Author Bill Hulseman Weaves Faith and Storytelling in a Journey of Belonging
In a cultural climate that increasingly questions institutional religion and redefines spiritual belonging, Bill Hulseman’s six to carry the casket and one to say the mass: reflections on life, identity, and moving forward offers a refreshing, deeply personal reimagining of what it means to be Catholic today. With reverence and critical insight, Hulseman writes from within the tradition, inviting readers into a form of Catholicism that is alive, reflective, and unapologetically human.
At its core, this book is a love letter to a faith that has shaped Hulseman not just theologically, but existentially. And yet it does not shy away from the complexities, contradictions, and crises that often accompany belief in the modern world. Hulseman’s approach is not to defend Catholicism in abstract terms but to demonstrate how it has offered him grounding through the tangible experiences of loss, identity formation, and communal life.
The title’s reference to both the physical act of carrying the casket and the spiritual role of saying the mass sets the tone for a book that blurs the lines between liturgy and life. These images reflect a sacramental worldview in which ordinary actions carry sacred significance. Hulseman does not reserve holiness for the altar; he finds it in memories, conversations, funerals, and family meals. This incarnational vision of faith reflects a distinctly Catholic ethos, one that finds God not only in heaven but in the dust and grit of everyday life.
One of Hulseman’s key insights is that Catholic identity is not something static, but something lived. It evolves. It questions. It wrestles. Readers will not find rigid doctrinal debates in these pages; instead, they will encounter a spirituality that is both deeply rooted and refreshingly open. Through storytelling and reflection, Hulseman reclaims Catholicism as a dynamic, lived tradition, a journey rather than a destination.
This redefinition of identity is especially resonant for readers who feel both connected to and disillusioned by the Church. Hulseman’s honest engagement with institutional flaws, whether clericalism, exclusion, or moral failure, is not cynical. Instead, it stems from a place of love and hope. He models what it looks like to stay, to engage, and to reform from within, all while holding space for those who have stepped away.
His reflections are grounded in what might be called “domestic theology”, the kind practiced around kitchen tables, hospital beds, and cemetery plots. He recalls the prayers of grandparents, the witness of parishioners, the comfort of ritual. In doing so, he reminds readers that Catholic identity is not only about beliefs but about habits, rhythms, and relationships. These lived expressions of faith are where theology becomes real.
Hulseman is particularly effective in showing how Catholic tradition can support people through grief. The book’s structure moves gently through mourning, memory, and renewal, using the Church’s liturgical cycle as a kind of spiritual scaffolding. The sacraments are not presented as obligations but as anchors, rituals that tether the soul during times of upheaval.
The memoir also serves as an invitation to reclaim participation. Hulseman lifts up the idea that Catholicism is not merely something one receives but something one practices and co-creates. “one to say the mass” becomes not just a reference to clergy but a metaphor for all of us. We are all called to bless, to remember, to celebrate, and to offer. In this vision, the Church is not a hierarchy but a body, with each person playing a part.
This democratizing impulse aligns with Hulseman’s broader themes of community and belonging. Catholic identity, in his view, is less about adhering to a checklist of beliefs and more about embodying the virtues of compassion, hospitality, remembrance, and justice. It is about being part of a story that is larger than oneself—and choosing to tell that story with grace.
In a time of polarization and spiritual fragmentation, six to carry the casket and one to say the mass offers a hopeful, grounded way of being Catholic. It invites readers to dig deep into tradition without becoming trapped by it, to honor memory without idolizing the past, and to live faith not as performance but as presence.
For anyone who has loved and lost, questioned and returned, or simply yearned for a more embodied way of believing, Bill Hulseman’s reflections are a gift. His work is a testament to faith that is lived, shared, and ever unfolding.
Discover more from the author at www.billhulseman.com.
