When the Beatitudes Feel Like They’re Talking Straight to Us

A Sunday Morning Reflection on Today’s Mass Readings

by Keith Abell, RPh MI Ad Majoram Dei Gloriam

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If you’re reading this on a Sunday morning before or after Mass, you’ve probably just heard (or are about to hear) one of the most famous passages in the entire Gospel: the Beatitudes from Matthew 5. They’re beautiful, poetic, familiar — maybe too familiar. For lifelong cradle Catholics, they can almost slip by like religious background music.

But today’s entire set of readings invites us to hear them differently. Not as a checklist. Not as a spiritual performance review. But as God’s own encouragement spoken to people who are just trying to get through life with faith intact.

And that means you. It means me. It means the tired, the overwhelmed, the humble remnant who still show up on Sunday because we know we need God.

1. Zephaniah Reminds Us: God Sees the Strugglers

In the first reading, God says He will leave behind “a people humble and lowly.” Not the successful. Not the flawless. Not the ones with perfect spiritual résumés.

Just the ones who still seek Him in their struggle.

For many cradle Catholics, that hits home. We grew up in the faith. We know the prayers. But we also know what it feels like to show up at Mass with a heavy heart, a tired mind, or a life that feels like it’s unraveling at the edges.

Zephaniah says God sees all of that and calls us His remnant. His faithful ones. His beloved.

2. The Psalm Shows God’s Heart for the Overlooked

Psalm 146 describes the Lord as the One who “keeps faith forever,” who lifts up the bowed down, feeds the hungry, protects the stranger, and cares for the widow and orphan.

In other words, God leans toward those who feel like they’re carrying more than they can handle.

If you’ve walked into Mass today feeling stretched thin — emotionally, financially, spiritually — the Psalm is God’s gentle way of saying: “I’m here. I’m with you. I will carry you.”

3. St. Paul Reminds Us That God Chooses the Weak

Paul doesn’t sugarcoat it. He flat-out says most of the early Christians weren’t powerful, impressive, or influential. They weren’t the ones the world admired.

And then he says something astonishing: “God chose the foolish… God chose the weak… God chose the lowly…”

Not accidentally. Intentionally.

Paul’s point is simple: God works through ordinary people. People who feel their limits. People who are painfully aware of their imperfections. People who don’t feel “holy enough.”

If that’s you this morning, Paul is saying: “You’re exactly the one God loves to use.”

4. Now the Gospel Comes Alive: Jesus Is Talking To You

And then we reach the Gospel — the Beatitudes. For years, maybe decades, many of us have heard them as moral ideals: Be merciful. Be meek. Be pure. Be a peacemaker.

But look at who Jesus is blessing. Look at how He starts: “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” “Blessed are those who mourn.” “Blessed are the meek.”

These aren’t the spiritually impressive. They’re the spiritually exhausted. The emotionally drained. The quietly faithful. The ones who don’t have it all together.

Sound familiar?

Jesus isn’t giving commands. He’s giving comfort.

He’s looking out at regular people — people like us — and saying: “I see you. I know what life feels like for you. And right there, in that very place, you are blessed.”

5. The Early Church Fathers Saw It This Way Too

The early Christians weren’t living easy lives. Many were struggling, persecuted, grieving, or barely hanging on. So when the early Church Fathers wrote about the Beatitudes, they understood them as tender words of hope.

St. Augustine said the Beatitudes are like a “ladder of healing,” where God lifts up the wounded step by step.

St. John Chrysostom noted that Jesus begins His preaching with blessings for the humble and hurting so that the discouraged would know they have a place in God’s Kingdom.

Origen spoke of the Beatitudes as “medicine for the soul,” applied to people suffering inside and out.

And Gregory of Nyssa believed the Beatitudes weren’t burdens but promises—prophecies of who God is shaping us to become.

For them, the Beatitudes weren’t demands. They were declarations of God’s love for the lowly.

6. What This Means for Us This Sunday

If you walked into church today worried, lonely, stressed, or feeling spiritually “blah”… If you came in wondering where you fit in the Church or in life… If you showed up out of habit, out of hope, or out of sheer spiritual muscle memory…

Jesus has a message for you in the Gospel: “Blessed are you.”

Not “blessed will you be once you fix things.” Not “blessed are the people who have it all together.” Not “blessed are the people who pray better, try harder, or shine brighter.”

Just: “Blessed are you.” Right now. As you are.

The readings today are God’s love letter to tired Catholics who keep showing up.

A Prayer for This Sunday

Lord Jesus,

You speak blessing over the humble, the hurting, and the overwhelmed. You see what no one else sees — the quiet efforts, the hidden struggles, the longing for peace, healing, and hope. Bless me today with the comfort You promised. Give rest to my spirit, strength to my heart, and the courage to trust that Your Kingdom really is for people like me. Amen.

If this reflection spoke to your heart… Please take a moment to like, subscribe, and share this post with another cradle Catholic who might need to hear that today’s Mass readings were written for them too.

And if you ever want help crafting more reflections, I’m here for you.

A New Fire in Old Hearts: What Today’s Conversion Surge Means for Us Cradle Catholics

by Keith Abell, RPh MI
Ad Majoram Dei Gloriam

If you grew up Catholic — the baptismal gown, the first-Communion pictures, the Confirmation you half remember — chances are you’ve spent a lot of years wondering where the Church was headed. Maybe you’ve watched pews thin out, parishes merge, or friends drift away. Maybe Catholicism became something you were, more than something you burned for.

And then… out of nowhere… something surprising started happening.

At the University of Notre Dame — of all places — a record number of students are entering the Church, almost double what they saw last year. That alone is enough to make a cradle Catholic pause. But here’s the real shock:

This isn’t just Notre Dame.

It’s happening everywhere.
Across the U.S.
Across Europe.
Across the world.

A global wave of conversions — real, heartfelt, sincere conversions — is rising in a time when, frankly, everything around us feels like it’s falling apart.

And what’s even more beautiful?

This moment isn’t only for the new converts.

It’s for us, too — the cradle Catholics who may finally be waking up to the treasure we’ve had all along.

So let’s walk through this together: what’s happening, why it’s happening, how God has done this before, and what it all means for you and me.

The Spark at Notre Dame — A Hint of the Fire Spreading Everywhere

Students at Notre Dame didn’t convert because it was trendy or expected. Quite the opposite. They converted because they met Catholics who were alive — Catholics who prayed together, went to adoration, talked openly about Christ, and lived their faith with a quiet steadiness.

They saw something real.
Something beautiful.
Something sturdy.

And that “spark” at Notre Dame is part of a much bigger fire.

The Global Surge: A Wave You Can’t Ignore

Let’s talk numbers for a moment — because they tell a story all by themselves.

In the United States

Dioceses everywhere are seeing dramatic increases:
Fort Worth up 72%, Cleveland up 50%, Marquette up almost 70%, Los Angeles welcoming over 5,000 new Catholics in a single Easter season.

In Europe

France reported more than 10,000 adult baptisms last Easter — a 45% jump — and almost half were ages 18–25.
Ireland recorded its strongest numbers in years.
The U.K. saw Catholic young-adult Mass attendance outpace Anglican attendance in many areas.
Austria saw an 85% rise in adult baptisms.
Belgium nearly doubled its numbers.

Beyond the West

Canada and even Mongolia are seeing growth.
Sub-Saharan Africa — in one of the most stunning shifts in history — grew from about 9 million Christians in 1900 to over 350 million today.
India is blooming quietly.
China is growing underground despite persecution.

This is not nostalgia.

This is happening right now.

And if you listen to the stories of these new converts across continents, they sound surprisingly familiar.

Why Now? What People Are Really Looking For?

So why this surge?
What’s driving it?

Honestly… it’s not complicated.

People are tired.
Tired of moral confusion.
Tired of constant noise.
Tired of feeling lost in a world that promises everything yet gives nothing.
Tired of being told that truth doesn’t exist, that identity is self-invented, and that life has no deeper meaning.

And somewhere deep inside — deeper than ideology, deeper than politics, deeper than culture — the soul starts whispering:

“There has to be more than this.”

And yes… there is.

St. Augustine said it best, more than 1,600 years ago:

“Our hearts are restless until they rest in You.”

People today feel that restlessness in their bones.

And they’re following it back to God.

This Isn’t New: Every Time the World Goes Dark, God Lights a Way

When you look across history, you realize something comforting:

This is how God moves.

When the world slides into chaos, the Spirit stirs hearts awake.

The Early Church

Under Roman persecution, Christianity spread explosively.
Tertullian famously wrote:

“The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.”

St. Cyprian added:

“The Church shines brightest in times of trouble.”

And St. John Chrysostom wrote a line that could have been written today:

“When all seems lost, the Church lights the path.”

The Medieval Waves — Including the Vikings

After Rome collapsed, entire cultures came into the Church.
Yes, even the Vikings.

And one of the first was Rollo — a name that means even more if you’re connected to him by blood like I am.

Rollo’s Conversion: One Man, One Baptism, One New People

Rollo was a fierce Viking leader who raided the coasts of France with terrifying success. But in 911, something unexpected happened: King Charles the Simple made peace instead of war.

Through the Treaty of Saint-Claire-sur-Epte, Rollo agreed to stop raiding, defend northern France, and — incredibly — accept baptism.

He was baptized as Robert.

A Norman legend says Rollo refused to kiss the king’s foot — and when one of his warriors forced the king’s leg up, the poor man fell over backward. But despite the legendary stubbornness, Rollo’s conversion was real.

And it mattered.

His descendants, the Normans, became some of the Church’s greatest builders — founding monasteries, building cathedrals, spreading Christianity through Europe.

One man’s conversion became a turning point for an entire people.

The Americas — The Miracle of Guadalupe

Then came 1531.

Our Lady appeared to St. Juan Diego, left her miraculous image on the tilma, and within ten years more than 8 million people entered the Church.

One missionary wrote:

“They come in waves… asking for the water that gives life.”

A spiritual tidal wave.

So What Does This Mean for Us Cradle Catholics?

A lot of us grew up Catholic without ever really being discipled.
We knew the prayers but maybe not the Person.
We knew the rules but maybe not the reason.
We had the sacraments but maybe not the fire.

But this moment… this global surge… it’s doing something.

It’s waking us up.

It’s reminding us who we are.
It’s inviting us to rediscover — not just accept — our faith.

We don’t need to become theologians.
We don’t need to know every answer.
We don’t need to pretend to be perfect.

We just need to become willing.

Willing to pray.
Willing to learn.
Willing to let God rekindle what might have grown dim.

Let’s start with prayer.

🙏 A Prayer for the Renewal of Faith

Heavenly Father,
You have carried me since the day I was baptized,
even when I did not notice You walking beside me.

Today I ask You to renew my faith.
Awaken in me a deeper love for Your Church,
a hunger for the sacraments,
and a desire to walk closely with You.

Let the fire that burns in new converts ignite something in me as well.
Make my faith young again—steady, joyful, courageous, and alive.

Strengthen my trust,
heal what has grown cold,
and draw me into the heart of Your mercy.

Lord, I believe — help my unbelief.
Amen.

🙏 A Prayer for Cradle Catholics Discerning Becoming OCIA Sponsors

Holy Spirit,
You call ordinary people to walk with those
who are discovering the faith for the first time.

If it is Your will,
open my heart to serve as a companion and sponsor
for someone entering the Church.

Calm my fears about not knowing enough.
Remind me that You use willing hearts,
not perfect ones.

Help me to listen with patience,
encourage with kindness,
and witness with humility.

Let my presence strengthen the steps
of those seeking Christ —
and in walking with them,
renew my own love for the faith I was born into.

Come, Holy Spirit, lead me.
Amen.

A Final Word — And a Simple Invitation

If you’ve read this far, maybe God is stirring something in you, too.

Maybe the global surge — from Notre Dame to Paris to Nairobi to Mexico City — means something personal. Maybe this is your moment to reconnect, to rediscover, to reignite.

And if this reflection touched you, encouraged you, or made your heart warm even for a moment…

Please take a second to Like, Share, and Subscribe.

You never know who else might need these words —
another cradle Catholic, a seeker, a returning heart.

Let’s spread the flame.

Hashtags: #CatholicRenewal, #CradleCatholic, #OCIAJourney, #CatholicConversion, #FaithRevival, #HolySpiritAtWork, #CatholicChurch, #OurLadyOfGuadalupe, #StJuanDiego, #ReturnToTheFaith, #CatholicCommunity, #YoungCatholics, #EucharisticRevival, #CatholicBloggers, #ShareYourFaith

Does Revelation 17 Call the Catholic Church the “Great Whore”? Let’s Talk About It

by Keith Abell, RPh MI
Ad Majoram Dei Gloriam

Defending the Faith Against a Common Misinterpretation

Back in 1998, a fundamentalist tried to shake my faith and convince me to leave the Church. One of the questions he posed was this:

“When Revelation 17 talks about the great whore and the Church tells you they can't be talking about us, in whom do you put your trust?”

It’s a question designed to plant doubt. If you’ve never thought deeply about Revelation, it can sound scary. So let’s walk through this together—because the truth is far more beautiful than the accusation.

First Things First: Who Was Revelation Written To?

Revelation wasn’t written to Catholics in 2026. It was written around the end of the first century to seven real Christian communities in Asia Minor—Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea. These weren’t imaginary churches; they were vibrant communities struggling under persecution from the Roman Empire.

Why these seven? They were major hubs along a Roman postal route, making them strategic for communication. Each faced unique challenges—false teachings, complacency, outright persecution. And the number seven? In biblical symbolism, seven means completeness. So these churches represent the whole Church in every age.

So Who Is the “Great Whore”?

Here’s the big reveal: The “great whore” in Revelation 17 is not the Catholic Church. It’s a symbolic reference to imperial Rome—the empire that was persecuting Christians at the time.

How do we know?

• Revelation calls her “Babylon.” In the Old Testament, Babylon was the city of exile and oppression. For first-century Christians, Rome was the new Babylon.
• The text mentions “seven hills.” Rome was famously called the city on seven hills.
• The imagery of wealth, luxury, and corruption fits Rome’s imperial system perfectly.

Why All the Symbolism?

Because writing “Rome is evil” in the first century could get you killed. Revelation was written during Emperor Domitian’s reign, a time of brutal persecution. So John used apocalyptic language—a kind of spiritual code—to encourage Christians without putting them in greater danger. The message was clear: Rome’s power is temporary. God wins.

What Did the Early Church Fathers Say?

The earliest Christian writers—people like St. Irenaeus, St. Hippolytus, St. Jerome, and St. Augustine—all agreed: Babylon = Rome. They lived through persecution. They saw friends martyred. For them, Revelation was about hope in the face of imperial oppression, not a prophecy against the Church Christ founded.

Here are some direct quotes:

St. Irenaeus (Against Heresies, Book V):
“The name Babylon is a figure of speech, signifying the city of Rome, which reigns over the kings of the earth.”

St. Hippolytus (Commentary on Daniel and Revelation):
“What John saw was the city of Rome, the seat of empire, which is built upon seven hills.”

St. Jerome:
“When John speaks of Babylon, he means Rome, for Rome is the new Babylon in its pride and persecution.”

St. Augustine (City of God):
“Two cities have been formed by two loves: the earthly city by love of self, even to contempt of God; the heavenly city by love of God, even to contempt of self.”
(Here Augustine contrasts Rome—the earthly city—with the Church, the City of God.)

Fast Forward to the Reformation

During the 1500s, some Reformers started pointing to Revelation 17 and saying, “See? The whore of Babylon is the papacy!” Saints like Robert Bellarmine and Francis de Sales pushed back hard.

St. Robert Bellarmine:
“The Church is the Bride of Christ, holy and without blemish. To call her a harlot is blasphemy against Christ Himself.”

St. Francis de Sales (The Catholic Controversy):
“The marks of Babylon—idolatry, persecution, corruption—fit pagan Rome, not the Church which has always professed the true faith.”

The Council of Trent reaffirmed something essential: Scripture must be read in harmony with apostolic tradition, not twisted to fit personal agendas.

So, In Whom Do You Put Your Trust?

That’s the heart of the question, isn’t it? Do you trust biased interpretations that rip verses out of context? Or do you trust the God who gave us His Word and the Church He founded to safeguard it?

Revelation isn’t a weapon to use against Catholics. It’s a book of hope. It tells us that no matter how dark things look, Christ wins. The Church He built will endure—just as He promised.

A Short Prayer

Lord Jesus, You are the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. Strengthen our faith when doubts arise. Help us trust in Your Word and Your Church, and give us courage to share Your truth with love. Amen.

If this helped you see Revelation in a new light, please like, share, and subscribe so more Catholics can rediscover the beauty and truth of their faith. And don’t stop here—this is part of a whole series answering tough questions posed by a fundamentalist who tried to shake my faith. Start with the first question on the Sacraments and journey with me through the rest.

God bless you!

>Waking Up from Autopilot: A Cradle Catholic Reflection on the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

By Keith Abell, RPh MI
Ad Majoram Dei Gloriam

Hey there, fellow cradle Catholics! Yeah, you know who you are—the ones like me who’ve been going to Mass since before we could walk, reciting the Creed on autopilot while our minds wander to the grocery list or that work deadline. We’ve got the rituals down pat: Ash Wednesday ashes, Easter baskets, and those familiar Sunday readings that sometimes feel like background noise.

But what if I told you that today’s readings—for this Third Sunday in Ordinary Time on January 25, 2026—aren’t just ancient words? They’re like a wake-up call from God Himself, whispering (or maybe shouting) that our faith isn’t meant to be on cruise control. They’re a roadmap for turning the everyday “meh” of modern life into something vibrant, especially when the world around us feels a bit… dark.

I’m Keith, writing from right here in Louisville, Kentucky, where the winters can feel as gloomy as the challenges we face as families. Think about it: rising secularism, cultural pressures on our kids’ values, and even those internal Church debates that make us sigh and scroll past. But let’s dive into these readings together, shall we? I’ll weave in the historical vibes from the folks who wrote them and the early Church Fathers who lived them out. Spoiler: Their worlds weren’t so different from ours—oppression, division, and a call to step up. And by the end, we’ll see how this all clicks for us autopilot Catholics, wrapping up with a prayer, some easy action steps, and yeah, a nudge to hit that like button.

Waking Up to the Light in the Darkness: Isaiah’s Promise Hits Home

Okay, let’s start with that first reading from Isaiah 8:23–9:3. Picture this: Isaiah’s prophesying back in the 8th century BC, during a time when the northern kingdom of Israel was getting hammered by the Assyrian Empire. We’re talking invasions, deportations, and whole regions like Zebulun and Naphtali turned into ghost towns under foreign rule. That “seaward road”—the Via Maris—wasn’t just a path; it was a highway of heartache, controlled by outsiders, symbolizing how God’s people felt degraded, walking in “darkness” and “gloom.”

Isaiah himself was no stranger to tough times; he prophesied amid political chaos, calling out kings and people for straying from God, all while holding out hope for a turnaround.

Fast-forward to the early Church Fathers, who totally got this. Take Jerome, that scholarly guy from the 4th century who translated the Bible into Latin (yeah, the Vulgate we still reference). He lived through the fall of Rome—barbarian invasions, economic collapse, and a Church reeling from heresies. In his commentary on Isaiah, Jerome saw those degraded lands as a metaphor for the spiritual darkness of pagan Rome...

[Continuing with the full sections for Origen, Augustine, and application to today...]

For cradle Catholics today, that darkness might not be Assyrian armies or Roman lions, but it’s real: the secular tide washing over America... Isaiah’s promise? God’s not done with us. That light—Jesus—has already dawned, and it’s meant to glorify our own “degraded” spots... We can too—by letting that light wake us up.

Unity in the Chaos: Paul’s Wake-Up Call to Stop the Squabbles

Now, flip to the second reading from 1 Corinthians 1:10–13,17. Paul... is addressing a messed-up church in Corinth—a bustling port city full of wealth, diversity, and drama. Factions were forming: “I belong to Paul,” “I belong to Apollos,” like ancient cliques or today’s online echo chambers...

The early Fathers ran with this. John Chrysostom... Irenaeus... Ignatius of Antioch...

For cradle Catholics like us... Paul’s era of Corinthian chaos mirrors our secular America... We can shake off autopilot by fostering unity—starting small, like listening without judging or joining a parish group.

Following the Call: Matthew’s Galilee Moment for Everyday Disciples

Tying it all together is the Gospel from Matthew 4:12–23. Jesus hears about John’s arrest and heads to Galilee—that same “District of the Gentiles” from Isaiah... He preaches repentance, heals the sick, and calls ordinary guys like Peter and Andrew to drop their nets...

The Fathers loved this. Chrysostom... Hilary of Poitiers... Cyril of Alexandria...

Us? Cradle Catholics often feel like those fishermen—stuck in routines... In our Louisville lives or anywhere in America, it’s about waking up: Repentance isn’t just confession; it’s reorienting autopilot faith toward mission...

Pulling It All Together: From Autopilot to Alive in Faith

See how it connects? Isaiah’s historical gloom under Assyria parallels the Fathers’ Roman trials and our secular squeeze. Paul’s Corinthian divisions echo patristic heresies and our polarized world. Matthew’s Galilean call mirrors the prophets’ hope and the Fathers’ perseverance... For cradle Catholics, these readings say: Your lifelong faith isn’t meant to be dormant...

A Prayer for Today’s Catholic Families

Heavenly Father, You who brought light to the people in darkness, shine Your grace on us cradle Catholics and our families. Like Isaiah in turbulent times, help us see hope amid gloom. Like Paul and the early Fathers, unite us in Your love, smashing divisions. Like the disciples by the sea, call us off autopilot to follow Jesus anew. Bless our homes with joy, strength for secular storms, and eyes fixed on Your kingdom. Through Christ our Lord, Amen.

Simple Action Items to Spark That Hope

1. Family Reading Time: This week, read Isaiah 9:1-3 aloud at dinner. Ask: “Where’s our ‘darkness’ right now, and where’s the light?”
2. Unity Check: Reach out to a family member or parishioner you’ve disagreed with—coffee, no agenda, just listen.
3. Drop a Net: Pick one autopilot habit (e.g., rushed prayers) and replace it with something intentional, like a 5-minute Gospel reflection app.
4. Witness Walk: Share one way faith brings you joy this week—maybe on social media or with a friend.

There you have it, friends—let’s shake off the autopilot and live this faith like the giants before us. If this resonated, hit that like button, share with your Catholic crew, and subscribe for more chats on making ancient truths fresh. What’s one takeaway for you? Drop it in the comments—let’s build each other up!

When AI Fumbles Faith: My Frustrating Exchange with Microsoft Copilot on Catholic Mass Readings

By Keith, Louisville, Kentucky
Ad Majoram Dei Gloriam

I live by Ronald Reagan’s mantra: trust but verify. It’s guided me through decades of challenging powerful interests—from Big Pharma’s push for disease management over true wellness, to flawed nutritional science, and now, even AI tools handling sacred Catholic texts.

My background isn’t just theoretical. In my early days, I cut my teeth on computer programming, where the iron rule was “garbage in, garbage out.” Later, I spent decades building websites, blogs, and video blogs. As a pharmacist still in school, I launched one of the very first wellness sites promoting lifestyle changes, nutrition, and supplementation as alternatives to Big Pharma’s agenda. I’ve spoken out publicly—through websites, vlogs, radio appearances (including guest spots on KSCO Radio in Santa Cruz), speaking engagements, and podcasting—against medical misinformation from the medical-industrial complex.

That activism cost me. I was an early YouTube influencer earning income from my videos until I shared a radio interview titled “What Big Pharma Doesn’t Want You to Know.” In it, I highlighted how Ancel Keys’ seminal research on fats and cardiovascular disease was fatally flawed: Keys selectively published data supporting his hypothesis that saturated fats caused heart problems, while ignoring contradictory evidence showing no link. That exposure led to my channel’s demonetization.

On the faith side, marrying outside the Catholic Church brought sharp criticism from my wife’s family. As a cradle Catholic, I’d never encountered their objections before. This prompted deep study of the early Church Fathers to understand pre-Reformation teachings. When a fundamentalist later challenged me with 18 pointed questions aimed at shaking my faith, it only strengthened my resolve to seek truth rigorously.

A professor in pharmacy school taught me a vital framework for evaluating contradictory studies: When overwhelming evidence points one way but an outlier study disagrees, ask three questions—

1. Who sponsored it?
2. What do they stand to gain or lose?
3. What methods directed the outcome toward the desired result?

I apply this (along with “trust but verify”) to everything: Ancel Keys’ selective data, Covid-era dismissals of natural approaches in favor of vaccination mandates, and now AI responses on religious matters.

The Incident: Testing AI on Well-Known Readings

On January 21, 2026, I queried Microsoft Copilot (Copilot 365) to summarize the Catholic Mass readings for Sunday, January 25, 2026—the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A. I already knew them from official sources like the USCCB website, but I was using AI (as I do with multiple tools) to help organize thoughts for reflection or writing.

Copilot failed—five times in succession. Each response gave wildly different, incorrect readings, mixing cycles (A, B, C), weekday feasts, or prioritizing the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul (January 25) over Sunday liturgy, which always takes precedence.

I challenged it: “Explain why 5 times you gave incorrect information. These readings are well publicized by the Catholic Church. A simple Google search gives the correct answer?”

Copilot admitted errors: over-reliance on “internal knowledge” without verification, confusion over cycles and feast precedence, and failure to perform a live check. It finally provided the correct ones:

First Reading: Isaiah 8:23—9:3

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 27:1, 4, 13–14

Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 1:10–13, 17

Gospel: Matthew 4:12–23

Theme: Christ the Light Who Calls Us to Unity and Mission—Jesus fulfilling Isaiah’s prophecy of light in darkness, Paul urging unity, and the call to discipleship.

Pressing further, I noted that “stored liturgical patterns” and repeated failures sounded like deeper issues. Why didn’t it validate against authoritative sources? Grok and Google got it right immediately. Copilot insisted no agenda—just logic and verification mistakes.

My final reply: “Unfortunately I no longer trust that I am getting truthful answers.”

Broader Implications: Trust, Verification, and Technology

This wasn’t isolated. Like flawed studies on statins or saturated fats—often sponsored by interests favoring pharmaceuticals over nutrition—I approach AI outputs skeptically. Who “programs” or curates the training data? What biases or gaps exist? Why prioritize “internal knowledge” over real-time authoritative checks?

In faith matters, accuracy is non-negotiable. These readings speak of light overcoming darkness—a fitting metaphor for navigating unreliable tech. AI can assist in formulating ideas, but it demands verification against primary sources (USCCB, Vatican). Just as I’ve long urged cross-checking medical claims, I now urge the same for spiritual ones.

Technology serves faith and wellness, but never replaces discernment. For January 25, 2026, verify the readings yourself at the USCCB: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/012526.cfm. Trust—but always verify.

Keith is a Louisville, Kentucky resident, pharmacist, early web pioneer, wellness advocate, and lifelong Catholic who applies rigorous scrutiny to sources in medicine, nutrition, and faith.

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When Jesus said to test the spirits, for there are many false prophets in the world, and the Church tells you they can't be talking about us, in whom do you put your trust?

When Fundamentalist Questions Shake Your Faith: A Personal Reflection

by Keith Abell, RPh MI
Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam

This isn’t just theory for me—it’s personal. Back in 1998, a fundamentalist handed me a list of eighteen questions designed to shake my Catholic faith. One of them still echoes in my mind:

“When Jesus said to test the spirits, for there are many false prophets in the world, and the Church tells you they can't be talking about us, in whom do you put your trust?”

At first glance, that question sounds reasonable—even biblical. But underneath it lies a challenge: do you trust your own interpretation of Scripture, or the authority of the Church Christ founded?

The temptation to say, “Just me and my Bible” is strong. It sounds noble: I’ll read the Bible and let the Holy Spirit guide me. But here’s the problem—there are thousands of denominations, all claiming the same Spirit, yet teaching contradictory doctrines. Scripture itself warns against division and distortion. And let’s not forget, even Satan quoted Scripture to tempt Jesus in the wilderness. Knowing verses isn’t enough; interpretation matters.

So how do we know our interpretation isn’t guided by pride—or worse, by the enemy—rather than the Holy Spirit? The truth is, God never intended faith to be a solo project. The Bible gives us clues. Paul tells the Thessalonians to hold fast to the traditions they were taught, whether by word or letter. He calls the Church the pillar and foundation of truth. And when disputes arose in the early Church, the apostles didn’t say, “Figure it out yourself.” They gathered in council. From the beginning, faith was communal, safeguarded by apostolic teaching and the Holy Spirit. That’s why the Catholic Church insists on Scripture and Tradition, interpreted by the Magisterium.

This is why I trust the Catholic Church. Christ gave His guarantee when He told Peter, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” That’s not just poetry—that’s a divine promise. For two thousand years, through councils and crises, the Church has preserved the core truths of the faith. And when I look back at history, I see consistency. The early Church Fathers—St. Irenaeus, St. Augustine, St. Vincent of Lérins—warned against private interpretation and upheld apostolic tradition. Augustine even said, “I would not believe the Gospel unless the authority of the Catholic Church moved me.”

For me, this isn’t just history—it’s family. Blessed Thomas Abell, a distant relative of mine, gave his life defending these truths during Henry VIII’s break from Rome. In his treatise Invicta Veritas, Abell argued that marriage is a sacrament governed by divine law, not royal convenience. He insisted that Scripture must be read within the Church’s tradition, not twisted for personal gain. When Henry declared himself head of the Church, Abell refused to bow. For that, he was executed in 1540. His martyrdom reminds me that truth isn’t determined by power or popularity—it’s safeguarded by the Church Christ promised would never fall.

History warns us what happens when private interpretation becomes the rule. During the Protestant Reformation, saints like Robert Bellarmine and Francis de Sales pleaded for unity, warning that rejecting the Church’s authority would lead to chaos. Today, we see the fruit: thousands of denominations, each claiming to be “Bible-based,” yet divided on core doctrines. Contrast that with the Catholic Church: one faith, one baptism, one Eucharist—unchanged in essence for two millennia.

So, in whom do I put my trust? Not in my own cleverness. Not in a preacher’s opinion. I trust Christ’s promise to Peter. I trust the Holy Spirit’s guidance of the Magisterium. I trust the witness of saints and martyrs, like my own ancestor, Blessed Thomas Abell. Because faith isn’t a solo project. It’s a gift, lived in communion with the Church Christ founded.

If you’re a cradle Catholic and someone tries to shake your faith with clever questions, remember this: the early Church Fathers stood where you stand. The saints defended what you believe. And Christ Himself guaranteed that the gates of hell will never prevail against His Church.

Concluding Prayer

Lord Jesus Christ,
You promised that the gates of hell would never prevail against Your Church. We thank You for the gift of faith, handed down through the apostles and safeguarded by the Magisterium. We honor the witness of saints and martyrs—like Blessed Thomas Abell—who stood firm in truth even unto death. Strengthen us to hold fast to Scripture and Tradition, to remain faithful in times of doubt, and to trust in Your promise that You are with us always, even to the end of the age. May the Holy Spirit guide us into all truth and keep us united in Your one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church.
Amen.

If this reflection spoke to your heart, please like, share, and follow so others can be encouraged in their faith.

And stay tuned for the next post in this series:
#13 – When Revelation 17 talks about the Great Whore: What does it really mean?

Let’s keep the conversation going and stand firm together in the truth Christ entrusted to His Church!

Do Catholics Worship Statues?

Do Catholics Worship Statues? The Truth About Graven Images That Every Cradle Catholic Needs to Know

“When the Church tells you it’s OK to make graven images, statues, and idols and proudly display them in your churches and homes, and when God commanded you not to do so, in whom do you put your trust?”

Welcome back to our 20-part series, “In Whom Do You Put Your Trust?” These posts are inspired by real questions from a fundamentalist who tried to shake my faith as a cradle Catholic. Like many of us, I grew up Catholic but never really dug into the foundations of what we believe. When these questions came, I realized I needed answers—not just for myself, but for other cradle Catholics who might face the same challenges from friends or family outside the Church.

Today we tackle Question 11, and it’s a big one: “Doesn’t the Bible say not to make graven images? So why do Catholics have statues, medals, and relics?”

If you’ve ever been confronted with this, you know how uncomfortable it can feel. Let’s walk through this together.

The Commandment in Question

Exodus 20:4–5 says, “You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God.”

Our Protestant brothers and sisters often quote this to us. And honestly? At first glance, it sounds like Catholics are breaking this commandment every time we put a statue in a church. But here’s the key: the commandment is about worship, not art. God forbids making idols and bowing down to them as if they were gods. The sin isn’t in making an image—it’s in worshiping it.

God Himself Commanded Images

Here’s something fascinating: right after giving the Ten Commandments, God tells Moses to make golden cherubim for the Ark of the Covenant (Exodus 25:18–22). He even commands that their images be woven into the tabernacle curtains (Exodus 26:1, 31). Later, in Numbers 21:8–9, God instructs Moses to make a bronze serpent that heals anyone who looks at it. If making any image were sinful, these commands would contradict His own law!

King Solomon also decorated the Temple with images of cherubim, lions, oxen, and palm trees (1 Kings 6–7). Clearly, the problem isn’t the existence of an image—it’s worshiping that image as if it were divine.

God Can Use Material Things as Instruments of Grace

This isn’t just an Old Testament thing. Throughout Scripture, God uses physical objects to convey His power:

• Numbers 21:8–9 – The Bronze Serpent
  The Israelites were dying from snake bites. God didn’t just say, “Pray.” He told Moses to make a bronze serpent and put it on a pole. Whoever looked at it lived. The healing came from God, but He chose to work through a physical object.
• 2 Kings 13:20–21 – Elisha’s Bones
  A dead man was thrown into Elisha’s grave. When his body touched Elisha’s bones, he came back to life. God’s power worked through the prophet’s remains.
• Acts 19:11–12 – Paul’s Handkerchiefs and Aprons
  People took cloths that had touched Paul and laid them on the sick. Diseases left them, and evil spirits fled. The power wasn’t in the fabric—it was in God.
• Acts 5:15–16 – Peter’s Shadow
  People lined the streets so Peter’s shadow might fall on them. And they were healed! If God can work through a shadow, He can certainly work through a medal or a relic.

These examples show that God is not limited. He can use material things as channels of grace. The danger isn’t in the object—it’s in forgetting that the power comes from God alone.

Why Catholics Use Statues and Sacramentals

Catholics use statues, medals, and relics—called sacramentals—as reminders of God and His saints. They’re not magic charms, and they’re certainly not gods. They help us focus on prayer and holiness. When you see a crucifix, it reminds you of Christ’s sacrifice. When you wear a medal of a saint, it reminds you of their example of faith. These objects point us toward God, not away from Him.

Unfortunately, some people misunderstand this and accuse Catholics of idolatry. But the Church is clear: worship belongs to God alone. Sacramentals are tools, not substitutes for God.

What the Early Church Fathers Really Said About Images and Sacramentals

The early Christians weren’t living in a vacuum—they were surrounded by Roman temples filled with statues of pagan gods. Idolatry was everywhere. So, what did the Fathers say?

• Tertullian (c. 160–220): Called idolatry “the chief crime of humanity,” condemning worship, not art.
• St. Augustine (354–430): “We do not worship images as gods… The honor given to the image passes to its prototype.”
• St. John of Damascus (c. 675–749): “I do not worship matter; I worship the Creator of matter who became matter for my sake… I honor all matter through which salvation came to me.”
• St. Cyril of Jerusalem (c. 313–386): Encouraged bold use of the sign of the cross as a seal of faith.
• St. Ambrose (c. 340–397): “We love the martyrs… We do not adore them, but we venerate their memory.”

The Fathers were united: Idolatry forbidden. Images and sacramentals permitted when they lead to God. Worship to God alone.

The Heart of the Matter

The commandment warns against idolatry—placing anything before God. Making an image is not the sin. Worshiping that image as if it were God is the sin. Our trust must always remain in Him alone.

So, in whom do you put your trust? Not in statues, medals, or relics—but in the living God who sometimes chooses to work through them. Our faith is in Him, and Him alone.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the gift of faith and the reminders You give us through sacramentals. May the crucifix on our wall, the rosary in our hands, and the medal around our neck never become objects of worship, but tools to draw us closer to You. Help us to honor Your saints as examples of holiness and to keep our hearts fixed on You alone.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Join the Conversation

What do you think about this question? Have you ever been challenged on the use of statues or medals? Share your thoughts in the comments below—I’d love to hear your experiences.

If this post helped you, please like, share, and subscribe so more Catholics can grow confident in their faith. And stay tuned for Question 12, where we tackle another tough claim, “The Catholic Church is a false prophet.”

You won’t want to miss it!

When the Church tells you that priests are another Christ, and the Bible teaches that there is one Christ, in whom do you put your trust?

One Christ, One Truth: Clearing the Confusion About Priesthood
In Whom Do You Put Your Trust? – Post 10

The question—“When the Church tells you that priests are another Christ, and the Bible teaches that there is one Christ, in whom do you put your trust?”—has echoed through centuries of Christian debate.

In 1998, I faced this challenge from a fundamentalist who posed 18 questions challenging my faith in the Catholic Church, and my response remains relevant today. Let’s explore why the Catholic understanding of priesthood does not contradict Scripture but rather flows from it.

The concern arises from misunderstanding the phrase “in persona Christi”—Latin for “in the person of Christ.” The Church teaches that priests act in this capacity when administering the Sacraments. This does not mean priests are Christ Himself or that there are “many Christs.” Instead, it means Christ works through His ministers, making His grace present in tangible ways.

Scriptural Foundation

• John 20:21-23 – “As the Father has sent me, so I send you… Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them.”
  Christ delegates His authority to the Apostles, who in turn pass it on through ordination.
• 2 Corinthians 5:20 – “We are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us.”
  An ambassador represents but does not replace the one who sends them.
• Luke 22:19 – “Do this in memory of me.”
  The Eucharistic command entrusts priests with making Christ sacramentally present.

Catechism of the Catholic Church

• CCC 1548 – “In the ecclesial service of the ordained minister, it is Christ himself who is present to his Church as Head of his Body, Shepherd of his flock, High Priest of the redemptive sacrifice.”
  The priest acts in persona Christi Capitis—in the person of Christ the Head.
• CCC 1550 – “This presence of Christ in the minister is not to be understood as if the latter were preserved from all human weaknesses.”
  Our trust is in Christ, not in the perfection of His ministers.

Early Church Fathers – Historical Context

The early centuries of Christianity were marked by persecution, doctrinal development, and the need for clear leadership. Bishops and priests were seen as essential for maintaining unity and transmitting apostolic teaching.

• St. Ignatius of Antioch (c. 107 AD)
  “Let everyone respect the deacons as Jesus Christ, and the bishop as the image of the Father.” (Letter to the Trallians)
  Ignatius emphasized the bishop’s role as a safeguard against division, not as a rival to Christ.
• St. John Chrysostom (4th century)
  “The priest stands there, not in his own name, but in Christ’s.” (On the Priesthood)
  Chrysostom saw priests as instruments of divine grace during a time of doctrinal clarity.
• St. Augustine (354–430)
  “When Peter baptizes, it is Christ who baptizes.” (On Baptism, Against the Donatists)
  Augustine affirmed that sacraments derive their power from Christ, not the minister—a truth that remains central today.

The Protestant Reformation – Historical Context

The 16th century brought seismic shifts in Christian thought. Reformers challenged abuses and questioned sacramental theology, but even they recognized the need for pastoral leadership.

• Martin Luther (1483–1546)
  “We are all priests before God, but not all have the same office.”
• John Calvin (1509–1564)
  Calvin described pastors as “ambassadors of Christ,” echoing 2 Corinthians 5:20.

Catholic Saints During the Reformation

• St. Teresa of Ávila (1515–1582)
  “We must always keep in mind that the Lord Himself has given great power to priests… even if they are not holy, the Lord will still fulfill His word through them.”
• St. John of the Cross (1542–1591)
  “Through the ministry of priests, God communicates His grace and forgiveness.”
• St. Francis de Sales (1567–1622)
  “The priest is not another Christ in essence, but he bears Christ’s authority in the sacraments.”
• St. Robert Bellarmine (1542–1621)
  “Christ instituted the priesthood so that His work might continue visibly in the Church.”

The priesthood is a sacramental sign—a visible instrument through which Christ acts. Just as water in Baptism conveys grace, so the priest’s words and actions in the Eucharist and Reconciliation make Christ’s saving work present. There is one Christ, but His ministry continues through His Body, the Church.

So, in whom do we put our trust? Not in human frailty, but in Christ who works through His Church. The priest is not “another Christ” but a living sign pointing us to the One Savior. Our faith rests in Jesus Christ, who promised, “I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

A Prayer for Priests

Lord Jesus Christ, Eternal High Priest,
Bless Your priests with holiness and strength.

May they always act in Your name and bring Your grace to the world.

Protect them from discouragement and renew their hearts with zeal for souls.

Through their ministry, may Your love shine forth and lead many to salvation.

Amen.

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Read the other posts in the “In Whom Do You Put Your Trust?” series for more insights into faith, Scripture, and Catholic teaching.