A Relationship with the Truth

Third Sunday of Lent-First Scrutiny

    In high school I was on our own Quiz Bowl team (yes, I was a nerd).  And Lansing Catholic High School participated in the PBS TV station televised games called “Quiz Busters.”  I remember being in the championship game one year, with a one-year tuition scholarship to MSU on the line.  We were in the final Lightning Round, with either team in a position to win, and the question was asked, “In the Sistine Chapel, what color smoke…” to which I buzzed in and yelled “White!”, anticipating the rest of the question, which answer was right, and helped us win the “Quiz Busters” Championship against another school which was much larger than Lansing Catholic.
    I like to have the right answers, and there is something good about knowing the truth.  But having the right answers isn’t all there is, as we see in the Gospel today, this long Gospel that we use each year that we have an elect, a catechumen chosen by the Bishop for baptism at Easter.  The Samaritan woman has the right answers, at least most of them.  She knows that Jews do not drink from the same containers as Samaritan women, because the samaritans were pagans and it could render the Jew unclean.  She knows that to have water, you have to have a bucket to draw it out.  She gives a technically right answer when she says that she doesn’t have a husband.  And she says that Jews and Samaritans don’t agree on how and where to worship.
    But the Lord isn’t only looking for right answers.  He is looking for a relationship with her.  Now, Jesus also identifies Himself as the Truth.  So I’m not trying to say that the truth doesn’t matter.  It does.  But the truth comes in the context of a relationship with Truth Incarnate.  Jesus is trying to give the Samaritan woman eternal life, and all she can focus on is trying to give correct answers and trip Jesus up in theological debates.

    The Samaritan woman, upon entering into relationship with Jesus, recognizes that He knows her.  She says, “‘Come see a man who told me everything I have done.’”  Jesus knows her, more deeply than anyone else, though He just met her at the well.  The Samaritan woman heard Him say that He is the Christ, the Messiah, who will let everyone know what they are to believe and how they are to worship.  
    Dylan, as an elect, God already knows you.  But over these past months He has drawn you in to know Him better.  He knows everything you have done: the good, the bad, and the ugly.    But He wants to be in a relationship with you.  You have learned many important things over the past months about what it means to be Catholic and how we Catholics are called to follow Christ in our daily lives.  Being a friend of Jesus, and even more than a friend, a sibling with Jesus, means doing things that will strengthen your relationship with Him and avoiding anything that would harm that relationship with Him.  
    Through Holy Baptism, Confirmation, and reception of the Eucharist, the love of God will be poured into your heart, as St. Paul said in our second reading, “through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”  You will become an adopted son of God the Father, and God will dwell within you as in a temple.  
    As God prepares you for this, He draws you closer and closer to Himself.  The Samaritan woman changes the way she addresses Jesus as the conversation develops: she starts by calling Him “a Jew”; then, “Sir”; then “the Messiah.”  You, too, have come to know Jesus more deeply in the passing weeks and months, to be at a place where you are almost ready to profess Him as God and Savior.  
    And sometimes, like with the Samaritan woman, some of what Jesus the Savior has revealed has been painful.  I’m sure the Samaritan woman wasn’t too pleased when Christ said, “‘You are right in saying, “I do not have a husband.”  For you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband.’”  But Christ reveals our brokenness because He can heal us, and wants to heal us.  
    But this process of growing in relationship with Christ won’t end with your reception of the Sacraments of Initiation.  All of us here hopefully try to grow in our relationship with Christ each day.  Yes, we try to know the right answers, but we also try to be a good brother or sister of Christ and son or daughter of the Father.  Sometimes we miss the point, like the Samaritan woman.  Sometimes the Lord needs to convict us of sin, or sinful habits.  But everything the Lord does gives us the opportunity to grow closer to Him.  May we not squander the opportunities the Lord gives us to deepen our relationship with Him, especially this Lent, but drink from the living water which flows from the wounded side of Christ. 

Drafted for the Gospel

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

There are things for which we want to be chosen.  As adults it’s often the job that we applied for, or maybe it’s the significant other that we’ve been dating, whom we hope will ask us to marry.  As children we may want to be chosen to be on the team with our friends on the playground, or for the school play.  I think we all know that the reality is that we often don’t get chosen for the things we want.  Maybe we don’t get the job; maybe we get dumped; maybe we don’t get the role we want or are not on the team we want.

A young man I know from when I was a priest in East Lansing, Cooper Rush, was chosen again and again for football teams, despite ever-increasing odds not to be chosen.  He was the quarterback for Lansing Catholic, holds records for an MHSAA playoff game, led Lansing Catholic one year to the State Championship (where, ironically, Lansing Catholic lost to Flint Powers).  He then was chosen to play quarterback at Central Michigan University, and was very successful at Central, going to bowl games and even holding a FBS Bowl Game record for most touchdowns passes in a Bowl Game.  Currently, he is a back-up quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys.  And besides being a good athlete, he is also an upstanding man.

The odds of him making it to the NFL weren’t that good.  One stat from 2015 says that there were 1.087 million high school football players.  Of those, 310,000 high school football players were seniors.  Of those, only 70,000 were chosen to be on an NCAA football team.  Of those, on 20,000 played on an NCAA team.  Of those 20,000, about 15,500 were college seniors.  Of those 15,500 seniors, 6,500 were scouted by the NFL, and only 350 were invited to a combine to show their football skills.  Of those, 256 players were drafted by the NFL.  The odds of being chosen for high school, college, and professional football are about 1.6 out of 100.

The odds of being chosen to preach the Gospel, however, are much better.  Every baptized person has been chosen, drafted, we might say, to preach the Gospel both by deeds and words.  And while we might not think of ourselves as a draft pick, we heard in our first reading and Gospel about some unlikely characters who are chosen.

In the first reading, we hear about Jonah being asked by God to preach to the citizens of Nineveh.  God asks Jonah to tell them to repent, to turn away from their sinful, pagan ways.  Jonah didn’t want to go; he hated Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrian Empire which had exiled the members of the northern kingdom of Israel.  Jonah even tried to run away, but God did not abandon Jonah or let him off the hook.  And even when Jonah preached repentance, he hoped that the Assyrians would not listen, so that God could destroy the pagan empire.  Probably not a first round evangelist.

And in the Gospel we hear about Jesus calling the first apostles: Simon, Andrew, James, and John.  They were not rabbis.  There were not the educated elite of Judaism.  They were fishermen.  But Jesus saw something in them that He knew would be important for having as disciple.  It wasn’t always obvious to others, though.  Peter always seemed to speak before thinking, denied Jesus during His Passion, and even almost ran away from his martyrdom in Rome.  James and John were the ones who asked for a privileged spot in the kingdom of God, in front of the line of the other apostles, and asked Jesus to call down fire upon the Samaritan towns when they wouldn’t receive Jesus on His journey to Jerusalem.  And even the other apostles were not seemingly the best catch: Matthew was a tax collector; Thomas doubted; Simon wanted to violently overthrow the Roman government; and they were all uneducated, simple people.  And yet Jesus called each of them to preach the Gospel.

You may not think it, but Jesus has also called you to preach the Gospel.  When you were baptized you were committed or you committed yourself to being a disciple of Jesus, to conforming your life to His, to sharing with others the good news of what Jesus has done for us (freeing us from sin and death).  You may not think you have what it takes, but Jesus does.  And even if you feel like you need to know more, that’s why we have Bible studies, and faith sharing groups, and formational events both here, in the greater-Flint area, and across the Diocese, events like the Men’s and Women’s Conferences.  If you don’t feel like you have what it takes, then work towards that goal of having what it takes.  Make your faith life more than simply coming to Mass on Sundays and holydays.  Get involved in deepening your faith and maybe volunteering in our parish ministries.  You might just be the one to bring another person to Jesus.

Do You Love Me?

Third Sunday of Easter

            When I was a freshman at Lansing Catholic in 1998, I had the great opportunity to be cast in our production of “Fiddler on the Roof.”  To this day it remains one of my favorite musicals. The part that I was assigned, I kid you not, was the Rabbi. One of my favorite songs in that musical (and there are so many great and memorable ones) is “Do You Love Me?”

            That is, of course, the very question that Jesus asked St. Peter in today’s Gospel: “Do you love me?”  And Jesus didn’t just ask it once; He asked it three times to make up for the threefold denial that St. Peter made when Jesus was being held by the Pharisees and the Sanhedrin.  Three times St. Peter says, “‘Yes Lord, you know that I love you.’”  And then Jesus explains what love means.

Jesus said to him…“Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.”  He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God.  And when he had said this, he said to him, “Follow me.”

What must have been going through St. Peter’s mind when Jesus said this to him?

            Love, as Jesus explains to St. Peter, means binding yourself to another.  Peter binds himself to Jesus, to follow him, and even to be dressed by another and led where he does not want to go.  This was fulfilled when St. Peter was bound to the cross, upside down, and crucified, dying out of love for Jesus and following Him even through a similar form of death.

            We see how love binds in so many ways: it binds a man to a woman for life in marriage.  Because they love each other, they commit to an exclusive love for each other, a bond so strong that only death can break it.  We see how love binds in the example of parents who easily put thousands of miles on their vehicles driving Johnny and Alice to and from sports, band, plays, and other activities, even when the parent doesn’t feel like driving.

            Love binds the beloved to the lover.  And we, whether single, ordained, consecrated, or married, were all bound to another when we were baptized.  At that moment, God claimed us as one of His own in a bond which is so strong, it even survives death.  At baptism, we became the Lord’s beloved.

            But, even though love binds, that bond can be strong or it can be weak, based upon the response of the beloved to the lover.  The closer we stay with Christ, the stronger that bond is.  The more we wander away from Him, the weaker the bond is, though it is never broken.  If we wish to grow in love with God, then we must follow Him.

           

A painting of the Crucifixion of St. Peter in
the Church of Domine, Quo Vadis
outside of Rome

Each day Jesus renews His love with us.  Each day He asks us to renew our love with Him.  He asks us, “Do you love me? Will you follow me?”  Because love is free, it is never forced, but is an invitation.  Even St. Peter faltered a little.  As the story goes, when St. Peter knew that Nero was coming after him to arrest him and put him to death, St. Peter, at the advice of the Church in Rome, started to get out of Dodge.  And as he was walking on the Appian Way, he saw Jesus walking towards Rome.  This, naturally, startled St. Peter, who asked the Lord, “Domine, quo vadis?  Lord, where are you going?”  Jesus responded, “I am going to be crucified a second time.”  St. Peter than realized that he was not following Jesus, but was doing his own thing, and so returned to Rome and was crucified upside down.  We, too, falter at times, and would rather walk away from Jesus and not follow Him, but would rather do our own thing. 

            But love means being bound to the other, and in our love for God, it means following Him.  Sometimes that means that another leads us where we do not want to go.  Sometimes it means a change of heart and a change of mind so that the rule is not “my will be done,” by “thy will be done.”  It means making Him the top priority in our life, and forming our life around Him, not asking Him to form His life around us.  Sometimes it even means death.  But the beauty of love is that the beloved knows that the lover is worth it.  And in the case of our Divine Lover, God, we also know that His love is stronger than death, and He will never leave us.

            Jesus says to us in the words of the Song of Songs, “Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!  For see, the winter is past…Arise my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!”  He asks us, “Do you love me?  Will you follow me?  Will you strengthen the bond that was created when I claimed you as my own and saved you from sin and death in the waters of baptism?”  What will our response be to the love of God, a love so strong that He gave up His only Son to death so that we could live?  Do we love Him?

Patience is a Virtue

Third Sunday of Lent

            I recall a time when I was at Lansing Catholic high school, and there was a dance coming up that I was planning to attend.  And there was a particular girl I really wanted to take to the dance.  I sort of had a crush on this girl, without the sort of part.  And I remember really wanting to ask her to the dance.  But, being the analytical guy that I am, I also did not want to appear desperate and ask too early.  So I made myself a deal: I would ask this girl to the dance no more than a certain number of  days before the dance.  I day before, and I’m ready to ask.  There’s a part of me that just wants to ask on that day.  But the rational side of me reminds me that I don’t want to look desperate, and that I can wait just one more day.  I go through the final day, waiting for my opportunity to ask her to the dance when I have class with her after lunch.  I see her in class and say, “So, you got plans for the dance in a few weeks?”  “Yeah,” she says, “so-and-so (I don’t want to use real names, since some of you knew me in high school) just asked me yesterday.”  “Great!”  I said, trying to play off the fact that I felt stupid for waiting that extra day.  “I’m sure you’ll have a great time together.”

            Now, if this were a modern-day fable, we would probably guess that the moral of the story is not to be patient, because you can miss out on opportunities that you might otherwise have.  And there are certainly times when being pro-active is key. 

            But even though I didn’t get what I wanted, and it seemed to be because “he who hesitates is lost,” as the saying goes, I ended up having a great time at the dance with a different girl, and my patience (which I’m still not really known for) paid off.

            Patience is a virtue with which I think most people struggle.  It’s hard to be patient, whether with family members, co-workers, people on the road, etc.  Whenever I fly I don’t want to have to wait between my flights; I would rather just land, make it to my gate, and then take off as soon as I’m ready.  Technology hasn’t made patience any easier.  Anytime I want to know something, I just type in the question to Google on my iPhone, and get an answer.  Or, if I’m really impatient, I just ask Siri to find me the answer so I don’t have to waste time typing.

            And yet, our readings today focus us precisely on patience.  In our first reading, we hear about Moses being called by God to lead the Chosen People from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land.  What does that have to do with patience?  Well, by the time the Israelites left Egypt, it had been 430 years since Joseph and his family had fled the famine in Canaan and set up residence in Egypt.  That’s a long time!  And what does God say?  “‘I have witnessed the affliction of my people in Egypt and have heard their cry of complaint against their slave drivers, so I know well what they are suffering.’”  Now, our modern, impatient tendencies would probably lead us to say wonder what in the world took so long to find someone.  Why wait over four centuries to free the People that God had made His own?  To be honest, we don’t know why.  But God was patient, knowing that He would send Moses at just the right time to command that the Israelites go free, and that, when Pharaoh refused, God would manifest His power over all creation to convince the Egyptians to let the Israelites go.

            Or take the fig tree from the end of today’s Gospel.  Our modern, impatient tendencies would be to cut down the tree.  It’s had enough time to produce fruit, and it’s not, so don’t give it another chance to continue to waste precious water and nutrients in the ground.  Cut it down, and plant a new tree.  But the gardener asks for some patience, to give the tree one more year to produce fruit before it is cut down, and the orchard owner agrees.

            God is patient.  He is never in a rush to act.  And while we may complain about that, we should also give thanks for God’s patience, because it’s His patience that has allowed us time to repent.  Imagine if God were as impatient as us: how many times would he give us before He stopped allowing us to repent and turn back to Him?  And yet, each Lent, and even each time we come to Mass, we tell God that we are sorry for our lack of love for Him, and ask Him to give us another chance and more time.  God knows the fullness of time, and He knows when certain things need to happen.  Whether it was freeing the Israelites, sending us a Savior, the call of St. Paul, or any of the other aspects of Salvation History, God is patient and gives His People a chance to turn back to Him and choose life and holiness, not death and sin.

            If we are going to be like God, then we, too, need patience.  We need to be patient with others and not condemn or judge others so quickly.  We need to be patient with ourselves and realize that, while some conversions happen quickly, many happen slowly, over time, but are longer lasting.  We need to be patient with God and realize that His time is always the right time, even when we think something needs to happen sooner, or immediately.  God is not our Siri that we can make tell us the answers immediately.  God’s time is according to His own plan that often is above our understanding, and is always for the best. 

            God calls us today to pray for patience.  But, realize that, when we pray for it, God will give us opportunities to be patient, times and people that try our patience, so that we can grow in that virtue.  Don’t worry; be patient.

Sophomores

Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            I was talking to a high school student from Lansing Catholic a couple of weeks ago.  He was showing me his iPod and all the songs he had on it, and talking about how the songs he had were true music.  So, I showed him my iTunes library on my phone to compare.  As it turns out, according to him, I only had a few songs that were actually “music.”  The rest was just “noise,” apparently.  Now, sometimes high school students in any grade know it all.  But if there’s one class that epitomizes the attitude that they know it all  (because, after all, they’ve studied) it would certainly be a sophomore.  You see, in general, freshmen know that they don’t know anything and that they’re just starting out.  Juniors and have studied enough to realize that, while they know a lot in their particular area of interest, that they have only scratched the surface of available knowledge.  Sophomores, on the other hand, think they know it all, but haven’t learned enough to realize that they don’t: a particularly dangerous combination.  But that’s why we use the word sophomore to describe their class year: it comes from the Greek words sophia and moros, meaning wisdom and fool.  Sophomores are, again in general, wise fools.

            The Word of God in today’s readings talks about wisdom, and sets before us two types of wisdom: the wisdom of the wicked, and the wisdom from above.  Our first reading focuses on the wisdom of the wicked.  In their mind, the just one needs to be eliminated, or “taken care of,” as a wise guy might say.  The wicked consider a holy person obnoxious, and they are insulted by his correction of their faults.  They are ready to put the just one to the test and see if all this “God talk” adds up, and if God will really protect His so-called servant.  The wicked see a holy life as a threat and a danger to their way of life, and so they have to destroy it so that they can continue in their own way. 

            The wisdom from above, on the other hand, is “pure, then peaceable, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits, without inconstancy or insincerity.”  It is a different way of looking at the world.  It does not waver in the face of threats, and is always sincere and true.  It seeks peace, not just an absence of conflict, but true justice for all.  It forgives wrongs and does not go looking for a fight.  Jesus also tells us in the Gospel that the wisdom from above turns the wisdom of the world on its head.  Whereas in the view of the world the truly great person is the one who is in charge of everything, in the wisdom from above, the great person is the one who is the servant of all. 

            If it were that easy to pick out the two types of wisdom, our world would probably be a better place.  But we are beset by weakness, but concupiscence, the desire for lesser goods, and the wisdom of the wicked often looks more enjoyable, more attractive.  When it comes to skipping class, or alcohol, or sex outside of marriage, the wisdom of the wicked seems much more appealing.  But wisdom from above gives true happiness, not just passing pleasure.

            If we are truly convinced that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, the Life, rather than just one way, or one truth, or one life, then we who have the wisdom from above should seek to share it with others.  If the Gospel truly is Good News, and true wisdom, than to keep it to ourselves not only does us harm, but also does those who need to hear that Good News and that wisdom harm.  That is one way that we serve others: by sharing with them the wisdom and joy that we have in Christ.  Have you asked a roommate or a friend, whom you know is Catholic but is not coming to Mass, to join you on Sundays for Mass, or for men’s or women’s group?  We are not called to condemn, but to invite.  We warn others about the dangers of the wisdom of the wicked, but we do not cajole others into joining us.  We simply extend an open hand of love and joy. 

            When those who are wise in wickedness are confronted—by a friend, a family member, or religion—it’s always portrayed as people just trying to rain on the parade.  We may be called obnoxious by our friends.  Laziness, drunkenness, and debauchery look like a ton of fun.  And they certainly are pleasurable.  But they do not lead to happiness.  They quickly fade, and often leave a path of destruction in this world.  Meanwhile, the just, those striving for holiness, often put up with a lot more suffering, a lot more pain, certainly less pleasure in the eyes of the world.  But, if God created the world, and He knows best how it works, and He is the best answer for the desire of every human heart, then following the wisdom from above makes sense, not just in this world, but also in the world to come.  A life of restraint and service is what makes for a great life, not a life of license and using others.  It’s upside down from our view.  But if we take it from God’s perspective, then it’s just the way God intended it. 

            We can stay sophomores in our faith; we can be wise fools.  God gives us that freedom.  We can pretend that we can do whatever we want now, and just make up for it in some possible future act of repentance that we may never make.  Or, we can be truly wise, and move beyond our sophomoric ways, and live by the wisdom that comes from above, that gives us and those around us true peace and joy.  And then, being truly wise, we will see the need to serve others by sharing with them the wisdom from above, so that they can find that peace and joy that we have by living a truly wise life.

Being Intimate

75^th Anniversary of the Diocese of Lansing

            When I was at Lansing Catholic High School as a student from 1998-2002, our principal was famous for one phrase: “Don’t dig yourself a hole.”  While many of us in the class heard it so often that we started to make light of it, as  high school students are wont to do, looking back, it was great advice which serves a person well in academics, sports, and extra-curriculars of any kind.    In essence, what our principal was saying was that starting out is very important in anything we do to being successful in the long run.

            As we begin our Year of Prayer as a Diocese, our Gospel starts us out strong, because we begin with the prayer of Jesus, the one who prays perfectly.  In our Gospel passage, we are allowed to enter into the private, intimate exchange between the Father and Son, just as the apostles were at the Last Supper, when this prayer was originally prayed. 

            Our Year of Prayer, as a Diocese, is precisely about entering into that intimate relationship between the Father and the Son, a love so strong that it breathes forth the Holy Spirit.  And we can only do so because we have been consecrated by Christ in Baptism.  We have been consecrated into the truth.  And because of that consecration we can take part in the pouring forth of love between Father and Son and Holy Spirit, which forms the foundation of any true love that exists in the entire universe.  How blest we are to be able to listen to the words of Love Incarnate to His Father!  Without God’s permission, we could never presume, as creatures, to be worthy of hearing that dialogue.  But God welcomes us, through Jesus, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to not only observe the dialogue, but to become part of it in Christ. 

            In this Mass, we celebrate the dialogue in ritual ways.  God speaks to us grace and peace, and we respond.  God speaks His Word, and we say, “Thanks be to God.”  Jesus ultimate gift of love to the Father, His very self on the cross, is re-presented for us on this altar of sacrifice in the Eucharist.  And this act of love is so great that we are invited to respond after the Words of Institution and I remind us that this is the Mystery of Faith. 

            Celebrating Mass, this celebration, is the best thing that I will ever do in my life.  Joining in the celebration with me is the best thing you will ever do in your life.  Nothing can top it, except heaven, of which this Mass is an anticipation.  In the reality of God, there is no more intimate union with God then what happens right here, because we are involved in the total gift of the Son, in whom we are members through Baptism, to the Father.

            But we are not given this great gift so that we can keep it to ourselves.  Jesus does not consecrate us and allows us to share in the most powerful, intimate love ever just to keep it to ourselves.  We then are called to be in union with Jesus, all of us together, through His teachings, given to us in Scripture and in the teachings of the Church.  And we are also called to share it with others, so that the world will believe that God sent Jesus, and that God loves us even as He loves Jesus.  And when we share that love with others, in union of action and belief with who Jesus is and what He teaches us through the Scriptures and His Body, the Church, then others want that.  They hunger for it.  They want that love, because they were created for that love.

            Each week, in the Mass, we enter into the most powerful, most intimate love ever: the love of the Trinity Who is Love itself.  Each week, if we receive the Body and Blood worthily, we are given grace to then share that love with others.  During this Year of Prayer, draw deeper into the love of God by growing deeper in love with the Mass, and with daily prayer which continues that love each day.  And then share that love with others, so that all may be joined to Christ in His Church, and experience the Love that God has for us.

Marathon Mindset

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Before the beginning of the school year, all the Catholic School teachers from the Diocese of Lansing met at Lansing Catholic for an in-service.  One of the teachers from Queen of the Miraculous Medal parish in Jackson texted me in the middle of the in-service and wrote, “We were just in the gym at Lansing Catholic, and I saw school records in track held by Strouse.  Are those yours?”  I had to reply, “No.  While I did run track, I never broke any school records.  Those are my sisters.” 

            Allison, my youngest sister, graduated from Lansing Catholic in 2006 and holds records in the 200 and 400m dash, and the 400, 800, and 1600m relay.  Amanda, my other sister, also ran track, but really excelled in cross-country.  In fact, one of the awards at Aquinas College is named after her, based upon her skills on the course and in the classroom.  Amanda was always a really good long distance runner, and she just completed her first marathon a few weeks ago in Grand Rapids.  I think she get it from my parents, both of whom ran cross country, and both of whom have run marathons, including Boston.

            Marathon runners have a different way of thinking about things.  They’re in it for the long haul.  They don’t have to accomplish everything in a short period of time.  They have a long ways to run, and they know that if they just keep a good, steady pace, they’ll make it to the end.

            There’s no evidence that the wise virgins were marathon runners, but they certainly had that way of looking at life.  They were most concerned about being ready when the bridegroom was coming.  They knew it wasn’t simply about getting their first.  They had to make sure that they had enough oil to make it to the end.  The foolish virgins, on the other hand, were not thinking about the end, but expected the bridegroom to come shortly. 

            It doesn’t take a Scripture scholar to recognize that this parable is about the return of Jesus at the end of time.  In these last weeks of Ordinary Time we pay particular attention to the end of the world as a reminder that what we have now is not always going to be here.  The world will not continue forever.  Jesus will return to usher in a new heaven and a new earth, where the sinful will go to their eternal punishment of separation from God, as their actions while on earth showed they wanted, while the just will go to their eternal reward of perfect happiness with God in heaven, as their actions while on earth showed their wanted. 

            Recently, there has been no small number of people claiming the world is going to end soon.  It’s as if they forgot to read our second reading today, where St. Paul has to calm the Thessalonians down because they’re worried about the short term: some of their friends and family members have died before Jesus came again, so what’s going to happen to them?  St. Paul takes the “marathon” approach, reminding the people that, although Christ hasn’t yet returned, he will, and those who have fallen asleep in death will be raised first, then we who remain will be caught up with the dead “in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.”  In other words, St. Paul is telling them to be the wise virgins who are keeping oil for their lamps so that, whenever the Divine Bridegroom comes, they will be ready.

            Our Divine Bridegroom, Jesus, is Wisdom incarnate, the Wisdom we heard about in the first reading.  If we love the Lord, then we will receive Him; if we seek Him, then we will find Him.  If we wait for Him at the dawn, then we shall not be disappointed.  Our entire life: marriage, family, work, school, recreation: all of it has to be entered into with the mindset of the wise virgins or the marathon runners.  If we are living life each day in a Christ-centered way, waiting for the return of our Lord and Savior, then the coming of Christ will not shock us, or confuse us, but will be the finish line to the steady pace we’ve been keeping.  It means that we strive, to the best of our ability, to be ready at any moment for the Lord to return and welcome His faithful disciples into his Heavenly Kingdom.

            Otherwise we are like the foolish virgins, the ones who figure, “I’ve got time; I’ll have my fun today, doing whatever I want, and then, when I’m older, I’ll be sorry and change my ways.”  What happens to those people is that the coming of Christ, whether in death or at the second coming, catches them off guard; they are not prepared.  And then they have to go and get more oil for their lamps, and while they are gone, the doors are locked, and, no matter how much we cry to be let in, the Bridegroom will say, “‘Amen I say to you, I do not know you.’”

            Keeping that steady pace means keeping a daily habit of prayer, communication with the Lord Jesus, of brining our faith into all that we do, rather than compartmentalizing our lives into different segments, some of which we use our faith, but others of which are purely secular, where we feel Jesus has no place.  Keeping extra oil means that we live a life of regular repentance through personal acts of penance like giving up certain foods or certain good things, not just in Lent, but each month and each week, to train ourselves to be focused mainly on Jesus.  Being ready for the Bridegroom to come means that we prepare our hearts and souls through the Sacraments to welcome Him who is communicated though the Sacraments.  For, “whoever for [Wisdom’s] sake keeps vigil shall quickly be free from care.”

How to be a Holy Family

Feast of the Holy Family

            A few weeks ago I had the great pleasure to visit Lansing Catholic High School and talk with the sophomores in Theology class.  Part of the class was spent talking about how I had discerned that the Lord was calling me to be a priest.  The other part of the class was answering prepared questions that they had penned anonymously.  One of the many great questions they asked was why marriage and family isn’t talked about more.  And so, here we are, at the feast of the Holy Family, the day after Christmas, when we get to focus on family life, including marriage.

            Having a holy family, based upon the example of the Holy Family, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, is often thought of as impossible.  After all, Jesus is fully God and fully man, Mary was conceived without original sin, and Joseph kept getting these dreams from God to tell him what to do to care for the Blessed Mother and the Christ Child. 

Statues of the Holy Family in Flight to Egypt,
in Bethlehem, the West Bank

            But what made the Holy Family holy?  It was that, in every circumstance, they were obedient to the will of the Lord.  They were always ready to say “yes” to God, even if it meant leaving home and family to go to Egypt, so that Jesus would be protected from King Herod’s murderous decree.

            The life the Holy Family led was not easy!  Following the will of God included challenges, real and monumental challenges. But still, despite the trials and tribulations, they were resolute in saying “yes” to God.

            Things have not gotten any easier for families in the two millennia since Christ walked the earth.  Too many mothers feel forced to kill their unborn child because there is no support from the father of the child or from the mother’s family; marriage as it was created by God, between a man and a woman for life, seems to be under constant attack from the secular culture in the name of a false view of compassion and diversity; too many children do not have enough to eat or drink because of underemployment and unemployment; families, especially in our own State, have had to leave their homes and families in search or a stable job in other States.

            How hard it is to say “yes” to God these days! To choose life in a culture of death; to take seriously the call of every husband and wife, not just to be open to life and have children, but to raise them and form them in the faith, starting with the life of faith lived out at home, but also including trying to make sure that children receive the best education and religious formation possible; to stand up for the indissolubility of the marital bond between a man and a woman.  While many of the challenges are different now then they were in first-century Palestine, striving for holiness as a family, striving to say “yes” to the will of God in all circumstances, is no easier.

            In the midst of these trials, and many others that I have not named, the Church stands behind you!  While we need priests to bring the sacramental life to the People of God, most especially the Eucharist, we also need families to fill the culture with the Gospel; to preach Christ crucified and raised from the dead; to pass on the faith to their children.  From these holy families will come holy priests, and more holy families to continue to prepare the way of the Lord and make straight His paths.

            How does the Church stand behind you?  First and foremost through the Sacraments which give you the grace to be holy families.  It is impossible to be a holy family without the grace, the inner life, the love, of God in you.  And so we stand ready to impart that grace to you through the Sacraments.  We also stand with you to help you through the tough times, whether they are financial or emotional.  Through the work of so many great services that the Church offers, we can help you to choose life, even if no one else wants to support you in that choice; to find a way to provide for your children; to talk problems out and find counseling for the times when families are struggling to simply be civil in dialogue; to give your children the full benefit of a quality academic and religious formation, especially in our Catholic schools, so that they can become, not only good citizens of the City of Man, to quote St. Augustine, but more importantly good citizens of the City of God. 

            I could spend hours talking about all the ways that we as a parish community help each other out to be holy families.  Our St. Vincent de Paul Society works tirelessly, not only to provide clothes, but also to help with utility payments, and other basic necessities, especially after one or two members of the household have lost their jobs and are coming up a little short to keep a roof over their heads. 

            Our students do great work with Alternative Spring Break, and so many members of the permanent community here help them in many ways, to provide basic necessities for the underprivileged members of our nation and in other countries.

            Our Right to Life committee works hard to make sure that new mothers and fathers know that there are people who will support them in bringing their child to term and providing for the needs of the family during pregnancies.

            Our school children provided a vast amount of presents to families that otherwise would have gone without this year, spreading their own blessings out to those who are struggling.  And our pastor, teachers, and family members of the school are very generous in ensuring that, if a child of our parish wants to attend our great school, and receive the quality education and formation which it provides, money will not be the issue that prevents that desire from becoming a reality.

            The Holy Family had challenges in living a holy life, and families today have challenges in living a holy life.  But the basic ingredient in the Holy Family’s life, and in any family’s life that wants to be holy, is saying “yes” to God: in the big things and in the small, seemingly insignificant things.  But remember, you are never alone.  We as a Church: the saints in heaven like Mary and Joseph, and those still struggling here on earth to make it heaven, are behind you 100% so that you can say “yes” to God.