#catholiccharitiesli

...left by my local sign angel...

12/2020

by Laura A. Cassell, CEO

Not long ago, I wrote about a “Stop Littering” sign planted by someone on a busy street near my home. Well, my Sign Angel is at it again – this time with the simple message, “Don’t Give Up.”  For starters, it warms my heart that there are average people who care enough to share messages of hope with total strangers.  And boy, do we need hope after a year with COVID and so much other upheaval!

It also got me thinking about Advent and about the ultimate message of hope that we just celebrated – the Birth of Christ.  For more than 2,000 years people’s distressed spirits have been buoyed by the humble birth of an infant in a stable. Through all types of hardship, many worse than the recent pandemic – whether it be famine, depression, pestilence, disease, world wars – at year’s end, people have found their hope renewed by simply recounting what happened on that cold, quiet  night in Bethlehem so long ago.  This same birth is here for us now if only we can find a way to ease our restlessness and open our hearts to His power.

It’s telling that our Lord was NOT born into a situation of grandeur, or ease or even remote normalcy; as if to assure us – 2,000 years into the future – that when things look their bleakest we should turn our eyes to heaven and look for His star.  Indeed, our Savior was born into despair. His mother and father were traveling as strangers in a land that held no relations, gave them nowhere to rest, and promised only danger for their newborn child.  Yet the Holy family found solace that first holy night in the angels and the poor shepherds who came in from the fields. And lucky for us and for humanity, they did not lose hope.

While we tend to visualize Christ as the young carpenter who literally carried the cross to His own crucifixion, Advent reminds us that He first revealed Himself as a vulnerable baby with a powerful message of hope:  With God, there is always room for new beginnings and for that second chance. This belief is central to the mission of Catholic Charities.  For more than 60 years we’ve served neighbors who turn to our Church in their struggles – frail seniors, pregnant women, young mothers, veterans, immigrants, people with addictions and mental illness, developmental disabilities and many other challenges.  This past year, COVID brought many more to our doorstep with sickness, loss of loved ones, loss of jobs and even dreams.  And just like the innkeeper of Bethlehem, we opened our doors and made room, keeping hope alive and well in their hearts.  

This year that message is one we all ought to fervently cling to, individually and collectively, as a community of believers.  It’s been a year of trial on so many levels that it would be easy for us to throw up our hands and surrender but the infant Jesus won’t let us.  He promises us a new beginning and the opportunity to keep striving in His footsteps.  Advent is His personal invitation to renew our covenant with Him and not even COVID can limit us when we unite our hearts to unleash His HOPE on the world!

I am so grateful to my stealth, “Sign Angel” for the well-timed, covert inspiration. That little, road-side sign reminds each of us to use the power of the Holy season to ignite hope in the hearts of all people of goodwill throughout our country and the world.  

1 John 2:15

An Advent reflection for 12/30/2020: The Sixth Day in the Octave of Christmas - by Laura A. Cassell, CEO

                Do not love the world or the things of the world…

In a year dominated by the COVID pandemic, John’s caution not to love “the things of this world” carries particular weight, especially as we’re forced to contemplate the reality of those words in our day-to-day lives. To be sure, the virus has changed virtually every facet of how we behave and with whom we interact. For many of us, it has uncomfortably exposed the all too significant degree of attachment we have for the things of this world. Not only have we forgone communal events like concerts, movies, and shows of every kind, we’ve also had to sacrifice large weddings, baptisms and virtually all the personal gatherings we once took for granted. Simple things like a lunch with coworkers or a day at the beach have become carefully-executed and exceedingly rare projects if they even happen at all.  

Meanwhile, the practices of social distancing and mask wearing have had even more profound impacts. These necessary but heartbreaking restrictions have reduced our personal contact with each other while also leaving us with a tangible, emotional disconnect. We avoid all but the most necessary visits and our masks block the beauty of facial expressions which are so vital to true communication. All the Zoom meetings and Skype calls in the world could never match the authenticity of the human face.  

So while it’s clear that most of us have spent this year unhappily relinquishing “the things of this world,” I can’t help but wonder if we’ve used the time wisely. Have we spent these months lamenting these burdensome circumstances? Or, have we used this time to grow closer to God? This forced intermission in our ever-more busy lives might be considered an opportunity to re-evaluate what really matters. Clearly, our dependence on a loving and merciful God is on the minds of many. Will we simply forget this profound truth when this is all over?  

10/2020

by Laura A. Cassell, CEO

If anyone ever designs a time machine, let’s remind them to skip 2020.

All kidding aside, it’s certainly been a daunting year and that’s coming from Catholic Charities, an organization designed to tackle challenging problems.  To be sure, we’ve navigated a fair share in our 63-year history, everything from 9-11 to Superstorm Sandy. However, a worldwide pandemic, nonstop political unrest, and now hurricane power outages have left all but the toughest Long Islanders feeling overwhelmed.  Even the warm weather we patiently waited for brought an uptick of sharks prowling our beaches!  

So I wanted to take this opportunity to finally share a bit of good news from earlier in the year.  Back in February we decided to breathe some new life into our ministries by introducing an updated agency graphic and a refreshed mission statement (found below). With those in hand, we then changed our name from, Catholic Charities of Rockville Centre to Catholic Charities of Long Island. Remarkably, despite our long, local history at more than 60 locations from Elmont to the East End, many people still didn’t realize we serve all of Long Island. We knew this name change would be a tremendous undertaking but that it was also somewhat overdue. Unfortunately, just as we were poised to unveil our new identity, COVID-19 struck our beloved island.

As you well know, outside of New York City, Nassau and Suffolk were among the hardest hit counties in the country but as always, Long Islanders leapt into action. Our hospitals constructed enormous medical tents and invented makeshift ventilators, beach parking lots became high-volume testing centers, doctors and nurses came out of retirement and everyday people started sewing masks. At Charities, we joined the fight too. We immediately instituted telehealth appointments, set up electronic benefits filing and offered online psychological consults. We made weekly calls to the hundreds of seniors unable to attend our senior centers and delivered Meals-on-Wheels and groceries to hundreds more. Most important, we continued round-the-clock, face-to-face care in our homes for developmental disabilities, mental illness, frail seniors and single, pregnant young moms and their babies. Our team at Catholic Charities never stopped caring for our neighbors and when the virus got in the way, we found new ways to deliver services and to reassure them that they were not alone.  

Looking back on those first, few, tumultuous months it’s clear we made the right choice.  Our phones were ringing off the hook because Long Islanders instinctively knew the Church would be there for them. And every time we responded, “Catholic Charities of Long Island” we could sense the relief of our callers.  But we’ve always been here. We responded when the towers fell and we rebuilt our communities after Superstorm Sandy. Naturally, we’re going to be here to pick up the pandemic pieces. Catholic Charities is part of Long Island, and Long Island is a part of us. We are your friends, family, and neighbors and all that we do, we do together with you as one community. That’s what makes us Catholic Charities of Long Island and that’s why no other name fits so perfectly.

4/2020

by Laura A. Cassell, CEO

My recently retired brother, Eddie, took on the considerable task of digging out the old Lionel train sets that my father got for us as little children.  Every Christmas, Dad would erect a table in the tiny free space available in our cramped living room and he’d create a winter wonderland of scenes through which our respective trains passed.  Back then, it was a big deal to purchase each car and the tracks, engines and accessories that went along with them. Dad began the initial negotiations with Mom shortly after Eddie was born, somehow managing to invest in that first small train set.  When my other brother came along, the train system expanded. When I joined the family, my brothers upgraded to the new train lines and I took over command of that first locomotive. It was truly a family affair, with Dad as head of the railroad system and each of us as engineers of our respective trains.

Every year the scenes and layout varied, but there was always a glorious ice skating rink fashioned with tinfoil that was graced with elegantly clad skaters. There were the snow-covered mountains upon which the skiers sped downhill and the cowboys on horses and Indians with canoes who frolicked just beyond the bustling rail stations.  It was quite a project to set up the villages complete with characters, sleds and cars, to say nothing of laying the tracks, setting up the transformers, and electrifying the system to get all three train lines moving simultaneously. When it was finally done, Dad would lower the lights and we’d start our engines. What excitement there was!  Dad would coach me on the controls and then I’d take over, slowly accelerating the speed until he cautioned us all to slow down.

When my brother pulled out the boxes, these memories flooded over us.  Good grief, I remember that exploding box car and this missile launcher! And how about the adorable caboose and playful bumper car!  Each box ignited another avalanche of memories and stories about this treasured, family tradition.  As Eddie caressed each section of track and cable, he remembered the loving way Dad had touched those very same old, dusty pieces, and it was so deeply moving to feel such a tangible connection with our father who has been gone from this world for nearly 20 years.  What a gift!  We don’t have a lot of photographs of those trains, but the vivid memories are far better than any image we could have taken with the old Polaroid camera.

Today, everyone is so busy taking selfies and other shots with their smartphones that we have more pictures than we have time to scroll through them.  But selfies aren’t memories – they simply capture a moment that is often mere vanity.  If it’s not to your satisfaction, you delete it and keep snapping until you capture the image that you want to push out to friends and followers. Does it really matter whether others like my shoes? Or what I’m eating for lunch?

1/2020

by Laura A. Cassell

I’m often described as an “eternal optimist” and I guess I’m guilty as charged.  In fact, I can’t imagine being involved in this charitable mission of our Church without a well-developed sense of hope and an acute appreciation for the boundlessness of the human spirit.  

That’s why I was floored earlier this year when freshman Congresswoman, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez questioned whether it was still wise to have children in the face of climate change.  It sent me reeling.  Notwithstanding the flaws in her hypothesis, my immediate reaction was profound sadness that she would hold and promote such a pessimistic world view. Throughout history, children have been born despite horrendous conditions – famine, holocaust, war, epidemic, inequality.  Nonetheless, their parents hoped for and worked toward a future for them that would be more promising.  Bringing a child into the world is by its very nature, an act of loving optimism. It says that despite the blunders and hardships of this particular moment, we believe that child has the capacity to make the world a better place.  It means we believe in a God who forgives our trespasses and who continues to bless us abundantly. We pass that faith to this beautiful, new life so that he or she will eventually become a blessing to the community and the world.  

Optimism springs from faith. So, perhaps the secularization of our society is partly to blame for the growing pessimism in our world.  A recent study indicates that egregious misperceptions are fueling a sense of hopelessness around the globe.  While it revealed that hardly anyone thinks the world is getting better, actual statistics and facts tell a very different story.  Key indicators of human well-being have dramatically improved all over the world in just the past two centuries.  As recently as 1950, 75% of the world’s population suffered from extreme poverty. Today that number is less than 10%.  Education is another key factor.  Whereas literacy used to be for just a few elite, today 8 out of 10 people can read and write worldwide!  And child mortality shows similar progress, moving from 40% in 1800 to less than 1% today. The truth is the world is getting better! If our predecessors had adopted Ms. Ocasio-Cortez’s view, none of this progress would have been possible.

Yet the media, politicians and professors continue to paint a bleak picture that negatively influences so many, especially our youth.  Instead of accelerating progress by synching their passion with the latest technological and healthcare advancements, too many young people are discouraged and anxious, numbing their pain with drugs and suicide.

In response to the Congresswoman’s musings, former Governor of Arkansas, Mike Huckabee, made a brilliant observation.  He suggested that environmentalists who disavow having children seem to be putting creation ahead of the Creator.  If we get the order right, we realize that God’s desire is for us is to lovingly welcome and train the next generation of problem solvers.  We are a part of His process and He wants us to play a role in caring for the world He has made.  

12/2019

by Laura A. Cassell, CEO 

A few months ago, one of the cellular phone carriers aired a television commercial that touched my heart. It featured a grandmother who was transformed by a smart phone that was imposed upon her by family. While Grandma was initially reluctant to even fiddle with this new-fangled gadget, she quickly progressed to texting, taking selfies, playing games and communicating with her grandchildren more than ever before. Eventually one of her granddaughters even helped Grandma post photos from her youth. They revealed to the entire younger generation the remarkable beauty, joy, heartache, trials and countless memorable experiences of their grandmother’s amazing life. The message was punctuated by the statement, “everyone realized they had been so worried about HOW grandma was, they had never stopped to ask WHO she was.”  

What a remarkable observation! We are once again reminded that in today’s fast paced world that it’s way too easy to reduce life to a checklist of tasks rather than to live and love in each precious moment.  This is an especially significant realization as Christmas and all its hustle and bustle fast approaches.  Perhaps you’re already wondering how you’ll finish all the shopping and dreaded gift-wrapping. Maybe it’s how you’ll find time to write cards, bake or cook. Or you might be geared up for the day after Thanksgiving and are already planning how to decorate your home. It’s natural to be a bit overwhelmed, but that’s what robs us of the season’s meaning and joy.  

Advent is our time to anticipate the gift of Jesus, our Lord and Savior. Everything else is just a distraction from that one singular, most important to-do. So this year I respectfully suggest we heed the message of that wireless commercial and stay focused on the WHO of this Holy season. But HOW can that be done?

Well, we can begin by focusing on those words.  Just move the W and suddenly HOW becomes WHO. Then gradually go through your Christmas to-do list and replace the HOW with WHO.  WHO is the recipient of this greeting, this gift, these treats?  WHO will be around my Christmas table? WHO will be missing but be in our hearts? WHO will delight in the lights and décor? You’ll find that as we pen each card, wrap each package and bake each batch of cookies, the season will become a time of true appreciation for our loved ones. And gratitude flows from appreciation.        

This simple exercise will also help us see the reflection of Jesus in their familiar faces. Every kindness we share, each thoughtful message we write, every embrace will be a celebration of His love for us.  By keeping those we love in the bull’s eye of our preparations and celebrations, we keep Jesus at the center as well.  And that’s really the whole point of this holy season.

10/2019

by Laura A. Cassell, CEO

There’s been an outbreak of joy at my parish that started several months ago.  I would have missed how it all began if I hadn’t been seated directly behind a particular family at Mass one weekend.  This familiar young couple is often at the same service that my husband and I attend and I can recall when they were expecting the adorable baby boy they now held in their arms.  Just a few months old and already quite alert their son was making remarkable eye contact with everyone around him and accompanied his brilliant gaze with an even more brilliant smile.  The gentle coos that escaped from him simply added a bit of garnish to his charm.  And it’s this happy fellow that started this wave of gladness.

At every mass since, much to the delight of anybody in the pews around him, he showers fellow parishioners with intent gazes and glorious grins that never seem to fade.  This little guy exudes joy and it’s absolutely contagious! And each week it’s easy to narrow down where this happy, wide-eyed child of God is.  All you have to do is look for the beaming faces together in one pew and there he is in front of them. These days the whole church looks for him, no doubt to get a dose of the cheerfulness he radiates.  This littlest person has unwittingly set a marvelous tone for our worship.  

Now this beloved bundle could not possibly understand the words of the liturgy or the sacredness of the place he occupies. Yet, somehow he seems to appreciate the spirit of the ceremony, the proclamation of the Word in prayer and song and the absolute love that surrounds him from his parents to all those with whom he connects. Every aspect of the Mass delights him and he undeniably derives some satisfaction from being part of this special community.

While observing this phenomenon it occurred to me that God bestows the gift of the mass on everyone – young and old and everyone in between.  It is just as important to our Lord that even the littlest child find solace in Him as it is that we do.  And scripture tells us that Christ’s love for every one of us is so abundant, so all-encompassing that we can’t begin to imagine how deep it is.  Jesus said, “Even the hairs of your head have all been counted. Do not be afraid.” (Luke 12:7)

So maybe it’s our familiarity with going to Mass for so many years that blinds us to just how great a gift it is.  Maybe we’ve lost sight of the fact that in receiving communion that we receive Christ Himself.  But what a wonderful reminder children like this are for us! At Mass we experience the very real presence of our Lord and Savior in the sacrament of the Eucharist. We are not in any way thwarted or blocked from access to God.  In fact, we are each personally invited to enter directly into communion with Him! What could possibly bring us more joy than that? Imagine, we can’t get a reservation at a fancy restaurant somewhere, but there’s nothing stopping us from experiencing the tenderness of our creator firsthand.  

6/2019

by Laura A. Cassell, CEO

When an unexpected mishap left me stranded without a smartphone for three days recently, my reaction was rather alarming.  It was the weekend and my immediate concern was that I would somehow be unavailable for any work-related emergencies.  Now keep in mind that my colleagues also have my home phone number on our emergency contact list so I knew my high degree of anxiety was not particularly rational.  Nonetheless, I couldn’t seem to shake it. I feared that they’d miss me while I was running errands or visiting my mother, so I tried to stay home as much as possible.    

To compound matters, I was scheduled to drive to a meeting in the Bronx on Monday and I found myself fretting about the possibility of something going wrong. What if I got a flat and needed to call for help? What if I got lost? I again tried to coax myself off this cliff by recalling that for decades, since I was 17, I drove everywhere absolutely carefree before smartphones had even been invented.  Needless to say, this did not ease the gnawing sense of doom about driving to the Bronx “unconnected.”  

My mind then raced with unlikely scenarios.  What if I suddenly had to leave for a foreign country without my phone? What if a loved one had a medical emergency and I was missing their text messages? What if my associates overseas were trying to reach me through What’s App? When I ran out of paralyzing what-if scenarios I began to think about silly things. I’m going to fall behind on my daily Italian lessons. I’m going to miss my husband’s “thinking of you” texts. I’ll be unable to google the answer to something I need to know right that instant!

It was exhausting and frankly, nerve-wracking. When had this device become the center of my life?  It was frightening to confront my dependence on this phone and the irrational sense of disconnection and isolation I felt in its absence.  As I reflected upon the angst I was feeling, I wondered what impact all this had on our children, many of whom have NEVER known life without smartphones.  In all the busyness of their young lives, they must certainly feel uneasy should they put the phone down for even a brief moment.

It seems undisputable that excessive smartphone usage leads to anxiety. Professionals warn us that it can be an addictive. We have studies directly linking usage to spikes in the stress-related hormone cortisol and there are plenty of painful statistics that tie smartphones to depression. Despite the evidence, the average American is glued to the screen for an average of four hours a day.  

I can’t help but think of what Jesus Himself told us in Matthew, chapter 6:  “Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?” Jesus very plainly assures us that He alone is the remedy for anxiety. And if we truly can’t add a single moment by worrying, why cling to the smartphones that cause us so much anxiety?