Sr. Kathryn J Hermes, FSP

The Kingdom of God Takes Root in the Darkness (Luke 9:7-9)

Published on September 25, 2025August 3, 2024 by Sr. Kathryn J Hermes, FSPLeave a comment

Now Herod the ruler heard about all that had taken place, and he was perplexed, because it was said by some that John had been raised from the dead, by some that Elijah had appeared, and by others that one of the ancient prophets had arisen. Herod said, “John I beheaded; but who is this about whom I hear such things?” And he tried to see him.
Luke 9:7-9

I would love to have been a fly on the wall of the inner rooms of Herod’s palace as he tried to make sense of the coming of the Kingdom and the joy it was bringing to the people whom he ruled. Directly before this passage, Luke describes the apostles being sent by Jesus with power and authority to drive out demons and cure diseases and heal the sick. In the days following this sending out of Jesus’ followers, reports began streaming in from all parts of Herod’s jurisdiction that people are being healed, devils are being driven out, joy is reaching fever-pitch as the people recognize the presence of the Kingdom of God dethroning the powers that held the world in their grasp.

The good news was changing the culture right under Herod’s nose, and he knew nothing about what was going on. “What’s going on? Who are these people?”

This, friends, is what the Church is in today’s society. As the Israel of biblical times, we in these times between the first and the second coming of Christ suffer oppression, marginalization, misunderstanding. Unbelief is in the very air we breathe. We experience the virulence of a non-Christian religious environment that leaves God entirely out of the picture. We carry the weight and the burden of accusations that our beliefs and values are useless at best and destructive at worst.

Jesus did not send his apostles out to overthrow Herod or to start covert operations against the tax collectors oppressing the people or to begin a political movement. Jesus has a different strategy here. He sent his disciples then and he charges us today to go and announce the good news of Christ has come as a light into the darkness of a fallen world.

When we are faithful we, like the disciples, see God at work in our own lives and we know the joy of seeing fellow captives set free. We have the privilege to gather others into the heavenly society of God’s Church through baptism which will open to them the door through the sacraments to the eternal banquet of heaven. As we spiritually accompany people into the Kingdom, one by one, we see on their faces the joy of finally knowing the ecstasy of realizing they are seen and loved by Jesus who has given his life for them and who feeds them in the Eucharist.

The disciples did their “job” so well, that the news made it to Herod’s palace and made him nervous. Someone was satisfying the hearts of the people in his jurisdiction and setting them free, despite his oppressive policies. He no longer had power over them. He had no idea of who it was that was at the bottom of all this truly “subversive” activity, but something about it made him curious to know who it might be.

As we proclaim the good news to others, as we heal the sick of heart and uplift the sorrowful, as we bring people to the Eucharist and help them find the mercy of Jesus, their will be a growing fever-pitch of joy in society. As others see the radiance on the faces of those we have awakened with the good news, they too will want to see who is at the root of this truly “subversive” activity, as the Kingdom of God takes root directly within the darkness of those who, often without knowing it, are still yearning for communion with the God who made them.

Image Credit: Daderot., Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Praying with this Passage of Scripture

Lectio Divina is a way of listening to God as he speaks in his Word. It is a practice of communicating with God through Scripture and attending to God’s presence and what he wishes to tell us. In this slow and prayerful reading of the Word of God, we allow ourselves to be transformed by the Spirit who forms us into the image of Christ. There are four movements in Lectio Divina: Read (lectio), Meditate (meditation), Pray (oratio), Contemplate (contemplation).

Begin by finding a still space to pray. Breathe deeply and become quieter within. Abandon any agenda, worries or thoughts you bring to this prayer and entrust these things to the merciful care of God. Ask for the grace to be receptive to what God will speak to you through this Scripture reading. Grant me, Jesus Divine Master, to be able to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God and your unfathomable riches. Grant that your word penetrate my soul; guide my steps, and brighten my way till the day dawns and darkness dissipates, you who live and reign forever and ever Amen.

Read (lectio)
Begin by slowly and meditatively reading your Scripture passage out loud. Listen for a particular word or phrase that speaks to you at this moment and sit with it for a time.

Pray (oratio)
Read the text a third time. Listen for what God is saying to you. Speak heart to heart with God. Notice the feelings that this conversation with God raises up within you. Share with God what you notice about your response to this conversation. You may wish to return to repeating the phrase quietly and gently, allowing it to permeate you more and more deeply.

Contemplate (contemplatio)
Read the text a final time. Now be still and rest in God’s embrace. Ask God to give you a gift to take with you from this prayer. You might ask God if he is inviting you to do some action, for instance, make some change in your thoughts, attitudes or reactions, in the way you speak or how you treat others. Thank God for this gift and invitation as you conclude your prayer.

Image: Myriams-Fotos; pixabay.com

Quieting the Heart: Listening to the Lord

Published on September 7, 2025September 4, 2025 by Sr. Kathryn J Hermes, FSPLeave a comment

Just a quick announcement:

On Monday, September 15, at 8 PM EST / 7 CT, we will gather together on Zoom for LECTIO CATOLICA, and we hope you can join us! The theme of our Sacred Reading will be Quieting the Heart: Listening to the Lord.

We sisters absolutely love these gatherings for prayer and life sharing! Jesus wanted us to walk together through the journey of life…not only with him, but with each other too. Listening to someone’s story and sharing our own inspirations strengthens our faith and renews our courage. We hope you join us on Monday evening, September 15, at 8 pm ET / 7 pm CT. You can register for reminder emails and links here.

Take a deep breath!

Published on September 1, 2025 by Sr. Kathryn J Hermes, FSP1 Comment

September—the month where the summer’s lush fullness is traded for autumn’s sharp clarity. When restless winds tug at the trees, reminding us that the vibrant colors of the fall are around the corner. School starts and summer’s freedom is replaced by the challenge and excitement of new things to learn, to explore, to become. Vacation months give our spirits a bit of space to breathe more deeply, before we pick up again the weight and concern of burdens of a world that feels turbulent and stretched thin.

We can’t forget how to breathe.

We can’t forget that we’re standing right in the middle of God’s great story.

The apostles—not unlike us—felt nervous and frightened and frustrated, when they weren’t able to see beyond their own strength, their own solutions to problems, their own abilities, and what they had at hand. Whether they were trying to figure out how to feed five thousand people with five loaves of bread, or straining to pull the oars in the midst of a storm that struck terror in their hearts, Jesus helped them gently learn: You cannot do it alone. Without me you can do nothing. I am here. I love you. And I will take care of you. And I will provide for you. And I will protect you.

That’s been sitting with me. The apostles couldn’t fix the hunger of the crowd, and they couldn’t calm the storm at sea. And I realize: I can’t fix my family, our culture, or the world. Neither can you. But we can turn to Jesus, who is Life itself, and who meets us with abundance when we’ve reached our limits.

The saints remind us that the quality of our days isn’t determined by the times we live in, but by the way we live them. Or as Pope Leo recently said, quoting St. Augustine, “Let us live well and the times will be good. We are the times.”

I believe this is a moment of awakening—a time to choose joy, to walk in holiness, and to let Christ’s light shine through us. These are hopeful times, because Christ is with us. To be Catholic right now means carrying him into the world, not with our own strength, but with his life flowing through us.

So don’t forget how to breathe as the pace picks up in these weeks.

Sr Kathryn

We Are Being Transformed from Glory to Glory (Lke 9:28b-36)

Published on August 6, 2025August 3, 2024 by Sr. Kathryn J Hermes, FSPLeave a comment

Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah”—not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
Luke 9:28b-36

The nearest experience I have had of “transfiguration” was the first evening at the Eucharistic Congress last year in Indianapolis, Indiana in the US. I was one of the last ones to arrive at Lucas Oil Stadium and slipped into a seat on an upper level just as exposition of the Blessed Sacrament was beginning. The entire stadium was in darkness, and silence had settled on the minds and hearts of everyone as we turned our gaze to the altar. The only lights in the stadium were directed to the center of the stadium where Jesus was exposed in the Blessed Sacrament. 50,000 voices quietly began to sing reverently, O Salutaris Hostia.

All of us that night felt surrounded by the hosts of heaven as we adored the King of kings and the Lord of the universe. On our knees, like Peter, James, and John, we were overwhelmed by God’s glory. (Although I certainly had no inclination to build a tent there in the Stadium!)

That night I was given just the tiniest of glimpses of the potential for the restoration and transfiguration of the entire world in Christ. I can’t remember that evening, or re-live it by watching it on YouTube, or re-enter it as I receive Holy Communion at Mass on any given day without tears of joy.

In the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor, we see Christ’s human nature filled with splendor. What has happened to the human nature in Christ can happen also to our human nature as his followers. The glory that shown on the face of Christ shows us the glory which, by God’s grace, will transform our fallen human nature, restoring its original glory. As Christ’s disciples, we have the potential of participating in the glory of Christ’s Transfiguration.

Each time we participate in the Mass, we enter into the dimension of glory. Each sacramental encounter continues the mystery of the Transfiguration. Through the sacraments we venture into eternity. We discover ourselves and our world transformed by the gift of Jesus’ love and mercy. Through baptism we are radically transformed into a new creation. Through the sacrament of Reconciliation we are restored to life when we have been wounded by sin. Through the Eucharist we are united to Christ, take our place at the banquet of the Lamb, and get a glimpse of what awaits us in the life to come.

Every day, as we behold the Transfigured Christ in prayer and sacrament, we are gradually transformed, as Saint Paul said, “All of us, gazing with unveiled face on the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory” (2 Cor 3:18).

Image Credit: Titian, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Praying with this Passage of Scripture

Image: Myriams-Fotos; pixabay.com

Photo by Mohan Nannapaneni: https://www.pexels.com/photo/brown-bird-on-brown-nest-6959441/

Being the Child God Made You: Like the Little Sparrows

Published on July 27, 2025June 20, 2025 by Sr. Kathryn J Hermes, FSP1 Comment

Sparrows, in the biblical sense, are birds of freedom. Israel has long been a home for sparrows; the earliest fossil remnants of house sparrows anywhere in the world were found in Israel in caves in the Carmel Mountain range near Haifa and also in caves near Bethlehem, just to the South of Jerusalem.

Sparrows don’t live in deserts or deserted places and they don’t migrate. Instead they plaster mud nests in the Temple eves near the altar. They are swift in flight and it is impossible to retain them in captivity. Sparrows are songbirds and utter a sweet, slow note that is pleasing to the ear (contrasted with the harsh and incessant chatter of other birds in biblical times such as the swift).

O Lord my God, my heart and soul, like the sparrow, cry out for you! (see Psalm 84)

Most likely we rarely pay attention to the common sparrow. Birds with more flashy colors and extravagant markings are more likely to be photographed and shared. Yet Jesus chose the sparrow, not the parrot or the ostrich or the blue jay, to convince us that God will take good care of us:

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father’s will. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows” (Mt 10:30-31).

As children, my sister and brother and I loved watching a nest full of newly hatched chicks. Whenever my mother discovered one she would call us over to carefully peek inside. Newly hatched songbirds are blind, featherless, and helpless. Immediately after hatching, these types of birds can do little more than open their mouths to beg for food. The hungrier they are the louder they cry and the more they open up their beaks. For the first two to three weeks of life they remain in the nest and the parents feed them every fifteen minutes during the day. At first the chicks cannot control their own body temperature and must be constantly kept warm by their parents. While the mother and father are searching for food and flitting back and forth to their nest, they are also watching for predators. As the newly hatched chicks eat almost constantly during the day for the first ten days or so their growth rate is incredible.

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father’s will. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”

“Acknowledge your hunger and cry out to the Lord…”

You’ve probably seen nests packed tightly with baby chicks, their heads held up high, cheeping loudly, with their mouth open as wide as possible, showing off the interior of their brightly colored mouth. The inside of a baby’s mouth is called a “gape,” and red, orange, yellow, and pink are common gape colors. The chick gaping with a wide-open beak and the high-contrast colors trigger something in the parents who are biologically wired to put food into gaping mouths. The hungrier the baby birds are, the more enthusiastically they beg for food, and they don’t stop cheeping until they are full and satisfied. The parents only stop feeding the chicks when all of them are sitting quietly in the nest at the end of the day.

These days I live in a convent in a city, so birds’ nests are not something I ever see. But I do build my own “nest,” so to speak, near the altar of the Lord of hosts, in the convent chapel. There is the place where we can all open our mouths and tell the Lord of our hunger to know him, our hunger for life, our hunger for eternity. Like the baby birds, I am learning to never stop begging to be fed.

How lovely is your dwelling place,
    O Lord of hosts!
My soul longs, indeed it faints
    for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh sing for joy
    to the living God.

Even the sparrow finds a home,
    and the swallow a nest for herself,
    where she may lay her young,
at your altars, O Lord of hosts,
    my King and my God.
Happy are those who live in your house,
    ever singing your praise (Psalm 84:1-4).

One thing that will help you become the Child you are…

God has made us for himself. He is providing for us, nourishing us, protecting us, warming us, delighting us… As long as we keep our hearts open, begging for him and his life, we will receive all he is giving us.

What gets in the way of this inbuilt hunger for God? For each of us there would be a different list. One of the habits in the following list might be on yours: hours of scrolling through social media feeds, trying to do what only God can do, attempting to change people around you instead of changing yourself, numbing habits, grasping for empty fillers like higher salaries, success, possessions, status… When we are satisfied with what can never satisfy us….

One thing we can do to increase our hunger for God is to avoid these ultimately unsatisfactory fillers and meditate instead on these famous words of St. Augustine who said:

“You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.

“Who will grant it to me to find peace in you? Who will grant me this grace, that you should come into my heart and inebriate it, enabling me to forget the evils that beset me and embrace you, my only good? What are you to me? Have mercy on me, so that I may tell. What indeed am I to you, that you should command me to love you, and grow angry with me if I do not, and threaten me with enormous woes? Is not the failure to love you woe enough in itself?

Alas for me! Through your own merciful dealings with me, O Lord my God, tell me what you are to me. Say to my soul, I am your salvation. Say it so that I can hear it. My heart is listening, Lord; open the ears of my heart and say to my soul, I am your salvation. Let me run towards this voice and seize hold of you. Do not hide your face from me: let me die so that I may see it, for not to see it would be death to me indeed.”

St. Augustine’s Confessions (Lib 1,1-2,2.5,5: CSEL 33, 1-5)

Image credit: Photo by Mohan Nannapaneni

“Like a little child, I keep myself”: Retreat Reflection

Published on July 25, 2025 by Sr. Kathryn J Hermes, FSPLeave a comment

I was building a sandcastle.

Jesus was running along the beach, throwing sand up into the air.

I was serious.

Jesus was laughing.

I was facing away from the ocean and the sunshine, busy with my project in the sand, my face in shadow.

Jesus gazed into the horizon, his face lit by the sun, as he sat in awe at the edge of the water.

Retreat always begins with a “before,” and ends with an “after.”

In my inspired imagination, as I prayed on the first day of my 8-day annual retreat this year, Jesus showed me that my “before”—my approach to life as a responsible and serious project-conscious adult—was no longer satisfying me. And he showed me in prayer that what he wanted for me was “delight,” his way of both delighting in the Father’s love for him and knowing that he was the delight of his Father.

In Psalm 131 there is this lovely line in the Jerusalem Bible translation: “Like a little child, so I keep myself.”

As I watched the ocean gently wash away the cares of the very important work of creating my sandcastle, Jesus helped me to feel on every level of my being what I have been created for: to be a child of the Father, as he himself is the Child of the Father. In fact, Jesus’ urging us to lay aside our self-importance to become like little children is rooted in his very way of life. Jesus wanted me to feel what he felt going about his life on this earth, what he felt in prayer on the mountains, connecting with his Father, indeed, what he feels before the Father for all eternity.

Hans Urs von Balthasar wrote in the book Unless You Become Like a Child that as a grown man, Jesus never leaves the “bosom of the Father.” His identity is inseparable from his being a Child in the bosom of the Father. In one place in the book he imagines the child Jesus becoming conscious of the world around him … “When the Mother awakens him, the opening up of the whole horizon of reality is experienced not only as something holy but as the realization that in the depths of this opened fullness of being there radiates the personal Face of his Father, personally turned toward him.”

Jesus draws us in prayer to sit beside him as he gazes into the Face of his Father who is “personally turned toward him,” personally turned toward us. This is the one thing necessary, this sitting, this receiving, this allowing oneself to be seen, to be loved. It is this that Mary had discovered and Martha’s heart—and mine—still yearned to know.

There are many things in our lives that frighten us into hiding from love, that paralyze parts of us so that we are hesitant to open up to receive the welcoming smile of God and of others. Retreats are often the long stretch of quiet healing that make it possible for us to accept being loved.

After all, Jesus was showing me, isn’t that what a tiny child longs for, needs, depends on, and trusts in? No matter what has happened in our lives, the eternal Father’s love heals and holds us until we are warmed with the gaze of his Face and are confident in the strength of his tender care for us.

Jesus didn’t ask us to be smart, accomplished, successful, organized. Nowhere in the Gospel do we find him suggesting that anything depends on us alone, especially this very important work that we were invited to share: the salvation of the world. There is only an insistence on spiritual childhood, this transformation of heart and mind made possible through the grace of the Holy Spirit.

“The child has time to take time as it comes, one day at a time, calmly, without advance planning or greedy hoarding of time. Time to play, time to sleep. He knows nothing of appointment books in which every moment has already been sold in advance.” Instead, every moment “we should receive with gratitude the full cup that is handed to us … And only with time of this quality can the Christian find God in all things, just as Christ found the Father in all things.”

This is my “after,” the gift of my retreat, the first day of the rest of my life. This is the joy Jesus has desired for me to know, the delight that is now mine forever.

Image credit: Christ with Martha and Maria by Henryk Siemiradzki, 1886 via Wikimedia, in the public domain.