deep relationship with God and learned to see her life through the lens of mercy and purpose.
“I was given knowledge, wisdom, and understanding,” Bendall said. “It became clear to me that God had a purpose for my life.”
Upon her release in 2019, that purpose began to unfold in extraordinary ways. With a renewed spirit, Bendall faced the challenge of starting over, expecting her past to limit her future. But God had a
What I thought was going to kill me didn’t—because God was there in that prison with me.
darkness, she cried out to God for help, and He answered.
“What I thought was going to kill me didn’t—because God was there in that prison with me,” Bendall said. “He gave me strength, opened my eyes, and softened my heart to receive His love.”
Through the prison’s RCIA program, Bendall began rebuilding her faith from the ground up. There, she met Sr. Faustina Maria and volunteer Marty Arlinghaus, who became instruments of God’s grace in her life.
“When Sr. Faustina’s eyes met mine, I knew that’s exactly where I needed to
plan. Out of the blue, Seacrest Recovery Center in Columbus called her, offering her a therapist position.
“The interviewer told me my story was going to change people’s lives,” Bendall said. “He told me to go home, apply for my license, and he was going to give me a job.”
Months later, Bendall’s social work license was miraculously reinstated. “If that was not God Himself, I don’t know who it was,” Bendall said. “He restored what I thought was gone forever.”
Today, Bendall serves as the Clinical Director for Seacrest Recovery Centers
in Cincinnati and Columbus and is the proud owner of her own treatment facility, Divine Intervention Recovery Center. Her life’s work now focuses on helping others recover from addiction, trauma, and mental illness, offering the same hope that once saved her.
“My joy comes from the Lord,” Bendall said. “But He’s placed me in a position to help other people heal. When my story helps someone else to be successful—that’s true fulfillment.”
Her faith also brought healing within her family. Bendall’s husband converted to Catholicism, their marriage was convalidated, and their son was baptized and confirmed.
“This experience has united my family in the Church,” Bendall said. “We laugh, we love, and we overcome through Jesus when life throws a curve ball.”
Through her journey, Bendall illustrates that redemption is not merely a matter of second chances, but of uncovering the purpose and peace that could only come from God’s everlasting love.
“Against all odds, God has used me as a prime example of what He can do,” Bendall said. “Don’t give up. Keep your eyes on Jesus. The storms may come, but I am living proof that with God all things are possible.” ✣
“Anchored in Hope, Persevering in Love” SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 7
Pilgrims of Hope
DAVID COOLEY
The 2025 Jubilee Year “Pilgrims of Hope” has prompted record-breaking numbers of faithful Catholics from all over the world to flock to the Eternal City. Add to those numbers 42 people from the Archdiocese of Cincinnati who were led there recently by Archbishop-Emeritus Dennis M. Schnurr. The 11-day Holy Year pilgrimage to Italy began October 22 and included visits to Assisi, Florence, Siena, Orvieto, and of course, Rome.
Archbishop Schnurr is very familiar with Rome, having travelled there countless times, but he said he always finds something new to experience and more to see and learn.
“That is what a pilgrimage is all about,” he said, “to continue to learn and grow in the Faith so that we appreciate the gifts that the Lord has given us in the Church.”
A jubilee year is rooted in the Old Testament tradition of a holy year set aside, dedicated to grace, forgiveness, and spiritual renewal. In ancient times, a “year of jubilee” meant that debts were to be forgiven and the oppressed set free. The Catholic Church calls a Jubilee every 25 years for the faithful to experience a time focused on repentance, reconciliation, and works of mercy.
Archbishop Schnurr said the idea is to change the way we
live for the better, and all of this is meant to go well beyond one year.
“I think the holy year wants to instill in each one of us the realization that we live in a fast-paced and, quite honestly, noisy world,” he said. “We don’t take time to converse with our Lord and find time for silence. We must allow ourselves time to listen to our Lord, who can be very hard to hear when we are surrounded by noise and the fast pace.”
Archbishop Schnurr said that one of the highlights of the pilgrimage for him was seeing the “depth of faith” in the other pilgrims.
“When I see people of such deep faith, it is reason to hope for our archdiocese and for the entire Church,” he said.
Steve and Rose Bird have been on six pilgrimages with the Archdiocese of Cincinnati, beginning in 2010 when Archbishop Schnurr received his pallium from Pope Benedict XVI.
Rose said the pilgrimages enable her and her husband to get away from the world and grow closer to the Lord.
“We want to increase in holiness, and we are seeking an indulgence in this Jubilee Year,” she said.
The Jubilee Year officially began December 24, 2024, and will officially end on the Feast of the Epiphany, January 6, 2026. Archbishop Robert Casey will celebrate a closing Mass for the Jubilee Year on Sunday, December 28, 10:00 a.m., at the Cathedral Basilica of St. Peter in Chains.
Rose said she also hopes and prays “for the conversion of some of my family members to the faith—some have fallen away.”
Both Rose and Steve received great hope from their fellow pilgrims.
“Sometimes you feel like you are alone, especially when not surrounded by people of faith,” said Rose, “but every … pilgrimage, the whole world is joining you, and it’s really beautiful to experience that.”
“The people we [meet] become friends,” said Steve. “All these shared experiences forge friendships … and to be on these trips with faith-filled Catholic people really touches your heart. That’s why we keep coming back.”
This was Joe and Christelle Middendorf’s first pilgrimage, prompted by a serious health scare in 2023.
“I had a stroke, and it got us thinking about how short life is and that you must do things when you can,” Joe said. “The Year of Hope pilgrimage was perfect timing—Jubilee years don’t come up very often, so it was a no-brainer for us to go.”
Because of his stroke, Joe believes he has a unique perspective.
“I don’t think we are seeking hope as much as we are recognizing hope,” he said. “Hope is all around us. Hope is everlasting. It is something we are experiencing.”
“We are celebrating a lot of things,” said Christelle, “one of them is our 40th wedding anniversary. We originally planned a Marian pilgrimage because of Joe’s devotion to the Blessed Mother. But, when we heard about everything … with the Jubilee Year, we felt like this is what we needed to do.”
The pilgrims from Cincinnati were privileged to attend an audience with Pope Leo XIV, and Archbishop Schnurr personally greeted the Holy Father.
“There were probably 50 or 60 other bishops there, so my message to the Holy Father had to be very short,” said Archbishop Schnurr. “I said to him, ‘The people of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati send their greetings and their prayers.’ Pope Leo said, ‘Thank you. Assure the people of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati that I return their prayers.’” ✣
A Path of Courage
LAURA CURRAN FINDING HOPE THROUGH ADOPTION
As Tamara (pseudonym) drove to her abortion appointment, the radio played an ad for Pregnancy Center Plus (PCPlus). Her eyes welled with tears. In that moment, she changed course and drove directly to PCPlus. She was 12weeks pregnant, her boyfriend had recently died in a car crash, and she was overwhelmed by the thought of raising a child alone. Was adoption an option? She was relieved to learn that PCPlus had an on-site adoption agency that could see her immediately.
Redefining Adoption
Tamara’s story is not unique. While laws and common practices around adoption have changed, misinformation and outdated language perpetuate a stigma. We strive at PCPlus to transform the understanding of adoption into what it truly is: a loving alternative women consider and choose with pride and courage rather than secrecy and shame. For over five years we have worked to make adoption education and counseling a core part of our comprehensive services.
We present adoption positively through various mediums, including educational materials, videos created by birth mothers, and the opportunity for women to connect face to face with other women who made adoption plans.
Using Empowering Language
At Pregnancy Center Plus, we know
that using the right words is crucial for expressing the proper respect due to all parties involved—birth parents, adoptive parents, and the child. Some outdated terms have demeaning connotations, so we carefully choose positive language when discussing adoption with a pregnant woman (and her partner).
A woman who chooses adoption is putting tremendous thought, heart, and care into her child’s long-term future. She’s not “giving up” her baby; she’s providing for her child through a difficult but courageous decision. It’s an incredibly selfless act.
Quick Guide to Empowering Adoption Language:
• Say, “Make an adoption plan” instead of “Give away your baby.”
• Say, “Place your child for adoption” instead of “Put up for adoption.”
• Say, “Choose to parent” instead of “Keep the baby.”
• Say, “Birth mother/father” instead of “Real mother/father.”
• Say, “Parent” instead of “Adoptive parent.”
• Say, “Was adopted” instead of “Is adopted.” (The adoption was a past event, not a state of being; just as we say someone “was born” instead of “is born.”)
• Say, “Unexpected or unplanned” instead of “Unwanted.”
On-Site Support for a Difficult Decision
Adoption professionals, located inside PCPlus, offer a pressure-free space for women (and their partners) to explore adoption. As Tamara discovered, our licensed social workers and legal professionals provide guidance throughout the entire process, including post-adoption peer support.
Tamara was reassured to learn:
• This was not foster care. Her baby would go home from the hospital with the adoptive family she chose.
• She was in control. She could choose the adoptive family from multiple, pre-screened, approved, and prepared couples.
• She could decide the level of contact with the adoptive family after the adoption.
• There would be no costs to her In fact, she could receive help with living expenses.
• She would not need to go to court
Tamara left with hope, several profile books of potential adoptive families, and a new life-affirming plan for her baby and herself. It was a decision they could both live with. ✣
Laura Curran is the Executive Director of Pregnancy Center Plus. PCPlus is a 501(c)3 charitable organization. All services are free and confidential.
SupportPCPlus.org AdoptionProfessionals.net
St. Lucy
Lucy’s Story
A brave woman who lived in Syracuse, Sicily, Lucy died during the persecution of Christians in the early fourth century (300s). A popular belief is that Lucy promised to live as a consecrated virgin in service to Christ and the poor, but her mother arranged a marriage to a pagan. When Lucy insisted that Jesus was her only partner for life, the man was angry and turned her in to the authorities for being a Christian.
More Than Legend
Although details of her life remain unknown, it is true that Christians were persecuted for their faith during her lifetime. They were forced to endure horrific torture and often met painful ends during Emperor Diocletian’s reign. Her death remains a mystery, but this story passed down has inspired many Christians through to today.
December Tradition
Traditionally on St. Lucy’s feast day (Dec. 13), a family’s oldest daughter wears a white gown or dress, red sash, and green wreath crown (often with candles). The white gown signifies purity, the red sash represents martyrdom, and the wreath means “eternal”—God’s love is never-ending. “Lucia” (Lucy in English) means “light,” and the candles bring forth light. Once dressed, the daughter
brings sweet rolls or donuts to her family. St. Lucy is the patron saint of people with blindness or eye disorders.
Prayer
St. Lucy, you did not hide your light under a basket, but let it shine for the whole world, for all the centuries to see. We may not suffer torture in our lives the way you did, but we are still called to let the light of our Christianity illumine our daily lives. Please help us to have the courage to bring our Christianity into our work, our play, our relationships, and our conversations—to every corner of our day. Amen.
Consecrated Eyes Inspire Light Lucy Martyr Persecution Purity Service Sicily
The Great Analogy
CHRISTIAN ANTHROPOLOGY | Andrew J. Sodergren, M.T.S., Psy.D.
Note: This article is part of an ongoing series on Pope St. John Paul II’s “Theology of the Body.”
In his analysis of Ephesians 5:21-33, Pope St. John Paul II highlighted St. Paul’s use of analogy. This passage of Ephesians compares the relationship of Christian spouses with the relationship between Christ and the Church. To understand these comparisons rightly, we must understand the theological principle of analogy
According to St. Anselm’s ancient definition, theology “is faith seeking understanding.” It is man’s attempt to use human reason to understand God and the things pertaining to Him. In theology, we use human language to describe divine realities, often employing images and experiences drawn from earthly life. The question arises, “Can our earthly notions adequately describe divine realities?”
In 1215, the Fourth Lateran Council provided a “yes and no” answer. The council fathers affirmed that it is appropriate to make analogies between earthly concepts and divine realities because there is a real similarity between God and His creatures. However, there is always a greater dissimilarity—being infinite, eternal, and perfect in every way, God is always far greater and more different from human beings and earthly life than He is similar. Similarly, in his Modern Catholic Dictionary, Fr. John Hardon succinctly defined analogy as “similarity without identity, or any imperfect likeness between two or more beings or things that are compared” (p. 23). Thus, the Church affirms the principle of analogy by which we can compare human experiences with divine realities to grow in understanding, as long as we remember that there is a greater difference than likeness between the two.
Returning to Ephesians 5:21-33, when St. Paul compares the relationship of spouses with that of Christ and the Church, he is making use of analogy. He is saying that there are genuine similarities between these relationships upon which we would do well to meditate. However, we
must remember that there are also vast differences. For example, Christ created the Church and sustains her in being whereas Christian spouses clearly do not create each other or hold each other in existence. Nonetheless, St. Paul saw it fitting to compare analogically Christian marriage with the relationship of Christ and the Church. In his analysis, Pope St. John Paul II argued that this analogy works in both directions. In other words, comparing marriage with Christ and the Church, can help us develop a deeper understanding of both. He taught that the relationship between husband and wife “should be understood by Christians according to the image of the relationship between Christ and the Church” (TOB 89.8). He went on to explain that “spousal love” is a central feature of Christ’s relationship with the Church (90.1). “The spousal relationship that unites … husband and wife, must … help us to understand the love that unites Christ with the Church” (90.2).
In other words, St. Paul’s analogy between human marriage and Christ’s relationship with the Church enlightens our understanding of both. Looking at the relationship between Christ and the Church through the lens of spousal love helps deepen our understanding of God’s love for humanity and the proper response of Christians (i.e., members of the Church) to His love. In addition, meditating on the reciprocal love of Christ and the Church can enlighten our understanding of the vocation of marriage. Indeed, Pope St. John Paul II, taught that “the essential truth about marriage” is that it “corresponds to the vocation of Christians only when it mirrors the love that Christ, the Bridegroom, gives to the Church, his Bride, and which the Church … seeks to give back to Christ in return” (90.2). Thus, Christian spouses are called to model their love for each other on the love that moved Christ to give up His life for the Church through a total gift of self, as well as that same love by which the Church labors to grow continuously in honor, fidelity, and fruitfulness for Christ. Let us continue to explore this great analogy of spousal love. ✣
Catholic Crossword
THE FINAL WORD | with Fr. Anthony Marcelli
Our Home, Our Hope
There’s always a blend of sadness and excitement when I leave Cincinnati to return to my studies in Rome. It’s tough to leave home: family, parishioners, Skyline Chili, and the Midwest’s iconic seasons, especially the snowfalls (Rome only sees snow once every 10 years); but it is exciting and a tremendous blessing to be a student priest in the very heart of the Church. This past Jubilee Year brought newfound excitement with the opening of the Holy Doors, election of Pope Leo XIV, canonizations of Pier Giorgio Frassati and Carlo Acutis, declaration of John Henry Newman as a Doctor of the Church, and much more!
We’ve experienced huge, very huge, numbers here in Rome: more than 2,000 American pilgrims come every week to our residence to pick up a Wednesday audience ticket to see the pope. When they arrive, it’s a great opportunity for conversation (in English, thank the Lord), hospitality, tips for navigating the city, and most importantly, the Sacrament of Confession—a full-service pit stop! After hearing a few hours of confessions for pilgrims one day, I had to ask myself, what really brings all these people here? There is a fiery excitement in their eyes and hearts, there is some reason for hope. That reason, I believe, is something more than the Sistine Chapel, Pietà, carbonara, and perhaps even more than Pope Leo or the tomb of St. Peter. But what is it?
When Pope Francis opened the Jubilee Year with Spes Non Confundit (Hope Does Not Disappoint), he invited us to “reflect on the reasons for our hope” (1 Pt 3:15). What is our hope? The hope of the Christian is not anything in this world, for we are not at home here, “The world is thy ship, not thy home” wrote St. Thérèse, the Little Flower.
Our hope is not a naïve optimism about “our times” but founded on an eternal fact: our eternal destination. It is our eternal home that is our hope. Founded on baptism and carried along in our faith life, we are aboard the Church who catches the winds and cuts the waves with the successor of St. Peter (the pope) at the helm, the Blessed Virgin Mary as our guiding star, and Jesus, our Lord, drawing us to Himself. Pope Leo said that “[Jesus] is also the destination of our journey,” for it is Jesus himself who is “our hope” (1 Tm 1:1); He is our hope and home who draws us to the white shores, the rolling hills, and the far green country. It is eternal life with Jesus that is our destination, and it is our Church that guides us safely to Him. I am moved to think that Pope Francis had this in mind in initiating the jubilee, not realizing he would be full sail to his eternal home before the close of the year.
The Jubilee Year will conclude with the closing of the Holy Door at St. Peter’s Basilica on January 6, 2026, the Solemnity of the Epiphany; but like the Magi, this does not mean the end of our journey to Jesus. All of us are on a daily journey home: Jesus draws us to Himself in our life of prayer and in the sacraments, especially in the confessional and the Tabernacle—Carlo Acutis used to say that we go on pilgrimage every time we make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament—and He draws us in our love for our fellow travelers. This world is not our home, but aboard the Church we can sail confidently together to Him who is our hope of glory. ✣
Fr. Anthony Marcelli, ordained a priest for the Archdiocese of Cincinnati in 2021, is currently assigned to graduate studies at the Pontifical North American College in Rome.
