Much of modern life encourages us to separate the sacred from the ordinary. We think of worship as something that happens in church on Sunday morning. Prayer belongs to our devotional life, scripture belongs to Bible study, and service belongs to organized ministries. Meanwhile, the rest of the week is spent preparing meals, washing dishes, folding laundry, tending gardens, and caring for children, responsibilities that can easily begin to feel like interruptions to the things that really matter. Historically, however, Christians understood the work of the home very differently. Work Was Part of God’s Good Creation This understanding begins in the opening pages of Scripture. Before sin entered the world, God placed Adam in the Garden of Eden “to work it and keep it” (Genesis 2:15). Work was not a consequence of the Fall. It was part of God’s good creation. Humanity was made to cultivate, tend, and care for the world as participants in God’s ongoing creative work. Although the Fall brought hardship into human labor, it did not remove its dignity. Throughout Scripture, God’s people serve Him through ordinary occupations. Shepherds care for flocks. Farmers cultivate their fields. Craftsmen build the Tabernacle. Fishermen cast their nets. Women prepare meals and extend hospitality. Even our Lord spent most of His earthly life working quietly as a carpenter in Nazareth before beginning His public ministry. The ordinary work of daily life has always mattered to God. Vocation and the Work of the Home For centuries, Christians understood that every person has a vocation, a calling from God. Today, we often use that word to describe a career, but historically, it referred to something much broader. Some were called to ordained ministry. Others were called to marriage, parenthood, farming, craftsmanship, or the countless responsibilities of caring for a household. Each vocation was understood as a means of loving God and serving one’s neighbor. This shaped the daily lives of Christian families in practical ways. Meals were prepared not merely because people were hungry but because feeding others was an act of love. Homes were cared for because they provided shelter and hospitality. Children were taught that diligence and faithfulness were formed not in moments of extraordinary devotion but in the steady, ordinary work of daily life. The monastic tradition reflected the same instinct. The Rule of St. Benedict gave the Church the phrase ora et labora, pray and work. Prayer and labor were never viewed as competing activities. Both were ways of honoring God. Time spent working in the garden, baking bread, or copying manuscripts was offered to God just as surely as the prayers prayed in the chapel. Seeing Our Work Differently Many of us spend a significant portion of our days caring for our homes, yet it is easy to view these responsibilities as repetitive or unimportant. Laundry will always need to be folded. Meals will need to be prepared again tomorrow. Floors that were cleaned today will soon need cleaning again. Yet these ordinary tasks serve real people whom God has entrusted to our care. When we begin to see them that way, the tasks themselves may not change, but our understanding of them does. One of the simplest ways to cultivate this perspective is by connecting our work with prayer. As we prepare a meal, we can thank God for His provision and pray for those who will gather around the table. As we fold laundry, we can pray for the family member who will wear each garment. As we tend the garden, we can give thanks for the beauty of God’s creation. These prayers need not be lengthy or elaborate. They simply remind us that God is present not only in moments set aside for worship but in the work that fills our ordinary days. Forming the Next Generation Through Work One of the most important things we can do for our children is invite them into the work of the home. For most of Christian history, children did not simply observe household work; they participated in it. They learned to knead bread, tend gardens, care for younger siblings, and welcome guests. These tasks were not viewed as ways to keep children busy. They were understood as opportunities to cultivate diligence, responsibility, and love for one’s neighbor. When children help prepare dinner, set the table, or sweep the floor, they are learning something deeper than household management. They are learning that caring for a home is one of the ways we care for the people God has placed in our lives, that work is not simply about accomplishing tasks but about serving others with love. Beginning a Rhythm of Holy Work The goal is not to add more to your day but to begin seeing the work you are already doing through a different lens. Offer your work to God at the start of each day. Before the responsibilities begin, take a moment to pray that everything you do, whether preparing meals, caring for children, or cleaning your home, would be done in love and for His glory. Connect prayer to one ordinary task. Choose a single household chore and pair it with prayer. Fold laundry and pray for the person who will wear each garment. Prepare dinner and pray for those who will gather around the table. Water the garden and thank God for His provision. These simple habits gradually train our attention toward God throughout the day. Invite your children to participate. Allow them to help prepare meals, set the table, tend the garden, and care for the home, and help them understand that these are practical ways we love and serve one another. Place Scripture where you work. A verse near the kitchen sink, laundry room, or garden shed can gently draw your attention back to God in the midst of ordinary tasks. Colossians 3:17 is especially fitting: “Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” Practice gratitude instead of resentment. Laundry means there are people to clothe. Dirty dishes mean a meal was shared. A garden that needs tending means something is growing. Choosing gratitude does not make the work disappear, but it changes how we carry it. Creating a sacred home is not only about setting aside time for prayer or celebrating the seasons of the Church year. It is also about recognizing that the ordinary work of caring for a home has lasting spiritual significance. Every meal prepared, every room cleaned, every garden tended, every act of care offered to another person, these become opportunities to love God by faithfully serving those He has entrusted to us. The Christian life has always been lived in the ordinary. When our work is offered to God with gratitude and love, the everyday tasks of the home become part of the slow and steady work of spiritual formation. I created a free two-page guide called Chores as Worship. It pairs simple Scriptures and prayers with everyday tasks, helping us remember that our homes themselves can be places of worship. I hope that it’s a blessing!

There are few days on the liturgical calendar that bring together two figures as different from one another as Peter and Paul. One was a fisherman from Galilee, impulsive, passionate, and deeply familiar with Jesus from the very beginning of his ministry. The other was a Pharisee from Tarsus, educated, zealous, and so committed to opposing the early Church that he held the coats of the men who stoned Stephen to death. And yet here they are, celebrated together on the same day. Two men who could not have been more different, both transformed beyond recognition by their encounter with the risen Christ, both giving their lives for the Gospel they could not stop proclaiming. The Church has celebrated this feast together since at least the fourth century. We honor both apostles on June 29th because they were martyred in Rome around the same time, approximately 67 AD. Their shared feast is itself a kind of theology, a reminder that God builds his Church not on a particular type of person but on the transforming power of Jesus Christ. Simon Peter: The Rock Who Crumbled and Was Rebuilt St. Peter is one of the most important figures in the history of Christianity and one of the most prominent apostles in the New Testament. Originally a fisherman on the Sea of Galilee, Peter was among the first disciples called by Jesus. Along with his brother Andrew, he left behind his nets to follow Christ and became part of Jesus’ closest circle of followers. His story throughout the Gospels is both inspiring and deeply human. Bold, passionate, and quick to act, he was the disciple who stepped out of the boat and walked on water. He was also the first to openly proclaim Jesus as the Messiah, declaring: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Matthew 16:16 Jesus responded with words that would shape the entire history of the Church: “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” Matthew 16:18 Yet Peter was also capable of profound failure. On the night of Jesus’ arrest, despite his earlier promises of loyalty, he denied three times that he even knew Jesus. When the rooster crowed, Peter remembered, and he went out and wept bitterly. After the Resurrection, Jesus appeared to his disciples on the shore of the Sea of Galilee and lovingly restored Peter. Three times he asked, “Do you love me?” Three times Peter answered yes. Three times, Jesus gave him the same charge: “Feed my sheep.” The man who had denied Christ three times was recommissioned three times. This is the grace of God made visible. After Pentecost, Peter became almost unrecognizable. The disciple who could not admit to a servant girl that he knew Jesus now stood before thousands in Jerusalem and proclaimed the resurrection without flinching. He healed the sick, confronted religious authorities, and helped guide the early Church through its most dangerous and formative years. Tradition holds that Peter eventually traveled to Rome, where he led the Church during a time of intense persecution under Emperor Nero. When the time came for his own execution, he asked to be crucified upside down, saying he was not worthy to die in the same manner as his Lord. He was buried on Vatican Hill, and St. Peter’s Basilica was eventually built over his tomb. Pilgrims from around the world still visit that site today, remembering the apostle whose life so powerfully demonstrates both human weakness and God’s transforming grace. Saul of Tarsus: The Persecutor Became the Proclaimer Paul is one of the most influential figures in the history of Christianity. Originally known as Saul of Tarsus, he began his life not as a follower of Jesus but as one of the Church’s fiercest opponents. A devout Pharisee and a highly educated Jew, Saul viewed the growing Christian movement as a dangerous threat to the faith of Israel. He actively persecuted Christians, approving of the execution of St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr, and participating in efforts to imprison believers. Then, on the road to Damascus, everything changed. While traveling to arrest Christians, Saul encountered the risen Christ in a dramatic vision. A great light shone around him, and he heard a voice saying: “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”Acts 9:4 Blinded by the encounter, Saul was led into Damascus, where he remained for three days. God then sent a disciple named Ananias to pray for him. Saul’s sight was restored, he was baptized, and from that moment forward, his life took an entirely different direction. The man who had once sought to destroy the Church became one of its greatest missionaries. Over the following decades, Paul traveled throughout the Roman Empire—through what is now Turkey, Greece, Cyprus, and eventually Rome—planting churches, training leaders, and writing letters that would become some of the most theologically rich documents in human history. His letters to the Romans, Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, and others continue to shape Christian belief and practice nearly two thousand years later. His ministry was not without cost. He endured imprisonment, beatings, shipwrecks, and relentless opposition. None of it stopped him. Near the end of his life, writing from a prison cell in Rome, he set down words that still carry the weight of everything he had lived through: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”2 Timothy 4:7 Paul was martyred in Rome during the reign of Emperor Nero, around 67 AD. As a Roman citizen, he was executed by beheading rather than crucifixion, likely not far from where Peter was put to death around the same time. What These Two Men Have in Common Though Peter and Paul had very different backgrounds, their stories share an important theme. Peter denied Jesus, and Paul actively persecuted the early Church. Neither man would have seemed an obvious choice to become one of Christianity’s greatest leaders. Yet God worked powerfully through both of them. Their lives remind us that the Christian faith is not built upon human perfection. Peter struggled with fear and weakness. Paul spent years opposing the very message he would later proclaim. What changed their lives was their encounter with the risen Christ and their willingness to follow Him. The Church celebrates these two apostles together because both played a foundational role in the spread of the Gospel. Through their preaching, leadership, and eventual martyrdom, they helped establish and strengthen the early Christian community. Their stories continue to encourage Christians today. They remind us that God often works through imperfect people and that His grace is capable of transforming even our weaknesses, failures, and mistakes into opportunities for faithful service. Ways to Celebrate at Home Read and Discuss Together Read Luke 22:54-62, the account of Peter’s denial. Then read Acts 4:8-13, Peter boldly proclaiming the resurrection before the very authorities who had him arrested. Ask your children: What happened to Peter between these two moments? What changed him? Then read Acts 9:1-19, the account of Paul’s conversion on the road to Damascus. Ask: What happened to Saul? What did he see? What did he hear? How did it change him? The thread running through both conversations is the same: an encounter with Jesus changes everything. Celebrate Peter the Fisherman Since Peter spent his early life as a fisherman on the Sea of Galilee, do something with fish today: Serve fish for dinner, baked, fried, or whatever your family enjoys. Go fishing if you are near water. Give younger children a bowl of Goldfish crackers for a snack. Play a game of Go Fish after dinner. Celebrate Paul the Tentmaker Paul supported himself during his missionary journeys as a tentmaker, a craft he had learned long before his conversion and returned to throughout his travels. Honor that part of his story with one of these ideas: Let your children build a tent indoors using sheets, blankets, and chair backs, then read Paul’s story inside it. Set up an actual tent in the backyard for the afternoon. Make graham cracker tents together as a family treat; more on that below. Graham Cracker and Chocolate Tents Ingredients 3 Tablespoons semi-sweet chocolate chips 2 Tablespoons water 2 packages of graham crackers Directions Place the chocolate chips and water in a microwaveable bowl. Microwave for 1 minute, stir, and then continue microwaving in 30-second increments, stirring until smooth. Break graham cracker sheets in half. Cover a square with melted chocolate and set it down. Place two other squares on top of the chocolate-covered square and let them come together to form a teepee. Hold the teepee together and spread melted chocolate where they join together. Set aside and allow the chocolate to harden. Serve on a plate with goldfish crackers and enjoy the Feast of St. Peter and St. Paul!

On June 24, the Church celebrates one of its most fascinating and often overlooked feast days: the Nativity of St. John the Baptist. Also known as the Summer Christmas, Nativity of the Forerunner, or Johnmas (I love that one!), the Nativity of John the Baptist is the special day that we celebrate the birth of the man chosen to prepare the way for Christ. Most Christians are familiar with John the Baptist as the fiery preacher in the wilderness who called people to repentance and baptized Jesus in the Jordan. Yet long before his public ministry began, his birth was already a sign that God’s plan of redemption was unfolding. The story is told in the first chapter of Luke’s Gospel. John’s parents, Zechariah, a Jewish priest, and Elizabeth, were old and without children. While Zechariah was in the temple offering incense, the Angel Gabriel appeared to him and told him that he and Elizabeth were to have a son and that they were to name him “John.” Zechariah, initially filled with disbelief, was struck mute until the day of John’s birth. Meanwhile, his wife Elizabeth, previously barren, conceived and rejoiced in God’s favor. The focus then shifted to Mary, the mother of Jesus, as Gabriel appeared to her with the news of her miraculous conception. Upon learning that her relative Elizabeth was also expecting, Mary visited her. In an awe-inspiring moment, the unborn John leaped in Elizabeth’s womb, filled with the Holy Spirit, acknowledging the presence of the unborn Savior within Mary. Later, Elizabeth gave birth to a son. When it was time to name the child, Elizabeth said that his name was John. The neighbors and relatives moved to name him after Zechariah, but Zechariah was given a tablet to write upon and agreed with Elizabeth that his name is to be John. At that moment, Zechariah’s speech was restored, and he began to praise God and prophesy his son’s significant role in preparing the way for the Messiah. It is a beautiful story, one that reveals how carefully God was preparing the world for the coming of Christ. The Church has always held John the Baptist in extraordinary honor. In fact, there are only three birthdays celebrated on the Church calendar: the birth of Jesus, the birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the birth of John the Baptist. Jesus Himself said of John: “Among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist.” (Matthew 11:11) John stands at the meeting point of the Old and New Covenants. He is the last of the prophets and the one chosen to announce the arrival of the Messiah. One of the most beautiful aspects of this feast is its placement on the calendar. When Gabriel announced Christ’s conception to Mary, he told her that Elizabeth was already six months pregnant. For this reason, the Church celebrates John’s birth six months before Christmas. The feast also falls immediately after the summer solstice, when the days begin to grow shorter. Christians have long seen this as a reflection of John’s own words: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30) As the light of the sun slowly begins to diminish, John reminds us to turn our attention toward Christ. Ways to Celebrate: Read Luke 1:5–25, 39–45, and 57–80. Read the story of John’s birth together as a family and reflect on his role in preparing the way for Jesus. Light a St. John’s Fire. Tradition has it that Elizabeth lit a bonfire to announce the birth of her son. All over the world, Christians light “St. John’s Fires” on mountains, hilltops, beaches, and backyards on the eve of his feast. In Ireland, the blessed ashes from St. John’s Fires are sprinkled over the fields to ensure a good harvest. Eat something made with honey. Since John the Baptist is known to have eaten locusts and wild honey, make something with honey, locusts, or both! We choose honey! See the recipe for an easy-to-make and delicious Honey Cake. Or you could make things even easier by making s’mores using honey graham crackers. Have a water fight. Since John the Baptist is known for baptizing those who repented, include water in your celebrations. In Mexico and the American Southwest, it’s traditional for Christians to attend morning church and then dip fully clothed in the nearest body of water. They would also playfully throw buckets of water at each other. Throw water balloons, set up a sprinkler, or have a water war with your kids. The Nativity of John the Baptist may no longer be widely celebrated, but it remains one of the Church’s most meaningful summer feasts. It reminds us that before Christ’s public ministry began, God raised up a prophet to prepare the way. And perhaps that is John’s enduring lesson for us as well. His entire life pointed away from himself and toward Christ. May ours do the same! the recipe - Honey Cake 1/2 cup butter, softened 1 cup honey 2 large eggs, room temperature 1/2 cup plain yogurt 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 cups all-purpose flour 2 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 teaspoon salt Preheat the oven to 350°. Grease a 9-inch cast-iron skillet or cake pan. In a large bowl, beat butter and honey until blended. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in yogurt and vanilla. In another bowl, whisk flour, baking powder, and salt; add to the butter mixture. Transfer batter to the prepared skillet. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 30-35 minutes. Cool completely in a pan on a wire rack. Serve with fruit, and additional honey if desired.

Part Four in the Series: Creating a Sacred Home There is a particular kind of home that most of us can distinctly remember. It belonged to a grandparent, a neighbor, or a family from church. You knew right when you walked through the door that you were welcome. Not because the house was perfectly clean or the meal was fancy, but because something about the place and the people communicated that there was room for you. That your presence was not an inconvenience but a gift. Most of us carry that memory like a treasure. And most of us, if we really think about it, long to create that kind of home ourselves. The good news is that this longing is not accidental. It is, in fact, deeply Christian. And the Church has a great deal to say about where it comes from and how to cultivate it. God, the First Host To understand Christian hospitality, we have to begin where all things begin, with God Himself. Throughout Scripture, God is revealed as a host. In the Garden, He creates a place of beauty and abundance and places His people within it. In the wilderness, He feeds His people with manna from heaven and water from the rock. In the Psalms, David writes with astonishment: You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows. - Psalm 23:5 This is not the language of a God who merely tolerates His people. It is the language of a generous host who delights in providing for those He loves. This pattern continues throughout the story of Scripture. God welcomes His people, provides for them, and makes room for them. In turn, He calls them to extend that same welcome to others. Christian hospitality does not begin with our generosity. It begins with His. The Hospitality of Jesus By the time we reach the Gospels, this theme takes on flesh in the person of Christ. Jesus does not simply teach about hospitality. He embodies it. He welcomes children when others dismiss them. He shares meals with tax collectors and sinners. He continually makes room for those whom society pushes aside. In one of the most searching passages in Scripture, Jesus says: For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me. - Matthew 25:35 When His listeners ask when they had done these things, He replies: As you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me. -Matthew 25:40 The stranger at our door is not simply a person in need. Christ identifies Himself with those who need welcome, care, and mercy. To receive them is to receive Him. The Early Church and the Radical Welcome The early Church took these words seriously. In a Roman world deeply divided by class and status, Christians became known for their care for one another and their openness toward others. Rich and poor, slave and free, Jew and Gentile gathered together as members of one family in Christ. The Apostle Paul writes to the church in Rome: Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. - Romans 15:7 Hospitality was not viewed as a special ministry for a few gifted people. It was understood to be an ordinary expression of Christian love and one of the ways believers reflected the welcome they themselves had received from God. Hospitality Is Not Entertaining Before we talk about what hospitality looks like in the home, we need to clear away one of the most persistent misunderstandings about it: hospitality is not entertaining. Entertaining is all about the host. It is about the quality of the meal, the appearance of the house, and the impression made on the guests. Entertaining looks inward, at what we have to offer, whether it is good enough, and whether we will be judged. Hospitality is all about the guest. It is about making room, creating welcome, and communicating to another person that their presence matters. Hospitality looks outward, at the need of the person standing at the door, not at the condition of the house they are entering. This distinction is not merely semantic. It is liberating. If hospitality requires a clean house, an impressive meal, and a perfectly orchestrated evening, then most of us will practice it rarely if at all. But if hospitality is simply the extension of welcome, a place at the table, a cup of tea, an open door, then all of us can practice it today, in whatever home we have, with whatever we have in the kitchen. The writer and theologian Christine Pohl, in her landmark study of Christian hospitality, notes that throughout Church history, the most transformative acts of welcome were rarely performed by people with large homes and impressive resources. They were performed by ordinary people who had decided that their home, however modest, belonged to God and was therefore available to others. Beginning a Practice of Hospitality If this all feels intimidating, here are a few practical helps: Protect one meal a month for guests. It does not need to be elaborate. Soup, bread, and a candle on the table are enough. The point is the practice of regularly making room for others. Keep your threshold low. One of the most beautiful things about the tradition of Christian hospitality is that it begins before anyone knocks on the door. Edna Lewis, in her memoir of growing up in a small Virginia farming community, describes how her family always kept a smoked ham ready in the kitchen and her aunt always kept a pound cake on hand — not for any planned occasion, but simply because a guest might come. That spirit of quiet readiness is itself a form of hospitality. In our own kitchens, it might look like keeping a good coffee on hand, a loaf of banana bread in the freezer, or a simple soup that can be stretched to feed one more. The point is not the specific food but the posture it represents, a home that is already leaning toward welcome before anyone arrives. Notice who is on the margins. In your church, your neighborhood, your child’s school. The new family that doesn’t know anyone yet. The elderly neighbor who rarely has visitors. The single parent who is quietly exhausted. Hospitality begins with seeing. Let mercy be concrete. When you become aware of a need, respond to it specifically. Don’t ask if you can do something, just do it. A meal delivered. An afternoon of childcare is offered. A ride to a medical appointment. These are not grand gestures. They are the ordinary currency of Christian love. Involve your children. Let them help set the table for guests, answer the door, serve food, and learn from an early age that your home is a place of welcome. These lessons are among the most formative you can give them. The Witness of the Open Door There is one more thing worth considering before we close. Many people today find themselves longing for deeper connection and community. Though our lives are more connected technologically than at any point in history, genuine relationships often feel increasingly difficult to cultivate. Loneliness and isolation have become common experiences for many people, and it is not uncommon to encounter neighbors, coworkers, or even fellow church members who are quietly carrying that burden. In such a moment, the practice of Christian hospitality becomes a powerful witness. Historically, Christians have not been known primarily for impressive homes or elaborate entertaining. Rather, they have been known for their willingness to make room for others. The open table, the shared meal, the extra chair pulled up for a guest, these simple acts have long been among the ordinary ways Christians have demonstrated the love of God in the world. This is, after all, one of the central themes of the Gospel itself. God saw us in our need and did not leave us to ourselves. He welcomed us, provided for us, and invited us into fellowship with Him. The hospitality we extend to others is ultimately a reflection of the hospitality we have first received. Every shared meal, every guest welcomed, every act of kindness offered within the home becomes a small reminder of that larger reality. Through these ordinary practices, our homes can become places where people experience not only our welcome but something of God’s welcome as well. As Peter reminds us: Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. - 1 Peter 4:8–9 Next in the series: Beauty and Creation — how gardens, candles, music, and the beauty of the seasons help lift our hearts toward God.

There is a moment that happens in many Christian homes, usually sometime in early December, when a child looks up from whatever they are doing and asks a question that stops you cold. Why do we do this? Why do we light these candles? Why do we fast before Easter? Why are we baking saffron buns and talking about a girl who lived sixteen hundred years ago? If you have ever been asked that question, or if you hope someday to be, then the liturgical year is one of the most powerful gifts the Church has to offer your home. God Has Always Sanctified Time Before we talk about Advent wreaths and Easter feasts, we need to go back to something we touched on in the last post in this series. In Exodus 13, God gives His people instructions that go far beyond a single meal. He is not simply telling Israel to eat unleavened bread and remember Egypt. He is doing something far more profound. He is teaching His people how to inhabit time. He could have said simply, “Remember that I saved you.” Instead He said, “Every year, on this day, stop what you are doing. Gather your family. Eat this meal. Tell the story.” This is the difference between two ways of experiencing time that the ancient Greeks understood well. Chronos is ordinary, measurable time, the simple passing of days and weeks and years. Kairos is something altogether different. It is time not measured by its duration but by its meaning. It is time that has been filled with significance, set apart, made holy. What God gave Israel through the feast days and festivals was not just a religious calendar. He was teaching them to transform chronos into kairos, to move through the year in a way that continuously reminded them who they were, whose they were, and what He had done for them. And when the long-awaited Messiah finally came, the Church did the same thing. An Ancient and Beautiful Response The liturgical year did not emerge from a committee meeting or a theological debate. It emerged from the overwhelming significance of what had actually happened in history. Christ had died. Christ had risen. And that reality was so earth-shattering, so utterly transformative, that from the very beginning Christians began marking it with deep reverence and structured celebration. One of the earliest witnesses to this is Polycarp, a disciple of the Apostle John, who lived from approximately 69 to 155 AD. He records making annual pilgrimages to honor the mystery of Christ’s passion and resurrection, not because anyone required it of him, but because the event demanded it. A few centuries later, a remarkable Spanish woman named Egeria made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land and recorded what she found there in extraordinary detail. In her Itinerarium, written around 381 AD, she describes Holy Week services, Easter celebrations, Ascension, Pentecost, and Ordinary Time, all observed with what she calls sensory-rich liturgies: processions, Scripture readings, hymns, fasts, feasts, and communal meals. Her description of Palm Sunday is worth pausing over: “After the Eucharist, at which the story of our Lord’s entry into Jerusalem had been read, the people hurried home to eat. At one o’clock, they met the bishop near the top of the Mount of Olives… at five o’clock they processed down the Mount with branches of palm or olive trees, singing psalms including Psalm 118 with all shouting ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’ The procession went to the site of our Lord’s tomb, a prayer was held at the site of the cross, and the people were dismissed.” What strikes me about this account is how familiar it feels. Sixteen centuries later, Christians are still processing with palm branches, still singing Psalm 118, still gathering to hear the story of Christ’s entry into Jerusalem. The liturgical year is not a modern invention or a denominational preference. It is the Church’s ancient, embodied response to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, and it has been shaping Christian homes and communities for over two thousand years. The Seasons of the Story Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Holy Week, Easter, Pentecost, and Ordinary Time are not random traditions layered onto the Christian calendar. They are a gift. They are the way the Church has walked through the story of Jesus together, season after season, century after century. Through these seasons, we move through the full arc of the Gospel in a single year: The longing and anticipation of Advent. The joy and wonder of Christmas. The revelation of Christ to the nations at Epiphany. The repentance and self-examination of Lent. The sorrow and silence of Holy Week. The overwhelming joy of Easter. The coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. And then the long green season of Ordinary Time, where the work of growth, discipleship, and faithful living takes place. Year after year, we walk through the same story. And year after year, we find that we are different people receiving it. This is one of the profound gifts of the liturgical year. It does not assume that we come to it the same way twice. A child encounters the manger differently at four than at fourteen. A parent hears the words of Holy Week differently after a year of grief. Ordinary Time feels different in a season of flourishing than in a season of waiting. The story remains constant. We are the ones being formed by it. Bringing the Story Home Here is what I want you to hear clearly: celebrating the liturgical year at home does not require elaborate programs or perfectly executed traditions. One of my favorite examples comes from the Feast of St. Lucy, observed on December 13th. Her story is one of extraordinary courage, a young woman who gave her life rather than renounce her faith in Christ. After dinner, we read her story together. Earlier in the day, we bake the traditional Swedish saffron buns that have been associated with her feast for centuries. The smell of those buns as they come out of the oven. The golden color. The act of making them together. Tasting them as we remember her life. All of it reinforces the memory in a way that words alone never could. And the raisins pressed into the center of the S-shaped buns? They represent her eyes, which were blinded before her martyrdom. It is a detail that no child ever forgets — and that is precisely the point. This is what the liturgical year does in a home. It makes the faith sensory, embodied, and memorable. Children do not just hear about the courage of the saints. They smell it. They taste it. They carry it. Maria von Trapp, whose family’s story of faith and beauty has inspired generations, once wrote that visitors to her home would often ask about the celebrations and traditions they encountered there. It gave her a natural opportunity to share about her faith, not through pressure or argument, but through beauty, hospitality, and story. The liturgical year has always worked this way. It is, among many other things, one of the most natural forms of witness available to a Christian home. A Word About Ordinary Time We should say something about the season we find ourselves in right now, because it is easy to overlook. Ordinary Time, the long green season that follows Pentecost and stretches through late autumn, is not a placeholder between the more dramatic seasons of the year. Its name does not mean unimportant. It comes from the Latin ordinalis, meaning numbered or ordered. These are the counted weeks, the weeks of growth. If Advent and Lent are seasons of preparation, and Christmas and Easter are seasons of celebration, then Ordinary Time is the season of formation. It is where discipleship actually happens, in the daily rhythms, the ordinary meals, the quiet practices that accumulate over weeks and months into something we could not have planned or manufactured. Summer Ordinary Time, in particular, carries its own particular grace. The long evenings, the slower pace, the natural rhythms of garden and table, all of it creates conditions that are genuinely hospitable to the kind of formation we have been exploring throughout this series. This is not a season to wait out until Advent arrives. It is a season to inhabit. Where to Begin If the liturgical year is new to your family, you don’t have to try to observe everything at once. Choose one season or one feast day and begin there. A few simple ways to enter the liturgical year at home: Light a candle in the color of the season. Purple for Advent and Lent, white for Christmas and Easter, red for Pentecost, green for Ordinary Time. This single practice connects your home visually to the rhythm of the Church year. Read the collect for the day or the feast during dinner or evening prayer. These ancient prayers distill the meaning of each day into a single, beautiful sentence. Tell the story of a saint on their feast day. You do not need to cook a special meal or plan an activity. Simply knowing the name and story of the saint the Church is remembering that day is enough to begin. Mark the season with something sensory. A particular scent, a special food, a piece of music that belongs to that time of year. These sensory anchors become some of the most durable memories of childhood. Add the major feast days to your family calendar at the beginning of each season so they do not catch you by surprise. Or buy my liturgical wall calendar HERE and my liturgical planner HERE. Follow along here. One of the simplest things you can do is let me help. Each week I share what is coming up on the liturgical calendar, the season, the feast day, its history and significance, and simple ways to mark it in your home. You do not have to plan ahead or research on your own. Just show up and I will meet you there. And when your children ask — why do we do this? — you will be ready. Because God has been faithful to us. Because Jesus has redeemed us. And because His story is worth celebrating. Next in the series: Beauty and Creation — how gardens, candles, music, and the beauty of the seasons help lift our hearts toward God. My liturgical year calendar My liturgical year planner

The Feast of St. Barnabas is coming up on June 11th. St. Barnabas was a true pioneer of the early church. Although St. Barnabas is not as well known as Peter or Paul, his faithfulness, generosity, and encouragement changed the course of the Church. He reminds us that sometimes the most powerful witness comes not from preaching but from believing in others, walking beside them, and helping them grow in Christ. St. Barnabas in Scripture We first meet Barnabas in the Book of Acts. His name was originally Joseph, but the apostles gave him the name Barnabas, meaning “son of encouragement” (Acts 4:36). He was from the tribe of Levi and was born in Cyprus. Barnabas sold a field he owned and gave the proceeds to the apostles to support the early Christian community in Jerusalem. From the very beginning, his life was marked by generosity, self-giving, and a willingness to put himself at the service of others. That spirit of encouragement would become one of the defining features of his ministry. He played a key role in the life of St. Paul. After Paul’s dramatic conversion on the road to Damascus, the other disciples were understandably hesitant to trust him. It was Barnabas who stepped in, believing Paul’s story, standing beside him, and introducing him to the apostles (Acts 9:27). His willingness to believe in someone others feared helped launch one of the greatest missionary journeys in the Church’s history. Barnabas was later sent to Antioch to encourage the new Christian community there, and he brought Paul with him. Together, they taught the believers and strengthened the Church. The Church in Antioch would eventually send them with famine relief to Jerusalem and later commission them for their first missionary journey. Barnabas and Paul traveled together through Cyprus and Asia Minor, preaching the Gospel and planting churches. Eventually, Paul and Barnabas disagreed over whether to bring John Mark on their next journey. Because Mark had previously left them during their work, Paul was reluctant to entrust him with another mission. But Barnabas, true to his name, wanted to give Mark a second chance. The disagreement was strong enough that they parted ways: Paul went one direction with Silas, and Barnabas took Mark back to Cyprus (Acts 15:36–39). Though this may seem like a sad ending, it led to the expansion of the mission, and we know that Paul and Mark eventually reconciled. Paul even asks for Mark in his letters (2 Timothy 4:11), a quiet testament to Barnabas’ faithful influence. Tradition holds that Barnabas continued preaching and was eventually martyred in his native Cyprus. He is remembered as a foundational figure in the early Church, one who encouraged the discouraged, stood up for the misunderstood, and built up the body of Christ. Ways to Celebrate Read Acts 4:36–37; 9:26–27; and 11:22–30. Spend time reflecting on the life and legacy of Barnabas. Consider reading these passages aloud with your family or during personal prayer, noticing the quiet faithfulness of Barnabas and the ways God used him to encourage others. Make Haystacks In England, St. Barnabas’ Day fell around the summer solstice, the traditional beginning of the haymaking season. Because of this, he is often depicted holding a hay rake! Farmers would begin cutting and drying hay, and after a hard day’s labor, they’d feast together with joy and music. A sweet way to remember this tradition is to make haystacks, no-bake treats made from butterscotch chips and chow mein noodles that resemble small bundles of hay. Barnaby bright, Barnaby bright, the longest day and the shortest night. ~ Traditional English saying Decorate with Woodruff and Roses. English churches were often decorated with woodruff and roses for St. Barnabas’ Day. Woodruff is a delicate, white flowering herb that grows in the forest, beautiful, fragrant, and easy to dry. If you can find it or a similar small white flower, add it to your kitchen table along with some roses in honor of the day. Make Walnut Streusel Coffee Cake. There’s a charming tradition from Glastonbury, England, that a walnut tree in the abbey churchyard would only bud on St. Barnabas’ Day. Celebrate with a simple Walnut Streusel Coffee Cake, perfect for breakfast or afternoon tea as you remember this faithful saint. Walnut Streusel Coffee Cake 1 1⁄2 cups all-purpose flour 3⁄4 cup sugar 2 1⁄2 teaspoons baking powder 1⁄2 teaspoon salt 1⁄4 cup butter 3⁄4 cup milk 1 egg 1⁄2 cup brown sugar, packed 2 teaspoons cinnamon 1⁄2 cup finely chopped walnuts 2 tablespoons butter, melted Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Grease and flour a round layer cake pan or a square 8"x 8" or 9"x 9" pan. Blend the first seven ingredients; beat vigorously for 30 seconds. Mix brown sugar, cinnamon, nuts, and melted butter in a small bowl. Pour half of the cake batter into the pan. Sprinkle half of the brown sugar mixture over the batter. Pour the remaining cake batter into the pan. Top with the remaining brown sugar mixture. Bake for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Welcome to Part Two in the Series Creating a Sacred Home! One of the most overlooked aspects of Christian life is the role of the table. We live in a culture that treats food as fuel and meals as one more task to accomplish. We eat in the car, at our desks, in front of screens, rushing from one thing to the next. Yet when we turn to Scripture, we discover that meals occupy a surprisingly important place in the story of God’s people. God has always been a generous host. He creates, He provides, He sets a table. The hunger He built into us is not a lack but an invitation, an opening through which His generosity continuously flows. From the very beginning, food is presented as one of God’s gifts to humanity. In Genesis, Adam and Eve are placed in a garden filled with trees that are good for food and pleasing to the eye. Food is not merely a necessity. It is part of the goodness of creation itself, a sign that God provides abundantly for His people. This theme runs throughout all of Scripture. The Psalms describe God as the One who opens His hand and satisfies every living thing. Israel’s story is marked by meals that help God’s people remember His faithfulness. And in one of the clearest examples of how God uses the table to form His people, He gives Israel the Passover. After delivering His people from slavery in Egypt, God instructs them to observe a yearly meal of remembrance. In Exodus 13, He tells them: “When the Lord brings you into the land of the Canaanites...you shall keep this service in this month. Seven days you shall eat unleavened bread, and on the seventh day there shall be a feast to the Lord... And when in time to come your son asks you, ‘What does this mean?’ you shall say to him, ‘By a strong hand the Lord brought us out of Egypt.’” Notice how faith formation happens here. God does not simply tell His people to remember His faithfulness in their hearts. He gives them a meal. He creates a shared experience that naturally leads to questions, conversations, and storytelling. Children ask what the meal means, and parents tell the story of God’s salvation. The table becomes the place where faith is remembered, practiced, and passed from one generation to the next. By the time we reach the Gospels, meals have become one of the primary settings of Christ’s ministry. Jesus shares meals with tax collectors and sinners. He feeds hungry crowds in the wilderness. He attends wedding feasts. He institutes the Eucharist at a shared table with His disciples. After His resurrection, He is recognized in the breaking of bread and prepares breakfast for His disciples along the shore. These are not incidental details. They reveal something essential about the Kingdom of God. Again and again, Christ uses the table as a place of welcome, teaching, reconciliation, and communion. Through meals, He demonstrates the hospitality of God and invites people into relationship with Him and with one another. The early Church continued this pattern. In Acts 2, the first Christians devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, fellowship, the breaking of bread, and prayer, and these were not separate activities. Believers gathered in one another’s homes, shared meals, worshiped together, and cared for one another’s needs. The table was one of the primary places where the Christian community was formed and sustained. Long before formal church programs existed, much of Christian formation happened around the table. Families prayed together before meals. Scripture was told and retold. Children learned gratitude by giving thanks for God’s provision. Hospitality was extended to neighbors, travelers, and those in need. The table was not simply a place where food was consumed. It was a place where faith was lived. This has direct implications for our homes today. Many of us long for deeper connection within our families, yet shared meals are often among the first things sacrificed when life becomes busy. Yet the table remains one of the most natural places for the kind of formation that cannot be programmed or scheduled, the kind that happens in ordinary conversation, in the passing of bread, in the simple act of giving thanks together. Beginning a Rhythm of Shared Meals None of this requires elaborate cooking or a beautifully styled table. Christian families throughout history did not gather around perfect meals. They gathered around ordinary meals offered with gratitude. The significance was never in the menu but in the practice of coming together and recognizing God’s provision. Begin by protecting one shared meal each day. For some families, that will be breakfast. For others, dinner. The specific meal matters less than the commitment to gather regularly. Light a candle. As we explored in the first post in this series, candlelight signals that a moment has been set apart. At the table, that simple act changes the atmosphere, for children and adults alike, from merely consuming food into holy time. (inexpensive taper candles, thrift store candlesticks or these wooden ones, kid-friendly candle lighter, candle snuffer) Put away phones and devices. This is not a small thing! Presence is the precondition for everything else the table can offer. Begin with a simple blessing. Thank God for His provision. Ask one another about the day. Share joys, concerns, and prayer requests. Allow children to help set the table, serve food, or offer the blessing. These practices may seem small, but repeated faithfully over time, they become powerful habits of connection and formation. On Hospitality The table also opens naturally into one of the essential practices of Christian life, hospitality. Throughout Scripture, God’s people are called to welcome the stranger, care for the needy, and make room for others. In the early Church, hospitality was not a special ministry reserved for gifted individuals. It was an ordinary expression of Christian love. For many of us, hospitality feels intimidating because we imagine it requires perfect homes and elaborate meals. It does not. Christian hospitality has never been about entertaining. It is about making room. Sometimes that looks like inviting another family for dinner. Sometimes it means sharing coffee with a neighbor, bringing a meal to someone who is sick, or welcoming a new family from church. Start small. The practice will grow. Every day, we eat. Every day, we have opportunities to give thanks, gather together, and extend welcome to others. These ordinary moments, repeated faithfully and offered to God, become part of the spiritual formation of a family. The sacred home is not built only through prayers and devotions. It is built around the table as well, in shared meals, grateful hearts, meaningful conversations, and open doors. God has given us this gift. We need only receive it. Next in the series: Formation Through the Liturgical Year

Welcome to Part One in the Series “Creating a Sacred Home.” One of the things that has struck me as I have studied Christian history is how seriously Christians have always taken the formation of the home. Today, we often think of spiritual formation as something that happens primarily at church. We attend worship on Sunday, participate in Bible studies, and enroll our children in Sunday School or youth programs. These things are good and important, but for most of Christian history, the home was understood to be one of the primary places where faith was formed and nurtured. This understanding is deeply rooted in Scripture. In Deuteronomy 6, Moses instructs the people of Israel: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.” Notice how ordinary these instructions are. Sitting in the house. Walking along the road. Lying down. Rising up. The assumption is that faith is woven into the fabric of everyday life, not reserved for the sanctuary, but present in the most unremarkable moments of an ordinary day. The early Church took this same vision seriously. Christians gathered for prayer in the morning, at midday, and in the evening. They read the Psalms, listened to Scripture, and shaped their days around regular encounters with God’s Word. This was not considered extraordinary devotion. It was simply how Christian households lived. What strikes me about this history is how available it makes faith formation feel. These were not elaborate programs or carefully designed curricula. They were families returning to Scripture and prayer at regular intervals throughout the day, trusting that faithfulness in small moments accumulates into something profound over time. That same simplicity is available to your family today. But before we talk about structure, let’s talk about how you begin. One of the simplest and most beautiful ways to mark the transition into prayer is to light a candle. Throughout Christian history, candles have served as symbols of Christ, the Light of the World. But they also do something practical: they help us mark a moment as different from the rest of the day. In a home filled with noise, screens, and competing demands, the simple act of lighting a candle signals that something is about to happen that matters. Children respond deeply to this kind of tangible practice. It creates a sense of anticipation. It draws their attention without a word being spoken. If your children are old enough, give them roles. One child lights the candle. Another reads the Scripture passage. Another extinguishes the candle when you are finished, and if you want to make it memorable, purchase a candle snuffer and let them use it. These small rituals often become the moments children carry with them longest, precisely because they are invited to participate rather than simply observe. (inexpensive taper candles, thrift store candlesticks or these wooden ones, kid-friendly candle lighter, candle snuffer) Beginning a Rhythm of Prayer and Scripture If the idea of daily prayer and Scripture reading feels overwhelming, start small. One of the most common mistakes families make is trying to do too much too quickly. We imagine an ideal routine and then become discouraged when real life interrupts. But the Christians who shaped these practices across centuries were not living in monasteries. They were ordinary people with work and children and interruptions and tired evenings. The rhythms they developed were designed to survive real life, not ideal conditions. Choose one moment in your day that already exists and attach your practice to it. Breakfast, the start of homeschooling, dinner, or bedtime, find what your family already does and let prayer grow from there, rather than trying to carve out entirely new space. A simple rhythm might look like this: Light a candle Read a Psalm or a short passage of Scripture Share prayer requests Pray the Lord’s Prayer together The entire practice can take five minutes. And five faithful minutes, day after day, will do more for your family than an elaborate routine practiced sporadically. If you have young children, adapt freely. Let older children help read or lead. Give younger children something quiet for their hands while they listen. Keep your expectations realistic and remember that participation looks different at every age. Where to Begin You don’t need a special book or a formal program to begin. A Bible and a willingness to show up are enough. But if you find it helpful to have some structure as you start, here are a few accessible resources I created: Most importantly, do not wait for the perfect season. The great insight of Deuteronomy 6 is that faith formation does not require ideal circumstances. It requires only faithfulness in the ordinary moments, when you sit, when you walk, when you lie down, when you rise. The Church across the centuries has shown us that this is enough. Your home provides the moments. What remains is simply to begin. Light a candle. Open your Bible. Gather your family. That is enough. This is the first in a series on creating a sacred home. Next: The Table: Shared Meals and Hospitality.

Summer has arrived once again with its long days, warm evenings, and slower rhythms. School books are tucked away, gardens are beginning to flourish, and many of us find ourselves spending a little more time at home. There is a gentleness to this season, an invitation to linger a little longer at the table, take evening walks, and embrace a pace of life that often feels elusive during the rest of the year. And in the Church, we find ourselves once again in the season of Ordinary Time. This long green season has become one of my favorite times of the year. Without the anticipation of Advent or the solemn preparations of Lent, Ordinary Time gives us the opportunity to focus on the quiet work of growth. It reminds us that much of the Christian life is not lived in extraordinary moments but in the ordinary rhythms of everyday faithfulness. It is in the ordinary that habits are formed, relationships are nurtured, and discipleship takes root. As I have reflected on Ordinary Time this year, I have found myself thinking about the places where most of that formation happens. For many of us, it happens at home. Around the dinner table. During bedtime prayers. While folding laundry, tending gardens, welcoming friends, or reading aloud to our children. Historically, Christians understood the home as more than a place to eat and sleep. It was a place where the faith was practiced and passed down, where hospitality was offered, where daily work became an offering to God, and where the rhythms of the Church shaped the rhythms of family life. So this summer, I want to invite you into a new series: Creating a Sacred Home Over the next several weeks, we will explore what it means to cultivate a home that is intentionally ordered toward the presence of God. Not through perfection or elaborate projects, but through simple practices and faithful rhythms that help us live our faith in the midst of everyday life. Here’s what’s coming: Prayer: Ordering Time Around God How can we weave prayer naturally into the rhythms of our homes and create spaces that remind us of God's presence throughout the day? The Table: Shared Meals & Hospitality Why have Christians always placed such importance on gathering around the table, and how can shared meals shape our families and communities? Rhythms & Rituals From Friday fasts to feast day traditions, we will explore how repeated practices form our hearts and anchor us in the life of the Church. Beauty & Creation Gardens, candles, music, handmade objects, and the beauty of the seasons all have a place in the Christian home. We will consider how beauty helps lift our hearts toward God. Presence & Attention In a distracted age, how do we cultivate homes marked by listening, conversation, quiet, and genuine connection? Hospitality & Mercy Christian homes have always been places of welcome. We will explore simple ways to practice generosity, hospitality, and care for others. Formation Through the Liturgical Year How does the Church calendar shape our homes and help us tell the story of Christ throughout the year? Work as Holy Cooking, cleaning, gardening, sewing, parenting, and all the ordinary tasks that fill our days can become opportunities for faithfulness and gratitude. As always, each post will include practical ideas, historical insights, and simple ways to begin incorporating these practices into your own home, regardless of your season of life or experience with liturgical living. Creating a sacred home is not about achieving a particular aesthetic or getting everything right. It is about cultivating a place where faith can flourish, where Christ is welcomed into the ordinary moments of daily life, and where the slow work of spiritual formation can take root. So join me this Ordinary Time as we explore together what it means to create a sacred home. After all, the home has always been one of the most important places where the Christian life is lived.

The Feast of the Visitation (full title: The Visitation of the Virgin Mary to Elizabeth and Zechariah), celebrated on May 31st, commemorates the joyful meeting between the Virgin Mary and her cousin Elizabeth as recorded in the Gospel of Luke. Following the Annunciation, Mary journeyed to the hill country of Judea to visit Elizabeth, who was miraculously expecting John the Baptist in her old age. What unfolds is one of the most beautiful encounters in all of Scripture—a moment filled with joy, recognition, prophecy, and praise. The Visitation reveals God’s faithfulness at work through two faithful women. It is a feast that celebrates the fulfillment of God’s promises, the work of the Holy Spirit, and the recognition of Christ even before his birth. It is also a reminder of the beauty of Christian fellowship as Mary and Elizabeth rejoice together in the marvelous works of God. At the center of this feast are Elizabeth’s prophetic greeting and Mary’s Magnificat, a hymn of praise that has been prayed by Christians for centuries. The Visitation in Scripture After the angel Gabriel announced that she would conceive by the Holy Spirit and bear the Son of God, Mary set out “with haste” to the hill country of Judea to visit her cousin Elizabeth, who was six months pregnant with John the Baptist. Luke tells us that Mary remained with Elizabeth for three months. Upon Mary’s arrival, something extraordinary occurred. Elizabeth’s unborn child leaped within her womb, recognizing the presence of Christ. Filled with the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth proclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! But why is this granted to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”— Luke 1:42–45 These words are remarkable. Before Jesus was born, Elizabeth recognized him as Lord and Messiah. Through the illumination of the Holy Spirit, she perceives what no human eye could yet see. Her greeting also forms part of the prayer Christians have prayed for centuries in the Hail Mary: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” The Visitation is therefore both a deeply personal family encounter and a profound theological revelation. The Magnificat Mary responds to Elizabeth’s greeting with one of the most beloved hymns in all of Scripture, the Magnificat. Named from the opening word of the Latin translation, Magnificat anima mea Dominum (”My soul magnifies the Lord”), this canticle is Mary’s joyful response to God’s grace and faithfulness. My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; For he has regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden. For behold, from now on, all generations will call me blessed; For he that is mighty has magnified me, and holy is his Name. And his mercy is on those who fear him, throughout all generations. He has shown the strength of his arm; he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He has brought down the mighty from their thrones,and has exalted the humble and meek. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent empty away. He, remembering his mercy, has helped his servant Israel, as he promised to our fathers, Abraham and his seed for ever. - Luke 1:46-55 The Magnificat is both intensely personal and profoundly universal. Mary praises God for what he has done in her own life, but she also proclaims his faithfulness throughout salvation history. Her song celebrates God’s mercy, justice, and unwavering commitment to his covenant promises. The themes of reversal that appear throughout the canticle, the humble being exalted, the hungry being filled, and the proud being scattered, point to the coming kingdom of God inaugurated through Christ. Canticles of Faithfulness The Magnificat is one of the Church’s most treasured canticles. A canticle is a psalm-like hymn drawn directly from Scripture, and the Magnificat has been prayed by Christians since the earliest centuries of the Church. It is also known as the Song of Mary, the Canticle of Mary, and in the Byzantine tradition, the Ode of the Theotokos. It is one of four great hymns found within the infancy narratives of Luke’s Gospel: The Magnificat (Luke 1:46–55) The Benedictus, or Song of Zechariah (Luke 1:67–79) The Gloria in Excelsis Deo, sung by the angels (Luke 2:13–14) The Nunc Dimittis, or Song of Simeon (Luke 2:28–32) These ancient hymns became central to Christian worship and eventually found a permanent place within the Liturgy of the Hours and later within the Daily Office of the Book of Common Prayer. Patterned after the hymns of praise found throughout the Psalms, they proclaim God’s mercy, justice, faithfulness, and the fulfillment of his promises to Israel. For nearly two thousand years, Christians have joined their voices with Mary, Zechariah, the angels, and Simeon in praising God through these sacred songs. The Magnificat as Thanksgiving Because of its themes of praise and thanksgiving, the Magnificat became closely associated with Evening Prayer and Vespers. As the day draws to a close, Christians have traditionally prayed Mary’s song in gratitude for God’s faithfulness and providential care. Today it continues to be sung and prayed throughout the world, especially during Advent when the Church reflects upon the events surrounding Christ’s incarnation. The Magnificat serves a rich catechetical purpose. It teaches believers about God’s holiness, mercy, justice, and covenant faithfulness. It reminds us that God lifts up the humble, remembers his promises, and works throughout history to accomplish his purposes. As Christians pray these words repeatedly, they are formed by them. Mary’s song becomes our song. The Meaning of the Visitation The Visitation is far more than a family reunion. It is a passage filled with rich theological significance that reveals God’s redemptive plan unfolding before our eyes. Recognition of Jesus as the Messiah Elizabeth’s greeting is one of the earliest confessions of Jesus as Lord. Before his birth, Jesus was recognized as the promised Messiah. Elizabeth’s declaration, “the mother of my Lord,” affirms both Christ’s identity and Mary’s unique role within salvation history. The Church has long seen in this passage a confirmation of Mary’s title as Theotokos, the God-bearer or Mother of God, not because Mary is the source of Christ’s divinity, but because the child she carries is fully God and fully man. The Role of the Holy Spirit Luke emphasizes the active work of the Holy Spirit throughout this encounter: Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit upon hearing Mary’s greeting and is given divine insight into the identity of Mary’s child. John the Baptist responds to Christ’s presence by leaping within the womb. Mary herself responds with a Spirit-inspired hymn of praise that magnifies God’s greatness and faithfulness. The Visitation reminds us that the Holy Spirit opens our eyes to recognize Christ and empowers us to proclaim God’s mighty works. Mary as the New Ark of the Covenant One of the most beautiful theological themes within the Visitation is the connection between Mary and the Ark of the Covenant. In the Old Testament, the Ark was the sacred dwelling place of God’s presence among his people. It contained the tablets of the Law, the jar of manna, and Aaron’s rod that budded. The Church has long seen these items as foreshadowing Christ: The Tablets of the Law: Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law. The Jar of Manna: Jesus is the Bread of Life. Aaron’s Rod: Jesus is our eternal High Priest. Just as the Ark carried God’s presence, Mary carries Christ himself within her womb. Luke’s account contains striking parallels to 2 Samuel 6. When David encounters the Ark, he exclaims: “How can the ark of the Lord come to me?” Elizabeth echoes these words when she asks: “Why is this granted to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” The parallels continue. The Ark remained in the house of Obed-Edom for three months, bringing blessing to the household. Likewise, Mary remains with Elizabeth for three months, and her presence brings blessing and joy. Both accounts are marked by rejoicing, divine presence, and God’s blessing upon his people. The Importance of Community The Visitation also reminds us of the importance of Christian community. Mary and Elizabeth are united by God’s calling and favor. Together they marvel at what God is doing and encourage one another in faith. The Holy Spirit brings them together not for competition or comparison, but for mutual joy and support. In a culture that often prizes individualism, the Visitation reminds us that God frequently works through relationships and community. We are called to rejoice together, pray together, and bear witness together to God’s faithfulness. A Foretaste of the Church’s Mission The Visitation also foreshadows the mission of the Church. Elizabeth’s prophetic greeting and Mary’s Magnificat both proclaim God’s saving work in Christ. Together they bear witness to the coming Messiah before his birth. In this way, the Visitation anticipates the Church’s ongoing mission to recognize, celebrate, and proclaim God’s presence in the world. Like Mary, we are called to carry Christ into the world. Like Elizabeth, we are called to recognize and rejoice in God’s work. And like both women, we are called to proclaim his faithfulness with joy. Ways to Celebrate: Read Luke 1:39–56 Spend time reading and meditating on the account of the Visitation. Pay special attention to Elizabeth’s greeting and Mary’s Magnificat. Pray the Magnificat Incorporate the Magnificat into your prayer life by praying it during Evening Prayer or as part of your personal devotions. Gather with Friends Because the Visitation celebrates fellowship and shared joy in God’s goodness, consider inviting friends or family to gather together and celebrate the day. Listen to Sacred Music Listen to The Magnificat by John Michael Talbot or another musical setting of Mary’s canticle. Bake a Blueberry Galette Since blue is traditionally associated with the Virgin Mary, a blueberry galette makes a fitting and festive treat for the feast. Galettes are simple rustic pastries filled with fruit, sugar, and butter, a beautiful way to celebrate the day with family and friends. As we celebrate the Feast of the Visitation, may we join Mary and Elizabeth in recognizing God’s presence, rejoicing in his faithfulness, and proclaiming his mighty works. May their example encourage us to magnify the Lord with our lives and trust in the fulfillment of his promises. the recipe - Blueberry Galette Crust: 2 ½ cups all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling 1/4 cup granulated sugar 1/2 teaspoon salt 1 cup unsalted butter, frozen ¼ cup ice water Filling: 4 cups blueberries 1/4 cup sugar 2 tbsp all-purpose flour 1 tbsp lemon zest 2 tbsp lemon juice Egg wash: 1 egg 1 tbsp milk For the pastry: Add the 2 1/2 cups flour, sugar, and salt into a food processor. Give it a few pulses. Cut COLD butter into tbsp-sized pieces. Transfer to a food processor and pulse until the butter is cut into small lentil-sized clumps. Slowly drizzle in about 1/4 cup of the ice water while pulsing the processor. If the mixture doesn’t hold together when you squeeze a clump in your hand, add a bit more water and pulse. Transfer the dough onto a pastry mat or sheet of plastic wrap and knead 2-3 times to help it come together a bit. Gently flatten into a one-inch-thick disk, cover with plastic wrap, and chill for an hour. Once your pie crust is chilled, preheat the oven to 425 F. Remove the dough from the fridge and let it warm up on the counter for a few minutes; this will prevent cracking. Roll the pie crust to about 1/4 of an inch and transfer it to a baking sheet. For the filling: In a bowl, gently stir together the berries, lemon juice, zest, sugar, and flour. For the assembly: In a small bowl, lightly beat the egg with a tablespoon of cream. Spoon the filling onto the dough, leaving a 2-3 inch border uncovered around the edge. Fold the edge up and over the filling, forming loose pleats. Brush pastry with egg wash and sprinkle with sugar if desired. Bake at 425 F until the filling is bubbling and the pastry is golden brown (about 25 minutes). Recipe from Preppy Kitchen.

This Sunday, we entered a new liturgical season: Ordinary Time. And yet, there is nothing “ordinary” about it. After the great feasts and celebrations of Eastertide and Pentecost, the Church now invites us into a long green season of growth, a season not marked by spectacle, but by steady faithfulness. Ordinary Time, sometimes called the season after Pentecost or Trinitytide, is where the Christian life takes root and begins to flourish in the daily rhythms of ordinary life. The word “ordinary” comes from the Latin ordinalis, meaning ordered or numbered time. It is the ordered unfolding of the life of Christ within us. This is the season where we learn what it means not only to celebrate the mysteries of the faith, but to live them. And perhaps this is why Ordinary Time is such a gift. Because most of life is not lived in mountaintop moments. Most of life is lived in kitchens and carpools, at dinner tables and in quiet prayers before bed, in daily work, hidden sacrifices, acts of mercy, repentance, forgiveness, and perseverance. It is here, in the steady and often unseen places of life, that God forms his people. Throughout Scripture, we see that God works not only through miraculous moments but through long seasons of faithfulness. Israel wandered in the wilderness. The disciples learned to follow Christ day by day. The early Church was built through ordinary believers living lives of quiet devotion in the midst of the world. This is the invitation of Ordinary Time: to become faithful disciples in the everyday. The liturgical color for this season is green, symbolizing life, growth, and fruitfulness. Just as the earth flourishes under the warmth of the sun, so too our souls are meant to flourish in the light of Christ. Week by week, we hear the teachings of Jesus proclaimed in the Gospels, his parables, miracles, commands, and call to discipleship, and we are gradually shaped into his likeness. Ordinary Time teaches us that holiness is not found only in extraordinary moments, but in the continual offering of our lives to God. In a culture constantly seeking distraction, novelty, and excitement, this season reminds us of something deeply countercultural: spiritual growth is often quiet, slow, and hidden. The Christian life is not sustained by emotional highs alone, but by abiding in Christ day after day. St. Augustine once wrote: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” Ordinary Time is where we learn that rest, not only in moments of celebration, but in the faithful rhythms of daily prayer, worship, repentance, and love. So as we begin this long green season together, let us embrace its beauty. Let us reclaim the sacredness of ordinary life. Let us seek Christ not only in feast days and celebrations, but also in the quiet moments that make up our days. For even here, especially here, God is at work. And so with the Church throughout the ages, we pray: “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name!” — Psalm 103:1 May this season be one of deep growth, renewed faith, and abiding joy as we walk faithfully with Christ in the everyday moments of life. Ways to Celebrate Read Acts 1 and 2 about the early church flourishing after the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Pray for the Holy Spirit to fill you anew and help you to flourish and grow. Buy my latest liturgical guidebook, The Liturgical Home: Ordinary Time! It gives you everything you need to celebrate the season of Ordinary Time in your home. All of the feast days, their significance and meaning, traditional recipes and ways to celebrate from around the world, and devotions for the special days. You are going to love it! Decorate your home with all things green! I love this beautiful muted green table cloth with cream flowers. These adorable striped napkins, or linen napkins. You could also add a throw pillow like this. Fill a jar or vase with green herbs or branches from the backyard. May God bless you and your family during this season of Ordinary Time!

Pentecost is almost here, which means it is time for one of my favorite simple and meaningful feast day crafts! This Gifts of the Holy Spirit Mobile is such a fun way to celebrate Pentecost together as a family. Children love cutting out the flames, hanging them on branches, and watching them sway in the breeze while learning about the Holy Spirit and the fruits He grows within us. Pentecost is one of the great feast days of the Church year. It is the day that we celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit and the birth of the Church. Fifty days after Easter, the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples like wind and fire, filling them with boldness, courage, and joy. Before Jesus ascended into heaven, He told His disciples to wait and pray in Jerusalem until they received the gift He had promised. Jesus promised to send a Helper and Comforter to His people. Through the Holy Spirit, God would dwell with His people, give them new hearts, and fill them with power to carry the Gospel into the world. What an incredible promise! One of the things I love most about Pentecost is that it reminds us that God does not leave us alone. Through the Holy Spirit, He guides us, comforts us, strengthens us, and transforms us. In Galatians 5, we are told that when the Holy Spirit dwells within us, He produces fruit in our lives. As you make this simple Pentecost mobile together, talk about the fruit of the Spirit and pray that the Holy Spirit would continue to work in your hearts and your home. The Fruits of the Holy Spirit Love Joy Peace Patience Kindness Goodness Faithfulness Gentleness Self-control Ways to Celebrate Pentecost Read Acts 1–2 together as a family and talk about the coming of the Holy Spirit. Read Galatians 5:22–23 and discuss the fruit of the Spirit. Talk about what each fruit means and how we can grow in these virtues through the work of the Holy Spirit. Make a Gifts of the Holy Spirit Mobile. How to Make a Gifts of the Holy Spirit Mobile This simple craft is a beautiful visual reminder of the flames of Pentecost and the fruits of the Holy Spirit. Hang it in your home on Pentecost as a reminder of God’s presence with us. You Will Need: White cardstock or construction paper Yellow, orange, and red cardstock or construction paper Scissors Glue stick Hole punch Twine or string A branch, hanger, or chandelier to hang your mobile from The printable patterns (download below) Instructions: Print the dove and flame patterns onto cardstock or trace them onto your paper. Cut out: One white dove Nine large yellow flames Nine medium orange flames Nine small red flames Glue one orange flame onto each yellow flame. Then glue one red flame on top of each orange flame to create layered flames. Turn the flames over and write one fruit of the Holy Spirit on the back of each flame. Punch a hole near the top of each flame and in the dove. Tie loops of twine through each piece. Arrange the flames and dove on a branch and hang your mobile in your dining room, on your kitchen table, in a window, or anywhere in your home where your family can enjoy it throughout the Pentecost season. As you hang each flame, say a prayer together and ask the Holy Spirit to fill your home with His presence. Happy Pentecost!