Motivation Matters

Quinquagesima

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Motivation matters.  When I first started exercising five or so years back, I did it because my friends exercised.  Then I continued to work out because I wasn’t super pleased with the way my body looked, and wanted bigger arm and chest muscles and more toned abs.  And while I still like working out with friends when I can, and while I am still working on growing muscles a little and trying to get away from the “dad bod” look, what really motivates me right now is that I know working out helps me be the best person I can be, as well as reduces stress and releases endorphins.  Working out is part of a healthy lifestyle: anima sana in corpore sana (asics).  
    As we get ready for Lent (and buckle-up: it’s here on Wednesday), we likely have a number of practices we want to take on for penance.  Maybe it’s eating less of a certain type of food, or maybe adding extra prayers to our daily prayer routine, or maybe donating time or money to the poor more.  These, in addition to our usual Lenten practices of fasting on Ash Wednesday, the Lenten Ember Days, and Good Friday, as well as abstaining from meat on Ash Wednesday, the Lenten Ember Days, and Fridays should bring us closer to God and put to death the old, sinful man in us who acts more like a toddler and wants immediate gratification always.
    But why do we do these things?  Does the Church want us to earn our salvation?  We can’t.  Does the Church want us to go on a diet?  Maybe it would be a healthy practice, but our food penances have nothing to do with our waistline.  What motivates us to take on penances, not only during Lent, but throughout the year?
    The Apostle tells us today that our motivation should be that special type of love we call charity: the love the mirrors, to the best of our ability, the love of God.  No matter what we do, St. Paul says, even if it looks like it is a powerful demonstration of God’s grace in us, if we do it without love, we gain nothing.  Love, he tells us, has to motivate our every action.
    And charity, as a special type of love, does not spring from thinking of ourselves first.  When we think of ourselves first we are like Olympic athletes who train only so that they can get an award and beef up their athletic resume or brag that they stand as the best in the world.  So many times when we do penances we may rely on selfish motivations, even if they are clothed in generosity or piety.  When we act out of the desire to have something for ourselves, we do not demonstrate charity.  We are then like the hypocrites that our Lord will condemn on Ash Wednesday who fast and give alms in order to be seen.  Instead, God calls us to act out of charity, out of the desire simply to please the Beloved, God Himself, no matter what it could mean for us, or even if we gained nothing at all.  True love doesn’t do something good so that I can get something good back.  True love does what the beloved wants simply because the beloved wants it, without thought of repayment.
    Truth be told, we all probably struggle with mixed motives.  Even our best acts probably do not find their entire root in charity, but are commingled with a little selfishness.  All too often, we are blind to our selfishness and hidden motives that infect all our deeds.  And so we, like the blind man our Lord encountered near Jericho, need to cry out, “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!”  And maybe our selfishness, our pride, our vainglory tells us not to cry out to Jesus, because we’re good enough, or it’s close enough.  But we need to persist and cry out again and again, “Son of David, have pity on me!”  We need to ask the Lord to help us to see ourselves and see our mixed motives, and then ask that the Savior send His grace to purify our motives and change our self-interested love into true charity, the love which seeks only to please God.
    Will we ever fully be there?  Probably not on this side of eternity.  We will always see ourselves dimly, as in a mirror.  But if we keep crying out for God’s help to love as He loves to the best of our ability, then we will see God face to face one day, where our love will truly be selfless, will truly mirror the charity of God.  
    In this last Sunday before Lent, we should all examine our Lenten practices in the light of, “how does this help me grow in charity?”  We don’t have to do them perfectly in charity, but we should strive to do them as perfectly in charity as we can.  May we not take on penances in order to look holy, or to seem to others to be pious or ascetic, or even because we hope to get something good out of it, but may our penances help us grow more deeply in love with the one who saves us: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Following Christ May Not be Easy

Septuagesima
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  One would be forgiven for thinking that, once one truly believes in Christ, everything goes easily.  We have a desire for doing right, and we want that desire and those righteous actions to carry with them the consequence of ease.  And certainly, even Aristotle in his Nicomachean Ethics points to how the truly virtuous person exhibits virtue without too much struggle.  A person who truly has the virtue of courage will exhibit courage, rather than cowardice or rashness, in his or her actions, and will not need to think about it much, because a virtue is a stable disposition or habit to choose a particular good.  
    At the same time, a person who exhibits every virtue is rare.  And so there is a kind of struggle that takes place as that person seeks to life a fully virtuous life.  A man may never struggle with remaining faithful to his wife, but he may struggle with telling the truth, or displaying magnanimity (greatness of soul), or tempering his desire for food.

    St. Paul talks about striving for self-mastery and living a virtue, and compares it to running a race.  He notes that only one person wins a prize for first place, and says that we should run so as to win, rather than simply seeking a participation trophy.  He even says that he competes and subjects his body to penances, in order that he might also win.  
    He then also talks about how all the Jews received a sort of baptism in Moses, whether through the cloud or through the sea, and all participated in a foreshadowing of the Eucharist through the spiritual food and spiritual drink that was Christ.  But the Apostle notes that most of them did not please God.  
    What we can understand from this is that just because we are baptized; just because we receive the Eucharist, doesn’t mean that we can rest on our laurels.  While both are important sacraments that, respectively, make us adopted children of God and give us spiritual strength to live as children of God, receiving sacraments doesn’t mean that the graces work in us necessarily.  The fault lies not with the grace that God gives, but with our receptivity to those graces: with how we allow the grace to operate in our lives.
    We refer to these two aspects of the sacrament with two Latin phrases: ex opere operato, and ex opere operantis.  Ex opere operato means “from the work having been worked,” and refers to the objective reality that the sacraments have, as long as they are celebrated as the Church intends (the right words, the right stuff, and the right minster).  Ex opere operantis means “from the work of the one working,” and refers to the subjective reality and fruitfulness that the sacraments have, which is based upon the holiness of the minister and the recipient.  The former steers us clear of the heresy of Donatism, which stated that an evil minister could invalidate a sacrament, even if he did everything else correctly, and the latter steers us clear of magic, which takes the approach that, no matter what, just say the right words and do the right things and a change takes place, no matter whether a person opens him or herself up to the graces that God wants to convey.  

    This helps us understand why some baptized Catholics do not live up to their call to be saints.  Did the baptism not take?  Of course it did (as long as the minister celebrated it validly)!  But that recipient might be putting up a block to those graces through personal sin after the fact, or maybe the minister gave bad catechesis and treated baptism like an empty ceremony that doesn’t accomplish anything.  
    This helps us understand why, after we receive the Eucharist, sometimes we still want to sin.  The joke is that in the church we’re all pious and grateful for the Body and Blood of Christ, but then as we try to pull out of the parking lot we lose our temper and act like heathens who do not know Christ’s command to love one another and be patient.  
    And this is why we do our penitential practices, especially in the upcoming season of Lent.  We don’t do penance to earn salvation; we can’t earn salvation.  That’s the heresy of Pelagianism.  But our penances help discipline us to open ourselves to the graces that God wants to give, because our sin puts up obstacles (the theological word is obex) to the fruitfulness of God’s grace.  When we fast, when we abstain, when we give alms, we recognize our need for deeper conversion and to rely on God, rather than on ourselves or the goods of the world.  We make more room for God so that the spring of grace He has given us in baptism flows unobstructed, and so that the sacramental grace transforms us from the inside out.  
    Some get this from the beginning, like the workers whom the master hired at the beginning of the day.  For others it takes a long time, like those who only worked for the last hour.  But if we allow God’s grace to transform us into the saints He wants us to be in baptism, even at the last moments, then our hope of eternal salvation can be strong.
    We all likely have ways that need to grow in virtue, and our upcoming Lenten season is the perfect time to open ourselves up more to God’s grace so that we can grow in virtue.  May we run so as to win the prize, knowing that it is God who makes any good work possible and completes any good work that we began by His inspiration: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Peace

Solemnity of Pentecost

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  One of the most striking parts of Pope Leo XIV’s election (aside from the fact that the cardinals elected a pope from the United States) was his first greeting.  As he stepped out on the loggia, and we saw him for the first time, he said, “La pace sia con tutti voi,” which, translated into English, means: “Peace be with you all” or simply, “Peace be with you.”  What struck me is that these were the words of the risen Christ when He appeared in the Upper Room after the Resurrection, which we heard in today’s Gospel.  This 266th successor of St. Peter made his own, as his first words, the words of Christ to the troubled disciples.  His desire, as that of Christ’s was that His followers might have peace.
    Peace is one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit, whose descent upon those same disciples at Pentecost fifty days after the Resurrection of Christ we celebrate today.  We list peace as a fruit of the Holy Spirit, based upon Galatians 5:22-23, a list of the virtues that one should exhibit when the Holy Spirit dwells in a person.  Peace should be a hallmark of our lives as followers of Christ, those who have received the Holy Spirit first through Holy Baptism, and then through Holy Confirmation.  
    Often when we think of peace, we think of it as something external, concerning countries and their relationships with other countries.  I daily pray for peace in the Holy Land, and what tends to be on my heart is the cessation of violence and war in the land where the Prince of Peace walked.  But peace is not meant only for over there.  Peace starts right here, in our lives: in our souls and in our hearts.
    Peace goes beyond stopping violence or war.  The Biblical meaning of peace, or shalom in Hebrew, It means a wholeness to the person, a reality of fulfillment in God.  It recognizes that we have nothing to fear because, as St. Paul says in his first epistle to the Corinthians, “all belong to you, and you to Christ, and Christ to God.”  Or, to say it more simply with the words of a campy, devotional song, “He’s got the whole world in His hands.”  
    While nations can break peace between themselves by starting fighting, the peace that comes as a gift of the Holy Spirit no one can take from us.  If we lose peace in ourselves, we gave it away.  We allowed something to enter in and pushed aside the peace that the Holy Spirit wants us to have, the peace that allowed martyrs to suffer for the faith serenely, even though it involved great amounts of pain and suffering.  It is, as St. Teresa of Avila said: “Let nothing disturb you, / Let nothing frighten you, / All things are passing away: / God never changes. / Patience obtains all things / Whoever has God lacks nothing; / God alone suffices.”  When we recognize who God is and what He does for His beloved children, then nothing need worry us or try to convince us to give away our peace.
    Do we ask for this fruit of the Holy Spirit?  Do we seek out peace and desire it to fill our lives and demonstrate itself in our lives and our interactions with others?  Or does the lust to dominate seem more attractive to us?  Would we rather lack peace and seem to have more control over others than they have over us?  Because there is always a bigger fish.  There is always someone else who will lord over us as we have lorded it over others.
    To have peace within ourselves means that we seek to order our lives in the way that God intends: our bodily desires subject to our reason; our reason subject to our souls; our souls subject to God.  Adam and Eve lived this sort of life before the Fall in the Garden of Eden.  But when they decided to disobey God, they shattered that order that brought them peace: their souls were no longer subject to God, their minds were no longer subject to their souls, and their bodies were no longer subject to their minds.  So they had to cover themselves for fear that the other would seek to dominate and take advantage of each other’s body, though they were of one flesh.  They quickly blamed each other for the fault to which they both assented, because they were afraid of the other having some priority of spiritual power over each other.

    So how do we have peace?  How do regain that which Christ gave to us at Easter?  Though we have received the Holy Spirit in the Sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation, we still recognize that our interior and exterior lives do not always fall into order.  If we wish to have peace, then starting with ourselves, we have to live in a rational way, not simply giving in to the desires of our body.  And to do this, we practice bodily asceticism like fasting or abstinence.  By denying ourselves from some bodily good temporarily, we remind our bodies that they are subject to higher goods that our minds perceive.  We also make sure that our minds are formed properly by truth, and not by falsehood, or even by conjecture or conspiracy.  We should watch how we form our minds, and what we allow in.  Does our intellectual diet include solid foods of truth, or is it simply the candy of gossip and jumping to conclusions?  Lastly, we subject our souls to God through obedience to what He has revealed, especially when it is difficult or doesn’t come naturally.  The Church is a sure guide of knowing the will of God, and helps us to order our life in the way God originally intended through its moral teachings.  
    Pope Leo XIV reminded us in his first words as pope that Christ wants us to have peace.  The gift of the Risen Christ is peace, which is given as a fruit of our reception of the Holy Spirit.  May this same Holy Spirit, who descended upon the Apostles, the Blessed Mother, and the disciples at Pentecost, give us peace at all times, the peace the world cannot give, the peace that comes from ordering our lives to God: the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Don't Let the Old Man In

Second Sunday of Lent

    Not long before Toby Keith died, a little more than a year ago, I heard a song that he released in 2019 called, “Don’t Let the Old Man In.”  While the song sings of death, personified by an old man, for us Catholics, the old man is Adam, our fallen, sinful self, while the new man is Christ, raised from the dead and sinless.
    And as we hear the readings today, we get the comparison between the old man and the new man.  St. Paul speaks about those whose “minds are occupied with earthly things.”  These are people to follow their passions, whatever they might be.  They live more like animals than humans.  And because they do not live up to their human potential, they become “enemies of the cross of Christ,” tending towards destruction by following whatever desires they may have.  This is the description of the old man, the first Adam, who gave up happiness with God out of pride and gluttony.
    The old man, the disobedient Adam, always seeks his own will over and against God’s will, no matter what the subject matter.  The old man spends money as he wants, without any reference to God; eats whatever he wants, without any reference to God; pursues whatever he wants, without any reference to God.  In all these cases and more, God is, at best, an afterthought, and, at worst, not considered at all in one’s actions.  The old man, St. Paul says, is earthly, and was addressed on Ash Wednesday: Remember, man, you are dust, and to dust you shall return.  

    But the Gospel we heard today, the Gospel of the Transfiguration, shows us what the new man can be.  Christ receives transfiguration from the Father to show the three great Apostles what will happen after the Passion and Crucifixion.  But that foresight connects to obedience, obedience to the Father’s will, no matter where that leads, even if it leads to the cross.  Moses, who appears on Mount Tabor with the Lord and Elijah, also received a much smaller gift of transfiguration when he beheld God.  His face radiated, so much so that people would have him cover it up because they were put off by it.  Moses would only remove his veil when he entered the presence of God.  But, St. Paul also says that it was a radiance that faded.  Whereas the radiance God desires for us in heaven will never fade away, just as the radiance of Christ never fades away.
    That radiance comes when we stop living like the old man, doing it “my way,” and when we, by the grace of God, open ourselves up to God’s transforming grace, His life, so that it begins to change us from the inside out.  We start to transfigure when we do it God’s way.  Sin blocks the light of Christ that we received at Holy Baptism from shining through us.  Repentance, especially through the Sacrament of Penance, cleanses us from the mud of sin so that the light of Christ can shine through us and glorify God.
    St. Paul mentions those who treat their stomach as a god, who follow their appetite at all costs.  During Lent we often hear critiques about fasting and abstinence.  People will say that they like fish, or that going to Red Lobster hardly seems like a penance.  But part of the abstinence and fasting is that we humble ourselves in observing obedience to a church law.  I read an article recently about whether one could eat an Impossible burger on Fridays during Lent, since it’s not meat.  The response was that, if one is simply trying to find a loophole to not eating meat, then it would probably not be ok to do.  But, if one truly saw eating the Impossible burger as a penance, then it could be ok, since it is not meat.  And, for those who feel it’s easy not to eat meat on Fridays, do it throughout the year.  Because of my fallen will, the times I want meat the most are the times I’m not allowed or supposed to have it.  Or try following the Ember Days, which are four times a year of additional abstinence and fasting.  The old man will probably start rearing his head and crying out for attention, trying to pull us away from penances that we want to do to bring us closer to God.
    We demonstrate the transfigured life of the new man when we display kindness to a co-worker who puts us down; or when we show friendship to someone who is friendless; or when we do not seek undue attention and puff ourselves up by bragging about our achievements; or when we treat even our enemies with human dignity and respect.  Living the life of the new man is about asking what God wants us to do in this moment.  And the more we practice it, the easier it becomes.  As we think about the saints, for many of them towards the end of their life, living a Christ-centered life didn’t require as much effort, because they had trained themselves to think with the mind of Christ and love with His Sacred Heart.  
    We don’t have to live like the old man.  We don’t have to fall to our passions and let them rule us.  That is the precious gift we were given in baptism.  So, to quote the last verse of Toby Keith’s song: “When he rides up on his horse / And you feel that cold bitter wind / Look out your window and smile / Don’t let the old man in.” 

The Strong Man and the Stronger Man

Third Sunday of Lent
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  For many men, especially as they’re in adolescence or a young adulthood, one of the worst things you can say is, “You look like your mother.”  I can’t be sure if this applies to daughters being told they look like their dad, but I can’t imagine a young girl wanting to hear she looks like a guy.  The physical comparisons, whether between mother and son or father and daughter might be somewhat true, but, at least for guys, it’s not the sort of thing you want to hear. 
    In a different vein entirely, but still something that shouldn’t be compared is our Lord and the powers of evil.  Christ was not afraid to use physical force with objects (as in the cleansing of the Temple) or sharp words with people (as in his rebuke of the scribes and Pharisees) to get his point across.  So the fact that He used neither of these in today’s Gospel demonstrates just how patient Christ could be.  There He is, working to free people from the dominion of the evil one, and people start surmising that He must be doing the work of the evil one.  I can’t say that I’d be as patient as our Lord in such a situation.

St. Irenaeus

    Instead, the Savior asks them how Satan is supposed to survive if he’s undermining his own work?  He says the words that Abraham Lincoln would paraphrase some eighteen hundred years later: “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”  And then Christ speaks about His own work.  The strong man in this explanation is Satan, but the stronger man is Christ.  St. Irenaeus the early second century bishop of Lyons and martyr, writes in his magnum opus Adversus Haereses:
 

For as in the beginning [Satan] enticed man to transgress his Maker’s law, and thereby got him into his power; yet his power consists in transgression and apostasy, and with these he bound man [to himself]; so again, on the other hand, it was necessary that through man himself he should, when conquered, be bound with the same chains with which he had bound man, in order that man, being set free, might return to his Lord, leaving to [Satan] those bonds by which he himself had been fettered, that is, sin.  For when Satan is bound, man is set free; since none can enter a strong man’s house and spoil his goods, unless he first bind the strong man himself.

We are the spoils, the ones that Satan first duped, but that Christ freed from slavery to Satan, while Christ bound up Satan and put an end to his dominion over us.
    But, Christ also notes in this Gospel that even with His work of freeing us from Satan, it’s not as if Satan just gives up.  Christ does His work of freeing us, but we have to continue to cooperate in that work by standing guard against falling into that slavery again.  Because, as Christ noted, demons may be cast out, but he may return, and may bring his friends to try to wrest us back to the power of the enemy, so that we are more under Satan’s control the second time than the first.  As St. Peter warns us in his first epistle, the devil is prowling like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.  If we knew a lion was outside, we would be very careful about watching where it was, and making sure we were protected from an attack. 
    How do protect ourselves?  The works of Lent are a good starting point.  Prayer is a great way to guard against the enemy.  A daily habit of prayer is not only good to strengthen our relationship with our Beloved, a strong relationship with our Beloved keeps us from looking for other lovers.  Some people find that in the moment of strong temptations, prayer can help greatly.  Others find that, in the midst of strong temptations, it is very hard to pray.  But daily prayer, especially the Rosary, can assist in keeping watch against attacks of the enemy.
    Fasting also helps us to fight off temptation.  It may not always seem obvious how fasting helps, but we are a union of body and soul, and so when we discipline one, we discipline the other.  Fasting is intended to raise our mind to heavenly things, since we are not focusing as much on satisfying the body.  It reminds the body, which is so often the way that Satan tries to get us to follow him instead of God, that just because the body wants something does not mean that it gets it.  Bodily desires have to be subordinated to the soul, which has to be subordinated to the will of God.  And fasting helps to put that divinely established order back into line.
    Lastly, confession is an important part of regaining freedom and remaining free from the grasp of the enemy.  Of course, if we have fallen into mortal sin, confession restores us to sanctifying grace, the grace that allows us to be received into heaven.  It removes the obstacles to God’s grace that we have put up, and unshackles us from attachment to the enemy.  But even if we only have venial sins, confession strengthens us to work on avoiding those sins, and helps us to avoid falling into other sins, which can be more grave.  Confession not only treats the disease, but also helps prevent us from getting the disease in the first place.  Many exorcists have said that the best way to make sure that we are not susceptible to demonic oppression or possession is to make frequent confessions, since confession means that we want Jesus to be Lord in our life and we wish to serve Him, not the enemy. 
    In the end, resisting the devil means doing the will of God.  God does not want us to be slaves of Satan, but wants us to be God’s children, united with Christ.  Christ always works to free all those created in the image and likeness of God from enslavement to sin so that they can live in the freedom and joy of the children of God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Are You Saved?

First Sunday of Lent
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  Are you saved?  This is a question that we can get from some of our Protestant brothers and sisters when we encounter them.  Or we might hear them talking about how they were saved on a particular date or at a particular age.  A week ago yesterday I attended the funeral of the mother of the Flint Post Administrator for the Michigan State Police.  She was baptist, and the preacher asked that very question to us, and talked about how Nadine was saved at a particular age when she accepted Jesus as her Lord and Savior.
    We as Catholics don’t use that language.  And so when we’re asked, perhaps we don’t know how to answer.  But as we begin Lent, it’s a good thing to explore.  St. Peter in his first letter [today] talks about being saved by baptism, which was prefigured by Noah being saved in the ark from the great Flood.  In terms of baptism, we can point to a day in which we were saved from original sin and became a child of God in the Son of God and, therefore, a member of the Church.  Baptism is a one-time event because it forever claims us for God and washes away, not only original sin, but any other sins that we have committed up to that point (if we’re not baptized as an infant, who wouldn’t have any personal sins that would need to be wiped away).  When it comes to baptism, we can rightly say that we were saved on that day.
    However, baptism isn’t only about a day.  Baptism begins a life of following Christ.  It’s not as if that one day means that we never have to worry about salvation after that.  Even though original sin is washed away, we still retain concupiscence, a desire for lesser goods.  While many Christians reject the idea of concupiscence after baptism, it seems quite obvious from human existence.  We probably can’t count the number of times even in just one day that we are tempted to do things that we know we shouldn’t do.  It doesn’t mean we have to give in to those temptations.  Through baptism, we have all the graces we need to avoid all mortal sins throughout our life.  But we still want what we shouldn’t want, as St. Paul himself describes.  Adam and Eve, who had no sin at first, were still tempted to reject God, and their choice to reject God affected all of us.  And Satan even tempted our Lord in the desert, as the Gospel for the First Sunday of Lent describes.  Our Lord had no sin whatsoever, and yet, due to His human nature, Satan thought he could get Christ to give in to lesser goods, just as Satan had tempted our first parents. 
    So, in this sense, we can say that we are being saved, in as much as we are choosing each day, more or less, to follow Christ.  To the extent that we follow Him, we are participating more in the salvation that God first offered to us in Holy Baptism.  To the extent that we choose lesser goods, things that we shouldn’t do, we are participating less in the salvation that God first offered us in Holy Baptism.
    And that leads to the last aspect of salvation for us as Catholics: we hope to be saved.  Life is our time of accepting or rejecting God and the promises of Holy Baptism to live as a disciple.  Each day we move closer to or farther away from eternal life in heaven.  There is no staying put or coasting.  But at some point, we will have cemented our decision because we won’t have any more decisions to make because we’re dead.  At that point, our life will witness to whether or not we accepted the salvation that God offered us in Holy Baptism and we will receive our eternal reward in Heaven (or the time preparing for Heaven in Purgatory) or our enteral punishment in Hell.  Once we die, there are no more second chances.  And so we hope that the decisions we make throughout our life show that we have accepted the salvation that Christ won for us by His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.  Only then will we know for sure if we are saved, though we have hope, because of baptism and because of being in a state of grace, that is, without mortal sin, at the time of our death. 

Powers Catholic Varsity Hockey Team

    While all analogies limp, think of it like being a hockey player.  When you first were able to skate on your own and hold a stick, you were, in a very beginning sense, a hockey player.  Sure, you didn’t have the ability to skate all that well, or the power from your muscles to push the puck far, but you were at the beginning.  Later, you developed more skills, and grew in your ability as a hockey player.  You also had times where you could decide to follow your desire to be a hockey player, or you could have chosen something else to do and abandon hockey.  Even for those of you who won the State Championship last year, you would each probably acknowledge ways that you can still grow as a hockey player.  Maybe we could, using this analogy, say that making to the NHL means that you are truly a hockey player, something some of you may hope to achieve someday.  So you were a hockey player when you just started out; you are still working on being a hockey player now; and you hope to truly be a hockey player in the NHL someday. 
    But for all of us, hockey players and non-hockey players alike, our goal is to continue to accept the gift of salvation that God offers us each day.  And our Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are meant to train us in a special way during this time of year to be able to choose the higher goods of following God’s will, and say no to the lesser goods of following only our will.  May those things that we have given up and the extra things we’re doing during Lent; may the extra prayers we say as we talk more and listen more to God; and may the generosity that we show to those in need during our Lenten season continue us on the path of salvation that God has set out for us [the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen].

Fasting and Abstinence (Precept #4)

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

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

Muskrat

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

In It to Win It

 Septuagesima Sunday

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  There are no participation trophies when it comes to eternal salvation.  There are winners (those in heaven and those in purgatory), and there are losers (those in hell).  Luckily, it’s not winner take all.  There can be more than one winner, inasmuch as more than one person can go to heaven (thanks be to God, because Mary would be the only one there).  
    But we are still called to give it our all.  St. Paul reminds us that we should run so as to win, and train our bodies for victory, which means denying them things that keep us from winning.  And it means taking things that help us win.  

    Since June, at the advice and with the occasional help of a friend, I’ve been working out pretty much every day Monday through Friday (though, I will admit, I didn’t quite work out while on vacation).  I recently had a doctor’s appointment and he noted that, as far as the bloodwork I had done is concerned, I’m doing much better, especially considering that the blood was taken not that long after Christmas, with all of the goodies associated with it.  I may not be swoll (the Troopers at the State Police Post where I work out often say I’m doing my “holy gains”), I am getting a bit stronger.
    To do that I have to stick with it, day in and day out.  I also have to be more careful what I eat.  That includes not eating as much frozen pizza, but also adding good calories that helps my body grow stronger.  It isn’t always fun to go to the Post for “holy gains,” and the bulking powder I mix isn’t always a delicious, refreshing beverage.  But it helps me, little by little, to keep my body fit and lean.
    The same is true in the spiritual life: we cannot stop (not even for vacation) our desire to grow in holiness and the actions we take each day to develop our relationship with Christ.  The prayers that we say, the foods from which we fast or abstain, the little mortifications that we endure are all meant to help us train to be winners and to receive the crown of heaven from our Lord.  Some days we enjoy those things, or we notice the difference that those ascetic practices are making in our spiritual life.  Other times we seem to be the same, unfit person that we were when we started.  But the key is to persevere.
    Another key is not to make too many comparisons.  Certainly we can look to others as guides, especially the saints.  They help us to know how we can grow in our love of God and neighbor.  To continue the analogy I began earlier, the friend that I occasionally work out with is much stronger than I am, and you can see it clearly in his biceps.  Desiring to be stronger like him can sometimes push me to workout, even when I don’t want to.
    But, on the other hand, comparisons can also be less than helpful, because we’re not concentrating on our own pilgrimage, but get caught up in what others have and do.  That’s one of the messages of the Gospel today.  The landowner promised a certain pay to those who worked all day.  He even promises those who started a little later than the first laborers a just wage.  But when he distributes the pay, those who came last, who only worked a couple of hours, received full pay.  The first workers starting looking at others, and comparing their work to those who came at the end of the day, and assumed they would get more.  But they received what they were promised, no more, and no less.  Their comparison did not help them, but actually drew them away from the goal, which was to work well for the landowner.  
    So in our spiritual life, when we look at what others are doing, sometimes it does not lead us to imitate others’ greatness, but makes us jealous of what they have, and unsatisfied with what we have.  Maybe we feel like we’re doing a lot of work, praying a lot, fasting and abstaining a lot, doing those mortifications, big and small, that are supposed to make us holy.  And all it’s doing is making us look down our noses at those other people who don’t practice the same penances that we do.  Or maybe we see what others do, and we feel like it’s hopeless, like our spiritual muscles will never be as big as that other person’s.  
    God doesn’t want our negative comparisons.  He wants us to be who we are, not someone else, and cooperate with Him in growing in holiness, according to our own state in life, graces and temptations, and abilities.  He doesn’t want us to be Martha, comparing what we are doing to what Mary is doing.  He simply wants us to be Mary, attentive to Him and following His direction for our life.  

    It’s also important to note how merciful the justice of God is.  As I said earlier, the landowner promised to give what was just to those who worked in the morning.  But out of a desire for others to be a part of the great work, he pays the later workers the same as the earlier.  There’s no evidence in the parable that the later workers knew they would be paid the same as the earlier workers.  But they were.  God’s justice was colored with His mercy.  God was generous.  And so he is with us.  God is always looking to forgive us, to draw us closer to Him, even in the last moments.  Think of the good thief, St. Dismas, who at the last moments of his criminal life sought the mercy of God, and it was granted to him, like to the later workers.  So for us, even if our conversion has come late, or even if we’re still working on the conversion we know God wants for us, we should never despair of God’s mercy.  Neither should we presume on it, and wait until the last moments of breath to make a true conversion, but if we are doing what we can to grow in living a life like Christ’s, we know that God will reward that, not only justly, but abundant with mercy.  
    So, as we get closer to Lent, and are starting to think of the Lenten penances we can take on, let’s follow the advice of St. Paul and do the things that will help us truly convert our lives, not make Lent a Catholic 40-day diet.  Choose a penance that will help you be a winner!  But, also know and trust in the mercy of God, who desires heaven for all His children, so they can rest eternally with Him, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Prepping for Lent

 Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Many of you probably remember my attempt a few years back to practice with the Powers Catholic boys soccer team, and how I broke my thumb in a drill.  Certainly it was a humbling experience in my life.  But it happened because I wasn’t ready.  34-year-old me thought (quite incorrectly) that I was still 20-year-old me, and could simply run around without having really exercised in quite some time and still have the same ability and stamina.  Was I ever wrong!!
    So as we sit today only a few short days away from Lent, we may think that we can just pick-up this Lent where we left off last year, without any real preparation.  Or maybe we’re just procrastinators who live by the motto: don’t do today what you can put off till tomorrow.  But if either of those are our approaches, I’m going to suggest that Lent might not be that fruitful for you.
    And Lent is supposed to be fruitful.  We often think of it as a time of negation and less, but in terms of our spiritual life, it’s a privileged time of growth.  Lent is meant to help us more and more to do what St. Paul said in our second reading: to imitate Christ and the saints.  And we do this in three primary ways during Lent: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.
    Prayer is key to our life as followers of Jesus and in imitation of Him.  The lepers today in the Gospel spoke to Jesus, and asked Him for the favor of healing.  That’s what prayer is for us, whatever our physical or spiritual needs.  We talk to God–Father, Son, and Holy Spirit–and present what’s going on in our life to Him.  Sometimes it’s asking for ourselves, sometimes it’s thanking, sometimes it’s praising, sometimes it’s interceding for another.  In the comedic Will Ferrell movie, “Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story,” the coach says, “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.”  For prayer, I adapt that to say if you can talk to a friend, you can talk to God.  
    But prayer is also listening.  How much time do you spend listening to God?  How much time do you make for God in silence?  We offer beautiful times for silence before the Blessed Sacrament, almost every Friday from 7-7:45 a.m. and every third Friday from 8:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.  But besides that, our church is open usually until 3 p.m. or so each day.  Even if you don’t want to come to church when there are crowds, pick out a time during the day, and for the most part, the church is empty or almost empty.  You can visit the Lord, speaking, listening, and being close to him while social distancing from everyone else.
    Fasting is something we’ve gotten away from in the Church, and I would say to our detriment.  We all have a sickness, not leprosy, but concupiscence, which draws us to avoid good things that should do, and draws us to do bad things that we shouldn’t do.  Our body sometimes draws us in ways that are not in accord with God’s will.  Just like in sports, we have to train our body and soul to perform at its best levels.  Fasting is a great way of training our bodies and souls to reject the bad, but denying ourselves even good things that we don’t necessarily need.  
    When we talk about fasting specifically, we’re talking about not eating certain amounts of food, like we do on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, the two days that the Church requires us to fast.  We eat one main meal, and two smaller meals that, combined, equal or are less than the one main meal, and at the same time don’t snack.  But fasting in a broader sense can include what we call abstinence, which, in the case of our penitential practices, means abstaining from beef, pork, and chicken on Fridays, but especially Fridays of Lent.  Many of you are old enough to remember not eating meat on any Friday, and that’s a practice I have taken up, and I do find that it has helped me draw closer to God, choose good things more and bad things less.  Fasting can also mean giving up a particular type of food or drink, either for a time or permanently, in order to help our spiritual life.
    Fasting also is meant to give us solidarity with the poor.  There are so many people in our world, and even in our very rich nation, that don’t eat because they don’t have money to buy food.  Or they rely on the generosity of neighbors and food banks to give them their daily bread.  Fasting reminds us that we are no better than them, and that we are all children of our heavenly Father.  My plan is to give up alcohol this Lent as a sign of solidarity with all those who struggle with alcoholism.
    Almsgiving means giving money or goods.  Almsgiving is, in its original sense, money or goods given to the poor.  It is an imitation of our loving Father who gives blessings to many people, no matter who they are or what they do.  Almsgiving is also stretched to mean giving money to the church or to another charitable organization.  As I mentioned in our annual stewardship report a couple of weeks ago, I am very appreciative of your generosity to the parish, to help us continue to serve you.  This current fiscal year, our Sunday and Holyday collections have accounted for 77% of our income.  Because of your generosity, I don’t talk about money that much, but, as expenses continue to grow each year, we need to keep our weekly income at least at the $7,700 per week level.  Your almsgiving to the church will decide what our staff levels and office hours are for next year.  We can only give what we can, but it’s a way of sustaining not just ourselves, but our entire faith community.
    I would encourage you not to “stumble” into Lent this year.  Take these next few days to really consider how the Lord is asking you to pray, to fast, and to give alms.  Don’t make Lent a quick diet, but by your planning and prayerful consideration of what God is calling you to do, make it a great time of spiritual growth and development!