Why Are We Running?

Easter Sunday

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  Forrest Gump, after returning home from the Vietnam War, and after he sold his shrimping company, and after he had tried to figure out what to do with his life, got off his porch and, as he said, “That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run.  So, I ran to the end of the road, and when I got there, I thought maybe I’d run to the end of town.”  He ends up running through his county, through Alabama, and across the United States.  In reflecting on his super marathon, Forrest says, “For no particular reason, I just kept on going.”
    While I have run the CRIM once, and sometimes run as part of my cardio workouts, I’m more in the camp of those who run solely because they’re being chased or chasing after someone.  And as for being chased, as long as you’re not the slowest, generally you’re ok.  
    But John’s account of the first Easter Sunday talks about Sts. Peter and John running to the tomb.  They run there to see if what St. Mary Magdalene said was true: that someone had taken the Lord.  John, who wrote the Gospel, adds what I like to think was a little fun jab at Peter: “They both ran, but the other disciple [that is, John] ran faster than Peter and arrived at the tomb first.”  Peter would have been in trouble if they were running from a bear.
    But they both ran with a purpose: to see the empty tomb.  They saw the burial cloths, and the cloth that had covered the head in a separate area.  They believed Mary Magdalene, that someone had taken the body somewhere else, as St. John makes clear, “they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead.”  It would not be until the Risen Lord appeared in the Upper Room that evening that they would know that He had risen from the dead.  
    Do we, like Peter and John, run towards the resurrection?  Or do we, like Forrest Gump, run for no particular reason?  As followers of Christ, we should run towards a goal, not aimlessly.  Our life should be a run towards the risen Christ in heaven.  If we’re just running, with no goal in mind, we never know where we might end up, and it might not be in heaven.  
    As we go through each day and the different activities of life, we can treat the parts of the day like smaller races: waking up and getting myself and/or the kids ready–100 meter dash; working in or out of the home–3200 meter run; making dinner and cleaning up the house–400 meter dash.  And as we begin each race, we should do so with a prayer.  Maybe it’s a simple prayer as you wake up, like a morning offering, of even the short pious phrase, “My Mother, My Confidence!”, entrusting our day to the intercession of the Blessed Mother.  Maybe it’s the sign of the cross as you enter your car to drive to work, or as you begin a load of laundry at home.  Maybe it’s the Angelus on your lunch break.  Maybe it’s Grace Before and/or After Meals.  Maybe it’s a pray of thanksgiving as you put your kids to bed or go to bed yourself.  But praying throughout the day makes sure that we’re running towards a goal, and not just running like a chicken with its head cut off.  
    If we don’t focus our energy, we run towards other goals than heaven–earthly prosperity, power, fame–which do not endure and will not save us.  Or, it’s more like running on a treadmill, which expends the same amount of energy, but without actually going anywhere.  To share in Christ’s Resurrection, we have to want to get there.  Simply making our legs go back and forth won’t necessarily get us closer to the new life that Christ wants for us and that fulfills our human nature.  How sad would it be to find out, at the end of our life, that we ran the wrong way, or even didn’t run any distance, but only ran in place.  

The empty tomb in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre

    Today, let us join Sts. Peter and John, running toward an empty tomb, because Christ has risen from the dead.  Let us run the race that God has put before us, not aimlessly, but with our eyes fixed on our goal: heaven.  Each day we can run the small and long races, which hopefully push us closer to eternal life.  We use prayer to make sure we’re on the right track, the path that leads to heaven.  
    Forrest Gump later in the movie says, “I had run for three years, two months, fourteen days and sixteen hours….I’m pretty tired.  Think I’ll go home now.”  He had run for years, but without a purpose, without reaching a goal.  May our race of life have purpose, like Peter and John, and, spurred on by the grace and mercy of God, lead us to heaven.  [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]

Making Room for God

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    One of the challenges, primarily for kids for also for adults, is what to get and what to leave at Thanksgiving dinner.  There are so many good foods that you start putting a healthy amount of the foods you like on your plate, but then you realize your plate is full and you’re only halfway through all the food that’s available.  And that’s just for the main meal; I’m not even considering dessert!
    The Pharisee in the parable that Jesus told today was full, but not with turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy.  He was full of himself.  As he prays, he didn’t even really engage in a conversation with God.  It was more of a monologue about how great he was, especially in comparison with the sinful tax collector standing at the back of the temple.  While seemingly making time for God by going to the temple to pray, the Pharisee didn’t really make room for God, and perhaps only went to the temple because it was expected of him and he had to keep up appearances.
    As followers of Christ, we have recognized a need for God, but do we actually make room for Him?  In our own lives that might start just with making time for God.  That might seem strange to say for people who set aside time on a Sunday morning to go to Mass.  But beyond just this time at Mass, do we make time for God in our life?  
    How easy it can be to go throughout a day and not make time to for prayer.  Maybe it’s work, or getting kids ready for school or teaching them in the home and trying to keep them from harming themselves or other siblings, and then making some sort of breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and just wanting to relax after a long day.  Prayer can be hard for families, and often does not happen, either as much or at all, unless it is scheduled.  Of course, prayer for the laity will look differently than prayer for priests, because they are different vocations.  You may not have 40 uninterrupted minutes for anything.  But do you do your best to make time for God, and not simply let God get the leftovers of your time and attention?  Maybe it’s only a few short minutes after you get up but before the kids have stirred from their beds.  Maybe it’s at the beginning of your lunch hour when you say the Angelus at noon.  Maybe it’s before each meal.  Maybe it’s 15 minutes as a couple after the kids are in bed, rather than just watching mindless tv.  
    Making room for God also acknowledges a truth that can easily escape our mind: we need God.  More than food; more than water; even more than oxygen, we need God.  We depend on God for every good thing.  And yet, how often do we go through a day not even calling God to mind.  The reason why God especially hears the widow and orphan, as we heard from the Book of Sirach this morning, is because they know they need Him.  Widows and orphans, unless they had family, relied on the generosity of strangers.  And I’m not sure that people exhibited more generosity in Biblical times than they do now.  When you struggle to find food, clothing, and shelter, suddenly what meme is breaking the Internet, or which celebrity is divorcing, or even whether or not the Lions are going to win suddenly takes a back seat.  It becomes much more natural to cry out to someone who can help, and God especially hears those prayers, out of His love for His children.  

    The tax collector from the Gospel also knew his need for God, though not for the necessities of life.  He acknowledged what was true for both him and the Pharisee, that he was a sinner.  He knew he couldn’t fix or absolve himself for the ways he had disobeyed God.  So he recognized his need for God’s mercy and asked for it.  And God, Jesus tells us, answered that prayer.  It can be easy to fill up our lives with fleeting things so that we pretend that we’re self-sufficient, or so that we pretend our sins don’t matter, and we miss out on receiving the good things God wants to give us, including His mercy, because we’re so full of ourselves.
    So as you consider each day as an empty thanksgiving plate, how much room are you leaving for God?  Or are you filling it up with so many other things that when you come to God, you’re like, “I’ll get that when I come back for seconds”?  God will not force Himself upon us.  We need Him, but if we don’t acknowledge that need, He will not impress Himself upon us, until the end of our life when we will be judged on how we made time for God.  Start with portioning out a healthy serving of God each day, rather than hoping you have room for Him at the end of the meal.  If you make time for God, not only will you receive the choicest foods and wines, but you will not hunger or thirst what what truly satisfies your heart!

Tempting

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost-Commemoration of St. Lawrence

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

Church of Dominus Flevit, where Christ wept over Jerusalem

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

Job, Not Karen

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    There is a stereotype of a person who, when not getting the answer he or she wants, especially at a business, starts arguing to get his or her way, especially asking to see the manager.  Unfortunately for those with this name, this type of person has been called a Karen.  A Karen is going to get her way, no matter how long she has to talk to the person or the manager.  And sincere apologies to all those named Karen here, who, I am sure, are wonderful people.
    Perhaps this is the image that comes to mind when we hear the second part of today’s Gospel, where Jesus talks about a friend who needs three loaves of bread, and won’t stop asking until the friend, who has already gone to bed, gives him what he wants.  In other words, if I just go all Karen on God, He will give me whatever I want.  But is that really what our Lord is saying?  Does God want us to be so convinced that we’re right that we refuse to give up any ground when it comes to something that we want?

St. John Henry Newman

    I think we need to look at the nature of prayer as we begin to answer that question.  What is prayer?  St. John Henry Newman describes prayer as “Cor ad cor loquitur–Heart speaking to heart.”  Prayer is the speaking, and listening, to the God who created us out of love, sustains us in love, and works for our salvation in love.  Prayer lifts our hearts and our minds to God, entrusting not only our needs but also our desires to Him, but then also paying attention to God’s response by making room for Him and the ways He communicates in our lives.  
    God calls us to have a childlike trust in Him.  And we know that experience of a child who does not worry that mom and dad will provide what the child needs.  But perhaps, as we hear childlike, we turn it more into childish, like the spoiled three-year-old who won’t stop crying and screaming unless it gets the candy bar it wants from the checkout lane at Meijer’s, the younger version of a Karen.
    We could be forgiven for hearing both the first reading and the middle part of the Gospel and thinking that God wants us to ask for what we want until we get it.  After all, Abraham keeps bartering with God not to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah until God seems to relent and promises not to destroy it if He can find only ten good people in the cities.  And certainly, God does want to teach us about persistence in prayer and not giving up on what we truly desire and what we think we truly need, even if we don’t get it immediately.
    But God is not a salesman nor a manager that we can wear down until He gives us what we want.  God is our loving Father.  And while sometimes He does allow us to keep asking until the time is right to give us what we desire, we also have to make sure that our desires are in accord with God’s will.  God will not give us something that we don’t need, or something that is actually harmful for my salvation, no matter how adamantly or persistently I ask for it.  And some people lose faith when they do not get what they want; they feel that God has not answered their prayers.
    We might understand this if a person asks God to win the lottery, or for some material good.  We understand how God doesn’t give us everything we want if what we want doesn’t fit a need.  But we find it more difficult to understand when our request in prayer seems more noble and asks for something we perceive as a great good.  I’m thinking in particular of the many different scenarios when a loved one is unexpectedly in a hospital: it may be a grandparent, parent, friend, or even a child.  We pray for God to heal our loved one, and we don’t understand why God wouldn’t heal that person.  Certainly a person’s life, maybe even a very good person, a faithful and devoted Catholic, has more worth than money or material possessions.  How could a loving God not answer that prayer?  And if we don’t get healing immediately, then certainly God would grant our prayer if we are persistent.  After all, He’s the one who said, “‘ask and you will receive.’”  
    But I have been in too many situations, and known too many people who have gone through situations, where the loved one dies.  And where is God in that?  Why didn’t He answer my prayers, or the prayers of tens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of people who were asking for a good thing?  
    This is where we have to return to heart speaking to heart, of the lover and the beloved in conversation.  At the end of the day, we don’t know why God answers some prayers in the way we want, sometimes of people who are not so good, and God answers the prayers in the way we don’t want, even though we strive to be good disciples and faithful Catholics.  We don’t always know the mind of God.  
    In those moments, we can certainly pour out our hearts and tell God that we are upset that our loved one didn’t make it, or that we didn’t get some spiritual good that we wanted.  There is nothing wrong with telling God that His answer, which sometimes is no, doesn’t seem to make sense with what we know of a loving Father who gives His children good gifts.  But we also follow the example of Job who, upon losing everything–property, his children, and even his own health–said, “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord.”  Job loved God, and could trust in God’s plan, even when it didn’t make sense to him.  Job hadn’t even heard the response of God yet, though he was listening, but could trust that God had a plan where that loss made sense in the divine economy.
    The message of the readings today is not to annoy God until He acquiesces to our requests.  The message of the readings is to be persistent, but to also know that God always answers our prayers, even if we don’t get what we want.  He wants us to bring our needs and our wants to Him, and He promises to do what will work out best for salvation history, even when it doesn’t make sense to us.  That only comes as an act of faith.  And the act of faith only makes sense for one who loves us deeply, and one whom we love as deeply as we can.  When it comes to prayer, God does not ask us to be a Karen, but a Job.

A Multiplication for the Gentiles

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

Mosaic of the Multiplication, Tabgha

   In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When I hear about the multiplication of the loaves, the miraculous feeding, my mind immediately turns to John, chapter 6.  And that miracle of multiplying 5 loaves and 3 fish finds itself in all four Gospel accounts: Matthew, chapter 14; Mark, chapter 6; Luke, chapter 9; and John, chapter 6.  But today’s Gospel passage is different.  Our Lord doesn’t feed 5,000; He feeds 4,000 people.  And whereas the larger miracle has twelve baskets of leftovers remaining, today’s miracle has seven baskets left over.  Liberal scripture scholars would first of all dismiss the miracle as an example of Christ calling people to share, and then might simply say that Mark (and Matthew, who also includes this second multiplication story) wanted to demonstrate again how important it is to share.
    But, for us who believe in miracles, who take the text as it is written, not according to our own preconceived notions, is there more?  Why would Sts. Mark and Matthew include two stories about miraculously multiplying food, with different details for each miracle?
    One scholar notes that the location has everything to do with the different miracles and the different amount of leftovers.  In the multiplication story for the 5,000, our Lord performs the miracle in Jewish territory.  In the multiplication of the 4,000, our Lord performs the miracle in Gentile, non-Jewish territory.  With the 5,000, there are twelve wicker baskets leftover, which, when connected to Judaism, reminds one of the twelve tribes of Israel.  With the 4,000, there are seven baskets leftover, which, after some study, connects to the seven Canaanite, or Gentile, kingdoms.  So, as the analysis goes, St. Mark recorded both miracles to show that Christ’s Church was meant to include both Jew and Gentile, as shown by the location of the miracle and the amount of bread left over.
    Ok.  So a pretty neat connection with how Christ did two miracles to demonstrate that His Church was meant to include all peoples, Jews and Gentiles.  It wasn’t just filler that Mark and Matthew added to take up more space.  But how does that affect me?  How is that supposed to change my life?
    I think it’s a good opportunity to think about how we evangelize.  Or maybe better put: with whom do we share the message of salvation: Jews (representing my fellow Catholics) or Gentiles (representing non-Catholics)?  
    Let’s be honest, it’s easier to talk with fellow Catholics (generally speaking) about the faith because we start from the same basic starting point.  We share cultural phrases and celebrations.  We’re generally on the same page, even if there are some teachings that tend to divide some Catholics from other Catholics.  So it can feel comfortable just to stay in the Catholic lane and determine that God has called me to strengthen the faith of fellow Catholics, and maybe even venture out to those who have stopped practicing their faith, what we traditionally called the lapsed.
    And we might even find some Scriptural basis for this, as we read in Galatians, chapter 2, “the one who worked in Peter for an apostolate to the circumcised worked also in me for the Gentiles.”  So we might feel like we don’t really need to go to non-Catholics for evangelization.  That’s for other people.  
    But while it may seem easier, or feel more comfortable, if Christ went both to Jews and Gentiles, then that is our mission, as well.  And even St. Peter went to Gentiles, as he went to the house of Cornelius, a Roman centurion, and baptized his entire household after he saw that they had accepted the faith and saw the work of the Holy Spirit among them.  And St. Paul, though the Apostle to the Gentiles, would most often start at the local synagogue as he proclaimed Jesus as the Christ.  Both…and, not either…or.
    And the harvest is abundant.  There are many people in our daily lives who are not Catholic and have had no connection to the Catholic Church.  And if we believe that the Catholic Church reveals the fullness of truth that God has revealed, the truth we need for salvation, then how can we not share the Gospel with others?  I’m not talking about being the annoying person who goes up to everybody all the time and says, “Have you thought about being Catholic?”  Or, even worse, “Can I tell you how not to go to Hell?”  Those approaches tend to turn people away.  
    But, if we’re living our life as faithful Catholics, and then we take opportunities when the situation arises to talk about Christmas Mass, or why we have a black cross on our forehead, or why we don’t eat meat on Fridays, that can help people start looking into the Catholic Church.  Or sometimes it just means praying with someone who is going through a difficult time, and showing them that we care by our attention and by praying with them.  While some may not be open to hearing the teachings of the faith, very few are not open to people praying with them, especially if they or their loved ones are struggling.
    Christ had two miracles of multiplication in order to show that He intended the Gospel for the Jews and for the Gentiles.  Each day we have opportunities to interact with fallen-away or lukewarm Catholics and non-Catholics.  Do we take the opportunity to share the Gospel with them?  Are we committed to sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ?  Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen.

On Pilgrimage with our Lord

First Sunday of Lent

Mount of Temptations

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  One of my hopes during this Jubilee Year was to lead a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.  There is nothing quite like traveling to the land which our Lord made holy through the Incarnation and Paschal Mystery.  I have been there three times before, but the sites help one go even more deeply into the Gospels by seeing the places where our salvation happened.  As we hear this Gospel for the first Sunday of Lent, I can see in my mind’s eye the Mount of Temptation, which stands near Jericho, the traditional place in the desert where Satan tempted our Lord.  Or, as we get closer to Holy Week, to walk the Way of the Cross through the streets of Jerusalem, or stand at Calvary in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and especially to see the empty tomb in that same church.  
    But most people, whether in the past or in the present, could or cannot physically travel to the Holy Land.  In the past it was expensive and dangerous.  Today the expense is more the issue than anything (the holy sites are generally very safe, even right now with the animosity and fighting between Israel and Hamas).  But St. Francis of Assisi developed the Stations of the Cross, originally just for Franciscan churches, to help people draw closer to the saving events of our Lord’s life from a local church.  And even beyond the Stations of the Cross, we are invited to, even if only spiritually, travel with our Lord in these forty days of Lent.
    During Lent we are meant to be on our own pilgrimage with the Lord for forty days.  We spend forty days in the desert, evoking the forty years the Israelites wandered in the desert between their exodus from slavery in Egypt to their entrance into the Promised Land, as well as the forty days our Lord spent in the desert after His baptism, leading up to His temptation by Satan.
    The desert of Lent is meant to test us, to see of what we are made, and to discover the areas in which we still need to grow.  If we think back to the Chosen People wandering in the desert, at first they were ecstatic about their freedom.  The Egyptians had given their riches to the Israelites, so the liberated slaves had precious materials for their new home to which they traveled.  But fairly early on, they started to regret leaving Egypt, even though they were slaves there, and wanted to go back because, even with as bad as it was, they were familiar and comfortable with the bad, which seemed better than the unfamiliarity with a future, unknown, good.  They cried to God for water and food, and even created a false god after Moses had gone up to Mount Sinai.  The Promised Land was their home, a land God had promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but a land they had left some four hundred years earlier, a land they had forgotten.  While the journey to Canaan was not an exceptionally long distance, because of their lack of faith, just as they were at the door of the Promised Land, they had to wander in the desert even longer than originally intended.
    Instead of lacking faith, our Lord’s forty days in the desert demonstrates what Lent is supposed to be: still difficult, still a test, but a test that we can pass because He did.  Our Lord hungered; our Lord thirsted.  But He did not doubt God’s care for Him, and He did not give in to the temptations of the devil.
    If we are honest, we are more like the Israelites than like our Lord.  Our baptism sets us free from Satan and sin, and God gives us the treasure of His grace, His life, to help us on our way home to heaven, our true Promised Land.  But along the way we doubt God.  We do not trust Him to provide all that we need.  We create false gods whom we feel will lead us better.  We forget that we are made for heaven and union with God, and in our selective amnesia, we make our path to God even longer and more difficult than it needs to be.
    So this Lent, our goal as we travel on pilgrimage with Christ is to be more like Him, and less like the Israelites.  As we fast and abstain, as our stomachs growl, we should remember that we do not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.  As we pray, we do so not to put God to the test, but to bring the desires of our heart to God so that they can be purified and answered according to His will, not to our own insecurities and drive to be in charge.  As we give alms, we recognize that true power does not come from money and possessions, the false gods that we create, but from worshipping God alone and allowing Him to exult us.  
    While the desert is difficult, and tests us to trust more in God and less in ourselves, the desert is not forever.  God does not abandon us to wander around for eternity.  Christ has opened heaven by His Death and Resurrection, and wants us to end up there if we will follow His path through the desert.  The pilgrimage to heaven may be difficult at times, and we may want to turn back to what comforts we think that slavery to sin gives us, or look to other gods of our own making that we think we can control.  But if we follow Christ this Lent, and truly seek to allow Him to put to death in us anything which is not of Him, we will find the Promised Land where angels will minister to us as we worship in perfect happiness our true God: [Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen]

Audacity and Deference

Third Sunday after Epiphany
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  For my first assignment as a priest, Bishop Boyea sent me to St. Thomas Aquinas parish in East Lansing.  And people still remembered the second pastor of that parish, named Msgr. Jerome MacEachin, but more lovingly referred to as Fr. Mac, though he had died in 1987.  His favorite hymn, a hymn also near and dear to my heart, was “O Lord, I Am Not Worthy,” whose first verse comes primarily from the second half of the Gospel passage we heard today.

    We hear this familiar passage about the centurion asking our Lord to heal His slave, but then objecting to our Lord visiting his house, and having faith that the Savior could heal even from afar.  And as I reflected on this the readings, the person of the centurion rose to the top as a model for our interaction with the Lord.
    The first thing that we note about the centurion is his audacity.  The centurion did not practice Judaism.  He did not belong to the Chosen People.  Perhaps he admired Judaism.  Perhaps he had simply heard about a wonder-worker who could heal people, so he came to ask for a favor.  But though the Messiah was not claimed as the Messiah for the Romans, the Roman soldier asked for a great miracle.  
    His audacity reminds me, and perhaps you as well, of the audacity of Esther in the Old Testament.  When praying about the situation of her people who had been condemned to ethnic cleansing by a government official looking for more power and to get rid of those who did not follow his every whim, Queen Esther basically prayed that God would remember His promise to protect His people.  She acknowledged that God could raise up His people in some other way, but asked God that she could help save her people from utter destruction.
    Are we as audacious as they?  We have more claim to God’s attention than a Roman centurion, because we are His adopted sons and daughters in Christ.  We even have more claim to God’s attention than Esther, because though she was a part of God’s Chosen People, the Jews, we are part of His Son, our Lord, through baptism.  And so, as beloved children of the Father, we can go to Him with a certain confidence that what we ask the Father for in the name of Christ will be granted us, as long as it is part of His will, and helps us grow in holiness.  The Redeemer promised that whatever we asked in His Name, the Father would give us.  When we pray, do we have that confidence?  Or is our approach,  “Lord, if it’s not too much trouble, and I know I don’t have any room to ask, but if you wouldn’t mind listening to the prayers of little, old me…”?  
    On the other hand, we also see the centurion display great humility and deference.  He doesn’t consider Himself worthy of a personal visit by the Lord.  A Roman soldier could command almost anything, and expect to be followed.  In fact, our Lord preached in His Sermon on the Mount, “‘If anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles.’”  This references the times that a soldier could demand that a Jew carry his gear for one mile, even if it was inconvenient for the Jew.  So the Roman soldier could have simply commanded our Lord to come to his house, and our Lord would have been expected to obey.  Instead, the Roman doesn’t even feel worthy to have the Savior go anywhere with him, so he demurs the visit.  
    We should also show this attitude in our prayer.  The Lord owes us nothing.  He has already given us more than we could dream in terms of salvation.  If He gave us nothing else than the opportunity to go to heaven, that would be a debt we could never repay.  Ours should also be the prayer from Luke, chapter 17: “We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.”  

St. Gemma Galgani

    St. Gemma Galgani is another great example of this humility and deference.  St. Gemma was a virgin and stigmatist from the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries.  Even though she received mystical visions from our Lord, the Blessed Mother, St. Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows, and her guardian angel, she would say, “Oh Jesus, do not let me do things that are above me.  I am good for nothing.  I do not know how to return all these great graces you have given me.”  She had been given so much, and yet did not expect anything from God.  
    This may seem like an odd balance to keep in prayer, but both are important.  We should approach the Father with confidence as His beloved children in Christ, but also recognize that God owes us nothing.  We know that whatever we ask the Father in the name of Christ will be given us, as long as it serves God’s plan and helps us grow in holiness.  We tend to favor one or the other.  Some may find it easier to approach the Father will confidence.  Some may find it easier to be deferential and not ask for anything because we cannot merit anything on our own.  In the end, that first verse of the hymn “O Lord, I Am Not Worthy” displays both attitudes of the centurion, audacity and humility, attitudes which are also important in our life: “O Lord, I am not worthy / That thou should’st come to me. / But speak the words of comfort, / My spirit healed shall be.”  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Chosen

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

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

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

Msgr. Romano Guardini

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

Not Why, but What

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

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

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 Prayers of the Righteous

Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  General George Patton found himself in Lorraine, France, in December, 1944.  The weather was rotten.  He wrote to his wife, Beatrice: “There is about four inches of liquid mud over everything and it rains all the time, but not steadily.”  So Patton called up the Chaplain of the Third Army, Fr. James H. O’Neill, and had him compose a prayer for good weather, that Patton ordered be said  by every soldier in the Third Army.  By 14 December, all 250,000 copies of the prayer had been received.  on 23 December the weather broke, and Patton was again able to move his army, and ended up rescuing the 101st Airborne from their encircled siege during the Battle of the Bulge (though, they never have admitted that they needed rescuing).  Fr. James O’Neill was awarded the Bronze Star by General Patton for his prayer.
    St. Peter said that “the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears turned to their prayer.”  If you were an allied army in December 1944, you would certainly say that God heard your prayers, and, because the cause was just, the prayer was answered as General Patton wanted.  Or think about the successor of St. Peter, Pope St. Pius V, who invited Europe to pray the Rosary for the Christian Fleet at Lepanto, and, despite odds against them, they won.  Certainly, we still attribute that victory to prayer, as we celebrate on the day of victory Our Lady, Queen of Victory.  
    There’s also a football story about Lou Holtz and the coach of Boston College during one of their matches.  The coach of Boston College was speaking to Lou before the game, and said, “Well, Lou, I guess we know that, since we’re both Catholic schools, God doesn’t care who wins.”  Lou quipped back, “But His mother does.”  And how about those times when a person prayers for victory, and the team loses.  I remember being at Ford Field, at the time I was Parochial Vicar for St. Thomas Aquinas in East Lansing.  I had traveled with Lansing Catholic’s football team for a rematch against Powers Catholic of epic proportions.  There was a lot of praying on both sides that game.  I was “working the beads” every second for a Lansing Catholic victory.  But yet, at the time to my dismay, Powers Catholic won.  
    While that may seem small, think about the prayers that ascended to God for the Catholic knights fighting to hold on to Jerusalem as the Muslims fought as hard to take it back.  Was keeping Jerusalem safe for Catholics and the true faith not a righteous cause?  Can it simply be attributed to a lack of holiness on the part of those praying?
    Certainly the prayers of the righteous have more effect.  But, perhaps that is because their wills are more in-tune with God’s will, and they know how to pray that God’s will be done.  Think about the missionaries who have asked God for miracles for the conversion of others, and have received miracles.  Or when St. Dominic prayed for bread when his house of young friars had run out of bread, and God miraculously provided bread for them so that they could preach with strength and vigor.  While I was praying hard for Lansing Catholic, I certainly knew, in my mind, that God’s will might be that Lansing Catholic lose, and my first concern was that no one would get seriously injured (and those prayers were answered).  Still, I was hoping that Mary’s intercession would have an effect on us getting the win for which we looked.
    But it’s not quite as simple as: if your prayers get answered, you and/or your cause was righteous; if not, then not.  We seek always to have the mind of God, but we do not always have it.  God’s ways are mysterious because they occur according to His plan and His timing, not ours.  If a sinner calls upon God, and the answer to those prayers are in accord with God’s will, those prayers may get answered exactly as the sinner wants.  If a saint calls upon God, and the answer to those prayers are not in accord with God’s will, those prayers will be answered in a way that a bystander might think was a sign of divine displeasure.      So how should we pray?  Do we stop praying for the small things, like football victories, or nice weather for an outdoor wedding reception?  Do we only pray if we are in a state of grace?  Do we treat the answer we get as a sign of God’s pleasure of displeasure with us?  The secret lies in the prayer our Savior taught us to pray: Thy will be done.  We pray that whatever occurs be that which gives God greatest glory and gives us the greatest holiness, whether it seems like a yes or a no to us.  We pray with great fervor and persistence, as our Lord encourages us in the Gospels, but we leave it up to Him to see if the positive answer to our prayers would help advance His Kingdom more.
    And that also means that we pray for good things, not bad.  Praying in accord with God’s will cannot include harm coming to another.  There was a short-lived custom in Spain in the first millennium (short-lived because it was condemned by local councils) to pray for the death of one’s enemies.  You would pay the priest to offer a requiem Mass for someone who was alive, and hope God would get the hint.  To be clear: that’s not a good way to pray.  While there are examples from the scriptures and the lives of the saints of curses being laid upon other (think of St. Peter condemning Ananias and Sapphira for holding back from what they were supposed to give God), those are rare, and are from those who are especially in tune with the mind of God.  Unless we are at that point, our prayer should be for good, as the Lord commands us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.  
    And, in the end, prayer is an act of trust.  We entrust our petitions to a loving Father, who would never give us a stone if we asked for an egg, and know that whatever He gives us is an act of love and for our benefit, in some way.  So whether we are a chaplain of the Third Army, or a young child praying for a particular present for a birthday, may we seek to be righteous, to know God’s will, and then entrust ourselves and our prayers to the one who loves us and gives us every good gift that we need: God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Praying for Kings and Governors

Third Sunday after Easter
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  We’re knee-deep in election time again, and that means that the usual cantankerous atmosphere almost inherent in a two-party system will saturate our lives until at least November.  Among Catholics, we will hear the usual arguments about how you can’t call yourself Catholic and vote for fill-in-the-blank.  This is to dismiss those arguments; one’s voting should reflect one’s religion and how one best thinks the common good can be achieved.  I enjoy true policy debates, but we don’t really get those anymore, because good policy often cannot be contained by a pithy soundbite. 
    The Second Vatican Ecumenical Council spent a bit a time talking about how the laity should take upon themselves the transformation of the secular order by the values of the Gospel.  Participation in politics can help this transformation (or harm it, depending on how a layperson lives and for what policy he or she advocates).  And, I will admit, I used to enjoy doing a deep-dive into politics and the machinations of power and control.

Statue of St. Peter at his basilica in Rome

    But St. Peter admonishes us today to subject ourselves to the king or governors.  If you stop to think about it, this statement is a bit startling, as the leader of the general government was the Roman Emperor, who would eventually put St. Peter to death for professing the true faith.  Maybe at this point the local governors didn’t antagonize Christians as much, but it was a governor, Pontius Pilate, who put our Lord to death.  And yet, we are supposed to subject ourselves to them. 
    The early Christians, I’m sure, would have appreciated a more Christian-friendly administration.  But they certainly did not place their hope in this or that political authority.  They focused their lives on waiting for the time when they would see Christ again after He had ascended to the Father.  They didn’t ignore their earthly lives, but the took seriously the call of St. Paul to fix their minds on things above, not on things on earth.  I don’t think they suffered any illusions that the world would embrace Christ and His followers, because they had opposed them from the beginning.  They knew that this time between the Ascension, when they would not see Christ, and the return of Christ in glory, when they would see Him again, was a time of labor pains, that would include sorrow and suffering, but that Christ would grant them a joy that no one could take from them.
    This doesn’t mean that we can’t work hard to elect good people, especially good Catholics, or that you, as the lay faithful, shouldn’t participate in the electoral process.  We need people to stand up for life, from natural conception to natural death.  We need advocates for the poor and the disenfranchised.  Policies like subsidiarity, which keeps as much control as locally centralized as possible, and solidarity, which recognizes our inter-connectedness with each other, regardless of race, socio-economic status, or religion, make sense not just for Catholics, but have been time-tested as the best way to deal with legal and social issues.  But without Catholics participating in politics, these time-tested principles won’t find their way into public discussion.
    Still, as Catholics, we straddle heaven and earth.  We have a responsibility to do things as well as we can here on earth, but our eyes and especially our hopes are based in heaven.  We don’t ignore what happens in our city, State, country, and world, but we also know that the solutions to what ails our city, State, country, and world are not found in any law or political policy or personality.  The only thing that can turn things around at any level is a strong relationship with Jesus, and a firm commitment to following His will. 
    While it has looked different in the 2,000 years of its existence, we are the only “government,” if you will, that has endured.  The Roman Empire, which first persecuted us and then endorsed us, faded away, first in the West, then in the East.  The Holy Roman Empire came and went.  The monarchies of Europe and the dynasties of the Far East have changed throughout these two millennia, some more than others.  The Communists, who tried to eliminate religion, are merely a shadow of their once proud power, but even they are only around a century or less old.  No institution can outlast the Catholic Church. 
    While keeping our eyes fixed on heaven, we pray for our political leaders, even the ones with whom we don’t agree; even the ones whose policies are obnoxious to us; even the ones who cite their Catholic baptism while endorsing laws and policies that contradict the Catholic faith.  Perhaps those prayers will change their hearts.  Perhaps they will be receive a conversion, either to deepen their faith and grow in their knowledge of the truth, or to repent of their evil actions.  If we can’t even pray for them, then we need to go back to our own faith and remember that our Lord taught us to love, not only those who agree with us, like the hypocrites do, but even our enemies and those who persecute us.  In that way we begin to reflect the divine image in which we were made and love like our heavenly Father, who with the Son and the Holy Spirit is one God, for ever and ever.  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].

Prayer's Jackpot

Fifth Sunday after Easter

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I hate to admit it, but I have, from time to time, asked God to win the lottery.  It wasn’t simply to get rich for myself, but because I would give money to the Church, probably help out some friends, and maybe set up trusts to support different charities even after I’m dead and gone.  In my ask, I always reminded God of how generous I would be, especially to the Church, as a way of helping Him to know that He could trust me with the responsibility of winning tens of millions of dollars.
    As our Lord talks about prayer and having confidence in what we ask of God, we may find it strange that I haven’t won the lottery yet (or maybe you have prayed the same thing and have not won the lottery, either).  “‘If you ask the Father anything in my name, He will give it to you,’” the Savior said in today’s Gospel.  And yet I can tell you that my request to God to win MegaMillions has not been answered.  So what gives?
    Of course, deep down we know that God will only give us what is good for us.  Elsewhere, Christ says, “‘What father among you would hand his son a snake when he asks for a fish?  Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg?’”  God does not give us something that will bite us or hurt us, even if we think the thing for which we’re asking is good.
    Further, our Lord presumes that, as disciples, we are following the pattern He set for us, and being obedient to the will of the Father.  If we truly want to be obedient to God the Father, as Christ showed us, then when we ask the Father, we do so knowing that sometimes our wills are not fully conformed to His, and we might not need to receive that which He is giving us.  Sometimes that will mean we don’t receive something that we want.  Sometimes that will mean that we receive something that we don’t really want.  Remember that Christ asked in the Garden of Gethsemane that the cup of suffering might pass by Him if there was another way to save the world.  But, He ended that prayer with, “‘But not my will, but yours be done.’”  The Father had answered the prayer of our Lord over and over again, working miracles among the people.  This was made evident especially at the resurrection of Lazarus.  But God the Father’s will was also that His Son would die on the Cross to save us from sin, a will which God the Son fully embraced, with all its pain and suffering.
    Or think of St. Paul.  He talks about a thorn in his flesh, which he asked God to remove three times.  But God told the Apostle that this weakness was a way to manifest that the power came from God, not from Paul.  And that thorn was not taken away.  St. Paul had to endure it, as far as we know, for the rest of his life.  Somehow, that weakness was part of Paul’s salvation and the proclamation of the Gospel.
    Part of receiving also connects to our confidence and trust in God.  When we pray for something good, and we do our best to conform our wills to that of the Father, we still need to trust that God can do what we ask Him to do.  Christ in His hometown did not work many miracles because of their lack of faith.  Do we trust the words of our Savior that we heard today, that God will give us what we ask if we ask in the name of Christ His Son?  Or is our faith fickle that like of our Lord’s hometown neighbors?
    I can testify to times when I prayed in the name of the Lord, and what I sought in prayer was given to me.  I’m not saying this to say that I’m a saint or have special powers.  I am a sinner, trying to be holy, but not always succeeding, and any power comes from God, not from me.  I am simply an earthen vessel, trying not to get in the way of the Holy Spirit.  Sometimes these, what I consider, miracles, have been about serious issues, like a person’s health.  Other times they have been for the finding of more trivial things, like stolen golf clubs or a stolen moped.  In one case, I can remember praying for a couple I know, and my prayers seemed to have no effect.  I prayed with them again, and the effect they were seeking came to be.  Again, this is not to attribute anything to me as if I’m special; I’m not.  God wants to answer our prayers, according to His will, whether the request be for something we feel is very worthy, or even for things that don’t mean as much.

    And sometimes the answer is no.  It wouldn’t be a Fr. Anthony homily without some reference to country music, and what comes to my mind is the Garth Brooks song, “Unanswered Prayers,” in which he sings about a girl he knew in high school whom he prayed he would marry, but his prayers went unanswered.  Years later he met his wife, and they met this old flame, and he was glad that God didn’t answer those prayers.  Or Brad Paisley has a song called, “No,” where he talks about different prayers he said, but “sometimes the answer is no.”  Sometimes we think our will is aligned with God’s, but it’s not, and it’s not for our good, so God can answer our prayers with the opposite answer we desire.  It’s not that God doesn’t care or doesn’t love us, but that He answers our prayer with a response that is better for us.
    It is easy to hear how God answers prayers and think, “yeah, but that’s for other people.”  Don’t just hear, but live the word, be a doer of the word, and trust in God’s answers to your prayers.  Go to God with any need or desire you have.  Submit it to the will of God, and then trust that the answer you receive, either yes or no, will be good for your own salvation and the salvation of those you know and love.  God’s answers are a jackpot worth even more that a MegaMillions prize, because they bring us closer into the life of the Blessed Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.