With the election of Pope Leo XIV, the church and the world had to come to grips with an unexpected, new spiritual leader, unsure of what his pontificate would mean.
Time is a funny thing. It’s often not until we look back at artifacts – pictures, writing, artwork – that we truly understand growth and the passage of time.
When someone accepts election as pontiff, there undergoes a change in that individual, not only in life purpose in leading global Catholicism for, presumably, the rest of one’s life, but in one’s own identity, seen in leaving one’s own name and thereafter accepting a new name.
The Easter Monday death of Pope Francis, with whom I coincidently share a birthday, reminded me of how intertwined my life and its trajectory is with those of the church, which has been forced to change with the times and through the leadership of its popes in my lifetime.
I am now seven almost eight months into grieving my husband’s death – something I never imagined I would be doing right now, at this stage of my life, just as we were starting to embrace the empty-nester lifestyle.
Spring has officially sprung, it seems. The disorderly weather seems to confuse the natural world: last week, we were in shorts; now, we’re back in morning jackets and long sleeves.
At least five times a day, I remind my children to share or to take turns. We have officially entered the stage where all three children squabble over “their” things.
Queridos hermanos: hoy, en este Tercer Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario, la Palabra de Dios nos invita a reflexionar sobre la importancia de las Escrituras y la misión de Jesús como el Ungido de Dios.