Getting the Right Message

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Perchik from "Fiddler on the Roof"

    Sometimes you can get the wrong message from a story.  In the musical “Fiddler on the Roof,” which I just mentioned two weeks ago, there is a scene where a student, Perchik, from the university in Kyiv, is teaching Tevye’s daughters how to read from Biblical stories.  One day he says, “Now after Jacob had worked for Laban for seven years, do you know what happened?  Laban fooled him and gave him his ugly daughter, Leah.  So to marry Rachel, Jacob was forced to work another seven years.  So you see, children, the Bible clearly teaches us you can never trust an employer.”  Not perhaps the message God tries to convey through the account of the patriarch Jacob in the Book of Genesis.
    I feel like the first reading and Gospel passage that we heard today can also be misinterpreted if we don’t approach it well.  From the first reading we might think that we just have to do the right thing and keep the right action up in order to win, as the Israelites win whenever Moses’ hands are raised.  From the Gospel we might think that if we pester God enough by asking him again and again, like the widow from the parable, then God will give us whatever we want.  But I don’t think either of those are what God wants to communicate to us.
    Because the first approach is basically magic.  Magic seeks to control the physical and/or spiritual world by our own efforts.  If I say the right words or do the right things, certain actions have to follow, as if they’re in causal relationship like adding baking soda to vinegar.  I can manipulate the results if I do the prescribed actions.  Magic is an offense against the first commandment, because we seek to take control rather than let God be in control.  
    The second approach is arrogance and pride.  If we ask God for something and we don’t get it, clearly God must have a different plan.  To presume that we know better than God is the ancient vice of price, seeking to elevate us over and against God, rather than submitting to His will and Divine Providence.  God is not a parent that we, like a toddler, can wear down if we just keep pestering Him, so that we eventually get what we want.

    Instead, the message, or at least a message, that God wants to communicate is a phrase my spiritual director says to me almost every time we meet: patient perseverance.  In our relationship with God, we need to approach God with confidence that He hears our prayers, even if they’re not answered immediately, and as long as they are truly what God wants.  St. Monica had to pray around 30 years before her son, Augustine, received the Sacrament of Holy Baptism from St. Ambrose.  God certainly wanted St. Augustine to become an adopted son of God in Jesus Christ and a member of the Church and have original sin washed away, but Monica had to persevere in asking God for that gift.  St. Augustine also had to be open to that gift, as conversion requires the free response to God’s grace that is given for conversion.
    We put forward our best work according to what we believe is God’s will.  We ask God to bless our work, whether it be an earthly or a spiritual endeavor.  But then we have to wait for God to grant it, all the while asking for it to happen, if it is God’s will.  It’s like the distiller who puts together what he thinks is a good mash bill, based upon what he thinks people want to drink.  He ferments the grains with the yeast, purifies the distillate to remove any harmful impurities, then puts it in a barrel to age in a good location in the rick house.  He waits for years, maybe four, eight, ten, twelve, or even twenty or twenty-three, praying that his hard work pays off and produces a tasty bourbon that people will enjoy.  But there is a certain freedom in patience, commending the endeavor to God’s providence.
    All too often, though we don’t begin by asking for God’s input as to whether we should even start something.  I know in my own life I can struggle because I have something I want to do, and I don’t ask God if it’s part of His plans, and then sometimes get frustrated when it turns out they’re not part of His plans, and I don’t find the success I wanted.  Before we begin any action, especially any new undertaking, we should ask God if this is part of His will.
    If we sense that God wants something to happen, that’s when we patiently persevere.  We continue to pray to God to give success to the work of our hands, to paraphrase Psalm 90.  And we wait until God answers that prayer in some way, shape, or form.  We don’t meddle, as if somehow our work can outdo the plan of God.  We don’t act like a toddler and keep asking, “Can I have it?  Please?  Please?  Please?  Please?”, hoping to wear God down.  We patiently, persistently bring our request before the throne of grace and lay it before the feet of God for Him to decide how and when to grant our prayers.  And we do it as a child who trusts his or her father.      Don’t misunderstand the readings we had today, as Perchik did with the story of Jacob, Leah, and Rachel.  Don’t pretend that we are in control and God has to do what we want if we just say the right words or do the right thing.  Let God be God, submit to His will and Divine Providence, and trust that what needs to happen will happen, according to the plan of our loving Father.  

Doctor Gratiae and Darth Vader

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  One of the things that can easily frustrate Catholics is when they are striving to live a holy life, but they aren’t quite getting there.  They go to Mass on Sundays; they go to confession on a regular basis; they pray the Rosary and/or the Divine Mercy chaplet; they have a crucifix and holy water in their home; etc.  And yet, they are still struggling with sin, be it venial or mortal.  They want to walk according to the spirit, but they all too often find themselves giving in to the flesh.  They desire the fruits of the Spirit, but they at least occasionally give in to the works of the flesh.
    This tug of war is because there are two still two masters in our hearts and souls, and we’re oscillating between the two.  We may be primarily for Christ, but we leave some part of ourselves, however small, open to the mastery of the evil one, and so he takes whatever opportunities he can to steal us away from our Lord.
    We know in our minds that we want to serve God and that our happiness lies in Him.  We know, as St. Paul teaches, that the wages of sin is death.  We know that sin distracts or even derails us from our final destination of heaven.  And yet, we choose to sin time and time again.

    St. Augustine of Hippo, the great Doctor of Grace, provides us with a stark example of this inner turmoil.  Though he became a catechumen at a young age, he writes in his Confessions that he did not live the faith as a young boy or young man.  He writes how, around the age of 16, he gave himself entirely over to lustful actions.  This terrorized his mother, but his father, also not yet a Catholic, seems to have figured it a normal part of life.  Things didn’t get better as 18-year-old Augustine moved to Carthage.  He writes, “desire had grown, and when desire is given satisfaction, habit is forged; and when habit passes unresisted, a compulsive urge sets in.  He took one mistress, with whom he had his son, Adeodatus (whose name means “gift given from God”), and then took a different mistress.  
    Through his studies, though, even while he meandered through various heresies, he began to see the truths of the faith as truth, and his mind grew convicted to join the Catholic Church through baptism.  Still, his will resisted what his mind longed to grasp, such that his prayer became, “Give me chastity…but not yet.”  
    This struggle between the two masters–Christ and his sin-driven will–frustrated him more and more each day.  It finally led to what appears to be a kind of mental breakdown, bringing him to tears over his dilemma.  But it was in that moment, in his utter brokenness, that he heard the voice of a small child say, “Tolle, lege,” “Take and read.”  He did what no good spiritual director would ever recommend: he played Biblical roulette, trying to turn to a random page to see what it would say, and read Romans 13:13-14.  The Apostle wrote, “let us conduct ourselves properly as in the day, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in promiscuity and licentiousness, not in rivalry and jealousy.  But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh.”  The grace that had been building in him in his search for the truth finally broke the dam of his will, and he found the freedom he desired, and the gentle yoke of Christ under which he was glad to bind himself.
    Perhaps our sins are not so grave.  Perhaps the conversion of our fallen wills will not be so dramatic.  But that same back and forth happens in so many Catholics, dealing with many types of sin, not just lust.  So many struggle with patience, or gossip, or judgement.  They want to do better, but they keep finding themselves in similar situations and confessing the same faults when they seek out the Sacrament of Penance.
    The example of St. Augustine reminds us that part of committing ourselves to the master we know we want to serve, Christ, is to persevere in fighting our temptations, no matter how strong, no matter how persistent.  The great bishop of North Africa, in his days before baptism, never fully acquiesced to the realities he knew to be false: that true freedom and happiness could be found in sin.  Sometimes all he had was his mind to tell him that sin did not lead to joy and hope, but he never abandoned that mind that guided him closer and closer to the truth.  

    In a very secular example, it’s like Darth Vader.  In the original three movies, especially episodes V and VI, George Lucas makes clear that there is good in Vader, and Luke Skywalker, his hidden son, senses it.  Even while Vader seems to resist that goodness; even while he attacks Luke, Luke knows that there is still a battle going on in Vader’s soul between light and darkness.  Even as Emperor Palpatine tortures Luke while Darth Vader looks on, the battle rages until (spoiler alert), Vader stops the torture and kills Emperor Palpatine (or at least, that’s what happened until they made the latest three movies, where being thrown down a shaft that explodes no longer kills a person).  Vader apologizes to Luke, and becomes, once again, the Jedi he should have been in his final breaths.
    Whether it’s a fourth and fifth century saint, or a fictional character that demonstrates the point to us better, our life is a choice between two masters.  Not just God and mammon, the pagan god of riches and greed, but between God and whatever sin we leave room for in our hearts.  May we persevere in continuing to fight for the mastery of Christ, the mastery that does not enslave us like sin does, but grants us the true freedom to choose the good and to live in the happiness that is desired for each of us by God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Thinking Smaller

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Perspective can change a lot.  There’s a comedic movie from 1989 called “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids,” where a scientist shrinks his kids (didn’t see that coming from the title, did you?) and two neighbor kids.  Small little crumbs of food become huge smorgasbords of sustenance.  Puny ants become both a large mode of transportation as well as elephant-like enemies.  Drops from the sprinkler go from small globs of refreshment to gigantic showers of death.  What once was small and insignificant, is now a matter of life and death.
    As we hear this parable about the weeds sown amongst the wheat, I know I often think of the big scale.  And, in fact, Jesus Himself uses this macro scale.  The sower “is the Son of Man, the field is the world, the good seed the children of the kingdom.  The weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sows them is the devil.  The harvest is the end of the age, and the harvesters are angels.”  And this reality is very present to us.  As we seek to live according to the Gospel, we also notice that others do not.  But God is patient, and allows even evil to exist, because the work of removing the “weeds” could destroy the good crops as well.
    But I would encourage us to shrink the parable a bit.  Don’t look at it so much from the macro scale as from the micro scale.  Because when we stay at the macro scale, it can be very easy to be self-righteous and to presume that we’re all the children of the kingdom simply by virtue of our baptism.  But, unless you’re very different than I, we do not always live as children of the kingdom.  Sometimes we live more like children of the evil one, choosing to sin when we know we should do good, and choosing to listen to the temptations rather than to our heavenly Father.
    I would hazard a guess that most of us are a mixed-bag.  We are not all good, but nor are we all bad.  Our souls have good seed sown, by virtue of our baptism and the sacraments we receive, but we also allow weeds to grow in our souls by virtue of the times when we give in to temptation and do not do the good we know we should do, but instead do the evil we know we should not do. 
    Because of this, God demonstrates His great mercy in giving us time to pull up the weeds that exist in our souls little by little, rather than destroying the entire crop by spraying Round-Up.    He sees the good that we desire, and suffers the evil that we do, hoping that, in time, He can harvest more fruit from good seed than weeds that will be thrown into the fire.  God doesn’t approve of the evil, and certainly less so desires that it grow.  But He also knows that the good that we do can sometimes be quite fragile, and if the weeds are withdrawn too aggressively, it may also take out what good we could accomplish.
    Does this mean that we should continue in our sinful choices and actions, because God may let it slide anyway?  Certainly not!  God shows His patience so that we can have more opportunity to do good, not so that we can have more opportunity to sin.  And, in fact, as any gardener will tell you, it is still good to try to make sure the weeds don’t overtake the good seed.  But it has to be done carefully, often with painstakingly small successes, and the we often have to pull weeds from the same spot over and over again, because we have not pulled out the roots, but have only gotten the part of the weed that made its way above the ground level.
    How do we pull weeds gently, to increase the room for the good seed to spread, without being so aggressive that we pull up the good and the bad?  Part of it means being patient with ourselves, as God is patient with us.  If we have a bad habit, whether it’s a major sin or a small sin, it will take time to uproot that habit.  If we expect to stop it immediately, we are more often than not fooling ourselves.  Do the little things each day to try to stop the habit.  If you do it each day, try to reduce it to every other day.  If you act on the bad habit each week, try to make it a week and a half, or two weeks. 
    Secondly, God’s grace is, for the weeds of our soul, better than Round-up.  By opening ourselves up to God’s grace by frequent confession, reception of Holy Communion in a state of grace, and daily prayer, we make start pulling up those weeds one by one, and loosening the soil with the water of the Holy Spirit to soften the ground and make it more likely to succeed in getting not just the symptom but also the disease.
    Thirdly, persevere.  When you’re weeding a large flower bed, and the weeds have been allowed to take over a section or even the whole bed, it takes a while.  Maybe start with the bigger weeds, the bigger sins, first, but then go back and start pulling up even the smaller weeds, because, if they are allowed to grow, they, too, will become big weeds.  You may only progress through a few square inches of that flower bed, but at least you know that’s ready for the good seed to grow, and you can move on to the next section.  Don’t be afraid that you’re not seeing great progress, as long as you are cooperating with God’s grace and making what progress you can.
    I am a firm believer that God desires our salvation.  He doesn’t want us to fail, and enjoys seeing us make what progress we can.  Any success is due to His grace, accompanied by our cooperation.  If we keep striving to do the will of God, God will bless that effort, and will help us find success.  Yes, the world is a mixture of weeds and wheat.  But so is our soul.  Before condemning the world, start weeding out the parts of your life that need conversion.  It may be slow work, but it will also help the wheat grow even more, as we witness to the power of God’s grace in our lives.  

Examining Our Year with the Fruits of the Spirit

 Last Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As we come to this last Sunday of the liturgical year, the last Sunday after Pentecost, it’s a great chance to take stock of the previous year.  Like many of us do daily examinations of conscience at the end of the day, this “evening” of the liturgical year affords us the opportunity to see how we grew in grace.
    We ask ourselves, did we allow ourselves to be filled with the knowledge of God’s will?  Did we please the Lord, and bear fruit in our spiritual lives?  Did we endure, were we patient?  Did we rejoice in the Lord and give thanks to the Father?  Was the trajectory of our lives showing more and more that Christ delivered us from the power of darkness and transferred us into His kingdom?  Did we forgive, as God had forgiven us?

    St. Paul mentions bearing fruit.  In another epistle, the Apostle lists the fruits of the Spirit that we should bear: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Those are great points of meditation for us as we examine the past year.  Am I more loving now than when I started Advent last year?  Do I show the joy of being a believer in the Lord?  Or, to use a phrase, if you’re happy and you know it, tell your face.  In my interactions with others, does my love manifest itself by waiting for others and putting up with their own shortcomings, just as God puts up with mine?  Do I seek Christ in others, and therefore treat others the same way I would treat Christ?  Do I seek the good, and not run to what is bad and troubling?  In my relationship with God and others, am I loyal, someone others can count on?  Or do I only turn to God when I need something, and not stay with Him when times are good?  When I correct others, do I act out of anger and vengeance, or do I see, the other’s conversion?  Do I give in to every passion that comes my way, or can I restrict the desires of my body and soul to make sure that they are in accord with God’s will.  This is what God asks of us as we, day by day, get closer to the end of time.
    We can spend a lot of time fretting about the end of the world.  Indeed, our Lord tells us that there will be many confusing reports, with false messiahs and false prophets arising.  But if we are persevering in following God, then the end is not scary, but rather the culmination of our response to God’s grace.  Notice, though, that I did not say, “if we are perfect in following God.”  I’m a perfectionist, and so I strive to do everything right.  But I don’t.  And I need to worry less when I mess-up, and just make sure that I learn from my bad choices, and seek to do better.  As long as I continue to strive to do God’s will, even when I miss the mark (which is what the Greek word 𝛼𝜇𝛼𝜌𝜏𝜄𝛼, which is the word for sin, literally means), as long as I keep striving to hit the bullseye, then God will have His victory.
    Another temptation, as we look back on this past year and examine how we responded to God’s grace, is to presume that, going forward, we simply need to try harder.  We certainly do always need to seek to be more open to God’s grace.  But the work is not, primarily, ours.  The work is primarily that of God.  Even in the epistle, St. Paul prays that we may “be filled.”  This is an example, in grammar, of what we called the Divine passive, which means that God is doing the act, even if not explicitly named.  Yes, we need to cooperate, but any good thing that we can do depends on God’s grace.  So it’s not simply that we do x or y, but that we, each day, open ourselves up to God’s grace more and more, and respond to that grace.  That’s how we make sure that we belong to Christ’s kingdom, through “whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins,” and who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.

Treasures and Grocery Stores

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    I saw something on the internet that read, “You can’t truly refer to yourself as an adult until you catch yourself getting really angry when the grocery store changes their layout.”  I chuckled when I read this, because, if true, it means I’m adult.  I can’t stand when the thing I went to buy at Meijer’s has changed aisles! 
    We treasure funny things, don’t we?  I think we’d all admit that grocery store layouts are not the highest on our list of things we value, but it’s certainly on the list.  We have other things we treasure, like family and friends, which have no monetary value.  And then we actually do treasure…treasure, something of value.  A man recently buried $1 million in treasure across the State of Michigan after his jewelry store went out of business due to COVID-19.  The treasure is buried from Detroit to the UP, and for $49, you get clues to help you find it. 
    To what extent do we treasure or value our faith?  Obviously, if you’re here, you do treasure it to a certain extent.  And I would echo that sentiment for those watching on Facebook live.  There are concerns, very valid concerns, being expressed that people won’t come back to Mass in the same numbers as before the pandemic.  Now, to be clear, many of our parishioners have very valid reasons for not attending Mass.  It’s probably not an exaggeration to say that a super-majority, around 66%, or our parishioners are in the very vulnerable age group where COVID-19 is more likely to be fatal.  And I would encourage those people to stay home.  But people with lowers risks are starting to go to restaurants, and beaches, in larger and larger numbers, and yet not going to church.  And that reveals precisely what they treasure more.
    When we started to open up to Mass, there were a few people who were even crying they were so happy to be back to Mass.  And even those who weren’t crying expressed their joy to be able to worship God in church, which is infinitely better than watching it stream online. 
    But not that long ago, we pared down our Mass schedule, due to a diminishing crowd, and I had parishioners, some very faithful, who left because I dropped their Christmas Mass, or because the weekend Masses that parishioners chose was not convenient for them (this doesn't include those who have commitments at the time of our new Mass schedule).  I know change is hard, and I can promise you that I have been required to make more changes here than I ever would have wanted to.  But, especially across the US, there is this growing phenomenon of Catholics treasuring their convenience more than their own parish, or even their faith.  People have used, are using, and will use, the excuse that their pastor isn’t doing what they want as the “reason” that they will no longer be Catholic.  And that concerns me, both as your pastor, and as a priest who preaches the Gospel.
    Because both our parish and our diocese are in for some changes over the next few years.  By June 2024, 4 years from this past June, we hope to ordain 10 seminarians as priests.  By that same time, we could have 24 priests currently working in the Diocese who could take senior priest status (“retire”) at or beyond the age of 65, with 4 of those coming from Genesee County. Three of those four in Genesee County are over the age of 65 right now.  We will not be able to have the current configuration of priests that we have now for much longer in the future.  Most priests in the near future will be serving at least 2 sites, and it’s not out of the realm of possibility that some churches will close.  Priests will still do all we can to provide the sacraments and pastoral care to the faithful, but it may not be at the time people prefer, or at a time that is as convenient as it has been in the past.  To be clear and transparent, I am not aware of any plans for any parish, including St. Pius X, across the Diocese of Lansing; so don’t go saying that we’re closing.  But even I can work out that the math of priests retiring versus priests being ordained is not going to allow the status quo to continue.
    I don’t say this to depress us, but to remind all of us that, as we go through these changes, we have to hold on to the treasure of our faith.  If our preferred Mass time is our great treasure, or our convenience is our great treasure, then we will fall away when difficult times come.  COVID-19 has made us re-evaluate what our great treasure is in our lives.  I saw this when I went to Woodhaven on 15 July, to see residents gather outside, socially distant, to receive the Eucharist for the first time since March.  It was beautiful to see the treasure that they had in the faith and the Eucharist, and how much it meant to them. 
    We are also looking at times across our country which remind me of what I learned about in school of the time of the French Revolution, where many faithful Catholic priests, consecrated men and women, and laity were executed at the guillotine because they would not swear allegiance to the new secular religion of France.  As our statues of saints are toppled, our churches are set ablaze, and our religion is mocked and ostracized, we will have to decide what we treasure more: our faith or our quiet life, or even simply our life period. 
    My hope is that we remain faithful, no matter what the cost, to the treasure that we found in Christ and in the one Church He founded.  We pray for the grace of perseverance not to abandon our parish or our faith because we have fewer Mass times, or they’re not when we want Mass to be.  There are many things we desire and want, like a grocery store that keeps the same layout.  But is Christ truly the one we treasure above all else?

No mo' FOMO

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

A little over a month ago, on one of the very few nice days that we had in May, I decided that I was out of shape (that reality had been true for some time), and I should do something to get in shape.  So I decided to do a 30-minute run around the exterior of the parking lot here at St. Pius X.  And then I decided to try to keep it up around every other day.  And then someone suggested that I run the CRIM, which I foolishly agreed to do.  So I’ve been running about every day or two, usually doing 5 miles, but once a week trying to get in a 7.5-mile run.

A few months ago, I would have told you that I would only run if I were being chased, or chasing after somebody.  And I can confirm that I never have a smile on my face while I run.  Yes, you do get the endorphins (the good feelings) after you’re done, but the fact that you get them after you’re done running should say something about running in general.  I can tell you that there have been no few amount of times where, during a run, I wonder what in the world I’m doing, and I just want to give up.  But I keep on pressing forward, at least until I attain my goal of running the CRIM.

Jesus in our Gospel tells us to keep going.  He tells us not to look back to what was before, but to continue following Him.  There will be all kinds of excuses about why we can’t follow Him, but He tells us to ignore those, and press on forward.

One of the plagues of today’s culture, especially among the youth, is FOMO–Fear Of Missing Out.  I can’t tell you the number of young adults that I have spoken with over my nine years as a priest who convey to me their fear about experiences that they really want to have, but which may pull them away from a current education, job, or even significant other.  There is a general lack of perseverance, of sticking with something for the long-haul, simply because it gets tough, or challenges appear.

Following Christ is not for sissies.  It gets tough, and there are many temptations to veer off course to something else, maybe not even something bad, that catches our eye.  As a priest, in my three parish assignments, there have been times–during my four years in East Lansing, during my two years in Adrian, and yes, even during my three years here–where I take my eye off Jesus ahead of me, and want to look back and wonder if I made the right decision.  At first, as I entered college seminary, I was more like Elisha, telling my mom and dad goodbye, and then just going for it.  But whenever a trial would present itself, and each parish has its own trials, there would be a little voice (like the one in cartoons that comes from a little red guy with horns, a tail, and a pitchfork) asking me to think about what life would have been like if I wouldn’t have  gone through the seminary and been ordained.  But the voice of the little angel on the shoulder with the halo and wings would respond with what Jesus said today: “‘No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God.’”  And, by the grace of God, I have persevered and been filled with such joy by remaining faithful to how God has called me to be a saint.

But it’s not just for priests.  For married couples, too, there’s the temptation to cut bait and run.  To be clear, I’m not talking about physically or verbally abusive situations, where a person needs to leave the marriage for his or her own physical or mental health.  Marriage is tough; it takes perseverance.  For me as a priest, I had eight years for the seminary staff to prepare me to be a priest.  For married couples, it’s usually around 8 months, and it’s not daily preparations; it’s a day here, a weekend there, etc.  And yet it is no less demanding of a vocation, and the temptations to look back also present themselves.  But that’s why it’s so important, when discerning marriage while dating, to make sure that it’s a person with whom you feel God is calling you to spend the rest of your life.  

There will be challenges that married couples will need to face together.  Many of you here can speak to that better than I can.  Many of you here have celebrated 25, or 30, or 40 or even 50 years together as a married couple, and some of you are even working towards 55 or 60 years of marriage.  What I notice about successful marriages is that they both work at following Christ, and, more often than not, they don’t give in to that temptation to look behind them at what could have been.  That’s true if you marry when you’re 19 or 22 or 30, whether you have 3 children or 5 or 8.  Don’t look back at what could have been; face forward toward Christ and where He is calling you to be as a couple.

And for those not married or not considering a vocation to the priesthood, Jesus’ words are still applicable.  It is not helpful in our relationship with Christ to look back and think what could have been.  It’s not helpful to give in to FOMO, to the fear of missing out, and never make that commitment towards doing something great, no matter how hard it is.  That goes for the simple act of making it to Mass every Sunday and Holyday; that goes for choosing to avoid places where you know you’ll be tempted to wander away from God; that goes for choosing to serve others rather than serve yourself.  

In the life of a disciple, there will always be moments where we wonder what life would have been like if we would have chosen B instead of A, gone left instead of right, given in to temptation rather than following Christ and His plan for our life.  Don’t look back; don’t second-guess yourself.  Keep your determination to follow Christ and you’ll find the joy that comes from persevering and finishing the race that God has set before you.

"If you're going through hell, keep on going"

Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

            “Is anybody there?”  This is the question the Prophet Habakkuk asks God in the first reading.  He is frustrated by the evil that is all around him, how violence and wickedness seem to be everywhere.  And yet God, who is supposed to be the source of justice, the one who punishes the wicked, seems absent from the situation.  The wrongs are not being righted.  The oppressed are not being liberated.  The wicked are not being punished.  Where is God in this situation?

            “Is anybody there?”  This is probably a question that we have asked God from time to time.  “Don’t you care what’s going on in my life?  Don’t you care how bad things are?”  Maybe it’s not violence like the Prophet Habakkuk is frustrated by.  Maybe you’re a senior citizen and no one comes to visit you and you feel alone.  Maybe you’re married, yet the spark of love seems to have died, and all you seem to do is fight with your spouse.  Maybe you’re divorced and feel alienated.  Maybe you’re a college student and the pressure of midterms is weighing heavily upon you and you feel like you’re drowning in your classes.  Maybe you’re a child and nothing seems to be going right with friends, family, or school.  Maybe someone you love has just died and you don’t know how to live without him or her.  No matter what the scenario, many people have dark times in their life.  And what makes it particularly dark is when God doesn’t seem to care, and when the answer to prayer that we want, the thing we are sure will fix the whole situation, doesn’t come. 

            But in our first reading, God responds.  He does not leave Habakkuk in silence.  He says, “Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets…For the vision still has its time…if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late.”  In essence, God tells the prophet, “Just wait.  I am going to work things out in my own time.”  That’s probably not the answer we want to hear when we feel like everything is going wrong.  But God doesn’t answer our prayers exactly the way we want.  He loves us too much to give us only what we want.  He loves us so much, that He knows how and when to give us what we need.  But to persevere through the tough times takes trust and faith in God.

            It’s easy to say with St. Paul, “All things work for the good of those who love God,” when we’ve just won the lottery, when we feel on top of the world, when everything seems to be going well.  It is much harder to say that same phrase when loss and darkness seem to be the norm.  But the gift of faith gives us the strength to trust that all things are working for our good if we love God, and to say with Job, “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord!”  With faith, great things are possible.

            Certainly this is the point of what Jesus said to the apostles in today’s Gospel.  Jesus wasn’t talking about landscaping when he said you could move mulberry trees if you have faith.  In some sense, that’s quite easy.  How much harder is it to trust in God when everything seems to be working against us!  And how much more impressive is it to continue to remain faithful to God and persevere than just to move a tree!  In one sense, moving a tree with faith is easy.  Remaining faithful to God and continuing to trust in Him when your heart and your will tell you just to give up is much more of a miracle.  And that is possible if we have faith the size of a mustard seed.  That’s not a lot of faith.  Mustard seeds are not big.  If I were to hold a mustard seed between my finger and thumb, no one could see it, unless you’re Clark Kent.

           

But we were all given the gift of faith in Baptism.  All of us received that precious gift when we became an adopted son or daughter of God.  Sometimes people will say to me, “Father, I don’t have any faith!”  Well, if you were baptized, then you do, even if you don’t feel it.  St. Paul, speaking to St. Timothy in the second reading, reminds St. Timothy to stir into flame the gift of God that he received through the imposition of hands.  St. Paul is talking here about the ordination of St. Timothy, and stirring into flame that gift of the Sacrament of Holy Order.  But the same could be said for the gift of baptism.  We have to stir into flame that gift of the Sacrament of Baptism, the gift of faith, so that we do not fall into the spirit of cowardice or apathy or despair.  We have to exercise that gift of faith, especially when it is tough. 

            Think of a few, small, burning embers in a fire that was burning the night before.  All it takes is some paper and small twigs, some gentle breaths of oxygen, and that fire can start burning once again the next morning and can return to the greatness of the night before.  The same is true with our faith: even when we feel our faith is nothing but a small ember, a small remnant of what it was before, with the proper fuel, our faith can once again be a roaring fire.  How does this happen?  Through reading the Word of God, either alone or in a Bible Study; by sharing with others the little bit of faith we have through Small Faith Sharing Groups; by taking time for prayer, especially before the Blessed Sacrament in Adoration; by removing any obstacles to faith through the Sacrament of Penance.  In that way we nurture the mustard seed of faith, until it grows into a large tree that provides home and comfort for others.

            In a country song, Rodney Atkins sings, “If you’re going through hell, keep on going.”  By the gift of faith we can persevere through all the trials of life, even when we feel like it’s going through hell, knowing that God never abandons us, but sometimes asks us to wait to receive the best things that He has in store for us in the way and the time that He wants to give it.  “If it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late.”