Catherine's Cafe Vocation Blog

It was an ordinary event, a village wedding, one where everyone knew everyone else and no one expected any surprises, just a good time and some decent wine.  Except that wedding at Cana, told by the writer of John’s gospel, was far from ordinary, for Mary, for Jesus, for the wine steward, for the happy couple who pleased their guests beyond expectation – and for us.  Although we call this liturgical season “Ordinary Time” do we need to adjust our vision, our thinking, our attitude to see   beyond   what is right in front of us, to see   into   what is right in front of us, to see with the heart? Can our faith help our vision not to be completely obscured by covid exhaustion, mask frustration, absent friends and family, economic struggle – the list could go on and on.  Mary says to the steward, “Do whatever he tells you.”  We must interpret that line, that mandate, for ourselves, in our ordinary events, our time.  Love, patience, risk taking, ...

Is anything really ordinary? It’s January and it’s raining and 50 degrees.   If you’re a sports fan, it’s an extraordinary season of playoffs and tournaments; if you’re a movie buff, it’s award season.   But what about “Ordinary Time” in our liturgical life?   In our daily life?   Is there really such a thing?   In the late ‘70’s the novel Ordinary People became a best seller – about a family who tried to appear ordinary but underneath seethed with suffering, fear, and loss.   How often do we say or think our day was “just ordinary” when, if we look closely, we could find all kinds of small ways that grace broke in.   In his homily on New Year’s, Pope Francis used a phrase that I think applies to all of us ordinary people who do ordinary things, but try to do them in faith, with the gospel as our guide.   Pope Francis said that it’s these everyday people, the ordinary people, who are “the artisans of the common good.”     Now there’s...

A thought has been consistently pestering me, filling me with awe for quite some time, particularly over the last few years.  Although difficult for me to articulate well, I am consistently reminded how ordinary and extraordinary, how significant and insignificant we all are. I have met many people from all walks of life since joining the Sinsinawa Dominicans five short years ago, and many more people before that.   Incredibly gifted yet incredibly ordinary people, doing incredibly good yet incredibly ordinary works.   Each one uniquely created yet each created in the image and likeness of God.   But 5-1/2 years ago I was not aware of their existence, and vice versa. Imagine!   I guess what I’m trying to say is that we are surrounded by incredible stories that we may never hear, stories of people we may never meet – whose lives, like our own, are filled with passion and sorrow, hopes and fears, doubt and deep faith and stumbling faith.   Stories ...