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Nicholas Hardesty

Nicholas Hardesty

I work with some amazing people. I’m talking one-of-a-kind people. Passionate, on-fire-for-the-Lord people. Honest-to-God disciples on mission. It’s rare, awesome, and a complete honor. But, it has also been very humbling and convicting, and it has made me realize that I have a lot of learning and growing to do. 

Made for Mission

One thing I’m trying to get better at is praying over people and trusting the messages that I receive in prayer. Sometimes I think I’m not cut out for it. Isn’t that the sort of thing that prophets do? I don’t typically think of myself in those terms. But, as a baptized Catholic, I’m certain it’s what I’ve been called and equipped to do.

When I was a baby, a great thing happened. The priest anointed the crown of my head during my baptism and initiated me into the mighty, three-fold office of Christ. I was made a priest, prophet, and king, just like Jesus. This means that praying with people and sharing with them a word or phrase that I receive from God – I was built for this. You were, too. We all were, when we were baptized!

So, I’m trying to seize the moment and heed the impulse to pray with people and share a truth with them. I think I recently had a breakthrough.

Going for It

A few weeks ago, I joined a team of colleagues and local parishioners for a four-day training on evangelization and missionary discipleship. One of the evenings was reserved for Eucharistic adoration. When we arrived, the Eucharist was already exposed and worship music filled the air. I knelt down and, before long, I heard a young woman I know. She was kneeling somewhere behind me and she was sniffling, like she was crying but trying to hold it in.

As I listened to her, a thought came to me: “God loves her so much.” When I first heard this, my response was, “Well duh.” God loves her. It’s not exactly rocket science. In fact, it’s almost absurd in its simplicity.

Then I panicked. Do I tell her? Surely, she knows already, right? Plus, we know each other, but we’ve never shared anything deeply personal like this before. Will she think I’m a creeper? I wasn’t sure what to do.

But, the more I knelt there, the more I became overwhelmed with this thought: “God loves her so much.” Finally, when I couldn’t resist anymore, I decided, “I’m going for it, I’m telling her.” So, I went over to her, knelt down beside her, put one arm around her, and said it exactly like I heard it: “God loves you so much.”

When she heard me say that, she leaned into me and just cried, for a good amount of time. I thought to myself, “Ok, she doesn’t think I’m a creeper. So far, so good.” Once she started to compose herself, I asked her, “What’s on your heart?” and she shared with me what she was struggling with that night.

What a gift she was, so open, honest, and precious, just laying it all out before the Lord and me. We talked for a little while. Sometimes the only thing I knew to say was what I had already told her. But, it seemed to help, and when it felt natural to do so, I returned to my seat.

His Simple Instrument

That moment has really stuck with me. I’m so thankful that God still wants to use me. I’m so glad that I could make this young woman’s heart feel better.

I’m also wondering: How often in the past has God tried to use me and I wasn’t listening to Him, I was afraid, or I didn’t trust the word He gave me? How else might God use me to bring prayer, healing, and even a prophetic word to someone who needs it?

How might He use you?

 

Nicholas Hardesty

Some people are difficult to love. They’re needy, they get angry quickly, they’re very picky about things, they have a lot of baggage. But, for me, that’s easy. It’s not difficult for me to be a friend to others. It’s loving me that’s the hard part. How can I be as patient and kind with myself as I am with other people?

I think Jesus is slowly teaching me how to love myself the way He loves me. One day, while using language about myself in prayer that the Lord would never speak towards me, a voice burst through my thoughts and said, “WHAT are you doing? WHY are you speaking to my daughter like this?” I immediately started making defensive excuses:

  • “Well this daughter is so sinful. Don’t you know?”

  • “Don’t you remember just last week, what I did?”

  • “Don’t you know that I know better?”

  • “I am called to be better than my peers because I KNOW better. But I’m not.”

Then I felt ashamed. Did I really just ask the Creator if He knew what I had done? I looked up and saw the Eucharist exposed in front of me, and above that, a painting of the Annunciation. In my shame, I turned my face from Jesus, only to see the 20-foot crucifix on the wall beside my pew. Of course He knew. He knows what I’ve done and what I’ll continue to do, and He still died and makes Himself present for me.

I have such a temper, but Jesus is so good, and so gentle. He lets me vent. “Jesus, I don’t know what to do about this.” And in typical me-fashion, instead of giving Him just a moment to speak into me, I immediately started praying about something different. A friend of mine had asked for prayer. When I pray for my friends, I like to really enter into a time of just reflecting on them as a person, and thanking God for them, and basking in all the things that make them who they are. The reasons why I love them.

During this process, a thought came to me, “Why don’t you just talk about yourself this way?” I literally gagged at the thought. Self-love doesn’t come easy for me. But, I knew it was from the Lord, so I decided to try, for Him.

I took the time to discern the voice I used on myself, versus the voice I use on others. I prayed about where these voices stem from, and what is good and bad about both of them. I looked to Scripture, reading the Psalms, Wisdom, and Song of Songs, looking at the language that God and His beloved use for one another. Then I turned to the Gospels, and saw how Jesus spoke to and cared for His disciples.

It wasn’t easy, and still isn’t. But I’ve realized, there’s no way I can be an open vessel for the Lord to use me to the greatest potential if I don’t even believe myself capable of being used for His goodness. In my head I know that Jesus loves me. But, deep within my soul, I’m still wrestling with what it really means to be a beloved daughter of the Father.

Lord, give me the eyes to see me as you see me, and the heart to love me as you love me!

 

Sarah Rogers

A few weeks ago I did something I’ve never done before: I worked a food truck. A friend of mine owns one that specializes in gourmet hotdogs. I happened to be on vacation on a day when he needed extra help, so I jumped in and got to work.

Check out this menu:

  • Chili Cheese Dog (hotdog with chili, melted or shredded cheese, and chopped onions)

  • Kraut Dog (hotdog with sour kraut and brown mustard)

  • Mac Dog (hotdog with pablano pepper mac and cheese, dried onion and jalapeno straws, and campfire sauce)

  • Cheeseburger “through the garden” (with all the toppings)

  • Street Corn (grilled corn-on-the-cob brushed with lime mayo and sprinkled with Cotija cheese and chili powder)

  • Bottled water and flavored soda

As you can imagine, customers were lined up all night. For about six hours straight, I did a little bit of everything: grilled burgers and corn, dressed the hotdogs and the corn, grabbed drinks, refilled the napkins, burnt a finger or two, chatted with the customers, and sweated half-to-death. It was definitely more than I prefer to work while on vacation.

But, you know what? It was the highlight of the entire vacation for me. Why? Because there’s something surprisingly thrilling about doing good work with good workers.

I manned that hotdog stand alongside five other people. We were crammed in a tiny space, doing what needed to be done. Toasting buns, grilling meat, turning the corn, taking the orders, trying not to get dehydrated – we were all in it together. We were united by a common goal (to help a great friend make great food), and we were determined to achieve it, come what may. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

When I finally got home around midnight, my body was tired but my mind was racing. The experience of working that truck with such dedicated people got me thinking: Why can’t evangelization be this invigorating? Why can’t “seizing the moment” and “making disciples” be this invigorating? And then I realized: When I do that sort of thing with someone else, it is that invigorating!

When I think about approaching strangers, or even friends and acquaintances, to talk to them about faith, or Jesus, or the Gospel, it’s scary. I have to work up the nerve to approach them. I play out in my mind what I’m going to say so that I don’t sound stupid. I worry about sounding stupid anyway and not knowing what to say. I worry about rejection. Worry, worry, worry.

But, every time I have intentionally evangelized or discipled others alongside another missionary disciple, it has been exciting and life-giving. My eyes open a little wider. My heartbeat quickens. I can’t wait to see what will happen! I wish every Catholic could feel what that’s like.

If you truly want to be the kind of disciple that Jesus is calling you to be, but you’re too afraid to “step out into the deep,” then find someone else who is eager-but-afraid and do it together. Go out to the park, or the farmer’s market, or the nearby parish festival and just see what happens. Share the load. Take on this awesome adventure together. Succeed. Fail. Laugh. Have some great conversations. Have some awkward conversations. Get yourself a little team together and figure out what works.

You think my friend’s food truck was firing on all cylinders on day one? Of course not. They had to slip up, burn some buns, run out of ingredients, lose their roof in a thunderstorm (that happened too while I was there), and generally fail in dozens of small and big ways until they finally got it right.

But, they were willing to put in the work. And, when they got it right, it was a heck of a lot of fun.

 

Nicholas Hardesty

The idea of mortification seems like one of those odd Catholic practices from the Middle Ages. Despite how imposing it sounds, chances are you are mortifying yourself as you read this article. During Lent we all abstain, fast, and give things up. Yet Lent is not the only time we should do these things. If done in the right way, these discomforts help us to grow in personal holiness. Even the most seemingly insignificant actions can be acts of mortification that help us to grow as disciples.

Mortification is not only profitable for our own life of discipleship; it is also a powerful tool for evangelization.  Our sufferings can be offered up for others (Col 1:24).

My late grandfather, Frank Dix, was a true Missionary Disciple. It is not uncommon for people to come up to me and recount stories of how he prayed with them, how he shared his faith with them, or how he went of his way to love others, especially those who needed it most.

I once was told that he was prone wear a rosary in his shoe. Not one to sit still, he was always running house calls for St. Vincent de Paul, or fixing cribs for Elizabeth New Life Center, or putting his skills in construction to use in one way or another. A rosary in the shoes had to be a constant discomfort to say the least! I used to think this was extremely weird, but now I wonder about all of the silent prayers he made throughout the day as he offered up that mortification. As I hear people recount stories of how he touched their lives, I wonder how many of those opportunities were the fruits of offering up his mortifications for others.

Don’t think that I’m encouraging you to put a rosary in your shoe. I do believe, though, that small acts of mortification can be used not only for our own growth in holiness but as an offering up for those people in our lives that God is asking us to evangelize.  Looking to do a little more?

5 Easy Mortifications that Don’t Require a Rosary in Your Shoe

  1. When you find yourself in a frustrating situation, make an effort to smile; be patient and lenient with others. Take that frustration and offer it up.

  2. Don’t hit the snooze button. Offer up that last 15 minutes of sleep and take the time to pray, especially if you don’t feel like it.

  3. Resist the urge to check out Facebook or surf your favorite blogs when you are at work or at home. Instead return to your work with renewed effort, or take the time you gain to spend with your family.

  4. Yield in matters of personal preference with joy. Be so eager to do so that others don’t even recognize that you would rather not.

  5. Prayer can be mortification, especially when you really don’t want to pray. Finish up that last decade of the rosary, carve out the time to make it to the Stations of the Cross, get up early to go to Adoration.

The Church is constantly telling us, “We must make disciples. We must evangelize.” You know it. I know it. We all know it. But has anyone ever articulated to you what exactly it is that we’re supposed to be saying to people?

I think a lot of times we Professional Church People just assume that our fellow Catholics know what the Gospel message is, when I’m not so sure that’s a safe assumption. In fact, I know it’s not. We can’t very well “seize the moment” if we don’t have that crucial bit of information. So, let’s figure out what the Gospel is!

The Facts of the Matter

There are many different ways to articulate the Gospel message, but they all contain similar themes. If we were to gather all the data surrounding the instances of “gospel” and “good news” in the New Testament, then this would be a faithful summary:

Jesus is the Son of God,
and He died on the Cross and rose from the dead
to save us from sin and death,
and to bring us into the Kingdom of His Father.

It’s a mouthful, I know, but anyone who proclaims the Gospel is trying to tell the world who Jesus is, what He did for us, and why He did it. This way of saying it addresses all of those concerns.

  • Who is Jesus? “Jesus is the Son of God.”

  • What did He do for us? “He died on the Cross and rose from the dead.”

  • Why did He do it? “To save us from sin and death, and to bring us into the Kingdom of His Father.”

Theologians call this “the objective content of the gospel.” No one can become a disciple of Jesus until he possesses this content. But, this doesn’t exhaust the gospel message. It also has a subjective element.

The Other Side of the Story

The subjective content of the gospel is our own story of becoming true believers and followers of Jesus. It’s a story of mercy, repentance, and reconciliation – and it can be mightily persuasive in the lives of those who hear it.

For one, everyone loves a good story. Stories capture our attention. They inspire. They change our minds and teach us something. When the story is about God working in our lives, then all this is doubly true.

This kind of story also answers the question, “Why should I care?” – and it does this in a way that is non-threatening and hard to argue with. After all, who would question our own lived experience? And since it’s our story, it’s easier to proclaim. There’s nothing to memorize. It can come right from the heart and our own history with God.

And when people discover how God entered into our ordinary, messy lives and changed us for the better, they will begin to consider how God might fill their lives with His goodness, too.

Every Disciple Has a Story to Tell 

At this point, you may be wondering, “What if I don’t have a dramatic conversion story?”

That’s ok.

You don’t have to be Paul, knocked down on the road to Damascus, life radically transformed from wretched sinner and persecutor of Christians to passionate disciple of Christ.

  • If you’ve ever made a decision for Jesus instead of for fleeting pleasures, then you have a story to tell.

  • If you’ve ever felt God’s presence or experienced something work out in a mysterious way, then you have a story to tell.

  • If you’ve ever experienced victory over anything — a bad habit, an addiction, an abusive relationship, a debilitating illness, a wound from your childhood, etc. — then you have a story to tell

When you look back on your life with the eyes of faith, I think you’ll find that it is filled with moments of God entering in and making things new. That is your story.

Your Time Is Now

Maybe you can see God working, but you’ve never made an explicit decision for Him. Maybe you’ve never decided, “I want to live differently now.”

Well, today is the day. Seize the moment! What are you waiting for? Seriously, what in the world are you waiting for?

Nothing in this world can give you what God can give you, which is fulfillment in Him. You’ll taste this fulfillment here and there in this life. You’ll have it finally and forever with God in heaven. All that remains is for you to say yes.

Receive new life in Him, and then share this life with a world that so desperately needs it. That is the calling placed on the life of every Catholic.

 
Nicholas Hardesty

Coverage of the Notre Dame fire has ascended to the ranks of the world’s top headlines and has thus occupied the attention of Catholics, non-Catholics, and former Catholics this week – Holy Week – a week generally marked by the discovery of a “lost gospel,” the release of the latest Dan Brown novel, or mall-sightings of the Easter Bunny.

It seems, at least for this Holy Week, as the evangelizing Church stands on the doorstep of the Paschal Triduum and prepares to come face to face with her most sacred mysteries, the media has flipped the script, giving the world occasion to talk about and collectively mourn this universally regarded tragedy.

Church, we have on our hands a unique evangelization moment!  It’s likely in the days ahead that Notre Dame Cathedral will be the subject of work-time small talk, an informal discussion among friends, or Easter Sunday dinner conversation. You’ll find yourself with opportunities to make comments, to weigh in, to express sentiments of an understood grief, and to ask questions.

It’s not a teaching moment – not even a catechetical moment.  Or, I should say, not merely a catechetical moment. It’s an evangelization moment!  Don’t miss it.

Why Does Notre Dame Matter?

In that moment, what will you say? Relating the latest news on the extent of the damage, the dollar amount raised to date for the rebuild, or even the priceless items that were spared or rescued (however heroically) will likely not be enough.

Instead, something more fundamental must be addressed: Why does Notre Dame matter?

First, it must be acknowledged that Notre Dame does matter.  People are upset. Non-Christians are upset. The common experience is one of a deep sense of loss and the word tragedy has been used somewhat incautiously with little opposition.

Yes, some will say, “It’s just a building,” but such a response doesn’t seem to do justice to people’s experience. Rather, a certain value-response is considered appropriate, if not expected. Why?

As Catholics, we recognize Notre Dame Cathedral to be valuable first because it is the arena of the Holy Mass, where the Eucharist is consecrated and celebrated! It’s more than a tourist attraction or a national treasure. But for the non-believer it’s precisely that; a museum, a cultural icon, an architectural feat, nothing more. And yet the value-response we’ve witnessed this week seems to far exceed these descriptions. Why?

Although there’s much to be said on this question, I think one point is most helpful for evangelization, especially pre-evangelization: Notre Dame matters because it is beautiful.

Someone might say, “The destruction of Notre Dame is not a real tragedy.” Certainly, no one died and it would be all too easy to point to other tragedies involving a loss of human life (i.e., the evil of abortion, wars, terrorist attacks, etc.) that would be worthy of our prayers, financial support, and media coverage. But this is a false dichotomy. Life and what makes life beautiful (i.e., love, art, poetry, leisure, culture, liturgy, worship, etc.) are not at odds. We mourn the loss of life, in part, because we recognize those lives to be worthy of such beauties. For example, when someone dies, we indirectly mourn that they will no longer be able to travel to Paris and behold the beauty of Notre Dame.

And now, at least in its present state, compared to its former glory, neither can we. And we mourn that.

Rounding Third and Heading for “Home”

“For the world in its present form is passing away” (1 Cor. 7:31).

Every structure will eventually fall. Those things prized for their permanence in this life will one day pass away. We ourselves will die. Could it be that in collectively lamenting the loss suffered by Notre Dame Cathedral, we are actually acknowledging the utter finitude of life, including our own mortality, even anticipating our own death? I would argue for the affirmative.

The human person desires permanence; we have a transcendental desire for a perfect “home” where we are safe, known, and loved, forever. We get glimpses of it in this life, but no home seems to finally and forever satisfy the desire. Friends move, loved ones pass away, and cathedrals fall down. What are we to make of this?

Herein lies the content of the evangelization moment!

In the face of this tragic dimension of life, we may arrive at two possible conclusions:

  1. Life is an absurdity (name your modern philosopher on this point); or

  2. The human person is a pilgrim in this life; on a journey to the only “home” that will ultimately satisfy the desire of his heart.

As Catholics, we affirm the second! And a simple conversation on the Notre Dame fire may provide us with the perfect opportunity to speak this truth into the life of someone this week.

C.S. Lewis said:

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

We are “man on the way” – homo viator.  In his book by the same name, writing on the negation of death, 20th century philosopher Gabriel Marcel remarked:

“The world seems to assure me cynically that this tenderly loved being no longer exists on its lists, that he has been struck off the universal register – and I for my part claim that he exists all the same and that he cannot help existing.”

Here we arrive at the heart of the Christian claim and the substance of the Paschal Triduum: He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into hell. On the third day He rose again.

This is our faith! This is our resolute hope; to share it against the despair of death and destruction – even that of one of the world’s most historic cathedrals – is our joy! All of Lent has been leading up to this: Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. This is the moment we’ve been waiting for!

Don’t miss it.

 

Ryan Mahle