Category Archives: Default

Patience: Key to a Lasting Marriage

“God, give me patience—right now!”

Most of us have probably said some version of that prayer. Perhaps we’re waiting for a wife to finish dressing when we’re already 20 minutes late. Or we find—again—a husband’s dirty socks and underwear on the floor instead of in the laundry basket.

When long-married couples are asked the recipe for marital success, many identify patience as a key ingredient. It’s the indispensable virtue for living together day after day in relative peace, without constant struggles to change the other to our liking.

Patience in marriage begins with the individual. Our daily routine gives us ample opportunity to practice patience: waiting at the drive-through window, teaching our child a soccer skill, or learning a new computer application. As we grow in patience outside the home, we bring the virtue into the home. Patience with co-workers and store clerks translates into patience with my spouse and children. Sometimes, the answer to the question “What have I done for my marriage today?” is “When I got caught in the traffic jam I used it as a chance to pray and think rather than fume.”

St. Francis de Sales reminds us that we must be patient with everyone, but especially with ourselves. Our faults and failings may tempt us to reproach ourselves harshly and give in to frustration, even despair. Instead, says St. Francis, we need to pick up and move on, trusting that God will help us to do better next time. If we learn to treat ourselves gently, we will be more likely to extend that same charity and understanding to our spouse.

Within marriage, patience means discerning what needs to be changed and what needs to be tolerated. On our wedding day we probably considered our spouse practically perfect—then we immediately set out to improve him or her. Of course, we quickly found out that he or she didn’t necessarily want to be improved. In fact, they probably had ideas for our own improvement!

Some behaviors and personal characteristics resist change. My husband always takes a long time to get ready, whether for work or a social engagement. I am directionally challenged, so I need repeated instructions about how to get from Point A to Point B. These traits are annoying, but neither of us is likely to change. We need to be patient with each other and learn to work around them.

Other behaviors need to be challenged for the good of the marriage. Patience can help to make the challenge effective. One evening, as Mary was paying the bills she found out that Tom had again charged too much to their credit cards. His reckless spending threatened their financial stability. Mary’s first impulse was to storm into the family room and confront Tom. Instead, she gave herself a couple days to calm down. She developed a strategy to hold both of them financially accountable. When she finally approached Tom, she chose a Saturday morning when they were well-rested and could hear what each other was saying.

Some behaviors, such as domestic violence, should never be tolerated. Abuse victims sometimes believe that if they are patient, the abuse will eventually end. Rather, abuse tends to escalate over time and only stops with outside intervention.

In addition to being patient with each other, couples need to be patient with the marriage itself. Healthy marriages grow and change. Social scientists point out that a couple can go through seven or more stages of marriage throughout a lifetime. Some stages hold excitement and promise: a child arrives or the couple moves into their dream home.

Inevitably, however, couples go through periods of disillusionment and boredom. They may find their spouse unappealing and wonder how they can ever spend the rest of their life with this person. Sometimes a couple may even consider divorce.

These stages, although difficult, are normal. With patience, a couple can work through them and emerge into the next stage with a deepened appreciation of each other and the marriage.

Like marriage itself, patience is the work of a lifetime. Each day brings a small opportunity to cultivate the virtue and to grow one’s marriage.

Read more Virtue of the Month reflections.

How Much Does it Cost to Marry in the Church?

How much does it cost to get married in the Catholic Church?

Actually, nothing. Sacraments are not for sale. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (#2121) makes clear that the First Commandment forbids simony, which is the buying or selling of sacred things.

It’s appropriate, however, for the bride and groom to share their joy and, in generosity, to contribute to the support of the Church and its ministers. The donations and stipends associated with a wedding fall into three categories:

1. Donation to the church. Traditionally, the couple makes a donation to the church in which they are married. Sometimes an amount—or a range—is suggested, but often it’s left to the discretion of the couple. If the bride or groom or both are registered parishioners, the suggested amount may be minimal, or none. The assumption is that they are already supporting the parish with their regular financial contributions.

Some couples marry in a historic chapel or church. Keep in mind that wedding donations can be an important source of support for older buildings.

Couples should ask about the suggested donation if it is not specified in the written marriage policy. A helpful rule of thumb is to consider the donation in relation to the total amount spent on the wedding. In no case, however, should financial circumstances prevent a couple from approaching the Church for marriage.

2. Music ministers and others. In addition to an organist, weddings may feature instrumentalists, a cantor and other singers. Musicians’ fees are often explained in the parish’s marriage policy, or they can be discussed when the couple meets with the music director.

If the celebration includes a Mass, altar servers should be given a small offering.

3. Celebrant’s stipend. The services of the priest or deacon are free, but it is customary to offer a stipend. Usually, no specific amount is suggested. Couples may want to consider not only the time devoted to the rehearsal and wedding, but also the effort put into the marriage preparation process.

A final note

Donations and stipends should be placed in clearly marked envelopes and given to the intended recipient. Celebrants are not usually expected to distribute the stipends.

Some parishes require that certain fees be paid in advance, for example, a deposit to confirm the date, or the musician’s fee. Any remaining donations and stipends should be taken care of prior to the wedding day.

The Seedbed of My Vocation: One Sister’s Story

The formation of every human person begins in a family, whatever its condition may be–healthy, religious, irreligious, broken, or divorced. Held in the tender loving care of our God, the family prepares, according to its state and condition, every child to know, love and serve God. Every family provides children with the place for natural maturation – physically, psychologically, spiritually – to receive and respond to a call from God to a vocation to the priesthood or consecrated life.

Allow me to share with you ways that my family became the “seedbed” for my vocation as a religious sister:

Marital love becomes familial and filial love. The love my father and mother had for each other, and for God, told me volumes about God’s love. It is faith in God that brought my parents through marital difficulties, deaths in the family, and other trials and joys of life. Through prayer, their relationship with God nourished qualities of healthy, holy relationships: courage in speaking the truth in love, patience in weaknesses, forgiveness after hurtful words and pardon sought. Our familial relationship with God was nourished (communally and individually) through the sacraments. The family is where I learned the love of God “made flesh” in our family, and this love nourished my own love for God and the love I have for the sisters in my religious community. In fact, as a religious sister, my love for God is expressed as being like that of spousal love, eventually sealed in my consecration to Him as a religious sister and profession of the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience.

Family Prayer. Hindsight is 20/20! Although I did not always understand the importance of prayer in our family, I sensed it. Kneeling after supper around the dinner table to pray the Rosary during Lent, going to the Stations of the Cross and the Sacrament of Penance, and Sunday Mass – despite my young “groans” at the discipline to do so – opened my heart to my own personal relationship with the Lord. As a young adult in college, I realized the importance of prayer and began to take responsibility for my own relationship with God through prayer.

A Sacred Meal. Eating our meals together as a family taught me the importance of being together, sharing the day’s blessings and challenges. I remember the struggle we shared when the telephone began ringing more frequently during supper. It interrupted our conversation and often seemed necessary to answer. We realized that many phone calls were not necessary to answer immediately. Valuing our time together, we decided to turn off the ringer during supper. I grew in respect for my parents’ wisdom and their vigilance over our family time together. Today, my religious community’s highest value is the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and we, too, must be vigilant in protecting it from interruption. The Mass is the “source and summit” of our life together and in service to others.

Respect for elders. Every Sunday after Mass, our family would visit my widowed paternal grandmother. Visiting her taught me the value of respect for authority, and this became the ground out of which I learned love for the Superiors of our religious community. I understood more readily from this example of benevolence towards the sick and dying the representation of God’s love that authority ideally holds. Knowing the responsibility they bear, I was more quick to pray for them. When persons in authority have no regard, respect or love for God, their authority becomes exercising power for the sake of controlling others to achieve their own ends. True authority is service for others.

Love of neighbor. The compassion that our family showed to the poor, sick, and suffering in our community taught me how to love my neighbor with generosity and tenderness. Children seem to have an innate ability to give, and help those in need. When nurtured, this desire becomes a fruitful form of self-gift to God. The joy of helping those in need is recalled at moments when the self-gift requires a deeper sacrifice. This is critical to understand and develop to maturity for any vocation. In fact, even after we have responded to a particular vocation of marriage, priesthood or consecrated life, maturation in self-donation to God, and others for the sake of the Kingdom, continues! Daily, in my work and prayer, God gives me opportunities to deepen my love for Him and for my neighbor.

These are just a few simple ways I recognize how my parents and family contributed to my religious vocation, and I could not be more grateful for their patience and love. May the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, guide all families and parents to respond to God’s will with generous and willing hearts for love of Him!

USCCB resources

What Holiday Stress Means for Couples

With the arrival of Christmastime, great expectations reawaken in homes everywhere; gradually, an atmosphere of anticipation takes over.

Parents lay plans to make the season a uniquely happy one for their children – a tall order! Grandparents start longing to spend time with their family’s newest generation during the holidays, even if that will be accomplished only via Skype. And the doors of many households are opened as wide as possible to welcome friends and neighbors, a sign that this time of year is different.

Oh, and one other thing: Wives and husbands hope Christmastime will be special for them too, as a couple. But will it be?

Often enough, overloaded as it is with everyone else’s high expectations and the competing demands of family, friends and workplace associates, Christmastime is stressful for couples. Some wives and husbands feel that at best, they can muddle along until January.

Causes of Stress
But sometimes – many times — patience with each other runs thin for a wife and husband during the holidays. For a variety of reasons, stress gains the upper hand between them.

  • One spouse may be convinced that Christmas is unaffordable. He or she feels stressed-out by the cost of Christmas gifts and entertainment.
  • Another spouse may experience the stress of workplace demands that do not always subside to make room for a family’s overcrowded schedule of holiday festivities at school and church, with family and friends, or for shopping.
  • Some couples are stressed-out by the mere logistics of Christmas and the challenge of finding ways to celebrate with two sets of grandparents and two extended families.
  • Couples who make faith a priority cringe when the season’s real purpose gets left in the shadows, eclipsed by so much else that is happening.
  • There are, in addition, certain realities of life that do not manage to make themselves scarce just because Christmastime is here. Children get sick and require care; an overdue notice of an unpaid bill can still arrive in the mail; the furnace can stop working; the weather can get real bad.

Stress grows for couples when they feel pushed and pulled in two or three seemingly impossible directions at once. Stress grows as spouses become more and more fatigued from trying to meet others’ needs and expectations, and from the usually unfounded fear of somehow letting their family down at Christmas.

It is an unfortunate reality of life that the stress they feel often turns a wife and husband away from each other. At a time when they need each other, they may instead criticize each other, which experts agree will be unhelpful.

When you are under stress, “it can sometimes be tempting to take out your frustration verbally on those who are closest to you,” said ACCORD, the Irish Catholic bishops’ marriage care service. In a December 2009 message, ACCORD cautioned spouses that this could mean their frustration gets taken out on “the very person who can be [their] greatest ally and source of support.”

A similar point is made by the 2010 edition of “Fighting for Your Marriage,” the widely read and consulted book by Howard Markman, Scott Stanley and Susan Blumberg. They note that when stress prevails, there is a tendency for spouses to “become more negative with each other.” These authors say to couples:

“When stressed-out, most people give others less benefit of the doubt and are quicker to react to frustrations with their partners. … Just when you need to be more supportive of each other, stress can lead you to turn against each other.”

How to Handle Stress
Advice for couples about dealing with stress was offered by John Gottman in his famed book “The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work.” Gottman is a U.S. researcher who has greatly influenced the direction of contemporary marriage studies.

Gottman advised spouses not to offer advice too quickly when one of them is suffering from stress. “The cardinal rule when helping your partner de-stress is that understanding must precede advice. You have to let your partner know that you fully understand and empathize with the dilemma before you suggest a solution,” he said.

And Gottman proposed that when one spouse feels stressed-out, the other should take that spouse’s side. “This means being supportive, even if you think his or her perspective is unreasonable,” Gottman wrote. He added that expressions of affection also are needed during these times.

The way I see it, couples under stress are at risk of meeting everyone’s needs but their own at Christmastime. I am sure some couples only hope that after the holidays, they will find a bit more time for each other.

It is no secret that many stressed-out couples worry about Christmas. They feel overwhelmed and inadequate in the face of the season’s great expectations, wondering how its promise of happiness will play-out in their home.

My wife and I are the parents of three and the grandparents of seven. I mention that only by way of saying that I know what holiday stress is all about. At the last moment, it is so easy to conclude that if only one or two more things were purchased or planned, Christmas would be a more perfect time for all.

At our house, we’ve stumbled along toward Christmas over and over again, wondering if we actually would survive until the big day or if anything about it would be memorable.

Christmas can be a happy time, for sure. But a perfect Christmas, I’ve concluded, is elusive – and probably impossible. And I think it has helped to learn that.

I can attest, though, that the memories of Christmases past are marvelous, which, I suppose, is why we’ll stumble along toward the great day again next year.

Till Death Do Us Part

The following is an excerpt from the book It Is Well: Life in the Storm by Chris Faddis, shared with permission from the author and Carmel Communications. In his book, Chris writes about finding out on Easter Sunday 2011 that his wife Angela had terminal colon cancer. She died 17 months later at age 32, leaving behind her grieving husband and two young children. It Is Well is a story of grief, love, loss, and faith.

To purchase It Is Well, please visit http://itiswellbook.com.

I sat with Angela as much as I could, holding her hand, playing music and praying many prayers, yet I would find myself feeling very restless and anxious. There is no more helpless feeling than sitting by a loved one’s side waiting for them to die. I felt as
 if I should be doing something. To move away from the instincts
 of trying to help her live, of doing everything I could to fight
 this disease, towards suddenly giving up was painful and heart wrenching. I had discerned our decision to move Angela home with hospice care with the help of very knowledgeable friends who walked me through the process of making this decision. It was clear that Angela’s body was in the pre-active dying process, and that there really was nothing we could do to stop it. One friend posed the decision this way: “At some point it is time to surrender to God and if she is in the pre-active dying process, it might be that time to accept death.”

I was confident that we had made the right choice, but as 
I sat in her room, I felt helpless and useless. I would rethink my decisions and question myself. “Am I giving up too soon?” This wasn’t helped, of course, by a few well-meaning people who voiced that they thought I was giving up hope. So in my restlessness and uneasiness I would pace, find things to do and find myself getting frustrated. As I would come back into the room, I would look at Angela’s peaceful face, and I would realize that my only job was to just be present to her and to wait patiently with her for death. When I finally surrendered to this reality, that my only job was to just be present to her, I felt an incredible peace.

hands

Chris Faddis holding his wife Angela’s hand

One particular afternoon, just a few days before she died, I sat with Angela and held her hand as I read to her. She would occasionally look up and listen or smile. I would tell her how much I loved and cherished her and she would respond with a faint response. At one point she whispered, “I always knew you would cherish me to the end.” As she fell back to sleep, I looked down at our hands and her ring was missing. It had fallen off several times, as Angela was so frail that it was now too large for her finger. She had placed it on the table next to her bed. I picked up the ring
and placed it on her finger and held her hand again. I gazed upon our hands, reflecting on that ring and what it symbolized, on our hands and the symbolism of husband and wife walking hand in hand through life. I thought about the first time we held hands. It was on our first date to Cirque du Soleil. At one point Angela had moved her hand near mine and then gently touched my hand. I took her hand till the crowd erupted in applause and a standing ovation. Angela never admitted to holding my hand that night. She would say, “I did not hold your hand that night. I wasn’t ready.” 
I would laugh and remind her of the many things she did during that time of friendship – when she supposedly did not want to date yet – like lean on me, touch my hand, and even press her cheek against mine for a long time, as if to wait for a kiss. She would laugh at me and say, “Whatever, I was not that forward.” I then thought about when we did finally hold hands after we were “officially” dating. There is something remarkable about holding hands when you are falling in love.

Many people say it’s in the kiss that you know, or it’s love at first sight; I tend to think it’s in the hands. Holding hands was not always romantic, but holding hands was our constant connection to one another. Even when in an argument or a difficult conversation, we would often hold hands. When Angela was struggling with depression, I held her hands many times just to calm her, to soothe her, to help her feel supported. Angela, too, would hold my hand when I was having a hard day or down about my
job situation or our financial hurdles. A simple touch of her hand would instantly soothe me.

Through Angela’s cancer journey, holding hands had become our primary form of intimacy. Whether Angela was receiving chemotherapy, waiting for surgery or simply resting at home, we would spend lots of time holding hands, talking, praying and simply being present. As I held her hand during this seventeen-month journey, I would often squeeze and hold her hand very tight as I thought about losing her, as if I could somehow hold her tight enough to keep her from dying. Now sitting in our room as she lie in wait for death, holding her hand was literally all I had left. She could hardly speak or even acknowledge my words; I simply had to hold her hand to communicate my love and to be sure she knew she was not alone. Indeed, I would be there till the end.

As I thought about her hands, I also thought about that ring, the one I gave her as I asked her to be my bride and the ring that stood as a symbol of this life-long Sacrament of Marriage. With that ring came our promise to love one another fully and completely until death came for one of us. The wedding ring speaks of permanence, of commitment, of an unbreakable bond between a husband and wife. Yet that ring could not bind her any longer; it could not keep her from dying, and it certainly could not keep her from heaven.

As I sat in this moment, I wanted to capture our hands one last time. I took a picture that I later shared. It is the image of us holding hands with Angela’s ring as the focal point of the image.
 A week or so earlier I had verbally told Angela that she was free to go home. My words on that day were, “You took my hand and you have loved me well. When Jesus comes and offers you his hand, you are free to go.” After taking the picture of our hands I felt I should say those words again. So I wrote them down and then read them to Angela:

“Till Death”

As if I could keep you longer, I placed this ring back on your finger today. It had fallen off a few times.

Oh, that this ring could keep you here longer. It is a mark of our commitment; it is my promise to love you with my whole heart, and yet there is a love greater than mine that will take you soon. How could this mere piece of gold compare to the love of God, which loves you completely, wholly, and perfectly?

It cannot, so I will hold your hand a little while longer. I will keep putting this ring back on your finger. But when the time comes and He asks you for your hand, you are free to go. Go to that perfect love which makes all things new. Go and be whole again. For now, till death do we part.

This Is My Body

Did you know that marriage is the one sacrament that priests do not administer?

When I married Stacey 15 years ago, the priest led the ceremony and gave us cues as to what to say, but his role, in essence, was to witness—more properly, “to receive”—our vows to love each other till death. He stood as witness with the whole community of faith to hear us say those words to each other, and in the name of the Church he received and blessed what we had done.

This means that the true ministers of the sacrament of marriage are the spouses. I minister the sacrament of marriage to Stacey, and she ministers it to me. Not only did we minister the sacrament of marriage to one another on our wedding day, but we also ministered the sacrament of marriage to one another on the day after the wedding. And the day after that.

In fact, every action and behavior of our married life together is an expression of the sacrament of marriage. When I fill a hot-water bottle to heat the bed for Stacey on a cold night, I am ministering the sacrament of marriage to her. In another 40 years of married life, God-willing, when Stacey parses the week’s medications into daily segments for me, she will be ministering the sacrament of marriage to me.

When we are talking to couples preparing for marriage, this sounds like a beautiful vision and ideal. And it does transform the way we see the life we share together. On the inside, however—in the day-to-day, boots-on-the-ground reality of family life—love takes shape in messy, demanding, frustrating ways. It often feels like death by 1,000 cuts, and that is because love is sacrifice—it means giving yourself away for the good of another.

Sometimes I envy the martyrs who could give their lives to love in one final decision. Marriage presents me with 349 decisions to sacrifice myself every single day. It makes me wonder why anyone would choose this life. It seems like a small miracle that people go on marrying and raising children at all.

Certainly our culture does not value self-denial. Our economy is built upon consumption, and advertising and media barrage us with the idea that autonomy and status are paths to happiness. Love in marriage and family life is an emptying and a binding, and it stands in stark contrast to what we see on TV.

For someone looking for freedom, emptying and binding sounds like the last thing they could want. Yet, paradoxically, generations of faithful people have given themselves away in marriage and family life and found exactly that—freedom.

Freedom is a slippery word, especially in America. True freedom is the freedom to grow in goodness, to become the people we were created to be. And because we are created in the image of God, who is love, we are most truly ourselves, happy, and free when we love.

That is to say, we experience true freedom when we discover that we are becoming holy because we are offering love to our spouses and children. Our culture twists that notion to try to fool us into thinking that freedom is about the open road with a new Chevy Silverado, but that is just silly.

The good news is that we participate in the mystery of God when we love, and this brings us new life. Marriage and family life is a way for us to give our lives over to love 349 ways every day, and it gives us glimpses of heaven every single day, too. To see our children love one another, for example, is just a miracle. There is no way that on my own I can account for the magnitude of that kind of goodness.

Now I’m not saying that every moment in our household is accompanied by a chorus of alleluias. The bulk of our experience is filled with the mundane: getting kids to school, working, making dinner, doing dishes, cleaning the house, shopping for groceries, and so on. But I don’t know of any life that isn’t full of the mundane.

God wants to be discovered within our human experience, not in some abstract ideal. Stacey and I have certainly discovered the truth that marriage is a school for love—that we are working out our salvation with one another, helping each other get to heaven.

This is the kernel of truth behind what we discerned when we decided to get married—we knew that we were at our best together. I knew that a life with Stacey would make me a better person than I could become on my own. A decade and a half later, I’m utterly convinced of this fact—Stacey calls me to growth and encourages me to continue striving for perfection. I’ll never reach that perfection in this world, but sharing a life with her gives me a concrete way to pursue holiness.

As humans, we are tied to sense and corporeality—if we can’t see, smell, taste, touch, or hear something, it is difficult for us to grasp it. Marriage and family life allow us to experience love with our senses. Yesterday, for example, love smelled like toothpaste, steaming vegetables, strawberry-scented shampoo, and popcorn.

Though sex is a part of the physicality of love in marriage, it is a very small part. Mostly, we communicate and care for each other’s bodies—we wash children’s bodies, we feed each other’s bodies with shared meals, we transport bodies to and from school and work and activities, we nurse sick bodies back to health and help tired bodies rest. It was the same with Jesus—he made his body an instrument of love. He still does.

In fact, the Eucharist is the best way for us as spouses and parents to connect our 349 acts of love each day with the one act of love that God has given the world in his Son. We can say with the priest, who repeats these words from Jesus himself: “This is my body, given up for you.”

Married Saint: Bl. Ceferino Gimenez Malla

Born: August 26, 1861
Died: August 9, 1936 (aged 74)
Feast Day: May 4
Patronage: Romani and Sinti peoples

Born in Spain to a Catholic Romani (Gypsy) family, Ceferino Gimenez Malla (also known as “El Pele,” “the Strong One” or “the Brave One”) lived much of his early life as a nomad. As such, little is know about his upbringing.

At 18 he married Teresa Castro (also a Romani) in a traditional Roma ceremony. Their union was later validated by the Catholic Church in 1912. They were married for forty years until her death in 1922.  Though they had no children themselves, Ceferino and Teresa adopted her orphaned niece Pepita in 1912.

Ceferino and Teresa eventually settled in Barbastro where he worked as a horse trader. Known for his honesty and industriousness, he became a successful businessman and helped make peace among the Kalòs (Spanish nomads) and resolve their disputes with others. His natural goodness and virtue led him deeper into his relationship with Christ.

Although illiterate, Ceferino became a catechist, teaching the children about Christ through storytelling and exhorting them to pray daily. He became a daily communicant and was known for his special affection for the rosary. He became a member of the Franciscan Third Order, the Saint Vincent de Paul Society, and participated in night adoration.

In 1936, during the Spanish Civil War, Ceferino was arrested for defending a Catholic priest who had been arrested. Imprisoned at a local monastery and advised to give up his rosary in order to save his life, Ceferino fervently continued his prayers. On the day of his execution, As the firing squad prepared to kill him, Ceferino held his rosary and cried out, “Long live Christ the King!” He was executed for his faith along with other priests, brothers, and lay persons and buried in a mass grave.

Ceferino Gimenez Malla was beatified on May 4, 1997. In his homily for the beatification Mass, Pope St. John Paul II said

Ceferino Giménez Malla, known as “El Pelé” died for the faith in which he had lived. His life shows how Christ is present in the various peoples and races, and that all are called to holiness which is attained by keeping his commandments and remaining in his love (cf. Jn 15:11). El Pelé was generous and welcoming to the poor, despite his own poverty; honest in his activities, faithful to his people and his Gypsy race, endowed with an extraordinary natural intelligence and the gift of counsel. He was above all a man of deep religious beliefs.

Blessed Ceferino Gimenez Malla, pray for us.

On Relics and Romance

When my wife and I got married, we had the privilege of making a pilgrimage to Rome as our honeymoon trip. While in Rome, we saw a number of churches, but one in particular stood out to me: Chiesa del Gesu (The Church of Jesus; pictured right). In this beautiful old baroque church there is a unique relic: the forearm of St. Francis Xavier, the great Jesuit missionary. While visiting an altar with a body part on display may not seem too romantic for a date, let alone a honeymoon, it actually became one of the most romantic places of our honeymoon! Why? Because I realized before that altar that relics are an important cipher for understanding the vocation I embarked upon in marriage.

I admit that at the time of my visit I was “weirded out” by the presence of St. Francis Xavier’s forearm, and I was certainly not thinking at first about romance. But then as usual, God challenged my limited thoughts. As I prayed before the altar in Chiesa Gesu, I thought: “Why does the Church have altars with the body parts of the Saints? Is this some pagan ritual? Does this distract us or help us in loving Christ, to whom alone our worship is directed?” As I thought about it, I realized that this practice of venerating relics of a saint’s body is uniquely Christian, and that it does honor Christ. The key to understanding this ancient practice is to recognize that the Church honors the body – and by extension the body parts of the saints and certain items they touched – because of the Church’s belief in the Resurrection of the Body made possible by Jesus Christ’s own Resurrection. We honor the body parts of the Saints because one day their entire body will be glorified in the Resurrection of the Body. Their bodies are holy because they will give praise to God in Heaven. Thus, as I knelt before that altar in Rome, I came to understand that this practice of venerating bodily relics of the Saints is a witness to our belief in the Resurrection of Body, and that it chiefly points to Christ’s Resurrection, not away from Him.

Given this rootedness in the Resurrection, the altar enshrining St. Francis Xavier’s forearm reminded me of the purpose of my spouse’s human body – to be an everlasting temple of God. It is this recognition that helps guide marital romance: our bodies are temples of God by virtue of our baptism, and we are called to praise God in our bodies through virtue and the Sacraments (see Rom 12:1). Marital romance is called to be “romance within the Resurrection.” It is a romance that goes beyond simply asking whether or not a particular action violates a commandment given by God, like adultery or lust. It also asks every day whether or not this physical or verbal action treats my spouse’s body with the respect due to a “temple of God,” which it is in this life and the next. Therefore, far from drawing me away from Christ or the love of my spouse, the relic of St. Francis Xavier instead brought us closer by provoking the following questions: “Do I approach my spouse within the vision of God’s plan for our bodies, or do I disregard that plan because of laziness, selfishness, or ignorance? And am I treating my spouse with prayerful reverence as I would a bodily relic of a Saint?” Thus, while others were enjoying the beach on their honeymoon – which for the record we did later too – we were also blessed with romance in the most unlikely of all places, in front of a saint’s body part.

Want to strengthen your marital romance and vocation with your spouse? Then try praying before a relic of a saint! (Oftentimes a shrine to a particular saint will have a relic from that saint.) Before the relic, ask God to illumine both of your minds about the true nature of your bodies and how to treat your spouse’s body according to this divine destiny. Then keep learning about God’s divine plan for your marriage and recall this holy relic on many occasions to foster this awareness of our bodies’ destiny. Remember that we will always be learning about God’s plan for our marriage until the day we die, but let us with joy seek out this romance within the Resurrection, a romance that can even be found – nay especially found – before St. Francis Xavier’s forearm.

About the author
Daniel Meola is a PhD candidate at the Pontifical John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and the Family in Washington, DC. He and his wife Bethany were married in May 2011.

Avoiding Wedding Photography Mishaps

A video on YouTube is making the rounds on photography websites and blogs. I decided to join the discussion here because it relates to photography in a religious setting.

In the video, a minister is leading an outdoor wedding ceremony. As he speaks, one can hear the sound of a camera shutter firing away. The minister abruptly turns his attention to the wedding photographer and videographer standing behind him. He tells them, “Please, sirs, leave. This is a solemn assembly. Not a photography session. Please move.”

The expressions on the bride and groom’s faces are of sheer horror, probably thinking about that huge check they wrote to have their special day recorded and photographed.

As the camera is removed from its tripod and the video loses its focus, the minister is heard ending his sermon to the photographers: “This is not about photography. This is about God.”

What a terrible ending to what should have been a magnificent, memorable day.

Who is to blame for this incident and how could it have been avoided? First, both the photographers and the minister share the blame.

As a Catholic press photographer, I have covered religious ceremonies and witnessed other photographers who seemed to operate with complete disregard for the sacred environment in which they were working. They see no difference between shooting a prayer service or a sporting event. Whether it is the attire worn inside a church (T-shirts, jeans, and tennis shoes or sandals) or the way he or she distracts the congregation by moving around at inappropriate times, unprofessional photographers can give their colleagues a bad reputation.

At the same time, some church officials (whether it’s a priest, sacristan or master of ceremony) need to understand the importance of capturing the moment for posterity. While covering the ordination of several priests at Milwaukee’s St. John the Evangelist Cathedral several years ago, I received an unpleasant look from the master of ceremonies. Apparently another photographer got on his bad side and he restricted my movement at the liturgy.

I’ve photographed weddings at churches and know that each priest or minister has his or her own opinions about wedding photographers. A photographer’s first task is to meet with the minister, ideally at the wedding rehearsal, and discuss limitations or concerns for taking photos. Priests are usually fine with photographers moving around the church to get the right shot, but some don’t allow flash photography. The use of a motor-driven camera, which sounds like a muffled machine gun, can also be a distraction and should be avoided in churches.

Catholic weddings, especially ceremonies that take place within the celebration of Mass, are indeed sacred, sacramental events. But this should not prohibit capturing the event on camera.

The outcome captured in this video should never have happened. The photographers and the minister could have prevented it if some preplanning had taken place. The obvious losers were the bride and groom.

About the author
Sam Lucero is news and information director for The Compass and a 30-year veteran of the Catholic press.

Re-posted with permission from The Compass, the official newspaper for the Catholic Diocese of Green Bay, Wisconsin. Original link here.

Loving Parents After Miscarriage

A friend who recently lost a child through miscarriage called to express disappointment that she didn’t know where to turn for the resources and support she and her husband so desperately needed. This heartbreaking conversation reminded me of another friend who miscarried a child at six months of pregnancy, but who masked her pain with a smile instead of reaching out for comfort. Though each experienced the deep pain of losing a child, neither received the loving support she deserved.

Sadly, their experiences are common. Though most miscarriages occur very early in pregnancy, often before the woman knows she is pregnant, as many as 15% of known pregnancies end in miscarriage. Our culture and even some church communities don’t always recognize this loss, leaving women or couples to deal with their pain alone.

Our witness to life must address the pain and grieving experienced by those who have lost a child. Just as we recognize the humanity of the unborn child lost to abortion, we must acknowledge equally the unborn child lost to miscarriage. “I see clearly that the thing the church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds and to warm the hearts of the faithful; it needs nearness, proximity,” Pope Francis said recently. As Catholics and people of life, we are called to draw close to these parents and provide care and comfort to their aching hearts.

So what can we do to help parents grieve their loss and witness to the gift of their child’s life? We can acknowledge their loss, support them as they grieve, and direct them to helpful resources. How do we do this?

First, don’t dismiss their loss with comments like “You’re young; you’ll conceive again soon,” or “You still have your other children.” Instead, make time to listen as they share their pain. Affirm their right to grieve. Offer your condolences and prayers, and ask if there is anything they need. Direct the parents to their parish priest, who can help them organize a memorial service, funeral or burial. The Order of Christian Funerals has prayers for a stillborn child, and the Book of Blessings includes a blessing for parents that can be administered by a priest or deacon after a miscarriage. Some blessings can even be adapted for use by a layperson.

Keep in mind that the father and mother may have different emotional needs. She might feel the loss more directly, or wonder if somehow she caused the miscarriage. She might prefer to talk things out with a friend. The father may need space to eventually feel comfortable sharing how the loss affects him, and may even need time to take his mind off things. He might need guidance on how to support the mother. Losing a child can drive parents apart, so the couple might need the reassuring love of a faithful community to keep close and stay together. Child loss or bereavement support groups at their parish or local hospital can provide support, as well as spiritual advice or counseling.

As members of the body of Christ, the Church, we are called to bear witness to the loss of every life, no matter how brief or small. Let us pray that our growing sensitivity to the loss of a child through miscarriage will better assist grieving parents and help them to entrust their child to God’s unfailing care and mercy.

About the author
Mary McClusky is Assistant Director for Project Rachel Ministry Development at the Secretariat of Pro-Life Activities, U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. To learn more about the bishops’ pro-life activities, go to www.usccb.org/prolife.

Re-posted with permission from the USCCB Life Issues Forum.