MSI Press Blog

  From Morning Prayer: “Now let the new Jerusalem draw forth new sweetness from this hymn." “The New Jerusalem” refers to the heavenly city described in Revelation 21–22 — the final, restored creation where God dwells fully with humanity. It’s not a physical city on earth but a symbol of the world made new, the Church perfected, and the fulfillment of God’s promises. 🌿 What “the New Jerusalem” means in Christian prayer When it appears in Morning Prayer (especially during Eastertide), it’s pointing to: The final dwelling of God with humanity — “Behold, the dwelling of God is with the human race.” A renewed creation — no death, no mourning, no pain. The Church in her perfected, glorified state — the Bride prepared for Christ. The fulfillment of the covenant — everything God promised Israel brought to completion. It’s the destination toward which the whole liturgical year leans, especially in Easter: not just resurrection back to life, but resurrection into a transformed creat...

  There are days when the silence feels holy. And there are days when it feels cruel. I once prayed daily for two months with someone who was drowning in spiritual darkness. He despaired. He was tempted to do harm. But the night passed. Slowly, quietly, it lifted. And he emerged with light in his eyes. I was grateful. But I was also haunted. Because I’ve read the letters of Mother Teresa. I’ve seen what it means when the silence doesn’t lift. When the night stretches into decades. When the soul keeps loving, keeps serving, keeps praying—and still feels nothing. It seems unfair. Why should one soul suffer for fifty years while another finds dawn in eight weeks? Why should consolation visit some and bypass others? Why should the God who promises presence feel so absent? I don’t have answers. But I do have stories. I’ve seen the light return after two months. I’ve seen it flicker after years. I’ve seen it hide behind caregiving, grief, and quiet fidelity. And I’ve seen it burn...

  Today, October 18th, marks Dhanteras , the first day of the five-day Diwali festival celebrated across Hindu communities. It’s a day of light, healing, and preparation — not just for festivities, but for resilience. Traditionally, families honor Lord Dhanvantari , the deity of health and Ayurveda, and Goddess Lakshmi , who brings prosperity and clarity. Homes are cleaned, lamps are lit, and symbolic items — from gold coins to humble brooms — are purchased to sweep away poverty and invite renewal. But in 2025, Dhanteras feels especially poignant. The world is aching for healing — physical, economic, spiritual. And this day reminds us that ritual is infrastructure . Lighting a lamp isn’t just tradition; it’s a declaration of hope. Buying a broom isn’t just custom; it’s a gesture of stewardship. In our own interfaith household, where Franciscan hospitality meets practical caregiving, Dhanteras becomes a quiet invitation: to honor the tools that sustain us, to bless the systems w...

  NO JUDGMENT “Mercy triumphs over judgment.” --I James 2: 13   “Love is a many-splendored thing,” the popular song celebrates. Romantic love arises from the heart and expresses its beauty. St. Paul echoed these sentiments when he described God-like love (agape): “Love is patient; love is kind. Love is not jealous, it does not put on airs, it is not snobbish. Love is never rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not prone to anger; neither does it brood over injuries. Love does not rejoice in what is wrong but rejoices with the truth. There is no limit to love’s forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure. Love never fails….There are in the end three things that last: faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love.” (I Corinthians 13: 4-13) Love is such a profound, unspeakable mystery, that its definitions often include what it is not. Love is like a beautiful tapestry with many colorful threads. These threads, carefully woven together, are the man...