Domestic Churches Podcast

This morning at Mass we heard the story of Jesus meeting the disciples on the road to Emmaus. As we listened the Gospel being proclaimed, I remembered reflecting on this story after Grandpa died. Grandpa loved to travel, especially to drive on a road trip.

My family adopted my sister. This weekend love forged another bond as my sister got married.

We have a new project starting at work and I've spent many of my working hours over the last few weeks project planning. We've been preparing work breakdowns and effort estimates so we can make a commitment to the business regarding the project's timeline. It's challenging work because there is much unknown at this early stage of the project. As I've spent some time reflecting on this experience of project planning, I was struck by how we approach risks and uncertainty.

We want our children to love these treasured stories as much as we do.

We sat together to enjoy our treats and talk. It was a quick, simple, unplanned, spontaneous conversation. Conversations like this should be common in our domestic churches.

Every evening my family gathers around our kitchen table for dinner together. I look to each of my children and ask "What did you do today?" This week our dinner conversation led to some insights about prayer.

There's a new voice in my domestic church and I've been learning to understand that voice. Learning to understand my daughter's voice has given me a little more insight into how to understand God's voice.

My daughter ran to my wife and exclaimed, "Me so happy!" She unwittingly challenged me to find joy in simple things. Matt Maher's Alive and Breathing reminded me when I find joy to praise the Lord.

The bishops of the United States wrote a message to families titled Follow the Way of Love that elucidated the symbolic potential for the experience of love in the family to reveal the love of God and to engender faith within the members of the family.

Businesses shut down and our homes became our offices. Schools closed and our homes became our classrooms. Parishes closed and our homes remain our churches.

Just as it is valuable to start introducing a game by explaining the objective and the reward, it may be worthwhile to begin the season of Lent by remembering Easter.

My daughters love art! They like to draw, color, and paint so we were excited for a faith formation night at our church reflecting on art.

My daughter grabs the corner of the towel and tosses it off of her face. She squeals and laughs as she enjoys the playful game of peekaboo! During a recent bout of peekaboo, I reflected on how we sometimes play peekaboo with God.

Lego Kingdom by Brian Myers

Recently my toddler daughter was fussing during mass, so I carried her to the back of the church. She rested her head on my shoulder and began to sleep. There are few experiences as a parent more magical than this.

The greeting cards have all been sent. The gifts have all been unwrapped. The colored lights have been packed away. The feast has been consumed and the tins of cookies are now empty. The radio has ended its nonstop carols. The Nativity has been removed from the mantle. This is the first week of ordinary time. What's next?

A new family came into being! My cousin was married, and the wedding made it clear that their family is a domestic church. Before they said their "I do"s, they made their own personal vows to each other. My cousin began his vows by promising to keep God and his amazing grace at the center of their new family. This is a domestic church, a family with God and his amazing grace at the center.

My great aunt died and I attended the funeral. As the liturgy began, we gathered around the baptismal font, placed a white pall on the casket, and sprinkled baptismal water. The priest explained that the white pall reminded us of the white baptismal garment my aunt received many years earlier. From that moment on the word 'interconnected' repeated in my mind for the remainder of the liturgy.

My niece was baptized this week! As the ceremony began, her friends and family gathered around her at the baptismal font. My daughter looked up at me and said "Daddy, I can't see." I lifted her up and held her throughout the ritual so she could see what was happening.

My daughter started kindergarten last week, but it feels like yesterday that I held her for the first time in the delivery room. The idea of a child being in a mother's womb as a permanent dimension of motherhood resonated with me as we sent my daughter to kindergarten for the first time.