The Stones Will Cry Out

Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman • April 10, 2025
A pile of rocks of different sizes and colors.

I have a complicated relationship with evangelization.

 

I don’t think that we (I’m talking about 21st-century American Catholics here) have had much formation around what exactly it means to proclaim the Gospel. We don’t know how to do it. We don’t really want to do it. It sounds kind of scary and awkward. It sounds like knocking on strangers’ doors and yelling through the keyhole, “Have you accepted Christ as your Lord and Savior?” It sounds like arguing with friends and family. It sounds like a real pain.

 

I’m Catholic. I’m proud of being Catholic. I do my Catholic things in my Catholic house throughout my Catholic life. But is that enough?

 

All Christians are called to “wordless witness” in how they live their lives, writes Paul VI in the apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi — but this alone, he says, is “insufficient.” We must talk about Jesus. We must name him. We must speak of his life, his promises. We must proclaim him.

 

We must be loud enough that a Pharisee would cringe at us.

 

And yet — and Paul VI acknowledges this — it’s not actually evangelization if we do it so badly that nobody listens. If we “impose” truth on someone’s conscience instead of “proposing” it. If we make the mistake of thinking there is one singular way to share Christ with the great variety of personalities that exist in this world.

 

Dear reader, I am running out of column space, and still I have no answers for you, or for myself. I don’t know how to do it well. But I know we have to try. We have to pray. We have to reflect. We have to be patient. We have to be humble. We have to remember it’s about him and not about us.

 

Most of all, when we find ourselves confused and retreating into silence, we must remember Christ’s words: “If they keep silent, the stones will cry out.”

 

©LPi

Share

You might also like

LPi Blog

Photo of words in the Bible,
By Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman June 26, 2025
At first, the Apostles try to dodge the question. When Jesus confronts them — and make no mistake, it is a confrontation — with the question “Who do you say that I am?” they act like a man whose wife has just asked him if she looks fat in these jeans. The evasiveness of their answer puts politicians to shame: “Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Some say. But Jesus doesn’t let them off easy. He repeats himself. He wants an answer. “Who do you say that I am?” They all know the answer. They all believe the answer. And they all know the answer could get them thrown in prison or killed. Only Peter is brave enough to say it: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” People have a lot of opinions about God. They always have. They have a lot of opinions about Jesus and the Bible, about the Catholic Church and the Pope. Some of these opinions are well-founded, well-researched. Some of them are based in ignorance. Many are born of painful misunderstandings. But they are all just that: opinions. Some say. We know who Jesus is. We know who the Eucharist is. We know what the truth is. Amid the chaos and the violence and the excruciating loudness of this fallen world and all the words it shouts into the void about God and Jesus and right and wrong, we know . But will we answer? ©LPi
A collage of images from WeCreate
June 25, 2025
This guide highlights how WeCreate can support some of the most common parish ministries found in churches across the country.
A stained glass window shows Jesus feeding the 500.
By Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman June 19, 2025
It isn’t uncommon for me to get to the noon hour only to realize that I haven’t yet eaten anything that day.
More Posts