The Catholic Sun :: Phoenix Diocesan Newspaper

Our family’s garage would be more like the “before” picture. A wrecked car that my husband and son plan to resurrect, bikes with flat tires and assorted junk piles are testaments to our lengthy to-do list.

On Holy Thursday afternoon I was in there, poking around and looking for something important. I was saying a prayer to the Holy Spirit a priest taught me years ago when suddenly I heard a blood-curdling scream coming from inside the house. My husband dashed inside with me in hot pursuit. There, standing on the old couch in our living room was our youngest son, sobbing, with his foot wedged inside the furniture’s metal frame.

Dad was able to pull the little guy’s foot out, thank heavens, and all I could do was sit there, kissing the angry welt that arose. With five sons, I’ve seen my share of “boo-boos” over the years, and this one wasn’t too bad. An ice pack and a friendly reminder about not jumping on the furniture would suffice.

It was later that evening while at the Mass of the Last Supper that the emotion of that scene came flooding back to me, this time with a different perspective.

Our pastor, a priest of many years, got down on his hands and knees and tenderly began to wash the feet of 12 parishioners. I don’t recall ever seeing a priest do what this faithful servant did next: He bent and kissed each person’s foot.

This humble gesture of love spoke to my heart and made me realize that our priests, in many ways, are like a parent who comforts a child in pain. I thought of the many times priests have shown such care and concern for my family, and the families of so many others over the years. And on Holy Thursday, when we thank God for the gift of the priesthood, it seemed like the perfect time to stop and give thanks for their selfless service.

It’s not something that comes naturally to people living in a media-saturated world where the sins of a few priests have often taken center stage and the heroic virtue of the majority has been ignored.

All my life I’ve been surrounded by good priests whose teaching and ministry have nurtured my faith.

Growing up just a block from Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Scottsdale, I remember my parents often inviting the clergy to our home and getting quizzed on my catechism in preparation for First Communion.

My mother’s cousin, Fr. Joe Curran, a priest from the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, often visited us, too. He would say home Masses for us and let the children be his altar servers and lectors.

I think also of the times priests have been there in my darkest hour. I’ll never forget the one who came to the hospital when my newborn son hovered between life and death with a serious illness. My baby’s tiny body, ashen and hooked up to various tubes, was fighting an infection and the doctor told us it was 50-50 as to whether he’d make it through the night. Fr. Roberto Corral, OP, brought the best medicine of all: the anointing of the sick and encouragement.

Most of all I think of Fr. Jim Kelleher, whom I met when I was just 16 years old. He was a seminarian then and like me, was praying outside an abortion clinic in downtown Phoenix. A friendship was born that to this day, inspires me and challenges me to live the Catholic faith more deeply.

These are just a few of the men who lay down their lives for us, who humbly serve and gently call us to holiness. They accept us, along with our messy garages, sometimes-unruly children and broken hearts. These are the priests we love and admire and rarely thank. May the Lord bless and keep them always.

MARCH 20, 2008

Heavens to Betsy: You’ve run the race

Every once in a great while, you meet a person who touches your heart and teaches you about the love of God. On page 15 you’ll read the story of one such woman, and it’s one you won’t soon forget.

The “Your Catholic Neighbor” series has carried me all over the diocese, meeting the unsung heroes among us who quietly go about doing God’s will in a wide variety of ministries and professions. It’s been a blessing to get to know each person.

Betsy Rodiles came to my house for an interview just six weeks ago. There was a beauty and grace that radiated from her, and she spoke with a confident faith.

We sat there in my family room that morning and she told me all about the work she does for Pure Fashion and 1st Way Pregnancy Center. I told her that as the mother of five boys, I wanted to know what it was like to be the mother of a teenage daughter.

The answer took me by surprise. Her eyes filled with tears and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. Gabriela, she told me, was her only child. “I’m honored to be her mother,” she said. “That God would choose me to be the mother of such a beautiful girl…” she added, her voice trailing off.

I like to do my work well in advance, so it was only this week — over a month after writing it — that it was time to submit the story about Betsy for publication.

I looked over some of the many photos I’d snapped of Betsy that day, thinking how photogenic she was, and then I checked my e-mail. The usual array of bills and correspondence awaited me. I opened the first one and gasped.

Betsy Rodiles, 46, 5k-runner and the picture of good health, had passed away in the blink of an eye. “No!” I shouted at the computer screen as the tears fell, but it was true.

More than 1,000 people attended the funeral, among them her elderly parents, seven siblings, and the many people whose lives she touched. The motorcade was over a mile long. A man in North Dakota, her home state, lives because he received Betsy’s kidney. And the Web site to honor her had over 6,000 hits in the first week since she died.

Particularly poignant for me was that the funeral took place on the same date as my 22nd wedding anniversary. The paschal mystery, the life, death and resurrection cycle was foremost in my mind as I sat and prayed and grieved over Betsy’s passing.

Then I looked up and saw that the female vocalist was the same person who’d sent me the e-mail — and indeed the same clear, sweet voice that sang at my wedding Mass all those years ago. And she was singing “Gentle Woman,” just as she did that day.

Suddenly I felt very close to Betsy, and indeed all my loved ones who’d passed away. The priest said that our beloved are even closer to us when they’re on the other side of the door that leads into eternity.

They’re with us at each Eucharist. As I received Jesus in the Host, I felt the communion of the saints surrounding the whole Church.

What can we learn from such tragedy? That life is short, and we must cherish each moment, cherish each person who enters our lives. That we need to forgive from the heart each person who has hurt us — before it’s too late. That life must be lived, just as Betsy’s was, in generous service. And that we must be ready, for we know not the day nor the hour.

Not surprisingly, Betsy had planned to spend the day she died helping to plant rose bushes at 1st Way alongside the Pure Fashion teens. The girls carried on bravely without her and the “Betsy Rodiles Memorial Rose Garden” will be dedicated just after Easter. I can’t think of a more appropriate tribute.

MARCH 6, 2008

Inspiring the Masses

All you need is God, but a guitar helps, too

Although I was just a newborn baby when the Beatles debuted, I still know the lyrics to most of their songs. They were arguably one of the greatest rock bands ever and their music continues to be popular to this day.

So when I saw the news about Paul McCartney and Heather Mills’ divorce, it struck me as ironic that 40 years ago, Beatlemania preached “all you need is love” to a generation seemingly bent on breaking every rule of Western civilization. Apparently once the “love” fades, you need millions, too.

Nevertheless, we can’t deny the overall positive influence of music on our lives. Think of the ever-popular “You’ve Got a Friend,” or “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” and instantly you have a glimpse of what the best music does: it inspires us to goodness, faithfulness and sacrifice.

The finest songs and lyrics have a way of touching our hearts and instilling truths. When the beauty of music is combined with faith, a powerful tool for evangelization is born. That is why, hundreds of years later, many people grow teary eyed when they hear “Amazing Grace.”

It is also why, 24 years later, I smile when I hear my kids and their dad playing the guitar together. It may sound corny, but it was my husband’s guitar playing and singing that brought us together as young, idealistic college students at the All Saints Newman Center at Arizona State University.

And I’m not the only one.

Many readers may not realize it, but ASU’s Newman Center was the launching pad for a slew of talented musicians here in the Diocese of Phoenix. A few weeks ago, some of them gathered for the first time in years to talk about old times and naturally, indulge in an hours-long jam session.

The names are familiar to those who follow the liturgical music scene: Hillebrand, Smith, Cortez, Burba, Lukert, Jeffery, and my husband, Pipo Coronel, who can all trace their music ministry’s roots — and their marriages — to a late ’70s and early ’80s involvement in music for the college campus ministry.

Church leaders

The collective, combined experience of this group of friends is a whopping 200 years plus of music ministry in this diocese, with 13 parishes served, 7 schools in which they’ve taught or ministered, 35 albums, countless weddings, baptisms, funerals and concerts and amazingly, 28 children, nearly all of whom are musicians themselves.

Jaime Cortez, longtime music director at Mesa’s St. Bridget Parish and music teacher at Queen of Peace, says “faith was the common thread, but music was the cement that held us together” as a group.

Tim Smith, who directs music at St. Mary Parish in Chandler, said he and his wife Julie have sung and played at numerous sacramental events. “You step into intimate moments in people’s lives. It’s a gift to you and it’s a gift to others, too,” he noted.

Paul Hillebrand, music director at St. Patrick Parish in Scottsdale, has fond memories, too. “It’s kind of amazing to think that we’ve all been able to do so many different things. Everyone here had this deep conversion in their late teens and 20s and then there was a lot fun, too,” he said.

But perhaps the greatest part of the evening was seeing the families’ children, ages 6 to 20, jamming with the rest of the group. These gifted young musicians are poised to carry the torch forward and touch hearts with the gift of song — a gift destined to lead many in this diocese, and beyond, to Christ. As a famous baby boomer once said, “The beat goes on.”

The audacity of hype: Arizona governor, Planned Parenthood old friends

Posted February 7, 2008

Have you ever noticed how people love to get freebies? My five children will stand in line at the gym to receive a granola bar that tastes more like a paper bag just because it’s free.

I’m not much different: When I heard the hype about Gov. Janet Napolitano wanting to provide complimentary college educations to every “B” student in the state, I’ll admit my heart skipped a beat.

Then I remembered our governor — who has her eyes on the U.S. Senate in 2010 and has just thrown her weight behind presidential contender Barak Obama — is the biggest supporter of abortion this state has ever seen. On second thought, I’ll keep investigating college scholarship possibilities.

Stark contrast

While local Catholics were responding to Bishop Thomas J. Olmsted’s proclamation of a day of penance, prayer and fasting on Jan. 22 in light of the notorious Roe v. Wade decision (The Catholic Sun, Jan. 17), our governor quietly took part in celebrating Roe with her friends from Planned Parenthood at their annual luncheon on Jan. 18. Far from being a day of penance, it was an occasion to celebrate and honor the legacy of Planned Parenthood.

It’s quite a legacy.

Planned Parenthood, founded by a woman who promoted eugenics as a way of ridding society of “undesirable” persons.

Planned Parenthood, the single largest provider of abortion in the world.

Planned Parenthood, which took in $882 million in 2005.

Planned Parenthood, which received $272 million dollars in 2006 in government grants and contracts.

Napolitano announced at the luncheon that she will reject federal funding for abstinence-until-marriage programs in public schools. After pushing states for years to reject the program, Planned Parenthood has scored another victory in Arizona with our governor.

Troubling history

Back in 1999 when she was Arizona attorney general, Janet Napolitano made sure a 14-year-old girl who was 28 weeks pregnant was stealthily transported to Wichita, Kan., courtesy of Planned Parenthood, for a late-term abortion. Despite public outrage and numerous offers to help the young mother — including the promise of a free college education — Napolitano made a Sunday-morning end-run around the public and the life of an unborn child was extinguished.

The governor’s friends at Planned Parenthood know that one of their biggest sources of revenue comes from the abortions performed at their clinics. They’re using some of their funds to support pro-abortion candidates who will vote to pass the Freedom of Choice Act, which, if passed, will overturn pro-life laws and create an absolute right to abortion that would override any other law.

As important as elections are in this battle to protect human life, however, prayer and fasting are key. Local Catholics can prayerfully unite with others in an exciting new movement dubbed “40 Days for Life.”

According to Anita Usher, an organizer for the Phoenix effort, more than 350 babies were saved and three abortion workers resigned their positions from Planned Parenthood during the last “40 Days” campaign. She said the Web site for the movement, www.40daysforlife.com/phoenix, has been flooded with inquiries, and there are 24-hour prayer vigils scheduled at eight local clinics.

Catholics must not be silent in the face of their governor’s audacity to hype free education for college kids on the one hand while simultaneously working to decimate the ranks of tomorrow’s college students. Please join the efforts of 40 Days for Life beginning on Ash Wednesday to pray for an end to abortion.

Here’s a New Year’s resolution: ‘Heart surgery’ for everyone

Posted January 18, 2008

Tune in to the news for more than a minute or two and you’re sure to come away with a sense of foreboding, even as you try to stick to those New Year’s resolutions.

In-depth reports of shootings, gang violence, tragic diseases and dire warnings about global warming fill the newspapers and can make even the most stout-hearted Christian believers more than a bit uneasy. Our world is certainly a troubled place and evil seems to strike at every turn.

The bookstores and libraries are full of self-help books, proving that not only are we beset by troubles, there’s a handsome profit in trying to help us overcome them. At the same time, our enemy the devil, liar that he is, prowls the world seeking the ruin of souls and working alongside secular humanists to destroy hope and faith in God. We live in a time in which our culture worships science and the material world and in which atheism, once relegated to dark corners, now seems to be quite fashionable. “The Golden Compass” may be a box-office flop, but the steady drumbeat of hostility toward Christianity drones on.

What if you found out there’s a remedy for all of this hopelessness and that it’s both free and widely available? All it requires is that we submit ourselves to what I like to call a one-hour “heart surgery.” Thankfully, you don’t need insurance for this procedure. Better still, the Doctor is on-call 24/7. Who performs this delicate surgery? Jesus Christ, ever-present in the Blessed Sacrament.

Adoration brings healing

Here’s a promise that is 100-percent guaranteed to be fulfilled: spend one hour a week in the company of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and you will begin to see subtle, lasting changes in your life. How can I be so sure of this? I’ve experienced the healing power of eucharistic adoration in a profound and concrete way. I hope that if you are taking the time to read this, you will sense God calling you to this simple and effective means of finding peace, healing and balance in your life.

There comes a time in everyone’s journey when a problem seems so insurmountable that nothing we do seems to resolve it. You don’t have to look hard for problems like these — they’re part of human existence — and they present an opportunity to grow in compassion and grace. It’s when the chips are down and all seems lost that we who believe in the mercy of God surrender everything to Him, utterly despondent over our human inability to effect change.

Addiction, serious illnesses, wayward children, financial woes, broken marriages — there is not a single problem on our list that is too much for God. Nothing is too big or too small for Him. He wants us to pour out our hearts to Him and know that He is present in every trial, ready to support us, willing to carry us if necessary.

Just sitting in His presence, being open to the healing and love that gushes forth from His Sacred Heart, has a way of consoling us that nothing and no one else can. We quiet our minds and hear His gentle voice asking us to trust, forgive, show mercy, share, love, serve. Those are words He’s always saying — if only we’ll listen.

As the New Year begins, before we get bogged down in the day-to-day pressures of life, before the headlines tell us of more murder and mayhem, let’s fall to our knees and fall into the arms of the Savior who humbly dwells among us in the Blessed Sacrament. He is our peace in the midst of this present darkness.

NOVEMBER 1, 2007

Shoppers beware: Trilogy of children’s books attacks Church

I don’t know about you, but my family’s mailbox is usually chock-full of stuff, and it’s mostly bills and junk mail.

In my hyper-vigilant quest to thwart identity-theft crooks, I keep our shredder busy as I sort through piles of correspondence.

The day I received a notice from the Catholic League, however, I pushed everything else aside to read a letter from the group’s president, William Donohue. His letter caught my eye right away because it had to do with an issue near and dear to my heart: children’s books.

My kids know not to ask me for help with their math homework — I once “helped” our third-grader get most of the answers wrong on an assignment — but language is definitely my thing. Sometimes I feel like I’m on a doomed, one-woman mission to eliminate the sentence “Where you at?” from the parlance.

The Catholic League letter warns parents about a trilogy of books titled “His Dark Materials,” written by a militant British atheist named Philip Pullman.

The books capitalize on young readers’ love for well-written fantasy, and although many critics admit the series’ pervasive anti-Catholic themes, the trilogy has received rave reviews.

This Dec. 7, New Line Cinema and Scholastic Entertainment have teamed up to produce a movie called “The Golden Compass,” based on the first book in Pullman’s trilogy.

The first book gets readers hooked on the series, and it’s really the third book that contains the most virulent assault on the Catholic Church. By then, readers are quite captivated by the story.

While the atheism and anti-Catholicism of the stories have been largely eliminated from the film (much to the chagrin of disappointed secular humanists), the worry is that parents will purchase the trilogy for their children, unaware of the more despicable aspects of the books, particularly the third in the series, “The Amber Spyglass.”

As much as I admire the Catholic League’s work, in fairness to readers of this newspaper, I decided to check out Pullman’s books on my own to see if they are as contemptuous of our faith and Church as claimed. What I found was a sickening attack on Catholicism that is being packaged as wholesome fantasy in a devious attempt to undermine children’s innocence and faith.

While it’s no secret that there are people in this world whose intent it is to hurt children, I am appalled at this author’s unabashed effort to destroy the faith of little kids. Frankly, it brings to mind Jesus’ admonition about the millstone to be hung around the necks of those who would lead little ones astray.

Pullman himself states, “My books are about killing God… I’m trying to undermine the basis of Christian belief.”

Make no mistake about it: This is not the Harry Potter debate revisited. The Pullman books portray priests as evil, disgusting and murderous and the Church as a repressive, power-hungry, tyrannical force that must be fought. God is described as “demented and powerless.”

Books are a powerful influence and good ones often inspire love, faith and courage in a child.

Pullman’s trilogy, on the other hand, has the potential to seduce children and plant seeds of atheism in their souls. It is a huge responsibility of parents to provide the former and prevent the latter.

As retailers gear up for “holiday” shoppers (do be sure to heartily wish them a very Merry Christmas, by the way) please be forewarned about Pullman’s trilogy, “His Dark Materials.”

With so many great books out there to kindle children’s faith, it would be a shame to support an author whose work aims to destroy it.

For more information, visit www.CatholicLeague.org.

October 4, 2007

Foolish pursuit of the ‘perfect’ baby:

World diminished by loss of Down Syndrome population

A few months ago when I began writing a series of stories titled “Your Catholic Neighbor” for this newspaper, it occurred to me that with more than half a million Catholics in the diocese, I’d never run out of people to interview. And while I’ve been blessed to meet people from many different professions and tell their stories, none has touched me as profoundly as Mickey Bruns. You can read about him on page 13 of this issue.

In the world’s eyes, he’s not all that impressive. He doesn’t have a college degree or a job, but we could all learn a lot from the way he lives his life. The sad thing is, people like Mickey are becoming increasingly rare.

The 52-year-old Maryvale man was born with Down Syndrome and lives with his niece, Pattie Figueroa. After spending over an hour interviewing the two of them, the thing that struck me the most was how lovingly and respectfully they treat each other and how tender their love for God is.

One of the reasons you don’t often see children with Down Syndrome anymore is that prenatal testing allows mothers to find out around 11 weeks into their pregnancies if the child they are carrying has the condition. While some argue that the testing allows women to get used to the idea of raising a child with special needs, the sad reality is that 90 percent of those who are told their baby has the syndrome will choose to abort.

Very often it is well-meaning people — even fellow Catholics — who pressure a woman to abort children who will have lifelong challenges to survive in a world that doesn’t see their intrinsic value. Some mothers of children with the condition say they are asked by complete strangers if they knew ahead of time that they would give birth to such a child. Implied in this rude questioning is the supposition that no sane person would choose such an inconvenience as a child with special needs.

Indeed, Princeton’s infamous ethicist, Peter Singer, asserts that it is one’s social responsibility to do away with a child like Mickey, either by abortion or infanticide. This from the father of the animal rights movement; if only he and those who share his view could spend time with Mickey.

Indeed, the secular media focuses a lot of attention on the awful injustices committed against dogs — think Michael Vick’s dog-fighting scandal or the police dog left to die in a hot car in Chandler — but there is no accompanying outrage regarding the destruction of a vulnerable human population.

Apparently this search-and-destroy mentality of Singer’s is catching on. Last June, a woman in Italy found out that one of the twins she was carrying had Down Syndrome. She chose to abort her less-than-perfect baby, but doctors mistakenly destroyed the unaffected child. Determined to avoid life with a Down child, she subsequently chose to have the other aborted as well.

At a time when medical advances have increased the life expectancy of those with Down Syndrome, we are steadily eliminating people like Mickey from our midst. It is a silent, stealthy campaign which can only be viewed as eugenics, though its practitioners rationalize it’s all for our own good.

Lost in the bloodshed is a group of people who by their gentle spirits and loving hearts mirror the childlike simplicity the Gospel calls us to embrace. When Jesus instructed us to welcome the little children, He didn’t intend IQ tests to provide an exception.

We all have a lot to learn from the innocence and faith of people like Mickey Bruns. The only problem is, we’re destroying them before we ever get the chance.

SEPTEMBER 6, 2007

Bid to remove the past a bust: Icon of injustice should endure

Anyone who has taught in a classroom knows that sometimes it’s the teacher who learns from the students. I’ll never forget the day a 12-year-old boy’s revelation during a lesson in making sacred icons caught me entirely off guard.

As the students completed their drawings and began to let loose with the colored pencils, I wandered through the rows of desks, checking their progress.

Everyone seemed to be doing a nice job, but then I spotted what seemed to be a typical junior high student’s antics.

“May I ask why you’re coloring Jesus’ eyes red?” I inquired of a young man bent over his work.

“Um…” he stammered. “I’m colorblind — I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

Talk about an “open-mouth-insert-foot” moment. To this day, I still cringe when I think of that child’s unnerving reply. It’s a good reminder that we can never take back words once they’re spoken; the best we can do is acknowledge our blunder and apologize. There’s no erasing the past.

Raising colorblind kids

Imagine my surprise a few months ago to discover that one of my own sons is slightly colorblind, that is, he has trouble distinguishing between red and green.

The more I reflected on this new information, I realized that all my kids are colorblind in another sense as well: they fail to distinguish between skin tones and count as friends children of all races.

As my older children became fifth-graders, they studied American history and the infamous Dred Scott decision of the U.S. Supreme Court. When I explain it to them, their reaction is always the same: utter shock and disbelief.

The decision held that a slave, Dred Scott, was only three-fifths of a person. It’s similar to the mental gymnastics required by the court in Roe v. Wade that held human personhood did not extend to the unborn child. The innocent eyes of children see such legalistic chicanery for what it is: sheer nonsense.

Just as the court eventually reversed itself on slavery, we can hope and pray for a reversal when it comes to abortion. When that happens — and I firmly believe it will — we will need to remember and understand how our society’s acceptance of dehumanization began.

Learning from injustice

That brings us to an ongoing controversy in Frederick, Md., where the NAACP is demanding city hall remove a bust of Roger Taney, the first Catholic Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court. It was Taney’s court that issued the appalling Dred Scott decision.

While some demand that the statue be removed given the terrible injustice wrought by Justice Taney, others say the figure should stay. The pastor of the parish in Maryland where Taney was married in 1806 says, “We can look back and say the decision was a mistake and contrary to the teachings of the Church, but he was still an important historic figure at the time.”

Labeling Taney’s decision a mistake is somewhat of an understatement. “Egregious error” or “entirely opposed to the virtue of justice” are more appropriate descriptions. Still, the pastor makes a valid point.

We cannot undo the past: both George Washington and Thomas Jefferson owned slaves. Are we to remove statues of them as well? Are we really like the Taliban, which in 2001 destroyed the world’s oldest statue of Buddha?

The better course of action would be to allow Taney’s likeness to remain, but add a plaque explaining his role in Dred Scott, thereby preserving — and explaining — history. Beware the well-intentioned revisionists who would sanitize yesteryear. As a famous philosopher once said, “Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.”

Our children need to know that you cannot change history, but you can understand it and work for a better future — one in which each of us will be truly colorblind and all human life will be respected. That’s something to teach at home before a child ever steps foot in a classroom.

Joyce Coronel is a regular contributor to The Catholic Sun. Comments are welcome. Send e-mail to letters@catholicsun.org.

AUG. 2, 2007

Violence against women:
Media fails to connect the dots

I admit it: I’m a news junkie, which is a good thing, considering I work for a newspaper.

As a busy mom of a large family, my only chance to watch broadcast news is while I’m folding mountains of laundry or wearing out the treadmill.

One of the most disturbing trends in news in the last few years is the proliferation of stories about young women and girls abducted, raped and murdered. We’ve seen so many of these sad tales that the names, details and faces begin to blend together into one long nightmare from which we long to awaken.

That’s why it struck me as particularly ironic the other night that while CNN, MSNBC and Fox ran stories on yet another missing woman, CNBC was broadcasting a very complimentary portrait of Hugh Heffner, the founder of the Playboy empire and his connection to the Palms Hotel in Las Vegas. The Catholic Church can never get a break from the secular media, but the man whose publication symbolizes our cultural decay is lionized.

You would have thought the reporter was doing a story on St. Jude’s Hospital for Children. The hour-long program was an uncritical, fawning portrayal of a man who profits from portraying women as playthings to be used and disposed of at will. There were lengthy segments with the journalist, grinning and clearly star-struck, as she interviewed Heffner, his daughter Christine, and business partner George Maloof. What should have been a news report seemed more like a public relations piece.

Whenever I hear people claiming that publications like Playboy are harmless, I wish they could meet the women I’ve known whose marriages have been destroyed by the modern-day scourge of pornography. Or that they would take the time read about serial murderer Ted Bundy. Shortly before his execution, the killer of 50 young women said, “I’ve lived in prison for a long time now and I’ve met a lot of men who were motivated to commit violence. Without exception, every one of them was deeply involved in pornography — deeply consumed by the addiction.”

As if the CNBC program could not get any more ridiculous, the next segment featured soft-pitch questions for Maloof, the man with whom the Heffners have partnered to create the Playboy Tower at the Palms Hotel in Las Vegas. He talked about “family values” as something the Maloofs and the Heffners shared in their working relationship and that the important thing was to “love one another.”

I’m not sure Jesus’ words have ever been used quite in that sense before. The reporter went so far as to draw a comparison between what the Disney brand is to children and what the Playboy brand has become for adults. Something tells me Walt Disney would not appreciate the juxtaposition.

Maybe it’s time to ask some new questions of the porno billionaires: How much has Playboy contributed to the degradation and objectification of women? In presenting females as playthings to be used and discarded on a whim, have they not been a factor in the ever-increasing violent, sexual assaults against women and children?

Perhaps it would be a good idea for CNBC to do a story on the disturbing connection between the widespread addiction to pornography and the savagery committed against those who are the hapless victims of “harmless” fantasy taken a few short steps further into a dark reality.

Serving as PR reps for porno moguls is giving aid and comfort to the enemy. An honest look at the connection between those who profit from cheapening the gift of sexuality and those who victimize the innocent should be a top priority. I’d like to see that story on every channel.

Joyce Coronel is a regular contributor to The Catholic Sun. Comments are welcome. Send e-mail to letters@catholicsun.org.

JULY 3, 2007

Militants murder gentle shepherd
Painful loss for faithful, shining victory for faith

Catholic hearts in the Diocese of Phoenix were filled with joy on June 2 as six men prostrated themselves before the altar at Ss. Simon and Jude Cathedral and became priests. It was the largest class to join the ranks of local Catholic clergy in 14 years and it was big news here in the Valley.

Far from Phoenix, however, a different story concerning Catholic clergy and the faithful was unfolding on another continent. Both compelling and tragic, it received scant attention from the media. A young priest and three subdeacons were gunned down in Iraq June 3 on their way home from Mass. Not many Valley residents were aware of the horrific event that robbed the world of a very holy priest.

Members of the Chaldean Catholic Church in Scottsdale, however, were deeply saddened when they learned of the devastating attack. Chances are, you’ve never even heard of these grief-stricken souls, although they too are fellow Catholics who reside in our Valley.

Chaldean Catholics, based mostly in Iraq and the United States, are under the authority of the pope. They, like the Byzantines, are members of a different rite, and it is one with which few Roman Catholics are familiar. Tucked away in a small church in Scottsdale, the Chaldeans are the only Catholics who celebrate their liturgy in Aramaic, the language that Jesus Christ spoke on earth.

Fr. Paulos Ghozairan, their pastor, has been a priest for 33 years and came to the U.S. in 2000. “We’re a big community of more than 600 families,” he says of his parish, explaining that there are over 130,000 Chaldeans in Michigan and more than 30,000 in California. One of his parishioners is related to the murdered priest, Fr. Ragheed Aziz Ganni.

Fr. Ganni was keenly aware of the danger he faced in continuing to serve Catholics in Mosul, yet he refused to abandon his flock. He, like three of the men who were ordained to the priesthood in Phoenix, had received his first college degree in engineering.

“Without the Eucharist, Christians in Iraq cannot survive,” he said shortly before he was killed.

Fr. Ghozairan places blame for the murders squarely on the shoulders of Islamic terrorists.

“We have many problems in Iraq because they take many priests and they beat them badly, they ask for ransom… they ask them to be Muslim and if they won’t, they kill them or ask them to pay too much to be free.” Ransom amounts are often an impossible $50,000 U.S. dollars. Three priests have been killed and others have been kidnapped.

“They want to kill any priest or deacon,” Fr. Ghozairan explains. Thousands of Chaldean Catholics have fled to neighboring Jordan and Syria. “If they could, they would come here to America to kill me.”

Fr. Ghozairan also tells of laity forced to flee their homes in Iraq because they do not have money to pay the “tax” for refusing to convert to Islam. “Please pray for us and for our community, for peace in Iraq.”

Threats against the martyred Fr. Ganni stretch back to 2004, yet he refused to be conquered by fear. Instead, he continued to minister to his people in spite of great suffering, which he viewed as redemptive.

It may appear as though evil triumphed the day heartless men took the earthly life of Fr. Ganni, but instead of destroying hope, they gave us an inspiring example of a gentle shepherd who laid down his life for his sheep. Hatred cannot extinguish the fire of faith that burns in the hearts of Catholics, for the blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church.

Our newly ordained priests and Catholics of all rites have a new model of courageous service in the face of great danger and suffering. That’s a story worth repeating as often as possible to anyone who will listen.

Joyce Coronel is a columnist for The Catholic Sun. Comments are welcome. Send e-mail to letters@catholicsun.org.

MAY 3, 2007

Motherhood: A thumbnail sketch

After 18 years of staying home raising kids, I’m not exactly the kind of person who would be chosen as a hand model for a big advertiser.

Thousands of diaper changes, myriad kitchen accidents and flower gardening have all taken their collective toll. Still, for reasons that continue to escape me, I recently managed to have 10 longer-than-average fingernails.

Now, for those of you who aren’t moms with young children, a perfect manicure may not seem like much, but believe me, it’s not so easily achieved.

A few months ago, after accepting a part-time job, I opted for a more professional look. Ditching my ever-present t-shirts and jeans, I switched to casual business attire and modestly manicured nails, although only a couple days a week, while the kids are in school.

A co-worker even remarked that she thought my nail polish was rather pretty. Ha! Little did she know I was doomed. Playing basketball with the kids and housework wreaked havoc with my flawless fingertips. So I did what any other female might do the day before wanting to look her best for Easter Sunday: I went to the beauty supply store and bought a set of fake nails.

A nail-biter weekend

In the course of making what would soon become regarded as one of the worst investments of time and money I’ve ever made, some great lessons were learned. The 10 ridiculously long nails were simply stunning — for about five minutes. Then reality set in: How do you tie your little one’s shoelaces? For that matter, how do you buckle a seatbelt? What about typing?

I breathed a sigh of relief as life with five sons came crashing down on my masquerade — one by one, the fake nails were broken.

“Mom, I’m hungry.” “Mom, can we go to the gym?” “Mom, can we dig for worms in the garden?” “Mom, the toilet flooded again!” All of these boyish outbursts and requests collided with the fake fingertips as my hands set to work. Life as a hands-on mother is a labor-intensive enterprise, one that requires a steady grip at all times.

With somewhat unsure hands, we cradle our first newborn’s helpless form. As time goes by, we gradually become more experienced and before long, we’re grasping chubby little hands as our child takes his first steps. Next thing you know, those hard-working, motherly hands are bandaging skinned knees, tenderly bathing giggling pre-schoolers, feverishly stitching costumes for school plays, and definitely white-knuckled as they teach a teenager how to drive (“Let’s take the next turn a little slower this time, OK, honey?”)

Sometimes a mom’s hands shake when she finds out her beloved child is injured or in trouble or has made a foolish decision. Those same hands are clasped in prayer as she begs God for wisdom, courage and strength to gently guide the heart, mind and soul of the one He’s entrusted to her care. A mother’s hands sometimes have to let go and trust that God loves this child even more than she does — after all, they’re His from the beginning.

Real beauty doesn’t chip

The inescapable truth is that being a mother isn’t for wimps. There is no room for faintheartedness or half-measures in this adventure of holy motherhood, for the love of a mother is tender and fierce, all at the same time. Her beauty lies not in her fingertips, but rather in that love she bears for God and the children He allows her to raise for His glory. Broken, damaged and chipped fingernails: counter-cultural badges of honor and properly viewed, the distinguishing mark of a hands-on mom. Happy Mother’s Day.

Joyce Coronel is a columnist for The Catholic Sun. Comments are welcome. Send e-mail to letters@catholicsun.org.

MARCH 1, 2007

A Lenten full-court press
Passion for basketball reveals beauty

In our house, the rule is “no basketball until homework is done.”

Now, this may not strike many people as draconian, except that in our family, it is. You see, each of our five sons has played basketball over the years, but only one of them has a passion for it.

This is a child who gets up early every day to read the sports page in the local paper. If you want to know what any NBA team’s current record is, our little boy can tell you in detail. On days that the Phoenix Suns are playing, there’s a mad dash to finish schoolwork so that he can both play basketball at the gym and watch his favorite team compete on television. That’s why I understood his long face one day a couple of weeks ago when it was my turn to drive the afternoon carpool.

“I have a composition to write,” he announced glumly.

“You’re good at writing, though, so no problem. Right?” I responded, trying to encourage him. The Suns were set to play a formidable opponent that night, and we both wanted to hit the gym, too.

“Yeah, but we have to write about the beauty of God’s creation,” he said. “What am I supposed to write about, anyway?”

In my mind, I was thinking something along the lines of “purple mountain majesties,” but with six kids in tow, I just wanted to get us home to an early dinner. You can imagine my amazement upon reading his essay later that evening.

“The beauty of God’s creation is seen in all the people He created,” he wrote. “Some people might not think so, but every person God created is beautiful.” Scanning his words, I was doubtful. Mohammed Atta, terrorist? Jeffrey Dahmer, serial killer? George Tiller, late-term abortionist? Where’s the beauty in those guys?

All afternoon the media had been trumpeting news of the sudden death of Anna Nicole Smith. CNN promised continuing in-depth coverage and Geraldo was busy planning a tell-all special. The demise of the Playboy centerfold who battled for her late, elderly husband’s billion-dollar fortune grabbed headlines around the world.

Somehow, my son in his innocence saw through all of that. He discerned the intrinsic value in every human life.

A buzzer beater

It would be relatively easy, albeit somewhat boring, for an energetic child to write about the grandeur of an Arizona sunset or the hummingbirds that hover over our flower garden, but my child found beauty in humans, fallen and flawed as they are.

He wrote about St. Paul, who made it his mission to persecute early Christians, but went on to become one of the greatest of saints. He wrote about St. Augustine, a man lost in sin for much of his life. He wrote about St. Monica, the mother who never gave up on her wayward son and relentlessly begged God for Augustine’s conversion.

Nevertheless, one has to admit that our modern world has its value system upside down. It’s been suggested by some Christians that our culture has managed to turn every one of the seven deadly sins into a contemporary virtue.

And yet, through all of that, God’s grace abounds. Even the most miserable sinner is still one of God’s creatures. During Lent, Catholics participate in the Stations of the Cross. We say repeatedly, “because by Your holy cross, You have redeemed the world.”

Not “You have redeemed the perfect;” rather, “You have redeemed the world.” The most hardened of hearts can be transformed in the light of God’s love. Those who have experienced the depth of His mercy first-hand are often the most striking examples of holiness. The Lord never gives up on any of us, and neither should we.

I guess you could say He’s engaged in a full-court press pursuit of His lost children’s souls. For some, that might just be a buzzer beater.

Joyce Coronel is a regular contributor to The Catholic Sun.

Perspectives
Feb. 1, 2007

Let not your heart be troubled
God’s love is deeper

Lunches packed and permission slips signed, I turned out the lights and headed down the hall for bed. Whoever coined the phrase, “A mother’s work is never done,” echoed the sentiments of every mommy I know. Before I made it to the bedroom, however, our youngest crawled out of bed to issue an urgent request: “Please, Mom, leave the light on in the kitchen. I don’t like it when the house is all dark!”

Smiling, I agreed and sent him back to the bunk bed he shares with his brother. How well I remember feeling the same way as a child. The clackety-clack of my mother’s sewing machine in the next room, the steady drone of voices from the television set, the reassuring glow of lights that lit up the hallway just outside my door all gave me a sense of security as I drifted off to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t always come so easily to grown-ups who face the heartaches and crosses of this life, however. Without the hope that springs from a steadfast faith and trust in God, it may seem impossible to go on living at times, much less sleep. Still, while the valleys we experience may be deep, the love of God is even deeper.

Tune into the news or people you meet as you go about your day and it seems an attitude of hopelessness permeates the modern world. From “hopeless” diagnoses to “hopeless” family problems to what some say is a “hopeless” war, few people seem ready to trust in God’s providence.

The truth is that God wants us to be full of hope in Him and His promises. He is with us in our pain; He carries us in our weakness and has the answer to every problem. He has promised to never forget or forsake us. He tells us there is life beyond the grave and that He will one day wipe every tear from His children’s eyes.

How well I know these promises to be true; my own heart was greatly wounded by a recent sorrow in our family. Yet the grace poured out in our home during this trial gave us the deepest sense of peace we’ve had in years.

Where do you go when the darkness closes in? Where do you find the light that sets your mind at ease? How do you receive the consolation you long for in your pain? Let me tell you about the wonderful healing presence that touched my heart so deeply I’ll never be the same.

Healing presence

Several months ago, a local artist began painting a mural in the sanctuary at St. Timothy Parish. Completed just before Christmas, it is the most beautiful portrayal of Christ I have ever seen. He is risen, triumphant and glorious, arrayed in dazzling white and returning with justice for the world. An incredible aura of light and color radiates from Him and illuminates the many saints and angels at His side and feet. At the center of this awe-inspiring artwork stands the tabernacle where Jesus, truly present in the Host, resides.

Sometimes I go there when the church is empty just to sit before Him, letting my heart rest in His. The great hope this majestic presence enkindles is beyond any pain the world can inflict. It both throbs and heals in the hearts of those who are blessed to sit and wonder at the gift of an artist who so obviously believes in the Way, the Truth and the Life. How our world longs for such a vision of hope.

It is this great hope we have in God that allows us to face our trials with courage, knowing that He is always at our side. May the beauty of our Prince of Peace touch and inspire many to know and trust in His love.

Joyce Coronel is a columnist for The Catholic Sun.

Perspectives
December 7, 2006

Greatest gift of all: Forgiveness through love

Most of the time, people who write to me have been touched or inspired by one of my columns. Reading those positive e-mails is very encouraging and really makes my day. Every once in a while, though, I’m the target of hate mail. It’s a reminder that those who take the Catholic faith seriously and shine the light of truth on today’s modern cultural rot will inevitably endure contempt and ridicule. I figure I’m in good company, though. After the apostles were flogged for the faith, they left “rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer for the sake of the Name” (Acts 5:41).

Rejoicing took some effort, however, after reading a particularly insulting letter from a reader who took exception to my column on atheism (“The death of atheism,” The Catholic Sun, Oct. 19).

Words are an incredible gift: they can inspire and motivate as easily as they wound and devastate. The disparaging words of his letter were meant to be hurtful — and they were.

The morning after receiving his correspondence, I attended Mass and afterward was meditating before the new crucifix in our sanctuary. A beautiful revelation suddenly dawned on me. The artist who sculpted the corpus had portrayed Jesus’ hands, in spite of being cruelly nailed to the Cross, as raised in blessing. Even in the midst of His agony, our Savior chose to bless and forgive those who brutally murdered Him. His example of heroic forgiveness inspires each of us to let go of the hurts, big and small, that are part of human existence. True forgiveness leads to peace.

Thus encouraged, I wrote back to our unhappy reader, thanking him for his interest and offering my prayers that the Lord would bless him richly and that he would one day know how greatly God loves him. I reasoned that by not responding to his insults but choosing instead to demonstrate Christian charity, he would not fire any more cyberspace missiles. Boy, was I wrong.

His second e-mail was even more hateful. Mockery of the Genesis creation account, the crucifixion, the Eucharist and the comparison of Catholic religious education to the indoctrination that takes place in jihadist madrassas, were just a few of the reader’s complaints. One wonders where this disgruntled person encountered The Catholic Sun? I like to think it was grace that placed the paper in his path and stirred up strong emotions in his troubled soul.

At this point you might be wondering why I would even choose to read, much less respond to, mail like this. The reason is that I’ve known people like our reader: intelligent people who ask lots of probing questions and just can’t or won’t accept that God is real. I’ve also seen those same Doubting Thomases change and become enthusiastic believers when steadfast Christians continue to gently witness to them. Our Lord tells us, “Do good to those who hate you.”

Even though I’ve decided not to communicate further with him — he’s beyond civil discourse — I do pray for this man, who says he was educated in Catholic schools and once served as an altar boy. My heart goes out to his parents who no doubt are heartbroken by a wayward son’s bitter unbelief. My hope is that he will, by the grace of God, encounter other Christians who testify to the tender love of God and the peace, joy and healing that come from Him alone.

The love of Jesus shines in the darkness of a world seemingly gone mad. It is this love that overcomes all darkness and casts out every fear and doubt. May the love and mercy of the newborn King we celebrate at Christmas shine brightly in our lives; may every person come to know Love Himself. Where mere mortal words fail, love will surely prevail.

Joyce Coronel is a columnist for The Catholic Sun.

November 2, 2006

Priest, longtime friend wows families

Weaving our way through the crowded airport that afternoon, we searched for the boyish grin and twinkling eyes of our dear friend, Fr. Jim Kelleher. He had come to Phoenix to speak at the annual Rosary Sunday event and was staying at our house. “There he is!” our 11-year-old called excitedly, “He’s finally here!”

Throughout 26 years of friendship, Fr. Jim has been a guiding light and source of inspiration to me and my family. We met in 1980 at a protest outside an abortion clinic when I was a teenager and he was a young seminarian.

Even though he moved away the following year, we kept in touch and saw each other through the winding roads of our lives. I went to college, began a career and married. “J.K.,” as we called him back then, continued his studies for the priesthood.

Then came lots of changes: the death of his father and the birth of my firstborn. J.K. studied theology at the Angelicum in Rome while I studied books on parenting. He switched religious orders and we moved to a new house. He was ordained a priest and we had our fourth son.

By the time he said his first Mass in his hometown of Ellensburg, Wash., 10 years had elapsed since we’d seen each other. Still, the foundation of our friendship was a love for the Lord and because of that, the passing of years only strengthened our connection.

My newborn son and I traveled to the small town parish of St. Andrew’s, nestled in Washington’s snow-capped mountains, to celebrate that first, unforgettable Mass.

Almost every year now he comes to town and blesses us by staying in our home. The first thing you notice about him is his passion for telling others about the love of our Lord and His Blessed Mother.

He presents a Miraculous Medal to everyone he meets: the truck driver in the elevator who notices his Roman collar, the young lady at the store who make copies for us, neighbors who stop by to visit. All will hear of the marvelous intercession of Our Lady and the graces that are poured out on those who wear her medal with faith.

Once on a trip to communist China, he distributed some 30,000 medals. Next summer, he plans to establish a permanent mission in eastern Siberia. I predict a lot of medals will find their way into Russian hands.

You do a lot of praying when Fr. Jim stays at your house. And no matter how little sleep you’ve had because you stayed up practically all night talking about God, you get up early to say the rosary and attend Mass. He would no more give up the saying of daily Mass than he would give up breathing.

Fr. Jim charmed the children and I dare say their parents at Rosary Sunday by urging them to pray the rosary daily. Singing a simple song he wrote, whose only lyrics are “Pray the rosary — pray the rosary every day,” he has a catchy way of drawing people to God.

“Kids, I’m giving you permission to sing this song to your parents. When your dad is sitting in his easy chair after dinner, reading the paper, I want you to go and whisper this song in his ear.”

The crowd loved it. This is a priest who exudes holiness and courage, a faithful servant who is an inspiration to all he meets. To have him in our home, to watch him play basketball with our sons, to listen to him advise families on the centrality of prayer, all these are profound blessings that fill my heart with a joy beyond understanding.

Joyce Coronel is a columnist for The Catholic Sun.

The death of atheism
October 19, 2006

The professor’s eyes flashed as he spoke intently to a room full of young college students on the first day of class: “I’m going to tell you the cause of all the world’s wars and troubles.” Turning, he scrawled a single word on the blackboard. Then, with a look of satisfaction, he stepped aside to reveal the name of the supposed archenemy of mankind: God.

That scene from 25 years ago replayed in my mind yesterday afternoon as I drove past the university campus. A car in front of me had a bumper sticker smugly declaring: “God is imaginary.” The atheists are apparently making inroads, having graduated from harassing captive audiences of teenagers to flaunting blasphemy in car windows.

Of course, blaming God or religion for problems we humans have caused is nothing new. It’s simply become more fashionable. Hollywood activist Bill Maher complains Christians are a judgmental bunch suffering from a neurological problem preventing them from thinking clearly.

Social scientists have some unsettling news for atheists, however. Demographic trends favor Catholics and other Christians who embrace traditional marriage and shun abortion. They’re having children and raising them to be — gasp — believers!

Controversy over social issues

The secularist movement in this country, zealous in its insistence that God must be removed from the public square, is pushing for the legalization of same-sex marriage. This is entirely contrary to the Judeo-Christian ethics from which our legal system is derived.

From removing the phrase “one nation under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance, to tearing down Ten Commandments monuments and exclaiming “happy holidays” at Christmas time, examples of secularist intolerance are plentiful.

Secularists imagine a world in which tolerance means each person determines truth for himself. Abortion, physician-assisted suicide, pornography and same-sex marriage, however, are non-negotiable.

Christians know that each life is a precious gift from a Creator God who calls us each by name and gave us His commandments out of love for us.

Secularists imagine a world in which marriage is whatever people want it to be regardless of the consequences to society at large and children in particular.

Christians know that marriage between a man and a woman is a sacred institution, deserving the protection of law, and that children need a mother and a father to flourish and thrive.

Christians know that our true home is in heaven, but that here on Earth the law is teacher. Christians may fail in their attempts to live up to the standards God expects of them, but they also know that such failures are no reason to discard their ideals.

Protect Marriage Amendment

Some Arizona Catholics have been reluctant to support the Protect Marriage Amendment, despite our bishops’ pleas to the contrary.

One concern raised is that the amendment will limit insurance benefits. The truth is that Proposition 107 will not restrict private companies from granting benefits to domestic partners.

A few people worry the Church could lose its tax-exempt status over support for the measure. No such danger exists and we are well within our legal rights to speak openly and positively about the measure at church.

Throughout the Church’s history, thousands of martyrs have given their lives for our beliefs. The atheists of ancient Rome, Stalinist Russia and Communist China all failed in their brutal efforts to crush Christianity. Our forefathers in faith would find faintheartedness in the face of the IRS to be laughable.

Bullies threatening to sue churches are no match for the ardent faith of those who call on their government to protect the traditional definition of marriage. There is simply no price tag on morality. Granting legal, marital status to gay couples is a terrible example for our children.

Joyce Coronel is a columnist for The Catholic Sun.

Sept. 21, 2006

Prejudice must be conquered

“Mom, are all Muslims bad?”

Our 7-year-old son’s question caught me by surprise that evening as we sat and watched the news together. “Of, course not, honey. You can’t judge people by their religion.” Teachable moments like this present themselves daily to the conscientious parent.

It’s tragic, but true: prejudice and bigotry remain blights on our society. We must teach our children to see every human being as a child of God. Along the way, stunning examples of violations of this fundamental Christian principal are rampant.

Ugly incident hits close to home

For months, one of our teenage sons has been taunted by the racist remarks of another student at his school. We encouraged him to ignore the insults and keep his distance, but the other boy continued the harassment. The problem has since been resolved, but it was a painful learning process for all of us.

While I am not a Hispanic, my husband is, and after more than 20 years of marriage, I consider myself an adopted daughter of the Latino community. I love the language, rich culture and faithfulness of the Hispanic people. So when someone calls my son a “wetback” and orders him to “go cut the lawn,” it not only brings tears to my eyes, it makes me angry.

How do children learn these hateful attitudes? How can we hope to live together in peace when prejudice hardens the hearts and corrupts the minds of our young people? When will such madness end?

It doesn’t help matters when popular shows like “Survivor” promise a season opener in which the races are pitted against each other.

All around us, we see evidence of the bigotry that brings nations to war against each other. While I gently guide my children toward the ideal that we’re all brothers and sisters, other mothers raise children to hate. At the root of this hatred is a bigotry so odious it wounds the soul.

Terrorism based on bigotry

It’s been five years since that horrible September morning when terrorist fanatics killed thousands. Anti-Semitism, euphemistically called “anti-Zionism” by the haters, is one of the factors that motivates such violence. In the twisted minds of terrorists, the state of Israel does not have a right to exist, and those who support the Israelis are the enemy. Hence the motto, “Death to America.”

Do the terrorists represent all Muslims? Of course not. Anyone who vilifies an entire class of people based on their religion and culture falls into the trap of prejudice.

Nevertheless, terrorists motivated by militant Islam who commit suicide bombings, kidnappings and beheadings must be stopped. This is accomplished in the name of justice, not anti-Muslim bigotry.

Reign of the Sacred Heart

I long for the day when children will no longer see our differences, but work together to build peace in our world. My soul yearns for a time when the love of the Sacred Heart of Jesus will reign in the hearts of all people and prejudice and hatred will have been defeated. Racism, bigotry and the violence they engender are in direct opposition to the love of Jesus. Our Lady told the world at Fatima that the prayers and petitions of the faithful would bring about conversion and avert wars. How great is the need for that message to be proclaimed and lived today!

Our children — indeed, everyone’s children — must be taught to revere each life, to rise above the narrow-mindedness of prejudice and live together as brothers and sisters. Is this not the Christian vision? Is this not our mission? Only when we fulfill it will there be any hope of peace on earth.

Aug. 17, 2006

Children: prophets among us

Rushing through life at break-neck speed, many of us are so caught up in the business of living that the youngest prophets among us are easily ignored. Children, with their innocence and honesty, often impart God’s wisdom to those who are willing to listen.

They tell the truth simply and in few words, never stopping to gauge political correctness or modern sensitivities. When TV news cameras showed misguided zealots with hateful signs proclaiming “Thank God for IEDs” and “God hates gays” at a funeral for a fallen soldier, our 7-year-old had an insightful reaction: “God,” he said softly, “doesn’t hate anyone.”

Not even protesters with hearts of stone.

After watching his 10-year-old brother recite the Ten Commandments, our tiny prophet hastened to copy the words onto a slip of paper. It took him quite a bit of effort, but with a triumphant smile he scrawled the final sentence and declared, “I’m going to carry this with me wherever I go until I know them all.” The rest of us could learn a lesson from his eagerness to remember God’s rules.

And last month, a 12-year-old boy vacationing with his family in Indonesia tried to alert his parents to impending danger. “That’s a tsunami coming,” he warned them, only to be ignored. Half the family perished in the crushing wave that ensued. Why are we so prone to discount the words of children?

Sadly, we live in a world that takes children for granted, often viewing them as nuisances or obstacles to financial success. Aborted, abused, abandoned and neglected, millions of children suffer because of our failure to appreciate the gift of God that they are.

When my husband and I were expecting our firstborn, an old friend, her voice tinged with sadness, cautioned us: “Don’t be afraid to have a large family. You’ll be glad you did.” She regretted having followed the advice of numerous, well-meaning friends who advised her to welcome only one or two children: “Two kids fit just right in a house. Don’t make things difficult for yourself!”

We never forgot her admonition.

Eighteen years ago this week, a baby boy named Michael entered the world and captured my heart. My husband and I shed tears of joy at his birth and marveled at the wonder of the new life so utterly dependent on us. The years have passed quickly, the marching of time oblivious to my pleas to the contrary. The law says he’s an adult now, but in my mind, it was only yesterday he took his first, halting steps.

“Money isn’t everything to me,” my little one said as he placed a $20 bill (half his savings) in a homemade birthday card for his brother. What a poignant reminder of God’s call to be generous!

This morning as I pay Michael’s college tuition, memories of the ways he has blessed and challenged us through the years come flooding back: chicken pox, mud pies, First Communion, report cards, basketball games and bicycles.

He’s moving into an apartment near school and excited about the future. His four younger brothers are discussing plans for his soon-to-be-vacant bedroom. I’m dishing out laundry tips. Dad is co-signing a lease and issuing caveats. The “Ten Commandments for Teens” plaque his grandparents gave him is neatly tucked into his belongings.

“It will be sad when Michael leaves,” our prophet wistfully noted, his soft voice quivering. Indeed. I was trying to ignore that very truth when it was starkly set before me. Innocently stated, without any pretense or agenda, the words of a child pierce the soul of those who will listen. I gather him in my arms and understand how blessed are they who receive such heavenly messengers.

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Send e-mail to letters@catholicsun.org

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