Auteur/autrice : Mathilde Daniel

As our country celebrates its 250th anniversary, we find politics and a certain strand of Catholicism interwoven at its highest levels. The Supreme Court has six Catholic judges and one former Catholic, some of whom have spoken about the importance of religion in the United States in ways that feel unseemly for a justice at best and, at worst, diametrically opposed to the separation of church and state enshrined in the Constitution.

Meanwhile cabinet officials and Vice President JD Vance alike have used Catholicism to justify divisive and at times brutally inhumane decisions of the government. Vance even has a new memoir about his journey to Catholicism titled, of all things, Communion. 

More than 40 years ago, New York Gov. Mario Cuomo achieved a similar prominence for his Catholic faith. And yet, as depicted in the forthcoming documentary « Mario, » which recently debuted at the Tribeca Film Festival, he approached the balance in a very different way.

Cuomo grew up in Queens, New York, the child of immigrant parents who ran a grocery store. (Cuomo’s father had been born in the U.S., but his parents took him back to Italy as a toddler.) After law school, Cuomo took on clients whom he felt were being treated unjustly by developers and government officials. 

He hated politicians. « They never came to my neighborhood in South Jamaica, » he said. « They were never there for Mama and Papa. They never helped us one bit as far as I could tell. » And yet he was talked into running for mayor against Ed Koch in 1977.

He lost, but in the process the experience revealed to Cuomo how much he might be able to help people in government. « I think government has a purpose, » he said. « I think the purpose of government is to help those people who have been left out. » He became the lieutenant governor of the state of New York, and later governor.

What came to distinguish Cuomo as a governor was his emphasis on compassion and a helping hand. 

In a clip from an October 1982 White House press briefing, a journalist asks about the « gay plague, » at which point other journalists and the White House press team laugh.

« No, it’s a pretty serious thing, » the journalist goes on. « One in three people who get this have died, and I wonder if the president is aware of it. » In reply, Ronald Reagan’s press secretary Larry Speakes kids, « Well, I don’t have it. Do you? »

After a New York Post column showed a similar lack of concern for AIDS victims, arguing they were responsible for their own sickness, Cuomo said at a press conference, « Then you shouldn’t take care of syphilis. You shouldn’t take care of anyone who sins. You know who that’s going to leave out? All of us. »

When his adviser on these issues contracted AIDS himself, Cuomo went to him at his deathbed, held him, and kissed him on the forehead. 

Former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, who watched Cuomo similarly reach out to earthquake survivors on a state trip to Italy, said that for Cuomo « our Catholic faith carried a call to action. »

Cuomo is perhaps most remembered today for his refusal to involve his faith in his legislative decisions regarding abortion. « I can believe as a Catholic that abortion is wrong, » he said. « That doesn’t mean in this pluralistic society I must require that you believe it. » 

Prelates called for his excommunication, and he ended up no longer going to Mass because he didn’t want to create a distraction. « That killed him, » his son Chris says in the documentary.

But that situation also gave Cuomo the opportunity to talk about the relationship between faith and politics in a deeper way.

« Approval or rejection of legal restrictions on abortion should not be the exclusive litmus test of Catholic loyalty, » he said in a 1984 speech at the University of Notre Dame. « Whether abortion is outlawed or not, our work is barely begun, the work of creating a society where the right to life doesn’t end at the moment of birth, where an infant isn’t helped into a world that doesn’t care if it’s fed properly and housed decently, educated adequately; where the blind or retarded child isn’t condemned to exist, rather than empowered to live. »

It’s the same kind of language that would be embraced by Chicago Cardinal Joseph Bernardin, and later by Pope Francis. 

The Trump administration’s Catholics tend to proceed from a notion of « church triumphant, » Christianity as the cornerstone of our civilization.

In « Mario, » we’re shown a very different starting point. Rather than the religion of the victors, Catholicism was for Cuomo the faith of the underdogs, the people like his parents and their immigrant neighbors who found themselves ignored or oppressed by society. His Jesus is the one who has meals with social outcasts and challenges those who believe they are without sin.

Cuomo’s Catholicism didn’t imbue him with a sense of triumph. It made him feel like he always needed to do more to help. In his private journal, he wrote, « Every day, a thousand lost opportunities. Every day, closer to the end. If only everything we did, we did in light of that, how differently we’d act. I’m pained by so many hurts, so many mistakes, so many missed opportunities. It’s a hard game. But the game is lost only when we stop trying. »

In his speech at Notre Dame, he imagined Catholic Americans as « a people in the world transforming it, a light to this nation. » 

But the light we have to offer as Catholic Americans, he said, is not about taking opponents down or justifying any government’s policies. Rather, it means « appealing to the best in our people, and not the worst; persuading, not coercing; leading people to truth by love; and still all the while respecting and enjoying our unique pluralistic democracy. »

It’s a vision of what is possible and what is required worth remembering.

France’s bishops are strongly criticizing a « radical choice » made by French lawmakers to legalize « assisted dying. »

A watershed vote by the National Assembly July 15 legalized assisted dying, including euthanasia and assisted suicide in certain cases.

Cardinal Jean-Marc Aveline of Marseille and president of the bishops’ conference, lamented that « members of parliament have enshrined in French law the possibility of causing death. »

« This choice breaks with the long tradition of care whose purpose is to alleviate suffering and accompany each person to the natural end of their life, » he said on behalf of the bishops.

The statement, signed by Archbishop Vincent Jordy of Tours and Bishop Benoît Bertrand of Pontoise, deputy presidents of the French bishops’ conference, called on Catholic healthcare institutions to « refraining from behavior that is clearly morally reprehensible, in accordance with the dignity of all human life. »

For the French bishops, « July 15, 2026, marks a serious turning point in the history of our country. »

This is the fourth time since May 2025 that French deputies have voted in favor of the bill legalizing « assisted dying. » Senators have overwhelmingly rejected it on three occasions, and the percentage of deputies supporting the bill has dropped significantly since the first vote, but the decline was not sufficient to stop the bill from passing.

On July 15, 291 members of the National Assembly voted in favor, while 241 voted against, with 29 absentees.

The law authorizes assisted dying and, in certain cases, allows a doctor or nurse to administer the lethal substance themselves, making euthanasia legal in France. The legislation now faces review by France’s Constitutional Council before it can take effect.

The French president warmly welcomed the National Assembly’s vote, which was presented as final, in a post on X just after the vote. Emmanuel Macron had openly supported this law. He had personally promised to legalize euthanasia before the end of his second five-year term.

« In 2022, I made a commitment to pave this path with the French people, » he said July 15. « That commitment has been fulfilled. »

The bishops openly lamented that Macron had arbitrarily sided with the National Assembly’s decision, despite the numerous controversies surrounding this bill.

« The President of the Republic had announced a calm, informed, and respectful debate, but it is clear that political, ideological, and undoubtedly even economic considerations, disguised by misleading rhetoric, have thwarted this ambition, » the bishops said.

« A question so fundamental to our social contract deserved that the human, medical, ethical, and social consequences of euthanasia and assisted suicide be fully considered. »

For the bishops, one of the greatest dangers of the law stems from the fact that the principle that death can constitute a medical response to suffering has now become part of the legal heritage of the country. The choice to die can then be asserted as a right that could be extended to others.

« Experience in other countries shows that the criteria for access to assisted dying always tend to broaden, to the detriment of palliative care, » they noted.

Meanwhile, « the effects of such legislation are not yet fully measured, but they are already taking shape, » the bishops warned. « Our relationship to vulnerability, old age, disability, and illness will change, » they added.

« The poorest are likely to be the first to pay the price: not wanting to be a burden on their children or grandchildren, elderly people in precarious situations may feel pressured to die, » the prelates warned.

For the bishops today, the most immediate and concrete concern is that, if the law goes into effect, care facilities — foremost among them Catholic institutions — could face legal action if they refuse to allow euthanasia or assisted suicide to take place on their premises. As it stands, the law will require the head of the facility or department to authorize outside practitioners to perform the lethal procedure.

The bishops have therefore announced that they will « closely monitor the referrals to the Constitutional Council » that were announced prior to the vote.

On July 14, while France was celebrating Bastille Day — the country’s biggest national holiday — Prime Minister Sébastien Lecornu surprised many by announcing that he would appeal to the Constitutional Council to submit the text of this law — to which he is personally opposed — for review. He justified this final recourse by citing the lack of agreement between the two chambers, the National Assembly and the Senate. A few days earlier, Senate President Gérard Larcher had announced his intention to take the same step.

The Constitutional Council may approve the entire bill, strike down certain provisions, or issue interpretive reservations before the law is promulgated by Macron. The referral requested by the prime minister will focus in particular on the absence of a conscience clause allowing healthcare facilities — such as the Catholic nursing homes run by the Little Sisters of the Poor — to be legally authorized to refuse to provide such « assisted dying » services on their premises.

Pending the outcome of the appeal, the bishops of France have reiterated their call to Catholics in France to « bear witness that another path is possible — one of faithful presence and attentive care that alleviates physical or psychological suffering, without ever abandoning anyone. »

I have played and watched sports most of my life. But the first several weeks of the World Cup took me by surprise. I found myself inspired as Americans were uniting around an exciting U.S. national team and welcomed appreciative fans from around the world. As I was reminded there is more to life than politics and the conflict and division it brings these days, I even started to feel new hope for our country and the world. 

Ignatius of Loyola points out that it is important in the spiritual life to be aware of and even savor such experiences we have of joy and inspiration, that increase our hope and love. Reflection on such experiences can help us to understand their deeper meaning and even point the way forward regarding how we want to live in the future.

In addition to the fun of watching an exciting U.S. team and some other great games, one of the first things I noticed was that the U.S. men’s soccer team was very diverse. The most obvious difference one could see right away when watching African American and white players on the pitch together. But that is not all: Twelve of the 26 players had immigrant or diaspora roots. Their heritages can be traced to countries such as Mexico, Guatemala, Liberia, Nigeria, Ghana, England, Germany and the Netherlands. Folarin Balogun, who scored two goals in the first win and was responsible for another in the second, could play for the U.S. only because of birthright citizenship.

Malik Tillman, son of an American father and German mother who grew up in Germany, reflected on this diversity. « It’s not only in our team, I think it’s the U.S. in general, it’s a lot of different cultures, different backgrounds. And that’s also what we as a team stand for. The whole country is kind of that way, so why not the same on our team? » According to Tillman, having the experience of playing with teammates on a diverse roster also « makes it a lot easier to grow connections outside of the pitch. »

Tillman makes an important point about how playing on a team can form young people with values that influence how they relate with others outside of sport. For many young people playing on a sports team is one of their first experiences of being part of something larger than themselves, outside of their family. They have the opportunity to make friends with other young people who may be from different socioeconomic, cultural or religious backgrounds from their own. This is a value which needs to be protected when considering how to organize youth sports. 

In such contexts and with good coaching young people can learn how to develop their own skills, but in such a way that they work together with their teammates as they pursue a shared goal together. Such experiences can prepare young people to live and work with others later in life. 

In a tweet to mark the beginning of the World Cup, Pope Leo put it this way: 

Soccer reminds us of something we must not forget: life is not a race to show off on our own, but a path we learn to walk together. Anyone who does not know how to pass the ball, even if they have talent, has not yet understood the game. Anyone who does not know how to live with and for others has not yet understood life.

Speaking of living with and for others you might have noticed that ordinary U.S. citizens have been welcoming teams and fans from all over the world, who are encountering one another on American soil. I discovered on a recent trip that independent coffee shops in Kansas City were offering coffee specials that were native to the cultures they were hosting. Nearby the University of Kansas marching band was welcoming the Algerian team by playing their national anthem. 

Elsewhere the Norwegians were showing the Scots how to do the « Viking row« , and English fans were line dancing in Texas bars, while the Japanese respectfully remained after their team’s loss to collect the trash near their seats. Bostonians put on joint parties for the beer-loving Scots and the Haitian diaspora community. On Tiktok, visitors from around the world were expressing surprise at how different America is from stereotypes they had heard, and their gratitude to ordinary Americans for being so welcoming.  Iranian players, who were required by the U.S. government to stay in Mexico and leave immediately after their matches in Los Angeles, left a note in the locker room as they departed thanking LA for its hospitality. They also made a plea that « peace, respect, and friendship prevail among all nations. » 

Indeed, we were experiencing that soccer has a remarkable capacity to foster a culture of encounter. For one thing, it is fun. The research is clear that most young people start playing soccer — and other sports — for this reason. It is a form of play that is done without a purpose or a need to do it and yet we immerse ourselves completely in it. In this sense, it is a free activity. Most of us remember the fun of playing a team sport when younger and watching the sport today can reconnect us to the joy and love of the game. U.S. captain Tim Ream, the oldest player on the team at 38 who broke down in tears in the team huddle after the Paraguay win, said: « I’ve told these guys that this is the most fun, special, enjoyable group that I’ve been a part of. »

We also live in a world where it is common for people to move often and even for family members to be separated by great distances. The dynamics of the digital age lift us out of our embodied lives, and we have less face-to-face time with others. Social media algorithms help to create ideological bubbles and promote conflict, further separating us from one another. In this context, for many fans a local or national sports team can function as a reminder of place and regional traditions. And this can foster a sense of belonging and connection. Maybe this is why John Denver’s « Take Me Home, Country Roads » was such a hit for U.S. fans in this World Cup, with its refrain being sung with special passion: « Country roads, take me home, to the place I beloooong. »

The other thing about sport that allows it to foster a culture of encounter is that, contrary to war, it is based on cooperation. This is needed for something as basic as agreement on what the rules of the sport will be. The rules help to create « another world » to live in temporarily that is different from ordinary life. This is why any attempt by an external actor to undermine such rules for their own interests is considered such a serious offense. As Johan Huizinga put it: « Indeed, as soon as the rules are transgressed the whole play-world collapses. The game is over. » However, the cooperation needed in sport extends beyond the rules to scheduling, the logistics of hosting visiting teams and other matters. 

In his letter on the value of sport « Life in Abundance », Pope Leo pointed out that « the word competition is derived from two Latin words: cum meaning ‘together,’ and petere meaning ‘to ask.’ In a competition, therefore, it can be said that two people or two teams strive together for excellence. They are not mortal enemies. And in the time before or after the competition, there is usually an opportunity to meet and get to know one another. »

In his letter the pope points out that international competitions in particular « offer a privileged opportunity to experience our shared humanity in all its rich diversity. » He writes that experiences such as the opening and closing ceremonies of the Olympic Games where each nation processes in with their flag and athletes dressed in traditional garments « can inspire us and remind us that we are called to form one human family. The values promoted by sport — such as loyalty, sharing, hospitality, dialogue, and trust in others — are common to every person, regardless of ethnic origin, culture, or religious belief. »

The experiences we had of the World Cup in the first few weeks are important at this particular time in the U.S., when a narrative has taken hold in our country that diversity is our problem. And when persons from immigrant communities are sometimes demonized. A recent executive order tried to overturn our country’s laws on birthright citizenship. The U.S. is also increasingly isolated on the world stage. Our tariffs are unpopular with other countries, as is the war with Iran. Our threats to « take » other countries or territories do not sit well with those committed to the rules-based international order that emerged in the wake of World War II.

What we were learning from the World Cup in its early phase was that sport can be experienced as a human phenomenon with internal goods or intrinsic rewards. These are worth protecting from the corruption that occurs when sport is reduced to being merely a means for market purposes or in service of a nationalist or ideological agenda. This is important in the U.S. at a time when market values in youth and higher levels of sport increasingly threaten to « crowd out non-market values worth caring about » as Harvard philosopher Michael J. Sandel puts it. It is also a time when the U.S. federal government is trying to exert influence on most domains of civil society including the arts and humanities, education, museums, news programming, public media or even late-night comedy, in service of a particular nationalist agenda. International soccer is only the latest domain to be added to the list.

Ignatius emphasizes the importance of acting against (agere contra) such dynamics, which undermine the human values of sport and other domains of culture. As Leo put it: 

Yet another distortion of sport happens with the political exploitation of international sporting competitions. When sport succumbs to the mentality of power, propaganda or national supremacy, its universal vocation is betrayed. Major sporting events are meant to be places of encounter and mutual admiration, not stages for the affirmation of political or ideological interests. 

All four of my grandparents were immigrants from Italy.

For decades, I’ve tossed out that line as an interesting bit, a fact that often elicits a raised eyebrow and a « What about the name? » For the record, Roberts is the anglicized version of Rabottini, a change made in the early 1900s. 

All four of my grandparents came from two small towns along the Adriatic in the region of Abruzzo.

I can’t say those words in the same tone any longer. There’s no lightness to the remark these days, said against the backdrop of what I know is happening to contemporary immigrants. A record is accumulating that will demonstrate for generations into the future that at this point in our history the United States has become an agent of deliberate cruelty. 

I heard over the years stories about some of the obstacles my grandparents faced as newcomers escaping endless military enlistments and poverty — the crude and condescending remarks, the one neighbor who wouldn’t permit members of my mother’s family to put foot on the sidewalk in front of his house.

But there were also stories of kindness, of help from strangers, of the public schools that taught the nine Roberts kids (the first to show up spoke little English) and the eight Palladino kids. 

I think today of how fortunate they were not to have encountered the savage cruelty of armored vehicles and masked unidentified thugs accountable to no one. They didn’t face the threats unleashed today by the dangerously foolish man in the Oval Office and his subservient minions.

I know details of the story of the Roberts and Palladino clans because, in addition to the oral history handed down, one of my father’s brothers, Alfred, wrote the histories of both. He was near the younger end of the nine Roberts kids, and was the first to go to college, initially as a music major. That path was interrupted when he volunteered for the Army during World War II and served for a stint in France.

When he returned home, he changed his major to French, graduated top of his class at Ursinus College in Collegeville, Pennsylvania, not far from the farm where he grew up. He went on to a master’s and doctorate in romance languages from the University of Pennsylvania.

He was hired by what was then West Chester State Teacher’s College, where he founded the foreign languages department.

Another brother, Thomas, an accomplished musician who also served in the Army during World War II, became head of music for a school district in Pennsylvania. Facilities where each of them taught now bear their names.

Among my mother’s siblings were six brothers who established a heating, plumbing, sheet metal and roofing company that supported their families and enhanced the wider community for decades.

Those 17 kids in both families produced a small village of aunts, uncles and around four dozen first cousins. Among them and their offspring are businesspeople, lawyers, nurses, artists, musicians and a virtual battalion of educators at all levels. 

The Roberts and Palladino clans were not a one-off. They were an example of what immigrants have always done. They came here and worked hard, prayed a lot, were longtime active members of Catholic parishes. In all of it, they benefitted from a pluralist democracy, of, for, and by the people. The country eventually, at times grudgingly, welcomed and embraced them. And the country, in turn, benefited enormously.

I’m glad none of that first generation is around today to see the destruction underway at the hands of the, again, dangerously foolish man who now inhabits the Oval Office.

Welcoming Vietnamese

In the early 1980s, my wife, Sally, and I helped resettle a number of Vietnamese refugees. The last were two brothers who lived with us for a time and have remained friends and part of the family for life. 

We watched the younger one graduate from high school and college and go on to a long public service career in the Department of Defense. The older brother completed his undergraduate studies and earned two master’s degrees — one in mechanical engineering, another in electrical engineering — and spent a long and productive career in the Federal Aviation Administration.

I am glad they arrived before our national leaders began making up horrible fictions about immigrants and summarily removing even those going through immigration and naturalization processes. We didn’t have to worry back then about being out and about with people who may have looked different from the majority and who were struggling with a new language.

Not long ago, during the occasional lunch we have together, the Vietnamese brothers and other members of their families told us that for the first time, they’re carrying their passports with them wherever they go. 

Another friend, Hispanic and a member of the parish I attend, told me at one point last year that if he was missing from a scheduled meeting it might be because he had been picked up by Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents. I looked surprised. He is a citizen and works a successful job. 

He shook his head and said, « It’s just the way I look and the way I speak. » Driving is no longer a neutral activity for him or for other members of his community.

President Donald Trump, vain, amoral and devoid of conscience, understands the immediate political benefits of some of the more fevered suggestions from the likes of his Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller and those who assembled Project 2025. Trump read the dark side of the national character and realized, after that first ride down his golden escalator, that hate, constructed on a foundation of lies and racism, pays political dividends.

Vice President JD Vance, who once described the president he now serves as « cultural heroin, » has turned 180 and gone all in. He, who falsely accused Haitians of eating neighbors’ pets, has taken to advocating a type of citizen that some describe as « heritage Americans. »

It was a step too far even for Republican strategist Karl Rove, who called out the vice president in a blistering commentary in the Wall Street Journal. « The notion of ‘heritage Americans’ is at odds with the Declaration. America’s birth didn’t include a new aristocracy based on inherited valor, » he wrote. 

« One in seven American residents is an immigrant. For the other six, » he wrote, the Fourth of July « should be a day for special gratitude. Through no action of our own, we were born here, and — alongside all who made their difficult way to America — enjoy the blessings of what happened in Philadelphia in the summer of 1776. »

Cruelty, not policy

All four of my grandparents were immigrants. I have a personal understanding of the record of what this country, in all its imperfections, can mean to people willing to risk pulling up stakes to make their « difficult way » here.

The record that is accruing today is far different. It is the record of an era of intentional government brutality in which we send people to torture prisons in El Salvador, subject them to endless incarceration in prison camps in our own country, deport people to countries our own State Department warns should not be traveled to under any circumstance. Federal agents are shooting and killing suspects in our streets. The record will also include the horror stories of separated families and traumatized children.

What we are witnessing is not a change in immigration policy — a policy that certainly needs fixing and that saw a measure of extreme actions during Democratic administrations. Until Trump, after all, Barack Obama had deported more people than any other president. But this isn’t about policy. What we are witnessing today is government-directed human rights abuses that are, by any measure, immoral and gratuitously heartless.

At some point beyond the current chaos, our children and grandchildren will be able to read the accumulated record and they will have to contend with the fact that we not only witnessed but were complicit in a national era of cruelty.

I wish there were an easy, upbeat way to tie this up. There isn’t. What’s left to us is the call to resist the cruelty however we can. What’s left is whatever compassion and solidarity we can muster for those who live in terror. What we have, too, is the hope, evidenced in our past, that our better angels somehow manage to survive and carry us beyond such dark national moments.

Arguably the most influential Catholic monk since Thomas Merton, Brother David Steindl-Rast has carried Benedictine spirituality into the modern world through interfaith dialogue, conversations between science and religion, and robust teaching on grateful living. This week, he turned 100 years old.

Known throughout the world as the « grandfather of gratitude, » Brother David was born Franz Kuno Steindl-Rast on July 12, 1926, in Vienna, Austria, where Nazi occupation began when he was just 12 years old. In 1944 he was drafted into the German army but managed to escape after several months and lived underground, concealed by his mother, until the war’s end.

It was the constant presence of bombs and the real specter of immediate death that led him to the practice of gratitude, of which he would one day become a globally recognized teacher. (His TED talk, « Want to be happy? Be grateful, » has drawn over 3 million views.)

« Gratefulness itself is a real practice, » he told me in a 2006 interview. « It’s just as valid as … any other practice. It begins with a surprise. You may not even feel that you can be grateful, or you may feel that you are inadequately grateful, but stop and be surprised. Everybody can do that. » 

The early years

In 1952, at age 26, Steindl-Rast followed in the footsteps of his grandmother, mother and brothers and  immigrated to the United States. He was uncertain of his future when a friend told him about Mount Savior Monastery, a new Benedictine community in Elmira, New York. Curious, he traveled to the monastery, where he found a home among the monks living earnest and intellectual lives there. In 1953, he officially joined their ranks.

During his time at the monastery, Catholic activist leaders like Jesuit Fr. Daniel Berrigan and Dorothy Day frequently visited. Inspired, Steindl-Rast soon began to speak out against the Vietnam War, U.S. poverty and other social injustices.

The mid-1960s brought fresh opportunities following the Second Vatican Council. Steindl-Rast was among the earliest Catholic figures to engage in interfaith dialogue, first with Buddhists, and later with Jews and Muslims. In 1967 he received Vatican approval to begin serious Buddhist-Christian dialogue, then unprecedented, which culminated in the publishing of The Ground We Share: Everyday Practice, Buddhist and Christian, which he co-authored with the American Zen teacher Robert Aitken.

Harnessing the council’s fresh energy, he also began exploring theological interpretations that aligned Catholic teaching with modern science. He co-authored Belonging to the Universe: Explorations on the Frontiers of Science and Spirituality with physicist Fritjof Capra — whose work has explored the interactions among living organisms, social systems and ecosystems — and with Thomas Matus. The book won a 1992 American Book Award.

Steindl-Rast’s spiritual thinking struck a deep chord, and he became a highly sought-after lecturer. For many years, he divided his time between living as a hermit in a monastery and traveling as an itinerant spiritual teacher. 

Throughout his prolific career, Steindl-Rast has authored and co-authored more than a dozen books. Among his most popular are Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer and The Ground We Share. In 2023, at age 96, he published the book You Are Here: Keywords for Life Explorers, which he described as his spiritual legacy.

The ministry continues

Indeed, old age has not made Brother David a quieter presence.

Now living at his monastery in Austria, devoted to writing and contemplation, he has continued to speak in a public voice without retreating from the world. Gratitude, for him, remains a discipline of attention that becomes a summons to action. In recent years, the writing he shares on his website, Grateful Living, has become more political. During the 2024 U.S. elections, he urged readers to assist those who needed help getting ballots or rides to the polls. In 2025, he called readers to plead for aid to Gaza.

Brother David’s gratefulness has never meant passive contentment, but rather seeing the gift of life clearly enough to respond to it with peace, solidarity and responsibility.

In 2000, Steindl-Rast co-founded the nonprofit A Network for Grateful Living, whose mission is to « empower people to live meaningful lives through the transformative practice of living gratefully. » 

Twenty-six years later, the network’s website has become a rich focal point for thought and practical guidance, offering videos, articles, podcasts and daily gratitude quotations. The work is guided by five principles: life is a gift; everything is a surprise; the ordinary is extraordinary; appreciation is generative; and love is transformative.

According to the Grateful Living website, « Br. David has been a source of inspiration and spiritual friendship to countless leaders and luminaries around the world including Desmond Tutu, the Dalai Lama, Thich Nhat Hanh, Thomas Merton, and more. » Others include Benedictine Sr. Joan Chittister, Trappist Fr. Thomas Keating, Fr. Henri Nouwen and Ken Wilber.

Kristi Nelson, who served as the organization’s executive director from 2014 to 2022, recounted the experience of hosting Brother David’s 90th birthday celebration in San Francisco. Attendees came from all over the world. Steindl-Rast insisted on personally greeting and hugging each of the hundreds present.

« He was unfazed by the length of time it took, » Nelson told NCR. « He held his conviction that it would be unfair for people to travel such distances and not have a one-on-one encounter with him. »

Chuck Roppel, a board member of Grateful Living and a close friend since the 1960s, describes Steindl-Rast as energetic with a sense of humor. One fond memory is the time he got into his car after a visit and turned to wave goodbye, to be met with the sight of the tall, lean monk waving back, smiling brightly and wearing a large red clown nose. « So typical, » Roppel laughed.

Throughout his life, Steindl-Rast has seen spirituality and mysticism as the inner fires of religion, the driving force of its continual rejuvenation. He likens spirituality to the fiery magma that flows from a volcano, gradually cooling and hardening into rock. Similarly, religious doctrines can become rigid unless we break through the crusted rock and reconnect it with the fire within.

As Brother David turns 100, countless spiritual seekers worldwide have him to thank for keeping the fire going. 

Church unity does not mean everyone holding hands singing « Kumbaya. » It also doesn’t mean pretending a problem doesn’t exist.

Sometimes it means telling people they are out because they did not abide by the rules. 

That’s what Pope Leo XIV recently did with the Society of St. Pius X, known as SSPX, known for celebrating the Latin Mass and rejecting some of the church’s Vatican II reforms.

In a move not done lightly July 2, the Vatican announced that the SSPX clergy had brought upon themselves an automatic, or latae sententiae, excommunication because they consecrated bishops without papal approval. It also said the group was in schism with the Catholic Church and that sacraments of penance and matrimony administered by SSPX priests were invalid, and lay Catholics who « adhere formally » to the group were similarly excommunicated.

It’s not as if they hadn’t been warned that their ceremony without papal blessing would have consequences. The day before the Mass — attended by over 15,000 people at the foothills of the Swiss Alps where the group’s international seminary is located — the pope himself had pleaded with them not to do this. 

His letter to the head of the society, Fr. Davide Pagliarani, did not mince words saying the ceremony would be akin to tearing « the seamless garment of Christ » and « a sin of extreme gravity. »

SSPX leaders went ahead with their plans in a four-hour Mass and thereby cut themselves off from the church.

NCR’s Vatican correspondent Justin McLellan’s coverage of the consecrations and reaction from laypeople who attended it shows that the situation is serious and complicated. Those he spoke to might not have been NCR readers, but they certainly share our faith tradition and a camaraderie with each other over their similar beliefs. Some grew up in SSPX families and this was the only church they knew. 

Many there seemed unfazed by the Vatican’s direct edict and were confident that the society was doing the right thing.

A woman from Mexico City, for example, told McLellan she was in a place where her ideas were aligned and « no one is moving me from there, » and by no one, she meant the pope. 

Given the group’s rejection of many Vatican II reforms and its troubling history — the Anti-Defamation League describes SSPX leaders as promoting « theological and conspiratorial anti-Semitism among its adherents » — this excommunication might be celebrated in some circles. 

But we do not take a triumphant view about what unfolded. Instead, we look to the voices of those who see this rupture as a sad moment, particularly several U.S. bishops, since in the U.S., alone, there are more than 100 SSPX chapels and 28 schools.

This hit close to home for two dioceses in the Midwest.

One of the newly ordained, now excommunicated bishops, Michael Goldade, grew up in St Marys, Kansas, and for about seven years he was prior of the SSPX church, St. Vincent de Paul, in Kansas City, Missouri, which is not officially part of the Kansas City-St. Joseph Diocese but is located in its boundaries.

The bishop there, James V. Johnston Jr., said the illicit ordinations of four bishops without a papal mandate was « unfortunate and indeed, a source of grief. » The U.S. headquarters of SSPX in Platte City is also located within this diocese. 

On his Facebook page July 2, Johnston stressed concern for the SSPX members in his diocese and said he wanted to reassure them of his pastoral concern and « desire to assist you in this time of crisis. »

Archbishop Shawn McKnight of the Archdiocese of Kansas City, Kansas, which includes St. Marys, Kansas, home to what the SSPX claims is the largest SSPX-built church in the world, The Immaculata, spoke more in depth about the schism and its local impact in a July 2 statement.

McKnight called what transpired « a source of profound sorrow for the whole Church » and said it was « particularly sorrowful because the Holy See has, for many years, sought reconciliation and full communion with the Society of Saint Pius X. »  He also said the imposed « canonical penalties » were « not intended as expressions of hostility or rejection, but as medicinal measures that reflect the seriousness of the offense and are ordered toward repentance, healing, and the eventual restoration of communion. »

He urged those in his archdiocese who attend SSPX services to « know that they are loved by the Church and remain the object of our prayers for unity. » He also asked them to stay united with the pope and to seek guidance from local priests about any questions they might have about the validity of sacraments they may have received.

He also went a step further to say that the « Church’s doors remain open, and our hope remains that the unity for which Christ prayed may one day be fully realized. »

We say « Amen » to that, recognizing that the decisions of the SSPX leadership have had major implications and their actions will need to be unpacked, and in some cases, undone, if the group seeks to have unity with the Catholic Church.

Richard DeClue, a theology professor at the Word on Fire Institute who has written about the society’s history, emphasized how Catholics who share many of the group’s « concerns and confusions » will be impacted by the schism.

« Those people deserve to be treated pastorally as well, » he told Our Sunday Visitor. « They shouldn’t feel like orphans within their own Church just because they love tradition, and they love magisterial teachings from decades ago, and they love the traditional liturgy that’s part of their conciliar U.S. Church’s liturgical heritage. »

Similarly, Michael Sean Winters wrote recently in these pages, that sympathy for these faithful is warranted. But he also said: « We need have no sympathy for the men who permitted themselves to be consecrated nor those who performed the ritual in Écône. They should know better. » They should know how their leadership has led their followers to a place of schism.

Massimo Introvigne, an Italian religion sociologist who has studied SSPX, thinks that despite this rift, dialogue will resume.

« The dialogue, at least under the table, will continue, » he told Catholic News Service. « But to have a meaningful dialogue, some things should change, » he said, including changes in SSPX leadership.

And that’s what we will keep our eyes on.

Poor Graham Platner. In a self-pitying 11-minute video, the now former U.S. Senate candidate for Maine seemed to think he was the victim here, not the woman whom he is alleged to have raped. And, the « establishment » won’t let him ignore a credible accusation of sexual assault. He sounded like a teenager who got caught doing something bad.

Platner was one of a group of candidates which aims to lead the Democratic Party’s version of the Tea Party. They claim the mantle of progressivism. As a group, their distress at the Democratic Party’s failure for two generations to defend the interests of the working class is as admirable as it is understandable. But it is not clear whether they, like their Tea Party forebears, will only further polarize the country and whether they will saddle the Democrats as a whole with their own ideological baggage.

The president has focused on the least problematic part of these progressive Democrats, the fact that several are avowed democratic socialists, including the group’s avatar, New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani. The record of democratic socialism in postwar Europe is something Americans would do well to emulate. At its heart, it stands for the proposition that the common good needs to play a larger role in setting national priorities, that the hyper-individualism, and most especially the deregulation of capital, that characterized the Reagan-Thatcher revolution was a mistake. John Judis has penned an excellent analysis of the development of democratic socialism in recent years vis-à-vis the Democratic Party.

This is not merely my opinion. That noted leftie pol Pope Benedict XVI, in his 2006 book co-written with Marcello Pera, Without Roots, famously said: « In many respects, democratic socialism was and is close to Catholic social doctrine and has in any case made a remarkable contribution to the formation of a social consciousness. »

The problem with the democratic socialists is not their economics. It is their indifference to the way liberal democracy works. If they called themselves « social Democrats » they would not be such an easy target. Or, better, if they called themselves « FDR Democrats » they would put their opponents on the back foot. And there is not a single item on their agenda that requires one label over the others. One suspects that they like the fact that « democratic socialist » sounds more radical. In a democracy, however, one has to persuade, and this group of progressives prefers to hector. They speak as if their ideas are self-evident.

These new progressives like simple solutions. CNN’s KFile unearthed a series of social media posts from Darializa Avila Chevalier, the Democratic nominee for New York’s 13th Congressional District, in which she called for abolishing police, prisons and borders. She also tweeted « the pyromania associated with anarchism is very intriguing to me, » although the laughing emoji she posted after it may have taken some of the edge of an otherwise morally insane suggestion. This is the kind of performative foolishness that makes most Americans conclude the Democrats are off their rocker.

Nowhere is the progressives’ morally obtuse self-certainty more obvious, and more troubling, than in the ease with which they accuse Israel of committing genocide in Gaza. Everyone is free to criticize any decision of the Israeli, or any other, government. Former Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel delivered a master class in how you criticize an ally in his speech in Tel Aviv last week. When a person only criticizes Israel, and ignores Hamas’ responsibility not just for the pogrom of Oct. 7, 2023, but for repeatedly placing Gaza’s civilian population in harm’s way and refusing to turn over hostages which would have brought the war to a speedy conclusion, why is that? Avila Chevalier attended a pro-Palestinian rally the day after the Oct. 7 attack. There is a word for looking at a complex problem and only blaming the Jews involved: antisemitism.

When you read the letter that brought Colorado Democratic candidate Melat Kiros to national attention, you realize the depth of her anti-Jewish sentiment. After affirming the Palestinians’ right to self-determination, she states, « By conflating ‘calls for the elimination of the Israeli state’ with anti-Semitism, you delegitimize any solution that forces Israel to reckon with its colonial role in Palestine. » So, Jews, alone among the peoples of the world, do not have a right to self-determination? Her historical account of the establishment of Israel is so tendentious as to be either astonishingly ignorant or willfully deceitful. Kiros is not stupid.

Attacking Zionism, and the pro-Israel, American lobbying group AIPAC, has become a big applause line for these progressive candidates. I find it chilling. Avi Berman, president of Yeshiva University, wrote a nuanced essay for The New York Times explaining what Zionism is and what it isn’t. He connects it to a universal yearning: « From its biblical beginnings until today, Zionism has carried one of humanity’s most enduring ideas: that a people, rooted in its values and returned to its homeland, can build a society that honors faith, dignity, responsibility and hope. »

Like the U.S., Israel needs to recapture its highest ideals. Both Israelis and Palestinians need to recognize that the death of a Palestinian child is as much of a moral failure as the death of a Jewish child. Both societies need to make the equal human dignity of all a centerpiece of their policies and of the education they provide their young. Maybe, just maybe, the day will come when both sides tire of endless war. Maybe the day will come when Palestinian political leaders will, like Egyptian and Jordanian leaders, realize that a compromise for peace is better than on-going violence. How the U.S. can help Israel and the Palestinians to move forward in the quest for peace in the region is an important conversation.

That is not the conversation these so-called progressives are starting. They are feeding the most persistent recessive gene in Western culture, the morally contagious sin of antisemitism. Their spiffy social media campaigns scream « turn the page » on the admittedly moribund Democratic Party establishment. That is a message that resonates with millions of Americans. But we should not have to overlook the moral stupidity of those who claim the progressive mantle.

While there is growing awareness of the severe humanitarian crisis in Cuba, in large measure brought on by the U.S. fuel blockade, few are paying attention to the damage that decades of sanctions are inflicting on the Catholic Church’s ability to serve the Cuban people.

The United States has pressed economic sanctions on Cuba for over 60 years. Congress strengthened those sanctions through the Helms-Burton Act in 1996, extending penalties to some foreign companies doing business with Cuba. While the Obama administration partially eased sanctions, the Trump administration, particularly in its second term, reimposed sanctions even more stringently, including a prohibition on oil delivery to Cuba.

Those policies have triggered Cuba’s deep economic crisis. Not only has the United States prevented any fuel deliveries to the country — for months now — but it has also imposed such severe penalties on international businesses and aid organizations that Cuba’s entire economy is affected. The latest round of measures imposed on May 1 forced the withdrawal of the international banks through which the country does business, and forced out foreign investors in Cuba’s main industries, such as mining. Every major source of revenue to the country has now been disrupted.

As a result, the state can no longer afford to purchase the basic foods it provides to Cuban households at subsidized prices or to maintain health care or schools. The most direct cause of the acute humanitarian crisis taking place now has been the fuel embargo, which has drastically cut electricity generation in Cuba. Those cuts have caused frequent and prolonged blackouts and affected every aspect of the economy and infrastructure, especially hospitals, including of course those caring for children.

I saw a different Cuba nearly two decades ago.

In 2007, while serving as president of Fairfield University, I led an academic delegation to Cuba. Academic exchange was then one of the few legal avenues for Americans to visit the island. During our week there we met scholars at the University of Havana, journalists and medical professionals.

As a Jesuit, the most memorable part of the visit was spending time with the Jesuit community at Havana’s Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Their historic downtown parish showed signs of decades of neglect — neither the Jesuits nor the archdiocese had money to maintain it — but their spirit was hopeful. They believed that dialogue with the Cuban government was gradually opening opportunities for the church to expand its pastoral ministry.

That optimism was visible at the Pedro Arrupe Center, a newly established Jesuit retreat house — in what once had been one of Havana’s wealthier neighborhoods — that had recently been restored with international Catholic support. The Cuban Jesuits had been able to reestablish an important Jesuit spiritual ministry right in the middle of Havana. This could not have happened without the government’s knowledge and acquiescence. So despite longstanding tensions, the church and the Cuban government had begun finding limited ways to coexist.

The high point of our visit was meeting Cardinal Jaime Ortega, the archbishop of Havana. Ortega was guardedly optimistic that patient dialogue offered the best hope for expanding the church’s freedom and service. He famously facilitated the visits of three popes to Cuba: Pope John Paul II, Pope Benedict XVI and Pope Francis. He also facilitated the restoration of diplomatic relations between the United States and Cuba in 2014, acting as a go-between at the request of Pope Francis, with President Barack Obama and Cuban President Raúl Castro. During his three decades leading the Archdiocese of Havana, he oversaw the restoration of churches, strengthened the Cuban bishops’ conference and opened the first Catholic seminary building constructed in Cuba since the 1959 Cuban Revolution.

But today, those gains are under severe strain.

In January, Cuban bishops warned that worsening energy shortages and economic hardship were falling most heavily on the country’s most vulnerable people. They wrote that « Cuba needs change and the need is increasingly urgent, but it does not need more anguish or suffering, » urging governments to resolve their differences « through dialogue and diplomacy. »

In February, Pope Leo XIV echoed that appeal, calling for sincere dialogue that would avoid increasing « the suffering of the dear Cuban people. » In May, Cardinal Michael Czerny, prefect of the Dicastery for Promoting Integral Human Development and a frequent spokesperson for the pope, emphasized that lasting solutions come through dialogue, international cooperation and respect for human dignity rather than measures that deepen suffering. He said that the pope has reminded us that « no stable order can arise from the force of arms or from pressure that humiliates peoples. »

The Cuban government recently announced expansive economic reforms, lifting restrictions on investment, corporate ownership and trade by private actors. Rather than directly distributing resources to manage the economy, the state will introduce a system of taxes and incentives.

But these reforms cannot do much to mitigate the tremendous damage being done by the U.S. sanctions. No amount of greater economic efficiency within Cuba can make up for the fuel blockade, the collapse of the electrical grid and the freezing of Cuba’s trade partners. All this affects basic necessities including food and water. Sr. Noemy Ayala, a Carmelite Sister of St. Joseph living in Havana, told National Catholic Reporter, « We have to live with the uncertainty that the power could go out at any moment … and when it does, we have no water because the pump cannot get started. »

The church experiences Cuba’s hardships alongside everyone else. It has been recently reported, for example, that the sisters who bake the hosts for Holy Communion for most of the parishes in Cuba can no longer provide them because they cannot use their ovens due to lack of gas and electricity. Churches have appealed abroad for assistance simply to celebrate the Eucharist.

Meanwhile, parishioners increasingly arrive seeking not only spiritual comfort but basic necessities.

Bishop Arturo González Amador, president of the Cuban bishops’ conference, reported, « There are people who come in saying they haven’t eaten in days and don’t know who to turn to. Food cannot be preserved due to the lack of electricity, and recently there have been frequent fainting spells during (church) services because many people haven’t eaten. »

None of this means the Cuban government bears no responsibility for the country’s crisis. But it is the current U.S. policies — which quite literally reduce the country to a preindustrial condition — that are making daily life unbearable for ordinary Cubans.

We Americans must realize that when we punish Cuba, we do not punish only the government. We punish the most vulnerable: the sick, the elderly, children, the poorest of the poor. And as Catholics, we should realize that we punish our brothers and sisters in Christ, even as they try to serve those in need, and we hinder the mission of the church. And this is precisely at a time when the church is finding its way to being an agent of change for this troubled and suffering country.

The church has become one of the few institutions capable of accompanying vulnerable families, providing humanitarian assistance and creating space for dialogue. Policies that further weaken the church’s ability to carry out that mission ultimately harm the very people the United States says it wants to support.

Jesuit Fr. Jeffrey von Arx is president emeritus of Fairfield University. 

Do women have a different approach to Augustinian spirituality than men? The historical dearth of women’s writing on the topic makes it difficult to know for sure, and while male Augustinian friars lead active lives, Augustinian nuns are mostly cloistered, living as something of an enigma throughout time.

Still, Augustine’s Rule is applied equally, regardless of gender. Both men and women are called to live in common, forsaking private property and obeying their superior. All are asked to serve one another in charity and to forgive one another as they hope to be forgiven. All long for spiritual beauty and together engage in an insatiable search for God. 

When the Order of St. Augustine was founded in 1244 in Tuscany, it consisted of mendicant hermits who were lay men. Pope Innocent IV gave them the Rule of St. Augustine, and they became what we today call the Augustinians. It is not clear exactly when women religious were first aggregated to the order; this history is not well documented. While St. Augustine himself was cautious of being alone with the opposite sex and communicated with them through letters, that correspondence indicates a great respect for the female theological mind.

Fortunately, the Augustinian tradition has four canonized female saints whom we can look to, learn from and petition: St. Monica (circa 332-387), St. Clare of Montefalco (1268-1308), St. Rita of Cascia (1381-1457) and St. Magdalene of Nagasaki (1611-1634). Unfortunately, none of these women left any of their own writing behind, so we are reliant on their male contemporaries for their stories. We are left to fill in the blanks.

St. Monica

Monica, the mother of St. Augustine of Hippo, is depicted in the Confessions as a devout Christian woman who handled her husband’s anger deftly, impressed St. Ambrose with her faithfulness and cried many tears on her son’s behalf. In Augustine’s telling, she was dutiful and devoted — both to her son and to God.

Monica, as far as we know, was never formally educated and likely married around the age of 12, according to the norms of the time; she lived as a widow for over a decade and died at about 55 years old. When she was very ill before her death, she broke with Roman funerary custom and told her son to bury her where they were staying in the port city of Ostia, rather than back in North Africa by her husband’s side; she knew it did not matter where her earthly body would be buried, so long as her soul would be reuniting with God.

St. Clare of Montefalco 

At just 6 years old St. Clare of Montefalco joined a hermitage built by her father, where she and her older sister Giovanna lived as Franciscan tertiaries; later their community grew into a formal convent of nuns under the Rule of St. Augustine. Giovanna died shortly afterward, and at 23 years old, Clare was elected abbess of the convent.

Deeply prayerful and humbly penitent, Clare was a cloistered mystic with a particular devotion to the passion of Christ. According to Clare’s first biographer, Berengario di Donadio di Saint-Affrique, she received a stigmata in her heart following a vision of a pilgrim Christ carrying the cross and seeking a fitting place to plant it.

Upon her death, Clare’s surviving sisters wished for her body to be examined for sainthood immediately, but she was not canonized until 1881 by Pope Leo XIII.

St. Rita of Cascia

St. Rita of Cascia had hoped to take up religious life but her parents wished to see her married instead. Obedient, Rita wed Paolo Mancini and had two sons. After nearly 20 years of marriage, her husband was killed by a rival family. Her sons died not long after.

Rita, widowed and childless, requested to join an Augustinian convent in Cascia, but the nuns there required her to broker peace between the warring families first. Rita did so, among many other miraculous things, for which she is known as « the saint of the impossible. » Like Clare, she too was devoted to Christ’s passion and received a stigmata, hers on the forehead from the crown of thorns. The first biography of her life, written by Fr. Agostino Cavallucci, was not published until more than 100 years after her death. St. Rita was canonized by Pope Leo XIII in 1900.

St. Magdalene of Nagasaki

Magdalene’s parents, both devoted Christians, were martyred when she was around 10 years old. When two Augustinian friars arrived in Nagasaki in the early 1620s, she sought them out and became their interpreter. Moved by their spirituality, she became a tertiary of the Order of Augustinian Recollects. Magdalene taught catechism to children, begged for alms for people in poverty, visited the sick and modeled remarkable hope and perseverance in the face of adversity.

When persecution of Christians continued to intensify in Japan, Magdalene sought refuge in the hills of Nagasaki before voluntarily turning herself into authorities as a follower of Jesus Christ. After 13 days of extreme physical torture, she died as a martyr at only 23 years old. She was beatified by Pope John Paul II in 1981 and canonized among the 16 martyrs of Japan in 1987.

What would we know of these women if they had told their own stories? How would they describe Augustinian spirituality and its importance in their lives? We do not know, but from their silences, we can hear a call to search for truth.