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Drawing from The Bible in a Year, Fr. Mike offers powerful insights on what it looks like to struggle faithfully with God and grow in relationship with Him. He closes with a heartfelt Q&A, sharing personal reflections to inspire your own journey of trust and surrender.34:40 I’m a Protestant, but I feel like a Catholic after spending so much time with your videos and podcasts. How important is it to convert? 

39:08 If we can’t take a 30-day silent retreat, what can someone do to “really get to know God”? 

44:35 I’m tired of sinning the same sin. Tips? 

51:50 Fr. Mike: Collar or sweats, when you were recording the podcasts?

Few are familiar with J.R.R. Tolkien’s greatest love and what gave him profound strength during his darkest hours.

Catholic author J.R.R. Tolkien is well-known for his mythological realm of Middle Earth and highly influential Lord of the Rings series of books. In fact, one survey in 1997 voted Lord of the Rings the “book of the century.”

To find that, we must open up a letter he wrote to his son Michael. At the time Michael was 21 years old and having relationship problems. Tolkien wrote to him to share his advice about women, but also related to his son the greatest love he could ever possess.

Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament … There you will find romance, glory, honour, fidelity, and the true way of all your loves upon earth.

Cure for sagging faith

Many years later, when Michael was 43, Tolkien received a letter from his depressed son looking for consolation. It appears Michael wrote to his father about his “sagging faith” and began to doubt if God or the Catholic Church was true. This was Tolkien’s response.

The only cure for sagging of fainting faith is Communion. Though always Itself, perfect and complete and inviolate, the Blessed Sacrament does not operate completely and once for all in any of us. Like the act of Faith it must be continuous and grow by exercise. Frequency is of the highest effect. Seven times a week is more nourishing than seven times at intervals.

Tolkien was known to attend daily Mass at a nearby church and his eldest son, John, became a priest and was with his father at his death bed, likely giving him holy viaticum, the Holy Eucharist, as he passed from this life to the next.

Not surprisingly, within Tolkien’s Middle Earth there was a special type of bread called lembas, which sustained Frodo and Sam as they reached the place where their journey ended.

The lembas had a virtue without which they would long ago have lain down to die. It did     not satisfy desire, and at times Sam’s mind was filled with the memories of food, and the     longing for simple bread and meats. And yet, this way bread of the Elves had potency that increased as travelers relied upon it alone and did not mingle it with other foods. It fed the will, and it gave strength to endure, and to master sinew and limb beyond the measure of mortal kind.

The life we live is Jesus, the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The more we look to the Mother of that life, the more we come to know and embrace life in its fullness.

Tomorrow, on the solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God, we will pray to God the Father: We rejoice to proclaim the Blessed ever-Virgin Mary Mother of your Son and Mother of the Church. Why do we start every New Year focused on the Motherhood of Mary?

We need the Blessed Virgin Mary to be our Mother, and for at least three key reasons.

1. The Mother of God’s love awakens us and enables us to be ourselves

The theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar reflected on a simple fact of life: “The little child awakens to self-consciousness through being addressed by the love of their mother.” In her book The Drama of the Gifted Child, the psychiatrist Alice Miller explains how

Every child has a legitimate need to be noticed, understood, taken seriously, and respected by their mother. In the first weeks and months of life they need to have the mother at their disposal, must be able to be mirrored by her …. The mother gazes at the baby in her arms, and baby gazes at their mother’s face and finds themself therein, provided that the mother is really looking at the unique, small, helpless being and not projecting her own expectations, fears, and plans for the child. In that case, the child would not find themself in his mother’s face but rather the mother’s own predicaments. This child would remain without a mirror, and for the rest of their life would be seeking this mirror in vain. 

And sadly, this is the plight of many people. But it is not the end of the story. For we have been given an Immaculate Mother who provides for our every need—Mary is the Mirror we seek.

Pope St. John Paul II expressed something similar:

A mother is not only the mother of the physical creature born of her womb but of the person she begets. Mary is Mother of God because she accompanied the Son of God in his human growth. Mary’s Motherhood is not merely a bond of affection—she contributes effectively to our spiritual birth and to the development of the life of grace within us.

Pope Leo XIV, at Christmas Mass during the Night, said Christ’s birth brings light into the world’s darkness — and where the human person is welcomed, God is welcomed too.

“To enlighten our blindness, the Lord chose to reveal himself as a man to man, his true image, according to a plan of love that began with the creation of the world,” the Pope said in his homily in St. Peter’s Basilica Dec. 24.

“As long as the night of error obscures this providential truth, then ‘there is no room for others either, for children, for the poor, for the stranger,’” he added, quoting Pope Benedict XIV’s homily at Christmas Mass on Dec. 24, 2012.

“These words of Pope Benedict XVI remain a timely reminder that on earth, there is no room for God if there is no room for the human person,” the Pontiff said.

Leo celebrated the Christmas Mass, also known as Midnight Mass, for a packed Vatican basilica at 10 p.m. The Vatican said an estimated 6,000 people were inside the basilica for the Mass, while another 5,000 people followed the papal Mass via jumbo screens in St. Peter’s Square.

In a surprise before the Mass, the Pope stepped outside St. Peter’s Basilica to greet those who were forced to stay in the rainy square, because there was no more room inside.

“The basilica of St. Peter’s is very large, but unfortunately it is not large enough to receive all of you,” Leo said, thanking everyone for their presence, wishing them a merry Christmas, and bestowing his apostolic blessing.

Just now: Pope Leo surprised and blessed the crowd that could not get into St. Peter’s Basilica for tonight’s Christmas Eve Mass. “The basilica of St. Peter is very large, but unfortunately, it is not large enough to receive all of you. Tante grazie per venire qui questa sera.” pic.twitter.com/vMK1Zmibl8

— EWTN Vatican (@EWTNVatican) December 24, 2025

The preparatory readings and the sung Proclamation of the Birth of Christ — also called the Kalenda Proclamation — preceded the Mass. The Pontiff removed a cloth to reveal a wooden sculpture of the Christ Child, placed in front of the main altar of the basilica, after the chanting of the Kalenda Proclamation. A group of 10 children dressed in traditional clothing from different parts of the world brought flowers to the figure of Baby Jesus.

In his homily, the Pope recalled that, “for millennia, across the earth, peoples have gazed up at the sky” attempting to read the future in the stars. 

Yet, they remained lost and in the dark, he said. “On this night, however, ‘the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light’ (Isaiah 9:2).”

In his first Christmas “Urbi et Orbi” message as pope, Leo XIV urged the world to embrace “responsibility” as the sure way to peace, while pointing in particular to the suffering of people in Gaza, Yemen, and those fleeing war and poverty as refugees and migrants.

Before an estimated 26,000 people gathered in St. Peter’s Square on Dec. 25, the pope appeared at the central balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica to deliver the traditional Christmas blessing “to the city and to the world,” eight months after his May 8 election.

In one of the most evocative passages of the message, the pope cited at length from “Wildpeace,” a poem by Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai, contrasting “the peace of a cease-fire” with a deeper peace that arrives unexpectedly — “like wildflowers” — after exhaustion and conflict.

“Responsibility is the sure way to peace,” Leo said. “If all of us, at every level, would stop accusing others and instead acknowledge our own faults, asking God for forgiveness, and if we would truly enter into the suffering of others and stand in solidarity with the weak and the oppressed, then the world would change.”

The pope framed his appeal around the Christian proclamation that Christ “is our peace,” adding: “Without a heart freed from sin, a heart that has been forgiven, we cannot be men and women of peace or builders of peace.”

Turning to concrete “faces” of contemporary pain, Leo said that in becoming man, Jesus “took upon himself our fragility, identifying with each one of us: with those who have nothing left and have lost everything, like the inhabitants of Gaza; with those who are prey to hunger and poverty, like the Yemeni people; with those who are fleeing their homeland to seek a future elsewhere, like the many refugees and migrants who cross the Mediterranean or traverse the American continent.”

He also named those who have lost jobs, underpaid workers who are exploited, and prisoners “who often live in inhumane conditions.”

Leo offered “a warm and fatherly greeting” to Christians, “especially those living in the Middle East,” recalling his recent trip to Turkey and Lebanon. “I listened to them as they expressed their fears and know well their sense of powerlessness before the power dynamics that overwhelm them,” he said.

“From God let us ask for justice, peace and stability for Lebanon, Palestine, Israel and Syria,” the pope continued, as he invoked Scripture on righteousness and peace.

He also prayed “in a particular way for the tormented people of Ukraine,” asking that “the clamor of weapons cease,” and that the parties involved — “with the support and commitment of the international community” — find “the courage to engage in sincere, direct and respectful dialogue.”

Pope Leo XIV on Christmas Day deplored the “falsehoods” used to justify wars that leave young people “forced to take up arms” and “sent to their deaths,” while also drawing attention to the humanitarian suffering of displaced people, including families living in tents in Gaza.

In his first Christmas as Pope, Leo celebrated Christmas Day Mass in St. Peter’s Basilica, reviving a practice not seen since 1994 during the pontificate of St. John Paul II. Reflecting on the prologue of St. John’s Gospel, the Pope said in his homily that the Christmas liturgy highlights a striking contrast: God’s Word, which acts with power, comes into the world in utter weakness.

“The ‘Word’ is a word that acts,” Leo said. Yet, he added, “the Word of God appears but cannot speak. He comes to us as a newborn baby who can only cry and babble.”

Leo said the mystery Christians celebrate at Christmas cannot be separated from the vulnerability of those whose dignity is assaulted by war, displacement, and poverty. He urged Catholics to let Christ’s birth pierce complacency and move them toward tenderness and solidarity.

“‘Flesh’ is the radical nakedness that, in Bethlehem as on Calvary, remains even without words – just as so many brothers and sisters, stripped of their dignity and reduced to silence, have no words today,” he said.

In one of the homily’s most striking passages, Leo connected the Gospel image of the Word “pitching” his tent among humanity with the reality faced by families living in makeshift shelters amid conflict.

“Dear brothers and sisters, since the Word was made flesh, humanity now speaks, crying out with God’s own desire to encounter us. The Word has pitched his fragile tent among us,” he said, before asking: “How, then, can we not think of the tents in Gaza, exposed for weeks to rain, wind and cold; and of those of so many other refugees and displaced persons on every continent; or of the makeshift shelters of thousands of homeless people in our own cities?”

The Pope also described the toll of war in terms of both shattered communities and wounded consciences.

“Fragile is the flesh of defenseless populations, tried by so many wars, ongoing or concluded, leaving behind rubble and open wounds,” he said. “Fragile are the minds and lives of young people forced to take up arms, who on the front lines feel the senselessness of what is asked of them and the falsehoods that fill the pompous speeches of those who send them to their deaths.”

Leo framed Christmas as a proclamation that peace is not merely a hope for the future but a gift already present in Christ, even when few recognize it.

O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
— Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure, “O, Holy Night”

Wanting to be a parent is perhaps the greatest human desire. The desire to love another soul unconditionally — to teach, guide and nurture — is profoundly exciting. Being willing to impact the life of another in such an intimate way is overwhelmingly selfless. The yearning to share one’s own DNA, body, family traditions, home and life with a new creation is a dream many experience years prior to attempting to create new life.

Yet, for those for whom conception does not come easy, their deep desire is met with even deeper pain. The pain of infertility is felt on various levels: emotional, physical, social, spiritual and psychological. It may feel like guilt, shame, anxiety or fear in the form of, “What did I do wrong?” or “Why me/us?” Some women wonder if something is wrong with their body since they are unable to carry a child. Some even wonder if their significant other will still want to be with them if they cannot carry new life in their womb. Attempting to conceive and the emotions that come with it can be more exhausting than exciting for the woman who desperately wants to be pregnant.

Suffering in silence

During the struggles of infertility some share their desire and despair only with their significant other, which may result in feelings of isolation in society. Some women feel like the nurses at their OB/GYN office know them better than their colleagues, as they are the ones who truly know what’s going on in their lives.

Sadly, infertility and miscarriage are not uncommon, yet the medical and grief processes surrounding such losses are something we do not openly discuss in our society. I would argue that more often than not, this is out of respect for the intimacy of trying to conceive. Additionally, we simply may not know what to say to someone who lost a baby when we only learn of the pregnancy in light of the loss. Regardless of reason or motives, too many women and couples suffer in silence or solitude and feel that there is no appropriate way for them to talk about their grief outside of their significant other, physician and counselor.

Now, at this point, you may be wondering why this article is included in a December publication. And that’s a fair question.

Relics can be confusing, so here is a brief rundown of what Catholics believe.

Why do Catholics keep saint’s bones, hair, clothes or even their blood in gold shiny boxes? Didn’t God condemn idolatry? While many (both Protestants and Catholics alike) are often confused by the practice of venerating relics, the tradition has deep biblical roots.

What are relics?

Relics are material items that are connected to a saint and are sorted into three “classes.” A first-class relic is all or part of the physical remains of a saint. This could be a piece of bone, a vial of blood, a lock of hair, or even a skull or incorrupt body.

A second-class relic is any item that the saint frequently used (clothing, for example). A third-class relic is any item that touches a first or second-class relic.

Catholics are known to preserve relics of saints and it is believed that graces from God flow through these objects to devout souls who venerate them.

Where in the bible are relics?

The use of physical objects related to a holy person goes back as far as the Old Testament. In it we see an episode from the Second Book of Kings that features the use of relics.

“And so Elisha died and was buried. At that time of year, bands of Moabites used to raid the land. Once some people were burying a man, when suddenly they saw such a raiding band. So they cast the man into the grave of Elisha, and everyone went off. But when the man came in contact with the bones of Elisha, he came back to life and got to his feet.” (2 Kings 13:20-21)

Even in the New Testament we see how God uses material objects to bring about healings. In the Gospel of Mark we see how a woman is healed because she touched Jesus’ cloak.

“She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak. She said, ‘If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.’ Immediately her flow of blood dried up. She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction.” (Mark 5.27-29)

There are other examples in the lives of the apostles that clearly show how God works miracles through items connected to a saint.

Do relics have power?

While the Church encourages the practice of venerating relics, it is important to remember that it is not the actual object that imparts healing. A piece of bone can’t heal someone from terminal cancer. However, God can use a relic of a saint to heal, just like he used his cloak to heal the woman with the hemorrhage.

“Bible reading is an education in itself.”  — Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The Bible may be without error, but that didn’t prevent nine mistakes from finding their way into the Saint John’s Bible — a masterpiece 12 years in the making.

But its creators simply handled the errata with a nod to tradition, echoing the medieval monks who corrected slips not by hiding them but by illuminating them with playful marginalia: a bird here, a bee there, even a lemur tugging a missing line back into place.

Those nine tiny blunders aren’t flaws so much as fingerprints — reminders that while Scripture is flawless, its transcription is the work of human hands, with all the gifts and limitations that brings. And that very humanity is part of what makes the Saint John’s Bible so beloved wherever it travels.

This fall, coinciding with St. Mark’s College’s 70th anniversary and Corpus Christi College’s 25th, the colleges hosted one of the Bible’s most sought-after volumes — Gospels and Acts — for a three-month residency.

On Sept. 17, the colleges marked its arrival with an event featuring Brad Neary, director of The Saint John’s Bible project, who captivated a large audience of students, faculty, and community members with the story of the Bible’s remarkable creation.

As someone who has worked with the Saint John’s Bible for well over a decade and with virtually all its scribes and artists, one of my favourite roles has been taking the volume out into the community: schools, parishes, and gatherings large and small. By the end of its time with us, I had presented the Bible up close to more than 800 people across some 70 individual showings.

These visits included everything from kindergarten and primary classrooms at St. Patrick’s Elementary, to senior high students at St. Thomas More Collegiate and St. Thomas Aquinas; Grade 8 and 12 classes at Little Flower Academy and Notre Dame; and staff and students at John Paul II Academy. Virtually all religious education students at Vancouver College — along with their teachers and staff — also had the chance to encounter the volume.

Parishes welcomed it warmly as well, especially St. Matthew’s in Surrey, St. Mary’s in Vancouver, and a closing presentation to the Catholic Women’s League at St. Peter’s in New Westminster.

The Bible  visited the JPII Centre twice: first for Archdiocesan staff, then for Catholic principals at a regular meeting. On campus, it was presented to graduates of St. Mark’s College’s graduate school of education and to parishioners of St. Mark’s Parish.

As the Jubilee Year of Hope draws to a close this Christmas season, we invited parishioners across the Archdiocese of Vancouver to share their journeys of faith. For them it was a year defined by pilgrimage, renewal, and as one contributor put it, “Waters of Grace.” Their stories remind us that hope is not a feeling, but a choice to trust in God’s providence amid the trials of life.

Growing in the virtue of hope

Losing my job just two weeks after getting married was overwhelming and honestly not how I imagined the start of married life. Fear and uncertainty set in quickly. Around that time, I reached out to my spiritual mentor, and he shared the example of Martha and Mary – which, interestingly, was also the Gospel that same week. He simply asked me: Would I choose to be overwhelmed like Martha, or would I rest in God like Mary?

That question stayed with me. I chose to be like Mary of Bethany – to sit at the Lord’s feet, surrender the situation, and trust him completely. That decision changed how I walked through this season. During my unemployment, I gave many interviews, but nothing seemed to move forward. On the very first day without a job, I came across an opening that felt like a real boost to my career. I applied in July with a quiet sense of peace, trusting God to lead the way.

The interview process continued through Aug. with three rounds plus HR. After the final interview, Sept. was silent. The waiting was hard, but instead of giving in to fear, I leaned into prayer and trust. This phase also drew my husband and me closer – to God and to each other. Our marriage didn’t begin with a smooth, storybook start; it began with challenges that led us into family prayer and helped us build a truly Christ-centred marriage.

I finally received my offer letter in October. I lost my previous job on the feast of St. Anthony, and I had trusted in his intercession that God would restore what was lost. Today, I see that prayer answered – far beyond what I imagined. This journey taught me that hope isn’t the absence of struggle, but the choice to trust God in the middle of it. All praise and glory to God, whose timing is always perfect.

— Joyce Villaverde, Youth and Young Adult Ministry Coordinator

Christ is our hope

We usually hear: Christ is our hope! But what does it mean? How do we understand hope?