Every year during Advent I want to Continue reading
Over the July 4 weekend, and with the exception of the Washington Post, the national newspapers of record (e.g., The New York Times, New York Daily News, Los Angeles Times, etc.) all ran editorials weekend opining that far from being a force for good, America is the world’s greatest agent of imperialism, of hatred, of prejudice, of violence, and that it would be better if she had never existed.
None of these outlets ran pro-America pieces.
I’m doing an article on a local young adult group. In researching my article, I came upon an article reviewing a book I possess but which I haven’t finished. Hoping I could get some useful facts from the book via this review, I read it. It’s from Commonweal, a well-known liberal Catholic organ.
The article’s author starts off saying nothing with which I wouldn’t agree (more or less, as you’ll see):
Only 7 percent of these young adults who might have turned out Catholic can be called “practicing” Catholics—if “practicing” is tightly defined as attending Mass weekly, saying that faith is extremely or very important, and praying at least a few times a week. [Uhm, how else would we define it, sir? To “practice” something, you have to be its practitioner. I can’t call myself a practicing golfer when I get out and hit a bucket of balls once every three years … at best.] About 27 percent are at the other end of the spectrum, classified as “disengaged,” meaning that they never attend Mass and feel religion is unimportant. In between these two poles is a complex landscape of the marginally attached—perhaps willing to identify themselves as Catholic, attending Mass sporadically at best, and in general living life with their Catholic identity as a more dormant, if not entirely irrelevant, force.
Perhaps the most depressing chapter is one where we hear not numbers like these, but the actual words of some of these younger should-be Catholics, a small sample of whom the authors interviewed in 2008. Most were “out,” considering themselves estranged from the church or no longer Catholic, and only twelve met an expansive definition of “active.” For everyone, active and not, “church” seems associated primarily with morals [If Jesus didn’t care about “morals,” by which I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume he means sexual morals (in my experience, it’s a safe bet), then why did He talk in the Gospels about sex outside of marriage (i.e., “fornication”) as being something that pollutes us and as something that keeps us out of heaven? (cf. Matthew 15:19; Mark 7:21; Revelation 21:8, 22:15) If we look at someone with lust in our heart, we commit adultery. If we are aggressively angry with someone, we’re guilty of their murder. Same if we call them “fool/raka,” which also makes us “liable to hellfire.” Jesus does nothing but talk about morals.] and obligatory Mass attendance rather than anything that sounds like Jesus and the Gospel. [It’s “obligatory” because, well, there’s that pesky, darn Third Commandment, doncha know — “Thou shalt keep the Sabbath day holy” — which requires Mass attendance (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, nos. 2168-2183). And didn’t Jesus say in at least one Gospel if not more than one that we have to keep the Commandments?] More disturbingly, their vague priorities of “being a better person” don’t seem likely to generate much of a desire for deeper answers to life’s questions, at least in the short run. [Pardon me for the question, sir, but isn’t that the whole bent of post-Conciliar catechesis, that Jesus loves us as we are, that we just have to try to be a better people, that concern over the deeper meanings to life’s questions is really just the purview of those “obsessed” with dogmas and doctrines? Just sayin’.] “It’s just easier not to follow a religion, is what it comes down to,” says a typical young adult—and even though I feel that way some of the time myself, it’s hard not to agree with the authors’ sense that this is a generation largely lost to what we oldsters think of as Catholic identity.
But then the piece’s author shows himself to be a typical smug liberal (don’t take it from me; take it from The New York Times‘ own liberal commentator Nicholas Kristof). The author writes of those “naïvely assuming that our crisis of membership and allegiance is primarily a failure of ardor in education and explanation.” [Smug, smug, smug, smug, smug.]
It seems to be an appealing idea to some that our bishops could have prevented the collapse of Catholic culture in the 1960s if only they had preached doctrine and Catholic obligations more heroically. [No. Really, it’s if they — and their priests and those priests’ catechists — had done so with any real conviction at all and not given us The Green Bay Catechism- and The Dutch Catechism-inspired garbage. For my First Communion, I heard nothing of Transubstantiation. I did, however, make some really nice felt banners.] However, from my years in business, I can tell you there are few sadder phenomena than a company that thinks its failed product could surely have been successful if only customers could have had its greatness fully explained to them.”
If a tree falls in a forest
Again, this assumes that people have had it explained to them at all.
Take for instance Mozart’s Requiem. I think it is the most perfect piece of music ever composed (and I’m a post-Beatles era 40-something).
I would never expect anyone to agree with me if:
a) no one had heard this piece exists;
b) had never had it described to; and
c) had never heard it and been shown it in all its beauty and grandeur, much less “fully explained to them.”
Let’s talk about sex, bay-bee
Take sexual issues, much less other doctrines (Transubstantiation, the Virgin birth, Mary’s perpetual virginity, etc.).
I’ve had confessors wink-wink/nudge-nudge at me in the confessional when I confessed such peccadilloes in my own young adult years.
I remember once, I confessed two sins, one sexual and the other of anger. The confessor got purple with me of the sin of anger. Picture being royally castigated by someone whose voice sounded like Droopy Dog with an Irish lilt to his voice.
“OK, Father, duly noted, but what about the other one?”
“Oh, yes, well, don’t worry about that too much. Try to do better, if you think you must.”
In confirmation and as a teenager, no one explained Humanae Vitae (click here for a summary; here for the short encyclical itself), much less the Theology of the Body, much less the glory of the Church’s other teachings in this realm. I didn’t even know HV existed until I was in my late 20s. When I discovered it, I thought, ‘Why was this hidden from me? It would have answered a lot of questions.’
Nike ain’t the only one sayin’ it, kna’m’sayin’, G?
So when the rest of the culture is telling you, “Just do it, especially if it feels good” (and what feels “gooder” than sex?), and most people — even Catholics loyal to the Magisterium — can muster nothing better than, “Well, the Church says it’s sinful … but we can’t really tell you why,” to expect a different result from today’s young adult is idiotic.
The problem with the publisher/author of this piece and the rest of the Commonweal crowd is this: Far from promoting a better understanding of the Church’s teachings and letting people accept or reject them on their merit without need of the typical liberal colorization, they feed into the culture’s rejection of these teachings.
They actually encourage dissent from them. They effectively say, “We have deemed the Church stupid and wrong in these areas. Therefore our young must think this way, as well, and we will do whatever is in our power to ensure they do.”
Then when the young do what the Commonweal crowd wants and rejects these doctrines — without ever knowing just what they’re rejecting in the first place — the Crowd points its long, accusing finger and says to the Church hierarchy, “See?! We told you this would happen! It’s because of these stupid ‘dogmas’ upon which you insist that they’re leaving. You must jettison them if you have any hope of getting them back.”
Or as the author puts it, stop making so many “doctrinal and moral pronouncements.” That, he averts, is the best place to start.
There be the door
There is a perfect Communion for people like the author and his sympathetic readers who believe this: Anglicanism. Or the Old Catholic Church. Or the so-called American Catholic Church.
Really, why union with Rome? You’ve already rejected so much of what is in the Catechism in your heart (even if you haven’t had the courage of your convictions to say so publicly). So why not just swim the Tiber in the direction away from the Vatican and find a home where you’re content and just leave the rest of us who do agree whole hog with the Church’s teachings in peace? You’d be happier. We’d be happier. Let’s all just be happier.
Otherwise stop being such obvious tools of the devil (I don’t say this lightly but from careful observation of history). For if you want to know why these young adults have left the Church, do your fair share of looking in the mirror. Realize that the finger you’re pointing is often pointing right back at you. (I realize this advice applies to me, as well, but I’m not the one in full-throated dissent.)
From the time I was a wee lad, my dear ol’ pappy drilled several lessons into me, one of which was, “If you’re going to do something, do it right.” Another was, “Don’t do something half-baked,” although he used a different word than “baked.”
Maybe this explains why I’ve always been a stickler for the rules, and why it’s always bugged me when people do things sloppily or don’t follow them.
Do it right or go home
So for instance, in my fraternity, when it came time to initiate new brothers, I couldn’t stand that some guys would wear a coat, tie … and sneakers. ‘This is important,’ I thought. ‘Dress accordingly. Show respect for the awesome ceremony in which you’re about to participate and are about to give witness. Don’t dress like some slob who doesn’t care. And if you truly don’t care, scram.’
Or when there was a portion of the fraternity’s “liturgy” that was supposed to be recited from memory … and the brother reciting that part read from the ritual book. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have time to learn his lines. He was just lazy.
For me it’s the same thing when a priest doesn’t “say the black” and “do the red” in the Mass.
Hey, Father: We don’t need your improvisations. No matter how creative and wonderfully “pastoral” you are, nothing you can conjure is going to be as good as what the Church has given us. Plus the Second Vatican Council and the Popes since then have said no one has a right to change a single jot or tittle of the rubrics on their own. Ergo knock it off, will ya?
This disregard for rules and protocols, we see it everywhere today, don’t we? Maybe we even do it ourselves (yes, I’ve three fingers pointing at me; crossing at crosswalks is super difficult, after all).
Hard to miss that one
One big place we see it in the Church is with those who are on their way to possible beatification, the Servants of Gods and Venerables.
“Oh, come on,” some will think. “Don’t we have more important things to worry about?”
Of course. That doesn’t mean this isn’t important, however. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have any concern over this. If it’s true that “in the Mass everything matters” (as one seminary professor I know of teaches his students), shouldn’t we also be careful and diligent in the other things pertaining to God and what He’s given us through His Church?
For the Church tells us to do things and how to do them for a reason. We don’t get to – or shouldn’t – decide on our own where the Church is wrong. That will lead – and always has led – to some really bad things happening.
Saint So-and-So … pray for us!
What am I talking about, already? Simple: Prayers to the saints. Or in this instance, prayers to saints in the making.
If we’re praying to a canonized saint, we can pray directly to them. If we’re praying to a beato or beata (i.e., someone who’s been beatified), we can pray directly to them.
Why? Because despite the differences in titles, both saints and blesseds (aka, beati) are in heaven. We have the Church’s infallible assurance of this.
The same cannot be said of Servants of God and Venerables. They may be in heaven. They may be in purgatory. In some rare – hopefully exceedingly rare – instances, they may even be in hell. See the Catechism of the Catholic Church nos. 1033 and 1035 for the reason why.
Absent a miracle or a declaration by the Pope of a person’s or persons’ martyrdom—which are the ordinary ways we ask God to reveal someone is with Him in the Beatific Vision—we have no way of knowing the disposition of their soul.
For Jesus’ injunction to “Judge not lest ye be judged yourself” speaks not to judging someone’s actions (we have to judge the rightness or wrongness of actions – stealing, murder, alcoholism, addiction, sexual crimes, sins of all types, etc. – or else we’d have chaos). Rather it warns against judging the eternal disposition of someone’s soul. He is the Judge. We are not.
That works both negatively and positively.
So we’re not to say someone is roasting in eternal fires, no matter how wicked, sinful, and evil they were while alive. You will notice the Church does not claim to know whether one single soul is in hell, even Judas or Hitler or Osama bin Laden or Mao or anyone.
Similarly we’re not to claim someone is in heaven without definitive proof. The Church will and often has made that determination, but only after thorough investigation and examination and God has revealed this.
Until we have that certainty, we are not to pray directly for that person’s intercession.
The proof is in the prayers
Don’t believe me? OK, don’t take it from me. Take it from the beatification causes of two “saints-in-waiting,” let’s call them.
First let’s look at one of my favorites, the Servant of God Fr. Walter Ciszek, SJ, who spent years incarcerated by the Soviets, first in solitary confinement in the terrible Lubyanka Prison and then in Siberian labor camps.
Here is a prayer asking for his intercession:
Almighty God, we love, adore, and praise You as our Creator and Loving Father. Look with compassion and mercy upon us. Hear our prayer in this time of special need and through the intercession of Father Walter Ciszek, grant the following favor if it is Your Holy Will.
(Mention the Request)
Most loving God, accept our gratitude for hearing this prayer. May the knowledge of the virtues and holiness of Father Walter be recognized and known to provide a lasting example to draw sinners to reconciliation and to lead souls to sanctity.
For You are our God, and we are Your people, and we glorify You, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and ever and forever. Amen.
What doesn’t happen in this prayer to the Servant of God? Nowhere do we say, “Fr. Ciszek, pray for us.” Instead the prayer is addressed to “Almighty God.”
Now let’s look at a prayer from the cause of Ven. Pio Bruno Lanteri, founder of the Oblates of the Virgin Mary, who also is up for beatification.
O Father, fountain of all life and holiness, You gave Fr. Bruno Lanteri great faith in Christ, Your Son, a lively hope, and an active love for the salvation of his brethren. You made him a prophet of Your Word and a witness to Your Mercy. He had a tender love for Mary, and by his very life he taught fidelity to the Church. Father, hear the prayer of Your family, and through the intercession of Fr. Lanteri, grant us the grace for which we now ask…. May he be glorified on earth that we may give You greater praise.
We ask this through Your Son, Jesus Christ, Our Lord. Amen.
“But wait! But wait! The website promoting the cause of my favorite Venerable says, ‘Ven. So-and-So, pray for us’! What about that, eh?”
“But wait! But wait! Father always asks for the prayers of the Servant of God directly. Father would never do anything wrong or against the Church.”
It’s true. Various causes do this. That doesn’t mean they’re supposed to.
And Father may be unassailable in his orthodoxy and fidelity to the Magisterium.
That doesn’t mean in both instances ignorance isn’t involved. Very likely, it is.
In life, if we do something, we should do it right. Shouldn’t that especially be true when it comes to venerating the saints, especially if the person in question isn’t yet a saint?
Some people will pooh-pooh what I’ve written. But ask yourself: What do you have to lose being obedient to the Church? What do you have to gain by ignoring her?
You don’t need a saint’s intercession to discern the answer.
Today is known as Holy Wednesday. That name is obvious enough because it is, after all, Wednesday in Holy Week.
But its traditional name is Spy Wednesday. Why “Spy”?
It would be neat if history gave us some super-mysto reason behind it, but it hasn’t. And the reason it hasn’t is that the name comes from a very simple fact. This is the day on which Judas – sneaky guy that he was – became a spy for the Sanhedrin and agreed to betray His Lord and Savior for 30 pieces of silver. You can read about it in Matthew 26:12-14, Mark 14:10-12, and Luke 22:3-6. (Fat good that money did him.)
The Old Testament prophecy of Judas’ actions is in Zachariah 11:9-12.
I like one writer’s commentary on this: “As believers in the power of God’s love and goodness, Spy Wednesday should provide a period for reflection and introspective prayer. We need to examine our lives and look for the moments that we have falsely shared intimacy with our brothers and sisters in faith. More precisely, contemplate of lack of true, ‘communio’ in our lives. With Judas’ false interrogatory response to Jesus, he reveals his true self [“Surely it is not I, Rabbi”]: Betrayer. Jesus sees right through Judas’ false piety and friendship. Jesus sees right through our own appearances when we falsely present ourselves as holy and faithful followers. Our frail human spirit reflects in our sinful acts and lack of faith.
“Jesus recognizes this and offers new hope to Judas and us. The ‘morsel’ which Jesus offers to Judas is an offering of friendship and love. Some biblical scholars have even indicated that the ‘morsel’ is symbolic of Jesus’ eucharistic manifestation. Judas does not partake of the meal with Jesus, but he was invited just the same. There is a sense that Jesus recognizes Judas’ confrontation with the powers of evil. Jesus does not admonish him or chastise him. [Rather He] permits Judas to engage in this struggle and reveal the implications of his actions and unfaithfulness. There is hope for conversion. There is hope for grace. There is hope in Jesus’ acceptance of the Father’s plan. There is hope for Easter glory.”
Another writer adds an interesting note: “Today and during the Sacred Triduum, the Matins and Lauds of the Divine Office are often sung in a haunting service known as the Tenebrae service (‘tenebrae’ meaning ‘shadows’), which is basically a funeral service for Jesus.”
Whatever you call it, be it Spy Wednesday, Holy Wednesday, Great Wednesday, have a blessed day and a grace-filled Holy Week.
Oh, and don’t be like Judas. It won’t end well for you.
If any of you have followed the sad, sad history of Pakistan and how Christians are treated there, you’ll likely know the name Shahbaz Bhatti.
He is a former government official who, among other things, sought to defend Asia Bibi against trumped up blasphemy charges.
He stood up for Christians and other religious minorities and their rights. He worked to change his nation for the better. And on March 2, 2011 …
He was assassinated for his efforts in a drive-by shooting.
Now the bishops of Pakistan are moving forward in their efforts to have Bhatti declared a martyr. You can read about it here. And you can read an article I did several years ago on the situation facing Christians in Pakistan here.
Certainly it was his faith that prompted him to do the work he did, he proudly proclaimed his faith, and it was hatred of the faith that got him killed. Hence it would seem he fits the criteria. But the Vatican has to make that call.
Let’s keep this effort in our prayers. Let us also keep all Pakistani Christians in our prayers. As I write this, a Pakistani Christian human rights lawyer has had to flee the country or risk a fate such as Bhatti’s simply because he stood up for his people. He has to wait to bring his family here, he is without a way of supporting himself, and his refugee status is being adjudicated, meaning he could get sent back. This is what life is like for these people. Please. Keep them in prayer.
I recently wrote an article for National Catholic Register on the challenges cloistered religious orders faced in terms of attracting vocations. (You can read it here.) For it, I interviewed several recent entrants of various convents about why they chose this very different yet traditional path for their vocation.
The first I spoke with was an African American young lady named Sr. Angela Helm, 24, who is a Discalced Carmelite at the order’s monastery in Port Tobacco, MD, and originally from Washington, DC
When I asked her why a cloistered life and not that of an active religious life (e.g., as part of an order that teaches, works with the poor, does nursing, etc.), she told me, “I find it really hard to focus on more than one thing at once, so it would be hard for me to live in the world and live for God. So I wanted to be somewhere where they choose living for God specifically.”
Through her research she says, “I became interested in Carmelite spirituality. I Googled Carmelite monasteries near me. There was one in Baltimore, but the one in Port Tobacco looked more like what I was looking for, so I drove over and checked it out. I became a postulant last August. I’m scheduled to receive the habit on February 22, 2016.”
I asked her what she did before becoming a religious. She says, “I was working my way through school and working a few part-time jobs at the same time.”
How did she come to realize she wasn’t supposed to finish school but that God was calling her to the religious life? She replied, “At times I kinda felt called to it. It was a struggle for me, but once I made the decision, it was a huge relief. It pushed me back into my faith and made it strong. I asked God, ‘What’s next?’ at Mass, and I then had an image of me kneeling in a Carmelite habit. By the end of Mass, I knew. It made me chuckle because after Mass was over, a seminarian announced it was vocations awareness week in the archdiocese.”
Sr. Aisling, 39, came all the way from Dublin, Ireland, to enter the Dominican Monastery of Our Lady of the Rosary in Summit, NJ.
So how did a nice Irish girl like you find your way to New Jersey, I asked her. She said, “I’d known about the monastery for a decade because of the blog. Of course, I tried to find something closer to me, but nothing was working out in Ireland. About three years ago, they invited me to make a visit, and I just fell in love with the place.
“I’ve always been attracted to the idea of cloistered life,” said Sister, “but I did look at active ministries for quite a long time. I was a nurse for 20 years and the idea that I wouldn’t necessarily use those skills again … But the idea of cloistered life kept coming back to me, and after doing more investigating, I discerned much more of a call, that I was much more drawn to that type of life.”
Asked what other things the Sisters had done to make themselves known to her, she replied, “They published a few books I’ve read over the years. The website’s very attractive, and when I contacted the novice mistress, they responded right away and were very friendly. And when I went to visit, I really did fall in love with the place.”
Sr. Jacinta, 20, originally from Montana, chose the Benedictines of Mary in Gower, MO.
She told me, “What attracted me about cloistered life was the true joy that radiated from the community. [When I went to visit], using my eyes of the world, I couldn’t perceive why the Sisters were so happy, and their joy attracted me. When I looked at them, I thought, ‘They shouldn’t be happy, and they shouldn’t want to be here,’ but you could tell they didn’t want to be anywhere else. They had what the world didn’t: Jesus. I had never considered myself ‘religious growing up, but the contemplatives attracted me because they were out of the world, and it felt like a strong fortress of faith and goodness.”
I asked what other factors contributed to her vocation. Sr. Jacinta said, “I was so blessed to grow up in a strong close knit family, and when I was discerning and visited, I found that same atmosphere of love.”
Another thing, she said, was “the silence. It was so utterly beautiful and so different than anything I had experienced. I could finally hear my soul, and it was crying for this sort of experience.”
Being a religious was not her first choice. “I had originally planned to be a nurse in the world,” she said, “when God asked me to do something else for Him. Once I discerned I had a vocation, I was hoping for an active order of nurses, but there weren’t any that attracted me. I started looking into the religious life and the differences amongst the various types of callings, and I learned what contemplatives were. When I started talking to my spiritual director and looking at websites, I could not get it out of my head how people could live in a small area for their whole life. The thought wouldn’t leave me alone, and it went from a constant wondering to where I finally had to try for myself.
“The impact my first visit made on me left me in shock. ‘Common sense’ was failing me. Inside the walls of the convent was such joy—especially during recreation when the roar of laughter shook the house—that I didn’t want to leave. My mind was telling me that everything they were doing was pointless and a waste of time. Yet people in the world who had all they wanted on a material level did not have the true peace that radiated from their whole person.
“What I was experiencing was the joy of the cross, and that is what attracted me and drew me to the contemplative life. The convent did nothing special to draw me in except share the love of Christ and just live their life.”
Sr. Maria Faustina, 25, from Mason, OH, is at the Passionist monastery in Whitesville, KY.
She says, “There were several elements that attracted me to the cloistered life. First of all, I instinctively knew that if I was ever called to the religious life, I had to be a contemplative religious. In the midst of my busy daily life, I felt very drawn to spending extended periods of time in prayer and I would strive to find time after a busy day to go into my room and just be alone with the Lord. Prayer energized me more than anything else, and if I filled my day with constant activity and hardly any prayer, I was left feeling very frazzled and spiritually empty.
“I especially enjoyed Lectio Divina, praying with the Scriptures and just speaking to the Lord from the heart and listening to Him. Gradually, my call to prayer became stronger, until I was ultimately inspired to give my entire life to prayer and adoration of the Lord – to be a living, breathing prayer to the Lord.
“Secondly, I truly began to understand the value of prayer when I read writings from the saints, such as St. Thérèse of Lisieux and St. Faustina. I was also very impacted by Our Lady’s messages at Lourdes and Fatima. I realized how essential prayer truly is for the world and for souls. Prayer changes history: world history and personal histories. Fr. Thomas Nelson, OPRAEM says somewhere that cloistered contemplatives are called to fight in the front lines of the spiritual battle. In light of all of this, I began to feel an increasing urgency to give myself to the Lord in a life of prayer. It felt as though this was how I could best unite myself with the Lord in saving souls.
“Thirdly, I had a great desire to be completely set apart for the Lord. Cloistered contemplatives are called to be like Mary of Bethany, sitting at the feet of Jesus. We give up the freedom to roam around physically in the world, so that our souls have the freedom to fly to God. What we give up in physical freedom, we truly do gain in spiritual freedom, which is a freedom that will endure eternally. The enclosure is a very efficacious aid to staying recollected in God throughout the day, to give whole-hearted and undivided attention to Him. For me, this all became increasingly attractive.
“Ultimately, we are all called to be saints, and after much discernment I became convinced that this was the path that God had marked out for me, and I just needed to go forward and follow Him. I felt a great attraction to cloistered life, but what ultimately made me choose it above all other paths was the conviction that it was God’s plan for my life.
Asked how she found her vocation and, in particular, found her monastery, she responded, “When I was studying abroad in Rome during my junior year of college, I began searching ‘signs of a religious vocation’ (or something along those lines) on the Internet, and the website to St. Joseph Monastery kept coming up.
“When I went onto the website and read about the charism and devotion of the Passionist nuns, it seemed that this group of nuns practiced the very spirituality which God had already been forming in me throughout my life. Nevertheless, I put the website and the community in the back of my mind and didn’t think much more about them.
“A year later I began meeting with a Dominican priest for spiritual and vocational direction. I had not said anything to him about this community, but about five months into meeting with him, he found the website of this very same community and recommended that I visit them, since they seemed to match my personal spirituality.
“To me that was a pretty clear indication that God wanted me to visit this community. As I continued discerning with them, their blog was a helpful way to follow the life of the community. In the end, it was helpful that St. Joseph Monastery had a website that was easy to find. That, combined with direction, aided my discernment.
Before entering the religious life, she had graduated from the University of Dayton where she majored in foreign languages with a concentration in Italian and Spanish and minored in business administration with a concentration in international business. Following graduation, she “worked for two years after college as an SAP (Systems, Applications & Products) Consultant before I entered the religious life.”
Please pray for all of these great young women.
(Cover photo credit: Toni Greaves)