What Makes You Follow Him?

Solemnity of St. Matthew
    Whenever I think about the apostles following Jesus, I wonder what it was about the Lord that made a group of men leave everything they knew behind and follow a rabbi who had, from a worldly perspective nothing.  Now, in some cases there were miracles that helped.  Think about Peter, who participated in a miraculous catch of fish when Jesus told him to go out into deep waters to fish.  Or Nathaniel, to whom Jesus said that He had seen Nathaniel sitting underneath a fig tree.  And maybe we might even suggest with Andrew, Philip, James, and John, who had been disciples of St. John the Baptist, that having your rabbi basically say, “Follow him,” would make it easier when the Lord invited you to follow Him.

    But with St. Matthew, our parish patron whose solemnity we celebrate today, as with other apostles, there doesn’t seem to be any miracle or direction given by another.  Jesus simply says, “‘Follow me,’” and St. Matthew follows Jesus.  What was it in the look or the tone of voice or maybe simply the way Christ carried Himself that made St. Matthew want to leave behind the lucrative, albeit despised, job of collecting taxes for Rome?
    No matter what it was that drew St. Matthew to Jesus, what made Matthew a great evangelist and a martyr was the witness to the Resurrection.  He knew that Christ had died, even if he didn’t see it with his own eyes.  St. John, his fellow Apostle and later fellow Gospel writer, did see it with his own eyes, and certainly reported it back to the group.  And then, three days later, they saw Jesus, all Eleven of the Apostles (because Judas had killed himself), risen from the dead, but with the marks of His crucifixion.  And then, fifty days later, the Apostles received the gift of the Holy Spirit so that they had power to spread the Good News that God, in Jesus, had conquered sin and death, and that no one needed fear anything, because God had shown His power over all things and would raise up those who followed Him and were baptized.  Matthew took seriously the last words that he recorded in his Gospel account, that the mission of the followers of Jesus was to go and make disciples of all nations and baptize them in the name of the Trinity.
    What makes us follow Jesus?  Many, if not all, of us were likely baptized as infants.  Our parents chose to configure us to Christ to give us the grace we needed to live a truly happy life.  Just like they chose, before we could choose, what foods to eat, what clothes to wear, what activities we could or could not do, as a sign of their love for us, so they chose to claim us for Christ.  But at some point, we have to also accept our call and follow the Lord.  Being a disciples is not something to which we default.  It has to be a choice, and a choice that we make after encountering the Lord.  Christ invites us, too, each day, to follow Him, but we have to actually get up and follow Him, or risk missing out because we would rather have the mediocrity of the known rather than the sometimes uncomfortable and dangerous adventure of leaving all behind to follow Jesus.
    So where have we encountered the Lord?  When did we hear His call?  It’s important to reflect back on a moment where we encountered the Lord, because it gives us strength for the often hum-drum ways we live our lives, the times where the Lord does not appear to us as powerfully as He sometimes does.  
    And if we’re afraid that we haven’t had a chance to encounter the Lord, do not fear!  Because each time you come to Mass, you encounter the same Lord who called St. Matthew; the same Lord who died on the cross; the same Lord who rose from the dead and sent the Holy Spirit to strengthen His disciples and give them what they needed to share the Good News.  Each time you come to Mass, Jesus proves His love for us in giving us a taste of His Passion, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension, which gives us eternal life within us.  God knows we need Him and so He gives Himself to us to be closer to us than any other person could ever be, even a spouse. Even in these simply, 8 a.m. morning Masses, the God of all glory comes down on this altar to make Himself present to us and to invite us to follow Him.  And if, perchance, you doubt this, as can sometimes happen, then during the Eucharistic Prayer, ask the Lord in the silence of your hearts: “Reveal yourself to me, Lord, and call me to follow you.”  I promise that if you ask in sincerity of heart and make those few words your own, Christ will answer you.  He will reveal Himself to you and call you to follow Him.  Again, all you have to say in silence is: “Reveal yourself to me, Lord, and call me to follow you.”  Especially as you first see the Body and Blood of the Lord, as I turn to you and say, “Behold the Lamb of God,” God will be revealing Himself, and may even grant you a miraculous appreciation of this through a special gift, if that is what you need to deepen your faith and relationship with Him.
    God calls you today to follow Him, just like He called St. Matthew.  God has filled you with the Holy Spirit through the Sacrament of Confirmation, so that you have what it takes to share with others the good news of the Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of the Lord, and that He has freed us from sin and death.  What will you do?  Will you stay at your customs post?  Or will you get up and follow Him?

Made for More

Passion Sunday
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  This is the time of year that new assignments start coming out.  Just last Monday we received the notice of the movement of a number of pastors and parochial vicars to new assignments.  I was subsequently speaking with a brother priest and telling him how I received an email a couple of months ago from a parishioner at Immaculate Conception parish in Milan, Michigan (not to be confused with Milan, Italy) who asked me to apply for that parish because I am a young priest with lots of energy.  I joked with my classmate that I am not as young as I used to be.  And, besides that, I really feel that St. Matthew is the perfect fit for me (and I hope you feel that way, too, at least most of the time).  That’s not to say that we don’t have any challenges here and ways that we can continue to grow, not only in population but in our relationship with Christ.  But I really feel like I belong here, that we compliment each other well, and that we challenge each other to grow as a parish family.  As many of you live outside of the territorial boundaries of this parish, I know that you, too, feel like St. Matthew is a perfect place, and you witness to that by driving past other parishes that are geographically closer to you.

My installation as pastor of St. Matthew

    But while St. Matthew seems like the most perfect assignment I’ve had so far as a priest, and hopefully the most perfect parish for you, our epistle today is a good reminder that this is not all there is.  Christ is the High Priest, the Supreme Pontiff, of a greater and more perfect temple, not made with hands, in heaven.  As St. Paul says, we have here no lasting city.  We are made for heaven, and that is the temple into which we should all strive to enter.
    It is so easy to focus on what is here below.  Our church building can rightly be called beautiful as it reflects the truth of what this place proposes to be: a house of God, who is utterly transcendent and awesome.  The precious materials like marble and gold leaf offer to God the best of what we have for His glory.  The images of the saints throughout this church, like in our stained-glass windows, the medallions near the ceiling, and the statues (which are now covered) remind us that what we participate in is not just an earthly affair, but is the meeting point between heaven and earth, where saints and angels worship God together with us.  In this place we not only remember but participate in the offering of Christ in the Holy of Holies, no longer with the blood of a dumb animal, but with the precious blood of the Son of God, the blood which speaks more eloquently than that of Abel.  We join ourselves to the one Mediator between God and men, the God-Man Jesus Christ, who invites us into a covenant not carved on stone by the hand of God, but carved into our hearts; a covenant not marked by the cutting away of flesh in circumcision, but the cutting away of that which separates us from God, original sin; a covenant which brought not temporary purification, but opened up for us the possibility of eternal life in heaven if we keep our wedding garments clean in the Blood of the true Unblemished Lamb in which they were washed.
    But God reminds us today through the readings that His covenant surpasses anything that came before, and, in fact, fulfills them all.  Even that great covenant with Abraham, wherein God made Abraham and his descendants the People of God, looked forward to the covenant with Christ, as Christ Himself noted in the Gospel that Abraham looked forward to the day when God would take union with man and redeem man once and for all.  The Jews picked up stones to kill our Lord because they recognized that Christ was not claiming to be another prophet or religious leader like so many that had come before Him.  The Savior claimed that Abraham rejoiced in Him, which made Himself equal to God.  He also used in some way, that sacred name of God that God Himself revealed to Moses: I AM.  Christ is a prophet, but also greater than the prophets, and the God who inspired the prophets.
    For us, then, the Lord invites us not only to keep in mind His Divinity, but that, while we exercise good stewardship of this earth and all that lives in it, we also keep our minds fixed on what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of the Father.  As good as this earth is, our time on it will end, either by death or by Christ’s return in glory at the parousia.  At the end of time, what is good will be perfected and what is bad will be cast away.  Even the sacraments will end in heaven, because we will no longer need material reality to mediate God’s presence.  We will be able to behold God face to face, no longer dimly, as in a mirror.  The indelible marks of the sacraments will still remain–baptism and confirmation, and for those in holy order, the mark of ordination–but no longer will we baptize, confirm, or ordain, because Christ will be all in all.
    So while we remain on this earth, we also do what so many advise against: keep our heads in the clouds.  Not in the sense that we are absent minded or distracted, but that our attention is ever-split between earth and heaven, keeping before us always the destination for which God created us.  As good as life can be here, something even greater awaits those who remain faithful to the covenant sealed in the Precious Blood of Christ our God.
    So yes, let’s continue to build up St. Matthew parish.  Let’s draw others to this beautiful House of God.  It truly feels like where I belong, and I hope you feel like it’s where you belong as well.  But, even so, may we also remember the tabernacle not built with hands, greater and more perfect than our tabernacle here, where Christ, our High Priest, eternally intercedes for us, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Too Old for Silly Stuff

Solemnity of St. Matthew
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  Last weekend in Fort Wayne I had a chance to be with my fellow Knights and Dames of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem.  We had excellent talks on the Eucharist, on the worsening conditions for Christians just trying to survive in the land where our Lord lived, died, and rose again, and on the work of the Order.  But another benefit is catching up with people that, generally speaking, I only see once a year at these Investiture Weekends.
    During drinks with one such person, he was talking about a men’s gathering he recently started attending in his parish.  If I remember the details correctly, it’s on a Saturday morning beginning at 7:30 a.m., with confessions, then Mass, then a formation talk and socializing.  This friend of mine asked one of the men what drew him to give up a Saturday morning and focus on his faith.  The man, I believe in his mid-50s, said something to the effect of: I’m too old to put up with silly stuff anymore.  I want to take my faith seriously, and I want to be fed with solid food, not with the fluff upon which many parishes so often focus.  
    I thought of that conversation as I prepared to compose this homily for our parish patron, St. Matthew.  His feast was this past Thursday, but so that we might celebrate it as a parish, I transferred it to the Sunday, as Bishop Boyea has allowed me to do in the past.  

    I don’t know how old St. Matthew was when he received the call to follow our Lord (many of our images in this church depict him as an older man), but perhaps, sitting at that tax collector’s booth, as our Lord invited him to become an Apostle, St. Matthew had that same sentiment: I’m too old for all this useless focus on cheating others to make a living, not practicing my faith, but supporting pagan oppressors.  St. Matthew must have noticed that something about our Lord was different, and that following Him would be a life worth living.
    Following Christ for St. Matthew started with a banquet in his home.  Not a bad commencement to the apostolic life.  Maybe think of it like an ordination reception.  But after that it got real, real quick.  The Apostles lived by donations from others, our Lord was not always welcome, especially by the Pharisees and scribes, and He even prophesied His own Passion and Death, in the most horrible way possible.  Even after the Ascension, and after writing the Gospel which bears his name, St. Matthew died as a martyr, by the axe, as we see in the apse above.  So life wasn’t easy.  But it was a life worth living, and worthy of being celebrated for some 2,000 years.
    As Catholics, no matter what our age, are we doing our best to live with that same drive, with that same desire to make a difference, and not just exist in the “fluff”?  Are we serious about our faith life?  How easy to just float upon the river of life like we’re in a tube, not always knowing where the current takes us.  In fact, if we float in the river of the world, we know it’s not taking us to Christ, as our world is not ordered to Christ; it’s ordered to pleasure at all costs, to numbness, to whatever comes easiest.  The call of Christ is to take up our cross daily, to feeling the great joy of serving God and following His will, as well as the sadness of giving up what feels good but leads to destruction and damnation, to fixing our eyes ahead of us as we plow, and not looking back to count the costs.  
    It is easy to preach “God loves you.”  It is a true message.  God loves you more than you could ever imagine.  But love calls for love in return.  The greatest displeasure to one who loves is not to have that love returned.  Think back (or currently) to the pain of high school when someone you crushed on didn’t like you back.  Or imagine giving your all to a spouse who does not return that all back to you.  God loves you is only half the message; do you love God?  Can anybody tell you love God?  
    As we celebrate our parish patron, I would like us to commit or recommit ourselves to being serious about our faith life.  Not just professing with our lips that we are Catholic, but living a life that demonstrates that faith.  I’m not asking you to be perfect, as I will tell you that I am not.  But I am asking you, and I will join in with you, to trying to live that heroic life, like St. Matthew, that means something, that echoes through the millennia as a witness that others can follow.  
    What does it mean to be serious about our faith?  I can’t give you an extensive list here, but I do have some ideas that can help.  One: at least make it to Sunday and Holyday Masses, but attend other Masses if you can.  Our worship of God is one of the most important things that we can do.  Not just when it’s convenient; not when it’s easy; but even when it takes some sacrifice.  Two: commit to confessing your sins at least once per month, or more frequently, especially if you are aware of grave or mortal sins.  If you’re struggling to think of sins, find a better examination of conscience to help you out.  Three: choose to pray each day: as a couple and/or family.  Pray for at least 10 minutes.  It can be formal prayers like the Holy Rosary; it can be conversational prayer and prayer of petition.  And leave some time to listen to God in the silence.  Four: when possible, abstain from meat every Friday.  If you can’t, for health reasons or because you’re spending time with people who are not Catholic, then create some other penance to do on that Friday.  But try to deny yourself something each Friday and unite it to the cross of Christ.  Five: read a book about the faith.  Maybe it’s just a few pages each day; maybe only one page each day.  But deepen your faith.  Attend a Bible study or a faith-sharing group.  We offer numerous options here at St. Matthew.      There are, as I said, many other important ways to take the faith seriously.  We are called to serve the poor, to welcome strangers, to instruct the ignorant, and the other Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy.  But choose today to be a serious Catholic: not serious in the sense that you never smile, but serious in the sense that you are purposeful in living as a Catholic, not just floating by, hoping that you’re floating towards God.  No matter how old you are, we are always too old for fluff that doesn’t strengthen us to follow Christ.  We are never promised tomorrow.  Live each day, like St. Matthew, focused on following with all of who we are our God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Needing Jesus

 Solemnity of St. Matthew
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  You all are probably aware that I’m a big fan of country music.  And I would argue that the first couple of country music right now are Tim McGraw and Faith Hill.  In 2007 they released a song together called, “I Need You.”  And the refrain goes, “So I need you. // Like a needle needs a vein / Like my Uncle Joe in Oklahoma needs the rain / I need you. / Like a lighthouse on the coast /…I need you.”

    Do we need Jesus?  As we celebrate our parish patron, that is the question that our Lord asks of us today, and which St. Matthew exemplifies.  What was it that made Matthew drop everything to follow Christ?  What allowed Matthew to put on a dinner in his home for our Lord?  He realized that He needed Jesus.
    No doubt, St. Matthew had tried to fill up his life with other things.  He was a tax collector for an occupying government, which probably meant that he didn’t have a lot of Jewish friends, at least not the kind that went to synagogue.  Perhaps Matthew thought that, as long as he had to be under an oppressive government, he would at least get a little ahead by working for them.  Recall, too, that tax collectors generally made their money from charging more than the taxes, so they could pocket the difference.  But that money did not satisfy him fully.
    We don’t know if St. Matthew was married, but, by tradition, only John was unmarried.  Let’s hope that Matthew had a happy marriage, maybe even had a few kids.  But he knew that even those goods of family life could not fully satisfy him.
    Matthew was a man in need of a savior.  He knew it, even if he couldn’t put his finger on what would satisfy that need until our Lord came and called him.  But once Christ did call Matthew, everything was changed, and Matthew had to leave behind everything else and follow our Lord.
    Christ said today that He did not come to call the just, but sinners.  What is it about the just that tends to leave them outside the call of Christ?  They don’t feel they need Him.  Does that mean that Christ did not come for the holy?  How can one be holy without God’s help?  Those who are convinced of their own righteousness do not look for a savior, because they feel they have saved themselves by their own good deeds.  Those who are models of holiness, the saints, always recognized their need for God, and that they could not be holy without Him.  They mourned even their venial sins because they recognized how even those small sins hurt God.  The saints knew throughout their lives that they needed a savior, even as they advanced in their relationship with God.  
    The fulfillment of the realization that Matthew needed a savior was so powerful that Matthew wrote a Gospel about the God-Man who changed his life by a simple call.  He wrote down the stories that we have learned from childhood: the visit of the Magi; the Sermon on the Mount; the call of St. Peter to be the first pope; part of the words of Institution in the Mass; the great commission to “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”  He organized his account of the Gospel in a way that people would see in the Lord the fulfillment of the promise of Moses that God would raise up another prophet, to whom the Chosen People needed to listen.  Indeed, it seems to be divided into five parts, just like the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Tanakh, the Jewish scriptures.
    That fulfillment that St. Matthew found also made his passion and martyrdom worth the price.  Nothing was more precious than the gift of a savior that Matthew had found in our Lord.  Everything else, to use the words of his fellow apostle, Saint Paul, was as rubbish when compared with the treasure Matthew had found in Christ.  
    So, do we need a savior?  No matter what our virtues or the ways we say yes to God, do we still recognize that we need Him?  Do we still cry out to Him for mercy that justifies us, that puts us in right relationship with God?  Or do we feel like we can handle things on our own without God?  
    Do our hearts still yearn for a deeper relationship with God to fill the holes in our hearts that no material goods can satisfy?  When our Lord calls us in our custom’s post, are we ready to respond because we know we need Him?  
    And as we find that fulfillment, do we then respond by sharing that good news, that evangelium, with others?  Is the joy in our heart from knowing Christ so great that we can’t help but share it with those we meet?  Or do we keep our light under a bushel basket, and allow our salt to grow tepid?  Would we be willing to give up our lives for our Lord, or do we serve other lesser gods in our life?  Do we need Jesus?  If so, then together, as a parish, let us follow Him, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit reign, unto the ages of the ages.  Amen. 

Christ Visiting Our Home

 Solemnity of the Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Matthew
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]. Bishop Boyea has a homily he wants read at every Mass this weekend about the upcoming Synod on Synodality.  But we have a special celebration as we celebrate the Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Matthew today.  So you get two homilies for the price of one today.  Still, I’ll try to keep mine brief.
    I want to focus in particular on the Gospel.  Zacchaeus might seem an odd choice for a Gospel on the Anniversary of the Dedication of a Church.  [In the Ordinary Form, there are other options like a pericope from the encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well, or I think the cleansing of the Temple].  But it really does make sense, if you think about it.  In this encounter with Zacchaeus, our Lord wants to visit his house.  Isn’t this precisely what our Lord does in a church building?  Doesn’t He ask to dwell with us, in the house of worship of our parish?  Of course, He doesn’t simply stay for dinner.  He remains here, which is why this space is dedicated, or set apart for sacred use.  

Zacchaeus' sycamore tree in Jericho

    We are, in this interpretation, Zacchaeus.  We are a tax collector, who is rich, that is to say, we probably have skimmed off the top.  That’s how tax collectors made reasonable money in the ancient days (hopefully not the present day): they would add money to the taxes owed, that they would then pocket.  But, whether we collect extra money literally or figuratively, we’re sinners.  Still, the Lord wants to dwell with us.  And once we encounter Him, it should lead us, like Zaccheus, to change our lives.  The whole point of Christ coming to dwell with us in this sacred temple is that we might be more configured to Christ, that Christ may more easily dwell within the temple of our hearts and souls.  If we are not drawn to change our lives, even if we feel like we’re making the same changes week by week, then we’re not truly encountering Christ.  This is not because He’s not here, but because we haven’t welcomed Him in.
    But Christ also wants to dwell in the hearts of other people.  And so this sacred space should also encourage us, through what we engage in here, to help others see the Lord.  We are the disciples who bring the Lord to other towns besides Jericho, so that Christ may dwell in the hearts of other sinners who need saving, just like we need saving.  In that way, Christ doesn’t just stop at the house of Zacchaeus; He goes to other houses, too.  
    So while we celebrate this beautiful church today, and the anniversary of when it was set aside for divine worship, we cannot rest on our laurels.  We are asked by Christ to take Him to others, so that He can draw them from their sin, and so feel comfortable living in them.  So, too, we work at continuing to make the temple of our hearts a place where Christ feels at home, so that our souls are the temples of the Holy Spirit, who with God the Father and God the Son, is one God, for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Like St. Matthew

 Solemnity of St. Matthew

    Probably we take for granted that each church building is named after a saint, or after a mystery of our Lord’s life.  As we look around Genesee County we think of churches and parishes and immediately go to the name of the holy one or holy ones associated with it: St. Pius X, St. John Vianney, Holy Redeemer, Sts. Charles and Helena, etc.  But have you ever stopped to think why we do this?  
    Naming churches is not simply to distinguish one church from another, though that is helpful.  As a young child (some may still think I’m a young child), I was confused for a bit that every town had a First Baptist Church.  How could every town have the first one?  But we name our churches to put that church and the people who enter it, the people of the parish, under the patronage or protection of that mystery of our Lord’s life or that saint.  So we gather to worship God under the protection and with the assistance and intercession of St. Matthew, the Apostle and Evangelist.  He is, in the apse of the church (the rounded part of the sanctuary), looking down at us each time we gather, and looking out at us through the statue at the high altar.  
    We also talk about patron saints.  Certain saints are associated with certain professions or hobbies, and their intercession is sought for those particular needs.  St. Matthew is the patron saint of accountants, bankers, bookkeepers, security guards, and stockbrokers.  The money aspect makes perfect sense because St. Matthew was a tax collector, which was at best as popular then as it is now, perhaps even less popular because St. Matthew collected taxes for a foreign, occupying power.  
    But we also look to our patron saints to inspire us to live like they did.  We are not to “ape” them, just doing everything that he did (collect taxes, move to Israel, write a long story about Jesus’ life, Death, and Resurrection, etc.), but we are to live in our own day in our own vocation following the pattern that St. Matthew set out for us.  And it is on that aspect of our heavenly patron that I want to focus today.

    In our Gospel today we heard Jesus call St. Matthew to follow Him, and St. Matthew did just that.  He abandoned his profession, held a banquet for Christ and his disciples, and then abandoned everything to follow our Lord.  For most of you (but perhaps not all), Christ is not asking you to quit your job.  But He does desire that we make Him the most important thing in our life.  And that is something that we can all do.  Today our Lord is inviting us to follow Him; to put in second (or third or fourth) place the things that usually vex our mind, and to focus on Christ.  
    Notice that our Savior does not call St. Matthew because of Matthew’s perfections.  We don’t know anything about St. Matthew’s moral life explicitly, but if other tax collectors and sinners came to his house for dinner, there was likely some affinity with those who sinned.  Matthew didn’t have it all together, and our Lord didn’t make that a prerequisite for following Him.  All Christ required was a willingness to do what He said.  
    And if we want to be saints, Christ calls us to do the same, under the patronage of St. Matthew.  Christ is not calling us to follow Him because we are perfect.  If Christ waited for our perfection in order to call us, He would be waiting for an eternity.  But He calls us and comes to us because He came “‘to call [not] the righteous but sinners.’”  He wants to heal us as the Divine Physician of any wounds or sicknesses that afflict our hearts.  He knows we need Him, and He hopes that we, like St. Matthew, can recognize that and follow Jesus’ call.
    But following St. Matthew doesn’t stop at simply following our Lord, just as St. Matthew didn’t just follow Him until the crucifixion.  After the Resurrection and Pentecost, St. Matthew went, by tradition, to Persia and Ethiopia.  Having been transformed by Christ’s healing love, and filled with the power of the Holy Spirit, St. Matthew could not help but share that Good News, the Gospel, with others.  He did so in writing in his account of the Gospel, written especially to a Jewish-Christian community, and by word of mouth in foreign lands.
    Again, we are not to ape St. Matthew.  I’m not telling you to go to Iran (modern-day Persia) or Ethiopia, though you are most welcome to do that if God is calling you to do so.  But right here in Genesee County, right here in Flint, are people who need to hear the Gospel.  In writing and by our speech, St. Matthew should inspire us to share the Good News with others, and not to keep it to ourselves like a lamp under a bushel basket.  
    I am new here, and so far only a small part of St. Matthew’s long, proud history.  I have heard from parishioners about times when the church would be filled, or at least be fuller than it is today.  And I know people want that again.  We may not ever have a high school again, but we want to have families so that we could.  We would love to have more Masses here like in days gone by, needed simply to accommodate all the people who seek God’s salvation in this church through the intercession of St. Matthew.  It is not impossible.  It’s not even improbable.  But it will take each of us becoming an evangelist, each of us becoming a sharer of the Good News of Christ.  There are so many people who need it, and the beauty of this amazing church draws people to our Triune God who is Beauty Himself.  But they will never get here if we don’t invite them.  And I’m not talking simply about stealing other Catholics from other parishes.  I’m talking about reaching out to those who are not Catholic, those who may be connected to Christ through baptism but who do not have the fullness of God’s revelation which is present in the Catholic Church.  Or even those who are ignorant of God and His ways, those who are unbaptized.  If we really believe that God is such an important part of life, then we are required, as an act of charity, to share it with them!  They may accept or reject it, but at least we have done our part to make sure they know it.
    When was the last time you invited a fellow Catholic and especially a non-Catholic to come to church with you?  Sometimes it takes just one time of entering a gorgeous church like this and hearing the Gospel for the heart to be moved to convert one’s life.  True, only Catholics can receive Holy Communion, but let the reception of Christ’s Body and Blood be the goal that the visitor desires and which draws them to convert their life and join the Catholic Church.  
    Today we ask St. Matthew, not only to intercede for us with God to make us saints, which is very important, but also to help us spread the Gospel.  If we truly want to be sons and daughters of so great an intercessor, if we truly want to call ourselves members of St. Matthew, then may our lives demonstrate that same zeal that St. Matthew had.  Today, let us recommit ourselves to inviting a friend to come to church with us, and sharing with them the Gospel, so that more and more may hear and obey the invitation of Christ to follow Him.

Communion with God

 Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity

    One of the questions people have been asking me most about my role as pastor of both St. Pius X and St. Matthew (especially now that the new Mass schedule has been released) is how I’m not going to burn out.  And it’s a valid concern; there’s a lot of work and I’ll be kept quite busy.  But I’m not just relying on myself.  I have some good friends that I see almost every week who allow me to relax with them, have some dinner, and set aside the concerns of work.  Sometimes we run together, we often eat (and drink) together, and we just hang out.  My time with them allows my batteries to recharge so that I’m ready to go with whatever the week throws at me.
    I think we all have people that we lean on to help us unwind.  For some people it’s a phone call to mom and/or dad.  For others it’s a spouse or a friend.  Maybe it’s your Bible study group, or a group of friends with whom you go to dinner.  But time with those people seems to make things better, and allows us to enjoy life again, and handle whatever stresses come our way.
    As we celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, we celebrate our God who is both One and a Communion of Three Divine Persons.  Jews and Muslims recognize the oneness of God, but only Christians recognize the Trinity of Persons.  We believe in God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, One God, equal in dignity and majesty, co-eternal.  God is transcendent, beyond the confines of our reason.  And yet, in Jesus, God the Son, God also humbled Himself to imminent, to be like us in all things but sin and to be with us in communion.  
    God didn’t need us.  God–Father, Son, and Holy Spirit–is perfect in Himself, and lacks nothing.  And yet, out of an abundance of love, God created the universe and everything in it, and then, even beyond any imagining, extended that perfect Communion in Himself to the creatures He had made in His image and likeness.  
    That’s the message we hear from Deuteronomy in the first reading.  Moses says, “‘Did a people ever hear the voice of God speaking from the midst of fire, as you did, and live?  Or did any god venture to go and take a nation for himself from the midst of another nation?’”  We might not think of that as so great, but, as Moses points out, it was unheard of!  God didn’t simply deign to speak with His creatures, but saved them from their oppressors and gave them a law to help them live the fullness of life for which God created them.  And, as far as Moses was concerned, that was proof enough that God is God, and that He is worth obeying.
    But Jesus did more than simply speak to us from fire and thunder.  Jesus spoke to us while looking like us and sharing our human nature.  He communicated even more of what would truly make us happy and give us joy.  Jesus built on the Ten Commandments that were given on Mount Sinai with the Eight Beatitudes that He gave in the Sermon on the Mount.  He filled out the deeper meaning of the law, and showed us that true happiness comes from giving of ourselves, rather than taking.  
    But by Jesus’ Incarnation, and then by His Passion and Death, He allowed us to be joined to Him through baptism, and to be sustained by Him in the Eucharist, so that the Communion that the Most Holy Trinity enjoys, we could also enjoy.  St. Paul writes about this in the second reading as he talks about our adoption that the Holy Spirit accomplishes so that we are children of God the Father, brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ.  We are not simply slaves to a law, but co-heirs to glory and the Communion of God.
    And communion is what God wants for us: He wants to have communion with us.  And that is what truly sustains us, even in the most stressful times of our life.  Friends are great, and I value mine.  But God is the one who can sustain us through anything.  He lightens our sorrows and increases our joys.  He gives us strength and wisdom to deal with the hardest parts of life, beyond even what our human friends, even beyond what a spouse, can help.  
    And that is the greatest gift of our God.  He is transcendent, higher than the heavens.  And yet He is also imminent, closer to us than we are to ourselves.  God does not only want us to know that He is–Father, Son, and Holy Spirit–a Communion of Divine Persons, He also wants us to be united to that Communion.
    So when things are rough and when things are easy; when life is painful and when life is full of joy; when storm clouds gather and when the sun shines brightly; yes, turn to friends on earth to share in the experiences of life, but turn even more to God, the Communion of Three Divine Persons, and know the strength and happiness of being in Communion with our Creator.