Beginning the Season of Advent

Fr. David Barnes • November 29, 2023

From the PastorDear Friends in Christ,

A couple of years ago, I went to a monastery for my yearly retreat. Before arriving, the nuns sent me a contract to sign. It was not a contract for how much I would have to pay to be a guest, but rather a contract stating that I would not speak with them or with any other person at the monastery! Perfect silence (with the exception of the necessary instructions upon my arrival) was expected. The monastery provided me with a two-level cabin in the woods. On the ground floor was a nook for eating meals in private, a bed, a small bathroom, and a kitchenette. On the second floor was an oratory with three icons, a wooden kneeler, a desk and chair, and a small table–upon which I offered Mass each day and reserved the Blessed Sacrament. For five days, other than a few deer who would show up to graze near my porch, I had no contact with anyone. I didn’t check email, messages, the news, or voicemails. It was GLORIOUS! Sometimes we find prayer difficult. This was one of those occasions when I felt like I just couldn’t stop praying. Even as I write to you now, I imagine myself up in that simple wooden oratory.

Today, we begin the holy season of Advent. It begins quietly and simply. A single flame is lit. In a world given over to fanfare, noise, distraction, and the bombardment of constant sound, Advent’s quiet beginning could at first glance seem underwhelming. Shouldn’t we do something flashier, something that will really grab everyone’s attention? And yet, it is precisely this quiet, simple, almost imperceptible flicker that draws our attention. It awakens in us a desire for something greater than the world has to offer. It stirs in us a longing for what is not ephemeral, but eternal.

If we are humble before the Liturgy, we can learn from it. The Sacred Liturgy is not in competition with all of the other noise in our life. The Sacred Liturgy stands confidently on its own. It stands in contrast to the noise of the world. The Sacred Liturgy in its noble simplicity invites us to encounter God Himself. God did not come into the world in the big cities, in the palaces of the powerful and famous. He came into the world in the womb of a poor girl from an outskirt town that almost nobody knew about or cared about. He came in silence.

As we light this first candle of Advent, we are reminded that the light is coming into the world. God is doing something. God works in silence. He draws us close to Him in silence. He meets us in silence. And in this silence, we begin to perceive slowly and gradually the presence of Christ. It moves us to be filled with a consoling and strengthening hope. Little by little in Advent, another candle is lit, a little more light fills our life.

As we live this Advent, perhaps a gift that we could give to ourselves and to one another is the gift of silence. Maybe reduce the noise in our life so that we can hear the voice of God speaking to us. Arrive for Mass a bit early and spend time in quiet prayer. When in the church, recall that it is a sacred place and observe reverent silence, affording others the gift of silence so that they too can encounter the Lord in prayer. Stop by church during the day and spend some time with the Lord. Silence can be an oasis for us; a place to drink in the Presence of Christ.

That small candle that begins burning today is for you. It burns as a reminder that God wants to do something in your life. He wants to encounter you personally. He wants to speak to you, personally. That candle is inviting you to draw close to the Lord as he draws close to you. The Word comes to us in silence. I pray that all of us receive the gift of silence this Advent so that the Word can find a ready welcome in our souls.

Your Brother in Christ,

Fr. David Barnes

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Pastor's Notes

By Fr. David Barnes June 25, 2026
The following is excerpted from a letter that Pope Leo wrote to young people attending a conference. I thought it was something worth sharing. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. Barnes Dear Friends, If you had met Saint Francis on the streets of Assisi in the thirteenth century, he might have looked at you with a serene and loving smile, and said: “Pace e bene,” that is “Peace and all good.” This was the way that Saint Francis often greeted people, and it expresses one of the desires in his heart. We too can ask ourselves: Do I desire true peace for those who come into contact with me? Do I treat others in such a way that brings them peace? Now, you may say that this is not always easy. Sometimes our behavior, even toward those whom we most dearly love, can bring frustration and conflict rather than peace. We must bear in mind that Saint Francis was able to sow peace not because of his own efforts, but because he possessed within himself the source of true peace. I have often repeated that peace is a gift from God, a gift we receive when we invite the Lord into our heart. We are then called to become instruments of his peace, spreading it to our families, our communities, our countries and the whole world. Saint Francis was also known to be a particularly joyful person. He delighted in the beauty of creation, in God’s infinite goodness and mercy, and in the conversion of sinners. And yet, you may be surprised by how he once explained what perfect joy is. One winter evening, as he was walking back to Assisi with Brother Leo, one of the first members of the Franciscan order, Saint Francis began to give a long list of apparently “good” things that do not lead to perfect joy. At a certain point, Brother Leo finally exclaimed, “Father Francis, I pray that you will teach me about perfect joy!” In his response, the saint described a tragic situation that implied suffering cold, hunger and rejection — the opposite of what you would expect — and added that if such difficulties are embraced with patience, without complaining and with love for God, “This is perfect joy.” Is it really possible to have joy in such difficult circumstances, we might ask? It is only possible if our life is founded upon our relationship with God as a loving Father. Indeed, the joy of Saint Francis — the joy Saint Francis was speaking of — cannot be found through electronic devices, spending hours in front of a screen or endlessly scrolling on social media every day. These activities often waste precious time that could be used for moments of silent prayer, of cultivating authentic friendships, spending quality time with family, learning more about our faith, studying or playing sports. Joy should never be sought through drug use, alcohol abuse, promiscuity, superficial relationships, obsession about our image, or any kind of damaging behavior. Surprisingly, neither can it be found in goods such as wealth, beauty, fame or even health, for one day we will leave all of this behind. Only the love of God can provide us with true and perfect joy. If we have the profound conviction that God cares for us as his beloved children, we will not be flustered or discouraged, even in difficult situations. Many of you have heard since you were little that God loves you. But do you really believe it? You are precious in God’s eyes! (cf. Is 43:4) You are unconditionally loved by him! Are you certain of this? If you cultivate a trusting relationship with him, through regular prayer, through reception of the sacraments, if you abandon yourself into his hands, then anxiety, or sadness, and loneliness will fade away as his grace fills you and as his love inflames your heart. This is the secret to being able to face challenging circumstances with a smile. Open your hearts to discover this reality. So Saint Francis’ message, and mine, is simple: true peace and perfect joy are gifts from God that come when we open ourselves to him and trust in his power to transform us. What can we give him in return for such great love, for such generous gifts? Nothing but ourselves! Today, the Lord needs missionaries to spread the word to those who do not know him, holy men and women to begin loving Catholic families, priests to be spiritual fathers and ministers of the sacraments as well as religious men and women to be witnesses of the true joy of his kingdom. If you have a sense that the Lord may be calling you to one of these vocations, do not close yourself off or turn away in fear, but take a step forward and say to the Lord, “Here I am, send me!” (Is 6:8). At the same time, do not be afraid to talk to someone about it, a trusted friend, priest or religious sister. I wish all of you a fruitful conference, praying that in these days you will be filled with Christ’s love and come to know other young people who desire to give their lives completely to him, and in so doing, find true happiness. Entrusting all of you to the maternal intercession of Our Lady, Cause of Our Joy, I gladly invoke upon each of you the divine blessings of peace and strength. Leo XIV
By Fr. David Barnes June 17, 2026
The other day I went to the barber and sat down in the chair. There were two young barbers working and a young guy in the other chair. The barber asked, “Any big plans for the weekend?” Dressed in shorts and a golf shirt, I answered, “I work weekends.” I wondered if that would be the end of it, but he quickly followed up with, "What do you do for work?” From that point on, both barbers and the guy in the other chair peppered me with questions about Catholic life. They occasionally apologized for asking so many questions, but for me, it was an edifying encounter. I found it extraordinary that three young men were all quite comfortable and interested in engaging in questions about the Faith. It was, for me, further evidence of an interesting phenomena taking place in the culture today. Whereas in the past, people in those situations would assiduously avoid expressing even the slightest interest in religious questions, today there is not only an openness to questions of Faith, but there is a clear hunger for something more. Many young people (and especially in this particular moment, young men) recognize that those who raised them in an environment of no Faith or in a lukewarm practice of Faith, did them no favors. There is a desire in them to reclaim what was either lost by them or withheld from them. In the past, perhaps if I were in a situation like that, if there were any questions at all about Faith, it might be merely a thousand questions about this moral teaching or of that moral teaching. It was more about controversies. But nowadays, what I seem to encounter is more fundamental. It strikes me more as people who are basically asking, “What must I do to be happy? What must I do to be good? What exactly is Catholicism?” I think for many people in their late teens, twenties, and thirties, they feel like they are in a rut. They feel like something is missing in their life, but they don’t know how to “get” what they are lacking. For many, they feel like they wasted valuable time and now, they’ll never get it back. They might feel like they are irrevocably defined by the bad decisions and bad actions of the past. They feel–even at a young age–that the course of their life is chained to one (or more than one) bad decision of the past. Either that, or they live in such a way that life is just a series of disassociated events. It is a way of living that has no consistency or ultimate meaning. One of the surprising things I discovered while working with college students is that there was a deeper humility and honesty present in them than there was among previous generations. I found college students in recent years to be forthright, honest, and humble about their life. They weren’t concerned with appearing good. They actually wanted to be good, even if they didn’t know how. They didn’t begin every confession with disclaimers about, “I am basically a very good person.” They just said their sins matter of factly. The fact that there is openness, honesty, and hunger among young people makes for fertile ground for the Gospel. The “more” for which they are searching is available to them in Christ. Their desire to be good, their desire for a coherent life, their desire for meaning, for forgiveness, for hope . . . all of this is discovered in Christ. What I find particularly amazing in this moment is that we are not trying to give people answers to questions that they are not asking. They are asking questions and searching for answers. They are hoping that their life has meaning, that they are not imprisoned by their past, that there is hope for their future. For many of them, life has been built on foundations that lack certitude. They desire to have a life built on a rock foundation. Those people do not necessarily need a theologian, a philosopher, or a Catholic Dictionary. What they need is to encounter a person whose life becomes a proposal to them. They need a friend, a mentor. They need someone who is caught up into the life of being a disciple of the Lord. They do not need someone who has stifled the desires of their own heart and settled for a humdrum, mediocre, boring religion. At the same time, they don’t need someone who is just attempting to manufacture emotional religious highs. Instead, I think, they need someone who possesses even more desire than they do. They need to encounter someone who has discovered a Presence who–instead of crushing the desires of the heart–awakens them and testifies to them, “What you are seeking, is possible.” Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes
By Fr. David Barnes June 10, 2026
The other morning I was reading an essay by a very erudite and masterful spiritual writer named bishop Erik Varden from Norway. Something he wrote really struck me. He was speaking about how the present culture desperately desires hope and that, because of this desire for hope, the culture often tries to provide imitations of hope. The line that struck me was this: “Yet hope cannot be decreed as strategy. It must be born.” There is a temptation in all of us to manufacture hope with a command. “Everything will be fine. It will all work out.” That is not hope. That is just wishful thinking. Instead of instilling hope, manufactured imitations merely mask the hopelessness. We all know from experience that everything does not always work out the way we wish. Does that mean that in those situations there is no hope? This is why hope “must be born,” not decreed or manufactured. True hope is something that enters into the world (into our heart) and takes root and grows almost imperceptibly. It is something that awakens in the heart and is able to grow in the midst of hardship, frailty, and darkness. True hope does not deny or gloss over the pain that is present in one’s heart. In every human heart there is present, in some form or another, the regrets of the past, the pains of the present, and the fear of the future. Simply decreeing that “everything will be fine,” is not a sufficient substitute for hope. Also, true hope is not the result of something that we construct and implement. Just as artificial intelligence is not “life,” so artificial attempts to replicate hope fall short. Hope is rather something that springs up in the midst of the harshness of the surroundings. If the meteorologist came on the television and decreed, “Winter is now over,” it would do little to satisfy us. We would look out our window on March 22nd and it would still be cold, dark, and snowy perhaps. But, when we see those first greens beginning to push up from the earth, even though all around us there is still present the harsh realities of winter, our hearts are already beginning to live as though summer were here. In each one of us there are still the effects of the winter. To deny or to ignore this, or to decree it to be otherwise, is not in conformity with what we know to be true. The Church, instead, seeks to be a sign of hope in the midst of these realities. When we live the friendship of the Church together, something begins to awaken in our hearts and begins to grow, even in the midst of our afflictions. This is what hope is. When the dawn begins to break, it does so while the darkness still surrounds us. In those moments, we live differently. We live in the full expectation that what has only just begun will indeed come to fulfillment. Hope helps us here and now, relying upon God’s strength, to seek an arduous but possible good. Hope exists in, what one hymn refers to as, the valley of tears. Manufactured hope tries to compel us to believe what we know deep down to be untrue. True hope always seems to surprise us. It is born of a certain simplicity. For example, I see a parishioner in her nineties showing up for Mass on Sunday. Unexpectedly, I am surprised by hope. Her witness awakens something in me and I think, “Christ is true.” Or, I see a young person who somehow–in the midst of today’s culture–has encountered Christ and is striving toward living as Christ’s disciple. This awakens a deeper hope in me. It is not something I give myself. Instead, Christ’s Presence at work in these persons awakens within me a deeper certitude. What we live together does not offer a quick fix to every broken heart. Instead, what I see in our life together is that–even in the midst of this world’s real travails–we are already beginning to live in that New Creation that Christ came to establish. When I look at all of you and see you striving to grow in holiness, living together in friendship in Christ, and loving one another, I see the signs of that New Creation, the New Day. When we allow Christ into our lives and we live together as his friends, something surprisingly new, alive, and indomitable begins to grow in our midst. That is hope. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes
By Fr. David Barnes June 3, 2026
One of the things I really enjoyed about my seven years at the Boston University Catholic Center is that the Catholic Center was physically located in the center of campus life. It was a place where students hung out, ate, studied, socialized, prayed, served, and grew in friendship and faith together. In times past, the parish church was something like that. It stood in the midst of the neighborhood where people lived, worked, socialized, and raised their families. The parish was the hub of people’s lives. Today, unless one is very intentional, the hub of people’s lives can be located in an online world that often only gives the appearance of community. It was not unusual to hear graduating seniors express fear that when they left the Catholic Center, it would be difficult to find a parish experience that replicated the intense community life they had been sharing with one another. They were going to miss having a place where they could just “hang out” in the middle of their day with other young Catholics who were on fire for their Faith. They also worried that they would not be able to find a parish where there were other young adults. The answer we would often give to those graduating students was this: Go and build it. Truth to be told, many of these young people were experts in building community. They cared for one another and worked to draw others into their friendship; a friendship that always was rooted in Christ. In fact, I’m so happy that some of those former students are parishioners here and they are still building community. Why do I mention all of this? Sometimes, as I’ve said many times before, Catholics can have a “consumerist” kind of mentality. You hear things like, “Know what this parish should have?” What that usually means is, “Know what someone else in this parish ought to do for me?” There can be an attitude that because I drop a few bucks in the collection, I expect to be served, entertained, and placated. One of the things I most appreciate about the parish community at St. Patrick’s is that people here are dedicated to building the parish that they want. Last week’s parish cookout was a great example of that. A few men from the parish did not say, “Know what we should have? We should have a parish cookout.” Instead, they said, “We would like to organize, advertise, shop, set up, host, cook, and clean up.” And that is exactly what they did. Even though it rained in the middle of it, I don’t think anybody minded. It was just a wonderful, fun-filled, day of friendship. Even the scramble to get all the chairs inside when the rain poured down became a visible sign of community. It was a sight behold; an army of folks getting hundreds of chairs from the lot to the inside in under a couple of minutes! I thank all of those who put so much into providing such an extraordinary day for us. Building community does not always require such a massive undertaking. It does not even require something to take place here at the parish building. It happens when people meet each other at Mass and have a meal together. It happens when two or three parishioners meet up for coffee. It happens when an elderly or infirm parishioner receives a visit from another parishioner. Building up a strong Catholic community is not rocket science. It does, however, take intentionality, boldness, and a certain ingenuity. It means one family noticing a new family at Mass and saying, “Oh, who are you guys? Nice to meet you. After Mass, we bring our kids out to play at the playground if you’d like to join us.” And just like that, our community has been strengthened. There are certainly differences between a Catholic Center on a campus and a parish church. There, kids stopped by in between classes to visit the Chapel, grab a cup of coffee, take a nap, or to play with my dog (Finbar, my German Short-haired Pointer who was the best dog ever!). Once a student found the Catholic Center and courageously crossed its threshold, I’d say there was a 95% chance they’d wind up making that community their home for their college years. The love and faith they experienced there would win them over. I’d say for us, our big day is Sunday. It is the primary day when all of us are here together. It is the moment for us to engage one another. But, what happens here on Sundays should then overflow into other moments to build up our community. Some of those moments may happen on the parish grounds, but they shouldn’t be limited to that. Friendship is a real key to evangelization and to building community. I am grateful that so many of you are not sitting around waiting for others to provide something. Instead, by the grace of Christ, you are intentionally and charitably building a place for others to encounter the friendship of Christ. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes
By Fr. David Barnes May 27, 2026
Last Sunday, with the celebration of the Solemnity of Pentecost, the Season of Easter came to its completion. In preparation for Easter, we lived the Great Forty Days of Lent. It was a time to prepare our hearts. As I have mentioned before, the way that all of you entered into that season was really moving. I will not rehearse all of the things I’ve said previously, but will simply say thank you for the great example you provided during the Lenten Season. It was extraordinary. Then, Easter arrived. During those seven weeks of Easter we listened to the Acts of the Apostles and heard how the Church at its beginning spread the Gospel to both the Jews and to the Gentiles. The Church grew in numbers and people came alive in Christ. These realities were not simply relegated to the time of the Apostles. We see that same reality present here in our midst. Our Easter began on Holy Saturday night when the numbers of the Church grew through Baptism, Confirmation, and First Communion. And now, the Easter Season concluded, the Church moves into what is known as “Ordinary Time.” I’m not sure I particularly like that name. It can give the impression that it is the “blah” kind of time. That is not what we mean when we call it “Ordinary.” That name arises from the latin word, “ordinalis” which simply means a series of numbers. The root word is “ordo” from which the English word, “order” arises. So, that is why we say, for example, that this is the “Ninth Week in Ordinary Time.” We will now be in Ordinary Time until the First Sunday of Advent. (Just to add another layer of confusion, however, even though we are in Ordinary Time now, this Sunday and next Sunday are major solemnities; The Solemnity of the Holy Trinity and the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ.) The Month of June is dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Catholics have long dedicated the Month of June to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. This year, on June 11th, the bishops of the United States will consecrate our country to the Sacred Heart. I encourage each family to consecrate themselves to the Sacred Heart as well. The Solemnity of the Sacred Heart is on June 12. Why not come to Mass that day and cultivate a love for the Heart of Jesus? There are various ways to live out Devotion to the Sacred Heart, including the “Enthronement of the Sacred Heart” and the “First Friday Devotion. During June, I hope to provide some information on those things, but you can also just look it up! In other news, this past week, Pope Leo XIV issued an important encyclical letter on Artificial Intelligence. I was struck by the amount of worldwide attention it received. I have only read a third of the encyclical at the time of this writing, but I am looking forward to making my way through the rest of it. From what I have read thus far, the letter draws attention to the centrality of the dignity of every human person and it cautions against anything that might infringe upon that dignity. As Artificial Intelligence continues to develop exponentially, the Holy Father is calling all of us to reflect upon the moral principles that should guide the development and use of these technologies. Technology ought to serve the human family and the dignity of the human person, not attempt to replace them. And, the Holy Father cautions against a sort of idolatry of technology in which we are tempted to place all our hope in false promises. He is not condemning these technologies, but he is insisting that any technology ought to serve the dignity of the human person. Those are just some quick thoughts on what I have read thus far. Lastly, at the Masses I had last week, I invited anyone who is not yet confirmed to contact us so that you can receive this important Sacrament. Why deprive yourself of this great gift? A few people already contacted me about it. So, if you fall into that category, please reach out. Let’s get you Confirmed! And, same goes for baptism. Parents and grandparents: Don’t delay having your children baptized. Sometimes people talk about scheduling the baptism for six months from now when “so and so” will be in town. I know you’d like “so and so” to be there, but it is more important that the baby be baptized as soon as possible. Baptism unites that baby to Christ and makes her a sharer in eternal life. It’s more important to have the baby baptized than it is to find the perfect time for it. Get it done!! Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes
By Fr. David Barnes May 20, 2026
There seems to be within us a gravitational pull towards shallowness. We become anesthetized by superficiality and lulled into a banal existence. It is easier to scroll through endless memes than to spend time thinking about any one thing deeply. It is easier to scroll through endless photos than to visit a museum, to listen to a jingle than to a symphony, to adopt quick and easy political slogans than to wrestle with complicated questions, or to binge watch shows than to read a book. At times, it feels like enormous effort is required to resist the black hole of nothingness that wants to swallow us. There is something in us that is pained by beauty, goodness, and truth. We flee from them because it is as if these things were calling out to us and reminding us that our life–and reality itself–is far deeper and grander than we can begin to imagine. When we encounter beauty, goodness, and truth, they pierce and wound us. They do not solve the ache of our hearts. Instead, they deepen that ache. They awaken in us a greater awareness of the Mystery. They make us long for more beauty, more goodness, more truth. The meme or the slogan basically says, “Here it is. Now you don’t have to think anymore.” Sometimes we seek to be distracted from our heart’s questions rather than living those questions. We are afraid to be with ourselves, so we throw ourselves into a thousand activities. We are afraid of the questions our hearts ask. We see this even in our desire to help others. When someone is suffering or grieving, we tend to want to give them the solution that will put an end to the questions of their heart. We somehow expect that by saying, “Well, she’s in a better place now,” that that should put an end to the person’s grief. Platitudes and moralisms can become, in a sense, the memes of the spiritual life. “Try harder. Be better. Let go and let God. It is what it is.” In our desire to “solve” the questions of the heart, we attempt to stifle the heart. I think this is why at funerals there is such a temptation to declare immediately that every person who has died is in heaven. The grieving heart at the moment of death is filled with profound questions: “What is the meaning of life? Where is God? How could God allow this to happen? Where is this person now? What about the sins this person committed? Will I ever see this person again?” There is always a temptation to eliminate these questions as if the mourner’s heart requires an urgent solution. So, instead of entrusting this person whom we love into the Paschal Mystery and seeking comfort in Christ, we just declare that the person is in heaven now. Instead of allowing Christian Hope to enter and provide its healing balm, we attempt to eliminate the human heart from the equation. We basically say, “Stop asking such profound questions. Let me give you a platitude instead.” Sometimes I watch television shows like “Law and Order.” There’s a predictability about them. There’s a crime, an investigation, an arrest, and a conviction. It all happens in sixty minutes. Everything is resolved. Done. But life would be rather ho-hum and boring if everything were so neatly packaged. Christianity is not a list of moralisms or platitudes designed to silence the cry of the human heart. Christianity does indeed answer the deepest questions of the human heart but not in meme-fashion. Instead of attempting to solve the mystery of our existence, it draws us more deeply into that mystery. Christ did not come to give us the answers to an exam question. It is in and through His friendship that–slowly and over time–our hearts are awakened and our life is revealed to us. Last year, I read a beautiful novel entitled, “Olav Audunsson.” The main character possesses elements of illumined goodness and shadowy darkness. Throughout, the effects of grace, but also of sin are present. Every time the resolution to his difficulties is within reach, it escapes his grasp. God does not magically end the tension of Olav’s life. It is in and through the circumstances of Olav’s life that God works, slowly and over time. Sometimes, we might wish our life were more like the sixty-minute television episode where things are all resolved before the commercial break, but that would get old, fast. Instead, our life is a long novel. It involves twists and turns and elements of light and of shadows, the effects of our sins and the sins of others do not magically disappear. So too, in hidden, unseen ways, grace is at work, drawing us along. As we enter into these beautiful months of the year, let’s pray that we might resist that urge towards shallowness, and instead be drawn by the friendship of Christ into that deeper way of life that truly awakens and answers the cry of our heart. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes
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