Thought Series |The Paschal Mystery and the Power of Presence: Being There on Behalf of the Father

The word presence carries within it the meaning of “being there.” Often, we speak about people having a physical presence, while at the same time not being attentive to the moment or aware of themselves. In other words, a person may be seen physically there but inwardly disengaged and his mind and spirit absorbed elsewhere. So, the act of being there seems to have two dimensions: it includes both a physical and a spiritual awareness of one’s environment.

From a Catholic point-of-view – or Christian’s point of view – the act of being there always includes these two dimensions. However, our self-awareness or spiritual presence in real-time consists of two further aspects. When we are being there in the company of others, we hold the best interest of the other person.

We see this in the most elementary form of friendship of love. We die to self and rise beyond our ego for the sake of the other. For example, spouses give themselves over to each other in costly love; parents sacrifice themselves out of love for their children. (Lane, pg. 112).

The self-aware act of being there in the best interest of the other is not merely about our desire to be present but rather about our being there on behalf of another. We are often prompted by someone else – or by an institution – to act for the sake of another.

For example, it is in the best interest of the patron that I service alcohol responsibility as a bartender, but it is on Liquor License’s authority that prompts this responsibility. The same applies to educators and public servants – their representatives being the board of education and department of governments, respectively.

Jesus’ incarnation and ministry embodies this concept of being there for others. His historical life, as recorded in scripture, presents a God physically among his people, divided by social, economic and political tension. He acts consistently in the best interest of others, as seen in his preaching, healing and the feeding of the crowd.

Yet, though he loves us, he is present as one sent by another – his heavenly Father. Being there, it seems, involves more than physical presence and self-awareness. In Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection we discover that truly being there is rooted in the will and love of another – the source of agency – whose love calls us to act in the best interest of the other.

The Paschal mystery encompasses Jesus’ life, ministry, death, resurrection and ascension into heaven. We experience and celebrate these mysteries through our participation in the sacraments.

According to the Magisterium, the celebration of the sacraments is not an enactment on repeat of Christ’s life but instead a representation of them in the present done repeatedly. By representation, the Church teaches that Jesus truly makes himself present through the minister’s own actions. In other words, although Jesus has ascended to heaven, he is still here with us – even where his physical presence is not seen.

Jesus’ real-time presence through the sacraments is not a magical act nor a symbolic gesture of his love. It is God’s reality in the liturgy however our reception to it depends on our openness to it (Desiderio Desideravi §45).

If we explore the roots of the word pascal, we discover it highlights the theme of “passing over.” In the Old Testament, we read that God passed over the Israelites to save them. This links to one of the two sacramental structural realities of the sacrament, which is oriented towards salvation – the already now, but not yet.

If God passed over then for Israel, and then passed over again in Christ’s humanity, it follows that he continues to be here – fully present to our need of being saved, acting in the best interest of our reality – thanks to the Father’s love – through the sacraments.  

In this way, we, as one people in one moment of time, experience God’s continued act of saving each and every one of us. His being here is not as a passing visitor to our world: he has taken up permanent residence.

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Recharge Series | Deliberately Fighting Evil One Outstretched Hand at a Time

 

Friday Gospel Recharge Series 

Reflection on Luke 5: 12–16 | Friday after the Epiphany, Year C – 2025

Some people perceive God as violent. Critics argue that God is violent because He permits atrocities, whether caused by natural phenomena or human actions. They argue that if God were truly a non-violent person, he would intervene to end suffering caused by violence.¹ These critics too often point to the Old Testament, highlighting accounts of violence and say God has a violent past. While this may seem like a fair argument at first glance, a careful reading of scripture reveals that God never deliberately nor directly causes violence. The biff and the blood spilled is consistently the results of human actions.

In today's Gospel, we read of an encounter Jesus had with a leper. Although the passage does not directly address violence, the life of a leper in biblical times was marked by its own form of hardship and suffering. When we view human flourishment is closely tied to meaningful interaction with others, lepers lived isolated lives, often relegated to the peripheries of society, with minimal opportunities for interaction. Such a lifestyle inevitably violated peace and caused profound suffering in their lives. 

In this passage, Jesus brings emotional relief to the leper, allowing him to draw close. This encounter gives the leper an opportunity to connect and bond with Jesus satisfying his urge for community - an experience he had been denied due to his disease and societal stigma. Yet, Jesus' decision to let the leper approach and touch him posed a perceived risk to the wider community. There was a reason why this man had been segregated from the rest of the community: his disease was contagious, meaning that it could be transmitted during close and frequent contact, so as a result the leper was shunned from fellowship.

Violence, by definition, involves the intent to hurt someone. Jesus in this passage is not depicted to intently hurt nor undermine anyone of the community. Instead, He is purely fixed on the wellbeing of the leper. Jesus knows his physical and emotional pain brought upon him by the disease. Moreover, Jesus knows his own ability and behind this a genuine willingness that corresponds with his ability to heal.  Therefore, without expressing any emotions, Jesus stretches forth his hand and touches the leper, releasing him from the disease that has excluded him from community participation. Because of Jesus' ability to heal and his corresponding will to reconcile the leper, the risk of violating the community is negligible. Jesus did not disrupt the serenity of the community when he allowed the leper to approach him for healing. Jesus could not and would not have brought violence upon the community as he is intent on achieving good in the world.

For those who perceive God as violent, Jesus' actions in this Gospel challenge that perspective and reveal God's goodness in a profound way. Jesus, who is Son of God and is also God, demonstrates that God's actions are inherently good. God shows his goodness by ending the violence the leper had endured due to leprosy. Not only does Jesus releases the leper from the violence caused by this disease, but His action is also deliberately authentic. This authenticity is reflected in His command to "go and show yourself to the priest." Jesus is not concerned with proving His obedience to the law prescribed in Leviticus 14 - especially since He has already violated it by touching an unclean man, an act forbidden by the law. Instead, Luke emphasises that Jesus' focus is on the authenticity of the healing, which only the priests of Israel can declare, allowing the leper to be reintegrated immediately into the people of God.

This Gospel offers us a clear lesson: while God is not violent in his ways, we are called to oppose the sin of violence. Our stance against this evil must be authentic. Authenticity is found when we allow God to work through us, offering all our resources and ability to protect others so they may live in and have inner peace. After all, as Jesus reminds us - not in this Gospel, but in an earlier one, "blessed are the peacemakers, they will be called sons of God" (Matthew 5: 9).

Let us begin by rejecting the misunderstanding that God is violent - our first step in opposing this sin and living as true peacemakers.

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I may earn a commission for purchases made through these links, at no cost to you. 

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1 If you read through some of my older posts, you will notice I promote primary and secondary works on Thomas Aquinas, the greatest philosopher and theologian of all time. At least in my opinion. If you are after indepth perspective on the topic of violence you will find Thomas Aquinas on War and Peace by Gregory M. Reichberg a reputable resource. [Click here] for a copy. Peace in the Thought of Thomas Aquinas by John M Meinert and Gregory M Reichberg is also a well-respected resource. [Click here] for a copy. You will have access to these resources if you sign up to a local theological library near you - so I commend you to also signing up. ^↩

Recharge Series | Do You Have to See to Believe?

 

Friday Gospel Recharge Series

Reflection on John 20: 2-8 | Friday in the Christmas Octave, Year C - 2024

Do you have to see to believe? Often, this is the narrative many people present when challenged about the existence of God. But in reality, do we really have to see in order to believe something to be real? When the first person stepped onto the moon, the world celebrated it as a huge leap for mankind and no doubt it was. However, not everyone witnessed it firsthand. I wasn’t around in the late 1960s to witness it. I trust the event took place due to historical records. 

A more recent and relatable example of unseen belief involves the world of cryptocurrency and the stock market – fields that test the faith of both believers and sceptics. Consider the speculation surrounding investments in cryptocurrencies or stocks. Do we see tangible proof of their promised returns before investing? Many people trust word-of-mouth projections about stable coins like XRP or high-profile stocks like SpaceX, relying on speculation rather than definitive evidence Yet, as history shows, many lose their investments when those expectations do not materialise. This modern dynamic mirrors the struggle to believe in something unseen – a challenge that has persisted through history.

While many demand evidence for the existence of God, our contemporaries are not alone in needing to see in order to believe. In today’s Gospel, we read of the disciples struggle with faith in the resurrection. This doubt is first illustrated in Mary Magdalene’s initial reaction. Although a devotee of Jesus who hastened to the tomb once the sabbath was over, she ran to Peter saying, “they have taken the Lord out of the Tomb.” These words reflect her uncertainty. To have believed, she would have remembered those Jesus’ own words: “The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men. They will kill him, and after three days he will rise,” and declared he had risen instead.

Mary Magdalene is not alone in her doubt. When she informs Peter of the empty tomb, his first response is to run and inspect it himself. He does not reassure her that Jesus had risen. In a similar fashion, John, the beloved disciple, ran after Peter, as though something wrong had happened. 

The darkness of doubt pervading the minds of these disciples is clear then. Even with Jesus’ words about rising on the third day they could not fathom how he could rise after the crucifixion. St Thomas Aquinas¹ explains their mindset, noting that the Evangelist hints at their condition of their minds when he wrote: “while it was still dark.” They ran to the tomb not knowing nor understanding, running about in darkness (Ps 81:5). However, it is not until the disciple John sees “the cloth that had been over his head” that his doubt transforms to belief. By seeing, he moves from the darkness of doubt into the light of belief. 

The cloth that John notices is described as rolled up and set apart from the other garments. Parents everywhere might think this is a verse for their children: kids be good and fix your beds. This seemingly minor detail is one with great significance. St Thomas Aquinas explains the head cloth symbolised Christ’s divinity. In Ancient Near East tradition, the heads of royals, priests or self-proclaimed divine figures were adorned with distinct burial garments to signify their unique status or divinity. John would have understood this tradition. If the head cloth was with the other garments, he wouldn’t have taken much notice as it’s not that important. However, it’s separation emphasised Jesus’ divine status, leading John to recognise that he had risen. 

This brings us back to the original question: must we see to believe? While John needed to see the head cloth to trust in the resurrection, he did not witness Jesus before him in the flesh. This Gospel shows that the concept of doubt is real and even the disciples experienced it, yet the faith is a gift open to us. To receive this gift, we must step out of our carnal tendency towards doubt and trust in the unseen. We do this daily- believing in events, markets or truths we have not witnessed. Similarly, God provides signs in our lives, just as he provided one for John. When these opportunities arise, our task is to recognise them, step into the mystery of faith, and carry out the commandments obediently, trusting that remains true to his message of hope that we will rise with him on the last day.

Taking a risk on the unseen of God cost us nothing except our time and trust. Unlike misplaced investments or speculative ventures, saying yes to God does not leave us out of pocket. Instead, He fills the pockets of our hearts with peace, joy and love, the three very things we naturally desire which can only be satisfied through pursuit of truth and loyalty to God’s heart. On this Friday within the Octave of Christmas, let’s step out of our comfort zone, and embrace the mysteries of Jesus’ message of hope so that we may inherit a better future.

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I may earn a commission for purchases made through these links, at no cost to you. 

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1 If you are serious about biblical exegesis or would like to study this text further, I recommend the commentary on John’s Gospel by Aquinas. Most modern-day exegetes are excellent but Aquinas by far is one of the best sources we have on this Gospel. He will not disapoint. [Click here] if you would like a copy of the text. Otherwise, sign up to a theological library near you and borrow these sources. It does not hurt however to have your own collection of resources at hand.^↩

Recharge Series | Nuh Yeh Nuh Yeh Nuh Yeh: Embrace the Unexpected and Say 'Yes' to God

 Friday Gospel Recharge Series

Reflection on Luke 1: 26–38 | 3rd Friday of Advent, Year C – 2024

Have you ever experienced an unexpected event? We all, regardless of our circumstance – whether rich or poor, healthy or unwell, thriving or struggling – encounter moments that catch us off guard and demand quick action. Last week, a dear friend of mine faced one of these moments. It was deeply stressful – though, of course, not all unexpected events are negative. She had lost her job and was asked to leave. Questioning why this had happened, she began to feel her entire life was unravelling: her mortgage, her long-distance relationship, even whether she could keep the heating on. Struggling to make sense of this sudden and unfortunate change, she confided in me, wondering if her managers had seen her as incompetent or inadequate. To console her, and in my sincere belief, I reminded her of her strengths, professionalism, and resilience, assuring her that everything would improve. Yet, her experience is not unique; we all face unfavourable turn of events. 

 

On this second Friday of Advent, the Gospel¹ invites us to reflect on a very human experience – Mary’s encounter with the angel Gabriel. Though a woman of faith, we see that Mary was disturbed by her visitor and even questioned his message. ‘How can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ she asked when told she would bear a child and become the Mother of God. This reaction is profoundly human – an honest questioning in the face of something unimaginable.

 

Other key figures in the Gospel too, such as the disciples, questioned Jesus when confronted with challenges beyond their understanding. The disciples, for instance, asked, ‘How can one feed these people with one bread in the desert?’ Their question reflected doubt in Jesus’ ability to accomplish what seemed impossible.

 

Mary’s questioning mirrors our own when unexpected hardships strike - whether it is losing a job, facing an uncertain future, or grappling with troubling news. In these moments, we often panic, freeze, and struggle to find direction. Fear and despondency grip us, but the Gospel calls us to take a different path when we face situations that appear beyond our ability to comprehend: to recourse to God, who makes all things possible. Mary, though a great woman of faith, questioned God. Yet in the end, she trusted that He would not leave her with a task beyond her abilities. With this reassurance, she was able to respond, ‘Let what you have said be done to me.’

 

When we encounter unexpected events that threaten our existence, we must trust in God and the journey He is taking us on. If we remain trapped in doubt and invest solely on our own resources, we risk missing an - if not many - opportunities to do great things for God. Consider Mary’s impact she left on the Church. Her trust and her ‘yes’ changed history forever. Her response allowed Jesus to enter time and space, transforming hearts across continents. Her yes allowed Jesus to make known God’s love to the rich and poor alike, uniting people of all nations as His children. 

 

Imagine what we could accomplish if we, like Mary, surrendered to God’s will with those same words: ‘let what you have said be done to me.’ By trusting in God’s plans, we open ourselves to being instruments of change in the world. Like Mary, we can allow God to work through us, changing hearts and building bridges where there is division. In the Middle East, Europe, the South China Sea, and every corner of the world, courageous hearts are needed – hearts ready to surrender, to serve, and to leave an indelible mark of peace and renewal with the grace of God for generations to come.

 

In the face of the most unexpected events, this Gospel calls us to vigilance against the sin of doubt as we prepare for the coming of the Christ child. No matter how uncertain God’s will may seem, it is in providence that we are called to trust and follow. Do not let the question ‘how can this be’ inhibit us from doing great things this Christmas. 

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I may earn a commission for purchases made through these links, at no cost to you. 

Interested in faith-based sporting apparel that is simple, modest yet inspirational? I recommend checking out SAVD's apparels and accessories by [clicking here]. 

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1 If you are after an excellent translation of the Bible [click here]. I have also left a hyperlink in the body of the blog for your convenience. However, the New Revised Standard Version by Thomas Nelson can be found [here]. ^↩

Recharge Series | Investing in Jesus Is the Safest Gamble of All

 

Friday Gospel Recharge Series

Reflection on Matthew 9: 27–31 | 1st Friday of Advent, Year C – 2024

In the last month and a half, I have taken an interest in everything crypto without really giving it the due diligence it deserves, such as investing time in studying the crypto world before making a smart investment. This lack of research really comes down to my level of motivation to delve deeply into the technicalities and psychology of investing. I often find myself daunted by the jargon and the mental stamina required to fully grasp it all. Instead, I’ve been relying on trend lines, past performance, and hopeful predictions to decide whether to invest in a particular coin. Alongside this, I’ve recently started reading The Intelligent Investor, a book about investment strategies that which emphasizes patience and choosing the right stocks and bonds based on a company’s profitable operations and strong financial conditions. Based on what I’ve learned so far, I’m far from being a smart investor—I've simply chosen to be lazy.

Despite my lazy approach—and I’m not boasting, far from it—I’ve gotten lucky, managing to double my small initial investment. While this is hardly life-changing, it has taught me something valuable: every decision I make about a digital coin reminds me of the inherent risk. Should I sell now and potentially miss out on further profits, or should I hold and risk losing a portion—or even all—of my investment? Each decision feels like a gamble, balancing the potential for reward with the fear of loss.

But crypto isn’t the only area in life where we encounter risk. Most of the decisions we make carry some element of uncertainty. Whether it’s choosing a life partner, navigating career paths, or even following medical advice, every choice requires a leap of faith. Investing time in one activity over another—like reading instead of exercising or pursuing a side project instead of relaxing—is a gamble on how we allocate our time and resources. These risks are part of the fabric of life, yet they also offer opportunities for growth, fulfillment, and learning.

One risk, however, stands apart: taking a leap of faith in Jesus’ message. Unlike crypto or career decisions, faith in Jesus doesn’t demand material resources or exhaustive research. It simply requires us to invest our will in trusting Him. The blind men in Matthew 9:27-31¹ took that risk when they cried out, “Have mercy on us, Son of David!” They risked rejection, ridicule, and disappointment, but their faith was rewarded with healing and restoration. Jesus made them see again. Similarly, Jesus invites us to take the risk of aligning our lives with His teachings, promising that the return on this investment is life giving. It’s a gamble, yes, but one where the outcome—hope, peace, and a life rooted in grace—is worth far more than any temporary gain.

This Advent, as we await the arrival of the Christ child, let’s reflect on how often we’ve taken a risk on faith in Jesus compared to other investments. Do we find peace when we place our trust in Him, or does it leave us in discord? If we discover that faith in Jesus brings true peace, we can be confident that He is the safest and most rewarding investment we can make.

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I may receive a commission for purchases made through these links, at no cost to you.

Interested in faith-based sporting apparel that is simple, modest yet inspirational? I recommend checking out SAVD's apparels and accessories by [clicking here]. 

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1 I have included a hyperlink in the main text to direct you to a favourite and reliable translation of the New Testament. My preferred version is the RSV, an inclusive translation that uses exclusive language. However, if you are interested in a translation with more inclusive language, the NRSV is equally excellent. The main difference is that where the NRSV might use "humankind," the RSV renders it as "mankind." If you would like a Bible that consistently uses inclusive language, [click here] for highly recommended translation by Thomas Nelson. As a former seminarian, I had access to a wide range of scholarly resources, something I truly miss from those student days. If you [click here], you will be directed to an excellent resource – a transliteration of the Greek New Testament in English – ideal for seminarians or anyone interested in deepening their understanding of the original texts. Additionally, as mentioned previously, many local religious Orders have theological libraries open to the public, where you may access this resource for free if they are available. ^↩

Recharge Series | Eternal Words in a Passing World

 

Friday Gospel Recharge Series

A reflection on Luke 21: 29–33 | 34th Friday of Ordinary Time, Year B – 2024

Earlier this year, the Olympics debuted in Paris. After the grandeur of the opening ceremony and a few weeks of competition, the games concluded and faded from view, not to return for another four years. In the meantime, behind the scenes, athletes dedicate themselves to relentless preparation for the next games, which will unfold in a different country or even on another continent.

 

While the Olympics now reappear predictably every four years, this hasn’t always been the case. The modern Olympics, as we know them today, were first held in 1896 in Greece, the birthplace of the ancient games. Before their revival, the Olympics were abandoned for over 1,500 years, following a ban by Roman Emperor Theodosius, who viewed the games as pagan and un-Christian.

 

The rise and fall of the Olympics mirror the life cycles of many cultural phenomena. I remember, as a boy approaching adolescence, the rollerblading craze that swept through my community. Everyone flocked to skating rinks, and it seemed like the blades would never go out of style. But as the years passed, I traded my rollerblades for a skateboard, and when that phase ended, I picked up BMX riding to stay in sync with the trends of my youth. These fads faded, as they all do. Someday, even movie theatres might become obsolete as streaming services make new releases more accessible from the comfort of home. Cultural movements and traditions, no matter how significant, are fluid—they come and go.

 

This impermanence extends to political forces as well. Ancient Rome, once the dominant power of the Mediterranean and beyond, eventually crumbled. The mighty Ottoman Empire, which lasted centuries, was dismantled in the early 20th century. Even the British Empire, a global powerhouse for over 400 years, declined in the mid-20th century. Today, nations like Russia, China, and the United States vie for dominance, but history teaches us that no political force is everlasting.

 

In today’s Gospel, Jesus acknowledges this natural cycle of rise and decline. Using the image of a budding fig tree, he reminds us that just as trees have seasons, so do social structures, cultural traditions, and political powers. But then, he issues a striking warning: while all these things will fade, his Word will never pass away. His prophetic message—the coming of God’s kingdom—endures forever, unaltered by time or human manipulation, no matter how fiercely it is resisted.

 

When Jesus emphasizes that his words are eternal, he challenges us to revaluate our values and cling to him. Many of us find refuge in Jesus but struggle to remain faithful due to our weaknesses or fear of missing out on worldly pleasures. Others, lacking the gift of faith, see no reason to let go of earthly attachments. For Catholics, the knowledge that all things are held in God’s hands provides reassurance to persevere, even when faith is tested. Yet God calls us not to a marginal faith but to full commitment—embracing the mission of the Gospel, even at the cost of our reputation, livelihood, or life. In the end, only God’s Word promises lasting happiness; everything else is temporary and ultimately unfulfilling.

 

Today, we see people striving for power, hoarding resources, and seeking endless pleasure in an attempt to secure their futures. Yet, in the midst of this striving, there is an emptiness that these pursuits cannot fill. Power slips away, resources deplete, and pleasure fades, leaving us searching for something more enduring. Perhaps today is an opportunity to pause and consider: what am I striving for? Am I investing in the things that endure, or am I clinging to what will ultimately pass away? 

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Recharge Series | Ever Merciful: Through All Time and Circumstances

 

Friday Gospel Recharge Series

Reflection on Luke 8: 1-3 | 24th Friday of Ordinary Time, Year B – 2024

Since my time at the hospital as a chaplain in palliative care, I have found the work highly challenging. Breaking the ice with the dying and their loved ones is often difficult. The phrase “I’m sorry” is the first thing that comes to mind when I attempt to offer words of comfort, though I recognise that it is insufficient and often ill-timed. On one occasion, I mistakenly offered condolences to the family of a dying patient who, in fact, was still alive. Despite these struggles, I have been told that palliative care is a significant and important ministry.

 

More recently, I encountered a woman nearing the end of her life, with whom I had journeyed from the beginning of her time in care. This experience was different. My supervisor encouraged me to visit her, given that many of my previous attempts had often felt like missed connections rather than encounters. This particular patient experienced profound anxiety about death and took comfort in anyone’s presence. She was a gentle woman, and I found a quiet joy in simply sitting with her. While my presence may have provided her comfort, it was she who offered me a valuable opportunity for growth. I learned that enduring silence with the dying is a vital aspect of end-of-life-care, a lesson that shaped my understanding of this ministry. 

 

Through these sessions with her, I learned fragments of her life. She lacked the energy to speak much, yet she shared enough to reveal the source of her anxiety about her nearing death. She had been christened as an evangelical and attended church services that taught it was a sin to breathe sideways. When an irrational fear is instilled from the pulpit throughout one’s life, it is no surprise that she would carry that anxiety with her toward the end of life.

 

Like all of us, she was a sinner, though I did not know the specifics of her past. Whatever her sins may have been, we are all culpable when we sin. In today’s Gospel, Luke tells us that Jesus cured many women who were tormented by demons, one of whom had seven demons cast out. The significance of this number should not be overlooked, particularly for those who fear death, which, in truth, includes all of us. Luke emphasises that Mary Magdalene was a great sinner, so much so that her life was vulnerable to demonic possession. Her many sins left her bound by the devil.

 

What Luke the Evangelists seeks to convey is that the gravity or the number of our sins does not matter to God, as He always remains ready to forgive us. He has shown us this through the person of Mary Magdalene. We need not fear death if we approach God as sorrowful sinners. Death cannot separate us from God if we have the conviction to turn from sin and the courage to seek forgiveness. Even in our final moments, Jesus stands ready to forgive. A spec of His mercy is more powerful than all our sins combined. Our task, therefore, is to follow Him in the sacrament and to live as repentant sinners. In doing so, He will free us from the bondage of sin, the very sin that allows the devil to enter in our lives and make us spiritually sick. 

 

We are often shaped by what we seek. If we desire to be with God, where peace and prosperity reigns, our hearts must be conformed to His will. A key part of His will is His desire to forgive us and liberate us from sin. Let us turn to God in prayer, asking for His mercy, so that the temptations of the devil may no longer hold power over us.

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I may earn a commission for purchases made through these links, at no cost to you. 

Interested in faith-based sporting apparel that is simple, modest yet inspirational? I recommend checking out SAVD's apparels and accessories by [clicking here].