Top 10 of 2022

Bulletin, Mother of God

Not sure if I’ll get individual thank-yous written this time, but please know of my gratitude to you for all the great Christmas cards, gifts, and prayers. As we reach the end of the year and the start of another, it’s important to also give thanks to God for His countless blessings. I hope this has been a blessed and memorable year for all of you, even if there have been trials. Here are some of the highlights for me, in Fr. Schmidt’s Top 10 of ’22: 

10. Replacing the awning over the front door of the Hoven rectory, although it might still drip in a couple places.

9. Attending a priest retreat in June at the Abbey of the Hills for the first time. It was good, although it seemed to be mostly attended by older or retired priests.

8. Having an archbishop serve Mass for me. Following the Chrism Mass this year, Archbishop Thomas Gullickson let me celebrate Mass in Sioux Falls and was kind enough to serve at the altar.

7. The ceiling restoration in the church in Hoven, completed much more quickly than expected. Very grateful to members of the altar society cleaning afterwards to have Mass back in the church so soon.

6. Fr. Timothy Smith becoming a resident student priest in Bowdle for canon law. We had served together at the cathedral in Sioux Falls, and he knew this part of the diocese from his time in Ipswich.

5. Hosting the Leaven of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (LIHM) Sisters for a Confirmation retreat and later in the year, Fr. Brian Eckrich who helped with a wedding.

4. St. Augustine T-shirts for the religious education students in Bowdle. Hopefully, they’ll wear them around and continue to learn about this patron saint.

3. Having Fr. Michael Griffin provide the narration at the Christmas on the Prairie concert this year along with having Governor Kristi Noem and some of her family as special guests.

2. Attending the Wake of Bishop Paul J. Swain and reflecting on his many years of ministry in the diocese and as the bishop who ordained and assigned me.

1. Continuing as pastor of two of the greatest parishes in the Diocese of Sioux Falls.

The Face of God Revealed

Homily, Christmas

Most of you know by now that I come from a fairly large family. I have six brothers and two sisters. But I’m the youngest of my siblings, so I was never around babies very much. I never really understood all the excitement that people tend to have about babies. They don’t really do all that much, besides eat, sleep, cry, and fill their diapers. So what’s the big deal, I thought? Probably some of my older siblings thought the same thing about me, when I showed up at home. What’s so great about him that he gets so much attention?  

Today—if I counted them correctly—I have a total of 18 nieces and nephews, and as they get older, they definitely get involved in more activities than when they were just babies, but it still has always puzzled me why the Birth of Jesus at Christmas has become such a big celebration in the Church and in the wider world. All that happened when He was born was simply a change in location for the Baby Jesus. For nine months already, Jesus has been in the Virgin Mary’s womb. Now He’s out, breathing air. But the really momentous event is what happened nine months earlier at the Annunciation, when Jesus was conceived by the power of Holy Spirit, the moment when God first became man and took our flesh upon Himself, the moment when the invisible and utterly transcendent God entered into His own creation in this unheard of and unimaginable way. That’s when everything changed for us and for everything else in existence. So what’s so special about the Birth of Jesus? 

In recent decades, sonogram and 3D-imaging technology have even given us another window into the womb, so to speak, to sort of be able to “see” some of the child’s features even before birth, or to “hear” the heartbeat. These technologies have helped advance the pro-life movement in leading a number of people to recognize the dignity of human beings even from the moment of conception. But if you’ve seen many sonogram pictures, it’s not always the easiest to make out what you’re supposed to be looking at, and there’s really nothing that compares with finally seeing the child face to face for the first time, counting all their little toes and fingers, and holding them in your own arms.  

And in this world so full of darkness and pain, so full of violence and injustice, when our faith is so frequently put to the test, it’s often not enough for us to simply believe that God is with us, even for us to know that Jesus is there, hidden away in the Virgin’s womb. It was enough perhaps to make his cousin John the Baptist rejoice in the womb, and his mother Elizabeth at the Visitation. But the great desire of all the Saints of the Old Testament is still the deepest desire of every human heart. We want to actually see the face of God. Not just to know Him or to hear His Word proclaimed, but to actually see Him with our own eyes. This is what we celebrate at Christmas, that “the grace of God has appeared” visibly to us, that in the features of the Christ Child, we see the Face of God Himself, the visible Image of the invisible God. Come, let us adore Him. Let us stand in silent wonder, that God has finally visited His people, shown His Face to us, and revealed His Glory. 

And this is not just a privilege for His holy Mother Mary, or St. Joseph, or the shepherds at the manger scene, or even all those who through the 33 years or so of His earthly life would be able to look upon the Face of Jesus. If we truly believe what we confess as Catholics, we know that each one of us is given the very same privilege at each and every Mass. That under the humble appearances of bread and wine, we truly look upon Christ Himself, made present to us, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, the same holy Child whom they adored more than 2000 years ago. And just as it required an act of faith on the part of the shepherds, to acknowledge as their Lord and God this tiny Baby placed in a poor manger between the donkey and the ox, so it also requires faith from us to say, “My Lord and my God,” to the One who continues to reveal Himself humbly, in the tiny Host upon the altar, the Victim of sacrifice for our salvation. As we gaze upon Jesus in the Eucharist, as we behold the Lamb of God, He is looking back at us. As we continue on in this world of darkness and cold, and as the world around us threatens day by day to grow even darker spiritually, our life of faith needs this visible reassurance. We need to see God, to look upon Him with our own eyes in this Eucharist. Every Sunday, even every day, we need His Presence.  

In the new year of 2023, why not all of us make one resolution together, together as a parish, as a diocese, as a Catholic Church throughout the world, and a resolution that we’ll actually keep and hold each other accountable for, the resolution to grow in our devotion to Jesus Christ in the Most Holy Eucharist, in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and in silent adoration of His Presence in every tabernacle of the world? To extend this grace of Christmas throughout the entire year and to seek the Face of the God of Jacob, especially every Sunday. Nothing else has the power to bring peace to our troubled world today. No one else can motivate us to a more genuine service and concern for the poor and the abandoned among us. Nothing else is going to matter quite so much at the end of our lives, as how we responded to the Face of Christ present and hidden in our midst. A Child is born for us, a Son is given us. On this altar, our God reveals His Face to us again. Come, let us adore Him. 

Keep Mass in Christmas

Bulletin Letter, Christmas Day

The other day I came across this phrase online. Of course, we are all probably familiar with the campaign to “Keep Christ in Christmas” that warns against Christmas being reduced to commercialism, economic stimulus, and empty sentimentalism, often missing the fact that the real miracle of this season is that “the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.” God became man in Jesus Christ and changed human history for ever. 

But to “keep Mass in Christmas” recalls that the main celebration of this or any other holiday (holy-day) is to participate in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, which is where the suffix –mas comes from. Other examples include Candlemas on February 2, now the Feast of the Lord’s Presentation in the Temple, which includes a blessing of candles. Michaelmas is September 29, now the Feast of the Three Archangels. Other names for holydays that are used even less frequently include Martinmas on November 11 for St. Martin, Hallowmas on November 1 for All Saints, and Childermas on December 28 for the Holy Innocents. 

The only “sacraments” or “liturgy” that seems to still be part of pop cultural observances of Christmas include gift exchanges, caroling, baking unhealthy, sugary snacks, and the ritual lighting of Christmas trees. I always found the “lighting” of the Christmas tree outside in the garden after it had dried out to be much more impressive, flames engulfing and making very short work of it. All this pales in comparison to offering the Flesh of God upon our altars and being fed by Him who is “a consuming Fire” (Hebrews 12:29). 

Every Sunday is a holy day for Christians, and the main way we’re called to keep the Lord’s Day holy is by coming to Mass. If we’re too busy even for that, we’re too busy. Period. I’d hate for any of us to stand before the Lord on Judgment Day and say, “Well, lots of other Catholics and non-Catholics didn’t go every Sunday or holy day, either.” Since when has the Christian standard been reduced to what’s common or widely accepted? You know better. 

Keep Mass in Christmas and on every Sunday and holy day of obligation, so that we can stand without shame in the presence of God at the end of our lives as we give an accounting, not for anyone else, but for our own conduct and how we’ve made use of what was entrusted to us by God. That we may know the joy that comes not from health, wealth, or success, but the joy that comes uniquely from God, the peace that the world cannot give nor ever take away. A very Merry Christmas to you and yours! 

Beyond Worldly Ways

Homily, Advent Sunday 4A

I’ve always greatly admired St. Joseph, and he’s always been a special patron of mine. In the year 1870, St. Joseph was named the patron of the entire universal Church; he is also the patron of our Cathedral and the Diocese of Sioux Falls, and he’s the patron of my home parish in Elk Point, so at every level of the Church I saw that St. Joseph was always praying for me. He and I seem to have a lot in common as well. From all indications, he was a man of very few words. In fact, in the whole Bible, we don’t find any words of St. Joseph recorded. And here’s something we might all find encouraging—I’ve always considered St. Joseph to be a special patron of those who fall asleep during prayer, because so many of his most important communications from God occurred while he was sleeping, through dreams.

In today’s Gospel, God communicates his will to St. Joseph in a dream, challenging his understanding of God’s plan for him and his wife, and even calling him beyond the practices that were considered acceptable and justified in his own day. At the time of St. Joseph, this righteous man, according to societal standards and even in Jewish practice, it would have been perfectly justifiable for him to divorce his wife, when he knew that the child she was bearing was not his own. But God calls St. Joseph to something greater, something almost unimaginable, to become the guardian and foster-father of God’s own Son. Amazingly, once St. Joseph knows what God’s will is for his marriage, he immediately obeys and takes Mary, his wife, into his home, even though he probably still struggles to fully understand what this is all going to mean for him, how this is possible, and what sacrifices he will be called upon to make as he becomes the Head of the Holy Family and the Husband of the Ever-Virgin Mother of God. In faith, St. Joseph is able to follow God’s call, to go beyond the standards and practices considered acceptable in his own day.

Throughout history, God challenges and calls His holy people beyond the standards of the world around them. Jesus challenged His Jewish contemporaries on their understanding of marriage and divorce, calling them on to something greater, to the indissolubility of marriage, its permanence until death. It’s not surprising then, that authentically Christian marriage has always had standards that go beyond those of the secular society around us. What makes Catholic teaching distinctive is that it is not a product of man-made religion; Catholic teaching is not subject to the same changes and shifts that we see in secular society or popular culture. Fundamentally, the Church’s teaching is not about what we think of God or our search for God or heaven or happiness.

Catholic teaching is about Revelation that comes from God. Christmas is all about God coming to us, seeking us out, God’s initiative to reveal Himself in human flesh, and as He does so, God challenges our understanding of ourselves and, in faith, calls us beyond what we thought was possible, beyond even our own desires. God reveals His design and plan for humanity, and in doing so, he also makes clear those things that are incompatible with our true fulfillment.

In our own day, God continues to call us beyond what the world offers us, to fulfill His will and to cooperate with our salvation in Christ. And the difference between Catholic standards revealed by God and the changing standards of the world is still most noticeable in this area of marriage, divorce, and chastity. Marriage and the family are the very foundation of society itself, and yet, we have seen in recent years how quickly this foundation seems to be shifting under our feet. But God, through the Catholic Church, continues to call us to something greater, despite the prevailing currents of society.

Now I realize that there are even many well-intentioned Catholics who think that the Church will eventually just have to accept things like gay marriage, contraception, cohabitation and sexual relations prior to marriage, divorce and re-marriage without recourse to the annulment process, or the whole transgender ideology. There may even be Catholics who think that the Church will eventually accept abortion, but I am here to tell you that the Catholic Church is the custodian and steward of God’s Revelation. The Church is not its Master or Author. There is no Pope, no bishop, no council which has the power to change what God has revealed once and for all, even to make things seem easier for us or to make the Church more fashionable to society. Personally, I consider it to be the height of false compassion to offer people the false hope that the Church’s teaching could change in these areas of God’s plan for human sexuality.

At the same time, it is certainly not my intention, nor is it the intention of God or His Church, to alienate or to exclude anyone. Every last human being is invited into faith and relationship with Jesus Christ and into His one Church, but if God has a real plan for us, and if He desires our free cooperation in that plan, if we’re called not just to be passive onlookers, but to actually take up our cross and follow Christ and become His disciples, it only makes sense that there are behaviors, choices that we can make, sins that we can commit that place us outside of God’s plan for us, that take us off the Path that Christ lays out for us, and these require repentance. Almost everyone still acknowledges murder as something that definitely places us outside of God’s plan, but there are many other actions that fall short or go against what God asks of us.

Please also understand that I hope to have, and hope that everyone will have, the utmost compassion for those who experience homosexual attractions, for those who go through divorce and would like to try marriage again, for married couples who contracept or use IVF, and for couples who live together before being married, many of whom have never been presented with any clear alternative to what the world offers. And for any struggling with their gender identity. We all sin in different ways, and I am a sinner as well. I’m often more blameworthy because of all that has been entrusted to me, everything that I know to be true through years of study and reflection, but we don’t do anyone any favors by condoning behaviors and lifestyles that God has revealed cannot lead to their true happiness and fulfillment, according to His plan for our lives and our destiny of heavenly glory.

Please pray for those who wander from the path that Christ has laid out for us, the Way of the Cross that is always a higher standard than what the world presents, but is also a more fulfilling, meaningful, and abundant life than what the world could ever give. And may St. Joseph intercede for us, to follow Christ in real faith, as God continues to challenge every one of us to become His holy ones, to become Saints, to endure many trials and to go beyond the standards of this passing world, to experience a joy and lasting peace that is far greater than anything we could ask or imagine.

“Be There Tomorrow”

Bulletin, Advent Sunday 4A

The second part of the season of Advent starts on December 17, when the Lectionary readings shift to a more explicit focus on the Nativity of Christ in Bethlehem rather than on the return of Christ at the end of the world. December 17 is also when the O Antiphons begin, used with the Magnificat (the Gospel Canticle of Mary) at Vespers on these days, at least since the eighth century. These O Antiphons name seven Messianic titles of Jesus, expressive of the expectations of the Jewish people and indeed of all humanity. The “O” is the interjection that begins each phrase as a way of greeting and addressing Jesus. 

The O Antiphons are probably best known through the popular hymn “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” which summarizes them quite well. The titles given on successive days also form what’s called an acrostic, where the initial letters spell out a word or, in this case, a phrase. The titles given in order are
Sapientia (Wisdom)
Adonai (Lord)
Radix Iesse (Root of Jesse)
Clavis David (Key of David)
Oriens (Dawn/Rising Sun in the East)
Rex Gentium (King of the Gentiles/Nations)
Emmanuel (God-with-us) 

The Latin phrase spelled out (backwards, from bottom to top) is Ero cras, which means, “I will be there tomorrow.” With the eager expectation of an often dark and lonely world, we keep watch in these final days for the dawning of Christmas joy. Do not grow weary in hope, but know with certainty that in the Lord, we shall not be disappointed. 

Is Christ Enough?

Homily, Advent Sunday 3A

One detail in the Gospel that Sts. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all share, and that they are deliberate to point out, is that after John baptizes Jesus in the Jordan River, Herod had John arrested and put in prison before Jesus began His public ministry, His own preaching and working of miracles in earnest. So today, as we hear of John the Baptist sending his disciples from where he is being kept in prison, it’s understandable that John may have been growing impatient or discouraged while he waited in custody, or he was growing curious about all the miracles Jesus was doing, the controversies and conflicts with Pharisees and Sadducees, all the reports and rumors he had been hearing secondhand about Jesus while John was stuck in prison, no longer free to witness these things himself. Many of the early Christians thought that it wasn’t so much that John the Baptist was having any real doubts himself about whether Jesus was really the Christ but that he was trying to strengthen the faith of his own disciples by sending them to Jesus with this question and allowing them to witness the miracles and teachings of Jesus firsthand.

But the question they ask is a crucial one, and if we’re honest, it’s a question that in our own journey of faith we often end up asking Jesus ourselves: “Are you the One who is to come, or should we look for another?” Are you the Messiah? Are you the answer to all the hopes of Israel, the answer to the hopes and dreams of every person on the earth? Or should we keep looking for something or someone else? The question even sounds a bit like what we heard in Luke’s Gospel a few Sundays ago on the Feast of Christ the King. At the crucifixion, many—including the wicked thief crucified beside Him—taunted Jesus with this question, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself! And us!” Come down from the Cross! Free me from this prison, from this sentence of death!

Jesus responds: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.” But objections arise almost immediately in our hearts. That’s all well and good for those who were healed, restored, cleansed, and raised in the time of Jesus, but we know plenty of people who are still blind, whether physically or spiritually, plenty who are lame, or deaf to the truth, or dead and imprisoned in their sins, suffering poverty much worse than any lack of material goods. But God still gives the same Answer, because He has no other to give. In giving us Christ His only Son, God has given us everything. And Jesus gave His all for us on the Cross, even to the final drop of His Most Precious Blood. Jesus continues to give His all for us in this Eucharist. And yet, many do not believe. Most people in the world today do not have faith. But do you?

You can only answer for yourself. Is Jesus enough for you? Is Jesus enough for me? Or am I still looking for another? Something or someone else to satisfy my heart? Am I still looking for power, pleasure, health, wealth, fame, or influence? Is Jesus enough, or isn’t He? St. John of the Cross puts it like this: “In giving us his Son, his only Word (for [God] possesses no other), he spoke everything to us at once in this sole Word—and [God] has no more to say. . . because what he spoke before to the prophets in parts, he has now spoken all at once by giving us the All Who is His Son. Any person questioning God or desiring some vision or revelation would be guilty not only of foolish behavior but also of offending him, by not fixing his eyes entirely upon Christ and by living with the desire for some other novelty.”

Jesus is the answer and fulfillment of every human hope and everything we most truly desire. Jesus is the healing for every wound and affliction we can experience. Jesus is the One, the only One, who can bring us to life from the dead. Yet how often we keep looking for someone else, for something else to bring us peace, to bring us joy, to bring fulfillment and meaning to our lives! Are you the One who is to come, or should we look for another? Jesus is the One. God has made us for Himself, and our hearts will be forever restless until we can learn to finally rest in God. No one else and nothing else can fill you the way that Jesus wants to feed you in this Eucharist. Do we believe that? We’re never going to convince anyone else of the power and love of Christ, of the truth and beauty of our Catholic faith, if we don’t first believe it ourselves with all our hearts and find our rest, our hope, our one true joy in Christ our Lord. He is the One, and there is no other. Let us rejoice and be glad that He has saved us.

Time Runs, Eternity Awaits

Bulletin Letter, Advent Sunday 3A

Hard to believe we’re already reaching the Third Sunday of Advent, Gaudete (“Rejoice”) Sunday. And though the winter solstice isn’t until Saturday, the 21st, many of us have probably had our fill of winter already. I hope your Christmas shopping is going well. Before you know it, we’ll be ringing in the new year: 2023. Reminds me that I’ll be eligible for retirement in the year 2063. Just four more decades, if any of us are still around by then, and whatever is left of our country.

With the recent death of Bishop Swain, certain memories come to mind. Before his retirement, Bishop Swain went on pilgrimage to Poland to visit many of the sites that were significant in the life of St. John Paul II. One highlight he often mentioned after his return was seeing the parish church where Karol Józef Wojtyła was baptized and where he attended Mass during his childhood in Wadowice, Poland. On the side of the church, just outside the house where he was born and lived, there is a decorative sundial that the future saint probably saw several times a day for the first eighteen years of his life. Above the sundial are painted the Polish words for, “Time is running. Eternity is waiting.”

Another common saying along the same lines in Latin is, Tempus fugit; memento mori. “Time flies. Remember death.” In Sirach 7:36, we find, “In all you do, remember the end of your life, and you will never sin.” Hopefully, we all have regular—even daily—reminders that our life on earth is temporary, not out of any excessive fascination with death but to give us a healthy perspective on life. Is what I’m doing each day really worthwhile? Are the things I worry about and stress over so often going to matter much next week, next month, next year, or in the next life? Am I becoming the person I’ll want to be when I meet Jesus face to face?

Having that reminder just outside his front door during all the years of his childhood no doubt formed St. John Paul II in the perspective that urged him to spend well the years on earth entrusted to him by God. Time is running. Eternity is waiting. How will you spend these final days of Advent, waiting with anticipation for the Coming of Christ?

This Wednesday, December 14, Friday, December 16, and Saturday, December 17, are the Winter Ember Days. Please join in offering to God some extra fasting and prayers, thanking Him for the harvest and begging him for more holy priests and religious to labor in His vineyard.

Without a Mask

Homily, Advent Sunday 2A

You may already be familiar with many parts of my vocation story or my own discernment of the priesthood, that I entered seminary right out of high school. Really, I’d been thinking about and considering the priesthood since I was very young, maybe 4 or 5 years old, so by the time I finally entered seminary and found out it would be 8 more years of school, it seemed like forever. So after four years of philosophy in college, I think it was in my second year of theology when we began practicing homilies and preaching. That’s when it started to become more real, that the priesthood wasn’t so far off anymore, when we started practicing what priests normally do pretty much every day or several times a day. A lot of it is trial and error, just giving things a shot and finding what works for each guy, whether it’s more helpful for some to use a full text written out or just an outline, and getting encouragement or discouragement as we gave and received feedback from a few classmates and one of the priests on staff.

A lot of it is just finding your own style. But there were a few sort of hard and fast rules that could apply to everyone. One of those rules was this: you probably shouldn’t start your homily by insulting your congregation. Now I’m not sure where St. John the Baptist went to seminary, but he seemed to have a somewhat different policy, at least when it came to the Pharisees and Sadducees. Don’t get me wrong, calling your audience the offspring of snakes, a “brood of vipers” or trees that are about to be cut down can definitely serve to get their attention—which is often one of the goals of an introduction—but hurling insults at them probably does very little to establish the sympathy of your listeners. So was St. John the Baptist in need of some more sensitivity training? Or is there something else going on in today’s Gospel?

It might help us to keep in mind who the Gospel tells us were the ones that really embraced the message of John the Baptist. Later in the Gospel, Jesus will say that it was the tax collectors and prostitutes who believed John and repented of their sins (Matthew 21:32). What was special about tax collectors and prostitutes at the time? What did they have in common in contrast with the Pharisees and Sadducees? They were both groups of public sinners. Everyone knew and could recognize who the tax collectors were and the prostitutes when they were out in public. They weren’t able to hide behind any façade or bother pretending to be great and admirable people. There was an authenticity and sincerity about them. Tax collectors and prostitutes knew that they were weak, they knew themselves to be sinners, and they knew that they could not save themselves.

The Pharisees and the Sadducees, on the other hand, were of a very different sort. These were the religious authorities at the time, the elites. Their public appearance was often very impressive, with prayers, fasting, and almsgiving, but Jesus would describe them as “whitewashed tombs, which appear beautiful on the outside, but inside are full of dead men’s bones and every kind of filth” (Matthew 23:27). They have a holy appearance. In public, they act like they have it all together, but their focus on the merely external observance of God’s Law prevents them from recognizing and acknowledging their own need for a Savior, all the ways in which, despite putting on a brave face and keeping up appearances, they are broken and hurting inside, like any tax collector or prostitute.

Still today, God is not nearly as interested in your public persona or reputation as He is with your heart and your soul. “Not by appearance [does] he judge, nor by hearsay [does] he decide.” Underneath all the posturing and so much effort at putting our best foot forward, are we able to authentically relate to God and to another human being? Or are we constantly covering ourselves with walls and layers of defense and illusions to prevent anyone from seeing—to prevent even God from seeing—how vulnerable we truly are, how broken and desperate for salvation? God wants to meet us there, behind all appearances and false fronts, and hopefully there are other people in your life that you can really trust, and around them, you are free to just be yourself, without any disguises.

No amount of social media can satisfy our need for real intimacy, of knowing that underneath it all, in all our brokenness, we are loved, we are valued, we are appreciated and desired. We are wanted by God. St. John the Baptist wanted to break through the false fronts and the hardened hearts of the Pharisees and the Sadducees, not because he didn’t care about them, but because he knew that this was his best chance at freeing them from their own illusions, from their own pride and presumption, that it is when we become truly vulnerable before God that we can be free, and only in being able to really share our weakness with another human being do we find true strength. Jesus has shared, by His taking on our flesh in the Incarnation at that first Christmas, and most especially in His embrace of the Cross and even death for our salvation, Jesus has shared in all our weakness as a fellow human being, as a friend, and He raises us up into the power and the love of God. May we have the strength today to open ourselves fully to Christ in this Eucharist, and throughout this Advent season, to open ourselves more and more, to let God see and save who we really are, behind all appearances.