Vision and Ventilators

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    We hear this familiar Gospel passage, and probably, if we are honest, we don’t like this parable too much.  Perhaps now, more than ever, we all want to get what is ours, what we are owed, and we want what we feel is just.  The idea that someone could work for one hour, and receive the same amount of money as a person who worked for an entire day seems ludicrous.  But Jesus never promises that everyone will get the same amount. 
    This really speaks to how much God values spreading the Gospel.  He is willing to pay someone a full day’s wages as long as they work hard, no matter how long they worked.  The obvious message is the relationship between those who were “faithful” Jews, and those who were making last-minute conversions.  It could also easily be extended to mean the Jews (who were called from of old) and the Gentiles, who were only joined to the olive tree of Israel after Christ broke down the barriers between Jew and Gentile by His Death and Resurrection. 

    And we even see this parable at work in a real situation in St. Dismas, the good thief, who was crucified with Jesus, but who prayed that he would be with Jesus in paradise.  “‘Amen, I say to you,’” said our Lord, “‘today you will be with me in Paradise.’”  We have no evidence that St. Dismas had followed Jesus at all during his lifetime, and the only thing we know about him before his death is that he was a criminal, often times described as a thief.  But hours after his statement of faith in Jesus, he would be in heaven. 
    Do we have the same drive for the spreading of the kingdom of God as did the landowner?  Are we willing to pay dearly so that the Gospel can be shared, even to the point of foolishness?  Or do we have other motivating factors for our actions, that we feel are more fair or equitable?
    Jeff and Mary Love, Karen Downs, Deacon Dave and I, recently attended the first of three meetings on helping parishes spread the Gospel.  The meetings are co-hosted by the Diocese of Lansing and the Catholic Leadership Institute.  We learned about parish vision, core values, and purpose statements.  For St. Pius X, it was all a bit awkward, as we know we are on a trajectory towards closing.  In talking privately with one of the facilitators, I spoke about the preference you expressed, to exist until we ran out of sufficient funds.  He asked the question that has been on my heart since you voiced your desire for St. Pius X: is this really what would advance the kingdom more?  Is this really the best path for spreading the Gospel, not just in Flint Township, but for Genesee County and the Diocese of Lansing?
    I know that your preference is based on your love of St. Pius X.  It is hard to let go of something so dear to us, especially when some of you helped to found St. Pius X with your family.  Change is never easy, especially the longer we live, and holding to the status quo requires the least amount of change.  But is it operating with the same drive that Jesus describes in the Gospel for spreading the kingdom and sharing the Gospel, such that resources are brought to bear on those who will do that work?

    To be sure, I understand the mindset of wanting to hold on for as long as possible, even when the end seems obvious.  In late March of 2020 we were at the very beginning of a virus about which we knew little.  Ventilators were in high demand and short supply.  Those with pre-existing conditions were especially vulnerable.  It was in that context that my grandfather, whom most called Jesse, contracted COVID from his nursing home.  He was taken to Sparrow Hospital for treatment.  For his kids and grandkids, including me, it was scary.  The mortality rate was rising quickly, and no one seemed to know how to treat COVID effectively.  My grandfather started out with a cough, needing a little bit of oxygen from a mask from time to time.  He had some good days, and things seemed to be holding steady.  We, of course, were not allowed to visit, except by Zoom.  As the days progressed, though, things got worse.  Eventually the occasional dose of oxygen from a mask became the nasal cannula, the thing they stick in your nostrils in order to deliver oxygen all the time.  We grandkids made a video holding up signs, telling him we loved him.  Around that same time that we showed the video, the nasal cannula was proving not enough, and he was going to need a ventilator.  My mom and her siblings had to decide what to do next. 
    My grandfather was 93.  He had been a strong man throughout his life.  His children, who loved him dearly, and most of whom could not see him, even if they traveled from being out-of-State, would not have a chance to say good-bye in person if they decided to withhold further care.  But, as hard as it was, they made the decision not to use the ventilator, as it was not always proving useful in treatment, especially for the elderly, and perhaps that ventilator could help a younger person who had a better chance of surviving the Coronavirus.  He died shortly after being removed from oxygen on 9 April 2020.
    Do I wish I could have been with my grandfather in his last moments, giving him the Sacrament of the Sick and the Apostolic Pardon?  Certainly.  Would I have done anything to keep him around longer and put him on the ventilator so that we could have, hopefully, a few more days?  No.  At the time, the what-ifs were frequent in my mind, but I know my mom and her brothers made the right decision.  It wasn’t easy, but it was for the greater good.  And I would like to believe, though I have no proof of this, that someone else who needed a ventilator benefited and maybe even had his life saved from the machine that my grandfather would have been using if that route of care had been chosen. 
    Our mission is to spread the Gospel.  I have been preaching that since I arrived in 2016.  We have groups who are active here in the parish, working hard to strengthen their faith, and I applaud those groups.  But I think, if we’re honest, we know where this is going.  From factors both in and outside of our control, our parish is dying. 
    So what is the best thing for us to do?  Is it to remain as long as we can, and just spend money to have the semblance of a parish so that we can pretend everything is ok and pretend that hundreds more people are going to start coming to St. Pius X in the next months or year?  Is that the calculation that the landowner makes for spreading the Gospel of the kingdom?  Or can those resources, both personal and financial, be better used by supporting other parishes in the area?  Could the ventilator we have chosen to use, which may prolong things but which will not cure things, be better used by someone else?
    We hear in our Gospel the paradigm that God uses for evaluating what is best: how can I get more workers for the vineyard to spread the Gospel?  Is that the paradigm that we are using as a parish as we continue our on pilgrimage to closing?  Or do we have another paradigm for how long we should exist?  I know what we all want.  But is what we want in line with the mission of any parish: to spread the Gospel as effectively as possible?  

Love which Helps Us Love

Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi)

    This past Thursday I celebrated the tenth anniversary of ordination to the priesthood.  Sometimes the days are long, other times the days pass quickly, but it’s hard to believe that I’ve been a priest for a decade. I look back and can remember some great moments at each of the three parishes at which I served, and I can remember some moments that I’d probably rather forget at each parish.  But that’s life, isn’t it?  It’s no different for married couples, who promise fidelity in good times and in bad.
    What is it that keeps priests and married couples going through the ups and downs?  It’s love.  Last week I mentioned that love is one of the most fundamental things for humanity, and that Bishop Barron defines love as willing the good of the other.  To love is to act in a way that places the other above oneself, and to do what it takes to help the other, no matter the cost.  As a priest, love means getting up at 2 a.m. to go to a nursing home and baptize and confirm a dying man who had earlier requested to a nurse to become Catholic; love means standing with a family and helping them grieve in the hope of the resurrection as they bury their newborn baby, or dad or mom; love means bringing a couple together in marriage, some of whom have been preparing for marriage for over a year, some of whom have just found out that the intended is about to be deployed overseas and they need to be married soon so that the US military will pay for the move to military housing; love means feeling the crushing sting of defeat in a State Championship game one year, and crying tears of pain with the seniors who will never play organized soccer again, as well as the sweet taste of victory in the State Championship game the following year, and crying tears of joy with the team who achieved the goal they set for themselves before the season even began; love means baptizing, forgiving, and confirming all in the name of Christ; and yes, sometimes love even means correcting a sheep who is starting to wander away, and the pain of that correction not having its intended effect to call back, but pushing the sheep farther away.
    As a priest, as of last Thursday, I have celebrated or concelebrated 4,073 Masses, baptized 116 people, confirmed 60 people, blessed the marital unions of 67 couples, and been the principal celebrant of 174 funerals, including 4 grandparents and other family members.  There are a lot of things that have gotten me through all of these times in three parishes: a loving family; friends, especially one or two that I can vent to; my brother priests; from time-to-time a drink or two; but most of all, the Eucharist: the Body and Blood of Christ.
    And the reason why the Eucharist is what really gets me through is because the Eucharist is love.  Follow the connections: God is love, Jesus is God, the Eucharist is Jesus, so the Eucharist is love.  And it’s not only true intellectually.  We know that the Eucharist is the fruit of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, the fruit of His love for us.  And His love for us is precisely proven in that He was willing to die for us.  Jesus Himself said that no one has greater love than to lay down his life for a friend.  The weight that Jesus had in saying that was that, in about a day from when he said it, He would lay down His life for His bride, the Church.  But since most of the apostles would not be there, and because He wanted the Church through all time to be able to be joined to that sacrifice of love, He instituted the Eucharist and the priesthood on Holy Thursday, so that we would not only think of His love, or remember His love, but we would be able to partake of His love. 
    But the Eucharist isn’t simply for priests to give them strength and spiritual nutrition in their vocation.  No matter what your vocation, the Eucharist is meant to strengthen and nourish you.  It is meant to increase your joys and lessen your sorrows.  By receiving love Himself, the Body and Blood of Christ, you are meant to be empowered to love more, to will the good of others, whether it’s the members of your family, your co-workers, or even the stranger you meet on the street.  The Eucharist is the love which allows you to show love by caring for a sick family member all through the night; to go to sporting events for your children, grandchildren, nephews and nieces; to support friends and family as they begin married life, or even as they struggle through married life; to walk through the valley of the shadow of death for those you know; to work to the best of your ability with integrity in your job; to treat everyone as created in the image and likeness of God. 
    I thank God for my ten years as a priest.  I thank God for sending me to East Lansing, to Adrian, and now here in Flint.  But most of all, I thank God for the Eucharist, the fruit of Jesus’ love, which allows me, unworthy though I am, to love to the best of my ability, and act in Jesus’ power and name. 

Challenges for the Holy Family

Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph

This Christmas was different than in years past.  In the past the tradition was always to visit my mom’s parents on Christmas Eve, celebrate Christmas as an immediate family Christmas Day morning, and then go to my dad’s parents for Christmas Day dinner.  Then, when I became a priest, we tweaked things a little to adjust to my new responsibilities.  This year, with both my mom’s mom and my dad’s mom deceased (and I think many of us know how mom’s are often the glue that holds the family together), we celebrated our immediate family Christmas on Christmas Eve morning, and invited both grandfathers over later in the morning so that we could see them.

Those changes weren’t easy.  And this year especially it felt like Christmas celebrations were truncated, even though I got to see my immediate family and both grandfathers.  I am certainly the kind of person who likes to leave traditions the way that they have been.  But, with both grandmothers now gone from this earth, it was inevitable that things would change.  And, we’ll see what happens for Christmas 2019.

In our parish family over this past year I’ve buried my fair share of grandparents, and some younger people, too.  We’ve had 19 funerals of active, sometimes very active, parishioners since 2018 began.  The trend, going back at least to 2014, but likely before, of losing 80-90 parishioners per year according to our October counts, has continued to the present, where we’re down to just under 400 people who attend Mass at St. Pius X each weekend.  These changes to our parish family precipitate adjustments, just like changes in our biological family yield new realities.  Adjustments are difficult.  Changes can be hard, especially when they are not always communicated well or received well.  Each member of the family takes changes differently, and that’s no different with our parish family.  Over my past three years here, there have been some who have been very welcoming to changes of different kinds that were made, about 25% of the people.  There have been some who have been very vocal about not liking the changes, about 25% of the people.  There have been some who have not communicated delight or disgust, about 50% of the people.  Some have joined our parish family because of changes; some have left our parish family because of changes.  

As we celebrate the Holy Family, I think we forget that their life was not easy, not really in any way.  Before Joseph and Mary were married, Mary comes to Joseph and says that she’s pregnant, and that the child is not his.  But don’t worry, it’s the Son of God, conceived by the Holy Spirit!  Talk about changes!!  Then, as Mary’s ready to give birth, Joseph and Mary, pregnant with Jesus, have to travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem for a census put on by the Roman government, which was none too kind to Jews.  Then, they finally make it to Bethlehem, only to be told that there’s no room (because of the census), they should have left earlier if they needed a place to stay, so they go to a nearby cave, which I’m sure is the exact place any mother would want to give birth, especially when you’re child is the Son of God!

After settling in Bethlehem for around 2 years, the Magi visit, and bring unique gifts.  But then, Joseph is warned in a dream that he has to take Mary to Egypt, because King Herod wants to kill Jesus.  Egypt was not a place a Jew went willingly.  When Joseph, the son of Jacob, from the Old Testament, went down to Egypt, it eventually led to 400 years of slavery.  Deciding to settle in Egypt is like asking a Spartan to settle down in Ann Arbor, or a Wolverine to settle down in Columbus.  And yet, on the road again, Joseph, Mary, and the Christ Child are obedient to God.  After King Herod dies, the Holy Family travels back to Judea, but because of another not-so-hot king, they again settle in Nazareth, a very backwoods part of the area called Galilee.  And we all heard the story about losing Jesus in the temple.  And then Joseph dies sometime before Jesus turns 30, and Mary follows Jesus, because she has no one to take care of her.  

The Holy Family was a family that was, more often than not, going through changes and challenges.  And yet, they are our example of how to respond: by trusting in God.  They didn’t complain; they didn’t tell God that if there was one more change they were going to stop believing in Him.  Theirs was a true example of patient perseverance in following God.

St. Paul also reminds us how we can all navigate changes that happen in our lives, both those in our biological family and those in our parish family: “heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another.  […] And over these put on love.”  That’s how we can imitate the Holy Family every day.  It’s certainly a tall order, but it’s also a recipe for how to be saints.

Just like the Holy Family, our life will probably include changes, some of which will be difficult.  But we all can look to the Holy Family to see how to trust in God, to remain faithful, even in the midst of difficult changes.  

Team Work

Solemnity of the Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Pius X Church

One of the fun parts of being a parish priest is the different events to which I get to go: football, basketball, and soccer games, just to name a few.  This past Wednesday I had the opportunity to watch our 7th and 8th grade girls basketball team play basketball.  We didn’t get the result we wanted (that is to say, we lost), but it was great watching our girls play.  They work well as a team, passing the ball, shooting when they have the shot, and getting back to play defense.  Each of them has to work together; none of them can do it all by herself.  Jaelynn relies on a trusts her teammates like Layla to pass to, Ari can support Emily and set a pick, and Mimi, Lauren, Sierra, and Emma have to support each other in the plays they run and in the constant back and forth of basketball.     

I also have attended some of the Powers boys soccer games this season.  I played soccer for 9 years when I was younger, and it’s fun to be involved with it again.  Soccer is definitely a sport, like basketball, where each person has to contribute in a particular way; no one person can do it all by himself.  If a defender like Trevor or Connor decides on his own to try to play offense and score a goal, it can lead to big trouble; if mid-fielders like Mason or Dominic don't adjust to the flow of the game, pushing up when the team is on offense, and falling back when the team is on defense, the team is likely to lose; even if the forwards, whose primary job is to provide offense and score goals, like Drew or Brian or Blase, don’t occasionally look up to see if someone else has a better shot, the team may not score as many goals as they could have.

Today we celebrate the Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Pius X Church.  On 23 September 1956, this building, a grouping of bricks and mortar, was dedicated to God as a place to worship Him.  This place was set aside as a pre-eminent place to call on God, and where God promised that He would always be present, especially in the Sacrament of the Eucharist in the Tabernacle.  Experiencing God here is different than praying in our rooms, or in nature, because this place is set-aside from the rest of the world to be a special place where we can encounter God and worship Him in spirit and truth.  Here God’s covenant with us in the Precious Blood of Jesus is re-presented, made present to us again, in a way that happens no where else.  That’s why Catholics are generally required to get married in a church building.  As they make their covenant with God and each other, they are in the presence of the covenant God has made with us.

This church building, too, is a sign to us of what we are called to be as members of the Body of Christ.  Each brick plays its own important role; each piece of the window does its part to let the light of the sun in; each piece of liturgical furniture works together to allow God to become present through His People assembled as one, through His Word proclaimed, through the Priest acting in the Person of Christ the Head, and especially in the Body and Blood of Jesus in the Eucharist.  So, too, we each have our role in the church.  We each contribute to making up the parish of St. Pius X.  As your pastor, my primary role is to provide you with God’s grace, especially through the Sacraments of the Eucharist and Penance, and to oversee the work of the parish.  Some of you help in proclaiming God’s Word; some of you are Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion and help bring Jesus in the Eucharist to those who are here and those who are not able to join us at Mass; some of you work on staff; others volunteer in a variety of ways and in different organizations; some of you are already so busy with taking care of your family that your role is joining us for Mass, helping to provide for the parish by your stewardship of money, and helping to spread the Gospel in your daily lives through word and deed.

Like our girls basketball team or the Powers soccer team, we have to work together.  We cannot do everything ourselves.  We work together to achieve our goals as a parish.  Imagine if the roof decided it didn’t like providing cover from the direct sun, the rain, and the snow.  If it doesn’t perform it’s important, though perhaps not glamorous, duty, we’d be sunburned or wet.  Imagine if the doors wanted to be closer to the tabernacle, so they moved into the sanctuary.  We’d have no way to welcome parishioners and visitors in, nor ways to keep vandals and thieves out.  If our girls basketball team members decided that they each wanted to score every basket, or only wanted to play defense, we wouldn’t win a game.  If the Powers soccer team decided they weren’t going to play their positions and support each other, we’d be last in the Saginaw Valley League.  Today as we celebrate the 60th Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Pius X Church, we are invited to work together in our diverse and unified roles to help build up the Body of Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.