PODCAST: Auspice Maria Ep9: The Existential Vacuum
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Transcript:
Welcome again to the Auspice Maria podcast. I'm Bishop James Ruggieri of the Diocese of Portland in Maine. And whether you're Catholic, curious, or somewhere in between, I want to invite you today into a conversation about something fundamental: how the sacraments, community, and tradition of the Catholic Church can lead us into a deeper relationship with Jesus Christ and into a deeper understanding of ourselves.
Maybe you're listening and you're not particularly religious. Maybe you're spiritual, but not into organized religion. Maybe you're doing just fine in life—not committing any serious sins, not hurting anyone—and you wonder, why would I even need something like Jesus or the Church? Well, this episode is for you.
I'd like to start with a phrase from Viktor Frankl, an Austrian psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, and the author of Man's Search for Meaning. Frankl once wrote that many people today have the means to live, but no meaning to live for. He called this condition the "existential vacuum," a sense of inner emptiness that goes unnoticed beneath the surface of our busy lives.
We have careers, entertainment, relationships, even success. But we wonder, is this all there is? That something is more than psychological—it's spiritual. It's a question that can become an open door.
Before we discuss how the Church can help us grow in our relationship with Jesus, let me define what that relationship entails. It's not about following rules. It's not about being better than other people. It's not about a membership card. It's this: being known by name, being loved unconditionally, and being invited into a life of deeper meaning, deeper joy, and greater freedom.
Jesus doesn't come to take away our humanity. He comes to restore it. He meets us right where we are—but never leaves us there. He calls us to become more truly ourselves.
St. Augustine, who spent years chasing pleasure and prestige before finding Christ, famously said, "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you."
So why even consider a relationship with Jesus? You might be asking that question, and I get it—if life is decent, why open yourself to something so radical and honestly so demanding? Well, here might be a few reasons to consider:
Meaning – Even in good times, many people sense a kind of aimlessness. Jesus doesn't give you comfort; He gives you mission.
Mercy – We all carry regret. Jesus doesn't cancel us. He forgives us. He frees us.
Love – We all crave a love that doesn't depend on our performance. In Jesus, you are fully seen and fully loved.
Hope – No one escapes suffering or death. Jesus doesn't offer shallow optimism. He offers resurrection.
So how do we access that relationship? That's where the Church comes in.
The sacraments—these beautiful personal encounters with Christ. The Catholic Church teaches that the sacraments are not just symbols. They're real encounters with Jesus in our world today.
For example, Baptism is not a naming ceremony. It's a rebirth into divine life. You are claimed by God. You are adopted and made new.
The Eucharist—it is not a metaphor. It's actually Jesus giving Himself entirely to you: Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.
Confession—the Sacrament of Reconciliation—isn't about guilt trips. It's really about liberation. It's about being able to say out loud, "This is who I am, and I need help," and hearing back, "You are forgiven. You can begin again."
These sacraments are not magic. They are personal. They invite you to participate in a life beyond your own strength. They reconnect you to grace.
We live in a culture of individualism, yet we ache for connection. We long to be part of something that matters. The Church at its best is not a bureaucracy or an institution. It's a community. It's a place where you can ask questions, grow in faith, fall, get back up, and walk with others.
You don't need to have everything figured out to belong. Sometimes people need to belong before they believe. And honestly, Church community isn't perfect. But then again, neither are our families. And that's kind of the point. We grow together.
But what about those who feel excluded by the Church—especially those who, for example, identify with or support contemporary LGBTQ+ ideologies and experiences?
That's a hard and honest question, and it deserves a clear and compassionate answer.
The Church teaches that every person is made in the image of God and must be treated with respect, compassion, and sensitivity. But disagreement is not the same as discrimination.
The Church upholds a vision of sexuality ordered to love, life, and self-gift. This is rooted in the deeper theological truth that our bodies matter. We are not souls trapped in flesh. We are body and soul together, created male and female in the image of God. The complementarity of man and woman is not arbitrary. It reflects the capacity for a fruitful communion.
The union of man and woman in marriage is uniquely capable of generating life and imaging the love between Christ and His Church.
The Church's call to chastity is not a rejection of desire, but a path toward integration and freedom. Everyone—single, married, same-sex attracted, or otherwise—is called to live sexuality as a gift to be ordered toward truth and love.
Holiness doesn't mean suppressing our identity. It means letting it be transformed in Christ.
To be welcomed in the Church means more than being tolerated. It means being seen, known, and loved as someone created by God for communion with Him. But love doesn't stop at welcome. Love calls us to conversion—a daily, ongoing reorientation of our lives to God. Real love never leaves us where we are. It always calls us deeper.
And the Church, even when she struggles to live this out perfectly, holds that every person is called to holiness—not according to their own definition, but according to the image of Christ.
So yes, people who experience same-sex attraction or who hold different views on gender are genuinely welcomed. And they, like all of us, are called to surrender our desires, wounds, and hopes to the Lord who invites us into communion with Him and offers us the means to continue to grow and become our best selves—our best integrated selves.
This means effort. This means sacrifice and self-denial. However, this also means true peace.
To belong to the Church is not to have your life perfectly in line. It's to say, "I want to follow Christ. I want to walk this path. Even if I stumble, I want to be a part of something real."
The Church isn't a prize for the righteous. It's a hospital for sinners. It's a place where you are never alone in your questions, your struggles, your journey.
Catholic tradition is not about clinging to the past. It's about living in a stream of wisdom that connects us to something bigger than ourselves.
Tradition gives us the Scriptures—handed down, prayed with, and interpreted in the light of Christ. Tradition gives us the lives of the saints—real men and women who walked this path before us. And tradition gives us teachings that protect human dignity, especially when culture forgets it.
In a world obsessed with novelty and overwhelmed by choice, tradition reminds us that some truths endure. It doesn't limit freedom; it anchors it.
So let's return to where we began—the ache for meaning. Even those who are successful and comfortable often sense a deeper question rising in their hearts: What am I really living for?
Again, Viktor Frankl called this the existential vacuum. When we lose sight of meaning, we lose the will to live with hope and purpose. And beneath that, there is a fear that most of us try not to talk about—the fear of death.
Death is the great equalizer. No matter how successful we are, we all live with a kind of death anxiety. Some numb it with distractions; others try to deny it. But it's there.
The Church doesn't deny death. It looks at it in the face and proclaims that Christ has conquered it. In the sacraments—especially the Eucharist and the Anointing of the Sick—we meet a Lord who has passed through death and opened the way to eternal life.
Faith in Christ doesn't remove our questions, but it gives us a horizon beyond this life. It turns despair into hope. This changes everything.
We can face the uncertainties of life, the wounds of the past, and the fear of the future—not with naivety, but with courage grounded in Christ.
What if I want Jesus but not the Church? Well, that's a very common sentiment, especially today. Maybe you've been hurt by the Church. Maybe you distrust institutions. Maybe you just want Jesus without all the extras.
But here's the thing: Jesus didn't just leave us a message. He left us a Church. He gave us sacraments. He called disciples. He built a community.
Is the Church flawed? Yes. It's made of sinners. But it's also where Jesus still acts, still speaks, still gives Himself.
To want Jesus but reject the Church is, in a way, to reject the means He Himself chose to stay with us.
The early Church grew not through social power, but by love and witness. Christians cared for the sick during plagues, rescued abandoned infants, and forgave their persecutors.
This is the Church we belong to—not perfect, but persevering. Not triumphant, but faithful.
Final thoughts. You were made for more than distraction, more than survival, more than success. You were made for love, for communion, for purpose. And Jesus is the One who can lead you there.
Through the sacraments, He heals and strengthens. Through community, He walks with us. Through tradition, He roots and grounds us.
And through it all, Jesus invites you—He invites me—not just to believe in Him, but to know Him.
If you've been feeling a stirring, a longing, a restlessness—that may not be random. That might be the beginning of a response.
Jesus doesn't force Himself. But He invites. And if you're listening, maybe today is the day to respond.
Thank you for joining me on this episode of Auspice Maria. If something stirred in your heart today, please don't ignore it. Reach out. Ask questions. Maybe visit a church. Maybe talk to a Catholic who lives the Catholic life. Ask for a prayer. Or perhaps just sit quietly and whisper: "Jesus, if you are real, I want to know you."
Well, until next time, may you discover in your life the beauty of knowing Christ more deeply. Thank you for joining me again on this podcast, Auspice Maria, and I close offering this prayer to the Blessed Mother, seeking her intercession, her guidance, her protection:
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen
