Author name: Molly Hostetler

In my role as the director of a silent hermitage retreat center, I am convinced that if there is one area where many of Christ’s followers neglect to imitate Him, it is in the regular practice of going away to a deserted place to spend time in silence with Our Creator. We imitate Him in other ways. We’re baptized. We participate in the re-presentation of the Lord’s Supper each Sunday. We receive Christ through His Word and the Eucharist. We practice charity, supporting others in need. But many, many of us fail to imitate Christ in the practice of withdrawing regularly as He did, to the desert, and as he invited his disciples to do as well.

It was the Bible that made me read the Fathers.

When I was studying for the Presbyterian ministry, I wanted to understand the world where Jesus lived and where the apostles preached. I wanted to defend the New Testament canon against its latest round of challenges, for example against those who would place the newfound “Gnostic Gospels” on the same footing as Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

Matthew, more than any other Gospel, is constantly making connections to that Old Testament story. Some scholars say he makes hundreds of allusions to stories, prophecies, prayers and teachings from the Jewish Scriptures.

No one treats Mary like a queen more than Catholics. We honor her as our royal mother in numerous ways. We sing the famous “Hail Holy Queen enthroned above . . .” When we pray the Rosary, we honor Mary as the crowned queen in the fifth glorious mystery. All over the world, statues and paintings express the Blessed Mother’s royal office by portraying her with a crown on her head. We even have a special feast day dedicated specifically to celebrate her queenship over heaven and earth (August 22).  

In their wedding vows, a man and woman make a gift of themselves to each other. They promise fidelity and the whole of who they are as persons. This mutual gift then becomes the basis of the whole of their life together—their communion of love. This gift is remembered and expressed in a unique way in the bodily language spoken in sexual intercourse.

Matthew tells of Herod’s decree to kill the young male children around Bethlehem. Jesus escapes with his parents to Egypt only to come back to Israel later, after an angel appears to Joseph, telling him, “. . . those who sought the child’s life are dead” (Matt 2:20).  

When Kimberly and I first entered the Church, we noticed one thing—that Catholics didn’t read the Bible.
But our faith is biblical. In fact, our liturgy is steeped in Scripture. To be fully Catholic, we must know the Bible.

Can there be a greater gift than God becoming man so that humanity could be reunited with God? Gratitude for that greatest Gift has been the inspiration for other gift-giving at Christmas.  

For most readers of the Bible, reading a genealogy is about as exciting as reading a telephone book. Yet this is exactly how the entire New Testament begins in chapter one of Saint Matthew’s Gospel: