Faithful to the Covenant

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When it comes to family or friends, we probably have some sort of red line that, if crossed, would mean a break in that relationship.  For me, loyalty and honesty are two virtues that I insist on in order to maintain a friendship.  If I find out a person has lied to me, or has been disloyal, I find it very difficult to continue that friendship.  It may seem fine at the surface for a little while, but I tend to disengage that friendship until the friendship dies from lack of contact.
    Thanks be to God that our God does not operate in the same way!  God remains faithful to the covenant He entered upon, even when we don’t hold up our end of the bargain.  And, in fact, God outdoes Himself by not only upholding a covenant that we break time and time again, but even giving us a better covenant than we had at the beginning.
    St. Paul mentions in our epistle how God made a covenant with Abraham and to his seed.  What was that covenant?  In Genesis, chapter 15, God promised to be Abraham’s God and to give Abraham the land of Canaan, and to multiply Abraham’s descendants so that they would be as numerous as the stars in the sky.  God’s People were then to simply follow God and His will.  To enact this covenant, God asked Abraham to cut a three-year-old heifer, a three-year-old female goat, and a three-year-old ram in two, and then to sacrifice a turtledove and a young pigeons as well.  This action, sociologists tell us, was to signify the penalty if either party broke their side of the bargain: what happened to the animals (death) would happen to the one who broke the covenant.  As another sign, God commanded Abraham to be circumcised and to circumcise all the male descendants as a sign that they belonged to God.
    The first few generations did ok: Isaac, Jacob, and his twelve sons (though the twelve sons did try to kill their brother, but instead sold him into slavery into Egypt, which ended up saving the day).  But then the people, now enslaved in Egypt themselves, forgot the Lord.

    So God gives a new covenant, the Law, to instruct the people on how to be God’s Chosen People.  The blood of animals is sprinkled on them to join them all to the covenant and to again reaffirm that whoever breaks the covenant deserves death, and the people agree because God has saved them from slavery and from Pharaoh’s army at the Red Sea..  Before Moses has time to communicate this new law, they build a false god, a golden calf, and begin to worship it.  Fail.
    But God remains faithful to His covenant, and leads them to the Promised Land, even though they complain regularly that the food isn’t good, or that Moses has too much power, or that they’re going to die of thirst.  Time and time again, the people do not live up to their side of the covenant.  Even at the door of the Promised Land, the people lose faith that God can grant them entry and push out foreign armies, even though they had just destroyed a couple armies of pagan kingdoms, and so they have to wander in the desert for 40 more years.  
    But God remains faithful to His covenant, and gives them the Promised Land, displacing kingdoms and entire peoples.  But even then, the Chosen People follow false gods, then get into trouble, then are oppressed, then cry out to God.  And God saves them time and time again.
    God sends prophets to remind them to follow the law, to care for the poor and the orphans, to live justly and walk humbly with God.  But they always end up rejecting God and not living according to the covenant.  And while God does allow the consequences of their disobedience and idolatry to fall on them (like the exile and dispersion of the ten northern tribes and the destruction of the temple and the exile into Babylon of the two southern tribes), He remains faithful to His covenant, and sends a Messiah.  While the people expect an earthly Messiah to free them from Roman oppression, God provides a true Messiah who frees them from slavery to sin and death and opens up heaven.  God even takes upon Himself the punishment for infidelity to the covenant, though He was the only one who had remained faithful to the covenant, and did not deserve death.
    All of this is to say that God remains faithful in the midst of our infidelity.  God fulfills His promise even when we don’t.  And He does so to draw us back to Himself.  He lets the rain fall on the good and the bad, and the sun to shine on the just and the unjust in order to woo us back to Him, our Lover, so that we can enjoy the close relationship that He desires for us.
    As we look at the Gospel: only one leper returns to give thanks, and He’s outside this covenant.  But God doesn’t give the other nine leprosy again.  They are healed, even though they do not give thanks to God for the miracle they received.

    In our lives, are we like the nine or are we like the one?  God has given us so much, and we don’t deserve any of it.  We cannot claim any merit on our own, because we could not do anything good without God.  Every time we sin we walk away from the covenant, not just that to Abraham or Moses, but to the covenant sealed by the Precious Blood of the true Lamb of God, Jesus Christ, who offered His life, taking upon Himself the punishment that should have been ours for our infidelity.  God gives us so many good things, but do we give thanks to God for His fidelity?  Do we worship God wholeheartedly for forgiving us every time we ask in the Sacrament of Penance?  Do we do our best to avoid sin and breaking the covenant?  Yes, sometimes God does allow the consequences of our actions to fall upon us, but more often than not He is patient with us and does not give us what we deserve so that we can return to Him.  
    At one point, though, our ability to turn back to God will end.  When we die, we no longer have a chance to return to the covenant that Christ made with us in Holy Baptism.  If we, in the end, reject that covenant, then we will face the punishment of breaking the covenant: eternal death in Hell.  But if we turn back to God, if after the disease of sin has affected us and we ask God to heal us and we return to Him to thank Him for that healing, then we will receive the rewards of the covenant that we did not deserve, strictly speaking, but that God will grant to us as a merciful and loving Father: residence not simply in an earthly Promised Land, but eternal life in the true Promised Land of heaven.  May God’s patience with us allow us time to convert and do our best to be faithful to the covenant sealed in the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit are God, for ever and ever.  Amen.

Having a Beer with Jesus–Sacrament Edition

Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time–Christian Initiation of Adults/Confirmation

    In his song, “Beer with Jesus,” Thomas Rhett sings about what many a person would like to do: sit down and share an adult beverage with the Lord.  And, as the country music singer muses, he would ask Him numerous questions including: “Do you hear the prayers I send?”; “What happens when life ends?”; “What’s on the other side?”; “Is mom and daddy alright?”  As rational human beings we seek knowledge, we seek to understand.  And yet, as we heard in our first reading, “Who can know God’s counsel, or who can conceive what the Lord intends?”
    In humility we must acknowledge that we do not always know why God does what He does, nor do we always find an answer on this side of eternity.  Even if we did sit down and drink a beer with Jesus, there would probably be some things that He didn’t tell us, or He’d tell us not to worry about certain things because we don’t need to know some things, even when we think we do.
    But God has a plan, and He calls us to trust Him that His plan will bring about the best result.  This is where faith comes in, where we go along with God and His ways, even when we can’t make out how it makes sense.  And while God sometimes asks us simply to trust, He proves Himself worthy of that trust by what He did for us.  
    It would be odd for God to tell us that we have to take up our cross and follow Him, unless He took up His cross and followed the will of God, even when it meant extreme suffering and death.  And He proved, by His Resurrection, that though following God and trusting in His plan can mean great anguish, that anguish passes and a joy and life beyond all imagining follows.

    Today, as Raegan and Skyler receive all three Sacraments of Initiation, and as I receive Andrew into Full Communion with the Catholic Church, and as Andrew and Nico receive the Sacrament of Confirmation, we see how God’s ways do not always seem clear to us.  Wouldn’t it have been better if Raegan and Skyler were baptized as infants and grew up in the faith?  Wouldn’t it have been better if Andrew were born into the Catholic faith?  Wouldn’t it have been better if Nico had been confirmed as a youth?  At this point, all we can say is that was not part of God’s plan.  Only God knows why, but this was the way, from all eternity, that God would grant different forms of sanctifying grace to all four of these young women and men.
    We see this in the second reading, as we hear about Onesimus, a slave, who befriended Paul and became a Christian through baptism, and his owner, Philemon.  Slavery is not good.  Philemon certainly thought that Onesimus running away was not good.  And yet, God used all of that as Onesimus met St. Paul and came to know Christ Jesus so that Onesimus could return to Philemon, himself a Christian, as a brother in Christ, rather than a slave.  The path didn’t make sense until you saw the ending, and then it made all the sense in the world.
    The same could be said for the crucifixion.  Jesus said today that His disciples would need to carry their cross.  We lose how startling that phrase would have been because we have accustomed ourselves to the cross.  But that phrase certainly scandalized the first hearers.  And it would have continued to scandalize them, if not for the fact that Christ Himself took up not just a metaphorical cross, but an actual cross, a literal cross (to use the word literal correctly), to prove His love for us.  And while Good Friday didn’t seem to make any sense at the time, on Easter Sunday we came to see that crucifixion in a new light: that God redeemed suffering and death and conquered it by Jesus’ Resurrection.
    Raegan, Skyler, Andrew, and Nico, to quote the character Saruman from “Lord of the Rings,” “So you have chosen death.”  You have each chosen to take up your cross, your means of suffering and pain, and follow Christ.  You have chosen to make His way your own, whether through a first choice of baptism, through your entrance into Full Communion with the Catholic Church, or through your reception of the Sacrament of Confirmation.  But in choosing to die with Christ, or deepening how you die with Christ, you have also chosen life.  Because when we take up our cross with Christ, He also grants us the resurrection.  
    And you each will taste the fruits of that Paschal Mystery–the Passion, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of the Lord–in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist that you will receive for the first time today.  That will be your reminder of what God has done for you.  That will be your strength to help you carry your cross.  That will be your foretaste of victory as you eat Eternal Life.  
    And while we don’t know why God allowed you on the longer path that has brought you to today, we trust that it is the best plan, and that your witness of receiving these sacraments will continue to bring about great good in the Church.  May God strengthen each of you in your pilgrimage towards heaven, and may we all carry our daily crosses according to the sometimes mysterious plan of God, so that we may one day enter into Eternal Life.

Having a Beer with Jesus

Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    In his song, “Beer with Jesus,” Thomas Rhett sings about what many a person would like to do: sit down and share an adult beverage with the Lord.  And, as the country music singer muses, he would ask Him numerous questions including: “Do you hear the prayers I send?”; “What happens when life ends?”; “What’s on the other side?”; “Is mom and daddy alright?”  As rational human beings we seek knowledge, we seek to understand.  And yet, as we heard in our first reading, “Who can know God’s counsel, or who can conceive what the Lord intends?”
    In humility we must acknowledge that we do not always know why God does what He does, nor do we always find an answer on this side of eternity.  Even if we did sit down and drink a beer with Jesus, there would probably be some things that He didn’t tell us, or He’d tell us not to worry about certain things because we don’t need to know some things, even when we think we do.
    But God has a plan, and He calls us to trust Him that His plan will bring about the best result.  This is where faith comes in, where we go along with God and His ways, even when we can’t make out how it makes sense.  And while God sometimes asks us simply to trust, He proves Himself worthy of that trust by what He did for us.  
    It would be odd for God to tell us that we have to take up our cross and follow Him, unless He took up His cross and followed the will of God, even when it meant extreme suffering and death.  And He proved, by His Resurrection, that though following God and trusting in His plan can mean great anguish, that anguish passes and a joy and life beyond all imagining follows.
    So many people will ask the question, “Why does a good God allow good people to suffer?”  Or, “How can there be evil in the world if God is good?”  The only answer we have is that free will, which allows us to love God, also allows us to disobey God and cause great pain and suffering to others.  Robots and pets cannot truly love because they cannot truly choose.  And a person feeling affection for us without having a choice doesn’t feel good at all or affirm that it is good that we exist.  To use a very recent and probably still raw example, the same free will which allows a very confused man to shoot at a school Mass in Minneapolis, also allows a student to lay on top of his younger schoolmate so that any bullets don’t hit the younger student.  “Greater love has no man than this, to lay down his life for his friend.”  But love can only exist where free will exists.
    But rather than asking why evil exists, for us as Catholics I would argue we gain more by asking what God does with suffering.  What does God do in the face of the cross?  He endures it with us.  He shows us that He will never abandon us when the going gets tough.  Where was God in Minneapolis?  He was with the students, giving some courage to put their own lives on the line, even though they can’t even drive a car or vote.  He was present with the teachers, helping them to use their training and give instructions and provide as much calm as they could so that their students could be as safe as possible.  He was there with the students who died, mourning that their lives had to be cut so short and that a person would misuse free will in such a way as to bring unbearable pain and sorrow to the families who now bury their children.  He was there with the parents, wondering if their child was alive or mourning the loss of their own flesh and blood.  Never did God say that the suffering was too much for Him to remain.  Never did God shy away from that pain and heartache.  He was there, on His cross, suffering in Minneapolis as He suffered on Calvary for the salvation of the world.

    And just as Christ brought the Resurrection from all the evil, hate, and sin that was thrown at Him on the cross, so He will bring a resurrection from Minneapolis and from every evil that happens at every moment in every place around the world.  Somehow, God will cause greater good, not at the expense of the innocent, but transforming a privation of good, that which we call evil, into an overflowing of good, so that even though evil thinks it wins, it ends up in defeat, no matter what evil does or how hard it strives to find victory.  As St. Paul says elsewhere, “Where, O death, is your victory?”  
    And the fact that God brings good out of evil should cause us consolation, because we, all too often, perpetrate evil.  We, all too often, misuse our free will in private or in public, but because all sin is communal, we weaken the entire Body of Christ by our rejection of God, no matter how big or how little a sin we commit.  But God can use our rejection of Him to bring about great goods, even if that good is simply our own conversion as we repent of our sinful deeds and turn back to the Lord to strive, by His grace, to choose good and build back up the Body of Christ.
    Certainly, it would be cool to have a beer, or bourbon, with Jesus.  We would likely have some questions which Jesus may or may not answer, not to hide stuff, but because we really don’t need to know.  But what we do know is God’s love for us, because He proved it on the cross, and makes present in an unbloody manner that same sacrifice as we celebrate this Mass.  May our worthy reception of Holy Communion strengthen us in choosing the good, and strengthen our trust in God’s plan, even when it seems so mysterious to us.

American Pie, the Letter, and the Spirit

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Don McLean produced a hit 8 minutes and 42 seconds long called “American Pie.”  And while most red-blooded Americans know the song, and maybe have even sung it at a karaoke bar, I imagine that as generations get further and further from its release in 1971, fewer and fewer people know that the song, which is mostly upbeat, speaks about the loss of innocence in America, beginning with the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper in 1959.  
    As we heard the Gospel today, we heard about the Pharisee who stood as far removed from the Law of Moses as many young people do today from “American Pie.”  The Pharisee knew the words.  He knew the right answer that the two greatest laws to uphold included the love of God with all of one’s self and the love of neighbor as oneself.  But he didn’t know the deeper meaning.  

    And so Christ has to give him a parable to talk about love of neighbor and how love of neighbor is demonstrated.  The Samaritan, the one outside the law, actually demonstrated love of neighbor, rather that the priest or the Levite.  Those who should have known the law the best, and certainly its deeper meaning, practiced the law the least, and become the bad guys in the parable.  The one who had no direct access to the law, because his people had abandoned the law when they intermarried with the local pagans, lived the law of loving one’s neighbor as oneself, even sacrificing his own money to care for the robbery and assault and battery victim, though the neighbor in this case was a stranger.
    There can be a challenge for us as Catholics, and Catholics probably better educated that in any century before.  If you want to know what the Church teaches on any issue, simply Google it.  I understand there’s even a Catholic AI that can help synthesize the Church Fathers, Doctors of the Church, and Magisterial documents to answer questions.  But are we like the Pharisee, who knows the right answer, but lack the gift of understanding to know how to put that knowledge into practice?  
    Many will refer to the practice and the deeper reality of what God has revealed as the spirit.  We hear that dichotomy today from the epistle between the spirit and the letter.  The spirit gives life, while the letter kills.  Sometimes this dichotomy is used to advance things which are patently contrary to the letter by placing it under the spirit of the law.  Some will say, for example, that while St. Paul clearly teaches that those who obstinately practice homosexual actions cannot inherit the kingdom of heaven (and notice that the actions separate us from God, not necessarily the disordered affection), that because our Lord taught us to love people, we cannot say that homosexual activity is wrong, because St. Paul was referring to the letter of the law, while the desire to let people love whomever they want to love (to use their phrase, not our understanding of true love) is part of the spirit of the law.
    But, that’s like saying that we can’t say adultery is wrong simply because Christ loves the person who commits that sin against the sixth commandment, and would never want to condemn that person.  Christ doesn’t want to condemn that person, but that person does have to choose the good that God has revealed, which is part and parcel of how God made us.  
    The spirit of the law does not mean anything goes.  But it does mean we have to look more deeply than the surface.  There’s a difference between looking beyond and looking more deeply.  To look beyond means that we ignore what we have received.  To look more deeply means to investigate how what we have received can be more fully understood.  It is the difference between changing a teaching (looking beyond) and legitimate development of doctrine (looking more deeply).  
    I think one good example of this is the more nuanced teaching of the Church on suicide.  The Church has taught, and in some cases will always teach, that taking one’s own life means committing a grave sin.  God clearly states in the Scriptures that He is the author of life, and the only one who can legitimately end an innocent life (though sometimes people have to end lives in the interest of defense of self, family, friends, or country without sin).  However, we have come to understand the complexity of a human mind that thinks that the best way to ease the psychological pain that he or she undergoes is to take his or her own life.  In some cases, and really the full knowledge of what is going on only God knows, a person is not free to make a choice because of chemical imbalances in the brain.  And, as we know, if a person cannot freely choose an action, no matter how grave it is, it cannot be a mortal sin.  So when a person commits suicide, unless we know it was made with a clear mind, we have some doubt as to how culpable that person was for an objectively evil action.  
    This is also what makes assisted suicide, also known as euthanasia, so horrible.  If people of any age feel that their lives have no value (and often times society tells them they have no purpose if they can’t be fully active or somehow benefit society), they are vulnerable to depression and rejection, and a doctor or nurse who comes to them to help them kill themselves takes advantage of that depression in an action which does not admit, generally, of repentance because of its finality; once completed you don’t get a do-over.  On the one hand, the Church reminds us that if we undergo euthanasia or assisted suicide and we know what we’re doing, we don’t know how that person could go to heaven, and that person would be denied anointing of the sick beforehand, and a Catholic funeral afterwards.  However, only God knows fully the mind, and so we also need to not presume omniscience and have some understanding for a person who may have dealt with mental illness in some form while trying to make the decision, especially if it was more encouraged by those who swore an oath to do no harm.
    The face value of the law and the commandments is not always the final word.  We don’t go beyond what God has revealed for our moral life, as if there are no moral absolutes or as if God’s teaching always changes with cultural adaptations.  However, we do need to go deeper to better understand the full implications of what God has revealed of how we are to love our neighbor and how we are to love God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

The Stink of Death

Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time–Third Scrutiny

    In my first four years as a priest, I worked very closely with our parish school in East Lansing.  I enjoyed interacting with the kids in the classroom, teaching them from time to time, playing on the playground with them, and rewarding them for paying attention during Mass with smarties, and hopefully they came to connect to Christ more closely through me.
    When the warmer temperatures started coming in May, the fifth grade class in particular became a little gamey, as some kids started to get more body odor, but hadn’t quite realized that they needed to start wearing deodorant yet.  God bless their teachers for having to firmly, yet gently, tell the kids that they needed to bathe or shower every day and needed to wear deodorant.  The effects were noticeable when put into practice.
    In the Gospel today for the third scrutiny, we hear about a stench.  The stench is from a man who had been dead in a tomb for four days, a smell even worse than 5th grade b.o.  While I’ve been around dead bodies in my work with the Michigan State Police, I haven’t had to go into a house that had a dead body discovered after a long time.  So I don’t have a personal experience with that particular odor.  But I know it’s not pleasant.
    When we think about what God wants to do with you, Skyler and Raegan, as your prepare for your baptism next week, some might think about it like throwing deodorant on.  Nothing changes, but you don’t smell it because you mask it with other scents.  In fact, Martin Luther, who separated himself and led to a great division from the Catholic Church, referred to humans and the process of justification as snow-covered dung.  We’re the dung; grace is the snow.  We’re still bad, but God covers us up so that you can only see the pure white of snow.

    But that’s not what God does with Lazarus, and that’s now what God says He will do through the prophet Ezekiel, and that’s not what St. Paul says that God has done for us thanks to the Resurrection of Christ.  Jesus does not spray perfume on Lazarus but leave him dead.  He gives Lazarus new life, calls him out of the tomb, and removes the stench of death from him.  God provides a new reality for Lazarus, not a slight upgrade on his current condition (which was dead).
    And that’s what God will do for you.  The call to follow Christ, especially as an adult, means a call to a new form of life, not just a modified way of your current life.  You stink (not physically)!!  You stink because you are dead in your sins!!  But Christ does not want you to be dead.  Christ wants you to be alive in Him through the working of the Holy Spirit, who, after you are baptized, will dwell within you as God dwelt in the Temple.  You cannot make yourself alive.  And no matter how much perfume you put on a dead body, it still remains dead and will stink.  But God will take away the stink and make you alive in Him so that your can flourish.  
    In this, God fulfills the word He spoke through the Prophet Ezekiel: “I will open our graves and have you rise from them…I will put my spirit within you that you may live…thus you shall know that I am the Lord.  I have promised, and I will do it, says the Lord.”  God will give you new life through Baptism, Confirmation, and the Eucharist so that you can live primarily for Him, even as you live your human life.  
    Yet, our temptation, and this is true for me and all those who are baptized here in the church, is to return to the tomb.  Even though God has freed us from the death that comes from sin, we foolishly seek to return to the tomb and return to the stench.  Sometimes we are like dogs who just had a bath, only to go outside and roll around in our own dung.  We forget just what a great gift we have received from God in our new life, and go back to stinking and death because it’s what we have known.  We’re so overwhelmed with death that we can be like Mary, who sits at home still mourning her brother’s passing, while Martha goes out to Jesus and makes her profession of faith that He is the Resurrection and the Life.  
    But only when we put our faith in Jesus can we see new life given to us.  Only when we realize that we cannot save ourselves can God raise us to new life so that we don’t stink.  In this scrutiny, we ask God one final time before your baptism to put away from you any works of death that will not allow you to receive His new life.  We one more time have these minor exorcisms where the Holy Spirit drives from you anything that does not help you prepare for the new life of Holy Baptism.  
    And in praying for you, we, the church assembled here, also remember that God does not call us to live in the tomb.  God does not want us to stink.  He wants to have us bathe so that we are truly clean, not snow covered dung, and rely on the graces that come from baptism, or receive the cleansing of the second baptism, the Sacrament of Penance (often called confession).
    God is about to do a great work in you, Skyler and Raegan.  He won’t just put deodorant or perfume on you.  He won’t even hit you with an Axe bomb like a middle schooler.  He will wash you clean, not only to smell with the odor of sanctity, but truly to give you new life, to transform you by the power of His grace.  May this last scrutiny help you prepare fully for the new life God will grant you next week, as He calls you out of the tomb, unbinds the bands of sin from your bodies, and makes you both a temple of the Holy Spirit.

You're So Vain

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When it comes to ironic songs, certainly one of the top ten is “You’re So Vain,” by Carly Simon.  She spends an entire song talking about a particular person, only to repeat in the refrain time and time again, “You’re so vain / You probably think this song is about you.”  While Carly has revealed to a select few whom the song was written about, there is still widespread speculation about the person who’s so vain.
    When it comes to the virtue of humility, if you think the readings are about you and how to grow in humility, they probably are.  In the end, we all need to grow in the virtue of humility.  Pride is the one sin that we probably will all need to work on until we die, though maybe we have others as well.  
    And, ironically, the virtue of humility helps us to realize that life is not, in the end, about us.  Pride seeks to replace God with our own ego, our own self.  St. Thomas Aquinas teaches us that the original sin consisted of pride: “man’s first sin consisted in coveting some spiritual good above his measure: and this pertains to pride.”  We know the story about the serpent testing Eve, and convincing her that if she ate of the fruit, she would be like God, which enticed her to disobey God’s command not to eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.  Adam followed suit, probably with Eve telling Adam exactly what the serpent told him.  
    Pride can be so insidious because we do have legitimate personal needs upon which we should focus.  It’s legitimate to focus on our need for food and drink; clothing; housing; friendship.  Yet we can twist all those things so that our desire for them becomes inordinate as we convince ourselves that, because of how important we are, we only eat and drink the best.  Or because of our status we cannot shop for clothing at regular stores, but have to only wear Banana Republic or Burberry.  Or if we don’t have a big enough house, the neighbors won’t recognize how well we’re doing.  Or that everyone should like me because, well, what’s not to like?  
    Humility consists, the Angelic Doctor says, in tempering and restraining the mind from focusing on high things immoderately against right reason.  It does not seek after honors or things beyond the greatness to which God calls us as His children.  It allows God to be God, rather than trying to take His place and control all things according to our desires.  

St. Benedict 

    St. Benedict, the great Patriarch of Western Monasticism and founded of the Benedictine Order, lists twelve degrees of humility.  Don’t worry, there’s not a test on memorizing them, but they will be available at my blog, which has all my homilies, and which you can access at the parish website.
    The twelve degrees are, in descending order: “that a man fear God and bear all his commandments in mind”; “by not following one’s own will”; regulating one’s will according to the judgement of a superior; not begin deterred from good actions because of difficulties and hardships; acknowledging one’s own shortcomings; “deeming oneself incapable of great things”; putting others before oneself; “that in one’s work one should not depart from the ordinary way”; not being in a hurry to speak; not overly laughing or being too cheerful; not being “immoderate in speech”; and “restraining haughty [or arrogant] looks.  Again, it might be good to go back to this homily, or simply do a Google search for St. Benedict and the Twelve Degrees of Humility to help us in examining our conscience.  Honestly, as I read through that list, I could probably check off mostly all of them as ways that I need to grow in humility.
    The great thing is that humility allows God to exalt us in a more perfect way.  If we really desire to be great, then we need to serve greatly and humble ourselves, because, as our Lord tells us, “every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”  And to be clear, Jesus is not telling us to act humble so that God can exalt us, but truly to be humble.

Bl. Solanus Casey

    We see this in the lives of the saints.  First and foremost, in the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who sought after no special privileges, but became the Mother of God.  Or St. André Bessette, who was a simple porter, or doorman, at a religious house in Quebec, but became knows as the Miracle Man of Montreal.  Or our own Bl. Solanus Casey, who was only ordained a priest simplex, meaning he could not preach or hear confessions, but whose fame because widespread across the US for the miracles worked through his intercession, even while alive.  None of these sought after fame or miraculous powers, but simply sought to be the person God wanted them to be, and because of that focus on God and doing His will, God elevated them.
    I can tell you that if you don’t think you need to grow in humility, then this homily is about you.  And if you know you need to grow in humility, then you at least recognize the insidious nature of pride.  Through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, St. André Bessette, and Bl. Solanus Casey, may be put God first in our lives and work for His exaltation, rather than our own.  In all things, may God be glorified!

Doing All Things Well

Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As a perfectionist, I would likely love to hear people say about me: “He has done all things well.”  Generally speaking, I think I try to do all things well.  
    Of course, as far as I know, I haven’t been able to make the deaf hear and the mute speak, which is why the crowds praised the Lord.  But did the Lord doing things well because of the physical miracle that He worked?  Or could we see something deeper in the reality that He did things well?
    At the end of the day, what the Lord did well entailed following God’s will.  Yes, this happened in the macro scale, of proclaiming the Gospel and going towards the offering of His life for our salvation.  St. Paul references this in the epistle as he gives the heart of the kerygma.  The Apostle reminds us that Christ died for our sins, was buried, rose on the third day, and then appeared to the Apostles and many disciples, and lastly to St. Paul himself.
    But it also happened in the day-to-day moments, like the one in the Gospel today with the healing.  The first thing to note is that Christ was not in Jewish territory.  He was in the Decapolis, which was pagan territory.  Yes, He was passing through, but the will of God led Him to foreign lands, not just Jewish territory.  And this pagan land the crowds brought Him the deaf and mute man, no doubt having heard about some of the wonders that Christ had done.
    Following God’s will also included being very earthy.  It wasn’t as if the Savior simply said, as He did other times, “I do will it,” and then heal the malady.  In accord with the will of God Christ puts His fingers into the man’s ears, spits, touches the man’s tongue, groans, and says “Ephpheta,” which means “be opened.”  If you had to go me putting my fingers in your ears, spitting, and touching your tongue for Extreme Unction, it probably would be even rarer than it is used today.  But that’s what God wanted our Lord to do (and, to be clear, I don’t do that for Extreme Unction).  Beyond the actual touch, it concerned the day-to-day aspects of life, not a sanitized ideal of life that doesn’t connect to the world in which we live.
    So for us, doing all things well means simply following God’s will, not just in the overarching themes of our lives, but in the day-to-day realities of our lives.  On the one hand, we should be seeking God’s will for our major decisions.  Does God want me to be a priest, a religious sister, or married?  Does God want me to study for this diocese or that, or should I join this religious order or the other one, or should I marry this person or that one?  How do I make a gift of my life to the Lord who has given me everything?
    On the other hand, God’s will often manifests itself in quotidian ways.  Does God want me to stay up late the night before Mass and spend that time with friends?  How will that affect my ability to pray and concentrate during Mass?  Which way do I take for my drive to work?  How do I greet the first co-worker I see?  When my child asks to play after I get home from work and am exhausted, can I give what little I have left, or would it be better to take a little break so that I don’t snap out of fatigue?  

    Those are all ways that we can open ourselves to God’s will and do things well.  And that’s the way we become a saint.  I think we can often feel like being a saint happen simply by choosing the right vocation, or by doing something great for God.  But what did St. Thérèse, the Little Flower, teach us?  What makes a difference is not so much doing great things, but doing little things with great love.  When we make even our small choices based upon a great love for doing what God wants, we do things well, and allow God to perfect us by His grace.  Certainly, we still need to make sure that we are seeking God’s will through prayer and counsel as we discern to what vocation God calls us.  But it can be so easy to write God off in those smaller moments of the day, and He wants to be involved in our life in those ways, too.
    So this week, think of ways that you can open yourself to the will of God.  Do you pray each day that God make His will clear to you?  When you pray the Our Father, perhaps really slow down at the phrase, “Thy will be done.”  We can, like Christ, do things well when we allow God to work through us, even when it doesn’t come naturally to us or we’re put in situations that seem a bit foreign.  May others see the grace of God at work in our lives, and observe that we have done all things well.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.   

Right Place, Right Time

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time–Second Scrutiny

    As many of you know, Buffalo Trace Distillery is one of my favorite places to visit in the US.  Two different times I have been there at what I would call “just the right time.”  The first time I was visiting around 11 a.m. just to see what Buffalo Trace had for the day.  I had found all the special bourbon that I wanted, along with a few other bar accessories, and was in the check-out line, when someone mentioned that they had just put out a very special bottle of bourbon.  I was allowed to leave the line to get said bottle, which was an experimental bourbon Buffalo Trace released, and which I have never seen anywhere else.  A second time, on our Basilicas and Bourbon Pilgrimage, after our tour I went back to the gift shop, though I had already visited it earlier before our tour to pick up any of the special bottles I sought.  Sure enough, they had just put out another very special bottle of bourbon called the Single Oak Project.  Twice I was in the right place at the right time to score a special bottle of bourbon to add to my collection.
    In our Gospel, the man born blind also finds himself in the right place at the right time.  There’s no evidence he sought out Jesus, but Jesus and the disciples walk past him, and ask whether the blindness served as a punishment for the man’s sins or the sins of his parents.  But Jesus uses the opportunity to heal the man, in a very earthy way.  

Statue of David in Jerusalem

    In a similar way, David never sought to be king.  In fact, Samuel, one of God’s great prophets, thought that David’s other brothers would be good kings.  But God did not choose the greatest king of Israel based upon appearance.  And so David, who did not seek the position of king, ends up receiving the rule of the land of Israel.
    Skyler, I imagine if I would have known you and asked you ten years ago if you had any desire to join the Catholic Church, you would have said no.  But God sought you out and, with the help of others, piqued your interest in the Catholic Church, which has brought you to today and your upcoming baptism.  Through new connections with others, you were in the right place at the right time to hear God’s call that He makes to every person: to join the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church.  
    And it is this relationship with Jesus that will help you see the world more clearly.  We all have blind spots in our lives, things that we don’t notice, or sometimes even that we choose not to see because admitting that we see could be painful and necessitate change, which always seems difficult.  Our world often proposes that happiness comes from having power over others, having large amounts of money, and ever-increasing varieties of physical pleasure.  But Christ shows us that true happiness comes from laying down our life for another, being poor in spirit so that we recognize our dependence on God, and that while physical pleasure like the taste of a good meal or good bourbon, or the embrace of a loved one, is good, it cannot be the goal of our life, because we are made for more than just what this world provides.
    And while this transition can feel difficult, which is why we have a ritual before you are baptized to pray over you and ask God to strengthen you to leave behind in you all that is fallen, we do gain true liberation and joy from living more and more for God each day.  And as you open yourself up to God more and more, you find that you are in the right place at the right time, and actually become yourself a conduit of God’s grace and action, just as others helped draw you in, Skyler, to the Catholic faith.
    Today is also special for Xavier, who will be making his First Holy Communion today.  Xavier, you are also in the right place at the right time, as the anniversary of your baptism is just in a few days, and we remember your baptism as you carried the candle in procession with us.  Today, Xavier, you get to receive Jesus into you in a very special way, in a way closer than you’ll ever be to Jesus until you make it to heaven.  Jesus loves you so much that He doesn’t want anything to keep you from being united to Him, and He wants to strengthen you with spiritual food that will continue to help you choose Jesus and do what He would do. 
    And while I’m sure there are days where you wish you could be an adult and do all the cool things that adults get to do, today Skyler, a young adult, is actually wishing she could be you, because you will receive the Eucharist today and Skyler will have to wait two more weeks until she is baptized and gets to receive Holy Communion for the first time.  
    But God has called both of you, Skyler and Xavier, and all of us, my brothers and sisters in Christ, to allow Him to put us into perfect place at the perfect time.  Sometimes it benefits us, like the man born blind.  Sometime it also benefits others, like when God chose David to be king.  But may we all seek docility to the will of God to allow us to glorify God in every circumstance.

Distinction without Jealousy

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  One of the great gifts of the human mind is the ability to distinguish one thing from another.  We (generally speaking) see different colors, different shapes, different textures, etc.  Our senses give us distinctions in sounds or tastes or smells.  And we find some shapes, colors, smells, tastes, etc., more appealing than others.  
    But with this great gift comes a certain danger: the desire to have what others have.  We see something we like, and we notice that we don’t have it, and we want it, either simply to have, or perhaps even that the other person be deprived of that good.  We see this all the time with kids: two children have their own toys, but for whatever reason, one child wants the toy that the other has, and perhaps the other doesn’t want to share right away.  Or maybe you find yourself getting the same toy for both children simply to try to avoid that conflict in the first place.
    We call this desire for some other good (or perhaps other person) jealousy when it exists by itself, and envy when we seek to deprive another of that good so that we can have it.  It includes a certain pride or presumption that we know best what we should have or if another should have it.  
    Now, there is nothing wrong with wanting to have a certain excellence.  In the earthly realm, we might see a bigger house and think how nice it would be to have more rooms for all the children.  Or we might work hard to make sure that we can afford, along with the basic necessities of life and basic charitable given, some fun things or some vacation time.  
    But, we tend not to stop at simply things that we can strive to achieve for the betterment of our lives but move on to things that we don’t really need.  I think this can especially be a challenge for a couple of generations of young adults who have grown up with great wealth from their financially very successful parents and grandparents.  Using my own family as an example, we grew up with a nice house, always getting pretty much any food that we wanted, having an RV of some sort for the camping trips we would take many weekends in the summer, and occasional trips to other States.  And yet, one of my parents grew up in a one-income families, with one car, and my mom’s family took one main vacation per year, and that was driving down to Texas in a station wagon without air conditioning for a week to see my grandfather’s family while the GM plant was being retooled for the next production year.  But if I would have started on my own rather than going to seminary, I can see how I would have wanted exactly what my parents had as adults, rather than what they experienced as children.  As a very affluent society, we should remember that we often have more than we need, and it may take some time as young couple start out to have all the niceties that they remember from their own childhoods.

    But it can also happen spiritually.  And St. Paul in the epistle reminds us that there are many gifts.  That same observation of differences can lead one to become jealous or even envious of other’s spiritual gifts.  We notice virtues that others demonstrate, or maybe even some special spiritual gifts like healing, or maybe spiritual insight, or they’re family looks pious all the time, and we get jealous because we work hard at that virtue but never seem to make progress.  Or we don’t have any special gifts that we can tell that are demonstrated with others.  Or our family doesn’t simply walk quietly into the pew and kneel down to pray.  And yes, it can be good to work towards virtue and try to help our family recognize the special nature of a church building and appropriate behavior in it, but we shouldn’t be jealous of what others have spiritually.  And, for the record, sometimes kids, any kids, are just rambunctious.  I’d rather have a lot of kids with the noise they bring than no kids and pristine silence.  We’re happy to have your children here, even if sometimes you feel like they’re a distraction.
    Others preach better than I, or better administrate parishes than I, or envision new possibilities more creatively than I.  But those are their gifts, not mine.  I do the best I can with what God has given me and use those gifts, whatever they are, for His glory and the building up of the Church.  God doesn’t want me to focus on others’ gifts, except to praise Him for giving those gifts to those He decided needed those gifts for the building up of the Church.  God wants me to praise Him for the gifts I have, in whatever measure, and use them as best as I can to build up the Church.  Perhaps someone else looks at me and admires what God is doing through my gifts, just as I look at others and admire what God is doing through their gifts.  But the key is not to become jealous or envious.  

    St. Augustine wrote, “I tell you again and again, my brethren, that in the Lord’s garden are to be found not only the roses of his martyrs.  In it there are also the lilies of the virgins, the ivy of wedded couples, and the violets of widows.  On no account may any class of people despair, thinking that God has not called them.”  God calls each of us to a beauty in His kingdom which compliments each other.  We distinguish different types of beauty, but each beautiful thing adds to the overall beauty that God desires.
    So while we notice differences as part and parcel of being human, do not let the notice of others lead you towards jealousy or envy.  Rather, recognize what great things God is doing in both them and you, each with your own gifts, to build up His kingdom.  Where He lives and reigns, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Looking for Love at a Well

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time–First Scrutiny

    While our elect are not old enough to have seen this movie, or maybe even heard of it (and, to be honest, I wasn’t even born when it came out), one of the top movies in 1980 was “Urban Cowboy,” starring John Travolta and Debra Winger.  IMDB gives the following synopsis: “Bud Davis is a country boy who moves to the city to visit his uncle and his family. He starts hanging out at Gilley's, the popular nightclub owned by Mickey Gilley himself. He takes a job at the oil refinery where his uncle works, hoping to save enough money to buy some land. He also meets a cowgirl named Sissy, they dance together and fall in love. When a bull-riding contest at Gilley's is announced, Bud decides to sign up. Can he win the contest?”  And one of the hit songs from that hit movie, which has continued its popularity through the past 45 years is “Looking For Love,” most famously sung by Johnny Lee.
    The first verse and refrain say, “Well, I spent a lifetime lookin’ for you, / Single bars and good time lovers were never true. / Playin’ a fool’s game, hopin’ to win, / And tellin’ those sweet lies and losin’ again. // I was lookin’ for love in all the wrong places / Lookin’ for love in too many faces / Searchin’ their eyes / Lookin’ for traces of what I’m dreaming of. / Hoping to find a friend and a lover / I’ll bless the day I discover another heart / Lookin’ for love.”  
    The Gospel passage of the Samaritan woman at the well is precisely the story of a woman looking for love in all the wrong places.  She has had five husbands, and the man she’s with now is not her husband.  But in her encounter with Jesus, she finally finds true love, a love that doesn’t give her a lesson in leavin’, to quote another country song.
    Raegan, you, and Skyler, who will be baptized with you, have been searching not for an earthly love, though you both have also found that, but for a love that is not of this world.  God created you in love and has sustained you in love since your conception.  He has wanted to be in a deep and loving relationship with you which you began as you were welcomed into the Order of Catechumens some months ago.  And now God prepares you for the culmination of your preparation, and the beginning of a new life as His adopted child through Holy Baptism, which you will receive in a few short weeks.  

    Like with the Samaritan woman, this has been a dialogue between you and Jesus.  Over these next two weeks as we celebrate the scrutinies, the Lord will invite you to put behind you all the false lovers of your past who have not given you true happiness, or the distractions which have kept you from the deep trust that the Lord desires for all His children.  I will ask, after the homily, the Holy Spirit to put away from you all that is fallen, so that you can be truly prepared for the indwelling of God and His grace that will happen at your baptism.
    And once you are baptized, you will have a spring of living water welling up inside you, a source of continuing grace that is meant to refresh and strengthen you, just as water refreshes and strengthens us, especially in the heat of the day, when the rays of temptation oppress us the most.  But unlike a well, to which we have to return again and again, this water will truly be inside you (though the waters of baptism will be poured on your head on the outside) so that all you will need to do is go to you inner room, where Christ is, to deepen you communion with Him.  
    While the day of your baptism is a big day, and certainly a cause of celebration, baptism continues day after day, so you are not just pledging yourself to God for a day, but for a lifetime.  Jesus changed the Samaritan woman’s entire life, and Jesus wants to change your entire life, taking away from you all that is fallen, and increasing your joys and walking with you in the midst of sorrows so that you do not carry those burdens alone.  
    And like the Samaritan woman, your responsibility given to you with this great gift of new life in Christ through baptism, will be to tell and show others just what God has done for you so that they, too, can believe.  Your new life, lived for Christ each day, will speak to others about the importance of the spring of water welling up inside you, and the importance of doing your best to abandon those distractions and false lovers who promise you true joy but can only deliver momentary pleasure.  
    And we, your parish, are happy to walk with you, not only through these scrutinies and in your baptism, but also in the weeks, months, and years ahead where we will also help each other to abandon our false lovers, the sins that we turn to when we turn away from God.  Just as your witness rejuvenates us, so we hope that our witness will help strengthen you as we all walk towards the springs of eternal life in heaven.  May God strengthen you through your holy resolve, and help you to find love in all the right places.  

Verso l'alto! The Exercise of the Gospel

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    An object at rest stays at rest.  This is Newton’s first law of motion.  And it’s not only true for things.  It’s true for people.  A resting person doesn’t like to have to get active if at all possible.  A few years ago I saw an ad for a belt that you put around your abs with little electrodes that shock you.  The idea is that the electrodes would simulate exercise, and would strengthen your abs so you can get that six-pack look, rather than the pony keg that is all too common.  Or I recently saw a reel that said if you just do this stretch for 30 days in a row, you will lose that beer belly that is so hard to shrink.  I think if we spent as much time actually working on getting fitter as we do finding lazy ways to get fitter, we might actually see some changes.
    But the struggle is real.  Real change doesn’t happen on accident or without effort.  And our readings today remind us of that fact.  It would be nice if following Jesus meant everything goes well for you.  But we all know that isn’t the case.  In fact, the more we follow God, the harder some things seem to become.
    Take Jeremiah in our first reading.  God gave Jeremiah some tough messages to deliver.  Jeremiah told the people they needed to abandon their false gods and their injustice, or else the temple would be destroyed and they would be exiled.  What does Jeremiah get for this?  He’s thrown into a mostly-dry well, but with mud at the bottom, so he starts sinking in.  They do pull him out, but then Jeremiah is put under house arrest, until all that he says comes true.  And even after all that he prophesies happens, the people still don’t listen to Jeremiah.
    And in our Gospel, Jesus says that following Him will not always cause rainbows and lollipops.  Families will divide over following Christ.  Elsewhere He promises that those who follow Him will have to take up their cross each day, which meant real and humiliating suffering for the Gospel.  Following Jesus will not always be easy because it means putting to death all that is fallen in us, and all that is fallen in us doesn’t want to die; it fights for its existence.
    This does not mean we can go picking fights with family, nor that we should blithely say difficult things that people don’t want to hear.  Our focus should be on following God, no matter what the costs, and let the consequences fall where they will.  Our goal is to do what God wants in all circumstances.  
    And that takes perseverance.  The Letter to the Hebrews talks about continuing to run the race.  Our race is not a sprint; it’s a marathon.  Or, to use the popular phrase from the Disney movie, “Finding Nemo,” “Just keep swimming.”
    But we’re not in this alone.  Christ never calls us to something without giving us the grace to get through it.  The Sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation give us an indelible mark, which not only claims us for God, but gives us a stream of graces every day so that we can believe in God (Baptism) and share the Gospel (Confirmation).  Likewise, receiving the Eucharist in a state of grace each Sunday is so important because it is our spiritual nourishment which gives us the spiritual nutrition we need to run the race well.  It’s like the Elven lembas bread from Lord of the Rings that provides super substantial strength to keep going.  That is one reason why the Church has a precept that you have to go to Mass every Sunday and Holyday under pain of mortal sin, unless your sick or more than 30 minutes away from a church: we cannot follow Christ as He wants without the Eucharist.  To absent ourselves from Mass means that we spiritually starve ourselves.
    And, as the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us, we also have the saints to encourage us onward, the “great…cloud of witnesses,” that show us what it means to persevere in the faith even in the midst of struggles.  In a few weeks, Pope Leo will canonize Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati, who was a young man and a Third Order Dominican who lived the Beatitudes in a real way in the early 20th century.  While from a rich family, he dedicated his life to serving the poor in Turin, Italy, where he grew up.  He ended up dying of polio at the age of 24.  His parents expected many noble people of Turin to come to help them mourn their son, but they were shocked when they saw the streets lined with thousands of mourners who were the poor that he had served on the streets, a service he did not trumpet to his family.

Bl. Pier Griogio Frassati

    Bl. Pier Giorgio especially had two phrases that are memorable, though one is longer and I had to look up to get it exactly right.  The first and easiest to remember is: “Verso l’alto!” or “To the heights!”  Bl. Pier Giorgio was a mountain climber, no easy task, but he encouraged everyone to climb to heaven by engaging their faith, not just letting it be a passive part of their lives.  The second is a bit longer, but also inspiring: “To live without faith, without a patrimony to defend, without a steady struggle for truth, that is not living but existing.”  
    Just like when it comes to exercising our bodies, many find it easier just to veg on the couch and hope that they will get fitter through new inventions and the least amount of work as possible.  But that is not living, that is just existing.  God has given us faith, has given us a patrimony to defend, has asked us to struggle steadily for the truth.  That is the life God calls us to live, a heroic life, a life lived to the heights, verso l’alto.  God grant that we may engage, even through the struggle is real, and not just remain at rest because it’s easy.  Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati, pray for us!! 

Tempting

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost-Commemoration of St. Lawrence

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  St. Theresa of Calcutta, aka Mother Theresa, famously once said, “I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle.  I just wish he didn’t trust me so much.”  Given that this is also the feast of St. Lawrence, who is commemorated today, this seems fitting as both this comment and St. Lawrence’s famous quote while being burned alive on a grill (“Turn me over, I’m done on this side,”) can elicit a chuckle.
    But when we’re in the midst of temptations, it doesn’t seem so funny.  And today’s words from St. Paul, that God does not test us beyond our strength, may not seems funny or may seem discouraging.  Temptations, which, by the way, are not sins in themselves, can sometimes seem overwhelming that clamor for our attention like a petulant child.  It’s one thing when it’s just that draw to say something about another and we catch ourselves before we actually say anything.  It’s another when that temptation just seems to take all our attention and won’t let us go.  
    There are different approaches to try to fight temptation.  Many saints of course will recommend turning to prayer when you are being tempted.  And for some people and for some temptations that can work really well.  Pious phrases like, “Jesus, deliver me!” can help us focus away from that which tempts us and calls upon divine assistance to open us up to the grace that will keep us from giving in to that temptation and committing a sin.
    For some people and some temptations, prayer doesn’t seem to work as well.  I think this can certainly be true with sins of the flesh.  Many people when facing a sexual temptation find it difficult to focus on anything else, even just being able to say a quick prayer.  St. Francis of Assisi famously jumped naked into a rose bush to fight temptation (though some say it was to fight discouragement, not sexual sins), and that rose bush no longer has thorns.
    But no matter what the temptation and how we fight it, it may seem odd that we even have to undergo temptation.  I mean, isn’t original sin washed away in Holy Baptism?  So why, to paraphrase St. Paul, do we not do the good we want to do, and we do the evil that we don’t want to do?  Why would a loving God allow us to have to choose between Him and sin more than just once in our life?
    While Holy Baptism does wash away original sin, that original disobedience that was passed down to us from Adam and Eve from their choice against God, we are still left with concupiscence, or a disordered affection for that which is contrary to God.  Concupiscence is not a sin in itself, but is the fomes peccati, or the tinder or fuel for sin (and the dating app Tinder is often a fuel for sin).  
    But concupiscence is part and parcel of a system where we have free will.  Our proper use of free will allows us to choose the good.  But baked within that free will is the ability to use free will poorly and choose the bad.  But we can’t love without free will, which is the main desire of God: that we love Him and grow in our relationship with Him so that He can configure us more and more to Himself.  God does not want us to fall to sin, but He also loves us enough to allow us to exist in a system that allows us to love Him, but also allows us not to love Him.

Church of Dominus Flevit, where Christ wept over Jerusalem

    And as we look to the Gospel, as we look to Christ weeping over the city of Jerusalem, we see Him weeping over the misuse of that free will.  The Chosen People had been prepared as best as God could to welcome the Messiah who was not simply a human leader of the Jews but the very Son of God Himself.  While He worked many miracles to back up His claim that He was God, many, in the end, would not accept that revelation, which would lead to the very destruction of the Holy City itself.  
    And we are more important even than the City of David.  Yet God demonstrates His love for us time and time again, just like He revealed His divinity.  In the midst of our temptations God never abandons us or leaves us to temptation.  In fact, the Church teaches us that God always gives us sufficient grace, the grace we need to respond to His will and avoid all mortal sin.  But we do have to accept that grace.  Grace never forces itself upon another.
    Part of our response should be to avoid what we often call the near occasion of sin.  If we know that we are tempted in certain circumstances, we should do our best, whenever possible, to avoid those circumstances.  It should be no surprise that when an alcoholic goes to a bar, he or she is more likely to have a drink.  The alcoholic can’t really complain that temptation is so hard to fight when he or she goes to a place where the temptation is readily present.  Or, if a young man and a young woman who are dating go into a bedroom when no one else is home and sit on the bed, it’s not so surprising if they end up giving into grave sexual sins because they put themselves in a near occasion of sin.  They not only have the kindling for the fire of sin, they brought a butane lighter and poured lighter fuel on the kindling.  
    With other sins like judgement, we cannot always avoid other people who tend to upset us or make us want to judge them, but do we have the foresight to pray before we get into that situation, or maybe even just finger the beads of the rosary that we keep in our pocket to help us remember to whom we belong and what He wants for us to thrive spiritually.
    In order for us to love God as He wants us to love Him and in return for His love for God, God does trust us to choose the good in a situation where good and bad are two different options for us.  God does trust us to choose Him even when sometimes we find that very difficult.  May we lean into the grace of God that helps us to fight temptation and avoid sin, and so come to enjoy the bliss that St. Theresa won by her charity to the poor and St. Lawrence won by the shedding of His blood for Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen. 

How We Name God

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Growing up my name has progressed a bit.  I was born and baptized Anthony John.  But very early on my family called me Tony, the natural nickname for Anthony.  However, in kindergarten there was another Tony in my class.  And so, rather than going by Tony L. (my classmate) and Tony S., I decided to switch to TJ, Tony John.  That name stuck all throughout elementary and middle school, until I went to Lansing Catholic High School.  Sometime 27 years ago, as I tried out for the soccer team, the coach asked my name.  I said TJ, but then said, “actually it’s Anthony, but everyone calls me TJ.”  The coach must have heard Anthony clearly enough and J clearly enough, but did not catch TJ.  So he started to call me AJ.  And since I wanted to make the team, and didn’t think correcting a coach would help, I went by AJ.  That worked until I applied to seminary.  I introduced myself to Bishop Mengeling (God rest his soul) as AJ.  He asked me, “What does the A stand for?”  I answered, “Anthony.”  He said, “That’s a great name!  You should use it!”  And, as I didn’t want to disagree with the bishop, I started going by Anthony starting my senior year of high school, continuing to the present (though I know a number of you feel more comfortable with calling me Fr. Strouse, which is fine).  Back before cell phones, I could always tell from which period in my short life a person came based on who they asked for on the phone: Tony; TJ; AJ; or Anthony.  And, for the record, I don’t go by Fr. Tony, Fr. TJ, or Fr. AJ.
    How do we address God?  This might seem like an odd question for a homily at Mass, but the way that we address a person, be it a human or Divine Person, says something about our relationship with that person.  As we consider how we address God, it, too, changed through the centuries.  For the longest time during the ages of the Patriarchs, God was simply the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  God chose to be known as the God of a particular family, whom God had called to leave modern-day Iraq to the Promised Land (even though they were enslaved in Egypt for some 400 years).  
 

  It was not until the burning bush, when Moses asked the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob how He was to be called, did God reveal Himself with His more personal name: “I AM WHO AM,” or, even more simply, “I AM.”  This Sacred Name God reveals, but then it is never to be used, and, in Hebrew, even though there was a word for it, the Jews would always say, “Adonai,” which means Lord.  Only the High Priest on Yom Kippur while in the Holy of Holies could utter that sacred name of God to which Adonai referred.
    Of course, there were other terms for God in the Old Testament, too: Elohim, which means simply “God”; El Shaddai, which means, “God Almighty”; Immanuel, which means “God with us”; El Elyon, which means “God Most High”; Adonai sabaoth, which means, “God of hosts” (and in the Sanctus we keep that title, not even translating sabaoth).  But in the end, God’s Sacred Name was not said, and He was simply referred to as Adonai or Lord (and in the Bible, when you see Lord in small caps, that is the way of saying that this word Lord refers to the Sacred Name of God).
    But then Christ in the New Testament gives us a new way to address God: Abba.  No, not the 1970s band with such hits as “Dancing Queen,” “Mamma Mia,” and “Fernando,” but the Aramaic word which is probably best translated as “Daddy,” or a very familiar word for father.  St. Paul reminds us that, through baptism, we have become adopted sons and daughters in the Son of God by the power of the Holy Spirit, so that we can call on God as Abba.  But this was radical.  In John 5:18, the Evangelist writes, “For this reason the Jews tried all the more to kill [Jesus], because he not only broke the sabbath but he also called God his own father.”  
    It is one thing to address God as simply God, or Almighty, or Most High, or God of Hosts.  And maybe even we soften it a little with Immanuel, God with us.  But to call God Abba was to acknowledge a very close, personal, even intimate relationship with God that the Savior had by nature and we share by adoption.  It’s the difference between having a dad in the military and calling him Major or calling him Daddy.  The first is for those he commands; the second is for those he loves.  
    This might seem even more strange as we use a foreign language, Latin, to address God.  And in the English translations of this Mass, and even in the English translations of the Missal of Pope St. John Paul II, we use very formal language to address God: “Bestow upon us, O Lord, we beseech Thee….”  I don’t go to Chick-Fil-A and say, “Bestow upon me, O server, the three-piece chicken strip meal, I beseech thee.”  If I did, I might end up in a padded room.  We use very formal language for God in the Mass.
    Though, this is probably a good time to say that not everything in the Mass is so formal.  When we hear Thee and Thy, we tend to think formal.  However, in English, Thee and Thy are actually more informal than you and your.  We get this from the Dutch/Flemish who say, “je” or “jouw” when speaking informally, while “u” and “ur” are used for formal speech.
    But this just goes to show how both are proper and necessary in our prayer.  If we only treat God as a far off King, for whom we are servants, than we are missing out on the familial relationship into which God brought us through Holy Baptism.  And this is especially true in our personal prayer when we should fling our arms around our loving Father with the confidence and ease of a a child with its father.  However, if we only treat God as a close family member then we are missing out on the fact that He is also utterly transcendent, His ways are not always our ways, and we are not His equals.  A way of expressing this would be to say, “My father, the king.”  He is both family and ruler, familiar and otherly.
    We probably each have different ways that we address God based upon our personality, or maybe even simply the season of life in which we find ourselves.  But may we always remember both that God is our King and Lord of the Angelic Army who will vanquish evil without a struggle, but also, through Holy Baptism, our Father who loves us and gives us every good gift that we need through our Lord Jesus Christ, His Son, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.   

True Devotion to God, Not Money

 Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    When I think about those who are greedy for money, the first two images that come to mind are Disney characters: Scrooge McDuck and the Disney version of Prince John from Robin Hood.  I can see in my mind’s eye cartoons with Scrooge diving into his supply of gold coins in his vault or Prince John wrapping a bag of gold around his arm while he sucks his thumb and sleeps.  I think this is a bit ironic, as I feel like you now have to take a second mortgage out on your house if you wish to visit Disney World with you kids.  
    Clearly, if our readings are saying anything today, they’re saying don’t make money a god.  Ecclesiastes reminds us that whatever we work for we have to leave behind, and this is a vanity.  The Gospel talks about making sure we’re not greedy, like the parable of the man who builds bigger places to store all his wealth, only to lose it by his own surprise death.  And even the epistle from St. Paul, which does not always connect to the first reading and Gospel, tells us to set our minds on the things above, heavenly things, rather than those of earth.  
    And so, one could easily think that God says not to worry about money.  And in one sense, that would be right.  But, all of us have basic needs we need to care for, like food, drink, clothing, housing, and healthcare, and all of those (more or less) require money.  And it’s one think if you decide to ignore your own needs, but if you are married and have children, your family may depend on you to earn income so that they also have food, drink, clothing, housing, and healthcare.  So it seems like you have to worry about money.  But the readings tell us not to.  So do we just ignore these readings because they’re difficult?  Or do we stop work and run off to a monastery or convent (the word nunnery could also be used) and never worry about money again?

St. Francis de Sales

    Money does easily tend towards dominating our thoughts and affections, but it is not in itself bad.  Those who live in the world need to exercise wisdom in how they earn and spend money, and this is actually part of how they live their vocation to be saints.  St. Francis de Sales helps us understand this in his great work, Introduction to the Devout Life:
 

When God the Creator made all things, he commanded the plants to bring forth fruit each according to its own kind; he has likewise commanded Christians, who are the living plants of his Church, to bring forth the fruits of devotion, each one in accord with his character, his station and his calling….
Tell me, please, my Philothea, whether it is proper for a bishop to want to lead a solitary life like a Carthusian; or for married people to be no more concerned than a Capuchin about increasing their income; or for a working man to spend his whole day in church like a religious.… Is not this sort of devotion ridiculous, unorganised and intolerable? Yet this absurd error occurs very frequently, but in no way does true devotion, my Philothea, destroy anything at all. On the contrary, it perfects and fulfills all things. In fact if it ever works against, or is inimical to, anyone’s legitimate station and calling, then it is very definitely false devotion.

Holiness comes according to our vocation and our avocation, and avoiding the duties and responsibilities of our own vocation so that we try to be like those living in another vocation is, as St. Francis de Sales says, “false devotion.”
    So, then, what does that mean for you and me?  How do I guard against greed but also work enough to support my family?  Am I allowed to better my family’s life and circumstances, or should I only have the basics?
    Those are each questions that only you can answer in the particular, but with certain principles the Church has to guide you.  First of all, do you own your money or does your money own you?  If you’re not sure, how much time do you spend thinking about money and possessions?  Sometimes I see my spending habits and realize that I need to pull back so that my expenses don’t exceed my income.  That’s virtuous.  But sometimes I might think that if I just had a million dollars I could be truly happy.  That’s greed and idolatry.  
    Can one take nice vacations to tropical places?  Sure, as long as you are meeting the basic requirements of taking care of your family and giving back to God some of what He has given to you.  While we don’t necessarily use the 10% rule (and, truth be told, Catholics on average give less than 1% of their income to the Church), how much is spent on unnecessary niceties, and how much is spent on charity, including the Church, the poor, other charitable organizations, etc.?  If we’re stingy with how much we give the Church, but liberal with what we spend on ourselves or our own creature comforts, then maybe we do need to re-prioritize.  
    A great way to keep money in perspective is to remember that we cannot take it with us.  As the author of Ecclesiastes, by tradition King Solomon, reminded us, we can work as hard as we want for all the money in the world, but we can’t take our money with us.  When we see it as a means of helping us be saints, then we are probably keeping it in the right perspective.  May no one look at us and think of Scrooge McDuck or Prince John, but may they recognize our stewardship of what God has allowed us to enjoy, no matter how much or how little.