See-Through Vessel

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.

Continue reading

Don’t Get Comfortable

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.

Continue reading

Movie Break: The Secret of Roan Inish

I was traveling and the ladies were busy on St. Patrick’s Day, so we still haven’t watched our annual standby, The Quiet Man with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. Last night, however, we watch something new to us, a 1995 Irish film called The Secret of Roan Inish.

In 1995, I would have been halfway through my time at Yale, drinking too much Mountain Dew, studying to Soundgarden, and wasting braincells on “edgy” thrillers and crime movies. This movie passed unnoticed, but in recent years somehow crept back onto my radar. So this weekend, when the Sunday Funday jar yielded a slip of paper reading Dad’s Choice Movie, I knew where we were headed.

Continue reading

Book Break: Hillbilly Elegy by JD Vance

Last summer, when we were visiting Jodi’s parents, her mom gave me a copy of JD Vance’s memoir Hillybilly Elegy. I think she had picked it up for herself, but we were talking about the upcoming election, and she thought I had a better chance of reading it sometime in the near future. She said I could tell her about it when I did.

Well, Momma Venjohn, here you go.

In case you avoid the news: JD Vance is a young, former US senator for the state of Ohio, now vice president of the United States of America. He is a Marine Corps veteran, a graduate of Ohio State University and Yale Law School, and the author of the afore-mentioned memoir, a book-length reflection on a traumatic childhood, poverty and addiction in Appalachia and the Rust Belt, and the dysfunctional family connections that somehow got him through where so many others flounder.

Continue reading

Wednesday Witness: Digging Deeper the Right Way

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.

Continue reading