In the Parable of the Unjust Steward in Luke 16, Jesus describes a very perplexing situation.  Rather than the dishonest steward in the Parable of the Unjust Steward being berated or punished for his treachery, he is lauded by his master for taking the initiative to acquire friends for himself, even by theft, knowing his master was going to release him from his duties.  

 What's more impressive about this parable of the unjust steward is that Jesus himself encourages his followers to be like this dishonest and unjust steward.

What gives?  

What is Jesus talking about?  For, surely Jesus -- as any good Jew would do (it's in the 10 commandments after all) -- should be condemning the thievery of the man who was in charge of handling his master's monetary affairs.  

How can we make sense of this parable in light of all of Jesus' other teachings?

The Catechism tells us in paragraph 27 that the desire for God is written on the human heart.

The video we watched tried to stretch our sense of scale — to help us imagine an infinite mind holding all things at once. That longing to comprehend the vastness of existence is not accidental.

As the Catechism says, “All creatures bear a certain resemblance to God… their very existence is a voice proclaiming that God is” (CCC 41).
The order, beauty, and immensity of creation point to the Creator — and so does the longing in your heart.

“You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in You.”
— St. Augustine, Confessions I.1

God is not just the first cause who began everything long ago.
He is the One who holds everything in existence in this very moment.
There has never been a breath you have drawn that was not first His breath.
There has never been a heartbeat He did not hold in being.

As the Catechism says, “With his openness to truth and beauty… man discerns signs of his spiritual soul. He longs for God” (CCC 33).
This longing is already proof of His nearness.

When we pray, we are not reaching out into empty space hoping something hears us.
We are being formed, held, and called by the very Heart of God —
the Infinite, Eternal One who holds galaxies in motion and yet holds you at this very moment.

It is His Spirit that gives the spark,
His breath that you are drawing right now,
and to Him all things return.

Prayer is not about climbing up to find Him —
it is about awakening to the Infinite One who is already holding you.

One of my favorite lines I’ve heard is that within a minute of walking into your home, people should know you’re Catholic.

But sometimes, the crucifixes on our wall, the art and statues, can become just more decor. What truly makes a Catholic home goes hand in hand with our quote from St. Augustine:

“Our hearts are restless until they rest in You, O Lord.”

Where do you seek rest?

You do not need to live in a monastery — and sometimes incense makes me sneeze —
but you do need to place things where they can be seen, referenced, and witnessed.

I recall a temptation to sin, struggling almost each and every night, to turn toward excess — to go for that extra helping of dessert. On my way from my living room, where I could turn left or right to go down the hall to bed, or to the kitchen for a snack, I placed a painting of Jesus coming down off the cross — a reminder that it is my sin that took part in the destruction of innocent life.

Believe it or not, it struck me each and every night to turn towards Jesus.
It is in the small moments we find big change.

My children look to the crucifix every time they leave a room, knowing it is the call to lay down one’s life every time you walk out the door as the example of what it is to love as a Christian.

It is in the Mary garden, when I come home, that I am reminded of my heavenly Mother waiting to welcome me, inviting me to pray, and the reminder that Jesus has entrusted her to me.

It is in the symbols we are reminded of the eternal now, and it is in the love they remind me to manifest that my home becomes truly a Catholic home —
where love reigns supreme, and all are welcome, fed, and rested.