People of Constant Sorrow and Joy

Third Sunday after Easter
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I first heard the song, “Man of Constant Sorrow” while watching the 2000 Cohen brothers movie, “O Brother Where Art Thou?”  And while it didn’t strike me as religious, the lyrics mirror what the Lord says in today’s Gospel: that we will have sorrow here, but joy after.  
    The song talks about the sorrow of leaving Kentucky (a sorrow I can relate to, though I was neither born nor raised there), the sorrow of rambling through the world without any friends, of leaving a true love, and that true love loving another after the singer is dead and buried.  “But,” as the song continues, “there is one promise that is given / I’ll meet you on God’s golden shore.”  
    While, in my own experience, leaving Kentucky is truly sorrowful, the sorrow our Lord talks about in the Gospel consists in the reality that the world does not conform to God’s plan.  Our Lord shares these words in the context of the Last Supper, as He prepares to be judged in a sham trial and be put to death by a strange alliance of Pharisees and Pontius Pilate and Roman soldiers.  We can think of no greater sorrow, no greater demonstration that the world is not as it should be, than putting God’s own Son to death in such a gruesome way.
    But the messed-up state of the world did not end there.  It continues because of sin: our own personal sins, and the sins of cultures, societies, and governments.  Even we, who have received the saving washing of Holy Baptism, still suffer under concupiscence, the inordinate desires of our lives not in accord with the will of God, and fall short of the august call that God has given us to be His adopted children in Christ.  Our sins, and the sins that we experience, should cause us sorrow.  Wars, even if necessary, should cause us sorrow at the destruction of life and property.  Illness and disease, things that are not necessarily due to anyone’s choices, should cause us sorrow because God has made us for health and integrity.  
    But, even as we pass through this vale of tears, in hac lacrimarum valle, as we say in the Salve Regina, we should also have joy.  Our joy comes not from a human solution to wars, illness, and personal evil, but from Christ who has conquered sin and all its effects, death, and even natural evils.  Our joy comes from the knowledge that we threw everything evil at Christ that we could think of, all our hate, all our dysfunction, all our sin and death, and while it looked for a while like He had been conquered, He rose victorious on the third day and proved that nothing has more power than God, and that God can turn into life and light even the worst death and darkness that we give Him.

    Our joy should come from the understanding that God did not simply raise our Lord for His own benefit, but also for ours, and that God has given us a way to be joined to the Risen Christ through Holy Baptism, a once-for-all event in our life that we have to choose to ratify each day if we wish to share in its full benefits.  Our joy comes from knowing that, if we cling to Christ, turn away from our sins, and do all that we can to reject Satan and sin, then we, too, will find victory over death and darkness.  And that can keep us going.
    It is the joy that mothers keep in mind as they suffer through pregnancy.  All the morning sickness, all the stretch marks, all the back pain, all the swollen feet and ankles, all the pain of delivery (which, all joking aside, I do believe exceeds even a man-cold), is worth it because of a new child and the joy that comes from holding that child in her arms, a result of the love shared between her and her husband.  
    But we have to keep that in mind, otherwise it just seems like trials.  And when we only consider our trials, they can wear us down, depress us, lead us into despair.  When we forget about heaven and the perfect happiness that comes from union with Christ, the sufferings we endure and the sufferings we choose to endure in order to follow Christ don’t seem to make any sense.  If heaven doesn’t exist, then why would I curtail the desires of my body?  If heaven doesn’t exist, then when would I give up meat on Fridays?  If heaven doesn’t exist, then why wouldn’t I do whatever I needed to be the most powerful, the most famous, the most rich?  If Christ is not raised from the dead, as St. Paul says, then we are the most pitiable of people because all the ways we die to ourselves seem foolish.  But if there is life after death, a life that can be filled with happiness if we live like Christ (or a life that can be filled with suffering if we only seek out pleasure on earth), then no matter what pain or sorrow we go through on our way, the destination is worth it.  To use an analogy, driving through Ohio is worth it only if Kentucky is on the other side of Cincinnati.  
    We are, in some sense, men and women of constant sorrow, because Christ has not yet returned to usher in the fullness of His Kingdom.  We leave Kentucky, we ramble through life, we lose friends and loved ones, we go each day towards the grave.  “But there is one promise that is given”: that through living the life of Christ, the life of the Easter, the life of resurrection, we can meet Him and all the saints on God’s golden shore, where He reigns–the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit–for ever and ever.  Amen.  

The Peace of the Risen Christ

Third Sunday after Easter
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I’m going to apologize up front here, because this will probably not be my best homily.  Between vacation (which wasn’t that restful) and trainings for the Michigan State Police I needed to attend, I feel like I’ve been playing catch-up and simply dealing with things as they pop up, like an arcade game of whack a mole.  In addition, a friend of mine who is a Trooper was shot early on Monday morning in Detroit, and I have been trying to help him and his fiancee, whose wedding I will celebrate in October, deal with his serious injury (he’s going to be fine, but he will certainly need some time before he gets back to work).
    So I’m giving this the best I have.  I haven’t had my usual times to think and pray over the readings like I normally do.  I don’t have any funny or deep connections to make at the beginning to draw you in.  I have to preach, and I’m relying on the Holy Spirit to hopefully help draw you ever more deeply into the sacred mysteries and how the Word of God applies to our daily lives (the Holy Spirit is always the one who gives any good message, I just feel like I usually have more time and energy to cooperate with Him than I have had this week).
    The Catholic life is always simply giving our best and allowing God to work out what has to happen.  We don’t see Christ in the Body in the same way that the Apostles did.  That should give us a certain sadness.  We fight through struggles; we can seem overwhelmed by our family situations, by work, by the fears of the world which seeks to silence the Gospel and which so often drives toward violence and division.  Sometimes all of this weighs heavy on our heart.  We are like our Lord described, a woman in labor, who struggles through intense pain, giving all she has.  

    In the midst of this; in the midst of the chaos and busyness of my own life and the reality that I cannot be everywhere to help everyone, nor can I be all things to all people, the first words of Pope Leo XIV rang in my ears: “Peace be with you.”  He continued, “this was the first greeting of the risen Christ, the good shepherd who gave His life for the flock of God.”  
    And this is the only greeting I can share with you today.  The Risen Christ gives you His peace.  He assures as, us His Vicar, the Supreme Pontiff, assured us, “evil will not prevail.”  You are struggling.  You are fighting for truth.  You are working hard to protect and serve your family, your community, your parish, your country.  Sometimes things go well, but so often things break down or go contrary to what you think is best.  Christ did not promise us a world without sorrow, without struggle.  Indeed, He promised us we would have it.  But He also promised that He would see us again and our hearts would rejoice in seeing Him again.  And He promised that the joy of seeing Him again would be a joy no one could take from us.
    The peace and joy that Christ desires to give us can only come when we make room for Him.  When we try to do everything ourselves, without His grace, it all collapses like a house of cards.  We cannot have the peace and joy of Christ if we do not make room in our hearts for Christ Himself.  Sometimes we act like atheists, who do not believe in God and so do not turn to God for help in the midst of our struggles.  But God does not want us to struggle alone.  He wants us to make room for Him in our hearts and in our days, even if it’s simply a few minutes or seconds here and there.  Those stolen moments while the kids nap, or during a snack break in the office, or driving somewhere in the midst of running what seems like a free Uber service, make all the difference in the world, because they invite the peace and joy of Christ back into our minds, hearts, and souls to strengthen us.

Our Lady, Queen of Peace

    And on this Mother’s Day, let us not forget to invoke our heavenly mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary, in whatever struggles we may have.  She is the woman who labors in heaven for our safe deliverance to the Father’s house, who feels the pain of our sorrows and fatigue, who wraps us in her loving embrace when we feel overwhelmed, who shows us that the pains we go through, if united to Christ, can lead to a joy that words cannot fully describe.  Never be afraid to call on her when all seems lost, or like we can’t make it one more day, because she will help us to be open to receive the peace and joy that the risen Christ desires to share with us always.  I will end this homily in the same way our new Holy Father ended his first words at the loggia of St. Peter’s basilica: Hail Mary…. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Joy and Sorrow

Nativity of the Lord: At the Vigil Mass
    This is certainly a unique Christmas Mass.  On the one hand tonight is a time of great rejoicing as we celebrate the birth of our God and Redeemer in the flesh.  On the other hand, this will be the last Christmas this church building will experience as a Catholic church.  For decades, families have gathered on the evening of 24 December to begin their celebration of Christmas by worshiping God.  Bittersweet does not begin to describe what so many of you, and I, are feeling tonight.  I’m not sure there is a word that can quite communicate all the emotions of this final St. Pius X Christmas Mass.

    But while we may vividly understand the prophet Isaiah talking about Israel seeming forsaken, or the land desolate, notice that those terms do not define Israel.  Instead, Isaiah prophecies that Israel shall be called “‘My Delight’” and the land “‘Espoused.’  For the Lord delights in you and makes your land his spouse.”  And, as the Psalmist says, forever God will maintain his kindness toward David and his descendants, and his covenant stands firm.  God has not abandoned us, nor can His covenant with us ever fade away.
    Indeed, even the Nativity itself had a tinge of struggle and sorrow.  What mother would want to give birth to her child, especially a child she knew to be the Son of God, in a cave?  Mary and Joseph were forced to go to Bethlehem to register for the Roman census.  A census was against what God had commanded, and it was being done by a foreign, occupying army.  Forty days after Christmas, when Mary and Joseph presented the Christ child in the temple, Simeon would tell Mary that her heart would be pierced.  And by the time Jesus was two, King Herod would try to kill Him, and kill many other baby boys, as a way to try to get rid of this newborn king. 
    And we also know that God’s ultimate plan, a plan that Jesus fully accepted in His human will, was to die on the cross so that sin and death would be defeated.  So while the Incarnation brought such great joy, it also made possible the worst offense to God that we could have ever committed: killing Him. 
    Still, even with being born in a cave; even with the sorrow that Mary would experience; even with the slaughter of the Holy Innocents; even with the rejection of His own people; even with the crucifixion; God did not abandon us, and brought joy to take the place of all that sorrow because He rose from the dead and defeated sin and death so that we could go to heaven and be perfectly happy with Him for eternity.  No matter how bad things got, God always brought joy and new life. 
    And He does that today.  God gives us the joy as celebrating, one last time, as a parish family, along with the yearly visitors we get for this solemn evening.  He is today, as much as He was some two thousand years ago, Emmanuel, God with us, who will not abandon us.  God will help us to continue to practice our faith in the coming months, just as He helped us practice our faith in this parish for almost seventy years.  God will bring joy and new life out of sorrow and death every time, as long as we remain close to Him and stay faithful to Him. 
    That joy and new life most often come in unexpected times and places.  Remember that no one cared about Mary when she conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit.  She wasn’t a powerful earthly queen; she wasn’t a well-known personality or religious figure.  She was a humble young woman, dedicated to doing God’s will.  Bethlehem, as the prophet Micah says, was the “least among the clans of Judah.”  The Roman province of Judea was not a metropolitan center of activity, but a backwater part of the Empire.  And while Mary and Joseph were both of the house of David, their kingly family had long since lost any political power or prestige.  But from these small, unnoticed, unspectacular circumstances, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah would be born and would begin to do what no one else could do: save the human race. 
    And so God will do with us, if we cooperate with His will.  He will raise up the humble, strengthen the weak, and continue His salvation through those who continue to cooperate with Jesus.  He doesn’t need prosperity or clout; all He needs is our willingness to follow His plan. 
    I will end tonight with the words that Pope St. Leo the Great.  Pope St. Leo the Great was supreme pontiff from 440 until 461, a time of great decline in the Roman Empire.  Barbarians were sacking and taking control of lands that had one been ruled by Rome.  False teachings persisted.  Disease and death were everywhere.  His time, like our own, was not easy.  And yet, for the celebration of Christmas, he writes:
 

Dearly beloved, today our Savior is born; let us rejoice.  Sadness should have no place on the birthday of life.  The fear of death has been swallowed up; life brings us joy with the promise of eternal happiness.  No one is shut out from this joy; all share the same reason for rejoicing.  Our Lord, victor over sin and death, finding no man free from sin, came to free us all.  […] When the angels on high are so exultant at this marvelous work of God’s goodness, what joy should it not bring to the lowly hearts of men?

Despite any darkness that comes our way, Jesus, the Light of the World, dispels it all and enlightens us so that we can live in the joy of His radiance.  We are the delight of the Lord, and His spouse.  As long as we stay with Him, no sadness can ruin the joy that belongs to us as sons and daughters in the Son of God, who tomorrow was born for us, Christ the Lord.

The Virtuous Life and the Fruits of the Spirit

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I am a rule follower.  It’s part of my personality.  Yes, I may bend a few rules here and there, but generally, if there’s a rule, I follow it.  It’s like one of my favorite Dwight Schrute quotes from the TV show “The Office”: “Whenever I’m about to do something, I think, ‘Would an idiot do that?’  And if they would, I do not do that thing.”  So when St. Paul tells us not to be immoral, impure, licentious, idolatrous, get involved in sorcery, hatred, rivalry, jealousy, fury, selfishness, envy, drunkenness, and orgies, I just say, “Ok, don’t do those things.  There must be some good reason why St. Paul would say not to get involved in those things.” 
    But others need more explanation than I usually require from a Church authority.  Others might ask why not do those things?  They sound fun and pleasurable.  Why shouldn’t I do what feels good?  And the question itself is not bad.  God doesn’t just tell us to do or not do something like a despot.  If He warns against an action, there’s a good reason.  And if He asks us to do something, it’s for our growth in holiness.
    St. Paul alludes to some of those reasons toward the end of the epistle.  He describes the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Those attributes are proper to God, and are outgrowths of being like God in our human nature.  When we practice those fruits, we show forth how God is working in our life.
    But there’s also a kind of perfection of the human person that is taking place when we practice those fruits of the spirit.  At least for our better self, we would rather be around loving people, joyful people, peaceful people, kind people, etc.  Being around a person who has no self-control is tiring and confusing.  You never know what he is going to do or she is going to say.  The conversation can change from one point to another on the turn of a dime.  There is no consistency or follow-through with a person who simply follows his or her passions whenever they arise. 
    Aristotle, even unaided by the light of grace, wrote in his Nichomachean Ethics that true happiness comes from being who we are.  As a pagan, he saw humans merely as a rational animal.  But even as a pagan, he knew that our happiness relied on us living in a rational way, not living according to our passions.  And so he set out virtues, excellences of choosing to do what was most reasonable, rather than being deficient in a proper passion, or an excess of that passion that went beyond reason.  For example, Aristotle talks about how the virtue of courage helps us to face what is difficult or what brings us the passion of fear, like a soldier fighting to protect his country.  Yes, there is fear of injury or death, but the virtuous soldier does not give in to that passion, but fights in the face of the prospect of getting wounded or dying in battle.  The deficiency of courage is cowardice, where one does not stand and fight when one should.  The excess of courage is rashness, where one does not appreciate appropriate danger that one has no possibility of vanquishing, and foolishly fights when a tactical retreat is more appropriate. 
    The list of the fruits of the spirit is really a list of virtues which are aided by grace.  Take, for example, joy.  Joy helps us to find happiness in celebratory moments or moments that draw us closer to heaven.  This fruit of the spirit takes practice, to train us not to be sad any time something difficult comes our way that we do not enjoy.  It takes asking the Holy Spirit to help us to be happy and to realize that we belong to Christ, and so nothing can shake us from His loving embrace.  It does not mean that we cannot be sad, like at a funeral, but it allows us to know that Christ died for our salvation, and the deceased person’s earthly trials are done, and hopefully they are at least in Purgatory or even in heaven, and will be united with God for ever. 
    But we cannot have those fruits of the spirit if we follow our passions.  As our Lord said in the Gospel, we cannot serve two masters.  If we make our passions our master, they will enslave us.  There are so many people enslaved to lustful passions, and those people tend not to be as loving as they could be, as joyful as they could be, etc.  But, when we make Christ our Master, He shows us how to choose the good, which frees us to be the most human we can be, as He created us to be. 
    Even on earth, people who always give in to their passions tend to be the most miserable.  If you always take what you want, regardless of whether or not it belongs to you, you can easily wind up in jail for stealing.  If you always give in to your anger, it usually comes out physically and you can get in trouble with the law for assault or violent crimes, and end up in jail.  While jail is not as tough as it used to be, it’s not a fun place.  It is the opposite of the freedom which every human desires.
    And beyond earth, to the life that comes after death, if we always give in to our passions, if we willingly put ourselves into the shackles of sin, then our eternal destiny will not be a surprise, but neither will it be pleasant.  On the other hand, if we live according to grace and virtue, becoming more and more friends of God by what we do and what we say, then our eternal destiny will not be a surprise, but it will be eternal bliss in the fullness of the friendship with God that we sought on earth. 
    God gives us commands and He reveals perfections, not simply as a fiat, but according to our perfection as human beings.  Whether we more easily just follow what God says because He says it, or if we seek to understand why God says and the reasons behind it, God calls us to true freedom in Him, to be examples of the fruits of the spirit to those we meet, and draw them into friendship with our Triune God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Joy to the World–Even in 2020

Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord–Mass at Night and During the Day

    Our Savior, dearly Beloved, was born this day.  Let us rejoice.  Sadness is not becoming on the Birth Day of Life Itself, which, now that the fear of death is ended, fills us with gladness, because of our own promised immortality.  No one is excluded from sharing in this cheerfulness, for the reason of our joy is common to all men.  Our Lord, the Conqueror of sin and death, since there was no one free from servitude, came that He might bring deliverance to all.
    …Let the sinner rejoice, since he is invited to grace.  Let the Gentile exult, for they are called to life.  For the Son of God, in the fulness of time, has taken upon Himself the nature of our humanity, as the unsearchable depths of the divine counsel hath decreed, in order that the inventor of death, the devil, by that very nature which he defeated, would be himself overcome.

These words are not mine, but those of Pope St. Leo the Great.  He invites us to rejoice at Christmas.  But, you may say, Pope Leo the Great didn’t have to deal with COVID-19.  He didn’t have to cancel family celebrations.  He didn’t have to miss seeing children and grandchildren whom he hadn’t seen in the better part of a year, if not a year or more (though, as a pope, it’s good that he didn’t have children or grandchildren).  He wasn’t a waitress who had her job taken away, given back, and then taken away again, just in time for the holidays.  He didn’t have to quarantine because a student in his child’s class was diagnosed with the virus.  
    And that’s all true.  Pope St. Leo the Great had his own difficulties–Attila the Hun sacking most of central Europe, into Italy; barbarians sacking Rome; heretics seeking to divide the Church with their errors; emperors being murdered; the beginning of the end of the Roman Empire in the west.  But Leo’s happiness wasn’t based upon something transitory or temporary, and certainly not simply on the twenty-fifth day of December.  Leo could encourage the people of Rome, to whom he preached this homily, to rejoice because of what we celebrate on the twenty-fifth day of December: the birth in the flesh of our Incarnate Lord. 
    What we celebrate on Christmas is that God loved us so much that His Eternal Word, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, was born for us in Bethlehem.  And that birth is, in itself, great enough news that there is no room for sorrow, because God has become like us so that we can become like Him.  How much love does it take for someone in a distant land, not needing anything, perfect in himself, to travel to a far away land in enemy territory, subject himself to all kinds of humiliations, just to be close to us?  And yet, that is what God did for us! 
    And if that wasn’t enough, that little baby, whose birth we celebrate today, would grow and would show even greater love, as He chose not only to become like us in all things but sin, but to die for us, so that we could live forever.  Matthew Kelly describes it this way in his Sacrament of Confirmation program called “Decision Point”: there is a virus that is infecting and killing everyone, and try as they might, scientists cannot find a cure.  As they try to work out how the virus works, more and more people keep dying.  And then, one day, they discover this one person, whose blood contains the antidote to the virus.  From his blood, a vaccine can be made that will eventually save everyone on earth from this virus.  The only problem is that, in order to make the vaccine, every drop of blood is needed; the person will have to give up his life.  That person, not thinking only of himself and how he will be fine, but all the people he can save, agrees to die so that others could live.  That Confirmation program was developed years ago, but it hits home even more so now, in the midst of this pandemic.
    Jesus’ Nativity is a reason to rejoice, no matter what is happening in our lives and in the world.  Jesus’ Nativity is the hope that gives us the strength to keep going, these 9 months after “14 Days to Flatten the Curve.”  As Catholics, we don’t live for this world.  While we treasure and care for the creation that God has entrusted to us, we have our minds on the world to come.  And this “momentary, light affliction,” as St. Paul says, is as nothing compared to the glory to be revealed in heaven.  We care for ourselves, and make prudent choices about our health, but we don’t obsess and fret about death because Jesus has freed us from the fear of death.  Death is not the end, but for those who follow Jesus, a transition to new life, glorified life, joy-filled life. 
    This is not to make light of the many sacrifices that have been made and are being made by people each day.  This is not to brush off the real hardships that many find themselves in during the pandemic.  But Jesus’ Nativity is a great reminder that these experiences are not all there is to life.  If anything, this pandemic has revealed to us how much we have lived like this life is all there is, and have not focused on heaven enough. 
    No government official nor any created thing can stop our joy that comes from this day and the hope the newborn Jesus brings to us.  Though our celebrations may be smaller, and maybe not happen with family and friends at all, and though we rightly find some level of happiness from our time spent with loved ones, the true joy of today comes the fact that God’s love for us has been revealed in Jesus being born for us to save us from sin and death, and open for us the way to eternal salvation.  So “let us rejoice.  Sadness is not becoming on the Birth Day of Life Itself.”  “Joy to the world!  The Lord is come!”

If You're Happy and you Know It, Tell Your Face

Third Sunday of Easter

About two months ago, the priests of the Diocese of Lansing met to, among other things, talk about how to increase vocation to the priesthood.  There were lots of ideas shared, some big, some small, some more helpful, some less helpful.  But the advice of one of our senior priests really stood out: if you’re happy and you know it, tell your face.  That was his pithy way of saying that happy priests lead others to consider the priesthood.

But besides being good advice for priests trying to encourage vocations to the priesthood, it’s good advice for all Christians, especially during this Easter season.  If you’re happy and you know it, tell your face!  We have been given the gift of new life in Christ, the opportunity to live for ever in heaven with God, the Blessed Mother, and the angels and saints.  That’s good news!  Sin has been defeated, and Christ has given His Church a way to forgive sins in His name and with His authority (remember that Jesus gave the apostles that authority in last week’s Gospel account).  That should lead us to be joyful.  

Joy doesn’t mean that everything is going to go right in our lives.  St. Thomas Aquinas describes joy as a passion which is caused by love of being in the presence of that which is loved, or by the goodness of the thing loved that lasts.  And, of course, spiritual joy, the fruit of the Holy Spirit, is caused by being in the presence of God and by the goodness of God that endures forever.  Therefore, especially when dealing with the goodness of God itself and how much he loves us, joy and sorrow cannot be mixed up.  We should, as St. Paul writes in his letter to the Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lord always.”

But, St. Thomas also admits that we do not always participate in the goodness of God, or recognize God’s presence, and that can cause us sorrow, because we don’t see the love of God active in our neighbor, or even active in ourselves.  And we see that sadness in our Gospel today.  St. Peter forgets that Jesus has risen.  He has seen Jesus, but Jesus has gone elsewhere.  And because St. Peter forgets about the abiding presence of the risen Jesus, St. Peter abandons his responsibility of sustaining the disciples in the faith, and decides to go back to his old life of fishing.  

Now, when St. Peter recognizes Jesus on the shore, that joy returns, and so much so that he jumps out of the boat to swim to shore to see Jesus, rather than waiting for the boat to go ashore.  It is then that Jesus asks St. Peter about his love, the threefold profession of love making up for St. Peter’s threefold denial that he even knew Jesus.  And Jesus entrusts to St. Peter the role of feeding the lambs, tending the sheep, and feeding then sheep.  St. Peter is entrusted with taking care of the flock that belongs to the Good Shepherd.  And the joy of loving Christ is meant to keep St. Peter going.

A statue of Jesus at Peter at the
Sea of Galilee

St. Peter had that joy, maybe not always and not exactly as God wanted St. Peter to, but still, St. Peter had the joy of the Resurrection, and we heard about that in the first reading when St. Peter rejoiced “that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name” of Jesus.  Even though they were being persecuted, St. Peter (and the other apostles) had joy because they knew they were in the presence of God and that they were able to suffering for God in imitation of Jesus.

So how about us?  Do our faces show that we have the joy of the Resurrection?  As a priest in seminary once told us, this isn’t the smile of someone who just passed gas and then walked away.  This is the joy that gives us peace through all of life’s circumstances, good and bad.  If we recognize the presence of God in our life, then nothing can take that joy from us.  God’s love is always active in our life and sustains us every day.  Even when there is something sad or even horrendous going on in our life, if we know the love of God, then we can still have the joy that is the fruit of the Holy Spirit.  

The martyrs are the best example of this.  Throughout the centuries there are stories of martyrs who died very painful deaths, but had joy that they were laying down their life in imitation of Jesus.  From the Apostles, to the early Roman martyrs, to the Japanese martyrs in the sixteenth century, to the North American martyrs in the seventeenth century, to saints like Maximilian Kolbe in the twentieth century, they didn’t enjoy being put to death, but they did have joy to suffer for Christ.  And many of their writings testify to that.  So for us, who probably aren’t being covered with tar and lit on fire, having boiling water poured over us to mock baptism, having our fingernails pulled out and our fingers chopped off, being crucified, or being given poison, then hopefully we can recognize the abiding presence of God and live in that joy of Easter.  If you’re happy and you know it, tell your face!

Go and Announce the Joy of the Lord!

The Resurrection of the Lord--Easter Sunday

            “Unless you become like little children, you cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”  If you’re wondering if you fell asleep during part of the Gospel and missed that part, don’t worry.  Those words of Jesus weren’t in today’s Gospel passage.  But, these words are Easter words which we need to hear today.

            Have you ever noticed that a child, when there’s really good news, can’t help but tell someone?  The child acts as if keeping that good news would cause that child to explode!  Maybe the child got a new puppy.  Maybe the child just received tons of chocolate for Easter, or the much-desired present for Christmas.  But that child has to tell someone!  We adults have learned more how to control our emotions, and so it doesn’t effect us as much, but if something great happens, even adults have a hard time holding it in.  Imagine if you would have won that half a billion lottery.  I’m sure you would have told someone.  I sure would!  Or maybe you got a promotion, or won a raffle, or got a new car.  We want to share.  It’s as if that joy inside of us would cause us to explode.  We just have to tell someone!

            Today we celebrate the greatest news ever: the tomb is empty!  Christ has risen!  Death has died!  Sin is vanquished!  Hallelujah!!  Fast forward 50 days from that first Easter to Pentecost, when the apostles received the fullness of the Spirit, and St. Peter cannot hold it in: “‘This man God raised on the third day and granted that he be visible...[and] everyone who believes in him will receive forgiveness of sins through his name.’”  The apostles and disciples are so excited on that day, that everyone assumes they’re drunk!  But the only wine which inebriated them that day was God’s Word and the fulfillment of His promises, what St. Thomas Aquinas calls the new wine of the spirit.

            And so today, faced with this great joy, we should be bursting at the seams!  The joy of knowing that Christ has won and death is no more should be inside us, ready to explode out of us.  Christ’s resurrection means that for those who pass through the cross and remain faithful and obedient to God, as was Jesus, there is a new life awaiting them with no sorrow, no tears, no pain, and a glorified body which is no longer bound by the limits of this earthly domain.  Disease has lost.  Hatred has lost.  Darkness has lost.  Jesus Christ, the way, the truth, and the life, the light of the world, the embodiment of love, has won.  This is a greater joy than winning the lottery, or a new car, or a promotion.  But are we childlike enough to not hold this joy in? 

            Now, I’m a pretty stoic guy.  I’m not one to show a lot of emotion.  But sharing our joy in Christ does not only mean that we are always smiling.  There’s a lot on earth at this time that, if we think about it enough, would probably make us want to cry.  But there’s a confidence that we should have in knowing that anything which is not in Christ will pass away, and will receive it’s final destruction when Christ comes again to establish, once and for all, his total dominion.  This joy that we have means that when we see sorrow and suffering, we want to bring Christ; when we see another walking in darkness, we want to bring light; when we see another oppressed by the chains of hatred, we want to share with them the freedom of God who is Love. 

            I saw that joy on senior day for the MSU Men’s Basketball team.  Now, remember, we lost to Ohio State.  We didn’t play our best.  There was a lot to mourn.  But Austin Thorton let that joy explode out of him when, after being asked to share a few words, began with, “I’d first like to thank my personal Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”  That’s a man who knows the joy of the resurrection, a joy he wants everyone to experience, a joy which he could not keep to himself.  That’s the leaven that St. Paul calls us to be in society, a leaven of sincerity and truth which makes the whole lump of dough rise to Christ. 

            Of course, to share that joy, we have to have it ourselves.  And the only way we get that joy is by knowing Jesus personally.  Evangelicals often ask this question, but really it belongs to us Catholics: Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?  Do you know Him?  Do you love Him?  If not, what are you doing to change that?  By joining a Bible study, a faith sharing group, reading Matthew Kelly’s Rediscovering Catholicism, or watching the “Catholicism” DVD series, we can grow leaps and bounds in that joy that the apostles had.

            In first century Rome, Nero blamed the Christians for the fire of Rome which he started, and the mob went along with it.  St. Paul was beheaded with a sword.  St. Peter was crucified upside down.  Other Christians were doused in tar, attached to large poles, and set ablaze to light the evening streets.  Fast forward 1500 years, and some of the first Christians on our continent, the Jesuit missionaries, endured their fingernails being pulled out, their right hand being chopped off, having boiling water poured over them, and being scalped.  They didn’t endure this because they had some inner strength that we don’t have.  They endured it because of the joy of the resurrection, the joy of knowing Christ, and realizing that nothing was more important than fidelity to God and sharing that joy with others.

            As Deacon Mike mentioned here on Good Friday, Bishop Boyea recently released his first pastoral letter to our diocese, calling for all of us to share the Good News, the joy of Jesus by what we do, by what we say, by how we live our lives, by what we make important.  We come to Mass each week, not to get our Catholic calisthenics of standing, sitting, standing, and kneeling, but to return to Church to celebrate each Sunday as a little Easter; to remind ourselves in what we should have our joy; and to be strengthened by each other, by the Word of God, and especially by the Eucharist: the Body and Blood of the same Jesus who died to save us from sin and rose from the dead. 

            “Unless you become like little children, you cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”  Do we have the heart of a child so that we cannot wait to tell someone who doesn’t know the joy of the resurrection?  Because the tomb is empty!  Hallelujah!  Christ has risen!  Hallelujah!  Death has died!  Hallelujah!  Sin is vanquished!  Hallelujah!  Go and announce the Gospel, the joy of the Lord.  Hallelujah!!

We Have (the Holy) Spirit, Yes We Do!!

Sixth Sunday of Easter

            “Be sealed with the Gift of the Holy Spirit.”  These are the words that Fr. Mark said to the 28 people who were confirmed at the Easter Vigil just a few weeks ago.  They are the words that our 8^th and 9^th grade students will hear next school year when Bishop Boyea confirms them.  These are the words that call down the Holy Spirit upon the baptized, just as Sts. Peter and John gave the Holy Spirit to those who had accepted the Word of God in Samaria, after they had been baptized.

            Does this gift of the Holy Spirit change those who receive it?  Does the Holy Spirit matter?  Of course!  By the anointing with the Sacred Chrism and the laying on of hands, those who have been confirmed are united to the Blessed Trinity in a new way!  They are little christs, little anointed ones, just as Christ, the anointed one, was filled with the Spirit.

            Sadly, we can block the many graces that the Spirit wants to give to us, the seven-fold gift of: wisdom, understanding, reverence, knowledge, counsel, right judgment, and wonder and awe in the presence of God.  We can say no to these gifts.  We can say no to the courage, the excitement, the joy that are the gifts that should be poured upon us when we are baptized and confirmed. 

            How often do I see those gifts going unused, like birds that long to fly but are locked in a cage that gives them no room.  How often do I see people come to Sunday Mass as if they are going to a funeral!  How often do I see people coming forward to receive the Eucharist, the Body and Blood of our Lord, Jesus the Christ, the Anointed One, without joy on their faces!  It’s not that we always have to feel happy or have a smile on our face.  That will only happen if we are welcomed into heaven.  But, we can always be joyful that we are able to participate in the anticipation of the Wedding Feast of the Lamb of God, the Antechamber of Heaven.  That’s what we get the opportunity to celebrate each week.  And if we are truly celebrating, then we are not dour, but delighted.  Imagine how much fun the Open Houses that we attend would be if everyone acted their like they do at Mass!  Not much at all! 

            The Holy Spirit gives us life, gives us breath.  It is like the vision of the dry bones from the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel.  Even though the bones are put back together, and the sinews and muscles are all on the bones, they bodies need the Spirit of God breathed into them in order to live.  We need that same Spirit or else we are nothing but a collection of bones, muscle, and organs walking around like zombies.  We need that Spirit!

            We need the Spirit to be able to give an explanation “to anyone who asks…for a reason for [our] hope,” as St. Peter says in our second reading.  The same Spirit that allowed the Apostles, Blessed Mother, and disciples gathered in the upper room at the first Pentecost, to proclaim the Gospel, the Good News, to the Jews gathered in Jerusalem; the same Spirit that sent Philip down to Samaria to preach and baptize those who were willing to accept the Word of God; that same Spirit dwells within us and wants to renew the face of the earth by our testimony and witness to the Gospel of Christ.  It is like the fizz in a shaken pop bottle that is just waiting for the tiniest opening to explode out of us. 

But we have become good at keeping the lid on.  We have become good at quelling the Spirit so that we don’t have to give an explanation for our faith.  We can be like adolescents in the faith.  We don’t know much and we’re afraid of sharing what we have for fear that we are different, that we upset the apple cart.  We may not have joy, but at least we’re comfortable where we’re at, and we don’t want to challenge anyone else, let alone ourselves.  Just like adolescents we don’t want to be different.  We want to the same as everyone else.  But that’s not what the Spirit calls us to.  As St. Paul says in his letter to the Romans, “Do not conform yourselves to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.”  Do not be the same as the world, because if we are, then we do not have the Spirit of God, since, as Jesus says in today’s Gospel, the Advocate, the one who stands up to defend us and gives us words to speak as we proclaim the Good News, that Spirit the world cannot accept, “because it neither sees or knows him.” 

“For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love.”  If we have the Spirit, we have power.  Not power which dominates, but power that serves by proclaiming the freeing love and redemption that is ours in Christ Jesus.  To show that we have the Holy Spirit do we all have to quit our jobs and go off to Pacific Islands, Saudi Arabia, or unknown jungles in South America to preach conversion?  No, we have plenty of opportunities right here in East Lansing, Okemos, and the entire greater-Lansing area.  There are people who do not know Jesus and who need to.  There are people who know Jesus and have been baptized, but who have not yet received the full inheritance of the Spirit that is their right as children of God in confirmation.  The more we are willing to bring Christ to our work place and even in our own homes (where, sadly, I fear He is sometimes absent!!), the more will we transform this world to be more like the Kingdom of God that Christ instituted by His own presence here on earth. 

The more we pray on a daily basis for the gift to recognize the times when the Spirit is calling us to bring Jesus into a particular conversation or situation; the more we are proud to be Catholics and bring that into the public sector, rather than being ashamed of having different rules and different views that so many others; the more we open ourselves up to the Spirit rather than blocking Him by our fear and our sins, the more we will have that enduring joy and peace that Christ promises to us. 

And so, as we prepare for Pentecost over the next two weeks, may our prayer be an invitation to the Holy Spirit to make His dwelling in us, fill us with His power, and help us to be alive with Him rather than just dry bones rattling along in life. 

Come, Holy Spirit,

Fill the hearts of your faithful

and enkindle in them the fire of your love.

Send forth your Spirit

and they shall be created

and you shall renew the face of the earth.  

Amen.

"VENI SANCTE SPIRITUS REPLE TUORUM CORDA FIDELIUM
COME HOLY SPIRIT FILL THE HEARTS OF YOUR FAITHFUL"
From Monte Cassino Benedictine Abbey, Italy