Obedience

Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion

    On Sunday, 17 March, before celebrating Mass on St. Patrick’s Day here at St. Matthew, while in the sacristy, Bishop Boyea had me make a Profession of Faith and take the Oath of Fidelity, which are required for me based upon my recent appointment as the Dean of the Flint Deanery.  He had not prepared me that this was going to happen, and perhaps that made the moment even weightier. 
    The Profession of Faith has me begin by professing the words of the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, and then stating that I believe everything contained in God’s Word, written or handed down, in the ordinary and universal Magisterium, firmly accept all that the Church definitively teaches for faith and morals, and will submit my will and intellect to the teachings of the Roman Pontiff or the college of bishops when they exercise the authentic Magisterium. 
    The Oath of Fidelity has me promise that I will preserve communion with the Catholic Church, hold fast to and hand on the deposit of faith, and avoid anything contrary to it.  I also promise to observe all ecclesiastical laws.  Lastly, I said, “In Christian obedience I shall unite myself with what is declared by the bishops as authentic doctors and teachers of the faith or established by them as those responsible for the governance of the Church;” and assist the diocesan bishops in carrying out the apostolic activity in communion with the Church.  The Oath of Fidelity closes with, “So help me God, and God’s holy Gospels, on which I place my hand.”  Those last words, in particular, really weighed upon me, not so much as a burden, as a recognition of just how serious the office is to which I was appointed.

Calvary in Jerusalem

    I thought of that obedience for today when meditating upon what our Savior did for us.  The obedience I promised imitates the obedience that Christ demonstrated usque ad mortem, even unto death.  But that obedience was not just God the Father imposing His will against the will of God the Son.  That obedience was an act of love, willingly endured for the sake of Christ’s beloved–the human race–from the creation of man until the return of Christ in glory at the end of time.  Yes, Christ’s human nature, as seen in the Garden of Gethsemane, desired not to drink from the chalice that the Father presented to our Lord, but He drank from it out of love, and knowing that whatever the Father wills is for good. 
    Our society struggles (to put it lightly) with obedience.  And while recognizing the legitimate times that one should refuse the will of others when asked to do something against Divine Law or Natural Law, we find all sorts of reasons to disobey even without those legitimate times.  And perhaps this is because we do not trust enough and we do not love enough.  Our fallen wills balk when someone asks us to do something that does not delight us, unless we can see a higher good.
    For this year, it would be good to think about how obedient we are: first to God, then to the Church, then to others who exercise legitimate authority.  The model of Christ reminds us that love submits to the will of the Father because of the trust that the Father will not abandon us, no matter how bad things get.
    And things may get bad.  The agony of the cross was no small thing.  Besides the physical pain, there was the spiritual pain of the eclipse of God’s love and favor that are the consequences of all sins from all time.  But Christ could still follow through and not call upon His army of angels to make it all stop because He trusted the Father; He loved the Father.
    How much do we love the Father?  How much do we trust the Father?  The more we love God and trust God, the more we will submit our wills to His and allow His plan to work itself out, no matter how painful and dark it may seem.  But remember, the pain and the darkness, both of today and of our individual acts of obedience, are not the end.  Yes, today we mourn in sorrow,  but obedience bears fruit that not even death can hold back.  But to bear that fruit, we have to plant the seeds of obedience.  “So help me God, and God’s holy Gospels.”

First Weekend Message

 Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time-St. Matthew
 

   So it’s my first weekend here, my first chance to preach the Word of God to you as your new pastor.  As I looked forward to this day, I was hoping for really good readings that would talk about being a good shepherd, or encouraging the disciples, or something very uplifting.  What did I actually get for the first reading?  “Son of man, I am sending you to the Israelites, rebels who have rebelled against me; they and they ancestors have revolted against me to this very day.  Hard of face and obstinate of heart are they to whom I am sending you.”  
    Well, certainly the second reading should be better.  “Therefore, I am content with weakness, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ.”  Great
    Well, the Gospel is always good.  It’s got to have an upbeat message.  “When the sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished.  They said, ‘Where did this man get all of this?’…And they took offense at him.”  Lovely.
    But, I’m told to preach on the Word of God in the homily, so I’ll work with what I have.  I am not presuming that you are revolting against God, or hard of heart.  I certainly hope that I won’t have to put up with many insults, hardships, persecutions, or constraints.  And I hope you do not take offense at me.  
    But I can also tell you that I am not a perfect pastor.  Neither was Fr. Tom, or even, dare I say it, Fr. Taggert.  So if you were hoping for a perfect pastor who will never make any mistakes, you are in for many disappointments.  I don’t try to mess-up, but I do from time-to-time.  I will make certain judgments that you like and with which you agree, and I will make others that you hate and which you think are stupid.  That’s ok.  The key is whether or not we are being open to the Word of God, and what God is trying to do here.
    Over my (hopefully) many years here as pastor, I promise to preach the Gospel to you.  I promise to be faithful the Church’s teaching.  In fact, when Bishop Boyea installs me as pastor on 15 August at the 11 a.m. Mass, I will, for the fifth time (I believe) in my life, make a Profession of Faith and an Oath of Fidelity to all that has been revealed by God through the Church.  Sometimes you will like that.  Sometimes it may rub you the wrong way.
    Because the Word of God is meant to challenge us.  It is also meant to comfort us.  It comforts us when we are in line with what God has revealed for our happiness.  It challenges us when we are out of line with what God has revealed for our happiness.  Hearing those messages are hard.  Because I’m not perfect, my personal friends sometimes have to tell me things that I don’t really want to hear.  It’s hard; it hurts; sometimes it can even cause tears.  But with my friends, I know they love me, and so when they speak a hard word to me, I can receive it better because it is spoken in love.
    And I, as your pastor, also commit to loving you.  You are my spiritual children (though many of you are older than I).  Though I don’t know you well, I already love you, because you are the spiritual family God has entrusted to me.  And like a husband for his wife, or a wife for her husband, my goal is to help you get to heaven.  I can’t get there for you, but I can at least help you see the way.  
    But along that way, I ask for your understanding and mercy.  As I said, I will make mistakes.  I will, as the pastor of two parishes, sometimes get overwhelmed.  I have a lot to learn about how things have been done, and how things can be done here.  So please be patient with me, and give me the benefit of the doubt, as I will try to do with you.
    I will also say this, as I know it’s a fear on some of your hearts: St. Matthew will be a place where both the post-Vatican II Mass (Pope Benedict used the term Ordinary Form) and the pre-Vatican II Mass (Extraordinary Form) will be offered.  My hope is that parishioners who attend either will see themselves as one community, unified in their diversity, to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ in and around Flint, and help people to be open to the Word of God which sometimes challenges us, and sometimes comforts us.  I would love to see this parish grow and be a beacon of hope in our community.  I hope that you will join with me to accomplish this goal.  Will you do it perfectly?  No.  Will I?  No.  But we will do as best as we can, animated by the grace of God and by love of our neighbor.  I love you, and look forward to working with you and for you!