In A Post-Christendom Age

Christ the King
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Much ink has been spilt of late on the idea of Christendom, or a worldwide or Western-wide Christian kingdom reality.  In case you’re wondering, we’re not in it.  Christendom often describes a reality where Christian values are the norm, and may even be the major underpinning of the legal system.  In the US, people often think of the 1950s as demonstrating the height of Christendom for Americans.  Certainly, in Europe that history goes much farther back, but also frayed during the time of the so-called Enlightenment, until its collapse probably around World War I, when many in Europe wondered how a Christian ethos could produce the “War to end all wars” between Christian countries.
    Again, in case you’re wondering, we’re not in a time of Christendom.  While our court system, perhaps the last bastion of sanity in our otherwise crazy political system, has upheld our rights as a church against the assaults connected with especially the Obama and Biden administrations (think of Little Sisters of the Poor, the redefinition of civil marriage, and the promotion of gender dysphoria policies), society generally has walked away from a Christian worldview.  
    And in some cases, we’re to blame.  When our lives as Catholics no longer act as salt and leaven, but rather are part of the rot and flatness of society, is it no wonder that others would not want to continue with Christians providing the overarching theme of society?  Two extreme examples from the past century stand out as acute reminders that simply being Christian doesn’t mean you live a Christian life: Hitler and Stalin were both baptized Christians: Hitler a Catholic and Stalin a Russian Orthodox.  But many more stopped living the faith in their work and in their homes, which had an even greater diminishment of trust in a Christian worldview.  
    So, as we celebrate Christ the King this Sunday, what do we celebrate in a post-Christendom world?  This is an important date for the Traditional Latin Mass community of Flint, but how do we celebrate Christ the King when He seems to reign less and less in our country and in our world?  
    In the first place, we have to ask ourselves if Christ is truly king in our lives.  Can people tell that I am Catholic when I work?  When I invite friends over to my house?  When I go on vacation?  The first and most important way to spread a Christian and Catholic culture is to live it ourselves.  If we do not live the Gospel at its roots, that is, in a radical way (from the Latin word radice, meaning root), then no one is going to listen to me encouraging them to become Catholic or to live with Catholic values.  One thing that people look for today is authenticity.  While we all fall short of our goals at times, living something in integrity convinces others.  Living Catholicism only as a mask does not convince others, and strengthens the point that it’s not worth trying, since even those who profess it don’t live it.  May our lives not reflect the quote from G.K. Chesterton: “The Christian idea has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried.”  If we don’t do what we can to live up to the standard Christ sets, why would we expect others to do so?

    Secondly, Christ told Pontius Pilate that His Kingdom was not of this world.  That doesn’t mean that we don’t advance the Gospel and Christ’s way of life, but that it will always be opposed.  Christ is King, whether we and the world accept Him or not.  And at the end of time, that kingdom will come in force.  But until that happens, our goal is to encourage others, by proposition, not imposition, to join in the kingdom, so that the inauguration of the full reign of Christ will be a day of joy for them and us, not a day of wrath.  The blueprint for this is what is called the Apostolic Model (in distinction from the Christendom Model).  Our key is to live like the Apostles did: filled with the Holy Spirit; committed wholeheartedly to Christ; willing to suffer persecution joyfully for the sake of the Name.  The first disciples were not theologians.  Maybe St. Paul could claim that title, but most of the first disciples simply opened themselves to Christ’s grace and were willing to die for their belief that He is God and saved them from sin and eternal death.  They lived in a way that showed they were ready for Christ’s return at any moment, not growing drowsy from the wait.  

    Living in such a way, and dying in such a way, transformed the first-century world.  The first generations of Christians did not participate in the all-too-common debauchery of public life.  They did not concern themselves with doing anything to gain power and prestige.  They loved those who persecuted them.  They lived innocent lives, but did not disdain to be martyred when confronted with false charges of treason or heresy against the Roman pantheon.  This convinced everyday people to convert and follow Christ then, and it will work to convince and convert everyday people now.  In a world that lacks logical consistency; in a world gone made by lust and power, those who live the truth (not their truth but the truth) stand out as beacons.  Yes, some will persecute those who are not mad.  St. Anthony of the Desert saw this some seventeen hundred years ago when he wrote, “A time is coming when men will go mad, and when they see someone who is not mad, they will attach him, saying, ‘You are mad; you are not like us.’”   So we need to be ready for greater persecution, if it comes.  But when neighbors recognize that we are not buying into the cultural madness, and that we are even willing to suffer because we do not buy into it, they will slowly come to our side, and sense the power of the Gospel, just as ordinary Romans did in the first three hundred years of the Church.
    Christ is King.  And while His Kingdom has not advance in this world recently, and in fact has receded quite a bit, His Kingdom cannot, in the end, be stopped.  In the meantime, our goal is to live the faith in its fulness, doing all we can to follow Christ with all of who we are.  When we do this, we live as faithful subjects of so great a King, and can expect to be welcomed into the mansions prepared for us when His Kingdom comes in all its fulness at the end of time.  To Christ be honor and glory for ever and ever.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Blind Spots

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    More times than I would like to admit, I have been driving on the freeway, with a slow car ahead of me in the right lane (and, for the record, I generally drive 72 miles per hour), and I start to merge into the left lane, and either I notice the other car as I’m turning my head to the side to make sure the lane is clear (I know, I’m supposed to do that before I attempt to merge), or the car in the right lane next to me honks as I start to merge over.  Even with my “blind spot” indicator on the side-view mirror, I am still sometimes unaware of everything going on around me on the road.
    Our Lord heals Bartimaeus today in the Gospel from his blindness.  His blindness involved physically being unable to see.  But, ironically, Bartimaeus’ spiritual sight seemed to be 20/20.  How can we tell?  He cries out, “‘Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.’”  He cannot see, but he knows that Jesus is the Messiah, the long-foretold son of David who would save Israel.  He hadn’t seen any of Jesus’ miracles, but he trusted in what he heard and in what Jesus could do.  And even when people tell him to be quiet, Bartimaeus just keeps calling out to the Lord.  Ironically, those around Jesus, the “sizable crowd,” as St. Mark reports, had some blindness of their own.  Otherwise they would not have told Bartimaeus to be quiet.  Perhaps the crowd had heard of what this rabbi from Nazareth could do, but they didn’t expect Him to heal the man from the roadside.  
    We all have blindspots.  We all miss things that we should otherwise see.  Luckily, as we hear in the Letter to the Hebrews, Christ “is able to deal patiently with the ignorant and the erring.”  Because we have received so much that should make things so clear.  And yet, sometimes we are as spiritually blind as Bartimaeus was physically.  We fail to recognize what God is doing, or even who God is, though we have opportunities to encounter Him every day.
    Sometimes our blindness comes from our busyness.  When I’m driving and I don’t see the car coming up behind me or along my side, it’s usually because I have focused on the wrong thing, or I am in a rush.  I think that whatever I want to concentrate on is more important, and I miss the other vehicles traveling with me on the road.  This can happen in our faith life.  We get so busy with work, or maybe even with leisure, or maybe even with our family, that we neglect to take time to notice how God works or when God tries to communicate with us directly or through others.  Our minds get clogged with unnecessary worries, and we become like the sizable crowd that fails to recognize Jesus’ power and mission.  

    The antidote to this is daily prayer.  I know that, when we feel busy, we feel like we don’t have time to pray.  But, St. Teresa of Calcutta reminded us that if we feel too busy, that’s a sign we need to pray more, not less.  And, let’s be honest, we often can make time for prayer at work, though it might mean not scrolling the news page headlines or playing a game on our phone as a little break.  Or on vacation, we can choose to pray on a beach, or in the woods, and make time for going to Mass while on vacation.  Or even at home, though the kids are screaming, or making a mess, we can try to pray, even if that prayer is, “Lord, give me patience!” or “Thank you, God, for my beautiful children who don’t always act so beautifully,” or even taking more time as you put the kids to bed to pray with them and tell them just how much Jesus loves them.    But don’t let busyness be the disease that causes spiritual blindness.
    Joshua, as you enter into full communion with us, you complete one journey and begin another.  You are finishing a path which led you to seek the truths of the Catholic faith, truths that  you discovered are from Christ Himself through His Mystical Body, the Church.  You started to gain a new vision of the world and of being a disciple of Christ, which began outside the Catholic Church when you were baptized.  Christ gave you a new vision back then, and He continues to give you a new vision now.  But today you also begin a new road on your pilgrimage to the Father’s house.  You begin to walk with us as a Catholic, as we all continue to seek clarity in our spiritual sight from the Lord.  
    As you begin this new pilgrimage, do not be afraid to cry out to the Lord when you need Him.  If a teaching does not seem obvious, or if you are in need of forgiveness in the Sacrament of Penance, do not fear to cry out, “‘Jesus, son of David, have pity on me!’”  He will come to you, in one way or another, and heal you from whatever blindness afflicts you at that moment.  And know that you are not alone.  I don’t know if all our parishioners would be considered a “sizable crowd,” but, unlike that crowd outside Jericho, we commit ourselves to helping you encounter the Lord more and more each day.  Do not be afraid to reach out to us, as well all walk towards the Lord and doing His will.
    If we are honest, we all have blind spots.  But, with the Lord’s grace, we can find healing and clear sight.  May the Lord open our eyes and our hearts to His love and truth each day as we seek to follow Him.

The Good Work in You

Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Sometimes a particular phrase has a way of taking our minds back to a specific point of time.  For example, whenever I hear or read the phrase we heard from the epistle–“May God who has begun the good work in you bring it to fulfillment”–I am taken back to the day of my ordination, when Bishop Boyea said those exact words to me after I made my promises to be the priest the Church calls me to be.  
    In many ways I looked at my ordination as an ending.  And after eight years of seminary formation, that’s probably not surprising.  It had seemed like forever since I started at St. John Vianney College Seminary immediately after high school in 2002, and it even seemed like a relatively long time since I had started Sacred Heart Major Seminary in 2006.  And while the first and most important goal of seminary is proper discernment of God’s call (or not), the farther along you get, the more you look forward to ordination to the priesthood.  That last year, as a transitional deacon, you’re looking at chalices, vestments, and trying to plan for the ordination reception, so ordination especially seems like the goal.
    But the words that are said before the man is ordained treat it, not as an ending, but as a beginning.  God has begun the good work, and we pray it finds its way to completion, on the day of Christ Jesus.  And, in retrospect and with the blessing of age and hopefully the acquisition of a bit more wisdom, ordination really is a beginning, more so than an ending.  And the years that follow really demonstrate how that good work is moving closer to or farther from completion.
    But the same is true for the other sacramental vocation, the vocation to Holy Matrimony.  Instead of eight years it’s around eight months or proximate preparation (sometimes more, sometimes less, based upon the date of engagement).  But there’s still all that planning and excitement for the “big day.”  Still, the big day is not the ending (though, and I’m sure the father’s of the bride are especially happy for this, it does end all the spending for the day of celebration).  The wedding day begins a lifelong commitment to the other, a good work, that finds its completion on the day when the bond of marriage is broken by death, by meeting the Lord.  That’s why we do marriage prep: to help the couple prepare, not so much for the wedding, but for married life and all the days that follow the wedding.
    But this is also true for all of Christ’s faithful.  When the priest baptizes us, a “good work” is begun, that will not find its completion until we meet the Lord, either at our death or at the end of time on the last day.  Either the parents or the one being baptized makes promises, just like a man makes promises on his ordination day, and a couple makes promises on their wedding day.  And every day that follows, God gives us all we need so that our “charity may more and more abound in knowledge and in all understanding.”  Our growth in holiness is really a growth in love of God and love of neighbor, as we understand better and better how God has made us for Himself, and how we can show that love to Him directly, as well as to our neighbor, with whom God identifies, especially the poor and outcast.  
    But so often we want to act like we should be a finished product.  We figure that, if we were truly holy, we would be done.  But the saints show us, time and time again, that we are never done growing in holiness.  Bishop Mengeling, who turns 94 on Tuesday, says frequently, “I’m not done yet!”  And he doesn’t just mean that he’s still alive.  He readily admits that he is still growing in holiness, and while continue growing for the rest of his life.  

    So don’t get too discouraged if you’re not there yet, if you’re not the saint that you want to be, and that God wants you to be.  Certainly, don’t give up or grow lazy and complacent.  But the work of your sanctification is a lifelong work.  It’s not something that you get to retire from once you reach a certain age, or have accomplished a certain number of achievements.  Even for me, if I make it to the age of seventy when I can become a senior priest, it’s not like I can stop living as a priest and give up my vocation.  No, I’ll continue it until death.  And for married couples, they can’t give up because their children have all grown, or when they’re retired from their jobs.  Marriage keeps going “until death do [you] part.”  
    The call of holiness is to daily give God what is His due, that is, everything.  Even while God gives us some authority over our actions, all things are from God and belong to Him.  Each day God calls us to render to Him everything that we have: our life, our family, our work, our leisure, everything.  Just because we offer it to Him doesn’t mean that He will take it from us.  Sometimes it’s simply that we are willing to offer what is most precious to God, like Abraham did with Isaac.  But it is a good work that continues throughout our life, until, like Christ, we offer our last breath to God as we commend our spirit into His hands.  May God, who has begun the good work in us, bring it to fulfillment on the day of Christ Jesus, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Evaluating with Catholic Wisdom

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When I became a chaplain for the Michigan State Police, I learned very quickly that State Troopers have a different way of thinking of things.  Troopers generally will sit facing the door, and will often evaluate the room for potential threats.  Because they see so many horrible things, they tend to have a very dark sense of humor as a coping mechanism.  But they really do have a different way of thinking of things from the average citizen because of their training and experience.
    While we are not Troopers (though we do have one or two who come here from time to time), as Catholics we should have a particular point of view.  There is a certain way that we should look at the world which is not simply based upon our own experience or training, but based upon the wisdom of God.  We hear about that prayer for wisdom in our first reading; about a wisdom that comes from the Word of God in our second reading, the Word of God that is not a wisdom from a thousand years ago, but a wisdom that is living and effective; and in our Gospel the Lord talks about a wisdom that goes beyond a surface reading of the Law, to a deeper, full gift of self from an individual.  
    That is why we should talk about our Catholic faith, not so much as a group to which we belong, but rather a way of life that we live each day, to the best of our ability, following Christ and, as St. Paul says, Christ living in me.  Yes, there are a set of beliefs that we have, without which we cannot honestly refer to ourselves as Catholics, but it’s more than just things that we take into our minds.  Being Catholic involves allowing God to transform us and the choices we make by His grace, so that all of our life reflects choices that make sense based upon Jesus, whom we follow.

    And while we are probably sick of hearing political commercials, or getting texts about how this candidate or that candidate is a threat to democracy and will ruin our country for decades to come, I thought it would help to applying this theme of Catholic wisdom to a very important choice we have before us even right now, if we’re voting absentee, or in November if we go to the physical polls.  I promise you that I do not intend to endorse or reject any particular candidate or party.  That’s not what we do as the Catholic Church.  We do our best to inform you of the issues, to help you take in the wisdom of God, so that you can live that wisdom not only in the church on Sundays and holydays, but so that you can live that wisdom of God, based upon His Revelation, the Word of God, in every aspect of your life, including your political views.
    One of the first priorities of the Catholic Church is the dignity of every human life.  This is very counter-cultural.  Voters in Michigan, including, sadly, many Catholics, and voters across various political parties across the US treat human life based upon whether it has value to us or not.  But if we are truly living with the wisdom of God active in our life, we value every human life: the infant in the womb; the poor person on the street; the person who looks like she has it all together; the dying elderly person in a nursing home; and everything in-between.  Every other right flows from the dignity of the human being and his or her right to life.  If you can get rid of a human being because it has no value to you, then no other policy makes any difference because they all assume that every person is alive and treasured as a creation in the image and likeness of God.  So how does my vote support life?
    A second priority that comes from our Catholic wisdom is solidarity.  Solidarity means that we recognize that we are part of a human family.  Now, I don’t mean this in a secular humanist way, like the only thing which should unite us are the lowest common denominators.  Rather, solidarity says that, because Christ has died for every person, the other person has a right to my care and concern.  So how does my vote support a worldview where I am my brother’s keeper?
    A third priority that should influence all that we do, including our politics, is subsidiarity.  While we are all united to each other in solidarity, we do not have equal authority over everything.  Subsidiarity says that the smallest institution that can deal with responsibilities should do so, and larger institutions should only intervene when the smaller institution cannot adequately provide solutions on their own.  I’ll take education as one example.  The institution that should have the most say over its own life is the family.  But sometimes families cannot do everything on their own, so they rely on school districts to help them educate their child.  But sometimes even an individual district cannot provide for its own needs, so the State perhaps gathers money from everyone to support every district.  And maybe even in a few cases there are things that the State cannot do, so they turn to the federal government for guidance and funding in limited ways.  But the federal government shouldn’t set particular lesson plans for individual teachers in individual schools.  Likewise, we rely on the federal government for national defense, and that’s not something we rely on only one family to achieve national safety, though we do rely on other intermediate groups between the family and the federal government for local and State safety.  So when we vote, are we considering if a particular candidate or party respects subsidiarity and does not encourage infringement by larger institutions that which can be done by a smaller institution, even as small as the family?
    Lastly, living and voting based upon the wisdom of God calls us to consider the common good.  We live in a very selfish culture, where I predominately consider what is in my best interest.  Instead, God calls us to look beyond ourselves and consider others and what is best for them, not just what is good for us.  When I vote, am I thinking beyond what works best for me, and considering what works best for others?

    What do we do if we cannot find a candidate who fulfills all of these?  We do our best to choose the candidate or party who most fully supports these four main categories, as long as we do not choose a candidate because of an evil that he or she supports.  
    In all areas of our life, including our political life, we should live according to the wisdom of God, not the wisdom of the world.  When we live only according to our own wisdom, we limit ourselves to what our own minds can design and imagine.  When we live according to the wisdom of God, we tap into the guidance that comes from the Creator of all the universe, whom nothing can limit.  May we bring that wisdom with us to the voting booth, and to each part of our life every day.