Monthly Archives: January 2026

Reflecting on John 1: 29-34

I don’t generally think of John the Baptist as a dreamer, or a star-gazer. But today he admits to seeing a vision: I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from heaven and remain upon him.  

Why do these biblical figures have visions and dreams, and we don’t? My great Denver friend Fr. Pat Dolan thinks that modern humans have “evolved” away from the deep gifts of intuition and “seeing” that was common to the ancients. Two thousand years ago, the great Baptizer met Jesus, reluctantly complied with his wish to be baptized, and then actually saw the Spirit descend upon him.

But here’s the thing: I think we, too, often see the Spirit descend. Think of your favorite homilist. Don’t you “see” the Spirit descend when he digs deep into the scriptures and gives you something rich and beautiful upon which to meditate?

Watch your friends with their grandchildren. Years and years of parenting seem to have given them a sixth sense about how to listen to these dear ones, how to truly “see” them, and how to navigate their temporary whining and bring them back to that gentle place of delight and content that makes being with them such a joy.

Or think of the musicians you know. Watch them sit down at the piano and take mastery of it. Can you see the Spirit descend? Think of any person you love, really. Aren’t there many times a day when you “see” the Spirit descend as they bring kindness into the world?

Make this the year when you pay closer attention to the Spirit’s “descent.” Chances are, the Spirit hovers over you all the time.

What person in your life seems to have the Spirit’s presence always?

Kathy McGovern ©2026

Reflecting on Matthew 3: 13-17

He says many fiery things in the gospels, this cousin of Jesus. He rants about broods of vipers trying to escape the coming wrath. He rails against adulterous Herods and their adulterous wives. But the sentence I most associate with him—other than his embryonic announcement of the Messiah from his mother’s womb—is what he says about Jesus: I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals. It touches me deeply that, at the height of his renown in the desert, he was willing to step out of the frame so that Jesus could come into perfect focus.

Oh, to see Thee more clearly, Jesus. I long for it. The entire Catholic Culture presses me to see You in Your most distressing disguise, those who are poor in all kinds of ways. I try not to know about them, but, of course, that will be a ridiculous defense when I meet you. I will never be able to say I didn’t know.

Maybe I try not to know because I so deeply recognize that I’m not worthy to loosen the sandals of those whose lives are so challenging. I couldn’t do for one day what aging grandparents are doing to keep their imperiled grandchildren safe and sheltered. I know I couldn’t do for more than a few hours what those caring for spouses and parents with dementia do, endless day after endless day.

I am aware of the giants around me. But this year, I resolve to look for Jesus in the daily courage of the unseen, people whose challenges I could never, never meet. Step into the frame, Jesus. I long to see You.

Who are the people whose sandals you are unworthy to loosen?

Kathy McGovern ©2026

Reflecting on Matthew 2: 1-12

We have finally arrived at my favorite feast of the year. I find myself speeding through Advent and the first two weeks of Christmas so that we can finally remember those courageous (and curious) Magi, that blazing STAR, vicious Herod, and the brave Mother and Father who, like millions of migrants today, risked their lives in order to shepherd their precious Child to safety.

I love that the Magi (probably Persian astrologers) knew NOTHING of Judaism, but left their entire lives behind to “traverse afar” to seek a King whose birth must surely be heralded by that bright, bright STAR.

I love that they were so unaware of the reputation of the King of Judea that they actually asked Herod, upon being summoned by him, where they could find this “newborn King of the Jews!” How could they not have heard that he, driven by ruthless paranoia, killed his beloved wife Mariamne and two of their sons? THIS is who they’re asking about a newborn King?

I love that the STAR they had seen at its rising moved just ahead of them, and then stopped over “the place where the child was.” I had that experience once, driving down a dark highway in the fog at 10 pm. Out of nowhere, a large truck moved ahead of me, put on its brights, and stayed just in front of me until I was close to home.

I love that they brought the very gifts prophesied by Isaiah: gold (kingship), frankincense (incense used in priestly anointings), and myrrh ( a prefigure of his death).

Mostly, I love that we are called to seek him, too. A very wise thing to do.

What touches you the most about this feast?

Kathy McGovern ©2026