We Don't Pray to Ice — We Pray to Christ

As Catholics, we’re called to care for creation — not worship it. Stewardship is obedience. Idolization is rebellion.

Recently, Pope Leo XIV blessed a block of glacier ice, praying that it would “awaken our hearts, cleanse our indifference, soothe our grief, and renew our hope.” I say this with respect for the office of Peter — but with the same boldness of a Catholic mom who refuses to stay silent when something doesn’t sit right.

Because ice can’t awaken hearts. Ice can’t cleanse indifference. Ice can’t soothe grief or renew hope. Only Jesus Christ can.
He alone heals. He alone restores. He alone renews.

Do we have a duty to care for God’s creation? Absolutely. But the Earth has been changing since the beginning of time — long before humanity burned a single gallon of gas or flipped a light switch. The world isn’t meant to last forever; God Himself said so. When the end comes, it won’t be because of carbon emissions — it’ll be because He wills it.

If the prayer had asked the Lord to help us steward His creation wisely until His return, I’d have applauded it. But praying to a piece of ice to “stir our hearts”? That’s not faith — that’s confusion dressed up as compassion.

And it’s not a good look for the Church. Non-Catholics see it and say, “See? Idol worship.” Some Catholics are ready to jump ship. But hear me — don’t leave the boat. The Barque of Peter might feel storm-tossed, but Jesus is still at the helm. He hasn’t abandoned His Bride, and He never will.

But here’s the thing: we can’t just pray quietly and hope things fix themselves. We start with prayer, yes, but then we speak truth boldly — respectfully, but unapologetically.

When people ask, “Who’s going to save the Church?”
Here’s your answer: we are the Church.
You. Me. Every baptized Catholic who dares to live the faith in full.

And as Catholics, when we say we are the Body of Christ, that’s not poetic — it’s literal. Every time we receive Holy Communion at Mass, we are physically and spiritually united to Him. We are receiving into our own bodies the true Presence — Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity — of our Lord Jesus Christ in every single Eucharistic Host. We don’t need symbolic ice to awaken our hearts — we have the Living God dwelling within us.

That’s where our hope is. That’s where our renewal comes from. Not from glaciers, not from climate summits — from the Eucharist.

And like St. Catherine of Siena, we’re called to stand up, speak truth, and call our leaders — lovingly but firmly — back to holiness. She wrote fearless, pointed letters to popes and priests when they lost their fire. Even her own confessor once excused her sins until she said, “How can you, a priest, excuse sin?” He thought she was too hard on herself — until he realized she was right.

That’s the kind of holy boldness we need again. Righteous fire. Salty truth. Love that doesn’t flinch.

So yes — pray for our Pope. Pray for our priests. Pray for the purification of our Church.
But after you pray — open your mouth.
Speak truth with conviction.
Don’t let fear or “niceness” muzzle you.

Because souls aren’t saved by glacier ice — they’re saved by grace.
And if we really believe that, we’d better start acting like it.