Drawing Near the Unworthy

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Last week we had the profession of faith by St. Peter that our Lord is the Christ, the Messiah, and this week we get a second dose of St. Peter, but this time we hear about his call.  What strikes me in this Gospel passage is that Peter acknowledges his own sinfulness, and yet the Lord does not draw back.  In fact, the Lord draws in Peter and gives him a new mission, no longer to strive to catch fish, but to work at the catch of men, captured in the nets of the love of the Lord.
    We’ve all, I believe, been in the position of Peter.  We sin, whether venially or mortally, and we don’t feel worthy for Christ to be around us.  I think this is especially true of mortal sin.  Mortal sin, as we hopefully remember, is when we commit a grave sin (something serious); we know it’s wrong; and we freely choose to commit that sin anyway.  All three characteristics have to be present in order for a sin to be a mortal sin.  Mortal sin separates us from God and takes away sanctifying grace, the grace that allows us to go to heaven.  Mortal sin is ordinarily removed by sacramental confession, though it could be removed if we had perfect contrition (though I’m not sure you want to take a chance that you had perfect contrition if you have the chance to go to confession).  The Church teaches that if a person were to die in a state of mortal sin, we do not know a way that that person could go to heaven.
    But, some may espouse the view that if we are in mortal sin, God stops loving us.  Or that, if we are in mortal sin, we should stop praying, because God won’t hear our prayers anyway, since we’re not in a state of grace.  But that’s not what our Gospel shows us today.  Who knows if the sin Peter thought of was mortal or venial.  But to fall on his knees makes me believe that there was something big, maybe even just his lack of faith in our Lord’s command.  Still, the Savior doesn’t say, “Sorry, I can’t hear you; your sin is blocking my hearing.”  The Savior doesn’t say, “You should have thought about the consequences before you chose to do what you did.”  The Savior didn’t say, “I can’t love you if you choose to sin.”  Our Lord told Peter not to be afraid, and called him to mission as His Apostle.
    We shouldn’t give sin more power than it has.  We shouldn’t give sin more power than God, which is what we do if we think that God stops loving us or God cannot hear us or will not answer our prayers if we are not in a state of grace.  Anything good only happens by the grace of God, including repentance.  Otherwise, we fall into a kind of semi-Pelagianism, where we earn our own salvation.  Feeling sorry for what we have done can only happen by God’s grace.  The movement towards the confessional can only happen by God’s grace.  And God does not stop being our loving Father when we have been sinful children.  
    Think about it in human terms.  If your child comes to you with an obviously broken arm, but is also covered in mud, do you make your child shower off before you address the broken arm?  Do you yell at the child because he’s making the house a mess when your child just wants you to take care of his fracture?  Do you tell your child you won’t listen to her request until she takes off her dirty clothes and cleans up the mud she has tracked into the house?  “‘If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heaven Father give good things to those who ask him?’”  
    Now, this is not to ignore sin, or say that mortal sin is no big deal.  Some of the saints have said that they would rather have excruciating pain than commit a mortal sin.  But if we fall, do not push the Father away because you feel unworthy.  To be clear, you are not worthy.  But the Father doesn’t care about your worthiness.  He cares about your salvation, and will do whatever He can to affect your healing.  
    And, having been healed, the Lord also wants us to become fishers of men.  Some are called to be fishers of men in the sense of a call to a vocation to the priesthood, where they will join others to Christ through the Sacraments, especially Holy Baptism, Holy Penance, and the Most Holy Eucharist, though certainly the other sacraments as well.  But God calls all of us to seek out those who have strayed from their Catholic faith and to invite in those who are not Catholic so that they can have union with Christ and His Mystical Body, the Church, so that they can be saved.  Is it possible to be saved without baptism, or without full union with the one Church that Christ founded?  God can save people however He wants.  However, our more certain way towards heaven is through the narrow way that Christ shows us through what He teaches us in the Scriptures and in the Church.  How sad it would be if others missed out on salvation, or maybe even just had a longer time in Purgatory because we were unwilling to invite them to become Catholic, or to return to the practice of the faith of their childhood.  
    Does that mean that all whom we invite will accept the invitation?  No.  Sadly, sometimes when we present people with the joy of following Christ, they walk away.  It happened in the Gospel; it will happen in our interactions with others.  But woe to us if we do not at least invite people convincingly and joyfully show them how much we love Christ and how it makes our life more fulfilling.
    Our Lord did not depart from Peter when he acknowledged his sinfulness.  Our Lord does not depart from us when we sin.  May we do all we can to avoid sin, especially mortal sin.  But if we do fall, may we run back to our loving Father and trust in His mercy.  And then, strengthened by His mercy, may we invite others to run to the Father and His merciful love, and find the joy and peace that all people desire, because they are made in the image and likeness of God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.   

Angry Woman Meme

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    It’s a little old now, but there’s a famous meme where a woman is sitting at a table, yelling and pointing, while a white cat, sitting at the table, ostensibly across from her, has a snarky look on its face.  People put in all sorts of dialogues between the woman and the cat, some of which are pretty funny.  If I were to make a meme based on today’s readings, the woman would say, “God calls sinners!”, while the cat would respond, “He calls them to repent.”  
    After all, in all three readings, we hear about sinners whom God calls.  In the first reading, God calls Isaiah to be His prophet, to speak for Him.  But Isaiah knows that he is a sinner.  So he says, “‘Woe is me, I am doomed!  For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips!’”  In the second reading, St. Paul acknowledges that he is not worthy to be called an apostle, because he persecuted the Church.  And finally, in the Gospel, Jesus calls St. Peter to follow Him, but Peter demurs, saying, “‘Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.’”  
    God knows that Isaiah, and St. Paul, and St. Peter, were all sinners.  God’s omniscience cannot be fooled.  But He does call each of them to do His will: Isaiah to speak for God as His prophet; St. Peter to be the first pope and head of the apostolic college; St. Paul to be the Apostle to the Gentiles.  And with each person–Isaiah and Peter and Paul–God offers them His mercy.  Isaiah receives an ember, touched to his lips, which takes away his sins.  Jesus asks St. Peter three times if he loves Him, and then gives Peter the mission of caring for Jesus’ flock.  St. Paul, who loses his sight when he encounters the Lord on the road to Damascus, regains his sight and is baptized through a follower of Jesus, Ananias.  
    So yes, God calls sinners.  And yes, He forgives their sins.  But He does so in order that they repent and change their ways, which is exactly what Isaiah and St. Peter and St. Paul did.  They left behind what the old man in them, the old Adam, to be exact, and they put on the new man, the new Adam, Jesus Christ, and lived according to His will, rather than their own.  God didn’t call them to Himself so that they could go back to their old ways.  God didn’t want Isaiah to use his speech for sinful matters.  God didn’t want St. Peter to go back to fishing.  God didn’t want St. Paul to return to persecuting His Church.  He met them where they were at, yes, but He led them to a new place, a new mission.

His Eminence, Francis Cardinal George

    In our laziness, our sloth, we can miss that second part.  We’re very happy that God meets us as we are.  It warms our heart that God would choose us, sinners though we are, to share in His life.  But when it comes to leaving the past behind, and going where God wants, no longer just where we want to go, we balk at the change and choose to remain in our past.  This is why so many people love the horrid hymn “All Are Welcome.”  It’s the first part of the call of Jesus to any person.  He welcomes sinners and tax collectors to dine with Him; that is true.  He does not condemn the woman caught in adultery, or the Samaritan woman at the well.  But the story doesn’t end there.  He tells them not to sin anymore, and gives them, by His presence, what they need to change their life to conform to His.  It is as His Eminence, Francis Cardinal George, used to say, “All are welcome, but on Christ’s terms, not their own.”  
    Today, as we admitted Jenna, Raegan, and Skyler to the Order of Catechumens, we saw the witness of one whom Christ called.  Ladies, you, like all of us before we were baptized, have original sin.  Original sin is an obstacle that following God as He desires.  But God has overcome that obstacle to invite you to follow Him by becoming a disciple of Jesus Christ.  God met you where you were, but now He calls you deeper into relationship with Him, to put out into the deep waters that might be scary, and which take you way from anything in your past which is not of God.  But He doesn’t leave you alone as you put out into the deep waters. He goes with you, and we also, now that you are a catechumen, promise to support you, pray for you, and help you as you prepare for baptism, confirmation, and the Eucharist.  
    We stand before you as those whom the Lord has also called, though we are sinners.  And we do not claim that we follow Christ perfectly.  But each time we fall, each time we sin, Christ reaches out for us again, and encourages us to put that behind us as He forgives us in the Sacrament of Penance, and strengthens us to say yes to Him and no to anything contrary to Him and His teachings.  He has called us, too, to deep waters, and sometimes we fear to go with Him, but He calls us, and we hope to follow as best as we can.
    Because the Lord doesn’t want us to wallow in our sins of the past.  He doesn’t want us going back there because our sins don’t give us life.  They don’t give us happiness.  They don’t allow us to be the people He has called us to be.  Only by following Christ, by making His life our own, by living according to what He has taught us through the Scriptures and the Church can we truly be happy and be fully ready for heaven at the end our life.
    So you, and we, are sinners.  And God has called you, and us, to leave that sinfulness behind.  He desires to burn away our sins like with the Prophet Isaiah; to open our eyes like St. Paul; to call us to leave behind our old way of life like St. Peter.  May you, and we, have the courage to answer that call, repent, and be faithful to the Gospel.

Duc In Altum

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  “Duc in altum!  These words ring out for us today, and they invite us to remember the past with gratitude, to live the present with enthusiasm and to look forward to the future with confidence: ‘Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and for ever.’”  Pope St. John Paul II penned these words in his Apostolic Letter, Novo millennio ineunte at the close of the Great Jubilee Year 2000.  While he wrote these words for a particular time, now almost a quarter of a century ago, they still ring true today.  And every time I read or hear this Gospel–especially in this Mass where the Latin words that the saintly pontiff used are proclaimed in the same Latin, the mother tongue of the Church in Rome–I draw back to this document which closed an exciting and reinvigorating time in the Church’s history
    Over the past school years, I have assisted the Michigan State Police with training in a tank for those who show interest in joining the MSP and preparing them for what they might experience for water safety.  Most people would call where we do this a pool, but in the State Police a pool is where you have fun, and we were not about having fun during this training, so we swam in a tank.  I’m a decent swimmer, but it has pushed me as the other staff challenged me to push a brick at the bottom of the tank from one side to another; to open my eyes under water while I’m swimming; to tread water for fifteen or more minutes while passing a 10-pound brick hand over hand to the other people treading water in a circle; to allow another to rescue me as a simulated being a drowning victim, and entrusting my life into their training.  It gave me some trepidation at times, but I’m still here, and no one has ever drowned in this training.  
    I mention that because putting out into the deep (which is what duc in altum means) when it comes to our faith came seem as challenging as tank training was for me.  It pushes us beyond our comfort zone; it makes us develop new skills; it sometimes even tires us.  But just as it was in the year 2000, as it also was in the year 1500, as it also was in the year 1000, as it was on the birth of the Church at Pentecost, so today our mission is to welcome Christ into our boat, and put out into deep waters in order to make a miraculous catch.
    Note that previous failure does not suffice for an excuse against putting out into the deep.  St. Peter, who was Pope St. John Paul II’s 263rd predecessor, had tried fishing all night, but without any luck.  But he didn’t have the Lord with him, which was the reason for his abysmal performance at his life’s trade.  So with us: when we try to share the Gospel without Christ, we will find little, if any, success.  It might seem an oxymoron to share the Gospel without Christ, since the Gospel is the good news of our Lord’s saving life, death, and resurrection.  But do we bring our missionary activity to Christ first in prayer, before we talk to others about Him?  Is our life based in daily prayer that draws us closer to the Lord, and undergirds all of our evangelical action?  Even with the best arguments and the best intellectual exchanges, conversion is only possible by the power of grace.  Do we commend someone to God’s grace after we have shared the Gospel with them?  Without Christ, we catch nothing.  With Christ, we can’t even bring in all that He desires for us.
    This Gospel also encourages us to keep in my our own sinfulness.  Whenever we see the Lord do a great work, it should remind us to say, with that timeless hymn, “O Lord, I am not worthy.”  The power of Christ is most made manifest when we acknowledge our own weakness, the same now as when God told St. Paul, “My power is made manifest in weakness.”  Or, to paraphrase the Apostle to the Gentiles elsewhere, we are simply earthen vessels that God uses, so that the power may truly be known to come from God and not from us.  When we are able to let “Jesus take the wheel,” as the great Carrie Underwood sings, we can go and do things that we could never do if we relegate the Lord to the spot of a co-pilot.  To quote a bumper sticker I saw once, “If Jesus is your co-pilot, you’re in the wrong seat.”  Yes, we have to work with God, but let God use you to accomplish his work; don’t try to use God to approve your own plans and work.
    Lastly, our Lord encourages Peter after he admitted his unworthiness to be with the Lord, “Be not afraid.”  Fear of spreading the Gospel because we don’t think we know our Scripture well enough, or because we can’t easily spout off all or any of St. Thomas Aquinas’s erudite arguments from the Summa Theologiae, or because we don’t follow Christ perfectly ourselves does not come from God.  Yes, we should engage in Bible studies; yes, we should study the Angelic Doctor and other Church fathers and scholars, as our gifts allow; yes, we are sinners who do not always live up to the message we preach.  But God doesn’t ask us to have the entire Bible memorized, or any theological work, or to live perfectly before we evangelize.  He encourages us to be not afraid, and allow Him to work through us.  If we don’t know something, we can look it up afterwards and follow up on another’s questions.  And there is a real power in sharing with another person that you want to live as Christ commands, but you don’t always do it (which is probably where that other person will be in his or her life as a disciple anyway).  But don’t let fear keep you on the shore; don’t let past failures keep you from the greatness that God wants to accomplish with your cooperation.  
    As we prepare to enter this next Jubilee Year, 2025, which has as its theme Pilgrims of Hope, may we listen to the call of Pope St. John Paul II and not be afraid to put out into the deep, sharing the hope we have because of our faith in the Lord Jesus, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen. 

No Karma for Catholics

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time/Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]. Over the past few years people of all and no faiths have started to buy into this idea of karma.  Whether what is shared is actually the Hindu view of karma or not, I’m not sure, but the basic statement is that if someone does good, then good things will happen to that person.  More often than not, it’s invoked when someone does something bad to a person, and that person hopes something bad will happen back to the other. 

Prophet Jeremiah

   Catholics do not believe in karma.  Nor should we espouse it so blithely.  In our/the Ordinary Form first reading, we hear the prophet Jeremiah talk about his former friends trying to trap him and cause his problems.  Jeremiah does call out to God for retribution, and has confidence that God will take care of things.  But bad things did happen to Jeremiah.  He was thrown into a partly-dry well, and no one listened to him.  What had Jeremiah done to deserve such horrible treatment?  What horrendous things must he have committed in order for “karma” to treat him so poorly?  Jeremiah spoke God’s word.  He did nothing wrong (beyond the daily small sins of any person).  The word God sent Jeremiah to preach was not a popular word, because it was the word of judgement on a people who had rejected God.  But if karma is true, then Jeremiah should have experienced nothing but good things, since he was doing good.  But that’s not what happened.
    Or take St. Paul.  In Romans, chapter 8, [the pericope we heard today], St. Paul says that the sufferings of this time are as nothing compared to the glory that is to be revealed.  St. Paul had done some bad stuff (he had persecuted Christians and consented to the martyrdom of St. Stephen).  But by the time he’s writing this epistle, he’s been doing God’s work for a while, preaching the Gospel, working miracles, and encouraging young communities to follow the Lord.  According to karma, everything should be enjoyable; there shouldn’t be sufferings.  But, of course, there were.  In fact, St. Paul continues that all creation is groaning as it awaits for the fullness of redemption in Christ. 
    Christ, of course, is the nail in the coffin when it comes to the idea of karma.  Christ was sinless.  He did no wrong.  And yet He suffered immense pain and agony.  So, hopefully we can put to rest this idea of karma, and that good things happen to those who do good, while bad things happen to those who do bad.  Those who follow God’s will often have to suffer, and sometimes there is no immediate justice for those who do wrong.  There are many who lie, cheat, sleep around, and have no real practice of religion, and they seem to get richer and richer, not have any problems, and continue to thrive while those who try their best to follow God’s law of freedom have to struggle daily to make ends meet, and have problems with sometimes even the basic realities of life.
    So what do we do?  We stay faithful, even when it’s hard.  We follow the law of the Gospel and the teachings of the Church, even when they seem unpopular, and even when we are persecuted, because, as our Lord says in the Gospel according to St. Matthew [that we heard today], God cares even for the sparrows, and we are worth much more than many sparrows. 
    When Christ invites us to live a certain way or to follow Him somewhere, our best response is to follow His lead and do what He says.  It may sometimes seem counterintuitive, like when Christ asked Peter to put out into the deep waters to make a catch of fish, even though Peter had been fishing the entire night before and had caught nothing.  But when we respond with the obedience of faith, Christ can do things beyond our imagining.  The miracle where St. Peter caught all those fish was not about the fish: it was about God not being outdone when we follow Him.  Sometimes it happens immediately, like with St. Peter.  Sometimes it takes longer.  Sometimes we may not even see the results on this side of eternity.  But God rewards faithfulness, and especially when it is tough.
    And it’s tough for Catholics now, and probably will get tougher in the future.  Last week the LA Dodgers honored a group of anti-Catholic cross-dressers who openly mock the beautiful lives and work of religious sisters.  Those who remain faithful to the Church’s teaching that homosexual acts are gravely sinful and contrary to God’s plan for human sexuality are called bigots and homophobes.  Our own Michigan Supreme Court wants to make a rule that says that a person is to be identified by whatever terminology that person decides, regardless of reality, and our governor openly brags about how easy it is to murder innocent children in the womb and says that people should move to Michigan because of that ease of access to infanticide.  These aren’t so much political issues as they are moral.  We now find ourselves in a culture that is more pagan than the height of the Roman Empire. 
    God calls us to be Jeremiahs, those who speak His word, no matter what those who called themselves friends do to us, no matter what privileges and popularity society grabs from us, no matter what names and epithets others give to us.  We do this, not because of karma, not because bad people will get bad things in their lifetime, but because God’s word is life and truth, and living according to the truth brings happiness, while living according to lies, no matter how popular, brings sorrow.  God gives us the Eucharist to strengthen us so that we have the courage and energy to remain faithful to Him. 
    That is why it is so important to go to Mass each Sunday and holyday: without the Eucharist, the devil can more easily persuade us with his lies to dive into the culture of death.  The Eucharist is our lembas bread (Elvish bread from Lord of the Rings which sustained those who ate it much longer than it looked like it could) which fills our soul to press on, no matter how hard the journey. 

    Whether we like it or not, bad things do not always happen to bad people; good things do not always happen to good people.  Sometimes staying faithful to God means losing friends, power, and prestige.  But, we cannot imagine the good things that God has in store for us if we remain faithful to Him: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Identifying with St. Peter

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  This Gospel passage that we heard today is one of my favorites.  I have always enjoyed hearing the stories about St. Peter from the Gospel, probably because I find myself like St. Peter at so many parts of my life: cynical, questioning, a leader, a spokesman, chastised, moments of greatness, moments of great weakness, redemption, and more.  In today’s Gospel we have a number of those moments.

    At the beginning we see our Lord simply commandeer, as it were, St. Peter’s boat.  Christ gets in, and Peter takes him to the water so that Christ can preach to the crowds.  In reflecting, this is the movement of grace in our own lives.  There are moments when we are open to God’s grace of which we’re not even aware.  But there is an openness, because the grace of God does not go where it’s not welcomed.  Still, it may be an implicit welcome, one of which we’re not fully aware.  One type of grace that exemplifies this is prevenient grace.  Prevenient grace is the grace that literally “comes before,” which draws us to God even when we don’t feel like we want to be close to God.  This is the grace that pushes us to confession when we have sinned.  This is the grace that opens us up so that other types of God’s grace can fill us and compel us to do great things for the Lord.  Nothing good happens simply by our willing it.  Anything good that we can do is a result of God’s grace.  Somehow, St. Peter was open to our Lord taking over at that moment, and so He did.
    But next, Christ asks something that seems contrary to our understanding.  In the case of our Gospel, even though Peter had been fishing all night, Christ tells him to put out into deep waters for a catch.  We hear a bit of the cynicism in Peter’s first words, saying that they had been fishing all night.  Our Lord was a carpenter and a rabbi.  He was not a fishing expert.  Peter was the fishing expert, being told what to do by someone who had no knowledge of the trade.  It would be as if I told an engineer, or auto mechanic how to do their job.  How many times in our life does our Lord ask something of us, something that we don’t feel makes any sense, or seems contrary to our experience, and we, at least at first, balk at His suggestion?
    But Peter does cast his nets, and he not only catches some fish, he catches so many fish he has to call other boats, and even with their help the boats almost sink, so laden are they with the plethora of fish.  You can imagine St. Peter’s draw dropping.  You can almost hear him say, “But…but…but…”.  We may sometimes think that God can do small stuff, can effect small changes, or changes that gradually occur over time.  But sometimes God wants to make big changes, to exhibit His omnipotence, His power over everything.  Think of your own life: when has God done something large and unexpected for you?
    And then, in that moment where God shows us what He can do, we are aware of that earlier cynicism, that earlier doubt that we expressed, maybe in our words, maybe only in our hearts.  And we recognize that we are sinners, unworthy of the presence of the Lord.  St. Peter said, “‘Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.’”  Maybe our version is, “Lord, you can find someone better for this.  I’m not the person you need or want.  There are others more qualified than I for what you’re seeking.”  
    Notice what Christ doesn’t say.  He doesn’t say, “You’re right, there are other people more qualified than you.”  He doesn’t say, “See?  You shouldn’t have doubted.”  Not even a “C’mon, man!”  Christ simply says, “Be not afraid,” and then tells Peter he will be catching men in the future, not fish.  As a side note, Christ’s words are quite prophetic, as St. Peter, in the rest of the Gospels from this point on, can never seem to catch a fish without Jesus making it happen.
    One of the treasures of the Gospels is that they so often mirror our life.  We read these passages, and then think of times in our own life that seem eerily familiar.  They’re not ever exactly the same, but there’s a similar theme or pattern.  And I’m sure this is true with this passage for more people here than just me.  How many times have we doubted God, then God does something great, and our response is to pull back, to try to shrink away because we are ashamed of our lack of faith?  But God doesn’t condemn us; He strengthens us and tells us to do something great ourselves.
    But again, Peter is one of those people who needs lessons to be taught again and again and again.  He has his moments of greatness, but usually they are followed by a quick fall afterwards.  Think of Matthew 16 where He proclaims that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.  Our Lord blesses Peter and gives him the keys to the kingdom of heaven, promising to build His Church upon Peter and making Peter the first pope.  And then, a few verses later, after our Lord announced His Passion, Peter tells Christ, “That’s not the plan,” to which Christ responds, “Get behind me, Satan.”  Later in the Gospels, the Pharisees will ask Peter if Christ pays the temple tax, and, without consulting, Peter says He does.  But Christ points out how this makes no sense, since He is the Lord of the temple.  But then He helps Peter catch a fish that will pay the temple tax for both Peter and Christ.  We are all aware of Peter swearing that He will never abandon the Lord, even if everyone else does, and hours later denying that he even knows Christ.  In John 21, to make up for the denial, our Lord asks Peter three times if he loves Him.  And then Peter is commanded to care for the Church, and is told that He will die by others dressing him and leading him where he does not want to go.  And even after that great dialogue, Peter starts to wonder about John and what will happen to him, and our Lord has to tell Peter not to worry, but simply to follow Him.  And lastly, even right before his martyrdom, St. Peter seeks to leave Rome as Nero’s persecution is intensifying.  But exiting Rome on the Appian Way, Peter sees Christ walking towards Rome, and asks, “Domine, quo vadis?”–“Lord, where are you going?”  The Lord tells Peter that He is going to be crucified a second time, and at that moment, Peter realizes that he cannot leave Rome, but must suffer for Christ, and ends up being crucified upside down.

From the Church Domine Quo Vadis in Rome

     

Do not be afraid if you don’t always understand the ways in which God works.  Do not be afraid if you sometimes wonder if the Lord can do great things in your life.  Do not be afraid when you realize He can, and you recognize your sinfulness.  If our Lord can work with Peter, He can work with you.  “Be not afraid” and follow our Lord’s invitation, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Duc In Altum

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

One of my favorite saints has always been St. Peter.  No, I don’t want to be pope (being a pastor is enough responsibility for me!), but I like St. Peter.  He’s one of the great apostles of Jesus, who always has great things to say, unless he’s putting his foot in his mouth (as he also often does).  He is, we might say, very relatable.  I’d like to believe that I have had great moments of faith and trust in God (even if great is a sliding scale), but I also know that I have had my own outbreaks of foot-in-mouth disease.

And since I like St. Peter so much, today’s Gospel is one of my favorites.  It’s St. Luke talking about how St. Peter was called by Jesus.  St. Peter (still going by Simon at this point) is fishing all night and catching nothing (side note: have you ever noticed that St. Peter is never able to catch fish on his own?!?).  Then Jesus, who, from all outside views, knows nothing about fishing, tells him to go out again, and put into deep waters.  St. Peter begrudgingly does this, and then catches so many fish that he has to call his partners, James and John (who also became apostles), to help him drag it in.  St. Peter realizes that he is in the presence of someone special, someone great, and makes a confession of his own sinfulness.  Jesus tells him not to be afraid, because he will be catching men from now on.

When others hear this story, they sometimes ask me how I came to follow Jesus as a priest.  And certainly, all of our readings focus on calls: on the call of Isaiah to be a prophet; the call of St. Paul to preach the Gospel as the last apostle; and, as I mentioned, the call of St. Peter to follow Jesus as one, and the chief, of His apostles.  

Some priests I know have amazing stories like St. Peter of Jesus doing something great and spectacular in their lives.  But for me, that’s not the case.  As an eighth grader, I started thinking about what I wanted to do as an adult (so that I could concentrate on the right classes in high school, get into a good college in a field in which I wanted, and then get a good job).  If it were up to me, I wanted to be a lawyer, and then maybe go into politics.  I wanted to be married, have a few kids, a couple of dogs, and have lots of money.  But I knew that if I were going to be happy, I had to do what God wanted me to do.  So I started praying to God each night, asking Him to let me know.  And I heard nothing.  

So I started to go to daily Mass a few times at Lansing Catholic High School, and it was there that a stranger asked me if I were going to be a priest.  And other classmates and teachers started to do the same thing.  And before long, I started to realize that maybe God was asking me to consider a vocation to the priesthood.  I started to learn more about Catholicism, and fell in love with the Church, as one falls in love with his girlfriend.  And I decided that I wanted to give my life to serve her, just as a man decides (and hopefully the woman agrees) that he wants to give his life to serve the woman he wants to be his wife.  I applied to the seminary in my senior year through the Diocese of Lansing, and was accepted for my freshman year of college.  Each year I asked God to make it painfully clear if He didn’t want me to continue on.  And each year, I was asked to come back and continue studying to become a priest.  It wasn’t always easy; there were times where I thought (with the assistance of a rather attractive female lab partner) that maybe the priesthood wasn’t for me; but God did and has sustained me in my vocation.  God’s providential care for me has been more in the day-to-day events of life, not so much in the spectacular, like St. Peter.

But God knows what we need in responding to His call.  Some people don’t need the dramatic moments.  Some people do.  The key is that we are listening for the call of Jesus, and we respond with courage to the call of Jesus.  Because Jesus says to anyone who wants to follow Him, “Put out into deep water.”  In Latin that phrase is Duc in altum, and it was used by Pope St. John Paul II as he began his Apostolic Letter on the new millennium in 2001.  It was also a favorite of Bishop Mengeling, who told us seminarians not to dangle our toes in the water, but to put out into deep water.

Any vocational call–ordained ministry, marriage, consecrated life–and even while discerning God’s call, takes courage.  It takes faith in God, and confidence that He will show you the way.  As a priest it takes courage to serve when a very small percentage have tainted the good name of the priesthood, and it takes courage to say yes to never having a wife and a biological family of your own.  As a consecrated man or woman it takes courage to promise to not have any personal bank accounts and to be obedient to the religious congregation’s superiors.  As a married man or woman, it takes courage to commit to only being with one person in the special friendship of marriage for your entire life, to only be physically intimate with that person as long as that person lives.  Any vocation, and, again, even when trying to find out what God wants us to do, takes the courage to put out into deep waters and trust that God will not abandon us in those waters.

Many of you already have discerned your vocation here.  But some of you have not.  Be courageous in answering the Lord’s call, whatever it is, in your life.  Some of you may have spectacular calls like St. Peter.  Some of you will have more quotidian or ordinary calls like me.  But don’t be afraid to answer it.  Duc in altum!

Encountering God

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

I am a planner.  And so, after I was confirmed in eighth grade, I started to think about what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I was thinking about that because I was about to enter high school, and I wanted to make sure that I did well in the classes in that general field, so I could get into a good college so that I could get the job I wanted.  Because I was in a Catholic school, and had been since kindergarten, I knew that if I was going to be happy in my job, it had to be what God wanted me to do.  So I started to pray every day, asking God what He wanted me to do with my life.  I heard no answer, and was a bit frustrated that God was not answering me when I wanted.

So, once I started going to Lansing Catholic High School, I started to go to Mass on weekdays in addition to Sunday, figuring that I would force God to answer me.  One day, at Mass, the priest was a little late, and a nun, that didn’t really know that well, told me that when I became a priest, I should never be late.  In addition, friends of mine kept suggesting that I should be a priest or wondering if that’s what I wanted to do.  Though I was sure I wanted to be married, have kids, and maybe enter a profession in law, I decided to look into the priesthood, and asked priests I knew what it was like to be a priest.

I started, at that moment, to fall in love, not with a girl, but with the church.  The more I knew about her, even with her imperfections, the more I knew I wanted to serve her and dedicate my entire life to her.  I petitioned Bishop Mengeling to enter college seminary after I graduated from high school.  My love for the church continued to grow, and I continued to want to serve God’s people, especially through the sacramental life of the Church, as I progressed through seminary.  It wasn’t always easy, and there were times that I considered leaving, especially my senior year of college seminary, where I was sure the beautiful Catholic girl in my astronomy class was a sign from God that I should get married.  But the Lord helped me to see that I would be truly happy by being a priest.

I tell that story because we should all have a story to tell when it comes to our relationship with God.  It’s not just for priests or religious brothers or sisters.  Maybe it’s not a vocation story, like mine, but hopefully we all have a story of a time that God interacted with us in our lives.  Today we hear about Isaiah’s encounter with God the Father and Simon Peter’s encounter with Jesus.  Those are certainly powerful stories, with major moments that God breaks through in their lives.  But it doesn’t always happen that way.  In my own life, I have rarely had “mountaintop experiences,” and, while they do happen, for many people there are no major moments, but, rather, they see how God led them through different aspects of their life.

Mary, who was confirmed Saturday evening at Mass, has her story of what led her to the Catholic faith.  Damian, Deanna, and Jake, our catechumens, will be sent to the Rite of Election this weekend.  They have their own stories of what led them to the Catholic faith and their relationship with God.  I invite you to think about your own life of faith.  Where has God interacted with you?  Again, it may not be a big moment, but hopefully you can think of a way that God has guided you in a way you understood.  If you don’t, I encourage you to spend time in prayer with God, read the Gospels, maybe go to the Men’s or Women’s Conference in the next year, go on a retreat like Cursillo or another retreat that the Diocese of Lansing offers.  That will help you to think back on a way that God has led you, or maybe will give you your first experience of God interacting with you in your life in a way you recognize.

God calls us and interacts with us throughout our life.  May we look for the ways that God encounters us and we encounter God, and, as we find them, listen to the voice of Jesus who tells us, as he told Simon Peter, “‘Be not afraid.’”

"Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?"

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            In my work in our parish school, and on the monthly occasions when I teach theology at Lansing Catholic high school, I have found that generally students fall into one of two categories when you ask them a question.  The first type of student is the “pick me, pick me!” students who can barely control themselves because they know the answer and they want to prove it.  The other type of student is the “Dear God, do not let Fr. Anthony call on me!” students who try to avoid eye contact and would rather do just about anything than be forced to answer a question, whether they know the right answer or not.

            We appear to have both types of people in our first reading and our Gospel today.  Isaiah is like the first type of student.  As Isaiah is caught up in ecstasy, seeing a vision of God on the throne with the Seraphim and the heavenly hosts, with incense rising, he is at first made aware of his sinfulness, but then, having been cleansed, he is all-too-ready to respond when the Lord asks, “‘Whom shall I send?  Who will go for us?’” 

            In our Gospel, we see the second type of student in the person of St. Peter.  He is reluctant, doesn’t think he can succeed (both at fishing and at being a disciple), is all too aware of his sinfulness, and does not want to be called on.  But the Lord still chooses him, and, as we know the rest of the story, Jesus chooses Him to lead His Church as the first pope.

            God still calls.  Jesus still calls.  The Lord still asks, “Whom shall I send?  Who will go for us?”  Jesus still asks us to be His disciples and put out into the deep waters.  Are we the type of person who says with Isaiah, “‘Here I am…send me!’”, or are we the type of person who says with St. Peter, “‘Depart from me, Lord, for I am…sinful’”?  In both cases, God is calling us.

            Some of you single men out there in the pews God is calling to be a priest.  I am sure of it!  God is calling you to abandon the safety and security of doing what only you think is best, and to follow Jesus in a new way, to conform your life to His, to be conformed through the Sacrament of Holy Order to Jesus the Priest so that His people can continue to be fed and nourished by the grace of the sacraments, especially the Sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist.  Without priests, the People of God will not have their sins forgiven, nor will they be able to be so closely united to Jesus through Holy Communion. 

            Some of you single men or single women out there in the pews God is calling to be a consecrated brother or sister, or consecrated virgin.  Some of you God is calling to leave everything behind and to live out by the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience in a religious community the life of Jesus who was poor, chaste, and obedient to the Father’s will.  Some of you women who have preserved as a treasured gift your virginity are called to consecrate your virginity to God, to hand it over to Him and to be espoused to Jesus Christ, the Divine Bridegroom for all eternity, even as you live in the world.

            Many of you men and women out there in the pews God is calling or has called to be married and be parents.  Others of you are single.  God is no less calling you to be holy.  In fact, God is calling you in a special way to sanctify the world by your presence, in ways that priests, religious, and consecrated virgins are not called.  God needs you to fill society with the leaven of the Gospel: your homes, your workplace, your rest, your vacation, politics, so that the City of Man looks more and more like the City of God.  God calls you to offer every part of your life to Him as an acceptable sacrifice, as Lumen gentium from the Second Vatican Council reminds us: “For all [the laity’s] works, prayers and apostolic endeavors, their ordinary married and family life, their daily occupations, their physical and mental relaxation, if carried out in the Spirit, and even the hardships of life, if patiently borne—all these become ‘spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.’”  Without you, providing an example of holiness of life and fidelity to the teachings of God through His Church, the faith is not passed on, and people do not treasure the pearl of great price that a relationship with God is.

            Maybe we’re afraid that we’re too sinful.  So was Isaiah, so was St. Peter.  Maybe we don’t think we have what it takes.  If Isaiah or St. Peter knew everything that was ahead of them, they may have turned back.  But day-by-day they were strengthened by God to preach the Gospel, so others could believe.  This Wednesday we begin Lent.  Use this holy time to draw closer to the Lord, to learn more about Him, to get to know Him so that you are comfortable saying “yes” to Him.  All of the things we do—the fasting, the abstaining from meat, the giving up of certain good things, the extra acts of penance—all of these are meant to open us up so that it is easier for us to say “yes” to God.  It is all too easy to just do the “Lent thing” again.  Don’t waste your precious time just floating by.  Put out into deep waters!  Is it scary?  In some ways, yes!  It calls for radical trust in God to actually live according to the Gospel.  But Jesus won’t let you sink amid the waves of sea.  He will help you to make a great catch; He will help you to spread His Word that brings people happiness, and saves them from eternal death.  In the Holy Name of God I ask: Whom shall we send?  Who will go for us?  What is your answer?