Doctor Gratiae and Darth Vader

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  One of the things that can easily frustrate Catholics is when they are striving to live a holy life, but they aren’t quite getting there.  They go to Mass on Sundays; they go to confession on a regular basis; they pray the Rosary and/or the Divine Mercy chaplet; they have a crucifix and holy water in their home; etc.  And yet, they are still struggling with sin, be it venial or mortal.  They want to walk according to the spirit, but they all too often find themselves giving in to the flesh.  They desire the fruits of the Spirit, but they at least occasionally give in to the works of the flesh.
    This tug of war is because there are two still two masters in our hearts and souls, and we’re oscillating between the two.  We may be primarily for Christ, but we leave some part of ourselves, however small, open to the mastery of the evil one, and so he takes whatever opportunities he can to steal us away from our Lord.
    We know in our minds that we want to serve God and that our happiness lies in Him.  We know, as St. Paul teaches, that the wages of sin is death.  We know that sin distracts or even derails us from our final destination of heaven.  And yet, we choose to sin time and time again.

    St. Augustine of Hippo, the great Doctor of Grace, provides us with a stark example of this inner turmoil.  Though he became a catechumen at a young age, he writes in his Confessions that he did not live the faith as a young boy or young man.  He writes how, around the age of 16, he gave himself entirely over to lustful actions.  This terrorized his mother, but his father, also not yet a Catholic, seems to have figured it a normal part of life.  Things didn’t get better as 18-year-old Augustine moved to Carthage.  He writes, “desire had grown, and when desire is given satisfaction, habit is forged; and when habit passes unresisted, a compulsive urge sets in.  He took one mistress, with whom he had his son, Adeodatus (whose name means “gift given from God”), and then took a different mistress.  
    Through his studies, though, even while he meandered through various heresies, he began to see the truths of the faith as truth, and his mind grew convicted to join the Catholic Church through baptism.  Still, his will resisted what his mind longed to grasp, such that his prayer became, “Give me chastity…but not yet.”  
    This struggle between the two masters–Christ and his sin-driven will–frustrated him more and more each day.  It finally led to what appears to be a kind of mental breakdown, bringing him to tears over his dilemma.  But it was in that moment, in his utter brokenness, that he heard the voice of a small child say, “Tolle, lege,” “Take and read.”  He did what no good spiritual director would ever recommend: he played Biblical roulette, trying to turn to a random page to see what it would say, and read Romans 13:13-14.  The Apostle wrote, “let us conduct ourselves properly as in the day, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in promiscuity and licentiousness, not in rivalry and jealousy.  But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh.”  The grace that had been building in him in his search for the truth finally broke the dam of his will, and he found the freedom he desired, and the gentle yoke of Christ under which he was glad to bind himself.
    Perhaps our sins are not so grave.  Perhaps the conversion of our fallen wills will not be so dramatic.  But that same back and forth happens in so many Catholics, dealing with many types of sin, not just lust.  So many struggle with patience, or gossip, or judgement.  They want to do better, but they keep finding themselves in similar situations and confessing the same faults when they seek out the Sacrament of Penance.
    The example of St. Augustine reminds us that part of committing ourselves to the master we know we want to serve, Christ, is to persevere in fighting our temptations, no matter how strong, no matter how persistent.  The great bishop of North Africa, in his days before baptism, never fully acquiesced to the realities he knew to be false: that true freedom and happiness could be found in sin.  Sometimes all he had was his mind to tell him that sin did not lead to joy and hope, but he never abandoned that mind that guided him closer and closer to the truth.  

    In a very secular example, it’s like Darth Vader.  In the original three movies, especially episodes V and VI, George Lucas makes clear that there is good in Vader, and Luke Skywalker, his hidden son, senses it.  Even while Vader seems to resist that goodness; even while he attacks Luke, Luke knows that there is still a battle going on in Vader’s soul between light and darkness.  Even as Emperor Palpatine tortures Luke while Darth Vader looks on, the battle rages until (spoiler alert), Vader stops the torture and kills Emperor Palpatine (or at least, that’s what happened until they made the latest three movies, where being thrown down a shaft that explodes no longer kills a person).  Vader apologizes to Luke, and becomes, once again, the Jedi he should have been in his final breaths.
    Whether it’s a fourth and fifth century saint, or a fictional character that demonstrates the point to us better, our life is a choice between two masters.  Not just God and mammon, the pagan god of riches and greed, but between God and whatever sin we leave room for in our hearts.  May we persevere in continuing to fight for the mastery of Christ, the mastery that does not enslave us like sin does, but grants us the true freedom to choose the good and to live in the happiness that is desired for each of us by God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Pray, Hope, and Don't Worry

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Recently more and more journalists are reporting that sometime around the middle of this month, Pope Francis will further restrict celebrations of the Mass using the Missal of Pope St. John XXIII.  And while I’m loathe to accept rumors and gossip as fact, two previous similar situations have proven that, at times, rumors and gossip do have a ring of truth.
    I cannot and will not go into detail now about speculating on what will happen after Rome releases this document, if there will be, in fact, a document as feared, because we don’t know what it will say.  I have, through the Diocese of Lansing’s Office of Worship, asked Bishop Boyea to release a pastoral letter to the communities that celebrate using the Usus antiquior if further restrictions are levied against us.  Certainly, in times of upheaval and strife, the words of the spiritual father of our Diocese are most important.
    But what do we do until then?  One temptation is to worry.  But our Lord told us quite directly not to do that.  “Do not worry about your life…” he said in Matthew, chapter 6.  “Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?”  Worry is what the enemy seeks to have us do, because when we worry we try to take the place of God where everything has to be in our own hands for an appropriate answer and resolution.  No amount of worrying will change anything, but it will exhaust us and cause us to lack trust in God, who can do all things.

    St. Pio of Pietrelcina, more commonly known as Padre Pio, would say it this way: “Pray, hope, and don’t worry.”  Prayer is something we can do.  When we pray we take our concerns to God, for whom all things are possible.  Whether we pray Rosaries, or litanies, or novenas, or simple Paters and Aves, prayer draws us closer to the Sacred Heart, which always benefits us.  In prayer we become like the beloved disciple, St. John, who leaned his head against the breast of our Savior at the Last Supper.  And that is not a bad place to be.
    Obedience is also key.  St. Augustine of Hippo once wrote, “If you believe what you like in the Gospel, and reject what you don’t like, it is not the Gospel you believe, but yourself.”  Analogously, we could say that if we only obey what we like, and disobey when we don’t like something, then we are not truly obedient.  Pope Francis, whatever we may think about the reasons for any upcoming decision, is the Pope.  He was validly elected.  If he weren’t, I’m sure Cardinal Burke, who was present for the election, would have said something by now.  I don’t have to agree with all of Pope Francis’s decisions.  I don’t have to find that his words or actions always to help foster faith.  But I do owe him, as Supreme Pontiff, religious submission of will and intellect.  And Popes have always retained the authority to adjust the form of the sacraments and the way the Mass is celebrated.  Pope St. Pius V did so in eliminating rites that were less than 100 years old.  Pope St. John XXIII did it when he added St. Joseph’s name to the Canon.  Pope Benedict XVI (who should be canonized) did it when he gave all individual priests that authority to celebrate using the pre-Conciliar liturgy. 
    In my time here, I have observed almost none of the criticisms which Pope Francis has leveled against those who prefer the Traditional Latin Mass.  Very few deny the dogmatic and doctrinal authority of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, even while some (quite rightly) do point out issues in its implementation.  Very few do what Cardinal Burke has condemned: lacking respect and obedience to the Holy Father by simply referring to him as Bergoglio or using other words to describe him which are not fitting for Catholics when referring to the pontiff.  Most, if not all, even while struggling with some of the things Pope Francis says (as do I, at times) pray for him and seek only to be good Catholics who appreciate the entire 2,000 year history of the Church, and prefer to worship using the older Mass.  We have united well in our parish with those who worship using the Missal of Pope St. Paul VI, and I truly believe we are united as one parish, not a divisive group within a parish.  So the attacks that some level against us are not true, and we suffer quietly those detractions, as St. Peter, our first pontiff, encouraged us to do.
    We also remain true to our conscience.  Conscience is a word that has been warped in the past decades.  Right now, most consider conscience as simply what they want to do or what they feel in their gut is right.  But conscience is the voice of God, and so God cannot contradict Himself, nor what He has revealed as true for the past 2,000 years.  Conscience has to be aided by the study of Church teaching, both in the Scriptures and in the Magisterial pronouncements.  Conscience is our practical application of those teachings in individual circumstances, not the changing of teachings to fit individual circumstances.  And the Church is very clear: whoever knows the Catholic Church to be necessary for salvation, but purposely chooses to leave her, cannot be saved.  We must follow our conscience, even if it errs.  But we have the responsibility to make sure our conscience is formed so that we can hear God’s voice and not rely only on our gut or instinct.
    When a recent parishioner who attends this Mass brought up to me the now-more-pervasive stories about further restrictions, his approach was an inspiring act of faith.  He simply said that he would trust God and not worry about what was ahead, because God is in control.  He said he chose not to worry because worrying wouldn’t accomplish anything productive, and could prove quite destructive.  I applaud that man’s faith, and hope that we can all emulate it. 
    Be assured of this: as your local shepherd, your pastor, and your spiritual father, I will never lead you away from what I believe to be the truth and the best course of action.  I will ardently yet gently encourage you to stay with the Church, even as waves sometimes seem to pummel the barque of Peter.  I will never encourage anything which I believe will endanger your eternal salvation, and I will do whatever I can to make sure that the Mass is still celebrated reverently according to whatever legitimate laws we need to follow.  I pray that you will not worry, but you will pray and entrust this present trial to God.  I pray that we will all have the wisdom to know when to be obedient and how best to do that.  And in this way, we can be assured that we are not simply those who say, “Lord, Lord,” but are truly those who do the will of our heavenly Father, and so prepare ourselves for heaven, where He lives and reigns with the Son in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.  

The Virtuous Life and the Fruits of the Spirit

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I am a rule follower.  It’s part of my personality.  Yes, I may bend a few rules here and there, but generally, if there’s a rule, I follow it.  It’s like one of my favorite Dwight Schrute quotes from the TV show “The Office”: “Whenever I’m about to do something, I think, ‘Would an idiot do that?’  And if they would, I do not do that thing.”  So when St. Paul tells us not to be immoral, impure, licentious, idolatrous, get involved in sorcery, hatred, rivalry, jealousy, fury, selfishness, envy, drunkenness, and orgies, I just say, “Ok, don’t do those things.  There must be some good reason why St. Paul would say not to get involved in those things.” 
    But others need more explanation than I usually require from a Church authority.  Others might ask why not do those things?  They sound fun and pleasurable.  Why shouldn’t I do what feels good?  And the question itself is not bad.  God doesn’t just tell us to do or not do something like a despot.  If He warns against an action, there’s a good reason.  And if He asks us to do something, it’s for our growth in holiness.
    St. Paul alludes to some of those reasons toward the end of the epistle.  He describes the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Those attributes are proper to God, and are outgrowths of being like God in our human nature.  When we practice those fruits, we show forth how God is working in our life.
    But there’s also a kind of perfection of the human person that is taking place when we practice those fruits of the spirit.  At least for our better self, we would rather be around loving people, joyful people, peaceful people, kind people, etc.  Being around a person who has no self-control is tiring and confusing.  You never know what he is going to do or she is going to say.  The conversation can change from one point to another on the turn of a dime.  There is no consistency or follow-through with a person who simply follows his or her passions whenever they arise. 
    Aristotle, even unaided by the light of grace, wrote in his Nichomachean Ethics that true happiness comes from being who we are.  As a pagan, he saw humans merely as a rational animal.  But even as a pagan, he knew that our happiness relied on us living in a rational way, not living according to our passions.  And so he set out virtues, excellences of choosing to do what was most reasonable, rather than being deficient in a proper passion, or an excess of that passion that went beyond reason.  For example, Aristotle talks about how the virtue of courage helps us to face what is difficult or what brings us the passion of fear, like a soldier fighting to protect his country.  Yes, there is fear of injury or death, but the virtuous soldier does not give in to that passion, but fights in the face of the prospect of getting wounded or dying in battle.  The deficiency of courage is cowardice, where one does not stand and fight when one should.  The excess of courage is rashness, where one does not appreciate appropriate danger that one has no possibility of vanquishing, and foolishly fights when a tactical retreat is more appropriate. 
    The list of the fruits of the spirit is really a list of virtues which are aided by grace.  Take, for example, joy.  Joy helps us to find happiness in celebratory moments or moments that draw us closer to heaven.  This fruit of the spirit takes practice, to train us not to be sad any time something difficult comes our way that we do not enjoy.  It takes asking the Holy Spirit to help us to be happy and to realize that we belong to Christ, and so nothing can shake us from His loving embrace.  It does not mean that we cannot be sad, like at a funeral, but it allows us to know that Christ died for our salvation, and the deceased person’s earthly trials are done, and hopefully they are at least in Purgatory or even in heaven, and will be united with God for ever. 
    But we cannot have those fruits of the spirit if we follow our passions.  As our Lord said in the Gospel, we cannot serve two masters.  If we make our passions our master, they will enslave us.  There are so many people enslaved to lustful passions, and those people tend not to be as loving as they could be, as joyful as they could be, etc.  But, when we make Christ our Master, He shows us how to choose the good, which frees us to be the most human we can be, as He created us to be. 
    Even on earth, people who always give in to their passions tend to be the most miserable.  If you always take what you want, regardless of whether or not it belongs to you, you can easily wind up in jail for stealing.  If you always give in to your anger, it usually comes out physically and you can get in trouble with the law for assault or violent crimes, and end up in jail.  While jail is not as tough as it used to be, it’s not a fun place.  It is the opposite of the freedom which every human desires.
    And beyond earth, to the life that comes after death, if we always give in to our passions, if we willingly put ourselves into the shackles of sin, then our eternal destiny will not be a surprise, but neither will it be pleasant.  On the other hand, if we live according to grace and virtue, becoming more and more friends of God by what we do and what we say, then our eternal destiny will not be a surprise, but it will be eternal bliss in the fullness of the friendship with God that we sought on earth. 
    God gives us commands and He reveals perfections, not simply as a fiat, but according to our perfection as human beings.  Whether we more easily just follow what God says because He says it, or if we seek to understand why God says and the reasons behind it, God calls us to true freedom in Him, to be examples of the fruits of the spirit to those we meet, and draw them into friendship with our Triune God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Two Sides of the Coin

 Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  The cliché phrase is: there are two sides to every coin.  Some use this phrase to talk about how there are different points of view.  Others use the phrase as some Manichean view that good and evil are balanced.  The first is an important consideration.  The second is just wrong.  But I want to use this phrase as the two ways to approach growth in holiness and preparation for heaven.

    The one side of the coin, we’ll call this one tails, is the things that we shouldn’t do.  We might call it a via negativa.  St. Paul outlines these in his epistle to the Galatians today.  He is basically saying, “Don’t be immoral, impure, licentious, worship false gods, do sorcery, hate others, encourage rivalry, jealousy, or fury, be selfish, divide others, envy others, drink too much, etc.”  He’s telling us all the things we shouldn’t do.  And he makes clear the reason for what he warns us against: “those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.”  So this is pretty serious stuff.  
    This via negativa is important, and is one valid way of approaching holiness.  We need to know the things that we shouldn’t do because they are contrary to God’s law, natural law, or legitimate human law.  Think about it like driving: you need to know that you can’t drive through an intersection at a red light or at a stop sign, or you can’t drive the wrong way down the road.  Such things will get you (and others) injured or maybe even killed.  It’s not like we just tell 16 year olds to drive safely, and then give them the keys to the car without letting them know there are things they should not do.  A world without the word no while driving is like driving in Flint sometimes, where some people just run red lights and stop signs or speed because they do whatever they feel like.
    Or, think about it with the image of food.  We teach children what to eat and what not to eat, not merely in a dietary sense (eat healthy foods, avoid junk food), but even in the sense of foods that might do you harm.  We don’t simply say, “Just make sure you’re eating the right types of food,” and then let a kid chomp down on some raw chicken, or let the child figure out that bread which looks like it’s growing green fur is not a good thing to eat.  We tell that person there are things which should not be eaten at all, and things which need to be cooked before we can eat them.  The no that we teach kids and young adults when it comes to food can end up saving their lives.  
    But let’s say that you’ve handled the negatives well.  You stop at red lights and you don’t eat moldy bread.  Still, you feel like there is more.  That’s because there is.  The other side of the coin, we’ll call it heads, is the positive things that we do.  St. Paul talks about these, too: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.”  You might say that you don’t struggle with sexual sins, or bouts of rage, or seeking to divide people, or worshiping false gods.  Good!  How are you at loving others, especially those who don’t treat you well?  Can you maintain peace and joy when things don’t go your way, and you cant’s understand the customer service agent on the other end of the phone?  How do you give to others, whether your time, talent, or treasure?  
    These things to which we say yes are important, too.  There is an ease to driving when we know how, beyond simply the “don’t do these things.”  It can become enjoyable, even relaxing, in the right context.  Or a good cook can go beyond not eating raw chicken or moldy bread.  He or she knows how to combine different flavors, how long to cook the meat to keep the flavor but avoid sickness, and how to provide not only sustenance, but enjoyment in dining.  This past Friday I buried a Polish woman who loved to cook traditional Polish foods.  As her child and grandchildren got older, they wanted to know how to make the food she did.  But the struggle was that the amount of spices she used were not measured by spoons or cups, but by shakes and pinches.  The dough was ready when it felt a certain way between her fingers.  She had moved beyond the restrictions of what not to do, to making those foods without much consideration because she knew how to in the core of her being.
    We priests can often preach about what not to do, and that’s important, especially for those who are young in the faith.  But as we mature in the faith, we also need to emphasize the things to do, the ways that we can say yes to God, not simply no to sin.  
    And this can even be seen in our Lord’s teaching on worrying.  He tells us not to worry about what we are to eat, drink, or wear.  God, He tells us, will take care of us.  The no, in this case, is no to worrying.  The yes in this case is to seeking the will of God.  But contained within those are other things to avoid and things to pursue.  Don’t buy a new toy, when you haven’t paid for your basic necessities according to your vocation.  Do pray to God when you want to make a big purchase.  Don’t become a penny-pincher whose only concern is material stability, where money or mammon becomes a false god.  Do trust in God with your life and security, and have confidence in giving to those who are in need.  Christ knew when to walk through fields of grain, and He knew when to go to Martha and Mary’s house for a good meal.  The Apostles kept a small money bag for their needs, but also trusted that God would somehow provide at the feeding of the 5,000.  
    Lastly, the negatives don’t go away because we are advancing in the positives.  Some things are always wrong, no matter how much we’re progressing in our relationship with God.  It’s not like we can say that we’ve progressed so far in kindness, that we can be as divisive as possible on occasion.  Or that we so love God that a few times of adultery won’t make a difference.  We need both no and yes in order to live holy lives.  
    Consider today where you are at in your relationship with God.  Do you still need to focus on what not to do?  Or can you focus on what to do and doing that better each day?  That probably depends on the area of your life, as you will have some where you simply focus on what not do, while in other areas you can grow more deeply in what to do.  And don’t try to do it by yourself.  All of this is made possibly only by the grace of the Holy Spirit, who with the Father and the Son live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Like Fr. Mulcahy

 Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  One of my favorite TV characters, for reasons you might guess, is Fr. Francis Mulcahy from the TV show “M*A*S*H.”  As the seasons progress, they really develop his character into a leading role in the show.  He often is known for his dry humor and his witty one-liners.  But one of my favorite episodes with Fr. Mulcahy is when a soldier who is AWOL (absent without leave) decides to claim sanctuary in the mess tent, which is serving as the chapel.  Though other, higher-ranking officers, the Judge Advocate General corps (think military lawyers), and even the head chaplain of the Army all say that the protection of sanctuary does not apply, Fr. Mulcahy is very serious about providing the soldier with the protection that is needed.  However, when the soldier, who is pressed in by the MPs (military police), grabs a rifle, Fr. Mulcahy is just as serious about rebuking the soldier for claiming sanctuary on the one hand, but then taking up arms in the same “house of God” on the other hand when things don’t seem to be going his way.  He bats away the rifle, almost on instinct, while scolding the soldier.  And then, when the soldier is visibly upset and penitent, Fr. Mulcahy is just as serious about comforting the soldier and getting him the help he needs.
    As Catholics, we could all learn a thing or two from Fr. Mulcahy; not just me as a priest and a chaplain for the State Police.  And I want to focus on his seriousness, because there are two things we should be very serious about: our sins and their effects on the one hand, and God’s mercy on the other.  
    St. Paul reminds us today that there are certain actions which are inconsistent with going to heaven: “immorality, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, hatreds, rivalry, jealousy, outbursts of fury, acts of selfishness, dissensions, factions, occasions of envy, drinking bouts, orgies, and the like.”  Some of the English words don’t need an explanation.  But for a word like immorality, in Greek porneia, we could say any type of sexual activity outside of marriage (and this Greek word is the word from which we get the word pornography); impurity is also broad and has a sense of any physical act of lust; licentiousness has the meaning of an unbridled lust or excess of sexuality (no restrictions on sexual activity); the words that underline idolatry (false worship) and sorcery are fairly clear.  
    The word hatred is connected to the Greek word for enemy.  Rivalry can also mean strife or fighting.  Jealousy is pretty obvious, but fury could also be translated as rage or intense anger.  Acts of selfishness can also mean selfish ambition or selfish rivalry, and dissensions is about dividing.  Factions is connected to the word for heresies, which means a separate (and false) teaching.  The definitions for the rest seem fairly obvious.  
    In any case, St. Paul is clear that these types of behavior are not only opposed to the Holy Spirit, but “those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.”  That’s very serious!  And so should we take them: seriously; we might even say “gravely.”  Some on that list are not surprising as keeping one out of heaven: sexual immorality and the like, outbursts of fury, drinking bouts, etc.  But others, perhaps like jealousy, envy, and even dissensions might not seem as serious.  And yet, if we take the Word of God as given to us by St. Paul seriously, then even those things can keep one from heaven.  
    And yet, we also have to be as serious about the mercy of God, not undermining the evil that can keep us out of heaven, but also not giving more power to sin than to God’s grace.  The Galatians included probably many people who, as pagans, had lived in such a way as St. Paul describes as contrary to the Spirit and part of the works of the flesh.  But they had turned away from such things, at least for a while.  The fact that St. Paul is writing to remind them about not living according to the flesh leads one to believe that at least some had fallen back into old habits, and they needed a little encouragement and admonition about living according to the Spirit.  God’s mercy is more powerful than our sins, and can restore us to a right relationship with Him, no matter what we have done.  
    But, we want to respond to the grace of God, which is the source of any good we do, and not try to serve two masters.  Our Lord talks about the choice between God and mammon, which means money or wealth.  But the choice of which master we serve can also go for any of the sins which St. Paul lists out.  If the master we serve is not God, then it makes sense why we would not go to heaven, because we would not want to go there.  If we prefer to indulge our illicit sexual appetites, or our passions, or even our own self-importance or the superiority of our intellectual positions, then we have made no room for God.  We should take seriously whom we wish to serve, because the small choices we make daily can determine our eternity.
    At the same time, we should take seriously God’s mercy, and his patience with us if we are trying to repent.  In times such as these, while it doesn’t excuse sexual immorality of any kind, sex is ubiquitous and it is very easy to get snared, sometimes even unwittingly at a young age.  Are we turning to the mercy of God, not presuming on it, but truly seeking to do better, doing our best to cooperate with God’s grace, and returning, sometimes even time-after-time, to the confessional?  Going to confession is our part in asking the Lord to re-establish Himself as the Master of our life.  That is why exorcists say that the best way to avoid demonic oppression or possession is to make regular confessions.  And we have a good amount of times here and at St. Pius X where the Sacrament of Penance is available.  As those times consistently fill-up, I can look to add other times.  
    But do not despair of God’s mercy, or take it lightly.  God desires our salvation, and, as as Jesus told us, He will seek us out like a lost lamb or a lost coin.  “God already proved His love for us in that, while we were still sinners, he died for us,” St. Paul writes.  There is no place God will not go to rescue us from our sinfulness.  So take courage and ask for God’s mercy.  Ask for God’s help to put to death the works of the flesh (which is impossible to do by ourselves) and to live, guided by the Holy Spirit.  When we call upon God in true sorrow for our sins, moved by God’s grace, we can have confidence that God will help us to live by the Spirit, who with the Father and the Son is God, for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Oregon Trail, Age of Empires, and Clash of Clans

Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

When I was in middle school, probably my favorite computer game was Oregon Trail.  We didn’t have the greatest graphics then, everything was still green and black, so it wasn’t too life-like, but it was fun trying to take settlers from St. Louis to Oregon, without them dying from dysentery or starving to death because there was no food to hunt.  When I was in college, graphics had improved a lot, and my new favorite game was Age of Empires, where you got to build civilizations and defend from bands of foreign armies.  There were many a Friday night where I was playing with or against fellow seminarians on our dorm network.  Now that I’m an adult, I’ve moved on to much more sophisticated things, like Clash of Clans.  In this game, you build a city with walls and attack and defend from other players.  You can also hold mock wars with other groups, and win gold, elixir, and dark elixir.

The common thread in all of these games is the ability to control persons or civilizations.  Perhaps I have a bit of a control-complex, but it’s fun to help civilizations grow and use them to attack other groups.  There’s something fun about being in control.

But Jesus reminds us today that control in life is limited to very few things.  In most aspects of our life, we don’t have any control.  But Jesus tells us not to worry or be anxious.  If you’re like me, that’s easier said than done.  In a more and more chaotic world, the temptation is to try to gain more and more control over our circumstances in life.  

Now certainly, Jesus is not telling us that we should ignore our responsibilities in life and just let things go in favor of seeing how God works.  Jesus is not telling us that we no longer need to go to work, no longer need to pay our bills, no longer need to do our homework, etc.  Those are our responsibilities as part of being a parent or student.  

But think about all the other things we worry about over which we have no control whatsoever.  Probably one of the biggest is what people think of us.  How much time do we spend wondering what someone would think if we do a certain good or neutral action?  We can spend so much time trying to imagine what other people are going to say or think about us that we miss the opportunity to do the good that God wants us to do.

Another area that people commonly worry about is the state of the world.  There are very few things that we are going to do that will have a direct impact on our nations or other nations.  But, if we stop worrying about it and “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness” in our lives, then we will be doing what we can, however indirectly, to bring peace and truth and justice to the world.  We can’t control the actions of our nation or other nations, and so should not worry about it.  That’s not to say we shouldn’t do anything about it.  But we shouldn’t be anxious about things over which we cannot control.  We can control our own actions, how we treat others, and so should do our best to live a peaceful and holy life.

Another area of worry is children who do not practice their faith.  Even if they’re not our kids, so many of us at least know someone who has stopped practicing their Catholic faith, and people can spend no small amount of time wondering about where they went wrong, what more they could have done, etc.  We shouldn’t worry about that.  Again, this doesn’t mean we should do nothing.  What we can do is first and foremost, pray for that person.  Spend a good deal of time praying for that person.  Maybe even offer your Lenten penances for that person.  And then, as you feel moved by the Holy Spirit, invite them to come to confession with you, and then Mass.  If they decline, let them know the offer is always there.  

Trust in God is also important in the other areas of our life: marriage, how many kids to have, whether or not to send those kids to a Catholic school.  Certainly, in all those decisions, we should use the gift of reason that God gave us, as well as the teachings of the Church.  But all those decisions also rely on trust in God: trust that we will choose the right person to marry, the person with whom we want to be a saint; trust that, following the teachings of the Church and using Natural Family Planning, that if God surprises us with another child, we will have the ability to love and care for that child; trust that, even if we have to give up a few of our creature comforts, God will help us provide a quality, Catholic education to our children.  

Trust can be hard.  It’s easier to try to control things.  But if we really think about, there is very little that we actually control.  If we rely on the one who actually does have control, then we can find greater happiness from not worrying and wasting energy about things beyond us.  Simply follow the advice of Jesus: “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness.”

A Master better than Lord & Lady Grantham

Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

           

This past Monday was a sad day for me.  I was watching on DVR the latest episode of one of my favorite shows, “Downton Abbey.”  As I was watching it I was engrossed in the story.  But eventually I thought, ‘This episode seems longer.’  And as I looked at my watch, I noticed that the episode was already past its usual 57-minute airtime.  But then I found out why it was a longer episode: it was the season finale!  My joy quickly turned to sorrow as I realized I wouldn’t be able to watch new episodes for many months.

            I don’t know why I like Downton.  Maybe it’s the general American fascination with British royalty and nobility.  Maybe it’s just the charm of a British accent.  But I do enjoy it!  And while Downton surely paints a rather rosy picture of life in the early twentieth century, I can’t help but think that I would have been happy even just being a footman in a noble’s house, with all the order, the discipline, and the pomp and circumstance (probably not a surprise to anyone here).

            St. Paul says in our second reading that, “one should regard us…as servants of Christ.”  Now, St. Paul is not saying that we have to set out the silverware just right, or wear the right livery for a British noble family.  But he uses this term servant because, whether in first century Palestine or in the twentieth century England, the servant was always intent on fulfilling the master’s will and being about the master’s business.  Psalm 123 reveals what our approach is to be with Jesus: “Yes, like the eyes of servants/ on the hand of their masters, / Like the eyes of a maid/ on the hand of her mistress, / So our eyes are on the Lord our God, / till we are shown favor.” 

            That is the admonition that Jesus gives us in today’s Gospel: “‘seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things [food, drink, clothing] will be given you beside.’”  Christ tells us to work intently on finding the Kingdom of God and then living out the life of the Kingdom, which he had just outlined in chapter 5 of Matthew’s Gospel through the Sermon on the Mount.  Seeking the Kingdom of God means living the beatitudes, and living according to the new law of grace.  The new law of grace is to be salt and light, not to be angry, not to lust in our hearts, not to divorce and remarry (unless the marriage is unlawful), not to swear, not to seek vengeance, and to love our enemies.  As Jesus says, the new law of grace means being perfect “‘just as your heavenly Father is perfect.’”

            And when we are seeking to live that way, we know that our heavenly Father will take care of us.  Even if a mother could forget her child, God promises through the prophet Isaiah in our first reading, God will never forget us.  God will take care of His servants, even better than Lord and Lady Grantham at Downton Abbey. 

            Of course, the gut check for us is whether we are like a servant, intent on keeping our eyes on the Master and doing His will.  The Prayer over the Offerings today speaks of how the bread and wine are “signs of our desire to serve you with devotion.”  Are they really signs of our intention to serve Jesus?  Where do we spend our time?  How do we spend our time?  What consumes us?  If it’s not seeking the Kingdom of God in all we do, and that certainly includes our daily life, or work, or relaxation, our study, then we are not truly living like a servant.  And then we start to worry and become anxious, because if we have to be in charge of taking care of ourselves, there’s a lot to worry about.  When we have to be the Master, we worry a lot, because we try to go beyond our station.  We are not the Master, and when the servants try to be the Master, it always gets botched in some way.  But, when we are the servants, and content with being the servants, there is a peace and relaxation knowing and trusting that the Master will take care of us.

But as servants of Christ, it’s not just about doing the will of the Master (though that is very important).  It’s also about being with the Master.  As Psalm 62, our responsorial psalm, says, “Only in God be at rest, my soul.”  As servants of the Master who are also sons and daughters in the Son of God, we should also be intent on simply being with the Master, and letting our hearts relax in His presence.  There’s nothing wrong with being like Martha, serving the Lord and doing things for Him.  But Mary has the better part.  Just being with the Lord is also a treasure, and one that we should seek.  So many of us are busy with doing things for the Lord.  How much time do we take just to be with the Lord?

As much as I love “Downton Abbey,” it’s not real.  I’m sure the idyllic picture it paints does not accurately reflect the entire truth in what it was to be a servant in a noble house in the early twentieth century.  But the Kingdom of God is real.  And God’s care for us is real.  And any idyllic picture that we can paint is only a shadow of the peace and joy that awaits those who choose to be servants of our Divine Master.

Jumping In

Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Because February, while technically the shortest month of the year, is somehow, ironically, the longest month of the year, and because we seem to be getting pounded with snow again and again, it’s nice to remember what summer’s like, to give us hope that someday, hopefully soon, the snow will melt, warmer, sunnier days will return, and we’ll be able go outside and participate in our favorite summer activities.

One of those activities that can be a lot of fun is swimming, either at a lake, or at a pool.  At a pool, its interesting to see a young boy or young girl, usually with little floaties around their arms to help them float, waiting to jump in while mom or dad is ready to catch them.  You can almost see the thought process as the scenario unfolds: are these small orange things really going to keep me from drowning?  Is dad or mom going to catch me?  If they do catch me, can I be sure that they’re not going to let go?  But then how rewarding is it when they take the leap, splash into the water into mom or dad’s arms, and realize that jumping in can be great fun, and they don’t have to be afraid. 

In many ways, the leap of faith that Jesus asks us to take in today’s Gospel is even greater than that leap of faith a child takes when it decides to jump into its parent’s arms in the pool.  Jesus tells us, “do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear.”  ‘Sure Jesus,’ we might say to ourselves, ‘easy enough for you to say.  But you’re not living in this economy.  You don’t have to put food on the table for a spouse and kids.’  And yet, to many of the people Jesus was talking to, their financial lives were much more fragile than ours.  There was no St. Vincent de Paul society to help them out, no Meals on Wheels, no welfare.  In Jesus’ time, if you were somehow unable to work, much of which was simply to get by, then you had your family to back you up.  If you had no family, then you were really out of luck.  No one had your back.

And to those people Jesus says, “Don’ worry about food, drink, clothing, or life.”  The leap of faith that that decision takes is enormous, because we can be afraid.  We can be like scared, little children, sitting alongside the pool, wondering if our mom or dad is going to catch us.  But, of course, God the Father, the source of all fatherhood and motherhood, is never going to let us drown.  He is always there to catch us.  If He weren’t, we would cease to exist.  If His love were not sustaining us each and every millisecond of our lives, there would be no us.  And, besides, as our first reading tells us, even if our mothers forsook us, and what a horrific thing that would be, the Lord would never forsake us.  Even if our earthly parents let us go underneath the waves, even then the Lord would never forsake or forget us.  He loves you, an individual, with all of who He is.

And what is the proof of that love?  Jesus tells us that, as far as food goes, God makes sure that the birds of the air have food each day.  They don’t have freezers or microwaves; they don’t have cupboards where they can store canned goods.  And yet, God provides for them anyways.  And are we not more important than sparrows?  Certainly.  Jesus also uses the example of the flowers of the field.  They don’t worry if Abercrombie is in this year, or if this pant/shirt combo from Hollister is sheik.  And yet, even Solomon, the richest man in all Israel could not make clothes as beautiful as those flowers are.  And if the flowers, which are here today and withered tomorrow are clothed so, how much more will God make sure that we have proper clothing; maybe not Abercrombie or Hollister, but clothes to keep us warm in these winter months, clothes to help us do our jobs.

Does this mean that we can just put everything on Visa because it’s everywhere we want to be?  Does this mean that for everything else we use MasterCard?  Does this mean that we don’t leave home without our American Express?  No, buying on credit is not the answer.  God will not pay off our credit cards.  But if we, the Body of Christ, take Jesus’ teachings to heart, then no one will worry about food, clothing, or the basic necessities.  If we “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,” then we will make sure that, after we have provided for our families with the capital that comes from our work, no matter how exalted or base it may be, that what we have left will go to support St. Vincent de Paul, food banks, and other charitable organizations that provide for people in their need.  If we are first seeking the kingdom, then we are not just in it for ourselves.  The way that we treat others, the way that we love others, becomes paramount. 

But that only happens if God is our Master.  We cannot serve two masters.  You will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other.  Who is our master?  Is it God or MasterCard?  Is it God or our jobs?  Is it God or our money?  The answer to that question can be discerned by evaluating what we love most.  What comes first in our lives?

Today we are standing at the edge of the pool, and God our Father is standing in the water.  Do we stay on the concrete, on the security we think we have built with our hands?  Or do we take God at His word and jump in, trusting that our Father will not let us drown and that, in fact, the excitement at jumping in far outweighs the false security we think we have on the concrete edge?  The Father is waiting.  Jump into His arms.