"A Humble Servant's Catholic Blog"

Using pebbles or beads as tangible prayer minders was nothing new by the 9th century, when Monks had begun making a daily or weekly recitation of all 150 Psalms.  It made perfect sense, then, when the lay faithful, who wanted a way to participate in this pious practice, yet had difficulty learning the Psalms due to various reasons (e.g., widespread illiteracy), instead recited 150 prayers daily or weekly and kept track of them by means of pebbles or beads.  Eventually this practice evolved into beads being strung together on a cord.  The daily prayers would typically be the "Pater Noster" (the Lord's Prayer, found in Lk 11:2-4 or Mt 6:9-13) or the "Ave [Gratia Plena]" (the "Hail, Full of Grace" found in Lk 1:28, 41-42).  Gradually, the second half of what we know today as the "Hail Mary" was added, reflecting Lk 1:43 and passages regarding praying for one another (e.g., James 5:16).  This recitation of prayers on beads would eventually evolve...

The most powerful witness to a Christian's faith is his/her personal testimony. Personal testimony is probably the most effective way to evangelize...to bring Christ to others. Rob's testimony is one of many I have heard, and he is enthusiastic about sharing it. So much so, in fact, that he requested I use his real name in this post. Rob Gwisdala was born to a Catholic father and a Protestant mother in a time when the Church had started to focus so heavily on ecumenism that it practically forgot about catechesis. Education of the faith, and preparation for the Sacraments, after all, is primarily the role of parents. But in an age when the Church was offering these faith formation classes to young children, it forgot to emphasize to parents the primary importance of teaching the faith at home. Parents figured the Church would take care of it, and the Church assumed parents were doing what parents were supposed to be doing...and by the 1990's, droves of young Catholic adult...

God has given me a most wonderful experience in growing closer to Him, and I simply must tell you about it. I had been feeling dull for some time, as though the world was honing away at my steel faster than God was sharpening it. I knew that it wasn’t a problem of God not keeping up, that it was with me; that I was becoming lazy in my faith life. Ever so gradually I had allowed myself to skip out on a prayer here, a prayer there, a mindful presence of the Lord from time to time. I was allowing myself to become too lax, too comfortable. It was nothing immediately noticeable, but looking back over the past couple years it was clear. I tried to get back into prayerful habits and exercises of piety, but continued to fail time after time. What I needed was a retreat. Just like the armies of man-made warfare who are too worn to continue, I was worn from spiritual warfare and needed to back off from the front lines and take time to heal, to rest, to revive, and to rekindle that deep...

Have you ever had a problem that was really wrecking your life, or maybe even just a small problem that was causing you grief, and you felt a need to “fix” it? I’m sure most of us have. I know I have. Now, have you ever been told to “give it to God”? I would guess that many of the people reading this have, or they already knew to do this from their youth (in which case you owe your parents a debt of gratitude). If you have never been told this, consider this “Lesson One: Give it to God”. (But that’s only the beginning.) For those who knew to do this, did you notice how, after giving it to Him, that particular problem never, ever, EVER resurfaced again to come back and haunt you?  Me neither. In fact, in my own little world of experience, it's those very problems I have given to the Lord that come back to me, sometimes with the most vengeance, requiring more self-discipline to even want to give it back to God again. Why is that? I'm going to have to tell on myself ...

I always considered myself a good Catholic Christian, but I didn’t live it. Although I have been described as a “good guy”, “nice”, “kind and quiet”, I gave myself over to sin in one form or another, especially in pride. My friends from school tell me that they thought of me as a good Christian, so I must have masked my sinfulness pretty well, or it just got covered up in my shyness and insecurity, or I just blended in with the rest of a culture that doesn’t really see many sins as being sinful. I look back and see an arrogant narcissist, pre-occupied with my own wants at anyone’s expense, yet too insecure to let it make me into a snob, and only able to really hurt those who were closest to me, or who trusted me with their emotions. I can honestly say I did not hurt all the people in my life, but there those that I did, and making amends has been a process that has spanned years, and will probably never end. My friends in school were few, but the friendships were strong, and the...

When I met the woman who would later become my wife, one of the things that impressed me was how well she knew her Faith.  In fact, she could (and did) tell me  more than a few things about it that I (as a "cradle-Catholic") had not known or understood.  Perhaps the difference between us was a "because I have to" or "my Mom is making me learn this" attitude on my part.  Whereas with her, she WANTED to know the Truth.  She wanted to open her heart to God and let Him guide her where HE wanted her.  That attitude was one I would not fully adopt until I was already an adult.  For your reading pleasure, here is my wife's conversion story, "Led Home by the Sign of His Cross":  I was raised in a Protestant home. My mom grew up in the Southern Baptist Church, and my dad didn't grow up in church, but was baptized as an adult, the same day I was baptized as a three-month old. We attended a Presbyterian (PCUSA) church, and it was there that I ...