Looking Back

Last Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When I turned forty, I wouldn’t say I had a mid-life crisis, but I will say that I took stock of my life.  Forty is not old, yet it significant, because eighty years old would be a good life, and the fortieth birthday means that I’m halfway there.  So I looked back to what I had done and what I had failed to do (using the words of the Confiteor).  
    As we come to this last Sunday of the liturgical year, we would do well to take stock of how our last year has gone.  I don’t mean so much in our natural lives, though that is fine to recall, too.  But I mean our spiritual lives.  How have we grown closer to Christ?  Or have we grown further separated from Him?  What virtues have really taken root?  Or what vices?  What grand intentions have we put into place?  Which ones remain simply intentions upon which we never or rarely acted?
    Our Lord gives us signs of when things would come to a head, so to speak.  One Scripture scholar notes that the abomination of which our Lord spoke in reference to Daniel was when the Syrian king Antiochus IV Epiphanes set up a statue of Zeus in the temple in the year 167 BC.  The scholar notes that early Christians would have seen the destruction of the Temple in AD 70 as a similar calamity.  But what has entered into the temples of the Holy Spirit that we are?  How have we given into the world and worldly views?
    Our Lord also mentions false messiahs.  Others will point to false saviors and false prophets, whether in the desert, or in a room.  He tells us not to believe them.  Do we have people or things in which we put the trust that we should only put in God?  It’s so easy to elevate a person like a political leader or party, or a material good like money to the place that only God should occupy.  I will even get very queasy when, in March, the phrase pops up associated with the Michigan State basketball team, “In Izzo we trust.”  I’m all for some good March Madness, and Tom Izzo, who is Catholic, does seem to find a way to bring his team along to the Big Dance.  And that phrase is said in jest.  But still, whom do we trust?  Maybe this time of year, we’re putting more trust than we should into Dan Campbell.  Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing the Lions win for a change.  And he seems like a good guy, so I’m not trying to detract from his good name.  But how much do we allow a win from our men in Honolulu blue to affect our lives?  There’s nothing wrong with being a Lion or a Spartan fan (though I know there are a number of Wolverine fans who would say differently to that last part), but how much of our lives are spent focusing on sports, distracting us from things that matter much more and last much longer?
    But this year-end review is not all bad news.  While it’s good to examine our conscience, we should not only focus on what we have done wrong, but what is going right?  How are we progressing in virtue and growing closer to God?  Because, even in the midst of these tribulations, God promises mercy to those who stay faithful.  Christ mentions that the days of tribulation will be shortened for the sake of the elect.  God knows how much we can take, and He doesn’t give us more than we can handle (even if we end up saying with St. Teresa of Calcutta, I wish God didn’t trust me so much).  And none of the end tribulations should catch us off guard, because Christ Himself has warned us about what is to come, even if some of it has already come.  

    What lasts is the word of God.  The teachings of Christ remain forever, and they are sure and steady anchors onto which we can hold.  If we connect ourselves to that anchor, the waves may crash upon us, and may even push us around a bit.  But if we anchor ourselves on Christ, then we won’t go far from Him, and we’ll remain in the kingdom of Christ with the saints in light.  
    So, spend some time today reflecting on the past liturgical year.  Focus on areas in which we can grow.  But, also focus on successes we have found in Christ and cooperating with Him.  Both are important to note.  And pray, as we come to the end of this liturgical year, that we will remain faithful to Christ, no matter what happens in the world; no matter what happens in the Church.  Pray that we will have the strength to survive any tribulation because we are connected to the one who does not pass away, even as the heavens and the earth will, God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Chosen

Resumed 6th Sunday after Epiphany
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  In the epistle today, St. Paul talks about being chosen.  Some translations use the word elect.  In any case, the meaning is the same: God has selected us.  And for what or to what end has He selected us?  For salvation.  But we need to avoid the Calvinist position of double predestination, that God has chosen who will be saved and who will be damned.  Instead, with St. Augustine of Hippo, we say that God saves us with our cooperation, though He knows from all eternity who will accept the grace of God and cooperate with Him.
    What a great mystery!  God relies on us, in a limited sense, to save us.  Of course, the means of salvation is the sacrifice of Christ, which is re-presented for us in an unbloody manner on this altar.  Still, we can choose whether or not to accept the salvation that comes from that once-for-all sacrifice, not just at the time of our baptism, but throughout our life, and, indeed, each day!  
    One of my favorite authors, Romano Guardini, wrote about this in his great work, The Lord.  While meditating on John’s account of the High Priestly Prayer at the Last Supper, Guardini writes:
 

[The Apostles] are his.  Jesus has taught them his message and the name of his Father.  He has lost none of them but the son of perdition.  Not even the implacable passages of the Epistle to the Romans speak with such harshness of the law of grace and the inviolate sovereignty of that divine will which chooses as it pleases, giving those it has selected to the Son–leaving the others so far behind that the Son does not even pray for them.  We should hear these words often, and God grant us the fear without which we shall never enjoy salvation!  The more deeply we understand them, the more unconditionally we should fling ourselves on God’s mercy.  Autonomous, he [God] can choose whom he will; there is no such thing as a “right” to be chosen, but nothing on earth should hinder me from pleading: Lord, let me be among your chosen, and my loved ones, and all mankind!  Do not add: for I have done no real wrong.  If you are tempted to, fear for your chances.  Before this tremendous mystery it matters little whether or not you have done your duty, whether you are noble or base, possess this or that intrinsically important quality.  Everyone should do what he can; every value retains its value; but in the face of this overwhelming mystery, such things are no longer decisive.  You must know only this, but as profoundly as possible: that you are a sinner and lost.  In this knowledge fling yourself on God’s heart and say: Lord, will that I be chosen; that I am among those given to your Son never to be lost–my loved ones and I and all mankind!

It was a long quote, but worth the reading, as he captures both God’s divine will and our participation.
    As Catholics, we can say that we are chosen.  But not with arrogance or as laurels upon which to rest.  Because, as Christ said in the Gospel of John, we did choose Him, but He chose us.  In one sense, we might say that because many of our parents had us baptized.  But even for those who, as young adults or adults chose to become Catholic, that choice was only possible because God gave us the grace to accept Him.  Being Catholic cannot simply be a matter of the will.  It is an openness to God’s grace which He begins in us.  
    And why did Christ choose us?  John continues relating what our Savior said, telling us that those who are chosen are selected to go and bear fruit that will remain.  We aren’t chosen for our own sake, or because we are the wisest, strongest, most attractive, or those with the best genes.  We are chosen so that the world can be converted to Christ, so that humanity can be what God wanted it to be in the Garden of Eden, and, even better, what Christ died so that humanity could be.  Our election in Christ is not so much as badge, as a catalyst that stirs us to evangelical action.  
    And, as Guardini noted, everyone should do what he can.  True, the Apostles didn’t really get this at first, but once they had been filled with the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, they realized that importance of sharing what Christ had done for them.  They received the courage from the Holy Spirit to share with others, often in simple ways, but sometimes in very profound ways, that life in Christ changes everything, and that one can find the happiness for which he was made, perhaps not on this earth, but after death in heaven.  
    And while we do not earn our salvation, St. Paul urges us in his epistle to the Philippians to work out our salvation with fear and trembling.  Why would we do that?  Only if we are not sure if we will be chosen in the end.  When we recognize that we are sinners and lost, then we seek to do what we can to show God that we should be chosen, not because we can merit it, but showing that we know we need saving, and that we are open to the salvation God wants for us.  

Msgr. Romano Guardini

    Guardini also reminds us that we should pray that we might be part of the chosen.  That prayer helps keep our election as not something that we take for granted, but something we seek each day.  This prayer to be chosen throws us on God’s mercy, which is the only way we can be chosen.  And it reminds us that being chosen means bearing fruit, and not being like the fig tree that was cursed because it would not bear fruit for the Lord.  
    Our election in Christ is a reason to give thanks.  But it is also an impulse to spread the Gospel.  Our election is made at baptism, but it is a gift that we can accept or reject each day.  Lord, will that we be chosen; that we be among those given to your Son never to be lost–my loved ones and I and all mankind!  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Waiting...

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Modern society does not make waiting easier, though, for many, myself included, it already seems difficult enough.  If I order something on Amazon, not only can I track the package to see when they will deliver it, they even sometimes will show me where the driver is in the city.  On election night, too, it frustrated me that the results of States couldn’t be called immediately.  I wanted to know the results immediately, or shortly after, the polls closed.  But I had to wait.
    Unlike Amazon deliveries, and more like the recent elections, we don’t know when the end is coming.  We know Christ will return.  We know, as Daniel prophesied, that “those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake.”  But we don’t know when.  Many have tried to read certain passages of Scripture and match them to current events to determine when Christ would return, but Christ Himself assures us, “‘of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.’”  So what are we supposed to do?
    Well, we wait (thanks, Captain Obvious!).  But how do we wait?  We wait in joyful hope, but we wait as those awaiting the imminent return of the Master, waiting in such a way that we’re not caught off-guard.  What do I mean?  Don’t live in such a way that you think you have more time, because you never know.
    We do have a very young parish.  I would guess that the average age of parishioners is somewhere around 40-45.  And one of the downfalls of being young is thinking that we have more time.  Those who are more senior know that their days are limited, and the end is likely closer than the beginning.  So they tend to make decisions differently than those who think they have a long time.
    I think about when I was younger.  I know I’ve told this story before, but when I was old enough to be left at home, but still under the age of eighteen, my parents would often give me some sort of chore to do before they returned home, like washing the dishes, or sweeping the floor.  There were a few times where I neglected to do those chores earlier, and then remembered that I had not done what they had asked me to do as the car started down the driveway.  In case you’re wondering, that’s not the way we should approach the return of Christ.
    Living as disciples should be something that pervades all our life.  It’s not a part-time job, or a chore to accomplish at the last minute, or a hobby.  It’s a relationship with Christ, that should define who we are, much like marriage defines a man or a woman who is married.  The couple who treats their relationship like a part-time job, or a chore, or even an enjoyable hobby, does not stay together for long.  Instead, their marriage affects their work, their choices, their vacation plans, and all of what they do.  It may not be explicit, but it at least implicitly modifies all their life.  
    And if that is how we live as Catholics, then whenever the end comes, it will not catch us off-guard.  When Christ returns in glory, and He raises all the dead for the universal judgement, we will find it the consummation of the way we have lived our lives, rather than a shock and awe event.  It will be like the husband who has served overseas in the military for years, who finally gets to see his wife when he returns home.  They will hardly be able to contain their joy at reuniting after those long days, months, and years.  Their days, months, and years of remaining faithful to each other; of not living like a single person, though they were separated from their spouse; of not going out to the bars at times because the temptation to stray would prove too strong; of choosing to send and email home rather than playing cards with the guys would all prove worth it, because they remained faithful, even when it was difficult.
    Emilio, as we welcome you today into the Catholic Church, you are not done.  Yes, you don’t have to meet with Amanda each week to help discern if you are ready to join us.  Yes, you will have access to the entire sacramental life of the Church from this day on, and not only be joined to us through Holy Baptism.  But you are beginning a new part of life where Christ desires and deserves your fidelity.  Your relationship with Him should guide how you work, how you invest, your friendships and relationships, your actives, your vacations, and all of life, just like the same should be true for all those here who are already Catholics.  But, because you are joining with us, you have all the aides that Christ has provided through His Holy Church to make sure that you are living for Him, and stand ready for His return.  We rejoice with you today, but we also recommit ourselves as we help you live like a Catholic each day until the return of Christ.
    Because we know neither the day nor the hour.  We don’t know when St. Michael will begin the final battle, when the trumpet will sound, when the angels will gather the elect from the four corners of the world.  But we do know that, if we are doing our best to stay faithful to the relationship we have with Christ, then, as the Protestant hymn says, “what a day of rejoicing that will be!”

Sunday after Pentecost or Epiphany?

Resumed 5th Sunday after Epiphany
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  These Sundays after Christ the King can be a bit confusing.  The Introit (what is sung while I begin the prayers at the foot of the altar), the Gradual, the Offertory Chant, and the Communion Chant are all from the 23rd Sunday after Pentecost.  However, the epistle and the Gospel come from the fifth Sunday after the Epiphany.  This all happens because the number of Sundays after Christ the King can vary, depending on when Advent starts, which can vary based upon what day of the Christmas falls.  It was probably this complicated formula that led those tasked with revising the liturgy after the Second Vatican Council to move Christ the King to what we would call the last Sunday after Pentecost, and to adjust the variable number of Sundays based upon where Lent begins.
    Truth be told, I think that calculating time after major feast days makes more sense.  Ordinary Time gets a bad rap because of its ambivalent name.  It would probably be better to call it “Ordered Time,” or even to use the more literal translation of per annum as of or through the year.  But there must have been some good to continue to use the way that the 1962 Missal uses the twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost for much of the Mass, and the resumed Sundays after Epiphany for the readings.  

The Prophet Jeremiah

    First, we hear Jeremiah’s prophecy from chapter 29 repeatedly.  And in this prophecy Jeremiah speaks for the Lord saying that the Lord has a desire for peace for us, not affliction.  And when we return to the Lord, He will end our captivity.  As we come to the end of this liturgical year, we focus more and more on the end of time and prepare for the return of the Lord (which Advent highlights in particular).  And one could approach the end in two ways: in fear, as a day of wrath, or as the consummation of a life-long courtship with God.  The Lord tells us, Sunday after Sunday, that He prefers the latter, not the former.  He wants to redeem us from this vale of tears, this land of our captivity where we struggle under the burden of sin.  So as we consider the end and our judgement, we do well to remember what the Lord desires for us, and how we can receive that gift of eternal bliss.
    The Gradual continues the same theme.  God has delivered us from all that afflicts us.  We will glory in God all the day and praise His name forever.  Again, this is what heaven is: the deliverance from sin.  While we are on earth, we can still fall into temptation.  While our salvation is the goal, given to us as a downpayment in Holy Baptism, we can reject that gift and choose to walk away from God.  Our fallen desires and the suggestions of the evil one can try to convince us to give up our inheritance which is eternal life with the saints in light.  Once we have died, temptation can no longer affect us.  We will receive the results of what we chose in life: Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory, none of which allow for a change in our final destination due to rejecting or accepting sin (Purgatory can only lead to Heaven, so even there we cannot alter our destination).  And, if we accept that gift of salvation, then we will praise God for all eternity, in the day that knows no end in heaven.  
    Having recognized what God wants for us, we turn to the Offertory Chant, from Psalm 129, called the De Profundis.  We cry out to the Lord because we recognize that we have not always accepted the graces of Holy Baptism, Confirmation, and the Holy Eucharist.  This prayer is also said at the beginning of the Requiem Mass in the Extraordinary Form, as we plead for the deceased.  And while we don’t hear beyond the first couple of verses, Psalm 129 goes on to say, “If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?  But with you is found forgiveness; for this we revere you.”  We acknowledge that no one can earn salvation, because we are all sinners.  But God’s mercy can save us, and this gives us reason to worship Him.  Having recognized what God wants for us, we cry out that we might be open to that gift of eternal salvation, which is only possible due to the Lord’s mercy.  
    Lastly, in the Communion Chant, we hear our Lord’s words from the Gospel of Mark: “Amen I say to you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you shall receive it, and it shall be done to you.”  Having worthily received the Body of the Lord, He commends us to trust that our prayers for salvation will be answered.  Now, this doesn’t mean that we can commit mortal sin, be unrepentant, and still hope for heaven.  But what it means is that when we ask for mercy and the eternal salvation that God desires for us, God will not withhold that from us.  God isn’t some despot who holds good things out to us but then does not grant them or hoards them for Himself.  No, He is our loving Father, who gives us all good gifts, even better than our earthly fathers do when we ask for something good.  Without presuming on God’s mercy, we can have confidence in His mercy and that God will do whatever lies within His power to save us.  The only thing not in His saving power?  Our willingness to accept it on God’s terms, not ours.  That is to say, there is no such thing as cheap grace where we receive God’s mercy but fail to repent with at least contrition.  
    So while you might have to turn a few extra pages to follow in the missal.  And while we repeat the same chants Sunday after Sunday after Christ the King, there is good reason for how the Church had set up these chants.  And they will help us to prepare for our end, and the return of Christ the King at the end of time, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Not Why, but What

Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
    Sometimes the way that God answers prayers doesn’t appear obvious.  Some people pray for a miraculous cure for their family member or friend and they get a miracle.  Other people say the same prayers and yet their loved one dies.  A natural disaster like a tornado or a hurricane demolishes one church, but another which is in the direct path has only minor damage.  Why?
    Some would like to attribute it to personal holiness.  And certainly being a friend of God, not only in name but also in deed, doesn’t hurt when asking God for a favor.  But that’s not what happened in the first reading.  The prophet Elijah went to Zarephath, which was a pagan town.  The widow he helped during the famine was not Jewish, but worshipped false gods.  Yet God answered her prayer for sustenance through Elijah, though many Jewish widows had to see their children die of starvation.  Jesus also speaks about how “there were many lepers in Israel during the time of Elisha the prophet; yet not one of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian.”  

    So how does God answer prayers?  Why do the prayers of some get heard, while others seemed to be ignored?  God never ignores prayers, but He doesn’t always answer them as we want.  And, to be honest, we don’t often know why He answers some prayers as people want, but not others as they want.  Why God allows good things to happen to bad people, and bad things to happen to good people is a conundrum we won’t know on this side of eternity.  Sometimes we do see that an answered prayer helps a non-believe believe, or that even a seemingly-unanswered prayer doesn’t shake the faith of one who believes in God, who accepts even a negative outcome gracefully.  But often, we don’t have the answer to why.
    So what do we do?  We ask a different question.  And that question is not “why?”, but “what?”.  What do we know?  We know that God loves us, and that, as St. Paul says, “all things work for the good of those who love God.”  Whatever God wills for us, and even whatever He allows us to undergo, helps us to be the saints that He wants us to be.  Sometimes what God wills and what God allows seems beneficial to us, like an unexpected raise, or recovery from an illness.  Sometimes what God allows does not seem so beneficial.  But He desires that everything we might undergo, even the tragic death of a loved one, would increase or faith, hope, and love in Him.
    We also know, as we hear in the second reading, that Christ is forever interceding for us to our heavenly Father.  Though He is also God, Christ stands in the heavenly Jerusalem, the sanctuary not made with hands, bringing our prayers, made in the power of the Holy Spirit, to God the Father.  Christ offers Himself, not in a bloody way, but in an unbloody way, to the Father, bringing our humanity to God throughout all time.  He offers Himself always so that our sins might be taken away, just as He offered, once for all, the perfect sacrifice on the cross for the salvation of all the world.  And Christ, who shares our human nature, always asks the Father to give us what we need for our sanctification.  
    During this month of November, which we began with the celebration of All Saints, we also know that all the saints plead with God for us and our needs.  They do so, not to change the will of God, but to submit our desires and our prayers to the will of God which is always for our good.  I often ask St. Anthony to help me or others find things that they have lost.  Or maybe you pray to St. Monica to ask God to give your children who have left the faith the openness to the grace to return to His Holy Church.  Or maybe you ask St. Joseph to intercede for a loved one who is terminally ill for the grace of a happy death.  Or whatever other desire you might have.  The saints cannot do anything but that which is in accord with the will of God.  But they always ask God that our desires might be aligned with His so that our faith, hope, and love will find more strength and resiliency.  
    Lastly, we know that God desires that we trust Him.  The poor widow who gave all the money that she had trusted that God would provide.  God doesn’t always ask for money, though we should support the Church financially, but He does always ask for the gift of our entire selves.  He wants all of us, not just parts of us.  He even wants the sinful parts of us, so that He can transform them by the power of his grace and mercy.  Just as Christ offers all of who He is to the Father in the Holy Spirit, so the Father desires that we offer all of who we are, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to Him.  And when we offer all of who we are, God offers all of who He is, which is a treasure beyond imagining, not in the sense the world uses treasure, but in the sense of the deepest longing of our hearts.  
    We don’t always know God’s ways.  We may never fully understand why some prayers are answered the way we want, but others God does not answer the way we want.  But we know that God loves us, that He always acts for our good and salvation, and that the best gift we can give God is the gift of ourselves, trusting in His will and plan for our salvation.  

Simply Complicated

Resumed Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

**NB: This is an expansion of the homily I gave at the 11 a.m. Ordinary Form Mass**

  

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  During my combined 13 years of post-high school education, I wrote a lot of papers on a lot of topics.  But the one thing that unified everything–from English and political science classes in undergrad, to theological papers in Major Seminary, to liturgical papers in my second Master’s degree after ordination–was that I tended to make things more complicated than they needed to be.  Apparently, St. Paul and I have the same writing style, where we like to cram a lot of ideas into one sentence, with various subordinate clauses and ideas.  
    When it comes to following the Lord, we, too, can complicate things.  Which is why it’s nice when either our Lord or St. Paul simplifies things (though the sentences St. Paul uses rarely are simple).  At the end of the day, being a Catholic and a disciple of Christ means loving God and loving our neighbor.  Nothing more; nothing less.  Living up to our call as baptized followers of Christ entails giving God His due, and giving our neighbor his or her due.  
    So why do we complicate things?  Why does the Church have all these teachings and all these rules if living as a disciple comes down to two basic rules?  Well, we tend to overcomplicate things, and in our complications, we can fail to see how certain actions detract from the love of God or the love of neighbor.  So the Church gives us a guide to help us to know how to live out the great commandment.
    To say we complicate things is, ironically, a gross simplification.  Our minds, operating under the shadow of sin, fail to comprehend how God calls us to love Him and love those whom He loves, that is, our neighbor.  I mean, in our own day, we can’t even understand what love is.  We use the word love for different things that are vastly different: I love my family; I love my spouse; I love my friends; I love that car; I love bourbon; I love tropical beaches; I love my dog.  We should not be loving all of those people and things in the same way!!  But love for a spouse is different than love for a sibling (at least it should be!), though we should love both.  And the way we enjoy objects like cars or bourbon or beaches or dogs is altogether a different action than the way we appreciate people.  Love, true love, means willing the good of the other when that other can return that love to you.  We can’t really love cars, or bourbon, or beaches, or (and I might be stoned for saying this) pets.  We can enjoy them, we can delight in them, they can give us pleasure.  But we cannot, strictly speaking, love them.
    So, we’re already struggling just to say what love is.  But now, we take the myriad examples of actions in our life, and we strive to connect it to love of God or love of neighbor.  What gets in the way of this is our desire to care for ourself first, to will our own good, rather than that of the other, be he God or neighbor.  I might know and express that I love God and should love Him.  But then when it’s a beautiful day for golf, or my favorite artist had a concert last night that kept me out really late, or my kid has a game in his or her travel league, suddenly my love of God and knowledge that I should worship Him, especially on Sundays, gets clouded by my own desire to recreate, to rest, to give my kid the opportunity to be a future professional athlete (however unlikely that may be).  
    Or, to take our epistle, how do we love our neighbor?  We can say, academically, perhaps even piously, that we should will the good of our neighbor.  But then our neighbor’s tree is dying and branches are falling on my side of the property line.  Or my neighbor cuts me off and slams on his breaks, almost causing me to get in a crash.  Or my co-worker has really odd habits and I feel I need to discuss it with all the other employees to validate my opinion.  Or my neighbor has a yard sign that suggests voting for someone who is, quite obviously, evil.  And all the sudden, love of neighbor is a good idea, theoretically, but in the real world we have to take care of ourselves first and make sure our neighbor knows that we are important and he should not mess with us.  
    I’ve used some pretty simple examples, but even in the complicated matters of life, it all comes down to love of God and love of neighbor.  Take in-vitro fertilization, or IVF.  Because we in the Church haven’t made it clear, many Catholics don’t see the problem with IVF.  After all, aren’t we supposed to be fruitful and multiply, as God commanded in the Garden of Eden?  Aren’t we supposed to be open to life?  So how is IVF not loving?  
    The church’s teaching on the sexual act, or anything like it, is based on the fact that God has made marital relations with three requirements to be good: not using another or out of force; unitive; and open to life.  IVF includes a break in that meaning of the sexual act.  First, it treats a child as a commodity, a good that one can pursue no matter what the cost.  Couples seeking IVF will often say that they deserve a child, rather than being open to it as a gift.  Also, IVF requires a man to spill his seed, which also involves using oneself to mimic the results of the marital act with another, or using another to achieve arousal.  IVF also requires a doctor to impregnate the woman, rather than how a child should be conceived, that is, with her husband in a loving and unitive act where they can give themselves freely to each other, not only in body, but also emotionally and spiritually.  Children, the Church says, have a right to be conceived in a loving act between a father and a mother, which also ends up being the best way to love a child and ensure its future success: with a loving mother and a loving father.  Further, IVF most often requires multiple fertilizations at the same time, because sometimes one fertilized egg will not take.  But that fertilized egg is a new human being, but it’s treated more like an object to be used to achieve an end.   If it doesn’t achieve that end, or gets in the way of another end, it is thrown away like garbage.  To throw away an innocent human being at one of the most defenseless moments of its life certainly does not demonstrate love of neighbor.  
    Again, our minds can focus on our own good, and can easily rationalize certain acts, when, at their heart, they do not really demonstrate love of neighbor.  So while following Christ comes down simply to loving God and loving our neighbor, we need a guide to help us know whether or not certain acts demonstrate true love.  But we don’t just have a guide, we have a mother, Holy Mother Church, who lovingly helps us to know what is good as God has communicated it, so that we can achieve our highest goal, and the result of loving God and loving neighbor in this world: eternal happiness in heaven, where God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen.