A man finding his betrothed already with child by another, was planning on leaving her. He went ballistic on Facebook, Twitter and other social media shaming and humiliating her in every way possible. The perfect way to seek his revenge and the perfect way for him to save face.
I don’t recall the exact liturgical date that the Holy Spirit invaded my innermost being in a most frightening yet extraordinarily loving way, that brought me back into the fulness of the Catholic Church, the Church that Jesus began. I was so overcome
At the beginning of the year, I wrote two blog posts about an experience seeking reconciliation at the cathedral in my archdiocese. A few months later, I read an article where Pope Francis seemed to specifically address my post on confession head-on.
Yea, I know the Catholic Church teaches that, but how can that be? It’s all stories right. Go ahead, list your reasons why you don’t believe, why you’re not sure, why it doesn’t matter to you, why you don’t feel like thinking about it. Add in your ill feelings toward the Catholic Church and what they teach, how they are out of step with the world and how they have to catch up with reality. Yes. I completely understand. Because that’s what I thought. Continue reading Truth→
Music is subjective. A song that hits you at the core of your being could just be fingernails on a chalkboard to another. Disco was fingernails on the chalkboard for me. I couldn’t change the station on the radio quick enough. When punk music hit the scene I was hoping it would be the death of disco. I didn’t care for the antics that went along with punk music but I loved the raw energy it delivered.
Thank you Shalom World for publishing my reversion story back to the Catholic Church, “Coming Back Home” in your latest issue of Shalom Tidings Magazine, February/March 2017.
COMING BACK HOME
By Billy Gillespie
Life was good. Or so I thought. I was living in New York City on the upper Westside with my new bride, and working as an actor. Maybe you have seen one of my award winning performances: Dunking my face into a bowl of baked beans, singing into a chunk of Velveeta cheese, talking with a mouth full of cookies, or maybe as the bright neon orange and green live version the very popular toy at the time, “Big Frank.” As well as in film, TV shows, theatre, and something very dear to me, Third Rail Comedy, the sketch comedy group I was a founding member of. One of our reviews at the time said we were “rude, crude and lewd.” We considered that a badge of honor. I was auditioning or filming during the day and performing sketch comedy in clubs at night. Yes, life was good. But let me back up a bit.
After everyone slowly made their way out, in silence, I sat alone in the reconciliation chapel of the Cathedral unable to move. Sitting in that uncomfortable wooden chair, the back of my head leaning against the thick cement wall, I felt isolated and removed from all existence.
Our Cathedral offers weekday confession one hour before Mass, which I take advantage of from time to time. Outside the confessional, there are twelve rather uncomfortable wooden chairs on which to wait. Like some sort of pre-penance I suppose. On this particular day, all chairs were occupied with a few people standing, forming a line at the end. As I took up my position at the end of the line,
A few years ago I had the opportunity to attend my first Los Angeles Archdiocese Religious Education Congress in Anaheim, California. My friend Richard and I drove from Los Angeles, Saturday morning, arriving about 15 minutes before the Keynote speaker of that day which happened to be, Chicago priest, Father Robert Barron. I can’t remember how I originally learned about Father Barron, but I’ve watched many of his youtube videos, listen to his weekly homilies on his website wordonfire.org, I bought, watched and re-watched several times his beautiful DVD series, Catholicism. So naturally, I was looking forward to seeing him live.