MSI Press Blog

  From Morning Prayer: “God of mercy, may our celebration of your Son’s resurrection help us experience its effect in our lives.” The Church never treats the Resurrection as a past event we simply remember. It is a present power we are meant to experience . This short prayer from Morning Prayer is deceptively simple, but it carries a profound invitation: the Resurrection is not only something Christ underwent — it is something meant to take effect in us. What is that “effect”? 1. The Resurrection restores our hope The first effect is interior: a shift from resignation to hope. The Resurrection tells us that no situation is final, no darkness is absolute, no tomb is truly sealed. When we pray this line, we are asking God to let that truth sink into the places where we have quietly given up — the relationships we think cannot heal, the habits we think cannot change, the grief we think we must simply carry alone. 2. The Resurrection reorders our identity If Christ has risen, then deat...

  If you’ve spent any time online in the last few years, you’ve probably seen two very different claims about mRNA vaccines. One paints them as a breakthrough in cancer treatment. The other whispers that they might cause cancer. Both ideas travel under the same banner, but they couldn’t be more different. And for anyone living with cancer, recovering from it, or simply trying to stay informed, the noise can feel overwhelming. So let’s slow it down. Let’s separate the science from the static. 1. The hopeful side: mRNA as a cancer treatment This is the part of the story that deserves more attention. mRNA technology—the same platform used in COVID‑19 vaccines—is now being adapted to teach the immune system to recognize and attack cancer cells . Not in theory. In clinical trials. In real patients. Here’s the simplest way to picture it: Cancer cells carry mutations that make them look slightly “off,” but not off enough for the immune system to notice. An mRNA cancer vaccine delivers t...

  For families, Alzheimer’s begins as a question: Is something changing? It’s not a single moment of realization but a gradual noticing—a pattern that feels off, a conversation that loops, a familiar task that suddenly seems foreign. At first, loved ones fill in the gaps, offering reminders, finishing sentences, smoothing over missed details. It feels like helping. It feels like love. And it is. But it’s also the beginning of a long adjustment. The early stage of Alzheimer’s asks families to hold two truths at once: the person they love is still here, and something within them is quietly shifting. That dual awareness can be painful. It can make ordinary interactions feel uncertain—when to correct, when to let go, when to step in. Families often describe this phase as living in two realities: one anchored in memory, the other in adaptation. What helps most is understanding that the disease changes process , not personhood . The person remains—their humor, their preferences, their r...