When I look at the state of the world today, my heart aches. The division in our politics, the hatred and bigotry that pour out in our communities, the cruelty of homelessness in the midst of abundance—it all weighs heavily on me. I see people judged for simply being different, excluded because they do not “fit into” someone else’s mold of worthiness, and it cuts deep into my soul.
I struggle because I know the pain of coming from traditions that did nothing to heal this suffering. In fact, too often, those traditions made the wounds worse. Instead of offering Christ’s mercy, they offered judgment. Instead of opening the doors of grace, they guarded them, deciding who was “in” and who was “out.” The Church, which should have been a hospital for the brokenhearted, became instead a fortress of exclusion. I saw the Sacraments used not as lifelines of God’s love but as weapons of control.
And I carry repentance for my part in that. For the times my own words, thoughts, or actions mirrored judgment rather than mercy. For the times I stayed silent when others were excluded. For the times I thought God’s love was something to be earned instead of something freely given. I am sorry. Truly.
My soul cries for the families who were denied the embrace of Christ because others acted as if they were the doorkeepers of salvation. I cry for those who were told they were unworthy of His love, when the truth is that His Sacred Heart has always burned for them. My soul cries for a world crushed under pain, hurt, hate, silence, and struggle.
But in the midst of that grief, I have found another way. In the Independent Sacramental Movement, I have found a home where the grace of Christ is not rationed out or fenced in. Here, the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary overflow with love for all people—without exception. Here, the saints are not distant figures of judgment but companions of mercy. Here, the Sacraments are open to every soul who hungers and thirsts for God’s presence.
This is the Church I want to serve. This is the ministry I commit myself to. My future will not be about gatekeeping, but about opening doors. Not about exclusion, but about radical welcome. Not about judgment, but about love—overflowing love.
If you seek Christ’s love, you will find it here. If you hunger for His Body and Blood, the table is set for you. If you long for healing, the arms of the Church are open. Always.
I can only say it plainly: My ministry will be for all who seek the love of God. Without exception. Ever.
A Prayer for Healing
Sacred Heart of Jesus, burn away the walls of hatred and fear that divide us.
Immaculate Heart of Mary, hold close every soul who feels lost, rejected, or unloved.
Holy Spirit, breathe new life into a weary world.
May the Church become again what You intended it to be—a refuge for the broken,
a fountain of grace for the thirsty,
a table of welcome for the hungry,
a home of mercy for all Your children.
And may my life, Lord, be nothing more and nothing less
than an instrument of Your endless love.
Amen.