IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
The opening pages of the Bible offer us a series of stories set at the beginning of history which are meant to explain why the world today is as it is. The Adam and Eve story about original sin is one of those stories. There are others. These stories, because they use imagery that might make them sound like fairy tales, can seem total fantasy to us, but they are stories that are truer than true. They happened. They happened to the first man and woman on this planet, and they continue to happen today in a way that affects every man and woman throughout history. They are stories of the heart, not meant to be taken literally, but carrying lessons for the heart.

One of these “in the beginning,” foundational, archetypal, stories is the story of the Tower of Babel. In street language, it goes like this: In the beginning (before time was like it is now) there was a town called Babel which decided it would make a name for itself by building a tower so impressive that all the other towns would have to admire it. They began building the tower, but something strange happened. As they were building it, they suddenly all began to speak different languages, were no longer able to understand each other, and scattered around the world, each now speaking in a language incomprehensible to everyone else.
What’s the lesson? Is this meant to explain the origin of the different languages of the world? No, rather it is meant to explain the deep, seemingly irreconcilable misunderstandings among us. Why do we forever misunderstand each other? What’s at the origin of this?
There are multiple ways this story can be used to shed light on the divisions in our world today. Here’s one: Writing in The Atlantic last year, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt suggested that there is perhaps no better metaphor to explain the divisions among us today than the tower of Babel. His argument runs this way: Social media, the very thing that was meant to connect us not only to our friends and families but to people from around the globe, has in fact led to a radical fragmentation of our society and to the shattering of all that had seemed solid, the scattering of people who had been a community. Take America, for example; while we might still be speaking the same language, social media and cable news echo chambers have supplied us with different sets of facts, values and visions that make actual conversation increasingly impossible.
As the recent tensions around the U.S. presidential elections made evident, as a society we no longer speak the same language in that we can no longer understand each other on virtually every key issue – global warming, immigration, poverty, gender, health, abortion, the place of religion in the public sphere, whose side truth is on, and, most important of all, what truth is. We no longer share any common truths. Rather, we all have our own truth, our own individual language. As the popular saying goes, I have done my own research! I don’t trust science. I don’t trust any mainstream truths. I have my own sources.
And those sources are many, too many to count! Hundreds of television channels, countless podcasts and millions of persons feeding us their idiosyncratic version of things on social media so that now there is skepticism about any fact or truth. This is dividing us at every level: family, neighborhood, church, country and world. We are all now speaking different languages and, like the original inhabitants of Babel, are being scattered around the world.
In the light of this, it is noteworthy how the original Pentecost is described in scripture. The Acts of the Apostles describes Pentecost, the coming of the Holy Spirit, as an event which reverses what happened at the tower of Babel. At the tower of Babel, the languages (the “tongues”) of the earth divided and scattered. At Pentecost, the Holy Spirit descends on each person as a “tongue of fire” so that, to everyone’s great surprise, everyone now understands everyone one else in his or her own language.
Again, what is being described here is not about literal human languages – where at Pentecost everyone suddenly understood Greek or Latin. Rather everyone now understood everyone else in his or her own language. All languages became one language.
What is that common language? It’s neither Greek nor Latin nor English nor French nor Spanish nor Yiddish nor Chinese nor Arabic, nor any other of the world’s spoken languages. Neither is it the less-than-fully-compassionate language of the conservatives or the liberals. It is, as Jesus and our scriptures make clear, the language of charity, joy, peace, patience, goodness, long-suffering, fidelity, gentleness, faith and chastity.
This is the only language which can bridge the misunderstandings and differences among us – and when we are speaking it, we will not be trying to build a tower to impress anyone.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher and award-winning author. He can be contacted through his website www.ronrolheiser.com.)

KNEADING FAITH
By Fran Lavelle
“On the evening of that first day of the week … Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’ When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.” (John 20:19-20)
We are actively being called to the “upper room” to discern the presence of God in our midst. So too we are called to embody the peace of Christ in our own lives and in the world. We are called to be witnesses and workers.
Under Pope Francis’ leadership, the Synod on Synodality completed the formal meetings on Oct. 27 in Rome. While the formal process of the Synod has concluded, the work of the Synod has just begun. The Synod in its entirety represented a new way of being church. It embraced the whole church. The mere fact that lay leaders, young and old, were active participants in the Synod speaks volumes about how the hierarchy, specifically Pope Francis, sees the value of everyone.

I was on a webinar recently hosted by a Jesuit magazine and Gerald O’Connell, a noted journalist, was included on the panel. As a correspondent he has covered the Vatican for years. His experience as an observer and a lay person was one of deep gratitude. He said seeing people from across the globe from every nation, every background, lay and ordained, men and women, young and old, and witnessing them speaking about matters of faith and being listened to – truly heard, was incredible. Father James Martin, SJ further went on to say that the way of synodality can really help us begin to heal as a church and a people.
In my humble opinion, we need synodality now more than ever. If you do not understand why, check your email exchanges and text messages from friends and family whose politics are different than yours. In general, it is unhealthy to carry hatred. For followers of Christ, it is deadly. I have been posing the same question for a decade now and I seem to have gotten little traction. How do we as a politically divided nation end the divisive rhetoric? How do we see one another through the lens of Christ as one? If we cannot find a way back to one another as the Body of Christ, how will the rest of the nation heal? Politics is part of governance. We need to be engaged in issues of the day that promote the ideas of liberty and justice for all. I get that. What has become unhealthy is the full-on attack of anyone who holds a different opinion, or experience.
The process of synodality can move us beyond our divisiveness and so much more. When we adopt a synodal way, we become more aware of the importance of the whole body. In seeking solutions to issues that impact our parishes and schools, synodality offers a way to hear from and consider the voices of those who might not otherwise be heard. It offers a prayerful environment that allows the Holy Spirit to breathe insight and wisdom. Synodality provides an open space to listen in order to hear, to hear to understand, and understand to discern a path forward.
The words of Cardinal Blasé Cupich of Chicago give us a great visual image of what the Synod on Synodality means. He said it is not so much a landing strip, but a launch pad. In other words, it is a place for departure not necessarily landing. I love that image. We need a place of departure if we are going somewhere. And we do need to go somewhere. We have heard it in our own listening around the diocese. We have heard it in our Pastoral Reimagining process, we have heard it from clergy and laity alike. The Spirit of God is always moving forward. Our ability to prepare for both challenges and opportunities that lie ahead of us deserve a launching pad.
The Nov. 12, 2024 edition of America Magazine included a “Q and A” article with Cardinal Cupich, in which Gerald O’Connell asked what the Cardinal’s take away from the Synod was. He responded:
“We have taken another step forward with regard to building a culture of synodality in the life of the church and calling everyone not only to be co-responsible for the church but for all of us to say that everybody counts, that everybody matters. There are people who, maybe for too long, have been given the impression that they don’t matter, they don’t count. And the Pope, in his closing words yesterday, emphasized involving “tutti, tutti” (“all, all”). I believe that is the way forward for us, to make sure that we now take actions to not only establish a broad base of co-responsibility in the life of the church, but we reach out to those people who feel that they don’t count.”
We are being called to the launch pad. We are being asked to do our part to take up the difficult work of our faith that we may be one. Let’s go!

(Fran Lavelle is the Director of Faith Formation for the Diocese of Jackson.)

FAITH IN EDUCATION
By Karla Luke
For 31 years, my mother dedicated herself to shaping young minds as a second-grade teacher. Growing up, I never imagined I would follow a similar path – until I taught my first middle school class at St. Frances Cabrini Catholic School in New Orleans. From that moment, I discovered an unexpected and profound joy in working with students and seeing their growth and success. Their energy, curiosity and potential filled me with a sense of purpose and helped me to see God’s plan for my life. Since then, I’ve dedicated my career to Catholic education, cherishing the privilege of building meaningful relationships with young people.

It’s not enough to declare that young people are the future of the church; they are its present. As Catholic educators, we are tasked with nurturing in them a love for God, others and their faith. This week, I was reminded of this sacred duty with the announcement of an upcoming canonization that holds profound significance for our times – Blessed Carlo Acutis, the first millennial to be declared a saint, will be canonized on April 27, 2025 by Pope Francis.
The remarkable life of Blessed Carlo Acutis
Carlo Acutis, born in London in 1991 and raised in Milan, Italy, exemplifies the intersection of modernity and faith. From a young age, Carlo displayed a deep love for God, actively participating in his Catholic school, church and community as a catechist. Despite his ordinary academic performance and unassuming demeanor, Carlo left an extraordinary legacy of faith.
A technology enthusiast, gamer and music lover, Carlo used his passion for computers to create websites that cataloged Eucharistic miracles, bringing the beauty of faith to the digital age. At just 15 years old, he was diagnosed with leukemia, facing his illness with profound faith, declaring, “I offer all the suffering I will have to suffer for the Lord, for the Pope, and the church.” Carlo died in 2006, and his cause for canonization began in 2012.
Today, Carlo is enshrined in his tomb wearing Nikes and jeans – a modern saint for a modern world. His life is a powerful reminder of what is possible when young people are formed in their faith.
A model for today’s Catholic educators
In Carlo, we see a reflection of the “Carlos and Carlas” present in our schools today – children with limitless potential for spiritual and moral development. Pope Francis calls Carlo “a model of holiness in the digital age.” His life challenges parents, teachers, administrators, religious and clergy to ask: How are we fostering the growth of faith in our young people?
The Archbishop of Assisi highlighted Carlo’s unique ability to evangelize in modern times, saying, “The computer … has become a way of going through the streets of the world, like the first disciples of Jesus, to bring to hearts and homes the announcement of true peace.”
The responsibility of Catholic adults
As adults in the Catholic faith, we bear both the responsibility and accountability to accompany our young people – the “young church” – on their path to holiness. Catholic schools play a vital role in this mission, partnering with parents to cultivate the spiritual, moral and intellectual development of students. Blessed Carlo Acutis offers us a roadmap for this journey.
Carlo once said, “To always be close to Jesus, that’s my life plan.” Let us help our children adopt this vision, supporting them in their faith through our schools, churches and homes. Together, we can prepare the next generation to live with faith, purpose and holiness in a world that desperately needs their light.
As we await Carlo’s canonization, let us reflect on the lives of the young people around us and recommit to nurturing their spiritual growth. In their potential lies not just the future of the church but its vibrant, faithful present.
For additional information on the extraordinary life of Blessed Carlo Acutis visit: https://bit.ly/3V8np4Q.

(Karla Luke is the executive director of Catholic Schools for the Diocese of Jackson)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese
For many the outcome of the election is a disaster … for others a great boon. If you are a political geek (like me) you will have paid attention to speeches, debates and anything else that would show the how, when, where’s of it all. ‘Do no harm’ seems a requisite for the move forward.

You know there is nothing worse than losing (for the losers) and nothing more joyful and puffing up than winning (for the winners). There are so many in between who didn’t even participate and for them it is ho-hum, as usual, who cares? “The humiliation of living somewhere between knee socks and support hose served as another reminder that the secrets I try hardest to conceal are the one most often exposed.” (Tina Krause, Embarrassing Moments, 2008). We will soon discover the ‘secrets’ and be exposed to what has been ‘concealed’. Well, who cares are the most vulnerable and those with no sense of humor. Don’t get me wrong … elections matter and there’s nothing funny about them … but in the outcomes we might need a deep breath or two.

“Humor is a divine quality, and God has the greatest sense of humor of all. He must have otherwise He wouldn’t have made so many politicians.” (MLK, Jr.) You have to wonder what would bring out a certain joy (maybe that it’s over?) in the public (especially the losers). What is the answer to a miserable look forward when one was so sure of another outcome? Are you kidding me is the response of some, and don’t be a sore loser that of the others.

One thing that struck me as funny was how there was very little or no ‘cheating’. Did you notice that? Is politics just a mugs game or is governing a sacred duty? Who are the leaders we elect?

“Asked about his position on whiskey, a Congressman replied:” ‘if you mean the demon drink that poisons the mind, pollutes the body, desecrates family life, and inflames sinners, then I’m against it. But, if you mean the elixir of Christmas cheer, the shield against winter chill, the taxable potion that puts needed funds into public coffers to comfort little crippled children, then I’m for it. This is my position, and I will not compromise!” (Rev. Karl Kraft, New Jersey, 1999)

We need a bit of therapy just now … winners and losers both to bring back some sense of a common good. Is there such a thing? I think there is and no matter where one fell, winner or loser, striving to make sure the most vulnerable are at the heart is critical. Resentment festers. “Laughter is God’s medicine; the most beautiful therapy God ever gave humanity.” (anon)

Regular life, just our day to day causes us to consider how much we need heart therapy. “The washing machine overflows, your toddler comes down with the chicken pox, the septic system quits, and you still have casserole to prepare and tables to decorate for the big family reunion you promised to host in your home the next day. It is tough to smile at times like these. Most of us would prefer to stay in bed, pull the sheets over our head, and refuse to budge until things get better. Yet when life’s irritants bug us more than a swam of pesky mosquitoes and troubles spread faster than cold germs, laugher is what we need the most … humor is heart therapy.” (Tina Krause, 2008) What that therapy looks like will vary but I think it matters who we think about and who we pray for. Who needs our laugh?

As we move toward Thanksgiving Day and for some that dreadful dinner where politics, religion and other hot button issues are either exaggerated or ignored, let’s try to put things in perspective.

“A Sunday school teacher asked her class about the meaning of Easter. A little boy raised his hand and said, ‘that’s when we shoot off firecrackers and celebrate our freedom!’ A little girl said, ‘no that’s when we eat the turkey and give thanks.’ ‘I know,’ a third youngster exclaimed, ‘that’s when Jesus comes out of the tomb … but if He sees his shadow, He goes back in.’“ (Father Harry Winter, OMI, 1999)

Life might just be a little bit like that for a while. We will have many opportunities to lighten up the situation as well as delve deeply into the pros and cons as we move into the holidays. So, I wish you all the opportunity of giving thanks for all things as Paul teaches and to be grateful for your pastor!

“A new pastor, eager to make sure the church’s employees would like him, called them together shortly before Thanksgiving Day approached and told them that each of them would receive a turkey. ‘In fact,’ he said, ‘as long as I’m around you will always have a turkey.’ “ (Msgr. Charles Dollen, The Priest, 1999)
Blessings.

(Sister alies therese is a canonically vowed hermit with days formed around prayer and writing.)

MORE THAN WORDS
By Bishop Robert Reed
Those of us who have experienced the death of a loved one, even if we believe that she or he has gone to a better place, still find ourselves struggling with the parting. It’s hard to let go. Sometimes it’s made a little easier if we have been present for someone’s last days, and at the moment of their death, when we experience the whole strange (and often quite beautiful) mystery of living and dying being played out before our very eyes.

Still, parting is, as Shakespeare wrote, “such sweet sorrow.”
In November, death seems uniquely before us Catholics. The month begins with the great memorial of our saints, followed the next day by the commemoration of all who have passed from this life before us.
And then the nights grow longer, and the winds come. The familiar and warm rustle of leaves diminishes and is replaced with the dry-bones clickety-click of bare branches. It all helps us to remember, and keenly, that “we have no lasting city” (Heb 13:14). At least not one here, on earth.
Thanks be to God that we Christians know physical death is not an end to our lives, but a portal to what St. Paul calls “the city that is yet to come.”

The Gospels are an invitation to us to believe fully in the glory and power of God; to hand ourselves over in all things; to put our doubts and fears themselves to death!

Think of the emotion expressed in the 11th chapter of the Gospel of John, when Lazarus, Jesus’ close friend, has died. His sisters are devastated, and their heartache moves the Lord to tears. Jesus reaches into the situation. He touches the air all around it – a word through the Word – and transforms it. Death to life. The Messiah has revealed the glory and power of God, for whom all things are possible.

The focus of our good prayer this month is not directly on us, but on those who have gone before – our ancestors of genetic and spiritual oneness. It is a venerable tradition for us, as people of faith, to remember those whom we have had to let go: grandparents, parents, siblings, relatives and friends, and those whom we have come to know, love and pray with, within the great “cloud of witnesses.”

Time can soften our griefs, but our attachments remain, until we too must be mourned and then released.
And yet – never forget this! – we who have been baptized into Christ’s death live with a substantial hope; one that does not disappoint. As the book of Wisdom teaches, our hope is “full of immortality” (Wis 3:4).
That hope helps us to wonder at the depths of pain, grief and confusion that death can bring us to, until we begin to perceive the mysterious “rest of the story.” That we are standing and grieving and growing and necessarily carrying on with our lives, while encountering a place of transition, a sacred passage – a gate through which we know with certitude we too must pass – into what Christ Jesus proved to us through his resurrection: the reality of eternal life.

“Baptized into his death … we were buried therefore with him,” St. Paul preached to the Romans (Rom 6: 3-4), “so that as Christ was raised from the dead … we too might walk in the newness of life.”

That’s a refreshing concept, isn’t it? “The newness of life” encourages us to embrace all seasons of our time here and to open our minds, hearts and souls to Christ in everything that comes to us, because in all of it – the joyful and the painful and the uncertain – a kind of newness of life is revealed.

Things change; they do not end. And isn’t that a wonderful thing to contemplate, as we approach the close of another liturgical year, and look forward to the deep expectation of Advent?

(Bishop Robert P. Reed is an auxiliary bishop of the Archdiocese of Boston, pastor of St. Patrick and Sacred Heart parishes in Watertown, Massachusetts, and president of the CatholicTV Network. He is chairman of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops’ Committee on Communications.)

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
On borders everywhere in the world today we find refugees, millions of them. They’re easily demonized, seen as a nuisance, a threat, as invaders, as criminals fleeing justice in their homelands. But mostly they are decent, honest people fleeing poverty, hunger, victimization and violence. And these reasons for fleeing their homelands strongly suggest that most of them are not criminals.

Irrespective of the fact that most of them are good people, they are still seen most everywhere as a problem. We need to keep them out! They are a threat! Indeed, politicians frequently use the verb invasion to describe their presence on our borders.

What’s to be said about this? Do we just let everyone in? Do we select judiciously among them, letting some in and keeping others out? Do we put up walls and barbed wire to block their entry? What’s to be our response?

These questions need to be examined from two perspectives: pragmatically and biblically.

Pragmatically this is a huge issue. We cannot simply open all borders and let millions of people flood into our countries. That’s unrealistic. On the other hand, we may not justify our reluctance to let refugees into our countries by appealing to the Bible, or to Jesus, or to the naïve rationalization that “our” countries are ours and we have a right to be here while others don’t unless we grant them entrance. Why not?

For Christians, there are a number of non-negotiable biblical principles at play here.

First, God made the world for everybody. We are stewards of a property not our own. We don’t own anything, God does, and God made the world for everybody. That’s a principle we too easily ignore when we speak of barring others from entering “our” country. We happen to be stewards here, in a country that belongs to the whole world.

Second, the Bible everywhere, in both testaments of scripture, is clear (and strong) in challenging us to welcome the stranger and the immigrant. This is everywhere present in the Jewish scriptures and is a strong motif at the very heart of Jesus’ message. Indeed, Jesus begins his ministry by telling us that he has come to bring good news to the poor. Hence, any teaching, preaching, pastoral practice, political policy or action that is not good news for the poor is not the Gospel of Jesus Christ, whatever its political or ecclesial expediency. And, if it is not good news for the poor, it may not cloak itself with the Gospel or with Jesus. Hence, any decisions we make vis-à-vis refugees and immigrants should not be antithetical to the fact that the Gospels are about bringing good news to the poor.

Moreover, Jesus makes this even clearer when he identifies the poor with his own person (Whatsoever you do to the least of my people, you do to me) and tells us that at the end of the day we will be judged by how we treat the immigrants and refugees. (Depart from me because I was a stranger and you didn’t welcome me.) There are few texts in scripture as raw and challenging as this one (Matthew 25:35-40)

Finally, we also find this challenge in scripture: God challenges us to welcome foreigners (immigrants) and share our love, food and clothing with them because we ourselves were once immigrants. (Deuteronomy 10:18-19) And this isn’t just some abstract biblical axiom, especially for us who live in North America. Except for the Indigenous nations (whom we forcefully displaced) we are all immigrants here and are challenged by our faith never to forget this, not least when dealing with hungry people on our borders. Of course, those of us who have been here for a number of generations can make the moral case that we have been here a long time and are no longer immigrants. But perhaps a more compelling moral case can be made suggesting it can be rather self-serving to close the borders after we ourselves are in.

These are biblical challenges. However, after they are affirmed, we are still left with the practical question; what realistically do we (and many countries around the world) do with the millions and millions of men, women and children arriving at our border? How do we honor the fact that the land we live in belongs to everyone? How do we honor that fact that, as Christians, we have to think first about the poor? How will we face Jesus in judgment when he asks us why we didn’t welcome him when he was in the guise of a refugee? And how do we honor the fact that almost every one of us is an immigrant, living in a country we forcibly took from someone else?

There are no easy answers to those questions, even while at the end of the day we still need to make some practical political decisions.

However, in our pragmatism, in sorting this out, we should never be confused about which side Jesus and the Bible are on.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher and award-winning author. He can be contacted through his website www.ronrolheiser.com.)