Justice and Mercy

 Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
    

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  The saints are often known for pithy quotes that make one think, or sometimes chuckle.  For example, St. Theresa of Avila is quoted as saying to the Lord, “If this is how you treat your friends, it is no wonder you have so few!”  Or St. John XXIII, who had a particularly good sense of humor, would say to God each night before he went to bed, something to the effect of “Dear Lord, it’s your Church; you take care of it.  I’m going to bed.”  Or St. Theresa of Calcutta, who said, “I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle.  I just wish that He didn’t trust me so much.”    I bet we all can or have once had the same feeling.
    St. Paul reminds us today that “God is faithful and will not let [us] be tried beyond [our] strength.”  This is a good thing to remember in our day-to-day life.  We do not have to give in to our temptations; we do not have to sin.  God gives us what the scholastics called sufficient grace, or the power of God which is required to say no to temptation.  Certainly, venial sins may pop up which are simply due to weakness of our character or pre-dispositions, but when it comes to knowingly being tempted to commit a venial or a mortal sin, we do not have to give in to the temptation and act contrary to God’s will.
    But how often do we call upon that grace?  How often do we call out to God to save us in time of temptation?  Or how often do we rebuke the temptation as having no power over us?  In our daily temptations, we can turn to the Lord, and then rebuke, mentally or verbally, that temptation as not being from God.  Sometimes out-loud is especially effective, because it gets us out of our head.  
    The other option, giving in to temptation, leads to consequences.  It’s a kind of spiritual law of physics.  Just as for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, so in the spiritual life, for every sin to which we acquiesce, there are consequences with which we might have to deal.  It is true that sometimes God can withhold that consequence, for a time or for ever, but He can also let the consequence of sin (which is death) affect us.  
    St. Paul mentions that in his epistle as well.  He mentions the fall of the twenty-three thousand as a consequence of immorality, or those who died by serpents on the way to the Promised Land.  And in our Gospel, we hear our Lord prophesying the destruction of Jerusalem, because the city did not recognize the time of its visitation.  
    We tend to look at these things as punishments.  We think that God is striking this person or that person down because of evil.  But, from other parts of the Gospel, it’s not quite that simple.  Our Lord himself, when talking about the tower that fell, or those who were killed by Pilate, argued that they were no more guilty than others.  Only God knows how, why, and when to allow the consequences of sin to catch up with a person or a group of persons.  And His patience is always for the purpose of allowing for conversion, as St. Peter says in his second epistle.  
    There’s a rather horrible contemporary hymn that was written, and which was very popular in my first assignment, called “The Canticle of the Turning.”  It’s a kind of very, very loose paraphrase of the Magnificat written to the melody of an Irish bar song (sort of the example of everything wrong with contemporary hymnody).  The refrain states, “My heart shall sing of the day you bring / Let the fires of your justice burn.”  I don’t know about you, but if I have the choice between God’s mercy and God’s justice, I will take God’s mercy every day, and twice on Sundays, as the saying goes.  
    But what we want to receive, we need to give to and desire for others.  Our Lord’s teaching on loving our enemies is one of the tougher teachings of the Gospel.  It’s easy to immediately want what we consider to be justice, for the other person to get their just desserts.  How often when I am driving do I see a car run a red light, and I opine, sometimes out-loud, that I hope that there’s a cop around to pull them over.  I can tell you it’s not so much because I’m concerned about my own safety or the safety of others that I want that person pulled over (which would be fine), but because I want that drive to be punished for breaking the rules, which I strive so hard to follow.  If we want to receive mercy, we need to show mercy.  If we want others to have Divine Justice, then we need to be prepared for it to fall upon us as well.

    There is a small chapel on the Mount of Olives, overlooking the city of Jerusalem from the west, called Dominus Flevit, which, for those whose Latin isn’t that sharp, means The Lord Wept.  It’s called that because it is the place (or at least it’s around the place) where today’s Gospel took place and the Lord wept over Jerusalem.  It’s one of my favorite chapels, because as you attend Mass, you see the present-day city of Jerusalem.  But you see it through a wrought-iron image that includes a cross and a host over a chalice.  Outside of pandemics, I would guess that chapel is used every day.  It’s a great reminder for us that the Mass is the prayer of reconciliation of Jesus to the Father, pleading for, not just Jerusalem, but the world, which should be seen through the mystery of the Eucharist.  May our hearts be moved daily to show the mercy of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

What We Offer to God

 Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    While the news has moved on to what it considers to be “juicier” stories, there was quite a bit of digital and literal ink spilled about the US bishops recently, who decided to write a document on our belief in the Eucharist.  Of course, the press focused on the political issues, especially with a baptized Catholic as president of the United States.  But the document that the bishops are drafting goes beyond Catholic politicians, and is meant to help teach us about the Eucharist.  Given that our next few weeks of readings will be focusing on the Eucharist anyway, I thought I would get a head start, and preach about the Eucharist.
    If you look at stats about how many Catholics actually believe what the Church teaches on the Eucharist, it’s pretty depressing (at least if you work for the Church).  From a survey taken in 2019 or so, I think it’s something like 33%.  That’s horribly low!  So the need is there.  I’ll try not to make this too academic, though.
    Before we get to the Eucharist in itself, we can look at what we’re giving God.  In today’s Gospel, the people are hungry, and Jesus wants to feed them.  But there’s only five loaves and two fish.  Still, God takes what the people has, miraculously multiplies it (this whole junk about sharing is trying to force a different message into this Gospel, rather than reading what the Gospel truly says), and then returns it to them.  And in our first reading, bread is brought to Elisha, who multiplies it for the people to eat.  So the people bring what they have and offer it to the Lord, who makes it enough for all who desire to eat.  
    At face value, what we offer for the Eucharist is bread and wine (aren’t you glad it’s not bread and fish??).  When we think of why we use bread and wine for the Eucharist, there is, of course, the reality that bread and wine were common items in Judea at the time of Jesus (and well before that, and well after that, as well).  Bread and wine were also already part of the sacrificial system of the Jews.  There was showbread, which was in the presence of the Lord in the inner temple.  And there were also libations, drink offerings, poured out to God.  So bread and wine were common, not only for food, but for sacrificing.
    But when we look at what we use for the Eucharist, there’s also the reality of how bread and wine are made, which also helps us understand something of why they are used for the celebration of the Mass.  Think of how bread is made.  For our Eucharistic bread, the hosts, it can only be made from flour and water.  Flour comes from wheat which is finely ground.  After baking the mixture of flour and water, we have unleavened bread.  
    Wine is made from grapes.  But you can’t just leave grapes on your counter and magically get wine (you’ll get raisins, I suppose).  You have to crush the grapes in a wine press, and let the juices ferment.  Then you get wine.
    In his 2006 homily on the Solemnity of Corpus Christi, Pope Benedict spoke about the cooperation between God and humanity that is required to get bread and wine that we use in the Eucharist.  God has to provide the fertile fields, and even the water itself in order for wheat to grow.  But then we need to grind the wheat to make the flour.  God has to provide rain and sun for the grapes to grow on the vine, but then we have to press the grapes.  So what we need for the Eucharist is a cooperation between us and God, which is the original intent of God in the Garden of Eden: God and humanity working together to sanctify the world.
    Another text called The Doctrine of the Twelve Apostles, which was written around the year 100, also says, “Even as this broken bread was scattered over the hills, and was gathered together and became one, so let Thy Church be gathered together from the ends of the earth into Thy Kingdom.”  The gathering of the different heads of grain is itself an image of the diversity of the human race coming together, and then being offered to God for Him to bless and transform it into something new.  
    But beyond the bread and wine that we offer, Jesus invites us to give all of who we are to Him, to allow Him to transform us into something new.  From the beginning, in the sacrificial system, humanity was invited to give God their all, represented by some earthly thing.  So we, as Catholics, are invited to give all of who we are, and unite it to the bread and wine offered by me on your behalf to God the Father through Christ the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit.  We are invited to give God the good and the bad.  Did you have a horrible week, where nothing went right, where you lost friends or family, where the car broke down, where it rained every day on your vacation?  Offer it to God!  Did you have a great week, where you hit every green light when you were late, when your kids and grandkids visited, where you received an unexpected compliment or word of praise?  Offer it to God.  
    God wants all of it, the good and the bad.  He wants to transform it from something simply earthly, to something heavenly, like the Eucharist.  But He will not transform what we do not give Him.  If we do not give Him our life, the daily ups and downs, then they remain simply ours; they remain earthly and limited.  But if we give him what has happened since the last time we came to Mass, He will bless it, transform it, and return it to us as something that helps us draw closer to Him and experience the heavenly life.  
    The invitation has been extended.  Today, and at every Mass you attend, offer to God whatever you have, no matter how little you think it may be.  Let God transform your daily life, as He will shortly, through my ministry, transform the bread and the wine we offer Him, into the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of our Lord Jesus Christ.

What Makes Us Catholic

 Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Due to my retreat I had tried to get ahead of the game and write my homily before I left, which I successfully did.  And then Friday the sixteenth happened.  So, back to the drawing board.
    This past Friday morning, as I was finishing up our usual Friday morning adoration, I received a text from a brother priest of mine in the Diocese who knows how to celebrate the Extraordinary Form, or whatever we’re going to call it from now on, about Traditionis custodes, the new Motu Proprio.  We spoke after the 8 a.m. Mass about the details and the law of the new document (this brother priest is also a canon lawyer).  I then called Bishop Boyea, only to be reminded by his secretary that he is on retreat this week with the bishops of Michigan and Ohio.  I then had time to read over the document myself.
    I have to admit that, even though I only started celebrating according to the Missal of St. John XXIII a couple of months ago, my heart ached at what looks like more restrictions (we’ll see what Bishop Boyea has to say when he gets back with me).  Even in this short time I have come to see the beauty and transcendence of this form of celebration.  I will say that I also think that a priest can celebrate according to the Missal of St. Paul VI beautifully and transcendently, in its own way.  We’ll have to see what future lies in store for us, though I neither want to freak you out with specious speculations, nor presume that everything will be exactly the same.
    But Pope Francis, who is our validly elected Supreme Pontiff, Vicar of Christ, and head of the Universal Church, also reminds us of important points about our Catholic faith, that I believe are worth speaking about here.

   The first is a general point about what makes us Catholic.  We are Catholics because we believe that Jesus founded His Church in a particular way, namely, upon apostolic foundations, with the successor of St. Peter as the Prince of the Apostles, and the visible sign of unity and head of the apostolic college.  Certainly I understand and sympathize (suffer with you) in feeling hurt by our Holy Father, and likely there are feelings of anger, betrayal, or others.  But to say that the pope is not the pope, or that we do not owe him religious submission of will and intellect because he has hurt us, because he has made decisions with which we do not agree, in a matter that is not de fide or part of the moral life of the Church, is not Catholic.  As your spiritual father I understand your pain, but also want to warn against a schismatic attitude that can separate you from the Body of Christ, which is the ordinary means of salvation.  We will continue to see what this new document means, but we have to do so with respect for Pope Francis, lest we endanger our immortal soul.  Does this mean that this legislation of his is the best or even simply right?  I think we can reasonably disagree in charity with this legislation.  But he is still our pope, allowed for us by Christ Himself.  And if St. Catherine of Siena can give that same respect to popes who were wrongly living in Avignon, we can give respect and pray for Pope Francis.  I certainly mention his name every time I pray the Roman Canon.  If you want to be in a parish that is schismatic, separated from visible unity with the Church, then this is not the parish for you.  We are Latin Rite, Roman Catholics, and too many martyrs died to uphold the papacy for us to reject it because of what we consider a hurtful and wrong piece of legislation.  I invite each of you to storm heaven with your prayers, and pray a Chaplet of Divine Mercy for Pope Francis.  
    Secondly, Vatican II.  The jokes about the Spirit of Vatican II being the scariest Halloween costume are funny because they contain a bit of truth.  Many people have taken Vatican II to mean a variety of things which the Council Fathers never intended nor desired.  I was born in 1983 (yes, I’m young), so I have only known a post-Vatican II world, and I have seen some of the negative effects of wrong implementation on the Church.  Many people saw Vatican II as a jettisoning of everything that had come before.  
    But Vatican II, especially in the Constitutions, and even in some of the documents which have less authority (e.g., decrees and declarations), was not a rejection of what came before, but a re-application of what came before.  Lumen gentium itself contains over 200 quotations and 92 references to Pope Pius XII.  As you look through Lumen gentium, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, there is a beautiful collection of citations from Sacred Scripture, St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, and the conciliar documents of Trent and Vatican I.  I didn’t have time to count them all, but the references to solid Catholic saints, previous holy popes, and previous councils, is impressive.  
    Further, Pope St. John XXIII, whose missal we use, declared it to be an ecumenical council, and it was confirmed and approved, in the ways ecumenical councils need to be, by Pope St. Paul VI.  So we cannot ignore Vatican II and its documents, without ignoring an ecumenical council called for and confirmed by the successor of St. Peter.  To do so would be to make the same mistake as Luther, Zwingli, Melanchthon, and other so-called reformers of rejecting what we don’t like and keeping what we do.  St. Augustine says this of the Gospel, but the same could be said for ecumenical councils, that if we accept what we like and reject what we don’t like, we do not have faith in God but in ourselves.  
    Further, while everyone likes to quote Lumen gentium, 16 which says that those who, “through no fault of their own do not know the Gospel of Christ or his Church, yet sincerely seek God and moved by grace, strive by their deeds to do his will as it is known through them through the dictates of conscience” can be saved, there is another quote, I would say that is even stronger, about the necessity of belonging to the Church.  Lumen gentium, 14 says, “Whosoever, therefore, knowing that the Catholic Church was made necessary by Christ, would refuse to enter or to remain in it, could not be saved.”  I think all here know that the Catholic Church is a necessary connection to Christ (inasmuch as our Lord Himself said that persecuting His followers was persecuting Him as He spoke to Saul on the road to Damascus).  In the same way, then, we must hold fast to the Church, even when the barque of Peter seems to be adrift and taking on water, or risk damnation, as Vatican II clearly teaches.  
    I know these are hard days.  I know that it seems like the Church may want to abandon us.  But, St. Paul tells us, that we are not called to fear, but to have courage.  And Jesus reminds us in the Gospel, to do whatever it takes to be saved, even if it means suffering greatly.  We can likely see ourselves in the boat in Mark 4 with the apostles, as the storm is pounding us, and the waves are breaking over the boat, so that it seems like it will capsize.  But our Lord is in the boat, and He will not let it sink.  Our duty, even in our pain, frustration, and betrayal, is to stay in the boat with Christ, hold fast to Him, and have faith that He will see us safely to the harbor of heaven, where God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, reign eternally, world without end.  Amen.

Judging Books and Wine

 Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  One of the early lessons we learn as a child is never judge a book by its cover.  There are many stories (some true, some invented) which seem to give credence to this maxim.  I don’t read a ton, but I can tell you that I often decide whether or not I want to pick-up a book by the cover.  There was also a story a year or so back about how wine labels have changed to try to encourage people (especially those of the female persuasion) to buy the bottle without knowing what the wine tastes like.  
    Our Lord seems to be saying that we should judge a book by its cover.  After all, good fruit equals a good tree; bad fruit equals a bad tree.  Doesn’t seem too complicated, and seems to make perfect sense.  And I’m certainly not here to contradict the words of the Son of God.

    Having said that, it’s not quite as simple as: doing bad things makes you a bad person.  Pope St. John Paul II reminded us: “We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures, we are the sum of the Father’s love for us and our real capacity to become the image of His Son, Jesus.”  Which of us hasn’t sinned?  And yet, we do not want to be defined by our sins, but by the love of God.  
    Even St. Paul today in the epistle spoke about the conversion of the Romans, how they had been slaves to sin, but they were now slaves of God.  If St. Paul would have defined the Romans by how they had acted before their conversion, he would have simply written them off as damned.  But instead he called them to new life in Christ.  So how do we understand the words that we heard in the Gospel?  
    Part of it, I believe, has to do with a reading of the other parables of our Lord, rather than this one.  In another place, Jesus talks about the weeds sown among the wheat.  He says to let the weeds go until harvest time, when they can be sorted from the wheat.  That sorting would only take place when the “fruit” of the stalk of wheat had come to fruition, when the harvest was ready.  But, at that point, you would be able to tell the good fruit from the bad fruit, the weeds from the wheat.  And perhaps this is what our Lord means when He talks about He says that we can judge a tree by its fruit: it is only at the end that it becomes apparent what the fruit is.
    Think about it in terms of your own life.  Unless you are the Blessed Mother, you have, like me, had moments in life of which you are not proud, where you wandered away from the love of God and His law.  At that moment, you and I were not bearing good fruit.  So, perhaps we should be cut down and thrown into the fire.  And yet, God did not do that.  God was patient with us, like the farmer in the Gospel parable who sees the fig tree not bearing fruit, but waits one more year to see if it bears fruit.  God is patient with us so that we can stop being slaves of the flesh, slaves of immorality, and start being not only slaves, but friends of God.  
    Does this mean that we rest on our laurels, and just coast until the end of life?  It is interesting that, no matter what times weekday Masses are celebrated, it does tend to be older people who attend.  There is a certain sobriety that comes when you realize that you have more years behind you than you have in front of you.  But that seriousness, that wisdom of being a senior, can be had by us now, and not just about going to Mass.  The danger with putting off true and deep conversion until the end is that we never know when our particular end will be.  I could die any day, and Jesus could return any day.  If I am in the habit of delaying my conversion, the change of my heart for our Lord, then I could be caught unawares, and the judgment may come to me like a thief in the night.  
    Each day we are invited to, as St. Paul says in his letter to the Philippians, “work out our salvation with fear and trembling.”  We do battle and put the old man to death, while trying to be receptive to the grace of God which makes us new men and women in Christ.  Inasmuch as we do this, we are, likely bearing good fruit, which is a good sign.  Inasmuch as I strive for holiness by the grace of God, I am pointing towards heaven.  And, making a regular habit of confession, and perhaps knowing a very short but good act of contrition in case of extreme danger, God knows that I am doing my best to stop being a slave of sin.
    But even in our attempts to follow Jesus, that sin of apathy, or we might say sloth, can creep in.  ‘I am doing what I can, and I may not be perfect, but at least I’ll get to Purgatory,’ we might say to ourselves.  As one professor in seminary told me, humans often have a way of not getting their target, so aim for heaven, in case you fall a bit short.  Don’t aim for Purgatory, because if you miss, well, you get the picture.  
    Further, our Lord reminds us that lip service is not enough.  Words are cheap, and actions speak louder than words.  Even the demons know the truth, but they reject it.  We can know the truth, but do we embrace it?  Do we strive to go by the grace of God on the narrow way to salvation, or do we figure that, because we are in the Church that Jesus founded and have received the sacraments, we don’t have to worry or respond to the gift of salvation each day?  
    “The wages of sin is death,” St. Paul tells us (in grammar that only works in Greek).  If we embrace the death of sin in this life, we know what will await us in the next.  Our fruit, at the harvest of our particular judgement, will be bad.  But if we embrace the life of our Lord each day, our fruit, at the harvest of our particular judgement, will be good, and we will enjoy eternal happiness in the kingdom of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Chosen, Not the Series

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When I was in elementary school, one of the biggest highlights of the day was recess.  At our small parochial school, St. Mary in Williamston, whether it was warm or cold, we would play soccer on the asphalt parking lot.  But, before we could play, we had to choose teams, which meant that the captains had to pick whom they wanted for their team.  Of course, the captains would always pick the best players first, and it was a great ego boost if you were picked early, rather than being picked last.
    We hear about a lot of choosing today, in all three readings.  God chooses Amos to prophesy, though Amos wasn’t really looking to be picked.  Jesus picks the Twelve Apostles, and sends them on their mission to assist Jesus in proclaiming the Gospel.  And St. Paul, in our second reading, reminds us that we have been chosen “before the foundation of the world, to be holy.”  Do you consider yourself chosen?
 

The Calling of St. Matthew by Caravaggio

   God did choose you.  He chose you, not only for life, but for holiness, and for witnessing to His life, love, and truth.  You were chosen for holiness and witness when you were baptized.  At that moment, your life was not about you, but about the mission, about showing by the way you live and what you do that you belong to God and that true happiness is not found by giving in to passing pleasures, but by restraining ourselves, dying to ourselves, so that we can live most freely for God. 
    From baptism to your confirmation, you were being prepared for the mission.  You were (hopefully) being taught the basic truths of the faith, and being schooled in virtue so that you could more easily choose the good and reject what is evil.  You may have not decided to be chosen (many were baptized as infants), but you also didn’t decide to be born; that choice was made for you.  And your parents hopefully loved you enough to decide which foods you could eat to help you grow into a healthy human being.  Again, you didn’t decide that for yourself, but your parents wanted to give you the best foundation possible in both your earthly and your spiritual life.
    When you were confirmed, you didn’t decide whether or not you were chosen.  You were already chosen in baptism, and nothing can stop you from being chosen from that point on.  Each person, after baptism, has a seal, a character, that is indelible, which cannot be washed away.  So many children are wrongly taught that confirmation is them choosing to remain Catholic.  Once a  person is baptized, that person is always a baptized Catholic, whether that person chooses to live the faith or reject the faith.  Confirmation, is where you stand before God and His Church and say that you are ready to witness that life of Jesus in your own life, and that you are ready to share with others the faith you have received.  And God sends His Holy Spirit upon you to make that witness possible.  God confirms His original choice of you and continues to give you the means by which you can respond to that choice. 
    Perhaps this is a new message for us.  Perhaps you’ve never heard this before.  But you have been chosen.  Amos was accused of choosing himself, of belonging to a prophetic guild (think of it as a club for prophets).  But, he tells the pagan priest, Amaziah that he did not volunteer, but God chose him to speak God’s word to the Israelites so that they could turn away from their sins and live for God.  Perhaps you feel like you’re not stepping forward to witness to God by your words and deeds.  But God wants you anyway to speak His Word to a world that needs to hear it.
    Perhaps you do feel chosen, but you don’t feel equipped for the mission.  You might be like the Twelve Apostles, whom Jesus chose, but then who needed some time spent with Jesus and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit before they were ready to witness to Jesus.  The Apostles weren’t the smartest people.  They came from different political backgrounds, and would compete with each other for the place of honor.  But, through spending time with Jesus, hearing His truth, and by the gift of the Holy Spirit, they were empowered to proclaim Christ by their lives and by their deaths (St. John the Apostle was the only one who was not martyred).  The same can be said for us.  If we want to live according to our Divine election, we need to spend time with Jesus, and ask Him to stir up into flame the gift of the Holy Spirit that we received at Confirmation. 
    No matter whether we feel chosen or not, St. Paul says that we are, chosen to exist for “the praise of [God’s] glory.”  As a married person, as a parent, as an employer or employee or retiree, as a priest, as a deacon, as a sister or brother, as a child, as a student, in every walk of life, we have been chosen, and our eternal salvation depends on the response to that choice.  We may witness in big ways, or we may witness in small ways, but may God encourage us as those He has chosen for His team, which, in the end, is the only team that will win.

Beginning, Continuing, and Strengthening

 Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  One of the great devotions that has grown in the Church over the past 50 or so years is the Chaplet of Divine Mercy.  Pope St. John Paul II certainly aided in its dissemination through making the Sunday in the Octave of Easter also Divine Mercy Sunday.  St. Augustine, many centuries before St. Faustina, had noted that the water and blood that poured forth from Christ’s side represented baptism and the Eucharist, respectively, which, St. Augustine said, were a symbol for the entire Church.

    Baptism is where we get our start in the Church.  I have recently had the pleasure and honor of baptizing four babies whose parents attend this Mass.  Since I arrived in Flint, I haven’t baptized four babies in two months.  And I know there are more babies on the way!  That is a great blessing for our parish and for the families!!
    But baptism, while celebrated once in a lifetime, is a sacrament that we are meant to live out each day.  St. Paul tells us that we were baptized into our Lord’s death, so that we can also rise with Him to new life.  But then he goes on to say that our old self was crucified so that our sinful body might be done away with, so that we are no longer in slavery to sin.  I don’t know about you, but my old self, my concupiscence, my desire to disobey God, which remains even after baptism, is not something that went away when I was baptized.  It is something that has to be dealt with each and every day.  It has to be crucified each and every day.
    Because while baptism is once, the fruits of baptism are meant for each day.  Each day God gives us the necessary grace to avoid mortal sin.  Each day He gives us the grace to be more and more a child of God, not only in name but in deed.  Each day God wants to deepen our participation in the life of the Church.  But we have to respond.  God does not force His grace on us.  God does not make us be His children.  God does not coerce us to participate in the life of the Church.
    So often in the Church today, the baptism is about the day itself and the celebration: in the best light in the sacramental celebration; in the worst light in the baptism party afterwards.  But then, how much effort is put forth after that day?  The responsibility that Catholic parents take upon themselves at baptism to form their children in the faith is a lifetime commitment.  The same can be said for marriage, which should always come before children.  Imagine (and I have dealt with broken marriages where this has happened) that all you cared about was the wedding day (and perhaps the wedding night), and then you stopped putting in any effort to your marriage.  You’ll probably be seeing me again, but not for a baptism, but for some counseling or worse!
    Baptism is not a get-out-of-hell-free card that we will just pull out at our judgment, any more than a marriage license means we never need to work on our relationship again.  It is the beginning of a new life, not the end of all effort to live the faith.
    But our Lord also knows that we need strength to live out that call to die daily to our selves and live for Him.  And so He gave us the Eucharist as our food for the pilgrimage to heaven.  The crowd who had been following Jesus was tired.  They needed something to continue following Him.  So He fed them with bread and fish.  So our Lord feeds us, not with fish, and not with bread, but with His own Body and Blood.  This supernatural nourishment gives us the ability to live for Christ and daily die to our old self.  The Eucharist fills us even more with necessary grace, and increases sacramental and saving grace within us.  
    But the Eucharist also gives us strength as we do those daily ascetical works that also help us live for the Lord more.  The pious practices that we do are not earning our salvation, as no one can earn it, but is showing that we want God more and our old self less.  Abstaining from meat on Fridays, or fasting, or the extra prayers that we say, or time spent in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, or the Rosary or Chaplet of Divine mercy are all meant to help us grow closer to God and remind our bodies that this earth is not all there is to live for, that our appetites do not need to rule us.  
    Our Lord invites us today to reflect on how we are living out our baptismal call, day-by-day.  Are we trying to cooperate with God’s grace to put the sinful old man to death?  Or are we living a life that is focused on Christ?  Do we work to end hate, in thought and/or word, or do we let our tongues and our passions rule us?  Do we lack custody of the eyes, heart, and body, or do we practice the virtue of chastity?  Again, we can’t do it by ourselves; that’s the error of Pelagianism.   We need God’s grace and God’s strength to be able to do anything.  But with our worthy reception of the Eucharist, all things are possible for us in Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen. 

First Weekend Message

 Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time-St. Matthew
 

   So it’s my first weekend here, my first chance to preach the Word of God to you as your new pastor.  As I looked forward to this day, I was hoping for really good readings that would talk about being a good shepherd, or encouraging the disciples, or something very uplifting.  What did I actually get for the first reading?  “Son of man, I am sending you to the Israelites, rebels who have rebelled against me; they and they ancestors have revolted against me to this very day.  Hard of face and obstinate of heart are they to whom I am sending you.”  
    Well, certainly the second reading should be better.  “Therefore, I am content with weakness, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ.”  Great
    Well, the Gospel is always good.  It’s got to have an upbeat message.  “When the sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished.  They said, ‘Where did this man get all of this?’…And they took offense at him.”  Lovely.
    But, I’m told to preach on the Word of God in the homily, so I’ll work with what I have.  I am not presuming that you are revolting against God, or hard of heart.  I certainly hope that I won’t have to put up with many insults, hardships, persecutions, or constraints.  And I hope you do not take offense at me.  
    But I can also tell you that I am not a perfect pastor.  Neither was Fr. Tom, or even, dare I say it, Fr. Taggert.  So if you were hoping for a perfect pastor who will never make any mistakes, you are in for many disappointments.  I don’t try to mess-up, but I do from time-to-time.  I will make certain judgments that you like and with which you agree, and I will make others that you hate and which you think are stupid.  That’s ok.  The key is whether or not we are being open to the Word of God, and what God is trying to do here.
    Over my (hopefully) many years here as pastor, I promise to preach the Gospel to you.  I promise to be faithful the Church’s teaching.  In fact, when Bishop Boyea installs me as pastor on 15 August at the 11 a.m. Mass, I will, for the fifth time (I believe) in my life, make a Profession of Faith and an Oath of Fidelity to all that has been revealed by God through the Church.  Sometimes you will like that.  Sometimes it may rub you the wrong way.
    Because the Word of God is meant to challenge us.  It is also meant to comfort us.  It comforts us when we are in line with what God has revealed for our happiness.  It challenges us when we are out of line with what God has revealed for our happiness.  Hearing those messages are hard.  Because I’m not perfect, my personal friends sometimes have to tell me things that I don’t really want to hear.  It’s hard; it hurts; sometimes it can even cause tears.  But with my friends, I know they love me, and so when they speak a hard word to me, I can receive it better because it is spoken in love.
    And I, as your pastor, also commit to loving you.  You are my spiritual children (though many of you are older than I).  Though I don’t know you well, I already love you, because you are the spiritual family God has entrusted to me.  And like a husband for his wife, or a wife for her husband, my goal is to help you get to heaven.  I can’t get there for you, but I can at least help you see the way.  
    But along that way, I ask for your understanding and mercy.  As I said, I will make mistakes.  I will, as the pastor of two parishes, sometimes get overwhelmed.  I have a lot to learn about how things have been done, and how things can be done here.  So please be patient with me, and give me the benefit of the doubt, as I will try to do with you.
    I will also say this, as I know it’s a fear on some of your hearts: St. Matthew will be a place where both the post-Vatican II Mass (Pope Benedict used the term Ordinary Form) and the pre-Vatican II Mass (Extraordinary Form) will be offered.  My hope is that parishioners who attend either will see themselves as one community, unified in their diversity, to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ in and around Flint, and help people to be open to the Word of God which sometimes challenges us, and sometimes comforts us.  I would love to see this parish grow and be a beacon of hope in our community.  I hope that you will join with me to accomplish this goal.  Will you do it perfectly?  No.  Will I?  No.  But we will do as best as we can, animated by the grace of God and by love of our neighbor.  I love you, and look forward to working with you and for you!

Familiarity with Jesus

 Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time-St. Pius X
    Apparently phrases that I have heard used and have used myself are now a bit dated.  I was shopping with a friend at Home Depot, and we couldn’t find everything we needed.  But he had found one of the things he needed.  So he was wondering out loud if he should buy the part at Home Depot, or put it back and hope that the next hardware shop had it.  I said, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” and he looked at me like I was speaking in a foreign language.  At the same time, a Vietnam vet was walking by and said that he hadn’t heard that phrase in a long time.  Perhaps it is a bit old.  

    We’ve probably all heard the cliché phrase, “Familiarity breeds contempt.”  And that’s what we see going on in the Gospel today.  Jesus is teaching in the synagogue in his home town, and people are shocked at the authority with which He is speaking.  And they write Him off, because he’s just a local boy, the son of Mary.  
    Now this isn’t like other local boys.  In my home town, people know what I was like before I was a priest.  I wasn’t bad, in fact, I tended to behave myself quite well, as you might have guessed.  But one could understand how the neighbors might sometimes not give a local boy his due, as they know his faults and failings.  But Jesus didn’t have faults or failings.  They couldn’t point to some scandal as the excuse why they shouldn’t listen to Him.  But still, they lacked faith, and so Jesus was not able to do many miracles there, which probably only added to the sense that He wasn’t all that special.
    In our first reading, God warns the prophet Ezekiel that, though God will send Ezekiel with a message he needs to speak, the Israelites will not listen, because their hearts are obstinate.  They do not want to hear what God has to say.  But, God does promise that they will know that a prophet has been among them, even though they won’t listen.
    I think we often have this perception that if there are holy people around us, people whom God is sending, then we will listen to them and believe.  But the entire Bible is proof that, more often than not, people do not listen to God’s messengers.  They find some excuse not to listen.  It could be that they are too close to the messenger, or that their hearts are stubborn and hard, or that it’s not the message that they think God wants to send to them.  And so they close their ears and hearts to the Word of God, which is actually what will bring lasting happiness.  
    We can sometimes do this when we read the Bible.  We read the parts that we like, that are what we want to hear, but then we reject the parts that are hard, or that we don’t think sound right.  We all love hearing that God loves us.  We love hearing about Jesus forgiving the woman caught in adultery, or healing the lepers, or curing the man born blind.  But then when we get to the part about only marrying once or else a person commits adultery; or the part about turning away from sin and being faithful to the Gospel; or the part where Jesus says the way is narrow that leads to salvation, and few find it; or the part where Jesus establishes His Church with the apostles exercising authority over it, we do all sorts of mental gymnastics to excuse why we don’t have to listen to that part or why it doesn’t mean what it clearly says.  St. Augustine once wrote, “If you believe what you like in the Gospel, and reject what you don’t like, it is not the Gospel you believe in, but yourself.”  And faith in self does not lead to salvation or heaven.
    Even more than we do it in the Bible, we do it with the way God continues to speak authoritatively in His Church.  We like it when Pope Francis talks about loving, caring for the poor, and not judging, but when he talks about marriage being only between one man and one woman for life, or that the diaconate, priesthood, and episcopate are reserved for men, we write him off.  The same could be said when the Church teaches about how artificial contraception is wrong, or that people are the gender that they are born with, or that abortion is wrong and we should not support those who support abortion.  We decide that we know better than the Mystical Body of Christ.  And yet, the Church, when speaking on faith or morals, does speak with the voice and the authority of God, since Jesus Himself said to His Apostles, “‘He who hears you, hears me.  And he who rejects you, rejects me, and he who rejects me rejects Him who sent me.’”
    Does this mean that we should not be familiar with Jesus, because we’ll hold Him in contempt?  I would suggest the opposite.  The more we draw closer to Jesus, the more we hear God speaking through Him, and the more that we come to love His word, even when it’s difficult.  As we come to know Jesus better, we understand the wisdom that He shares with us, even when it goes against our culture or our mindset.  Be open to the word that God speaks through His Word and His Church.  Do not rebel against God’s prophets!