I was a Catholic for over fifty years. I was president of the Altar Boys (how many women can say that?). I was involved with religious groups at my high school. I was a Eucharistic Minister. I played piano at Mass for over 25 years. I worked retreats for high school seniors and ran retreats in parishes.
This week is National Migration Week, an annual event convened by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) to focus attention on the plight of migrants, refugees, and victims of human trafficking in our world. This year’s theme for National Migration week, drawn from Pope Francis, is “Creating a Culture of Encounter.”
Lilith has been a misunderstood, appropriated, and redeemed woman throughout the ages. Many feminists claim her as an empowering figure in Jewish mythology, with contemporary artists such as Sarah McLachlan, who created the all-women music tour, “Lilith Fair,” reclaiming her story.
My entire life has been an exercise in chasing after the fulfillment of being known.
I was born in Caracas, Venezuela but have lived in the Latin diaspora since I was 3 years old. I have never returned home.
In December, we saw some significant good news out of Massachusetts: the anti-LGBT organization Alliance Defending Freedom (ADF) voluntarily withdrew a lawsuit they filed in October that would have created an unprecedented, extraordinary exemption to Massachusetts' statewide nondiscrimination law that was updated this past year to include protections for transgender people in public places.
Tis the season! Those of us in ministry have spent this Advent rallying our minds, hearts and spirits to find celebratory tones of hope.
It’s no secret that the holidays are often a difficult time for queer people. Disproportionately estranged from family means we often must create our own family. While these chosen families can be tremendously life-giving, it’s tough not to long for our families of origin during Christmas time.
“Joy to the world, the Lord is come, let Earth receive her King!”
I struggled to write this reflection. The central focus of Gaudete Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent, is the joyful anticipation of Christ’s birth, but how to write convincingly about joy when it eludes me as I wrestle as a single, gay Catholic away from home with the pain of loneliness?
In the wee hours of November 9th, Donald J. Trump became the presumed winner of the Presidential Election. This is an effort that many worked hard to prevent. Many volunteered, canvassed, and even prayed to stop him from making it to the Oval Office. These people understood that the world would be a far more difficult place to live in if Trump obtained that much power.