McGrath Institute Blog

Like the majority of Thanksgivings since I moved from the east coast to South Bend for grad school, I will be away from my family. In response to my absence, I will once again call home, be placed on speaker phone and passed around the table while I do my best to hear the person on the line. My initial plea, “No, not speaker phone,” is most often lost in the shuffle.

Usually, the experiences that linger prominently in our memories have a special significance. Often, they are associated with an emotionally-charged encounter or an event that profoundly influenced us at the time. But many of these experiences, when revisited through contemplation across the years, continue to affect us and contribute to the person we are becoming. 

“The dazzling genius of Augustine, the luminous wisdom of Thomas Aquinas, have shed forth upon souls the rays of an imperishable splendor; through them, Christ and his doctrine have become better known. The divine poem lived out by Francis of Assisi has given to the world an imitation, as yet unequaled, of the life of God made man. Through him legions of men and women have learned to love God more perfectly. But a little Carmelite who had hardly reached adult age has conquered in less than half a century innumerable hosts of disciples. Doctors of the law have become children at her school; the Supreme Shepherd has exalted her and prays to her with humble and assiduous supplications; and even at this moment from one end of the earth to the other, there are millions of souls whose interior life has received the beneficent influence of [her] little book [The Story of a Soul].”

Editorial Note: This post is an excerpt from a longer article, published on Church Life Journal on Tuesday, November 19, 2019. Read the full version here.

What is leadership in the Church?

As a kid, I would wake up early before school. Because my Mom and Dad were getting ready, they were always looking for ways to occupy me so I didn’t get in their way. Many days, my Mom would lead me downstairs, my eyes and brain somewhere between being asleep and being awake. I would lie on the scratchy green couch in our living room as I watched Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood on the local PBS station.