Dear Friends,

It’s a great time of year, isn’t it?

While we pray for all those for whom the Christmas/New Year season brings pain, sorrow, or loneliness, we also thank the Lord for the joy he gives us in celebrating his birth, and in realizing that “Merry Christmas” doesn’t mean that everything is necessarily going well, but rather that even if everything around us falls apart, we still have access to God, to salvation, to victory over evil, and to eternal life!

That’s why we can be “merry,” and that is the basis for the kind of hope of which Pope Benedict XVI speaks in his new encyclical.

This is a time of year when we also get together with relatives whom we may not see much at other times of the year. This is a blessing.

As many people indicate to me, it can also be a cause of some sorrow. As Archbishop Fulton Sheen once said, the tragedy of life is not what we suffer. It’s what we miss.

While many are blessed with relatives with whom they can celebrate the fullest and deepest meaning of Christmas,  very many also experience the disconnect of being together with people they love who don’t share the joy of loving the Lord. Perhaps they are far from any meaningful practice of the faith; perhaps they don’t even share the fundamental commitment to the sanctity of life – without which Christmas makes no sense.

Or perhaps they just don’t understand why you’re so passionate and intense about the faith and the pro-life movement.

This problem is one of the limitations of this life that will be fully removed only in the life to come.  Meanwhile, let’s witness to our families and come together as often as possible with our friends and colleagues who share our deepest passion for the Lord.

Fr. Frank

What’s a “Difficult” Day?


We all receive the help of friends at times when they know that we may be dealing with particular problems. They will preface their encouraging remarks by saying things like, “I know these are difficult days…”

I’m sure you, like I, appreciate the encouragement.

At the same time, however, I find I usually differ with others’ assessment of what constitutes a “difficult” day.

Let me tell you what makes a day difficult for me. It’s knowing that some four thousand of my brothers and sisters, living and growing in their mothers’ womb, are scheduled that day to be chopped apart by the abortionist’s knife. Their arms and legs will be dismembered. Their heads will be crushed. Their bodies will be pulled out by forceps or sucked into a vacuum tube. The activity is planned, paid for, and legal.

As the day goes on it’s more difficult, because then I know that what was scheduled to happen has in fact happened.

And then what makes the difficulty all the worse is seeing the apathy of so many who could save them, the silence of so many who could speak up for them, and the cowardice of so many who could sacrifice for them.

I wonder why people who will try to show compassion by saying “I know these are difficult days” don’t say anything about the difficulty of living in a culture of abortion. They will recognize the difficulties that sometimes arise with relationships, with health, with finances.

But to suffer because our unborn brothers and sisters are being tortured and killed? So many of us have a big blind spot.

I get through the difficult days by committing every ounce of my time, energy, and activity to ending this holocaust, and by resolving anew each day that I will not stop doing that until the holocaust stops.

Every other challenge, difficulty, or problem – well, I appreciate the encouragement, but save it for another time. Those other “difficulties” really pale to nothing in comparison.

Fr. Frank

Congressman Hyde

When Congressman Henry Hyde passed away the other day, the nation lost another great leader. Those who follow the pro-life movement also know him as a key leader in the movement as well. He was not only a steady and persuasive voice for the unborn on the floor of the Congress, but one who yielded results that lasted – such as the Hyde Amendment, which has saved countless lives for decades by denying funds to the industry that would kill them.

I was with Henry Hyde on many occasions, in Washington and elsewhere. It was always an inspiration. The power of his words and actions as a force in Congress was matched by his kindness and attentiveness to all with whom he interacted.

As I travel the nation, I see each day the spiritual energy of pro-life activists. Henry Hyde’s example and consistent witness have been one of the sources of that energy.

He often spoke about the chorus of children’s voices that would greet pro-life activists on the day of their judgment. Now, his words have come to pass in his own case. “Thank you, Congressman Hyde! When so many ignored us, you spoke up for us. Welcome home.”