The Comfort of the Truth

Second Sunday of Advent

            “Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God.”  When I heard the word comfort, and try to think of what comforts me, I think of a cold, snowy evening, sitting by the fireplace, the living room lit only by a few flickering flames from candles, drinking my family recipe of hot spiced cider, and watching a favorite television show or movie.  For others it might be a hot tub, or a warm beach, or even just a pint of Häagen Dazs.  Or maybe you’ve got your own sense of what comforts you that is radically different from the examples I just listed. 

            It’s beautiful to hear the words of Isaiah the prophet, telling us that God wants to bring us comfort.  “Speak tenderly,” he says, “and proclaim to her that her service is at an end; her guilt is expiated…Go up on a high mountain…cry out at the top of your voice…Here is your God!  […] Like a shepherd he feeds his flock; in his arms he gathers the lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and leading the ewes with care.”  Who doesn’t want to know that the Lord is going to speak tenderly to us, to proclaim that our service is at an end, and that our guilt is no more?  Who doesn’t want the Lord to come as a shepherd, feeding his flock, gathering us in his arms and carrying us close to his chest?

            So what do we do with the middle part of the first reading and our Gospel?  We heard twice, “A voice cries out: In the desert prepare the way of the LORD!  Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!”  We have traditionally associated that proclamation with St. John the Baptist who, as St. Mark wrote in today’s Gospel passage, “appeared in the desert proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”  If any of you have seen the movie “Jesus of Nazareth” by Franco Zeffirelli, you can picture how enthused John the Baptist was about his message.  In the movie, John the Baptist is screaming at the top of his lungs: Repent!  And he’s only wearing a camel’s hair tunic and a leather belt around his waist, eating locusts and honey.  In fact, he screams so much that Herod has him arrested for preaching against his so-called marriage to his brother’s wife.  This is not the warm, pastoral scene that Isaiah has at the end of our first reading.  And it certainly doesn’t seem like the comfort that Isaiah prophesies at the beginning of our first reading.  So why is the figure of John the Baptist, the one crying out in the wilderness: Prepare the Way of the Lord, sandwiched between those two soft images?

            What John preaches is the truth.  As St. Augustine says in one of His sermons, Jesus is the word, and John is the voice.  Jesus is what is being proclaimed, and John is the one proclaiming it.  John is preaching repentance, which is the beginning of the comfort that God wants to give.  “But change is hard!  Change isn’t comfortable!”  Change can be difficult.  We’re seeing that as we slowly get used to our new translations, saying “And with your spirit” instead of “And also with you.”  But what is most comfortable is the truth.  The truth is precisely what gives comfort.  It may not always seem like it does, but if Jesus is the Truth, as he says (I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life), then when we receive the truth, we receive Jesus, who is the shepherd, drawing us close to his bosom, and leading us with care, from lies to truth, from darkness to light, from slavery to sin to freedom in God’s commandments. 

            It is true, sometimes the truth hurts, and we don’t usually associate that hurt with comfort.  But that painful truth is like knowing the reality that our infected wound has to be drained.  It is going to be painful at first, probably very painful, but it will actually be comforting to know that the infection is being treated, and the wound will heal properly. 

            So when John is preaching repentance, turning away from sins and being faithful to God, he is bringing the comfort of God.  Because it is only when we recognize that we need to turn back to the Lord, when we recognize the truth, that we can actually start going in the right direction with the help of God, rather than wandering off by ourselves away from the kingdom God has prepared for us, where the fullness of comfort is present. 

            We all need that message that John the Baptist preaches.  We need to hear, time and time again, “Repent!  For the Kingdom of God is at hand!”  We need the truth.  Otherwise we get stuck with the mentality: my sins aren’t that bad!  It’s not like I murdered someone!  It was just a little gossip; I just cheated a little bit; it’s just a little pornography every now and then; I’ll give back the money I took at my next paycheck.  If our mentality, no matter what sins we struggle with, is, “I’m really ok; I’m not that bad,” then we will not receive the comfort that God wants to give us, the comfort of living how God has created us: for Him in love, and with Him eternally in heaven.  If we do not repent, through the sacrament of Reconciliation, then God won’t be able to say to us, “your service is at an end, your guilt is expiated,” because we will have closed ourselves off to the mercy and love that God wants to communicate to us.  Next Sunday, on 11 December, we’ll once again host a Communal Celebration of the Sacrament of Reconciliation with Individual Confessions, with priests from around the Eastern part of Lansing offering you the sacramental grace and peace that comes from hearing the words and knowing the reality: your sins are forgiven; go in peace.  That’s the comfort the Lord wants to give you.  That’s the tenderness that waits for our response.  How will you answer?  Where will you find comfort?

"Wake, O Wake and Sleep No Longer"

First Sunday of Advent

            A week ago today I went on a KAIROS retreat with some of the students from Lansing Catholic as an adult leader, as well as to take some retreat time for myself.  It’s a great retreat, focusing on the love of God, and from my time spent with the students, I know it was very beneficial to them.  I was a little nervous, however, that, in leading the retreat I wouldn’t get time to get spiritually refreshed myself.  How wrong I was!!

            We all need times to refresh, to charge our batteries, to start over anew.  Today marks the beginning of the Advent season, the time of preparation for the coming of Christ.  Besides beginning with the new translations, we are also beginning a new liturgical year, a new year of grace.  While I doubt that anyone stayed up late last night, waiting for midnight and the new liturgical year to come, and we certainly didn’t have a ball of lights at the top of the bell tower, we should be excited about this new liturgical year, because it is another chance for all of us to refocus ourselves on knowing that we are loved by God and loving God in return.  It is a chance for us to make a new liturgical year resolution to grow closer to God, through His Son, Jesus Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit. 

            This is our chance to recognize that, over the past year, we have wandered away from God, and not been as loving and faithful to Him as we should have been.  In our first reading, Isaiah asks why this should be so.  He writes, “You, LORD, are our father, our redeemer you are named forever.  Why do you let us wander, O LORD, from your ways, and harden our hearts so that we fear you not?”  Maybe we have asked this question ourselves after sinning.  Maybe we have wondered why God lets us turn away from Him.  The answer is simple, and yet profound: because God loves us.

            It might seem strange and counterintuitive to think that the reason God allows us to turn away from Him is because He loves us.  But, what is love if it is not free?  We don’t love because we are forced to.  We love because we make a choice to, even when that choice is very difficult.  Real love includes the possibility that the other will not return that love back, with all the pain and heartache that can bring.  But, because there is always the option of not having that love returned, when that love is returned, it makes the recipient even more grateful that the beloved chose to return that love to the lover.  God, as our ultimate lover, allows us the freedom, something only humans have, to say yes or no to Him, to return that love, or hold it back.

            It is that love which increases the anticipation of waiting for the beloved to return.  Now, it’s pretty easy to tell that we’re waiting to celebrate Christmas during this Advent season.  We are preparing our hearts, allowing them to expand with more love, so that we might recall Christ’s birth with even more joy than last year.  You can’t help but notice this, as the Mall fills with holly and ivy, statues of Santa Claus, and nativity scenes.  We are waiting to celebrate Christ’s first coming. 

But we are also waiting for Christ to return again at the end of time, to create a new heaven and a new earth, so that Christ’s victory over sin and death might be manifest, not just in our souls, but in the whole created order, including the natural and supernatural.  That is why, during these first few weeks of Advent, we will hear readings about Christ returning in glory.  That is why we hear today, “‘Be watchful!  Be alert!  You do not know when the time will come.’”  It is not because the Church wants to scare you into doing what’s right.  The end of the world should not be scary for us, unless we are not returning the love that the Father has given us through our words and actions.  The time of Christ’s return in glory should be a time that we anticipate, as much as a child anticipates the celebration of Christmas.  It should excite us because that is the time when Christ, the first love of our hearts, will return to unite His faithful to Himself to be one with Him forever.  The words of a beautiful Advent hymn, “Wake, O Wake, And Sleep No Longer” help us to understand this, as the Church is personified in Zion: “Zion hears the sound of singing; Her heart is thrilled with sudden longing: She stirs, and wakes, and stands prepared.  Christ her friend, and lord, and lover, Her star and sun and strong redeemer—At last his mighty voice is heard.”  Are our hearts filled with sudden longing for Jesus?  Do our ears long to hear His voice?

Advent is the time to start anew in this new liturgical year; to reaffirm our love for Christ.  Will this be just another Advent like so many before, where we are just concerned with getting ready for the parties and the family coming over and buying all the right presents, or will we use this season to renew our love for Christ, and take time for Him as we celebrate with friends, co-workers, and family?  Will our greatest desire be for the newest toys, the newest things, or will it be for Jesus, our friend, and lord, and lover?  “‘May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping.’”  “Wake, O wake, and sleep no longer, For he who calls you is no stranger: Awake, God’s own Jerusalem.”

¡Que viva Cristo Rey!

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King

            American’s seem to have a love/hate relationship with monarchies.  The very founding of our country was based upon the fact that we wanted a republican democracy, where, instead of the King of England, we would elect representatives to enact laws, representatives that we could then vote out of office.  We love our rugged independence, so much so that, in order to prevent even coming close to a monarchy, we only allow our elected presidents to serve two terms.

            On the other hand, the common idea of the “Golden Age” of American, despite all it’s trials and tribulations, was the time of Camelot (a monarchial reference) when we had John F. Kennedy as president, and Jackie as First Lady, whom many considered, and some still consider, America’s royalty.  And how many people stayed up to watch the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton, Duchess of Cambridge last May?  There’s something about royalty that draws us in.

            And so, as we celebrate the Solemnity of our Lord Jesus Christ the King we probably have mixed feelings.  On the one hand, I think we’re still enamored with the idea of a king in royal robes with a stately court.  Some of us love the idea of having a king for whom we can offer our lives.  It’s a very personal way of service.  On the other hand, some of us don’t like to think of Jesus as a king, however benevolent.  We would much rather have democracy, and choice of the people.  Monarchies seem, to these people, to be contrary to the very dignity of the human person.

            The history of this feast probably only further solidifies each camp’s position.  Pope Pius XI created this celebration in his Encyclical Quam primas in 1925, in response to growing trends of nationalism and secularism, reminding Catholics that, while they are legitimately part of a nation, there is a high authority, the King of kings, to whom we owe all our loyalty and fealty.  To be honest, then, there’s bad news for both those who love monarchy, and those who hate it.

            The bad news for those who hate monarchy is that Jesus is a King.  He’s a benevolent King, but He is the King of kings.  We cannot elect Him out of office if we don’t like His policies.  We cannot veto His teachings when they make us uncomfortable or when we dislike them.  We have the choice of accepting His rule over our entire lives: marriage, sexuality, work, charity, liturgy, justice, etc., or rejecting it.  Of course, as our Creator, our King knows what is best for us and what will make us truly happy, so following the decrees of the King is really in our best interest, because our King is not moved by greed, the desire for power or popularity, or any ill will, but rules by love, which is always faithful to the truth.  At the end of our lives, when we are judged, we will be part of a kingdom.  We will either be subjects of Christ the King in Purgatory or Heaven, or we will be subjects of Satan in Hell.  Those are the two options, without middle ground.  So part of us may have to get used to the idea of being in a monarchy.

            For those who love monarchy, the bad news is that our King is not a king like others.  He is indeed seated on a throne, as the Book of Revelation tells us, but, as our readings tell us today, He is a Shepherd-King.  He does not rule with a scepter, but with the shepherd’s staff.  His crown is the crown of thorns, the marks still being born on his body of his love.  All of our readings this year focus on Christ as the Shepherd, and this needs to instruct our understanding of Christ as King.

            In the first reading, the Lord speaks through Ezekiel the prophet saying, “I myself will look after and tend my sheep…I will rescue them from every place where they were scattered when it was cloudy and dark.  I myself will pasture my sheep; I myself will give them rest.”  Our King will seek out the lost sheep, will bring them back, and will heal the sick sheep.  I’m told by sheep farmers that sheep cannot be chased by a shepherd.  They will simply run away, farther from the safety that the shepherd provides.  But sheep can and want to be led.  If the shepherd approaches slowly and leads the flock, they will follow.  The Good Shepherd, as Jesus tells us in the Gospel according to John, lays down his life for His sheep.  Our King, our Shepherd-King, so loves us, his sheep, that when the wolves of sin and death and evil come to attack us, He does battle with them to protect us.  And, having protected us, he gives us rest in green pastures, refreshes our souls, and sets a feast before us so that we only receive goodness and kindness, and dwell in the Lord’s house, the Kingdom of our Shepherd-King.

            But, our shepherd cares for sheep, not goats.  So we have to examine our conscience to see in which group we fall.  Because at the end of time, as we hear in the Gospel, our Shepherd-King will separate the sheep from the goats.  The sheep, those who ministered to Jesus in the least of His brothers and sisters, will go on to eternal reward.  The goats, those who neglected Jesus in the least of His brothers and sisters, will go on to eternal punishment. 

            Whether we like it or not, Jesus is King of the Universe, and all things fall under His rule.  But, our King is not a despot or a tyrant.  He is a Shepherd, who wants to protect us and care for us, leading us to good pasture, if only we will follow Him.  And how we follow Him is made known by the way we live out our faith.  May our lives and our words echo those of the Mexican martyrs who chose to be executed by firing squad rather than deny the authority of Christ over all parts of their lives: ¡Que viva Cristo Rey!  Long live Christ the King!

More Precious than Money

Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

            I could see the gears moving in your heads, gentlemen, as the first reading was read.  I could see the checklist being created for your wife or your girlfriend, as the case may be: “value beyond pearls; unfailing prize; brings good, not evil; works with loving hands; reaches out her hands to the poor; fears the Lord.”  And then we heard in the Psalm, “your wife shall be like a fruitful vine.” 

            If we were listening closely to the other readings, we heard that they are more about the end of the world.  St. Paul warning the Thessalonians not to grow complacent but to remain as “children of the light” the midst of a “corrupt and depraved generation.”  We heard Jesus talking about His return and judging people based upon their talents and how they have used them.  We may be wondering what the first reading has to do with the second and third, if it does at all!

            When we hear the parable of the talents, we probably think about those gifts that God has given us and how we can use them well.  A talent was worth about $1,000, no small sum!  We might thing about our intellectual abilities, our athletic abilities, our friendliness, our cheerful disposition, our ability to work well with others, etc., etc. and how valuable they are and how we should use them for God’s greater glory and for the benefit of our brothers and sisters.  But people, too, are great gifts that God gives to us to help us be holy and to give glory to God.  People, too, are worth so much, much more than even $1,000.  Now, we shouldn’t trade people like the man did in the parable.  But we should recognize how much God, the Master of our lives, has given us in the people He has placed in our lives.  Whether it’s a wife, or a husband, a family member, a neighbor or a friend, a coach, a teacher, or anyone else, those people have helped us to become who we are.

            How many times have we relied upon someone for their generosity, a shoulder to cry on, a hug to comfort, wise words to instruct us?  How many times have we thought to ourselves, “thank God so-and-so was here, or else I don’t think I could have made it through this trial!”?  God entrusts to us people, as he entrusted talents to his servants, some of whom depend on us, others are the ones upon whom we depend.  But they are precious, and when Jesus returns to judge us, He will certainly judge based upon who we have utilized the great gift of caring, wise, and loving people.  As part of our examination of conscience, we can ask ourselves: Do I appreciate my children?  Do I show it?  Do I appreciate my parents, if they are still living?  Do I care for them?  Do I take advice from trusted friends, even when it means a painful change in my life?  Do I learn from those who try to teach me?  Do I thank the people I find invaluable in my life?

            Because so many of the things that we receive are disposable, it can be hard to not let a disposable culture seep into the way we treat people.  There’s always a new technological advance, so we just move on to the newest phone, tablet, computer, TV, appliance, or other material thing.  When it fails to serve us well, we get rid of it.  Sadly, our country tends to treat people the same way.  If a child will be too much of a burden to carry in the womb for 9 months, or if it doesn’t serve the lifestyle that we want, we throw it away.  If seniors are constantly sick and are seemingly contributing nothing to society, we throw them away.

            Rather than looking upon them as burdens, we need to recognize that these are talents that God entrusts to us.  These are the precious items that God wants us to develop and with which we are to grow in relationship.  St. John of the Cross says that at the end of our lives we will be judged on our loves.  Real love is always directed towards a person, and so our judgment will be based upon our treatment of others. 

A week from Thursday we as a nation celebrate Thanksgiving.  And while the word “thanks” is in the name of the day itself, it can be very easy to get caught up with cooking, eating, watching the Lions, eating, doing dishes and cleaning up, eating.  We should remember to give thanks, at our Thanksgiving Day Mass at 9 at St. Thomas, and/or at home with family and friends.  Otherwise we are like the useless servant who didn’t utilize the great wealth the Master had bestowed upon him in giving him that talent, but buried in the field. 

God has blessed our parish and city with so much!  We have a great community of faith; an amazing parish school; wonderful parishioners from infants in the womb to our oldest members; a great university with great men’s and women’s athletics; and so many other ways that are known to you and God alone.  What will be our response to the talents, especially the people, that God has placed in our lives.  Will we bury our talents?  If we do, then at the judgment we will hear, “‘You wicked, lazy servant!  Throw this useless servant into the darkness outside, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.’”  But, if we are grateful for the people in our lives, and capitalize on the blessings that they are to us in so many ways, then, as children of the light, we will hear, “‘Well done, my good and faithful servant.  Come, share your Master’s joy.’”

Role Models

Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

             We all have role models.  We have people that we look up to, who help shape our behavior.  We may not want to be exactly like them, but there’s at least one aspect of their life that inspires us to be a better person.  It may be a coach in athletics; a teacher in school; a family member.  For me, a priest, there are two men who stick out, living right now, that I admire greatly.  There are many people I admire, but the two that always stick out in my mind are Pope Benedict and Archbishop Dolan. 

            Now please, don’t misunderstand me: I do not want to be pope or archbishop of New York.  But I greatly admire Pope Benedict’s humility, his fidelity to the truth, his compassion, and his ability to keep going at 85, when most of his confreres have been retired for quite some time.  In the midst of this, he keeps fulfilling, to the best of his ability, the Petrine ministry entrusted to him.  I hope that I can emulate his humility, fidelity to the truth, compassion, and perseverance.

            I greatly admire Archbishop Dolan’s gregariousness with people, his ability to connect, his ability to preach the Gospel, and not water it down, yet still draw people in.  I admire his sense of humor, and how he can remember both a face and a name of people he has met years ago.  I hope that I can one day grow to communicate the Gospel so clearly and effectively as he does in his homilies, and draw people in to a relationship with Christ.

            Most people have someone who has helped them to grow in their relationship with Christ: whether it was the priest that baptized them, a priest who listened when they were in trouble, or a dynamic preacher.  But it’s not just in religion.  We hold up on a pedestal all those who should be worthy of a greater level of respect, either by office or by personality: athletes, presidents, and movie stars. 

However, when they do not live up to that level of respect, if our life of faith rests on them, then it is easily shaken.  Remember the movie, some may call it a classic now, “Field of Dreams”?  The background of that story was the disappointment of Ray at the alleged throwing of the 1919 World Series by the Chicago Black Sox.  Or think about the respect that is lost by presidents when they go astray.  Or even movie stars who claim to live a good life, and then we find out that they were cheating on their spouse, or living a lie.

            We cannot put our faith in a merely human person.  We cannot rest our faith on a religious leader, no matter how famous and holy.  Humans are too feeble, and right at the edge of sin and scandal.  Our faith must rest in only three Persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  If our faith rests on anything or anyone else, then it will be shaken, because it is not built on a solid foundation.  We have only one teacher, and he is the Christ.

            “‘The scribes and the Pharisees haven taken their seat on the chair of Moses.  Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example.’”  How scandalous this must have sounded to the Jews of Jesus’ day.  The scribes and the Pharisees were the Jewish all-stars.  They helped to interpret the Law to make sure that the people were following God’s will and not sinning.  But, between their teaching and their example, they fell short.  It’s as if Jesus is telling the crowd and disciples to follow their instruction, but to not put their faith in these scribes and Pharisees, because they will fail.  Their actions will betray them.  And in the first reading, God, through Malachi the prophet, chastises the priests for not living up to their vocation, to make the people holy, but instead have fallen into great sin themselves. 

            I do admire Pope Benedict and Archbishop Dolan.  I respect them a great deal and look up to them, especially Pope Benedict as the Vicar of Christ.  But my faith is not in them.  I want to be like them in some ways, but only because they are living examples to me of being like Christ.  Jesus is the only one who is worthy of our faith.  He is the only one who can shoulder that burden.

            In the measure that any leader, religious or secular, lives and preaches the message of Jesus can we look up to them as an example in faith.  This even goes for Fr. Mark, Fr. Joe, Fr. Jake, and myself.  But we cannot be the sole reason for your practice of the faith.  We cannot bear the weight of your complete faith.  We will try to teach you the truth; we will try to be a good example for you; we will do our best to model the life of Christ for you so that you can live it out in your own vocations.  But none of us—no one—is the object of faith except God. 

            We all have people who have shown us what it means to be Catholic.  We all have people, especially the saints, who inspire us to do better, to keep striving for holiness.  We should pray for those who help lead us to faith and are examples of a life in Christ.  But God alone is worthy of our faith, and we want to make sure that our faith is based on Him, so that when disappointments come, whether from religious leaders, athletes, movie stars, or anyone else, they make shake the house of faith that we have built, but they will not destroy it, because our foundation is in Jesus, the rock of faith upon which a sturdy foundation can be built and will survive, no matter what the trials and tribulations.

Marathon Mindset

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Before the beginning of the school year, all the Catholic School teachers from the Diocese of Lansing met at Lansing Catholic for an in-service.  One of the teachers from Queen of the Miraculous Medal parish in Jackson texted me in the middle of the in-service and wrote, “We were just in the gym at Lansing Catholic, and I saw school records in track held by Strouse.  Are those yours?”  I had to reply, “No.  While I did run track, I never broke any school records.  Those are my sisters.” 

            Allison, my youngest sister, graduated from Lansing Catholic in 2006 and holds records in the 200 and 400m dash, and the 400, 800, and 1600m relay.  Amanda, my other sister, also ran track, but really excelled in cross-country.  In fact, one of the awards at Aquinas College is named after her, based upon her skills on the course and in the classroom.  Amanda was always a really good long distance runner, and she just completed her first marathon a few weeks ago in Grand Rapids.  I think she get it from my parents, both of whom ran cross country, and both of whom have run marathons, including Boston.

            Marathon runners have a different way of thinking about things.  They’re in it for the long haul.  They don’t have to accomplish everything in a short period of time.  They have a long ways to run, and they know that if they just keep a good, steady pace, they’ll make it to the end.

            There’s no evidence that the wise virgins were marathon runners, but they certainly had that way of looking at life.  They were most concerned about being ready when the bridegroom was coming.  They knew it wasn’t simply about getting their first.  They had to make sure that they had enough oil to make it to the end.  The foolish virgins, on the other hand, were not thinking about the end, but expected the bridegroom to come shortly. 

            It doesn’t take a Scripture scholar to recognize that this parable is about the return of Jesus at the end of time.  In these last weeks of Ordinary Time we pay particular attention to the end of the world as a reminder that what we have now is not always going to be here.  The world will not continue forever.  Jesus will return to usher in a new heaven and a new earth, where the sinful will go to their eternal punishment of separation from God, as their actions while on earth showed they wanted, while the just will go to their eternal reward of perfect happiness with God in heaven, as their actions while on earth showed their wanted. 

            Recently, there has been no small number of people claiming the world is going to end soon.  It’s as if they forgot to read our second reading today, where St. Paul has to calm the Thessalonians down because they’re worried about the short term: some of their friends and family members have died before Jesus came again, so what’s going to happen to them?  St. Paul takes the “marathon” approach, reminding the people that, although Christ hasn’t yet returned, he will, and those who have fallen asleep in death will be raised first, then we who remain will be caught up with the dead “in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.”  In other words, St. Paul is telling them to be the wise virgins who are keeping oil for their lamps so that, whenever the Divine Bridegroom comes, they will be ready.

            Our Divine Bridegroom, Jesus, is Wisdom incarnate, the Wisdom we heard about in the first reading.  If we love the Lord, then we will receive Him; if we seek Him, then we will find Him.  If we wait for Him at the dawn, then we shall not be disappointed.  Our entire life: marriage, family, work, school, recreation: all of it has to be entered into with the mindset of the wise virgins or the marathon runners.  If we are living life each day in a Christ-centered way, waiting for the return of our Lord and Savior, then the coming of Christ will not shock us, or confuse us, but will be the finish line to the steady pace we’ve been keeping.  It means that we strive, to the best of our ability, to be ready at any moment for the Lord to return and welcome His faithful disciples into his Heavenly Kingdom.

            Otherwise we are like the foolish virgins, the ones who figure, “I’ve got time; I’ll have my fun today, doing whatever I want, and then, when I’m older, I’ll be sorry and change my ways.”  What happens to those people is that the coming of Christ, whether in death or at the second coming, catches them off guard; they are not prepared.  And then they have to go and get more oil for their lamps, and while they are gone, the doors are locked, and, no matter how much we cry to be let in, the Bridegroom will say, “‘Amen I say to you, I do not know you.’”

            Keeping that steady pace means keeping a daily habit of prayer, communication with the Lord Jesus, of brining our faith into all that we do, rather than compartmentalizing our lives into different segments, some of which we use our faith, but others of which are purely secular, where we feel Jesus has no place.  Keeping extra oil means that we live a life of regular repentance through personal acts of penance like giving up certain foods or certain good things, not just in Lent, but each month and each week, to train ourselves to be focused mainly on Jesus.  Being ready for the Bridegroom to come means that we prepare our hearts and souls through the Sacraments to welcome Him who is communicated though the Sacraments.  For, “whoever for [Wisdom’s] sake keeps vigil shall quickly be free from care.”

Saintly Instructors

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Catholics are not generally known for their knowledge of Scripture.  This is particularly sad because the entire New Testament was written by Catholics, guided by the Holy Spirit.  But still, Catholics do not do well in Bible memorization compared with our Protestant brothers and sisters. 

Still, if there’s one passage from Scripture that every Catholic knows, it is certainly the passage from today’s Gospel: “‘You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind…[and] you shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”  Not a bad quote to have memorized, as “‘the whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.’”

But, we have to admit, the Law of Love, as it has come to be known, is pretty broad.  It lacks a certain amount of details.  What if I think that it’s perfectly fine, even if I’m not sick or homebound, to sit in my back yard all day Sunday, admiring God’s beautiful creation, but never going to Mass?  Is that loving God with my whole heart, soul, and mind?  Some would certainly say so, though probably not those who are here, because they’re probably outside, in their back yards, admiring God’s creation instead of coming to Mass.  But who’s to say?  Or what if I think that it’s quite loving to steal a little bit of money on an irregular basis, because I need the money more, and my large company won’t really miss it; they have enough profit without this little bit of cash?  Is that loving my neighbor as myself? 

Certainly, if this were the only thing Jesus had said, then we could rightfully critique his vagueness.  But, of course, we have the rest of Scripture which helps us to know exactly what is the loving thing.  We hear a little bit about that in the Book of Exodus, as God tells us that loving our neighbor means not oppressing the foreigners, widows, or orphans, because their cries to God are precious and are always heard, and God will repay.  We certainly also have the Church, the Body of Christ, which teaches with Jesus’ authority on earth as to what we should or should not be doing, believing, etc.  It is the Church’s particular mission to guide Her children, that is, us, into a life of truth and holiness.  And in order to do this effectively and without error in matters of faith and morals, Christ gives a special charism, a special gift, to His Church, so that she never errs in faith or morals so that we can have a true compass to help us to know what exactly it means to love God and love our neighbor.

But another guide comes from our second reading.  St. Paul states that the Thessalonians became imitators of him and of the Lord.  St. Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians also said, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.”  St. Paul puts himself out there as a model to be followed, because he is modeling his life on Jesus.

We have tons of options for role models today.  We have American Idols, athletes, actors and actresses, musicians, family members, and many others.  And while I would certainly encourage us to learn follow the example of our secular role models when they are worth following (when they are living according to the Gospel), as Catholics we have family members, long since dead in many cases, who say to us by their deeds, if not by their words, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.”

St. Monica & St. Augustine

These role models that we should have, these Catholic ancestors of ours, are the saints.  They are the true role models, the people that we should truly be following.  Many years ago it was “Christian cool” to have a bracelet that said WWJD—What Would Jesus Do?  But, as Catholics, we could have just as easily had bracelets that said WWMD—What Would Mary Do? or WWPD—What Would Peter Do? and those are only two saints.  Each day of the year the Church puts before us a saint: some we celebrate at Mass, others are more local saints and never get big celebrations.  But all of them help us to know what it means to love God and love our neighbor. 

St. Thérèse

      Are you a mother or grandmother whose children have fallen away from the faith and lived not such a holy life?  Look to St. Monica, who won the conversion of her son, St. Augustine, by her tears after Augustine had wondered into just about every main heresy, had a child or two out of wedlock, and was far away from home for a while.  Are you a young man who loves adventure and the outdoors?  Look to Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati, who was secretly very generous to the poor, and who loved to explore God’s beautiful creation (while still attending Mass on Sundays), and whose famous phrase “Verso l’alto” means to climb towards the top, to be the best not only in competition, but especially in love of God and of neighbor.  Are you daddy’s little princess?  Look to St. Thérèse, who was her dad’s princess, and knew that, although she could never do big things in her life, she still wanted to do small things with great love.

Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati

The Church is full of the example of saints who show us in their own circumstances how to love God and love our neighbor, according to their state in life: whether priest, deacon, wife, husband, king, queen, poor person, wild person, religious, child, you name it.  They are models to us of a life of holiness, sometimes after very sinful parts of their life.  The more we read about the lives of the saints, the more we will understand in any given situation what it means to truly love God and truly love our neighbor as ourselves because we will have learned how saints have loved in similar circumstances.  And then, if we love God and love our neighbor, then maybe others, centuries from now, will look to us for help from heaven, to show them what it means to love God with our whole heart, soul, and mind, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.  All holy men and women of God, pray for us!!

We All Scream for Ice Cream!

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            On a warm, fall day, as today will be, there’s nothing quite like getting a little ice cream to cool down; to walk into a parlor and then choose a flavor that will explode in your mouth at the same time that it cools you down.  But then, there’s the real dilemma: what flavor is best?  What flavor do you want today?  Luckily, many places give you a little spoon with a small helping of the different flavors to figure out which one you want.  They give you a little taste.

            What we are engaged in right now is a small plastic spoon of the good things to come.  No, we’re not providing ice cream for you today after Mass.  But our readings all talk about a great feast that is to come.  Isaiah talks about the mountain of the Lord where there will be “a feast of rich food and choice wines, juicy, rich food and pure, choice wines.”  Our Responsorial Psalm mentions how the Lord will “spread the table before me.”  And in our Gospel passage we hear Jesus talking about how God is preparing a wedding feast and inviting people to that feast.  These images of the feast all refer to heaven, the goal for which hopefully we’re all striving.  If we are faithful disciples and live according to God’s law of love of Him above all else and our neighbor as ourselves, than we can look forward to enjoying heaven, as one enjoys a sumptuous feast or a nice, cold, ice cream cold on a hot day.

            But, getting back to what I said earlier, we don’t have to wait until heaven to start to experience this feast.  We get a foretaste of the feast of heaven in the Mass.  Our Mass is that little taste of ice cream that you get to make sure you know what you want.

            Think about the first reading again.  Isaiah first talks about the mountain of the Lord.  A mountain is a high place that is visible for all in the surrounding area to see.  Our churches are usually built at an elevated level, or with high steeples to stand, like a mountain, in the midst of the world.  And even if the exterior structure is not built up for all around to see, as we enter into the Church space, the nave, our eyes should immediately go to a raised area, the sanctuary, which stands in a particular way as the mountain of the Lord, a reminder of the mount of Calvary, where the one perfect sacrifice took place, that same sacrifice which is re-presented for you today.  It is that sacrifice on that mountain, made present once more for us now, that destroys the veil that veils all people and destroys death forever.  This sanctuary is the mountain of the Lord, where God reveals Himself, just as He did on Mount Sinai, as the people gather at its base to worship Him.

            This is also where the Eucharistic Table, the Altar, is prepared.  This is where the best food, the choicest wine, the Eucharist, the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of Jesus Christ is prepared under the appearances of bread and wine.  Christ Himself, through me, His minister, prepares the feast for the People He has won by His Blood and made His own.  He sets the table before us, even though, by our sins, we have made ourselves enemies of God.  Christ receives the bread and wine we offer, simple gifts, really, and changes them so that they are no longer bread and wine, but are substantially changed into His Body and Blood, and not just for this liturgy, but afterwards as well.  This is the feast on the mountain of the Lord.  This is the wedding feast to which we are invited.  In late November, when we start using the spoken words of the new translation, we’ll have the opportunity to see this more clearly.  Because while the priest currently says, “Happy are those who are called to his Supper” as the Body and Blood of Christ are shown to the people, in Advent of this year the priest will say, “Blessed are those who are called to the supper of the Lamb,” an allusion to Revelation 19:9, referring to the wedding feast that the Bridegroom, our Bridegroom, Jesus, has prepared for us, His Church, His Bride.

            Here, in this feast of faith, this Mass, we come together, those of us in humble circumstances, those of us in abundance; those of us are well fed, and those of us who are hungry; and we unite in our worship of God.  We receive the grace to do all things in Christ, who strengthens us, as God supplies our deepest need for His love and His presence among us.

            But, we need to come properly dressed.  And while I do think we can always examine if we’re giving our best to God in terms of what we wear, I’m not talking about exterior clothing.  In baptism, we all heard, even if we don’t remember it, “you have become a new creation, and have clothed yourself in Christ.  See in this white garment the outward sign of your Christian dignity.  With your family and friends to help you by word and example, bring that dignity unstained into the everlasting life of heaven.”  How are we doing at keeping that interior baptismal garment pure white?  Are we helping our family and friends to keep it that way?  Are they helping us to keep it unstained?  That is the proper wedding garment of the elect, those chosen by God.  Just as we wouldn’t show up for a wedding celebration in sweatpants, hair all disheveled, dirt on our face, so we should approach this feast with the interior wedding garment a pure white, a sign of our response to the grace of God and the avoidance of sin.  And if we get a few spots on that garment from sin, we have the great sacrament of reconciliation to wash that garment clean once more in the blood of Christ and to reunite ourselves to His grace.  Between our two sites here, we offer 6 different opportunities for reconciliation, and we priests will gladly set up a different time if none of those times work.

            We have been invited to the mountain of the Lord, to the feast of heaven in this Mass.  May we keep our baptismal garments clean for the wedding feast of the Lamb, so that we might be invited in.  Blessed are those who are called to the supper of the Lamb.

You're Sick

Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Context helps us to understand the meaning of a situation that could be interpreted in a number of ways.  For example: if I were to say, “You’re sick” to a person who has a runny nose, cough, and looks exhausted, I mean that the person should get some rest because he or she has an illness.  If I were to say those same two words, “You’re sick” to a person who eats rotten cheese, I mean that the person has some disgusting habits.  If I say, “You’re sick” to a football player who just returned a punt for a touchdown, I mean that the person is amazing.  Without the context, “You’re sick” can mean a number of different things. 

            We need some context to understand today’s Gospel passage better.  The parable is not too mysterious.  And yet, as we know the context, we understand it better.  A first bit of context comes from when this parable is told.  Earlier in this same chapter 21, Jesus arrived triumphantly into Jerusalem, receiving the messianic shouts of “‘Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest’”, similar words to those we sing to usher in the Eucharistic prayer.  Earlier in this same chapter, Jesus cleanses the temple by throwing out those who were selling animals and exchanging money and says that those who are engaging in such things are making the house of God a “‘den of thieves’”, quoting both Isaiah and Jeremiah.  The Pharisees have questioned Jesus’ authority to do all of this, and Jesus asks them about John the Baptist’s authority, which silences the chief priests and the elders.  And now we come to this parable. 

            Another important part of the context is actually supplied by our first reading.  Jesus’ parable of the vineyard mirrors the same parable that Isaiah gave to the people of Jerusalem and Judah.  In that parable, God accuses the people of not taking care of the vineyard He has entrusted to their care.  This vineyard is the faith God had given to Judah.  God cleared the vineyard (the land flowing with milk and honey) of the stones (the foreign nations), planted the choicest vines (the good seed of the Word of God), built watchtowers (the judges and prophets) so that he could harvest good grapes (the results of the faith of the people).  But instead he received wild grapes (infidelity, idolatry, injustice), or, as the Hebrew word might more closely be translated, rotten grapes.

            Jesus takes the parable, familiar to the crowd, and twists the message a little.  He still talks about how God has been so good to Israel by giving it a land flowing with milk and honey, clearing out the foreign nations, and giving them the Word of God, especially through the prophets.  But God also sends servants (prophets) like John the Baptist who are to make sure that only the good grapes grow.  These servants are beaten and killed by the tenants of the vineyard.  So the landowner sends his son to them, thinking, “‘They will respect my son’”, but even the son is killed by the tenants.  When Jesus asks the chief priests and the elders (the tenants) what should be done, they advocate putting those “‘wretched men to a wretched death’” and giving the vineyard to new tenants.  While Jesus does not put those chief priests and elders to death, because His mercy is much more expansive than human mercy, he prophesies giving the vineyard into the hands of the Gentiles, who will produce good grapes at the proper time.

            The question for us is whether or not we are good tenants, good stewards of what God has given to us.  Have we produced good grapes which yield good wine, or have we produced wild, rotten grapes which are good for nothing?  The question of our stewardship is an important one. 

            At this point, maybe you’re thinking to yourself, “Stewardship.  Great!  Father’s going to ask us to give more money.”  And certainly, I would not refuse your generosity to the parish.  Catholics, on average, give only about 1-2% of their yearly income to the Church.  But stewardship is not just about money.  We usually use three Ts to talk about stewardship: time, talent, and treasure.  Notice that treasure is at the end.

            God gives us so many gifts, more than we deserve.  He gives our faith and salvation through Jesus.  He gives us talents that help us to praise His glory, find employment, and assist others.  He gives many of us good salaries, even in these difficult economic times.  We deserve none of it.  And yet God gives us His good gifts anyway.  If we are grateful for those gifts, then we should thank Him, not only by our words, but also by our actions.  Otherwise we are ungrateful for the gifts, and produce rotten grapes. 

            Stewardship is a way of life.  It is a response to the generosity of God.  If we are generous with our time then we’re not simply punching the clock at Sunday Mass, hoping for a short homily so we don’t have to spend more than 60 minutes in the Church, but try to focus time each day on our relationship with God, the most important relationship we have.  If we are generous with our talents then we take stock of the many ways in which we can build up our community for good by using those skills that God has blessed us with to preach the Good News, to help others in need, to spend time volunteering for the Church.  And yes, if we are generous with our treasures, then we do take stock of how much we’re donating to the Church.  I am overwhelmed by the generosity of some of our members who contribute large percentages of their income for the good of this Catholic community.  For you students, that may mean putting in a dollar or two or five each week.  For others it means giving more.  But the point is good stewardship, not a dollar amount.

            The Diocese of Wichita in Kansas is usually held up as a model for stewardship.  Their local church is invested in using well the time, talents, and treasure that God has given to them.  Because of this, their participation is up in parishes, and Catholic schools are free to any registered Catholic in the diocese.  When we are good stewards, the impossible becomes reality.  Let’s rise to the challenge to produce good grapes and be good stewards of the many gifts God has given to us.  Let’s be the good tenants to whom God can entrust his vineyard.