We heard the great bells of St. Peter’s Basilica ring out two different times, though that was never our plan.

The death bell tolls only on the passing of the Holy Father and again at the conclusion of his funeral. It marks a definite end. St. Peter’s bells then resound powerfully to signal to the faithful, the city, and world that a new pope has been elected. They indicate a new beginning.

The Napa Institute had been planning our Italian Jubilee pilgrimage for over a year. Even before Blessed Carlo Acutis’ canonization date was announced, we had arranged to visit Assisi—home to Saints Francis, Clare, and Carlo.

Carlo’s relics had blessed the faithful at our Summer Conference in July. He joined us again at our Eucharistic Procession in New York City last October. We owed him a return visit as Pilgrims of Hope. Then we discovered he was going to be canonized on a date that would coincide with our journey south from Assisi to Rome! It seemed as if he was sending us a personal invitation to come and celebrate his sanctity. 

The time in Rome was to be packed. We would spend our days walking along the same paths trod by the giants of our faith at the heart of the Church. Steeped in history, theology, and tradition, we sought to swim in the great river of grace opened for us during a jubilee year. After, on to southern Italy where we could finish our pilgrimage at a slower pace, while exploring unbelievable holy sites (including the tombs of two Apostles).

Then Pope Francis died.

The Holy Father passed just the day before my wife and I were supposed to fly to Rome to lead Napa’s trip. 

We had our plans, but God has His Providence.

Instead of a canonization, we attended the Pope’s funeral. It was one of the most moving things I have ever been a part of – to be one of the few and unworthy representatives within the entire Body of Christ, present on that day to commend the Vicar of Jesus Christ back to the Lord. The death bell tolled for Francis and we prayed.

God’s generosity is truly unmatched. A fact most evident with those who give their unreserved “yes” to His Will. Thousands of young pilgrims had already traveled to Italy to celebrate Carlo Acutis’ canonization on Sunday. And so, most of them were already in town for the unexpected funeral on Saturday. 

The earnest prayers of the young move the heart of Jesus. What a gift for Pope Francis, who willingly took on himself the burden of the papacy, to have so many there on pilgrimage to pray for the repose of his soul. How many holy door plenary indulgences were surely offered for him there! And what a gift to the conclave that those same young people—as well as those of us slightly more advanced in age who gathered—could experience the bracing reality of Rome with no pope. We were impelled by the Holy Spirit to turn our attention to the cardinals’ discernment for a new Holy Father. And again, we prayed. 

Throughout our time in Rome, we still experienced so much of what we had hoped for. We ate well—it is Italy, after all—but more importantly, we waded into the waters of two thousand years of pilgrimage. The Christian is meant in some real way to journey on his knees before the power of Almighty God and the triumph of the Cross of Christ. We did so both figuratively and literally.

We arrived early at St. Mary Major to pray at the new tomb of Pope Francis. Many of us received the Sacrament of Reconciliation there, in the stillness of the morning. We knelt again at Mass and before the tomb of St. Pius V on his feast day—a quiet contrast to the funeral’s crowds.

We entered basilicas through holy doors, walked ancient catacombs that whisper of the persecuted Church, and studied the saints and sinners who shaped the city (thank you, Dr. Timothy O’Donnell!). On First Friday, we ascended the Scala Sancta—the steps Jesus walked bloodied and beaten to face Pilate—literally on our knees, as tradition demands.

Grace accompanied us into southern Italy. We prayed at the tombs of St. Matthew and St. Andrew, gathering “manna” secreted from the bones of the latter and being blessed by the arm of the former. At Pompeii, we honored Blessed Bartolo Longo, whose powerful prayer to Our Lady of Pompeii and devotion to Our Lady of the Rosary stirred our hearts. Fittingly, the new pope would be elected on her feast day—and mention her in his first words—though we had no idea at the time.

But God had more in store. Danielle and I had always planned to leave the group in southern Italy a day early. Our son Leo was playing Curly in Oklahoma!, an important moment we didn’t want to miss. We trained back to Rome and stayed with friends. 

Somehow, I felt certain that we would be in the square when the white smoke rose and the new pope was introduced. May 8 was our only chance. Conventional wisdom said the conclave would be long. Still, at 3 p.m., we prayed with our friends—offering the solemn petition to Our Lady of Pompeii and Divine Mercy prayers for selection of a new pontiff. Then we made our way toward St. Peter’s Square. We grabbed some medals in anticipation of a first blessing. . . just in case.

To our amazement, as we walked, the news spread: the smoke was early and it was white!

We heard bells from St. Peter’s a 2nd time that trip. Now they rang out fully in splendor, beckoning us. There was a new pope. 

We ran with crowds down the Via della Conciliazione into the square, hearts pounding in anticipation. There’s nothing quite like that shared euphoria, waiting to see the face of the new pope on the loggia. Maybe the running of the bulls compares, but I doubt it.

Then came the announcement and the name: Leo!—a signal grace about our choice to leave early to honor our son, who is named for our great love of both Leo the Great and Leo XIII. What a day.

If you can believe it, this trip was only the 2nd most amazing jubilee pilgrimage for Danielle and me. The one 25 years ago is hard to top. (See photo below from Jubilee 2000)

We have our plans, but God has His Providence, indeed. One thing the Jubilee Year reminds us is that if we surrender to His Will, we will never be disappointed by the adventure that unfolds.

This October 3–5, my wife Steph and I will be in Cannes for the Summit for Entrepreneurs & Leaders, hosted by the French Riviera Institute. It’s an inspiring three-day gathering of Christian leaders from across Europe and around the world—entrepreneurs, investors, creatives, and apostolate leaders—who are deeply committed to advancing the Gospel in every corner of culture.

This mission is closely aligned with the Napa Institute, and over the years have been encouraging its growth. John Meyer, the former Executive Director, and I helped organize three Napa Institute conferences in Europe—held in Regensburg, Vienna, and Rome—to connect with Catholic influencers on the continent. Through those efforts, it became clear that a Napa Institute Europe needed to be formed and led by Europeans themselves.

In July 2018, we invited Bishop Dominique Rey from the South of France, along with his collaborators, to attend the Napa Institute Summer Conference. Their enthusiasm was evident, and they began programming shortly after. Although the pandemic paused their progress, they resumed efforts post-COVID and sent a 20-person delegation to the 2024 Summer Conference, including Bishop Rey and French Riviera Institute President Thibault de Saint Vincent.

This falls event will be held in one of the most iconic cities on the Mediterranean, the summit brings together a global network of men and women committed to living their faith boldly in the public square. The French Riviera Institute has created a space where conversations are deep, community is intentional, and the focus is on building a future rooted in Christian witness, innovation, and leadership.

Steph and I are especially looking forward to seeing the work of the Church in Europe—meeting the people on the ground who are renewing culture through business, education, media, and evangelization. So much of our time is spent focused on the needs and opportunities in the United States, but the Church is global, and this summit gives us the chance to step into what God is doing in other parts of the world. We want to learn from leaders who are navigating secularism with hope, clarity, and conviction.

For friends of the Napa Institute, this event in Cannes is a natural extension of the mission we share: to form leaders in faith and reason who can engage the modern world with courage and truth. Many of the same values—orthodoxy, excellence, community, and mission—are deeply embedded in the DNA of the French Riviera Institute. We’re excited to meet like-minded Catholics and Christians from across Europe who are building the future of the Church with creativity and zeal.

The summit will include talks, panels, and roundtable discussions with thought leaders and missionaries who are actively shaping the spiritual and cultural landscape of their countries. There will be time for prayer and reflection, but also space to collaborate, exchange ideas, and form partnerships across borders. It’s a reminder that we are not alone in this work—and that there is a growing movement of believers who are ready to invest in the next generation of Catholic leadership worldwide.

We’d love to see other Napa Institute friends join us in Cannes. It’s a chance to strengthen old friendships, forge new ones, and take part in a mission that extends far beyond any single country. There is so much happening in Europe right now that deserves our attention—and our prayerful support.

We’re grateful for this opportunity to be part of something so impactful. We hope you’ll consider joining us for this extraordinary gathering with FRI!

Learn More By Clicking Here

Dear friend of Napa,

Pope Leo XIV’s inaugural Mass was a historic moment in the life of the Church—and I was blessed to be there in person to witness it, together with a quarter of a million people in St. Peter’s Square.

We were all there to welcome the 267th successor of St. Peter. And for me, it was actually a return to Rome in quick succession. From late April to mid-May, Steph, myself, and about 50 of our dearest Napa Institute friends had been in Italy for our long-planned pilgrimage. Little did we know we’d be there for the funeral of Pope Francis—and the election of the first American Pope!

When I first heard that Pope Leo’s inaugural Mass was scheduled for May 18, I asked the Lord in prayer: Send me a sign if you want me to go back. Not long after, I received a providential message from Fr. Henry Stephan, a Dominican priest I met through Phil Muñoz of Notre Dame. Without any prompting, Fr. Stephan told me he had two tickets for the Mass. Ask the Lord, and ye shall receive!

The inaugural Mass was everything the faithful hoped for—and more. It was a true spiritual summit. The two-hour liturgy, including the Angelus, was deeply moving. I brought along rosaries from my recent pilgrimage and had them all blessed during the ceremony.

As the Pope personally prayed the Opening Collect, his voice carried with it the weight and clarity of a shepherd accepting his sacred duty:

“O God, who in your providential design willed that your Church be built upon Blessed Peter, look with favor on me, your servant, whom you have chosen as the successor of Peter. Grant that I may always be for your people a visible source and foundation of unity in faith and charity…”

It was surreal to witness history unfold. Pope Leo XIV stood not as a politician or a celebrity, but as the Vicar of Christ, speaking to God on behalf of the Church and the world. I wasn’t alone in my feeling of awe. I was seated with many Dominican Fathers and Sisters, and after the Mass, we joined a variety of friends for a shared pranzo, or lunch.

Now we look forward to his hopefully long and fruitful papacy. At age 69, Pope Leo XIV may well lead the Church for the next two decades. And he chose his name with purpose. Like Leo XIII, who led the Church through the rise of the Industrial Revolution and pioneered Catholic Social Teaching , Leo XIV envisions a Church engaged with the moral challenges of our day—artificial intelligence, technological upheaval, and global fragmentation.

Already, Pope Leo XIV is emerging as a moral compass for our world—a world plagued by division, war, and moral confusion. We pray that he leads the Church well amid these challenges; that the Holy Spirit guide him; and that our Church and our world grow in faith and hope in the days ahead. 

As a tribute to Pope Leo XIV, we will feature panels and presentations to learn more about Robert Prevost and his rise to the papacy at the summer conference July 23-27, 2025. 

The corner of my eye caught the live YouTube feed of the Sistine Chapel chimney:
white smoke billowing out.

Well, not pure, white smoke, but it seemed like a light grey. Much lighter than the black
smoke I observed from the Piazza on Wednesday evening and Thursday morning. A
nanosecond passed as the neurons fired. Something felt different and it became clear
this was white smoke indeed—much sooner than expected. I turned to a priest friend
with me and said “there is white smoke. Let’s go.”

We sprinted down the cobbled streets of Rome. We were only a 12-minute walk from St.
Peter’s Square, but it seemed much further. I could feel the adrenaline rush. As we ran,
most of the ordinary Roman world still did not seem to know the news and continued
about as normal. Perhaps this is how Saints Peter and John felt as they ran to the
empty tomb. Your brain wanted to process what was happening, but your heart and gut
said “run”.

After the first few blocks my friend said he was not able to get one of his shoes fully on,
so we paused for him to adjust it. It reminded me of President Trump telling his Secret
Service detail to let him get his shoes on after he had been shot. The mundane and
ordinary inconvenience of misaligned footwear impacting your experience of an event of
a much grander caliber. We are still human.

We slowed down a bit as we saw Saint Peter’s Basilica. Weaving and dodging among
the crowds, we did our best to balance Christian politeness with a zealous desire to be
close to the action. I thought to myself “if we can be just outside Saint Peter’s Square, I
will be happy. As long as I can see it with my own eyes, I will be content that I really was
there.”

On and off we went from quick jogs to tiptoed serpentines through open pockets among
the people. We saw the white smoke still puffing from the chimney as we got closer. The
basilica bells rang out. The sound, the resonance, the timelessness of the tolling of bells
made it all the more real. I thought back to Pope Francis’ funeral a short while ago when
I last heard those great bells. Once to mourn the death of the Roman Pontiff and now to
announce a new one.

As we got to the edge of the square, I saw it still was not full, and we could make it in.
This meant going through security checkpoints set up by the Italian Polizia complete
with metal detectors and x-ray machines. Patiently, or perhaps impatiently, we waited
our turn and made it into the square. Quickly moving, we found our vantage point 50
yards or so in front of the Egyptian obelisk which the Pagan Emperor Caligula brought
to the Eternal City and which the Christian Pope Sixtus V moved to its present location.

The crowd was jubilant. Strangers gathered and conversed as if friends. The common
fraternity of the Christian faithful was very much alive. Flags from all around the world
waved. A Ugandan near me and I chatted. He congratulated me on sharing the first
name of Saint Charles Lwanga from his country. All were kind. All were polite. All were
united.

Then the curtains were pulled back, the glass doors opened, the cardinal protodeacon
emerged and announced a great joy to the faithful: “Habemus Papam” or “we have a
pope.” Energy exuded with applause and cheers. An ancient language and an
antiquated public address method used for centuries to announce the election of the
Bishop of Rome still bears resonance in the age of the smart phone and livestream.
My friend said they elected Cardinal Prevost as we listened to the speech. An
American? No. That could not be. The prognosticators said a pope from the United
States was not possible. Then the protodeacon said the new pope’s name is “Leo.” We
lit up. A heroic pope from the nineteenth century was the last to bear the mantle of Leo.
He cared for the poor and he cared for the truth. A good predecessor to emulate.
Then, to the balcony came His Holiness Pope Leo XIV. Our new Holy Father. The Vicar
of Christ, Successor to the Prince of the Apostles, etc., etc.

He smiled. He waved. The crowd responded with joy.

He spoke in Italian. I do not really know the language, but I could pick up some of what
he said. He spoke about peace. He spoke about Christ and his Church. He spoke about
evangelization. He asked us to pray. He spoke like a pope. No—he spoke as the Pope.
Then he gave his blessing. Using a formula reserved for the pope’s Urbi et Orbi address
usually only on Christmas and Easter—and also on the occasion of the election of a
Supreme Pontiff.

“Sancti Apostoli Petrus et Paulus,” he began. Invoking the intercession of those ancient
apostles who evangelized the city of Rome two thousand years ago. We closed our
eyes and bowed in absolute silence as he continued.

Hearing the Holy Father pray was when the gravity of what was happening really set in.
We were in the square with the successor of Saint Peter as countless pilgrims had in
the preceding centuries. The community of the faithful, the Church teaches, is not just a
community of the living, but those who have gone before us. It was clear to me at that
moment in particular that this was certainly the case.

After crossing ourselves we looked up. He paused and waved and smiled. He did not
immediately retreat. He let the moment go on. He let it continue. He let us share in it for
a bit longer. He who has now given his life to the papacy, to the Church, and to Christ,
gave something to us too: an extra minute with him.

It was an experience which I never will forget. Sometimes the most profound things are
those that change the least over time. Tradition, culture, truth, faith. These are what
make us human, and these are what make us Christians.

Cardinal Francis George of Chicago recalled at the 2005 election of Pope Benedict XVI
that as he looked out from the balcony of Saint Peter’s Basilica, “I was gazing toward
the Circus Maximus, toward the Palatine Hill where the Roman emperors once resided
and reigned and looked down upon the persecution of Christians, and I thought, ‘Where
are their successors? Where is the successor of Caesar Augustus? Where is the
successor of Marcus Aurelius? And finally, who cares? But if you want to see the
successor of Peter, he is right next to me, smiling and waving at the crowds.’”

Let us pray for our new Holy Father. Let us pray for his health and his success. Let us
pray that he leads Church as Christ wills it and not as humans want it to be led. Let us
pray he calls us to greatness, that he saves souls, and that we learn from him.

His Story is Our Story Too

Blessed Easter! Many people skip parts of the Triduum and jump from Palm Sunday straight to Easter. But they rob themselves of the richness of what is really their story too. You have probably considered which gospel characters resonate with you. Do we see ourselves in Peter’s weakness? As parents, do we know a pain like Mary’s at the foot of the Cross? What about the fear of the Apostles when God asks difficult things of us? Contemplating these figures has value, but we, too, are in the pages of this epic tale.

Holy Thursday is a celebration for our family. The veil of self-denial is peeled back briefly by a spirit of joy and anticipation. We sit down to dinner before Mass and, borrowing a tradition from dear friends, consider the many connections between the Old Testament and the fulfillment of all things in Jesus Christ. The food we eat is rich in symbolism: hearts of palm for Palm Sunday, olives and the Mount of Olives, bread and wine for the Eucharist and the priestly sacrifices that preceded it, roasted lamb for the Passover meal and the Lamb of God who is Himself the sacrifice, “stripping” of artichokes and Christ being stripped of his garments, artichoke hearts and the pierced heart of Jesus, and so on.

At Holy Thursday Mass we are with Jesus as he creates the priesthood. We recline at table with Him as He institutes the Holy Eucharist. We can stay awake in adoration as Christ sweats blood for us in the garden. We struggle to not abandon Him after He is betrayed by a kiss. On Good Friday, as He remains silent before Pilate, we still hope He will put the Roman prefect in his place. We stand in stunned silence when we “behold the man” after his scourging. And still we cry out to “crucify him!”

Then we are on the move, darting between onlookers to catch a glimpse of Him. When the Cyrenian is pressed into service, we are beckoned too. Called to shoulder some share of His Cross and carry it along with Him to the high Hill where his sacrifice can be made more visible to the world. But we are reluctant to do what is asked of us. This is a messy scene. We see first the burden rather than the power of the Cross put before us. We measure its weight from afar and calculate the inconvenience in relation to our own plans. And yet, our Lord never ceases to invite gently, giving us strength to walk with Him a little further on the path.

And so, we continue with renewed courage. We walk hand-in-hand with His mother as the nails are driven through His sacred flesh. With Mary and John, we keep watch as His life slips away; we feel the magnitude of the moment of His death. And we are ready to assist in bringing down His body before placing it in the tomb.

Anticipating Like a Little Child

Holy Saturday has lost some of its resonance in our “buy it now” culture. But, while Christ descends to conquer death, the unseeing stillness that surrounds the sealed tomb summons us.

My mother is from the Azores Islands. Our family makes a traditional Portuguese Easter bread. It can be temperamental, its multiple rises affected by the weather and other factors. I am one of the last in my family to make it, the knowledge having been passed down over generations. It’s simply not Easter until the smell of that bread fills the air. My wife makes several amazing treats that we heroically avoid until after the Easter Vigil.

We are meant to busy ourselves with preparation on that day. To fill our homes with familiar sights and smells that draw our minds to tradition, symbolism, and family. We set these reminders on our tables but resist the temptation. And we wait.

We’ve lost somewhat our awareness of the human need to take in our faith with all our senses. But it is often a sound, or taste, or smell which brings us back when we stray. We are body and soul.

And then when we rush to the tomb in the chill morning air, our patient waiting gives way to a rising excitement. He is no longer there. Our self-denial on Holy Saturday heightens the drama and power of Easter. Like children we behold it all again in wonder.

Blooms on a Crown of Thorns

My wife makes a salt dough crown of thorns each Lent and places toothpicks in it. The dough hardens around the toothpicks. When one of us does a good deed, we put a toothpick in a jar. On Easter morning all the “thorns” in the jar are gone, replaced by jellybeans. Flowers are found growing all around the crown. The symbols of the passion have transformed from painful implements to sweet and beautiful reminders of what Jesus has won for us by His sacrifice.

You may have annual traditions that are a perfect fit for your family. If you don’t, there are many great ideas to choose from. Whatever you do, Jesus urges us to place ourselves back into the story during Holy Week. Our enjoyment of Easter will never again be the same if we take in what precedes it with great wonder and intention.

Dear Friend,

It took us eight years, but it was worth the wait.

On April 9th, we brought our “Citizens of Faith” conference back to Washington, D.C. The last time we held this event was in 2017, after Donald Trump was first elected. We wanted to look at what has happened since then—and how we, as Catholics, should prepare for what lies ahead.

All told, we hosted more than 150 just outside D.C., in Arlington, Virginia. We began with Mass, celebrated by the head of the USCCB—Archbishop Timothy Broglio.

Renewed by the presence of Christ, we then dived into the political and policy landscape we face today.

No doubt, there’s much to be excited about. Our speakers tackled everything from the rise of school choice to renewed defense of religious liberty to the long overdue recognition of the reality of the biological sex.

On so many issues, the Trump administration is advancing the principles and practices we hold dear. But there are also many issues where the path forward is less clear-cut, and we didn’t shy away from the complicated topics of the moment. We did what many seem unwilling to do these days – we discussed and debated them in a civil and open way according to our faith principles.

On immigration, there’s a balancing act on the need for strong borders and the rights of immigrants. On foreign policy, it’s an open question whether America can do everything we’ve historically done. And on pro-life, we need to see more action to defend the unborn—especially after President Trump did so much good in his first term.

There are so many areas where prudence is needed, and throughout the day, we discussed and prayed about finding the path forward.

One of the most meaningful speeches was by Archbishop Borys Gudziak, the Metropolitan of the Ukrainian Catholic Archeparchy of Philadelphia. He made a forceful plea for continued American support for Ukraine, leading to a lively discussion in the Q&A.

After his remarks, the Archbishop gave me a deeply moving icon painted on a box of ammunition from the frontlines in Ukraine.

Like all Napa Institute events, we had Confession, Adoration, and Masses throughout the day.

We also brought Jesus to the streets of Northern Virginia with a Eucharistic Procession. We processed by Amazon’s new “HQ2,” among other high-rise office buildings. Who knows how many hearts were shaped by our witness to our Lord and Savior?

I’m grateful to all our attendees, who came from across the country, as well as  all our speakers and sponsors. And I’m particularly grateful to the students from a number of Colleges and Universities who joined us – including the Busch School of Business at the Catholic University of America—they volunteered throughout the day.

The Citizens of Faith conference was a big success, and we’re now planning to make it a regular event. I hope you can attend in the years ahead.

There’s a first time for everything. On March 12, we hosted Napa’s first-ever Ecumenical Forum in New York City. It was eye-opening, to say the least—and it opened the door to some exciting collaborations.

All told, Steph and I along with Barry and Linda Rowan welcomed 15 Catholic and Protestant leaders into our home. Barry and Linda Rowan, our fellow Catholics and Napa friends, co-hosted.

On the Protestant side, we were joined by leaders from Christianity Today, InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, and various denominations. On the Catholic side, we had Fr. Ambrose Criste, O.Praem., and several others. Bishop Steven Lopes of the Personal Ordinariate of the Chair of St. Peter—which oversees the Anglicans in communion with the Catholic Church—bridged both sides, in a way.

Four Catholics and four Protestants led various discussions throughout the evening, which also included dinner and drinks. No doubt, our religious traditions are divided on many key issues.

But in our time together, we started from a place of common ground. We share a commitment to the Apostle’s Creed and the Nicene Creed, which celebrates its 1,700th anniversary this year.

We also share a profound concern about rising cultural hostility to core Christian teachings and truths. We all believe in the sanctity and right understanding of marriage. We are all committed to defending the unborn and vulnerable mothers. And we know that religious liberty is a fundamental right that must be protected in modern society.

Personally, I’m beyond grateful that the Catholic Church has remained consistent on these issues. While Protestantism is increasingly divided on them, our attendees were rooted in truth.

Before we departed, we all affirmed our desire to work together to restore Judeo-Christian principles in American culture and law. We agreed that spiritual warfare is real and worsening—and that the path forward depends on prayer and our shared faith in Jesus Christ. As we fix our eyes on Jesus he will show us our common ground for the benefit of the Common Good.

We also agreed to form a steering committee, with the goal of hosting more ecumenical gatherings and fostering partnerships that lead to action across society. We’re also looking for ways to involve a limited number of Protestants at the Napa Institute’s summer conference.

When I founded Napa, I wanted to help prepare Catholics for what Archbishop Chaput called the “Next America.”

The Next America has arrived, and as we confront the challenges ahead, it will help us to work with Protestants to defend our faith and the truth.

I hope this Ecumenical Forum is the start of many such collaborations. It may be the first time we’ve done this, but it won’t be the last.

“Let brotherly love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

– HEBREWS 13:2

Dear friends of Napa,

One of my goals for the Napa Institute this year is to double down on our spirit of hospitality—welcoming fellow Catholics like you into an extraordinary experience.

Hospitality has always been part of our mission, as you’ve hopefully witnessed at our events. (Trinitas wine, anyone?) The reason is simple, and it springs from Scripture.

In the life of Christ, we see hospitality come to life. He was constantly greeted with the generosity of strangers, who welcomed him into their homes with pomp and circumstance. In ancient times, hospitality was a grand affair—involving feasts, wine, and a great outpouring of warmth and friendliness.

It was a sign of great love even for those with very little to put all they had into welcoming the person at their door. Remember Elijah and the Widow at Zarephath?

The Church has embraced this spirit of hospitality ever since. For two thousand years, every week has centered on Sunday—a day of feasting and celebration over our Lord’s sacrifice, which is itself an entrance into the heavenly banquet which has no equal.

And the liturgical calendar is an ongoing invitation to hospitality. Every feast day is a chance to celebrate the life of the saints and the grace of Christ with our families, our friends, and yes, with strangers.

No wonder the Napa Institute has strived for hospitality since our founding!

But hospitality is harder and harder to come by these days. Fewer people than ever understand it and even fewer regularly practice it.

Unfortunately, in our polarized world and divided Church, our hospitality has drawn some criticism. (Though never from people who’ve experienced it!) Some have said that we’re too lavish.

My response to them is simple: How else should we reflect the love of Jesus Christ? With stinginess and sackcloth? No thank you! If Jesus Himself turned water into wine at the wedding at Cana, the least we can do is serve wine to all who walk through our doors!

This is why we’re doubling down on hospitality. We’re planning to make our conferences, dinners, trips, and other events even more welcoming and warm. A case in point is our Salon Dinners, which welcome Catholics across diverse ideological lines for an evening of prayer, fellowship, food, and drink.

There are offerings accessible to every person across the year. Often we charge nothing or a modest fee to attend one of our events, like last year’s evening with Cardinal Sarah or our Napa Nights at the Catholic Information Center in Washington, DC.

We don’t have a membership fee to be associated with us, though we do hope you’ll pray for our work.

We invite you to join us this year—to experience this spirit of hospitality for yourself.

Take a look at our upcoming events. Some of them may interest you; it’s not too early to register. You won’t regret the hospitality you find at the Napa Institute!

Dear Friends,

I write to announce some exciting news.

Effective January 1, the Napa Institute will have a new president—Mark Rohlena. Mark has served with distinction as our executive director since the start of 2024.

In that time, he has strengthened the Institute across the board, based on our three pillars of fraternity, liturgy, and faith formation.

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Dear Friends of Napa Institute:

Serving the mission of Napa Institute is, at times, surreal. Where else can a person have this tremendous vantage point – to see and support the great good going on in the Church among her clergy, the lay faithful in dedicated apostolates, and those who steward their gifts so well for the benefit of the Church; to rally these champions and amplify their work as we do?

Every day, I wake up with a deep sense of gratitude.

And thanks to the amazing team we have – Tim and Steph Busch, Fr. Spitzer, our dedicated and supportive Board and Guild, awesome staff who pour out their hearts into our shared work, and scores of friends of Napa—we get to do some pretty cool things for God’s glory.

A year has passed quickly, but so much has happened. A passage from St. Paul comes to mind, “Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, for ever and ever” (Eph 3:20-21).

God meets our abandonment with His abundance, every single day.

I am grateful for the confidence and constant support of Tim and our Board, and am humbled to be asked to serve as Napa’s 2nd President.

That, too, is surreal. Fr. Robert Spitzer is an intellectual giant and a personal hero. I’ve already learned so much from him and am deeply grateful for his friendship. We give thanks for all Father has done and continues to do for Napa Institute, now as Vice-Chairman.

Father Spitzer has regularly preached that we should focus on the “contributive” rather than the “comparative.” To constantly compare our efforts or gifts to others’ is to poison our souls and derail our callings.

But if we rise each day with openness to what God is asking of us and embrace the people and tasks he sets before us with great love, then our lives will have meaning far beyond our wildest dreams.

And that is our outlook at the Napa Institute. Jesus Christ puts at our disposal all of the truth, goodness, and beauty contained in the entire universe and beyond. Our mission is to place as much of this treasure as we can into the hands of Catholic leaders and support them as they use it well. That is our contribution.

In the coming days, we will be charting new and exciting ways to lift up apostolates and unify them, assist priests and bishops more intentionally in their vocations, and connect and support rising leaders in taking on the big opportunities set out before them, among other things.

Leading Napa Institute, given the foundation set by so many these past 14+ years, is one of my most precious gifts. Please pray for all of us to build well upon that foundation in the days ahead.

Sincerely yours in Christ,

Mark Rohlena

Executive Director, Napa Institute