Good Soil and Good Fruit

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time/Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  It never failed that during summer vacation while in high school, my teachers would always give me something educational to do.  Usually it was literature classes requiring us to read a certain book or books, and we would have a test our first week back at school.  I always had the intention of reading the book progressively through the summer so I didn’t have to cram it all in at the end.  And for the first couple of weeks I did pretty well of reading a chapter or two every few days.  But then I always felt like I had a lot of time during the summer to read, which meant I put it off, which meant I usually had a majority of the book or books to read in the last two weeks before school began.     
    The way we treat summer can sometimes mirror the way we treat our spiritual life.  We figure we have lots of time, so we don’t need to rush anything.  Instead, our Lord uses the image of seeds and crops and trees to remind us about how we should always work at improving our spiritual life and remaining open to the ways in which the Lord wants to work in and through us.  

    We’re all used to the parable about the sower of the seeds [which we heard today].  There are different types of soil that have the ability to sustain or not sustain the crops.  The meaning doesn’t take a rocket scientist to sleuth.  But how are we treating our soil?  Do we cooperate with God’s grace to have good soil, or do our hearts mimic more of a path, or rocky soil, or soil with thorns already growing there?  Do we generally know that God has spoken through the Scriptures and through His Church, but we don’t really bother to engage what God says?  Or do we joyfully hear God’s Word at Sunday Mass, but then forget about God’s word on the car ride home or through the rest of the week, and then act like practical atheists who do not involve God in life, whether life goes well or poorly?  Or do we read the Bible daily, but then treat the rest of life as more important and more practical than living by God’s Word, and so it cannot take root in us?  Or do we hear God’s Word at Mass, and read it at home, and allow it to transform the decisions we make and the words we say and the way we treat others so that, with St. Paul, we can say that it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me?
    God wants us to bear fruit.  But how we receive the Word of God and allow it to saturate our lives will determine what kind of fruit we bear.  If we don’t care for the soil, the tree of our spiritual life will produce rotten fruit rather than good fruit.  And the state of our soul manifests itself in our words and actions.  A person animated by the love of Christ does not curse out other people.  A person trying to follow Christ does not put sports above God and the Sunday obligation of Mass.  A disciple makes decisions not on how much money he can make, or how much power and prestige this will gain her, or what his favorite political party and spokesman says, but on the teachings of the Gospel as expounded throughout the centuries by the Church.  
    But all too often, our lives can contradict what we say we believe and whom we say we follow.  It’s like the young person arrested for possessing or selling heroin or fentanyl while wearing a DARE shirt (which, for those who didn’t grow up in the 90s, stood for Drug Abuse Resistance Education and was meant to help kids avoid doing drugs).  Or the person who wants to live a healthier life but eats fast food every day of the week.  Or the politician who says he or she cares for the environment and wants to limit carbon emissions and the flatulence of cows because they make too much methane gas, only to fly across the country and the world every month in a private jet.

St. Anthony of Padua

    Does this mean we will live the Gospel and Church teachings perfectly?  No.  We are all sinners, and we all miss the mark, sometimes often, sometimes rarely.  But are we doing our best to cooperate with God’s grace and God’s will, or do we say one thing and do another?  St. Anthony of Padua once preached: “Actions speak louder than words; let your words teach and your actions speak.  We are full of words but empty of actions, and therefore are cursed by the Lord, since he himself cursed the fig tree when he found not fruit but only leaves.”  There’s a difference between me wanting to bench press 225 pounds for one or two sets of three reps, and not having the strength yet but going to the gym regularly to improve my bench press, and wanting to bench press 225 pounds but not even bothering to go to a gym, or only doing so once or twice a week.  
    The vice of sloth can act as a temptation to many, that we can delay really putting in effort to receive the Word of God and live the Word of God until we’re older and when we have more free time.  But God doesn’t promise us tomorrow.  All we have is today.  As St. Paul says, quoting the Prophet Isaiah: “Now is the acceptable time; now is the day of salvation.”  Tend the soil of your soul today.  Put in the work now to bear good fruit in the future.  Before we know it, the summer will be over, and the harvesters will come to reap the fruit from the crops they sowed in the spring.  May we not be the branches that brought forth bad fruit and were cut down and cast into the fire, but the branches that bore good fruit because we cultivated our soil and stayed connected to the Vine, Jesus Christ [who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen]. 

Our Surpassing God

Third Sunday of Easter

Grand Tetons National Park

    About halfway through 2020, and about 5 months into “14 days to flatten the curve,” I decided to travel to a national park.  I was sick of being cooped up in Flint, and needed to get away to destress from all the new stress of COVID that we pastors had to deal with as we learned how to shepherd people during a pandemic.  While I knew a flight was not going to be great, I did look forward to going somewhere far away where I could enjoy the outdoors and not have to wear a mask.  So I looked to our national park system, and decided to visit Grand Tetons and Yellowstone National Parks.  I had looked forward to being less encumbered by COVID protocols, but the views I had from the two national parks out west were spectacular and far surpassed any expectations I had for parks I had heard about, but never visited.
    In both our first reading and our Gospel, we hear about expectations that God far surpassed.  In the first reading, St. Peter, on the day of Pentecost, tells the Jews that Jesus has fulfilled the prophecy of David, but did so in a very unexpected way.  And in the Gospel, Jesus Himself enlightens the disciples on the road to Emmaus about the ways that God had foretold the Messiah.
    For David, God had made a promise that his descendants would always sit upon the throne of Israel.  And I’m sure David considered this promise as a guarantee that his sons would always rule over Israel as earthly kings.  That was exciting enough.  But David, too, prophesied in the psalms that God would not abandon David to the netherworld, nor let his holy one (perhaps David used this title to refer to himself) undergo corruption.  But God far surpassed what David expected.  God made one of David’s children, Jesus, an eternal king in heaven whose reign would never end because Jesus has a kingdom which lasts forever.  And God did not let the truly Holy One, Jesus, undergo corruption, nor let Jesus remain in the abode of the dead, but raised Him to new life.  David thought that what God would do was glorious enough from an earthly standpoint.  But what God really was going to do would have blown David’s mind.
    Likewise, for the disciples on the road to Emmaus, they knew the prophecies about the Messiah, David’s son.  They knew that Moses prophesied about a future prophet to whom the Chosen People must listen.  They knew that God would provide a Davidic king who would trample Israel’s enemies and restore glory to the Chosen People from their oppressors.  But again, they thought of the Messiah in earthly ways.  They wanted a king who would throw out the Romans and restore an earthly kingdom to Israel.  But God did better: He destroyed the true enemy of Israel, sin and death, and established a heavenly kingdom that could never be conquered by any power in heaven or on earth.  And in that kingdom swords would be changed into plows, and spears into pruning hooks, and the lion and the lamb would lie down together and dwell in peace.  Those who heard these prophecies of Isaiah probably thought them to be hyperbole, but God intended it much more realistically, where, in God’s reign, there would be no more war, death, sorrow, or disease, and harmony would be the hallmark of God’s kingdom.
    When we think about what we think God wants, our earthly vantage point often limits us.  We have something good in mind, but perhaps it’s not all that great.  It may have a certain excellence from an earthly point of view, but God wants much more than our limited minds could ever hope for or anticipate.  His plan excels ours as much as diamonds excel fools gold.  But we get stuck in our ways and our views and so do not see, like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, what God really can do and has done for us.  When our measly projects don’t come to fruition the way we wanted, we, too, can become downcast.
    In the midst of our dashed earthly hopes, we should turn to the Lord and ask Him to enlighten us with His plans and what He has done, which is far greater than our own plans and expectations.  We do this through reading the Word of God, through daily prayer, and through our worthy reception of Holy Communion.  We come to Christ, like the disciples, and let Him know that we don’t understand what God is doing, and ask Him to show us the way, to show us the great things that He has done, so that we can appreciate them.  And God–the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit–will open our eyes to His plan and His great deeds in our lives and the lives of others, which accomplish far more than we could ever hope for or imagine.
    In August, 2020, I wanted to get away and live a freer life, without social distancing, without masks, without living like a prisoner in my own home.  I went out west, thinking that at least it would allow me to accomplish those goals.  But as I toured through Grand Tetons National Park and Yellowstone National Park, I experienced such natural beauty and grandeur, that it not only refreshed my body, but even lifted up my mind and my soul as I stood in wonder and awe of what God had made, and what He allowed me to experience as part of my inheritance as a citizen of our great country and an adopted child of the God who made such magnificent mountains and grand geysers.  God surpassed my hopes, and He wants to surpass yours.  Do not let your hearts droop down when our limited goals and desires do not come to fruition.  Bring them to God, and see the great things He wants to do for us, things that surpass our hopes and dreams.

Looking Back

Last Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When I turned forty, I wouldn’t say I had a mid-life crisis, but I will say that I took stock of my life.  Forty is not old, yet it significant, because eighty years old would be a good life, and the fortieth birthday means that I’m halfway there.  So I looked back to what I had done and what I had failed to do (using the words of the Confiteor).  
    As we come to this last Sunday of the liturgical year, we would do well to take stock of how our last year has gone.  I don’t mean so much in our natural lives, though that is fine to recall, too.  But I mean our spiritual lives.  How have we grown closer to Christ?  Or have we grown further separated from Him?  What virtues have really taken root?  Or what vices?  What grand intentions have we put into place?  Which ones remain simply intentions upon which we never or rarely acted?
    Our Lord gives us signs of when things would come to a head, so to speak.  One Scripture scholar notes that the abomination of which our Lord spoke in reference to Daniel was when the Syrian king Antiochus IV Epiphanes set up a statue of Zeus in the temple in the year 167 BC.  The scholar notes that early Christians would have seen the destruction of the Temple in AD 70 as a similar calamity.  But what has entered into the temples of the Holy Spirit that we are?  How have we given into the world and worldly views?
    Our Lord also mentions false messiahs.  Others will point to false saviors and false prophets, whether in the desert, or in a room.  He tells us not to believe them.  Do we have people or things in which we put the trust that we should only put in God?  It’s so easy to elevate a person like a political leader or party, or a material good like money to the place that only God should occupy.  I will even get very queasy when, in March, the phrase pops up associated with the Michigan State basketball team, “In Izzo we trust.”  I’m all for some good March Madness, and Tom Izzo, who is Catholic, does seem to find a way to bring his team along to the Big Dance.  And that phrase is said in jest.  But still, whom do we trust?  Maybe this time of year, we’re putting more trust than we should into Dan Campbell.  Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing the Lions win for a change.  And he seems like a good guy, so I’m not trying to detract from his good name.  But how much do we allow a win from our men in Honolulu blue to affect our lives?  There’s nothing wrong with being a Lion or a Spartan fan (though I know there are a number of Wolverine fans who would say differently to that last part), but how much of our lives are spent focusing on sports, distracting us from things that matter much more and last much longer?
    But this year-end review is not all bad news.  While it’s good to examine our conscience, we should not only focus on what we have done wrong, but what is going right?  How are we progressing in virtue and growing closer to God?  Because, even in the midst of these tribulations, God promises mercy to those who stay faithful.  Christ mentions that the days of tribulation will be shortened for the sake of the elect.  God knows how much we can take, and He doesn’t give us more than we can handle (even if we end up saying with St. Teresa of Calcutta, I wish God didn’t trust me so much).  And none of the end tribulations should catch us off guard, because Christ Himself has warned us about what is to come, even if some of it has already come.  

    What lasts is the word of God.  The teachings of Christ remain forever, and they are sure and steady anchors onto which we can hold.  If we connect ourselves to that anchor, the waves may crash upon us, and may even push us around a bit.  But if we anchor ourselves on Christ, then we won’t go far from Him, and we’ll remain in the kingdom of Christ with the saints in light.  
    So, spend some time today reflecting on the past liturgical year.  Focus on areas in which we can grow.  But, also focus on successes we have found in Christ and cooperating with Him.  Both are important to note.  And pray, as we come to the end of this liturgical year, that we will remain faithful to Christ, no matter what happens in the world; no matter what happens in the Church.  Pray that we will have the strength to survive any tribulation because we are connected to the one who does not pass away, even as the heavens and the earth will, God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

The Generosity of the Sower

Sexagesima
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Conservation of energy: in the world of physics and chemistry, this law states that the total energy of an isolated system remains constant and is conserved over time.  In my world it means that I want the least amount of work for the greatest amount of results.  I don’t want to work any harder than I have to work.  Whatever effort I put in should yield some positive result. 

    God does not seem to operate that way, as Christ tells us in the parable.  We have a farmer who has seeds, from which he expects some sort of yield of crops.  But he’s sowing seed on the road, and on rocky soil, and among thorns, and finally, among good soil.  What a waste!  Any simple person trying to plant grass would know that if you throw seed on the road, it will get trampled upon or eaten by birds; if you throw seed on rocks it won’t have enough place to expand its roots and gain nutrients; if you throw seed among thorns it won’t grow above the thorns.  Here is the farmer putting all this work in when it, most likely, will not yield any results.  And remember that, in our Lord’s day, you couldn’t simply go to Home Depot and pick up a pack of seeds.  The seeds you had were likely from the harvest the year before.  You were working with a limited quantity.
    Most often when I’m preaching about this Gospel, I focus on the type of soil that our souls are.  And it can yield real spiritual fruit to meditate on how open we are to receiving the word of God and letting it take root in our lives.  But today I want to focus on the farmer, and how it reveals to us how God operates and, therefore, how God wants us to operate.
    God is wasteful when it comes to His Word.  He does not scrimp and save.  He shares His Word in ways that otherwise would make no sense.  And why?  Because, as St. Paul tells us in his epistle to St. Timothy, God desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.  God shares His Word with those who probably will not receive it, but just in case they can, He sows those seeds anyway.  And, unlike soil, people can change.  Roads and rocks and thorns can become good soil.  So God thinks nothing of scarcity of resources, but shares His life with everyone, in the hopes that something will bear fruit.
    And we see this in other parables, too.  In the parable of the lost sheep, the shepherd leaves behind the 99 sheep who are doing just fine in order to find the 1 who is lost.  No shepherd in his right mind would do this.  The math doesn’t make sense, unless, of course, you are the lost sheep whom the Good Shepherd finds.  In the parable about the lost coin, the woman tears her house apart looking for that one coin, and on finding it throws a party, which probably would cost more than that coin.  In the parable about the lost son, more commonly known as the Prodigal, or Wasteful, Son, no father with any sense would have welcomed back a son who told him to drop dead and give him his share of the inheritance now, then wasted it on loose living, and then returns to live as a servant.  But the father runs out to meet his son, and throws a party at his return.  In all these parables, God does what in earthly calculations seems inconceivable.  He is generous to the point of absurdity. 
    This would be too good to be true, if not for the fact that the description of the Father, the First Person of the Blessed Trinity, comes to us from the Son, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity.  When Truth Incarnate tells you something, you can take it to the bank.
    But the parables are not meant only to give us the warm fuzzies about how God acts.  If we are truly disciples of the Lord, and the Lord reveals to us the Father, then we are called to act as Christ depicts the Father in each of these parables.  We are called to be pazzo d’amore, as St. Catherine of Siena says, crazy in love.  When a person is in love, a new logic takes over, and the love of the beloved becomes the most important. 
    So with our faith and work at evangelization: how do we spread God’s word and God’s grace?  Are we penny-pinchers, very careful with whom we share the Word?  Or are we generous, even to the point of wastefulness, with trying to gain others for Christ?

Fr. Gerard Timoner, OP

    I saw a talk from the Master of the Order of Preachers, Fr. Gerard Timoner, and I can’t even give you the exact context or date, but it fits well here.  He is addressing Dominicans, and especially their charism to preach.  But he uses two examples of those who have care for others in the Gospel: shepherds and fishermen.  To paraphrase and summarize, he talks about how shepherds are those who care for what is already there.  Their responsibility is to make sure that the sheep are safe from the wolves, and even to go after lost sheep when they wander away.  A shepherd has to make sure the sheep are led to good pastures.  It is, in some sense, more static.  A fisherman, instead, has nothing to guard.  He has to go fishing.  His role is going out to catch the fish and bring them into the nets; he cannot stand along the shoreline and wait for the fish to come to him.  In reality, the Dominican Master says, the vocation of a Dominican is both shepherd and fisherman: both to guard what is already there, as well as to go out and catch what is not there yet.  I would argue that our vocation as disciples mimics that of the Dominicans: we have a duty to guard the truth in our lives–family, friends, etc.  But we cannot simply hope that other people will simply come to us because we guard the truth so well.  We also have to go out and catch others and bring them into our nets.  In a sense, we are called to catch fish, and then turn them into sheep.  We invite people to follow Christ, and then help them stay in His one Church. 
    When it comes to our secular life, I’m all about doing the least to get the most results.  But when it comes to our life of faith, when it comes to sharing the Gospel, Christ invites us to mimic our extravagant Father, who shares His grace and His Word even when it doesn’t seem to make sense, and who lives and reigns with the Son and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.  

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 𝛼𝜌𝜏𝜊𝜈…𝜏𝜊𝜈 𝜀𝜋𝜄𝜊𝜐𝜎𝜄𝜊𝜈, 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. 

More Enduring than a Maytag

Last Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I don’t feel that I’m that old, but more and more the cultural things that seem part and parcel of my life are more and more disconnected from the youth today.  For example, I remember the Maytag commercials, with the Maytag repairman sitting in his office, waiting for the phone to ring.  For me, when I think of things that last and that don’t break down, I think of the Maytag man.  I’m not sure young people today would even know who the Maytag man is.

    Our Lord today focuses on a lot of things that will happen at the end, or as the end approaches.  There are things that will come, and things that will go.  There will be great trials and tribulations.  False messiahs and false prophets will arise and do great wonders.  “The sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars will fall from heaven.”  Then the angels will accompany the coming of the Son of Man, with a trumpet and a loud voice.  These are the things from which itinerant and television preachers make a lot of money and gain lots of fame.  They are all sure that they know that the end is coming very soon, even though our Lord Himself says that only the Father knows the time, not the angels nor even the Son. 
    But the last words of the Gospel today remind us, that while things will come and go as the end approaches (and the end is approaching; it’s closer today than it was yesterday), there is one thing that will not change.  “Heaven and earth shall pass away,” Christ says, “but my words shall not pass away.” 
    The word of God is enduing; it lasts forever.  It does not come and go based on empires and nations, based upon fads and societal norms.  It endures forever.  And if we wish to survive whatever trials and tribulations will come, whenever they come (which they will), we need to be grounded in the Word of God, which is the rock foundation upon which our house should be built if we don’t want it to be swept away with the floods.
    When Catholics use the phrase “Word of God,” we can use it in different ways.  We use it to describe the second Person of the Blessed Trinity, Jesus Christ.  He is the Word through whom all things were made, the eternal Word of God, whom we profess every time we say the Prologue of the Gospel of John.  Christ is the expression of the Father who reveals to us who the Father is.  He is the Divine Word who speaks words that help us know the way to the Father, which is the desired destiny for all those whom God has created in His image and likeness.  So when we talk abut the Word of God, we use that phrase par excellence to refer to Christ.
    We can also use it to refer to the words of writing that were inspired by the Word of God.  We speak of the Word of God as the Scriptures, the privileged communication of God throughout the centuries.  Most religions are humanity seeking after God.  In Judaism, and its fulfillment in Catholicism, God seeks after us, and communicates who He is, how He made the world, and how we are to find true and lasting happiness.  While we are described by Muslims as people of the book, we are really people of the Word, who treasure what God has revealed to us in the Scriptures.  The public revelation of God through the Scriptures leads up in the Old Testament to the coming of the Messiah in the Gospels, and then opens up the consequences of what the Messiah did for us through the rest of the New Testament.  We find a sure guide in the Scriptures of understanding God and knowing how we are to live as disciples of Christ.
    But the Scriptures need unpacking to help us understand which parts are to be taken literally, and which parts are different literary expressions of deeper truths.  Sometimes the same grammatical structures express two different types of truth.  For example, in the Gospel according to John, our Lord says that He is the Bread of Life.  And that is what we believe He is, especially in our understanding of the Eucharist.  We take that quite literally.  In another place, Christ says that He is the vine, and we are the branches.  But we don’t confess our Savior to be a plant.  Same grammatical structure, different interpretation.  And so the Word of God can also mean the authentically and authoritative interpretations of Scripture that we find in the teachings of the Church.  From the consubstantiality of the Son with the Father, to the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, God’s word is also made manifest when the Mystical Body of Christ the Word, also known as the Church, teaches something as necessary for true faith or morals.  Official Church teachings are also God communicating to us for our salvation, and are sure guides to being the disciples and saints that God calls us to be in baptism.  Ecumenical Councils, and magisterial teachings of the Pope and the Bishops continue to open up the Word of God and help us to know who God is in Himself and in His works. 
    The Word of God does not change, and we can safely build our houses on it, really, on Him, since Christ is the Word of God.  We don’t have to know exactly when the Son of Man will return.  But we do need to be attentive to the Son of Man and what He revealed to us.  And if we do, then we will be part of the elect who will survive the trials and tribulations that the Savior mentions in the Gospel.  If we build our life on the Word of God–Jesus Christ, the Scriptures, and the official teachings of the Church–then the end is not a fearful time, but the consummation of our Lord’s love for us and our love for the Lord.  If we build our life on the Word of God, and do our best to follow it each and every day, then it doesn’t matter when that great and glorious and terrible day of our Lord’s return is, because we are ready each day for Him to come back and take us to Himself. 
    Maytags were advertised as washing machines that were so reliable, that their repairmen had nothing to do.  But even more as something that lasts is the Word of God, which is the same yesterday, today, and forever, because the Word of God is Christ the Son, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign forever and ever.  Amen.  

First Weekend Message

 Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time-St. Matthew
 

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

What Good is the Word?

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time–Sunday of the Word of God

    This year, Pope Francis has inaugurated a new focus for this third Sunday of Ordinary Time.  He has decreed that the third Sunday of Ordinary Time is especially to be centered on the Word of God.  In his Apostolic Letter that created this celebration, Pope Francis writes, “without the Scriptures, the events of the mission of Jesus and of his Church in this world would remain incomprehensible.  Hence, Saint Jerome could rightly claim: ‘Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ.’”
    For Catholics, especially of a particular age, the Scriptures may be a bit foreign.  Indeed, some of you have even told me that, while growing up, you were discouraged by priests, nuns, and others, from reading the Word of God.  While we do have some active Bible study groups here, some of you may be thinking: what good would it do me to read the Bible more?  I’ve gotten along without it just fine for this long!
    The Word of God, as divinely revealed in Sacred Scripture, and faithfully communicated and interpreted through the teaching of the Church, is meant to be the guide for our life.  In the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation, entitled Dei Verbum, of the Second Vatican Council, the Church teaches:

both [sacred tradition and Sacred Scripture], flowing from the same divine wellspring…merge into a unity and tend toward the same end.  For Sacred Scripture is the word of God inasmuch as it is consigned to writing under the inspiration of the divine Spirit, while sacred tradition takes the word of God entrusted by Christ the Lord and the Holy Spirit to the Apostles, and hands it on to their successors in its full purity, so that led by the light of the Spirit of truth, they may in proclaiming it preserve the word of God faithfully, explain it, and make it more widely known. […] Therefore both sacred tradition and Sacred Scripture are to be accepted and venerated with the same sense of loyalty and reverence.

When we sang, with the Psalmist, “The Lord is my light and my salvation,” what we were saying is that the Lord illuminates the path that I am to take towards heaven.  The Word of God gives us a great light, whereas without it we walk in darkness.  It brings us “abundant joy and great rejoicing.”  It gives us freedom from the yoke of sin that burdens us.
    The Word of God is also meant to bring about the unity of Jesus’ followers, and all those who are created in the image and likeness of God.  Humanity tends towards disunity; it is, we might say, the communal law of entropy.  Even in St. Paul’s time, he writes that divisions are creeping in among the Christians of Corinth: “each of you is saying, ‘I belong to Paul,’ or ‘I belong to Apollos,’ or ‘I belong to Cephas,’ or ‘I belong to Christ.’”  When we are left to our own machinations, we tend to divide.  The Word of God, given to us through Sacred Scripture and faithfully interpreted by the teaching office of the Church, holds together what Satan wants to sift apart.
    Lastly, as we hear from our Gospel today, the Word of God calls us on to mission.  Jesus, the eternal Word (in Greek: Logos) of God the Father, calls the first apostles, Simon and Andrew, and also James and John, and invites them to follow Him, so that He might make them “fishers of men.”  It’s not as if the Word of God is meant to stay stagnant in our lives.  It is meant to change us, and to urge us on to making other disciples.  If our engagement with the Word of God doesn’t draw us to make other disciples, then we’re not getting all that God wants to share with us through His Word.
    Now, I know, those are a lot of high-level ideals.  But does the Word of God make a difference in my real life?  It can, if we are open to its effects.  In the first way, it helps us to make decisions on how we spend our time and money, helps us to know how to interact with others, and assists us in making both big life decisions and the smaller daily decisions by shining the light of Christ on the path we are seeking to travel, to see if it’s a good path or a dangerous path.
    In the second case, there are a lot of people who claim to follow Jesus, but the Word of God can help us evaluate whether their encouragements of what to believe and how to live are truly from God and live up to His wisdom, as expressed in Sacred Scripture and the teachings of the Church.  Both are necessary, as we see Christian communities who were historically founded on the Scriptures as the only rule of faith, now allowing and sometimes even promoting activities which are in direct contradiction to the Sacred Scripture.  We avoid division by staying faithful to the Word of God as expressed in the Bible and faithfully interpreted by the apostles and their successors, the bishops, teaching in union with the Pope. 
    In the third case, the more that we hear the Good News expressed in the Word of God–that God loves us, God has a plan for us, God forgives us, God has saved and is saving us–the more we want others to hear that news.  Bible studies cannot be ends in themselves, but should push us to share with our family and friends and neighbors that Good News, and how following God can change our lives for the better. 
    Today God reminds us that His Word is light, unity, and mission.  May our hearing of the Word of God, and our daily engagement with it, bring that light, unity, and mission to our lives, that we may share that light, unity, and mission with those that we encounter each day.

Worldly vs. Catholic Wisdom

Third Sunday of Lent

Have you ever noticed that there is never a shortage of people who are willing to give you advice?  I suppose I might be cutting out my legs from under me, as most homilies are supposed to help people find practical way to apply the Gospel to their daily lives.  But, just think about it: how many TV shows or commercials are basically trying to give you advice on how to diet, how to learn, how to understand what’s happening in the world, in politics, in sports?  Maybe it’s “Dr. Oz,” maybe it’s “The View,” maybe it’s a commercial with your favorite celebrity on a political or social issue, maybe it’s a talk show on your preferred cable news station, or maybe it’s even the way the news is presented by individual networks.  But advice seems to be everywhere from people who want to tell you how to live your life.

This is, of course, nothing new.  Different groups have always been trying to influence the way people think, trying to get people to live their life based on a particular view of reality.  And with the advent of social media, that has only increased.  You can’t scroll Facebook or Twitter without seeing pithy quotes that are supposed to help you be a better person.  Sometimes the phrase sounds good, but in fact, isn’t really Catholic or Christian.  For example, I saw a post on Facebook the other day that said, “There is no turning your back on God.  There is only turning your back on yourself.”  Sounds profound, deep, insightful, right?  It’s rubbish!  Of course you can turn your back on God!  There are so many quotes like this that are from non-Christian or secular websites or pages that may sound amazing, but, in fact, are contrary to Scripture.  And we should be wary about giving our minds and our will to any wisdom that doesn’t come from God through the Scriptures or the Church’s teaching.  I’m not saying it’s all bad, but much of it is, and we don’t want to be poisoned by something that we think might be good.  Imagine picking mushrooms, not knowing which ones are good and which ones will kill you, and leaving behind the guidebook to which ones to consume.  That’s what it is to take wisdom from a non-Christian or secular source without running it past what God has revealed to us.

And what is the wisdom that God gives to us?  The wisdom of God is Christ crucified.  It seems like foolishness and maybe makes people stumble, but our crucified Christ is “wiser than human wisdom,” as St. Paul said in our second reading.  The life of Christ is not only a story, it is a pattern, a guide for all those who want to find happiness.  I know, it may not look like Jesus’ life had a lot of happiness: He was poor, wandered around, most of His best friends abandoned Him when He needed them the most, and He died mostly surrounded by His enemies in a most shameful way of dying.  Sign me up for that, right?

But God raised Jesus up, and, in fact, we have no evidence that Jesus ever seemed to want for anything, or lack any happiness.  He felt sorrow for those who couldn’t or wouldn’t follow Him, but I think it’s pretty safe to say that the Gospels paint Jesus as a happy Person.  He didn’t have money; He didn’t have power (in the way the world sees power); He didn’t have sex (do people really do that?!?).  But Jesus was happy; truly happy.  And He was happy because He lived by God’s Word, the words of everlasting life, as our Psalm response said this morning.  

The Ten Commandments that we heard in our first reading seem like a long list of nos that cramp our style: no idols, no taking God’s Name in vain; no work on the Sabbath; no murder, no adultery, not stealing, no lying, no coveting; the only really positive commandment is “Honor your father and your mother.”  And yet, that wisdom from God which seems so negative, opens us up to a larger ability to say yes.  By not doing menial work on Sunday, the Christian Sabbath, the day of the Resurrection, we are saying yes to enjoying time with our family, maybe even with a family dinner; to serving the poor; to worshipping God and being fed by God’s word and the Body and Blood of Jesus.  And all that because we take a break from work that will always be there.  Think about the people who say yes to taking whatever they want, even if they don’t have the money to pay for it: they may get away with stealing a candy bar or maybe something more, but eventually it catches up with them, and they end up being prosecuted, maybe even going to jail.  And I don’t know many, if any people, who are happy and in jail.  So by saying no to stealing, they are saying yes to freedom, to more opportunities, and to a happier life.

Sometimes living by the wisdom of the Word of God may seem like simply a lot of nos.  But in fact, the ways that God asks us to say no actually allows us to say yes: yes to God, yes to love, yes to peace, yes to happiness.  May our Lenten observances also encourage us to say no to all the things that bring us death and slavery, to our sins, and say yes to all the things that bring us life and freedom, to God’s grace.

Backwards and Forwards

Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Pius X Church

Today we have the great joy of celebrating the Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Pius X Catholic Church.  We have the chance to exclaim with the psalmist, “How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord God of Hosts.”  This may seem odd that we would take a day to celebrate a building.  But as Catholics, we know that the material world has been redeemed in Christ and sanctified, and what is visible has become a way for the invisible to be communicated.  Bricks and mortar are no longer bricks and mortar, but are elements that remind us that each of us plays a role in building up the kingdom of God.

But how do Catholics view a church building?  While this sense has been lost by many, a church building is not about functionality.  Church buildings do not exist simply so that people can stay protected from the rain and snow, the heat and the cold.  Our church building is a temple for the True God, which points us back to the Temple that King Solomon built (we heard about that in our first reading today, and it was alluded to in the Gospel).  And that temple points us back to the Garden of Eden, the place of paradise where humanity and God could dwell in peace and harmony.  But it also looks forward to the heavenly Jerusalem, the temple not built by hands, eternal with God.

The temple was divided into different parts.  There were different courts, or areas where people could gather to pray.  Then there was the sanctuary, where the priests could go and offer sacrifices, some of which went to God, some of which went to the priest, and some of which were given back to the people.  Then there was the Holy of Holies, the inner sanctuary, where the High Priest could go, once a year on the Jewish Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur, and ask forgiveness for all the sins of the previous year.  

In our own church building, we have different areas.  We have the narthex, sometimes called the gathering space, where people are welcomed to the church each time they come to Mass.  This is the place where we can speak to each other and find out how each other has been since the last time we saw them.  Then we have the nave, the place where the pews and the choir are, the place where we have devotional candles set up.  This is the place of prayer, where our focus changes from talking to our neighbor to talking to God, the best friend of our soul, who rejoices with us in our joys, and comforts us in our sorrows.  Then there is our sanctuary, the raised area where the Word of God is proclaimed and the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross at Calvary is re-presented for us.  This is a place that is proper to the priest, but into which other commissioned extraordinary ministers of the Word and of Holy Communion, and servers are invited in during particular parts of the Mass to assist the priest.  And at the head of our sanctuary is the Tabernacle, the Seat of Mercy of God, which holds our reserve Blessed Sacrament.  Christ remains here with us, always interceding for forgiveness for our sins before God the Father.  

But our church also points back to the Garden of Eden.  No, this doesn’t mean we get to be naked in church; no one wants that!  But it is meant to be a place of peace and harmony with God.  In this building God speaks to us directly, as He spoke to Adam and Eve, helping us to know what His will is for us, both as a Church and as individuals.  God also feeds us, as He gave Adam and Eve every good food for their sustenance.  God gives us the Body and Blood of His Son, the bread of eternal life, which sustains our souls as we try to follow Jesus.  And in the center of this Garden of Eden is the tree of life, the Crucifix, from which we are able to receive eternal life because of the sacrifice of Jesus, the unblemished Lamb, whose Blood speaks more eloquently than that of Abel, the son of our first parents.  That is why the Crucifix plays such an important role in our faith and in our church: because it is the source of immortality for all who believe and unite their lives to it.

But our church also looks forward to heaven.  In fact, in the Mass, the veil that separates heaven and earth is pulled back, and we are able to anticipate here on earth the glory and peace of heaven.  As the Book of Revelation says, those who have been redeemed sing, “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts” to God the Father and to the Lamb who was slain but lives.  We worship with all the angels and saints, of which our few statues, and in the future our icons, will remind us.  We see those here on earth who worship God, but we probably do not see the myriad, the thousands upon thousands of angels and saints who join with us in worshipping God.  In this church we also anticipate heaven we are also called to leave the fallen world behind, and so we are invited to “lift up our hearts” from the fallenness of our world to the perfection of heaven.  

That all sounds nice, but how does it affect us?  How does our understanding of the church building help us follow Jesus?  It changes the way we behave, the reason why we try to keep quiet in the nave, so that everyone can pray to God in the silence of our hearts; the reason why we don’t chew gum or drink coffee as if this were simply an auditorium.  But it also gives us a reason to return each week.  Who here doesn’t need a break from our fallen world?  Who here doesn’t want to have communion with God?  Who here doesn’t need time away from technology and the cacophony of sounds to have time with God in the silence?  I know I do!  And, as we have a chance to be refreshed by God, we can then better respond to our fallen world, and share the love and the truth that Jesus calls us to spread as He calls us His disciples.  

So while we celebrate a building today, we celebrate a place that prepares us for heaven, and allows us in our own time to taste a little of eternity.  And that is certainly good news for us, who need to hear God and be fed by Him.  And for that reason, we can all say, “How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord God of Hosts.”

Becoming Rich Soil

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

I would never say that I have a green thumb.  In fact, plants inside my room or house tend to die.  I once even killed a cactus that I had in college.  And yet, I love planting things.  Last October I planted a couple of small rose bushes and some mums; this past April I planted some of the left-over Easter plants along the sidewalk, and in May I planted some lily bulbs and a few peonies starters.  Some of them are doing well; others I haven’t seen make it through the dirt yet.

Today Jesus talks about being good soil to receive the seed of God’s Word.  We’ve heard this parable a lot, and I have to be honest, as a preacher, this is one of the hardest Gospels to preach on, because Jesus Himself explains what it means.  I have a kind of dread when this Gospel comes up, because I don’t want to be a boring preacher, and I’m especially afraid of that when this parable is the Gospel for the day.

But I thought that this year what would be helpful would be looking at the kinds of things that we can do to be good soil.  Again, Jesus’ point is obvious, we should be rich soil so that we can hear the Word of God, understand it, and then have it make a difference in our life.  But maybe we’re not rich soil yet; maybe we’re rocky ground, maybe we surrounded by thorns that want to choke the Word of God out.  So how do we change that?  How can we be rich soil?

There are a few things that can change our faith lives to be more receptive.  I won’t give an exhaustive list, but I’ll give a few basic ideas that almost anyone can do to help make them more receptive to God, and to grow in their relationship with Jesus.

The first basic thing we can do to change our lives to be more God-centered, to help in our relationship with Jesus, is to actually read the Word of God.  Other than at Mass, how much exposure do we have to the Word of God?  We have Bible studies from time to time that we offer through the parish.  But even if you can’t make those, read a chapter of the Gospels each day.  Start with Matthew, chapter one, and go through John, chapter twenty-one.  And when you finish that, read the Acts of the Apostles, St. Paul’s letters, the other Catholic letters, and then finish up with Revelation.  One chapter per day won’t overwhelm you (hopefully), and most Bibles have footnotes in case there’s a passage you don’t understand.  If you want something more in-depth, you can also get a Catholic Study Bible, or get a Catechism and look up what the Church says about that passage.

Another basic thing we can do to change our lives to be God-centered, to help in our relationship with Jesus, is to pray the Rosary and/or the Chaplet of Divine Mercy.  For some Catholics now, the only time they pray the Rosary is the night before a funeral.  But the Rosary is a beautiful prayer focused on the mysteries of the Lord’s life, beginning with His conception at the Annunciation, and ending with Him crowning His Blessed Mother as Queen of Heaven and Earth.  You don’t have to pray all 20 mysteries every day, but maybe try to pray one Rosary each week, especially together as a family.  Yes, the kids probably won’t like it; I didn’t when I was younger.  But it made a huge impression on me and gave me a way to pray.  You can even now use your smart phone to pray the Rosary.  During each Our Father, Hail Mary, or Glory Be, think about the mystery, joyous, luminous, sorrowful, or glorious, of Jesus’ life, Death, and Resurrection.

The Chaplet of Divine Mercy is another great prayer.  We have our Divine Mercy Apostolate that meets on a regular basis, but it’s also something you can do in your home.  And if you feel one Rosary is too long, try the chaplet.  It’s prayed using Rosary beads, but the prayers are shorter.  The Chaplet of Divine Mercy focuses on Jesus’ merciful love for us, shown especially in His sorrowful Passion.  You might have to look up the prayers the first few times you pray it, but it’s easy to memorize them.

Speaking of mercy, another great way to be God-centered and to deepen our relationship with Jesus is through regular confession.  You don’t have to be a horrible sinner to go to confession (though if you are a horrible sinner, you definitely need confessions!).  So-called devotional confession, where one confesses even simply venial sins on a regular basis is a great way to weed the garden of our hearts.  I hate weeding, usually because I let the weeds go a long time, and then it takes a long time to get them out of the ground.  But if I would weed regularly, there wouldn’t be as many weeds to pull (or, in my case, spray Round-Up on).  The same goes for our spiritual life: the longer we let our sins go, the more invasive they become.  Even venial sins add up and make it more likely to commit major (we call them grave or mortal) sins.  And if we go regularly, it’s easier to remember what we need God’s mercy for, and be strengthened to avoid those sins in the future.  We offer the Sacrament of Penance every Tuesday from 5:30-6:00 p.m, and every Saturday from 3:00-4:00 p.m., and by appointment if those times don’t work.  

None of these things is rocket science.  None are overly complicated.  And yet, if we try even just one or two of these simple things, I am confident we will find our spiritual lives changing for the better.  We will become, by the grace of God, rich soil, which is more receptive to His word, so that we can bear fruit “a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.”

Pope of Carman Hills

Third Sunday of Easter

Sometimes people don’t quite get it.  This past Thursday I decided to go to the Powers Boys Lacrosse game.  They were playing at Davison.  While the first half wasn’t so great, Powers managed to get their offense going, and really did well on defense, and ended up winning 12-6.  At the end of the game, we all lined up to shake hands and say good game.  As I passed one of the Davison players and shook his hand, I heard him say as they passed me, “Dude, they brought their pope!”  Now, to be clear, I have no aspirations of being anything other than a parish priest.  But maybe if Fr. Tom Firestone can be the Pope of Flint, then I could be the Pope of Carman Hills!

The disciples in today’s Gospel were the ones who didn’t quite get it.  We’ve heard this Gospel passage before, and we’re probably quite familiar with it.  On Easter Sunday, the very day Jesus rose from the dead, two disciples, one of who was named Cleopas are walking away from Jerusalem.  They had heard Mary Magdalen tell the apostles that Jesus was risen from the dead, but they don’t believe her.  They figure all their hope that Jesus truly was the Messiah is hopeless.  And then this guy comes up to walk beside them, though they don’t recognize Him.  

As they walk, this guy talks about how the suffering of the Messiah was prophesied by the entire Old Testament, and He gives them the different passages that refer to the Messiah and how they were fulfilled.  As the two approach Emmaus, the guy acts like He’s going farther.  But they invite Him to stay with them, because it’s dark, and there would likely be robbers along the road.  So the guy stays with them, and says the blessing of the bread, breaks it, and gives it to them.  At that, “their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight.”  They then run back to tell the others that they, too, have seen the risen Lord.

Even though these two disciples had been with Jesus for some time, maybe even all three years, spending days and nights with Jesus, only rarely leaving His side, they didn’t quite get it.  They didn’t understand why the Messiah had to suffer and die, and they didn’t believe He rose from the dead.  It takes Jesus being present with them, opening up the Word of God, and especially the breaking of bread for them to recognize Him.

Do we quite get it?  Or do we walk through this world downcast, as if our hope in Jesus wasn’t worth much?  Do we live as if Jesus has not been raised from the dead?

In essence, the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus is a paradigm for the Mass.  Think about it: there’s a walk, we might call it a procession; the Lord is with them; the Word of God is opened up by Jesus; and then Jesus blesses bread, breaks it, and gives it to the disciples.  This should sound familiar, because it’s what happens at every Mass.  The priest, acting in the Person of Christ the Head, processes into the sanctuary; he says, “The Lord be with you;”  the Word of God is proclaimed from the Old Testament, New Testament, and is applied in the homily; then the priest, still acting in the Person of Christ the Head, changes the bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, and the Eucharist is then given to those who follow Jesus in the one Church He established.  The Second Vatican Council says it this way: 

“[Christ] is present in the sacrifice of the Mass, not only in the person of His minister, ‘the same now offering, through the ministry of priests, who formerly offered himself on the cross’, but especially under the Eucharistic species.  […] He is present in His word, since it is He Himself who speaks when the holy scriptures are read in the Church.  He is presently, lastly, when the Church prays and sings, for He promised: ‘Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them’.”  

Each Mass, and especially on Sunday, the first day of the week, the very day of the Resurrection, we might say we relive the road to Emmaus.  

But there is another part to the story which I didn’t mention.  After the encounter with Jesus on the road to Emmaus, the disciples run back to tell the others about Jesus being risen from the dead.  This encounter with Jesus changes them and they can’t help but talk about seeing Jesus.  Do we relive this part of Emmaus?  Does our encounter with Jesus so affect us that we want to tell others about Jesus, risen from the dead?

There has been a lot of ink spilled recently about encountering Jesus.  There are many programs and retreats that encourage such an encounter with Jesus, and many of them are good!  But the Mass is the pre-eminent place to encounter Jesus.  It is the place where we, most often, get to spend time with Jesus.  Yes, it’s the same basic format every week.  But this unchanging format allows us the opportunity to enter more deeply into the Mass, rather than remaining at a superficial level at all the stuff that is different.  

If we’re not encountering Jesus in the Mass, then why are we not?  Is Jesus holding Himself back?  Certainly not.  It isn’t all about feelings; we can encounter Jesus without having a gushy, emotional response.  But we should have some sense that we have spent time with Jesus.  And if we don’t, then maybe we haven’t brought our full attention to the Mass, or having been holding something back from Jesus.  Today we have the opportunity, as we do every Sunday and every time we come to Mass, to encounter Jesus walking with us, opening the Word of God for us, and giving Himself to us in the Eucharist.  Hopefully we are open so that the Mass will transform us as it transformed the disciples on the road to Emmaus.

Preserving and Enlightening Society

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The stereotypical Catholic home in the early 1960s, so I’m told, had 3 pictures in their house: one picture was of the Sacred Heart of Jesus; one picture was of the Pope (which would have been Pope John XXIII); and one picture was of John F. Kennedy.  The first two make sense without explanation.  The third makes sense to any Catholic, because John F. Kennedy was the first Catholic elected president of the United States.  

On 12 September 1960, while still running for president, JFK gave a famous address to the Greater Houston Ministerial Association.  That speech specifically touched on his religion (there was then, as there remains today, a certain popular anti-Catholicism), as well as religious liberty.  He had many good points in that speech, talking about other important issues as well, including encouraging others to work together, rather than let confessional differences tear the country apart.  Of course, in that time, there was still a general Judeo-Christian culture, prayers were said even in public schools, and many businesses were closed every Sunday and Good Friday.

But, in that speech, JFK seemed to also suggest, if not outright say, that one’s religion should not dictate how one acts in a pluralistic society.  Because there are so many religions in America, when it comes to the choices that individuals make in politics, they should check their faith at the doors of the chambers of the legislature or the doors of the oval office.

Fifty years later, Archbishop Charles Chaput, Archbishop of Philadelphia in Pennsylvania, wrote a critical response to Kennedy’s speech, which, he says, did not so much talk about different faiths and the roles they play in American society, but sought to make politics a no-man’s land when it comes to religion.  In part of Archbishop Chaput’s speech, he cites part of the Gospel we heard today when he says, “Human law teaches and forms as well as regulates; and human politics is the exercise of power – which means both have moral implications that the Christian cannot ignore and still remain faithful to his vocation as a light to the world.”

When Jesus says today, “‘You are the salt of the earth’” and “You are the light of the world’” He does not add the caveat, “unless you live in a pluralistic and polyreligious country.”  In fact, Jesus spoke these words in a country that was under foreign occupation, with only a puppet king, whose strings were pulled by a pagan, Roman government, many of whose values directly contradicted God’s revelation in the Tanakh, the Jewish Scriptures.  No, Jesus tells us that we are to give the earth a certain flavor, and we are to provide for the world a certain light, so that others may see our good deeds and glorify our heavenly Father, the true God.

Salt in Jesus’ time wasn’t just about flavor, either; it was a preservative.  It kept things from becoming rotten.  And light wasn’t as simple as flipping a switch; it didn’t exist along roadways automatically when it became dark out.  Light required fuel of some kind, but that fuel kept people from tripping and harming themselves, and guided their feet to their destination.  Light helped individuals encounter each other even as the darkness of night surrounded them.

Brothers and sisters, I don’t think it’s grossly unfair to say that, in many ways, our society has become rotten.  People no longer encounter each other in the light, but seek to control and harm each other in darkness.  Why has this happened?  It would be too facile to say that it is because so many politicians (though not all) check their religion at the door.  But think of how many Catholics are in government today, and how many of them say, “My faith says X is wrong, but I can’t force my faith on others, so I’m going to support X.”  Reasonable people can disagree on how best to implement different aspects of the Gospel, but so many today don’t even think the Gospel has any place in American society.  

But politicians are not the only ones to blame for our current state of affairs.  It is also because Christians do not always try to be salt and light.  In fact, we have, in too many circumstances, become flavored with a taste that is not from the Gospel, and have been guided by a light which does not come from Christ.  We have fallen victim to the ideology that states that we have the freedom of worship, not the freedom of religion.  We can worship God however we want in our churches, but we cannot take the teachings of Jesus out of the church buildings and into our homes, workplaces, and even our government.  I believe that Kennedy sought to assure people that Catholics could be good Americans; but the result we see today is the same that Kennedy’s Irish forebears saw when they came to the US: Catholics need not apply or be engaged in American society.

If we wish to preserve what is good in society; if we wish to be a truly enlightened society, we must first be convinced by what Jesus teaches, and then live it out in all aspects of our lives.  Do we take the Word of God seriously when it says, “Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when you see them.  […] Remove from your midst oppression, false accusation and malicious speech”?  Or are those just pious words that are meant to do nothing else but bounce off the brick walls of this church and die in the air?

If we are not the salt of the earth and the light of the world, then our culture, our nation, our politics will continue to spoil, and will soon become rancid.  Darkness will surround us.  Our vocation, our call in Jesus, is to be salt and light.  To paraphrase Kennedy in another speech, let us not seek the Republican answer or the Democratic answer, but the Catholic answer.  Let us be salt and light.