Showing posts with label Our Father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Our Father. Show all posts

18 July 2022

Eucharistic Revival

 Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  The US Bishops have launched a Eucharistic Revival in our country, culminating in a Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis in July 2024, the the first Eucharistic Congress in the US in some 40 years.  Reading any of the stats on how many Catholics actually believe what the Church teaches about the Eucharist can be rather depressing, and demonstrates the need to reinvigorate the faith of Catholics across the US in our Eucharistic Lord.

Famous mosaic of the Miracle of Loaves from the Holy Land
    Our Gospel passage today is a perfect one to draw us in to the Eucharist, as it was one of the multiplication of loaves miracles of our Lord.  How could we not think of the Eucharist when we hear how our Savior gave thanks, broke the bread, and gave it to His disciples, so that they could give it to the people?  That action still continues today, as we give Christ what we have, both our interior offerings of what has happened since the last time we came to Mass, but also bread and wine, and He, through the ministry of His priest, gives thanks, breaks, and returns that gift to the people so that they do not die of spiritual hunger.  No longer is it simply bread, but it is the Bread of Heaven, the Bread of Angels, the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of our Lord.  In Latin we ask God in the Our Father, “Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie”; “Give us this day our daily bread.”  But in the Greek, the phrase is not Panem…quotidianum, daily bread, but 𝜏𝜊𝜈 π›ΌπœŒπœπœŠπœˆ…𝜏𝜊𝜈 πœ€πœ‹πœ„πœŠπœπœŽπœ„πœŠπœˆ, super-substantial bread.  He gives us this “super-substantial bread” in the Eucharist, which not only feeds our body, but especially feeds our soul.
    This Panis Angelicus, this Angelic Bread, forgives us our venial sins, and unites us to the Lord.  That’s why we also refer to it as Holy Communion, Holy Union with Christ.  And if we are united to Christ the Light, then those small bits of darkness that we invited into our lives through venial sins are eliminated by the light.  But, if we have invited into our lives major areas of darkness, mortal sins, then we first need to go to confession, so that we are not joining our grave infidelity and evil to the fidelity and holiness of Christ.  That is why any person, from the President of the United States, to an individual in Timbuktu, should not present him or herself for Holy Communion in the state of mortal sin, nor should that person be offered Holy Communion if they publicly reject communion with Christ and His Church.  Still, if we only have venial sins, we should approach this Salutaris Hostia, this Saving Host or Victim, so that we can be more closely united to Christ.
    The Eucharist also gives us strength to live as disciples.  The people in the Gospel were fatigued because they had been listening to our Lord preach for three days (and you thought my homilies were long!).  They have received some strength from the Word of God, delivered by the Incarnate Word of God, but they are in need of more if they are not to faint on the way back home.  The Eucharist gives us this strength.  It is not enough that we be strengthened by the hearing and reading of the Word of God (though that is important).  God wants more for us.  He knows that living according to His Word can be difficult and taxing, because living according to His Word means denying our fallen human nature and taking up our daily crosses to follow Him.  And so He feeds us with Himself so that we can live the life to which God calls us.  That is also why the pelican is an ancient symbol for Christ: it was thought that the pelican, when there was not enough food, would pierce its breast and feed its young with its own blood.  So Christ does for us: He allows Himself to be pierced for our offenses, and then feeds us with His own Body and Blood in the Eucharist.  
    In many parts of the world in the past, and in some parts of the world today, people only receive Holy Communion once per year, not feeling worthy enough to receive.  St. John Vianney and Pope St. Pius X rightly advocated for frequent Communion (as long as one is not in a state of mortal sin) because he knew that we are more likely to be conquered by the devil when we are weak and malnourished, but we are more likely to be victorious in Christ when He dwells within us.  Frequent Communions has been a great gift to the Church over the past centuries, to strengthen us to live our life as disciples.
    Lastly, our Lord sent the people away after they had eaten.  Even in this small pericope, we see the heart of the Mass: the people hear the Word of God, they eat the bread that the Lord provides miraculously, and then they are sent.  So in our Mass, we have the proclamation of the Word of God in the Mass of the Catechumens, the consecration of the Eucharist and the miracle of transubstantiation in the Mass of the Faithful, and then the priest says, “Ite, Missa Est”, “Go, She [the Church] has been sent.”  The reception of the Eucharist is meant to change us, to make us more like Christ, in our life that we live outside these walls.  It is supposed to make us more kind, more forgiving, more loving, just as Christ is kind, forgiving, and loving towards us.  The Eucharist is meant to help us sacrifice our own wills for the good of our spouse and/or family, just as Christ sacrificed His life for His Spouse, the Church.  The Eucharist is not something that we receive as a prize for coming to Mass.  It is food that sustains us to go out and proclaim the good news of the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God by word and deed.  
    We need a revival of belief in and reverence for the Eucharist.  We need to better understand the great gift that the Eucharist is for us.  And we need to better utilize the graces that we can receive through worthy reception of the Body and Blood of Christ, so that the City of Man can better resemble the City of God, to use an expression of St. Augustine.  Let’s commit ourselves today to valuing this most precious gift Christ left for His Church, and commit ourselves to allowing the graces of the Eucharist to flow through us and empower us to bring Christ to those we meet, so that others may experience through us our Triune God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

25 July 2016

Our Catholic Life of Prayer

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Question for you this afternoon/morning: if you’re married, when was the last time you spoke to your spouse?  If you have kids who live with you at home, when was the last time you spoke to them?  If you’re in high school or college, when was the last time you texted your friends?  Now, when was the last time you prayed to God?
If you are married and you haven’t spoken to your spouse today, then I might be seeing you later this week in my office for marriage counseling.  If you have kids who live at home and you haven’t spoken to them yet today, you’re probably not going to win a parent of the year award.  If you are in high school or college and you haven’t texted someone yet, you probably have been asleep until about 20 minutes ago.  But when it comes to talking to God, when it comes to prayer, we tend to be ok with letting that go much longer.
Sometimes we can treat prayer as pretty complicated.  We feel like it has to meet all these different criteria, and so, because it requires too much, we don’t do it.  But prayer is not necessary complicated.  Look at our first reading from the Book of Genesis.  Abraham speaks with God, after God reveals His plan to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah because of their grave sins.  Abraham is simply walking with God, and starts bargaining.  Abraham simply talks to God.
Part of prayer is simply talking to God.  The other part of prayer is listening to God.  We tend to be good at the first, but not so good at the other.  But the Lord invites us to listen to Him as well as to speak to Him.  For our daily prayer, there is no special language needed, either.  Simply talk to God; say what’s on your mind and heart.  And then have some time of silence to listen for His voice, even if it’s in our hearts.  Talk to God like you would talk to a spouse, a family member, or a friend.
At the same time, when it comes to our formal prayer, we do have specialized ways of speaking to God.  In our Gospel today, Jesus teaches us the Our Father.  Today we heard St. Luke’s version.  We say the version that St. Matthew reported, but at its heart, it’s the same prayer.  Sometimes, especially when we are at a loss for words, formal prayers are nice because we don’t have to spend the time thinking of what we want to say.  We can enter into the words that Jesus or the Church gave us, and pray the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Memorare, or the Glory Be.  
We are also in the midst of the Church’s great prayer: the Mass.  We began our prayer with the sign of the cross, and we will end it with the dismissal after the blessing with the sign of the cross.  Now, as the official prayer of the Church, we have a different way of addressing God.  How often do you say, “bestow in abundance” or “these most sacred mysteries” or even “grant, we pray”?  Probably never.  And yet, in this formal prayer of the Church, we elevate our language to remind us that we are not simply in a brick and mortar building.  We are not in an earthly place when we celebrate Mass (at least not the way we are when we go to the mall, or a bank, or a restaurant).  When we are at Mass, we are in a foretaste of heaven, the halfway point between heaven and earth.  And so, just as we are invited to lift up our hearts, so we also lift up our language and grammar to reflect the greatness, the solemnity, of the event we are entering: the Passion, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus Christ.  
Some people like formal; some like informal.  Some people like memorized words; others like extemporaneous.  There is a place for both in the Catholic life.  If our only prayer is formal prayer and the Mass, then we are missing out on the more emotional parts of our faith that come from our daily devotions and times of speaking to God in our own words.  If our only prayer is our daily devotions and speaking to God in our own words, then we’re missing out on the font that is supposed to give our devotions life (the Mass), and we can easily forget that God, while our loving Father, is also our King, and we are not His equal.  Both are necessary for a healthy and balanced Catholic life.

God is both our Father and our King.  He wants to hear what is going on in our life on a daily basis.  At the same time, He is not our puppet, and we are still called to have wonder and awe in His presence.  The best way for this to happen is to pray.  Pray daily with all the things that are on your heart and mind.  Use the devotions of the Church like the Rosary, Praise and Worship music, and prayers to favorite saints.  At the same time, also join in more formal prayer.  Come to Mass each Sunday and holyday.  In these last weeks of summer vacation, come to daily Mass if you’re able.  Worship God our Lord, who created the universe and holds us in being.  Unite with the bread and the wine on the altar your cares, concerns, joys, and blessings.  And then say, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof.  But only say the word and my soul shall be healed” in humility, knowing that God does not owe us anything.  Enter into communication with God.  Share your love with Him, and be surrounded by His love for you.  

04 November 2010

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time


          Part of the joy of growing up is the ability to do things by yourself more.  When you reach a certain age you don’t have to hold an adult’s hand when you cross the street; when you get older you don’t have to have drive with an adult, and the list goes on and on.  Of course, in all of this, parents want to help.  They want to show you how it’s supposed to be done, while still respecting your freedom.  I can remember a few times when I would be putting something together, and I could tell that my dad really wanted to help me.  “Do you want a hand?” he asked.  But I, more intent on asserting my independence and ability to do things for myself, said, “No, thanks.  I’ve got it.”  Of course, when I couldn’t get it right, I immediately went back to dad for help.
            So often in life there are others who know how to do something, and they want to teach us, to pass on the lesson.  And private prayer is no different.  Hopefully each of our parents taught us a particular group of prayers like the Our Father or Hail Mary, or maybe the Guardian Angel or St. Michael the Archangel prayer, or Grace Before Meals.  They showed us how we are to pray when we’re by ourselves or in small groups.
            Some people stay there with those form prayers, and Catholics are particularly good at that.  When confronted by others with questions like, “Why don’t you pray in your own words?” we usually respond, “Why should I reinvent the wheel?  Someone else (often a saint) has created these prayers, and they match the way I like to pray, so it works for me.”  There is some truth in the fact that as we progress in the spiritual life, it is often good for us to be able to approach God with words of our own that comes from the depths of our hearts.  It’s not bad to use form prayers, and I often will, but there are also times where my own words can best express what’s going on in my heart and soul.
            This is where we see Abraham with the three guests we heard about last week.  Abraham is pleading with God, in his own words, to spare the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah.  Notice that he doesn’t deny the sins that are going on, but he’s begging because he knows that his nephew and his side of the family live there.  So he begs God using words of his own to spare the city if only fifty, or forty-five, or forty, or thirty, or twenty, or ten innocent, that is, sinless, people are there.  Of course, we know how the story ends: there aren’t even ten innocent people there, so the city is destroyed, but not before the angel of the Lord saves Lot, and tries to save Lot’s wife, who destroys herself by disobeying the Lord’s angel.
            So if private prayer was sufficient, why did the disciples of Jesus ask Him how to pray?  Didn’t they want to simply talk to God in their own words?  The disciples realized that Jesus was forming a new community, an assembly of people, which in Greek is translated ekklesia, which is where we get the words ecclesial, meaning of the Church.  The disciples realized that Jesus was forming a Church, and they wanted to know if this new assembly, taken from the Chosen People of Israel, would have its own prayer as a community.
            And Jesus does not disappoint.  He gives them a prayer which we pray every Sunday, the Our Father.  But the approach is interesting.  The disciples don’t assume that they know how to pray within this new community.  They ask Jesus, the Master, to teach them how to address God.  They know that they need to learn how to pray to God in a way that pleases Him. 
            We have a prayer that is for the community, that includes the Our Father, but is not limited to it: the Mass.  The Mass is the prayer of the Church, offered for the Church for her benefit.  It is the prayer that Jesus gave us, through His spokesman, His Vicar, the Pope.  But sometimes we’re not like the disciples.  Instead, we assume we know best how to pray to God, and that no one can tell us how we should pray as a community.  We assume that if we could make the Mass according to our modern mind of what’s best, then that would be the prayer that God wants to receive, even though He may have said something different.
            To put it in another context, it would be like someone asking for an iPod touch for a birthday, and us deciding that we know what’s best, and what he or she really wants is a set of speakers for the car.  It doesn’t respect the desire of the one who asks.
            While the Mass is our community prayer, it does not belong to us as if we have authority over it.  It does not even belong to me as a priest, or to any parish priest.  I’m only allowed to do what the Sacramentary, the book which tells me how to celebrate Mass, tells me to do.  Sometimes it’s not specific, but many times it is.  Only the Pope and the Bishops are allowed to alter the way certain aspects of the Mass are celebrated, and even the Bishops can’t change that much, because the Pope guards the unity of the entire Church, whether it’s in America, Africa, Asia, Europe, South America, or Australia, and the way that Jesus wants us to pray to His Father.  It’s not about us.  It’s about God, and how He wants to be worshipped. 
            And this is a challenge for us, including me, at times.  I’m a pretty by-the-book sort of guy, that’s true.  But sometimes I think that it would add to the Mass if we added this, or tweaked that.  But in those moments I have to remind myself that the Mass is not mine.  It’s the expression of how God wants us to pray in community, and it belongs to the entire assembly, the entire Church, not just particular groups. 
So, when we’re praying privately, then there are more ways to express that conversation with God.  And I hope that we take advantage of the myriad of legitimate ways to express the longing our souls feel for God.  But when we’re together, we have the very teaching of Jesus, through His Vicar, on how we are to pray as a community.  May our attitude when it comes to the Mass be the same as the disciples who begged Jesus, “‘Lord, teach us to pray.’”