Happy Chinese New Year!

Posted by HolySmack on January 30, 2014

Humankind is expressed in many different cultures.

The Faith of the Catholic Church is also expressed in many different cultures, different forms, different rites. And since the Lunar New Year (aka: Chinese New Year, Tết, and Spring Festival) is today, I thought to share a few photos (from a photographer by the name of Tommy Chiu) of a beautifully expressed Taiwanese-Chinese Catholic Church, in the fullness of religious freedom (click the photos to zoom in!):

[The view from the street! Notice how warm it looks... lush plants, subtropical... definitely not amidst polar vortex.]

[The view from the street! Notice how warm it all looks… lush plants, subtropical… definitely not amidst polar vortex.]

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[Look! There’s a mural! You can tell by the clouds this ain’t Medieval or European or American or anything like that. Betcha neva seen Jesus look like that before!]

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[But we all know the real razzle-dazzle of a reverently raised Catholic church is inside! I mean, Benedict XVI did say that stained windows look dark and dreary outside, but from within… BAM!]

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[The ceiling! There ain’t an inch untouched by brush in this church! That’s what I’m talkin bout! The beauty of God moves us to create beauty!]

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Now there’s a lot going on up here, but let me tell you about one thing: the golden dragons. In Chinese culture, a dragon is not some wicked serpent of fire-breathing tendencies. Instead, Chinese dragons are benevolent, wise, generous, and celestial, yet also powerful and terrifying. In a word: angelic! I believe that us Chinese would have represented the angels in Heaven as dragon-like, not human-like (as the Western cultures have beautifully done, however).

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[Here we are, gazing up as we move through the nave.]

[Here we are, gazing up with childlike wonder as we move through the nave.]

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Notice the Christian symbols in all the circular frames on the ceiling? Also, the icons of the Stations of the Cross lining the wall, just below the windows?

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[Red columns support the ceiling here, probably columns of wood since Traditional Chinese architecture for sacred spaces tended toward precious woods (like teak) rather than precious stones.]

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[Looking up at the sanctuary, we see a Chinese depiction of the Holy Trinity: God the Father in the center, God the Son (left), and God the Holy Spirit (right).]

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The Son (Jesus Christ) is holding a lamb, the Holy Spirit has a dove, and I actually can’t tell what the Father is holding in this icon. We also can see images of the Communion of Saints all surrounding the Trinity (One God of Three Persons) in a cloud of witnesses. I even think I see Adam and Eve, on the right, dressed in fig leaves.

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[Peering up, we notice the doves descending, a sign of the Holy Spirit’s descent upon Christ at His Baptism, and at our baptism.]

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[The fresco here, right above and behind a very Chinese tabernacle, illustrates the Last Supper. Can you tell Jesus and His Apostles are using chopsticks?]

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[Then of course, we tun around and see what’s behind us: a mural of God in Creation-mode, among other stories and saints.]

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You can see the Seven Days of Creation account here, one “day” represented in each circle. The 8th and 9th Stations of the Cross are also visible: Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem (left) and Jesus falls the third time (right). Along the bottom, we see various saints.

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[A close up of the mural’s left. Notice the Genesis story in the circles.]

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[And here’s a close up of the mural’s right. See the dinosaurs? See Adam and Eve?]

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[And before you leave, make sure to stop by the shrine of our Lady: Mary the Mother of God. Baby Jesus is in there, too!]

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Oh Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.

Good News about Alma!

Posted by HolySmack on January 25, 2014

Dear Readers!

A few months back, at the debut of the new Samurai Saint Michael the Archangel prayer cards, Daniel Mitsui (the artist) had a little daughter born premature at one pound and seven ounces.

But just last week, “Alma was discharged from the hospital on Friday 17 January, and is home now. “

That’s right! Our prayers have been answered, and thanks be to God. If you can’t tell, I’m smiling inside and out! Please read the good news from the artist himself, and please keep up with your prayers for Alma and her beloveds, and for other parents and children everywhere.

P.s. Mr. Mitsui has a great behind-the-scenes look at the work and labor that went into his Battle in Heaven piece.

Mr. Daniel Mitsui’s depiction of Revelation 12 in the Traditional Japanese style.

Hand in the Sand

Posted by HolySmack on January 23, 2014

[Yesterday, January 22nd was the 41st annual March for Life protesting against the legalized massacre of American children, motherhood, fatherhood, sisterhood and brotherhood. In honor and memory of the dead, may I share… Hand in the Sand:]

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I thought I found a long lost sister, but it was only her hand. When I crouched down to touch her fingers, they were cold and wet and looked too red – like a steamed lobster.

My friend and I were at the river to skip stones. He said he knew how, but we quit after our arms got tired from trying. We started walking down along the sandy river bank, getting closer to the bridge, searching for more perfect stones while letting our throwing arms rest. That was when I found her hand.

Hand in the Sand At first I thought it was some kind of seaweed, or coral. I told my friend but he said people don’t even fish in the river, how could there be seaweed if there’s not even fish? I didn’t know the answer so I ignored him and picked up the red flesh. It fit completely into my left palm. It felt like the strawberry jelly I ate for lunch.

I realized it was a little hand when I saw its small outline mirror my thumb and fingers. My friend realized too and shouted, “Someone lost a hand!”

Not knowing what else to do, I held onto it and looked around the shore. City traffic was above our heads, cars making wind while they hurried over the steel bridge. My friend poked at the hand and pointed to the skinny blue strings inside. They looked like my blue strings, but mine were thicker.

A dead tree stuck its roots out into the river, maybe dead because the bridge hid the sun now. Caught in the tangle of roots was a clump of plastic bags. I wanted to use one to carry the hand home. My friend reached out to snatch a bag but it was filled and tied tight. He grabbed another one that was emptier and dumped the trash out. When he saw hands hit the sand, he dropped the bag and backed away. I couldn’t stop staring.

One time my dad took me to the hospital because my stomach hurt so much. Around my wrist, the nurse put a blue bracelet that had my name, birthday, and numbers I don’t remember anymore. I asked my dad if I could keep it because blue was my favorite color.

I couldn’t stop staring because blue was my favorite color, and there were so many bracelets. I crouched down to look at the bracelets, but they were around little legs. I thought the toes were fingers but now I could see, and I could see names, birthdays, and so many numbers.

The first word my parents ever taught me to write was my surname – Wu. They said it was important, and that anyone else with Wu was long lost family. I was just happy because Wu was easier to write than others.

So Wu was easy for me to recognize on the stained anklet. I found my friend’s name too and told him to come see, but he wouldn’t. He told me to stop touching the babies. I said why would anyone put babies in bags? They’re just hands and legs.

I put down the jelly hand and began to pull the blue anklets off the legs. Now I could finally start wearing mine and not worry about losing it.

After collecting four anklets – all clasped around my arm – I tugged the bag aside to see if there were more legs. I saw a butt and laughed.

“It’s a butt!” I said to my friend. I peeled the thick plastic away and noticed the words on the bag. I asked my friend if he knew what medical refuse meant, but when I looked up he was already running away. I looked back down and saw a pink face beside the pink butt. This time I didn’t laugh. I couldn’t even if it was somehow funny.

I covered the face with the bag and looked in the other bags for more anklets. Before I went home that day I had more than sixteen. I washed them in the river because I knew my mom didn’t like dirty things, but when I showed them to her she still said they were dirty and threw them all away – even the Wu one.

I went back to the river the next day to find more but the police told me to go home. They were busy cleaning up and digging around the dead tree.

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1^st Edition – Mar 31, 2010: Inspired by a true tragedy.

Fall 2013 Seminary Classified Notes!

Posted by HolySmack on January 19, 2014

Besides ministry, prayer, fraternal hang-outs, spiritual direction, physical and spiritual exercise, Mass and worship, we seminarians also go to class. Here’s just a little look at what I’ve been jamming into my brain the semester just past:

[above is the 5th page of notes from my Philosophy 225 class: Ancient Greek Philosophy]

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[above is the 2nd page of notes from my Latin 122 class: Introduction to Ecclesiastical Latin]

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[above is the 4th page of my Philosophy 350 class: The Philosophy of Nature]

LML: Secrets of Homecoming (CH:03)

Posted by HolySmack on January 18, 2014

[WARNING: what follows is an interview that reveals the details and depths of Little Miss Lucifer: The Legend of the Exorcess. SPOILER ALERT.]

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03Homecoming

—You: Obviously, the title here again summarizes what’s happening in this chapter, right? I mean, the sister comes home, running and running home. I like how you describe smells, views, sounds and even what she feels. Very visceral.

—Evan: It actually came a bit from personal experience. I remember being on my feet all day, heels aching, toes all stiff, and then stepping into soft cool earth. It was amazing how good it felt, especially since it was summer and everything was so superheated. It was like a massage just standing in the soil… similar to digging your foot deep into a beach volleyball court, deep where the sand is cool.

—You: Next time I’m at the beach, I’ll have to try that. But of course, there’s plenty of beaches where you live right? Great Lakes State?

—Evan: Definitely, lot’s of water.

—You: Speaking of water, I was a bit unsure of the third paragraph in the chapter. I mean, I think I know, but it’s so very subtle… Her heart bounces between her juggling lungs – forces blood throughout their bodies. It ripples her womb’s waters. She slides her hand under her belly – cradles with one hand and braces against the wall with the other.

I’m thinking here she’s very pregnant.

Yet again, she just ran all that way home from wherever she was before, some sort of laboratory or hospital. And the setting she’s in now, rice paddies and dirt roads, tells me she’s nowhere near the city.

—Evan: If you can’t tell, I have a smile on my face. Haha, so then what’s your uncertainty? It sounds to me you’re understanding just fine! I mean, a heart that pumps blood to two bodies? A womb filled with water? A hand cradling a belly? The other hand gripping the wall?

And if you think it’s nothing short of miraculous that she could run all that way home… well don’t forget too soon what the previous chapter was…

—You: Right! Divine Intervention. I guess that sort of explains things and also leaves it a mystery. But tell me about these pieces of familiar faces at the bottom of the page. I see later that the woman is holding ceramic skeletons. Are these statues of saints?

—Evan: Is that a question? Because it sure sounds like an answer to me.

—You: Psssh! But is it the right answer?

—Evan: I hope so! That’s what I was aiming to describe, after all.

[Rioters Destroy Their Own City in 2011 Occupy Wall Street Protests]

—You: And these are smashed, hence the litter, the shards, the pieces and the nettlefield. Great metaphor by the way: nettles are so annoying and painful to step on!

—Evan: Not to mention I just realized that “nettle” sounds awfully like “needle” too… wow.

—You: And speaking of similarities, I found an ambiguous sentence, and I really like it: “She stoops to touch the Virgin Mother’s cheek, brings it to her left cheek.” I mean, does the sister bring the broken half of the statue’s face to the other half? Or does she bring the broken half to her own face? Like how people touch cheeks when they say hello in some cultures?

—Evan: Actually, I prefer to leave that ambiguous. But I’d say both understandings show how beautiful some ambiguities can be.

—You: Tell me about the statues though. I see three: the Virgin Mary, Her Most Chaste Spouse, and a broken boy. Who are they, and what are the statues for?

—Evan: I’m glad you asked. It’s like when people use a phone, especially when talking with a loved one. People smile at their phones, whisper at their phones, sing into their phones, and say “I love you” to their phones – but are they showing affection for their phone? Or are they using the phone as a way to connect to the beloved at the other end of the line?

The phone is just a medium, a conduit, a fancy pair of cups tied together with string. Now that we have smartphones and video chat, the analogy gets even better: we’re human persons. Humans have ears and eyes, skin, nose and tongue – we can sense: hear, see, touch, smell and taste. And we need to. As Christians, we believe God made us and that He knows what He’s doing, that He made the physical body a good thing, and that humans need their body to be human!

So when we pray, we not only use our mind, voice and hearing, we want to use our sight and touch. We want to have beautiful eyes to gaze into, patient ears to whisper to, and open hands to hold. A statue serves that purpose. Of course, we would much rather have the person physically there with us, but it’s not always possible. Think of the times a mother remembers and thinks of her child when she folds their clothes, or when a father thinks of his child when he looks at an old photograph – that’s exactly what Catholic statues, icons and relics help us do. We don’t worship or love the object, but we use the object to remind us, to connect us with the beloved. The objects help engage more of us, not just engage our mind but also involve our bodies. As fallen humans, we need all the help we can get when we pray.

In fact, we want so much help that we pray to the saints. We know we can go straight to Jesus in prayer, but some of us don’t exactly have the confidence to do so, and some of us need to start off with an introduction. We see this sometimes when a father is upset with a son or daughter. What does the child do? He goes to his mother and asks for help, asks what he should say to Father, when and how to approach him. This basically explains why some Christians ask the saints for intercession.

Because we also believe the saints are those of us who have risen to Heaven, and they are closer (spiritually closer, and in the Virgin Mary’s case – also physically closer!) to God than we are here on earth. In Heaven, we also become more human than we are here on earth. Here, we have defects and deformities: sin, death and evil. In Heaven, we are what God made us to be: fully pure and alive, immortal and royalty. There’s a crown waiting for each of us. Thing is… do we want it enough?

—You: Wow, that makes sense… it reminds me of the phrase “smells and bells” when people think of the Catholic Mass. The priest uses incense and there are bells being rung at important moments. So, even our sense of smell is brought into use in prayer!

—Evan: And our sense of taste! When we receive Holy Communion, the flavor of bread and wine engage us. That reminds me of a time when I received the Eucharist and had a sort of mini-mystical experience. I won’t go into it now… probably save it for the later chapters.

—You: Hmmm! Interesting. I haven’t seen things that way before. I like how it’s not all intellectual, but also sensuous.

—Evan: That’s why ugly or plain churches are such turn-offs. Think about it: if God is Beauty itself, and His Church is the Mystical Body of Christ, then shouldn’t the building that we gather in be decent? If not dazzling? There’s another reason for the beauty, but I’ll also leave that for a more relevant time. Something to think about for now.

—You: Yes, and for now I’d like to know what/who “Her Most Chaste Spouse” is referring to…

—Evan: Ah… that’s one of the titles (like a nickname) for Saint Joseph: also known as San Jose in Spanish! That’s right… the city in California is named after him. We call him Mary’s Most Chaste Spouse because he loved his wife (Mary) with a superhuman and chaste love, a love that was lustless and self-sacrificing. I understood this nickname of his even better when I heard one of his other titles: St. Joseph, the Terror of Demons. Yep… he terrorizes demons. They loathe him, avoid him, and fear his holiness. Because he refused to lust after Mary, the devil couldn’t bait him. Most of us, men especially, fall into lust because we don’t have the strength or know what true love is. True love is always chaste: honest, sincere, unselfish and faithful. Think about this… Mary is the most beautiful of all of God’s creations (If you were God, wouldn’t you make your mom perfect?), and since Joseph was her husband, it must’ve been quite tempting for him to use her for his selfish gratification. But… her beauty was so out of this world, that it inspired him to love her with a love that is also out of this world.

The Holy Family
[Click the icon to visit the artist’s page!]

And the love that is out of this world is Divine Love: God’s love… holy, pure, generous, faithful, fruitful, free, and total. In Greek, this love is called Agape: the love that would sacrifice itself for the beloved’s well-being.

—You: I never ever knew that! Wow… St. Joseph. And of course then, in this chapter, the broken boy that his arms are holding is the baby Jesus, right? I like that image, almost like a forewarning of suffering… like the child will suffer…

—Evan: I like how you out that! The Child Will Suffer. It’ll make a nice title for a future work!

—You: Haha, you’re free to use it as you please. But last question now: is that a Chinese flag hung up over the altar? Like, “a red flag of yellow stars”?

—Evan: I’m pretty sure the Communist-Chinese flag is the only red flag with yellow stars, right? Haha. I know the Communist-Vietnamese one is also red, but with only one yellow star. But yes, you’re right about the flag in this scene. It’s important to also remember that it’s communist.

—You: I see the antagonist in the story is being built up. This is a story of political struggle, too then?

—Evan: I’d say struggle isn’t strong enough of a word in this case.

The Forbidden Christian

Posted by HolySmack on January 10, 2014

Last week we saw Yuna Kim’s Catholic faith fearless on the world stage.

This week, a research organization has once again named North Korea as “the worst country in the world for Christians.”

If you didn’t know the drama: North Korea and South Korea (where Miss Kim calls home) share the same border. They are one country divided by bombs and barbed wire. They are now neighbors, each with soldiers staring down the other side, fingers on their triggers — just waiting. It’s been this way since the end of the Korean conflict in the 1950s. And the South’s capital — Seoul — is only 120 miles from the North’s: Pyongyang. That’s right, those two cities are closer together than Detroit is to Chicago.

Many of us know that North Korea is probably the worst country in the world for anyone, but the paradox here is jarring. Let me help you see it: Christians are forbidden on the north side, and on the south side are Christians free and flourishing. North: Christians are hunted and sent to prison camps. South: Christians are winning Olympic gold medals. And South Korea is home to probably the fastest growing Catholic community in the world.

Zooming out, here’s the big picture:

The map details the 50 nations openly hostile to faithful Christians (I say faithful because a Christian in-name-only is no Christian at all, and I say openly hostile because there are plenty of regimes and nations that persecute us indirectly and in secret.). From my own ethnic background, I see Vietnam at #18, and China at #37. You can click on the map to download the full report, or here to see country by country profiles of persecution.

So please, remember that “often completely unaddressed in the West is the fact that Christians are the largest persecuted minority in the world.” We — faithful Christians — always have been the most persecuted, and always will be. Why? And why so many?

Why? Because Jesus is offensive. He tells us we must become perfect. He tells us we must sacrifice. He tells us we must not lust. He tells us we must carry a cross just like He did. In a world that says individualism and license-to-do-anything-without-consequence is supreme, He tells us we must be less us and more Him. And He tells us that this world is not our home, that we are made for better, and the world is insulted by that. The world does not want us to be better than it. It wants us to worship it, to die with it, sleep with it and rot with it.

And why so many? Because committed Christians are among the most convinced of their Faith. Nobody dies for what they know is a lie, or for a hobby, or a social club, or a free time fellowship. But if what they believe is True… and if they are convinced, convinced absolutely by reason and faith that Jesus rose from the dead, if so! then there is no force in the universe that can sway them to admit that the Truth is a hoax. They would die and disown the world rather than lie and disown Christ.

And those Christians among us who refuse the world?

What else should we expect from the world that even dared to butcher God Himself?

So the persecution will continue, and probably worsen. And that’s when the courageous and faithful Christians rise. And some have already rose. They live and died in those hostile and forbidden nations. They are more renown in Heaven than we are. They are the saints and martyrs.

May those saints pray for us Christians who are too busy being comfortable to seek greatness.

Made for Greatness

P.S. It is in honor of these persecuted Christians that I named my publishing entity Banned Books Press. And the most banned book of all: the Holy Bible.

LML: Secrets of Intervention (CH:02)

Posted by HolySmack on January 5, 2014

[WARNING: what follows is an interview that reveals the details and depths of Little Miss Lucifer: The Legend of the Exorcess. SPOILER ALERT.]

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02 Intervention

—You: The second chapter’s title Intervention reminds me of the phrase “divine intervention”. I’m guessing that’s what you were going for?

—Evan: You guess well – that’s exactly what I was going for. It’s a pretty common phrase, even found in pop songs like Mraz’s “I’m Yours”. It usually means that God (Divinity) cuts into the world to directly make a miracle happen. The Lord usually let’s be the laws of nature (that He designed), but sometimes He will make an exception, and not to go against nature or logic, but to go above nature: to cause supernatural phenomena.

—You: And in Intervention, we see a sort of Great Escape.

—Evan: You know what, I wasn’t even thinking this when I was writing the scene, but it reminds me of when Peter was imprisoned. An angel sears into the jail cell, wakes Peter and breaks him out! My goodness… this scene matches really well with Luke’s account in Acts of the Apostles, Chapter 12. There’s even the light shining on Peter, as there is a light shining on the protagonist in Intervention!

—You: I’m going to read Acts 12 and see for myself! But I sort of recognize the beginning of your second chapter: “In the sixth month since…” It just doesn’t sound like something anyone would write these days – the style.

—Evan: That’s because I’m alluding to the Gospel of Luke’s first chapter, verses 26 and 36 (I actually just realized it matches with 36 too!). In verse 26, the Angel Gabriel visits Mary in the sixth month, and in verse 36, the Angel Gabriel shares with Mary the news of her cousin Elizabeth’s sixth month of pregnancy. So… there’s some recurring theme here…

—You: Haha, not to mention that the Angel is an agent of divine intervention. Very Biblical! I noticed terms like fishermen and mission too.

—Evan: Yep, I decided to stick to metaphor. There’s just so much weight and richness when using metaphor and analogy.

—You: I noticed. You supersaturate the pages with metaphor. In fact, I don’t think you even used the word cry or tears at all in this chapter. I’ll have to reread it to be sure, but all I remember are words like heavy rain, streams, rapids, waterfall, ocean, whirlpools, monsoons, typhoons, tsunamis and weeping mommies.

—Evan: And aren’t those words a bit more expressive? I’ve decided that in my writing, I want to describe and say things in ways no one has said them before, or at least in ways rarely used. In this story, I also tried to use an organic approach: I wanted to use living and natural things in my descriptions. I avoided techie and artificial objects. It makes the tone more… gritty and alive. Of course, it matches the type of story too.

—You: One thing I’d like clarified is the “sisters” we’ve been reading about. Are they all related, like biological siblings here? Or are we talking about Catholic nuns?

—Evan: I’ll have to let you think that out. But I will share this: All nuns are “sisters”, but not all “sisters” are nuns; and when I say nun and sister, I mean Catholic Christian women who have taken vows to live lives of poverty, chastity and obedience. Such women are called consecrated/religious sisters, and such men are called consecrated/religious brothers.

A nun is different from a religious sister in the same way a monk is different from a religious brother. Nuns and monks are cloistered, meaning they lock the world out so that they can focus on a simple life and pray the rest of their lives, praying for you and me, praying for those of us who have no one to pray for them. In fact, that’s kind of what Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI decided to do when he retired from the papacy. He went into a monastery to pray (for the rest of his life) for Pope Francis, for the Church, and for the world. He didn’t retire to relax!

Religious sisters and brothers do not go into cloister. Instead, they work in the world, minister to the ill, the weak and the abandoned. They become teachers, nurses, engineers, and even multimedia specialists. Anything to help evangelize. There was even a religious group of sisters who went on Oprah!

—You: Ohhh, I see. So Mother Teresa is a religious sister, not a nun. And that’s pretty cool that Benedict XVI is doing that. I didn’t know!

—Evan: So these sisters you’ve been meeting in LML are not technically nuns, nor biologically siblings.

—You: They’re religious sisters, and spiritual siblings? I get it now, I get it. And those prayer knots, I think you called it a knotted thread? Is that what I think it is?

—Evan: If you’re thinking it’s a Rosary, then you’d be right. You can actually make one yourself! It’s not too difficult, and with enough time and practice, even middle schoolers can make them (I helped a bunch of them learn during a Lent retreat last year).

—You: Aren’t Rosaries made of beads though?

Cord Rosary —Evan: They can be beaded, but the simplest ones are just a series of barrel knots. I actually like these cord Rosaries best. They’re durable, resilient, light and quiet. I’ve seen people use big cords to make knots as big as fists, or they can be the usual pea size. All you need is enough thread/twine/string/etc. Anyway, I’ll share more details about it in the coming chapters. It makes a reappearance. And hang onto the setting of this scene, it’ll come in handy further along the story… when flashbacks happen *hint hint*.

—You: Hmm… all right, until next time!

—Evan: Happy Feast of the Epiphany And enjoy your snowday!

Yuna Kim Taught Me How to Pray

Posted by HolySmack on January 3, 2014

After I saw her, I was never afraid again.

She is Yuna Kim, South Korea’s most popular celebrity/athlete/pop icon/etc. I knew nothing about her until she demolished her competition at the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver, Canada.

And she demolished with grace! After earning her gold medal (and South Korea’s first gold in skating ever), the sports channel showed a montage of athletes in various states of competition and ecstatic victory. But for Miss Kim, I saw something that made me scour the internet for an explanation. I was confused when I saw:

As she skated onto the ice for her final program, she made the Sign of the Cross, clasped her hands together, bowed her head, and prayed.

There she was: on Olympic ice, before dozens of HD cameras broadcasting to billions of TVs, LCDs, smartphones, before millions of her adoring fans (especially the boys — duh) at home and around the world. And there she was, praying in public.

She was so humble about it, that you’d almost miss it! Unless she actually prays this way before her every skate. WHICH SHE DOES.

And it occurred to me, that if Yuna Kim could be that devoted to Christ before the world’s gaze, then what reason do I have for cowering? What reason do I have to be afraid of praying before others? Who was watching me? Do I have dozens of cameras broadcasting my public prayer around the planet? Do I have millions of fans ready to judge my next move? Does anyone care what Evan does?

No.

And even if they do care, I’m not about to let Yuna pray alone.

—

P.S. after investigating the internet, I found out that Miss Kim had decided to be baptized Catholic in 2008 as Stella Yuna Kim, named after the Blessed Virgin Mary – Star of the Sea. In a world like today, deciding to be Catholic takes guts and grace. Seriously.

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P.P.S. My personal favorite Yuna Kim skate (trust me, you gotta see this):