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.’”

No Backsliding

Second Sunday after Easter

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When I was a child, I usually gave up chocolates and sweets for Lent (even though I didn’t really like chocolate, and didn’t eat that many sweets because my parents didn’t really buy us any on a regular basis).  But it was the thing to do.  Then, on Easter morning, the Easter Basket would have lots of sweets in it (we also often did the chocolate bunnies), and I would go to town, seeming to make up for all the sweets I didn’t have over the past 40 days by indulging in those sweets the first few days of Easter (the sweets rarely made it beyond Easter Tuesday).
    Perhaps this is a familiar story to you.  Perhaps this is your own experience of Lent and Easter.  And to a certain extent, there’s nothing absolutely wrong.  I know some people gave up meat for Lent, and there’s nothing wrong with enjoying a nice steak as a way of celebrating Easter.  Or others, through Exodus 90, gave up warm water for their showers, so maybe Easter Sunday the hot shower was a little longer than usual.
    But one of the points of Lent is that we are growing closer to Christ, facilitated by those penances we take upon ourselves.  But Easter doesn’t mean that we move farther away from Christ, now that Lent is over.  In fact, each year God desires that we grow in holiness, even if in small ways, so that we don’t start at the same point in 2024 that we did in 2023.
    So how are you doing in living your Easter life?  Are you still growing closer to God through your prayers, weekly ascetical practices, and working on the virtues?  Or has it been more of the, “Phew! Thank God Lent’s over!  Now I can get back to all those bad habits that I used to have!”? 
    God wants us to follow Him closer and closer, like a sheep who not only hears the voice of the Good Shepherd, but stays closer and closer to Him in the pasture, and allows Him to lead us around, rather than having to chase after us and bring us back to the fold.  Because the closer we are to Christ, the less likely it is that we are going to feed on bad grass (i.e., bad doctrine, vicious habits), or be injured by wolves and other creatures that wish us harm (giving in to the temptations that the demons whisper in our ear). 

    Of course, none of this is possible by ourselves.  Christ, the Good Shepherd, laid down His life for us, His sheep.  He sacrificed Himself so that we could have live.  As St. Peter said in our epistle, “By his stripes we were healed.”  And because of that, we can die to sin and live in the virtue of justice.
    So what are the ways that you are growing your relationship with our Lord, and growing in your understanding of the faith?  You don’t have to take graduate-level courses, but are you engaged in what our parish offers for faith sharing groups and Bible studies?  We have a wonderful study on the Eucharist in the Scriptures that will start in May.  Have you checked to see if you can participate in it?  Or maybe you have a desire to study something else.  There are many online courses (some for free) that will guide you, like Fr. Mike Schmitz’s podcast “The Catechism in a Year.”  Or maybe it would be helpful for you to share your joys and struggles with others who are in similar situations, like various mom groups that we have in the parish and in the area, and see how God is helping you to be the best mom or dad, wife or husband, that you can be.  Or, if you’re younger, maybe try a new devotion in your life, like the Litany of Trust, or maybe organize a group of your friends to gather for prayer and a meal, or maybe prayer and some sporting event, or, if you’re of age, talk about your faith together at a local watering hole (with moderation in beverages, of course). 
    Lent is a time that is meant to turn us away from our sinful passions, and draw us closer to Christ.  And while it’s very appropriate to celebrate during Easter, we shouldn’t backslide, but should try to keep that strong relationship with Christ for which we worked so hard during Lent, so that when we come to Lent next year, we’re in a better place, and can work on getting rid of other sinful passions and drawing even closer to Christ.  God not only desires that we be in the same pasture with the Good Shepherd, but that we get closer and closer to Him, so that we can not only hear His shouting about remaining with Him, but even, like St. John the Apostle and Evangelist, lean upon His chest to hear His Sacred Heart and what He wants to whisper to us as His beloved.  May our Easter joy include the joy of being closer to our Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, reigns for ever and ever.  Amen.

Celebrating Birthdays

Solemnity of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist

In our own times, birthdays are big deals.  Everybody I know celebrates birthdays, or avoids their celebration because they don’t want to be reminded that they’re going older.  Some people celebrate half birthdays (another excuse to party, I suppose), and some priests I know joke about celebrating an octave (8 consecutive days) of the day of their birth, just like we do for Jesus in the Octave of Christmas.

But for the Church, we generally celebrate the day a person died.  We don’t do this because we’re morbid, but because, especially as the Church first started celebrating holy men and women, we were celebrating martyrs, those who died for the faith.  So the date of their death was actually the date of their victory through Christ, the day they were born to eternal life; we might call it their heavenly birthday.  So today’s celebration, which supersedes a Sunday celebration, something not all that common, means something pretty big.  There are really only three birthdays that the Church celebrates: the Nativity of the Lord on 25 December, which is one of the holiest days of the year, after Easter; the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary on 8 September, which, when it falls on a Sunday, is not celebrated; and the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, which is one of the handful of days in the Church’s calendar that has different readings for the vigil, the night before, than for the day.

Birthplace of St. John the Baptist
in En Kerem

And St. John the Baptist, the Precursor, as he is also called, is a pretty big deal.  He’s not as holy as the Blessed Virgin Mary, but he prepares the way for the Lord.  He plows the ground, as it were, so that the seed of faith that Jesus plants, can grow in the hearts of the men and women of his time.

John is known as being, what we would call a radical: he wears camel hair and eats locusts and honey.  He lives near the Jordan River, in a mainly uninhabited place, and tells everybody that they’re sinners, in need of repentance.  He calls out King Herod for his unlawful marriage to his brother’s wife, and St. John loses his head for it.  But the word radical does not really mean extreme.  Radical comes from the Latin word radix, which means root.  Our English word radish is simply a transliteration of the Latin word, which, in another form can be radice.  Not a very inventive word for not a very special root that we eat.  But John goes to the root of following Jesus: proclaiming repentance in preparation for Jesus.

In the Gospel on Saturday we hear about how John’s conception is achieved miraculously, but without faith from his father, Zechariah, believing it could happen, and so he is struck mute by the Archangel Gabriel.  And in the Gospel on Sunday, we hear about the naming of John, which frees Zechariah’s tongue and allows him to proclaim God’s wonders again.  But in both the first readings, we hear about being a prophet, speaking God’s Word to the people, which is exactly the mission of St. John the Baptist.

And that is exactly the mission of all of us: to proclaim God’s Word.  And that Word is not so much a particular teaching (though we can teach others about what God says), but a Person, the eternal Word of God that St. John the Apostle and Evangelist talks about, the Word that was in the beginning, the Word that was with God and is God.  We, like Jeremiah, like Isaiah, like St. John the Baptist, are called to prepare the way of the Lord, to make straight His paths.  

But, you might say, if you’re paying attention and not reading your bulletin, Jesus has already come!  We don’t need to prepare for Him, any more than we need to prepare for the Belgium vs. Panama World Cup Soccer game, because it’s already come.  But, in fact, Jesus’ coming happens daily to each person.  Each day Jesus wants to enter our hearts.  But in order to do that, we have to be prepared for him, and in order to be prepared, someone has to help us prepare, and that’s where we come in.  Each day we are called to help people see Jesus in what we say and in what we do: in the kind word to a person who is having a rough day; in the challenging word that we speak with love to a person who is not living as Jesus teaches us; in serving people in the food pantry.  But we have to be purposeful about it, about making it about Jesus.  When the person asks us why we are being kind to them, or why we are lovingly challenging them, or why we are serving them, we need to witness to Jesus and say it’s because Jesus loves them, and as followers of Jesus so do we.  It’s not enough to hope that they’ll catch on.

Imagine if John had been calling people to repentance, but then when Jesus came by, not said, “Behold the Lamb of God!”  He would not have completed his mission.  If, when John was baptizing and being asked why, John said, “I don’t really feel comfortable talking about it,” instead of, “One is coming after me who will baptize you with fire!”, maybe we wouldn’t be celebrating the Nativity of St. John the Baptist.  But we are.  And that in itself is a challenge to us to be like John, to prepare the way of the Lord, to help Jesus find a welcome home by our participation in the mission to proclaim the Word of God, the eternal Word of God, Jesus Christ in our daily words and actions.  

Be radical!  Embrace your mission!  Prepare the way for the Lord!

Unexpected Pastures

Fourth Sunday of Easter

This Sunday of Easter is called Good Shepherd Sunday, and it’s not hard to understand why: our Gospel today comes from the Gospel according to John where Jesus refers to Himself as the Good Shepherd.  I think that we all see the necessity of Jesus leading us, like a shepherd, and, in fact, probably the most popular Psalm in the Bible is Psalm 23, which usually is remembered for it’s first line, “The Lord is my shepherd.”  

A shepherd is someone who leads us, and sometimes we don’t want to be led.  Often we want to lead ourselves, to determine our own direction and our own destinies.  But we proclaim this weekend that God is the one who is supposed to lead us.  Without God we would be lost and in danger, like sheep without a shepherd.  There are many other hirelings who tell us that they will lead us to good places, but Jesus reminds us today that they run away when danger comes, and they often do not lead us where we truly want to go.

I know in my own life Jesus, the Good Shepherd, has led me places I never imagined I would go.  If I simply think about my assignments as a priest, when I was meeting with Bishop Boyea to be approved for ordination to be a priest, I was wondering where he would send me.  The parishes I thought would be open for a newly-ordained priest would be Queen of the Miraculous Medal in Jackson (where I had interned as a seminarian), St. Gerard in Lansing (where I had lived for a summer in college), St. Thomas Aquinas/St. John Church & Student Center in East Lansing (where I went to middle school and where I had spent a couple of summers in college), and St. John the Evangelist in Fenton, where I was then serving as a deacon.  In my heart, I wanted to stay at St. John the Evangelist in Fenton, as I had grown to love that community, and knew how things operated with Fr. Harvey.  But Jesus, the Good Shepherd, through Bishop Boyea, sent me to St. Thomas Aquinas in East Lansing.  Even though it wasn’t my first choice, I had a great four years in East Lansing, made some lifelong friends, and learned a lot about parish ministry.

Then, when my first four years were coming to a close, I thought I might become an administrator in a new parish.  There were a number of parishes that were open, but none of them really jumped out at me as a place for which I should apply.  Jesus, the Good Shepherd, through Bishop Boyea, sent me to St. Joseph in Adrian, on the outskirts of the Diocese of Lansing.  I had never even really visited Adrian before.  And yet, the people of St. Joseph became near and dear to my heart and it was a good, two-year assignment which helped me learn how to be a pastor.

In my second year in Adrian, Jesus, the Good Shepherd, through Bishop Boyea, again led me somewhere I never imagined to go: Flint.  I was very happy in Adrian, but Bishop Boyea said that, because of other moves, he needed me to go to St. Pius X.  I told him that if that’s where God wanted me, then that’s where I would go.  We have certainly had our struggles here at St. Pius X since I arrived, but I love it here, and I love you, my parish family.

In each of my moves, the Good Shepherd has taken me to pastures I never expected.  And in each move, I have found blessings more than I ever would have expected at places that maybe I thought I would do well.  And that extends even beyond my parish assignments: Jesus, the Good Shepherd, continues to guide my formation as a priest.  That is greatly impacted by Bishop Boyea, my immediate shepherd, who, I know, loves me (as he does all his priests), but also challenges me (as he does with all his priests) to grow.

The People of God, the laity, are also called to grow in ways, sometimes that they never expected, and Jesus, the Good Shepherd, exercises his role as Shepherd through His priests.  This is also World Day of Prayer for Vocations.  Each vocation is a gift from God, and whether a person receives the Sacrament of Matrimony, makes vows in consecrated life, or receives the Sacrament of Holy Order, each is called to build up the Church, along with those perhaps not in one of those vocations temporarily or permanently.  But priests in a special way help make the Church.  Without priests, we do not have the ordinary way that God forgives our sins in the Sacrament of Penance, and without priests, we are not strengthened to live our universal vocation to be saints through the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Eucharist.  

And yet, some parents, or other family members, discourage their sons, grandsons, nephews, etc., to answer God’s call to become a priest.  As far as I know, no son of St. Pius X has ever been ordained a priest, or has even entered the seminary.  That is a very sad statistic.  Priesthood is not always easy; it is a sacrifice; and it requires a real man to step up and give his life away for the good of the People of God.  But it is also rewarding beyond any measure that I ever expected.  And I cannot imagine my life doing anything else (yes, that even includes being a police officer).  

So what can we do?  If you have a son or multiple sons, encourage them to think and pray about becoming a priest.  Always include it as an option for a future.  The same goes for if you have grandsons or nephews.  If you don’t, or can’t think of anyone who would be a good priest, then pray for the Holy Spirit to call one of the sons of St. Pius X to consider this vocation, maybe even if it’s simply trying out the seminary.  And pray for that man to be open to the Holy Spirit’s voice.  Another great way to promote the priesthood is to live married life faithful to the call in Holy Matrimony: a life of prayer, sacrifice for the other, and holiness.  Good priests come from good families.  

Jesus is our Good Shepherd, who sends us places sometimes we never expect.  He also sends us shepherds who care for us and help us to follow Him.  Pray for more men to respond to the call of priesthood: to a life of sacrifice, yes,  but also a life of great joy spent in imitation of the Good Shepherd, who calls us all to be saints, and leads us to green pastures.

Do We Truly Love Jesus?

Third Sunday of Advent

           

Think of the last person you fell in love with (if you’re married, I hope it’s your spouse sitting next to you!).  And, if you’re a teen, maybe it’s just the last person you had a crush on.  I bet you could talk about that person for a long time.  I bet that you would try to put into words what exactly it is that you like or love about the person.  You would try to describe your love.  And yet, you probably wouldn’t be able to exactly point to the thing that made you like or love that person.  You could probably talk for hours on end without being able to really explain your love.  And the person listening would probably be bored to tears, and never really get it, though they might pretend to be interested out of politeness.

            For me, that person is the Bride of Christ.  I don’t really want to get started about what I find so beautiful in Her, because if I get going, I might not be able to stop!  And Lord knows the bishop doesn’t need to get letters from all of you about how I preached for 2 hours and only stopped because I needed water.  But she is the perfect one for me.

            Or maybe you’re an enthusiast for the arts.  Maybe there’s just one performance or one play or musical about which you could talk for days!  Or maybe it’s a sports team, or an athlete.  We probably all have something that we love so much, and we treasure so much, that once we get going, we’re like the Energizer Bunny, and we don’t stop, no matter how much the other people around us lose interest.

            Today’s first reading is usually connected with Jesus in the Synagogue.  Jesus reads this passage and says that it is fulfilled in their hearing.  We have all heard it before.  And we’re all quite comfortable with knowing that Jesus is the one who is anointed by God, who was sent to bring glad tidings to the poor, heal the brokenhearted, proclaim liberty to captives and release to prisoners, and announce a year of favor and a day of vindication by God.  We’re probably all sold on that.  And Jesus could say that because He was (and still is) madly in love with His Bride, the Church, and wants to give Her every good thing.  He wants to clothe her with the robe of salvation, wrap Her in a mantle of justice, and adorn Her with jewels.  The whole account of Jesus, and the whole Bible, is a love story about God and His People.  It is the account of one who is so madly in love that He can never abandon Her, even when She abandons Him.

            But today’s first reading is not just about Jesus.  Hence our Gospel passage about St. John the Baptist from St. John the Evangelist’s account.  The Evangelist talks about how the Baptist testifies to the light.  The Baptist cannot stop speaking about Jesus.  He is not the Bridegroom, but He is the Bride waiting for the Lover of His soul.  And He preaches to make people ready, to help them understand why they should be so madly in love with Him.  But the Baptist’s work is only to prepare the way.  He is only a messenger, while Jesus is the Message; he the voice, while Jesus is the Word.

            Wonderful!  Very information!  Glad we now know that John the Baptist is the one who prepares for Jesus, and Jesus is the one who sets Israel free and blesses her!  But that’s only half the story.  “And now,” to quote Paul Harvey, “the rest of the story.”

            You are anointed by God!  You are sent to bring glad tidings to the poor, heal the brokenhearted, proclaim liberty to captives and release to prisoners, and announce a year of favor and a day of vindication by our God!  The call of Jesus is your call!!  No, that’s not blasphemy, that’s sacramental theology!  When you were baptized, you became a part of Jesus’ Mystical Body.  You were joined to Jesus.  After you were baptized with water, you were anointed with Sacred Chrism, a perfumed oil, and were made to be a christ.  You were not made to be the Christ, but were made to be  a christ, an anointed one (which is what Christ means).  When your parents (if you were an infant) or you (if you were over the age of seven) said yes to being baptized, you were given that same mission as Jesus, because you were made a part of Jesus.  His life became your life.  His mission became your mission.

            “But,” you might say, “I don’t want to talk about Jesus.”  If that is the case, we have to ask ourselves if we truly love Jesus as much as we should.  When we truly love someone we cannot help but speak about that person.  “Isn’t she gorgeous!  She’s so kind!  I just want to be around her.  She brings out the best in me.  I feel happier when she’s around me.”  We can talk for hours, even if we only have a crush on a person. 

“But I don’t know how to talk about Jesus!”  When we’re truly in love, we don’t care if we have the right words; all we care about is telling someone just how great that person is.  “She does this thing with her face when she gets annoyed and she just scrunches up her face in just a way like this, but not like this because I can’t do it right, but it’s just so, I mean it makes me feel so, it’s kinda like, I don’t even know how to describe it!”  When we love someone truly, madly, deeply, we can’t hold it in, just like St. John the Baptist couldn’t hold it in.  Maybe the way we talk about Jesus won’t be in the same way as we talk about our spouse or our crush.  But let’s at least talk about Jesus in these last few days of Advent, so that we, too, can prepare the way for the Lord and make straight a path into others’ hearts to receive the love that we have received from God. 

Happy Anniversary!!

Solemnity of the Dedication of St. John Church

           

1958 Original Church

Ordinarily, we would be celebrating the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord today and closing out the Christmas Season.  That is what our parishioners who today attended our St. Thomas Aquinas site celebrated.  But for us at St. John the Evangelist, this day is a special day of a different kind: an anniversary.  55 years ago today, this Church was dedicated to the glory of God under the patronage of St. John the Evangelist.  55 years ago today Bishop Joseph Albers, first bishop of Lansing, celebrated the Rite of the Dedication of a Church, initiating this place as a temple of the true God.  55 years ago today, prophecies were fulfilled: the oracle from the Book of Malachi, that “From the rising of the sun to its setting…Incense offerings are made to my name everywhere, and a pure offering”; the oracle from the Book of Isaiah that we heard this morning: “foreigners who join themselves to the Lord…To love the name of the Lord, to become his servants…Them I will bring to my holy mountain and make them joyful in my house of prayer; Their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be acceptable on my altar, For my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples”.  In this place a pure offering is made.  In this place we, most of us Gentiles, that is, non-Jews, who have been joined to the Lord through Baptism so that we can love the Lord and be His servants, we have been brought to this mountain, represented in the raised sanctuary, and our sacrifices, joined to the one perfect sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, made present for us in sacramental signs in the Eucharist, are accepted by God.  This place is a house of prayer for all peoples.  Brothers and sisters, to quote David in Psalm 118: “This is the day the Lord has made.  Let us rejoice and be glad in it”!!!

            Now, we believe that God exists in all places.  He cannot be contained because of his immensity and transcendence.  And yet, we have this place, this building, which we have set aside for the worship of God and the edification, the building up, of His People.  Why?  For one, we also believe that God, whom the heavens and the earth cannot contain, chose to limit Himself and take flesh, born of the Virgin Mary.  God chose to be contained as the Divine Nature was united to Human Nature in Jesus.  As we say in the Creed, “by the power of the Holy Spirit, he was incarnate of the Virgin Mary and became man.”  God chose to make a temple for Himself as He joined Himself to us in the Incarnation.  Secondly, we are people who operate by our senses.  Everything we know comes through our senses.  And so we build a place that becomes for us a physical reminder that God dwells among us.  We set aside a place where we can come and offer worship to God: to thank Him for His goodness; to ask for His blessing; to lift up in prayer our brothers and sisters. 

This building becomes a symbol, a sensible reality that points to an invisible reality.  This building is a special kind of symbol, a sacrament.  I don’t mean that we’re adding sacraments to the seven Sacraments instituted by Christ to confer grace.  But it is a sacrament in the sense that it is a physical reality that gives us the opportunity to receive grace, because as we enter the nave of the church and enter our pew, or go to light a candle at the Holy Family corner, or pass some time in prayer at the Blessed Sacrament Chapel, we can receive God’s life, what we call grace. 

This building also is a type of sacrament because it is meant to represent us.  We are the living stones that are being built up into the temple, as St. Peter reminds us in the second reading today.  God desires each of us to be part of his heavenly temple.  He is crafting each of us into an individual stone that will fit perfectly into the New Jerusalem in heaven.  Each of us has a different role to play in the building.  Christ Jesus is the cornerstone, with the twelve apostles making up the rest of the foundation of the heavenly temple.  And we build on that foundation, and add to the structure and beauty of the temple as we are chiseled so that we can fit into the place God has set aside for us.  But, unlike stones which are inanimate, we the living stones, can also form ourselves, and hopefully we cooperate with God in being formed into the right stone for the right place, rather than forming ourselves to our own standards, and risk being thrown out of the construction of the heavenly temple because we have made ourselves have no place in the temple of God.  But, if we let God cleanse our temple, our soul and body, as Jesus did in the Gospel, then we know we can have a place in the building up of the temple not made by human hands, but made by the hand of God.

Our prayers remind us, too, that we are the temple of God, and this building symbolizes what we are called to be.  The Prayer over the Offerings says, “Recalling the day when you were pleased to fill your house with glory and holiness, O Lord, we pray that you may make of us a sacrificial offering always acceptable to you.”  And our preface continues the theme: “For in this visible house that you have let us build and where you never cease to show favor to the family on pilgrimage to you in this place, you wonderfully manifest and accomplish the mystery of your communion with us.  Here you build up for yourself the temple that we are and cause your Church, spread throughout the world, to grow ever more and more as the Lord’s own Body, till she reaches her fullness in the vision of peace, the heavenly city of Jerusalem.”  May we truly be stones that are fit to be a part of the heavenly temple, to which God calls us through Baptism.  Because, as Bishop Albers said about the students (though it applies to all of us) as he dedicated this church on 12 January 1958, “The greatest possession they have today or ever will have in their entire lives is that of their Faith.  Should this be lost, everything will be lost.  And no matter what material success they may attain later on, before God their lives will be a failure.”

I wish to close with words of gratitude, again quoting Bishop Albers: “I wish to use this occasion to express my appreciation to everyone who has helped in the realization of this building whether through contributions, advice, planning, counseling or other ways.  I am especially grateful to the many thousand donors who have given of their means…I am confident that Almighty God will reward them with an increase of Faith and a greater love and devotion to Him and to souls, for their generosity in providing these means to care for the young men and women here at Michigan State University.”