Advent always begins in darkness. It tells the truth about the world as it is— a world where violence wounds lives and communities, where incarceration separates families, and where fear too often speaks louder than hope. And yet, Advent also insists that the story does not end in darkness. For those who live under the weight of isolation— for survivors of violence, for their families, for communities whose resources are stretched thin— the promise of Advent is not a naïve denial of pain. It is a quiet, steady flame that refuses to go out. This season reminds us that God does not wait for the world to be tidy or whole before drawing near. God comes into the places where the night is longest— into prison cells and courtrooms, into hospital waiting rooms, into homes where grief has taken up residence— and whispers, “I am here.” Advent hope is not passive. It is the hope that allows us to take the next step, to believe that healing is possible, to accompany one another with tenderness and courage. It is the hope that teaches us to look for light before we can see it fully. As we move through this season, may we honor the truth of the darkness without being claimed by it. May we carry hope not as a fragile wish, but as a reason to continue— a reason to keep showing up, to keep loving, to keep believing that God’s dawn is already on its way. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. Amen.

The following text is an excerpt from an article of the same title, first published on the RJHubs website by Karlyn Boens. Joe’s story brought these themes to life on a human scale. “I never had a chance to be a kid,” he shared. Growing up in constant survival mode, childhood was something he had to skip to stay alive. At PBMR, he experienced something different: “I could let my hair down. I discovered I was good at talking to people.” What Joe encountered was radical hospitality and accompaniment—restorative practices that rarely appear in legislation or policy yet quietly transform lives every day. Where systems had seen risk, PBMR saw relationship. Where institutions had offered surveillance, PBMR offered presence and belonging. His story illustrated what it looks like when the human rights lens is made concrete: a space where connection, dignity, and possibility are not conditional, but assumed. This conversation captures what restorative justice demands of us in Illinois. It is not about launching more programs or pilots. It is about: A paradigm shift in how we understand safety A culture shift in how institutions wield power A system shift in how decisions are made, data is collected, and accountability is defined Imagine an Illinois where: Human rights guide decision-making Restorative justice is the standard, not the exception Communities lead the healing Data includes lived experience, not just charges and convictions Redemption is not selective Adults are not excluded from restoration And every child has the chance to just be a child  This panel did not hand us easy answers. Instead, it offered an invitation—a call to build the ecosystem our communities have been waiting for, one relationship, one policy, one practice at a time.

I remember that as a kid, I struggled with the notion of Original Sin. I am not sure if it was the way it was taught or my simple mind, but I thought it unfair to slap a sin on a newborn child. Today, I understand it not as a personal fault or sin, but that a child is born into a wounded world. How many times have we said that our youth today have a lot more to deal than we did? Our society is wounded; it is ill, and, dare I say, sinful. That is not a Democrat or Republican thing; not right or left’ it is all us contributing to a world in which too many are suffering. The other day, at the Cook County Juvenile Temporary Detention Center, I was talking with a young man of only 15 years old who told me he had been in over 20 different group homes and foster homes. Another young man who comes to the PBMR Center almost daily says he had been in 14 different schools before his high school years. When asked why, he responded that his mother was unable to keep up with all the bills. “We kept being put out with nowhere to go.” So often, the focus is on the individual faults or failings: a mother unable to care properly for her children, single parent families, and so on, but we overlook the societal sins that wreak havoc on families and communities; the fact that so many have so much, and others struggle to make do from day to day. Pope Leo XIV has recently put out an Apostolic Exhortation ─ a Pope’s call to the faithful for virtue ─ entitled Dilexi Te , or “ I have loved you. ” It is a continuation of the Encyclical ─ a stronger call from the Pope to all bishops of the Church ─ that Pope Francis wrote, Dilexit Nos , or “ He loved us. ” In this, Pope Leo’s first exhortation, he states that the “love of the Lord, then, is one with the love of the poor.” Explaining his choice of that name, Pope Francis related how, after his election, a Cardinal friend of his embraced him, kissed him, and told him, “Do not forget the poor.” He obviously took that to heart in choosing the name Francis after St. Francis of Assisi. Our love for one another brings us closer to a God who is love. Pope Leo says, “the poor are not just people to be helped, but the sacramental presence of the Lord.” For my entire priesthood, I have worked on the South Side of Chicago, the jails, the Detention Center, and with those who suffer violence. I can say that of all education, formation and teaching, nothing has brought me closer to the love of God than those who are suffering incarceration and poverty. Today, we hear of the plight of those who have come to this country seeking a better life. We can argue about policy; we can argue about secure borders; but we cannot deny that the gospel and all of scripture compels us to love the stranger among us. The call of the Church has been to accompany the migrant. My own congregation came to the US accompanying the German immigrants who came to this country in search of a better life. Fr. Greg Boyle, Jesuit priest, shares in his book, “ Cherished Belonging, ” that there are two parades the day Jesus enters Jerusalem. There is Pilate and his show of military power and force, heading to Jerusalem from the west. Then, there’s Jesus, on a small donkey humbly entering the city from the east. Jesus’ trek and mission displays a way of life whose hallmarks are inclusion, nonviolence, unconditional loving, kindness, and compassionate acceptance. The parade of warhorses announces the threat of violent force, coercion, and the oppression of the poor. The “triumphant” entrance of Jesus is not an indictment, but an invitation. Village transcending tribe. Jesus doesn’t draw lines, He erases them. (Boyle, p. 87-88) Martin Luther King’s last book was called “ Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community? ” We find our way out of chaos and its dispiriting tribalism by standing against forgetting that we belong to one another. (Boyle, p. 89) There is an Irish saying: “It is in the shelter of each other that people live.” As Christians ─ as believers ─ we are called to be shelter for one another. We are called to believe that no one is born evil; that all are created in the image of the One who is love. Pope Leo is calling us to be mindful of the migrant; to remember our own origin as a church and the gospel mandate to love our sisters and brothers – no exception. In his writing, Pope Leo says very clearly, “The Church has always recognized in migrants a living presence of the Lord who, on the day of judgement, will say to those on his right, ‘I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.’ (Mt 25:35) We should not forget who we are and in whose shelter we live.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Contact: Davon Clark, Communications Manager Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation dclark@pbmr.org At Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation (PBMR), we are rooted in the belief that every person is created in the image of God and deserving of dignity, safety, and belonging . In this moment of heightened fear and uncertainty following the deployment of federal agents and National Guard troops in our city, we reaffirm our steadfast commitment toward those values. Our dignity and sense of safety should never be determined by our legal status . We know from experience that true safety does not come from the sword, but from the relationship we forge with one another. Our communities long for peace, but a peace that is built through trust, opportunity, and a sense of belonging . The increased militarization in our neighborhoods risks deepening fear and trauma among families already struggling to heal from generations of violence, poverty, and marginalization. PBMR stands in solidarity with all who seek justice and peace through nonviolence, dialogue, and accompaniment . We will continue to open our doors to those in need and walk alongside our neighbors, especially those most marginalized. We call upon all leaders to remember the sacred dignity of every person, to act with compassion and restraint, and to prioritize approaches that restore rather than divide. Together, we can choose a path rooted not in fear, but in unity and the wellbeing of every person . ##

I used to joke that when Sr. Donna retired, she’d have one final Mother’s Circle, in which she'd move from mother to mother, laying hands and pronouncing, “healed.” And it would be so. My time as a Precious Blood Volunteer at PBMR had ended before that bittersweet day came, so I guess I can only presume that that’s not what happened at that last gathering. But one of the things that PBMR taught me was that this vision of a quick fix does a disservice to the beauty and profundity of the healing journey. A conversation with Catherine, a mother in PBMR’s Family Forward program, played a key role in shaping that understanding. I interviewed Catherine as a part of producing the first season of PBMR’s podcast, Together We Heal , which gave me the opportunity to interview multiple mothers involved in Family Forward. We'd originally met at PBMR’s Spare Some Love Bowl-a-Thon. We were on the same team, but amid the strobe lights and ultraviolet glow of the alley, the conversation and clamor of the surrounding lanes, and the constant rotation of turns as we played, we hadn’t talked much. We met to record in PBMR’s music studio: a cozy space with blankets on the ceiling that help prevent echoes. I had DIY-ed a podcast set-up, placing two microphones on the small circular table that was in the room and placing foam panels between them for sound quality (and, if I’m being honest, aesthetics). When we sat down, I started recording, welcomed Catherine to the show, and asked how she became involved with Family Forward. This introductory question, meant to ease us into the conversation, plunged us into heavier topics when Catherine responded by explaining that her son had been shot (thankfully, he survived). That story, though, was paired with a recounting of the accompaniment she received from PBMR, and the themes of love and community continued throughout the interview. You can listen to our conversation here .

In the afternoon of August 27th, after a gunman opened fire on students and staff of Annunciation Catholic School, where 2 children were killed and 18 children and 3 adults (in their 80’s) were wounded, the principal of the school took the microphone. You could feel the impact of what had just happened in his words; his voice quivered with deep emotion as he spoke. He quoted an African proverb: “when you pray, move your feet.” I am guessing in his heart were the countless individuals and communities who reached out to express their prayers and thoughts. I am guessing, too, that he chose that quote to express his deep desire that, while prayers and good thoughts are important, action is needed. The gun debate comes up each time there is a tragedy such as the Annunciation school shooting. There are those who want to limit gun purchases with background checks and limiting access to assault weapons and the like. Others don’t feel guns are the issue at all. In fact, there are calls for more guns: arming teachers, armed security guards in schools, etc. And while this debate continues, children ready themselves with shooter drills, and administrators fortify the school. I am sure many parents have hard conversations with their children. Amid it all, little is done. In the time since starting this reflection two more shootings have taken place at schools in Colorado and Utah. There will be another shooting, and the debate will ignite once again. Recently, I attended a trial of two young brothers accused of killing a mother of two small children. The trial lasted four days and the family of the young woman killed heard the detailed description of the killing. The pain of losing their daughter, sister and mother was engraved on their faces. The young men sat quietly as they were portrayed as heartless killers. In his book Cherished Belonging , Fr. Greg Boyle SJ writes, “surely we can hold something as horrible and not make monsters out of anyone.” He goes on to say that we do not make progress when we demonize. As I sat in that courtroom, the pain of what happened filled the room. The tear-soaked faces of both the families were visible. Both families suffered. The devastation was palpable. The young men received their sentences: 34 years for the young brother who was not convicted of the shooting and 60 years for the older brother. The courtroom emptied in silence. Both families left to deal on their own with the devastation of losing their loved ones. Precious Blood spirituality calls us to stand amid such pain, tension and conflict and not give in to hurling stones at one another. The power of the spirituality of the Precious Blood is that we can hold that pain without inflicting more pain. When we are willing to hold the pain or the conflict and treat one another with respect – even while we strongly disagree – there is a possibility of positive action. Answers may not come easily, but a pathway forward becomes more visible. It may take longer than we are comfortable with, but if we tend to the relationships and not just hold on to our side of the issue, ways forward become possible. Nathaniel Samuel reminds us in his book, “When Stories Wound,” that we have always had strong disagreements. There has always been polarization in society, but what has changed is the narratives we create around the ones we disagree with. Today, more than ever it seems, we dehumanize the other side, thus making it easier to do them harm. Stereotypes deny the complex story that each one of us carries. Samuel reminds us that deep narratives make their appeal not just to our minds, but more importantly to our emotions. He says that strong feelings like anger, suspicion, denial and hate emerge. Precious Blood spirituality is a spirituality of interconnectedness. When one suffers, we all suffer. It calls us to seek first understanding and relationship and then, and only then, break open the pathway forward. Fr. David Kelly, C.PP.S. Executive Director, Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation

by Fr. Denny Kinderman, C.PP.S.

by Sr. Donna Liette, C.PP.S.

Along with many others around the world, PBMR is saddened by the death of Pope Francis. His example and unwavering love and support of the poor and marginalized of the world will remain with all of us as an example of faithful living. Especially close to his heart were incarcerated men, women and children. While we will miss his tireless advocacy of the marginalized, his example should be a call to all of us to stand for those who are most vulnerable.