We’re just weeks away from Thanksgiving—and you practically can smell the stuffing already! This beloved American holiday is a joyful pause, a moment when everyone, regardless of background or belief, gathers around the table to celebrate gratitude. No gifts, no pressure—just food, family, and the cozy traditions we cherish: turkey trots, football games, and lending a hand at food banks. It’s simple, heartfelt, and for many, the perfect holiday. And let’s be honest—every family has that one dish that must be on the table. For me? It’s homemade cranberry sauce, tart and glistening, the crown jewel of the feast.
New York City’s vibrant diversity includes global cuisines rooted in tradition. For my family, Christmas Eve means celebrating Polish Wigilia—a meatless meal that begins when the youngest child spots the First Star, a challenge amid the city’s glow. The table is dressed only in white (no red and green), with hay and a whole Opłatek wafer at the center, symbolizing Jesus in the manger. Dishes like Żurek and pierogi are served in odd-numbered courses, all white in color. We set an extra place and light a candle to welcome the Holy Family or any stranger in need. Before eating, we break and share Opłatek, offering blessings, gratitude, and love to one another.
It was only when I went to college that I learned many Americans actually eat MEAT Christmas Eve. I was shocked and a little horrified! Our Easter traditions are less in-depth, but I would never even think of eating food that is not blessed on Easter Saturday. I am third generation and not even 100% Polish.
So, as I met Jewish and Muslim friends and learned they, too, had dietary traditions, I somehow found it comforting and familiar. Kosher in Judaism and halal in Islam are the two most recognized religious dietary systems and ones New Yorkers can see daily in everything from restaurants to food carts. While we may not know the differences (yet), it is fair to say that both express a deep respect for God and the injunctions passed down in the Torah and Quran. The word kosher derives from the Hebrew word kasher, meaning “fit” or “proper” according to the kashrut laws. Halal in Arabic means “permissible” according to Islamic sharia law.
Both Judaism and Islam intertwine food with faith, setting clear guidelines on what’s permissible and how holidays are observed. Passover, one of the oldest food-focused celebrations, is detailed in the Bible and marked by a family meal—much like Thanksgiving. Islamic traditions also center around food and ritual. During Ramadan, Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset, then gather each evening for Iftar—a meal that begins with prayer and shared dishes. It’s a practice our parish recognizes and honors alongside our Muslim neighbors.
Compared to their Eastern counterparts, Catholic Christians take a more relaxed approach to food restrictions and fasting—especially during Lent. But step into the world of the Eastern churches—Armenian, Orthodox, Coptic—and you’ll find a rich tapestry of fasting traditions woven into the calendar. These communities observe numerous fast days and intricate dietary rules, turning spiritual discipline into a deeply embodied ritual that shapes daily life and communal rhythm.
Ready to feast on knowledge just in time for the holidays? Join the Ignatian Interfaith Ministry on Monday, November 17th for “Eat This, Not That!”—a lively, eye-opening evening exploring the fascinating similarities and differences between kosher and halal traditions. Whether you’re hosting, attending, or simply curious, this is your chance to deepen your understanding and become a more thoughtful, inclusive neighbor. Doors open at 6:30 PM, the conversation kicks off at 7 and trust us—you won’t want to miss it. RSVP now at [email protected] and come hungry for insight!
— Simone Vinocour, Chair, Ignatian Interfaith Ministry
Essay: 1,000 Sandwich Bags to New York Common Pantry!Parishioners of all ages jumped into action on Sunday after the 11 AM Masses to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the New York Common Pantry. The Wallace Hall stage was transformed into a small kitchen assembly line where about 50 people made sandwiches and packed brown lunch bags with granola bars, juice boxes, and fruit.
The mission of New York Common Pantry is to reduce hunger and promote dignity, health, and self-sufficiency for New York City residents who need a helping hand. New York Common Pantry provides nearly 12 million people with meals every year. Due to federal funding cuts to non-profit agencies, our own Catholic Social Teaching outreach is more important in these times. Today, more than six thousand new households have been added to the number that seek assistance from New York Common Pantry.
Especially helpful were George and Harry Lowe and other children who were “sandwich runners.” They brought the bagged sandwiches to the table where brown lunch bags were packed to bring to the pantry. It was a community effort and conversations and laughter flowed from each table.
Supplies were exhausted in about an hour and fifteen minutes! Fresh Direct bags were packed up and loaded into Alan and Sally Pardee’s Volvo wagon and for the first time in three years all the bags could not fit in their car. Nick and Emily Lowe volunteered their minivan to help transport the rest of the bags. The estimate at NYCP is that 1,000 pounds of food—1,000 sandwiches—were made and donated by the Church of St. Ignatius Loyola!
A heartfelt thank you to all who participated and donated to this event in order to help feed our neighbors.
AMDG.
— Jean Santopatre, Pastoral Associate
November 2, 2025 Essay: At the Birthplace of ChristEditor’s Note: In his Easter letter to the Parish, Father Yesalonia announced that we have established a sister parish relationship with the Parish of St. Catherine in Bethlehem, Palestine. In September, Roxanne De La Torre and Fr. Hilbert traveled to Bethlehem for an exploratory visit to the community there, meeting with the pastor and other parish leaders, youth groups, and families. They were welcomed with warmth and joy, and they began the process of developing projects of mutual assistance and shared faith. Roxanne is our staff liaison with the Parish of St. Catherine and will be reporting regularly on the budding relationship. The essay below contains Roxanne’s moving reflections on that visit.
“We are the living descendants of Jesus, born on this very land like he was. No matter how difficult life becomes or how much we are threatened, it is our responsibility to stay.”
I was sitting in the living room of a Palestinian family’s home with a parishioner of the Church of St. Catherine’s in Bethlehem, and his wife had just served us mint tea. When he said these words to me, I had to hold back the tears that instantly gathered behind my eyes. In fact, as I recall this moment now, I’ve had to stop and restart this reflection several times to allow the emotions I had initially held back to pour out of me.
Abu (Arabic for father) had been my guide for the day, introducing me to many other Catholic families in Bethlehem, teaching me a bit of the history of the place, explaining some of the hardships and challenges that Palestinians in this region are currently facing, and treating me exactly like a treasured member of his family. The kindness and hospitality were overwhelming.
There was much information relayed and explained to me verbally during the many hours I spent with Abu and his family that day, but there were also countless other realities I came to understand just by moving around town alongside them. Random road closures were commonplace, depending on whether a checkpoint was being left open or closed by the Israeli military, so a 5-minute car ride turned into an hour-long sojourn. Permits to travel into Jerusalem (less than 30-mins away) were not being granted to Palestinians, so regretfully all hopes to have taken me to see the Christian sites there were dashed. The family’s business, a tourism company, had been devastated over the past two years of war with almost no pilgrims visiting the Shrine of the Nativity, so there was no income. And like most Christian families in the West Bank with no health insurance or other safety nets available to them, they had to rely solely on the parish for financial support, with the pastor granting vouchers for medical visits, pharmacies, school fees, grocery supplements, etc. Life was a game of survival—with “normal” day-to-day activities made increasingly more complicated by the occupying party’s strategies to wear-down the Palestinian resolve. And yet, the Palestinian spirit persists, even when the effort to maintain a semblance of normalcy was thrown into chaos.
That afternoon, as we waited for their grandchildren to arrive home from school for the afternoon meal, a shooting at a bus stand a few miles away culminated in a military lockdown of all of Bethlehem. The gates were again closed and fortified on the open-air prison where Abu’s family traces their roots, in the land where Jesus took his first breaths. We were under siege, and there was no telling how long it would last. And yet, amidst all this, the family continued to move with intention, adjusted plans on the fly, relished the moments of joy, and generously poured into me from what they had. Their God-given resilience was on full display.
Hours after all of this, as we sat digesting the delicious meal of mansaf lovingly prepared by Abu’s wife, is when he shared those words with me and I was floored.
“We are the living descendants of Jesus, born on this very land like he was. No matter how difficult life becomes or how much we are threatened, it is our responsibility to stay.”
This statement hit me like a ton of bricks. But the tightening of my chest and the collecting of tears in my eyes were not born of pity. Nor were they born of an immediate desire to find ways to help or to ease their burden in some way. In a quite visceral way, I understood that there would be little I alone could do to change the impact of war on this family.
But what moved me deeply was that these words were delivered by Abu as if they were an extension of the Creed that we recite at Mass every week. For him and his family, staying in Bethlehem, despite the injustices of occupation and the daily threat of escalating war, was simply the clearest expression of their faith and trust in God. For Abu, to remain is his calling as a Palestinian Christian—an honor and a privilege granted to him by God alone that he daily prays for the strength to uphold. These words were a beautiful outpouring of his love for God, and his spiritual reliance on God’s return of love to him and his family that keep him going. I couldn’t help but think, with all the privileges and blessings I have in this world, have I ever loved God that much? Have I ever allowed myself to just fall into the love of God in trust and surrender the way Abu has? I’m not sure I have.
As I look back on the two weeks that Fr. Hilbert and I were blessed to have spent in Bethlehem this past September, I struggle to relay the complexities of life in the occupied West Bank, and thus the processing and sharing with our community will be staggered and spread-out. But I remain ever-grateful for the opportunity for our parish to get to know the people of St. Catherine’s more deeply in the years to come, and to share a bit of ourselves with them too. I look forward to more opportunities to share these stories with you, and to having you join Fr. Hilbert and me as we continue to build on the relationships we established there two months ago. As always, the grace of how we will move forward together will be in the hands of our loving God, Inshallah!
— Roxanne De La Torre, Pastoral Associate
October 26, 2025 Essay: The Nobility of TruthIn the early hours of 16 November 1989, Salvadoran government soldiers entered the compound of the Jesuit residence that was attached to the nearby Jesuit university. They forced four Jesuit priests into the garden, ordered them to lie face down, and shot them in the head at point-blank range. They then entered the Jesuit residence a second time and killed the remaining two Jesuit priests in the house, along with the caretaker’s wife and young daughter. As the soldiers exited the premises, they left a written message near the bodies in the garden that claimed that the FMLN, a paramilitary group that had been fighting government forces, took responsibility for the murders.
The Jesuits were murdered for their efforts to find a peaceful solution to end the civil war between government forces and FMLN, a war that over the course of 12 years resulted in the deaths of 1.4 percent of the country’s population. The conflict ended in 1992. Upon the signing of a peace agreement, a United Nations Truth Commission was formed to investigate the wrongdoings that occurred during the civil war. Its findings revealed that the murders on the night of 16 November 1989 were at the direct order of the highest level of El Salvador’s military and government, and that the American Embassy in El Salvador, more likely than not, had prior knowledge of what was being planned. The government of El Salvador used its military to silence the voices of those who spoke the truth of what was happening in El Salvador. The Jesuit priests were considered a threat to those who held the power and wealth of the country. (The government officials and military commanders who ordered their murders were never brought to trial.)
Difficult though it was to learn the truth of what happened that night, it was also a balm to Father José Maria Tojeira, the Jesuit Superior at the time of the murders, who for years led the effort to discover what happened so that those responsible would be brought to justice. In his homily last November on the 35th anniversary of the murders, Father Tojeira preached about the lessons to be learned from that tragic evening. He said, “We must be honest even if we are disliked, and seek truth amid corruption…and the denial of transparency. We must also defend human rights while the blaring horns of power claim that human rights are a mechanism to defend criminals.” The overarching message of Father Tojeira’s homily was that truth matters, and we must be fearless in demanding it.
Sadly, the blaring horns of power are all around us in their effort to pervert the very meaning of truth. Its misuse is an attempt to alter reality to suit the needs of a pernicious agenda that is as far from truth as I am from the moon. The crude sign left by the government solders was an attempt to mask what really happened on 16 November. Times have changed, and the methods of deception have become more sophisticated. However, no amount of garish gold trimming, marble portals of tarnished glory, craven images on coins, or incessant bombast and orchestrated distractions can camouflage the attempt to create a reality that is anything but truthful.
There is a nobility to truth. Truth frees us from the torment of deception and lies. Father Tojeira experienced that first-hand when he discovered what actually happened under the cover of darkness in the garden of a Jesuit residence in San Salvador. If we, in our day, fail to recognize or pursue the truth, we become like Pontius Pilate who asked Jesus, “What is truth?” (Jn. 18:38.) Tragically, Pilate failed to see that the embodiment of truth stood before him, Jesus, the Son of God. In avoiding the challenge to stand up for the truth in the midst of the deceptions that overwhelm us every day, are we too denying the one eternal truth upon which our faith is based? Our inaction to confront those who govern by lies and deception tarnishes the nobility of truth and gives license to an altered reality.
— Rev. Dennis J. Yesalonia, S.J., Pastor
The Grand Finale: The Icing on the Cake…of the Tiny Homes!The Grand Finale: The Icing on the Cake…of the Tiny Homes!
When St. Ignatius Loyola Ignatian Social Justice Ministry volunteered for the first year of building tiny homes on the Cheyenne River Reservation with the YMCA Alumni National Service Project, the completion of these homes seemed far, far away.
Four years and 24 St. Ignatius volunteers later, the 2025 Wave 4 group witnessed the culmination of architect Annie Coombs, and Zoe Malliaros, and the hands of hundreds of other volunteers who built these four houses.
“What we did in Dupree, South Dakota, is like a drop falling into the sea and expanding from small circles to larger circles, all the way to infinity. This is my second year in Dupree. The first year I returned from the mission, full of dreams and melancholy for the wonderful life experience and the encounter with extraordinary human beings who will always be in my heart. This year, I returned from Dupree aware that life has meaning when it is given to others, considering the privileges of a life lacking nothing, a life that I received without merit from Our Father. It was therefore an experience that has grown me spiritually and humanly.
I thank God, the Church of St. Ignatius, Jean Santopatre, the guys from the NYC team, and the YMCA National Alumni Service Project for the opportunity and honor of having taken part in this incredible and concrete action in communion!”, commented Enrico Giuseppe Mazzon.
George Painter, the construction manager of the project for the Y Alumni, kept reminding us this year that we were “putting the icing on the cake!” Touch up painting, plumbing, landscaping, and creating the Medicine Wheel was 99% accomplished in the week. Some contractors would come after us to complete their finishing touches.
The week ended with a celebration on Lakota singer, Jackie Bird, Lakota drummers and dancer, Ohani. About one hundred people showed up for the celebration and ribbon cutting. The St. Ignatius contingent made history by being the only non-Native people to cut the ribbon on the South House.
“My time on the Cheyenne River Reservation was deeply moving and inspiring. The Lakota people’s profound sense of faith left a lasting impression on me—the way they trust in something greater, even amid hardship, is a powerful reminder of resilience. Their spiritual traditions, rooted in connection and trust, showed me how faith can be both a grounding force and a source of hope. Witnessing this, I left with a renewed appreciation for the strength that comes from faith and the trust we place in one another and in life itself,” commented Gabrielle Dougherty.
— Jean Santopatre, Pastoral Associate
October 19, 2025 Essay: Our Other Patron Saints
The recently renovated Lady Chapel is open for private prayer every afternoon from 1 PM to 4 PM. One aspect of the renovation is the masterful restoration of the reredos behind the altar. The reredos came from the Jesuit retreat house in Manhasset, NY, and features the statues of four Jesuit saints: St. Ignatius Loyola, St. Francis Xavier, and two others who might be less well known, St. Isaac Jougues, S.J. and St. René Goupil, S.J. These last are part of a group of saints known as the North American Martyrs. Their feast day is today, October 19th, and I would like to introduce them to the parish. They are collectively the Patron Saints of the Jesuits of North America.
The North American Martyrs represent a profound chapter of 17th-century missionary zeal and ultimate sacrifice. This group consists of eight French Jesuit missionaries—six priests and two lay brothers—who were martyred between 1642 and 1649 while attempting to evangelize the Indigenous peoples of New France, which now encompasses parts of Canada and upstate New York. Their lives of extraordinary commitment and their brutal deaths cemented their legacy, culminating in their collective canonization as the first saints of the North American continent.
The eight martyrs are: St. Isaac Jogues (priest), St. René Goupil (lay brother), St. Jean de Lalande (lay brother), St. Jean de Brébeuf (priest), St. Antoine Daniel (priest), St. Gabriel Lalemant (priest), St. Charles Garnier (priest), and St. Noël Chabanel (priest).
These Jesuits arrived in the New World with the sole purpose of spreading the Catholic faith. Their primary mission was among the Huron people, a group often at war with the powerful Iroquois Confederacy, particularly the Mohawk. The missionaries established their center at Sainte-Marie among the Hurons, enduring immense physical hardship as they adopted a new language and culture, traveling vast distances by canoe and foot through the rugged wilderness. They lived in harsh conditions, facing hunger, disease, and the constant threat of intertribal warfare.
Beyond the spiritual objective, the Jesuits were also perceived as agents of the French Crown, a factor that complicated their relationship with the Iroquois, who were often aligned with the French rivals, the Dutch and English. This geopolitical conflict would tragically intertwine with their evangelistic efforts, marking them as targets in a wider struggle for territorial and cultural dominance.
The first to be killed was St. René Goupil in 1642. A lay helper with surgical skills, Goupil was captured with St. Isaac Jogues by a Mohawk war party. He was tomahawked after being discovered making the Sign of the Cross over a child. St. Isaac Jogues endured 13 months of horrific captivity, during which he was tortured and mutilated, losing several fingers (the missing fingers on his statue in the Lady Chapel are not the result of careless transport but intentional). He eventually escaped with the aid of the Dutch, returned to France, but, demonstrating incredible zeal, petitioned to return to the missions, famously stating, “It would be indecent for a martyr of Christ not to drink the blood of Christ” (referencing his inability to hold the Eucharist properly with his mutilated hands). He and his companion, St. Jean de Lalande, were eventually captured again and martyred at the Mohawk village of Ossernenon (present-day Auriesville, New York) in 1646.
The remaining five Jesuits met their end in what is now Southern Ontario, Canada, during the brutal Iroquois assault on the Huron missions in 1648 and 1649. St. Jean de Brébeuf, a giant of a man and a pioneering linguist of the Huron language, along with St. Gabriel Lalemant, endured the most protracted and gruesome torture before their deaths. Their courage in the face of unspeakable agony became legendary, with their captors reportedly eating Brébeuf’s heart to gain his bravery. St. Antoine Daniel, St. Charles Garnier, and St. Noël Chabanel were also killed in the chaos of the final Iroquois raids, refusing to abandon their convert.
The collective martyrdom of these men, though ending their physical mission, served as a powerful testament to their faith and courage. In 1930, they were canonized as a group by Pope Pius XI, becoming the first canonized saints from North America.
Their significance endures for several reasons: they were foundational figures in the establishment of the Catholic Church in both Canada and the United States; their written accounts, the Jesuit Relations, provided invaluable ethnographic and historical records of 17th-century North America; and their willingness to endure suffering and death for their beliefs remains a profound symbol of evangelistic commitment. The North American Martyrs are venerated not just for their piety, but for the heroic measure of their fortitude, which transcends their specific religious context and stands as an enduring symbol of sacrificial love.
— Fr. Michael Hilbert, S.J., Associate Pastor
October 12, 2025 Essay: Faith in ActionWe encounter Jesus’ teachings about faith, cleansing, gratitude, and reconciliation in the readings this Sunday. Jesus embraced all people, no matter where they came from. In the Gospel, we see that it was the foreigner who went to Jesus personally to give thanks and praise to him and God.
After spending a week on the Cheyenne River Reservation in South Dakota with five St. Ignatius Loyola parishioners and volunteers from across our vast country, I saw faith, cleansing, gratitude, and reconciliation in action. For the past three years, we have volunteered, and this September, we spent the final week of the Y Alumni National Service Project, where we built four tiny homes on the Lakota reservation.
Here, we were the foreigners, embraced by the Lakota people who shared their history, culture, song, dance, and cleansing ceremonies with us. This last week culminated in “putting the icing on the cake,” which was George Painter, the construction manager’s mantra all week long!
Everyone found their niche and organically formed into teams to touch up each home with sanding, painting indoors and outdoors, and installing plumbing. Outdoor work consisted of staining panels for outdoor utilities, raking, seeding, putting hay down over the seeds to help the grass to grow and keep the mud, aka, “gumbo” at bay when it rained. And did it rain for two days which created unrelenting mud! The medicine wheel was outlined and will need further work to create a labyrinth. Benches painted yellow, red, white, and black depicting the Lakota medicine wheel colors will surround the medicine wheel for meditation and conversation. This will connect each Morningstar Village home and create their Tiny Home community.
By Sunday, the “punch list” was 98% finished and the entire village of Dupree was invited along with many Lakota dignitaries to the opening ceremony. Jackie Bird sang and danced while her son played the drum, Lakota drummers engaged the crowd with their Lakota songs and Ohani lead us all in a Lakota circle dance around the medicine wheel.
To witness the progress, the care from the community, the comradery of each volunteer Wave and the culmination of four houses where homeless families will now have a home reminded me that we are all the hands and feet of Jesus. I saw faith in action, we were cleansed by the holy spirit through the smudging of sage upon ourselves and the homes, the gratitude from the community and the bridge-building of reconciliation with the Lakota people was palpable. It was an emotional experience to realize we were finished with the project and it was time to leave our Lakota families.
The Lakota believe that everything in this world contains a spirit. Every rock, every tree, and every animal contained a spirit. The Lakota believe in Wakan Tanka, the supreme god often translated to the Great Spirit. One of the most important traditions in Lakota religion is the Seven Sacred Rites. These rites for the basis of their religion practices are meant to impart the seven Lakota values, prayer, respect, compassion, honesty, generosity, humility, and wisdom, on those who participate in the rights. Lakota spirituality is akin to our Jesuit values of “Finding God in All Things” and the Catholic value of the seven sacraments.
As we encounter the teachings from Jesus of faith, cleansing, gratitude, and reconciliation, so too, do the Lakota. They live in gratitude to the land that sustains them and have faith in the Creator Spirit who blesses them. They don’t hold grudges against the people who committed atrocities upon their people, they are reconciled to God and keep the sacred tradition of smudging with sage to keep the evil spirit away.
Mitakuye Oyasin– we are all related!
— Jean Santopatre, Pastoral Associate
October 5, 2025 Essay: St. Ignatius Loyola — Moving Forward with Laudato Si’The Church of St. Ignatius Loyola is a Laudato Si’ Action Platform Parish embodying the goals articulated by Pope Francis ten years ago in his landmark encyclical, Laudato Si’ – Praise Be – Care for Creation, Our Common Home. The encyclical is a compelling document founded in theological convictions that are grounded in scripture, Catholic Social Teaching, and previous papal documents. It speaks to Creation as a source of spirituality inspiring awe, gratitude, reverence, and of all right relationships. Moreover, it addresses how climate, environmental ecology, and related poverty are moral imperatives in addition to being scientific and societal ones.
The principles of Laudato Si’, emphasizing the interconnectedness of all God’s creation, were woven into the preamble of the 2015 Paris Agreement and presented by Pope Francis in his historic address to the UN General Assembly on 15th September 2015, urging world leaders to work for the common good, prioritize peace and justice, and uphold the dignity of every person. Pope Leo XIV continues the ever more urgent call of action. Pope Leo XIV inaugurated and celebrated a new formulary of the Roman Missal Mass designated as Care for Creation on July 9th, 2025. In his homily, Pope Leo called for ecological conversion, drawing from the legacy of Pope Francis and his encyclical. He reminded us that “We must pray for the conversion of many people, inside and outside the Church, who still do not recognize the urgency of caring for our common home.”
Our archdiocese has used this new Mass in its annual celebration of the Season of Creation and this 10th anniversary of Laudato Si’. On October 5th, all the Masses at St. Ignatius Loyola will also be using this new liturgy in celebrating the Season of Creation that concludes with the feast of St. Francis of Assisi. Season of Creation will culminate with Blessing of the Animals after 11 am Mass.
Our paradigm of Church requires us to transform ourselves in reverencing God’s creation and contributing both individually and as a community for a sustainable future. Adding a faith and spiritually based dimension to the scientific and societal ones strengthens the understanding of what we owe God and one another in working toward a better and more just future for all. Our parish will continue to accomplish this by our adopting a parish-wide focus on the seven goals of Laudato Si’. Within the next several weeks, we will present a revised St. Ignatius Loyola Action Plan and offer future programs to embrace the vision of an integrated ecology.
Inspired by Pope Francis, the Laudato Si’ Movement has designed a roadmap of action by establishing seven goals for Catholic and other institutions and individuals, which we will use. The goals are as follows:
Response to the Cry of the Earth
- Response to the Cry of the Poor
- Ecological Economics
- Adoption of a Simple Lifestyle
- Ecological Education
- Ecological Spirituality
- Emphasis on Community Involvement and Participatory Action
In conclusion, it is the hope that our entire parish community of parishioners, together with their families and friends, will embrace the call of Pope Francis and now Pope Leo XIV to work together toward an integral ecology that is reflected in our personal lives and the lives of our parish activities and schools.
| Geraldine Rizzo and Nicholas Naccari, Laudato Si’/ Care of Creation Ministry
September 28, 2025 Essay: Meeting Christ in Prayer: My ExperienceI was deeply blessed to participate in the Meeting Christ in Prayer retreat this past spring. The thoughtful structure, inspiring facilitators, and supportive participants made the experience truly unforgettable. Each session was carefully designed, and the weekly exercises and assignments helped me stay disciplined and intentional in my prayer life. This structure encouraged me to carve out meaningful time for reflection and spiritual growth.
One of the most enriching aspects of the retreat was being introduced to various methods of prayer. I especially connected with Lectio Divina, which allowed me to engage more deeply with Scripture and feel a profound closeness to Christ. During these prayer exercises, I often felt the presence of God in a tangible way. It was like entering into a sacred dialogue with him.
Imaginative prayer was initially a challenge for me, but with time and practice, I was amazed at how vividly I could place myself within the Gospel scenes. When I engaged my senses of sight, sound, smell, and touch, the readings came to life and helped me experience Christ’s love in a new and intimate way. These prayer practices have become part of my spiritual routine, and I plan to continue using them.
Overall, Meeting Christ in Prayer has transformed not only my spiritual life but also my personal and professional life. I feel more grounded in hope and more intentional about placing God at the center of my life above work, responsibilities, and distractions. I continue to prioritize time for daily prayer, trusting in Christ more fully and seeking his guidance in all areas of my life.
Equally powerful was the sense of community I experienced in Meeting Christ in Prayer. I felt truly seen, heard, and welcomed by both the facilitators and fellow participants. The love, acceptance, and encouragement I received filled me with immense hope, and I pray I can offer the same to others. I could not have asked for a more grace-filled group of people to share this journey with.
I am profoundly grateful for this retreat and wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone seeking a deeper connection with Christ through prayer and reflection. It is a beautiful way to encounter Christ in a personal and transformative way.
— Janet L.
September 21, 2025 Essay: The Abiding Love of God
This morning, I watched the sunrise from my window. It rose slowly, painting the skies a dull pinkish-gray before rising fully over the horizon and illuminating the homes and storefronts scattered across the hills and valleys below. The arresting view is a far cry from my typical mornings in New York City, where I usually can’t see the sunrise from my first-floor apartment windows, which are blocked in on all sides by other apartment buildings. Everything seems different here in Bethlehem, in the Holy Land—a far cry from home in so many ways, yet strikingly familiar in the most important way: in the deep and abiding presence of God’s love for all of us, even amidst considerable pain, suffering, and ongoing challenges. It is this fact that has provided the backdrop to my first visit to the Holy Land, and which has permeated all the wonderful conversations and interactions I’ve had here over the past week or so.
By the time you read this, I will have returned home and will be eagerly hoping to meet as many of you in person as possible. To start with, it has been nothing short of a joy and a blessing to have joined the St. Ignatius Loyola community at the beginning of the Summer as the new Pastoral Associate for Ignatian Spirituality and Faith Formation. The Summer provided a time for settling in, for deep reflection, and also for laying some foundations for our parish’s new sisterhood relationship with St. Catherine’s Parish of the Church of the Nativity. When I wrote this reflection from the birthplace of Jesus, my two feet were planted on the soil that the Holy Family trod on, and I was reminded (in a quite visceral way) of the depth of God’s love for us. God certainly didn’t need to enter the world in this way: in the form of a fragile child born in poverty, to parents already viewed as outcasts in many ways by their society, in a region fraught with discord and instability. No, God didn’t need to be with us in this way. However, God chose to give us Jesus because of a love so deep, so indescribably irrational, so magnanimous that it became Truth. God wanted to be with us so fully and truly that God entered humanity in this tiny, little place called Bethlehem.
“Though our Lord Jesus Christ was rich, he became poor, so that by his poverty, you might become rich.” — 2 Corinthians 8:9
As Christians, the Bethlehem of Jesus’ birth has always been part of our life stories, even if just in reference to the physical place we remember each year at Christmastime. But how wonderful it is that our parish community now gets to entangle our stories with the Bethlehem of today, to grow in faith alongside our brothers and sisters who still root themselves here, and to be able to more deeply entrench the birthplace of Christ within our own graced histories in a new & personal way.
In Ignatian Spirituality, reflecting on and sharing our “graced history” is not merely a flowery concept, but an important exercise in viewing our past and present experiences in light of God’s abundant love for us. As we recollect and examine the pivotal moments of our life, we are called to actively seek where God’s grace has been present through all the many instances of consolation and desolation. We are invited to sit in gratitude of how God lovingly accompanies us through every high and low, and how the Holy Spirit is constantly working to draw us more deeply into the fullness of our humanity.
As we get to know one another better, I am so looking forward to sharing our graced histories with each other and seeking to more fully uncover how God is working through all of us to build a stronger faith community at St. Ignatius. Let us seek one another out—as God continuously seeks us out—so that we might all grow in deeper love and continue to flourish through God’s grace that is so abundantly poured out. Mashallah!
+AMDG+
— Roxanne De La Torre, Pastoral Associate for Ignatian Spirituality and Faith Formation