The church needs good catechists, who love Christ, live out the Gospel in their lives and courageously go to the margins of society to share the gift of faith with others, Pope Francis told catechists from around the world. "Let us follow him, imitate him in his dynamic of love, of going to others, and let's go out, open the doors, have the audacity to strike out new paths to proclaim the Gospel," he said in a recent talk that was both improvised and drawn from a text. Seated behind a large wooden desk facing his audience in the Vatican's Paul VI hall, the pope joked that he was going to make just three points, "like the old-time Jesuits used to do: one, two, three," he said to laughter. Many in the audience hall took notes, closely following the pope's words. Hundreds of catechists were in Rome for a three-day international congress hosted by the Pontifical Council for Promoting New Evangelization. The pope thanked them for their service to the church and said being a catechist isn't a job or a title, it's a vocation, an approach to life. Are you being a catechist for Christ? It doesn't have to be in a formal setting like a classroom or parish hall. You can catechize every day of your life. Talk to you friends, relatives and co-workers and tell them how Christ has changed your life. The gospel reading yesterday spoke of the sin of omission. Not doing anything is as bad as doing evil.
In the quiet, dusty corners of our hearts, we often harbor blueprint drafts of how we think our lives should unfold. We carefully map out our timelines, hoping for a smooth path, and it is only natural to feel a bit lost or weary when a sudden storm alters our course or a door we prayed would open remains closed. Yet, our Lord does not stand at a distance during these moments of uncertainty; He is a tender Shepherd who walks beside us, gently whispering, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope" ( Jeremiah 29:11). When our own plans crumble, it is not a sign that He has abandoned us, but rather an invitation to fold our hands, release our grip on the pen, and offer our own quiet fiat—letting Him guide us into green pastures we could never have found on our own. Placing our trust in His loving providence allows us to breathe deeply and find rest, even when the road ahead is shrouded in mist. E...