This summer marks the 50th anniversary of Humanae Vitae. The world has changed dramatically since Pope Paul VI wrote the encyclical, mostly in ways he foretold.
I’m terrified of becoming holy. I’m terrified of actually allowing God to mold me into the saint He’s created me to be. I’m terrified of what all that entails, mainly because I can’t control it.
The pope was a patriot.
The year was 1983, and Poland was under martial law. St. John Paul II, making his second pastoral visit to his homeland, upon reaching the airport tarmac bent forward and kissed the ground. He remarked during the arrival ceremony that the kiss had a special meaning for him.
Today I have to admit that I’m tired … a bone-weary, overwhelming exhaustion that doesn’t get better with a cup of coffee, a walk in the fresh air, or a break on the couch.
Among the saints, John the Baptist is one of the great ones. On the Catholic calendar, only three people have a birthday celebration: Jesus, Mary and John the Baptist. In the icon tradition of Eastern Christianity, Jesus is often shown seated on his heavenly throne, with Mary on one side and John on the other, appealing to him on behalf of the needs of the world.