St. Peter: An Icon of Hope

Solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul

St. Peter

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  Today we have one my favorite liturgical celebrations.  It helps that I have seen the Papal Basilica of St. Peter in Rome, and the amazing, giant letters of the Gospel that we heard today (in Latin): TU ES PETRUS AND SUPER HANC PETRAM AEDIFICABO ECCLESIAM MEAM.  It helps that I have been to the Holy Land and visited the Church of the Primacy of Peter, which commemorates another Petrine dialogue with Jesus on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.  But mostly I love today because I love Peter.  I love Peter because he gives me hope.
    Now, this is not to leave out St. Paul.  St. Paul preached the Gospel with boldness, suffering greatly as he traveled.  And I have also visited the Papal Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls and the smaller church called Tre Fontane, where the Roman soldiers beheaded St. Paul.  His life, too, is encouraging and inspiring, especially his conversion.
    But Christ calls Peter to greatness, almost in spite of himself.  Peter always seems to be tripping over himself, from his first call to the time right before he suffered martyrdom.  Peter has moments where you just want to hit your head and say, “C’mon, man!”  But then he also has moments where you stand in awe at what he is willing to do out of love for the Lord.
    Think back to the call of Peter in Luke, chapter 4.  Peter had been fishing all night and had caught nothing.  And then the Lord asks him to go out into deep waters and throw his net over the sides.  At first, Peter objects, but he complies with the command, and then catches so many fish that his business partners, James and John, have to come and help him drag it in.  Peter begs the Lord to leave because of his sinfulness, but Christ calls Peter to abandon his boats and nets, and become a fisher of men.  
    We hear today the great proclamation of faith, that Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah, the Christ, the Son of God.  And Christ promises to build His Church upon the rock of Peter, and that the gates of Hell will not prevail against it, no matter how dark times seem to get.  Great moment for Peter!  But then immediately afterwards, the Savior tells the disciples how He will suffer, and Peter pulls Him aside and tells Him to stop saying that nonsense, wherein the Lord calls the other disciples together again and rebukes Peter to his face, saying, “Get behind me, Satan.”  Not a strong start for this newly-named first Pope.
    At the Last Supper, Peter assures Christ that even if everyone else abandons Him, Peter will stay faithful.  What a great statement of loyalty.  But then Christ tells Peter that He will deny even knowing Him three times, which, of course, happens, and Peter goes off to weep because of his betrayal.
    And, by tradition, even at the end of his life, Peter still struggled a bit.  Peter was warned by the Christians in Rome, where Peter was preaching, that the soldiers were going to arrest him.  So Peter runs away, and begins to leave Rome.  As he’s going away from Rome on the Appian Way, he sees Christ walking back to Rome.  “Domine, quo vadis?” Peter asks.  “Lord, where are you going?”  The Lord tells Peter that He is going to Rome to be crucified a second time.  At that point, Peter realizes he is not supposed to run away, and returns to Rome.  He undergoes crucifixion on Vatican Hill, though upside down because he did not consider himself worthy to die in the same exact manner as his Lord and Savior.

St. Paul

    Back to St. Paul, you can imagine how Paul, a trained theologian, might have wondered about Peter.  Perhaps Paul asked the Lord, “So Peter, this leader of your Church, how much as he studied the Law and the Prophets?”  And you can imagine the Lord saying, “Not much beyond a common man.”  Then Paul: “But certainly he has spent a great deal of time, like me, away from everyone else on retreat in the desert for this great mission,” and our Lord, “Nope.”  Paul: “Well, then, you must have given him some special visions and experience of the third heaven, like you did for me.”  But our Lord responds, “He has been open to special revelation from my Father, to be able to recognize me as the Christ.”  And St. Paul: “Hmmm.  Ok.”  Then our Lord speaks, “And you might have to correct him about how he interacts with Gentiles at some points, but not others, because he sometimes gets cold feet about my will.”  Paul made much more sense for a first pope.  But Christ chose Peter.
    And that gives me, and should give you, hope.  No, I’m not going to be pope.  But God has called us all to some mission for spreading the Gospel.  He chose us, me and you, not because we’re the smartest, or have the best training, or because we’re the holiest, or because we have our life figured out.  He chose us because He wants us to cooperate with Him in our own salvation and the salvation of others.  He has given us gifts that will help us proclaim the Gospel and bring others to Him, that others can’t do as well.  As St. Paul says in his second epistle to the Corinthians, “we hold this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us.”  And as long as we recognize that, even if we, at times fail and fall, we can, like Peter, be successful in the end, maybe not in an earthly sense, but in the only sense that matters: in God’s eyes.  
    Peter gives me hope because, while he has moments of greatness, he is, more often than not, tripping over himself and putting his foot in his mouth.  He was, if I might, a fool.  But he was a fool for Christ, and Christ could work with Peter’s zeal, even though it came with warts.  May we open ourselves to the power of the same Holy Spirit who transformed Simon, the fisherman, the son of Jonah, into Peter, Prince of the Apostles and Pope of the Universal Church.  May Sts. Peter and Paul both intercede for us so that we can spread the Gospel as God wills, and inherit, by our life, the reward these holy Apostles won by the shedding of their blood: union with God[–the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen].   

On Pilgrimage with our Lord

First Sunday of Lent

Mount of Temptations

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  One of my hopes during this Jubilee Year was to lead a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.  There is nothing quite like traveling to the land which our Lord made holy through the Incarnation and Paschal Mystery.  I have been there three times before, but the sites help one go even more deeply into the Gospels by seeing the places where our salvation happened.  As we hear this Gospel for the first Sunday of Lent, I can see in my mind’s eye the Mount of Temptation, which stands near Jericho, the traditional place in the desert where Satan tempted our Lord.  Or, as we get closer to Holy Week, to walk the Way of the Cross through the streets of Jerusalem, or stand at Calvary in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and especially to see the empty tomb in that same church.  
    But most people, whether in the past or in the present, could or cannot physically travel to the Holy Land.  In the past it was expensive and dangerous.  Today the expense is more the issue than anything (the holy sites are generally very safe, even right now with the animosity and fighting between Israel and Hamas).  But St. Francis of Assisi developed the Stations of the Cross, originally just for Franciscan churches, to help people draw closer to the saving events of our Lord’s life from a local church.  And even beyond the Stations of the Cross, we are invited to, even if only spiritually, travel with our Lord in these forty days of Lent.
    During Lent we are meant to be on our own pilgrimage with the Lord for forty days.  We spend forty days in the desert, evoking the forty years the Israelites wandered in the desert between their exodus from slavery in Egypt to their entrance into the Promised Land, as well as the forty days our Lord spent in the desert after His baptism, leading up to His temptation by Satan.
    The desert of Lent is meant to test us, to see of what we are made, and to discover the areas in which we still need to grow.  If we think back to the Chosen People wandering in the desert, at first they were ecstatic about their freedom.  The Egyptians had given their riches to the Israelites, so the liberated slaves had precious materials for their new home to which they traveled.  But fairly early on, they started to regret leaving Egypt, even though they were slaves there, and wanted to go back because, even with as bad as it was, they were familiar and comfortable with the bad, which seemed better than the unfamiliarity with a future, unknown, good.  They cried to God for water and food, and even created a false god after Moses had gone up to Mount Sinai.  The Promised Land was their home, a land God had promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but a land they had left some four hundred years earlier, a land they had forgotten.  While the journey to Canaan was not an exceptionally long distance, because of their lack of faith, just as they were at the door of the Promised Land, they had to wander in the desert even longer than originally intended.
    Instead of lacking faith, our Lord’s forty days in the desert demonstrates what Lent is supposed to be: still difficult, still a test, but a test that we can pass because He did.  Our Lord hungered; our Lord thirsted.  But He did not doubt God’s care for Him, and He did not give in to the temptations of the devil.
    If we are honest, we are more like the Israelites than like our Lord.  Our baptism sets us free from Satan and sin, and God gives us the treasure of His grace, His life, to help us on our way home to heaven, our true Promised Land.  But along the way we doubt God.  We do not trust Him to provide all that we need.  We create false gods whom we feel will lead us better.  We forget that we are made for heaven and union with God, and in our selective amnesia, we make our path to God even longer and more difficult than it needs to be.
    So this Lent, our goal as we travel on pilgrimage with Christ is to be more like Him, and less like the Israelites.  As we fast and abstain, as our stomachs growl, we should remember that we do not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.  As we pray, we do so not to put God to the test, but to bring the desires of our heart to God so that they can be purified and answered according to His will, not to our own insecurities and drive to be in charge.  As we give alms, we recognize that true power does not come from money and possessions, the false gods that we create, but from worshipping God alone and allowing Him to exult us.  
    While the desert is difficult, and tests us to trust more in God and less in ourselves, the desert is not forever.  God does not abandon us to wander around for eternity.  Christ has opened heaven by His Death and Resurrection, and wants us to end up there if we will follow His path through the desert.  The pilgrimage to heaven may be difficult at times, and we may want to turn back to what comforts we think that slavery to sin gives us, or look to other gods of our own making that we think we can control.  But if we follow Christ this Lent, and truly seek to allow Him to put to death in us anything which is not of Him, we will find the Promised Land where angels will minister to us as we worship in perfect happiness our true God: [Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen]

Our Mission Statement

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
    We are all used to mission statements in work.  Many business have some written mission statement.  As a parish, we have a purpose statement that is on the front of our bulletin each week: “Our parish purpose is to use beauty and truth to inspire and develop disciples to transform the secular order by the grace of God, for His glorification and the edification of man.”    We’re also used to it on certain TV shows.  For example Star Trek: “Space: the final frontier.  These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise.  Its continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.”  

    In the Gospel today we hear both the purpose statement of St. Luke and the mission statement of Jesus.  St. Luke tells us that his purpose is “to write [a narrative of events] in an orderly sequence for you…so that you may realize the certainty of the teachings you have received.”  He writes his Gospel account in order to help us believe in what we have heard about Jesus, because he collected the information from those who knew the Lord.  He took his part in the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church, by sharing in written form the good news, the Gospel, of Jesus.  
    Jesus, for His part, quotes the prophet Isaiah, as St. Luke tells us, as He explains in Nazareth, His home town, that He is the long-awaited Messiah.  He tells the people: “‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.’”  And, in case there was any doubt about what He was saying, He tells the people there, “‘Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing.’”  

    Perhaps this is from where the practice of bishops choosing a motto stems, though those are usually much shorter.  For example, Pope Francis chose Miserando atque eligendo, or “by having mercy and also by choosing.”  Or Pope Benedict XVI chose Cooperatores veritatis–cooperators of the truth.  Or Pope St. John Paul II’s famous motto, Totus tuus–Totally yours (referring to the Blessed Mother).  Bishop Boyea has In manus tuas–Into your hands, taken from Luke’s Gospel, as the final words of Jesus on the cross, which He quotes Psalm 31.  Even I have one for my coat-of-arms: In spiritu et veritate–In spirit and truth, which comes from Jesus’ interaction with the Samaritan woman in St. John’s Gospel, and references how we are to worship.  In seminary as jokes, we would sometimes suggest mottos for our brothers when they were ordained, taking out of context other Scripture passages like, “Surely, Lord, there be a stench” and “And Jesus wept,” both from the account of the raising of Lazarus.  
    But it’s not a bad idea for us to have some Scripture that guides our spiritual life, even if it changes from year to year.  Because, like the Blues Brothers, we are all on a mission from God.  Our mission is generally the same, to bring others to believe in Jesus as well as to go to heaven ourselves.  But, as St. Paul reminds us in the second reading, we each have different parts to play in the Church, which does not diminish each person and their role, but helps each of us to shine in what God has called us to do.  Some are apostles; others, prophets; others, teachers; others do mighty deeds; others have gifts of healing or assistance or administration; others, speak in tongues; and other gifts, as well.  But God desires each of us to use the gifts that we have, which He has freely given us, to help us go to heaven and to help build up the Church.  
    Again, that role that we have may change over time.  Maybe at one point of our life we are really strong in apologetics; maybe at another time our role in building up the Church is raising a family as disciples of Christ; maybe at another time it’s helping with different groups in the parish; maybe at another time it’s bearing witness to the faith at work.  The list goes on and on.  But God desires that we, throughout our life and especially after we are confirmed, do what we can to share the Gospel and help the Church grow.
    So what would your motto or mission statement be?  What Scripture passage guides you at this time in your life?  You may not have thought of this before, so I encourage you this week to open up the family Bible (hopefully it’s not hard to find and isn’t simply collecting dust), and read through the Psalms or Gospel passages or the epistles of St. Paul to choose a Scripture passage that will guide you this year.  Maybe it will be part of what we heard in the Gospel today: “to bring glad tidings to the poor.”  Maybe it will be from our first reading: “rejoicing in the Lord must be your strength.”  Hopefully it’s not a joke, like the taken-out-of-context phrase from the second reading, “‘I do not need you.’”  Whatever Scripture passage you discern the Lord wants to guide you with this year, may it shape your activities in work and rest, and home and abroad, to help spread the Gospel and build up the Church, which continues the mission of the Lord by the power of the Holy Spirit. 

Fighting Temptations and Healing Wounds

 First Sunday of/in Lent
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]. Last week I did my taxes, and because I started to work partially in the City of Flint last calendar year (when I became pastor at St. Matthew), I have file taxes for Flint.  But, because I only worked part of the day in Flint last year, I had to see how many days I worked, and then how many of those days I worked in the City of Flint, to see how much of my wages Flint could tax.  As I looked through the year, week-by-week, I saw some of the highlights of the year, and also some of the lowlights.  My calendar connected me to memories, some of which were delightful, some of which were not so delightful.
    Many of those painful memories from last year were due to my own sinfulness and wounds that I have developed throughout my life, and the reactions that can sometimes happen when those wounds become irritated by the everyday happenings of life.  Some of my own wounds are the fear of abandonment, the desire to be wanted, and the desire to be successful.  You may have the same, or maybe very different, wounds and sins.  But we all have them.

Mount of Temptations in Israel

    As our Lord entered into His time of temptation in the desert, He took upon Himself, not His wounds or sins, because He didn’t have any, but He did take our wounds, sins, and temptations.   The three that He underwent might be categorized as temptations related to physical appetites, amazing feats, and power.  But Christ enters the desert to do battle with the devil, but also show us how to battle the devil with using the same tactics our Lord used.  
    Just as Jesus was in the desert for 40 days, so our 40 day Lenten pilgrimage allows us to grow closer to God and work on our sins and wounds.  As St. Paul says, now is the acceptable time for entering into this battle with our fallen self and with the devil, because now is the time of salvation.  Each day that we put off dealing with our wounds and sins is another day that the infection grows deeper, and becomes more painful when we want to debride the wound.
    So what does Christ show us?  First, He shows us that fighting wounds, temptations, and sins should be rooted in who we are.  Satan begins his temptations with: “If you are the Son of God.”  The enemy seeks to call into question who we are.  In order to fight our wounds, we need to recognize that we are the beloved children of God in the one Son of God, Jesus Christ.  When we operate out of that identity, we are less likely to seek our identity in lesser goods.  How easy it is for us to root our identity in who seems to want us, or what we have accomplished.  But those things are fleeting.  Friends can fall away; our achievements, especially if they are not rooted in God, can come crumbling down.  But God is the sure foundation upon Whom we can build our house and base our worth.  
    Secondly, Christ shows us that we should go to Scripture to fight against attacks of the devil.  Yes, Satan does quote Scripture in the passage we heard today, but Christ uses Scripture to show how Satan’s quotations of the Word of God is off.  Sometimes we are afraid of the Scriptures, and sometimes they are not readily clear or intelligible, or their meaning needs some unpacking by the Church’s magisterium, or teaching office.  But the Word of God is always a good place to go to fight off temptations, and you can reference the passages in the Catechism if you have questions about the deeper meaning.  Our psalm/gradual and tract from today, talks about how God will protect His servants.  That is what God does for us.  Our guardian angels want to fight off the temptations with us, and attack any of the fallen spirits that seek to do us harm.  Not even a lion or a dragon could stand a chance if we stay close to the Lord and trust in His power to keep us safe.  
    To resist sin and temptation, and to have our wounds healed, we need only ask God, and He will come to our aid.  God wants us to be holy and whole.  He knows how easy it is for us to operate out of false identities, not rooted in Christ, which then lead us to give in to temptation and fall into sin.  He knows beforehand what we often only find out after the fact: that giving in to temptation, sinning, and letting our wounds rule us is self-destructive and does not bring us happiness, even if it sometimes brings us passing pleasure.  
    Take advantage of this season of Lent.  Make this the acceptable time to be healed of sin and wounds through the Sacrament of Penance.  Ask God to help you to see where and why you hurt, and where and why you so easily fall into particular sins.  Those sins and wounds do not define you.  You are the beloved child of the Father, who with the Son and Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Becoming Like Obi-Wan Kenobi

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    While the Star Wars purists here might lose some respect for me, I’m actually a fan of Episodes II and III, which deal with Anakin Skywalker, and his transition to Darth Vader.  Every time I watch the movies I am drawn in by how good Anakin was, how he was driven by good motives, but then those motives get twisted when he sees a vision of his wife, Padmé, dying in childbirth (which, ironically, he helps cause to happen).  I particularly enjoy Episode III and a final battle between Anakin and his mentor, Obi-Wan

Kenobi.  Obi-Wan is trying, however futilely, to show Anakin the error of his ways, and mentions the great hope that Obi-Wan had for Anakin.  But Anakin is set in his dark path, so Obi-Wan has to kill Anakin to prevent future evil from thriving.  Obi-Wan still cares for Anakin, and so bemoans that Anakin turned to the dark side, despite his potential to do so much good.  As Anakin, his legs amputated by Obi-Wan’s light saber and the rest of his body slowly burning from lava-laced ground, looks at Obi-Wan leaving him to die, he yells out, “I hate you!”
    The people of Israel, and we, the members of the Church, can sometimes be like Anakin Skywalker: we have such great potential to do good and bring light, but so often we turn to the dark.  Rather than continuing as Anakin Skywalker, a great Jedi who can accomplish so much good, our desires and our hearts are twisted and perverted to become Darth Vader, a Sith who sews darkness.
    The prophets are like Obi-Wan Kenobi.  They are meant to train us in goodness and holiness, and remind us of the will of God.  Jeremiah, in our first reading, spoke to the people of Judah, the southern kingdom of Israel, to tell them that they had wandered away from God.  They no longer walked in the light, but caused darkness by their oppression of the poor, widows, and orphans, their worship of foreign gods, and their trust in the building of the temple, rather than trusting in the One who made the temple holy: God.  For this, Jeremiah eventually is arrested and thrown into a cistern, until what Jeremiah prophesied comes to pass, and the temple is destroyed and the people are exiled to Babylon.  
    Jesus, too, is a prophet, but not just a prophet, but the Prophet, and the source of all prophecy.  He speaks for God, which is the role of every prophet, and while some are drawn to that proclamation, others are enraged by it.  The members of his hometown wonder how He could claim to speak with such authority, as He had just proclaimed that the passage from Isaiah was fulfilled in their hearing, which we heard last week.  So Jesus calls them out, and for this they drive Him out of town, and try to push Him off the brow of the hill, but He passes through them without any harm.
    Last week I mentioned how our mission is the same as Jesus’ mission.  We are called to be prophets.  But as we proclaim God’s Word (and we should make sure that we’re spreading God’s word, not our own), we should not fool ourselves and think that everyone will warmly accept our message.  As we challenge people to live according to God’s plan, people may start yelling at us, “I hate you!”
    Part of proclaiming that message is doing so with love.  So often we operate out the philosophy that what is loving is what people will readily embrace.  But St. Paul reminds us that love is not a feeling, but is actions.  In fact, in the English we say “Love is patient,” and basically use descriptors for love.  But in the original Greek, when St. Paul describes love, the word that we consider describing love is actually a verb.  Instead of saying, “Love is patient,” we might say, “Love patients.”  Importantly, too, love “does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth.”  Anything that God has revealed is wrong, or anything that God has revealed as false is not loving.  
    This is where most people get upset, because there are many things in today’s culture that people think are loving, but because they are contrary to what God has revealed in Sacred Scripture or through the Church, they are not truly loving.  Like Anakin, there is the desire to do good, but it easily gets twisted and changes to evil because a person’s emotions or desires get the better of him or her.  
    What is obvious in the Scriptures is that people, even well-intentioned people, prefer doing evil to good, because evil often feels so much better and gives quicker gratification.  Doing good sometimes doesn’t feel good, and sometimes you don’t feel gratified immediately.  Or sometimes we convince ourselves, contrary to the ancient maxim, that we can do this evil thing because it will achieve a good result.  Evil never leads to good; it only perpetuates evil.
    We are all called to be prophets through our baptism, which means that we are all called to proclaim God’s message by word and by deed.  As prophets, though, we should prepare ourselves that not everyone will always be open to God’s message, no matter how we package it, and that it may, like Jeremiah and Jesus, lead to real struggles.  But, if we speak the message in the love of God, we know that we, grounded in love, can bear all things, hope all things, and endure all things.

Jesus' Mission–And Ours

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
    The analogy that St. Paul uses of the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church, being like a human body is pretty accessible.  We think about the different parts of the body, and how they all work together.  And if a part is not working, it can pretty easily lead to problems.  Even something as simply as a foot falling asleep can be quite problematic.  The brain may want it to work, the lungs may be getting enough oxygen for the foot to work, but if there is no blood flow, the muscles can’t respond like they’re supposed to and walk.   
    But the Church isn’t about walking.  The Church’s mission is the exact same mission that Jesus outlined in today’s Gospel.  We have been anointed “to bring glad tidings to the poor…to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind,…and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.”  Maybe you’re thinking that you didn’t sign up for that, but you did, when you were baptized, or when your parents had you baptized.  By being configured to Christ through baptism, your mission became the same as the Lord’s, as Isaiah prophesied in the Old Testament. 
    Of course, we need to go beyond the literal meaning of the words, and go to the deeper, spiritual meaning.  What does it mean to bring glad tidings to the poor?  How do we proclaim liberty to captives?  Is there any way that we can give sight to the blind?  What is an acceptable year to the Lord, and how do we proclaim it?
    First, let’s look at bringing glad tidings to the poor.  Who are the poor?  We tend to think of them as those who do not have enough money or resources, for a variety of reasons.  But as we go beyond the economic definition of the poor, we can look to those who are spiritually poor.  Those who are spiritually poor are those who don’t have enough of what they need, but instead of focusing on money, they don’t have enough of the Lord.  We are each made for God, and, as St. Augustine says, “our hearts are restless until they rest in [God].”  So when a person doesn’t have that connection to God, they are spiritually

hungry and thirsty, and need that sustenance.  Bringing glad tidings to the poor means connecting people to God.  It may be a co-worker who is bemoaning a difficult decision in life, or a family member for whom nothing seems to go right.  If we are to continue the mission to bring glad tidings to the poor, we need to tell that co-worker about Jesus, and about how He can give us wisdom to make the right decision according to what will make us truly happy.  Or we can ask the family member if we can pray with them and for them about the bad situations they are experiencing.  That is how we bring glad tidings to the poor.
    When it comes to proclaiming liberty to captives, we’re not talking about letting people out of jail, which is generally a bad idea.  The captivity that binds us all is sin, as Jesus says in the Gospels, and St. Paul reaffirms in some of his epistles.  To proclaim liberty is to let people know that there is a way to unload their burden of sin, and find the freedom they want.  It may mean inviting someone to go to confession with us.  Or it may mean being an accountability partner for someone who is stuck in a cycle of addition.  But Jesus charges us with the task of letting people know that they do not have to continue in slavery to sin, but can find the freedom that they desire, the freedom of the children of God.
    In the Gospel according to John, Jesus calls the Pharisees blind because they are unaware of their sin, even while they are condemning the man who was born blind but whom Jesus healed.  The physically blind cannot see the physical world, which creates unique challenges to life.  The spiritually blind cannot see the spiritual world, which creates challenges both in the spiritual and the physical world.  If a person believes that this life is all there is, that there is no God, they will stumble through a world that God created according to His plan.  If a person does not acknowledge what God has revealed to make them happy, then they will be miserable.  So our duty as people on the mission is to help them see how the world truly works, not from an earthly point of view, but from a spiritual point of view.  We do this by encouraging those who can work to do so, to build up the society in which they live, rather than simply taking from a government program.  We encourage the virtue of chastity, especially, but not only, to the youth in our families, because the vice of lust leads people to trip and fall over many pitfalls that God does not want for their lives.  We invite people to come to Mass with us on Sunday, not because it’s easy or we always feel we get something out of it, but because God has made us to praise Him, and when we don’t, we’re lacking the ability to hear how God wants to most easily speak to us.
    Last, but not least, to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.  The acceptable year of the Lord was the jubilee, the celebration every 7 years, and especially in the 50th year, of a rest granted by the Lord.  Our words and our actions should point to heaven, which is the eternal rest to which the jubilee year pointed.  But we get there by the narrow path, not by the wide road.  So proclaiming that acceptable year means reminding people that this life is not all there is, and that heaven is what God wants for us, but we have to accept that gift of eternal life by the daily decisions that we make.  We tell others about Jesus’ Resurrection, and how that ensures for us the possibility of eternal life, where we will eternally worship God in the wedding feast of the Lamb. 
    When we were baptized, we were anointed with the Sacred Chrism which made us little christs, little anointed ones.  At that moment, the mission that Isaiah proclaimed, and that Jesus said was fulfilled in the hearing in the synagogue, became our mission, too.  Today, the Lord invites us to recommit ourselves to the mission: “to bring glad tidings to the poor,…to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind,…and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.”

Into the Desert

First Sunday of Lent

“Filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus…was led by the Spirit into the desert for forty days.”  Did you hear that first line of the Gospel, or did it go by unnoticed?  Listen to it again: “Filled withe the Holy Spirit, Jesus…was led by the Spirit into the desert for forty days.”  If we’re listening to it, it should jostle us a little.  It should lead us to ask, ‘Why would the Holy Spirit lead Jesus into the desert?’  

The desert, after all, is a place of trial and death.  It’s the opposite of the place God first intended for humanity, which was a garden, the Garden of Eden.  God also led the Chosen People through the desert, but the desert wasn’t a happy place for them.  The goal was the Promised Land, the “land flowing with milk and honey.”  The desert was where they had to wander due to their lack of faith in God, and it is the place where they grumbled against God, even though He was providing for all their needs.  So why would God the Holy Spirit lead Jesus (God the Son) there?

Jesus goes into the desert to show us how to fight against temptation.  Jesus was like us in all ways except sin.  He shows us that, when we unite our humanity, our nature, to the divinity of God, God’s nature, we can resist in the desert what Adam and Eve did not resist in the garden.  While not for Jesus, for us, the desert is a time of purification, helping us to grow in our relationship with God and to trust in Him to provide all that we need.

Lent for us is that time of purification, of growing in our relationship with God, of trusting in God to provide for all our needs.  It is the desert.  It is not the destination, not the goal, but the way by which we reach our destination and goal.  It is the place where God puts to death temptation and sin, and prepares us for the life of paradise.  It is what makes us ready for the life of paradise, the life of the Promised Land.  And the Holy Spirit leads us there, not to stay there, but to get to the Promised Land.

Right now we are in the desert as a Church.  We are in a time of purification, where temptation and sin are being put to death.  We could talk about the different issues that are plaguing the Church right now.  But those are simply symptoms of the problem.  The heart of the problem is that we, as a society, have given in to the second temptation of Satan from today’s Gospel.  

The enemy tempted Jesus, “‘I shall give to you all this power and glory; for it has been handed over to me, and I may give it to whomever I wish.  All this will be yours if you worship me.’”  We, as a society, and therefore as individuals, have decided to worship false gods, mostly the self and pleasure, for the sake of power and glory.  We abandoned the worship of the true God who leads us to paradise, and we have reveled in the worship of false gods who lead us to death and destruction.

We see it in politics, where money and power have become ultimate goods, and people are told what they want to hear, not what is right.  The personal pleasure of each individual has become the supreme good to which everything–the child in the womb, the elderly who are sick or dying, the natural law written into our very human nature–has to be subjected.  So many politicians, across party lines, do whatever will get them money from donors and reelected, not what is best for the country and its citizens.

We see it also in our sacred liturgy.  My formative years were where most of the songs and most of the focus at Mass was on me: what makes me feel good; how can I be affirmed as a person; and how much God loved me as I am.  Now, feeling good can be good; personal affirmation can be good; and God does love me unconditionally.  But feeling good is only good when it comes from doing good and avoiding evil.  Affirmation of what is noble is good, but we should feel shame for doing what is base.  God loves me as I am, but He loves me too much to leave me there; He calls me each day to conversion.  We are tempted to narcissism, exercises on focusing on the self, rather than God.  But, as Jesus reminds us, “‘You shall worship the Lord, your God, and him alone shall you serve.’”

How often do we hear: I don’t like the music, so I’m leaving the church.  I don’t like the preaching, so I’m leaving the church.  I don’t like the priest, so I’m leaving the church.  The common denominator is that the person is not going to church for God, but for what he likes.  But we don’t come to Mass because of what we like.  We come to give thanks to God for what He did by giving us Jesus so that we could go to heaven.

The Holy Spirit has led the Church into the desert because we have given in to temptation to worship false gods, often the self.  We need to be purified from societal narcissism and be drawn back to the transcendent God, who draws us from ourselves to Him who satisfies all our needs.  Following God doesn’t always feel good; the desert is dry and hot.  Following God doesn’t always affirm our actions; the desert requires us to put away what is ancillary.  Following God means that we say no to the temptations that arise in our daily life which look enticing, but which really keep us out of the garden and paradise.  But, if we follow God through the desert, if we say no to the temptations, especially the false gods we make in our life, then it leads to the Promised Land, to the garden, to place that God has prepared for those who follow His Son.  So during this Lent, follow the Holy Spirit into the desert and fight temptation, empowered by that same Spirit, who with the Father and the Son is one God, for ever and ever.

Disciples are Made for Greatness, Not Comfort

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

There’s a temptation that can creep into any believer’s life, that if we just do the right things, then everything in our life is going to go well.  Maybe it comes from a desire for justice, for everyone getting what is owed them, but we can easily think that if we follow God, if we live our life according to what the Church teaches, then life should be easy for us.  We should be rewarded for good behavior, just like bad behavior should be punished.  There are even those who claim to preach the Gospel (they are really just perverting it) who say that if we follow God’s laws and if we give 10% to the Church, then God is going to make us rich and give us every earthly pleasure that is holy that we could desire.  We call that the Gospel of Prosperity (note that it’s not the Gospel of Jesus Christ).  

This perhaps also betrays a certain tendency in our human nature to want comfort, which is especially prevalent today among the young.  We want the good life, where we don’t have to struggle, don’t have to put forth effort, but we still get the rewards that would come from struggle and effort.  In one sense, we might say that this is built in to us because we were created for prelapsarian life, the life before the Fall in the Garden of Eden.  But we are living in postlapsarian times, the time after the Fall, where we earn our living by the sweat of our brow.  Furthermore, as Pope Benedict XVI reminded us, “The world promises you comfort, but you were not made for comfort.  You were made for greatness.”  Greatness takes work.  Works means struggle.  Struggle means pain.  And it even applies for those who follow God.

Take Jeremiah in our first reading.  God appointed him a prophet.  In fact, God says that He appointed Jeremiah a prophet even while Jeremiah was in his mother’s womb.  And yet, Jeremiah has a tough life, so much so, that God says, “gird your loins; […] Be not crushed on their account.”  Jeremiah is the prophet who immediately prophesies the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of God’s people to Babylon.  As you might imagine, no one liked hearing this dire message.  But even as God tells Jeremiah that he will undergo a lot, he also promises that he has “made you a fortified city, a pillar of iron, a wall of brass…They will fight against you but not prevail over you, for I am with you to deliver you, says the Lord.”  

But besides the fact that God does not promise that those who follow Him and speak for Him will have it easy, Jesus also reminds us that sometimes those who don’t follow God get blessings.  The widow in Zarephath to whom Elijah was sent was not a Jew, and yet God took care of her.  Naaman the Syrian was a foreign general, a general of an army that was constantly threatening to destroy the Jews, and yet God, through the Prophet Elisha, cured him of leprosy.  Those who don’t follow God can still receive His blessings and healing.

And, if we look at Jesus, the co-eternal Son of God, He was perfect.  He never sinned, never did anything wrong.  He followed God’s will perfectly, and extended healing to many, both Jew and Gentile alike.  And what did Jesus get for perfectly doing the will of God and healing those who were ill?  He was led to the cross do die for our sins.  He suffered the most painful and embarrassing way to die as nails pierced his hands and feet and he hung naked outside the walls of Jerusalem.

But just in case you thought that being a disciple of Jesus means that life is going to be quite painful and horrible, that’s not the truth either.  Yes, our life on earth, in the vale of tears, may have a lot of suffering, but faithfulness to God always leads to eternal life in heaven.  Jesus shows us that in the most perfect way in His Resurrection.  Yes, following God’s will led Jesus to the cross, but the cross led to the Resurrection.  Yes, Jeremiah was treated poorly for speaking a difficult word from God, but he was received into heaven when Christ opened the gates of Paradise.  We long for the ease of Eden, but God promises, after our trials and tribulations on earth, a paradise and a comfort that exceeds anything that earth can offer to an infinite degree.  To tweak Pope Benedict’s words slightly, we were not made for comfort on this earth, but we were made for eternal joy in heaven.  

And what guides us amid the joys and sorrows of life?  Love.  True love, which means the type of love that is patient, kind, not jealous, not pompous, not rude, not quick-tempered, not brooding, rejoicing in the truth.  Love guides us to our eternal joy because perfect love is eternal joy in heaven, where God, who is Love itself, shows us himself face to face.  

It would be nice if everything came to us without effort; if following Jesus did not require sacrifice and struggle.  But because we are fallen, following Jesus does not mean that we will get everything we want and life will not always be easy.  But, if we stay faithful to Christ, especially when it requires sacrifice and struggle, we know that we have a treasure, not made by hands, eternal in heaven, waiting for us, and fulfilling beyond measure the desire we have on earth for true joy.

Not Them vs. Us

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

If you’ve been watching the news recently (a depressing venture, to be sure), you’ve heard about students from Convington Catholic High School at the March for Life.  A first video was shared which seemed to show an elder Native American activist being shouted at by the students, some with “Make America Great Again” hats, with one student in particular with a smug, very condescending smile on his face.  Some also claimed that the students were chanting “Build the Wall.”  The students were excoriated in the media as being the problem with America, and by some, the problem with the pro-life movement.  The Diocese of Convington apologized for the students’ behavior and judged them as guilty based upon the popular narrative at the time.

Shortly after the first video was released, a second video was released with more context, showing that the students were being yelled at by an African-American group that was protesting.  That group of people were yelling hateful things towards the students, so, to drown out the hate, they started doing school chants.  At that point, the elder Native American and his group walked towards the students, and the Native American elder stood very close to the smiling student.  That student explained that he was smiling to try to diffuse a very tense situation, and did what he thought was best to keep other students from the school from becoming verbally or physically abusive in retaliation.  Some apologies and retractions were issued about those who pounced on the first video, and these students were put forward as good examples of our youth not being baited into a fight, while others were excoriated for jumping to conclusions and reporting those conclusions before all the facts were available.

I’m not here to dissect all the blame in this situation, and who is right and who is wrong.  I’m here to preach the Gospel, and our Gospel today bears upon this situation.  Jesus in the Gospel says, quoting the Prophet Isaiah, that he has come “‘to proclaim liberty to captives…[and] to let the oppressed go free.’”  When we hear those words, we probably associate them with those who are incarcerated or held by strong forces (captives) and those who are downtrodden (the oppressed).  Maybe we think about it in social terms or government terms, or maybe even military or law enforcement terms (probably, some of those hearing it understood Jesus to mean that He was going to free them from Roman rule).  

But we are today captivated, that is to say, held by, and oppressed by more things than just foreign powers or strong worldly forces.  We are, I would suggested, held captive and oppressed by a mentality, from which Jesus came to free us.  That mentality, which captivates and oppresses us is a mentality which divides the world into “them” and “us.”  Jesus does not see people as “others,” but rather, as “His,” because all things have been handed over to Him by His Father, by our heavenly Father.  

This is not to say that Jesus naïvely thought that everyone was working for him.  How many times did Jesus condemn the scribes and Pharisees for their wrong interpretation of the law, their oppression of people, and they hypocrisy.  And yet, when a Pharisee came asking Jesus about the greatest commandment, and when Jesus responded, that Pharisee gave his assent to the teaching of Jesus, then Jesus told the Pharisee that he was not far from salvation.  Jesus condemned the misreading and skepticism about the resurrection of the dead by the Sadducees, and yet Nicodemus, one of the Sadducees, engaged in dialogue with Jesus about baptism and being born again, and there was no condemnation from Jesus.  Jesus told the adulterous woman to go and sin no more, and called tax collectors to stop cheating others, and called everyone to stop hating their enemies, or looking lustfully at people, or swearing oaths blithely.  But Jesus also welcomed sinners into His company and invited them to a relationship with Him so that they could find the conversion to which Jesus called them.

We have become captives and oppressed by a worldview that divides the world.  We are all too happy to condemn them when they don’t agree with us.  This is hard to do as humans, because we’re social and want to belong.  So we demonize others, put them down, so that we can write them off.  Look at Congress and the President over the past month.  Nothing was getting done because each side had demonized the other.  There’s plenty of blame to go around for both sides; no one side is perfectly innocent.  The same goes for the coverage of the Convington Catholic students.  And yet, we willingly let ourselves be led like lemmings to a pre-determined conclusion because of a political or social affiliation that we value more than our affiliation with Jesus.  St. Paul says in his letter to the Ephesians: 

remember that at one time you, Gentiles in the flesh…were at that time without Christ, alienated from the community of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, without hope and without God in the world.  But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have become nearly by the blood of Christ.  For he is our peace, he who made both one and broke down the dividing wall of enmity, through his flesh…[creating] in himself one new person in place of the two, thus establishing peace.

St. Paul puts it in terms of Gentile and Jew, the Jewish division of the world.  But it applies to any division we make in our world.

There are people who do evil in the world.  There is legitimate blame for things that people do wrong, for which we can hold them accountable.  But if we see the world through the lens of “them” vs. “us,” then we are ignoring the Good News that Jesus came to bring, that He came to bring us freedom from being held captive and oppressed by division, and that God’s freedom, prophesied by Isaiah, has been fulfilled by Christ.

Girl Scout Cookies and Temptation

First Sunday of Lent

One of the Lenten memories that stand out the most from my childhood, is how the Girl Scouts always seem to deliver their cookies shortly after Lent began.  For six long weeks a box or two of Samoas and Thin Mints would be sitting in the freezer, just waiting to be eaten, seemingly calling to me from their frigid home during Lent.  It was certainly a temptation to simply eat them during Lent, even though it was a family practice to avoid sweets, including Girl Scout Cookies, during the penitential season.

We hear about Jesus’ temptations today in the Gospel.  He wasn’t tempted so much by Girl Scout Cookies, but by the ancient sin whereby Satan tricked Adam and Eve: the sin of pride.  Satan tempts Jesus to show His power by turning stone into bread; to receive power over all if Jesus would just worship Satan; to throw Himself off the parapet of the temple because God will not let His Son suffer.  Pride is the sin where we put ourselves above God.  That’s how Satan had corrupted Adam and Eve, and that’s how he planned on corrupting Jesus.  Of course, we know that Jesus did not fall into those temptations.  He rejects Satan and rejects putting God to the test.

When we sin, it often happens in one of two ways.  Some sins we don’t even think about.  We react without any reflection of what we’re doing.  In one sense, these sins are most dangerous, because they are second nature.  It might be taking God’s Name in vain after a frustrating experience, yelling at someone when we are mad at them, or gossiping about a person with whom we disagree or whom we dislike.  In another sense, they are less dangerous, because we do not freely choose the action, but almost seem to go on instinct, even if the instinct has been created by us through habitual actions.

Other sins come through long thought.  We are tempted, and we give in, either after a short or a long fight.  These are the sins where an idea pops into our head to do something we know we shouldn’t: to watch a show or visit a site that we know we don’t need to and which could lead to further sin; to plot a way to get back at someone who has hurt us; to have just a small bite or just a sip of a food or a beverage that we know we shouldn’t.  In and of itself, that thought, that temptation, is not a sin.  But how often do we move from the thought to further action: going to the channel or the site; starting to think about what we would do to get back that that person; opening up the refrigerator or going to the bar.  Once we start going down that path, giving in to the temptation, it is much harder to get out of it.  The behavior, whatever it is, seems to take on a life of its own and grow, and we can end up feeling surrounded and smothered by that sin.  Even if these sins are small, they can be very dangerous, because we are using the God-given gift of reason, a way that we are made in God’s image and likeness, to reject God.  

So how do we avoid giving in to the temptations in our life, whatever they are?  How do we say no to temptation and yes to God?  The first key is to swat away and move on from the temptation when it first shows itself.  Treat the temptation like you would a mosquito, and move on to something else.  Otherwise the mind will easily go back to the temptation, and it will gain strength.

The second key is tied to our first reading from the Book of Deuteronomy.  It may have seemed simply like a nice story that the Israelites were told to recall, but at the heart of the passage today is remembering who we are and what God has done for us.  When we recall that we are children of God, redeemed by the Blood of Christ, we receive strength to fight the temptations that come our way.  Satan tries to have us forget who we are so that we need to rely on him to give us meaning.  In moments of temptation, we should recall that we are sons and daughters of God, and that God found us so important to Him that He would send His Son, Jesus, to die for us so that we didn’t have to fall into temptation and sin.  When our self-worth is based in God, we are less likely to turn to lesser goods to make ourselves feel better.  In the Gospel, Jesus knew who He was, and didn’t need to demonstrate that to Satan to prove it.  That helped Him to resist Satan’s temptations. 

The third key is also from the Gospel: turn to the Word of God.  When Satan tempts Jesus, Jesus quotes Scripture.  The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us that the Word of God is living and effective.  It helps sort through the lies that Satan, the father of lies, wants us to buy.  If we have regular contact with the Word of God, it doesn’t mean that the temptations will stop, but we will know how to fight them, because we are familiar with the message of love and truth that God gave us through His Word.  

All of us have been, are, and will be tempted.  It is a part of our human condition after the Fall.  But, after Jesus redeemed us by dying on the cross, we also have the strength to reject temptation and sin, and say yes to God.  When we are tempted, in whatever way we are, may we remember that we are children of God whose worth is based in God, and turn to the Word of God to follow Jesus’ example of saying no to Satan and yes to God.  

But That's None of My Business

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Having spent four years working with high school students, I learned some interesting phrases and words, some that I can even say in church, but which will all sound rediculous, I’m sure, coming from my mouth: you don’t even know (sometimes abbreviated UOENO); but that’s none of my business (usually on a meme with Kermit the Frog sipping from a cup with Lipton tea); fo sho (which means for sure); bae (slang for a significant other; allegedly the abbreviation for before anyone else, as in, she comes before anyone else); and you don’t know me (which is usually used as a response when a person a being accused of something).  If Scripture was translated into slang of the new millennium (which I don’t advise), perhaps Jesus’ response to his neighbors asking, “‘Isn’t this the son of Joseph?’” would be “You don’t know me!”  Or maybe, after talking about how Elijah went to a foreigner, a Gentile, to provide bread during the famine, or how Elisha cured Naaman, who was not Jewish, of leprosy, Jesus would have said, “But that’s none of my business.”  Maybe He wouldn’t have.  

But the point is the same.  Last week we heard about how Jesus went back to His home town and read from the scroll of Isaiah about the Messiah, and said that the Scripture was fulfilled in the hearing of his neighbors.  This week, we hear their reaction, their disbelief.  And Jesus gets upset at their lack of faith, because they think they know who this guy is.  He’s just the neighbor boy from down the road, who was poor and seemed to be special in no way whatsoever.      So He needs to prove that He is special by doing some miracles, by putting on a show for His neighbors, so that they can believe.  But of course, we know human nature all too well, and Jesus knew it even better: even if he would have done a miracle, they would have found some excuse to not believe, because their minds were already made up that He was no one special.  And all of this, because He spoke God’s Word.

It can be tough to speak God’s Word, especially around the people we know.  That’s what it means to be a prophet, and we were all called to be prophets, to speak for God, when we were baptized.  But people know us.  They know our faults.  They know where we came from.  All too often they will not listen.  That is why God tells Jeremiah in the first reading, that he will have to gird his loins, a phrase which literally means, “make sure your underwear’s tight so you’re ready for combat or strenuous activity,” but which we could also say means “be prepared.”  God warns Jeremiah that the people to whom God is sending Jeremiah (the Chosen People) will try to crush him, and that Jeremiah will need to be “a fortified city, a pillar of iron, a wall of brass.”  He will have to be strong because his own people will reject what he says as he speaks on God’s behalf.

We have to be strong if we’re going to speak for God.  To speak out against the dirty joke or internet site that our friends are telling or viewing; to encourage a family member back into the Catholic faith who has been away for a while; to defend the Catholic faith when someone is mocking one of our beliefs; these are all difficult things to do, and we need to be strong like Jeremiah and especially like Jesus.  Neither of them backed off when others challenged them speaking for God.  In fact, they reiterated their message.

But, as St. Paul reminds us in the beautiful hymn of love in our second reading, we have to speak God’s Word with love.  “If I speak in human and angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.  And if I have the gift of prophecy, and comprehend all mysteries and knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.”  If one temptation is to shrink back from speaking God’s word, the other temptation is to speak God’s Word in a sanctimonious and overbearing way.  Neither of these are the right approaches.  The virtuous middle is to speak God’s Word, but to do so out of love for the other.  

How do you know if you’re speaking with love?  Are you impatient in your speech?  Are you rude?  Are you seeking your own interests, quick-tempered, or brooding over an injury?  If so, St. Paul tells us that we’re not speaking with love.  Love, rather, “does not rejoice over wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.  It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”  

It is challenging to be a prophet, to speak God’s message.  If it were easy, everyone would do it.  But the Lord calls us to be strong and speak His message, His Word, to those we know and those we meet.  He calls us to spread His word, even when it calls for conversion and change of life, with love.  We don’t have to be perfect to speak for God.  Jeremiah wasn’t.  But if we are followers of Jesus, then we, too, are called “‘to bring glad tidings to the poor…to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.’”  That is fo sho what we are called to do.

The Adventure Awaits!

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            It seems, at least historically, that the American people have an adventurous nature.  Look at the way we spread across this land, moving out into the unknown to establish new States.  While I’m not positive, it wouldn’t surprise me that an American invented the sport (though I consider it more rash than adventurous) where you get a snowmobile up to terrific speeds in order to do flips and twists in the air, before trying to land it safely on the ground. 

G. K. Chesterton

            Given this adventurous nature, there should be droves of people lining up to be Catholic.  Now, Catholic and adventurous may not always go together in your mind.  Our liturgy, though altered in noticeable ways in the late 1960s and early 1970s, dates back (at least in its basic form) to the first century, and old and adventurous do not always go together.  It is sometimes said that those who are Catholic are simply afraid of pursuing other beliefs and opening their minds to other realities.  The Catholic Church, fairly or unfairly, is often associated with conservativism, of holding on to the past, rather than the liberalism of plowing ahead on a new, undiscovered path.  But, as G.K. Chesterton said, “People have fallen into a foolish habit of speaking of orthodoxy as something heavy, humdrum and safe.  [But] there was never anything so perilous or so exciting as orthodoxy.”

            What do I mean?  What does Chesterton mean?  Well, look at our readings today.  In our first reading, God calls Jeremiah to be His prophet, His spokesman.  But being a prophet for God means that God’s own Chosen People were going to fight against Jeremiah.  And so God assures Jeremiah that God has made the prophet “a fortified city, a pillar of iron, a wall of brass.”  Jeremiah had to tell the people, especially the leaders of Judah, that they could not trust in foreign alliances to save them; that they needed to turn away from the false gods of Canaan and Assyria; that only by fidelity to God would salvation come.  But the people preferred the foreign alliances and the idolatry that came with it.  It would be no easy task to try to get the people to turn away from sin and be faithful to God.  It took a true adventurous heart to say “yes” to God’s call and fight the cultural norms of the day.

            Or, look at our Gospel.  What an adventure to follow a guy who claims to be the fulfillment of the Messianic prophecies, but looks exactly the same as everybody else; is thought of as the son of Joseph, and has been doing miracles everywhere else, but when it comes to His own home town, nothing major happens.  And then, rather than just passing by, Jesus condemns the people’s disbelief, and says that God prefers the pagans to the Chosen People because at least they have faith, as in the days of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath, or in the days of Elisha and Naaman the Syrian.  And, based upon this critique, the people, Jesus’ own neighbors, try to drive Jesus off a hill to at least do Him bodily harm, if not to kill Him.  What an adventure to follow the guy that everyone wants to put to death!

            Catholicism now is no less an adventure now than it was when Jesus was founding His Church in the first century.  It takes real courage to follow a Person who is not half-God and half-Human, but 100% God and 100% Human, without any mixture or confusion.  It is so much easier to say that Jesus was just a really good, but really misunderstood, sage.  It is so much easier to assert that no one has a special office and we can all just vote on what we want to believe.  But as a Catholic, we’re not into easy.  Our faith is adventurous in what we believe and in what we preach.

            The Lord God still reminds us that we are called to be “a fortified city, a pillar of iron, a wall of brass against the whole land.”  We are not necessarily morally better, but we are called to be faithful to the truth that God has communicated through His Church, governed by the apostles and their successors.  The gift of truth that we have received, the Spirit of Truth who leads us into all truth, is not meant to be something that we just hold by ourselves in smugness, but spread to others so that they can find the freedom of living as a child of God.  But we will get pounded for this.  When we defend marriage as created by God between one man and one woman we are called bigots.  God’s truth is called lies, light is called darkness, and good is called evil. 

            It is in those times that we should turn back to St. Paul and his second letter to Timothy:

proclaim the word; be persistent whether it is convenient or inconvenient; convince, reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching.  For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine but, following their own desire and insatiable curiosity, will accumulate teachers and will stop listening to the truth and will be diverted to myths.  But you, be self-possessed in all circumstances; put up with hardship; perform the work of an evangelist.

Of course, we are called to preach the truth in love, as our second reading reminds us, so that we are not “a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.”  We are called to invite to the joy of the truth.  We are called to propose, but not to impose.  But this love is not the emotion which encourages someone to do whatever he or she wants, but the will for the best that the other person can be.  And in the end, being Catholic means that we believe and hold firm to teachings that the world considers folly.

Being Catholic is an adventure, and is not for the faint of heart.  But a crown of righteousness awaits those who are faithful and complete the adventure on earth.  “People have fallen into a foolish habit of speaking of orthodoxy as something heavy, humdrum and safe.  There never was anything so perilous or so exciting as orthodoxy.”