When Do We Receive?

 Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  So here we are, at the last of the five precepts of the Church: You shall receive the sacrament of the Eucharist at least during the Easter season.  This precept coincides in a tangential way to our readings about the glory of the new covenant, and about our eyes being blessed to see Christ in the Eucharist, as many of the patriarchs longed to see Christ.  But, there has also been a lot of talk about receiving the Eucharist, who should, who shouldn’t, etc.  So a timely message, too.

    For most Catholics today in the US, the idea of receiving the Eucharist at once seems outdated, a holdover from previous centuries when people would attend Mass, but not receive the Eucharist.  In some countries, though (Mexico comes to mind), it is still very rare to receive the Eucharist regularly at Mass.  Why this hesitation?  Traditionally, there has been an emphasis on a worthy reception of Holy Communion, and many have not deemed themselves worthy (rightly or wrongly).  Pope St. Pius X labored tirelessly to promote frequent reception of Holy Communion (as long as one was not aware of any mortal sins).  Pope Francis has also spoken about Holy Communion not being the prize of the perfect, but the medicine for the sick.  Properly understood, both popes are right.  Receiving Holy Communion is not something that we do only after we have achieved the heights of sanctity.  It is what helps to make sanctity possible.
    At the same time, receiving Holy Communion presumes that we are in union with Christ and His Church.  The word communion means union with.  So when we receive the Eucharist, we are seeking to have union with Christ and His Mystical Body.  To maintain Eucharistic integrity, the Church does also teach that those who are in mortal sin should not receive the Eucharist, nor should those who are persistently living in a public way contrary to the teachings of Christ (the phrase is grave and manifest sin) be given Holy Communion.  

Bishop Vincke

    Some see this as treating the Eucharist as a prize.  But Bishop Vincke, formerly a priest of our diocese, put it well when he wrote in his diocesan publication:
 

Imagine a woman whose husband goes to strip clubs and repeatedly sleeps with many other women, and she knows about it.  The husband comes home and wants to have dinner with his wife, acting as though nothing was wrong.  He is indifferent to the many ways he has hurt and wounded her. […] Let’s take this a step further.  The cheating husband now wants to be intimate with his wife.  Again, he shows no remorse for the ways he has hurt her.  At the very least, shouldn’t the husband first apologize to his wife?  Shouldn’t he take ownership of what he has failed to do and tell her he is sorry?

Telling those who have “cheated” on the Lord by seriously damaging their relationship to Him that they cannot receive is not treating the Eucharist as a prize, but treating it as it is: the act of greatest intimacy between a person and Christ that can be achieved in heaven.  Intimacy is only appropriate when the love that the intimacy reflects is accurate.  So, no matter how powerful, influential, or public a person is; or how weak, unknown, and private a person is; no one who has been unfaithful to Christ in a major way should receive or be given Holy Communion, unless repentance has first taken place.  
    But it might not simply be mortal sin which keeps  a person from receiving on a particular day.  A person may find himself or herself so distracted that they have missed the readings, the homily, and the prayers, and do not feel adequately prepared to receive.  Or, a person may have arrived at Mass later than the Gospel, and so should not receive (because that person hasn’t joined in the first major part of the Mass, the Mass of the Catechumens (now often called the Liturgy of the Word).  This does not mean that parents of babies and toddlers can never receive (caring for them is part of your vocation, even if you’re not getting every word from the readings or the homilies, or kneeling during the Canon).  This also does not mean that, if you leave on time to arrive for Mass but get stuck by a train or an accident of another car, that you cannot receive.  But, all things being equal, if we are not mostly attuned to what is going on, drawing strength from the preaching of the Word and uniting ourselves interiorly to the offering of the priest, then perhaps we do not partake for that day.  Or, perhaps we forgot to fast for one hour before receiving Holy Communion, so we are not prepared in that way.  There are other reasons, other than mortal sin, why a person might not receive.  That is a decision between the person and his or her conscience (with some authority given to the priest, as well), which should not be presumed by others.
    I know that it is tough not to receive at Mass.  Others may look at us and wonder why we’re not going up in line (the Italians, I believe, have it right; they just go up whenever they’re ready, not always pew by pew).  People may presume that we have done something horribly wrong.  But frankly, that’s none of their business.  It would be better to be wrongly judged by others, than to commit a sacrilege by receiving in the state of mortal sin.  And, of course, we try to offer confession regularly enough so that you have a chance to go each week, whether at scheduled times, or, if those times don’t work, you can always schedule time with me throughout the week.  But, as you’re saying with me, Domine, non sum dignus, take a chance to decide: Am I ready to receive Holy Communion today?  Or do I need to abstain, for whatever reason?
    Because the reception of Holy Communion should also not be just a routine that we don’t consider.  This is the moment of greatest union with Christ on earth.  It should be done with the greatest of intentionality of wanting to be united with Christ and thanking Him for His sacrifice which made this union possible.  Yes, receiving the Eucharist is the greatest way to participate in Mass, and the summit of what the Mass is for.  Therefore, it’s not to be done as if we were standing in the check-out line at Meijer’s, waiting for our turn at the counter.
    The Church commands us to receive Holy Communion at least once per year, in the Easter Season.  As Pope St. Pius X and Pope Francis encouraged, if we are prepared, we should receive Holy Communion regularly, frequently even.  Receiving Christ into us strengthens us to be able to live as the disciples and saints God calls us to be, and without that great gift, holiness is so much more difficult.  Avail yourself of this treasure from heaven when you can.  Receive the Body of Jesus Christ, His perfect sacrificial offering to the Father in the power of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Entering the Paschal Mystery (Precept #1)

 Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Part of my hope is that, as you listen to the Scriptures being proclaimed over these weeks where I’m preaching on the Precepts of the Church, you’re trying to guess, as you hear the different readings, which precept I’m going to talk about, or how I’m going to talk about a precept based upon these readings.
    This week is precept number one: You shall attend Mass on Sundays and on holy days of obligation and rest from servile labor.  I especially want to focus on why the Church would tell us that we need to attend Mass.  

    What is the Mass?  We often think of the Mass as the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross, presented for us in an unbloody manner (and that is certainly true).  But it is not only Good Friday that is made present for us each time the Mass is celebrated.  When we participate in the Mass, we are participating in the entire Paschal Mystery, that is to say, the Passion, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus Christ.  And that is what St. Paul proclaimed in the epistle today: “Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures; …he was buried; …he was raised on the third day…”. What St. Paul proclaims to us is precisely that in which we participate.
    Notice that it’s not simply a memorial, either.  I didn’t say that we remember the Paschal Mystery; we participate in it.  It’s not a bad thing to remember.  We have lots of memories that connect us to the past, whether our own, our families, or even the members of our Church.  But we do more than remember: we enter into the very mysteries that we also recall.  Sundays are our days as Christians because it is the day that our Lord rose from the dead.  So on those days we enter into all that proceeded the Resurrection (the Passion and Death), and the consummation of the Resurrection (the Ascension into heaven) as our primordial day of celebration, the day that we assemble as a community of faith to give thanks to God for what He did for us, saving us from sin and death and allowing us to be able to enter into heaven.  On the holy days, we honor other special parts of our Lord’s life, or parts of our Lady’s life, or All Saints.  
    And while we can remember the Paschal Mystery, or we can remember our Blessed Mother, St. Joseph, or All Saints from the comfort of our living room couch, or by a lake, or another outdoor setting, we cannot enter into that Paschal Mystery in any of those places without the Mass because the Mass connects us to an historical and eternal event, which is something we cannot do on our own, but must be gifted us from God.  Going to Mass is not so much that we go to God (though it’s important that we do), but that God comes to us and allows us to participate, even in a limited way, in His eternity, and in the eternal offering of our Lord to the Father in the power of the Holy Spirit.  That is why not even watching Mass on TV or on the Internet is the same as going to Mass (though it could be a good second option if we are sick or otherwise unable to attend Mass through no fault of our own).  
    In the Mass, we also have a chance to be healed in a way that doesn’t happen anywhere else.  In our Gospel, we heard about Christ healing the man who was deaf and mute.  Other than the Sacrament of Penance (which should be a regular part of our life as Catholics anyway), the Mass is the ordinary place where our venial sins are forgiven.  Our lack of hearing the Gospel (like deafness) or our failure to proclaim the Gospel by word and deed (like the speech impediment) can be forgiven and we can be restored to the fullness of the relationship that God wants for us.  When we receive the Eucharist, our venial sins are forgiven (as long as we don’t have any mortal sins), as the culmination of those times of asking for the Lord’s mercy.  At the very beginning of Mass, I, as well as the servers, who represent you, confess that we have sinned through our own fault, and ask God to be merciful to us sinners.  And throughout the Mass we continue to approach God, recognizing that we are sinners, even right before the reception of Holy Communion, we we acknowledged, “Domine, non sum dignus,” “Lord, I am not worthy…”. But God makes us worthy and unites us to Himself through the Eucharist.
    Again, this aspect of forgiveness is not something that we can receive sitting by ourselves, no matter how comfortable or how beautiful it may be.  Only when we come together, as God’s holy people, and receive the Bread of Life, the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of the Son of God, do we have that level of access to the mercy of God.  Yes, God can forgive our sins outside of Mass, or even outside of the Sacrament of Penance.  But He certainly forgives our venial sins in the Mass, and all our sins in the Sacrament of Penance.  

    God wants His grace in us to be effective, and so He gives us a sure way that we can approach Him, be strengthened by Him, and enter into the very realities–the mysteries we call them–that save us.  What a beautiful gift to us, a gift that we should want to have access to each and every week.  But, for those times where we need a little extra encouragement, Holy Mother Church reminds us in the first precept, that we are to attend Mass each Sunday and holy day, so that we can participate in the Paschal Mystery, and be healed from our deafness and muted voice.  May God help us always to hear His voice, and proclaim what God has done for us: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

What Heaven Requires

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

    There are definitely a few extended family members of mine that think, quite incorrectly, that just because I am a priest and they are related to me, they will automatically go to heaven.  Sometimes people joke about that, but I’m pretty sure some of my extended family members are quite serious.
    There are also probably large amounts of people who think that, as long as you’re not Hitler or Stalin, then you can go to heaven, too.  We presume Hell is only for those who are the worst of the worst, and that you have to do something horribly evil even to be considered for Hell.  In contrast to that, Jesus says in today’s Gospel that “many…will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough” to go through the narrow gate.  It’s not even enough to have dined with Jesus and listen to His teaching.  There is something more that is required. 
    We honestly don’t know much about what exactly it will take for us to go to heaven.  Jesus didn’t give us a list to check off or leave blank, and if we get everything done, and don’t do any of the things on the naughty list, then we’ll get in.  We do know that the ordinary way of preparing to go to heaven is through baptism.  But even that is simply a beginning to our salvation, not the end.  We also know that part of our judgment is how we treated Jesus by the way we treated the least of His brothers and sisters (see Matthew 25, and the parable about the Rich Man and Lazarus).  But even in those accounts, there is surprise: surprise by those who cared for Jesus when He was in need; surprise by those who didn’t care for Jesus when He was is need; surprise by the Rich Man who enjoyed a pleasant life on earth, but then ended up in Hell. 
    I think part of our issue is that we often view heaven like becoming an Eagle Scout: if I get all the right merit badges by the time I die, then God has to give me the reward.  Instead, I believe the Lord, in today’s Gospel, is inviting us to view our path to heaven in a similar way to a marriage.
    After all, a good, happy, and holy marriage is not about doing this and not doing that.  Certainly there are things you should do, and things you shouldn’t do.  Do remember your anniversary and your spouse’s birthday; don’t have an affair.  Do things that your spouse will appreciate; don’t verbally or physically abuse your spouse.  Do things that make your spouse’s life easier and more enjoyable; don’t treat your spouse like you would treat a maid or butler.  And the list goes on. 
    But, the loving husband (the image that comes easiest to me as a guy; but ladies, just flip it around for yourselves as a loving wife) isn’t checking-off the boxes of things that need to be done.  He anticipates his beloved’s needs and wants, and does his best to fulfill them.  He prioritizes his wife above everything other than God, and shows that priority by the way he works, the way he takes time off, the words he says to her, the things he does for her, the way he loves their children, etc.  The couple who has been happily married for 50 years didn’t get there by only having a great wedding and celebration, or only doing the things that were the bare minimum for the relationship.  The happily married couple was always looking for new ways to grow in their love for each other and express it in word and deed.
    Is that how we view our relationship with God?  Because heaven is simply being with God forever, and God will not force us to be with Him if we don’t want to be.  If we’re not in love with God, then we may find the teaching that skipping Mass without a good reason (and no, sports is not a good reason) could lead you to Hell very difficult.  But if we love God, we work the rest of our day, even our recreation, around Him, because we want to spend time with Him.  If we’re not in love with God, then following the Church’s teaching to not use artificial contraception is going to seem “out of touch.”  But if we love God, we see that the sexual act has a meaning given to it by God, and when we go against that meaning, we do not express love in the way God wants us to express it. 
    The key that Jesus gives us today, it seems to me, on how to get to heaven is precisely about if we showed our love for Him by following Him.  It wasn’t simply about being the Chosen People; people “from the east and the west and from the north and the south” would be entering the kingdom of God because they fell in love with God and made Him the most important part of their life.  I think Jesus would say to us that it’s not simply about being a baptized Catholic, or going through the motions of what our faith requires (hearing the teachings of Jesus, getting the right sacraments, and making sure to avoid the big sins).  It’s about being in love with Him and letting that love be manifest by the choices we make in our home, in our office, in our recreation, in our voting, and in every aspect of our life.  Listen to the words of the Letter to the Hebrews: “Make straight paths for your feet.”  Set out for heaven, not as a task to be accomplished with certain actions to be avoided, but as the final destination of a heart transformed by the love of God which seeks to grow ever more deeply in love with the One who first loved us.

Going Through Difficult Times with St. Pius X

Solemnity of St. Pius X
    We certainly live in tumultuous times, both locally, nationally, and internationally.  As a parish, we continue to seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit so that we can best serve the mission we have to proclaim the Gospel, whether as a part of this parish, or if this branch should be pruned to allow the rest of the vine to produce more fruit.  Our nation continues to see unrest, political intrigue, and scarcity of some supplies.  Wars and threats of war exist around our globe.  Even our beloved Catholic Church seems to be afflicted with confusion and antagonism.  With so many things changing, we look for a stabilizing factor to keep us on the right path.

    Pope St. Pius X reigned through his own tumultuous times.  His baptismal name was Giuseppe Sarto.  He came from a poor family, but his family valued education, so he walked 3.7 miles to school each day (though likely not uphill both ways).  He was the second born of ten children, one of whom died after six days, one of whom died after six months.  His election as pope came after Jan Cardinal Kosielsko of Poland, in the name of Emperor Franz Josef I, vetoed the election of Mariano Cardinal Rampolla as pope.  While the veto was rejected, Cardinal Rampolla lost enough support to continue voting on who would be pope.  Cardinal Sarto thought death a better fate than being elected pope, but that fate would be his.  He was elected pope on 4 August 1903, and took the name Pius X, both out of admiration for recent popes who also chose the name Pius, and stating, “As I shall suffer, I shall take the name of those Popes who also suffered.”  He had as his motto: Instaurare Omnia in Christo; To Renew All Things in Christ.
    During Pius X’s reign, Communism was gaining strength in Russia.  There was a Mexican Civil War.  And World War I broke out two months before Pius X’s death.  There were theological controversies running rampant, leading to Pope Pius X requiring all priests to take an Oath against Modernity, Modernity being the name Pius X gave to the recent group of heresies that was springing up.  The world and the Church seemed to be in turmoil, much like our own days.
    What kept Pope St. Pius X grounded was the Eucharist.  He had a great devotion to the Eucharist, and encouraged children to receive the Eucharist at the age of reason (around 7), rather than the previous age of twelve.  He wanted people, as long as they were not aware of grave sins, to receive the strength to live the Catholic life from the Body and Blood of Christ, because Pius X knew that without Christ, we can do nothing as disciples, and if we wish to remain strong, we must stay with Christ, even as the waves broke all around the barque or ship of Peter. 
    As we, as a parish, go through this ten month study of the current financial and demographic reality of our parish, to help us discern where our trajectory is as a parish; as our government seems to work more and more for the benefit of those who have power and wealth; as people within our country seem to war against each other, and wars and attacks between nations seem to grow with each passing month; as so many Catholics abandon the faith that raised them, or reject the timeless and infallible teachings of faith and morals that have defined Catholic identity; we, took, might wonder what we are to do to be strong and have a firm base.  That strength and that firm base come from where it always has and always will: Jesus.
    If we wish to be strong, if we wish to weather these storms around us, we, too, need to be close to Jesus in the Eucharist, as Pope St. Pius X recommended over a century ago.  For it is only when we are connected to Jesus that our faith can survive.  Our love for Jesus is shown in a primary way by asking Him for forgiveness when we have strayed from the way of life that we are called to live by Christ, and then, having been forgiven, receiving in a state of grace the flesh that gives life to those who receive it, the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.  The Eucharist is the nourishment that feeds our soul, that strengthens the muscles of our faith, that provides the fuel to keep us walking on the pilgrimage home to heaven.

    But receiving the Eucharist is not meant to be the end of staying close to Christ, but the catalyst to then sharing that strength and firm base that we have in Jesus.  Jesus asked Peter today if Peter loved Him.  When Peter said that he did, Jesus gave Peter a mission.  When Giuseppe Sarto was elected pope, Jesus asked Giuseppe to practice that love by shepherding the entire Church of Christ.  Each time we receive Jesus as an act of love, Jesus gives us a mission to share that grace and love with others.  We, as sheep of the Lord’s flock, are to find the lost sheep and invite them back to the fold, so that they may recognize the voice of the Good Shepherd and find the pastures of eternal life. 
    That may seem difficult.  It may seem hopeless and futile.  Amid so many concerns, why still remain faithful to our Church?  Why spread that good news to others?  Because the storms will pass, the tumult will subside, and Christ will be the One who remains.  Will we stay connected to Him, especially through the worthy reception of the Eucharist, and so outlast whatever trials and tribulations come our way?  Pope St. Pius X, help us to stay faithful to Christ so that all things may be renewed by Him; Pope St. Pius X, pray for us!

Fasting and Abstinence (Precept #4)

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  So, continuing our walk through the Precepts of the Church, I will admit that today’s Gospel could easily have also dealt with our necessity to confess at least once per year.  But I chose that precept last week.  So, since the Gospel spoke about the Pharisee talking about his fasting and his pious works, let’s focus on Precept number 4: You shall observe the days of fasting and abstinence established by the Church.  A bit of a stretch?  Yes, but just go with it for our purposes.

    It may seem odd to focus on this, since our Lord says that the Pharisee who bragged to God about his fasting was not the one who went home justified.  So, one might think that we shouldn’t focus on fasting.  But the problem wasn’t the fasting.  The problem was that he thought it made him better than the others, a sign of spiritual pride.
    Fasting, St. Thomas Aquinas states, has a threefold purpose: to control lust, to allow the mind to go more towards heavenly things, and to make satisfaction for sins.  It also gives us solidarity with the poor, who go without food, not by choice, but by their lack of due resources.  We can fast from food, but also from other goods, like the internet, social media, television, music, etc.  Fasting from food is required two days out of the year: Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.  On those days, according to current norms, one is to eat one normal size meal, and two meals which, when added together equal or are less than the one normal meal.  Of course, one can always eat less.
    Abstinence, in the way the precept of the Church speaks, concerns not eating meat.  Included in the understanding of meat is the meat of mammals and poultry.  Not included is fish and reptiles.  Of course, there are exceptions.  The Archdiocese of Detroit still holds on to an old dispensation that allows the eating of muskrat on Fridays (muskrat stew instead of fried fish).  Beavers and capybaras are also fair game on Fridays.  

Muskrat

    The Church still holds that every Friday is a day of penance, and that one can observe it by abstaining from meat.  However, in 1966, the US Bishops removed the penalty of sin from eating meat on Friday, and allowed for other penances, other than abstinence from meat, though they did still place abstinence from meat in first place.  But Fridays are still days of penance, and, when possible, abstaining from meat is a great way of observing the penitential days.
    Of course, some would say that fish can be rather luxurious, and not help us keep solidarity with the poor.  Or some enjoy seafood, and so would find it odd to give up meat to enjoy a nice lobster tail.  But, as I started to give up meat on Fridays, what I noticed is that, it wasn’t so much about what I was eating, but training my will by what I couldn’t eat.  Given my fallen humanity, a juicy steak never seems so appealing as on a Friday.  But I’m reminding my body that just because it has a desire does not mean I have to give in to that desire, which of course helps us beyond simply the food we eat.  
    But it’s also not just the action; the intent is also key.  Do we abstain in order to unite our suffering (or at least the pain of saying no to our fallen will) to Christ on the cross?  Do we utilize these days of penance as ways that we express sorrow for the sins we have committed?  Or, is it self-justification–trying to save ourselves by our good works–an approach, St. Paul reminds us, does not work.  Fasting and abstinence are, at face value, about what we eat or don’t eat.  But the deeper level is meant to draw us closer to Christ who sacrificed His sacred flesh for us on the cross, which is why we abstain on Fridays.  
    Fasting and abstinence is also meant to move our mind to heavenly things.  Look at the Gospel again: the Pharisee did not have his mind on heaven.  He was so focused on what he was doing, that he wasn’t even really praying, which presumes desiring union with God, rather than focusing on the self.  The tax collector, who maybe didn’t fast as much, recognized he was in need of forgiveness because he had sinned, but did not seek justification from his own deeds, but from God, and so went home justified.  So for us who fast, we still need to remember that we fast because we need to refocus on God, and we need mercy for our sins.  As much as our fasting leads us to God, it is good.  When it leads to spiritual pride, it has become an obstacle to growth in holiness and should be restarted with a different mind-set.  
    Lastly, fasting and abstinence are not absolutes.  When we choose to fast or abstain, we should do so in recognition of the goodness of the body, however fallen.  Fasting is not dieting, but some people use fasting and/or abstaining to drop a few pounds.  But we need to make sure that our body is getting sufficient nutrients for our needs.  For that reason, especially those with diabetes, hypoglycemia, and even pregnant women should use their reason when deciding how much to fast and/or abstain.  We don’t want to slide into a Manichaean mentality which treats the body as evil.
    One good way to make sure that we don’t is to properly celebrate on days of rejoicing.  Solemnities (which include, but are not limited to, every Sunday and holy day), should not be days of fasting, without consulting a spiritual director.  In fact, when a solemnity falls on a Friday, it is no longer a day of abstinence; you can have meat.  Those are the days that we especially remember the joy of the Incarnation and Resurrection, or special saints like the Blessed Mother, St. Joseph, St. John the Baptist, to name a few.  While we do fast because the Bridegroom is not here in the same way He was during His earthly ministry, we also rejoice because of what He has done for us, and how that has been lived out by members of the Church who are now in heaven.  We should also allow for those times when we are visiting friends who don’t observe Friday as a day of penance, and eat what they set before us, even if it includes meat.
    Fasting, abstinence, and all ascetical practices help to train our bodies and wills to choose Christ, rather than always choosing what we immediately want.  May the uniting of our sacrificial practices help to heal us of our sins, and raise our minds to heaven, where Christ is seated at the right hand of the Father, with the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.

Saints Among Us

 Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
 

   There’s a beautiful song by the band “Alabama” called “Angels Among Us.”  The song talks about the presence of “angels” at different times in the singer’s life, those who “guide us with the light of love.”  It’s a touching image and song, and mentions people who help out, who are like angels, assisting us in our various times of need.
    But the “angels” among us are not simply kind and loving humans on earth.  As the author of the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us, “we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses.”  We often forget these witnesses, because we don’t see them.  But if we truly believe that death is not the end, that it is simply a transition to a new state that, temporarily, does not include the body (except for the Blessed Virgin Mary, whose Assumption we celebrate on Monday), then we should remember that the saints are among us, urging us to “persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith.”  
    Do you have a relationship with the saints?  Do you turn to them each week or each day for help in being a saint yourself?  Or do we turn to saints like St. Anthony only when we have lost our car keys, or on All Saints’ Day in November?  

    Our devotion to saints (but not worship of them) is part of the beauty of our apostolic faith.  We Catholics and the Orthodox are really the two churches that foster great devotion to these heroes and heroines of the faith who have gone before us (some Protestants honor the Biblical saints, but not many or any beyond that).  We, instead, have saints of all kinds from all times.  Yes, we honor the apostles, but we also honor St. Monica, whose tears won her family’s conversion.  We venerate children saints like Maria Goretti, and saints like St. Anthony of the Desert who lived for a hundred years.  There are married saints and celibate saints, monks, nuns, brothers, and sisters.  We have saints who were kings and queens, and saints who gave up everything to serve lepers.  There are saints from every continent.  Some like Dominic and Elizabeth have very common names.  Others like Cundegunde and Polycarp have names that never seem to be in the top one hundred when considering a name for your newborn child.  There are saints who are patrons for just about anything.  Some were holy all their life; others had major conversions.  There’s even a blessed, Bl. Anthony Neyrot, from the 1400s, who was captured as a Dominican friar by Muslim pirates, renounced his faith in Christ after some years in slavery, but then had a vision of his Dominican mentor, St. Antoninus, who had died, and reverted to the Catholic faith, which led to his martyrdom by the muslims among whom he lived.  So there are saints for everyone and every situation.
    There’s a book I have called “Drinking With the Saints,” which provides drink ideas for some of the major or minor saints of our faith.  I’m not encouraging getting drunk, but it’s a great way to learn something about the saints throughout the year, and maybe enjoy a new (or familiar) adult beverage at the same time.
    Our relationship with the saints is one of the great ways that we can persevere in doing our best to live holy lives.  Just last week, I felt a bit overwhelmed by all the things I had to do (I often use the example from the old “Ed Sullivan Show” where a man puts plates on poles and starts them spinning, and then has to run around the stage to keep them spinning so that they don’t fall and break).  So I leaned on two of my best friends to commiserate and to bolster me to keep going.  The saints help us to do the same thing and we should turn to them in any joy or struggle.  The saints can understand the pain we’re going through, but they can also show us how to persevere, no matter what is happening in our life.  And they can be great voices before the throne of God, telling our loving God to ease up a bit when times are tough, or to pour it on when there’s something worth celebrating.  
    Jesus reminds us today that following Him is not always easy.  Following Christ doesn’t always bring peace, but sometimes brings great interior turmoil as the grace of God strengthens us to put the old man to death and live for the new man, Jesus Christ.  It sometimes even causes families to be divided.  The saints are urging us on, like a cross country coach meeting us at different points along the course, or a boxing coach standing in our corner, patching up our cuts and making sure we get re-hydrated.  
    Don’t just stay at a surface level relationship with the saints, where we ask St. Anthony to find things for us, or we put up a statue of St. Francis because we like pets.  Get to know the saints more deeply.  Read about their lives.  Talk to them each week or even each day.  Because there are not only angels, but saints among us “to show us how to live, to teach us how to give, to guide us with the light of love.”

Cleaning Up and Encountering the Mercy of the Beloved (Precept #2)

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I’m sure most of us can relate to this scenario at one point in our life: mom and/or dad tell you that company is coming over, and that you need to clean up the common areas of the house (like the bathrooms, kitchen, living room, etc.).  As a kid, the thought came to my mind (and I may have vocalized this once or twice), “Why do we have to clean up?  If they’re such good friends, don’t they want to see the way we usually live, rather than faking it by pretending that our house is always this clean?”  I’m sure many of you have thought that as a child, or have heard a similar line of questioning from the kids who don’t want to clean up.

    The Precept of the Church that I’m focusing on this week is the second: “You shall confess your sins at least once a year.”  In my mind, anyway, this connects back to the Gospel we heard today, about our Lord cleansing the temple.  Christ wants the temple to be a place of prayer, though it had been made into a marketplace, or, to use His words, “‘a den of thieves.’”  But of course, beyond the obvious meaning of the building, we, too, as St. Paul says, are temples of the Holy Spirit, and Christ wants us to be people of prayer, rather than sullied by our sins.
    Confession allows us to “clean the temple,” as it were, by having Christ cleanse us of our sins and restore us to the state of our soul at holy baptism.  It invites Christ in so that all those fallen aspects of our life can be cast out. 
    But, we may say, doesn’t God already know who I am, and how I struggle?  Doesn’t He know my sins?  Why should I go, especially if, despite my best intentions, I may fall back into the same sins over and over again? 
    We clean our temples for God (and our homes for guests) because we want to give our best.  We clean our house for guests because we value their presence, and show that value by cleaning up the areas in which they might be (despite how horrible it is to mop, clean windows, vacuum, etc.).  We clean our temple for God because we value His presence, and want Him to feel “at home” in our souls.  Sin, especially serious sin, is contrary to who God is.  So we clean up so that He knows how much we want Him to be with us, and that we want Him to pray with us in our souls.  But, in this case, it’s really God who does the cleaning, as we cannot eliminate our sins by ourselves. 
    But even deeper than the metaphor of cleaning, confession is a chance to come into the presence of God, and experience His love.  God hates sin, but He does not hate us.  He does not want anything to stand between us and Him, and so He gives us the remedy for the sickness which we take upon ourselves when we choose to disobey Him.  Confession allows God’s mercy to wash over us and heal all those wounds that we inflicted. 
    How can that happen?  First, we must be sorry.  What the Church requires is that we have at least imperfect contrition, or as it was called in seminary, attrition.  This is the knowledge that we have messed up, and the sorrow for doing so, based upon the fact that we know it’s wrong, or we know we shouldn’t want to do the sin, or that we don’t want to go to Hell.  The fact that all that is required is attrition is itself a mercy, as what we should have is perfect contrition, or the sorrow for having sinned, not because of “the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offend thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love.” 
    Or, to put it in the context of a marital covenant (which God does all the time in the Scriptures), when we sin we cheat on God; we are unfaithful to Him.  Attrition is the sorrow we have because we got caught in adultery.  Contrition, perfect contrition, is the sorrow we have because we know, or have some sense, of how much it hurt our spouse and the damage it did to the marital relationship. 
    Beyond being sorry, even imperfectly, we also need to have a firm amendment not to sin again.  We might wonder why we should go, if we think we’re going to sin again in this particular way.  I often put it this way: we hope that we won’t sin in that way again, even if that seems unlikely.  But, if we would be open to the grace God gives, then we would not want to sin again in that way.  And we should have confidence in God’s mercy, that it can at least start us down the path of not falling into that sin again. 
    We also need to confess actual sins.  The Church requires that we confess all mortal sins in number and kind.  This doesn’t mean you have to give the priest all the gory details.  But it does mean that you are honest.  God is our Divine Physician, but He does’t force His medicine upon us, so if we don’t tell Him the pain, He will not force His healing on us.  So we confess every mortal sin, which is a sin that is gravely wrong, we know it’s bad, but we freely choose it anyway.  Grave sins are the most serious: taking God’s name in vain; skipping Mass without a legitimate reason; killing an innocent person; committing adultery, fornication, or self-gratification; stealing something of significance (which may vary with age and financial means); lying in a serious case (like to a police office or in court), pornography and/or staring at a person for an extended time with lust; etc.  We also have to know that the sin is wrong, and then we have to freely choose to do it.  Addictions can sometimes lessen the freedom that we have to do an action. 
    And, no matter how strongly we do a venial sin, it doesn’t change it to a mortal sin.  We still shouldn’t sin venially, but if the sin is not serious matter, it cannot be mortal.  We do not need to confess all venial sins, as those are forgiven in entirety (even those we forgot) through confession, and through reception of the Eucharist (as long as we don’t have other mortal sins on our soul).  Venial sins which we frequently commit are great types of sins to confess.
    Lastly, we need to intend to do the penance.  Sometimes penances are more than simply prayers or reading Scripture, so you’ll need to do them when you get home.  But as long as you intend to do the penance, you can still receive Holy Communion after confession.  And, if the penance is not something you can do at all, let the priest know when he gives you the penance, rather than having to confess later that you did not do your penance. 
    The Church commands us to confess once per year.  But why not more?  If confession is an encounter with our loving God, who heals us of our wounds, then once per year is the bare minimum, and we should seek to experience that special love of God whenever we need to, and even if we don’t need to, when it’s available.  We’re not to be scrupulous, to think that every sin separates us from sanctifying grace–the grace that allows us to be in right relationship with God.  But we also don’t want to treat confession as something we do only when we need to because we’re in mortal sin. 
    Confession is a cleansing of the temple of our souls, but more than that, it’s a chance to receive the mercy of God.  Don’t miss out on a chance for God to show you this special kind of love.  Regularly ask for that merciful encounter with our compassionate God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

A New Perspective

 Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When I come to a problem, or something that needs fixing, I have a way of seeing one solution to that problem, and proceeding accordingly.  However, sometimes my approach is not the best, or won’t work at all.  It’s not until the problem is looked at from another angle and another approach is taken that the problem can easily be solved or addressed.
    We have lots of issues in society today.  And there are twice as many solutions proposed as there are problems.  But the solutions all tend to focus on an earthly solution; most look to solve the issue.  While laws are important, and policies can help direct funding to needed programs, so many of the issues we deal with cannot be truly solved with earthly solutions.  We need to look to heaven.
    Christians have sometimes been accused of not caring about the world.  They are said to only care about heaven, and so don’t care about the things here on earth.  But more often than not, it is only by concentrating on heaven that we come to see the ways that we can treat, not only the symptoms of what ills our world, but the disease, because the way we deal with our world has an impact on whether or not we go to heaven.  
    Living for heaven takes faith, looking beyond what is seen to what is unseen.  Our long reading from the Letter to the Hebrews talks about Abraham as the model of faith.  He left his homeland in modern-day Iraq to travel to the Promised Land, not knowing what he would find when he got there, or if this God who had revealed Himself to Abraham and called him to sojourn to a new land would care for him.  And then, Abraham trusted that God would give him descendants, though he and Sarah, his wife, were past the childbearing age.  And then, when God asked Abraham to sacrifice that son that they had conceived, Abraham trusted that God would raise him up, so that God’s promise that Abraham’s descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the sky would come true.

     All of this, from an earthly point of view, seemed foolish.  Iraq has been called the cradle of civilization, and society there was likely more advanced than the scattered and small Canaanite nations to which Abraham ventured.  Abraham was one hundred years old when Isaac was born, and no one would have expected that Abraham and Sarah could even conceive, let along bring a healthy boy into the world.  In fact, Sarah saw things from an earthly point of view, and so, before God promised that she would conceive, Sarah told Abraham to have relations with her slave, Haggar, in order to “help” God fulfill His promises.  But Haggar’s son, Ishamel, was not to be the son of the promise, because God had a different solution.  And lastly, even Isaac was probably concerned when Abraham led them both up the mountain, as they had the wood and the fire for the sacrifice, and they had a knife, but no animal to slaughter.  From an earthly point of view, it would have been better to not even climb the mountain and simply run away from God’s mysterious command.
    But Abraham had faith in God, and trusted that, if God promised, He would deliver.  So Jesus told His disciples and tells us, that we are to take a different view as we go about this world.  We are to act as those awaiting for the Master to return.  If we do, then the Master will serve us.  But if we don’t, if we don’t act in accordance with the Master’s will, and do whatever we want, then we will be punished for our disobedience to the Master.
    What does this practically mean?  It means that the choices we make should coincide with God’s will, as much as we are able.  It means that we don’t look necessarily to earthly fixes to our problems, as to heavenly guidance and solutions. When it comes to our environment, we have a responsibility to care for the earth.  Some would say that we can no longer drive gas cars, or travel in planes, or even eat meat because cows fart too much.  That certainly is an earthly point of view (often enough, sadly, wrought with exceptions for the rich and the powerful).  From a faith point of view, we look first at ourselves, and examine our stewardship of created goods.  Do I waste a lot?  Do I use resources unnecessarily?  How do I treat the environment in which I live?  Laws can help us be good stewards of creation.  But when we have that conversion to live as good stewards of creation, as God called us to be in Genesis, then we find even better solutions than mandating rules that apply to “thee but not me.”
    When it comes to the violence that plagues our nation, from an earthly point of view, it would seem the easiest to simply outlaw all guns, or types of guns, for most people.  I can tell you from my work with the State Police, that there are a large amount of people who don’t care what the laws state; they will do whatever they want, for good or for ill.  So simply passing this law, or outlawing that gun, is not going to stop the violence (though perhaps there are certain laws that would help).  When we look to a heavenly point of view, we see how broken families are these days, and how that affects the development of children into adolescence and adulthood.  We see how much disturbing violence children are exposed to on screens from an early age.  We see that people are not taught constructive ways to work out differences, but those who call themselves leaders tend to yell, scream, and destroy whenever they don’t get their way.  Do I do all I can to be a loving mother or father (or grandfather or grandmother)?  Do I make time for my children (or grandchildren), limit and monitor their screen time and what they are viewing?  Do I belittle others and treat them as less than human when they don’t agree with me, or show that each human being has dignity and value, even when we don’t see eye-to-eye?
    With these, and countless other issues, we can get stuck in a hamster-wheel of trying to find solutions that don’t solve the bigger problems.  We forget God, and forget that God has given us long and lasting ways to solve, not only the symptoms of our human failings, but the deeper disease.  Those who keep their eyes on heaven, and on the fact that they will be called to account for their actions to our heavenly Masters, are precisely the ones who are more likely to be good stewards here on earth.  Don’t just seek earthly solutions.  Seek the answers that come from heaven.

Being A Good Steward (Precept #5)

 Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As we pass through these Sundays after Pentecost, I thought it would be good to focus on some thematic preaching.  I still want to tie it to the readings, in some way, maybe only loosely, but still seeing how our faith and the Word of God are intertwined.  So, I’ve decided, for the next weeks, to concentrate on the Precepts of the Church.
    There are five precepts, which are described as “positive laws decreed by the pastoral authorities…meant to guarantee to the faithful the very necessary minimum in the spirit of prayer and moral effort, int he growth in love of God and neighbor.”  So these are not all there is to being Catholic, but we could call them the basic rules and expectations of membership in the institutional Church.  The five (as found in the Catechism, paragraphs 2041-2043) are:

You shall attend Mass on Sundays and on holy days of obligation and rest from servile labor;
You shall confess your sins at least once a year
You shall receive the sacrament of the Eucharist at least during the Easter season;
You shall observe the days of fasting and abstinence established by the Church
You shall help to provide for the needs of the Church
 

Again, there are other necessary aspects of being Catholic (belief in the revealed dogmas of faith and living revealed moral teachings, respect and obedience to legitimate ecclesiastical authority, daily prayer, etc.), but these give us a base line.  Today, based upon our Gospel, I would like to focus on the last precept: you shall help to provide for the needs of the Church.

    Today's Gospel focuses on stewardship.  Our Lord tells a parable about a dishonest steward, who then makes side deals with the debtors, hoping that one of them will take him in after he’s fired, since he’s not able to do hard labor, and too ashamed to beg.  The fifth precept tells us that we are to provide for the needs of the Church, including, it goes on to say, the material needs of the Church, “each according to his abilities.”  
    We probably naturally go to money when we think of the needs of the Church and possibly even the word stewardship.  Priests are either very hesitant or very quick to talk about money.  One layman joked that when a priest talks about money it can be called the Sermon on the Amount.  Personally, I try to avoid talking about money unless I need to.  But this one time probably won’t hurt too much (for you or for me).
    Because, honestly, the people of St. Matthew are very generous.  And I greatly appreciate your generosity.  I believe that people give what they can, according to their financial realities.  As St. Paul says, he does not want us to make ourselves poor in assisting others, but that each could have enough, based on their own situations.  Some give weekly, others give monthly; some give cash or checks, others donate online with a credit card.  We recently have been the beneficiary or a large bequest, which is helping to make our office renovation a reality, so some even remember St. Matthew after death.  But, I’ll admit, it took me a while as a young man to consider giving to the church.  In high school, even though I was working a summer maintenance job for my parish, I’m pretty sure I didn’t give anything.  I didn’t make much, and that continued as a seminarian, and so I didn’t give much or anything.  But, after I was ordained, I made a commitment to give at least 5% of my income to the Church (whether the parish or the Diocese or even the universal Church), which would then leave me to donate up to 5% to other organizations.  And I think I’ve been pretty faithful to that.  But I don’t remember being approached by anyone as a young man, to remember to give.  So, for all you young adults, whether living with your parents or living on your own, here’s my plug: consider giving to the parish.  Maybe it’s only a buck or two every week, but you’ll be part of supporting our great parish.  
    Why give?  Because a steward is one who recognizes that what he has is not his.  A steward uses the goods of the master, with the master’s authority.  But they don’t, strictly speaking, belong to the steward.  When it comes to us, everything we have, whether directly or indirectly, comes from God.  The talents we use to get a good job come from God.  The talents of entrepreneurs who form companies that then hire us come from God.  Everything eventually gets traced back to God.  And so, as part of the virtue of justice, we give back to God some of what He has given to us.
    But I know that many of you are blessed with large families, and so don’t have a lot of money, even to give to the church.  And that is why it’s important to note that stewardship is not only about money.  It’s also about time and talent.  
    I have been so impressed by the donation of time and talent of parishioners here!  We have groups that help clean the church, ushers who collect our paper hand missals, gardeners who help care for the flowers, catechists who help form children (sometimes their own) and adults in the faith, those who donate food for our potlucks, members of our Finance Council and Pastoral Council who help guide the future of the parish, sacristans, servers, cantors, and the list goes on and on (I do not mean to leave you out, so please don’t take offense if I did not explicitly mention your group or activity).  People giving their time and talent to the parish are also a great sign of health and vitality.  And it gives a way for all people, those with large incomes and those who struggle to make ends meet each week, a way to build up the Mystical Body of Christ.
    And that is the real point of stewardship: that we do what we can to serve Christ.  I’m not the judge of your stewardship: that belongs to the Lord, who sees not only the external gifts, but also the internal gifts, and judges justly.  But we can never rest on our laurels when it comes to being good stewards.  Each June I re-evaluate how I am being a good steward of what God gave me, just as each Lent I re-evaluate my beneficiaries for what I will leave behind.  It’s a good thing not to view our stewardship with the perspective of fear, but in the freedom of being poor in spirit, relying on God for what we need and doing what we can to help others who are in need, to be, as St. Theresa of Avila says, the hands of God.  

    Thank you for your generosity of time, talent, and treasure, which helps St. Matthew continue to be a lamp in the city of Flint, radiating the truth and love of Christ to a city which desperately needs it.  Let’s re-evaluate what we can do, so that we can be even better stewards of all that our generous God has entrusted to us, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Distractions

 Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    To be honest, on a weekly basis or so, my dishwasher is full of clean dishes, having just been washed.  I know that I should put them in their proper cupboards and drawers, but it’s not something I really want to do.  So I find some distraction–maybe the reruns of “Law and Order” that I’ve seen a million times before; maybe checking on my Clash of Clans game on the phone, or scrolling through Facebook; or a particularly ironic choice, eating something, which often involves pulling one dish out to use, while leaving the others still sitting in the dishwasher.
    It’s funny the amount of energy we spend on distractions and not attending to what is important.  I say funny because it takes me all of about 5 minutes to empty the dishwasher.  It’s not hard work, it’s not even that time-consuming.  But the distractions seem more enjoyable, or less work, or just something else other than what we should be doing.
    When it comes to our faith life, we can go after distractions, rather than attending to Jesus, the one who is truly necessary.  We find all sorts of other distractions so that we don’t have to go deeper in our relationship with God.  That’s not to say that we are all called to be monks or nuns, praying different prayers at every moment when we’re not working, cooking, or cleaning.  But how often do we find ways to keep from concentrating on our faith life, on our relationship with God, because we put up distractions as obstacles to dealing with deeper issues?
    We see that even in the Gospel today.  Someone is listening to Jesus, but decides that now is the good time to get Jesus to arbitrate an inheritance issue.  Now, before being too rough on the person, rabbis often intervened to help people understand what was just and the right course of action according to the law of Moses and rabbinical interpretations.  But Jesus doesn’t get bogged down in that.  He calls out the distraction, and asserts that there are more important things to be focused on than who gets the money from the parents’ estate.
    Money can sometimes be a distraction to our relationship with God.  We get so caught up in money issues that we forget to focus on God.  This distraction is particularly tough, because money allows one to fulfill one’s responsibilities to self or to family.  So yes, by all means find a job that helps pay the bills.  But don’t let the quest for money tear you away from God, as it so often does.  Money frequently becomes a god, where if we just had a little more, then we would be fine.  But that little more never seems to be enough, and the bar always seems to move farther and farther away when it comes to how much money we need.  One of the beautiful things about the Catholic Church is that our Church is for rich and poor alike.  We are all called to be fed by the Word of God and the Eucharist, and to share those graces with those we meet, whether we have a lot or a little.  Jesus wants us to make God our priority, in times of plenty and in times of need, even as we share our resources to care for the members of this parish and the wider community.
    I would say that politics has become another distraction to our relationship with God.  In many ways we, as Americans, have made politics our new religion.  We spend hours, not in front of a gold box that holds the Incarnate Word of God, but in front of a thin, black box that shows political party events.  We tire of a ten-minute homily on strengthening our faith, but we’ll spend hours listening to this or that politician pontificate on why the opponent is wrong on whatever the new issue is.  We put up with those who claim to be Catholic but who say things or do things which are contrary to the faith, but if a Democratic senator doesn’t support the Green New Deal, or if a Republican senator votes to approve a controversial appointee, we go crazy and seek to ostracize them from the party and from our life.  We belittle and demonize them and treat them worse that the Pharisees treated sinners and tax collectors.  Again, this is not to say that we shouldn’t participate in politics (you should participate in the primary election this Tuesday, and vote with a conscience informed by your Catholic faith), but what priority do we give to Uncle Sam versus God our Father?
    And we focus on these things and more so that we don’t have to focus on how we’re doing with God.  We have a sense that we’re not as strong in our faith or as close to God as we want to be, but when it comes to cutting out the distractions, we find that we prefer distractions to our religion.  The distractions are, as our first reading says, vanities.  Money will come and go, as will politicians.  But Jesus remains for ever.  Whatever distractions we prefer, they don’t save us, and they don’t continue after death.  And we never know how much time we have before God will call us to account for how we used our time, how much we spent on Him or how much we spent on distractions.  
    Jesus invites us today to be rich in the things that matter to God.  Don’t let distractions keep you from eternal life and the joy that comes from the Gospel!