In the Chapel of the Most Holy Trinity at West Point, New York, the stained-glass windows along the side walls depict various patron saints of soldiers, among them Michael the Archangel . . . and very prominently next to the archangel, Joan of Arc, the Maid of Lorraine (France) and soldier-martyr for God and country.

— From God & Country, by Fr. Michael Cerrone

Last Easter season a new convert to Catholicism at my parish asked me with a grave tone in her voice: “Why do we call priests ‘father’ if Jesus says, ‘Call no man on earth your father, for you have one Father, who is in heaven’?” Thinking myself clever, I asked, “Do you think it’s okay to call someone your ‘teacher’ or ‘mister’ or ‘dad’?” She said, “Yes, I do.” I responded, “Well, Jesus seems to forbid that, too. So, it’s obviously hyperbole that he’s using.” She thought for a moment and declared, “Then I will stop using those words, too!” And she walked away. Not the outcome I was seeking.

A seminary professor of mine once said, “Don’t confuse enthusiasm for a virtue with the virtue itself.” How easy it’s been in my life as a priest to talk about the greatest of virtues — love — and totally fail to live up to its concrete demands!

We can learn a great deal from Mister Rogers. Remember him? He was the gentle soul who found his way into living rooms worldwide starting as far back as 1968. Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was a beloved program that celebrated and exalted people, especially children. He taught us that we are neighbors and that everyone has a place. Everyone matters. He had a vision, born of his relationship with God that highlighted every human life’s innocence, beauty, and uniqueness. To that end, he called us to be responsible for each other, saying nothing different than what Jesus said. Viewers quickly learned that life is not just about me.

From the time we are born into this world until we die, our human radar picks up signals about how to respond to life. What we picked up on when we were very young carries an even greater power. The messages we receive and process tell us what we are “supposed” to do with our feelings, how to understand and cope with disappointment, anxiety, failure, death, illness, and what to expect out of life. As life unfolds for us, these radar messages kick in and resonate in us at very deep levels. Sometimes what we have learned is helpful and sometimes it is not. The stories we have been told, especially when we are young, about how life is best lived and how to negotiate its pain carry a heavy weight.

We often act out of ignorance. Armed with the best of intentions, we think we are seeing clearly and correctly, but we are not. We don’t always understand the full meaning of things and only perceive part of the truth. Hence, our judgments and actions can be impaired by myopic, incomplete or erroneous perceptions. The meaning of life, understanding of human experience, and negotiating life’s challenges can all become skewed without proper understanding and vision. The resurrection of Christ is the corrective to our incomplete and limited view of life. Looking at things with the eyes of faith brings a depth of clarity and understanding to how we see God, ourselves, others, and the world.

A pregnant woman was walking in the store and met an old friend. Her friend exclaimed, “You are absolutely beaming!” The new life God placed in her womb radiated throughout her body. It was brightly visible on her face and in her eyes. Transformation and change usually happen from the inside out. It is very rare that simply imposing structure from the outside does any good. Yes, it is true that routines and habits can change when things are done differently. But, for this change to last there has to be an interior renewal and metamorphosis as well. Simply regulating behavior and bringing someone into conformity with accepted protocols doesn’t mean their heart and soul come with them.

If I only knew then what I know now, how different life would be. This sentiment, expressed in myriad ways, is found on every human being’s lips at one point or another. Life may have brought us to a vulnerable place where we see some of the poor choices we made and the effects they are having. Perhaps we fell into some destructive and dysfunctional relationships or behaviors and are finding how they held us captive. Our zeal and passion for life may have drifted away and we are waking up to the reasons apathy has taken hold.