Episodes

  • January 24: Saint Francis de Sales, Bishop

    January 24: Saint Francis de Sales, Bishop
    Jan 24 2025
    1567–1622
    Memorial; Liturgical Color: White
    Patron Saint of writers and journalists

    A talented gentleman of sterling character embodies holiness

    It is almost an act of rudeness to limit the life of today’s saint to a page or two. Saint Francis de Sales was a religious celebrity in his own day and age. He was an erudite, humble, tough, and zealous priest and bishop. He was holy and known to be holy by everyone, especially those closest to him. He mingled easily with princes, kings, and popes, who enjoyed his charming and educated company. He incessantly crisscrossed his diocese on foot and horseback, destroying his own health, to visit the poor and humble faithful who were drawn to him as much as the high born. He embodied to the fullest that extraordinary pastoral and intellectual productivity, characteristic of the greatest saints, which makes one wonder if he ever rested a single minute or slept a single night.

    Saint Francis de Sales was born and lived most of his life in what is today Southeast France. His father ensured that he received an excellent education from a young age, and his son excelled in every subject. His intellectual gifts, holiness, and engaging personality made him, almost inevitably, an ideal candidate for the priesthood and eventually the episcopacy. He was duly appointed the Bishop of Geneva, a generation after John Calvin, a former future priest, had turned that deeply Catholic city into the Protestant Rome. Saint Francis was Bishop of Geneva primarily in name, not fact.

    In carrying out his ministry, Francis’ weapon of choice was the pen. His apologetic and spiritual works brought back to the faith tens of thousands of former Catholics after they had dabbled in Calvinism. Saint Francis’s works were so profound and creative, and his love of God so straightforward and understandable, that he would be declared a Doctor of the Church in 1877. In his most well-known book, Introduction to the Devout Life, he addressed himself to “people who live in towns, within families, or at court.” His sage spiritual advice encouraged the faithful to seek perfection in the mechanic’s shop, the soldier’s regiment, or on the wharf. God’s will was to be found everywhere, not just in monasteries and convents.

    Many arduous pastoral trips through the mountains of his native region eventually wore him out. Saint Francis never insisted on preferential treatment despite his status. He slept, ate, and traveled as a common man would. When he lay dying, mute after a terrible stroke, a nun asked him if he had any final words of wisdom to impart. He asked for some paper and wrote three words on it: “Humility, Humility, Humility.” Saint Francis is buried in a beautiful bronze sepulchre displaying his likeness in the Visitation Basilica and Convent in Annecy, France.

    Saint Francis de Sales, we ask your intercession to aid us in leading a balanced life of study, prayer, virtue, and service. You were a model bishop who never expected special privilege. Help all those who teach the faith to convey doctrine with the same force, clarity, and depth that you did.
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    4 mins
  • January 23: Saint Marianne Cope, Virgin (U.S.A.)

    January 23: Saint Marianne Cope, Virgin (U.S.A.)
    Jan 22 2025
    January 23: Saint Marianne Cope, Virgin (U.S.A.)
    1838–1918
    Optional Memorial; Liturgical Color: White
    Patron Saint of Hawaiʻi, lepers, outcasts, and sufferers of HIV/AIDS

    She learned generosity at home and lived it her whole life

    Today’s saint was a model female Franciscan who emulated Saint Francis’ heroic example of personally caring for the outcasts of all outcasts—lepers. Saints are not born, of course; they are made. And Saint Marianne Cope came from a specific time, place, and family. She could have developed her abundant talents in many directions and used them for many purposes, but she re-directed what God loaned her to serve Him, His Church, and mankind. The Church, the Franciscans, and Hawaiʻi were the arenas in which this elite spiritual athlete exercised her skills. She was asked for much and gave even more. She became a great woman.

    Marianne Cope was born in Germany and was brought to New York state by her parents when she was still a baby. She was the oldest of ten children. Her parents lived, struggled, and worked for their kids. She saw generosity in action at home every day. She quit school after eighth grade to work in a factory to financially support her ailing father, her mother, and her many siblings. The challenges inherent to immigration, a new culture, illness, a large family, and poverty turned Marianne into a serious, mature woman when she was just a teen.

    Marianne fulfilled her long-delayed desire to enter religious life in 1862. Once professed, she moved quickly into leadership positions. She taught in German-speaking Catholic grade schools, became a school principal, and was elected by her fellow Franciscans to positions of governance in her Order. She opened the first hospitals in her region of Central New York, dedicating herself and her Order to the time-honored religious vocation of caring for the sick, regardless of their ability to pay for medical services. She was eventually elected Superior General. In her early forties, she was already a woman of wide experience: serious, administratively gifted, spiritually grounded, and of great human virtues. But this was all mere preparation. She now began the second great act of her drama. She went to Hawaiʻi.

    In 1883 she received a letter from the Bishop of Honolulu begging her, as Superior General, to send sisters to care for lepers in Hawaiʻi. He had written to various other religious Orders without success. Sister Marianne was elated. She responded like the prophet Isaiah, saying, “Here am I; send me!” (Is 6:8). She not only sent six sisters, she sent herself! She planned to one day return to New York but never did. For the next thirty-five years, Sister Marianne Cope became a type of recluse on remote Hawaiʻi, giving herself completely to the will of God.

    Sister Marianne and her fellow Franciscans managed one hospital, founded another, opened a home for the daughters of lepers, and, after a few years of proving themselves, opened a home for women and girls on the virtually inaccessible island of Molokai. Here her life coincided with the final months of Saint Damien de Veuster. Sister Marianne nursed the future saint in his dying days, assuring him that she and her sisters would continue his work among the lepers. After Father Damien died, the Franciscans, in addition to caring for the leprous girls, now cared for the boys too. A male Congregation eventually relieved them of this apostolate.

    Sister Marianne Cope lived the last thirty years of her life on Molokai until her death in 1918. She was beatified by Pope Benedict XVI in 2005 and canonized by him in 2012. She loved the Holy Eucharist, the Virgin Mary, and the Church. And because she loved God first, she loved those whom God loves, her brothers and sisters in Christ. She sacrificed for them, left home and family for them, put her health at risk for them, and became a saint through them.

    Saint Marianne Cope, help us to be as generous as you were in serving those on the margins, those who need our help, and those who have no one else to assist them. You were a model Franciscan in dying to self. Help us to likewise die so that we might likewise live.
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    5 mins
  • January 22: Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children (U.S.A.)

    January 22: Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children (U.S.A.)
    Jan 21 2025
    January 22: Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children (U.S.A.)
    Memorial; Liturgical Color: White or Violet

    Abortion is a black eye on the handsome face of America

    At 3:00 a.m. on March 13, 1964, a young woman parked her car next to her apartment building in Queens, New York. She got out and started walking toward the door when, in the darkness, she spotted someone in her path. She changed direction and ran toward a police call box. The man caught up and tackled her to the ground. He stabbed her in the back. She screamed for help. Lights blinked on; windows opened. She screamed repeatedly, “I’m dying! Help me!” The attack continued. Forty-five minutes later, a neighbor called the police. Officers arrived and identified the victim as twenty-eight-year-old Kitty Genovese. At least thirty-eight neighbors heard or witnessed the attack. Not one of them came to her aid. Only one called the police, belatedly.

    The response to Kitty Genovese’s murder was widely studied and became known as the “Genovese Syndrome” or the “Bystander Effect.” As the number of bystanders to a crime or accident increases, the likelihood of anyone doing anything about it decreases. Because everyone thinks someone else is going to intervene, no one does anything. Ironically, if Kitty’s attack had been witnessed by just one person, instead of thirty-eight, her chances of survival would have increased.

    Moral outrage is stifled, duty is diminished, and the desire to blend in predominates in groups. Even if a group is witnessing something awful, many individuals keep quiet. January 22, 1973, marks the dark anniversary of the U.S. Supreme Court decisions, Roe vs. Wade and Doe vs. Bolton, which blew the moral lights out for the protection of the unborn in the United States. All right-thinking people have an obligation to name abortion for what it is, regardless of what others may say. A country is like a big group, and we tend to conform to group norms. But scientific and technological advances have erased all doubt about whether pre-born life is human life. It’s a baby. When a woman is expecting, no one goes to a “fetus shower,” they go to a “baby shower.” It’s not a potential human life. It’s a human life with potential.

    Dr. Bernard Nathanson, Jewish by blood and atheist by faith, was a Canadian American doctor who not only advocated for the legalization of abortion, but who also, with his own hands, aborted two of his own children. He is considered the “father” of the legalization of abortion in America, which culminated in the judicial decisions remembered today. One day in the mid-1970s, a doctor friend invited Nathanson to hold the ultrasound imaging paddle on a woman’s belly as the doctor aborted her child. Nathanson was horrified at what was displayed on the ultrasound screen. The baby was vigorously flailing, trying to avoid the doctor’s instruments, pushing against the sharp objects jabbing his body. And then the baby’s mouth opened in a silent scream for help. Soon after, Dr. Nathanson gave up his lucrative abortion practice. And years later, after long and painful soul searching, Dr. Nathanson bowed his head to receive the waters of baptism in the Catholic Church, a real religion that forgives real sins.

    Abortion corrupts all that it touches: family life, relationships between men and women, politicians, courts, doctors and nurses, and public life in general, which has become more hardened to the sufferings and vulnerabilities of those on the margins. But most of all, abortion has harmed every woman who has had one. There are psychological repercussions to the unnatural end of any pregnancy, but most especially when that end is violent, willful, and paid for by the one it harms. When the natural maternal instinct to nurture and protect is so violated, mom may never recover. The wound remains open. The healing is long and partial.

    In this liturgical memorial, we commemorate an anniversary. So…Happy Anniversary, Abortion. You deceive, you divide, you destroy. You are darkness, and you are death. You are the bloody nose on the beautiful face of America. We pray that someday people will only speak about you in hushed tones, behind closed doors, whispering “abortion” like a dirty word. Happy Anniversary, Abortion; you are the pride in the devil’s grin.

    Heavenly Father and Mother Mary, today we storm heaven with our prayers, fasting, and almsgiving in the hope that all unborn children will be protected in law so that they can grow into the men and women you planned them to be.
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    6 mins
  • January 22: Saint Vincent, Deacon and Martyr

    January 22: Saint Vincent, Deacon and Martyr
    Jan 22 2026
    January 22: Saint Vincent, Deacon and Martyr
    Late Third Century–c. 304
    Memorial; Liturgical Color: Red
    Patron Saint of vintners, brickmakers, and sailors

    A Deacon’s bloody witness impresses the Christian world

    There are a few famous saints who bear the name Vincent. Today’s saint is the first Vincent. He was a deacon from the town of Zaragoza, Spain. Zaragoza hosts a famous shrine to Our Lady of the Pillar based on an appearance of the Virgin Mary there so ancient that it is more precisely described as a bilocation. Saint Vincent certainly knew of this devotion in his hometown. So although Saint Vincent is an early saint, he was from a city that, in 300 A.D., already boasted of a mature Christian tradition.

    As with so many martyrs whose names are known to us, Vincent died in the persecution of Diocletian, the last gasps of a dying paganism. Vincent and his bishop were imprisoned around 303 and taken in chains to Valencia on Spain’s Mediterranean coast. The bishop was exiled, but Vincent was subjected to such cruel and varied tortures that he died of his wounds. Tradition says that the faithful came to his cell during his sufferings seeking relics, even dipping cloths into his bloody wounds.

    Although pious oral traditions led medieval authors to embroider some of the details of the Church’s early saints and martyrs, the core facts of these narratives almost always have support. In Vincent’s case, no less an authority than Saint Augustine gave homilies on Saint Vincent which have been preserved. In these, Augustine states that he has the official acts recounting Vincent’s martyrdom right in front of him as he is speaking. That interesting anecdote, a kind of live shot of Augustine preaching, is a wonderful proof of how widespread devotion to Vincent was in the early Church, even far from where he died.

    Ordained permanent deacons disappeared from the life of the church for many centuries, only to be reintroduced in the decades after the Second Vatican Council. Yet deacons’ key roles in preaching, serving the poor, evangelizing, and acting as delegates of their bishops are clear from the Acts of the Apostles and Saint Paul’s letters. As early as the second century after Christ, the three Orders constituting the Sacrament of Holy Orders were already clearly identified and theologically developed, especially in the letters of Saint Ignatius of Antioch. Ignatius saw each Order as participating, in a different way, in the one priesthood of the High Priest Jesus Christ.

    It must be remembered that Vincent was a deacon and was imprisoned along with the bishop who ordained him. He must have understood the harmony and interdependence that God intended to exist among deacons, priests, and bishops. This emphasis on Sacramental Orders underlines the fact that, although early Christians may have experienced more astounding gifts of the Holy Spirit than later Christians, it was still a living connection to an Apostle, not a personal charism, that authenticated and guaranteed one’s participation in the true body of Christ. Gifts were personal and private. They came and went. They could not be verified or even shared. But each bishop was linked to an Apostolic See, and bishops publicly ordained priests and deacons to share the duty to teach, govern, and sanctify the baptized. There was nothing private about any of that.

    Early Christianity was not a haphazard grouping of people who loved Jesus. It received a hierarchical structure from Christ Himself and immediately perpetuated, and built upon, Jewish forms of religious community life. The Church’s hierarchical community life continues today. Saint Vincent undoubtedly saw his ordination as a form of service, not power. He was undoubtedly a man of great importance to his bishop. He likely gave generous witness to the Faith before he offered up his earthly life for a richer life beyond the grave.

    Saint Vincent, help all deacons to know, love, and serve God with all their heart, soul, and mind. Few people are called to be tortured for the faith as you were, but suffering may come in more subtle ways. Help us to persevere in the face of all challenges so that we deepen our trust in God.
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    5 mins
  • January 21: Saint Agnes, Virgin & Martyr

    January 21: Saint Agnes, Virgin & Martyr
    Jan 21 2025
    January 21: Saint Agnes, Virgin and Martyr
    c. 291–c. 304
    Memorial; Liturgical Color: Red or White
    Patron Saint of young girls, rape victims, and chastity

    A child knows that God is a person who deserves to be loved

    The names of only the earliest saints and martyrs are embedded in the Roman Canon, Eucharistic Prayer I. Saint Agnes is among those listed (Felicity, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia, etc.). Devotion to Agnes as both Virgin and Martyr is of ancient origin and is specifically mentioned by fourth-century writers, including Pope Damasus. A basilica was built as early as the reign of Constantine over the catacombs where Saint Agnes’ relics were deposited. A later structure, with an ancient mosaic showing Saint Agnes, is still an active church on that exact same site today. The mobs of tourists and pilgrims who crowd the eternal city, and who shuffle through Piazza Navona today, may not realize that they are walking by the very site where Agnes was martyred. The beautiful Baroque Church of Saint Agnes on Piazza Navona reminds the discerning pilgrim that our saint met her death at that exact spot.

    Agnes was of a tender age when she was killed. She was just a girl. Tradition says that she was beautiful and wanted to dedicate her virginity to the Lord, despite numerous suitors desirous of her beauty. She was killed, then, both for her faith and for her steadfastness in refusing to violate her vow of chastity. It was a double martyrdom, made all the sweeter because of her youth. With poetic license and rhetorical power, Saint Ambrose imagines Saint Agnes’ final moments: “You could see fear in the eyes of the executioner, as if he were the one condemned; his right hand trembled; his face grew pale as he saw the girl’s peril; while she had no fear for herself. One victim but a twin martyrdom to modesty and to religion. Agnes preserved her virginity and gained a martyr’s crown.”

    When making solemn vows at his ordination, a man marries the Church so that he can make her fruitful. But a woman’s religious vows make her a spouse of Christ Himself. A man marries the Church; a woman marries Christ. This beautiful bridal imagery speaks the human language of love and commitment. God is a person, not just a prime mover or a higher power. So He loves us like a person, and we love Him back like a person. Part of this love is jealousy. God is a jealous spouse. He wants total commitment from those who have dedicated their lives to Him. He demands total fidelity. In extreme cases, even to the point of death. Little Saint Agnes understood all of this with girlish simplicity united to a will of iron. Innocence alongside maturity. Chastity alongside toughness. Beauty holding hands with death.

    Saint Agnes, help all young people commit themselves to Christ when young, giving Him the most fruitful years of their lives. Inspire them to say “Yes” to God and not just “No” to the world. Help all to see that although life is a gift, there are greater things than life, such as God in His glory.
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    4 mins
  • January 20: Saint Sebastian, Martyr

    January 20: Saint Sebastian, Martyr
    Jan 20 2025
    January 20: Saint Sebastian, Martyr
    Late Third Century
    Optional Memorial; Liturgical Color: Red
    Patron Saint of athletes, soldiers, and victims of the plague

    A Roman soldier makes a rugged convert and stoic martyr

    The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ and the Annunciation of the Archangel Gabriel to the Virgin Mary are the most universally depicted scenes in Christian art. There is perhaps not a Catholic church the world over which does not house one or the other image, and often both. But today’s saint, Sebastian, follows close behind in terms of popularity and ubiquity. The iconic presentation of the wounded Sebastian shows his hands and arms bound to a post, his head tilted, and his almost naked body filled with arrows.

    It is a powerfully evocative image. It suggests that the archers took their time. They were not rushed. They did not act in the heat of anger. Criminal psychologists have observed that killers only cover the faces of victims who they know. Otherwise, killers don’t mind watching their victims suffer and die. It seems that with Sebastian there was no hooded executioner. No anonymous hangman. The men in Sebastian’s firing squad must have gazed right into his eyes before they unleashed the tension in their bows. And when their arrows buried themselves in Sebastian’s torso, the archers must have heard his low moans. Perhaps there was an element of recrimination in all of this. Perhaps it was personal.

    Sebastian was a soldier in the higher echelons of the Roman army. After his conversion to Catholicism, he went to Rome, around the year 300, likely seeking martyrdom. We can imagine that his fellow soldiers understood his conversion as betrayal or disloyalty to the empire and that this explains the unique manner of the assassination attempt. But, in the end, the attempt was a failure. Saint Sebastian, a rugged soldier, survived the arrows, was nursed back to health by Saint Irene, and later earned the martyr’s crown after being clubbed to death.

    By the year 300 A.D., the Roman Emperors’ attempts to eradicate Christianity were too little too late. Nobles, senators, slaves, cobblers, carpenters, men, women, foreigners, and natives had all converted. They were men and women of every class and occupation. By 300 A.D., Christians comprised a significant portion of people at every level of society, up and down and around every Roman road. When high-placed soldiers such as Saint Sebastian were willing to die for Christ, it was a sign there was no going back to Rome’s pagan roots. All that was needed was a Christian Emperor to solidify the change. That would come soon enough in the person of Constantine. Sebastian’s heroic death was a harbinger of a world about to change. Saint Sebastian’s martyrdom was so widely known that he was honored through the construction of a Church on the Appian Way just outside of Rome. The church is still visited by pilgrims today, along with the Christian catacombs beneath it. His legacy carries on!

    Saint Sebastian, we ask your intercession to fortify all those who are weak in their faith. You gave heroic witness in leaving a high station to accept a near martyrdom and then returned to suffer and die once and for all. Give us the grace to face our enemies when our weak nature wants to run the other way.
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    4 mins
  • January 20: Saint Fabian, Pope and Martyr

    January 20: Saint Fabian, Pope and Martyr
    Jan 19 2026
    January 20: Saint Fabian, Pope and Martyr
    c. 200–250
    Optional Memorial; Liturgical Color: Red
    Patron Saint of Rome

    The popes of the third century knew how to die

    In the present-day suburbs of Rome, tour buses navigate winding, narrow, tree-lined roads to carry modern pilgrims to the Catacombs of St. Callixtus. The pilgrims descend a steep staircase until they find themselves in a vast, dark, underground space. The pilgrims slowly walk by early Christian graffiti blanketing the walls to their right and to their left. Marble scraps of early Christian tombstones have etched upon them Greek and Latin epigraphs briefly describing whom they honor. In 1850 an archaeologist working in the St. Callixtus Catacombs discovered, incredibly, just such a small chunk of marble with the following simple epitaph: “Fabian, Bishop, Martyr.” The epitaph confirmed the tradition that Fabian’s lifeless body was carried in procession to these Catacombs shortly after his death in 250 A.D. In the early 1700s, Pope Fabian’s relics were transferred to the nearby Church of Saint Sebastian, where they can be found today.

    According to Eusebius of Caesarea, who wrote a detailed history of the Church about fifty years after Pope Fabian’s time, Fabian was a layman who went to Rome after the death of the previous pope. He was elected Bishop of Rome due to a miraculous sign. In other words, Fabian did not strive to his high office. He did not seek to be important. He accepted his role in the full knowledge that it could lead to big trouble for him. And that trouble eventually found him.

    A third-century letter of Saint Cyprian to the deacons and priests of Rome confirms the virtuous life and courageous death of Pope Fabian. Fabian reigned as Pope for fourteen years before being martyred in 250 A.D. The Roman Emperor Decius was his killer. Decius’ persecution was vicious but not universal. He tried to kill the body of the Church by cutting off the head, and so sought the Pope’s blood. But Decius’ ambitious project was never realized. About sixty-five years later, one of Decius’ successors, Constantine, would legalize Christianity, bringing to an end almost three hundred years of on-again, off-again persecution.

    We can only imagine what it would be like today if the Pope were to be imprisoned and killed by the Prime Minister of Italy. Imagine the outcry! A secular power actively persecuting a religious leader! Yet perhaps such events are not so unimaginable. Pope Saint John Paul II was shot, and almost killed, in 1981, probably due to dark communist forces rooted in Eastern Europe. Assassins still exist, and popes are still their targets.

    Pope Fabian’s martyrdom shows why the Church survived its early and vicious persecutions—it had leaders who knew how to die. Great deaths don’t follow shallow lives. The early popes didn’t give up or give in. They didn’t renounce the faith. They were fearless. They felt the cold, sharp metal of a knife against their neck and stood firm. A religious society with such models of courage in its highest ranks had to survive. And it did survive. We are living proof of that.

    Saint Fabian, your papal death proved to the faithful that their leaders personally accepted what they demanded of others. Slaves, prisoners, women, outcasts, and popes all died for the faith. Help us, Fabian, to be further links in the Church’s long chain of Christian witnesses.
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    5 mins
  • January 17: Saint Anthony of the Desert, Abbot

    January 17: Saint Anthony of the Desert, Abbot
    Jan 15 2025
    January 17: Saint Anthony of the Desert, Abbot
    251–356
    Memorial; Liturgical Color: White
    Patron Saint of butchers, skin diseases, gravediggers, and swine

    A solitary monk trades the world for the desert sands

    Many extraordinary people who live heroic, path-breaking lives remain unknown to posterity for one simple reason—no one writes their biography. How many other saints, heroes, and martyrs would be known to mankind if just one witness to their actions had put pen to paper! Just one author is needed to introduce a great man to subsequent generations. Today’s saint may have been forgotten forever—and may have wanted to remain unknown. But a talented and famous contemporary of his wrote what he knew. Saint Athanasius, the provocative champion of orthodoxy at the Council of Nicea, wrote a short biography of his fellow Egyptian, The Life of Saint Anthony the Great. Saint Athanasius’ work was so widely shared, and so often translated, that it was never lost to history. It has preserved Saint Anthony’s memory down to the present.

    The first three centuries of the Church saw sporadic persecutions of Christianity, which at times turned vicious. These spasms of violence against Christians produced a large class of martyrs, many of whose last words and sufferings were recorded in official Roman judicial documents or in the written testimonies of witnesses. As Christianity was legalized at the start of the fourth century, martyrdom ceased to be the primary form of Christian witness. A new form of radical Christian discipleship emerged—the witness of total isolation, fasting, prayer, and penance of the desert fathers. These monks retreated into remote places to lead solitary lives of dedication to Christ. Foremost among these desert fathers was Saint Anthony of the Desert. He was not the first ascetic, but he was one of the first to take the radical decision to retreat into the desert.

    Saint Anthony had money and property as a young man. But upon hearing at Mass the words of Christ to the rich young man to “...go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasures in heaven," Anthony decided to seek not silver or bronze but pure gold. He sold his goods, he removed himself from all temptation except those intrinsic to human nature, he battled the devil, he fasted, he prayed, and he even actively sought martyrdom. He became famous for being holy. Saint Anthony preceded Saint Benedict by two hundred years. He offers us an example of being a monk outside of a community of fellow monks in a monastery. He sought Christ alone while living alone. Alone in the desert, without family, community, or money, listening to the howling winds at night. Alone to the world, he clung to the only person who truly mattered—God Himself.

    Saint Anthony’s path of holiness is both radical and refined. It is for few people to walk. But he was the first to walk it so well. Anthony shows us that being alone, stripped of all worldly concerns, is a sort of rehearsal for death, where we will meet God alone, every last thread tying us to the world having been cut.

    Saint Anthony, we ask your intercession to help us cling to God alone. Help us to strip ourselves of those needs and concerns which stuff our lives from morning to night. Help us not to be distracted from the one thing, the only thing, the last thing—God Himself.
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    5 mins