The Obama administration timed the announcement perfectly – right smack in the middle of the United States Bishops ad limina visits with the Holy Father during which the threat to our religious liberty is a primary concern, and just before the March for Life in Washington, DC.

On Thursday, January 19, Pope Benedict XVI remarked about this in his address to Region IV of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB):

“In the light of these considerations, it is imperative that the entire Catholic community in the United States come to realize the grave threats to the Church’s public moral witness presented by a radical secularism which finds increasing expression in the political and cultural spheres. The seriousness of these threats needs to be clearly appreciated at every level of ecclesial life. Of particular concern are certain attempts being made to limit that most cherished of American freedoms, the freedom of religion. Many of you have pointed out that concerted efforts have been made to deny the right of conscientious objection on the part of Catholic individuals and institutions with regard to cooperation in intrinsically evil practices. Others have spoken to me of a worrying tendency to reduce religious freedom to mere freedom of worship without guarantees of respect for freedom of conscience.” (Read the full text here.)

The Holy Father cited this as a “grave threat” in which we’re being forced to cooperate in “intrinsically evil practices.”

Well, the USCCB isn’t going to take this lying down. They’ve vowed to fight this order as “literally unconscionable.” “In effect, the president is saying we have a year to figure out how to violate our consciences,” said Cardinal-designate Timothy Dolan, USCCB president, in a LifeSiteNews interview on January 20. “To force American citizens to choose between violating their consciences and forgoing their healthcare is literally unconscionable,” he continued. “It is as much an attack on access to health care as on religious freedom. Historically this represents a challenge and a compromise of our religious liberty.” (Read the entire story here.)

Cardinal-designate also spoke out about the HHS ruling in a web video in which he urged Catholics and the public at large to speak out in protest. “Let your elected leaders know that you want religious liberty and rights of conscience restored and that you want the administration’s contraceptive mandate rescinded,” he said. (View the entire video here.)

Absolutely we have to do that, but we also have to do more. This is both a political and a spiritual battle. We need to educate ourselves about this issue so that we’ll really know what we’re talking about and how to fight it when it rolls out. Even more, we need to prepare ourselves spiritually by receiving the sacraments often and deepening our relationship with the Triune God. We also need to step up our prayer life, praying not only for ourselves and our loved ones, but also for our bishops in their part of the fight. We have to pray for the administration to change its ways, and for a new administration that will be able to undo the harm caused by the current one. Yet, there’s even more we can do. We can fast, make spiritual sacrifices, do works of mercy, increase our self-discipline, and offer it for a moral and acceptable resolution to this crisis because this is just a next step in the persecution of the Catholic faith in our country.

There’s much we can do, and we need to begin now. We simply can’t take this lying down.

As I stood at the kitchen counter trying to down the supplements as quickly as possible, I dropped one. I knew because I heard it drop, but didn’t know which one it was because I wasn’t keeping track of which ones I’d taken and which I’d not. I was pretty sure it was a big white calcium tablet, so I scoured the floor for it. It was nowhere in sight. I checked under the wine rack. Nope. I fished under the stove. Not there, either. Between the fridge and counter? No. Under the rug? Nada. At this point, I was fairly irritated, which made me all the more determined to hunt that derelict down. Surely I’m smarter than a horse-pill vitamin! (That’s a rhetorical exclamation, by the way.)

After a pout or two, I decided to try thinking out of the box. What if it wasn’t a calcium tablet that dropped, but rather one of the other supplement tablets that had fallen instead?

I decided to run my search and rescue from another perspective, so I moved to a different corner of the kitchen. And then I saw it. There, right under the spot I’d been standing before, was a neutral-colored (read puke-brown) multi-vitamin! It had blended in with the color of our hardwood floors, and so I overlooked it. Just for spite, I scooped it up, brushed it off, and downed it in one swoop.

I’d missed seeing the dropped vitamin on the first search because I’d stubbornly locked myself into thinking that it was a white, not brown, tablet for which I was looking. I missed the “right” vitamin because I was looking for the “wrong” one.

Isn’t that what so many of us do during the Christmas season? We lock ourselves into thinking that we only can discover Christ in a particular way – in a white tablet, if you will – when he might actually be revealing himself to us in a completely different way. Often, he appears right under the spot on which we stand, figuratively speaking. We miss him because we’re determined that he should meet our expectations.

We race through Advent, doing all those Christmas-y things that we think will lead the way to him, like shopping, decorating, baking, and partying. We might do some charitable works, which are noble and needed and give us a sense of worth.  The tree is lovely to look at, the music lifts our spirits (at least for a while), the lights are enticing, and the goodies make our tummies feel satisfied (temporarily). Family gatherings are a riot (sometimes literally), and giving and receiving gifts is a real high. The concerts warm our hearts and the liturgies elevate them to heaven. It’s all good and wonderful, and all of it is important.

However, if we look for Christ only in that – only in the white tablet of the Christmas glitz and activity – we risk missing him as he wishes to reveal himself to us, in the less conspicuous brown tablet. I’ve spoken with countless people who relate that, each year after all the Christmas hoopla subsides, they find themselves feeling somehow let-down or sad. That’s because they’ve missed the subtle coming of the Babe in the quiet moments and small, unexpected happenings around them. More importantly, they miss his subtle approach within their own hearts because they continue to search for him outside of themselves. When all the exterior goings-on are over, they’re left feeling empty and alone.

We can change that, beginning right now, by stepping to another corner and looking at the layout from a new perspective. It’s fine to participate in all the holiday traditions and excitement; we just can’t let that be our only way to search for the Newborn King. We need to find creative, meaningful ways to observe his coming. Perhaps it means a new prayer routine, some concentrated Scripture reading, or a pilgrimage to a holy place. Maybe it means a daily ten-minute break to meditate on the miracle of the Word Incarnate, opening our hearts to whatever he has in store for us.It matters less what we do as it does how we do it – with love, humility, faith, and genuine desire.

When we stop looking for the big, white tablet and allow our eyes to rest on the less obvious brown one, we’ll discover more than we’d ever hoped. We’ll discover our Lord in all his magnificence – a magnificence so grand it won’t disappear when the decorations do. And we’ll have found it right under the spot on which we stood.

I’m actually delighted to see retailers dropping prices and promoting sales. In this economy, we all can use a price break. Additionally, it shows that retailers can sell items for far less and still turn a profit! Sales (even holiday sales) are fine in and of themselves, but they become a danger to society when they encourage consumerism above family tradition.

One would argue that no one is forced to shop on those days, and I agree. However, when retailers offer outrageous deals on limited quantities for a specified amount of time, they panic consumers who are trying to stretch their dollars as far as possible. What’s more, doing this on holidays (as opposed to other times of the year), manipulates consumers – especially parents convinced that Susie and Johnny will be happy on Christmas morning only if they get the toy all their friends are talking about – and plants false notions in their hearts. Consumers who fall for this propaganda come to believe that they are doing good things for their families by buying them the “perfect gift,” which they now think they can afford because of the sale. Sadly, most of it is purchased on credit, which only increases their financial difficulties, but that’s fodder for another column…

With this mindset, families are being pulled away from the family table on holidays and toward the outlandish world of competition and merchandising. Instead of spending focused time together during which they can foster unity and tradition, relish a relaxed meal, and share real affection, concern, and interest in one another, they’re riffling through sales flyers, plotting merchant routes, piling into the car and heading out to get in on the best deals in town. Worse is when the family is divided, with Mom heading for the department store, Dad heading for the hardware store, and the kids either off to the mall or left behind at home. Even if the sale begins after the usual celebration time for most families, they’re anticipating the big holiday sale and adjusting schedules and activities in order to participate.

By digging deeper into the holidays with their holiday sales, retailers are digging deeper into what should be sacred time for families, and we’re letting them. If we didn’t attend the holiday sales, retailers wouldn’t hold them. If we weren’t willing to cut Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner short for them, retailers wouldn’t open their doors for us at those hours. They’re only giving us what we seem to want.

But do we really want that? The key is to form ourselves and our children into not wanting it, and that starts by forming strong families in an atmosphere that stands firm against the current. When it’s our time together, it’s our time together. Period. That takes guts and self-discipline, but it can be done. This is something I talk a lot about in my latest book, Strengthening Your Family: A Catholic Approach to Holiness at Home, just released by Our Sunday Visitor. When our homes are places of joy and belonging, when we obviously value our times and traditions together, and demonstrate true commitment to one another, the current outside rushes past without dragging us along with it.

Oh, sure. We might save $100 on that new gizmo the kids want for Christmas if we rush out the door in the middle of the night…or right after the pumpkin pie’s been wolfed down. But is that really worth missing the laughs and stupid (sometimes very stupid) family jokes? How about the knowing glances between siblings over the memory of a childhood prank?  Is it really worth diminishing the satisfaction of lolling around together after having enjoyed a great meal? Or the chance to savor all the beautiful holiday experiences and impressions? Is it worth deterring the asides and inflections that spontaneously surface when we’re all together and no one’s in a hurry to get anywhere?

The word “holiday” is derived from the word “holy day,” a term coined in the early Church to represent sacred festivals, days of special significance during which people rested from usual activities. Holidays were meant to be times to commemorate and celebrate the themes and symbols that mean something to us, and that help make us who we are. Let’s show the retailers that our families are more important to us that their holiday sales. Who knows? Perhaps it will help them to realize that the families of their employees and their own families are more important, too. The family table simply cannot be replaced by a shopping cart, no matter how good the deal. When we turn holidays back into holy days, not only will our individual families benefit, but all of society will benefit as well.

Team Obama has launched “Attack Watch,” an interactive website and subcategory of www.mybarackobama.com produced by Obama for America, the president’s PR crew. Americans are asked to use this site to report “smears” against the President, his policies, or his administration. Smears can include anything from verbal attacks, to ridicule, to group protests. Basically, our president and his administration are asking us to tattle on each other in the case – surprise, surprise – one of us might disagree with him. Interestingly enough, Hitler and Stalin had similar, although less technologically advanced, systems in place.

Attack Watch is a spinoff of the president’s 2009 effort to collect information on anyone who opposed ObamaCare. Americans were asked to report anything “fishy” they heard about health care reform to flag@whitehouse.gov. “Fishy” is an ambiguous term, and it’s a dangerous thing to ask people to report on something ill defined, if at all. So, if I write a blog post, and call it, say, “I Spy is more than child’s play,” could somebody consider that “fishy?” If I write that I don’t like Obama’s policies one iota, is somebody going to report me? Will I find a group of men wearing suits and sunglasses standing at my door?

This brings back eerie memories of grade school, when kids would listen in on others’ conversations or provoke peers into saying something mean about another kid just so they could find out who liked who or who they could scapegoat next. Do you remember the hurt and confusion that would cause? Do you remember the face of the kid who got railed off the playground because he was a little “different?” Those kinds of he-said-she-said traps were troublesome enough at the elementary level. Now we’re talking about real life adults pulling the same stuff, but in a different and more impactful context.

Other presidents have done similar spying games with US citizens, and although Attack Watch is terribly alarming, it isn’t completely new. What’s new is the impression one gets when standing back to look at the broad scope of things. It isn’t only the president that’s dangled his fingers (or the fingers of his aides) into playing I Spy, but also our public school system. Consider the Elementary and Secondary Integrated Data System (ESIDS), which is a data collection agency that practices predictive profiling by gathering often personal and potentially damaging information from and about our nation’s school children. Another gem of an institution, SPEED/ExPRESS (Standardization of Post-Secondary Education Electronic Data/Exchange of Permanent Records Electronically for Students) not only gathers information about our kids (including psychological monitoring), but also tracks them into adulthood!

It would be naive to think that this will never happen to you or your loved ones. It’s already happened to Fenelon Clan. Until recently, I was participating in a life-long tracking study that began when I was a freshman in high school. It asked increasingly personal questions about my family, my parents, and our political and religious beliefs while promising “complete confidentiality.” The agency conducting the study sent a bi-annual questionaire to my home, which I was expected to answer and return. Granted, I received a stipend for filling out each survey, but eventually I became so perturbed with the amount of time it took to accomplish (often more than an hour) and the intrusiveness of the questions, that I just stopped responding to the questionaires.

That’s when the bombardment began! Emails, phone calls…every single day. They wanted to know why I’d stopped participating in the study and hoped to convince me of its importance. My desire to quit the study had more to do with a sick feeling in my gut than it did the inconvenience of the time it took away from my more important work (my family and my writing), and so I told them that I did not want them to contact me again.

They were nice enough about it, and left me alone from then on. But now I wonder – what was that information used for, anyway? Why did they feel it was vital to track my high school peers and me? Was the study truly confidential? Will my years of participation come back to haunt me someday? After hearing about the ESIDS and Attack Watch, I’m feeling even more uncertain about having gone along with the study and even more grateful that I pulled out.

This disturbing trend not only affected me, but also my children. One of the main reasons we switched from public schooling to home schooling was because of the sudden onslaught of social workers who began to meet privately with my children — not only without my permission, but without my fore-knowledge. The notes home came in streams: “your child met with the social worker today and discussed xyz” and always “xyz” was something that I believed only I or my husband should be discussing – privately – with our children. I repeatedly asked for prior notification of these meetings, but was never given it. To top it off, one day I discovered one of our children rummaging through our medicine cabinet, pen and paper in hand. When I asked the child what was going on, there was a look of alarm and confusion. At first, the child didn’t want to answer me. With some prying, I got it out: Our child had been told by the teacher to go through our medicine cabinet and make a list of all medications – both over the counter and prescription – and bring the list back to school the next day without telling the parents!

That was the end of that. No entity – public or private – has the right to usurp my authority over, and responsibility for, my child. Period. We took our children out of public school mid-year and never looked back. Home schooling hasn’t been the perfect solution for us, but at least we’ve (hopefully) protected our children from becoming the victim of surreptitious and potentially harmful information gathering campaigns. And there’s nothing fishy about that.

He has no right to tell me what to do with my own body! She fumed to herself.

She got up, stepped out of the pew, and headed down the aisle toward the door. Once on the outside, she never went back.

Melanie (not her real name) represents the growing number of Catholics who are leaving the Church. They leave for various reasons. Some are looking for something more. Some have had a negative experience with a priest or parish worker. Some think they’ve committed an unforgivable sin. Some disagree with Church authority and teaching. Some leave for reasons they can’t quite pinpoint. They all leave because they somehow fail to see the fullness of Truth and the reality of what the Church has to offer.

Studies conducted by the Pew Forum show that one-in-ten American adults have left the Catholic Church after having been raised Catholic. Where are they all going? Those leaving seem evenly divided between those joining a Protestant faith tradition and those not adhering to any faith. Of those joining Protestant churches, most end up in evangelical denominations, with fewer joining mainline Protestant denominations. While the Church is consistently welcoming new members, those leaving outnumber those who have joined by a four-to-one margin!

Have you ever been in Melanie’s place? Have you ever lapsed in your Catholic faith? Let things slide for a while? Stopped practicing altogether? Was there a time in your life when you asked yourself, “When’s God gonna call me back?”

Then let others learn from your experience — others who are hurting, who have lost their zeal for the Catholic faith, who remain sporadically involved in the Church, who need to understand why they’ve left, what’s kept them away, and how they can come back.

Whether you’ve found your way home or are still searching, I want to listen to your story, learn from it, and use what I’ve learned in my newest book, When’s God Gonna Call Me Back?, scheduled for release in Spring 2010 by Liguori Publications. Written in the same warm conversational tone as When’s God Gonna Show Up? and using entertaining and thought-provoking stories, Scripture passages and reflection questions, When’s God Gonna Call Me Back? will help episodic Catholics become more fully alive and part of the Church.  Tell me your story in person, over the phone, via email or personal letter. Sign your name or submit it anonymously. No names or identifying details will be used in the book, so your story will remain confidential. Guaranteed. Answer the questions below and send it to the contact at the bottom of the page. It’s that simple, and it can do so much good!

Now hurry. There are people out there waiting for the hope and healing only you can offer them. Likely, you’ll experience some healing of your own in the process!

1. Why did you leave the Church? What was the defining moment in which you said, “That’s it. I’m outta here!”?

2. What kept you away and for how long? What substituted for your relationship with the Catholic Church? With God?

3. What brought you back? What was the defining moment in which you said, “I’ve gotta go home!”? or if you haven’t come back, why not?

4. May I contact you if I have further questions?

Send your stories by January 25, 2010 to:

[Mark the envelopes CALL ME BACK]

Email to: marge@margefenelon.com (If you want to tell me your story over the phone, contact me through email to arrange a phone interview.)

I’m happy to report that our marriage has fared far, far better. To be sure, it hasn’t been a carefree cruise. We’ve been through some really rough times: Three premature babies, job loss, financial hardship, bouts of poor health, and a variety of other obstacles to overcome. Obviously, our life together hasn’t been a picnic.

It has, however, been a great joy and I wouldn’t trade a single second of it all the chocolate in the world. If you knew how much I love chocolate, you’d understand the value of what I just said! Each adversity made us a little tougher, a little wiser and helped to shape us a bit more like the image of the Blessed Trinity that a married couple is meant to be. Each difficulty helped to test, refine, and strengthen us in our commitment to each other and in the living of our Catholic faith. It’s like St. Peter said:

“… So that the genius of your faith — being more precious than gold that, though perishable, is tested by fire — may be found to result in praise and glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” (1Pe 1:7)

I’d like to be able to say the same about our country. I’d like to be able to say that each adversity has made us a little tougher, a little wiser, and a bit more like the image of God that we are meant to be. I’d like to be able to say that each difficulty helped to test, refine, and strengthen us in our commitment to each other as a nation and in the living of our respective faiths. In some cases, I think that has indeed happened and I’m very grateful. In other cases, it seems as though we’re headed for economic disaster and moral atrophy.

We can’t prevent adversity from coming our way, nor would we necessarily want to if it’s in God’s divine plan for us. We do, however, want to meet it head-on with joy, hope, courage and trust in God’s mercy and power. Just as a married couple knows that their life together will not always be smooth sailing and yet they remain firm in their commitment to God and each other, so too, should we realize that the history of our country will not always be smooth sailing and yet we must remain firm in our commitment to God and each other as a nation. Eventually, I pray, we’ll be able to look back and see how much we’ve grown. That’s the genius of our faith.

When I got home, however, it seemed as if everything that had been put in was emptied out. The headlines were filled with calamity and new challenges met me in seemingly every area of my life.

The Marines have launched a major military operation in Afghanistan, Farah, Michael, and Ed are dead, 467,000-some jobs down the tubes, Madoff’s off to prison, President Obama’s march toward socialized medicine continues and he’s been catering to a powerful interest group that threatens the sanctity of marriage.

On the home front I’ve got a late-teen-early-adult screaming for independence, a teenager who’s discovered he’s a teenager, a newly-adult daughter (turned 21 Saturday) and a son in Iraq who I miss and worry about constantly.

Well, I never was a big fan of Farah, Michael or Ed but I am sorry for their passing for the sake of their families. The rising unemployment rate worries but doesn’t surprise me. Madoff…I’ll let that one alone. Socialized medicine? Yup. It’s a big concern just like the raging joblessness in our country. Threats to the sanctity of marriage leave me extremely uneasy, too. The offensive in Afghanistan scares the bijeebers out of me. Recently surfaced issues and twenty-four years of parenting have taught me that there is no status quo and I’ll never be free from worrying about my kids.

I was especially disturbed, however, by my reaction to all these goings-on. After getting home and unpacking, I looked forward to sitting down at the computer and catching up on the "real" world from which I’d been blissfully secluded for the past many days. It didn’t take long for me to sigh, turn the thing off and leave the room.

Later that night, I scolded myself for my defeatist attitude. Hadn’t I just spent time with God, with my community, being rejuvenated and inspired? Hadn’t I just renewed my pledge of faithfulness in striving for everyday sanctity? Hadn’t I just renewed my promise to live in the spirit of the Evangelical Counsels?

Where did all that holy energy go?

It went into mechanistic thinking, that’s where it went. Mechanistic thinking is the kind of thought process in which we separate the human from the Divine, the Sunday sanctity from the weekday sanctity, the cause from the effect. I had separated the graces and gratitude of my workshop from the trials and tribulations of my everyday life. I’d completely forgotten to grab them, internalize them, and apply them to the world around me.

I’m reminded of my friend Job. I have a lot to learn from him because no matter how tough things got for him, he never gave up hoping in the Lord. In turn, the Lord rewarded him for his faithfulness.

If you direct your heart rightly, you will stretch out your hands toward him. If iniquity is in your hand, put it far away, and do not let wickedness reside in your tents. Surely then you will lift up your face without blemish; you will be secure, and will not fear. You will forget your misery; you will remember it as waters that have passed away. And your life will be brighter than the noonday; its darkness will be like the morning. And you will have confidence, because there is hope; you will be protected and take your rest in safety. (Job 11:13-18)

If I have hope, my life will be brighter than the noonday, I will be protected and take my rest in safety. The trick is not to pack away the times of grace and rejuvenation but to unfold them and carry them along with me in my daily life.

Granted, we here in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee have no idea what lies ahead for us. Perhaps there’s another archbishop out there for us that will fill the huge void left by Timothy M. Dolan. Truly, there’s no one who can take his place exactly and so we’ll have to work hard to open our minds and hearts to our new archbishop when he arrives.

In the mean time, we need to savor the memories, learn the lessons, and follow the example of our former shepherd.

We need to remember and emulate the way he literally embraced everyone around him. I remember one time lovingly joking that, “My greatest fear in life is that, when Archbishop Dolan hugs me, I won’t make it back out alive.” That would make more sense to folks who know that I’m a mere 5’2″ to the Archbishop’s more towering form. Actually, I love his hugs. I love the way he gathers folks in around him. He has a way of giving a genuine, chaste, and fatherly embrace and looking into your eyes that lets you know he loves you and sees the Christ in you. Milwaukee, we need to embrace those around us, look into their eyes, and let them know we love them and see the Christ in them.

We need to remember and emulate his generosity. He gives of himself, not his office. When I shyly asked him to write the Foreword for “When’s God Gonna Show Up?”, he immediately and graciously honored my request. Not only that, but he wrote an astoundlingly flattering Foreword that left me speechless and feeling oh-so small. I probably should be smacked for this, but I sent back a request that he tone it down because I wasn’t sure I could live up to it. His somewhat joking response was, “What I have written, I have written.” Then he turned around and wrote the Foreword for “Ecce Mater Tua — Behold, Your Mother” in the same gracious and caring way. Milwaukee, we need to give of ourselves — not our office — to benefit others.

We need to remember and emulate how unassuming he is. We had the extreme honor of twice having him to the Fenelon Clan Abode for supper and a gathering of some of our young adult and seminarian friends. He was so relaxed, so joyful and down to earth that he seemed like a happy dad sitting down for a meal with his family. He impressed the young folk with his fatherly kindness and realness. He was sincerely interested in everything each one had to say. I, on the other hand, was mortified when he rose from the table, walked into my kitchen, reached into my shamefully messy cabinet, grabbed the dish soap and began to wash my dishes! I cannot describe the humbling feeling of having my archbishop wash my dishes. Yet, he did it in a way that was so plain and natural that you’d think it was perfectly normal. The young folk still talk about the supreme example he set for them. Milwaukee, we need to be unassuming, grab the dish soap, and plainly, naturally, start washing other people’s dishes.

We need to remember and emulate his attention to detail. This one is more difficult, and I believe it’s a gift not everyone has innately. I know I don’t, but I’d like to have it. Archbishop Dolan has the remarkable ability to capture and retain details about people he’s met, worked with, and received correspondence from. He can look at a face and make a connection just as any good father strives to stay connected with his children. Milwaukee, we need to pay attention to and strive to retain the details of the other people in our lives.

We need to remember and emulate his dependence on God and not his own resources. I’ve heard him admit his imperfections. I’ve heard him admit that he doesn’t always know all the answers (although I might beg to differ with his assessment). I’ve heard him admit that he struggles with worry over his archdiocese, that he, too, has sleepless nights. Yet I’ve also heard him admit that in those struggles, he turns to God for guidance and strenght and to our Blessed Mother for intercession and comfort. Milwaukee, we need to depend on God and our Blessed Mother and not solely on our own resources.

Archbishop Dolan made a significant impact on the Archdiocese of Milwaukee, one that won’t easily be forgotten. If I dare, I would say that the best sign of gratitude we can offer him is to emulate the example he set for us to the best of our abilities. New York, I hope you’ll do the same.

The bells were chiming the Gloria during Easter Vigil at our parish and I was contemplating the Glory of the Resurrection. But it wasn’t just Christ’s Resurrection I was thinking about.

I was thinking about our oldest son serving in the military and about to embark on his deployment to the Middle East. I was remembering whining and fretting to a wise advisor about my fears that Matt won’t return from this mission. I’d let my mother-heart run wild with anxiety. He didn’t deny the possibility of Matt’s not returning. Instead, he made a promise to me. He promised that, no matter what happens, there WILL be a Resurrection. After Good Friday, there’s always a Resurrection.

Standing there, candle in hand, tears filling my eyes and a lump in my throat, I was thinking to myself that, even if I lose Matt during this deployment (and I’m not planning on it, I assure you), I will see him again at the Resurrection. God willing, we’ll see each other again in heaven. And then, there will be no more anxiety, no more sad partings, no more separation and uncertainty. The bells weren’t chiming the truth of Christ’s Resurrection alone, they were chiming the hope of the Resurrection for all of us.

Our Lord’s conversation with Martha after the death of Lazarus came back to me:

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” (John 11:24-27).

Somehow at that moment, I felt more peace than I’ve had in a while. A new feeling came over me — a kind of melancholic calm and a closeness to Christ I’ve not felt in quite that way before. It was the feeling that after having been to more Easter Vigils than I’d like to count, blowing out more Easter tapers than I’d like to remember, gorging on more Easter basket contents than I’d like to admit, I finally got it. I finally understood what the Resurrection really means.

The Catechism explains it this way:

Finally, Christ’s Resurrection — the risen Christ himself — is the principle and source of our future resurrection: “Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep…For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive.” The risen Christ lives in the hearts of his faithful while they await that fulfillment. In Christ, Christians “have tasted…the powers of the age to come” and their lives are swept up by Christ into the heart of divine life, so that they may “live no longer for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.”

We live the resurrection everyday, all day. We live not in anxiety and woe, but in hopefulness and joy, knowing that there’s more to it than our human senses and emotions can grasp. The miraculous Bible story we read every single year isn’t the story of Jesus of Nazareth alone. It’s my story. It’s your story. It’s Matt’s story.

Yes, I could lose him this deployment. If that should happen, it will rip my heart out and I will never be the same. But if I do lose him, if God so chooses this path for him — for me, for the Fenelon Clan — then we also will be assured that after Good Friday there will be a Resurrection.

As I looked around the auditorium, I saw the faces of young men and women, parents, wives, children and siblings. I saw families, couples, and singles. I saw…people. Real, live people.

The last time Matt was deployed my husband, Mark, and I encountered a number of occasions in which we were used as political sounding boards for those who oppose the war in the Middle East or who loathe the military. It seems that they felt as though we were somehow to blame, or were fiendishly contributing to the problem. Perhaps they thought that reaming us out would effect some miraculous change. Did they think that venting to military personnel or their families would further their anti-war cause?

Somehow folks have it in mind that those of us who belong to, or have a loved one in the military, are war-mongering radicals. So, they vent their frustrations on anyone remotely involved in the armed forces. As a soldier, I’m sure Matt’s received even worse treatment.

I respect their opinions and understand their frustrations. In fact, I’m frustrated, too. Matt’s frustrated. Our family and friends are frustrated. Do we want to be separated from Matt? Of course not! Do we want Matt’s life to be endangered 24-7 for the next year? Of course not! Nor do we want any other family separated or any other soldier endangered. But, military personnel and their families are called to serve, and it’s a noble calling.

Consider what Bishop Fulton Sheen once said about military service: “The great French preacher Lacordaire once said the vocation of a soldier is next in dignity to the priesthood, not only because it commissioned him to defend justice on the field of battle and order on the field of peace, but also because it called him to the spirit and intention of sacrifice.”

Or the Great John Paul II: “But where did they find the strength necessary to do their duty to the full, other than in total adherence to the professed ideals? Many of them believed in Christ, and his words illumined their existence and gave an exemplary value to their sacrifice.”

I’m also sure that Mark and I will be snagged as venting posts again and again over the course of the coming year and a half. Each time, I’ll have to keep in mind that they vent because they’re well-meaning but ignorant.

Soldiers and their families do not cause war. In fact, I’ll bet you my entire estate that, if you ask every single soldier or commanding officer in any of the seven branches of our US military, not a single one will say that he/she actually wants to engage in battle. Not one of them will tell you that they want to be separated from their loved ones for months — sometimes a whole year — at a time. Not one of them will tell you that they want to see death and destruction. Not one of them will tell you that they get a thrill out of firing their weapon. Not one.

They will, however, tell you that they want to serve their country. They will tell you that the military is a particular calling. They will tell you that they want to be peacekeepers and guardians of freedom. They will tell you that soldiers do more than just fight: they protect vital supply shipments, rescue families from torture and destruction, and bring hope to the hopeless. They will tell you that, although the cost in terms of hardship and heartbreak is incomprehensible, they’re willing to make that sacrifice.

They don’t want this war, but they’ll serve to the best of their ability. And for that, they deserve our respect, support, love, and prayers. Soldiers are people, too.