“But Jesus said to him, ‘Judas, would you betray the Son of man with a kiss?’” – Lk. 22:48

With the barrage of Valentine’s Day merchandise hitting the shelves, and considering our current “hook up” culture, it seems relevant and reasonable to ask the question: “Does a kiss mean anything anymore?”

Yet, this is just one small example highlighting a more fundamental division in our culture. It is a fundamental division over the answer to a more fundamental question: “Do the world and the things in it have an objective meaning and purpose, or is all meaning subjectively assigned and thus merely relative?” In short, does anything mean anything?

I have come to believe, however, that these questions ultimately lead to the ultimate question, to the question of all questions, to the question of The Ultimate: Is there a Creator or not? 

If there is a Creator Who is an Intelligence, then the world is intelligible. If there is a Creator Who is Rational Being, then things are created for a reason, for an end, and have intrinsic meaning. Simply put, if there is no God, then there is no meaning. No real meaning anyway; nothing upon which you can hang your hat (or bet your life). All there would be is the meaning that we make for ourselves. Faced with the “existential vacuum” of a meaningless universe, we become the self-proclaimed masters of the meanings of things (at least for us). And we dub it “freedom.” Consider this quote from Justice Anthony Kennedy from the 1992 Supreme Court abortion case, Casey v. Planned Parenthood:  “At the heart of liberty is the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.” Seems to me yet another vain attempt to “be like God” (Gen. 3:5) and to “make a name for ourselves” (Gen. 11:4).

If all rational beings act for an end, as Aristotle posited and appears manifestly true, then certainly the One Who is Reason Itself, because He is the Logos, would do so. As Pope Benedict XVI clarified, “Logos means both reason and word – a reason that is creative and capable of self-communication, precisely as reason” (The Regensburg Lecture, no. 17).  If everything that exists began as an idea in the mind of God, then everything has been “creatively thought.” St. Thomas Aquinas, whose feast day we celebrate on January 28, wrote that the divine ideas are “exemplar forms existing in the divine mind” and “what is real is called true in so far as it realizes that toward which it is ordained in the mind of God” (Disputed Questions on Truth, I, 2). Thomas considers final cause as the “first” among causes because things are only moved by an agent and “the agent only moves by intending an end” (Summa Theologiae, I-II, 1, 2). He uses the term “nature” to refer to “the essence of a thing as directed to its specific operation” (On Being and Essence, I, 4). In summary, every created thing has a “nature” and a characteristic activity given by God that is directed towards some end or purpose. In fact, a thing’s “nature” is revealed in and through this characteristic activity and end.

All of this to say what? If there is a God, then the world and the things in it have an objective meaning assigned by the One who thought of them. Then a kiss is not “just a kiss” – a kiss has meaning apart from whatever we might mean by it. 

St. John Paul II said, “If the human being… gives to his behavior a meaning in conformity with the fundamental truth of the language of the body, then he too ‘is in the truth.’ In the opposite case, he commits lies and falsifies the language of the body” (Theology of the Body, 106:3). It seems that this is what Jesus was getting at with his rhetorical question to Judas. Judas was not only betraying the Son of man, but the meaning of a kiss.

It may well be that all the confusion in our culture on issues of sex and sexuality, gender and generation, and the definition of life, marriage and family comes down to a question of meaning. 

And that ultimately comes down to the question of God.

David Hajduk received his Ph.D. in Theology from Maryvale Institute in Birmingham, England, and wrote his dissertation on the thought of St. John Paul II. He is a teacher, speaker, pastoral minister, and award-winning author of God’s Plan for You: Life, Love, Marriage and Sex (Pauline Books & Media, 2006, 2018), a book for teens on the Theology of the Body. David is the Director of Theology for Array of Hope.

“And she shall bring forth a son:  and thou shalt call his name JESUS. For he shall save his people from their sins.” – Matthew 1: 21

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” – The Jesus Prayer

A simple prayer of only one verse, The Jesus Prayer, likely has its origin in the Desert Fathers of the 3rd and 4th centuries. It is highly esteemed and recommended in the Eastern Orthodox Church, and particularly connected with the spiritual teaching found in the Philokalia and with the contemplative Hesychastic tradition. It is the subject of the famous 19th century Russian work entitled The Way of the Pilgrim, which recounts the narrator’s travels attempting to discover how to “pray without ceasing.” Though simple and short, this prayer is deeply rooted in the Scriptures, particularly the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector found in Luke’s Gospel (Luke 18:9-14). We can also discover within it much of what the angel declares to Mary, to Joseph, and to the shepherds about the identity of the Babe to be born in the manger in Bethlehem. In fact, it could be said that The Jesus Prayer sums up just about everything we believe about Jesus. At Christmas time, when we celebrate the birth of the One who will “save his people from their sins,” Whose very name declares His mission, it is good to reflect on what we believe about this Babe lying in the manger. 

Lord – The first word of the prayer is “Lord.” The shepherds were told that the child was Christ “the Lord” (Luke 2:11). We often quickly pass by this title when referring to Jesus, as if it is a part of His name. But in the New Testament world, the word “Lord” referred to ownership. The Lord owned the property worked by the servants, and perhaps even owned the servants. There was a complete submission of the servant to the will of the “Lord” or “Master.” The implication is that when we say, “Jesus is Lord” we mean that we belong to Him, that He “owns” us, that all we possess is really His and from Him, and that we should will or want nothing but what He wills and wants. We acknowledge that we are not our own, but have been bought at a great price (cf. 1 Corinth. 6:19-20).

Jesus – The name Jesus, the Greek form of the Hebrew Yeshua, literally means “Savior” or “Yahweh saves.” This was the name given by the angel to Mary and to Joseph.   To Joseph, the angel states the reason for the child’s name: “For he shall save his people from their sins” (Matt. 1:21). When the angel appears to the shepherds he declares, “This day is born for you a Savior” (Luke 2: 2:11). The name Jesus emphasizes that He came into the world to save us. The word “salvation” comes from the Latin word salus, which means health, healing, or wholeness. From it we also get words like “salve,” which is an ointment you would put on a wound. When we say that Jesus saves us, it means that He heals us and makes us whole again. The sin of the “first” Adam had wounded us, broken us. Sin wounds and breaks our relationship with God, our relationships with one another, and our relationship with creation itself. It wounds our very nature, disordering our desires and inclining us to sin. And, if we are honest, we are all well aware of our own guilt here. Even our most sincere efforts at love and justice are tainted by selfishness and ulterior motives.  Although we long for wholeness, we seem incapable of setting things right, of fixing what is broken in us and in the world.  Simply put, we cannot save ourselves. It is this pitiable situation that prompted St. Paul to cry out, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Rom. 7:24-25). Yes, only Jesus, the Last Adam (1 Corinth. 15:45), can save us; only He makes us whole again. How did He do this? By dying on the cross – by being broken and wounded Himself so that we might be made whole. And by sending us the Holy Spirit, that we might walk according to the Spirit (cf. Gal. 5:16) in newness of life (cf. Rom. 6:4) and no longer live for ourselves, but for Him (2 Corinth. 5:15). Any of us who recognize those areas in our world and in ourselves where there is brokenness, disease, and disorder should take comfort that the name Jesus means, “God heals us and makes us whole again.” This is the charity of God (cf. Rom. 5:8, 1 John 4:10, Eph. 2:4).

Christ – Literally, “the anointed one.” This title was given to the shepherds. “Christ” is a messianic title, the Greek equivalent of the Hebrew Meshiach. In the Old Testament, the “anointed ones”were priests, prophets, and kings. The Messiah to come was expected to fulfill all these roles. We see this in Jesus: He offers Himself as a sacrifice on behalf of the people, He speaks the Word of God and calls people back to the Covenant with the Father, and He is the King of Kings, Ruler of Heaven and Earth. That He was a King was announced by the angel to Mary, and later to the shepherds. It is also the King’s star that guided the wise men who, carefully following the prophecies, sought for the place of His birth (Matt. 2:1-2). As Jesus’ subjects, we profess complete loyalty to our King, and seek to extend His Kingdom in the world: “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt. 6:10).

Son of God – Mary was told that the child would be called the “Son of God,” because of His virginal conception and being fashioned in her womb by the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit (Luke 1:35). “Son of God” in the prayer is a proclamation of faith in Jesus’ divinity. Jesus is totally human, but also totally divine. He is the Word of God made flesh (cf. John 1:14). He is “consubstantial with the Father,” as we proclaim every Sunday Mass in the Nicene Creed (cf. John 10:30). Because Jesus is God Himself, His words and deeds have power and authority. “He alone has the words of eternal life” (John 6:68).  He is master over the wind and the waves (cf. Matt. 8:27). In Him, “we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).

Have mercy on me a sinner – Here we acknowledge the sheer fact that God is the one true and living God, Creator and Lord of heaven and earth, Almighty, Eternal, Immense, Incomprehensible, Infinite in intelligence, in will, and in all perfection (cf. Dei Filius, Ch. 1, Vatican I, 1870). Since there is such a gulf between God’s nature as Creator and ours as creature, any goodness He shows us is technically a “mercy.” Our very existence – here and now – and all that fills it is totally dependent on Him. It is a “mercy.” However, in addition to being creatures, we are sinners. We disobey or disregard God and His commandments so very often. We have rebellious hearts that refuse to serve and are all too willing to acquiesce to the temptations that come from the world, the flesh, and the Devil. We are routinely forgetful, ungrateful, and self-centered. We fail to recognize those on the margins and in need – the poor, the lonely, the outcast – those with whom the Lord so fully identifies with Himself that He says, “Whatever you did not do to the least of these, you did not do to me” (Matt. 25:40). We, like the tax collector in Luke’s Gospel, should be hesitant to lift our eyes to heaven; we should cry out in repentance, begging God, in His great love, to have mercy on us. This is the kind of prayer that finds favor with God and will justify us before Him (cf. Luke 18:14). A humble and contrite heart He will not despise (Ps. 51:17).

In his penetrating book, Life of Christ, Archbishop Fulton Sheen states, “The story of every human life begins with birth and ends with death. In the Person of Christ, however, it was His death that was first and His life that was last.  The Scripture describes Him as ‘the Lamb slain as it were, from the beginning of the world.’ He was slain in intention by the first sin and rebellion against God. It was not so much that His birth cast a shadow on His Life and thus led to His death; it was rather that the Cross was first, and cast its shadow back to His birth” (p. 20). In other words, the shadow of the Cross fell upon the cradle: a cradle that was a manger, a feeding trough for animals, in Bethlehem, which means “House of Bread.” The bread that Jesus would give was His flesh for the life of the world (cf. John 6:52). It was the reason He had come. As Sheen continues, “This was ‘His Father’s business’; everything else would be incidental to it” (p. 30).

So when we celebrate the Babe born in Bethlehem that lay in a manger, let us not forget Who He is and the reason for His coming. Let us beat our breasts and cry out: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Yet, at the same time, let us “fear not” – heeding the encouraging words of the angel to Mary, to Joseph, and to the shepherds – for this day is born for us a Savior, who is Christ the Lord: hope for the wayward soul and for a broken world. 

Good tidings of great joy, indeed!

David Hajduk received his Ph.D. in Theology from Maryvale Institute in Birmingham, England, and wrote his dissertation on the thought of St. John Paul II. He is a teacher, speaker, pastoral minister, and award-winning author of God’s Plan for You: Life, Love, Marriage and Sex (Pauline Books & Media, 2006, 2018), a book for teens on the Theology of the Body. David is the Director of Theology for Array of Hope.

I thought 2019 was difficult. Then what happened? We were all hit with arguably the most unpredictable, unsettling, emotionally draining year of the century… and perhaps the most life-giving year for some, myself included.

Now allow me to preface this by saying I truly cannot overlook the pain and trauma that this year has brought into so many lives. For many, 2020 was a year defined by loss in countless forms. I, too, experienced loss. I lost my job. I said goodbye to plans I had for years. Even my wedding plans seemed to be sucked down the drain before my own eyes. Yet what God gave me was far greater than anything I “lost.” I didn’t really lose — God simply replaced my expectations with what turned out to be better.

2020 kicked off, and I couldn’t wait to marry the love of my life. I had waited for so long! We had planned so many pieces of our dream wedding during our two-year engagement, and everything was falling into place… or so we thought.

“Coronavirus” suddenly stole headlines, coming out of what seemed like left field to me. It felt distant, until it no longer did. I’ll never forget the day I heard the first case had been reported in our county. Lockdowns were imminent, businesses were suddenly shutting down, and then my work indicated that we would all be working from home, effective immediately. In a matter of several weeks, conversations surrounding layoffs became frequent, and inevitable anxiety about our wedding plans rapidly grew in intensity.

I knew I needed to conquer one battle at a time, as my multitasking abilities only reach so far. So I began applying proactively for other jobs, since it became quite clear that layoffs were on the horizon at my company. Along with that, my now-husband and I began brainstorming solutions in advance to our wedding problem, which was only heightening in complexity.

The Archdiocese of Baltimore, where we had been planning on holding our wedding for two years, halted all matrimonial ceremonies due to the governor’s orders surrounding group gatherings. And of course, Baltimore’s tentative lockdown date had been extended beyond our original wedding date of June 13th. This also meant that the Circuit Court, responsible for issuing marriage licenses, was closed indefinitely. Our wedding plans seemed to suddenly be paused, and we felt cornered by sudden restrictions from every angle for reasons outside of our control.

My husband and I evaluated our priorities, diving deep into the plans we had for several years and honestly evaluating our hopes from that moment forward. We realized we just wanted to be joined together in Holy Matrimony, regardless of the circumstances. With that, we received support from the Diocese of Arlington, Virginia, where marriage ceremonies were still being held, to move our wedding across state lines.

Against what is typically traditional, we found a priest we had never met who was willing to host our gathering of eleven people (nine guests plus the happy couple) at a parish we had never attended. We became parishioners there, and somehow managed to move our wedding date forward to May 29th, following tons (and I mean tons!) of paperwork. A local family-owned ice creamery agreed to host our small reception, complete with milkshakes and sundaes, hot dogs, fries, and canned soda. We were happy. We felt peace.

Fast forward two weeks to our honeymoon. We decided to put our health in the Lord’s hands and traveled to Wyoming, where we would spend two weeks on a secluded ranch, horseback riding and enjoying the scenery with limited phone service. One morning, we headed into town for iced lattes with some of the ranch staff, and I received a phone call. My new job offer, which I had accepted after leaving my previous position, had fallen through due to COVID. I was flabbergasted, but I remember saying aloud that I trusted I would find another opportunity soon, and that I would continue to enjoy our honeymoon.

I also felt physically strange that day, and felt a strong calling to stop at the local drugstore on the way back to the ranch to pick up a pregnancy test. About one hour after I found out I had lost my job, we learned that we were expecting our first child. Joy overtook us again, during what was certainly the most confusing morning of my life. The anxiety surrounding my job had faded in the distance as we celebrated this new life within me.

Needless to say, the past few months since then have been a whirlwind. Our wedding plans were entirely different than we thought they’d be, but we knew God wanted our wedding to be exactly the way it was for a reason. I still laugh, knowing the reception fit for a king and queen my parents had planned on throwing us was replaced almost overnight with a $180 hot dog dinner… and it was perfect. Then I showed up to countless job interviews after suffering from morning sickness, only able to drink chocolate milk and eat toast on some days, and God blessed me with an amazing new career path that is even better than my previous opportunity. And my favorite part? My husband and I have gotten to know our son through heartbeat scans, ultrasounds, and belly kicks, and he will be here in just a couple of months now. Despite the challenges, time has flown, and God has been gracious.

2020 has still presented us with some unresolved challenges, but that’s okay. We are trusting in Him. And the best part is knowing how much we have to look forward to, with such beautiful and incredible blessings coming out of this confusing, baffling year. We wouldn’t have it any other way.

If all of your plans have been ruined this year and you are feeling down, rest assured that God is with you in the mess and He has not forgotten you. God has a plan and it is Good, so place your trust in Him.

Siena Michaud is a newlywed and mother-to-be, residing with her husband, German Shepherd, and tabby cat in Northern Virginia.

“Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son.” – Luke 15:21

“Deserve.” This word automatically evokes a sense of justice. You get what you deserve: what is your right, what is coming to you. “Father, let me have the share of the estate that will come to me” (Luke 15:12).  You get what you have earned, what you have worked for. “All these years I have slaved for you and never once disobeyed any orders of yours…” (Luke 15:29).

“Deserving” is different when viewed within the paradigm of justice than within the paradigm of grace. Deserving in the paradigm of justice is dependent on what you have done, or the status you have attained. Deserving in the paradigm of grace – since grace is a completely gratuitous gift – is dependent on how the “giver” regards you, on the status he or she bestows. Perhaps, both sons in the parable suffer from the same misunderstanding. Both claim justice (later on, the younger son even believed he deserved a demotion for his sins), when, in fact, all is grace.

This misunderstanding has practical consequences.  The first consequence is that life becomes a burden. It can feel like slavery, a drudgery, as if you are trapped and held back. The younger son experiences this in his need to leave the Father’s house for “a distant country.” He couldn’t get far enough away.  The older son experiences this right at home, in the bitterness of heart exposed by his contempt for his brother.

The second consequence of this misunderstanding is emptiness and alienation. The younger son winds up hungry, the older son alone. There is no joy, no peace, no experience of authentic community when one is stuck in the paradigm of justice.  There are only the extremes of despair, because we are overcome by being unworthy and undeserving, or presumption, because we consider ourselves righteous and all-to-deserving (even as we beat our breast reciting the Confiteor).  In this paradigm, there is only judgment – either of oneself or of others.  Here one only finds a dry desert, not a life-giving stream.

The son who feels unworthy of the father’s love, the father embraces and kisses, disregarding his words of being undeserving. The son who in his self-righteousness refuses to enter into the father’s love, the father urges saying, “You are with me always, and all I have is yours” (Luke 15:31).  For the father, it has never been about deserving his love.  In truth, none of us is “deserving” of the Father’s love (see Rom. 3:23 and Eph. 2:3). And Jesus took upon Himself anything that we really deserved, and it was nailed to the cross (see Col. 2:14, 1 Pet. 2:24, Rom. 6:23).  No… all is grace, all is mercy.  And “mercy triumphs over judgment” (Jas. 2:13) for those who trust in Jesus and throw themselves into His merciful arms (see Jesus to St. Faustina, Diary, 1541). “How can we make a return to the Lord” for all the good He has done for us, the Psalmist asks (116:12). We can’t. We can only “raise the cup of salvation” (Ps. 116:13) – the cup filled with the precious blood of our Blessed Lord, shed for our sins.

Once we claim this truth and break free from the shackles of trying to be “deserving” our response becomes one of spontaneous love and gratefulness, one of humility and compassion. Our days become filled with awe and wonder at the sheer gratuity of God. Then we obey less out of fear and more out of love (1 John 4:18, John 14:15). Then we can become merciful just as the Father is merciful (Luke 6:36) and reject self-righteousness and looking at others with contempt (Luke 18:9, Matt. 7:1). Then every day is a Thanksgiving and our lives exclaim, “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, his mercy endures forever” (Ps. 118:1).

David Hajduk received his Ph.D. in Theology from Maryvale Institute in Birmingham, England, and wrote his dissertation on the thought of St. John Paul II. He is a teacher, speaker, pastoral minister, and award-winning author of God’s Plan for You: Life, Love, Marriage and Sex (Pauline Books & Media, 2006, 2018), a book for teens on the Theology of the Body. David is the Director of Theology for Array of Hope.

St. Augustine preached, “Love and do what you will.” Augustine’s meaning, however, can be misunderstood. He wasn’t saying that any action done with a feeling of affection or tenderness is by virtue of that motivation ipso facto “loving.” After all, this is the same Augustine who stated, “What is not loved in its own right is not loved,” making clear that love is “disinterested” and focused solely on the true good of the one loved. In fact, one of the main points of the sermon from which our opening words come was that certain actions which appear unloving, like a parent disciplining his or her child, actually are expressions of love. And such actions may require doing things that are displeasing to the one loved and don’t make anyone feel very good at all.

In today’s culture, there are many misconceptions about what love is and about what is truly “loving.” One major misconception is that love is equated with feelings. A love that is reduced to feelings isn’t love at all, but descends into subjectivism. This is why love requires truth. Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI wrote: “Truth is the light that gives meaning and value to charity… Without truth, charity degenerates into sentimentality. Love becomes an empty shell, to be filled in an arbitrary way. In a culture without truth, this is the fatal risk facing love. It falls prey to contingent subjective emotions and opinions, the word ‘love’ is abused and distorted, to the point where it comes to mean the opposite” (Caritas in Veritate, no. 3). There is a reason why St. Paul wrote that love “rejoices with the truth” (1 Corinth. 13:6), and why St. John exhorts us to love “in deed and in truth” (1 John 3:18).

Now, this doesn’t mean that love has nothing to do with feelings. In fact, in his pre-papal work Love and Responsibility, St. John Paul II states that feelings of love are based in attraction (which regards the other person as a good) and in desire (which longs for the other person as a good which you lack). Attraction, desire, and the feelings to which they give rise are “essential aspects of love as a whole” and are “indeed love.” Yet, they are a love that is incomplete. As St. John Paul II wrote, “It is not enough to long for a person as a good for oneself, one must also, and above all, long for that person’s good.” This is the “purest form of love”: to will the good for a person and to desire their full flourishing. This is the only love that affirms a person’s dignity and inherent value. Anything less is ultimately self-centered and egoistic, and poses a danger to love itself.

Clearly, knowing the truth about what is good is a prerequisite for willing it. Without reference to the truth about “the good,” love “falls prey to contingent subjective emotions and opinions” and has little to do with the good of the person, or human dignity, or human rights for that matter. And the truth about “the good” is inseparable from the truth about “the person.” You can only know what is truly good for a person (and love him or her by willing it) if you have a correct understanding of what the human person is.

St. John Paul II was fond of quoting this line from Vatican II’s Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et Spes): “Christ… fully reveals man to man himself and makes his supreme calling clear… He Who is “the image of the invisible God” (Col. 1:15), is Himself the perfect man” (no. 22).  The truth about the human person, his nature and vocation, is found in the humanity of Jesus Christ! And the truth about what is good for the person (and what isn’t) is revealed in His commandments! The one who loves is the one who holds to His commandments and keeps them (Jn. 14:21). And so, if we are going to love we must first obey Jesus’ word (Jn.  14:23). 

The word “obedience” comes from the Latin ob audire, which means “to hear or listen to.” Obeying begins with hearing, with listening. Thus, obeying Jesus means listening to him who is the Beloved Son to learn how to be the beloved of God (see Mk. 9:7). Interestingly, the word “absurd” derives from the Latin surdus, which means to be deaf. The absurd person will not listen. The absurd person makes him or herself deaf. The absurd person will not obey.  The Proto-Indo European root of surdus refers to “ringing.” Absurd people only hear themselves and the sound of their own point of view ringing in their heads, even if it makes no logical sense or defies common sense. And it would seem to me there is a real deficit of logic and common sense these days.

When we obey, we not only hear, but we see. We will see God, for Jesus will reveal himself to us: “Whoever holds to my commandments and keeps them is the one who loves me… and I shall love him and reveal myself to him.” (John 14:21).  And it is only in Jesus, the Beloved Son, Love incarnate, who is the Truth, that we can know true love, learn what it means to be and to live as God’s beloved, and be set free from a life of absurdity.

David C. Hajduk, Ph.D. has over thirty years of experience in religious education and pastoral ministry, including youth, family life, and pro-life ministries. David did his doctoral work in Theology at Maryvale Institute in Birmingham, England, and wrote his dissertation on the thought of St. John Paul II. Since 1998, David has been a member of the Theology Department at Delbarton School in Morristown, New Jersey, and since 2002 has been the Director of Mission and Ministry. David also has served as an Adjunct Professor of Moral Theology at Immaculate Conception Seminary School of Theology at Seton Hall University since 2008. He is the Theological Programming Director for Array of Hope, a ministry in service of the “New Evangelization” that shares the beauty and truth of the Catholic faith through high quality media and events that are current, relevant, and engaging. 

Simply put, Divine Mercy is the heart of our faith. It not only entails God’s mercy towards us, we must carry out works of mercy in our own lives, becoming an extension of the work of God: “be apostles of Divine Mercy under the maternal and loving guidance of Mary” (St .John Paul II)

The devotion to Divine Mercy is popularly associated with Saint Faustina who was born Helena Kowalska to a peasant family in 1905. At the tender age of seven, she already claimed to feel a call to the religious life. Due to her poverty, she was rejected by multiple convents, until she finally entered the Congregation of the Sisters of Our Lady of Mercy in Warsaw at the age of 20.

On the 22^nd of February 1931, Jesus appeared to sister Faustina clothed in white and with red and white rays emanating from His Heart. In her diary, Faustina recorded that Jesus made the following request to her:

Paint an image according to the pattern you see, with the signature: “Jesus, I trust in You”. I desire that this image be venerated, first in your chapel, and then throughout the world. I promise that the soul that will venerate this image will not perish. (Diary 47).

The message of mercy was incredibly timely for our world, as we can see by the fast proliferation of devotional images of the Divine Mercy during the Second World War (a war which was predicted by Faustina). While there was already a feast day dedicated to mercy, no one seemed to know of it. Thus, Jesus requested Faustina that the first Sunday after Easter be especially dedicated to it.

 We begin to see in the writings of Thérèse of Lisieux, who ‘helped to heal souls of the rigors and fears of Jansenism’,[1] the significance of God’s mercy for the tumultuous time the world was about to enter. Both Thérèse and Faustina shared a deep devotion to the loving mercy of God, with Thérèse writing: “I shall begin to sing what I must sing eternally: the mercies of the Lord”. In making Faustina the Secretary of Divine Mercy, God was able to communicate to the world that this was a time of where God’s mercy would overflow.

What exactly does this mercy entail? My favorite prayer can be found in the Divine Mercy chaplet. It wonderfully describes how God’s mercy is something that we cannot even comprehend in our littleness, something that we may only fully grasp on the day that we come face to face with Him. God’s mercy has no limit, in fact, ‘inexhaustible’ is the adjective which is used.

Eternal God, in whom mercy is endless and the treasury of compassion – inexhaustible, look kindly upon us and increase Your mercy in us, that in difficult moments we might not despair nor become despondent, but with great confidence submit ourselves to Your holy will, which is Love and Mercy itself.

No matter how many times we fall away, refuse His will and say no to Him, God is waiting for us with open arms. The care that He feels for us simply cannot be expire, and tirelessly, He waits for us to say yes to Him.

As Catholics, we are not only called to embrace God’s mercy towards us, but also to mirror His mercy in the world. Another saint particularly associated with the Divine Mercy devotion is Pope Saint John Paul II. He practiced incredible works of compassion both throughout his pontificate, and when he was known by the name Karol Wojtyła. He assisted the young Jewish refugee Edith Zierer who had escaped from a Nazi labour camp. When he was shot by Mehmet Ali Ağca in Saint Peter’s Square, John Paul II visited the ‘brother whom I have pardoned and who has my complete trust’. While we may not be able to carry out such extraordinary works of mercy and forgiveness in our lives, we can indeed follow the Little Way of St Thérèse who treated everyone around her with love. One must not be discouraged by the littleness of their actions: they ripple out into the world, like a small stone flung into a pond. The ripples reach further than we could ever imagine: “you are to show mercy to our neighbors always and everywhere” (Jesus to Saint Faustina, Diary 742).

As John Paul II said at the Shrine of Divine Mercy in Krakow, 1997, there is nothing man needs more than Divine Mercy. May we give thanks to the Lord for His goodness.

Jesus, we trust in You.

[1] http://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/apost_letters/1997/documents/hf_jp-ii_apl_19101997_divini-amoris.html

Lucy Coatman is a historian in training, currently pursuing a postgraduate degree in History at the University of St Andrews, where she converted to Catholicism in 2015. She holds an MA in Theological Studies from the same institution. Lucy is passionate about the mercy and goodness of God, as well as 19th century Austrian history, Tintoretto paintings, and a good cup of tea. You can view more from Lucy on her website https://www.lucycoatman.com