Are You an Average Catholic?

20 Sunday Jul 2025

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Evangelization

Tags

Catacombs of St. Calixtus, Do Not Be Afraid, Do Not Fear, Evangelization, Faith, Fear, Jubilee Year of Hope, Martyrdom, Mt 5:10-12, Pilgrimage, Rome, St. Agnes, St. Bartholomew, St. Emerenziana, St. John Lateran, St. Mary Major, St. Paul Outside the Walls, St. Peter's, St. Sebastian

For eight days from June 26th through July 3rd, I had the pleasure of being on pilgrimage to Rome, Italy along with three other parish Directors of Evangelization, and five from our Archdiocese Center for New Evangelization. This being the Jubilee Year of Hope, as well as having a new pope, made it a special trip. A particularly special occasion was being able to celebrate Mass inside St. Peter’s Cathedral Basilica on the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul with Pope Leo XIV as celebrant.

St. Peter’s Basilica altar baldacchino, by Bernini.

This was my second pilgrimage to Rome, the first being in 2019. Of course, when you go to Rome, you have to visit the major cathedrals and basilicas in and around the Vatican. We visited St. Peter’s, St. Mary Major, St. John Lateran, and St. Paul Outside the Walls, all marvelous examples of renaissance architecture and elaborate baroque sculpture and art. It truly is beautiful beyond words! However, this year, it was astoundingly beautiful because it is a jubilee year and a boat load of money was spent cleaning and polishing everything. The skill of the artists, sculptors, and craftsmen, men like Michelangelo, Raphael, Bernini, and so many others, is purely mind blowing!

Domed apse of St. Paul Outside the Walls

It is beautiful, no doubt, but unless you make notes in a journal, It’s almost impossible to remember where a photograph was taken. And after three or four days of gawking at the grandeur, it all started to run together. I began to wonder why I was there, what was God’s plan for me? Was it just to be impressed with the beauty? No, there had to be more. The underlying purpose of our pilgrimage was to go deeper in our faith so that we would be inspired to encourage people in our parishes to better evangelize. Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling any special inspiration. So, each day I prayed for an answer to my question, “Why am I here?”

St. Bartholomew holding a knife representing his martyrdom by being filleted alive, at St. John Lateran

One morning we visited the catacombs of St. Calixtus, where, in the 2nd through 4th centuries, nearly a half million Christians were buried, a majority of whom were martyred for opting to profess rather than deny their faith. It was their courageous faith that convinced so many Roman pagans to convert even knowing that they might be the next to be executed. As we meandered through a small portion of the 20 kilometers of underground corridors that were lined with now vacant graves stacked eight to ten high, it was easy to imagine the persecutions they endured and all the hideous and creative ways they were tortured.

On our last day in Rome we ventured into the city center and visited several minor basilicas within a couple block radius of Piazza Navona, an oval plaza that was once a center for Roman foot and chariot races, as well as for putting Christians to death. On the piazza sits the minor basilica of St. Agnes, a smaller church but still beautifully adorned with magnificent paintings and sculptures, but specifically of martyrs.

Altarpiece of St. Agnes in flames, by Ercole Ferrara, 1660.

The church is dedicated to St. Agnes, the 3rd century 12-year old virgin who refused to abandon her faith and succumb to the advances of prominent Roman men. She was martyred by beheading after attempts to burn her at the stake were unsuccessful. Also honored are St. Emerenziana, Agnes’ sister who was stoned to death for opposing the pagans who were trying to prevent Agnes’ body from being buried; St. Sebastian, a converted Roman soldier who was martyred by being shot through with arrows but not killed, and then thrown into the sewers where he died; and St. Cecilia, a young girl who was discovered to be a Christian and was beheaded.

Altarpiece of St. Sebastian, by Pietro Paolo Fields, 1719

There, before the statues and relics of St. Agnes and these other martyred saints, with tears running down my cheeks, my prayer was answered. With unbelievable awe and respect for these martyred faithful men, women, and children, the Holy Spirit convinced me that I was there to fully comprehend what it means to not be afraid to profess one’s faith, so that I could help others to not be afraid.

There, in the moment, I was struck by the relative comparison between these martyrs who risked and sacrificed their lives, and the average Catholic in our world today. How many Catholics refrain from saying grace before dinner at a restaurant because of what other people might think? Too many. How many will not say “God bless you!” to a stranger and mean it because they’re afraid of confrontation? Again, too many. How many are afraid of being questioned about their faith because they know they haven’t done what they should do to be properly catechized? Way too many. How many are willing to risk asking someone who is obviously hurting if they can pray for them? Not too many, but too few. I don’t mean to judge, but generally speaking, we are weak in our faith. So many have forgotten, if they ever actually knew, what it means to be Christian. Jesus said,

“Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you [falsely] because of me. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.” (Mt 5:10-12)

Those early Christians – St. Agnes, St. Cecilia, St. Sebastian, St. Emerenziana, and all the martyrs in the catacombs of St. Calixtus – died with hope, hope in the glory of heaven. They understood it so well that they embraced the prospect of being persecuted and put to death by torturing far worse than a disapproving glance from the diners at the next table over.

Sadly, I get it. Been there, done that, and got the t-shirt. But thankfully it doesn’t fit me any more because I’ve learned it’s not hard to overcome that fear. In fact, the mere chance that I might cause another to ask me about my faith far outweighs the risk. So, just start. Start small and go from there. If someone sneers at you for thanking God for the food you are about to receive, just smile at them and thank the Lord for them, too. Trust in the Lord to be with you, and pray that you might be the one to inspire someone else to turn to Jesus.

Remember His words, “Do not fear!” And resolve to ask yourself every now and then, “Am I just an average Catholic?”, for, if you are to fear anything, it is just that.

“Loving Father, thank You for the gift of faith and for the fortitude to protect and defend that gift. Nevertheless, You and I know that I need constant strengthening. May I receive that grace every time I receive You in the Holy Eucharist, remembering the sacrifice You made for me. I ask You Lord, and all the holy martyrs in heaven, to help me and all Your faithful to demonstrate our faith with courage and zeal. Amen.”

“Are You an Average Catholic?”was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2013-2025 Reflections of a Lay Catholic. Reposting and sharing of material in its full and original content is permitted, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author(s) and Reflections of a Lay Catholic.

Teachable Moments

22 Saturday Apr 2023

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Bible Reflections

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Do Not Fear, Jesus, John 6:16-21, Prayer, Spiritual Direction, Spiritual Mentoring, Teachable Moment

Thirty years ago when I was a middle manager in operations with an interstate natural gas pipeline company I had a vice president who intimidated me to no end. He didn’t do it intentionally, rather it was my pride, and perhaps lack of confidence, that permitted the anxiety I felt whenever I had to meet with or give a presentation to him.

His name was Theopolis (which I didn’t realize until I looked up the etymology of that name a few minutes ago that it means “Loved by God”). Theo was actually a kind man, a faith-filled man, soft spoken, and he usually wore a smile on his face and had a gleam in his eye. And he was intelligent – super intelligent – and experienced. He had worked his way up through the ranks, had previously been in my position and knew everything there was to know about my role and those of the engineers who reported to me.

It was impossible to slide something new past Theo, or to hide some mistake. He knew the ropes. In a regulated and safety conscious industry, there was little leeway to color outside the lines. But, he wasn’t averse to one doing so if there was a good reason and a good plan for improving something. His method of determining whether one’s intentions were good enough, or to get to the bottom of something that didn’t go as expected, was to gently question the poor unfortunate soul to see if they had thoroughly thought through the process. When the root cause of a problem or the glitch in a plan eventually surfaced, Theo would smile and say, “What we have here is a teachable moment.” He would then help you realize what could have been done differently or better based on his knowledge and experience.

Theo passed away ten years or so ago and I probably haven’t thought about him since I retired six years ago….until this morning when I read and meditated on today’s Gospel passage, John 6:16-21. This morning I saw him as not always being critical of what I did, but as a mentor and teacher.

After feeding the five thousand, Jesus went up the mountain to pray and the Apostles got in their boat and set out across the sea to Capernaum. On the way, the wind and seas picked up causing the crew to have some heightened anxiety. Jesus, foreseeing their fears, then came to them walking on the water, which, to the crew of experienced fishermen, may have been an embarrassment before their master and teacher. Jesus, told them, “It is I. Do not be afraid”.

Whether you’re a young engineer and middle manager or an experienced fisherman, it’s good to have someone who’s been there and done that, who can help you through the rough times. Someone who can see beyond the immediate situation and find “teachable moments” to ease the tension and dispel the anxiety.

It’s a beautiful thing to learn from the experiences of those who have gone before us, from their mistakes and successes. The Apostles and early Christians were, in a sense, just trying to figure things out. They pioneered the New Way with Jesus as their leader. They had no prior experience or self-study history books on which to fall back. Their’s was a new learning experience every day. And, Jesus, as their mentor, found “teachable moments” around every corner, especially when his followers, in their anxiety, needed to be told, “Do not fear.”

We still struggle with anxiety born from trying to do everything on our own. We forget that Jesus is with us always, even in the midst of life’s storms. We are fortunate in our faith, however, that the lessons learned by the Apostles and the early Christians have been captured for us in Scripture and in the sacred writings of the saints. We need to remember that every time we pick up and read from our Bible or the spiritual writings of the saints, we are in the middle of a “teachable moment”.

Even then, trying to learn under our own power can be difficult and frustrating. As Catholics, we are also fortunate to have available to us Spiritual Mentors who will walk with us on our journey of living a Holy life. Spiritual Mentors are trained to ask questions that help us see what we can’t see for ourselves, and to gently provide “teachable moments” that help us steer around the difficulties of life.

If you are interested in learning more about spiritual mentorship, or receiving spiritual mentorship from a trained mentor, or interested in becoming a Spiritual Mentor yourself, please leave me a comment, and I’ll be happy to help you.

“Lord Jesus, too often do I try to navigate rough waters on my own, forgetting that You are always with me. In my times of prayer, Lord, give me the grace to realize Your presence, be attentive to Your gentle guidance, and learn from those “teachable moments”. Help me also, Lord, as a Spiritual Mentor of other men, to help them find peace in their lives by relying on Your help. Amen.”

(Teachable Moments was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2013-2023 Reflections of a Lay Catholic. Reposting and sharing of material in its full and original content is permitted, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author(s) and Reflections of a Lay Catholic.