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.

How Can I Be More like Jesus?

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            How can I be more like Jesus?  It’s a pretty straightforward question, and one that hopefully we are asking ourselves at least each week, if not every day.  How can I be more like Jesus?  When we talk about becoming more like Christ, we are talking about acting more like Christ in the way we respond to others.  To paraphrase St. Paul from our second reading, we are talking about having the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.

            The sacred authors present two main virtues that we can work on, with the necessary help of God’s grace, that will make us more like Christ: humility and obedience.  Humility is a tough word.  Many of us tend to think of humility as denying gifts that we have, or at least playing them down.  But this is not the humility of Jesus, and it is not truly humility.  Humility is the recognition of the truth before God.  Of course, before God we have to admit our total poverty.  By that I mean that everything we have is a gift from God, and if it weren’t for God, we would have nothing, not even existence.  But we also stand before the Father as beloved sons and daughters in the Son of God.  We are the only creation on earth that God willed for its own sake as the Vatican II document Gaudium et spes states.  No plants, no animals, not even pets, exist in such a way. 

            But what we see in Jesus is that humility is the gift of the entire self to the Father and trusting in Him to return that back in full.  In Greek the word is kenosis, or self-emptying.  We see it in Jesus as the one who, “though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.  Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness…becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”  Jesus does not deny that He is divine.  In fact, He asserts it all throughout Scripture, which is why Jesus was condemned for blasphemy.  But he does not cling to His divinity.  He gives all that He is to the Father, who does not abandon Him to the power of death, but “greatly [exalts] him and [bestows] on him the name above every name.” 

            In the Gospel passage today, Jesus extols the virtue of obedience.  Obedience is a virtue that many consider a vice today.  We want control.  We want to be independent.  We want to be self-governing.  We want to be our own masters and have no one over us.  Perhaps we even come close (though we would never admit it) to the words that Milton puts on Satan’s lips: “Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven,” so keen are we to be in charge.  But Christ sets before us obedience as virtue.  He doesn’t eliminate our ability to freely choose, but puts forward that the right thing to do is to use that freedom to obey our Father, who calls us to work in His vineyard.  Even if we don’t respond positively at first, like the first son, who at first is disobedient, we can still use our free will to choose obedience.  And Jesus tells us that obedience is one of the ways that we prepare ourselves for heaven, where this is no democracy, no voting on which values to promote or which goods to pursue, but where we are all subjects of God who is King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  In fact, if we are being humble, then part of pouring ourselves out to the Father is even pouring out our free will so that it can be used by the Father for good.  Obedience is almost a corollary of humility.

            How do we see humility and obedience in action?  We see kenosis in a unique way in marriage, though everyone is called to self-emptying.  We see kenosis in the love that a man pours out on his wife, that the wife freely receives, and that the wife pours out on her husband, and that he fully receives.  We see kenosis in the many sacrifices that a married couple makes for each other: from something as simple as putting the toilet seat down, to the great sacrifice of giving up one’s physical life in order to protect the spouse, and many ways in-between those two extremes.  We see kenosis in the many ways that a man and woman have to give up their own preferences, their own desires, for the good of the couple, who are no longer two, but one flesh.  We see it in the many sacrifices parents make for their children, the fruit of that one-flesh union.    And even outside of marriage in the many ways that people sacrifice to help family members, friends, neighbors, and sometimes even strangers.  And while we might be afraid to pour ourselves out for another, we see that Jesus, who poured our even His very life for His spouse, the Church, lost nothing of who He is, but gained everything because of the great trust He had in His Father.

            Obedience in a Catholic context is often associated with priests and religious because priests make a promise of obedience to the bishop, and religious make vows of obedience to their superiors.  But often, obedience has the connotation of a tyrant lording it over another.  In my experience of obedience, that is farthest from the truth.  Obedience is communicating between the superior and the inferior.  I tell the bishop what I believe to be important: what gifts God has given me, where I would like to serve, what responsibilities I would enjoy having.  He listens to those and takes them to heart.  And then he decides, for example, where I am assigned, based upon his understanding of the needs of the parish and the diocese.  And in trust and filial love, I respond with the free and full assent of my will.  That obedience gave me that great blessing of being sent here to serve.  That relationship between a priest and his bishop is also meant to inform the relationship between each layperson and God, and the legitimate authorities that God has established in His Church.  Communication is part of obedience; it is part of kenosis, the self-emptying, from which obedience comes.  But once the time to give our own thoughts has passed, it means freely choosing the will of God over our own wills, using our freedom to obey.  And in that obedience, we find true happiness, because God has created us for obedience.

            It is difficult to be like Christ.  It is difficult, at times, to be humble, to pour ourselves out totally to the Father, abandoning ourselves entirely to His will.  It is difficult, at times, to be obedient, to use our God-given freedom to freely subject ourselves to the will of God.  Our temptation, the result of original sin, is always to cling for dear life to our own will and our own good.  But what we see in Christ is that true happiness and glorification are the fruits of true humility and obedience.  And the more we become like Christ, humble and obedient, the more God sees in us the image of His Beloved Son.  Pour yourself out to God; you will not be lacking anything but will instead gain everything.  Freely choose to serve God; your freedom will not be limited, but will instead flower into the freedom to choose what is good and right.

The Real Lesson of 9/11: Forgiveness

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            There are times in each of our lives, I believe, when God confirms in a very real way that He is in charge.  These are the moments when, without our planning, everything falls into place and a great blessing is bestowed or a great lesson is learned.  In these moments we experience wonder and awe in the presence of God who is the Lord of all History, to Whom all time belongs.

            Ten years ago, our country was attacked in a horrible way.  Innocent civilians lost their lives because of terrorists who chose hatred and death.  In those moments, it was very easy to wonder where God was.  As a senior in high school, and likely for many of you, for me it was a time of real fear at the evil that was unleashed by sinful men.

            And yet, here we are today, with readings that were chosen in the 1970s for the twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, chosen by men, guided by the Hand of God, about forgiveness.  There was no way that those men could have known what was going to happen on September 11, 2001.  There was no way for them to know that ten years after that event, September 11 would fall on a Sunday, the twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time.  And yet, here we are, with God confirming in a very real way in our midst the lesson of forgiveness that He wants us to embrace on the anniversary of a day that we as a country were sinned against.  We should have wonder and awe in the presence of God that all of these variables lined up just so.  As Pope Bl. John Paul II said, in Divine Providence, there are no such things as coincidence.

            Our lesson on forgiveness from the Divine Teacher begins with the first reading: “Wrath and anger are hateful things, yet the sinner hugs them tight.  The vengeful will suffer the LORD’s vengeance, for he remembers their sins in detail.  Forgive your neighbor’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven.  Could anyone nourish anger against another and expect healing from the LORD?  Could anyone refuse mercy to another like himself, can he seek pardon for his own sins?”  The words from the Book of Sirach are very challenging, but they are truth.  As the Letter to the Hebrews says, “The word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword…able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart.”  Where are we in forgiving those who attacked us ten years ago?  Where are we in forgiving those who have hurt us since then, not only terrorists, but also neighbors, family, friends, co-workers?  “But Father, you don’t understand what they did!  I just cannot forgive them!  The pain they caused is too great!!”  Forgiveness is certainly difficult, especially when the offense comes from someone who is close to us.  And yet, we hear God in His inspired word saying that if we are holding on to wrath and anger, than we can count ourselves among the sinful.  If we do not forgive others, we will not be forgiven by God.  As Jesus says, “the measure which we measure out to others will in turned be measured out to us.”  The level at which we forgive is the level at which we can hope to be forgiven.  If we cannot forgive, then neither can we hope to be forgiven.

            Now, to be clear, forgiveness does not mean being a doormat.  Forgiveness does not mean ignoring past actions.  It does not mean that we do not guard our nation carefully.  It does not mean that we forgo screenings at airports.  It does not mean that we blithely trust someone who has betrayed our trust, especially in a major way.  But it does mean that we pray that God will extend His mercy towards them, and heal them of the evil that has grown in their heart, and that they will convert and be blessed by God with His love. 

            It is easy to hold on to hatred.  It is easy to carry a grudge.  It takes almost no effort at all.  The hatred and the wrath seem to bubble up naturally.  It takes real power, though, to forgive.  It takes real strength to be the bigger man, the bigger woman, to not hold on to past offenses.  When we see a person who has been wronged hating another, it almost seems commonplace.  When we see a person who has been wronged forgiving another, we are moved by that person’s soul.  Think of a mother who has lost her child to murder.  It is not newsworthy when she spews out more hatred toward the murderer.  It is newsworthy when that mother, in the midst of her real pain and sorrow, has the strength of soul to say to that murderer, “I forgive you.”  Does the murderer still go to jail?  Certainly.  But the mother is no longer imprisoned by her hatred, but has been set free by forgiveness.

            How many times do we forgive terrorists?  How many times do we forgive a spouse who has betrayed the spousal trust?  How many times do we forgive a friend who hurt us?  How many times do we forgive the stranger who changed the lives of so many by acts of violence and hatred?  Jesus tells us that we forgive them always, so that when we need forgiveness, maybe in small ways, maybe in big ways, our hearts are prepared to receive the forgiveness of God.  If we do not forgive, then our hearts are not open to receive the forgiveness that God wants to bestow upon us.

            “But what about justice, Father?  What about paying the price for your crimes?”  If you insist on justice, then let me lead you to the cross.  Let me lead you to Calvary, because that is where justice leads.  That is where justice led Jesus, who suffered for us, innocent as He was, so that we could have eternal life.  That is where He who shared our human nature died, fulfilling the justice that original sin required, so that we who share that human nature with Jesus could also rise with Him to glory.  We should be careful about insisting on justice, or asking that the “fires of [God’s] justice burn,” because we might just receive that justice, and the wages of sin is death, as St. Paul says.  Justice for sins brings death.  Forgiveness and love bring life.

Fr. Mychal Judge being carried out
by NY Emergency Personnel after the
South Tower collapsed

            What we saw on September 11, ten years ago, was that hatred only brings destruction and death.  Hatred led those terrorists to end the lives of so many innocent people in the World Trade Center buildings, at the Pentagon, and on United Flight 93.  Love, which is at the root of forgiveness, led Fr. Mychal Judge to care for the souls of those who were in the Twin Towers and to pray for them even as the South Tower collapsed.  Love led the many heroes of the police and fire department personnel to risk their lives to try to save others who were in and around the Twin Towers.  Love won that day.  Love builds us up to be more human, to be more in the image and likeness of God. 

We mourn those who lost their lives that fateful day.  We protect ourselves now from future attacks.  In the midst of it all, we pray for forgiveness.  “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”  Amen.

Awkward Moments

Twenty-third Sunday of Ordinary Time

            There are many awkward moments in life: moments when you realize your shirt is inside out…and backwards; moments when you start laughing at something which everyone else considers quite serious; moments when you’re at your friend’s house and your friend gets yelled at by his mom and/or dad; moments when someone says something embarrassing about you at work.  These are not fun moments to be in.  Perhaps another awkward moment is having to correct someone, especially someone to whom you’re close.

            And yet, both our first reading and Gospel give us a handbook of what to do when we see our brother or sister doing wrong, especially to us.  In the first reading, God is telling the prophet Ezekiel what the expectations are for being a prophet.  Ezekiel is to tell the wicked when they’re doing wrong.  Otherwise, not only the wicked person will die for his sins, but also Ezekiel will be responsible for his death because he did not warn the wicked person.  Some of us might be thinking right now, ‘Phew!  It’s tough being a prophet!  I’m glad I don’t have that responsibility!!’  But, the reality is that we are all called to be prophets, that is, those who speak for God in the world.  ‘I never signed up for this!’ you might be saying.  But, just as you and your parents and godparents heard at your baptism, you were anointed with sacred Chrism and joined, in your own way, into the prophetic office of Jesus Christ.  We are all called to speak for God.  Of course, we better make sure that we know that it’s God’s message that we are spreading, not our own.  But we are all prophets because of our baptism.

            This is the point where well-meaning pious people say, “But Jesus said not to judge!”  And that’s true.  Jesus said, “‘Judge not, lest you be judged.’”  But what the Church has understood that to mean is that we cannot judge motives for actions.  But we can judge actions themselves.  Otherwise why would Jesus have given St. Peter and the apostles the power to bind and loose on earth?  We can tell people that they’re doing wrong, and, in fact, as we hear from the prophet Ezekiel, we have a duty to do so.  But we can’t say that they’re horrible, rotten people, or that they are fully culpable for what they do.  Only God judges motives and guilt of conscience, not us.

            Of course, as St. Paul reminds us, love is the fulfillment of the law.  And so, even when we’re correcting others, we must do so out of charity.  Tattling, where we just get someone in trouble because we don’t like them, or without any real concern for their conversion, is not responding to the duty that we have as prophets of God.  It’s simply being petty. 

            Luckily, Jesus gives us some parameters to make sure that our correction of each other is connected with charity.  He tells us to first talk to the person who has sinned against us if we have a problem with them.  Don’t tell your friends, your family, strangers, or anyone else until you have talked to that person who wronged you, and let them know that they have wronged you and that you are concerned that their action doesn’t reflect Jesus’ teachings.  Of course, and this bears repeating, this has to be done in charity, in love.  A lot of times when we are wronged, we get angry (the soul’s response to justice), but we tend to go overboard in responding to that injustice.  So it’s often better to cool down a bit first, whenever possible.  But go to that person first. 

            Then, if he or she will not listen to you, involve some others, maybe others who were present to see the fault take place, or who know well the person who sinned against you.  And let them hear your complaint to the person.  Sometimes it takes hearing something from a few people to realize that it is truly a problem.  And, those who are not directly connected can sometimes have a better perspective because they’re not involved in the same way.

            Then, and only then, do the authorities and the Church, get involved.  Only when the person who sinned is so obstinate that he or she will not listen to reason does the offense become pretty public.  Only then do you call in those who have authority over those who, in the faith, are equals.  And if they don’t listen to the Church, then all that is left is to pray for their conversion (which should be happening all along as a sign that the correction is based in love, not vengeance).

            Of course, to correct someone, we have to believe that there are things that are wrong, and not just the major things: murder, adultery, stealing, and perjury.  We live in a very relativistic culture which basically holds, “if you’re ok, I’m ok” as a way of operating.  We don’t like to challenge people to live holy lives because it’s awkward.  And it’s especially awkward because we are likely afraid that if we tell someone else that they are not living a holy life, then they might respond in the same way with us.  And who likes to be told to change?  No one.  And yet, Jesus didn’t come saying, “You’re all basically good people, so just keep up the good work, and maybe tweak it a little.”  Instead, he said, “‘Repent!  For the Kingdom of heaven is near!’”  He challenged people to a life of radical trust in God, radical following of the law of love, even if it means laying down your own life, and thus radical holiness. 

            Whether we like it or not, if we are baptized God has called us to be prophets, to speak for him to His people, each according to our level of responsibility.  Do not be afraid to speak the truth in love, even when it’s awkward, even when it means correcting someone.  Do not be afraid to challenge others, and be challenged ourselves, to live lives of radical holiness.  This is our vocation as prophets.  This is what it means to be a disciple of Christ.

Marketing 101

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

            After today’s Gospel, we might be thinking, ‘Jesus should have taken a marketing class!’  Telling people, “‘Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me,’” is a great way to have no followers.  He should have minimized the trials and emphasized the joys, to the effect of, “Yes, there may be some sufferings, but then you’ll never have to worry about anything!!  You’ll get a glorified body, be able to rejoice at the big celebration in heaven, and it will never end!!”  Instead, the “payoff” if you will, is only at the end: “‘For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay all according to their conduct.’”

            Jesus clearly is not trying to sell us the new fad.  The life of His disciples, the life of those in the Church, is to be centered on the cross.  It’s surprising that any disciples continued to follow Jesus.  But Jesus doesn’t change his “ad.”  He doesn’t tone it down, or repackage his message to make it more appealing.  Jesus, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, sets before those who come to Him, the Way of the Cross, the Truth of suffering, and the Life that is possible only after passing through death.

            We generally hate suffering.  It is repulsive to our very nature.  Why should I have to go through pain?  I want to avoid, not embrace, suffering!  We’d rather not have to eat our vegetables to have dessert when we’re young.  We’d rather not have to go to practice and work out in order to play sports, or be in band or drama.  We’d rather not have to work hard to be able to earn a good grade in class or go on vacation from our jobs.  We’d rather not have to endure some illness or disease.  Just last week, as my great-aunt was dying, my family asked me why the woman we all loved had to endure so much pain?  Why would God allow this?

            In the midst of the problem of suffering, it would be great if the Church had a quick answer that perfectly responded to the problem and that would solve it.  It would be easy to think, ‘if I just lived perfectly, maybe I wouldn’t have to suffer.’  But that’s not the case.  Look at the Blessed Mother: what suffering she endured watching her Son die on the cross, innocent as He was.  Look at Jesus, the Beloved Son of God the Father, Who was perfect in His humanity and divinity, Who, nevertheless, was scourged, crowned with thorns, mocked, and executed in an extremely painful way.  Those who lived perfectly still had to suffer.  Yes, suffering increases in relation to our sinfulness.  But even the sinless suffer.  Even Jesus had to unite His will always to the Father’s, and take up His cross.

            In the midst of the question of suffering, the Church responds that suffering is not good in and of itself; it is something that should repulse us.  And yet, it is suffering that saves us.  Jesus’ suffering on the cross brought life, not only to Him who was raised on the third day, but also to us who were united to Him in His death, so that we can also be united to Him in His resurrection.  Our suffering can save us, and save those we love. 

            Last week we celebrated the memorial of St. Rose of Lima, the first saint of the Americas.  In the Office of Readings from the Liturgy of the Hours, St. Rose wrote, “Our Lord and Savior lifted up his voice and said…‘Let all men know that grace comes after tribulation…This is the only true stairway to paradise, and without the cross they can find no road to climb to heaven.’”  In this vision that St. Rose had, Jesus reaffirmed the words of today’s Gospel.  Now, this is not to say to Jesus enjoys watching us suffer, like some sadist.  But, it is only by dying to ourselves, and uniting that death with Jesus on the cross that we are able to share in the resurrection.  New life can only take place after death.  The new flower can only come after the seed dies.  The old saying, “offer it up!” was not just something the nuns said to keep children in line, or that parents said to stop the kids from whining.  It is a great truth that when we unite our small and large sufferings with Jesus on the cross, that suffering becomes not just a burden and meaningless, but something which can bring joy and peace to ourselves and to others.

            And the great news is that we do not suffer alone.  When we unite our suffering with Jesus, we also invite Jesus, and all the angels and saints, into our own passion, just as they were present at the Passion of Our Lord.  And we know how much easier suffering can be when we are united with others.  If a person gets hurt, it helps to have someone be with you until the injury can be dealt with.  If a person loses a job, it helps to have someone, not just to commiserate with, but to truly guide us through the trial.  And when we suffer and unite our sufferings with Jesus, we know that we are never alone.

            The challenge for us is to make that conscious choice to offer our sufferings with Jesus.  St. Paul tells us to “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God.”  What does this mean?  It means that, as we come to this Mass, we unite all those sufferings we have experienced in the past week with the host that is on the altar, which is the sacramental re-presentation of Jesus on the cross.  If we lost a sports game, we unite that pain to Jesus; if we got hurt or are going through a serious illness, we unite that suffering and frustration to Jesus; if we’re not doing well in school, or are nervous about a new school year, we unite that anxiety to Jesus; if we have lost our job and don’t know how we’re going to make ends meet, we unite that uncertainty to Jesus.  People say that things are bad right now: unemployment, wars, natural disasters, uncertainty, etc.  These are not good things.  But they can be great opportunities for deeper prayer, and real growth in grace by uniting ourselves to Jesus on the cross.  If we truly wish to be a disciple of Jesus, we must deny ourselves, take up our crosses, big and small, and follow Jesus.  “‘For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay all according to their conduct.’”

Truth Is

Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Our first reading and Gospel focus on keys: the keys of the house of David and the keys of the kingdom of heaven.  We’re no strangers to the power of keys.  Just imagine (or remember, depending on the person) the terror that enters a person’s heart when he or she suddenly realizes that the keys are locked in the house, or the car, or are lost somewhere.  Or think about the real pain that is caused when a parent tells the teen that the privilege of having keys to the car is gone as a punishment for some bad behavior, or, when the tables are turned, when a child has to tell their parents that they no longer have the privilege of the keys and that they can no longer drive out of a concern of safety for the parents and for others. 

But keys are not simply taken away.  When keys are given, it’s a great experience of freedom.  Think about the joy that you had, or that your kids have, when you first get the keys to the car after you’ve gone through driver’s ed.  Think about the joy that comes when you’ve gone through what seems like a mountain of paperwork and you are finally handed the keys to your new home.  Keys can be a very uplifting aspect of our lives, not just a negative one.

In the first reading, we do get a more negative sense of the keys, because they are being taken away from Shebna, the master of the palace.  Earlier in this same chapter, the Lord condemns Shebna with being more concerned with monuments to his glory than with God’s own people.  And so God speaks through Isaiah to say, “‘I will place the key of the House of David on Eliakim’s shoulder; when he opens, no one shall shut; when he shuts, no one shall open.’”  Eliakim becomes the new bearer of authority and power, because he has the keys to the House of David, the royal house.  Eliakim, and no longer Shebna, gets to decide who can enter the House of David, and who will remain outside.  He is the gatekeeper, now, to Shebna’s shame.  Shebna is like the young driver that just lost his driving privileges.

Statue of St. Peter near the
Sea of Galillee

In our Gospel, though, St. Peter is given the keys, which are not taken from another, but are given freely as a gift.  And this gift comes as a reward for the faith that Peter exhibits at this moment (although at others he doesn’t show such a great faith).  Jesus asks the disciples who others think He is.  It’s almost as if Jesus is posting, “Truth is…” to his disciples, except that Jesus wants to know what others think about Him, rather that posting what He thinks about others.  And when Peter, by the grace of God, is able to say the words, “‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God,’” Jesus responds to those words with even more powerful words, words that ring the interior base of the Basilica of St. Peter in Rome: “‘You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.’” 

We lose the connection that existed in the original Aramaic that Jesus spoke, but which is still communicated in the Greek (in which the Gospel according to St. Matthew was first written) or even the Latin, which was copied by St. Jerome from the Greek.  In Latin we would hear, “Tu es Petrus et super hanc petram…”  We hear more clearly that our Lord, who gives Simon the new name of Peter, meaning a new identity that he has, just like Jacob was renamed Israel by God in the Old Testament, makes Peter the rock upon whom the Church is built.  Peter gains the special ministry to act not only in the person of Christ, but as Christ’s vicar on earth.  Peter is the Rock.  Petrus est petram. 

And while all the apostles, in the twentieth chapter of the Gospel of John, will receive the power to forgive sins through the words, “‘Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven,’” Jesus says to Peter alone, “I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.’”  This unique authority is given to St. Peter alone, and is part of the basis for the Catholic teaching on the unique role of the Pope as Head of the Apostolic College (the bishops united as one), just as Peter is the Prince of the Apostles. 

This power and authority, really a service to the unity of the disciples of Christ, continues today through the Petrine Ministry of the pope.  The Pope, as successor of St. Peter, continues to hold the keys, allowing him, either by himself, or as the head of the college of bishops, to guide all of us in knowing how the teachings of Christ apply to today’s situations, letting some things in, and keeping others out.  Some may not like that the pope, as successor of St. Peter, has the power of the keys, but they’re not our keys!  The keys belong to Christ, and He bestowed them on Peter; not because he was the bravest, or the wisest, or the holiest.  But, Jesus knew that Peter was the one to receive them according to the plan of God.  The great news is that, if we stick with St. Peter and his successor, then we’re sticking with the guy who has the keys into the house that Jesus promised he had prepared for us, just like when we are young, if we stick with our parents, we’ll always be able to get into our house.

Pope Benedict XVI at the Mass of the Rings

More often than not we hear people nay-saying the pope.  Someone always has some kind of complaint about this or that homily, this or that teaching, what he wears, how he celebrates Mass, etc., etc.  Today I want to be clear to you: I love the pope.  I thank God now for Pope Benedict XVI, just as I thanked God years ago for Pope Bl. John Paul II.  I thank God for the pope’s leadership, his teachings, and all that he has done to guide the Church to further holiness, while he himself strives to be a saint.  I hope that you, too, will join me in praying for our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, as he fulfills his Petrine Ministry, and show your love and support for him, especially when he is under baseless attacks from others that we know.  Is Pope Benedict perfect?  Certainly not.  Neither was St. Peter.  Pope Benedict is, however, striving for perfection just like you and me.  But he’s our pope who has been given a special mission by Jesus to guide the Church into greater holiness.  And, after all, he has the keys!

Where No Christian Man Has Gone Before

Vigil of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

            I sometimes hear from people that the Catholic Church is a “men only” club.  Sure women attend (and are often more faithful than their male counterparts!) but only men can be deacons, priests, and bishops, many of the major saints are men, etc., etc.  This solemnity stands in direct contradiction to that vision of the Church.  It is a denial of that point of view at its root.  No other Christian man in the history of the Church has received so great an honor as the one we celebrate tonight.  And what we celebrate is that Mary, at the end of her life, was assumed, body and soul, into heaven.  She is the only Christian person to receive that honor. 

Painting of the Assumption from the
Orthodox Church of the Dormition

            What makes the Blessed Mother worthy of this unique privilege?  Was it simply the fact that Mary carried Jesus in her womb and nursed him?  In our Gospel, Jesus takes the usual Jewish thought of blessing being connected with the generation of children, and modifies it so that the truly blessed ones are those “‘who hear the word of God and observe it.’”  And who has done this better than the Blessed Virgin Mary?  Mary heard the word of God through the Archangel Gabriel telling her that she would be the Mother of God.  But, while she wondered how this could happen, since she did not know man, she did not doubt the angel, but said with that great act of faith, “Let it be done to me according to your word.”  Because Christ is the Incarnate Word of God, every time Mary, along with St. Joseph, cared for Jesus: feeding him, teaching Him to walk, teaching Him to talk, and all the work of raising a child, she was being attentive to the Word of God in a way no other person could. 

            But the fact that Mary carried Jesus in her womb was also a special privilege that prepared her for the privilege of the Assumption.  In our first reading we heard about the preparation of the Ark of the Covenant made by David.  The Ark of God was the place where God dwelt with humanity in a special way, and so it was treated with great honor and joy.  At the moment of the Incarnation, when Jesus was conceived in the womb of the Blessed Mother by the power of the Holy Spirit, she became the new Ark of God, the Ark of the New and Everlasting Covenant because she carried within herself God Himself.  Because of this previous honor, she who carried within her he Whom the universe cannot contain, the Source of Life Himself, it was most fitting that she should not taste death, but be preserved from it by her Son who gained for her the blessing of the Resurrection, not only of the soul, but also of the body. 

            But there the other mysteries of Mary’s life are also connected to this great privilege.  On November 1, 1950, in the Papal Bull Munificentissimus Deus, the document which solemnly defined the Assumption as belonging to the Deposit of the Faith, and therefore which must be believed by all the faithful, Pope Pius XII recalled how all the mysteries of Mary’s life are connected to this celebration.  He cites the Byzantine Divine Liturgy which, when celebrating this day, states, “‘God, the King of the universe, has granted you favors that surpass nature.  As he kept you a virgin in childbirth, thus he has kept your body incorrupt in the tomb and has glorified it by his divine act of transferring it from the tomb.’”  The privilege of Mary’s Virginal Motherhood is connected to this day.  So, too, is Mary’s Immaculate Conception, that she was conceived in the womb of St. Anne, without the taint of original sin touching her soul.  Pope Pius XII writes, “[Mary], by an entirely unique privilege, completely overcame sin by her Immaculate Conception, and as a result she was not subject to the law of remaining in the corruption of the grave, and she did not have to wait until the end of time for the redemption of her body.”  Even Mary’s Immaculate Conception prepares her for this day that we celebrate, when she did not undergo corruption, but already enjoys the full joys of heaven, body and soul.

            There is no male human person who shares the same honors that we give to a woman, the Blessed Virgin Mary.  There is no male person celebrated as much as we celebrate Mary, not even St. Peter or St. Paul.  Because of her Immaculate Conception, Virginal Motherhood, unique care for and adherence to Jesus as a perfect disciple, and her Assumption, no other human person can claim such honors.  We are a Church who celebrates only one human person who on earth lived perfectly, and that human person is a woman.  Mary is the glory of Jerusalem.  Mary is the fairest honor of our race.

            While women have often been the most faithful members of the Church, by the will of God only men can become deacons, priests, and bishops and share in the ordained ministry of Jesus Christ.  But, this is certainly not because men are better than women, smarter than women, or holier than women.  This celebration of the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary reminds all of us, men and women, that our salvation was made possible by a woman, and that the holiest human person we have is a woman.  But she is for all of us, men and women, an example to strive to follow in her obedience and love of Christ, so that one day, after our deaths and the resurrection of our bodies, we, too might be able to share in the joys of heaven, body and soul, and Mary currently does.