Category: Behold Vancouver

If you’ve got a question for Fr. Josh, comment below with #AskFrJosh or share a Glory Story of how God has worked in your life with #GloryStory. 

Your question or story may be featured in the next video! Today, Fr. Josh answers a question from Stacy Jens: “What about making a resolution to strive harder to combat a vice or a sin?” Ask Fr. Josh is the question and answer show to help you navigate life when our Catholic Faith doesn’t give an easy “fill-in-the-blank” answer. 

In each video, Father addresses one question from three different perspectives: your relationship with God, your relationship with the Church, and your relationship with others.

This Lent, you don’t have to wait until you feel ready, strong, or spiritual enough. God is ready to meet you right where you are. 

In this conversation, Fr. Columba Jordan and Fr. Mike Schmitz talk about what God is really asking us for–an offering of whatever we have to give right now. 

From prayer and fasting to exercise, they explore why the spiritual life can never be separated from the physical. Reflecting on ordinary actions, like a short walk or a simple fast, they reveal that anything can become an act of worship when offered with love.

“But because he wished to justify himself, he said to Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’” Mike and Dave break down the Parable of the Good Samaritan, explain why this story is so important and expand on the radical love Jesus calls us to.

“The Apostolic Age is not Utopian” by Msgr. James Shea, President of The University of Mary Msgr. 

Shea walks us through the history of the Church’s struggles and proposes both a soteriology and ecclesiology that answers the needs of today’s apostolic realities.

How prepared are you to take part in “the sermon on the plane”?The captain has turned on the Fasten Seatbelt sign. You have stowed your carry-on luggage underneath the seat in front of you.

After you have taken a moment to locate the emergency exit nearest you, turn to the person next to you. You have a rare and valuable opportunity: an almost unique opportunity to have a deep, meaningful conversation with a stranger.

Deacon Jim Hallman calls the phenomenon of airplane faith discussions “the sermon on the plane.”

Think about it. You and the person sitting next to you already have something in common – one or both of the cities you’re flying between. You also both have time to kill with someone you will probably never see again.

That leaves people wide open.

When I asked Facebook friends if they had ever discussed the faith on an airplane, the response was overwhelming: “Yes!” “Just yesterday!” and “Every. Single. Time.”

Catherine Suprenant, who does women’s ministry in Pennsylvania, says she loves airplanes for this reason. “People seem to have no opposition to talking religion if they’re willing to talk to someone on a plane,” she said.

It all starts when you make the conscious choice to be available.

“I used to wall myself off with headphones and short answers,” Patrick O’Meara, who heads a financial company, told me. “I was convicted that this is not how the Lord wanted me to behave. How could I be his instrument that way?”

So he started taking the earbuds out and saying hello — and an outpouring of grace followed.

Everyone has their way of making this happen. Kansan Jenny Carter said praying her rosary at the start of the flight sparks conversations. O’Meara said the Liturgy of the Hours does it for him.

Nikki Walz said her connection to Benedictine College does it. “Once you tell them where you went to school, it just naturally leads to discussions of the faith,” she said.

However they start, airplane encounters test your apologetics know-how.

One of Walz’ seatmates was a “spiritual naturalist with leanings toward Buddhism.” Another with a Baptist minister who wanted to talk about the Bible. Another was with a woman who was raised Catholic “but left because of the abuse scandal and the lack of ordination of women.”

She told every one of them about the beauty of the Catholic faith.

Another Benedictine graduate, Brad Geist, had a great conversation with an evangelical Christian who was uncomfortable with Catholic devotion to the saints. “I asked her if she would ask her friends to pray for her before she would go oversees for her ministry,” Geist told me.

Why does life feel empty—even when everything seems “fine”? 

Fr. Mike Schmitz and Dr. Arthur Brooks explore why modern life leaves so many people restless, anxious, and disconnected. From neuroscience to faith, they reveal why pleasure isn’t happiness, why technology can’t give us meaning, and how returning to God may be the only way out of the Matrix. 

If you’ve been searching for purpose, this conversation will change the way you see happiness—and your life.

What happens when a deep love for Scripture leads someone away from the Catholic Church—and then all the way back? 

In this powerful conversation, Fr. Mike Schmitz sits down with Jeff Cavins to explore his unexpected journey: from growing up Catholic, to becoming a Protestant pastor for over a decade, to discovering what he didn’t even realize was missing. 

Jeff shares how studying the Bible intensely led him to the Early Church Fathers, the Eucharist, apostolic authority, and ultimately back to the Church Christ founded. Along the way, they reflect on why so many Catholics feel like there’s “no place” for their hunger for Scripture—and why that belief couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Jeff and Fr. Mike also reflect on how five years later, the Bible in a Year continues to bear fruit.

What happens when a deep love for Scripture leads someone away from the Catholic Church—and then all the way back? 

In this powerful conversation, Fr. Mike Schmitz sits down with Jeff Cavins to explore his unexpected journey: from growing up Catholic, to becoming a Protestant pastor for over a decade, to discovering what he didn’t even realize was missing. 

Jeff shares how studying the Bible intensely led him to the Early Church Fathers, the Eucharist, apostolic authority, and ultimately back to the Church Christ founded. Along the way, they reflect on why so many Catholics feel like there’s “no place” for their hunger for Scripture—and why that belief couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Jeff and Fr. Mike also reflect on how five years later, the Bible in a Year continues to bear fruit.

We shouldn’t “waste” doubt. Our faith needs it. “Doubting” Thomas the Apostle can teach us plenty then.

Each year on Divine Mercy Sunday — the 2nd Sunday of Easter — the Gospel for Mass is the story of “doubting Thomas” (John 20:19-20, 24-29).

But what is the connection between mercy and doubt? The Letter of Jude instructs us: Keep yourselves in the love of God as you await the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you eternal life. And have mercy on those who doubt (Jude 1:21-22).

The miracle of mercy

Thomas was the Apostle who, the night before Jesus died, openly lamented, Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way? (Jn 14:5). 

In Caravaggio’s depiction, we have no clue where the scene is taking place. The artist forgoes any sort of setting, and resorts to a bare, dark background. The blackness acts almost as another character: It represents the inky darkness of doubt in which Thomas dwells — his lonely, lightless impenetrability. Impenetrability is keeping our self all closed up, resistant, not letting ourself be touched. Impenetrability is refusing to let ourself be struck by even the most marvelous, beautiful thing that is there right in front of us. 

Thank God for something greater than our impenetrability, namely, the Presence of Jesus Christ that never fails to come to us, as Jesus does to Thomas in this painting.

Evil can be overcome if we open ourselves to the love of God to the point of contempt of self. This is the fruit of Divine Mercy. In Jesus Christ, God bends down over man to hold out a hand to him, to raise him up, and to help him continue his journey with renewed strength. 

And that is exactly what Caravaggio portrays in his painting. The Risen Jesus is bending down over Thomas, holding out his pierced hand to the Apostle, grasping his wrist and guiding Thomas’ pointed finger — dirty fingernails and all — into his open side. According to the theology of Caravaggio’s painting, there is a way to overcome our impenetrability to divine mercy: by personally penetrating Mercy Incarnate. 

We shouldn’t “waste” doubt. Our faith needs it. “Doubting” Thomas the Apostle can teach us plenty then.

Each year on Divine Mercy Sunday — the 2nd Sunday of Easter — the Gospel for Mass is the story of “doubting Thomas” (John 20:19-20, 24-29).

But what is the connection between mercy and doubt? The Letter of Jude instructs us: Keep yourselves in the love of God as you await the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you eternal life. And have mercy on those who doubt (Jude 1:21-22).

The miracle of mercy

Thomas was the Apostle who, the night before Jesus died, openly lamented, Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way? (Jn 14:5). 

In Caravaggio’s depiction, we have no clue where the scene is taking place. The artist forgoes any sort of setting, and resorts to a bare, dark background. The blackness acts almost as another character: It represents the inky darkness of doubt in which Thomas dwells — his lonely, lightless impenetrability. Impenetrability is keeping our self all closed up, resistant, not letting ourself be touched. Impenetrability is refusing to let ourself be struck by even the most marvelous, beautiful thing that is there right in front of us. 

Thank God for something greater than our impenetrability, namely, the Presence of Jesus Christ that never fails to come to us, as Jesus does to Thomas in this painting.

Evil can be overcome if we open ourselves to the love of God to the point of contempt of self. This is the fruit of Divine Mercy. In Jesus Christ, God bends down over man to hold out a hand to him, to raise him up, and to help him continue his journey with renewed strength. 

And that is exactly what Caravaggio portrays in his painting. The Risen Jesus is bending down over Thomas, holding out his pierced hand to the Apostle, grasping his wrist and guiding Thomas’ pointed finger — dirty fingernails and all — into his open side. According to the theology of Caravaggio’s painting, there is a way to overcome our impenetrability to divine mercy: by personally penetrating Mercy Incarnate.