Thanksgiving, 2025

Today, all people throughout the United States and most American citizens in foreign lands pause, on what is arguably our last remaining national religious holiday, to give thanks for the blessings we have received as a nation and as individuals.

       The Christian and indeed all people of faith, give praise and thanks to Almighty God.

       (To whom all other people of goodwill give thanks is known only to themselves.)

Many of us are familiar with the commonly held story of the origins of the “First Thanksgiving.” 

Fewer are aware that such celebrations did not become a national holiday until 1863 by executive proclamation by President Abraham Lincoln, with a plea for the restoration of unity for a country in the midst of a brutal civil war. 

Even fewer are aware that this proclamation was the culmination of efforts of a single person, Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale.  Born in New Hampsire in 1788, to a Revolutionary War veteran, she received her education at home, as such opportunities were not available to women at that time.  Nevertheless, in time she became a noted poet, author, and editor of the most widely circulated magazine in America. She is the one who penned the nursery rhyme, “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” 

Now I shall quote from the source of all knowledge, Wikipedia. 

“Hale may be the individual most responsible for making Thanksgiving a national holiday in the United States; it had previously been celebrated mostly in New England. Each state scheduled its own holiday, some as early as October and others as late as January; it was largely unknown in the American South. Her advocacy for the national holiday began in 1846 and lasted 17 years before it was successful.

In support of the proposed national holiday, Hale wrote presidents Zachary Taylor, Millard Fillmore, Franklin Pierce, James Buchanan, and Abraham Lincoln. Her initial letters failed to persuade, but the letter she wrote to Lincoln convinced him to support legislation establishing a national holiday of Thanksgiving in 1863. The new national holiday was considered a unifying day after the stress of the Civil War. Before Thanksgiving’s addition, the only national holidays celebrated in the United States were Washington’s Birthday and Independence Day.

Hale’s efforts earned her the nickname “Mother of Thanksgiving”.  Smithsonian Institution National Museum of American History curator of food history, Paula J. Johnson, claims that Hale was “key in bringing together and popularizing the Thanksgiving holiday with the menu featuring turkey and stuffing”.

In her novel Northwood: Or, a Tale of New England, Hale devotes an entire chapter to describing the many dishes of Thanksgiving—roasted turkey, gravy and savory stuffing, chicken pie, pumpkin pie, pickles, cakes and preserves—and to drink ginger beer, currant wine and cider.”

If Sarah Hale’s efforts show us anything, it is that we should never underestimate the lasting effects that one person can have for the benefit of others.

Ten were healed, yet only one came back to give thanks. That is the one we remember.

The one who was healed tells us that Ms. Hale’s efforts are well founded. What nation, what Church worthy of the name, what family, what individual can long stand without gratitude? 

The grateful heart cannot be jealous, but rejoices in the gifts of those who surround it.

The grateful family cannot be withdrawn, but celebrates with others its joys and comforts others in their trials. 

The grateful parish cannot be isolated, but gives back to God and its neighborhood so much that those around it cannot imagine life without  them.

The grateful nation cannot forget God.

Philemon’s Dilemma

Homily – 23SundayC, Philemon’s Dilemma

   Whatever your musical tastes, country music has a lot of practical wisdom. Brad Paisley described it as “Four chords and the truth!”  For your edification, here is short list of real titles of real country music songs.

Real Country Music Titles:

  • Drop Kick Me, Jesus, Through The Goalposts Of Life
  • My John Deere Was Breaking Your Field, While Your Dear John Was Breaking My Heart
  • I Changed Her Oil, She Changed My Life
  • How Can I Miss you if you won’t go away?
  • I’m So Miserable Without You It’s Like Having You Here
  • The Last Word in Lonesome is “me”
  • The Worst You Ever Gave Me Was the Best I Ever Had
  • If the Phone Doesn’t Ring, It’s Me.
  • I Been Roped and Thrown By Jesus In The Holy Ghost Corral

   The late, great Toby Keith wrote one entitled, “Wish I Didn’t Know Now (What I didn’t Know Then.)”

   I imagine that is what Philemon was thinking when he opened that letter from St. Paul, probably carried to him the same Onesimus mentioned therein. So, what is Philemon’s problem?

   Well, it’s a doozy. Philemon is a wealthy Greek, probably from the Church in Collosae, who came to the Catholic Faith and was baptized by Paul. Onesimus was his slave…his runaway slave who found his way to Paul and spent a fair amount of time helping him during his imprisonment. Now Paul is sending him back to Philemon asking that he not be received as a runaway slave, but as a brother in Christ. Philemon has a dilemma.  Does he do as Paul asks?  If he does, then does that mean he will have free all his other slaves who have been baptized?  What about the ones who have not yet been baptized. If they come to faith does that mean an automatic ticket to freedom?  If they ask for baptism can he refuse them?  What are the implications if he does not do as Paul asks and puts the slave’s collar back on Onesimus?  Who knew that being a Christian would be so hard? How difficult it is to be an intentional disciple of Jesus! 

   It’s not like he didn’t have fair warning. Jesus said as much in our gospel passage this week from Luke. He does not sugar coat it. Being a disciple of Jesus demands a complete change of mind and heart.

   It’s a good lesson for us. Being a disciple of Jesus has never been about fitting comfortably and anonymously into an increasing secular society. It is about standing in the truth in love.  This may manifest itself at work, at school, on the community council, in the doctor’s office, in the ballot box, and any other number of places. 

   Scripture does not say what Philemon did after he received the letter. Perhaps he did as Paul asked.  Perhaps he did not. Regardless, the early Church has passed this letter on to us to help us in our discernment in our own journey of faith. May we have the grace to respond as Christ would have us do.  It has never been easy, but it is always worth it. 

What Matters to God

   For a number of years, our family had a dairy farm in western Washington about100 miles south of Seattle. As a “gentleman farmer” my dad used to have a T-shirt that said, “A big barn and a plump wife never did any man harm.”  

   Big barns are pretty cool.  It’s amazing how some of them were built in the early 20th century. Not only are they incredibly functional, they are truly works of art. And by and large a big barn never did a man harm.

   So what’s the deal then with the parable of the man who had the bountiful harvest and built himself some big barns to put it in. Why is he called a fool?

   It’s pretty simple really. There is nothing wrong with a bountiful harvest or a big barn to put it in. Where gentleman farmer in the parable went wrong is that he saw his wealth as an end unto itself. He put his trust in the things of this world and forgot that our true destiny of communion with God transcends anything this world has to offer.

   Wealth in and of itself is neither good nor bad. It simply gives you more options. But as our misguided farmer found out, at the end of the day we really don’t own anything. It is all a gift given to us to use for the time that we are on this earth. We are stewards, not owners.

   They say you spend the first third of your life wanting stuff, the second third accumulating stuff and the last third trying to get rid of stuff. Having just turned 60, I’m finding that there is a lot of truth to this. The goal at this stage is to shed as much stuff as practical and to grow rich in what matters to God.

   So what matters to God? 

   Well, if we pay attention to Our Lord in the today’s gospel, its not the stuff we’ll leave behind, but the relationships with God and others that really matter. We don’t take any of the stuff with us, but we do take our relationships. For us Catholics that relationship is characterized by full communion with Christ and his Church – union at the very level of being.  Who I am, united with who God is and who you are. It is these relationships that we call full communion that we carry with us into eternity.

That is what matters to God.

Persistence in Prayer

One of the most maligned folks in American history is Calvin Coolidge, the nation’s 30th president who served the White House from 1923 to 1929.  He had the unfortunate distinction of being in office at the outset of the Great Depression. He was a quiet man. His nicknames were: Cautious Cal, Cool Cal, Silent Cal, and the Sphinx of the Potomac.

Not many know much about President Coolidge today. But if you Google him, the first 49,000 citations will mention this one quotation he gave in a speech in 1929. He said: “Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan Press On! has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.”

     Mr. Coolidge was right. Why does Jesus ask us to be so persistent in prayer? Our prayer certainly does not change God’s mind.  God already knows what we need long before we ask. Parents are the best examples of this and can give us some insight. Mom or Dad could easily give us what we need without our asking, but would we really appreciate it? Probably not. How delightful it is to a parent when a child comes to their own realization of what is best and then asks the favor.

    Three and a half millennia of human experience have shown that persistence in prayer has profound effects upon the one doing the praying. God does not change as a result of prayer. We do. Persistence in prayer allows us to discern God’s ultimate desire for us and to make that desire our own.

 Time is an ingredient. A monk much wiser than me once said,

“I have found that so much of prayer is simply waiting on God; and I have learned that if I am willing to wait long enough, insight always comes.”

Timing is everything, and God’s timing always so much better than our own. Persistence in prayer allows us to move from praying, “MY will be done.” to “THY will be done.” 

As we spend more time in prayer we begin to realize that God has three ways of answering prayer. 1) “Yes.” 2) “Not yet.” and 3) “I have something better in mind for you.” 

       Okay great.  How?

It’s not that hard.  You need to find a time and a place.  Take some time each day to unplug from the distractions of this world. Find a quiet place and spend some time with the Lord. Decide on a time each day that will work for you. You may have to tweak this a bit. And this may change depending on your situation.

At one parish my prayer time happened at 9:00 at night. Here at St. Elizabeth’s, it works out best at 7:00 in the morning.

You may need to adjust this time, you may need to fight for this time, but you need to make time.  I’ll say it again, if you cannot find at least ten minutes a day for private prayer with Our Lord, your life is out of control and you need to make adjustments.  No excuses.

Second, find a place.

       Create a space in the home.

       Or change your routine to bring you to a holy place.  

       I love this one quotation that is popping up on the door in many churches in France.  In four short sentences it says: 

       It is possible that on entering this church, you may hear the Call of God.    

       On the other hand, it is not likely that he will contact you by phone. Thank you for turning it off.   

       If you would like to talk to God, come in, choose a quiet place, and talk to him.  

       If you would like to see him, send him a text while driving.

Get creative. I love to tell the story of the fellow at St. Benedict’s who had two issues. First, because of his weird work schedule, he couldn’t find his ten minutes and he kept bringing the stress of his work home with him.

       As we chatted, the Holy Spirit kicked in and I asked him, “You live right down the street from the parish, right?

Why don’t you just pull your truck in and park in front of that big crucifix in front of the church on your way home?”

       You know, he did.

       About a month later he was in my office again and said, “You know, Father, that ten minutes has made all the difference.  I don’t even get out of my truck. I just do my Magnificat right there.  And I’ve also found that I can just leave all of the stresses and burdens of the day right there at the foot of the Cross. I suppose I could pick them back up again, but I’ve never seen the need.”

Make time. Create or find a place. Be persistent.  It may not change God, but it will certainly have a profound effect on you.

Let me end by paraphrasing Mr. Coolidge.  

“Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence in prayer. Vocation will not; nothing is more common than unfulfilled vocations. Cleverness will not; you cannot outmaneuver God. Erudition will not; the world is full of theological derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan Pray On! has opened and always will open the door of grace in the human heart.”

Ask Fr. Leo – Why does the priest wash his hands at the Offertory?

Hey, Church fans! No time to post the homily this week. You can get the gist in the bulletin at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton’s website by clicking here: https://www.akseas.net. This week you get my latest column in the North Star Catholic. Enjoy.


Dear Fr. Leo:

     Why does the priest wash his hands during the offertory of the Mass?  Is it a remembrance of Pontius Pilate washing his hands in front of the crowd?  – M

Dear M,

     At first glance it would look like it, but it really doesn’t have anything to do with Pontius Pilate at all. It does have a lot to do with the early liturgies of Church. The offertory is a very important part of the Mass. Let’s put it into the larger context so you can see where washing of the celebrant’s hands comes in. 

     Holy Mass is both a true sacrifice and a shared, ritual meal. In the Old Testament, if you were going to offer sacrifice, you need four things: An altar, a priest, an offering or victim, and a reason.

     The ritual varied a little based on the reason for sacrifice, but typically it began when you brought your offering before the priest, i.e., the first fruits of your harvest or of your flock. It had to be unblemished because you always offered God your first and your best. You couldn’t just offer the heifer with the broken leg because you were going to get rid of it anyway. Once the priest laid hands on the victim, it was dedicated to God and could not be used for any other reason.  The animal was then slaughtered and its blood was poured out or sprinkled on the altar in the proscribed manner. The front left quarter was given to the priest for his payment. Certain other parts were placed upon the live coals on the altar to be burnt as an offering pleasing to God. Then you took the rest home and held a big party or sacrificial banquet. Thus, sacrifice and sacred eating are inseparable.  You never have the sacrifice without the meal and you never have the meal without the sacrifice. 

     There were four main reasons for offering a sacrifice.  There were sacrifices to give thanks, sacrifices to established covenants, sacrifices to forgive sins, and sacrifices to remember. The Church has always held that all previous sacrifices of all types were completed and perfected in the one, perfect sacrifice of Christ on the Cross. The Mass is our real participation in that one, perfect sacrifice. This is reflected in the words of institution, especially over the cup where we hear the priest say,

     “At the end of the meal, he took the cup, and once more giving you thanks, he gave it to his disciples, saying,

     ‘Take this all of you and drink from it.

This is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and eternal covenant.

It will be shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.

Do this in memory of me.”

     Four gifts are offered at the Mass in the Offertory.  The bread, the wine, our gifts of treasure, and ourselves. That’s why they are brought up by members of the congregation and presented to the celebrant.  Just like in sacrifices of old, whatever is offered is immolated and changed. But now instead of being burned and sent up as smoke, the bread and wine become the body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ, the gifts of treasure become heat, light, salaries for parish staff and all the things that go into the life of the parish, and finally we offer ourselves that we might be transformed by the grace that we receive at the Altar and in the midst of the Sacred Assembly.

     These days, the collection is a pretty sanitary process. Depending on the parish you are at, you either plop your envelope or online giving chit in the basket at the foot of the altar or in the collection basket as it comes by. Not so in the days of yore. People would bring what they had, vegetables, grains, chickens, even lambs. After receiving the gifts of the people, the celebrant’s hands were pretty grimy. So, before handling the sacred vessels, he would clean himself up. 

     As time went on, society moved from an agrarian, barter system to a monetary system.  Eventually, the washing of the celebrant’s became part of the private spiritual purification rite of the celebrant before the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  It is accompanied by beautiful little prayers.  First, he prays on behalf of the people, “Lord, we ask you to receive us, be pleased with the sacrifice we offer you with humble and contrite hearts.”  Then, while his hands are washed he says, “Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquities and cleanse me of my sins.” 

     Grace builds on nature. Like many things in the sacred liturgy, the washing of the celebrant’s hands, or the “Lavabo” as it is known, has a very practical origin that has taken on a very spiritual meaning. Hopefully, our own lives can be a reflection of the same. 

Good Neighbors

The world is a bit less friendly than it used to be. I remember years past when it was no big deal to pick up a hitchhiker on the Kenai Peninsula or on the Alcan Highway. Even around town it was no big deal to give a couple of ski bums a ride to Girdwood on a Saturday morning. And you always stopped to help someone broke down on the side of the road. It was just something we did without thinking. Times have changed, I guess. People are much more cautious these days.  

It doesn’t appear that things have changed all that much in 2000 years. I like the story of the Good Samaritan we hear in Luke’s gospel this week, but I always sort of wince when I read about the priest and the Levite passing on the other side of the street. What’s up with that?  It grates against our wholesome Alaskan ethos.

Biblical scholars help us understand a little bit about what was going on when they explain that both were probably on pilgrimage and on their way up to Jerusalem to worship in the Temple. Apparently, if they had stopped to help the man and (God forbid) actually touch him, they would have incurred a ritual impurity and thus been unable to enter the Temple area.

Okay.  Fine.  So what?

That is exactly Jesus’s point. It doesn’t matter if they were on their way to worship. There was a brother Jew in need, bleeding on the side of the road. The obligation of charity trumps the obligation of the law every time. 

There are several different kinds of law that we need to keep in mind. In order of priority, they are: 1) Divine Law, 2) Natural Law, 3) Human Positive Law, and 4) Custom. 

These are at play even in the life of the Church, but there is a priority even within each category. Keeping holy the sabbath is indeed Divine Law, given to us in the Second Commandment and should not be taken lightly. Nevertheless, if the parable of the Good Samaritan teaches us anything, it is that love of God and love of neighbor are inseparable. One cannot render authentic worship to God after having passed by a person in need. The scholar of the Law, gained this insight at the feet of Christ. We hear it again in our sacred assembly. 

May we have the grace to go and do likewise.

Credible Witnesses

Hello, Church fans! As many of you know, I am now at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish on Huffman Road on the hillside here in Anchorage. So far, so good. Here is the gist of the homily this weekend.


Transition can be a crazy time and always involves a lot of mixed emotions. The last thing this parish needs is any kind of change.  So, we are going to take things easy for a while, get our emotional and spiritual feet underneath us, and maybe have a little fun in the process. Cause if you think about it, when it comes to church, if you are not having fun, you are doing it wrong.

Take moving for example, right now, I am in the midst of unpacking all my stuff in the parish house. The garage is full of hunting gear, pilot gear, an antique bedroom set, some exercise equipment, and a couple of freezers full of moose and deer and fish and whatnot.  And then there are the boxes…so many boxes…

       But let me share you a moving hack that I learned about three parishes ago. As you look at that big pile of half-labeled boxes of all your belongings. Get yourself a little Christmas tree and put it in the middle. Then start playing Christmas music.  As you open each box, exclaim with delight, “Oh look!  Towels and washcloths!  How thoughtful!  These will be perfect for the bathroom!” Or, “what a lovely lamp! This will go perfect in the living room!”  It’s a nice way of reminding ourselves that we really don’t own anything.  Everything is a gift. You’re gonna leave I tal behind anyway.  Think about it.  You never see a hearse with a U-Haul behind it.

   Many of you may remember Fr. Justin Dzickowicz, OSB, the mad monk from New Jersey who served here briefly at St. Elizabeth’s in the early 2000’s. While he was in Alaska, he and I formed a deep friendship that lasts to this day. While I was pastor of St. Andrew’s he would come and visit for several weeks at a time, usually during the summer.  When he wasn’t doing that, he was serving as a missionary chaplain to a convent of Benedictine sisters in Namibia. One day, he was getting ready to head directly from Alaska to Namibia. Preparing for such a trip was a significant effort and soon the living room floor was covered with boxes of supplies and baggage. As he packed yet another box, muttering all the while to himself, he looked up and noticed me observing him quietly. “What?!” he said in exasperation.  I simply replied with Our Lord’s words from today’s gospel reading:

Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals;

and greet no one along the way…

“Oh, shut up!” he roared as I fled from the room. 

   But really, why did Jesus send the 72 out in such a way?  It helps to remember that in those days, much like the televangelists today, there were rabbis who were making a pretty good living by developing a following and building a little empire. By sending his disciples out thus, Jesus is making a very clear point that the Kingdom he proclaims transcends this material world. He sends his disciples as mendicants, dependent totally on the providence of God and the charity of those who will hear His message of salvation. In doing so, he ensures that they will be credible witnesses of the Good News.

   It’s a good reminder to us. A good reflection in our daily examen at the end of the day (you ARE doing a daily examen, yes?) is to ask, “As an intentional disciple of Jesus, like the 72, have I been a credible witness of the Gospel today?  Have I proclaimed the Kingdom in simple or even profound ways? Or, have I let the “stuff” of this world get in the way and dictate how I treat others? If so, what do I need to cast off so that I am a credible witness and a herald of Christ to the people and places that God sends me each day?

   It’s important that we make the most of every opportunity. Like the 72, Christ has sent you to this part of the world to herald his coming. And always remember, this coming week, you may be the only Gospel another person will ever hear. 

Really Jesus

     It’s disheartening how many Catholics are confused about the true and substantial presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, in the last 50 years. Blame it on poor catechesis, a lack of good preaching, or whatever. Turns out things were not all that different in the middle of the 13th century. It took the vision of St Juliana of Cornillon and the Eucharistic miracle at Bolsena, Italy, in 1263 where the precious blood spilled out of the consecrated host and onto the corporal and altar cloth, to get folks’ attention. Pope Urban IV was so moved by the miracle, that he had the bloodied corporal moved to the cathedral in Orvieto where it resides today. (I’ve actually seen it. It’s pretty cool.) The following year Pope Urban  proclaimed the universal celebration of the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Our Lord, commonly known by its Latin name of Corpus Christi

Throughout the years, the Church has come up with various ways to try to describe this great mystery of our faith in the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Eventually, the best we could come up with was to use Greek philosophical categories to at least attempt to describe a little of what was going on. Briefly put, all things are made up of their substance and their attributes. The substance of a person or thing is its essence, its identity—what or who it is in and of itself. The attributes are what it looks like. Take yourself for example. You have always been you. Your identity has not changed. But your attributes have. As you aged, you got  taller, more trim and better looking! Your substance is the same, but your attributes have changed.

In the Eucharist, the process is the opposite. The attributes remain the same. It still looks and tastes like bread and wine.  However, the substance, the essence, the identity of the bread and wine is changed into the body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ.

Why? Well, quite frankly, because Jesus said so. Like the resurrection, the mechanics of this mystery escape us. Furthermore, we have to be careful not to get too bogged down in the details of sacramental analysis.  We can try to understand certain aspects, and use, quite rightly, the term “trans-substantiation,” but even as we do so, we realize that we are only talking about one tiny aspect of the immensity of the reality that is the Eucharist. When we understand that all that Christ is, is truly present to all that we are; that there is nothing that separates us from the love of God in a holy communion at the very essence of who we are, it is truly astounding.

Trinity Sunday – Good Doctrine Leads to Good Behavior

We don’t argue about doctrine these days. Sometimes I wish we did. Why?  Because bad theology leads to bad behavior.

Sincerity is no arbiter of truth. You can be very sincere in your convictions and very, very wrong. Think about it. Every super villain in the Marvel universe is convinced that he or she is justified in their evil actions by a just cause. Thanos wanted people to thrive, but he didn’t think there was enough resources to go around. His solution was to randomly eliminate half the sentient beings in the universe.

Such a thought process can be sneaky. When it first came out, I thought the WWJD fad was kind of neat. When faced with a moral question, why not ask, “What would Jesus do?” The problem is that the vast majority of people wearing WWJD bracelets never really bothered to find out who Jesus actually is and what Jesus actually did. The result is that all too often WWJD became a way to justify bad behavior by recreating Jesus in one’s own image to fit one’s own preferences.  Bad theology leads to bad behavior.

The early Church had a deep appreciation for the need to articulate the Faith in a way that reflected, as best as humanly possible, the divine realities what were revealed to us. 

So it was that 1700 years ago, in 325 that the first Ecumenical Council met at Nicaea to come up with a way to suitably articulate the nature of Christ. Simply put, the controversy was this.  We Christians say that “Jesus is Lord!”  But how do we say that Jesus is Lord? One group, led by Arias, overemphasizing the transcendence of God, said that Jesus was the first of God’s creation and leads us to the Father. Thus, Christ was not to be worshipped.  This did not sit well with Arias’s bishop, Alexander, who rightly upheld the divinity of Jesus. The controversy spilled out into the whole Church. Apparently there were even a few bar fights about the divinity of Christ in the streets of Alexandria. So, the Emperor Constantine, who had recently legalized the Church, called the bishops to his summer palace in Nicaea to work it out. It was at this first ecumenical council that the bulk of the statement of faith we now know as the Nicaean Creed was pounded out. One of the canons of the Council of Nicaea was that the creed it produced would be recited at every Mass throughout the world for all time. That is why we recite the Nicaean Creed every Sunday.

On this Trinity Sunday, we should take time to really pay attention. When we understand the Creed, we understand what it means to say that Jesus is Lord. Good doctrine leads to good behavior. I don’t recommend getting into any bar fights, but I do pray it helps us to be more charitable and credible witnesses of the Gospel.

Pentecost, 2025 – The Power of Relationship

The Power of Relationship

      Think of your best friend, soulmate, BFF, bestie, or whoever you consider the one who knows you better than anyone. Now think of the quality of that relationship. How did it start? How did it develop. Were there any particular moments, trials, achievements, that took it to the next level? When you describe the relationship itself, what words do you use? How do you explain such a relationship? At a certain point, words will fail, but you can at least describe such a relationship gives you life. 

       In a nutshell, this is exactly what the Church does when we try to describe the Holy Spirit. Words will ultimately fail, but that does not mean we should not try.

       The key to pondering the reality of the Holy Spirit is to understand that we are talking about relationship. Specifically, we are referring to the relationship between the Father and the Son. Like all loving relationships, such as the one between a husband and wife, it includes the two principle parties; but like a good marriage, such a love cannot be contained to just those two. This is manifested in several ways.

       Love by its very nature is creative and life-giving. For example, in the total self-giving spiritual and physical union of husband and wife, body and soul, we are talking about love so intense in its expression that nine months later you may have to give it a name! Such a love literally begets a life of its own. In a similar, but perfect and eternal way, all creation including you and me is begotten of the loving,  creative love between the Father and the Son. 

       This power of the love of God we  call the Holy Spirit also sustains and sanctifies. We Catholics are not ‘deists.’  We do not believe that God set the world in motion and then walked away. Maybe checking on it from time to time as one will check the soup. No, Divine Love cares for what it begets. As Catholics we believe that God is present to all creation, sustains us, continues to redeem us and sanctify us.

       It is this last bit about sanctification which is the kicker. It is a very heady thing to realize that each of us, by our baptism and by the other sacraments of the Church, are invited to participate in the very relationship that is God. This “Holy Spirit,” which is the power of the love of God between the Father and the Son, this relationship of sanctifying grace is what enables us to be what God has intended for each of us when he loved us into being.

       May we welcome such grace and let it transform us to reflections of such a perfect love.