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See-Through Vessel

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment

Lord, make of me a monstrance,
The Eucharist as my heart,
That all may see your light in me
And know how great Thou art.

I wrote that little prayer-poem 14 years ago, and it has become a regular, private prayer nearly every time I receive the Blessed Sacrament. Like so many little prayers of mine, I pray it in earnest, but wonder if it will ever bear fruit.

I recently started a new job writing for the University of Mary. This required me to step away from most of my parish writing duties, so, at the August monthly staff meeting, Father invited my colleagues to offer their thoughts and affirmation of the work I’ve done over the past five years.

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Don’t Get Comfortable

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

I have a longer piece to write at some point, about how St. Michael has been a spiritual home for me and my family—Ground Zero for my thorough reversion to the Catholic faith and our conversion to an authentically Catholic understanding of marriage and sexuality, not to mention the garden in which my children grew strong in faith and began to first bear fruit for the Kingdom.

I could write a book. Maybe I should someday. But today, it’s just a column on what’s next for me and my family.

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Wednesday Witness: Digging Deeper the Right Way

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment

Awhile back, Facebook served up to me an ad for sarcastic coffee mugs, including one that read “No One Cares. Work Harder.” I recognized it right away as that strain of humor that laments how soft we have become, how prone we are to excuses and taking the easy way out of tough situations—but it didn’t seem funny. 

See, I tend to think I need to handle whatever comes my way in order to measure up. I don’t want to fail or let anyone down, and I struggle to say no or ask for help. Reading that mug felt like the world’s weight settling on my shoulders: I’ll never be caught up. I’ll never retire. I’ll never rest.

Doing good work well is a virtue, but when our efforts become a relentless slog to do more, something changes. An old friend tells me that BUSY means Burdened Under Satan’s Yoke—because, as you’ll recall, Jesus says to take up His yoke, and we will find rest.

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Wednesday Witness: Step Outside Yourself

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But God said to him, “You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong?” – Luke 12:20

Not long ago I met a woman going through serious medical and financial difficulties. For many weeks, she had been off work and in severe pain due to a spinal injury. She was behind on her bills, immobile most of the time, barely able to care for herself and her child. Friends and family offered what support they could, but even the very best prognosis put her a month away from working again, provided she still had a job.

At the end of a tearful conversation, I offered to pray with her and for her. She gratefully accepted, and I asked the Lord to heal her, to address her challenges, to protect her family, and to guide those around her to know how best to help.

When I stopped to ask if she would like to add anything, she said yes—and then proceeded to pray for a friend who was going through hard times and needed a spiritual boost. She prayed earnestly, by name, for this other person, then thanked God for all the help He has provided to her so far. She never once mentioned her own situation.

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Given Name

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment

To the victor I shall give some of the hidden manna; I shall also give a white amulet upon which is inscribed a new name, which no one knows except the one who receives it.

Revelation 2:17

On Monday evening, something unusual happened—something unique in my experience, though the tradition extends back to the Book of Genesis: My son received a new name.

Our second son, whom we named Gabriel Venjohn Thorp, is discerning religious life with the Community of Franciscan Friars of the Renewal (CFRs). After spending the past year as postulants at St. Joseph’s Friary in Harlem, he and five other young men entered the novitiate Monday at Most Blessed Sacrament Friary in Newark, New Jersey. As novices, they received their habits—the gray hooded robe and cincture of the friars—and their new names. Our son is now Brother Jude Apostoli, of St. Michael.

In my line of work, you might call this a brand refresh: new name, new packaging, same great mission—serving as a living witness and example of the love of Christ.

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