Navigating Faith

This morning after Mass, one of the OCIA teachers walked up to me and asked, “When are you going to do right?” I laughed, caught off guard—I genuinely didn’t know what she meant. She smiled and said,   “We just have to bust down those walls so you can officially become Catholic!” I replied kindly,   “Well, I am a catholic.” She responded,   “I think you mean little ‘c’ catholic.” I nodded and said,   “Yeah, but that’s what Jesus founded—a universal church. I don’t believe it was the capital ‘C’ Catholic Church. That structure came years later.” She kept pressing, and in a moment of genuine curiosity I asked, “If we’re truly apostolic, then why aren’t we Jewish?” Silence. She followed with,   “Well, you have to be Catholic to take the Eucharist.” Then I gently asked,   “Where does the Bible say that?” More silence. I added,   “Ya know, that’s just not important to me. Besides, you can’t prove Jesus was speaking literally when He spoke of the Eucharist. ...

In May of 1999, CBS aired a miniseries about Joan of Arc. I was just a teenager, but something in me knew I had to see it. The cast was impressive—Leelee Sobieski as Joan, alongside Peter O’Toole, Olympia Dukakis, Shirley MacLaine, Neil Patrick Harris, and Jacqueline Bisset. My parents weren’t too eager about it, but I recorded it on our old VCR, expecting a dramatic story about war and valor. What I encountered, though, was something far deeper. Through that film, Joan’s life awakened something within me—something holy. Yes, I knew parts were dramatized, but her courage, her steadfast faith, her willingness to walk into the fire for what she believed—those things stayed with me. Joan of Arc wasn’t just a heroine from a history book anymore. She became a companion in my own spiritual journey. Over the years, I kept returning to her story. And as life unfolded—its trials, doubts, and moments of quiet struggle—Joan’s example began to shine more clearly. She wasn’t just brave on the battl...

I’ve said it many times before, and I’ll keep saying it: being Catholic will always be an experience in my family. That’s not just because of theology—it’s because of my story. I was raised in a traditional Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) church. My maternal grandfather was an assistant pastor at a small Pentecostal/holiness congregation, so my mom grew up in a deeply charismatic environment. Church was non-negotiable. If the doors were open, they were there. My dad’s upbringing was different—his father was a moonshiner, and while they went to church occasionally, it wasn’t regular or structured. In between those two worlds—Pentecostal intensity and Baptist formality—I was raised. But what my parents gave me, more than any creed or custom, was a gift that I now realize was extraordinary: freedom. Not just the freedom to choose my own hobbies or pick out my clothes. It was the sacred kind of freedom—the kind that allows a child to ask hard questions, explore unfamiliar paths, and wre...

In a world that’s often polarized, it’s easy for people to retreat into their own echo chambers, believing their perspective is the only valid one. This can be especially true when it comes to deeply held religious beliefs. One of the most common and damaging responses in these situations is name-calling, especially when someone dares to hold a different opinion. In Catholic discourse, calling someone a "heretic" is one such example—used as a weapon to silence or belittle others who simply express an alternative viewpoint. The act of name-calling, especially labeling someone a heretic, is both immature and counterproductive. It reflects an inability to engage with differing opinions thoughtfully and respectfully. Most importantly, it undermines the very principles of Christian fellowship and communion. What Does "Heretic" Mean? The term "heretic" has deep and serious connotations. According to the Oxford Dictionary, a heretic is “a person holding a belief ...

As a theologian trained at the world’s largest Christian university, where I was often the only female in my classes, I write this article with the knowledge and experience gained through rigorous academic study. Additionally, as a former Candidate for Ordination in the United Methodist Church prior to the schism, I have a personal and theological interest in the ongoing discussion surrounding women in ministry, particularly in the Catholic Church. The role of women in ministry remains one of the most debated topics within the global Church, particularly in Catholicism. While the Church maintains that priestly ordination is reserved to men, many Catholic women serve in essential leadership and ministerial roles—from religious sisters to theologians, spiritual directors, canon lawyers, and heads of diocesan offices. However, some point to scripture—particularly 1 Timothy 2:11–12—as a reason to deny any expanded role for women in Catholic ministry. The 1 Timothy Objection: “Let a woman l...

“ May peace be with all of you.” These were the first public words of Pope Leo XIV as he stepped onto the balcony above St. Peter’s Square, just after 6 p. m. on May 8, 2025. Though simple and traditional, those words marked the beginning of what could become a pivotal papacy for a Church— and a world— grappling with deep divisions. Today, the Catholic Church welcomed a new shepherd. Pope Leo XIV, formerly Cardinal Robert Prevost, has already been described by many as a centrist or moderate figure— a man rooted in the Church’s long- standing tradition, yet open to engaging the complex realities of our modern world. He steps into leadership following Pope Francis’s transformative legacy, and with the weighty task of maintaining unity in a deeply diverse and often polarized global Church. A Bridge Between Worlds Why does a centrist pope matter? In a time when the Church— like the world— is marked by ideological rifts, a moderate voice can be uniquely powerful. A centrist leader is of...

As the world looks ahead to the future of the Catholic Church, there's a growing buzz among the faithful:   "What kind of pope will we get next?"   Whether whispered in pews, shared on social media, or discussed over coffee, the question reflects a deeper desire—some hoping for continuity with Pope Francis, others praying for a return to tradition. Many are watching Bishop-Cardinal Luis Antonio Tagle, who is often seen as a spiritual son of Francis. But why? Tagle, Francis, and the LGBTQIA+ Conversation Many of those who favor Cardinal Tagle see him as someone who will continue Pope Francis' pastoral tone—especially toward the LGBTQIA+ community. But it's important to distinguish tone from teaching. Pope Francis made headlines when he allowed priests to bless individuals who identify as LGBTQIA+, so long as the blessing is not a celebration of a union contrary to Catholic teaching. This distinction is key. The Vatican’s document   Fiducia Supplicans   (2023) clari...

In OCIA this was an image that was used to help explain the Trinity. ENJOY

I’m not officially Catholic, though I regularly attend Mass and have deep respect for the Church and her teachings. What I   am   officially is a theologian—someone who has studied Scripture academically and spiritually for most of my life. I’ve been reading the Bible since I was nine, and I earned my seminary degree with the intention of better understanding God, not sensationalizing Him. So while I may stand in a “semi-official” place when it comes to Catholicism, I speak with the full weight of my theological conscience when I say this: the viral AI-generated image of Donald Trump dressed as the Pope is not just absurd—it is spiritually offensive. Let me be transparent. I voted for Donald Trump in the 2020 election—not out of deep loyalty, but because my retirement investments fared well during his first term. Ironically, they’ve done well under President Biden too. My vote was never about blind allegiance to a party or a man. It was pragmatic. But what I saw in the “Trump ...