My kids, who I swear just yesterday were learning to walk, are now learning to walk into the world on their own. That means growing and changing as a family. For example, because two of our kids live out of town, we have had to adjust how we celebrate holidays. You can read about that new experience in the Faith and Family column on page 48 of this issue.

But as hard as the passage of time can be, there can also be beauty in it. Author Elizabeth Bookser Barkley, PhD, reflects on that in her article, “Senior Moments: Wisdom, Grace, and Courage.” In it, she speaks not only of the challenges of aging, but also of the gifts that it can bring.

As the Greek philosopher Heraclitus said, “Change is the only constant in life.” As we move forward into the new year, may we embrace those changes and see the beauty in them. We wish you a blessed Christmas and new year, surrounded by family and friends.

But entering into a new year is not only about a new beginning; it’s also about an ending. If we are to embrace the next chapter of our lives with open arms, we need to take time to cultivate a sense of closure from the last chapter. After all, it’s equally important to look behind as it is to look ahead. Without pausing to take a conscious assessment of the past year, setting new resolutions will likely only keep us running on the proverbial hamster wheel. Eventually, we’ll become exhausted. If we’re looking for true, soulful inner growth and not a quick fix, carving out time to pray and deeply reflect on the past 12 months is in order.

When we stop to take inventory of our life experiences—especially in smaller increments of time, as with one calendar year—we have the opportunity to engage in deep listening with the Holy Spirit to better understand how God has been at work in our lives. The end of December provides the perfect time to reflect on the patterns and movements of God within us. It is also a time to look at the circumstances that we may not have noticed as they were happening in real time. Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20.

Identifying the highs and lows of the past 12 months can offer valuable insight on how to make the most beneficial choices in the future: We can see what has moved us closer to God and what has moved us further away. Putting together the pieces in this way could be akin to following a trail of bread crumbs in order to find the right path for moving forward in the year ahead.

Of course, looking into the past with openness and vulnerability is not always easy or pleasant. Painful things have likely happened in the past year; perhaps even things we would like to run from. But when we turn to God, we get the chance to see God’s presence even in the hardest times.

Consolation/Desolation

St. Ignatius wrote about times of “consolation” and times of “desolation,” indicating that both are part of the spiritual life. A state of consolation is when we are acutely aware of and are experiencing God’s active presence in the world and in our lives. In these times, we can clearly see the gifts of the Holy Spirit, such as love, goodness, mercy, and peace. On the other hand, a state of desolation is when we can’t seem to see or feel God’s active presence in the world. It may be because we are resisting God. Desolation tends to be marked by difficult feelings such as resentment, selfishness, fear, and gloom.

Consolation certainly feels more pleasant, but desolation has things to teach us too, which is why annual days of reflection can be so beneficial. No experience, however trying, is wasted when brought to God: There is always growth, redemption, and fullness of life to be had when we put our life in divine hands.

As we reflect on the year and seek understanding of God’s movements in our lives, it’s often helpful to pull out a journal and write down our thoughts as they come. Previously prepared questions can serve as prompts to get us started, such as, “What did I learn this year?” “What rhythms worked for me?” “What do I wish I had more time for?” “What brings me closer to God?” “What feels unnecessarily hard?” “What feels unhealthy to me?”

In the frantic pace of our busy culture, taking an entire morning for prayer and reflection can feel ludicrous and wasteful. The temptation is to barrel on into the new year with grandiose resolutions that we hope will improve our lives. But without stopping to seek God first, will any of those resolutions really last? Instead of taking a sip out of the nearest water fountain, what if we took the time to dig a deep, nourishing well? We might just taste the living water that Jesus promised.

Prayer

God of my past, present, and future,
I trust you have been active in my life for the past year.
Help me see the ways you have invited me to become
a more whole, loving, and compassionate person.
Give me the fortitude to continue to accept that invitation.
Amen.

For nearly 500 years, the appearance of the Virgin Mary to St. Juan Diego in Mexico has captivated countless hearts and minds worldwide.

With bowed head, brown skin, and wearing a blue-green robe studded with stars, Our Lady of Guadalupe is instantly recognizable and one of the most iconic images associated with Catholicism. Despite the widespread fame of this Marian apparition, its origins are quite humble and deeply connected to the identity of indigenous people in Mexico and beyond. The story begins 490 years ago in 1531 in Mexico City, a New World metropolis recently conquered by the Spanish.

Juan Diego, an indigenous man who had converted to Christianity, would make regular visits to a Franciscan mission for religious education, typically passing by Tepeyac Hill. On the morning of December 9, as he walked past the hill, the Virgin Mary appeared before him with a message: Request that the bishop have a chapel built in her name in this location as a place for those in need to pray for her intercession. After two more Marian apparitions—and a demand for proof from Bishop Juan de Zumárraga—on December 12, Juan once again encountered Our Lady, who uttered these famous words: “Am I not here, I who am your mother?” She instructed Juan to gather flowers, and when he did, she arranged them in his tilma, or cloak.

When Juan returned to tell Bishop Zumárraga about this latest encounter, he opened his tilma, the flowers fell onto the floor before the prelate, and emblazoned upon Juan’s cloak was an image of the Virgin Mary. Being the culmination of the four Marian appearances to Juan Diego, December 12 is the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Now, there is not only a chapel built in her honor on the Hill of Tepeyac, but also two basilicas. Construction on the original basilica began in the late 1600s and was completed in 1709.

Built with heavy stone in the style of churches of that era, the old basilica slowly began to sink and become unstable, due to Mexico City being built on a dried-out lake bed. The second basilica, built to handle the fluctuating earth underneath, opened its doors in 1976. The original tilma worn by Juan Diego is on display in the new basilica.

Well before the construction of the basilicas, the site was already venerated as a place of pilgrimage, even dating back to the year of the apparitions themselves—1531. Now it is the most visited Catholic pilgrimage site in the world, and the third most visited sacred site across all religions. Before the COVID-19 pandemic, around 10 million people visited the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe each year.

_{On Tepeyac Hill, where Our Lady of Guadalupe appeared to Juan Diego in 1531, a bronze sculpture installation by Aurelio G.D. Mendoza titled The Offering shows 17 figures, including the Virgin Mary, Juan Diego, Bishop Juan de Zumárraga, and indigenous people bringing gifts to honor Our Lady. (Image: Byelikova Oksana)}

_{The connection between indigenous heritage and the Marian apparitions is strong, as evidenced by pilgrims wearing traditional indigenous clothing. (Image: Octavio Duran, OFM)}

_{The facts that Our Lady of Guadalupe has mestizo—a combination of European and indigenous—features, and that she chose to appear to an indigenous person have long held an important place in the Mexican identity. (Image: Julio Ortega/iStock)}

_{The diaspora of Our Lady of Guadalupe celebrations has continued to spread in the United States. A woman wearing a traditional Aztec headdress participates in a ceremony honoring the Virgin in Houston in December 2019. (CNS photo/James Ramos, Texas Catholic Herald)}

_{Pope Francis burns incense on the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe at the Vatican in 2019. In his homily, the pope said, “May she speak to us as she spoke to Juan Diego with these three titles: with tenderness, with feminine warmth, and with a closeness of ‘mixedness.'” (CNS photo/Max Rossi, Reuters)}

_{Thousands of people join in an “Honor Your Mother” event in downtown Phoenix Dec. 5. The annual public procession honoring Our Lady of Guadalupe concluded with an outdoor Mass concelebrated by Bishop Thomas J. Olmsted and Auxiliary Bishop Eduardo A. Nevares of Phoenix. (CNS photo/Nancy Wiechec)}

_{In the days leading up to the feast day in 2020, thousands of faithful had already come to honor Mary by lighting a candle such as this one and offering prayers. (Image: Julio Ortega/iStock)}

Given that Our Lady of Guadalupe has mestizo—a combination of European and indigenous—features, and that she chose to appear to an indigenous person have long held an important place in the Mexican identity. She also reportedly spoke to Juan Diego in his native tongue, Nahuatl. Outside of Mexico, Our Lady of Guadalupe is honored by millions in the United States, other countries in Latin America, and beyond.

In Los Angeles, for example, an annual procession honoring the Virgin of Guadalupe has taken place since 1931. In cities and towns across the United States, more and more festivities and processions are popping up each year. So although this feast is thoroughly rooted in Mexico, it’s no surprise that Our Lady of Guadalupe is the Patroness of the Americas.

A rich treasury of spirituality and service can enhance the later stages of life.

“What do you think you will be doing when you’re 80?” a first-year college student challenged her classmates at the beginning of a presentation about a woman her project group believed promotes the common good.

Reactions were immediate: “I’ll probably be lying in a bed in an old folks’ home.” “Someone will be pushing me down to dinner in a wheelchair.” And, finally, to spontaneous laughter, “I’ll be dead!”

Then the students projected a slide with a picture of their exemplar of the common good: a smiling, lively-looking Sister Helen Prejean. At age 80, she had just published her third book, a memoir, and was still at the helm of the Ministry Against the Death Penalty.

My students’ hilarity and overt ageism quickly dissipated. Amused but not surprised by this reaction, I wondered how my 18-year-old students might reinterpret me, their energetic teacher, if they realized I trailed Prejean in age by only 8 years. Would they be surprised, even shocked, to realize I could be their grandmother?

A Myriad of Challenges

Based on current data about aging, my teaching career could last for almost another decade. According to a 2021 report from the National Center for Health Statistics, taking into account deaths in 2020, life expectancy for males in the United States is 75.1 years and for women, 80.5.

Even though my peers and I are living more active lives than our grandparents, there is no escaping the reality of aging: the physical, psychological, and spiritual challenges that each year presents. Like those before us, we can, in the words of poet Dylan Thomas, “rage, rage against the dying of the light,” or we can openly assess the years we have lived so far to find meaning and peace in the years to come.

But limitations are real. In The Seasons of a Man’s Life, psychologist Daniel J. Levinson writes of an aging man: “Even if he is in good health and physically active, he has many reminders of his decreasing vigor and capacity. If nothing else, there are more frequent aches and pains.”

That description rings true for Mike Harmon, 80, of Cincinnati, who describes “how hard it is to get used to arthritis in my hands, as I struggle to button my shirt or unscrew a cap. And my hearing and eyesight are going down.” More worrisome is a recent diagnosis of smoldering myeloma, a bone marrow cancer.

Even without such a diagnosis, aging friends have to face their physical limitations. A few years ago, a longtime friend, Bonnie Finn, was chopping up fallen branches in her garden on a wintry day when she slipped off a wet rock and ended up with her wrist in a cast.

Among the mental declines are memory problems and aphasia. If you’re not familiar with that term, you probably have not reached age 65. Derived from a Greek word that means “speechlessness,” this is the inability to retrieve the right word, especially proper names. Sometimes it takes a spouse or friend to nail down the word. Or even a community: “Where two or three are gathered,” we might eventually come up with the name of a movie whose plot we all remember but whose title escapes us.

In realistically facing mental and physical diminishment, 66-year-old Mary Kay Fleming, PhD, notes that a valuable coping mechanism is a good sense of humor. The professor emerita at Mount St. Joseph University in Cincinnati says, “You can moan about aches and pains, or you can be more playful and laugh at yourself.”

A Well of Spirituality

Coping with the challenges of aging doesn’t come naturally to everyone. However, Dr. Fleming mentions one well-documented predictor of our ability to “bounce back” from significant challenges: a deep spirituality. “Religious faith reminds us that there is more to life than our present ailments,” she explains. “We know we are not islands and that we belong to something larger and more meaningful.”

For Anne Marie Rusen, 75, religious faith—her own Catholic faith and her husband, Ted’s, devotion to the Russian Orthodox tradition—has been foundational to their 49 years of marriage. Until she retired recently, her life was one lived in service to her church—as an elementary school teacher, as director of ministerial development in a Kentucky diocese, and as a full-time pastoral associate for four small parishes near Dayton, Ohio.

Although Rusen’s relations with Church leaders have sometimes been strained, she vows, “I will never leave my faith.” In fact, she credits a Roman Catholic priest, Father Bob Monnin, the pastor of her young family’s parish in Vandalia, Ohio, with “shaping my spirituality and family life.”

Mike Harmon traces his spirituality to the deep faith of a mother and father who raised their 11 children in the Catholic Church and provided each a Catholic school education. From 1961 to 1969, he belonged to the Society of Jesus, where he was “strongly influenced by Jesuit spirituality: finding God in all things, practicing discernment, blending contemplation and action.”

His spirituality has helped him grapple with what he considers the biggest psychological challenge of aging: the loss of friends, several of whom died suddenly before he could reconnect. “As I age, I think about people who have gone on before me,” he reflects. “For the past year, I’ve been sort of depressed that people I have loved have died so suddenly.”

In one instance, he and Fran, his wife of 52 years, visited an 80-year-old friend in the hospital. As they entered his room, they discovered that this friend’s family had gathered when summoned by hospice to say their goodbyes. In a scene Harmon describes as “unexpected and unnerving,” he and Fran had arrived at the moment of their friend’s death. “I sat and held his hand as he died.”

Who Am I Now?

While each person ages uniquely, psychologists have identified life crises that are universal. Mount St. Joseph’s Dr. Fleming relies on developmental psychologist Erik Erikson’s eight stages of life when explaining to undergraduate students what aging looks like.

“The crisis adults face between the ages of 40 and 65 centers around leaving a legacy,” she explains, referring to Erikson’s seventh stage of development, which he termed “generativity vs. stagnation.” Dr. Fleming says that “in psychologically healthy adults, there’s a desire to mentor those who will survive you.”

The next stage, age 65 and beyond—called by Erikson “integrity vs. despair”—is the time to “look back at life and hopefully bring things to a point where you are happy with where you are in life,” says Dr. Fleming. “The challenge is not to be overwhelmed by regret, but to find a way to heal damaged relationships and be useful to those you are attached to, despite your physical limitations.”

The Rev. Maureen Doherty, an Episcopal priest, recently sold her house in Cedar Falls, Iowa, and moved into a senior independent-living facility with her spouse, Joan Farstad, also a priest, who is adjusting to Parkinson’s disease.

Their new lifestyle has been shaped by Joan’s “physical disabilities and diminished freedoms.” Instead of celebrating Eucharist within a parish, Rev. Doherty is sometimes asked to help with liturgies at the nursing home. With more isolation required by the recent pandemic, the couple feel fortunate to be able to be together in their apartment, sharing prayer each evening.

Another challenge for Rev. Doherty is giving up “knowing what I am doing every day when I wake up. I am the kind of person who needs to get up and move,” but by the nature of Joan’s illness, she needs to be with her many hours each day. “I am asking myself, What is the next part of my call here, in this town, in this residence? ” she reflects. “I need to redefine my meaning and my purpose under these new circumstances.”

According to Fleming, Rev. Doherty’s struggle is a perfect example of Erikson’s eighth stage: “Who am I now, in this condition/circumstance, and how do I make peace with it?”

Rusen has little trouble naming her biggest hurdle: starting over late in life when she and her husband moved to Powell, Ohio, to be closer to her husband’s doctors and several of her children and grandchildren. The move meant leaving friends and a parish where she had participated in a rich community and liturgical life. She hopes to find one that will feel like home and sustain her as she ages.

A Little Help from My Friends’

It’s not difficult to find public models of graceful and active aging just by browsing a newspaper or turning on the news: President Joe Biden, theologian Sister Joan Chittister, or actress Sophia Loren, who at age 87 recently starred in a miniseries. Several of those interviewed for this article need look no further than their age-mates to find inspiration as they navigate their final years.

Rusen looks to her husband, who has had two kidney surgeries and takes 27 medicines a day, “but never complains about his illness.” She admires his “spiritual depth. He is a good, good man, and I want to imitate him.”

Though Harmon falls short of canonizing his 80-year-old wife, he holds up Fran as a role model because she is “a person serious about her faith, forgiving, always open, never fearful, and focused on serving others.”

Rev. Doherty calls up the memory of the woman religious who helped her recalibrate her life. Each time they met, Rev. Doherty noted a gradual decline—from independent living to using a walker, then a wheelchair. Even though her friend was eventually confined to a bed in her community’s nursing facility, Rev. Doherty says, “She was sharp intellectually, and she kept having purpose through interacting with people.”

Reaching Out

Continuing to find meaning is one of the great tasks of the later years of our lives, says Dr. Fleming: looking outward, serving others, sharing wisdom even as physical energy begins to wane.

For Rusen, that means reaching out to people older than herself in her new neighborhood. “I am trying to learn the people I live near,” she says. “Some of their stories break my heart. After helping with 500 funerals in my ministry, I know how to read people. I plan to use the gifts I have developed over the years to help as I can.”

Although Rev. Doherty no longer ministers in a parish, she has responded to requests from local funeral home directors to lead weekly grief support groups. Despite restrictions on sizes of gatherings because of COVID-19, she has managed to find spaces to maintain these groups, which are so necessary as aging participants cope with grief in times of unbearable isolation.

Harmon, despite physical limitations, still serves a variety of causes. One role he cherishes is his position on the board of the St. Francis-St. Joseph Catholic Worker House for homeless men in the center of Cincinnati. Despite the limitations of aging, he can see an upside to them: “As I grow older, I observe more; I listen more.”

‘Be Not Afraid’

Even while pledging to reach out to others as long as they can, each of my interviewees is realistic about the spiritual task that awaits them as they envision their own deaths. That is one of the goals of aging, Dr. Fleming reminds us: “to come to terms with life, to find gratitude, to forgive, and not to be afraid of death.”

During a phone call with my friend Bonnie Finn near All Souls’ Day, we reminisced about those who have gone before us, friends we admired, many of them religious sisters. We named them with respect and love—Elizabeth, Joan, Margie, Paula—grateful for their impact on our lives, for being role models as we age. “They are the ones who made me unafraid of death,” she told me. “It’s like they are here with me. I talk to them about God and death, and they know, because they are there.”

When I asked Rev. Doherty, Harmon, and Rusen whether they feared death, each pointed to belief in something beyond their physical existence. Harmon expressed it this way: “I have no fears except that life is so beautiful and wonderful and I will miss it in the way I have experienced it, but I will still be part of the great stream of creation.”

As I reflect on my own “beautiful and wonderful” life, I am reminded daily of my mortality by reports of the still-rising death toll from the coronavirus. At the time of this writing, I have just finished a semester connecting with my students remotely, their disembodied faces and voices emanating from my computer screen. These students have many decades before they confront their own aging, but perhaps someday they will pick up a dusty copy of Prejean’s memoir River of Fire: My Spiritual Journey and tear up, as I do, when reading its afterword:

“My Sisters strengthen and inspire me to be generous in service and faithful in prayer, even when God seems to go dark. And now, as we age, they are teaching me how to die. But only when it’s time. For now, it’s all about riding the life river wherever it leads, full throttle, no-holds-barred.

“One thing I love about Jesus’ spirit is that he was always talking about really living, being truly alive. And as I experience it, that’s what the Jesus spirit in us does: quickens us to touch and enliven each other to life.”

St. Joseph may not have speaking parts in Scripture, but his role in the life of Jesus—and ours—is hardly a bit part. A film reviewer explores characters that showcase Joseph’s virtues.

In his apostolic letter proclaiming 2021 as the Year of St. Joseph, Pope Francis details many of St. Joseph’s virtues as the husband of Mary and foster father of Jesus: He was a loving and tender caregiver; a protector and defender of his family; a dignified and honest worker; noble of heart, trustworthy, and mature.

Joseph taught Jesus to make his own decisions as any father should. He confronted crisis after crisis and creatively found a way to resolve them. Trusting in divine providence, Joseph knew that God acts through events and people.

As a film reviewer, it occurred to me that St. Joseph’s virtues, or “habits of being,” are often seen in characters in television and films—some directly and others indirectly. As Catholics, these characters may especially resonate with us as the Year of St. Joseph concludes December 8.

Of course, myriad films and television shows that tell the Christmas story feature St. Joseph as an essential character. Recent films delve into Joseph’s personality and develop an actual character arc. Examples include Catherine Hardwicke’s The Nativity Story (2006), Christopher Spencer’s Son of God (2014), and Cyrus Nowrasteh’s The Young Messiah (2016).

Beyond these more biographical treatments, we also can see glimpses of St. Joseph’s virtues in memorable father figures featured on the big and small screen. These characters are all flawed to some degree and do not reach the heroic height we attribute to St. Joseph. Yet, even though some may seem improbable as role models, their virtues resemble those of the saint, and their stories can inspire us.

The Challenges and Joys of Fatherhood

Dads is a 2020 documentary by Bryce Dallas Howard, Ron Howard’s daughter. The film features reflections on the joys and challenges of fatherhood from Ron Howard, other celebrities, and dads from around the world. Among all the fathers featured, almost every virtue of St. Joseph is showcased.

One father from Japan, after suffering a kind of breakdown, decides with his wife to become a stay-at-home dad to their son. This is not very acceptable in Japanese society, and it was a courageous, countercultural decision. St. Joseph had to make a countercultural decision, too, when he accepted Mary as his wife even though she was with child.

Reflection Questions: As a parent, when have you had to make decisions that go against the prevailing culture? What can St. Joseph teach us about trusting in God when we face challenges?

A Father Walks a Hard Road

The Way (2011), directed by and starring Emilio Est évez as Daniel, features his real-life dad, Martin Sheen, as his screen father, Tom. Tom is an ophthalmologist who must travel to Spain to retrieve Daniel’s ashes after he died in an accident on the first day of walking the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. Tom and Daniel had argued on the way to the airport because Daniel told him he was dropping out of a doctoral program. Tom was angry, disappointed, and concerned that his only son had left everything to find himself.

Rather impetuously Tom decides to walk the Camino himself, taking his son’s ashes with him. Tom is a lapsed Catholic, and this journey with three others he meets along the way renews him in soul and body. Tom has provided for his family, made sacrifices for them, and taught Daniel to make his own decisions—and when he does, Tom struggles to accept this new reality. At this crisis point in his life, Tom finds a creative way to resolve his inner turmoil and reconcile with his son’s memory and with God.

Reflection Questions: On the Camino, Tom made peace with his son as he walked with others in his grief. When have we had to let go of the dreams we had for our children? What can we learn from St. Joseph about the value of respecting our children’s freedom?

The Dignity of Work

The Pursuit of Happyness (2006) stars Will Smith as the real-life Chris Gardner, a bone-density-scanner salesman in San Francisco. In 1981, he was in the process of losing everything—wife, son, job, and apartment. At one point he and his son, Christopher, spend the night in the bathroom of the subway because they have nowhere else to go.

While sharing a taxi ride with a stockbroker, Chris solves a Rubik’s cube in amazing time. The stockbroker is so impressed, he invites Chris to apply for an internship at his firm. Chris is a generous man and stalwart dad who never gives up. This is a heartbreaking, tense story about a man who perseveres against all odds and cares for and protects Christopher at all costs. Eventually, his talents and hard work are greatly rewarded, and he makes a home for his son.

Reflection Questions: Pope Francis points to St. Joseph as a patron of dignified work. What can we learn from St. Joseph about the meaning of our work? How as a society can we ensure that all have an opportunity for work and a fair wage?

Creativity and Courage

Roberto Benigni cowrote, directed, and starred in Life Is Beautiful (1997), a tragicomedy about the Nazi occupation of Italy in 1944. He is Guido, a Jew, who has married Dora (Nicoletta Braschi), a gentile. Guido is very funny and cares for his family with antics and good, often over-the-top humor. They have a son, Giosué (Giorgio Cantarini), who is the light of their lives. Though Italy is at war, they work hard at running a bookstore in their northern Italian city, and things are peaceful enough, though anti-Semitism is rife.

On Giosué’s fifth birthday, Guido, his uncle, and Giosu é are rounded up by the Nazis and put on a train for a concentration camp. Dora joins them, but at the camp they are separated. Guido, knowing the danger they are in, nevertheless exhibits humor, optimism, and hope before losing his life to the Nazi death machine.

Guido is a Joseph figure in so many ways. He sacrifices everything he can to save the lives of his family. His good humor and creativity to make sure his son survives the biggest human crisis of the 20th century make him one of the most beloved screen fathers ever.

Reflection Questions: Pope Francis calls St. Joseph a “creatively courageous father.” How have our parents been creative and courageous when faced with a crisis? How can we exhibit those characteristics?

Learning to Let Go

Finding Nemo (2003) might seem like a stretch: Can a fish exhibit the qualities of a saint? Think of the angst that Mary and Joseph felt when Jesus stayed behind after making the customary Passover pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem. Joseph must have felt responsible in a way only fathers can, and the fear of tragedy must have been almost unbearable as he and Mary rushed back to the Temple searching for 12-year-old Jesus (Lk 2:41-52).

In Pixar/Disney’s Finding Nemo, Marlin, a clownfish, is father to young Nemo whose mother, Coral, was lost in a barracuda attack. Father and son live rather happily on the Great Barrier Reef. Nemo wants to explore the reef and far beyond into the ocean, and Marlin is terrified that something may happen to his son if he goes off on his own. He is overprotective and neurotic. Marlin embarrasses Nemo on his first day at school and Nemo swims away. A couple of scuba divers capture him.

As Marlin gives chase, he meets Dory, a blue tang with limited short-term memory. Together they set out to find Nemo and bring him home. Marlin is caught up in his own inner chaos but must come up with a way to track his son, whom he loves to distraction. As a father, he must teach Nemo how to make some of his own decisions as he grows. At some point, Marlin will have to let Nemo go. While Marlin is flawed and has a lot to learn, his love for Nemo is strong and powerful. It brings out courage he never knew he had.

Reflection Question: What does St. Joseph teach us about the courage to “let go” as our children begin to mature?

Fortitude in the Face of Chaos

Over its six seasons now streaming on Netflix, Schitt’s Creek has slowly gathered a gigantic and devoted following because of its great heart. The Roses—dad and businessman Johnny (Eugene Levy), mother and actress Moira (Catherine O’Hara), gallery-owner son David (Daniel Levy, real-life son of Eugene), and globe-trotting daughter Alexis (Annie Murphy)—once very wealthy, have lost everything after being defrauded by their business manager. The government, however, lets them keep a rundown town in the Canadian outback that Johnny once bought for David as a joke. They are also allowed to take whatever personal possessions they can carry in a few suitcases.

Schitt’s Creek becomes their new home, and the quirky mayor, Roland Schitt (Chris Elliott), gives them a place to live in the town’s motel, run by a snarky young woman, Stevie Budd (Emily Hampshire). When their lives are in chaos, Johnny is the calm in the storm, the noble head of the family. He shows fortitude in the face of life’s “frustrations, contradictions, and disappointments,” as Pope Francis describes St. Joseph. He is also a tender and loving father to his almost-middle-aged kids.

Joseph had to work hard to support his family too. Though with few possessions, Joseph and his family thrived because he was a virtuous, principled man, who loved and sacrificed all to be the foster father of Jesus.

Reflection Question: When have you or your family faced a sudden change or reversal of fortune?

From demonstrating a strong work ethic to embracing masculine sensitivity, these father figures reflect aspects of one of our faith’s strongest paternal role models in Joseph. In fathers and St. Joseph, we seek guidance and strength. As Pope Francis writes in his apostolic letter “Patris Corde“:

“Each of us can discover in Joseph—the man who goes unnoticed, a daily, discreet, and hidden presence—an intercessor, a support, and a guide in times of trouble. St. Joseph reminds us that those who appear hidden or in the shadows can play an incomparable role in the history of salvation.”

St. Joseph on the Screen: A Protestant Minister’s View

The presence of St. Joseph in a key role in film is more accurately a conspicuous absence, except in Jesus movies. Even then, St. Joseph is often represented as the odd man out. The scarcity in film can be explained, in part, by the preoccupation with Mary and Jesus, and scant information from biblical texts.

The sainthood of Joseph suggests there are important aspects or features to his life demanding attention. Given the paucity of material for literal depiction, we are left with a few clues and an open-ended invitation to the vivid imagination.

Cinematic portrayals of Joseph are ones of inference and creative representations. I have selected two movies in which to excavate the spirit and characteristics of St. Joseph: First, in Boyz n the Hood, the Joseph figure is Jason “Furious” Styles (Laurence Fishburne). Released in 1991, Boyz n the Hood was written and directed by John Singleton and received widespread critical praise.

Boyz n the Hood

The narrative, set in the Crenshaw District of Los Angeles, involves Furious Styles and his son, Tre Styles (Cuba Gooding Jr.). The story unfolds as a series of encounters common to neighborhoods infested with gang association and violence.

Furious Styles is the conscience, protector, and prophetic voice in the drama. He is both a guardian and mentor to his son, Tre. Here is a quote on the Joseph-like qualities from a review of the film: “His mix of Black smarts and book smarts earns him enough credits to get a degree in legalized survival. Mr. Styles manages to teach Tre about everything he needs to learn to navigate his neighborhood, from racial profiling to gentrification.”

One can imagine that Joseph played a major role in the life of his son, Jesus. I encourage readers to view the film and think of Joseph as one “badass” father who is also a lover of life.

Children of Men

Theo Faron (Clive Owen) is a Joseph figure, in my theological-cinematic imagination, embedded in the postapocalyptic film Children of Men.

The movie was directed by Alfonso Cuarón and released in 2006 to critical acclaim. It was voted 13th among 100 top films in the 21st century by numerous critics around the world.

The plot is complicated, but a quick summation is that women worldwide are suffering from infertility, so the future of human life on earth is in jeopardy. The political turmoil and threatened collapse have led to massive asylum-seeking. Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey), who is pregnant, is desperate for documentation as she seeks sanctuary in the United Kingdom. Theo is hired to procure the papers and then escort her through a series of disasters to safety so the baby can be delivered, and the human race can gain a new lease on continued life.

Theo, as a Joseph symbol, is a former activist who rises to the calling of the moment. He is the “archetypal everyman,” who reluctantly becomes a savior. His courage, creativity, persistence, deft handling of danger, and acuity in life-threatening situations to ensure continuity of salvation are prototypical St. Joseph.

Joseph will likely never be in a starring role: Mary and Jesus will continue to dominate the lead roles. The revealing roles played by “archetypal” Josephs in films such as Boyz n the Hood and Children of Men spotlight St. Joseph’s virtues, however. I additionally recommend watching the following characters in these movies: Da Mayor in Do the Right Thing, Father Brendan Flynn in Doubt, and Jose Sanchez in Gregory Nava’s Mi Familia. A leap of the imagination may be required to recognize the Joseph figures, but stalwart, good, and noble men are there if we look.

Scott D. Young is an ordained minister, the cofounder of Culture Connection, and the program director for Wesley Foundation Ministries in San Diego, California. His blog is the Culture Vulture Report.

Pilgrimages add a spiritual dimension to travel, opening us up to authentic and unexpected encounters with God. Here are seven reasons people make these holy journeys.

I’ve been leading pilgrimages to sacred places for about 30 years, experiencing the desires that spring up in my own heart and learning the many reasons why people choose to go on a sacred journey. Beginning in the 1990s, I offered trips to biblical lands that would help people experience the places of the Bible and thus learn more about the context of God’s word. But I have increasingly discovered that education is only one of many reasons people desire to travel to these holy sites. Sometimes we discover our deeper reasons for pilgrimage only while on the journey.

As we look forward to a future with fewer COVID-19 restrictions, I know that people will be eager to travel again and that many will experience a deeper longing to go on pilgrimage. Like all genuine desires, there are reasons God instills these yearnings within us. Here are some of the motives I’ve seen within people who long to go on pilgrimage.

1) Experiencing a Call

A call from God is experienced as a deep desire, whether it’s a momentary urge to do a good deed or a divine nudging toward a lifelong vocation. For anyone experiencing such a desire, it’s important to explore its sources and to consider ways to realize it.

People tell me, for example, that they’ve wanted to go to the Holy Land their whole lives, but that recently that desire has become more intense and tangible. I tell them that they might be experiencing God’s call, and that now it is up to them to determine if God is clearing their path by giving them the right circumstances, the ability to sacrifice what it takes from their savings, and the space away from their ordinary responsibilities to make the trip. If these things all become possible, then that’s a sure lead.

As people depart on pilgrimage, I invite them to consider how God has made this trip possible for them, who is sacrificing for their sake, and how all the pieces have fallen into place for this moment. Then I urge them to be grateful, relax, and follow God’s lead along the journey.

2) Marking a Life Transition

Many of the saints of old, when they experienced their conversion to a life devoted to God, marked that transition by going on pilgrimage, often journeying to Jerusalem or Rome. Arriving in the holy city symbolized the surrender of their lives to God. For similar reasons today, people experience the major transitions of life as sacred times, often associated with a desire for sacred travel.

Friends of mine recently said that they are going on a pilgrimage because their last child was finally leaving home, and they have been trying to figure out how to live purposefully with an empty nest. Pilgrimage became for them an opportunity to cross the threshold from the activities of family life to the more mellow days of life together. And pilgrimage seems to make that passage more intentional and God-centered.

Retirement can be a similar kind of moment. When people retire, they often mark the transition to this new phase in their life by taking a trip. Those who wish to seek God’s direction for the years ahead might make that retirement trip an experience of pilgrimage in order to designate their willingness to let God lead their way in the years to come.

3) Honoring a Loved One

The death of a loved one often leads people to choose a pilgrimage. Usually it takes about a year to get through the hard grieving that follows a painful loss, but after that first cycle of yearly events has passed, the survivor is ready for something new. A pilgrimage often marks that passage from brokenhearted loss to the desire to figure out how to get on with the rest of life.

A few years ago, three siblings traveled with me because their father had just died and left them with an inheritance. Rather than simply paying down credit cards or remodeling a kitchen, they decided to pay tribute to his life by traveling to Italy together in his honor. They knew that he would be proud that they were doing this to remember him and to express the faith he had given to them.

On every trip I lead, there are usually a few recently widowed women and men. While visiting the holy places, they are comforted by a deep sense that the beloved is with them along the way. But, at the same time, they gain new confidence that they can make it on their own, with God’s grace and the help of family and friends.

4) Praying for a Need

Christian shrines and tombs of the saints throughout the world are often adorned with votive offerings: tangible objects deposited and displayed at the site to express the petition, trust, or thanks of pilgrims. Traditionally at healing shrines, the offering takes the form of small silver models of the afflicted body parts or hearts made of precious metals. These are physical signs that healings are happening at this place, and others can call upon divine help in their needs.

When a pope brings a votive offering to a shrine, it may be a crown for the Virgin Mary or a golden rose as an expression of affection. When I bring an offering, it is more likely a flower to leave at the altar, a monetary offering for the shrine, or a votive candle lit to implore the saint’s intercession.

Pilgrims need time to pray at sacred places and to remember the purpose of their journey. I often remind my groups to pray for their intentions and those of their family and friends back home. I find it helpful to ask questions like these: What are you asking God to do in your life at this place? How do you hope to be different after this pilgrimage than when you started?

5) Enriching a Marriage

Married couples sometimes get into ruts. Life together becomes routine and predictable. Pilgrimage can be a means to shake things up in a relationship, an opportunity to renew the bonding forces of love. Because love is not measured by emotional feelings from day to day, but by the accumulated choices and activities together, the shared memories of a life-changing pilgrimage can renew a marriage like nothing else.

My wife and I both love to travel. We both enjoy photography, experiencing new places, and purchasing remembrances for our home. But when we go on pilgrimage together, there is an extra layer of significance that can’t be quantified in photos and souvenirs. A sacred place enriches the soul. We return to ordinary life more refreshed in spirit and more bonded on a level that is difficult to express.

When married couples travel with other couples and get to know one another, they have the opportunity to uplift the marriages of one another. By getting to know other couples, learning about their lives, and having fun together, a couple can find their own marriage becoming more whole. When all that becomes enriched by prayer and the sacraments on pilgrimage, the results are transformational.

6) Encountering God More Experientially

Throughout the Bible, people encounter God in new ways when away from home and on a journey. Abraham and Sarah had to leave their homeland in order to get to know God. The people of Israel grew to understand their identity while traveling through the wilderness. Mary and Joseph lived their earliest time with their infant son while journeying from Bethlehem to Egypt. In our tradition, people meet God in experiences on the road.

I recall the feelings associated with a midlife transition I experienced a couple of decades ago. The anxiety, uncertainty, and fear associated with midlife brought me to a place where I knew I had to go somewhere—preferably somewhere far away, mysterious, and deeply spiritual. I had an intuitive sense that such a transcendent journey would allow me to return home ready to take the first step toward the second half of life.

I’m not sure what it is about the spiritual journey that is so transforming, but people through the ages in every religious tradition have found it to be so. If you need to be deeply renewed, purged of toxins, and ready to start life anew, let God lead you on pilgrimage.

For Christians, pilgrimage appeals to our ability to encounter God through creation, through history, and especially through what Celtic spirituality calls ‘thin places.’ We experience holiness in those locations where the barrier between earth and heaven is particularly thin. Because of our sacramental imaginations, we want to see, hear, smell, taste, and touch those places where people have experienced God in unique and particular ways for a long time.

7) Joining with Christians across Time and Place

When Jesus told the people of Nazareth that no prophet is accepted in his hometown and by his own people, he was speaking a truth about familiarity. In our familiar places, our expectations are lowered. This is the reason we have to leave home and travel in order to receive the grace of pilgrimage. Life with God is full of surprises, and God is quick to go beyond our expectations, but sometimes we’ve got to leave our town and our neighbors for a while in order to experience the truth of this reality.

When I travel to places of pilgrimage, Middle Eastern biblical sites, striking Gothic cathedrals, sanctuaries of the saints, places where Mary has appeared‚ I’m overwhelmed by the beauty of the Church. Each place of pilgrimage is soaked with the prayers of people who have come there for centuries. When I see people coming from all over the world‚ some wearing indigenous attire‚ to a place very different from my homeland, offering exotic foods, and expressing unique customs, I’m awakened into hopeful expectancy.

Yet, amid all the diversity of these places of Christian pilgrimage, I know there is one Lord, one faith, one Baptism. I experience a unity with all these holy people, sisters and brothers in sorrow and joy, children of God seeking healing and hope. I know that in Christ I am united with all these people in a way that transcends everything else. So when another group is filling the pilgrimage site to celebrate a wedding, mourn at a funeral, or offer the Mass, I don’t resent the fact that I can’t get closer or capture that perfect photo. I am able to stand back, offer a quiet prayer, and rejoice that this sacred place is enriched with living faith, that it is not a museum but rather a place to encounter the living God.

Because I experience the truth, goodness, and beauty of the Church on pilgrimage, I can return to my hometown and my familiar places and there remember that God is real. I can know again, as if for the first time, that God is alive in my everyday life, that I can encounter the divine presence in my family, school, and work. Pilgrimage has renewed my soul, and I can return home with new eyes and a converted heart.