Jesus

Wednesday Witness: The Father’s Heart … In Us

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

Last Saturday I was blessed to go to the Men’s Lenten Event at St. Michael Catholic Church, with our former associate Father Nathan LaLiberte presenting. Father Nathan celebrated Mass before the event, and his homily left a mark on my heart for ministering to those in need.

The gospel was the familiar Parable of the Prodigal Son (or the Forgiving Father). He opened by noting that this powerful and thought-provoking story only appears in St. Luke’s gospel. Why did a Gentile include this story when the Jewish evangelists did not? Father suggested a Jewish audience, like many rules-based Christians today, would struggle to accept the superabundant mercy of the father in the story.

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Wednesday Witness: Borders and Boundaries

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

A few years ago, I worked for the Church of Saint Andrew in Elk River. The parish had a strong charism of service to those in need and a growing Hispanic community. I was able to get to know a few immigrant families through the Faith Formation and sacrament programs, as well as the parish’s Hispanic liaison. The experience gave my valuable perspective on the conditions that might cause someone to uproot their family and cross our southern border (whether legally or illegally) in search of a better life.

Saint Andrew also had an annual mission trip to Mexico. Invariably, the parishioners who traveled and served in the barrios south of the border came back with one overriding impression: Poverty there is often a deeper, darker thing than poverty here at home.

As a result of these encounters, I often found myself asking: What would I be willing to do to protect and provide for my family?

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A Year Apart: Reflecting on My Father’s Passing

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

One year ago today, my father passed away.

I flew to Michigan early that morning with the experienced observation of a close family friend ringing in my head: It won’t be long. The flight was flawless and landed early. When the rental car clerk learned why I was in Michigan, he expedited everything, and I was on the road in minutes. Traffic moved. The pavement was dry. I drove the limit and made myself relax, reflecting that this was unfolding in God’s time, and I would arrive when I should.

I arrived just in time. My sister came out to greet me in the driveway and said she thought Dad may have just stopped breathing. I went in and held his hand, which was warmer to my touch than it had been in years. I spoke to him softly, telling him it was okay, telling him to go to the Lord and not to be afraid, telling him we were okay and would take care of each other. 

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Wednesday Witness: Charity by the Numbers

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

You’ve all heard the adage, “Bad things come in threes.” It seems to play out time and again—one thing leads to another and another. Of course, once the seed is planted, we look for three, and when we identify the third event, we restart the counter. Sure enough, three more catastrophes are coming if we wait long enough.

But I can’t dismiss the old wisdom entirely. In my time working with the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, I have yet to encounter a neighbor who wasn’t juggling multiple problems—a cluster of issues snowballing into a crisis.

Sometimes it’s bad luck. Sometimes, poor planning. Sometimes it’s a series of personal choices we wish they could take back. Sometimes it’s systemic—problems often seem to progress faster than solutions. And sometimes it’s generational poverty, addiction, and sin taking its toll, rippling out to touch everyone in an ever-widening circle.

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Wednesday Witness: ‘You Can’t Save the World’

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

This column is part of a new, weekly series on what the Lord is doing in my heart, specifically encouraging me to simplify my own life in order practice the virtue of charity and the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy. Come back each Wednesday to read the latest!

I’ve always been a big-hearted and emotional fellow. As a grade-schooler, I tried to intervene when those who were littler than me (not many) were being bullied. Invariably, I took a thumping myself. But I couldn’t help it: I hurt to see others hurt.

Whenever I got wound up about some injustice or suffering, real or imaginary, Dad would say, “You can’t save the world.”

What he taught me, instead, was how to stand up for myself, to treat others with respect, and to look out for my own—my family and close friends, those whom I could count on to help take care of me.

Dad was right: I can’t save the world. I can’t even save myself. Jesus is the sole Savior of the world, and—thanks be to God—it is accomplished (John 19:30).

But I don’t think our eternal salvation is what Dad meant.

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