Rough Waters for Faithful Disciples

Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Recently, Disney World decided to do away with Splash Mountain, a water ride which followed the cartoon “Song of the South,” due to, shall we say, cultural sensitivities.  The ride has you in a boat that looks like a log, and the end of the ride (which I very much enjoyed) was a 52.5 foot drop stopped by water, which sprayed the water over those in the boat.  There are pictures of people in the ride with their hands up and screaming, like on many other roller coasters.
    Sometimes our life can feel like we’re in a 52.5 foot drop in a boat, and it makes us put our hands up and scream!  No doubt, the Apostles felt something akin to that when they were in the boat with our Lord (who was sleeping), and the storms were creating large waves around them.  They even cried out to the Lord that they were going to die if He didn’t save them.  Christ then commands the storm to quiet down, and returns to normal and calm waters.  The Apostles then make an act of faith in who Christ is.
    No doubt, they were thinking of Psalm 106.  It reads (starting at verse 23):
 

Some…plied their trade on the deep waters.…
He commanded and rouse a storm wind;
it tossed the waves on high.
They rose up to the heavens, sank to the depths;
their hearts trembled at the danger.
They reeled, staggered like drunkards;
their skill was of no avail.
In their distress they cried to the Lord,
who brought them out of their peril;
He hushed the storm to silence,
the waves of the sea were stilled.

As good Jews who would have been used to praying the psalms, no doubt they would have remembered this passage, and sensed that this was no ordinary rabbi, but the God who had the authority to calm the waters.  Perhaps they also thought back to the very beginning of the Book of Genesis, where God ordered the primordial waters of chaos and created all things.  
    In our life Christ sometimes allows storms.  Sometimes He does this as a manifestation (𝜀𝜋𝜄𝜙𝛼𝜈𝜀𝜄𝛼 is the Greek word) of who He is; that He is God.  He also does this as a way to increase our faith in His care for us, and that, no matter how turbulent things may be, He will not abandon us.
    We’re used to hearing stories about this from the ancient martyrs, and even more recent martyrs.  But I know that it can often seem very remote from us, as something that only really special people go through.  But it can happen to even today, and those who suffer for the Gospel and persevered are great role models for us to stay in the boat with our Lord, and trust that He will calm the waters, one way or another.

    My mind turns especially to His Eminence, George Cardinal Pell.  He was Archbishop of Melbourne, Australia, and then became Archbishop of Sydney.  He was named to the College of Cardinals by Pope St. John Paul II in 2003, and participated in the conclave that elected Pope Benedict XVI.  Pope Francis chose Cardinal Pell to help him reform the Roman Curia, and named him Prefect for the Secretariat of the Economy, to clean up the finances of the Holy See.
    In 2017, Cardinal Pell was falsely accused of a series of sexual crimes, which he vehemently denied.  Though the first trial ended in a mistrial, and there were faulty evidence and visual aids that would have shown how preposterous the charges were, Cardinal Pell was convicted of 5 counts of abuse against minors in 2018.  He appealed, and the Court of Appeal of the Supreme Court of Victoria rejected the appeals.  Cardinal Pell appealed in 2019 to the High Court of Australia, which was his last shot.  In 2020, the court overturned the conviction because of exculpatory evidence, and Cardinal Pell was acquitted.  However, until his acquittal in April 2020, Cardinal Pell had been required to serve the sentence, much of it in solitary confinement, and had been incarcerated for 404 days.  He was not allowed to celebrate Mass while in prison, and relied on the Divine Office, the Liturgy of the Hours, to keep him connected to the liturgical life of the Church.  George Cardinal Pell died 10 January 2023 after surgery complications.
    Here was a churchman who was respected by numerous pontiffs, who so often stood up for the truth of the Gospel and the teachings of Christ’s Church, and yet still had to withstand violent storms for over a year.  He published his journal that he kept in prison, of how he made it through, and it was due to sticking with Christ.  One might understand how a person who had served Christ and been treated so horribly could have had an excuse (not legitimate, but still, an excuse) to abandon Christ.  But Cardinal Pell didn’t.  He stayed with Christ through it all.  He stayed in the boat with his Savior. 
    Throughout the storms of our life, Christ invites us to stay with Him.  We may worry, we may cry out, but the most important thing to know is that God has us in the palm of His hand.  And if God has us, then nothing can harm our eternal salvation, which is the most important aspect of life.  In contrast to the eternity of life after death, even 100 years is like a minute in a day (if we even make it to 100). 
    What should we do when we are in storms in life?  Certainly pray and continue to communicate with the Savior.  But also, do what St. Paul said in our epistle today, what Cardinal Pell exhibited during his unjust imprisonment: love one another; follow the commandments; love our neighbor as ourselves.  Indeed, Cardinal Pell forgave his accusers and all those who had harmed him.  We prove our love for God, not so much in the easy times, but in the difficult times, and show whether or not we are truly followers of Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen.  

How to Survive the Storms

Fourth Sunday after Epiphany
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Years after a major council, there are still disagreements about how to implement it.  Parishioners from a major church participating in idol worship.  Sexual immorality at which even pagans would blush.  People trying to buy influence in the Church.  A well-known archbishop telling the pope he’s wrong.  Believers claiming they have access to what Jesus really meant.  Faithful bishops being killed.  Heretics infiltrating dioceses and claiming to speak with apostolic authority. 
    You might think I’m talking about the Church after the Second Vatican Council.  Instead, I’m talking about the apostolic days of the Church.  In our mind, we easily think that the first days of the Church were easy and trouble free.  We often like to think of them as the golden age of Catholicism.  And certainly God blessed His Church abundantly in the days of the apostles first spreading the Gospel.  But Paul talks about how not everyone agreed with the Council of Jerusalem, which said that Greeks did not have to become Jews and obey the Mosaic law to be a follower of Jesus.  People were buying meat sacrificed to idols.  Paul condemns those in Corinth who are practicing immorality and tells them to be cut off for a time for their own good.  Peter flip-flopping on whether or not he would eat with Gentiles.  The early beginnings of gnosticism, claiming a secret knowledge of the true teachings of Jesus.  Apostles being martyred at an alarming rate.  Circumcisers saying that they are super-apostles, and that others should listen to them, not Paul.  This was the early Church; not exactly a bed of roses.
    In the State Police, each Trooper Recruit School feels like it was the last truly difficult recruit school, and that all the others that came after are easy in comparison.  Inversely, we tend to think that our suffering is the worst, whether personal, economic, or ecclesiastical, and no one has had it as hard as we have.  Do we have it hard?  Certainly.  There is still disagreement about the implementation of the Second Vatican Council, or some even doubt if it’s a real council (in case you’re wondering, it is).  Pachamama.  We are definitely reaping the fruits as a society of the sexual revolution.  Economic scandals and worse are in the Church.  Bishops arguing with each other and the Pope.  Faithful Catholics of all states of life being martyred.  Confusion about who speaks with authority in the Church.  The waves are certainly crashing around the barque of Peter.

    Whether in the Church, or in our own personal or business life, we might feel like the apostles in the boat.  We’re doing all we can, using our best knowledge and skills to keep the boat afloat, and it seems like the Lord doesn’t care; He’s asleep.  We’re taking on water, we’re afraid of capsizing.  So we call out to the Lord to save us.
    Did you notice in the Gospel that Christ’s first course of action is not to calm the waves.  The first thing our Lord does is question the faith of the apostles.  Why are you afraid?  Why are you doubting?  Then He commands the storm to be still, and it is.  We keep calling out to the Savior, but maybe we feel like he’s not doing what we want Him to do.
    Psalm 107 (106 in the Douay-Reims), verses 27-29 says
 

They reeled, staggered like drunkards; their skill was of no avail.  In their distress they cried to the Lord, who brought them out of their peril; He hushed the storm to silence, the waves of the sea were stilled.

Christ, in calming the sea, was proving that He was God.  He was proving His command over the  waters, which were the ancient symbol of chaos and disorder.  
    But often times, we think that we should take the place of God and handle things ourselves.  Again, this can be in our personal, work, or church life.  Maybe we’re struggling with a family member, and rather than turning to prayer and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we make a plan of action without consulting the Almighty.  Or perhaps a fellow employee is not doing his or her job, and we feel upset that we are working hard, while the other person is not.  Do we immediately “turn him or her in”, or do we pray for guidance and seek to understand if maybe that person has some other issues outside of work which are affecting his or her ability to do the job.  Perhaps maybe we can even assist that person and help resolve what is going on, rather than simply seeking termination for him or her. 
    I know that many are upset with the recent suggested restrictions on the Extraordinary Form from Pope Francis and the Congregation for Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments.  Even though Bishop Boyea has been quite generous in continuing this Mass and the access to sacraments celebrated in the usus antiquior, I also know that some have considered going to Masses celebrated by the Society of St. Pius X if they don’t have the access they desire.  That approach isn’t staying in the boat and waiting for our Lord to help.  That approach is jumping ship into a dinghy that is partially tethered to the boat.  When there is no other option to celebrate the sacraments validly within a 30-60 minute drive, then yes, the Church does allow for sacramental participation in schismatic groups, like SSPX and even the Orthodox (if they allow it).  But outside of that scenario, which does not exist currently here, participating in the sacramental life of a schismatic church is a sin against the unity of the Church, and I would advise, in the strongest way possible, not even entertaining that sinful attitude. 
    Is Christ no longer God?  Has His promise to protect His Church suddenly failed?  Can He who stilled the storm and waves not ensure the safety of His Bride, our holy Mother, the Church?  If we leave, even for a day, we are implicitly saying that Christ cannot provide for us, that Christ cannot protect us, and that we must turn to those who have rejected union with Rome for the sure path.  But those who have rejected Rome have never been the sure path, not even in the darkest days of the Church throughout the centuries. 
    Our current times may seem like the worst ever.  For us, they may be.  But it is not the end.  Christ promise that the gates of hell will not prevail against His Church is not unfulfilled.  Yes, the storms rage around us.  Yes, the waves are breaking over the ship, and we are, in some ways, taking on water.  But if we stay in the boat in Jesus, then we need not fear, we need not doubt.  If we leave, we can be sure that Christ will say to us, “Why do you fear, O you of little faith?”  But if we remain, connected to the perennial truths of the faith which cannot change in the Church which always remains the Bride of Christ, we can merit to hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.  Come, share your Master’s joy!”