Bending the Arc

+New Ways Ministry is sponsoring a retreat for LGBTQ+ people and friends Friday-Sunday, March 6-8, 2026 at the Siena Retreat Center in Racine.

Brian Flanagan, PhD. is the John Cardinal Chair of Catholic Theology at Loyola University in Chicago. He will be leading the retreat, which will combine talks, synodal conversations, silent meditation, communal prayer, and socializing.

Learn more and register at https://www.newwaysministry.org/walkingtogether/ 

Following Dr. Flanagan’s stay in Racine, he will be traveling to Fond du Lac and will be hosted by the Congregation of Sisters of St. Agnes (CSA), where he will be making a presentation on Monday, March 9 at 5:30 pm. Participants will walk through similar experiences of listening and reflecting on what we can be doing as a church to support our LGBTQ+ brothers and sisters. 

Interested in CSA’s March 9 event? Please register here.

On the First Friday of each month, CMN invites you to a virtual prayer vigil, a sacred space to lament upcoming executions and bear witness to the sanctity of all human life. Join to stand in solidarity with people facing execution, their victims, and all who are impacted by the unjust system of capital punishment. 

First Friday Prayer Vigils include time for guided prayer, petitions, Scripture reflections, and contemplative silence. Due to the New Year’s Day holiday, January’s vigil will be on January 9, 2026, at 1:00 pm CT, featuring scripture reflection by Marie Dennis, director of Pax Christi International’s Catholic Institute for Nonviolence and a Pax Christi USA Teacher of Peace. 

You won’t want to miss this! Learn more and Register here: https://catholicsmobilizing.org/our-work/death-penalty/prayer-vigils/

In a recent Vatican News story, Marie Dennis reflects on Pope Leo’s call for an unarmed peace for a wounded world. Read or listen to that story here.

In the Social Justice Resource Center January 2026 Newsletter, several staggering statistics were shared about the amount of plastics in our oceans. Here are just a few:

• In total, 14 million tons of plastic are entering our oceans every year.
• By 2050, there will be more plastic (by weight) in our oceans than fish.
• 33% of sea turtles (my favorite sea creature) will ingest plastic in their lifetime, and more than 50% of the dolphin and whale populations already have.
• 274 marine animals die each day from plastic entanglement.
• 73% of beach litter is plastic.
• A large source of plastic pollution are microplastics, tiny pieces of plastic less than 5mm in length, originate from larger plastic items breaking down and from synthetic clothing fibers shed during washing.
• There are 20 times more microplastic particles in our oceans than stars in our galaxy.
• The country producing the most plastic waste is the United States at 46 million tons.

Americans cannot seem to live without the convenience of plastic, but we must try! Stopping the demand for plastics starts with you. Here are 10 small ways you can have an impact in 2026:

1. Stop buying bottled water, drinks and sodas in plastic. Period.
2. Wean yourself from single-use plastics. For one, bring your own reusable tote bags, containers, straws and utensils to stores and restaurants (I cringe every time I see a cart full of yellow plastic bags walking out of the grocery store!).
3. Avoid liquid soaps and detergents in plastic bottles. Purchase bars, tabs or sheets (without microplastics) instead.
4. Buy in bulk, looking for eco-friendly packaging or using glass jars whenever possible.
5. Choose clothes made from natural fibers like cotton, wool and hemp.
6. Put pressure on manufacturers to use smarter packaging. Give your money to more sustainable competitors.
7. Ditch microbeads - avoid face wash, toothpaste with microbeads or larger laundry beads and scent boosters that go down the drain and eventually into rivers, lakes and oceans.
8. Go for the cone! Get your ice cream in a cone and avoid the plastic cup and spoon.
9. Avoid plastic wrap and baggies! Secure snacks and sandwiches in beeswax wrap, cloth sacks, or glass containers.
10. Recycle properly. Do not “wish cycle.” Improper recycling contaminates products that could be properly recycled. Remember, while good, recycling is the last resort. Avoiding plastics altogether is the best!

For more sustainability guidelines and tips, read the CSA Sustainability Guidelines.
 

The Beatitudes Center for the Nonviolent Jesus teaches and promotes the nonviolence of Jesus with the purpose to help end violence and to create a new culture of nonviolence through workshops, podcasts, and conferences. It was founded by Rev. John Dear.

Fr. John Dear is an internationally known author, activist, and teacher of peace and nonviolence. Learn more about Fr. Dear at https://beatitudescenter.org/about-john-dear/ 

The Beatitudes Center offers a new episode for the “The Nonviolent Jesus Podcast” every Monday. A conversation with actor and activist Martin Sheen is coming up January 13 and hear from S. Helen Prejean on the 27th! February features conversations with Fr. Richard Rohr and S. Joan Chittister.
The Center also has excellent programming, including “Blessed are those who mourn” on  Saturday, January 24, 2026. Learn more at https://beatitudescenter.org/ 

On July 4, 2026, the United States of America will commemorate and celebrate the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Each month, we will share an article inviting reflection on this anniversary, the current state of our democracy, and our personal role in its maintenance. 

January 6, 2026, marks the Feast of the Epiphany and the fifth anniversary of the insurrection at the United States Capitol. Diana Butler Bass published the following article in January 2022. 

The Unwanted Anniversary: Remembering and contemplating democracy

I’ve been thinking a lot about anniversaries this month.

A few days ago, my husband, Richard, and I marked twenty-five years of marriage. The milestone prompted us to remember what was surprising and good in our time together and to look ahead and consider what we’d like to do in the next decade or two. Anniversaries are like that. Part memory exercise, part imagining the future.

But that’s not the only anniversary on my mind.

I’ve also been thinking about the first anniversary of January 6, the Insurrection at the Capitol. It may seem odd to put these anniversaries together in this reflection, given one celebrates love and the other recalls a violent political event. But anniversaries, whether commemorating something joyous or painful, invite us into the same two movements: remembering what has been and considering what might be.

And so, prompted by the unwanted anniversary of January 6, I’ve been ruminating on democracy — its past and its future.

Movement 1: REMEMBERING DEMOCRACY

The most significant memory I have of democracy is having no memory of it. Democracy was just what was. I took it for granted. It was always there, and it would always be there. Sort of like Jesus, “the same yesterday, today, and forever.”

Some of my earliest memories are political ones — mostly of John F. Kennedy and of the Civil Rights Movement. Between the two, I learned that democracy was a hope-filled possibility and that it wasn’t perfect. Indeed, it wasn’t complete. It was a project. There were people who couldn’t vote because of the color of their skin. There were people who didn’t have certain rights because they weren’t men. There were people who couldn’t publicly proclaim who they loved because others considered them deviant. There were those with no access to democracy because they were poor or marginalized or went unnoticed.

How to fix these things, make the project work?

Democratic shortcomings were addressed by better democracy. In the middle of the twentieth century, people fought to widen democracy’s reach, to establish the dignified participation of everyone in voting, and to guarantee equity under the law. The federal government must stand as a protector of democracy for all citizens, no matter an individual’s political party, class, or creed. Indeed, many Americans shared a sense of democratic responsibility for people across the globe who were seeking a fairer, more just, and humane existence. Democracy was a worthy project, and it was a bright birthright, our political North Star.

In addition to being an incomplete project, it seemed pretty obvious there were problems with democracy, too. People guessed there were rigged elections (I’m still convinced that my junior year student council election was fixed) and demagogues of all sorts. And democracy has always had violent impulses — its discontents quick to threaten and even kill dreamers and reformers. White middle-class people — the people who raised me — tended to see the misuse of democracy as aberrations, “mistakes,” to the genial progress of history. We eschewed the Joseph McCarthys of the world, were horrified by the Bull Connorses and George Wallaces on the news, and could barely believe President Nixon would lie to us but held him responsible when he did. It was different for others (I know that now) who warned that mistakes were purposeful and that abuse might be baked into the system. But, oddly enough, most of them appealed to democracy to fix it, too.

My upbringing not only took democracy for granted, but we also thought it inevitably progressed. It would grow, move forward, and win the world. Democracy would triumph.

Truthfully, however, democracies move in fits and starts. They leap forward with utopian fervor; they lurch backward when those in charge fear a loss of status and power. In most American schools, we celebrated the leaps forward and minimized the backward lurches. Because we believed in the triumph. We loved a “chicken in every pot,” “morning in America” and a “place called Hope,” but we cower from whirlwinds and storms. That means that we’re mostly unprepared for the backlashes when they come. And, in a democracy, they always come.

Democracy, the rule of the people, is a political system based on us. The rule of the people can be as inspiring as the greatest human impulses, as fickle as human nature, and as devious and deluded as human beings can be. In this way, “democracy” isn’t an ideology. You can’t put an “ism” on the end of democracy. Indeed, it is a practice of being a person in community, a polity based more on faith in the commons than a systematized doctrine. You can’t really believe indemocracy. Instead, democracy asks us to trust that we belong to one another — all of us — and that together we can behave more justly and learn that liberty and happiness are possible.
If you have a political polity based on the rule of the people, however, it can’t be anything but messily human — sometimes shining like the sun, sometimes still or scatterbrained, sometimes stuck in a sinkhole of sin.
I think of theologian Reinhold Niebuhr writing on the irony of American history — in effect, the irony of democracy — in the early days of the Cold War:

Our dreams of bringing the whole of human history under the control of the human will are ironically refuted by the fact that no group of idealists can easily move the pattern of history toward the desired goal of peace and justice. The recalcitrant forces in the historical drama have a power and persistence beyond our reckoning. Our own nation, always a vivid symbol of the most characteristic attitudes of a bourgeois culture, is less potent to do what it wants in the hour of its greatest strength than it was in the days of its infancy. The infant is more secure in his world than the mature man is in his wider world. The pattern of the historical drama grows more quickly than the strength of even the most powerful man or nation.

Niebuhr would go on to say, “Meanwhile we are drawn into an historic situation in which the paradise of our domestic security is suspended in a hell of global insecurity; and the conviction of the perfect compatibility of virtue and prosperity which we have inherited from both our Calvinist and our Jeffersonian ancestors is challenged by the cruel facts of history.”

He never imagined that the “paradise of our domestic security” would become paradise lost. That’s why the first anniversary of January 6 is so significant. The cruel facts of history came home when armed Americans, deceived by an American president, destroyed a proud tradition of the peaceful transfer of power and attempted a coup to overturn the results of an election — all in a corrupted notion of actually saving democracy.
January 6 proved there’s no escaping the insecurity that roils the globe. There is no domestic paradise. There’s no Kansas to go home to. Somebody stole the freaking ruby slippers. And we’re stuck in a this brilliantly colored world with poisoned poppies and flying monkeys. We’re going to have to figure out how to live here.

Remembering democracy is more than nostalgia. It isn’t a couple on their anniversary toasting their success saying, “Isn’t it great? We did everything perfectly!” No. Remembering is a bittersweet task, involving honesty, confession, regret, and the deep knowledge of how much we did wrong. And yet the central promise remains — love, commitment, partnership, building a life together no matter what.

Remembering democracy is like that. It is memory with layers of irony on ironies, while understanding that democracy is the only thing that can correct all the problems of democracy. The central promise remains — a polis where every person really matters, building a society together no matter what.

Movement 2: CONSIDERING THE FUTURE

These memories shape how we contemplate the future of democracy. More than anything else, we need to be fully alert to the perils of what might be.

January 6 was backlash on steroids. Backlash to a Black president. Backlash to marriage equality. Backlash to women’s rights. Backlash to the widening of democracy over most of our lifetimes — a widening that saw democracy reaching to include all sorts of people who had been excluded, a democratic correction of the flaws and misuses and mistakes of democracy past. January 6 wasn’t just about Donald Trump or the Big Lie. It was backlash to four decades of democratic progress that had been, by any historical account, extraordinary.

Thus, the backlash was a dramatic, violent, and dizzying demonstration of what Niebuhr warned: “The recalcitrant forces in the historical drama have a power and persistence beyond our reckoning.”

In some ways, January 6 echoed other violent backlashes in American history. But it was also singular because it was an epiphany of sorts — it revealed that among us are those who don’t believe that democracy is the way to fix a democracy. Rather, less democracy, even violence, even a paramilitary and quasi-religious coup, is the path some have embraced for the future. The rule of fake histories and lies. The rule of people with guns. The rule of “Jesus Saves” and a gallows.

As much as we might not want to remember January 6, we must remember it. 

We need to ask: 
Where do we go from here? Was this the last act of “recalcitrant forces” against a democracy that opens its arms wide, as inclusive and pluralistic as its implicit promises? Or was January 6 the first act of the end of a democracy that most of us too often took for granted? What kind of future do we want? What future can we commit to make?
 

CSA is a member organization in the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR)

The Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) stands with all people whose lives are threatened by violence, war, and hatred. Rooted in our faith, we profess our unwavering belief in the dignity, value, and rights of every human person and our commitment to the sacredness of human life.

With deep concern for the people of Venezuela, LCWR stands in solidarity with our sisters and brothers of the Confederation of Latin American Religious (CLAR) and with the consistent teaching of the Church in opposing the use of military force as a means of resolving political and democratic crises. Violence and war do not bring peace; they deepen suffering, destabilize nations, and place the most vulnerable at greatest risk.

We affirm the power of dialogue, negotiation, and diplomacy over military action. We call upon the United States Congress to exercise its constitutional and moral responsibility to address any use of force that violates our shared commitment to protect and promote human life and the common good.

We urge the Administration and all members of Congress to cease any military involvement in Venezuela and to support international efforts that foster fair elections, a peaceful transfer of power, and conditions in which democracy can truly flourish. The people of Venezuela deserve the freedom to determine their own future without coercion, violence, or external domination. We recognize that these same threats endanger other countries throughout Latin America, and we affirm our solidarity with all peoples whose sovereignty, dignity, and democratic aspirations are placed at risk by similar forces.

We also call upon people of faith to commit themselves to prayer for the people of Venezuela and for the discernment of global leaders, that decisions may be guided by wisdom, restraint, respect for human life, and a genuine concern for the common good.

As we are reminded in LCWR’s Response to These Times, this moment calls us to be women who remain informed, who listen deeply to all voices, and who engage in serious and prayerful discernment. We refuse to contribute to hatred, fear, division, or violence. Instead, we claim our moral authority as bearers of love and as people of hope, trusting that faithful action grounded in compassion and courage can shape a future worthy of our shared humanity.

ACTION STEPS

As women committed to discernment and faithful action, we also encourage you to consider the following action steps, offered as concrete ways to stand in solidarity with the Venezuelan people and to witness to Gospel values in this critical moment:

1. Support Local Efforts
   Identify organizations in your local community that are supporting Venezuelans in the United States. Your local Catholic Charities office may be a helpful place to begin.
2. Stay Informed
   Commit time each day to reading or listening to reputable news sources so that you are well informed and able to engage thoughtfully in conversation, advocacy, and decision-making. Deep listening and careful discernment are essential to our moral witness.

3. Advocate with Congress
   Write to your members of Congress to express your concerns about:

   • Appropriations for military action
   • The humanitarian crisis resulting from misuse of power
   • The overreach of the executive branch in authorizing force without congressional approval

   The current federal budget has only been approved through January 30, making this a particularly critical time to communicate with the legislative branch. 

4. Pray Publicly and Communally
   Look for opportunities to participate in or organize prayer vigils on behalf of the Venezuelan people. You are also invited to join LCWR congregations participating in 100 Days of Prayer and Advocacy, continuing through Sunday, January 11.
5. Join the LCWR 24-Hour Prayer Vigil
   Consider joining the 24-Hour LCWR Prayer Vigil on Monday, January 19, honoring the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Together we will pray for nonviolent responses to aggression in our world—and within our own hearts.
   Join via Zoom: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/88345486734 

Additional Resource

Maryknoll Office of Global Concerns offers timely background and advocacy tools:
https://maryknollogc.org/action/take-action-to-stop-a-war-on-venezuela/ 

As we reflected in LCWR’s Response to These Times, this moment calls us to remain informed, to listen deeply, and to engage in serious discernment — so that our choices do not contribute to fear, division, or violence, but instead witness to hope, love, and moral courage for the sake of the world."
 

On October 26, 2025, Buddhist monks and their special dog companion, Aloka, began their Walk for Peace from the Huong Dao Vipassana Bhavana Center in Fort Worth, Texas. Final destination is Washington, D.C. The monks walk about 30 miles a day, eat one meal, sleep outdoors, and rely on donations and goodwill along the route - ancient traditions. Support personnel for the monks provide food and water, but the monks are also accepting food, water, prayers, flowers and other items as donations as they pass through towns in America. The monks will also accept offerings for lodging for their lunch or overnight stops.

The walk will take an estimated 120 days and cross 2300 miles. The walk is not intended to be a protest, but to raise awareness of peace, loving kindness, and compassion across America and the world.

Awareness is indeed growing. They grew massive crowds during their walk through Georgia recently. People have been following them in hopes of being touched by their message of peace, hope, and love. Organizers say anyone is welcome to walk alongside them for a few miles and/or attend reflection gatherings. Read more from this news report. You can also follow updates on social media as the monks journey toward D.C.
 

January 1 is World Day of Peace, an annual celebration by the Catholic Church.

In his message for World Day of Peace, Pope Leo describes the peace of Christ as “unarmed and disarming.” He presents a call to action centered on the concept of “disarmament” - not just of weapons, but of the human heart and modern technology. This prophetic call to action is what the world desperately needs right now - a world on the brink of a new nuclear arms race.

TAKE ACTION! Click here to tell Congress to speak out for extending the New START Treaty and reopening negotiations with Russia. If this treaty expires on February 5, 2026, there will be no legal limits on the world’s two largest nuclear arsenals for the first time in decades.