September 2, 2025 // Perspective

Calling Upon Divine Inspiration

Ken Hallenius

When my editor let me know my deadline was approaching to submit this column, I was struck with a bit of fear. I had no idea what to write about, and as the hours counted down, my anxiety began to grow. Even now, as I sit in front of this blank virtual page on my computer screen, I don’t have a clue. And so, I have decided to invoke divine inspiration even as I type. Come, Holy Spirit!

Writers throughout history have called for help from God (or, in the case of pre-Christian writers, “the gods”), either because they didn’t know what to write or because they wanted divine assistance to produce a beautiful piece of work. Perhaps even a little of both motivations were at play in their prayer.

Seven centuries before Christ, the legendary poet Homer, author of the epics “The Iliad” and “The Odyssey” (the oldest works of extant Western literature), began his tale of the Trojan War by inviting the goddess of poetry to use him as a voice box, “Sing, O Muse, of the rage of Achilles, which to the Greeks did bring unnumbered griefs.”

The great St. Augustine, whose feast we celebrated recently (August 28), began his own epic autobiographical “Confessions” with a prayer of praise and acknowledgment to God, in the process writing one of his best-known phrases: “You have made us for yourself, O God, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” In fact, the entirety of Augustine’s “Confessions” is one long prayer, ending (spoiler alert!) with the words, “Amen. Thanks be to God.”

St. Augustine has been in mind particularly among Catholics throughout the past few months thanks to one of his spiritual sons, Pope Leo XIV, who was an Augustinian friar prior to his election as pope. As you may know, the Chicago-born Father Robert Prevost, OSA, served as a pastor, missionary in Peru, seminary professor, and as the prior general in charge of the worldwide Order of St. Augustine before being appointed as bishop of Chiclayo, Peru. He then was called by Pope Francis to Rome to head the Dicastery for Bishops, which advises the Holy Father about issues of concern faced by his brother bishops in their dioceses spread throughout the world.

A little more than 100 days have passed since Pope Leo was elected, and I personally continue to be amazed and delighted every time a clip of one of his homilies or messages comes across my social media feed. Something I never expected to see in my own lifetime was an American-born pope speaking in a Midwestern dialect! He seems so familiar! It’s crazy to think that at some point in his life the pope has likely unconsciously hummed the tune, “Save Big Money at Menards!” What’s next? A Jubilee holy door at every Portillo’s restaurant? Paying for souvenirs at the Vatican gift shop with Kohl’s Cash? Putting ketchup on a hot dog being an excommunicable offense?

All joking aside, we have been incredibly blessed by amazing popes, especially those of my own lifetime. I was born in the latter years of Pope St. Paul VI’s pontificate and grew up with Pope St. John Paul the Great. I attended the 1995 World Youth Day in Denver as a college seminarian, gathering with hundreds of thousands of my fellow young Catholics to pray with and be inspired by the Holy Father. I later visited Rome at Christmas in 1998 and had the privilege of attending Mass with the future saint in his private chapel (and even exchanged a zucchetto with him afterwards – that’s the Italian name of the skullcap that bishops, cardinals, and popes wear).

Pope Benedict XIV was a gentle shepherd whose writing and teaching inspired me to learn more about the great fathers, saints, and Doctors of the Church. In his weekly general audiences during his pontificate, he offered accessible, bite-sized biographies of some of the greatest theologians and saints throughout history, highlighting their essential teachings and spiritual legacies. Several years ago, I compiled a series of links to these mini biographies by Pope Benedict, available for perusal at fathersanddoctors.com.

I had the pleasure of meeting Pope Francis during a conference at the Vatican in 2019, “The Common Good in the Digital Age,” and the Holy Father’s speech at our meeting called attention to some of the ethical challenges surrounding widespread adoption of artificial intelligence. At that time, ChatGPT and similar tools were not yet on everyone’s laptop and phone, but the pope’s advisers saw the writing on the wall, and Pope Francis highlighted some of their concerns and encouraged ongoing dialogue. Many of the issues that Pope Francis briefly touched upon in that talk are still being discussed and have received renewed attention from Pope Leo XIV, who has spoken of the value that Catholic social doctrine can offer as a response to developments in AI, particularly in the face of challenges to human dignity, justice, and labor.

So, there you have it. I called upon the Holy Spirit for divine assistance in writing this, and now I have reached the end. Who could’ve anticipated just 800 words ago that I’d write about the Menard’s jingle, or the joy of exchanging white hats with a future saint, or touch upon the ethical challenges of AI? At the very least, I can say (like St. Paul in his Second Letter to the Thessalonians) that I wrote this entirely in my own hand, with nary a bit of help from ChatGPT. And to that I say, in the immortal words of St. Augustine, “Amen. Thanks be to God.”

Ken Hallenius and his wife, Julie, are parishioners at St. Joseph Catholic Church in South Bend.