That is the question, isn’t it? Is Jesus the Son of God… God? Or isn’t he? C. S. Lewis posed the question this way, “Liar, lunatic or Lord?” My question is short and to the point. If Jesus isn’t God, then we’ve been duped. We are fools. We were lied to, unwitting numbskulls who should be mocked and ridiculed not unlike what is taking place around the world at this moment in time as the world moves away from God.
More seriously,
Continue reading Is He or Isn’t he?
Whenever I’m in a Catholic Church I find myself gazing upon the crucifix, contemplating this act of self sacrifice Jesus willingly obliged His Father. More and more as I visit Catholic Churches in various states, I am discovering something rather peculiar as in the photo above. Can you see it?
Continue reading Sanitized for Your Protection
Where you been? I have been asked this a lot lately both online and from friends.
Years before my spiritual world was rocked and I had my life changing experience that led me back to the fullness and beauty of the Catholic Church, I realized that I didn’t know or like who I was. So I began the journey inward to discover who I was and find reconciliation. What I didn’t realize was, that I was preparing my soil.
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.
Wait, this story is
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
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.
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.
If you’ve read my reversion story you know I was searching everywhere for meaning in my life. Searching for myself. I finally succumbed to the longing in my heart and made a concerted effort to attend Mass on a regular basis and would ask myself the same question over and over. “There has got to be something more to this (Mass) than just this (what I am seeing).”
I am Confused. Perplexed. I am unable to comprehend the state of race relations in our country at this moment in time. I can’t help but think back to seventh grade, the first year of forced busing where I grew up in Florida. In my reversion story I confess that I was an