When Do We Receive?

 Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  So here we are, at the last of the five precepts of the Church: You shall receive the sacrament of the Eucharist at least during the Easter season.  This precept coincides in a tangential way to our readings about the glory of the new covenant, and about our eyes being blessed to see Christ in the Eucharist, as many of the patriarchs longed to see Christ.  But, there has also been a lot of talk about receiving the Eucharist, who should, who shouldn’t, etc.  So a timely message, too.

    For most Catholics today in the US, the idea of receiving the Eucharist at once seems outdated, a holdover from previous centuries when people would attend Mass, but not receive the Eucharist.  In some countries, though (Mexico comes to mind), it is still very rare to receive the Eucharist regularly at Mass.  Why this hesitation?  Traditionally, there has been an emphasis on a worthy reception of Holy Communion, and many have not deemed themselves worthy (rightly or wrongly).  Pope St. Pius X labored tirelessly to promote frequent reception of Holy Communion (as long as one was not aware of any mortal sins).  Pope Francis has also spoken about Holy Communion not being the prize of the perfect, but the medicine for the sick.  Properly understood, both popes are right.  Receiving Holy Communion is not something that we do only after we have achieved the heights of sanctity.  It is what helps to make sanctity possible.
    At the same time, receiving Holy Communion presumes that we are in union with Christ and His Church.  The word communion means union with.  So when we receive the Eucharist, we are seeking to have union with Christ and His Mystical Body.  To maintain Eucharistic integrity, the Church does also teach that those who are in mortal sin should not receive the Eucharist, nor should those who are persistently living in a public way contrary to the teachings of Christ (the phrase is grave and manifest sin) be given Holy Communion.  

Bishop Vincke

    Some see this as treating the Eucharist as a prize.  But Bishop Vincke, formerly a priest of our diocese, put it well when he wrote in his diocesan publication:
 

Imagine a woman whose husband goes to strip clubs and repeatedly sleeps with many other women, and she knows about it.  The husband comes home and wants to have dinner with his wife, acting as though nothing was wrong.  He is indifferent to the many ways he has hurt and wounded her. […] Let’s take this a step further.  The cheating husband now wants to be intimate with his wife.  Again, he shows no remorse for the ways he has hurt her.  At the very least, shouldn’t the husband first apologize to his wife?  Shouldn’t he take ownership of what he has failed to do and tell her he is sorry?

Telling those who have “cheated” on the Lord by seriously damaging their relationship to Him that they cannot receive is not treating the Eucharist as a prize, but treating it as it is: the act of greatest intimacy between a person and Christ that can be achieved in heaven.  Intimacy is only appropriate when the love that the intimacy reflects is accurate.  So, no matter how powerful, influential, or public a person is; or how weak, unknown, and private a person is; no one who has been unfaithful to Christ in a major way should receive or be given Holy Communion, unless repentance has first taken place.  
    But it might not simply be mortal sin which keeps  a person from receiving on a particular day.  A person may find himself or herself so distracted that they have missed the readings, the homily, and the prayers, and do not feel adequately prepared to receive.  Or, a person may have arrived at Mass later than the Gospel, and so should not receive (because that person hasn’t joined in the first major part of the Mass, the Mass of the Catechumens (now often called the Liturgy of the Word).  This does not mean that parents of babies and toddlers can never receive (caring for them is part of your vocation, even if you’re not getting every word from the readings or the homilies, or kneeling during the Canon).  This also does not mean that, if you leave on time to arrive for Mass but get stuck by a train or an accident of another car, that you cannot receive.  But, all things being equal, if we are not mostly attuned to what is going on, drawing strength from the preaching of the Word and uniting ourselves interiorly to the offering of the priest, then perhaps we do not partake for that day.  Or, perhaps we forgot to fast for one hour before receiving Holy Communion, so we are not prepared in that way.  There are other reasons, other than mortal sin, why a person might not receive.  That is a decision between the person and his or her conscience (with some authority given to the priest, as well), which should not be presumed by others.
    I know that it is tough not to receive at Mass.  Others may look at us and wonder why we’re not going up in line (the Italians, I believe, have it right; they just go up whenever they’re ready, not always pew by pew).  People may presume that we have done something horribly wrong.  But frankly, that’s none of their business.  It would be better to be wrongly judged by others, than to commit a sacrilege by receiving in the state of mortal sin.  And, of course, we try to offer confession regularly enough so that you have a chance to go each week, whether at scheduled times, or, if those times don’t work, you can always schedule time with me throughout the week.  But, as you’re saying with me, Domine, non sum dignus, take a chance to decide: Am I ready to receive Holy Communion today?  Or do I need to abstain, for whatever reason?
    Because the reception of Holy Communion should also not be just a routine that we don’t consider.  This is the moment of greatest union with Christ on earth.  It should be done with the greatest of intentionality of wanting to be united with Christ and thanking Him for His sacrifice which made this union possible.  Yes, receiving the Eucharist is the greatest way to participate in Mass, and the summit of what the Mass is for.  Therefore, it’s not to be done as if we were standing in the check-out line at Meijer’s, waiting for our turn at the counter.
    The Church commands us to receive Holy Communion at least once per year, in the Easter Season.  As Pope St. Pius X and Pope Francis encouraged, if we are prepared, we should receive Holy Communion regularly, frequently even.  Receiving Christ into us strengthens us to be able to live as the disciples and saints God calls us to be, and without that great gift, holiness is so much more difficult.  Avail yourself of this treasure from heaven when you can.  Receive the Body of Jesus Christ, His perfect sacrificial offering to the Father in the power of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Fasting and Abstinence (Precept #4)

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

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

Muskrat

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

Cleaning Up and Encountering the Mercy of the Beloved (Precept #2)

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I’m sure most of us can relate to this scenario at one point in our life: mom and/or dad tell you that company is coming over, and that you need to clean up the common areas of the house (like the bathrooms, kitchen, living room, etc.).  As a kid, the thought came to my mind (and I may have vocalized this once or twice), “Why do we have to clean up?  If they’re such good friends, don’t they want to see the way we usually live, rather than faking it by pretending that our house is always this clean?”  I’m sure many of you have thought that as a child, or have heard a similar line of questioning from the kids who don’t want to clean up.

    The Precept of the Church that I’m focusing on this week is the second: “You shall confess your sins at least once a year.”  In my mind, anyway, this connects back to the Gospel we heard today, about our Lord cleansing the temple.  Christ wants the temple to be a place of prayer, though it had been made into a marketplace, or, to use His words, “‘a den of thieves.’”  But of course, beyond the obvious meaning of the building, we, too, as St. Paul says, are temples of the Holy Spirit, and Christ wants us to be people of prayer, rather than sullied by our sins.
    Confession allows us to “clean the temple,” as it were, by having Christ cleanse us of our sins and restore us to the state of our soul at holy baptism.  It invites Christ in so that all those fallen aspects of our life can be cast out. 
    But, we may say, doesn’t God already know who I am, and how I struggle?  Doesn’t He know my sins?  Why should I go, especially if, despite my best intentions, I may fall back into the same sins over and over again? 
    We clean our temples for God (and our homes for guests) because we want to give our best.  We clean our house for guests because we value their presence, and show that value by cleaning up the areas in which they might be (despite how horrible it is to mop, clean windows, vacuum, etc.).  We clean our temple for God because we value His presence, and want Him to feel “at home” in our souls.  Sin, especially serious sin, is contrary to who God is.  So we clean up so that He knows how much we want Him to be with us, and that we want Him to pray with us in our souls.  But, in this case, it’s really God who does the cleaning, as we cannot eliminate our sins by ourselves. 
    But even deeper than the metaphor of cleaning, confession is a chance to come into the presence of God, and experience His love.  God hates sin, but He does not hate us.  He does not want anything to stand between us and Him, and so He gives us the remedy for the sickness which we take upon ourselves when we choose to disobey Him.  Confession allows God’s mercy to wash over us and heal all those wounds that we inflicted. 
    How can that happen?  First, we must be sorry.  What the Church requires is that we have at least imperfect contrition, or as it was called in seminary, attrition.  This is the knowledge that we have messed up, and the sorrow for doing so, based upon the fact that we know it’s wrong, or we know we shouldn’t want to do the sin, or that we don’t want to go to Hell.  The fact that all that is required is attrition is itself a mercy, as what we should have is perfect contrition, or the sorrow for having sinned, not because of “the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offend thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love.” 
    Or, to put it in the context of a marital covenant (which God does all the time in the Scriptures), when we sin we cheat on God; we are unfaithful to Him.  Attrition is the sorrow we have because we got caught in adultery.  Contrition, perfect contrition, is the sorrow we have because we know, or have some sense, of how much it hurt our spouse and the damage it did to the marital relationship. 
    Beyond being sorry, even imperfectly, we also need to have a firm amendment not to sin again.  We might wonder why we should go, if we think we’re going to sin again in this particular way.  I often put it this way: we hope that we won’t sin in that way again, even if that seems unlikely.  But, if we would be open to the grace God gives, then we would not want to sin again in that way.  And we should have confidence in God’s mercy, that it can at least start us down the path of not falling into that sin again. 
    We also need to confess actual sins.  The Church requires that we confess all mortal sins in number and kind.  This doesn’t mean you have to give the priest all the gory details.  But it does mean that you are honest.  God is our Divine Physician, but He does’t force His medicine upon us, so if we don’t tell Him the pain, He will not force His healing on us.  So we confess every mortal sin, which is a sin that is gravely wrong, we know it’s bad, but we freely choose it anyway.  Grave sins are the most serious: taking God’s name in vain; skipping Mass without a legitimate reason; killing an innocent person; committing adultery, fornication, or self-gratification; stealing something of significance (which may vary with age and financial means); lying in a serious case (like to a police office or in court), pornography and/or staring at a person for an extended time with lust; etc.  We also have to know that the sin is wrong, and then we have to freely choose to do it.  Addictions can sometimes lessen the freedom that we have to do an action. 
    And, no matter how strongly we do a venial sin, it doesn’t change it to a mortal sin.  We still shouldn’t sin venially, but if the sin is not serious matter, it cannot be mortal.  We do not need to confess all venial sins, as those are forgiven in entirety (even those we forgot) through confession, and through reception of the Eucharist (as long as we don’t have other mortal sins on our soul).  Venial sins which we frequently commit are great types of sins to confess.
    Lastly, we need to intend to do the penance.  Sometimes penances are more than simply prayers or reading Scripture, so you’ll need to do them when you get home.  But as long as you intend to do the penance, you can still receive Holy Communion after confession.  And, if the penance is not something you can do at all, let the priest know when he gives you the penance, rather than having to confess later that you did not do your penance. 
    The Church commands us to confess once per year.  But why not more?  If confession is an encounter with our loving God, who heals us of our wounds, then once per year is the bare minimum, and we should seek to experience that special love of God whenever we need to, and even if we don’t need to, when it’s available.  We’re not to be scrupulous, to think that every sin separates us from sanctifying grace–the grace that allows us to be in right relationship with God.  But we also don’t want to treat confession as something we do only when we need to because we’re in mortal sin. 
    Confession is a cleansing of the temple of our souls, but more than that, it’s a chance to receive the mercy of God.  Don’t miss out on a chance for God to show you this special kind of love.  Regularly ask for that merciful encounter with our compassionate God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Being A Good Steward (Precept #5)

 Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As we pass through these Sundays after Pentecost, I thought it would be good to focus on some thematic preaching.  I still want to tie it to the readings, in some way, maybe only loosely, but still seeing how our faith and the Word of God are intertwined.  So, I’ve decided, for the next weeks, to concentrate on the Precepts of the Church.
    There are five precepts, which are described as “positive laws decreed by the pastoral authorities…meant to guarantee to the faithful the very necessary minimum in the spirit of prayer and moral effort, int he growth in love of God and neighbor.”  So these are not all there is to being Catholic, but we could call them the basic rules and expectations of membership in the institutional Church.  The five (as found in the Catechism, paragraphs 2041-2043) are:

You shall attend Mass on Sundays and on holy days of obligation and rest from servile labor;
You shall confess your sins at least once a year
You shall receive the sacrament of the Eucharist at least during the Easter season;
You shall observe the days of fasting and abstinence established by the Church
You shall help to provide for the needs of the Church
 

Again, there are other necessary aspects of being Catholic (belief in the revealed dogmas of faith and living revealed moral teachings, respect and obedience to legitimate ecclesiastical authority, daily prayer, etc.), but these give us a base line.  Today, based upon our Gospel, I would like to focus on the last precept: you shall help to provide for the needs of the Church.

    Today's Gospel focuses on stewardship.  Our Lord tells a parable about a dishonest steward, who then makes side deals with the debtors, hoping that one of them will take him in after he’s fired, since he’s not able to do hard labor, and too ashamed to beg.  The fifth precept tells us that we are to provide for the needs of the Church, including, it goes on to say, the material needs of the Church, “each according to his abilities.”  
    We probably naturally go to money when we think of the needs of the Church and possibly even the word stewardship.  Priests are either very hesitant or very quick to talk about money.  One layman joked that when a priest talks about money it can be called the Sermon on the Amount.  Personally, I try to avoid talking about money unless I need to.  But this one time probably won’t hurt too much (for you or for me).
    Because, honestly, the people of St. Matthew are very generous.  And I greatly appreciate your generosity.  I believe that people give what they can, according to their financial realities.  As St. Paul says, he does not want us to make ourselves poor in assisting others, but that each could have enough, based on their own situations.  Some give weekly, others give monthly; some give cash or checks, others donate online with a credit card.  We recently have been the beneficiary or a large bequest, which is helping to make our office renovation a reality, so some even remember St. Matthew after death.  But, I’ll admit, it took me a while as a young man to consider giving to the church.  In high school, even though I was working a summer maintenance job for my parish, I’m pretty sure I didn’t give anything.  I didn’t make much, and that continued as a seminarian, and so I didn’t give much or anything.  But, after I was ordained, I made a commitment to give at least 5% of my income to the Church (whether the parish or the Diocese or even the universal Church), which would then leave me to donate up to 5% to other organizations.  And I think I’ve been pretty faithful to that.  But I don’t remember being approached by anyone as a young man, to remember to give.  So, for all you young adults, whether living with your parents or living on your own, here’s my plug: consider giving to the parish.  Maybe it’s only a buck or two every week, but you’ll be part of supporting our great parish.  
    Why give?  Because a steward is one who recognizes that what he has is not his.  A steward uses the goods of the master, with the master’s authority.  But they don’t, strictly speaking, belong to the steward.  When it comes to us, everything we have, whether directly or indirectly, comes from God.  The talents we use to get a good job come from God.  The talents of entrepreneurs who form companies that then hire us come from God.  Everything eventually gets traced back to God.  And so, as part of the virtue of justice, we give back to God some of what He has given to us.
    But I know that many of you are blessed with large families, and so don’t have a lot of money, even to give to the church.  And that is why it’s important to note that stewardship is not only about money.  It’s also about time and talent.  
    I have been so impressed by the donation of time and talent of parishioners here!  We have groups that help clean the church, ushers who collect our paper hand missals, gardeners who help care for the flowers, catechists who help form children (sometimes their own) and adults in the faith, those who donate food for our potlucks, members of our Finance Council and Pastoral Council who help guide the future of the parish, sacristans, servers, cantors, and the list goes on and on (I do not mean to leave you out, so please don’t take offense if I did not explicitly mention your group or activity).  People giving their time and talent to the parish are also a great sign of health and vitality.  And it gives a way for all people, those with large incomes and those who struggle to make ends meet each week, a way to build up the Mystical Body of Christ.
    And that is the real point of stewardship: that we do what we can to serve Christ.  I’m not the judge of your stewardship: that belongs to the Lord, who sees not only the external gifts, but also the internal gifts, and judges justly.  But we can never rest on our laurels when it comes to being good stewards.  Each June I re-evaluate how I am being a good steward of what God gave me, just as each Lent I re-evaluate my beneficiaries for what I will leave behind.  It’s a good thing not to view our stewardship with the perspective of fear, but in the freedom of being poor in spirit, relying on God for what we need and doing what we can to help others who are in need, to be, as St. Theresa of Avila says, the hands of God.  

    Thank you for your generosity of time, talent, and treasure, which helps St. Matthew continue to be a lamp in the city of Flint, radiating the truth and love of Christ to a city which desperately needs it.  Let’s re-evaluate what we can do, so that we can be even better stewards of all that our generous God has entrusted to us, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.