Seized by Christ

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

Tag: jesus

  • ⚖️ Weighed and Found Wanting: The Fatal Mistake of Hubris

    ⚖️ Weighed and Found Wanting: The Fatal Mistake of Hubris

    Why Your Greatest Gifts Can Become Your Greatest Danger

    The story of King Belshazzar is the story of every person who has ever looked at their talents, their success, or their good fortune and thought, “This is mine. I earned it. I control it.”

    It’s the story of Hubris—that fatal, self-centered mistake that comes before the fall. Our readings today (Daniel 5 and Luke 21) show us the anatomy of this spiritual disease and reveal the only cure: active, enduring faithfulness.

    1. The Party and the Problem: The Banality of Blasphemy

    King Belshazzar, in our first reading, throws a magnificent, drunken banquet. His act of blasphemy is not a simple mistake; it’s a defiant spectacle. He demands the holy gold and silver vessels looted from the Temple in Jerusalem be brought out and used for a pagan party.

    This is the spiritual state of radical entitlement. Belshazzar treats the holy (gifts from God) as merely a trophy for his own ego.

    The Psychology of Entitlement

    This is what happens when the Adversary’s whisper takes root: it convinces us that our talents, our wealth, and our relationships are entirely our own doing, meant solely for self-gratification.

    But at the height of his pride, the visible world breaks down: “Suddenly the fingers of a human hand appeared, and began to write on the plaster of the palace wall.”

    The writing is the ultimate accounting of a life lived without reference to the sacred:

    • Mene: Your power has been measured and ended.
    • Tekel: You have been weighed in the balance and found wanting.
    • Parsin: Your kingdom has been divided and lost.

    Belshazzar failed because he refused to glorify the God who held his breath and all his fortunes in his hands. His life, measured against the standard of the sacred, collapsed.

    2. The Hero’s Forge: The Necessity of Endurance

    If Belshazzar’s downfall is the consequence of Hubris and Pride, the Gospel (Luke 21) provides the antidote: Endurance and Trust.

    Jesus tells His disciples not of palaces, but of persecution, betrayal, and even death. This is the moment in the Hero’s Journey where the hero is stripped bare, entering the chaotic belly of the whale where all external support is lost.

    In the face of this absolute chaos, Jesus gives two counter-intuitive commands:

    1. Don’t Prepare Your Defence: Jesus commands us to relinquish the primal urge to control the narrative. Our brain, our ego, wants to be prepared, to argue, to win the court case. But He says, “I myself shall give you an eloquence and a wisdom…” We are called to suppress our own iron strength and rely on the Holy Spirit’s divine wisdom.
    2. Endure: The ultimate secret to salvation is revealed: “Your endurance will win you your lives.” Endurance is not passive survival. It is the active, faithful confrontation with suffering—a sustained posture of obedience that forges character and secures the soul.

    3. The Call to Live with Consecration

    We are called to move past the judgment of the decadent palace and into the endurance of the faithful disciple.

    A. Examine Your Holy Vessels

    Where are you taking the consecrated gifts God gave you—your time, your talents, your intelligence, your relationships—and treating them as merely trophies for your own consumption?

    • Do you use your intelligence to build yourself up, rather than to serve the Truth?
    • Do you treat your days off simply as hours for personal indulgence, rather than a chance to glorify God and love others?

    All we have is a consecrated vessel, a gift from God. The shift begins when we recognize this truth and use our gifts for their intended, holy purpose.

    B. Stay Awake in the Chaos

    The Gospel Acclamation instructs us: “Stay awake, praying at all times for the strength to stand with confidence before the Son of Man.”

    The courage to endure is won in the small battles:

    • In the willingness to suffer a slight and not seek immediate revenge.
    • In the resolve to remain faithful to your commitments when they become boring.
    • In the continuous choice to seek God’s wisdom instead of relying on your own prepared script.

    Do not be afraid of the chaos. It is merely the process by which God measures our foundations. Let us stand with confidence, relying not on our own power, but on the wisdom and eloquence of Christ, so that when our lives are weighed, we may be found faithful.

    Discussion Prompt:

    What is one “holy vessel” (a gift, talent, or resource) in your life that you have been treating like a “trophy” for your own pride or indulgence? What is one concrete action you can take this week to reconsecrate it to God’s purpose?

    Share your commitment below.

    Developed with assistance from Gemini AI, ChatGPT-5 and GROK 4.1

  • The Stone That Became a Mountain

    The Stone That Became a Mountain

    A Reflection for Tuesday, November 25, 2025 Based on Daniel 2:31-45; Daniel 3:57-61; and Luke 21:5-11

    (Originally delivered as a 12-minute talk – now expanded for anyone who wants to sit with it longer)

    I’ve never met King Nebuchadnezzar, but some nights I wake up in a cold sweat feeling exactly like him.

    You know the dream: a dazzling statue rises in front of you—head of gold, chest of silver, belly of bronze, legs of iron, and feet made of iron mixed with crumbling clay. It is magnificent, terrifying, and (you are secretly proud) it looks a lot like the empire you’ve spent your whole life building. Then, out of nowhere, a stone “untouched by human hand” rockets across the void, smashes the feet, and the entire thing explodes into powder. The wind scatters the dust, and the stone keeps growing until it becomes a mountain that fills the whole earth.

    Daniel, barely more than a teenager and a foreign prisoner, looks the most powerful man on the planet in the eye and says: “That stone is God’s Kingdom. Everything you trust will be ground to chaff. Only the Kingdom will last forever.”

    Two and a half millennia later, that dream still haunts us because it is no longer just about Babylon. It is about the statues we keep erecting inside our own skulls.

    Your Brain Is the Statue

    Neuroscience has accidentally given us one of the best commentaries on Daniel 2 ever written.

    • The golden head = the prefrontal cortex: language, long-term planning, morality, the part of you that wants to build something glorious and eternal.
    • The silver arms and chest = the limbic system: love, belonging, tribal identity, emotion.
    • The bronze belly = the older reward circuits: pleasure, ambition, appetite, status.
    • The iron legs = the brainstem and motor strips: raw survival, dominance, fight-or-flight.
    • The feet of iron and clay = the fragile, perpetually uneasy handshake between our ancient reptile brain and our fragile modern consciousness. Strong enough to run a civilization, brittle enough to shatter the first time life hits it wrong.

    Every war, every addiction, every mid-life crisis, every doom-scrolling spiral begins when the lower floors start dictating terms to the upper ones.

    The Universal Story

    Joseph Campbell spent his life showing that every culture tells the same story:

    Ordinary world → Call to adventure → Refusal → Mentor appears → Crossing the threshold → Ordeal and death → Seizing the treasure → Return to give it away.

    Translate the characters:

    Daniel is the mentor who will not bow.

    Jesus is the Stone cut without hands—the true Hero who descends into the realm of death and rises again.

    And you and I? We are the ones being summoned out of the collapsing statue into the growing mountain.

    When the Temple Comes Down

    In today’s Gospel people are gawking at the Jerusalem Temple—literally the most impressive religious building the ancient world had ever seen. Jesus looks at them and says, in effect, “Enjoy the view while it lasts. Not one stone will be left on another.”

    He is not being cruel. He is being honest. Every human temple, every human empire, every human self built only with human hands will one day stand on feet of clay.

    But notice what he says next: “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified… Nation will rise against nation… There will be great earthquakes…” These are not the end. They are the birth pangs.

    In mythology, the false world has to shatter before the real story can begin.

    In psychology, the ego has to crack open before genuine integration can happen.

    In salvation history, the Stone has to strike.

    The Catholic Reading in One Sentence

    The Stone is Christ.

    The Mountain is the Church, born from the rock struck on Calvary and from the side of Christ on the Cross.

    And the dream is being fulfilled right now, every time a human soul lets the Kingdom smash its idols and fill its emptiness.

    So What Do We Actually Do?

    Four concrete, life-changing steps you can start this week:

    1. Name Your Statue
      Tonight, before you go to bed, ask: What is the gold-headed thing I trust more than God? Career? Reputation? Political ideology? My phone? My body? My children’s success? Write it down. That’s your personal Nebuchadnezzar dream.
    2. Let the Stone Strike
      Take that piece of paper (or just the knowledge of it) to confession, to adoration, to the foot of the crucifix. Ask Jesus to touch the feet of clay. It will probably feel like everything is falling apart. Good. That’s the sound of the Kingdom arriving.
    3. One Line, Ten Minutes, Every Morning
      Before you open any app, sit in silence and let one phrase from today’s readings strike you and grow:
      “A stone untouched by human hand…”
      Repeat it slowly, like a breath prayer. Let it smash the noisy empires in your mind. Ten minutes. That’s all. But do it daily and watch what kind of mountain starts growing inside you.
    4. Live the Return
      The hero never keeps the elixir for himself. Bring the peace you find in that silence to your family, your cubicle, your parish council, the grocery checkout line. The world is starving for people who have let the Stone win.

    The Dream Is Still True

    We are living in the age of the feet of clay.

    Globally: superpowers and tech empires that look invincible but are already cracking.

    Personally: hearts that are part iron, part mud, strong enough to function, brittle enough to break.

    But the Gospel acclamation today is shouting at us across two thousand years:

    “Stand erect, hold your heads high, because your liberation is near at hand!”

    The statue is already trembling.

    The Stone has already left the mountain.

    The only question left is whether we will cling to the collapsing colossus or open our hands and let the Kingdom break us open—so that, through us, it can fill the whole earth.

    Come, Lord Jesus.

    Strike the feet.

    Grow the mountain.

    Make Your home in us.

    And then send us back out to a world that desperately needs living stones.

    Amen.

    Feel free to share this post, print it, read it aloud to your family, or just sit with it in the quiet. The dream is still coming true—and you’re in it.

  • From Donuts to Discipleship: Where My Men’s Group Fits In

    Every Friday at 5:30 in the morning, I gather with several dozen men for That Man is You. It’s not glamorous—we stumble in half-awake, grab coffee and a donut, swap a few jokes, and slowly warm up.

    By 6:00 AM, we’re watching a video on faith, culture, or manhood. Afterward, we break into smaller groups to talk about it—sometimes about the content, sometimes about what’s weighing on our lives. A deacon moderates, keeping us centered on prayer and truth. By 7:00 AM, we’re out the door and off to work.

    On paper, that’s one hour a week. But in reality, it’s much more: it’s an anchor of brotherhood in my week.

    Where It Fits in the “Layered Parish” Model

    I’ve been working on a way to think about relationships in parish life, something I call the Layered Model of Community:

    • Core Sphere (2–5 people): Deep friendship, accountability, prayer partners.
    • Support Sphere (10–15 people): Steady brotherhood and shared life.
    • Community Sphere (50+ people): Wider fellowship—banquets, service projects, parish socials.
    • Mission Sphere (150–500+): The parish or diocese gathered in worship and witness.

    So where does That Man is You land?

    👉 Support Sphere.
    It’s a classic example: small groups of 10–12 men, weekly rhythm, spiritual content, moderated discussion. More than banter, but not intimate enough for every man to share his deepest struggles.

    How It Could Go Deeper

    What makes the Support Sphere strong is that it feeds men consistently. But transformation happens when the Core Sphere grows inside it.

    That could look like:

    • Two or three guys from the group grabbing coffee mid-week.
    • Starting a prayer partnership with one or two men.
    • Checking in outside the meeting—life, struggles, victories.

    In other words: using the Support Sphere as fertile ground for the Core Sphere to take root.

    The Bigger Picture

    That Man is You also stretches upward:

    • As a program, it’s a Community Sphere, connecting dozens of men at the parish level.
    • And it plugs into the Mission Sphere, part of a nationwide movement helping men step up in faith.

    But it’s in those smaller connections—finding your two or three brothers—that the deepest growth happens.

    Because as good as coffee, donuts, and teaching videos are, every man ultimately needs a band of brothers who know him by name and walk with him through life.

    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

  • 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

  • From christian to Christian: The Heart of Vocations

    Vocations start with knowing Christ — the decisive question every Catholic must face

    Introduction

    In our previous blogs, we examined priestly vocations first through statistics, then through seven questions from Catholic to consecrated vocation. But even those questions assume something deeper: a man must already know Christ to respond faithfully. Without that encounter, the questions remain unanswered, the call unnoticed.

    This is where Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI) offers a decisive lens for understanding vocations and Christian life itself. He asks:

    Have you experienced an event or person which gives life a new horizon, and a decisive direction? Do you experience it as joy and hope? Are you inwardly seized by Christianity, and have you become a lover of Christ?

    This is the question behind all vocations. Many Catholic men do not pursue the priesthood, not because of celibacy or rules, but because they have never fully experienced Christ in this way.

    The Core Reality

    A vocation is not primarily about a career path, a calling to serve a group, or a set of obligations. It is about responding to a personal encounter with Christ.

    • If a man has not experienced this decisive horizon in his life, celibacy will always seem like an obstacle.
    • If a man does not trust God with his life, obedience to a religious community will feel impossible.
    • If a man does not recognize the presence of Christ in others, service will seem burdensome.

    In other words, the foundation of all vocations is being seized by Christ Himself. All the statistical analyses, discernment questions, and organizational structures build on this first encounter. Without it, the rest is form without life.

    Creating Environments for Encounter

    This insight also shows what the Church can do to support vocations: create spaces and experiences where people can meet Christ personally. This is not just about instruction, programs, or prayer for vocations — it is about real-life encounters, mentorship, and communities where faith comes alive.

    As I have often reflected: when I pray for more workers in the harvest, God often shows me what I can do to move things forward. We cannot simply hope for miracles; we can build environments that foster encounter, trust, and spiritual growth.

    Conclusion

    The question for vocations — and for Christian living — is not primarily about celibacy, obedience, or even statistics. It is about Christ taking hold of a person’s life.

    Without that encounter, no numbers, programs, or rules will generate vocations. With it, even one man saying “yes” can change countless lives.

    Vocations begin at the heart, and the heart begins with Christ.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Seven Questions from Catholic to Consecrated Vocation

    From possibility to discernment — a practical guide for those considering priesthood or consecrated life

    Introduction: From Coin Toss to Questions

    In our last reflection, we looked at priestly vocations through the lens of statistics. With one diocesan priest for every 3,000 Catholic men, vocations today can seem almost miraculous — like flipping twelve coins and getting heads every time.

    But what if we replaced those twelve coins with seven questions? Questions that, if answered honestly and faithfully, could help a man discern whether he is called to a consecrated vocation. This approach moves from mere probability to spiritual discernment, from abstract numbers to personal reflection.

    The Seven Questions from Catholic to Consecrated Vocation

    1. Grace

    • Are you being honest with yourself?
    • Are you committed to putting God’s will first?
    • Do you trust God’s providence for your future?
    • Are you aware that those who give all for Christ will bear much fruit and be rewarded with joy and peace?

    2. Vocation Fit

    • Is there an organization or charism that complements your perceived vocation or interests?
    • Could you see yourself participating fully and happily in that community?

    3. Trust

    • Are you comfortable that the group is faithful to Church teaching, transparent, and well-governed?
    • Can you entrust your future obedience to this group with confidence?

    4. Celibacy

    • Are you willing to accept celibacy as a sign of trust and commitment to God?
    • Do you recognize the benefits of consecrated celibacy over marriage within this vocation?
    • Could your vocation be fulfilled outside a celibate life?
    • Would marriage prevent you from living this vocation fully?
    • Do you believe that, by God’s grace, a person can sacrifice personal benefit for God’s plan?

    5. Service

    • Do you understand the importance of the presence of consecrated religious for the well-being of families, the Church, and the salvation of souls?
    • Is the vocational need significant enough to justify the sacrifices required?
    • Are you aware that Christ is present in each person you will serve?

    6. Compatibility

    • Will consecration to this group allow you to achieve your broader vocation?
    • Will the group allow flexibility as your vocation evolves with your faith?

    7. Timing

    • Do you believe God is calling you now, or might the call come at a later time?

    Reflection

    Most of the stumbling blocks I’ve observed are not about rules or regulations, but trust in God. Many men hesitate to surrender personal freedom — especially sexuality — because they do not truly know God or experience His providence in their lives.

    In reality, this is the same reason many do not fully live as Christians in the first place. Cardinal Ratzinger phrased it poignantly:

    Have you experienced an event or person which gives life a new horizon, and a decisive direction? Do you experience it as joy and hope? Are you inwardly seized by Christianity, and have you become a lover of Christ?

    Vocations grow from a foundation of encounter with Christ. Without that, no set of questions, rules, or statistics can bear fruit.

    Conclusion

    By replacing the coin tosses with these seven questions, we can move from seeing vocations as statistical miracles to seeing them as discernible possibilities. But the first and most important step is always the same: knowing Christ and trusting Him with your life.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • 8 Questions on the Road to Christ

    From seeking the truth to being seized by Christ

    On my journey of reflection, I came across a simple yet profound set of questions often used to guide a person from unbelief to faith. These eight steps move from basic honesty with oneself to the heart of Christianity:

    1. Are you being honest with yourself?
    2. Do you seek the truth?
    3. Is there some kind of God? (atheism vs. theism) — 5/6 of the world believes in some kind of god.
    4. Is it one God or many? (monotheism vs. polytheism) — about half of the world believes in one God.
    5. Is all God, or is He present but separate? (pantheism vs. Creator).
    6. Is God morally good, or is He indifferent to good and evil?
    7. Did God simply wind up the world, or is He present in history?
    8. Is God one person or three? Is Jesus His Son? One-third of the world is Christian.

    Each of these questions acts as a step on the “road to Christ.” They push us to examine what we believe, and why. Yet, even after answering all eight in favor of Christianity, there is still a deeper question that cannot be ignored.

    Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (later Pope Benedict XVI) expressed it this way:

    Have you experienced an event or person which gives life a new horizon, and a decisive direction? Do you experience it as joy and hope? Are you inwardly seized by Christianity, and have you become a lover of Christ?

    That final question makes all the difference. It cuts to the heart: how many who call themselves “christian” (with a small c) have truly become Christian (with a capital C) in this deeper sense?

    The journey is not only about intellectual assent but about encounter, transformation, and love. Without that, the “road to Christ” remains unfinished.