Seized by Christ

They are experiencing Christianity as joy and hope, having thus become lovers of Christ.

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  • Black Bones in the Desert: What the Earth Remembers

    How ancient burial sites reveal lost landscapes and the quiet echoes of forgotten worlds

    There’s another story — one that pairs with the image of a skull worn through by the road. In Africa, researchers once came across an ancient cemetery where all the bones had turned black. At first, this baffled them. What kind of people leave behind black bones? Had they discovered some unknown species — perhaps a human ancestor lost to time?

    But then someone offered a simpler, more powerful explanation: bones turn black when soaked in water for long periods of time. These were not alien remains — they were fully human. The mystery wasn’t in the bones, but in the place. The desert in which they were found had once been a wet, fertile land, rich with life and water.

    This discovery reveals something extraordinary: the landscape had changed so completely that we had forgotten its past. What is now arid and desolate was once lush and alive. And all that remains of that former world is a trace in the bones.

    This is a different kind of legacy. It’s not the personal legacy of names or deeds, but the environmental legacy that links humanity to place. These blackened bones do not preserve identity, but they preserve context. They remind us that human history is entwined with ecological history — that the earth itself remembers what we forget.

    In that way, the story becomes deeply symbolic. What seemed alien was entirely human. And what seemed dead was once a place of abundance. The blackness of the bone was not a mark of difference, but a testimony to transformation.

    This is the kind of truth that doesn’t survive in monuments. It isn’t shouted in stone or carved in tablets. It seeps into sediment, stains the bones, and whispers from beneath the surface. It tells us: Something was here. Life was here. And now the world has changed.

    It reminds us that history is not only linear, but layered. And sometimes, only when erosion or excavation peels back those layers do we see what was hidden all along.

    Legacy, then, is not always a matter of being remembered. Sometimes it’s about leaving a trace — in the way we shaped the land, in the ecosystems we touched, in the soil and water and stone that once sustained our lives. We may not endure in memory, but our impact can endure in place.

    The bones do not speak in words. But they carry a message: that human life leaves behind more than names. It leaves behind evidence — clues about the kind of world we inhabited, and perhaps clues about the kind of world we left behind.

    What traces are you leaving behind — in your habits, your choices, and the environments you shape? What will the earth remember of your world?

  • Skull in the Dust:

    What Will Remain of Us?

    There’s a story I once heard: someone walking along a dirt road in Africa noticed a strange shape protruding from the path. It turned out to be the cross-section of a skull — not from a recent burial, but something ancient. Scientists later determined that it was roughly 5,000 years old. It had been buried for millennia, forgotten by history, and only revealed by the slow wearing-down of the road.

    It’s a striking image — a human life, reduced to bone, indistinguishable from the dust until chance erosion reveals it again. One person among untold millions, completely forgotten in name, story, and song. No monument, no footnote in a book — just a fragment of skull, sliced clean by time.

    But the image also invites a deeper reflection. What remains of a person when everything personal is erased? If no one remembers your name, were you part of anything that mattered?

    This is the question at the heart of human legacy.

    Jordan Peterson says that society is built on the backs of heroes — and that innovation builds on innovation forever. While some figures stand out in the narrative of history, many of the contributions that make civilization possible were anonymous. The tools, customs, stories, and rituals passed down through oral tradition or simple imitation — many of these came from people whose names we will never know.

    So it’s possible that the person whose skull was found contributed to something vital. Perhaps they preserved a hunting technique, crafted a tool, or passed on a story that taught their children caution or courage. Maybe their tribe developed a cooperative structure that influenced others. And perhaps that contribution set off a chain of developments that, hundreds or thousands of years later, became part of the infrastructure of modern life.

    What appears as complete erasure might actually be buried continuity — the quiet impact of anonymous lives shaping the foundations of civilization.

    The road that wore through the skull could also symbolize the road of history itself — a slow and relentless passage that wears away individuals but reveals deeper layers of inheritance. Each generation walks over the last, compressing it into the foundation of the next.

    This is both humbling and meaningful. On one hand, we will all be forgotten. On the other hand, our lives — even our suffering — may carry forward ripples that shape the world long after we’re gone. The systems we participate in, the children we raise, the words we share, the kindness we show — these things outlive us in ways we can’t always predict.

    We should not seek legacy in fame or monuments. We should seek to live in such a way that what we pass on — whether directly or indirectly — becomes a sturdy stone in the road of civilization. Even if no one ever knows it was ours.

    Have you ever considered that your quiet daily choices — even your pain — might form part of a foundation others will build on? What road are you paving?

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT

  •  Is Moral Laziness Really Just Trauma?

    Rediscovering Curiosity After Pain

    Not Laziness—But Woundedness

    When Jordan Peterson warns against “moral laziness,” he isn’t simply wagging a finger at the unmotivated. He’s pointing to a deeper tragedy: the collapse of curiosity, responsibility, and courage after someone has suffered.

    We often label people as lazy when they don’t act, don’t grow, don’t take responsibility. But what if that inaction is not due to weakness, but to pain?

    What if “laziness” is just the visible surface of a soul in retreat?

    The Collapse of Curiosity

    Curiosity is what drives us to explore the unknown. It’s the fuel of courage, learning, and transformation. But trauma teaches the opposite lesson:

    • That the unknown is dangerous.
    • That risk leads to pain.
    • That effort ends in failure.

    So the traumatized person stops reaching. Stops trying. Stops hoping.

    What we call “moral laziness” is often a survival instinct—an attempt to avoid more wounding by refusing to step forward. But over time, this self-protection becomes self-destruction.

    The Adversary: A Reaction to Pain

    Peterson often connects moral laziness to the formation of the adversary—the one who resents, who destroys, who hates existence itself. But this adversary is not born evil.

    They are formed through suffering that was never healed:

    • Betrayal that was never understood.
    • Chaos that was never ordered.
    • Responsibility that felt too heavy to bear.

    Over time, the protective shield of “doing nothing” hardens into a philosophy of nihilism, or a hunger for control and vengeance. The adversary grows, not from ambition, but from despair.

    The Moral Capacity Remains

    And yet—the potential for goodness remains.

    Even in deep avoidance, moral capacity still flickers:

    • The desire for meaning has not fully died.
    • The hunger for love and truth still echoes.
    • The will to be better still whispers beneath the silence.

    This is why healing matters—not just emotionally, but morally. Because healing reawakens the capacity to engage the world as it is. It restores the courage to act.

    Healing Restores Curiosity

    When the wound is seen, when the fear is named, when the soul is gently drawn out of hiding—curiosity returns.

    • The heart opens to new questions.
    • The eyes see beauty again.
    • The will to participate in life is rekindled.

    This is how the hero rises: not by avoiding pain, but by moving through it with support, grace, and growing strength.

    From Paralysis to Purpose

    If you’re stuck in procrastination or inaction, you’re not defective. You may simply be protecting yourself from a world that once felt too dangerous.

    But healing is possible.

    And as healing takes root, curiosity revives, responsibility feels lighter, and the heroic path becomes visible again. You were not made for paralysis. You were made for meaning.

  •  Is Procrastination Laziness or a Trauma Response?

    Understanding the Path to the Adversary

    You’ve probably heard it said—or told yourself—that procrastination is a sign of laziness. But what if it’s not? What if it’s something much deeper, more human, and more dangerous?

    A viral quote puts it like this:

    “Procrastination is not laziness. It is a trauma response.”

    At first glance, that may sound dramatic. But modern psychology—and ancient wisdom—both affirm the same truth: avoidance often hides fear, and fear often hides trauma.

    Trauma and the Freeze Response

    Trauma doesn’t always look like panic or breakdown. Sometimes it looks like numbness. Stillness. Delay.

    When our nervous system perceives danger, we might fight or flee—but we also might freeze. That’s where procrastination often lives. Not in comfort, but in a kind of paralysis. We avoid the task, not because we’re unmotivated, but because the task feels threatening. Failing might prove we’re unworthy. Succeeding might expose us to expectations we’re afraid to carry.

    So we wait. And wait. And beat ourselves up for waiting.

    Peterson: The Seed of the Adversary is Laziness

    Jordan Peterson often frames this “laziness” in moral and spiritual terms. In Maps of Meaning, he explores how small acts of avoidance can evolve into resentment, and then into outright destruction.

    The person who refuses responsibility becomes bitter. The bitter become vengeful. And eventually, the vengeful become adversaries—not just of others, but of Being itself.

    So what begins as “laziness” is often a refusal to confront suffering. But beneath that refusal is usually pain—unprocessed, unresolved, and growing in the dark.

    The Progression: From Trauma to the Adversary

    Here’s how it unfolds:

    1. Trauma — A betrayal, a failure, or a moment of chaos shakes our sense of order.
    2. Fear — We begin to dread further pain, judgment, or exposure.
    3. Avoidance — Procrastination kicks in, disguised as laziness.
    4. Stagnation — Inaction compounds. Life doesn’t move. Self-contempt grows.
    5. Resentment — We start blaming ourselves, then others, then the world.
    6. Formation of the Adversary — We harden into a posture of defiance or decay, no longer seeking healing—only power, revenge, or numbness.

    This is how the adversary is born: not in grand acts of evil, but in a thousand quiet refusals to face suffering with courage.

    The Hero Responds Differently

    The difference between the hero and the adversary is not that one suffers and the other doesn’t. They both suffer. The difference is what they choose to do with it.

    • The adversary avoids, freezes, and resents.
    • The hero confronts, moves forward, and transforms.

    To break the cycle of procrastination, we must stop condemning ourselves as lazy and start asking deeper questions. Where does this fear come from? What pain am I avoiding? What burden am I afraid to lift?

    Redeeming the Pattern

    If procrastination is a trauma response, then the solution isn’t punishment—it’s healing.

    That healing begins with:

    • Understanding that your inaction may be protective, not passive.
    • Compassion toward yourself as someone doing their best with past pain.
    • Courage to take one small step into the unknown—despite fear.

    You are not lazy. You are a soul that’s been wounded. But you don’t have to become the adversary. You can become the hero instead.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT

  • Is Hell Still in the Bible?

    Understanding Modern Catholic Translations and Why It Matters

    Q: Why doesn’t the word “Hell” appear in modern Catholic Bibles like the NABRE?

    You’re not imagining it. In the New American Bible Revised Edition (NABRE), the word “Hell” rarely — if ever — appears. This has caused confusion among faithful Catholics who are used to older translations like the Douay-Rheims or hearing homilies about Hell as a real place of punishment.

    So what changed?

    It’s not the doctrine — it’s the translation. Scholars decided to preserve the original words used in the Bible:

    Original TermLanguageMeaning
    SheolHebrewThe grave / abode of the dead (neutral)
    HadesGreekThe Greek underworld (similar to Sheol)
    GehennaGreekA place of fiery judgment — used by Jesus

    These words are now translated more literally instead of using “Hell” as a catch-all. But that doesn’t mean the Church denies the existence of Hell.

    Q: So is there still a Hell?

    Yes. The Catholic Church absolutely affirms Hell as:

    “The state of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed.”
    — Catechism of the Catholic Church, §1033

    It is not just a metaphor or ancient idea. It’s the final, eternal consequence of dying in unrepented mortal sin.

    Q: Why would translators avoid the word “Hell” if it’s real?

    Because over the centuries, the word “Hell” took on very specific imagery and connotations — often shaped more by culture than Scripture. By using original words like “Gehenna,” translators aim to:

    • Reflect the nuance in the biblical text
    • Avoid oversimplification
    • Encourage deeper catechesis and understanding

    But here’s the problem:

    Most lay Catholics have no idea what “Gehenna” means.

    Q: Does this cause confusion?

    Absolutely. When the word “Hell” disappears, many assume the Church is backing off from the doctrine. This confusion is compounded by:

    • Homilies that never mention judgment or sin
    • Liturgy and hymns stripped of sacrifice or spiritual warfare
    • A growing trend toward universalism (the idea that everyone goes to Heaven)

    Q: So what does the Church teach about the afterlife?

    Traditionally, Catholicism affirms:

    1. Heaven – Eternal union with God for those who die in His friendship.
    2. Purgatory – Temporary purification for those on their way to Heaven.
    3. Hell – Eternal separation from God for those who freely reject Him.

    Before Christ’s resurrection, even the righteous dead went to Sheol — a holding place, not Heaven. That’s why we say in the Apostles’ Creed:

    “He descended into Hell” — meaning the abode of the dead, not the damned.

    After His resurrection, Heaven was opened — and now judgment is final.

    Q: Why does it matter if we talk about Hell?

    Because without Hell, morality becomes optional.

    • If there’s no eternal consequence, why repent?
    • If everyone goes to Heaven, why choose holiness?
    • If God never judges, why did Christ die?

    “Do not fear those who kill the body… fear him who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.” — Matthew 10:28

    Q: What’s behind the move away from talking about Hell?

    Let’s be honest:

    • “Hell” makes people uncomfortable.
    • Modern theology often trades truth for sentiment.
    • Cultural pressure values inclusivity over conversion.

    But:

    Real love warns.

    God is love — and because He loves us, He warns us. Jesus spoke of Hell more than anyone else in Scripture. Not to scare us pointlessly — but to wake us up.

    ✅ Layperson Summary:

    • Is Hell in the Bible? Yes, but often under original terms like “Gehenna.”
    • Does the Church still teach Hell? Yes, as an eternal state of self-exclusion from God.
    • Is it just a metaphor? No. It’s a real and final consequence.
    • Why avoid it? Some translators aim for accuracy, but clarity suffers.
    • Why it matters: Without Hell, we lose the urgency of repentance and the meaning of salvation.

    What You Can Do:

    • Read Scripture with traditional commentary (e.g., the Catena Aurea)
    • Use catechisms and older missals to understand Church teaching
    • Teach your children and friends the full truth — not a softened version
    • Speak up in your parish — charitably but firmly — when the doctrine is blurred

    Because the God who is Love… is also the God who warns.

  •  Why Does Pope Benedict Connect New Testament Love with Old Testament Commandments?

    Understanding the continuity of love in salvation history through the lens of Deus Caritas Est

    In Deus Caritas Est, Pope Benedict XVI teaches that Christian love isn’t something radically new—it grows from the soil of Israel’s covenant. By connecting the New Testament emphasis on love with Old Testament commandments, he roots Christian charity in the very heart of divine revelation. His point is not to discard the old, but to show how Christ fulfills it with new depth and clarity.

    Continuity of the Covenant

    From the beginning of his encyclical, Pope Benedict makes this continuity clear:

    “The Christian faith, while retaining the core of Israel’s faith, gives it new depth and breadth.” (Deus Caritas Est §1)

    He quotes the great Shema of Israel:

    “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart…” (Deuteronomy 6:4–5)

    Love of God, then, was never absent from the faith of Israel—it was central. What Jesus brings is not a break from the past, but its true fulfillment.

    Jesus Fulfills the Law in Love

    Jesus joins this vertical command to another, found in Leviticus:

    “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18)

    In the Gospel of Mark, He unites the two into one supreme law of love:

    “There is no other commandment greater than these.” (Mark 12:29–31)

    Pope Benedict highlights this to show that Jesus didn’t abolish the commandments, but revealed their full meaning. Love, properly understood, is the essence of the Law.

    From Obligation to Response

    Why do we love? Because “God has first loved us.” (1 John 4:10)
    This shifts everything. Love is no longer a heavy demand—it’s a response. Benedict writes that when love begins in God’s gift, the “command” to love is transformed into an invitation to relationship.

    Thus, keeping the commandments becomes a matter not of fear or duty, but of joy. Love of God leads naturally to love of neighbor.

    A Two-Fold Orientation: Vertical and Horizontal

    By presenting these two commands as one, Jesus shows that Christian love must always move in two directions:

    • Vertical – Toward God in worship and devotion
    • Horizontal – Toward neighbor in service and charity

    Pope Benedict stresses that these cannot be separated. True love of God leads to care for others, and real love for others flows from communion with God.

  • What Does “God Loved Us First” Really Imply About How We Should Respond?

    Understanding our response to God’s initiative of love in Deus Caritas Est

    Pope Benedict XVI, drawing from 1 John 4:19—“We love because he first loved us”—teaches that Christian life begins not with obligation, but with a gift already received. Deus Caritas Est emphasizes that the initiative always belongs to God. This simple truth changes how we see love, discipleship, and mission: not as burdens we must carry to earn God’s favor, but as responses to a love that came before we even asked for it.

    1. Our Response Is Rooted in Gratitude, Not Obligation

    If God loved us first, our love isn’t about earning approval—it’s about responding with thanksgiving.

    “Gratitude over guilt”: Love becomes a joyful act, not a duty pressed by fear.
    “Freedom to love”: Knowing we are fully accepted frees us to forgive, serve, and give without fear of failure or rejection.

    2. Trust Before Understanding

    God’s love often reaches us before we understand it. That means faith begins not with full comprehension but with trust.

    “Leap of faith”: As St. Paul says, nothing can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8:38–39), even when life is confusing or painful.
    “Perseverance in trials”: Because “while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8), we know His love doesn’t waver in our weakness.

    3. Imitation of Divine Initiative

    If God made the first move, so must we—especially in a world where love often waits to be earned.

    “Be the first mover”: Take the first step in kindness, reconciliation, and service.
    “Mercy and forgiveness”: We love not because others deserve it, but because we ourselves have received undeserved love.

    4. Mission and Witness

    Pope Benedict reminds us that love is never private. Our response to God’s love becomes public through action.

    “Proclamation through love”: Our quiet sacrifices and small acts of care preach the Gospel more clearly than words alone.
    “Communal dimension”: In the parish, “loving first” means reaching out to newcomers, showing compassion to the overlooked, and making space for everyone at the table.

    Follow Up Question:

    Can you share an example of when someone loved you “first”—unexpectedly or unconditionally—and how that changed the way you related to them afterward? How might we imitate that in our parish community?

  • If Love Is the Main Christian Message, Why Does the Church Seem So Strict at Times?

    Understanding how Church discipline flows from love, not contradiction

    This question gets to the heart of a common struggle: If Christianity is centered on love, why does the Church often feel like a place of rules, restrictions, and prohibitions?

    Pope Benedict XVI anticipated this very question in Deus Caritas Est, where he asks bluntly:

    “Doesn’t the Church, with all her commandments and prohibitions, turn to bitterness the most precious thing in life?”

    The answer, as Benedict explains, is not to dismiss the rules—but to reconnect them with love. When love is forgotten, rules can feel cold or burdensome. But when love is central, even the strictness of the Church is revealed to be a form of protection and guidance.

    1. Benedict’s Challenge: Love Must Ground the Rules

    Rules lose their meaning when disconnected from love. That’s why Benedict insists the Church must re-anchor every commandment in God’s love.

    Christian morality, then, is not a burdensome legal code—it is a path of grateful response to the One who loved us first. It flows from relationship, not performance.

    2. Rules as Protective Boundaries, Not Arbitrary Limits

    Church teachings are not random restrictions. They are moral guardrails, meant to preserve human dignity and protect the possibility of real love.

    Safeguarding dignity: Certain behaviors wound ourselves and others. Catholic teaching identifies and warns against them to prevent harm.
    Map to freedom: The Church teaches that true freedom is not doing whatever we want, but doing what is good. Love needs discipline in order to grow.

    3. Loving Discipline from a Spiritual Parent

    The Church sees herself as both mother and teacher. Just as a parent sets boundaries for their child’s safety and growth, so too the Church offers moral discipline for our spiritual development.

    Spiritual fatherhood and motherhood: Rules shape conscience and virtue. They help form people capable of real, sacrificial love—not just fleeting emotion.

    4. Historical Roots: Guarding the Faith

    From the early Church to the present, moral clarity has been essential:

    Councils and canons fought heresy and spiritual confusion.
    Medieval moral theology gave believers a practical roadmap to holiness.
    Today, Pope Benedict invites us to rediscover that path—not as cold rules, but as love in action.

    The goal is not legalism. The goal is love that is wise, ordered, and enduring.

    Follow-up Question:

    Can you think of a Church teaching or rule that felt restrictive at first, but later you saw how it protected or deepened your experience of God’s love?

  • Pope Paul VI Laments Lack of Heroism in our Culture and Our Church

    “We cannot detach ourselves from the dominant thought in the Church during this period of preparation for Easter. It is the thought of penitence, which contrasts with our habits and mentality. We direct all our intentions and efforts toward removing from our lives anything that causes us suffering, pain, discomfort, or inconvenience; we are oriented toward a continuous search for comfort, enjoyment, and amusement; we want to be surrounded by well-being, ease, good health, and luck; everything we do is to reduce effort and fatigue; in the end, we are people who want to enjoy life: a good meal, a good bed, a pleasant walk, an enjoyable show, a good salary… this is the ideal. Hedonism is the common philosophy, the dream of existence for many of our contemporaries. We want everything to be easy, soft, hygienic, rational, perfect around us. Why penitence? Is there really a need to sadden the soul with such a thought? Where does such an unpleasant call come from? Is it not an offense to our modern conception of man?

    This apologetic monologue on “comfort,” as an expression of the ideal way to spend the years of our life, could go on at length, documenting excellent reasoning and even better experiences; but at a certain point, it must stop in the face of no less valid objections: do we want to make our life soft, mediocre? Idle and weak, without the patience and effort of great virtues? Where is the striving, where is the heroism that gives man his true and best stature? Where is the mastery over our laziness and inherent cowardice? And then: how can we arm our spirit in the face of suffering and misfortunes, which life does not spare us? And how can we give love its true and highest measure, which is the gift of self sacrifice? And is not sacrifice, this attitude, by its nature, classified in the great book of penitence?”

    A note should be made about the mention about the true and highest measure of love being self-sacrifice: In reality, the highest measure of love should be selfless sacrifice. That would be totally not taking self into account when loving. In fact, maybe the word sacrifice is already too self-facing.

    GA PPVI 1MAR1972W Penitence: Obligatory and Possible for All

  •  Why John 3:16 Still Matters

    (and How to Hear It Anew)

    Q4: “Why does John 3:16 matter so much—haven’t we heard it so often that it loses meaning?”

    Answer:

    John 3:16 may be the most familiar verse in all of Scripture, but that familiarity can dull its impact. When we pause to truly reflect on what it says, we uncover the entire Gospel in one line—a line that reveals who God is, what He does, and how we are called to respond.

    1. The Gospel in One Sentence

    • God’s Initiative:
       The verse doesn’t begin with our effort. It begins with God’s love. “God so loved the world…” means He made the first move. His love is not reactive—it’s freely given.
    • The Gift of His Son:
       Love isn’t just a feeling here—it’s action. God gave His only Son. That’s not poetry; it’s the painful reality of the Cross, where divine love bore real suffering to save us.
    • Belief That Brings Life:
       Believing in Jesus means entrusting ourselves to Him. The result? Not just avoidance of perishing, but the gift of eternal life—a transformed life starting now.

    This is why the early Church, the Reformers, and modern evangelists have all held this verse so dearly. It’s a compact version of the entire Christian message.

    2. The Danger of Over-Familiarity

    • We Hear Without Listening:
       We’ve seen John 3:16 on signs, T-shirts, and bumper stickers. It becomes background noise—true, but unengaging.
    • We Lose the Weight of It:
       The words are simple, but their meaning is not. This verse speaks of cosmic love and costly redemption—things we shouldn’t glide past.
    • It No Longer Moves Us:
       Familiarity can harden the heart. But the Word of God isn’t meant to be skimmed. It’s meant to pierce, comfort, and renew.

    3. Ways to Hear It Anew

    • Reimagine the Scene:
       Imagine being at the foot of the Cross or standing before the empty tomb. What does it mean for God to give His Son there?
    • Personalize It:
       Insert your name into the verse: “For God so loved [Your Name]…” That’s not self-centered—it’s the point. God’s love is deeply personal.
    • Use Lectio Divina:
       Slowly read John 3:16 four times, focusing each time on a different word or phrase—like “loved,” “gave,” or “eternal.” What stirs in your spirit?
    • Share It Anew:
       Try telling a friend why John 3:16 matters to you today. Giving voice to Scripture helps break the dullness of repetition.

    4. Biblical and Historical Echoes

    • Early Church:
       Used John 3:16 as a summary creed for new Christians, especially at baptisms.
    • Reformation Era:
       Luther and Calvin frequently returned to this verse to emphasize grace and faith, countering legalism and works-based salvation.
    • Modern Witness:
       This verse still appears in hymns, testimonies, and public evangelism—not because it’s cliché, but because it’s central.

    Discussion Prompt:
     When you hear John 3:16 today, which word or phrase jumps out at you? Why? How might focusing on just that one part reshape how you see God’s love for you?

    Composed and edited with assistance from ChatGPT

    Related Posts:

    “Deus Caritas Est” Summary Sections 1 thru 8

    What Does It Mean to Truly Meet Jesus?

    Why Does Christianity Feel Like It’s All About Rules?

    How Do I Know If I’ve Truly Encountered God’s Love?