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.)

FAITH IN EDUCATION
By Karla Luke
The Catholic Schools and Early Learning Centers in the Diocese of Jackson are eagerly gearing up for the renewal of their accreditation with Cognia, an esteemed accrediting body for K-12 institutions in the U.S. and globally. Since 2019, the Office of Catholic Education (OCE) has held system-wide accreditation for all Catholic schools within the diocese, a commitment that has prompted notable growth and advancements across the system. Now, as renewal approaches, school leaders are ready to showcase their developments in educational excellence and student-centered progress.

Cognia’s legacy of accreditation excellence
Cognia, formerly known as AdvancED, is a nonprofit that accredits schools with a focus on continuous improvement. Founded in 2006, Cognia brought together the pre-college divisions of two major accreditation groups: the North Central Association’s Commission on Accreditation and School Improvement (NCA CASI) and the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools Commission on Accreditation and School Improvement (SACS CASI). Following further expansions, including a merger with Measured Progress in 2018, Cognia emerged as a leading accrediting agency recognized by the U.S. Department of Education in 2019.

The Diocese of Jackson’s journey with Cognia builds upon a longstanding relationship with its predecessor, SACS CASI. Since 1975, schools like Vicksburg Catholic Schools, St. Joseph Madison, and Cathedral Natchez have held SACS accreditation. By 2020, all remaining schools in the diocese had secured full system accreditation, further solidifying their commitment to academic and spiritual growth.

Why Cognia? Focusing on Systemic Growth Over Compliance
Choosing Cognia for system-wide accreditation allows the diocese to emphasize continuous improvement, focusing not just on meeting standards but on showing how those standards drive real change. Unlike some accrediting bodies that prioritize compliance, Cognia’s approach is student-centered, emphasizing learning engagement, school culture, student development, and strong leadership that fosters a culture of achievement. Cognia’s platform also equips the OCE with tools like professional development resources, assessments and strategic planning aids that are crucial for making well-informed decisions.

The renewal process for Cognia accreditation involves in-depth reviews in seven essential areas: Culture of Learning, Leadership for Learning, Engagement in Learning, Student Growth, Student Performance, Stakeholder Analysis, and Learning Environment. The OCE Accreditation Leadership Team – led by Karla Luke (OCE), Dr. Dena Kinsey (St. Joseph-Madison), Mary Arledge (Vicksburg Catholic Schools), Kimberly Burkley (Cathedral Catholic School), Rachel Patterson (OCE) and Virginia Hollingsworth (OCE) – recently presented on Oct. 15, a detailed executive summary to Dr. Michael Bratcher, Cognia’s regional accreditation advisor, outlining the diocese’s mission, vision, values and accomplishments.

Since the initial accreditation, the diocese has launched numerous initiatives, including a three-year strategic plan, enhanced academic standards, strengthened assessment programming, and the opening of two new early learning centers in Vicksburg (Sisters of Mercy) and Jackson (St. Richard). Feedback gathered from focus groups held on Oct. 22 and 24, highlighted both achievements, such as improved Catholic identity, responsive teaching practices, and communication improvements, and areas for growth, like expanded parent education and ongoing opportunities for feedback.

Continuing a tradition of faith and excellence
As the Diocese of Jackson moves forward in its accreditation renewal, the commitment to fostering a Christ-centered, academically excellent environment remains unwavering. Through the dedication of faculty, staff and administrators, the OCE is assisting by cultivating lifelong learners, effective communicators, and collaborative contributors to society, all rooted in their faith.
Blessings in faith, hope and love.

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

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington
Why is the life of a saint who died more than 1,600 years ago relevant to us today? In other words, why does St. Martin of Tours (315 to 397) still matter? The short answer is because his was a life well lived. There is much we can learn from him about respecting the dignity of each person and about practicing the church’s preferential option for the poor.

Born into a pagan family in present-day Hungary and raised in what is now Italy, Martin enrolled as a catechumen at a tender age. His father, an officer in the Imperial Roman army, wanted his son to pursue a military career, but Martin had no interest in becoming a soldier. Nevertheless, he was conscripted into the army. At age eighteen he was baptized. Two years later he left the military, proclaiming: “I am a soldier of Christ; it is not lawful for me to fight.” Interestingly, Martin’s feast day, Nov. 11, is also Veterans Day, which honors all who have served in the military and, additionally, commemorates the signing of the Armistice that ended fighting in World War I.

After leaving the army, Martin met Hilary, Bishop of Poitier, who encouraged the young man to return to Italy to try to win over his family and friends to the Christian faith. But upon arriving there he found himself surrounded by followers of the Arian heresy. After struggling to convert the Arians, Martin returned to Gaul (France) and established a monastery near Poitiers, where he gathered a group of followers and began preaching throughout the area. Because of his holiness, asceticism, and reputation as a miracle worker, the people elected him Bishop of Tours.

Martin founded many churches and monasteries and became a strong defender of the faith, fighting pagans and heretics with words rather than the sword. Known for his compassion, he became an early opponent of the death penalty and often pled for mercy on behalf of those condemned to death.
Because of Martin’s renown as a healer, people with various diseases and disorders came to him seeking cures, among them a leper, a paralytic, and a woman with an issue of blood. He also drove out evil spirits from the demon possessed and raised the dead. Those in the latter category included a man who had died without baptism, another who had hanged himself, and a third man, whose resuscitation resulted in the conversion a large crowd of pagans who had witnessed the miracle. Once, when a pagan attempted to behead him, the sword separated itself from the would-be assassin’s hand and fell harmlessly to the ground.

The most memorable incident in this great saint’s life occurred in the city of Amiens during his stint in the army. On a cold winter’s day as Martin was riding through the gate leaving the city, he encountered a practically naked beggar who was freezing from the cold. Deeply moved by the poor man’s suffering, the young soldier took his sword in hand, cut his cloak in two, and gave half to the poor stranger. That night Martin experienced a vision of Christ clothed in the portion of the cloak he had given to the beggar.

This great act of charity, immortalized in El Greco’s painting “St. Martin and the Beggar” and Van Dyck’s “St. Martin Dividing His Cloak,” brings to mind the admonition: “Whoever has two tunics should share with the person who has none.” (Luke 3:11) St. Ambrose, a contemporary of St. Martin, expressed it this way: “If you have two shirts in your closet, one belongs to you and the other to the man with no shirt.”

I like to think St. Martin had so internalized the teachings of Matthew 25 that he helped the beggar because charity was second nature to him. In Matthew 25:34-40 Jesus tells the blessed they will inherit the kingdom because they came to his aid when He was in need; among other things, He was naked and they clothed Him. These righteous ones, not realizing what Jesus meant, question Him about it, implying that they really didn’t do anything at all for their Lord. Then the King of Kings replies: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”

How should we respond to the plight of the poor? Of course, we should pray for them, but that’s not enough. We must put our faith in action by performing the corporal works of mercy. Specifically, we are called to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit the prisoner. This is what St. Paul meant by “faith working through love.” (Galatians 5:6b)
With so many needs and so many opportunities for giving of our time and resources, it shouldn’t be hard to find ways to follow St. Martin’s example. Contributing to relief efforts for those attempting to put their lives back together in the wake of the recent hurricanes is just one way. If we open our eyes and ears, the needs in our local communities will become readily apparent to us.

St. Martin of Tours, the soldier who didn’t want to fight, was one of the first holy persons to become a saint without being martyred. His abiding concern for the poor, the sick, and the imprisoned made him a model of compassion for his generation and an inspiration to Christians across the centuries. May this “soldier of Christ” inspire in us a fervent desire to become models of “faith working through love.”

(Melvin Arrington is a Professor Emeritus of Modern Languages for the University of Mississippi and a member of St. John Oxford.)

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Creeds ground us. Within a short formula they summarize the main tenets of our faith and keep us mindful of the truths that anchor us.

As a Christian, I pray two creeds, The Apostles’ Creed and The Nicene Creed. But I also pray another creed which grounds me in some deep truths which are not always sufficiently recognized as inherent in our Christian creeds. This creed, given in the Epistle to the Ephesians, is stunningly brief and simply reads: There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God who is Father of us all.

That’s a lot in a few words! This creed, while Christian, takes in all denominations, all faiths, and all sincere persons everywhere. Everyone on the planet can pray this creed because ultimately there is only one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God who created and loves us all.

This has far-reaching consequences for how we understand God, other Christian denominations, other faiths, sincere non-believers, and ourselves. There is only one God, no matter our denomination, particular faith, or no explicit faith at all. The one same God is the loving creator and parent of everyone. And that one God has no favorites, doesn’t dislike certain persons, denominations, or faiths, and never disdains goodness or sincerity, no matter their particular religious or secular cloak.

And these are some of the consequences: First, Jesus assures us that God is the author of all that is good. In addition, as Christians we believe that God has certain transcendental attributes, namely, God is one, true, good, and beautiful. If that is true (and how could it be otherwise?), then everything we see in our world that is integral, true, good, or beautiful, whatever its outward label (Roman Catholic, Protestant, Evangelical, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, Muslim, New Age, Neo-Pagan, or purely Secular), comes from God and must be honored.

John Muir once challenged Christianity with this question: Why are Christians so reluctant to let animals into their stingy heaven? The creed in the Epistle to the Ephesians asks something similar: Why are Christians so reluctant to let other denominations, other faiths, and good sincere people without explicit faith into our stingy concept of God, Christ, faith, and the church? Why are we afraid of faith fellowship with Christians of other denominations? Why are we afraid of faith fellowship with sincere Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and New Age religious? Why are we afraid of paganism? Why are we afraid of natural sacraments?

There can be good reasons. First, we do need to safeguard precisely the truths expressed in our creeds and not slide into an amorphous syncretism in which everything is relative, where all truths and all religions are equal, and the only dogmatic requirement is that we be nice to each other. Although there is, in fact, something (religious) to be said about being nice to each other, the more important point is that embracing each other in faith fellowship is not saying that all faiths are equal and that one’s particular denomination or faith tradition is unimportant. Rather it is acknowledging (importantly) that, at the end of the day, we are all one family, under one God, and that we need to embrace each other as brothers and sisters. Despite our differences, we all have the same radical creed.

Then too, as Christians, we believe that Christ is the unique mediator between God and ourselves. As Jesus puts it, no one goes to the Father, except through me. If that is true, and as Christians we hold that as dogma, then where does that leave Hindus, Buddhists, Taoists, Jews, Muslims, New Agers, Neo-Pagans, and sincere non-believers? How do they share the kingdom with us Christians since they do not believe in Christ?

As Christians, we have always had answers to that question. The Catholic catechisms of my youth spoke of a “baptism of desire” as a way of entry into the mystery of Christ. Karl Rahner spoke of sincere persons being “anonymous Christians.” Frank de Graeve spoke of a reality he called “Christ-ianity”, as a mystery wider than historical “Christianity”; and Pierre Teilhard de Chardin spoke of Christ as being the final anthropological and cosmological structure within the evolutionary process itself. What all of these are saying is that the mystery of Christ cannot be identified simplistically with the historical Christian churches. The mystery of Christ works through the historical Christian churches but also works, and works widely, outside of our churches and outside the circles of explicit faith.

Christ is God and therefore is found wherever anyone is in the presence of oneness, truth, goodness, and beauty. Kenneth Cragg, after many years as a missionary with the Muslims, suggested that it is going to take all the religions of the world to give full expression to the full Christ.

There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God who is Father of us all – and so we should not be so reluctant to let others, not of our own kind, into our stingy heaven.

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