Hoping for Blanton's Gold

Second Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  In October, when I travelled with two other priests and my two barbers down to Kentucky, we had an interesting experience.  It was Wednesday.  My two barbers had gone back to Michigan, because they could only take a couple of days off of work.  So the two other priests, Fr. Brian and Fr. Paul, and I were eating breakfast.  One of the barbers, Zach, texted me to let me know that he had seen that Buffalo Trace was selling Blanton’s Gold, a special kind of Blanton’s bourbon, that day.  It’s often hard enough to find Blanton’s in Michigan, let alone the gold variety.  
    But it was 8:30 a.m., and we three priests were finishing up breakfast in Shepherdsville, Kentucky, about one hour away from Frankfort and Buffalo Trace, and Buffalo Trace opened at 9.  I asked Frs. Brian and Paul if they wanted to try to get some Blanton’s Gold, even though they probably wouldn’t have a lot to sell, there would likely be lots of people already there, or quickly arriving, and we had a 10 a.m. distillery tour that we would have to cancel.  They agreed we should try.
    We got in Fr. Brian’s Jeep, and realized, as we got on the freeway, that we had around 53 miles worth of gas, and Buffalo Trace was around 59 miles away.  So we had to stop and quickly put in 3 gallons of gas, just to make sure we didn’t run out of gas in our effort to get there.  I don’t know how fast Fr. Brian drove, and I didn’t want to know, but we made good time.  When we made it, there was no line, which made me think they were all sold out.  We walked hurriedly into the check-in building, and said we just wanted to go to the gift shop.  The person working the desk said that they had E.H. Taylor and Weller Special Reserve that day.  And then he paused, and continued, “And we also have something else special, but I don’t know if there’s any left.  We just received a red warning, which means that they’ve put out the rest of the supply on the floor, and they won’t be restocking once it’s gone.”  We walked like professional Olympic power-walkers to the gift shop, I almost slipped on the wet floor once I got inside the building, and there, before our eyes, were about 30 more bottles of Blanton’s Gold (limit one per person).  We had hoped that we could get some before it sold out, and we achieved the object of our hope, with all the bottles selling out within 30 minutes of our arrival.

    Advent is a season of hope, not for Blanton’s Gold, but for Christ.  We hear St. Paul tell the Romans today: “Whatever was written previously was written for our instruction, that by endurance and by the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”  During Advent we enter in to the hope of the Chosen People in those centuries of waiting for the Messiah.  We enter in to the hope that children so wonderfully exemplify as we wait to celebrate Christmas.  We enter in to the hope of Christ’s return in glory at the end of time.  We do a lot of hoping during this Advent season.
    And before us stands the great prophet of hope, St. John the Baptist.  He is the one who prepares the way for the Lord, and informs the people that their hope is about to be fulfilled as the Lamb of God comes to them.  He calls others to repentance so that they are ready to attain the object of their hope, the Messiah.
    But what is hope?  “Hope,” the Catechism tells us, “is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit.”  The Catechism continues, 
 

The virtue of hope responds to the aspiration of happiness which God has placed in the heart of every man; it takes up the hopes that inspire men’s activities and purifies them so as to order them to the Kingdom of heaven; it keeps man from discouragement; it sustains him during times of abandonment; it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude.

Hope, in its highest form, points us toward heaven and eternal salvation.  Hope keeps us going when the going gets tough.  Hope reminds us that this world is not all there is, but that all will be made right when Christ returns in glory.  
    But hope means that we do not yet possess what we desire.  St. Paul, earlier in his letter to the Romans, writes, “Now hope that sees for itself is not hope.  For who hopes for what one sees?”  I didn’t hope for Blanton’s Gold once I put it in my cart; I possessed it.  Hope carried us on as we traveled I-64 east bound and down, as the song goes.  

    And because we do not yet possess eternal life, we can doubt, which is the vice opposite hope.  We wonder if the waiting is really worth it, and if our reward will ever get here, like a child who wonders if 25 December will ever get here.  Even St. John the Baptist seems to have had some doubts.  After our Lord began His public ministry and Herod had arrested John, John sent messengers to ask Christ: “‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?’”  Even while Christ was on earth, the Kingdom was not established in its fulness.  But already, signs were present that it was breaking into the world, and that Christ would install it: “‘The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, [and] the poor have the good news preached to them.’”  
    So, in our own time, there are signs to us of the Kingdom’s approach.  More and more people come to faith and Holy Baptism; they receive strength to walk towards Christ and lead others through Confirmation; God cleans us of sin through confession; God heals our lack of openness to His Word; we rise to new life through Holy Baptism; and those who know they need God do not go away disappointed.  God continues to bring about His kingdom, if we have eyes to see.  St. Theresa of Avila encourages us:
 

Hope, O my soul, hope.  You know neither the day nor the hour.  Watch carefully, for everything passes quickly, even though your impatience makes doubtful what is certain, and turns a very short time into a long one.  Dream that the more you struggle, the more you prove the love that you bear your God, and the more you will rejoice one day with your Beloved, in a happiness and rapture that can never end.

    So, during this Advent season, may we continue to hope.  May it help us persevere when doubts creep it.  May hope strengthen us to keep walking when the pilgrimage through this vale of tears seems too difficult.  And may our hope be rewarded when, at our death or the return of Christ in glory, we see the object of our hope, God, face to face [the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, who lives and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen].

Advent: A Time of Conversion

First Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  One of the many duties with which I help out for the Michigan State Police, or MSP for short, is working with those who want to join the MSP.  Wednesday nights will generally find me at Grand Blanc High School as I help applicants with water rescue drills (like treading water while passing a 10-pound brick, water pull-ups, and rescuing me or others who pretend to be drowning).  I have also “helped” applicants with physical training (though, they have mostly been in better shape than I am).  There’s a new Trooper Recruit School that will start in January, the 150th since the Department was founded in 1917, and a few of the applicants I have worked with will be in that school.  I want to make sure they are prepared as they can be before it starts, and I’m excited and hopeful for them to make it all the way through the twenty grueling weeks and graduate in May 2026.  I can’t do it for them, but I can assist them before and pray for them during their training.

    In Advent we focus on preparing for Christ: for His first coming some 2,000 years ago; for our celebration of His coming at Christmas; for His return in glory (we often refer to this as His second coming).  But He also comes to us, and not only us, in our day-to-day lives.  Our readings today, especially our Gospel, focus us on remaining watchful for the return of Christ in glory.  But we should also remain on high alert for the ways Christ wants to come to us today, and tomorrow, and the days afterwards.
    I also believe that Advent is also a special time to recognize how Christ comes to those who do not know Him, or do not know Him fully.  Advent is a special time to focus on conversions for those who do not believe in Christ, or for those who believe in Christ but do not have full union with the one Church He founded (the Catholic Church), or for those who have fallen away from the practice of their faith.  Are we attentive to how Christ works in the lives of those who are, in any way, ignorant of Him?
    It might seem odd to think that Christ could work in the heart of someone who is not directly connected to God in one way or another or who has walked away from Him.  But God offers what we call prevenient grace, the grace that comes before a movement of the soul towards God.  If we didn’t acknowledge this, we would say that we do some good work without God, and that God simply affirms the good we work we have begun, or gives us an ‘atta boy for something He hadn’t planned for us.  Instead, we know that any movement toward God is already a grace, because God begins all good work, and our job consists in cooperating with that grace.
    So who are the people in our lives that do not yet know God or do not recognize Christ as the Messiah or do not practice their Catholic faith?  God desires the salvation of every person.  God doesn’t want us to force conversion (as if a true conversion could be forced), but wants us to help others understand that He does exist, and not only that, but He loves us and wants to be in a relationship with us.  How do we do this?  For starters, we pray for that person.  Saul, who later became St. Paul, did not at first believe that our Lord was the Messiah, but I’m sure people prayed that he, a great Jewish scholar, might have the scales fall from his mind that prevented him from acknowledging how Jesus fulfilled the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah.  And we know just how powerfully that happened, and how St. Paul became one of the world’s greatest proclaimers of the Gospel.  And all that from the prayers of those who followed Christ and who probably suffered persecution from Saul.
    Secondly, we can be attentive to what’s going on in a friend’s life.  When a person struggles or when an unexpected favor happens, that’s a great time to talk to them about God and His Church.  Christ wants the other to see how faith in Him can conquer any problem, and that He showers His blessings upon every person so that they can believe in Him.  But Christ uses us to help others to see that.  Maybe the conversation about God is not too explicit at first, but helping others to see God’s plan, and the ways we can cooperate with that plan, can help bring a person to faith.
    Thirdly, we can help them see that a full relationship with God and the truth He has revealed happens in the Catholic Church.  Sometimes Catholics get a little queasy about this part, because they may not feel like they know enough about the Church to answer all questions a person might have.  Don’t be afraid of saying, “I don’t know; let’s find out together.”  Or maybe, “I’ve always just trusted that it was true.  I can ask around to make sure this makes sense.”  The truths of the faith will stand up to any inquiry and academic rigor.  We don’t have to be afraid of other people questioning certain teachings.  
    So this Advent, commit yourself to watching for Christ to make himself known in someone who is not Catholic.  Pray for a non-Catholic or fallen away Catholic; help a non-Catholic or fallen away Catholic see how God is working or could work in his or her life; explain why the Catholic Church means so much to you and how her teachings help one live a truly happy life.  Will you always see successful conversions?  No.  But you will fulfill the call of Advent to watch for Christ’s coming in your daily life, and what joy you will have if that person does decide to become Catholic and join us as we all watch and wait for Christ to return in glory [who, with the Father, and the Holy Spirit, live and reign for ever.  Amen].

Preparing for the End

Last Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  No small number of people spend no small amount of time trying to figure out exactly when the end of the world will come.  It’s like the meme on the Internet of the Pepe Silvia conspiracy board from the show, “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.”  I’ve never watch the show, but from time-to-time I’ll see the meme with this office worker who has a stressed look on his face as he points to numerous sheets of paper push-pinned to the board with red lines going between the papers.  
    We ourselves may sometimes go down a rabbit hole or two as we hear these passages and then think of how the world seems to be spinning out of control.  Our Lord talks about false messiahs, the darkening of the sun and moon, stars falling from heaven, and the like.  Elsewhere Christ talks about wars, earthquakes, famines, plagues, and other calamities, all of which we have seen all too frequently.  And certainly we know that the return of Christ in glory is closer today than it was yesterday.  
    But the temptation can be that we’re so focused on trying to figure out if it’s now, or tomorrow, or next week, that we miss out on opportunities for growth in holiness, that will make the end times less problematic for us.  St. Paul tells us in the epistle that God desires us to grow in wisdom and spiritual understanding, to allow our good works to bear fruit, and to grow in knowledge of Him.  We know from Christ the God desires that we love Him with all of who we are and love our neighbor as ourselves.  Christ tells us that our judgement won’t go easier just because we had a passing familiarity with Him (“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.”).  And He tells us the way we treat the hungry, thirsty, stranger, naked, ill, and those in prison will determine our judgement because the way we treated them were the ways we treated Christ.  What Christ doesn’t say is that we will go to heaven if we can decipher on what day and at which hour the end will come (which, point of fact, Christ one earth even said that He does not know).
    Christ does say that the end will be difficult.  He reminds us in the Gospel that if He did not shorten the tribulations, not even the elect would be saved.  But, for those who follow God to the best of their ability, they will survive the tribulations and shine like the stars in the heavens.  Christ uses the image of a woman in childbirth for how painful the end will be, but then the joy of having the newborn child makes the nine months of carrying the child and the pains of delivering the child worth it.  Or, for men, the pain and suffering from a man-cold, and the joy that comes when it finally ends.  
    But if we remain faithful to God, no matter what trials and tribulations come, we will enjoy eternal happiness.  It is as our gradual said, “You have delivered us, O Lord, from those who afflict us.”  The end will be difficult because God will be setting everything right that was wrong.  And just like setting a broken bone, the healing begins with some pain.  It will remain painful for those who persist in their brokenness and rejection of God, because God will respect their free choice and allow them the pain and suffering that come from rejecting God and His eternal happiness.  But for those who reached out for the mercy of God, the healing, though painful at first, will result in great joy and wholeness as we finally fulfill the purpose of our lives: eternal worship of God and having our loves ordered correctly.
    So what do we do?  Maybe it’s better to say what we don’t do.  Don’t waste time wondering if this world event, or if this situation in the Church, or if that natural phenomenon means the end is about to come.  Don’t stress out about things beyond our control.  Worrying and trying to determine the exact signs and times doesn’t help us grow closer to God.  Yes, we may mourn that Christ is so opposed in the world and the evil seem to thrive and calamities seem to multiply.  But rather do live a holy life as a husband or wife, father or mother, child or sibling, employer or employee.  Care for your family; show them the love of God; instruct them in the faith.  Treat people justly and as you would want to be treated.  Love your enemies; pray for those who persecute you.  Be harsh on your own sins, but merciful, patient, and understanding with others’.  Take up your daily cross and follow after the Lord, even if it’s not the cross you want to carry.  
     Christ will return, and His return is closer today than yesterday.  But if we do our best to follow Him with all our hearts, we have nothing to fear and everything to gain.  Christ will make the world right and usher in an eternity of joy, peace, truth, and love as He creates a new heaven and a new earth where all the elect will worship God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.   

Not the King We Expected

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
    A bishop I know once had a meeting when he was a priest with his diocesan bishop.  During that meeting, the diocesan bishop said to this priest, “You know, you’re not everything I would want in a priest.”  Talk about demoralizing!  But this priest who became a bishop then used this story to transition to talking with his priests, and admitted that he knows he’s not everything his priests would like to see in a bishop.  But he does his best to follow God’s will and be the best bishop he can be.

    As we celebrate the Solemnity of Christ the King of the Universe, the Gospel presents us with perhaps a different version of a king than we were expecting or want.  When we think of kings, we probably think of pomp and circumstance, fine robes, jeweled crowns, and amazing power.  Instead, our Gospel presents us what looks like utter failure as Christ hangs on the cross as a common criminal, and those around Him mock Him.  In place of pomp there is jeering.  In place of fine robes Christ had his cloak torn off His Sacred Body before they put the nails in His hands and feet.  In place of a jeweled crown He wears a crown of thorns.  And in place of amazing power Christ allows the powers of the world and Hell to rush upon Him, seemingly powerless to stop any of it.
    But the best king the world has ever or will ever have is Jesus.  And yet, His kingship is a tension of seeming paradoxes.  Christ is King on the cross, and Christ is King in heaven.  Christ is King naked in suffering, and Christ is King robed in majesty.  Christ is King in His agony, and Christ is King in His glorification.  But often times, if we’re honest, we prefer one over the other.  We might say, like that bishop said to his priest, “You’re not everything I would want in a king.”  
    We try to keep that tension as Christ’s faithful on earth.  We should both venerate Christ as King in glory and Christ as King in the earthly way He manifests Himself.  Both have value and importance.  Both help us to be faithful subjects of Christ our King.
    As far as glory, we do our best to demonstrate that in our Mass.  This temple uses precious materials like stained-glass, marble, beautiful paint, and precious metal vessels to show that we give our best to Christ our King.  Christ is worthy of all of our best materials, and we give that to him.  I wear special vestments which cost a fair amount of money.  We use special books to convey the Word of God, especially the Book of the Gospels.  We use a special instrument, the organ, which both mimics the human voice, but also brings with it the sound of trumpets and strings.  So much of what we do is wholly unnecessary and superfluous, but yet fitting for a king, just as DaVinci’s “Mona Lisa” or Michelangelo’s “David” is not, strictly speaking, a necessary part of the world, but adds wonder and awe and glory to the world.
    But our best is not just in reference to the sanctuary or the different ministers.  You should also bring your best to lay at the feet of the King.  Do we come as attentive as we can to Mass, not drowsy from the night before because we stayed up too late watching college football or drinking?  Do we take a look at the readings a few days before so that we can more deeply appreciate them as the reader proclaims them to us?  Do we do our best to dress better for the King than we do for our usual daily tasks?  Do we fast one hour before receiving our heavenly King, the Body and Blood of Christ, to prepare our bodies for so great a guest?  Do we exteriorly respond to the prayers and sing, to the best of our ability, the hymns and sung responses?  Do we unite all that has happened since the last time we came to Mass with the bread and wine offered on the altar so that we truly give ourselves to God, as He desires?  Certainly, some of these are tough, especially with young children, but can we say that we’re doing our best?
    On the other hand, Christ is King from the cross and in His suffering that continues in His members.  Do we allow the beautiful, glorified encounter with Christ the King to transform us so that we can meet Christ the King as we meet Him in our day-to-day lives?  There was a chart that I received when I studied liturgy in Chicago, and it broke up the Mass into three parts.  It was based on the pre-Conciliar Mass, but easily translated into the post-Conciliar Mass.  The first part of the Mass was what used to be called the Mass of the Catechumens, or the Liturgy of the Word.  The second part of the Mass was called the Mass of the Faithful, what we now call the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  But the third part of the Mass was called the Mass During the Day, not reflecting the time of Mass, but demonstrating that what happens at Mass is supposed to affect how we live our lives outside the church walls.  Another term for this was Catholic Action, or how we work, rest, eat, drink, play, and treat the poor as Catholics.  It is in our homes, in our jobs, on the roads, on our vacations, in our encounter with the poor that we also encounter Christ the King.  And how do we serve that manifestation of Christ in His Kingship?  Are we ready to serve Christ the King in the more mundane and messy parts of life?  
    Christ is King both in the aspect of glory here in this church as well as in the beggar, the co-worker, the family member, the immigrant, the police officer or firefighter, the politician, and any other person we encounter each day.  May we recognize Christ as King not only in His glory, but also in His suffering.  And I’ll end with a prayer that can help us serve Christ our King, not only as we want Him to be King, but as He truly is King:
 

Almighty and ever-living God,
Author of Light and Life,
enlighten our minds and strengthen our wills,
so that we may practice in our lives 
what we have celebrated at your holy altar 
and received into our hearts.
Through Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Treasuring the Word of God

Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Earlier this week I was speaking with a friend I have known for a few years now.  I wouldn’t say I know him really well, but continue to get to know him in the few times when we see each other throughout the year.  He asked me how St. Matthew was doing, and I mentioned how we’re growing.  He told me that he attends a Protestant community, but then opened up and told me that he was baptized Catholic, and even was an altar server.  He said that he never really liked going to Mass.  At this Protestant community he enjoyed the music, but then also mentioned how he really enjoyed the Bible study that the community puts on for adults and kids.  He then shared that he never remembered his dad ever opening up a Bible, and how strange that was, and how he makes sure that his children know the Bible well and he, as their father, shares that with them.  After he had shared this, he had to get to something else, but I said we should sit down and talk about his experiences more when he has a chance.  We’ll see if that ever happens or not.
    Are we familiar with the Word of God?  St. Jerome famously said, while commenting on the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, that ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ.  How familiar are we with the Scriptures?  Do you as parents, especially fathers, take leadership in sharing the Word of God and unpacking it for your children?
    The Bible is our book as Catholics.  The Catholic Church, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, decided which books would be in it.  Holy Mother Church chose to include the books that the Jews venerated as God’s revelation to humanity, and chose to include four Gospel accounts of the life, Death, and Resurrection of Christ, letters from some of the Apostles, and the Apocalypse of Saint John, also called the Book of Revelation.  God didn’t send down a list on papyrus.  Those whom God called to act in the name of Christ and with His power, the bishops, discerned which writings were consistent with what Christ had revealed and the Apostles had passed down, and which were inconsistent, or even simply not necessary for salvation.  What a scandal that a Catholic wouldn’t feel comfortable with a big part of how God has revealed Himself until he left the Catholic Church!  

    When we starve ourselves from the Scriptures, we are like the young girl who is at the point of death, or the woman with the flow of blood.  We need Christ to heal us and raise us up.  If we are so near death from lack of familiarity with the Word of God, then sometimes it takes another to bring about the resurrection of our faith life.  In the Gospel it was the young girl’s father who pleaded with the Savior to heal his daughter.  Fathers, you often have an important role to play in reinvigorating the life of faith in your families, especially your children.  But I would also say mothers play such an important role in modeling familiarity with the Word of God as well.  
    Sometimes we can bring ourselves to Christ and the Scriptures, because we know they will bring us healing.  We have tried everything else, all the other doctors that are available to us.  We have tried every other kind of wisdom, but have found it lacking.  But in the Word of God, if we have faith in its power, as the woman had faith that she could receive healing even if she only touched the clothes of the Lord, we can find the healing we have desired that we have found nowhere else.  But we need to have faith in the power of God’s Word.
    Now, I know that Catholics often point out, and rightly so, that God’s revelation does not limit itself to the Scriptures.  The Bible itself is part of a greater revelation, because the Bible comes to us not from itself, but from the living Tradition of the Church.  And certainly we should also learn what the popes and bishops have taught us throughout the two millennia of the Church’s history, especially that which is part of the deposit of faith.
    But that deposit of faith always finds its roots in the Scriptures.  Not everything that the Church teaches explicitly connects to a particular passage, but everything at least implicitly connects to the Scriptures.  From our belief in the Trinity, our Blessed Mother’s immaculate conception and assumption, the seven Sacraments, and all that is part of Christ’s one Church, we find either direct or indirect evidence of it in God’s revelation through His Word.  The Church Fathers knew this all too well.  If you read any of the Church Fathers, they quote the Scriptures fluidly through their own writings.  The Bible was a story with which they were intimately familiar and through which they could understand the truths of faith.  One of the great fruits of the Second Vatican Council was a call to return to familiarity with the Scriptures that the Church had during the time of the Church Fathers.  We are still growing in that fruit of the Council, but it was a great blessing of the Holy Spirit, nonetheless.
    So many Catholic families need healing from the Word of God.  So many Catholic families are at the point of spiritual death because they do not read the Bible.  Today, reach out to the Lord to find healing in the Word of God.  Allow the Word of God to raise you to new life through its power and its wisdom.  May your children never say of you, as my friend did of his father, that you never opened the Bible for them and helped them know and love the Word of God, the loving communication of salvation from the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Same Event, Different Experience

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    It was fun last Sunday to see the Detroit Lions dominate the game offensively.  No matter what Washington did, they could not seem to stop Detroit’s offense, with the worst results for most of the drives of the game being a field goal and only three points rather than the usual seven points for a touchdown and extra point.  After some rough games this season, it was good to see a strong Lions team again.
    But imagine for a second that you were cheering for the Commanders.  Sunday was not a day you really wanted to remember.  The things that made it so great for the Lions made it pretty horrible for the Commanders.  In any contest, what is good news for one is bad news for the other.
    In this penultimate Sunday in Ordinary Time before we begin Advent, our readings focus us on the end of time.  And the Prophet Malachi, in particular, presents us with this idea that the same event, the day of the Lord, will be bad for some, but great for others.  For some it will be a day of pain and suffering, with the proud and the evildoers burning up like stubble in a field.  For those who fear the name of the Lord, the sun (s-u-n) of justice will heal with its rays.  As Catholics we know that Christ is the true Sun of Justice because He is the Son (s-o-n) of God and Son of Man.  We look for the same event, Christ’s return in glory, but it will not seem the same for everyone.  For some it will appear as a day of joy, for others a day of wailing and gnashing of teeth.
    When we come to this time of year, the Church traditionally puts before us, as she did at every funeral in the old rite, the hymn Dies Irae.  The title means “Day of Wrath.”  And the first verses focus on what the return of Christ will be like for evildoers:
 

Day of watch and doom impending!
David’s word with Sibyl’s blending,
Heaven and earth in ashes ending!

Oh, what fear man’s bosom renders,
When from heaven the Judge descendeth,
On whose sentence all dependeth.

That certainly gives us a wake-up call for what the end could be like if we do not give our hearts over to God and open ourselves to His grace which transforms us.  
    But, it continues:

Faint and weary, Thou hast sought me,
On the Cross of suffering bought me.
Shall such grace be vainly brought me?…

Guilty, now I pour my moaning,
All my shame with anguish owning;
Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning!

Through the sinful woman shriven,
Through the dying thief forgiven,
Thou to me a hope hast given.

With Thy sheep a place provide me,
From the goats afar divide me,
To Thy right hand do Thou guide me….

Lord, all-pitying, Jesus blest,
Grant them Thine eternal rest.
Amen.

While not pretending to be blameless, the return of Christ for those who love the Lord means a time of salvation and the rectification of all that evil has ruined, so that the souls of the just can have eternal rest.
    The key, then, is what team we are on?  Not Team Edward or Team Jacob (you’re welcome, “Twilight” fans), but Dies irae-Day of wrath or spem dedisti–a hope given.  Because the end will mean suffering.  Our Lord outlines the things that will precede the end: wars, insurrections, powerful earthquakes, famines, plagues, and persecution of the followers of Christ.  Those who work against Christ will think that they have won.  They will try to get Christ’s faithful to abandon their virtue, to abandon Christ, and will offer apparent ways out of the tribulations that may even mean less or even no suffering in the short terms.  But for those who remain faithful to Christ, who persevere, the time of sorrow and suffering will lead to a day of hope and victory in Christ, who will reward those who remained true even when turning away seemed easier and more enjoyable.  
    [Ava & Wade: you are choosing to follow Christ today, and Christ receives you as His catechumen.  This means that Christ already recognizes you as a follower, even if you have not yet become part of Him through Holy Baptism.  You are abandoning the logic of the world, the flesh, and the devil, and striving to live according to the logic of the Logos, the Divine Word, who helps us understand how God has truly created the world.  You are choosing hope in place of wrath, and for that we give thanks to God and promise you our prayers.]
    The end comes, seemingly ever faster.  We find ourselves closer to the return of Christ in glory today than we were yesterday.  This time of year reminds us to take stock of our choices, which do not only have consequences in time, but have consequences into eternity.  Christ will return in glory, and how we view that day will depend on how we lived each day before that: for or against Christ.  May the words of Dies Irae apply to us as the just so that, “When the wicked are confounded, / Doomed to flames of woe unbounded, / Call me with Thy saints surrounded.”

Busting Myths

Feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of St. John Lateran
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  Sometimes we hear things that sound good or make apparent sense, which, in the end, do not hold up.  I’m the sort of guy who generally fills up my gas tank when it’s half full, and I started doing this because, when I was young, someone (I can’t remember for sure who) told me that gas could freeze in the tank in the winter if there was room in the tank.  I recently mentioned that, and the other person challenged me on the factuality of that claim.  And it turns out, gas freezes somewhere between -40º and -200º Fahrenheit.  So it’s not going to freeze.  And even if the temperature at which gas freezes is higher, it would freeze whether they tank was half full or entirely full.  So, myth busted.  
    We might have heard another myth: that I can worship God just as well outside a church as I can inside a church.  People may say that they feel closer to God in nature.  Or they feel the comfort of God’s presence best in their home.  Or, in a post-COVID world, some will say that they prefer to attend Mass via livestream.  Certainly, God is present everywhere, indoors and outdoors.  Certainly our homes are places of comfort.  And, for a while, many people’s legitimate only access point to the Mass was through a computer screen.

    But as we celebrate the Dedication of the Basilica of St. John Lateran today, if those statements about worshiping God that I just mentioned are true, then why do we celebrate a church, albeit beautiful and awe-inspiring, in Rome?  And why even bother coming here?  If we can access God, who is omnipresent, anywhere, what’s the point in going to church on Sunday or any other day?
    The tricky thing about bad teachings is that something which is false tends to include something that is true.  If it had no truthful aspect, we would reject it outright.  But if it has some truth to it, we might choose to believe because we recognize some aspect of truth.  So yes, God is present everywhere.  Yes, people can easily experience God in nature.  Yes, God does sometimes give us comfort, and our homes can remind us of that comforting presence of God.  And yes, what churches broadcast through the livestream is the Mass, and for the sick or those who cannot drive to Mass, that is a better way to celebrate Sunday, the Lord’s Day, rather than just watching the NFL or playing Yahtzee.  
    But just because God is everywhere doesn’t mean He is equally present everywhere.  God can be experienced through a beautiful sunset, or a powerful storm.  But the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of the Son of God, Jesus Christ, brings God’s presence to us in a way that occurs no where else outside of a church.  I promise you that the Eucharist will not materialize before you in your hunting blind on Saturday.  Saints like St. Clare have had visions of the Eucharist (which is why she is the patron saint of television), but the unique presence of Christ in the Eucharist comes with a church building.  God makes Himself present to us in a special way and even wants us to receive the Body and Blood of Christ so that we can have God within us.  And receiving the Eucharist generally happens during Mass.  We may not always feel different from receiving the Eucharist, but we are different.  St. John Vianney said, “If we really understood the Mass we would die of joy.”  Extreme joy may not be your experience at Mass every week, every month, or even yearly.  But just because I don’t experience an emotional response doesn’t mean that the most beautiful union between God and man isn’t taking place.  
    Just because we feel comfortable in our house doesn’t mean that we are experiencing the consolation of God.  The comfort that God came to give was at a much deeper level than just physical comfort.  He came to heal our souls.  There are many ways in which we can be opposed to God and yet feel physically good.  Maybe it’s drinking too much, sleeping when we should go to Mass, or engaging in sexual activity outside of marriage.  Those things all feel physically good, and yet do not mean that God is with us our supporting us.  Also, the Lord reminded us that following Him may often include suffering of various kinds, which means that we are not made for comfort.
    Plus, while we all should have a personal relationship with the Lord, it’s not just me and Jesus.  Being baptized means that God joins us to the entire Mystical Body of Christ, the Church, and we are connected to each other.  That cannot be fully picked up simply by staying at home, even with other family members, because the Church is not just one family or even just one ethnic group or nationality.  To be Catholic means that we embrace all who want to follow Christ.
    Lastly, watching the Mass on the computer or on TV never means nor meant that we attended Mass.  One can watch the Mass as a lesser way of sanctifying the Lord’s Day, but to truly attend Mass one must be physically present.  My earlier words also apply: you cannot receive the Eucharist through livestream, and you cannot fully participate in the larger Mystical Body of Christ on your own through livestream.  If one is sick or homebound, then it helps us remember what we would want to attend if were were able.  But watching does not equal physical participation.
    We celebrate a church building today because it is a kind of sacrament.  It is a physical reality, instituted by Christ, which conveys invisible realities and causes graces that flow from the Paschal Mystery.  The physical building reminds us that we are part of something bigger than ourselves, each having a role to play to create the temple not made by hands in heaven, where all the elect are joined together, each fulfilling a role.  May we not accept the myths that we can worship God on our terms (often guided by our own laziness or preferences), but give ourselves to the worship that our Lord told us would be acceptable worship: worship in spirit and truth.  [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.] 

Fighting Our True Enemy

Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  One of the struggles in modern warfare is that the enemy doesn’t always dress like an enemy.  When the US fought against Iraq and Afghanistan, the armies of the two countries knew that they couldn’t resist the US military by fighting on equal terms, where one military fights another in open combat.  So many soldiers from Iraq and Afghanistan fought without any uniforms and without any direct ties to a military chain of command.  They would look and act like regular civilians until they were able to inflict great harm by IEDs and surprise attacks.  This frustrated the US military because we didn’t want to kill innocent civilians, and yet the military often couldn’t identify opposing forces because they often acted individually or in small groups, and looked the same as innocent civilians.

    We can often find difficulty in identifying our enemy.  St. Paul reminds us that our true enemy is not flesh and blood, but a spiritual enemy that seeks to keep us separate from the Lord.  But it can sometimes frustrate us when we don’t know how to identify a spiritual enemy, so we choose to focus on earthly enemies instead and fight them.  And yet, in fighting them, we don’t make any real progress in winning the war because we waste our spiritual ammunition on the wrong targets.
    Now, it is true that humans can often support policies and practices that give aid to our real enemy, Satan and his fallen angels.  Over the past decade individual people and groups of people have tried to redefine marriage from how God created it; have tried to say that our right to practice our faith ends at the doors of the church; have sown confusion about the ways our body helps us understand who we are as male or female; have continued the lie that an unborn child is simply part of the mother’s body; etc.  And we should work to make sure that a distorted view of the human person does not spread by engaging in clear and convincing arguments that show the lies to be harmful to individuals and society as a whole.
    But the politician on the other side of the aisle, or the neighbor who posts the nonsense signs that say “Love is love,” they are not my enemy.  They are my brother or sister in error, and I don’t have to support or enable their error, but they are not my enemy.  
    St. Augustine of Hippo wrote a beautiful reflection on those who no longer taught the same thing as the Catholic Church on baptism, and wanted to rebaptize Catholics, which is a heretical position.  The text is long, but worth hearing:
 

If they say, “Why do you seek us?  What do you want of us?” We should reply: You are our brothers.  They may say, “Leave us alone.  We have nothing to do with you.”  But we have everything to do with you, for we are one in our belief in Christ; and so we should be in one body, under one head.
And so, dear brothers, we entreat you on their behalf, in the name of the very source of our love…in the name of Christ our Lord and his gentle love.  For it is time now for us to show them great love and abundant compassion by praying to God for them.  May he one day give them a clear mind to repent and to realize that they have nothing now but the sickness of their hatred, and the stronger they think they are, the weaker they become.  We entreat you then to pray for them, for them are weak, given to the wisdom of the flesh, to fleshly and carnal things, but yet they are our brothers….And so pour out your hearts for them in prayer to God

    The Doctor of Grace doesn’t say that their error doesn’t matter.  He doesn’t pretend that false teaching is true.  But he still says that they are our brothers and encourages us to pray for them.  And he does this because he knows that they are not truly our enemy.  The enemy is the one who encourages them to believe lies to be truth.  And that enemy cannot be defeated by force of arms, but by prayer and the love and grace of God.  
    So who do you fight?  It is an earthly enemy?  If so, you’re wasting time and energy.  By all means, correct with truth, but don’t treat those who disagree as enemies, but as misinformed brothers and sisters.  And not in an arrogant way, not looking down on them.  But truly caring for them and wanting their conversion of heart so that they can live in the truth and go to heaven.
    And when it comes to those who oppose us, be ready to forgive.  I often say that forgiveness, especially of enemies, is one of the most difficult teachings of our Lord.  Because when someone harms us we want to get them back.  Or we at least want them to make good on what they owe us according to our understanding of justice.  But look at the parable: the master forgives the steward a great debt, but the steward cannot forgive small debts.  The mercy of the master should have changed the heart of the steward to likewise engage in mercy.  But when the master heard how harshly the steward treated those with smaller debts, he gave the same measure of justice to the steward, rather than the mercy the steward desired and had originally obtained.
    God has acted so mercifully with us.  He forgives us large debt, especially the debt of sin that Christ took upon Himself.  The penalty for sin is death, but Christ died so that we wouldn’t have to die.  There is no greater debt that we could ever owe.  And yet, when someone, especially someone we consider an enemy, offends us, are we as quick to forgive them as we want God to be quick to forgive us?
    Make sure you know who your real enemy is and how to fight that enemy.  The enemy wants to distract us and make us think that our brothers and sisters who are not exactly like us are our enemies.  But we will waste time and energy shadowboxing against fake enemies, and miss out on opportunities for conversion or reversion.  Fight our true spiritual enemies with prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, connecting yourself to the one who has conquered sin and death and is forever victorious: Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God for ever and ever.  Amen.  

The Catholic Sense of Death

Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed

    While we, as Catholics, are used to the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed, more commonly known as All Souls’ Day, it doesn’t often fall on a Sunday.  Sundays are little Easters, so it might seem odd to focus on those who are dead.  But Purgatory, the abode where the souls who are not ready for heaven, but have not rejected God, precisely stands as a possibility because of the Resurrection of Christ.  And Purgatory gives hope to all those who are not perfected at the time of their death, and therefore are not ready for heaven, where we see God, Holiness Himself, face to face.  
    We cannot deny the pain and sorrow of death.  When someone we love dies, we know that we won’t see that person on earth again.  And in the face of that harsh reality, tears naturally follow.  But as those who know that Jesus rose from the dead, our grief should be eased a bit by the fact that death is not the end.  That’s the power of the Resurrection of Christ: death is not the end.  That’s the power that the martyrs held as they didn’t fear to suffer for Christ, because they knew that the world threw all pain and suffering at Christ in His crucifixion, but Christ came out victorious in the end on Easter Sunday.  
    But it’s also the power that should help us who remain after someone dies, because our faith tells us that they simply have gone on a long journey to a place where we can’t stay connected through a meet-up, phone call, text, FaceTime, or Zoom, but where we can stay connected through prayer.  Just as we are somewhat sad, but still have hope when a family member or friend goes on a cruise and we can’t contact them with earthly technology, so we should have the same hope when someone we love dies, because death is not the end, but a transition to a new form of life.  
    But as Catholics we can often act like non-believers who treat death as the absolute end.  We forget our faith and the central teaching of our religion, the resurrection, and we do what St. Paul tells us not to do: weep as those who have no hope.  I’m not saying we need to celebrate every time someone dies, though some saints have reminded their family and friends that life will be better for them in heaven, since they followed Christ on earth.  Really, we should only mourn when someone was not prepared to die and did not follow Christ, though even then we commend those people to the mercy of God.  
    Purgatory also gives us hope because while we strive for perfection, if you’re anything like me, you sometimes fall short.  God is perfect holiness, and if you ever read through the Old Testament, you’ll notice that no one is really excited to see God.  It’s not because they disliked God, but because they knew, often better than we do, that the holiness of God destroys any sin, like light destroys darkness.  So to be in heaven, in the presence of God’s perfect holiness, means that we have nothing sinful left in us, otherwise we would be destroyed.  Or, if we think about God’s holiness like heat, it’s so hot that our sinfulness would immediately burst into flames.
    So if we die in a state of grace, that is, not aware of any mortal sins or any rejections of God, but we still have sin, we have the opportunity to still make it to heaven after we have been purified in Purgatory.  It’s not perfect holiness (and heaven) or hell.  We have the chance to still make it to heaven even if we have not fully configured our life to Christ.
    Having said that, Christ still calls us to put sin behind us and make His life our own while on earth.  Our goal should always be heaven.  If our goal is Purgatory, then we’re aiming too low, like a sports team that only hopes to make it to the playoffs, not win the National Championship.  Plus, we often don’t achieve the goals we set for ourselves.  If we set our goal as heaven and fall short, we do have Purgatory.  But if we set our goal as Purgatory and fall short, there’s no safety net, and our eternity could be the eternal suffering of hell.  
    What is also worth celebrating on a Sunday is that, because of the Resurrection and death is not the end, just like we can help each other while on earth to get closer to heaven, we can help those who have died and whom God purifies in Purgatory by His grace.  The souls in Purgatory are not just left to be purified until God has perfected them.  We can assist them in a variety of different ways and speed their way into heaven.  
    And this is something that we have also forgotten as Catholics.  Not only are we worse, after COVID, of even going to funerals (and I know that some employers are less willing to allow employees to attend funerals), but we especially drop the ball after the funeral.  We take on the mentality either that the person is dead and there’s nothing else we can do, or that the person has certainly made it to heaven and no longer needs our help.  Both of those approaches are antithetical to our Catholic faith.
    Because death is not the end, we can suffer for the benefit of souls in Purgatory.  Maybe it’s an illness, or pain, or just a frustrating situation, but we can offer it up, as the sisters used to say, and speed someone’s path to heaven.  During these first days of November we focus on special opportunities to gain indulgences for the souls in Purgatory, but there are numerous opportunities throughout the year to gain an indulgence, not only for our own salvation, but to help a soul in Purgatory get to heaven a bit faster.  For example, under the usual conditions, spending 30+ minutes in Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament is a plenary or full indulgence; saying the Canticle of Mary (the Magnificat) is partial indulgence; using an object of religious devotion that has been blessed by a priest is a partial indulgence; the vocal  recitation of the Rosary in a church or as a family, or a partial indulgence anywhere else; reading Sacred Scripture to grow in holiness is a partial indulgence, unless it’s 30 minutes or more, in which case it’s a plenary indulgence.  None of those require going to Rome or a Jubilee Year (though there are also indulgences attached to the Jubilee Year).  
    Lastly, Masses can be said for the soul of a person who died.  When a Mass is said for a deceased person, the merits of Jesus’ salvific work is applied to purify the soul of that person.  The practice of saying Mass for a person enjoyed popularity with older Catholics, but is important for every person.  And the cost to schedule Mass for the intention of a person is only $10.  So it’s not outside the range for even a young family with kids.  But what a powerful way to help a person in Purgatory!
    As we celebrate All Souls’ Day today, it’s good to have reminders about our faith in the Resurrection, and the effect it has upon how we mourn those who have gone before us marked with the sign of faith.  May our faith in the Resurrection of Christ not only remain in our minds and hearts, but truly affect how we live our lives as Catholics and the choices we make to assist the souls in Purgatory. 

Yes to One King

Feast of Christ the King

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As I prepared for this homily, it struck me that last weekend people across our country organized protests against President Trump under the title of No Kings.  It made me wonder what they would think of this feast day, in which we honor Christ, the King of Kings and King of the Universe (as it’s called in the Ordinary Form).  
    In the United States we do seem to have a love-hate relationship with monarchies.  On the one hand, we fought a war so that we didn’t have to be under the British monarchy (though, the monarchy in 1775 already had given some of its power to the elected Parliament).  On the other hand, tabloids would be half as big if they didn’t cover ever-lingering stories about King Charles and the late-Princess Diana, or, more recently, Prince Harry and/or Prince Edwards.  Many love the pomp and circumstance of the monarchy.  I would also hesitate a guess that many here appreciate Pope Leo bringing back some of the pomp and circumstance to the papal monarchy, at least in his clothing choices.  
    So what do we do with this feast?  Again, I would hazard a guess that most, if not all, of us love the idea of Christ the King.  During the 2024 elections, there were chants of “Christ is King” at political rallies, sometimes welcomed by those running, sometimes rejected (which is a bit troubling).  Many of the Mexican martyrs of the early 20th century died with the words ¡Viva Christo Rey! on their lips, as the Cristero Movement utilized the words as a rallying cry.
    But our Gospel reminds us that, all too often, another cry is on our lips other than ¡Viva Christo Rey!, and that is “Crucify Him!”  No, you didn’t miss it in the Gospel we heard, but in the Gospel Christ was before Pilate, with Pilate asking the Lord about His reign, as part of the mob’s request to crucify the Lord of Glory.  

    We, as Americans, demonstrate our love-hate relationship even with the Kingship of Christ.  At times we embrace Christ’s reign, especially if it coincides with what we want and our way of seeing things.  We want, at times, to be on the king’s side because we enjoy his protection and His rule.  And it doesn’t hurt to be on the winning side, as Christ will subject everything to Himself, as St. Paul says in one of his epistles.  
    But when Christ the King reminds us that His kingdom is not of this world, and that not all of our desires and not all of our plans are part of His reign, how do we treat the King?  With questions on either side about election integrity, it’s not uncommon to see or hear the phrase, “Not my president.”  Whenever we sin, we take up the phrase, referencing Christ, “Not my king.”  When we sin, we choose a new ruler.  We choose to subject ourselves to the power of darkness.  We elect a new king, one we think is more to our liking, but who is not merciful and who does not have our best interests at heart.
    We choose a king other than Christ when we lie to get out of something we would rather not do.  We choose a king other than Christ when we detract about another person who has wronged us or who seems like he or she doesn’t belong.  We choose a king other than Christ when we decide that our own will is most important, and that others, be it a spouse or a friend, has to serve our needs rather than seeking to serve their needs first.  
    Our entire life, if we are striving for holiness, means accepting the kingship of Christ, when it comes easily and when it comes not so easily.  God has claimed us for Himself through Holy Baptism, but we have to accept that dominion, while there’s still time to choose.  After we die, or after Christ returns in glory, there is no more time; our choice will have been made permanently.  But while we have life, we can still return to the Kingdom of Christ, even if we have, from time to time, strayed into foreign powers.
    So who is this king?  He is not a king as the world sees it, as the Savior tells Pilate, and His kingdom is not of this world.  He is a king who has servants, the angels, who can deliver Him from any harm at a moment’s notice.  He is a king who rules by truth, not by opinion polls or public desire.  Last week we heard how He is a king who invites people to His wedding banquet, even though many decide not to attend, but a king who will punish those who do not come to the wedding properly attired.  In Matthew, chapter 25, we hear how Christ the King will separate the nations between those who served Him in the least of His brothers and sisters, those who were hungry, thirsty, naked, ill, a stranger, and imprisoned.  We know that He is a king who, though seemingly conquered, actually conquered sin and death by His own crucifixion, and that no one can compete with His power and His reign.  
    Our King desires that we join His kingdom.  He died so that we could be part of His reign.  He is the only Victor, in the end (in terms of being triumphant).  What is our battle cry?  No Kings or ¡Viva Christo Rey¡?  May the words of the good thief, St. Dismas, be on our lips each day, and especially as we leave this world, “‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’”  Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen.