Religion

What does it truly signify to pardon someone? This is among the most common inquiries my wife and I receive on our call-in radio show.
We are all aware that Jesus expects us to forgive “seventy-seven times” (Mt 18:22), yet we often lack clarity on what forgiveness truly entails. Frequently, we believe that if we still experience pain or distress regarding an offense, it indicates that we haven’t truly forgiven the wrongdoer. Alternatively, we might think it is unfair to hold the offender accountable for mending the hurt they inflicted or repairing the harm they caused. Such misconceptions can transform the act of forgiveness into a heavier load than it is intended to be.
St. Augustine stated that forgiveness essentially means relinquishing one’s inherent entitlement to vengeance. In other words, when you cease to desire to harm someone for having harmed you, or do not wish for misfortune to befall them as a result of their actions towards you, you have extended forgiveness. Full stop. That’s all that forgiveness necessitates.

Catholics and individuals globally link St. Valentine’s celebration with affection and passion. Below are five couples who are saints today as they expressed a calling of love for one another — and for God.
1. Saints Louis Martin and Marie-Azélie Guérin (Zélie)
Pope Francis canonized the French pair Louis Martin (1823-94) and Zélie Guérin (1831-77) in 2015. Louis, a watchmaker, along with Zélie, a lacemaker, sought to join religious life before deciding on marriage. They are likely most recognized for being the parents of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, their youngest child.
St. Thérèse was one of nine offspring welcomed by the Martins; four passed away in early childhood, while the remaining five — all females — entered religious communities.
The journey of the couple towards sanctity reflects the “little way” that St. Thérèse is renowned for — performing minor acts with profound love.
“The blessed couple Louis Martin and Marie-Azélie Guérin carried out their Christian duties within the family, cultivating daily an atmosphere of love and faith that fostered the callings of their daughters,” Pope Francis remembered during their canonization.
Their celebration day is July 12.
2. Saints Aquila and Priscilla
Sts. Aquila and Priscilla played a significant part in the early Christian community. The Jewish tentmakers who embraced Christianity moved to Corinth following their exile from Rome. During their time in Corinth, they met St. Paul, another tentmaker whom they invited into their residence.

The clergy, brothers, and sisters who embrace the evangelical counsel of poverty did not pledge to be impoverished, to exist in filth, or to wear tattered clothing. They similarly never committed to abstaining from the sporadic glass of wine or a gourmet meal.
In fulfilling their pledge of poverty, the religious have committed to a simple lifestyle and relinquish specific advantages — like possessing a personal residence and retaining their own income — that numerous lay Catholics might assume as normal.
Father Bretzke
“I possess a checking account with funds provided by the community, but it’s quite restrictive,” stated Jesuit Father James Bretzke, who instructs moral theology at John Carroll University in the outskirts of Cleveland. His teaching income is allocated to his Jesuit community, which provides him approximately $9,000 — for the entire year — for his personal expenses.
“If you were required to survive on $9,000, I believe you’d be quite cautious,” Father Bretzke expressed to Our Sunday Visitor. He mentioned that the evangelical counsel of poverty is meant to liberate religious priests such as himself for apostolic activities.
“Poverty is also intended to humble us,” remarked Father Bretzke, who noted that in Ignatian spirituality, this is interpreted as being liberated from attachments.
Cultivating detachment
In this framework, “poverty” signifies a mindset of disengagement from physical possessions and earthly pleasures. For instance, a Franciscan friar might find it necessary to operate a vehicle or utilize a computer for his work, yet he understands that he can forgo having the newest iPhone — and he feels content with that.

As I was reading Fratelli Tutti, Pope Francis’ latest encyclical regarding fraternity and social companionship prompted me to maintain an ongoing compilation of quotes that resonated with me. As expected, the more I delved into the text, the more extensive the list became.
Fratelli Tutti is an extensive letter, replete with significant concepts and ideals, and it will require years to fully understand and reflect on the pope’s views, not to mention to implement some of his more ambitious themes. However, this does not imply that the encyclical lacks smaller actions that each of us can incorporate into our everyday lives to foster greater love for one another.

The Catholic Church has historically revered early Christian leaders, theologians, and educators from both the East (Greek) and West (Latin) as Fathers of the Church. In contrast to Doctors of the Church, there exists no formal roster of Church Fathers. Throughout the years, various lists containing numerous similar names have emerged, and depending on the source, there are occasionally more than 100 figures recognized as a Father of the Church.
In the fifth century, St. Vincent of Lerins established criteria related to the identification of a Church Father: to exist during the era referred to as antiquity (spanning from the first to the eighth centuries), lead a virtuous life, adhere to and advocate orthodox Christian doctrines, and obtain recognition from the Church.
When examining the Church Fathers, they are typically classified by the period in which they existed: Apostolic Fathers refer to those who were acquainted with the apostles; the second and third century Fathers (Ante-Nicean) are those who resided prior to the significant Council of Nicea in A.D. 325; Nicea Fathers are those who lived during the Council period; and lastly, Post-Nicea Fathers encompass those from the Council up until the eighth century.
This article explores several of the Greek Church Fathers, highlighting those who exemplify the sanctity, bravery, and insight shared by all the Fathers. These individuals were prepared to face death, and many did, rather than renounce their Savior or His Gospel. They serve as foundational pillars of our Catholic Christian faith, serving as examples for all who identify as disciples of Christ.
D.D. Emmons writes from Pennsylvania.
The Fathers of the Church

St. Clement (30-101)
Residing in the mid-first century, Clement was the third to succeed the throne of St. Peter, the papacy. Scholars have determined that he was acquainted with Peter and Paul; after their martyrdom, he emerged as a Church leader and was later appointed as the pope (r. A.D. 88-97).
Merely a single writing from Pope St. Clement, composed approximately in the year 96, has endured; it is a correspondence directed to the Christians in Corinth. This letter bears resemblance to the epistles that St. Paul sent to those believers and is, in fact, named: Letter to the Corinthians. In his own phrasing, Clement reflects comparable apprehensions that Paul also discussed, issues that had the potential to cause division within the Church and among the Corinthians.
Clement criticized a minor faction in Corinth that had ousted specific elders from the Church. He stated, “Thus, those lacking distinction elevated themselves against the esteemed; the unknown opposed those deserving respect: the ignorant against the knowledgeable; the youth against the elder.” The newcomers were, whether deliberately or not, removing from the Church those who had been designated by St. Paul.
The larger concern was the possible discord that such actions might instigate. Clement championed peace, affection, and reconciliation as instructed by Jesus and reinforced by St. Paul. There are signs that Clement’s epistle was proclaimed in every congregation, highlighting the importance of unity, a unity that, rooted in humility and love, continues to uphold the Church even now.
It is thought that Clement was submerged by Emperor Trajan in the year 101.
St. Ignatius (35-107)
St. Ignatius is said to have been a follower of the Apostle John and was appointed as the second bishop of Antioch following St. Peter. He served in this role for 40 years, disseminating the teachings of Jesus and the apostles. There is limited information regarding his life, but he played a crucial role in unifying the Church during the severe persecutions of the second century under Roman Emperor Domitian. In 107, he was captured by the Romans and sentenced to death for his refusal to offer sacrifices to the emperor or renounce Christ. Detained in Antioch, he was shackled and taken to Rome, where he was destined to be killed by wild animals. During his journey to Rome, he composed seven letters directed to various Christian communities.

Father Robert Nixon, OSB, is a member of the Abbey of The Most Holy Trinity situated in New Norcia, Western Australia. Following a fruitful career as a teacher, musician, and composer, Father Nixon became part of the Benedictine order. He is the translator of the Resurrection Series released by Tan Books.
Our Sunday Visitor: You were raised in a Catholic household. In what ways did your parents and the cultural environment of your family shape your calling?
Father Robert Nixon, OSB: My familial heritage and experience in Catholic educational institutions provided me with a robust grounding in the Catholic faith. I developed a strong comprehension of the Faith from a relatively early age. The Catholic faith has always been a part of me, almost instinctual. Even during periods when I wasn’t particularly focused on a religious life, it has consistently remained a part of my journey.
I believe that’s the essential aspect of the Catholic faith. It’s something that is given to an individual and which shapes their entire perspective on existence. It integrates into our identity, influences our way of living, and affects how we perceive the world.
Our Sunday Visitor: When did you realize that you were called to the priesthood?
Father Nixon: I came to understand that I had a calling to religious life during my early years, around late primary school. I enjoyed spending time in prayer at the church. The Mass captivated me. However, I didn’t immediately follow that calling when I graduated. I harbored a deep love for music and aimed to build a career as a musician.
Father Robert Nixon playing the piano at New Norcia monastery. New Norcia
Our Sunday Visitor: You began your journey in the seminary at the age of 33. In what ways do you believe that your life experiences and professional paths have shaped your priestly vocation?
Father Nixon: It has provided me with a wealth of experience in comprehending others. If someone joined the seminary directly after high school, they wouldn’t have faced these challenges related to finances, employment, relationships, and all the aspects that constitute much of people’s existence. I possess understanding of these matters.

I initially encountered Father William Holt, OP, during my time as a novice. Father Holt had some purpose that required him to stop by St. Gertrude’s, our Dominican novitiate’s residence. (He had likely come “to fly the flag,” a phrase he frequently used.) His stature overshadowed even that of my formidable novice master. Whenever Father Holt was present, everyone found it difficult to contribute to the conversation (apart from him).
He was brimming with clever quips, which he referred to as “Helpful Hints from Holt.” Frequently as insightful as they were audacious, he holds legendary recognition among the young friars who were acquainted with him, largely due to these commonly shared — seldom sought — snippets of clerical counsel.
“Always use your elbows to press the doorbell,” suggested Father Holt. In his opinion, both arms ought to be laden with presents for your host.
“It’s referred to as the economy of salvation, brother,” Father Holt admonished. This signified a Sunday Mass was to be 38 minutes.

Catherine Naja from the suburbs of Pittsburgh began crafting a pocket shrine last autumn, despite her limited background in sewing. She carefully cut the shape of a cross and manually stitched two pieces of fabric together to secure medals and various small religious objects.
Courtesy photo
Her spouse, Imad, chuckled and inquired what she intended to do with it. Did she aim to bring it on their trip? When would they actually require one?
“I was unaware,” she remarked. “Yet I couldn’t shake the thought from my heart. Therefore, I started creating one.”
Finishing it turned into a small gift during Lent when church entrances were shut, she remarked. Moreover, the pocket shrine will persist as a component of her family’s devotional life to help them navigate the ongoing shelter-in-place adjustments that have affected the globe.
“I’ve always had an appreciation for Catholic antiques, and I’ve encountered these pocket shrines a few times,” Naja shared, whose family worships at St. Bernard Church in Mt. Lebanon, Pennsylvania. “The concept of individuals carrying them fascinates me.”

By all impartial assessments, Holy Family Cathedral School in Tulsa, Oklahoma, similar to numerous other Catholic parochial institutions across the country, was struggling significantly. Enrollment had decreased by 77%, resulting in only 88 students registered in 2019. Projected patterns and increasing financial deficits compelled administrators and diocesan authorities to seriously contemplate the closure of its oldest and most renowned institution (the school was established by none other than St. Katharine Drexel in 1899). In a final attempt to rejuvenate the school, the diocese opted to transform the institution into a “classical” one. A new headmaster was appointed, the staff was swiftly trained, a classical educational program was introduced, and in the autumn of 2020, Holy Family Cathedral School reemerged as Holy Family Classical School.

Exceeding all plausible anticipations, the transformation led to exponential growth of the school and a revitalized enthusiasm within the parish. In just three years, the enrollment at Holy Family Classical School has tripled. The demographics of the parish community shifted quickly due to an influx of families with numerous school-aged children. The school now faces increasing waitlists for nearly all grades, and a high school curriculum has been introduced to satisfy parental requests. At present, the parish and school are exploring innovative approaches to address the escalating needs of a flourishing and expanding community eager for a more traditional framework of ecclesial life and formation.

This phenomenon is not exclusive to Holy Family or Tulsa. Comparable outcomes have been observed in dioceses across the country. Since 2020, more than 200 new Catholic “classical” schools have been founded in the United States, along with a 78% rise in enrollment in existing classical academies. Regardless of whether they are diocesan-run, independent, online, or traditional brick-and-mortar, there has undeniably been a wave of enthusiasm for Catholic classical education. education.

Adobe Stock

For the attentive and curious Catholic, this increase in alternative education prompts two fundamental and intriguing inquiries: (1) what precisely constitutes a Catholic classical education, and in what ways does it set itself apart from different current frameworks, both secular and parochial? And (2) what is drawing so many contemporary Catholic parents to the classical approach? In addressing these queries, I aim to shed light on the achievements of Holy Family and the visible revival of classical education taking place in the Diocese of Tulsa and numerous locations throughout the U.S.

Catholic traditional education

The goal and objective of all education, whether it be classical, secular, or religious, is twofold: the pursuit of truth and the development of culture. Whether we consider the Lyceum of ancient Greece or a local vocational school in Cleveland, they all aim to impart some form of knowledge to their students and introduce them to a communal existence. While every educational institution shares this overarching dual purpose, they vary — often significantly — based on the specific outcome the institution prioritizes and how it interprets and seeks these outcomes. For instance, the finishing schools of the early 20th century, like the Swiss Château Mont-Choisi or the Finch College in the U.S., highlighted the significance of communal living and trained their students in a distinctive manner of conduct that was appropriate for a young woman of that period. Likewise, institutions — such as many contemporary virtual academies — opt to focus on the pursuit of knowledge and, by their very nature, offer minimal cultural formation. Furthermore, there are schools that possess a very narrow or specific interpretation of the truth being sought, like MIT, which concentrates on cutting-edge technologies, or your local welding institute, which instructs students in the craft of shaping and joining metals.

Bishop Robert J. Brennan of Brooklyn, N.Y., reads “The Little Engine That Could” to pre-kindergarteners during his Catholic Schools Week visit to Divine Mercy Catholic Academy in the Ozone Park section of Queens, N.Y., in 2023. (OSV News photo/Gregory A. Shemitz)

What sets Catholic classical education apart is not its position outside the educational dichotomy but its bold intention to shape students in the entirety of truth and to introduce them to the vast scope of Western civilization.

Conveying the complete reality

Rather than aiming for a specific or concentrated delivery of knowledge within a certain field or discipline with a particular practical objective, Catholic classical schools strive for the pursuit of truth for truth’s own sake. Their primary concern is not solely on equipping students with knowledge to ready them for the workforce (even though it accomplishes this effectively), but instead emphasizes the importance of immersing them in the vast array of knowledge accessible to humanity.

Jay Boren, principal of St. Benedict Classical Academy since 2015, views the development of wisdom and virtue in seeking truth and alignment with Christ as the ultimate aim of Catholic classical education. He recently conversed with OSV News’ Charlie Camosy about returning to the essence of Catholic education and whether Catholic education is undergoing a “renaissance” period following a notable rise in enrollment in Catholic schools in 2023.

Charlie Camosy: A considerable number of people have certainly come across the idea of classical Catholic education more frequently in recent times — yet they might not fully grasp what it actually entails or what it signifies. Therefore, let’s begin at the outset: What is classical Catholic education? It encompasses something much more fundamental than simply studying Latin and engaging with “The Odyssey,” correct?

Jay Boren: Traditional Catholic education focuses less on studying Latin and exploring “The Odyssey” and more on returning to what people in the classical and medieval eras believed was the genuine aim of education — namely, the development of wisdom and virtue, and the transformation of our minds and hearts toward what is true, good, and beautiful.

As Catholics, we hold that this journey of transformation aligns us with Christ and guides us toward God. In other words, a classical Catholic education assists us in achieving the purpose for which we were created — to recognize, cherish, and serve God.

Classical Catholic education aims to regain a link to this conventional view of the purpose of education. We certainly believe that engaging with classic literature and acquiring Latin skills is essential, but this is solely because they link us to the insights of our heritage.

We desire our students to understand what is true, good, and beautiful, yet it would be extremely arrogant to assume that we determine what qualifies as “truth.” To uncover that, we ought to respectfully revisit our heritage — to what has endured over time, as well as to the insights and examples provided by the greatest intellects and most virtuous individuals throughout history regarding these concepts.

Saints Spirituality Exploring the Church’s modern martyrs A man carries an image of St. Oscar Romero during a March 18, 2018, procession in San Salvador, El Salvador, to commemorate the anniversary of his murder. In October 2018, Pope Francis canonized St. Oscar, who was shot and killed March 24, 1980, as he celebrated Mass. CNS…

A seasoned exorcist is reacting to a recent piece in Cosmopolitan magazine and a social media update describing a “satanic abortion ritual.”

“In past times, individuals who engaged in malevolent acts stayed in the darkness and concealed themselves,” Msgr. Stephen Rossetti, research associate professor of practice at the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., informed Our Sunday Visitor. “Currently, our society has become so disordered that malevolence operates openly and is accepted, even tolerated. Someone must declare: ‘The Emperor has no clothes.’”

Msgr. Rossetti, who additionally heads the St. Michael Center For Spiritual Renewal, a charitable organization that prays alongside individuals undergoing spiritual anguish and seeking healing and liberation, has acted as an exorcist for the Archdiocese of Washington for over 15 years. The accredited psychologist has authored multiple books, including “Diary of an American Exorcist: Demons, Possession, and the Modern-Day Battle Against Ancient Evil.”

As a principal of a Catholic school, potential families frequently inquire about the school’s Catholic character. My first response typically involves highlighting the unique Catholic traditions we participate in — such as weekly Mass, frequent confessions, school-wide Rosaries, Eucharistic processions, and more. Furthermore, experiencing the sacraments and interacting with the Faith through these concrete practices should be standard elements of a genuine Catholic education. Ultimately, these aspects are vital, not only for establishing and enhancing the school’s Catholic identity, but, even more significantly, for nurturing the hearts, minds, and souls of our students.
Nonetheless, as Brett Salkeld accurately points out in his latest publication, “Educating for Eternity: A Teacher’s Companion for Making Every Class Catholic” (OSV, $12.95), these physical expressions of a school’s Catholic identity should not be the sole method by which a Catholic institution fulfills its mission. As articulated by Salkeld, the essence of a Catholic education lies in “the manner in which a Catholic perspective shapes academic teaching across every subject area.”
At first look, this might appear to imply that by simply “adding in” some Catholic elements into each subject area — referencing a handful of Catholic scientists in chemistry or delivering a lesson on Catholic historical figures in social studies — the institution will become more genuinely Catholic; however, Salkeld is quick to reject this superficial strategy. Rather, he urges Catholic educators to strive for a significantly higher standard. “We need to impart not just Catholic content,” he asserts, “but teach from a Catholic context that makes sense of all life and learning.” In other words, schools that genuinely fulfill their Catholic mission approach all aspects of education from a distinctly Christian anthropology, “founded on the belief that individuals belong to God.”
Christian anthropology
Building on this foundation, Salkeld proceeds to use Part I of “Educating for Eternity” to delineate the key principles of this Christian anthropology as they pertain to the Catholic classroom. In particular, Salkeld explores what it signifies to “educate the whole person” within the context of a Catholic school. Although this phrase may have become so frequently utilized that it has perhaps diluted its significance, Salkeld effectively clarifies what “educating the whole person” genuinely involves. In contrast to the utilitarian mindset prevalent in secular institutions, Catholic schools aim to nurture the entire individual by intentionally guiding students in their ongoing pursuit of joy and their search for truth — two ideas that are intricately connected.

Question: I have a friend who identifies as Christian, but not Catholic, and holds a view of the Eucharist as symbolic rather than as the actual body and blood of Our Lord. She inquires about how we are able to consume the genuine body and blood of Christ, questioning whether that wouldn’t be considered cannibalism. I’m unsure how to respond to that. Could you clarify?
— Name, location withheld
Answer: In cannibalism, specific individuals murder another person and subsequently consume the deceased’s flesh. This act is both lethal and detestable. However, the Eucharist bears no resemblance to this. To begin with, we are not partaking of the deceased flesh of a lifeless individual. We are accepting the living Christ, fully present—body, blood, soul, and divinity. Moreover, this living and exalted Lord voluntarily presents himself to us. He proclaimed: “No one takes my life from me. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again” (Jn 10:18). Our reception of him does not cause him any harm. Therefore, there is absolutely no connection to cannibalism. It is accurate that we share in the body and blood of the Lord, but we must remember that he is exalted. He cannot be killed, dismembered, roasted, or consumed.

My spouse and I have created a weekend tradition. On Saturday afternoon, whether we’re tidying up, tending to the garden, or transporting a child to their destination, one of us will glance at the other and remind, “We must not forget about adoration tonight.” Up to this point, we have not.
It has been nearly six months since we began attending Eucharistic adoration every Saturday night from 10-11 p.m. We affectionately refer to it as “date night.” Typically, we anticipate the time spent together after a hectic week. As parents of six, we truly cherish the hour of tranquility.
Recently, though, my wife was unwell, so I attended by myself. Another pair is booked for the hour preceding ours, and after they departed, I knelt alone in the grand, lovely adoration chapel in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, eagerly anticipating an entire hour to myself. Gazing at Christ in the monstrance, I recited the Rosary and contemplated the significant events of his early life on earth that are described in the Joyful Mysteries.

Was Christmas originally a pagan celebration? History elucidates misconceptions and critiques to uncover the reality surrounding Christmas.

Our Sunday Visitor recently enjoyed the opportunity to converse with Mike Rowe, the famous creator and presenter of “Dirty Jobs” and ex-QVC host. Mike is getting ready for the debut of “Something to Stand For,” a new film that focuses on patriotism that arrives in theaters June 27. “A blend of intrigue and historical elements,” the original film showcases a series of narratives that emphasize the essence of American independence. In this discussion, Mike shares insights into the motivation for his movie, the significance of storytelling in engaging with viewers, and his perspectives on the function of gratitude in society.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Our Sunday Visitor: How much of the dimming of patriotism that we’re seeing is because people don’t have that get-out-there spirit you seek to encourage in “Dirty Jobs”? In this new film, are you intentionally looking to inspire people to go out, have conversations and discover our history?

Mike Rowe: The straightforward response is yes, but that doesn’t encompass the full picture. The reality is, I’ve discovered over time that possessing a message and a mission holds significance. However, in this world and medium, you lack the liberty to simply present your message as if an audience is eager to listen. Most individuals aren’t interested in a lecture; they don’t want a sermon. You must share a narrative. If you can’t engage a crowd, you will never motivate them or uplift them. While those aspects are essential, they ultimately take a backseat to the narratives themselves.

They make an interesting trio, Peter, Thomas, and Judas. Three of the original disciples who share similarities in certain aspects and differ in other respects.
Their existences are vastly distinct from ours, nearly 2,000 years later. Yet their behaviors and decisions are not so unlike ours today. This is why it’s beneficial to recognize and keep in mind that a part of each of them resides within each of us. And Lent, without a doubt, is an excellent opportunity to reflect on this.
Peter, the stone that fractured
At certain moments, similar to St. Peter, we may be the ones declaring without any hesitation in our hearts: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (Mt 16:16). Maybe not in exactly this (or that) phrasing, but through countless, countless deeds.
The moments we guide others to Jesus through the way we conduct our lives. The occasions when the Father, Son, or Holy Spirit presents us with a new calling, a transformation in our lives, an unexpected divergence in our journey, or a demanding invitation as time progresses. And we, in various ways, “cast aside our nets” and pursue.
However, similar to us, Peter had his flaws. Peter required some instruction, some adjustments, and some grappling with significant mistakes. We are aware that he went through that. Indeed, he was the “rock” selected to guide the early Church, but he was also ….
The arrogant (if you’ll allow the pun) disciple who was entirely convinced he would never — never! — disown Jesus. This was during the Last Supper. Then, just a few hours afterward, he did exactly that, three times. We all know the specifics. Most of us might learn them during childhood or adolescence. Likewise, the Resurrected Christ’s three inquiries to Peter in person: “Do you love me?” (Jn 21 15-17).