Incremental Growth

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

(l-r) Anthony and Fr. Anthony

    When you have a goal, sometimes it’s easy to want to be at the end result, rather than being satisfied that you have done today what you need to in order to achieve that goal.  My best friend Anthony is very strong and very much in shape.  And when I started lifting weights over a year ago, I wanted my body to look like his.  I wanted the big biceps and pecs.  Now, if Anthony were to stand up next to me today, you would see that I have not yet achieved that goal.  But, I am bigger than I used to be, with better defined muscles.
    When it comes to our spiritual life, it is easy to fall prey to the same mentality, that we should achieve the goal immediately.  We read the lives of the saints, which helps us because we see in them the goal of living our baptismal promises.  But then we realize that we’re not at their level yet.  This can push us onwards, or it can also lead to a bit of despair, because we can worry that we will never achieve our goal because we haven’t achieved it yet.
    As we hear the call of the first Apostles–Andrew and John, and then Andrew invites Peter–we can see them searching for a more meaningful life, searching for the Messiah and desiring to associate themselves with Him.  To use the weight-lifting example, it’s as if St. John the Baptist says about Jesus, “Look at that guy flex!” and Andrew and John are amazed enough to follow a new leader, and Andrew even invites his own brother to join in.
    But Jesus doesn’t lay out for them everything that will happen, either to Himself or to them.  He doesn’t unfold how life will fully be like following the Messiah and being part of His inner circle.  He doesn’t explain that He’s going to wander around Judea and Galilee preaching and performing miracles.  He doesn’t tell them that He will forgive sins, which is reserved for God, or heal the blind, sick, and lame, and even raise a dead girl to life.  He doesn’t tell them that the Pharisees are not going to be fans, and are going to dog Him and His followers everywhere they go.  He doesn’t tell them that He will walk on water, multiple bread and fish for five thousand, or ride triumphantly into Jerusalem.  He certainly doesn’t tell them that the same crowd that joyously welcomes Him to Jerusalem for the upcoming feast of Passover will call for His crucifixion, which He will undergo, abandoned by most of His disciples. 
    He doesn’t tell them that they will be called Apostles, and will be the new patriarchs of the new Israel.  He doesn’t tell them that they will heal people and exorcise demons in His Name.  He doesn’t tell them that they will, more often than not, lack understanding of His teachings.  He doesn’t tell them that they will be sent out, rather early in the game, to preach His arrival.  He doesn’t tell them that one of the most trusted friends will betray Him for money, while the leader of His trusted friends will even deny knowing Him. 
    What does He say?  “‘Come, and you will see.’”  And Andrew, John, and Peter will stay with Jesus that day.  All that would happen, both to Christ and to the Apostles, is contained in that simple phrase, “Come, and you will see.”  He knew they weren’t ready for everything yet, that they had to slowly prepare for everything, so He didn’t share everything yet.  Just like, when I started lifting weights, I didn’t try to bench 205 lbs. (my current best).  When I started, I think I was lifting 75 lbs. and feeling the burn.  If I would have tried 205 lbs. when I started, I would have failed, and maybe given up.  But I persevered, and now am trying to get up to 225 lbs. 

NOT Fr. Anthony or Anthony

    God doesn’t give us everything all at once, even when we might desire to know it.  Like so many things in nature, the growth happens slowly, organically, methodically.  Yes, sometimes there are spurts of growth, but if the weight of the final goal was placed upon the embryonic beginning, it would crush the start so that the finish would never happen.  I think about it in terms of my own parents’ marriage.  In 1979, when my parents said, “I do,” they had no idea that my dad would convert to Catholicism and be baptized; that he would eventually become a deacon; that they would have three kids; that one kid (me) would fall eight feet, head first, onto a concrete floor (I know some of you are thinking, ‘That explains it!’); that one would be in a horrific car accident that would require weeks of hospitalization and rehab, and leave scars over her arm; that one would have difficulty with her hips at a young age, and then require lots of trips to the ER and breathing treatments for asthma; the time and effort they would put in to caring for their moms in their last days of life; that they wouldn’t both be able to be close to their fathers at the end of life due to COVID.  I’m not sure any couple could handle that at the age of 21 and 19, or any age.  But they have gone through all that and more, taking things one day at a time with Jesus, and seeing where He leads them. 
    Striving for holiness is a day-by-day affair.  We are not saints all at once, but each day choose to say yes to God and no to anything opposed to Him.  If you want to be a saint, then commit yourself, just for each today that you have, to stay with Jesus that today.  After the numerous todays that you spend with Him and cooperate with His grace, you’ll see the difference.  Your end will be determined by the daily decision you make to remain with Jesus.  Where does God want to lead you?  “Come, and you will see.”

Come, and You Will See

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time-St. Pius X

    Once the Bishop Boyea decreed that St. Pius X parish would be closed and which date the closing Mass would be, I was curious about what the reading would be for the week before (today), the last time I would preach as pastor of St. Pius X parish.  The last homily of a pastor at a parish is always a big homily, but especially when the parish is closing.
    So as I looked for the Gospel today, I was grateful that this Gospel passage would close out my preaching at St. Pius X.  This Gospel of the call of St. Andrew, St. John, and St. Peter (formerly named Simon) may not seem perfect, but it truly is.
    Today, and even more so next week, you may have this sense of, “What am I going to do?  Where am I going to go?”  In this way, you are like St. Andrew and St. John, whom St. John the Baptist directs to Jesus.  Today, as then, Jesus asks you, “‘What are you looking for?’”  Your answers certainly have a common thread, but also are as diverse as each person is.  Each of you seeks something the same and something different from the Lord.  Perhaps your question is like St. Andrew and St. John’s: “‘Where are you staying?’”  Or maybe better for today and next week, “Where are you?”  There is nothing wrong with that question.  All honest questions are welcome to the Messiah.
    Today, Jesus says to you, as He did to Andrew and John, “‘Come, and you will see.’”  Jesus didn’t tell them all that would happen to them over the next three years.  He didn’t immediately give them the term “Apostle.”  He simply invited them to stay with Him, and they did, starting with that day.  
    On 29 June 1955, Bishop Joseph H. Albers, first bishop of Lansing, erected St. Pius X parish.  And on 7 August of the same year, Fr. John A Blasko, the founding pastor, celebrated the first Mass in the Flint CIO Labor Temple at the corner of Corunna and Downey.  On those days, and all the days that followed, the invitation was the same: Come, and you will see.  Jesus didn’t show us then the ups and downs of the parish; the different locations where Mass would be said; the different priests who would serve as pastor or parochial vicar; or even how long the parish would last.  He simply said, “‘Come, and you will see.’”  And we have seen God working.  For 68 years and 7 months God has revealed Himself.  He has done so through the Mass, through the sisters and lay people who taught in the school, through the CCD classes, through the faith-sharing groups, through the food pantry, through the priests, through the buildings, and through the parishioners who became more like family.  
    And next week, as Bishop Boyea closes the doors to this church and declares it de-consecrated, the message will not change.  Jesus will still invite you: Come, and you will see.  And whether you stay with Jesus by joining St. Matthew or by joining another parish, Jesus wants you to stay with Him.  Today: stay with Him.  Tomorrow: stay with Him.  The rest will work itself out.  As long as you stay with Him.
    It wouldn’t always be easy.  Simon, after meeting the Lord, got a new name.  This group of three would grow to a group of twelve, which would shrink by one when Judas betrayed the Lord, and then would add Matthias and later on Paul.  Christ would demonstrate great miracles like the feeding of 5,000 with fives loaves and two fish.  Pharisees and scribes would seemingly constantly harass this wandering Rabbi and His disciples.  Most would abandon the Lord after He said that they had to eat His flesh and drink His blood to have life within them.  All of Jerusalem would welcome Him right before Passover, and then they would all yell out, “Crucify him!” five days later.  All but John and Peter would abandon the Lord after He was arrested, and even then Peter would deny he even knew Jesus.  Talk about your ups and downs.  But, even after abandoning Him, they would gather to stay in the place He celebrated the First Mass with them, and see Him risen from the dead and receive both His peace and His commission to spread the Gospel.  
    It has been and always will be the same: someone points out Jesus to us, and Jesus invites us to stay with Him.  It’s that simple and that complicated.  Stay with Jesus; stay with the Church.  I don’t know what that will entail for you, but the Lord of History, Jesus Christ, does.  What will happen if you stay with Jesus?  “‘Come, and you will see.’”