Seized by Christ

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

  • New Dunbar:

    Rethinking Relationships in Modern Life

    Dunbar’s Number—the idea that humans can sustain about 150 meaningful relationships—has often been cited as a kind of upper limit of social capacity. But there’s a catch: Dunbar’s research comes largely from survival contexts. Soldiers, tribes, or explorers under hazardous conditions can sustain that many bonds because their very lives depend on it.

    That raises a question: is it even realistic to apply the same model to our own prosperous and distracted society, where survival doesn’t force us into deep dependence on one another?

    The Reality of Time in Modern Life

    Families today often struggle to carve out even thirty minutes of true connection per week per person. Careers, commutes, and constant media distractions consume most of our energy. Unlike survival situations, there is no “hazardous condition” compelling us to give that time to each other.

    Instead, research suggests that most people sustain relationships in smaller tiers:

    • ~5 intimate relationships (spouse, kids, best friend)
    • ~15 close friends (trusted, dependable)
    • ~50 casual friends (social, supportive but not deeply involved)
    • ~150 acquaintances (faces you recognize, people you greet, maybe occasional interaction)

    The idea of giving thirty minutes a week to 150 people simply does not fit modern life.

    What Purpose Is Strong Enough?

    If survival is not the binding force, what kind of purpose can motivate us to invest deeply in others? A few possibilities stand out:

    • Shared mission: groups that see themselves on a spiritual journey together, not just social clubs.
    • Shared suffering: support networks for addiction, illness, grief, or persecution.
    • Shared growth: intentional groups that pursue holiness, spiritual discipline, or formation.

    Without this sense of necessity, relationships often default to shallow banter, logistics, or distractions.

    A Practical Adaptation: The MicroSphere

    If thirty minutes per week per person is unrealistic, perhaps the MicroSphere model can be reframed for modern life:

    • Core MicroSphere: 3–5 people with whom you share weekly conversation, prayer, or accountability. (This might be two hours together, but it touches everyone deeply.)
    • Support Sphere: 10–15 people you connect with at least monthly, sharing faith and encouragement.
    • Outer Sphere: 50–150 acquaintances you know, pray for, and occasionally interact with.

    This layered approach makes room for reality: we cannot invest equally in everyone. But we also cannot reduce community to casual surface contact.

    Why This Matters for the Church

    If we want the Church to be more than Sunday attendance, we need these MicroSpheres of intentional connection. Banter and shared projects may keep us loosely tied, but true growth happens when men and women share purpose, open up about meaning, and walk with one another in faith.

    Dunbar’s insights remain helpful—but only if we adapt them. Our challenge today is not survival, but mission. And that requires building communities strong enough to resist isolation, and deep enough to carry us together toward Christ.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • The Indelible Mark of Character

    Our lives always bear a seal—whether from Christ, from sin, or from the wounds we carry.

    Connected with the concept of “servant” is the image of the indelible character, which has become part of the Church’s faith. In the language of late antiquity, “character” meant the seal or stamp of possession by which a thing, an animal, or even a person was marked. Once given, it could not be erased. Property so marked was irrevocably identified as belonging to its master.

    Cardinal Ratzinger explains that this “character” is more than a symbol. It is a belonging that becomes part of a person’s very existence, calling after its owner. It is an image of relationship and reference—our lives are never neutral; they always show who we belong to.

    This truth has a sharp edge for our time. Many say they are “interested” in faith but claim they have no time to practice it. But our actions—and inactions—reveal who or what owns us. If God does not mark us, something else will.

    At the same time, life’s wounds leave marks of their own. A traumatic experience can burn itself into character. When a young person loses a parent or suffers abuse, the damage can feel irreversible, like a kind of spiritual PTSD. It alters how they act and even who they seem to become. Many forms of “abnormal” behavior are not just choices but scars that have hardened into character.

    That is why forgiveness matters so deeply. If vengeance or remorse are left unchecked, they can take possession of us until they define our whole being. To forgive and let go is not weakness—it is a way of guarding our character, preventing sin and bitterness from stamping us with their seal.

    Ultimately, the only true freedom is to belong to Christ, who marks us in baptism and calls us His own forever. In Him, even the scars of trauma can be transfigured, no longer chains but signs of grace.

    Ref: Cardinal Ratzinger; Pilgrim Fellowship of Faith p.162 last paragraph.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Feeding Bellies, Starving Souls

    Why Charity Alone Is Not Enough

    I once came across a piercing phrase: “Catholic Charities: feeding bellies; starving souls.” It stayed with me because it names a real temptation for Christians in our time: to give generously to the body, while neglecting the soul.

    Of course, corporal works of mercy are essential. Jesus tells us to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and shelter the homeless. And Catholic institutions do this at a massive scale. But if that is where mercy ends, we have fallen short.

    Physical hunger is serious, but spiritual hunger is eternal. Jesus did not only multiply loaves. He said, “I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to Me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in Me shall never thirst” (Jn 6:35).

    If we only fill stomachs without pointing people to Christ, we risk leaving them starved in the most important way. A man with bread in his hand but emptiness in his heart is still in poverty.

    True Christian mercy must hold both together: bread for the body and Bread for the soul. Shelter and forgiveness. Clothing and truth. A warm meal and the promise of eternal life.

    This is the challenge for Christians today. Society has woven corporal works of mercy into its fabric through welfare, charities, and aid programs. But who will take responsibility for the spiritual works of mercy? Who will teach the ignorant, counsel the doubtful, forgive the offender, pray for the living and the dead?

    We cannot outsource those. They belong to us — to the Church, to every disciple of Christ.

    If we want to be true to the Gospel, then our charity cannot stop at the body. It must reach the soul, where Christ Himself longs to dwell.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Beyond Bread Alone:

    The Forgotten Works of Mercy

    In the first blog, we saw how the corporal works of mercy have become part of the very fabric of Western society. Food banks, hospitals, charities, and even government programs echo Christ’s command to feed, clothe, and shelter those in need. That is a powerful legacy of Christianity.

    But mercy is not only about the body. It is also about the soul.

    The Church has always taught about the spiritual works of mercy:

    • Instruct the ignorant
    • Counsel the doubtful
    • Admonish the sinner
    • Bear wrongs patiently
    • Forgive offenses willingly
    • Comfort the afflicted
    • Pray for the living and the dead

    Unlike their corporal counterparts, these spiritual works are not easily institutionalized. A government cannot legislate forgiveness. A nonprofit cannot substitute for patient endurance. No program can replace prayer.

    And yet, it may be precisely these works that our world needs most today.

    In many places, hunger for truth is deeper than hunger for bread. Loneliness wounds more people than sickness. A culture of anger and resentment cries out for forgiveness and patience. In a world full of noise, people are starving for real counsel, comfort, and prayer.

    The danger is that Christians become content with mercy limited to the material. We may feed bodies but leave souls untouched. We may shelter people but never welcome them into communion with Christ. True mercy must be both corporal and spiritual — not either/or but both/and.

    Jesus Himself reminds us: “Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Mt 4:4). To give bread without the Word is to give half a meal.

    So here is the challenge: if society is already carrying forward the physical dimension of mercy (often thanks to its Christian roots), then perhaps the unique responsibility of Christians today is to restore the spiritual works of mercy to their rightful place.

    This is not about abandoning corporal works — far from it. It is about remembering that real love, Christian love, reaches deeper than the body. It touches the heart, the soul, the eternal destiny of the person in front of us.

    In the next blog, we will look at practical ways to integrate both: how Christians can care for bodies and souls, ensuring that mercy is whole and holy.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Have We Outsourced the Works of Mercy?

    In the Gospels, Jesus gave His followers the command to live out the corporal works of mercy: feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the sick and the prisoner, and bury the dead. These simple, concrete acts of love are how Christians have always revealed Christ to the world.

    Over centuries, these works became so deeply woven into Western society that many people today hardly notice their Christian origin. Hospitals, food pantries, shelters, charities, and even government welfare programs all reflect the lasting influence of the Gospel. In many ways, the corporal works of mercy are part of the very fabric of our culture.

    That is good news. But it also raises an important question: have we outsourced mercy to institutions?

    Think about it. In modern society, there is almost always a program, charity, or government office ready to provide physical care. This is not bad — in fact, it is evidence of Christianity’s leavening effect on culture. Yet when mercy is reduced to only social services, something essential is lost.

    Christians are not called simply to hand off good works to others. We are called to bring Christ Himself into every act of mercy. Feeding the hungry is not complete without offering the Bread of Life. Giving shelter is not full without welcoming someone into genuine human community. Visiting the sick is not just about treatment but about hope and prayer.

    If we only address the body while leaving the soul untouched, mercy becomes incomplete. As one observer put it, some Catholic charities risk “feeding bellies while starving souls.”

    So, while society may continue the corporal works in their material form, Christians are still uniquely responsible for the deeper task: to ensure that mercy reaches both body and soul.

    This series will explore that balance — beginning with the works of mercy everyone knows, and moving toward the often-forgotten spiritual works of mercy. Together, they reveal a vision of Christian love that cannot be replaced by any program or policy.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Microspheres: Small Connections, Big Renewal

    My hope for the Church is bold: that by 2030, our dioceses might be four times stronger than today — with one priest for every 100 men, and with lay people fully alive in their faith.

    The problem is not the Magisterium, the hierarchy, or the teaching of the Church. Those remain sound. The gap lies between clergy and laity. Parishes today may have thousands of members, but without networks of meaningful relationships, they risk functioning more like crowds than like communities.

    Most Catholics, if we are honest, seem to live their faith as “an hour on Sunday” — separate for a short time from the world, then blending back in. If you judge a tree by its fruit, the reality is sobering: many Catholics do not realize the treasure God has entrusted to them. They are standing on a gold mine but act as though it were yellow plastic.

    Meanwhile, modern life pulls people further away from real human connection. Even in their own homes, people often interact more with screens than with one another.

    The Power of Microspheres

    A “microsphere” is not just a small group. It is the measure of time we personally invest in others.

    I believe a parish’s vitality depends on each member having microsphere relationships — about 30 minutes per week per person.

    For example, in a group of 5 people, if you spend about 2 hours together, that works out to 30 minutes of meaningful connection with each person. That’s enough to create familiarity, trust, and support.

    How many such relationships are needed? That’s not yet clear. Perhaps 5, maybe 10, perhaps even 20. The exact number isn’t as important as the principle: when people share life in this way, the parish begins to shift from being a crowd into being a true community.

    Learning from History

    When Europe was overrun by invasions a thousand years ago, it was not large institutions that preserved civilization and faith — it was small communities, brotherhoods, and monasteries. They created pockets of strength, culture, and prayer that carried the Church through chaos.

    Today, we face new invasions: secularism, relativism, distraction, and disconnection. To survive and renew, the Church needs microspheres again.

    This is not a task the institutional Church can accomplish from the top down. It must arise from the bottom up — from Catholics who commit to building real, human, Christ-centered connections.

    If we can do this, the Church will not only endure but flourish.

    Edited with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Walking with Every Man:

    Toward a Synod on Subsidiarity

    In his first encyclical, Redemptor Hominis, Pope John Paul II made the striking claim that “every man is the way of the Church.” Christ entrusted the Church with the salvation of every person, which means the Church’s mission is always to walk with each man and woman and lead them toward Christ.

    Later, in Gratissimus Sane, John Paul II extended this truth to the family: every family, too, is the way of the Church. The family is the first place where a person’s character and uniqueness are formed, and it becomes the path along which the Church walks with individuals.

    But in the last fifty years, families have been shaken. Divorce has left many children without fathers. Mobility and smaller households have weakened extended family ties. Vocations to the priesthood and religious life within families — once a source of everyday moral and spiritual guidance — have greatly diminished. Today, with one priest often serving 4,000 parishioners, how can the Church realistically hope to walk with every individual, let alone every family?

    Learning from the Military’s Hierarchy

    Years ago, I compared the Catholic Church’s pastoral structure with the military. The military has developed, through centuries of experience, an efficient hierarchy that provides support at every level: no soldier is left without a small team, and every team has a leader to turn to.

    Here’s a simplified comparison:

    MilitaryNumber of PeopleChurch Parallel
    Region / Theater1,000,000+Diocese
    Army Group250,000Deanery Group
    Army60,000–100,000Deanery
    Corps30,000–80,000Sub-deanery
    Division10,000–20,000Parish Group
    Brigade2,000–5,000Parish
    Battalion300–1,000Priest Group
    Company70–250Deacon Group
    Troop25–60Small Community
    Patrol8–12Faith-sharing Group
    Fire Team4Prayer Partners
    Soldier1Parishioner

    The point is not to militarize the Church, but to recognize that the Church could learn from this structure of care. Subsidiarity — the principle that decisions and responsibilities should be handled at the lowest possible level — calls us to build up the Church at the smallest, most personal groups.

    A Call for a Synod on Subsidiarity

    The Church has already held Synods on Youth and on the Family. Perhaps the time has come for a Synod on Subsidiarity — especially on the sub-parish level. Such a synod could explore how the Church can better accompany individuals, families, and small communities, ensuring that no Catholic is left without support.

    Religious orders could play a vital role in this renewal. Catechesis, new models of pastoral care, and creative small-group structures could allow the Church to “walk with every man” as Christ intended.

    Today, there are about 1.16 billion Catholics in a world of 7 billion people — roughly one Catholic for every five people on earth. That ratio is strikingly close to Christ and the twelve apostles. If the Church could rediscover the art of subsidiarity, empowering Catholics at every level to care for one another, then we could truly begin to live out John Paul II’s vision: the Church walking with every man, in love.

    Edited with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Why Small Groups Are Essential for Parish Life

    As parish leaders, we often think about programs, Mass attendance, and committees. But the real work of forming disciples doesn’t happen in crowds — it happens in small, intentional circles where people know one another and hold each other accountable.

    Human beings are wired for connection, but only up to a point. Research shows that most of us can maintain about 150 meaningful relationships — and even that requires focused attention. Relationships need time, shared experience, and trust.

    This is why microsphere relationships — those weekly, intentional, small-group connections — are so important in parish life:

    • They cultivate trust and accountability. People grow in faith when they can share struggles and victories with others who care.
    • They encourage retention and engagement. Parishioners who belong to small groups are less likely to drift away and more likely to participate actively.
    • They support spiritual formation. Programs and Masses teach, but it’s in close relationships that people practice faith, pray together, and live it out.

    Contrast this with the “macro” level — large committees, social events, or general gatherings. These are important for information and community awareness, but they rarely produce the depth of connection needed for discipleship.

    As leaders, our task is not just to manage the parish but to create spaces where spiritual growth is natural and relational. Microsphere groups — small sharing, prayer, or accountability circles — are the most effective way to do this. They are the places where faith is tested, strengthened, and lived out.

    Practical Steps for Leaders:

    1. Identify parishioners who could benefit from small groups.
    2. Provide guidance, not micromanagement, so groups form naturally around shared interests or life stages.
    3. Encourage leaders within these groups, offering support and training for facilitation.
    4. Celebrate and highlight the successes of these groups to show the parish the value of deep connection.

    Reflection for Leaders:
     If our parish is to thrive, how can we move beyond surface-level engagement and ensure that every parishioner has a meaningful, accountable, and nurturing connection?

    Written with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Microsphere Relationships:

    Where Real Belonging Begins

    A number of years ago, I came across an article called the “monkey sphere,” which was built on Robin Dunbar’s research into human social networks. Dunbar suggested that the size of our neocortex places a natural limit on how many people we can truly know and relate to. For humans, he estimated the number is around 150 people — what’s often called Dunbar’s Number.

    But there’s a catch: to sustain that many relationships, you’d need to dedicate around 40% of your weekly time (about 67 hours) to them. That works out to roughly 30 minutes per person, per week.

    This struck me:

    • The people in our microsphere — the ones we average 30 minutes a week with — are those we trust, learn from, and share life with. These are mentoring, collegial, or teamwork relationships where we actually need to learn how to get along.
    • The macrosphere is made up of the many others we know, but more distantly — acquaintances, useful contacts, neighbors.
    • At the center are our nucleus relationships — the people who need at least 30 minutes of our time daily. These include family, closest friends, and of course, God.
    • Being famous is when more people know you than you know them.
    • Being a fan is knowing someone who doesn’t know or care about you. 
    • Being a teacher / instructor / influencer implies the information is flowing out with little or no feedback. 

    It makes me wonder:

    • How many microsphere relationships do we actually sustain today — with family, extended family, coworkers, fellow parishioners, or in hobbies?
    • How many are necessary to feel truly at home in a parish — 5, 10, 20?

    We live in a world where loneliness is widespread, and many people are drowning in macrosphere connections (social media followers, casual contacts) but starving for microsphere ones. We let busyness and distraction push aside the very relationships that would make us feel grounded, known, and supported.

    👉 Reflection Question for Readers:
    What is one microsphere relationship in your life right now that needs more of your attention?

    Edited with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Discovering Your Heroic Vocation

    Recognizing the call that sets your life on a meaningful adventure

    Introduction: The Call to Adventure

    Every life has a calling. Not every vocation leads to priesthood or consecrated life. C.S. Lewis reminds us that there are infinitely many good vocations, each as different from one another as good is from evil. Some callings are familiar: raising a family, serving the poor, leading a community, or creating art that inspires. Others are unique, waiting quietly for a person to step forward.

    In the language of the Hero’s Journey, the first step of any adventure is the call. It may come as restlessness, a sense of purpose, or an invitation to serve. Recognizing this call is the beginning of a life fully aligned with God and with your gifts.

    The Heroic Vocational Questions

    To help discern your calling, consider these reflective questions. They are not a checklist, but a framework for discovery:

    1. Where do I feel most alive when serving or creating?
    2. What challenges stir courage in me rather than fear?
    3. Which relationships or mentors draw out the best in me?
    4. What activity makes me lose track of time while benefiting others?
    5. What do I keep returning to, even when it’s difficult or uncomfortable?
    6. How would I want my life to be remembered if I gave it fully to this path?
    7. What sacrifice would I be willing to make for the good that matters most to me?
    8. How does this calling connect with the greater good, the community, or God’s plan?

    These questions guide a person toward self-knowledge, courage, and clarity—the essential tools for responding to any vocation.

    Reflection and Discernment

    Answering these questions requires honest reflection, prayer, and openness to God’s guidance. It may take weeks or months to see patterns or clarity emerge. Journaling, talking with a trusted mentor, or spending time in prayerful solitude can help you hear the call more clearly.

    Remember: vocation is a process, not a single answer. Your understanding of your calling may grow or shift over time. The key is to remain attentive to the stirrings in your heart and to align your life with God’s will.

    Practical Next Steps

    Once you have a sense of your calling, take practical steps to test and nurture it:

    • Volunteer or intern in areas related to your perceived vocation.
    • Seek out mentors or communities that live out what you feel drawn to.
    • Learn actively: read, train, or practice skills that support your calling.
    • Experiment with small projects or commitments to see how they resonate.

    These steps allow your calling to reveal itself in action, confirming whether it truly aligns with your gifts and God’s plan.

    Conclusion

    Every vocation is heroic in its own way. Whether it is priesthood, marriage, art, leadership, or service, answering your call is stepping into a life of purpose, courage, and joy.

    Start by paying attention to the stirrings in your heart. Ask the reflective questions, test your path, and trust God’s guidance. Your heroic journey begins with the first step: saying yes to the call.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5