When pain is our constant companion, peace of mind is sure to suffer. According to a study by Mental Health America, living with pain daily can cause deep emotional stress. “Chronic stress is known to change the levels of stress hormones and neurochemicals found within your brain and nervous system,” the study found. “These can affect your mood, thinking, and behavior . . . and bring on depression.” Pain is unavoidable. But it cannot overtake us.

Dr. Colleen Arnold, a physician, offers a remedy of sorts in this month’s issue. In her article, “Praying through Pain,” she writes about how prayer can soothe the minds and hearts of those who wrestle with pain—chronic or otherwise. This holistic approach to self-care, of tending to our spirits as well as our bodies, is good medicine.

Be well!

He traveled from Oklahoma to Guatemala to serve the poor and ended up giving his life in the name of peace and justice. His legacy continues to inspire those who want to live out the Gospel as he did.

On July 28, 1981, at 1:30 in the morning, three Spanish-speaking Ladino (nonindigenous) men snuck into the rectory of Santiago Apóstol Church in Santiago Atitlán, Guatemala, looking for the parish priest. They found and seized Francisco Bocel, the 19-year-old brother of the associate pastor, put a gun to the terrified young man’s head, and threatened to kill him if he did not take them to the pastor.

Bocel led the attackers down the stairs and to the door of a corner utility room. He knocked, calling out in terror, “Padre, they’ve come for you.” That’s when Father Stanley Rother, aware of the danger to the young man, opened the door and let his killers in.

The assailants wanted to kidnap Father Stanley, turn him into one of the desaparecidos (the missing). But he would have none of that. He was aware of Bocel, of the nine unsuspecting sisters in the convent across the patio, and of the other innocents in the rectory that night—all in danger of also being dragged away.

And Father Stanley knew they would torture and, ultimately, kill him. The priest—affectionately called “Padre Francisco” because of his middle name, Francis—never called for help. From his hiding place, Bocel heard the muffled noises of a struggle—bodies crashing into furniture and each other, several thuds. There was a gunshot. Then another. Then silence, followed by the sound of scrambling feet running away.

He rushed to wake up Bertha Sanchez, a nurse volunteer staying in the parish complex, alerting the Carmelite sisters across the courtyard from the rectory: “They killed him! They killed Padre Francisco!”

The women ran in and found Father Stanley shot in the head and lying in a pool of his blood. They immediately began to pray. His dear friend Bertha pronounced Father Stanley Francis Rother dead at the scene. No one has ever been prosecuted for his killing.

40 Years Later

This July 28 marks the 40th anniversary of Blessed Stanley Rother’s martyrdom, although due to the pandemic, it will be a much more subdued celebration than that of previous years. In Santiago Atitl√°n, and la Iglesia Parroquial de Santiago Ap√≥stol, which gives the town its name, the people remember and honor a faithful priest, a shepherd who proclaimed the Gospel with his life, a courageous man who chose to remain with them even when violence threatened—and eventually took—his life.

In a very real way, “Padre Apla’s”—as his Tz’utujil Mayan parishioners named him in their native language—remains their priest. And they come to him daily, asking for his help and intercession—much as they did during the 13 years that he served them. His death, like his life, is one more outward sign of his deep and abiding holy love for them.

“El beato [The blessed] is our example in how he chose to remain with the needy and marginalized, especially during a time of violence,” emphasizes 42-year-old Felipe Coché, a native of Santiago Atitlán. “Now more than ever, the same people that Padre Apla’s served in his time here are in need, especially in the fincas [rural areas] and remote areas outside Santiago. For me, el beato and his courage are my model for serving those in need,” adds Coché, speaking in Spanish, his second language after Tz’utujil.

For Coch é, whose father was a close friend of Blessed Stanley and accompanied the priest on visits to the sick, the American martyr remains close to his heart, especially his love in service of neighbor and his bravery at a time of persecution. “We remember him for defending and proclaiming the good news of the Gospel, and how he did not abandon his people, even to his death.”

The town and parishioners are delighted to be able to celebrate and remember the 40th anniversary of Blessed Apla’s’ martyrdom, says Coché.

Although COVID-19 restrictions still forbid public processions or large town celebrations, “the people will venerate him in home devotions and a visit to the church,” explains the father of two girls. On July 28, the day of his death, the parish plans to celebrate an open-air Mass on the plaza in front of the church.

The Oklahoma Missionary

Born on March 27, 1935, in a farmhouse in the middle of an Oklahoma dust storm during the Great Depression, Stanley Francis Rother was listed in his high school yearbook at Holy Trinity Catholic School as president of the Future Farmers of America.

But the farm boy from Okarche decided to plant a different kind of harvest. After graduating from high school, Stanley crossed the Red River for San Antonio and the seminary. Yet the path to the priesthood would be more difficult than Stanley anticipated.

He struggled in his studies—especially with learning Latin, which led him to fail his first year of theology. When the seminary sent him home, suggesting that he consider a different vocation, Stanley requested another chance from his bishop, who agreed to look for a new venue for him.

When Stanley’s fifth-grade teacher, Sister Clarissa Tenbrink, heard the news that he had flunked out of seminary, she wrote Stanley a letter to encourage him. “He wanted to be a priest so badly. He was very discouraged. So I reminded him of the Curé of Ars,” French priest St. Jean-Baptiste-Marie Vianney, who also struggled with academics and was notably deficient in Latin. “I told Stanley that if he really wanted to be a priest, then he should pray, and trust, and God would take care of things.”

In 1963, Stanley successfully completed his studies at Mount St. Mary’s Seminary in Emmitsburg, Maryland, hometown of the first American saint, Elizabeth Ann Seton. He was ordained a priest for the then Oklahoma City and Tulsa Diocese on May 25, 1963, at age 28. Father Stanley served the first five years of his priestly ministry without much notice in various Oklahoma assignments. But everything changed when he volunteered to serve in Guatemala.

When he arrived in Santiago Atitlán in 1968, Stanley instantly fell in love with the volatile and stunning land of volcanoes and earthquakes, but above all, with its people. He and the other 11 people who made up the Oklahoma mission team established the first farmers’ co-op, opened a school, built the first hospital clinic, and created the first Catholic radio station, which was used for catechesis.

More importantly, when the first Oklahoma missionaries arrived at the 400-year-old parish, there had not been a resident priest for over a century at the oldest parish in the diocese. The people were as malnourished spiritually as they were physically. While he did not institute the project, Father Stanley was a critical driving force in establishing Tz’utujil as a written language, which led to the New Testament in Tz’utujil being published after his death.

In a manner both humorous and courageous, the seminarian who struggled with learning Latin became the missionary priest who not only learned Spanish, but also became completely fluent in the rare and challenging Tz’utujil language of his 25,000 Tz’utujil Mayan parishioners.

“This language is fantastic,” Father Stanley wrote in a letter to his sister. “It isn’t related to any other here in Guatemala. There are 22 different Indian languages here.” About the extra effort required, he added, “[I]t will be worth every minute when I can go out and be able to speak with all the people and not just the 20 to 30 percent who know Spanish.”

And the farmer from Okarche, who loved the land and recognized God in all of creation, was never afraid to get his own hands dirty working the land side by side with the people—a trait deeply loved by his parishioners.

When Guatemala’s violent civil war made its way to the remote village in the late 1970s, Father Stanley’s response was to show his people the way of love and peace with his life. He walked the roads looking for the bodies of the dead to bring them home for a proper burial, and he fed the widows and orphans of those killed or parishioners who had gone missing.

“And what do we do about all this?” wrote Father Stanley to a friend in 1980.” What can we do, but do our work, keep our heads down, preach the Gospel of love and nonviolence.”

To use Pope Francis’ image, Father Stanley was a shepherd who smelled like his sheep.

‘The Shepherd Cannot Run’

In a letter dated September 1980 to the bishops of Tulsa and Oklahoma City, Father Stanley described the political and anti-Church climate in Guatemala:

“The reality is that we are in danger. But we don’t know when or what form the government will use to further repress the Church. . . . Given the situation, I am not ready to leave here just yet. There is a chance that the government will back off. If I get a direct threat or am told to leave, then I will go. But if it is my destiny that I should give my life here, then so be it. . . . I don’t want to desert these people. There is still a lot of good that can be done under the circumstances.”

Yet a few months later—and six months before his murder—Father Stanley and his associate pastor left Guatemala under threat of death after witnessing the abduction of a parish catechist. He returned, however, to his beloved Guatemala in time to celebrate Holy Week in April of 1981, ignoring the pleas of those who urged him to consider his own safety.

“He knew the dangers that existed here at that time and was greatly concerned about the safety and security of the people,” recalled Archbishop Emeritus Eusebius J. Beltran, in a 30th-anniversary message to the community of Cerro de Oro, one of the mission’s satellite churches near Santiago Atitlán. “Despite these threats and danger, he returned and resumed his great priestly ministry to you. . . . It is very clear that Padre Apla’s died for you and for the faith,” emphasized Archbishop Beltran, who served as bishop of Tulsa in 1981 when Father Stanley was murdered.

In his final Christmas letter from the mission to the Church in Oklahoma in 1980, Father Stanley concluded: “The shepherd cannot run at the first sign of danger. Pray for us that we may be a sign of the love of Christ for our people, that our presence among them will fortify them to endure these sufferings in preparation for the coming of the kingdom.”

America’s Ordinary Martyr

By constantly striving to be present to the people in front of him, to the needs in front of him, Blessed Stanley Rother proclaimed a God who lives and suffers with his people. In the end, the choice to die for the Tz’utujil people was a natural extension of the daily choice he made to live for them and in communion with them. His death was nothing less than a proclamation of God’s love for the poor of Santiago Atitlán.

Yet in a very real way, Blessed Stanley lived an ordinary life. He chose to make it a life of ordinary heroic virtue, with confident trust in Divine Providence and a keen awareness of God’s presence in the small and insignificant quotidian moments of parish life, as well as in the unfamiliar and often unexpected events of missionary life.

“While we focus a lot on his heroic example through his martyrdom, my heart always returns to his example of fatherhood. By following the Lord’s supernatural call, this ordinary man drew many people to Christ,” declares Father Brian Buettner, 38-year-old pastor of St. Joseph’s Old Cathedral in Oklahoma City. “As a priest, his fatherly example guides me to emulate his love and his willingness to stand in the face of evil to protect his children, even to the point of great suffering and death,” he says. “No matter where his people were, he would be with them.”

Even though the specifics of his life are much different than her own life, for high school teacher and Bronx native Valerie Torres, Blessed Stanley Rother is both relevant and inspiring. “The fact that he worked to have the New Testament translated to the language of the Guatemalan community so that his community could read and pray with the Scripture in their own language truly touches my students,” explains Torres, who includes Father Stanley every year in her high school curriculum at Aquinas High School in the Bronx.

“In my community, the students and local youth often serve as translators for their parents or grandparents. So many of our youth see their parents struggle to learn English, struggle to learn to read,” making his attentiveness to language very meaningful.

It is Blessed Stanley Rother’s love, courage, perseverance, and presence that make him the American saint we need, emphasizes Torres. “He embraced the preferential option for the poor and vulnerable. He witnessed Jesus each day of his life!

“We need US witnesses. We need witnesses who reflect our communities. We need contemporary witnesses,” she adds. Blessed Stanley reminds “our youth and their families—[and] all of us striving to live holy lives—that we are on the path to sainthood, even as we strive to dream and fulfill our God-given mission.”

According to Father Lynx Soliman, a newly ordained priest for the Diocese of Newark, Blessed Stanley Rother is the saint needed for the Church in America “precisely because he had the heart of a missionary,” and all of us are called to be missionary disciples. “As the first American martyr, I’m excited to see how many seeds will sprout from his blood for the glory of God and the good of souls,” Father Soliman says.

“And the universal Church will benefit from [declaring] such a saint because of how ordinary Blessed Stanley was,” notes Father Soliman, “and yet how attractive was his ‘ordinariness’! The world needs a man like Blessed Stanley to be declared a saint so that the mission of the Church will continue to thrive in a world that often tries to suffocate it.”

For Shellie Greiner, it is both his faithfulness and his modern-day story that make Blessed Stanley Rother attractive. “We have come to know him as ordinary, but [also] extraordinary,” explains the Oklahoma native.

“And I am ordinary, [so] can I become extraordinary through his example of simple living, of giving himself completely? Would I have the boldness to stand up for the Catholic faith and be willing to die for it today? I hope I don’t have to, but please, Lord, let me be bold always like Stanley Rother!”

A Beacon of Faith and Discipleship

The Blessed Stanley Rother Shrine will open in 2022, a stone’s throw from I-35, the major north-south highway crossing the middle of the United States from Minnesota to the Mexico border.

The 2,000-seat church, designed in the Spanish mission style echoing Blessed Stanley Rother’s church in Santiago Atitlán, will include a chapel where his body will be entombed. “I hope this shrine will be a beacon on I-35 drawing many to come and find out more about Blessed Stanley, to open their eyes and hearts to the power of faith in our Lord,” says Molly Bernard, chair of the Rother Shrine Building Committee.

“I have come to appreciate Blessed Stanley’s humility and service. He is a role model for us when we face tough situations,” notes Bernard, “and I pray to him daily to intercede for us in our archdiocese. He is truly a hero.”

“I hope that having this shrine in the heart of Oklahoma and in the heart of our archdiocese will teach all of us about pilgrimage as a model for a life of discipleship and mission,” emphasizes Oklahoma City Archbishop Paul S. Coakley. “I hope it will be a center for evangelization and formation that will nurture the faith of all who come.”

When you pray, mental and physical changes occur that help you cope with pain.

When my husband died, one of the most frequent comments I heard was, “At least he’s not in pain anymore.” I knew the words were meant to be reassuring, but they weren’t. They implied that pain was to be avoided at all costs, even at the cost of one’s life.

Pain is a universal experience. Whether it is the temporary hurt of a broken ankle or something more permanent like arthritis, every single human being suffers it at some point in their lives. There is no such thing as a pain-free life this side of heaven. It can be physical, mental, or spiritual, and despite the best work of our health-care providers, it will always be present to some degree.

Focus on the Positive

If we accept the idea that pain and suffering are part of this life, how do we stay positive? How do we enjoy the good and not let pain sour our moods and relationships? In his article “Transforming Our Pain,” Richard Rohr, OFM, writes, “If we don’t transform our pain, we will transmit it—usually to those closest to us.” How do we keep pain from becoming our life’s focus? Being a Christian adds an extra dimension, for Jesus invites us to take up our crosses and follow him.

First, we need to remember that pain is not a punishment from God. It might be the result of our own bad choices or sins—but it is not something he intentionally inflicts.

Allowing pain is not the same as causing pain, and we are not victims of God’s intentional wrath. He works in and through this imperfect world and can bring good out of even the worst suffering and tragedy.

The second thing to remember is that our pain has meaning. As Catholics, we believe in the concept of redemptive suffering: We can offer up our pain for the benefit of our own souls or someone else’s. We are already forgiven for our sins—Jesus made sure of that when he died on the cross—but our pain can be an offering that relieves some of sin’s consequences. As a child, when I complained about anything, my mom was quick to say, “Offer it up for the poor souls in purgatory.” Our suffering also teaches us to be compassionate and understanding with other people; we learn to help others as we have been helped.

Prayer Is Your Support

Prayer is a great ally in living with pain. Often our prayers are those of supplication (“Please, dear God, make my pain go away”) or intercession (“Please, dear God, make my daughter’s pain go away”). Even if our prayer doesn’t bring about a cure, it still has benefits. It changes our perspective and makes us humble. It slows heart rate and breathing and brings about a calm peacefulness.

Once we accept that pain is not punishment and that it can have purpose, we are free to speak openly in our prayers. We can vent our fury, our frustration, our fixation.

As we share with the One who can take it, our hearts become open to his grace at work within us, and through that grace we feel his presence. In his letter to the people of Genoa on the first anniversary of the deadly Morandi bridge collapse, Pope Francis wrote, “God’s answer to our pain is a closeness, a presence that accompanies us, that never leaves us alone.”

One of the frustrations of chronic pain is the feeling that no one understands. No one else realizes how hard it is to get out of bed in the morning without piercing back pain, to walk without wincing, to be unable to wash your own hair or brush your teeth because your shoulder hurts too much. In prayer, God’s grace reassures us that we are understood, our suffering is seen, our distress recognized.

Putting Pain In Perspective

In the practice of prayer we can also use three of pain’s greatest enemies: acceptance, distraction, and gratitude. How do we simultaneously accept our pain and distract ourselves from it? Aren’t they opposites? And how can we express gratitude for anything when all we can think about is how much pain we are in?

By acceptance, I do not mean the victimized sense of, “Woe is me.” Instead, I mean the acceptance with which Jesus prayed: “Father, all things are possible to you. Take this cup away from me, but not what I will but what you will” (Mk 14:36). Scientific research has repeatedly verified that people who accept unpleasant symptoms and emotions without judgment do better with everyday stressors. Trying to ignore pain or feelings can allow them to fester and eventually explode.

By distraction, I do not mean using drugs or alcohol or other forms of release, but rather resisting the temptation to allow pain to be the primary focus. In this world, good and bad go hand in hand: The pain of childbirth accompanies the joy of a baby. The flowers of spring bloom even as thunderstorms rage around them. With practice, we can focus on the good without ignoring the bad.

Finally, by gratitude, I mean awareness and appreciation of the gifts I have been given. We all have talents, relationships, and blessings. We can refuse to be like Eve, who was fixated on the apple she couldn’t have. We can choose to be delighted with the other delicious fruits available instead.

Action Steps

So how does all this work in daily life? Here is a practical example of a pain relief prayer meditation that includes acceptance, distraction, and gratitude. You may not be able to do every component, depending on your underlying health issues, so please adapt as needed.

Step One: Opening

• Start by making the sign of the cross.
• Sit in the most comfortable way you can, perhaps with feet on the ground and hands in prayer position.
• Take a deep breath in for a count of six. Hold it for a count of two, breathe out for a count of six, then hold for a count of two.
• As you focus on your breath, ask the Holy Spirit to fill you with his presence. Repeat the cycle two or three more times or until you begin to feel able to concentrate on the prayer.

Step Two: Acceptance

Pray these words: Dear Lord, help me accept your will and trust that you want only the best for me. Help me remember you can bring good out of anything. Let me believe that your purpose is good.

• Look around the room for three things that are white. White is the color of the Resurrection. Remind yourself that Jesus has already defeated pain and death, so you don’t have to. You are more than your pain.
• Look around the room for three things that are blue. Blue is the color of our Blessed Mother. Remind yourself that Mary suffered, too, and graciously accepted all God asked her to do for his glory. You have purpose in this life.
• Look around the room for three things that are red. Red is the color of blood. Remind yourself that Jesus suffered pain and humiliation and understands your own.
• Look around the room for three things that are green. Green is the color of spring and new beginnings. Let yourself embrace a new attitude of grace that allows you to join your suffering to Jesus’. You can live a life filled with joy.

Step Three: Distraction

Pray these words: Dear Lord, help me remember that I am not my pain; I am a child of God—loved, gifted, welcomed, wanted.

• Concentrate on what you feel besides your pain.
• Press your feet into the ground or floor. Feel them support you.
• Notice the place in which you sit—a soft cushion or a hard chair? Does it touch your back too? What other parts of your body feel supported?
• Can you feel your clothes around your waist or at your neck?
• Find the air on your skin. Is it the chill of the air conditioner or the warmth of the sun?
• Notice everything you can in this moment—except your pain.

Step Four: Gratitude

Pray these words: Dear Lord, I am grateful for my body and my life. It isn’t perfect, but I know that one day in heaven it will be.

• Look around the room again and thank God for the eyes that let you see. Relish for a few moments the most beautiful thing in your field of vision.
• Identify any noise in the background. Make note of your favorite sound and enjoy it before you move on. Thank God that you have ears to hear.
• Search for any smells in the room. If there are any, breathe them in deeply. If there aren’t, inhale deeply anyway. Thank God for the breath that sustains you. Let your breath flow for a few seconds, slow deep breaths in and slow deep breaths out. As you do, once again picture the Holy Spirit filling you with each breath.

Step Five: Closing

Pray these words: Dear Lord, I know that you love me. I accept the cross you have asked me to carry. I don’t like it, and I don’t want it, but I will do it. I will use it to bring you glory and am forever grateful that you are at my side. Yes, Lord, I am yours. Amen.

• Make the sign of the cross.
• When you finish, you will feel simultaneously relaxed and energized. Let this meditation be a reminder that there is no perfect life. We will all have pain, some more than others, but God will never leave us to suffer it alone. He is always there to help carry the burden.

When Someone You Love Is in Pain

It’s hard when someone you love is in pain. He or she can be irritable and short-tempered. What to do?

Listen. No judgments, no comments, no suggestions, no taking it personally. Let your person vent his or her anger and frustration. Sometimes simply unloading eases pain. Don’t absorb it; let it bounce off you. Try not to respond to negative with negative.

Help. Not just an offer, but an action. If the trash needs to go to the recycling center or the dishwasher needs unloading, simply do it. I promise no one will be offended, and even if they offer a protest, it will be half-hearted.

Accept. People with certain conditions such as fibromyalgia and complex regional pain syndrome look perfectly healthy, so it’s hard to understand how much they are hurting. If they say they are in pain, believe them. They are not being lazy or dumping on you; let go of anger, guilt, and blame.

Balance. You should listen to your loved one, but be sure you share your feelings too. Use “I statements” (“I feel. . .”) and avoid accusatory comments. Being a caregiver is exhausting, and you can’t take care of someone else if you aren’t taking care of yourself first. Be sure you get enough sleep, exercise, and time alone.

Learn. Educate yourself about the diagnosis, treatment, and prognosis. Knowledge is power, and you can be an advocate for your loved one.

Look for Positives. There is joy to be found even in the midst of pain: flowers blooming, glowing sunsets, kind gestures, a gentle touch. Gently calling them to attention can help widen your loved one’s perspective.

Sidebar: When to Get Help

Most episodes of minor pain resolve on their own within three months. Chronic pain doesn’t go away. There is no promise of future relief, like a cut that heals over time or appendicitis that gets better after surgery. So how do you know when you need help?

Any pain that is sudden and severe requires medical evaluation. Some types of pain are more dangerous than others: Stiff neck, severe headache, pain with numbness or weakness, chest pain, or severe injury are all potentially life-threatening and need prompt attention.

Chronic pain can vary in degree from mild and easily ignored to severe and unrelenting. It is unrealistic to expect complete relief, but a reasonable goal is being able to take care of yourself and fulfill your daily responsibilities. It’s important to work with your doctor to find treatments that are not only effective but also safe for long-term use. When your pain is affecting your life, it’s time to get help.

Seven heavy hitters in Hollywood share their experiences of being Catholic in the movie industry.

When I moved to Los Angeles, I discovered that the general perception about Hollywood by people outside Southern California is of glamorous celebrities, powerful studio executives, Beverly Hills, and, of course, the Oscars, but not necessarily a place where faith informs entertainment. I meet people who believe that Hollywood is anti-religious or pushing agendas contrary to a Christian worldview, a creator of cultural artifacts that demean the human person and destroy morals.

There are definitely those elements present, but it is not the case for every film set or person working in the industry. There are many whose faith informs their craft; they want to make a difference by telling stories that uplift and inspire.

Hollywood, and the industry it represents, is a place where art, creativity, and storytelling come together. It is also a place populated by searchers. “Despite what people say or think of Hollywood . . . it is a very spiritual place,” says Theodore “Ted” Melfi, film writer, director, and producer (Hidden Figures, St. Vincent). “It’s a very soulful place and people; especially in California, Los Angeles, and Hollywood [people] are always searching.” What are they searching for? We all seek purpose, meaning, communion, and intimacy that this world cannot satisfy. Ultimately, we are all seeking the spiritual, the supernatural, God.

Among the searchers in Hollywood are those whose art expresses their faith experience and learned values. I meet many of them at press junkets, red-carpet events, and film screenings. When I tell them that I pray for them and that there is a group of religious sisters who pray for all media professionals (the Paulines), they are flabbergasted. Many describe their heartfelt gratitude for these prayers, saying, as Harrison Ford did at a press junket for The Call of the Wild: “I so appreciate that. More than you know.”

Many seek spirituality and find it in their Catholicism. I asked a selection of known practicing Catholics in Hollywood what they love most about their faith, what it means to their craft of film or television, and what challenges they face being Catholic in the industry.

Best known for his role in The Fighter alongside Christian Bale, and as Sergeant Dignam in Martin Scorsese’s The Departed, actor and producer Mark Wahlberg says, “I hope God is a movie fan!” His viral Instagram posts show him going to church and thanking priests for their service to the people of God. “My faith comforts me in hard times and keeps me focused and disciplined,” Wahlberg says. “It provides the comfort and motivation to become a better person, a better father, a better husband, and to be an example.”

His faith leads him to inspiring stories. “Certainly the things that I usually gravitate toward most are the true stories and things that people find inspiring. I’m on this mission to make this movie about Father Stuart Long,” he adds. A former boxer and actor, Long miraculously survived a serious motorcycle accident, then became Catholic and later was ordained a priest. He died in 2014 at the age of 50 from a rare autoimmune disease.

Wahlberg calls the story “something that would challenge me as an actor but really have a huge impact on society as a whole. Like The Fighter, it will be one of those movies well worth the uphill battle to get the story and script in great shape and then the best version of the movie. It’s something I’ve been very passionate about for quite some time.”

Actor Jonathan Roumie, most recently known for his role as Jesus in the crowdfunded streaming series The Chosen, says, “My faith energizes me and comforts me knowing I have access to the true presence of Christ in the sacraments.” His faith informs his character acting as well. “The roles I get and am drawn to are characters that are challenged but have a good heart.

“I bring all of who I am,” he says. “I bring an authenticity and genuineness to the role, and I accept people for who they are and try to understand them and be compassionate.” Playing Jesus in The Chosen, Roumie says, “is the preeminent honor not only of my career, but of my life.” However, in any role he brings the depth of his faith to his craft. “As an actor, I love being able to create. It is an opportunity to grow closer to the Divine, the Master Creator.”

Not only does faith give meaning and purpose to life as an artist, but it is also the one constant element. As Ted Melfi says: “Relationships, friends, projects, business, the 10,000 things, they come and go. The one thing I have that’s constant is my faith and my belief in God. It’s always a comfort to me in the hard times and the good times, and I can always lean on it.” For Melfi, a writer, director, and producer, character development provides the heart of any engaging story. “I think I am always searching for a character’s faith internally and, in some fashion, what drives them and what allows them to do what they do, what makes them rise higher than they are as humans,” he says.

Melfi directed The Starling, a Netflix release earlier this year. Melissa McCarthy and Chris O’Dowd portray a married couple who suffer intense hardship, and the film gently reveals how every person deals differently with grief. As Jack (O’Dowd) seeks professional help, Lily (McCarthy) keeps busy with work and home. Every time she goes outside, a pesky starling attacks her to the point that she becomes obsessed with eliminating the perpetrator.

In a comedic way, the starling becomes the catalyst for Lily’s journey to acknowledge and confront the realities of life. Every character learns intrinsic value, even if the change is small. “And it’s the small change that means the most,” Melfi explains. “That’s the value we all have in God and God has for us. . . . We are all his children, and so we all have that inborn value, and that’s what I really love to find in the character and let the character discover their own value.”

The documentarian writer and producer of The Dating Project and Pray: The Patrick Peyton Story, Megan Harrington says: “The Eucharist is the source and summit of our faith, so that is the strength that sustains me. The Eucharist is the foundation for everything.” Her story of Father Peyton, known as the “Hollywood Priest,” shows him wholly devoted to the Eucharist and Mary as he developed rosary crusades including the catchphrase “The family that prays together, stays together.” The film shows this man dedicated to bringing Christ to the culture and befriending many celebrities.

Documentarians seek the true story that lifts our spirits to see the good in the world or the harsh realities that need our attention. “My job is not to convert anybody,” says Harrington, “but in stories . . . even if God is not present [directly] . . . there is a truth and beauty . . . [we] are telling.”

She codirected and coproduced her newest film, The House That Rob Built, a story about a women’s college basketball coach in Montana in the 1970s. The film says nothing about faith, but the sense of belonging provides for a spiritual experience. “There is something beautiful about that value that sports can do, but there’s no mention of faith; there doesn’t have to have mention for it to be there.” She says that faith “is the very essence of who I am, so I can’t separate it.”

Faith is a foundation for many Hollywood professionals. Elisabeth Bentley, producer of A Hidden Life, a film about World War II conscientious objector Blessed Franz Jägerstätter, says: “It is a great consolation to know that I am not the final arbiter of the meaning of all this [life]. Faith augments a person’s sense of self. It gives one a more open perspective because it is the onus of the artist to think they have to have the final answer.”

Jägerstätter was a lifelong, devout Catholic farmer in rural Austria. When he was drafted into the army, he refused to take the oath of allegiance to Adolf Hitler and the Third Reich and was sentenced to death. He was declared a martyr and blessed by the Catholic Church on October 26, 2007. Bentley says, “The more truthfully we represent the human experience as on a path of redemption, the more true we are to ourselves.”

Though it took her more than a decade to get A Hidden Life made, she reflects on the experience this way: “Having a Catholic perspective and understanding broadens us because we see beauty, freedom, and truth in the here and now. . . . It gives us perspective, because the Catholic experience leaves more ranges of gray to the human story.”

For many Catholic artists in Hollywood, their faith comes from the depths of who they are and gives life to characters, challenging all of us to reach for transcendence through everyday circumstances.

Actor Michael Harney (Project Blue Book, Orange Is the New Black) says that the foundation for his craft is the belief that “every breath is a sacrament. The unconditional love of Jesus, the complete humility of Jesus, includes everyone, and so you can say that after I do the technical things of learning lines and figuring it out . . . I always come to a place of: Where is the heart of Christ in what I am doing?”

As he creates the character, even if it’s someone who acts without a conscience, he reflects: “Then it’s an opportunity to experience an individual without a conscience. Then it’s an opportunity for me to go in that lost place and have an organic experience what that might be like. So, that, in that way, it’s an act of compassion.”

With 16 years of Catholic education education and Jesuit training along with a devout Irish Catholic mother, Sean McNamara feels his Catholicism is well embedded in him. Everything goes back, he says, “to love God above all and treat everyone as you want to be treated.” The producer, writer, and director of numerous teen television shows and films (That’s So Raven, Soul Surfer, The Miracle Season) says: “I have a sense of fairness on the set. I just try to talk to my actors and my crew, and it’s definitely not like Hollywood, or the version of what people think Hollywood is.

“My sets are really nice and quiet, and people can bring up their ideas and feel free to float ideas . . . and then we talk about it. It’s a really nice environment for expression.” Even though he does some films that have faith values, he tries to address the larger audience, because “I think good values apply to everybody. Catholics don’t like to be banged over the head by being preached to in a movie, but if you can insert it organically, I think it really works, and that’s what I try to do.”

His next film expresses these values as well. An Artist at War traces the lives of a Jewish couple, Joseph and Rebecca Bau, during World War II when they were helped by Oskar Schindler. They fell in love in a death camp, lost each other, survived Auschwitz, and found each other again. McNamara says: “The Catholic religion opens your heart to all people to listen to their stories, and we are all connected on some level. This is a definite departure from Soul Surfer, which is a Christian story, but now I’m finding this Jewish couple and telling their story.”

Is There Faith in Hollywood?

Most of the artists responded that they do not face any particular opposition for being Catholic in the industry. Wahlberg says, “It’s never been an issue, and I still have a great connection to many other people in Hollywood who are Catholic and love the Lord.” As McNamara says, “That’s what has allowed me to survive in this business . . . just kind of being open to what everybody else says, but also let them know my opinion and what I think.”

Harrington suggests, “We need to talk about the things that bring us together and not the things that bring us apart.” If your story is profoundly human, says Bentley, and it “resonates with something deeper, that’s what Hollywood is looking for.”

Hollywood is a place of searchers. It is the place where people of faith tell stories that resonate with the wider human experience. Though they may be few, as Catholics, these artists see that faith informs every aspect of their lives‚ and especially their craft of filmmaking and television production‚ in real but subtle ways. They seek to tell stories that are profoundly human and do so with great depth coming from their own lived faith experience.

Melfi says: “I find that Jesus’ best work was his parables, and he told stories in parables. And that’s what great filmmaking does. Great filmmaking tells the story of the parables and gives you a message without you ever knowing you got a message.”

One of the most common Christian prayers shows us the way to spiritual transformation and profound connection with God and each other.

“Prayer always transforms reality, always. If things around us do not change, at least we change; our heart changes,” said Pope Francis at a general audience on January 9, 2019. During his audience that day, the pope broke open Jesus’ teachings about prayer. I was not in the audience, but I read the text of his speech later and was reminded of the importance of the Our Father, one of the most common prayers of our faith.

When Jesus’ disciples asked him how to pray, he taught them the Our Father. With this gift to all of us, Jesus provided a pathway to God and a way to be formed in friendship and love.

If you are a lifelong Christian as I am, you have probably prayed the Our Father countless times and for many reasons. When I visit my memories, I see a variety of settings, ranging from the privacy of my bedroom to the celebration of holy Mass with thousands of other people. No matter where my memories take me, I am warmed with gladness.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Near the heat of happy campfires and around tables full of steaming food, in jails and classrooms where I was available to serve, and in simple chapels and enormous basilicas with pillars larger than trees: In each of these spaces I prayed the prayer that Jesus taught. As I did, I acknowledged God’s presence; I offered reverence to God’s awesome name.

Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

God’s reign is known in the flourishing of peace and justice in every person and part of God’s creation, when each element made to show God’s goodness is honored and respected. I have felt the order that God established when I prayed holding the sweaty palms of strangers, and as I ached from the tight grip of my big brother. I felt God’s eternal love as I prayed in the quiet of my bedroom and amid the commotion of busy streets.

Give us this day our daily bread

I have acknowledged my dependence on God in droughts and floods. I have named my need for love and food and water and air. I have asked God for help when I have felt overwhelmed and exhausted. I have felt the power of God’s designs, how I am interdependent and am made to be part of a community—just like everyone else. I have grown to understand that God expects me to share my bread and graciously receive the gifts others offer me. The words I pray teach me to trust that I will be OK, that God will provide.

And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us

Each time I have prayed the prayer that Jesus incorporated into his Sermon on the Mount, I have admitted that I am a sinner. I am imperfect. I am weak. I flail through my life, bumping into others with my reactions and selfishness. Each time I snap at someone or do something unkind, I am wounding my brothers and sisters in Christ; I am breaking our bonds. Each time I give my attachments more devotion than my prayer or fail to love as Jesus did, I am worshipping idols and sinning against God. Whenever I pray the Our Father, I admit my need for God’s mercy. I have said yes to the call to imitate God’s mercy when I forgive others for the pain they cause too.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Although I know my sinfulness, admitting I am weak is not enough. I must also turn away from temptation, from the sneaky lure of putting pleasure before sacrifice, from any darkness that dims the glow of God’s light in me. Again and again, I pray that God protects me, that God’s love shields me from anything that would prevent me from living as a child of the light. Only with God’s grace can I know true freedom and deliverance. With that freedom comes an invitation to cooperate, to keep my gaze on Christ, and to steer my feet away from fear and despair.

For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever.

From my non-Catholic friends, I have learned to put these words at the end of my prayer. Even though it’s not biblical, I don’t want evil to be the last word anytime I pray. As I include these words in the Our Father, I am praying that the unity found in the Trinity will also be felt in the Christian community, in the people of God—no matter their denomination or Church home.

God’s kingdom is beyond the borders that humans have made. God’s power and glory are bigger than the limits of the lines we’ve drawn. Each time I have prayed the Our Father with Lutherans or Baptists or Evangelical Christians and said the words that keep God above all our missteps, I have engaged in an ecumenical action. I have offered a prayer of expansion and dialogue. I have experienced and offered hospitality to strangers and guests. I have stood on common ground.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

The words of the Our Father have formed me and helped me practice my faith throughout my lifetime. As I’ve matured as a person, I have also matured in faith, and the words that Jesus gave us to pray have been a companion, a way that I have been enabled to grow into the person God needs me to be. The prayer enables us all to grow into the people God made us to be.

What do you see when you visit your memories? How has the prayer made you into a disciple and helped you love the goodness of God’s reign? How has the Our Father formed you?

Looking at my life, I can see how Pope Francis is right: Prayer is transformative. It’s no wonder my memories warm me with gladness. Each uttering of the words is an opening to God’s will, a devotion to our father, a God of love.

One day, Molly (Mila Kunis) knocks at the door of her mother, Deb (Glenn Close), and stepfather Chris (Stephen Root). She is in the midst of withdrawal from heroin—again. Deb refuses to let her in because she has stolen and lied so often over the years. She has been to rehab 14 times since she became addicted to oxycontin, following an accident when she was 17.

But Deb relents and takes her to rehab where, after three days, the doctor tells her about a monthly treatment called an opiate antagonist that will render her brain and body immune to getting high. It is not a cure-all but could be part of the road to sobriety. But Molly must be clean for a week or the treatment could kill her.

Deb—with love, hope, and some distrust—agrees to let her daughter stay with her and Chris so she can have four good days and then begin treatment. But she tells Chris, who has been through this many times before, that she doesn’t know if she even wants to love her daughter anymore.

During the four days, Molly gets to see her two children and her ex-husband, who asks her for painkillers. Deb, who left the family when Molly was young over issues with her former husband, feels guilty about her role in her daughter’s addiction. She lashes out at Chris, who is tired of the dysfunctional dynamic that appears every time Molly shows up. To his credit, he remains supportive.

As the fourth day looms, Molly manipulates and convinces Deb to take a risk that could bring everything crashing down again.

Four Good Days, written by Eli Saslow, is adapted from his 2016 Washington Post article, “How’s Amanda?” The interactions between Deb and Molly are gritty, raw, and& heartbreaking. Close, once again, delivers an award-worthy performance, and Kunis is outstanding as the junkie lying her way to another chance at health and healing.

Rodrigo García directs in a way that breaks your heart but gives hope as well. The film is for addicts and those who love them.

Not yet rated, R‚ Drug use, family dysfunction, lying, graphic withdrawal scenes.

When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit

It is 1933 in Berlin, Germany. Nine-year-old Anna (Riva Krymalowski) and her older brother, Max (Marinus Hohmann), live a comfortable life with their nonobservant Jewish parents. Just before the election that the parents fear will lead to Hitler’s victory, Dorothea (Carla Juri) tells the children that their father, Arthur (Oliver Masucci), has gone to Prague but will meet them in Switzerland. Critical of Hitler and the Nazis, Arthur is a theater critic who needs to move his family to safety. Anna is allowed to take only one toy with her. She loves her pink rabbit but cannot make up her mind which toy to take.

Once in Switzerland and reunited with Arthur, the refugee family settles in a mountain village where the people speak a Swiss-German dialect. The family adapts to the new language and customs. They learn from a family friend that Nazis came soon after they fled Berlin and emptied the house of all their possessions. When money is short, Arthur and Dorothea go to Paris to seek work. Arthur returns for the children while Dorothea prepares a tiny apartment for them. They learn another language and, for the first time, encounter anti-Semitism.

When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit is based on part one of the best-selling 1974 memoir written by Judith Kerr. Krymalowski is wonderful in her first feature role. The filmmakers let us see and feel the story of this political refugee family through the character of Anna. In small ways that go right to the heart, the film tells the story of a child’s grief, loss, and fear during the years leading up to the Holocaust.

Not yet rated‚ Mature themes, talk of suicide, anti-Semitism, peril.

The Perfect Candidate

Maryam (Mila Al Zahrani) is a surgeon who works at a clinic outside of Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Every day she must park her car and cross the unfinished road in front of the clinic to get to work. She applies for a grant to complete the work, but it is denied.

She leaves for a medical conference in Dubai, but she isn’t allowed to board the flight because her travel permit is not accessible online. She must find a male relative to vouch for her. Her widowed musician father is on tour and won’t answer the phone because his daughters cause him anxiety.

Maryam approaches a male cousin who thinks she is there to run for town council. It will be difficult, he tells her, and he signs the application. She explains why she is there, but he does not feel he can help her with her travel issue and hands her the candidate application.

Maryam returns home to tell her sisters Selma (Dae Al Hilali) and Sara (Nora Al Awad) that she is running for office in order to get the road fixed. Together they plan a campaign, trying to avoid the rules and cultural mores that govern women’s behavior.

Directed and cowritten by Haifaa Al-Mansour, the story deals with bias against women but also celebrates their strength as Maryam, her coworkers, and sisters take on challenges to improve the lives of the people.

Not yet rated, PG‚ No objectionable content.