Five-Letter Word

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  One of my morning routines is to play Wordle, an online game in which you have 6 chances to guess a five-letter word, based upon being shown if the individual letters of words are in the correct space, or maybe belong in a different space.  For example, my starter word is always “crate,” which will tell me if there are any cs, rs, as, ts, or es in the word, and if those letters are in the right place for the mystery word of the day.  Recently, the word was “pshaw,” which is a real word (and which was very difficult to guess).  The word “pshaw” expresses contempt, impatience, or disgust, and has been used in English since the early 1600s, even if we don’t really use it much today.
    Another word we don’t use very much, except when it comes to the commandments, is another five-letter word St. Paul used today at the beginning of the epistle: covet.  The Apostle to the Gentiles encourages us not to covet evil things.  Probably the other major context of covet is the ninth and tenth commandments, forbidding us from coveting our neighbor’s wife (the ninth commandment) and our neighbor’s goods (the tenth commandment).  But what does it mean to covet?
    The Angelic Doctor, St. Thomas Aquinas, tells us that to covet is to immoderately love the possession of someone or something.  Our English word come from the Latin, cúpere, which means to desire.  Obviously we all desire things.  When I haven’t eaten in a while, I desire food.  When I am too hot I desire air conditioning.  So the key to distinguishing coveting from simple desiring is the immoderate desire or love of something, or a desire for something not in accord with reason.  I might want some food when I’m hungry, but I can covet food by wanting more food than I need, or a certain quality of food that goes beyond reason.  I might desire air conditioning when I’m not, but I can covet air conditioning by wanting it to be 60 degrees inside, or to spend money I don’t have on installing a new air conditioner.  
    The ninth and tenth commandments help us to govern the good things we want, because sometimes we want them when we don’t need them.  We’ve all had moments where we said we needed something that we truly only wanted.  Or we’ve said aloud or in our head, “Give me a break!” when a child claims to need something that is altogether unnecessary.  But we all have little children inside of us claiming to need things that we don’t truly need.  When it comes to the ninth commandment, it’s the desire for physical affection.  When it comes to the tenth commandment, it’s the desire for some material thing.  
    I would also say that coveting goes beyond the simple, “That would be nice to have.”  I might see a nice car and admire it, and say to myself, ‘Oh, that would be cool to own that car,’ without actually coveting it.  Or, especially while one vacation, you might notice an attractive person of the opposite sex and recognize objective beauty.  But coveting goes beyond the first glance and then turns to the desire to possess the person or object observed.  It really turns a person into an object, and the object into a god, so that we put other things in the first place that only God is supposed to occupy.  
    The prohibition against coveting does not mean that you can’t want better for yourself.  We should always strive to do better than our parents.  But what are the intentions of my heart?  Why do I want what I want?  A trooper can say, “I want overtime,” but might want it because he simply wants more money to buy more things (that would be coveting), or because he wants to provide for his family and maybe get them some special food for a birthday or other celebration.  
    Coveting is not restricted to those who don’t have much.  A rich person can covet things, even if she has a large house, the best car, the most expensive jewelry, etc.  On the other hand, a rich person might have a lot, but not covet her possessions, and instead exercise generosity and detachment from her material wealth.  A poor person might covet more goods, beyond what he needs for survival and basic thriving, or a poor person might be content even with the little he has.
    Likewise, when it comes to coveting people, it’s not just for single people.  A married person can covet a woman other than his wife, or might even covet his wife.  If the husband treats his wife simply as an outlet for his lust, he could even fall into the sin of coveting her.  On the other hand he might recognize her beauty, but not to possess, but to serve and lay down his life, and express that love in the marital act when she is open to expressing that love in a full gift of herself.  Or a single woman might covet a strong, handsome man and gawk at him and use him to feel some kind of way, or she might simply notice that he has well-defined muscles and good proportion of body, but not dwell on him and think lustful thoughts.  The issue is not what one has or does not have; or whether one is single or married.  The issue is whether we are the masters of our desires, or if they master us.  
    While we don’t use the word covet much anymore, it is no less prevalent and no less a temptation.  But God has given us the grace not to desire immoderately, but to govern our desires so that we only act on desires which are in accord with Divine Law or reason.  May we call upon God to cleanse the temples of our hearts of any inordinate desires that exist there, so that our souls may not be a den of thieves, but a house of prayer for the worship of God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Not the King We Expected

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
    A bishop I know once had a meeting when he was a priest with his diocesan bishop.  During that meeting, the diocesan bishop said to this priest, “You know, you’re not everything I would want in a priest.”  Talk about demoralizing!  But this priest who became a bishop then used this story to transition to talking with his priests, and admitted that he knows he’s not everything his priests would like to see in a bishop.  But he does his best to follow God’s will and be the best bishop he can be.

    As we celebrate the Solemnity of Christ the King of the Universe, the Gospel presents us with perhaps a different version of a king than we were expecting or want.  When we think of kings, we probably think of pomp and circumstance, fine robes, jeweled crowns, and amazing power.  Instead, our Gospel presents us what looks like utter failure as Christ hangs on the cross as a common criminal, and those around Him mock Him.  In place of pomp there is jeering.  In place of fine robes Christ had his cloak torn off His Sacred Body before they put the nails in His hands and feet.  In place of a jeweled crown He wears a crown of thorns.  And in place of amazing power Christ allows the powers of the world and Hell to rush upon Him, seemingly powerless to stop any of it.
    But the best king the world has ever or will ever have is Jesus.  And yet, His kingship is a tension of seeming paradoxes.  Christ is King on the cross, and Christ is King in heaven.  Christ is King naked in suffering, and Christ is King robed in majesty.  Christ is King in His agony, and Christ is King in His glorification.  But often times, if we’re honest, we prefer one over the other.  We might say, like that bishop said to his priest, “You’re not everything I would want in a king.”  
    We try to keep that tension as Christ’s faithful on earth.  We should both venerate Christ as King in glory and Christ as King in the earthly way He manifests Himself.  Both have value and importance.  Both help us to be faithful subjects of Christ our King.
    As far as glory, we do our best to demonstrate that in our Mass.  This temple uses precious materials like stained-glass, marble, beautiful paint, and precious metal vessels to show that we give our best to Christ our King.  Christ is worthy of all of our best materials, and we give that to him.  I wear special vestments which cost a fair amount of money.  We use special books to convey the Word of God, especially the Book of the Gospels.  We use a special instrument, the organ, which both mimics the human voice, but also brings with it the sound of trumpets and strings.  So much of what we do is wholly unnecessary and superfluous, but yet fitting for a king, just as DaVinci’s “Mona Lisa” or Michelangelo’s “David” is not, strictly speaking, a necessary part of the world, but adds wonder and awe and glory to the world.
    But our best is not just in reference to the sanctuary or the different ministers.  You should also bring your best to lay at the feet of the King.  Do we come as attentive as we can to Mass, not drowsy from the night before because we stayed up too late watching college football or drinking?  Do we take a look at the readings a few days before so that we can more deeply appreciate them as the reader proclaims them to us?  Do we do our best to dress better for the King than we do for our usual daily tasks?  Do we fast one hour before receiving our heavenly King, the Body and Blood of Christ, to prepare our bodies for so great a guest?  Do we exteriorly respond to the prayers and sing, to the best of our ability, the hymns and sung responses?  Do we unite all that has happened since the last time we came to Mass with the bread and wine offered on the altar so that we truly give ourselves to God, as He desires?  Certainly, some of these are tough, especially with young children, but can we say that we’re doing our best?
    On the other hand, Christ is King from the cross and in His suffering that continues in His members.  Do we allow the beautiful, glorified encounter with Christ the King to transform us so that we can meet Christ the King as we meet Him in our day-to-day lives?  There was a chart that I received when I studied liturgy in Chicago, and it broke up the Mass into three parts.  It was based on the pre-Conciliar Mass, but easily translated into the post-Conciliar Mass.  The first part of the Mass was what used to be called the Mass of the Catechumens, or the Liturgy of the Word.  The second part of the Mass was called the Mass of the Faithful, what we now call the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  But the third part of the Mass was called the Mass During the Day, not reflecting the time of Mass, but demonstrating that what happens at Mass is supposed to affect how we live our lives outside the church walls.  Another term for this was Catholic Action, or how we work, rest, eat, drink, play, and treat the poor as Catholics.  It is in our homes, in our jobs, on the roads, on our vacations, in our encounter with the poor that we also encounter Christ the King.  And how do we serve that manifestation of Christ in His Kingship?  Are we ready to serve Christ the King in the more mundane and messy parts of life?  
    Christ is King both in the aspect of glory here in this church as well as in the beggar, the co-worker, the family member, the immigrant, the police officer or firefighter, the politician, and any other person we encounter each day.  May we recognize Christ as King not only in His glory, but also in His suffering.  And I’ll end with a prayer that can help us serve Christ our King, not only as we want Him to be King, but as He truly is King:
 

Almighty and ever-living God,
Author of Light and Life,
enlighten our minds and strengthen our wills,
so that we may practice in our lives 
what we have celebrated at your holy altar 
and received into our hearts.
Through Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Sweet, Juicy Fruit

 Fifth Sunday of Easter
    When I was young I had a bad encounter with chocolate (I ate too much), and so I tend not to eat very much chocolate candy.  I’ll do the occasional Snickers bar, but when it comes to Hershey’s chocolate bars or kisses, or other types of pure chocolate candies, I tend not to eat them.  What I do love is fruit.  Especially berries, but also grapes, apples, oranges, pears, kiwi, pineapple, mangoes, etc., I tend to satisfy my sweet tooth with fruit.

    So when Jesus starts talk about grapes today, He has my attention!  We’ve heard this Gospel numerous times before, and Deacon Dave even mentioned it last weekend when he mentioned Jesus saying to us, “‘I am the vine, you are the branches.’”  Often times we focus on remaining connected to Jesus, and that is certainly important.  As Jesus reminds us, we cannot do anything good without Him.  
    How do we stay connected?  We read the Word of God, the Bible; we pray daily; we go to confession regularly and worship God at Mass at least each Sunday and Holyday; we serve Jesus in our service of the poor.  Think about how much time we devote to all sorts of other things, but how much time do we devote to Jesus?  
    But, rather than talking about remaining connected to Jesus, today I want to focus on the result of staying close to Jesus.  What happens when the branches stay connected to the vine?  You get grapes!  Sweet, delicious grapes!  The grapes are the fruit that are produced by staying connected.  So Jesus promises us that if we remain in him, then we will bear much fruit.  If we don’t bear fruit, then we will be thrown into the fire, like a brach that no longer produces grapes.  
    How do we bear fruit?  So the word “Catholic” is thrown around as is being baptized means that a person doesn’t need to do anything else  Sometimes in my mind I start wondering if I ever saw the person at Mass, if the person read the Bible regularly and prayed daily.  I wonder how much the person cared for the poor and the marginalized.  It is easy, as St. John reminded us in the second reading, to love “in word or speech,” but bearing fruit means loving “in deed and truth.”  
    It some ways it used to be easier to be Catholic.  We had external markers that at least gave an appearance of our faith.  When Betty Baptist invited Charlie Catholic over for dinner on Friday night, Charlie made sure to say that he couldn’t have meat.  Many families spent part of Saturday morning not on the soccer field, but in the confessional.  And, to the extent possible, many Catholics avoided any sort of menial work on Sundays.
    Those externals don’t necessarily mean that you’re bearing fruit.  You can abstain from meat and not love Jesus; you can go to confession but not be truly sorry; you can avoid work on Sundays but not do it to grow closer to God.  But bearing fruit does mean that our life is different.  
    I know we don’t like to be different.  But being Catholic means being different, just as Jesus was different.  It means being patient with the person who cut in right before the construction zone starts.  It means not participating in the office gossip about the employee who doesn’t seem to get along or get the job done.  It means treating all people, regardless of race, gender, religion, sexual-orientation with respect and dignity because all of us are created in the image and likeness of God.
    But being different also means that we avoid taking God’s Name in vain.  It means being here, at Mass, every Sunday, whether we feel like it or not, or whether we think we’re getting anything out of it or not, because our time during Mass is about worshipping God well more than it is about us “getting” something.  Being different means that we help women to choose life rather than abortion; that we conceive a child according to God’s plan rather than through artificial means like in vitro fertilization or surrogacy.  It means we give time, talent, and treasure to taking care of those who cannot care for themselves.  Those are all ways that we bear fruit, though there are, of course, more.
    Do we do it perfectly?  I know I don’t!  I try to be, but realize that I am not always a paragon of discipleship.  But when I fail, I turn back to the Lord, asking for His mercy in the Sacrament of Penance, and with true sorrow and a desire to sin no more with God’s help, I start again, to stay connected to Jesus and bear fruit.
    It’s easy to say, “I’m Catholic.”  You can say that without doing much of anything else.  But in order to bear fruit, as Jesus asks us to, we have to respond to the graces God gives us by remaining with Him on the vine.  And Catholics bearing fruit is exactly how this, and any parish, can grow, so that we, like the "church throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria” that we heard about in our first reading, can be “built up and [walk] in the fear of the Lord, and…[grow] in numbers.” 

Listening

 Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Fr. Jim Rolph

    Last Sunday I went to a family’s house for dinner, a family that I have visited before.  When I visit, the adult children in the family like to tease me and say how much more they like Fr. Jim Rolph, the chaplain at Powers Catholic.  So during dinner conversation last Sunday I was talking to someone else at the table, but one of the kids interjected and said something, but all I heard was “in Flint.”  At first I just let it pass and figured it wasn’t anything important, but then young man started laughing, and realizing it was connected to what I had missed, I said, “Wait; what did you say?”  He started laughing and said, “I wondered why you didn’t react.  I said, ‘After all, Fr. Jim is the best priest in the Flint area!’”  
    Sometimes our attention is divided, and we don’t hear what’s going on.  And because we don’t hear, we miss something that we would want to know.  It’s not such a big deal when a young man is poking fun and saying that a brother priest is better than you (for the record, Fr. Jim and I are good friends, and I respect him greatly!).  But if it’s not teasing, but the voice of God, it’s much more important to pay attention and listen.
    In our first reading, Moses prophesies that God will send another prophet, like Moses, to whom the people need to listen.  This prophet will have very important messages to communicate.  Of course, we know that Jesus was the fulfillment of all the prophets, and was a prophet Himself, since He spoke for God.  But He didn’t even speak like the other prophets, but spoke with authority, authority that came from Himself, since He is God.  The people listening to Jesus recognize this, and they recognize “a new teaching with authority.”  
    Part of this authority is that Jesus, unlike the other rabbis of His time, would not appeal to an earlier rabbi.  That was the way the interpretation of laws and teachings worked for the Jewish people.  If you were a rabbi, people wouldn’t necessarily believe what you were teaching or interpreting.  But if you could appeal to an earlier rabbi who was well-respected, then your teaching took on more authority.  And the closer you could get to Moses, the more authority you would have.  
    But Jesus did not appeal to any other rabbi.  He simply spoke as if it were true.  Think back to Matthew chapter 5.  Jesus keeps saying, “You have heard it said…but I say to you…”. He teaches as one who is authentically interpreting God’s will, authentically speaking for God, like Moses, but even more authoritative than even Moses.  And even unclean spirits respond to the words that Jesus speaks.  It’s not even a contest about who has authority; Jesus speaks and they have to obey, because He is the Creator, and they are mere creatures.
    It is with this same authority that the Church, when teaching on faith or morals, speaks.  Because the Church is the Mystical Body of Christ, and because Jesus has given His authority to the pope and bishops who lead His Church (remember that Jesus said to the apostles that whoever listens to them listens to Him), the Church can say that, to be in union with Jesus, you have to believe this, or you can’t believe that.  The Church can also say with the authority of Jesus that, in order to be living as a disciple, you should do this or you shouldn’t do that.  It’s not simply the opinion of some old men who wear pointy hats; it is Jesus Himself teaching.
    Our psalm today encourages us: “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”  How often do our hearts harden when someone tells us something that we have to do, especially in the area of faith (what to believe) or morals (how to live).  It’s almost like an instantaneous reaction that someone tells us what to do and we automatically want to do the opposite.  That’s our fallen human intellect and will.  When the Church says we cannot support abortion, or we need to assist the poor, we have a responsibility as followers of Jesus to obey.  When the Church says that the Eucharist is truly the Body and Blood of Jesus, or that marriage is only between one man and one woman, to be loyal to Jesus we conform our lives to that teaching.  Sometimes it’s hard.  Sometimes it’s very hard, and may even seem counterintuitive, but God asks us to listen to His Son, who will never lead us astray if we follow Him.
    But besides the struggles to listen to Jesus as He speaks through His Church, it can also simply be hard to listen to Jesus.  Our age is filled with cacophony, which comes from the Greek meaning “bad sounds.”  We often surround ourselves with noise, and in doing so, drown out the God who likes to speak to us like He spoke to the Prophet Elijah: in the whisper in the silence.  Hardening our hearts can include not making time for God in daily prayer.  Maybe the only time you have is five minutes; maybe it’s turning off the radio in your car; maybe it’s coming to a daily Mass, or spending time in adoration.  But in order to hear God, we have to carve out time for Him, especially in silence, not only speaking to God, but listening to how God responds.  Sometimes silence can be scary, but God will, in His way, in His time, speak to us.  All we have to do is pay attention and listen.
    Don’t miss the conversation God wants to have with you.  Don’t miss out on how God teaches us to follow Him and to find true happiness.  Listen to the Church when it comes to faith and morals.  Make time for silence with God each week.  You will find the happiness for which you long.

The Gospel according to "Saved by the Bell"?

Kelly Kapowski & Zack Morris

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    Last weekend, Deacon Dave gave a great homily on our call to take care of what God has given us, especially human life in all its stages.  A lot of times, when we think about caring for human life, we think of our opposition to abortion, or of caring for mothers who are carrying a child in their womb, or of making sure that the elderly are not euthanized.  But, Deacon Dave last week reminded us, and our readings today also remind us, of another aspect of caring for our fellow brothers and sisters: our care for the poor and marginalized.
    It’s ironic, because last Saturday morning I was watching “Saved by the Bell,” which was a favorite TV show of mine in middle and high school.  I am a little ashamed to admit that, when I was in middle school I hoped my high school experience at Lansing Catholic would be like that at Bayside High.  I am not as ashamed to admit that I also liked watching “Saved by the Bell” because I had a crush on Kelly Kapowski, one of the lead female characters.  In any case, last Saturday’s episodes that I saw were a two-part Christmas episode where Zack Morris, the leading male character, meets an attractive young woman working at the mall, and he wants to date her, and then meets a homeless man in the mall bathroom.  It turns out the man and the young woman are father and daughter.  Zack is alerted to some of his stereotypes regarding homeless people, and does his best to help this family and give them a merry Christmas.  It was a good lead-up to today’s Gospel and first reading.
    Jesus in the Gospel today reminds us that, not only are we to love God, but we are also to love our neighbor.  And the Lord tells the Chosen People through Moses that loving their neighbor means not mistreating aliens (a word that is not popular today but just means “a person from another place”); taking care of widows and orphans (who, in that day, did not have social security or welfare to sustain them; they were totally reliant on the community for their survival); and caring in general for the poor.  We, as followers of Jesus, are held to this same standard, and are called as part of our care for human life, to do our best to care for the poor and marginalized.
    In the “Saved by the Bell” episode, the producers did a great job of pointing out that the homeless are not homogenous in their circumstances.  The father in the episode had been a computer programmer, and had been laid off by his company.  He tried to find work, even traveling to a different State, but couldn’t get a job.  I think often times we say, “the poor,” and consider them all the same.  But there are different types of poverty, even within the category of financial poverty.
    Caring for the poor can be difficult, because I believe that all of us want to help the poor, but we may not know how, and we may wonder about the person’s particular circumstances.  Or maybe we feel that it’s the government’s place to care for the needs of all the poor, so that the poor will leave us alone.  But we need to encounter the poor so that we can recall that they are human, created in the image and likeness of God, just as we are.
    Still, there are different needs.  One person can be poor because he has a disability that does not allow him to work.  Another person can be poor because she lost her job and doesn’t have any savings to get her through unemployment.  Another person can be poor because medical bills for an unexpected illness or injury depleted almost all financial resources.  Or a person could be poor because they don’t want to work and would rather collect money from government programs.  There’s not a one-size-fits-all approach, which can seem frustrating or daunting.  And yet, we are still called to assist the poor.
    There are also structures that can sometimes encourage people to be poor, or rely on the government for their existence.  There are people who want to work, but if they work, they won’t qualify for welfare, and the money they would earn in a job is less than they would get from welfare.  Work is part of our responsibility as citizens, to use our gifts and talents for the building up of society, and contributes to assistance like social security and Medicare, but it also reminds the person of his or her dignity.  It’s surprising to me that people with better financial and economic minds than mine don’t come up with a system where, if a person earned less from working at a job, the difference between solely being on welfare and the paycheck could be made up by welfare, thus taking care of people and helping people find the dignity of work, which, St. Paul says, we need to do if we are able.
    But, as I mentioned earlier, caring for the poor cannot be pawned off on the government.  It was Ebenezer Scrooge in “A Christmas Carol” who complained that he paid taxes to care for the poor, so that should be enough.  We are called, to the extent that we’re able, to assist the poor personally, even if that means donating time instead of treasure (and I know the North End Soup Kitchen and Catholic Charities can use some volunteers).  Sometimes volunteering is the best way to help when we don’t know if the person begging at the top of the exit ramp truly needs the help (which I believe some do) or are trying to prey on people’s sympathies, though they could work rather than beg.
    But no matter how we do it, God–Father, Son, and Holy Spirit–invites us today to truly see the poor, not as a homogenous group of people, but as individuals, created in the image and likeness of God.  And as we look upon their suffering, to do what we can, even if just the smallest little bit, to show them the love of God by assisting them.  In that way, too, we can be part of a culture that respects all life, from natural conception to natural death.

Remember the Poor

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When it comes to preaching homilies, in seminary we were jokingly (but also a little seriously) told two keys: the 5 Bs and KISS.  The 5 Bs are: Be brief, boy, be brief; KISS stands for Keep It Simple, Stupid (Stupid being directed at the preacher).  I don’t know how brief I’ll be, but I can keep it pretty simple today.
    The readings today focus us on serving “outsiders.”  By outsiders I mean those about whom we heard in the first reading–the hungry, oppressed, homeless–but also anyone who is poor or marginalized.  As followers of Jesus, it is not enough to simply believe the right things (though that is important).  How we live, and how we treat others is also key.  We might say that those are the two parts of the greatest law (Love of God as right belief and right worship, and Love of Neighbor as right actions and morality). 
    This call by Jesus to change the way we treat others is part of what Jesus meant in the Gospel, that we are to be the “salt of the earth” and the “light of the world.”  By following Jesus, and living according to His way of life, we are to preserve what is good in society, and enlighten the parts of the world that are darkened by sin.  By being salt and light, we glorify our heavenly Father.
    St. John Chrysostom, one of the saints depicted in our icons, put it this way:

If you cannot remember everything, instead of everything, I beg you, remember this without fail, that not to share our own wealth with the poor is theft from the poor and deprivation of their means of life; we do not possess our own wealth but theirs.  If we have this attitude, we will certainly offer our money; and by nourishing Christ in poverty here and laying up great profit hereafter, we will be able to attain the good things which are to come, by the grace and kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ…

Chrysostom means golden-mouthed, and though it might not seem so golden, he is certainly right.  As followers of Jesus, as Catholics, we have an obligation to the poor and marginalized, to help them as much as we can.  “Not,” as St. Paul says, “that others should have relief while you are burdened, but that as a matter of equality your surplus at the present time should supply their needs.” 
    Some would suggest that we don’t need to help the poor, because that’s what our taxes supply.  And certainly, there are some ways that the government can help in ways that individuals cannot.  It would be very difficult, if not impossible, to provide public housing based on personal generosity.  It would be very difficult, if not impossible, to take care of basic health needs for people who have no real means of income, without some sort of larger program.  But it is also true that a perennial teaching of Catholic social morality is that individuals or smaller entities that can provide for a need should be allowed to, and only when individuals or the smaller entities cannot should a larger entity or government step in (we call this subsidiarity).
    I should also be clear that St. John Chrysostom is not advocating a wholesale redistribution of wealth.  We hear that a lot from politicians who openly proclaim themselves as socialists.  It is as if a political party can decide to become Robin Hood, and steal from the rich to give to the poor.  But the Church does not advocate socialism, or for people to deputize themselves to decide how much people need, and take the rest from them by force.  Private property and wealth are acceptable, as long as one realizes that the “outsiders” have a right to our assistance for anything beyond what we need for basic living.  Jesus reminds us of this fact in Matthew 25, when he says that we will be judged on how we treated the hungry, thirsty, naked, ill, and those in prison. 
    What that looks like for each person is different.  I can’t give you a dollar amount, or even a percentage, for how much you should be giving to those in need.  The number 10% is tossed around, as the idea of a Biblical tithe, and to the extent that you're able, I would encourage sharing 10% between your parish, maybe Catholic Charities and a few other charities, and having some available as you encounter the poor in your day to day life.  Catholic usually give less than 1% to their parish.  Maybe it’s time for you to consider giving 2% to St. Pius X.  Maybe you can give more.  Maybe you can’t give 2%.  Whatever it is, you’ll know what you can and can’t give, whether to your parish, to charities, and to individuals.
    But remember that, as followers of Jesus, we have a responsibility to the “outsiders.”  As we encounter the daily poor, we can decide best whether they are truly in need, or whether, sadly, they are trying to scam us.  We can decide what charities use the money best for the poor, and areas of our city, State, country, and world that we feel particularly drawn to support.  But the key is that we are committed to helping others to the extent that we are honestly able.  I’ll end here with one more quote from St. John Chrysostom:

Do you want to honor Christ’s body?  Then do not scorn him in his nakedness, nor honor him here in the church with silken garments while neglecting him outside where he is cold and naked.  For He who said: “This is my body,” and made it so by his words, also said: “You saw me hungry and did not feed me, and inasmuch as you did not do it for one of these, the least of my brothers, you did not do it for me.”

History is Going Somewhere

First Sunday of Advent

If you asked a seminarian for a description of Hell, he would likely say that Hell would be remaining in seminary forever.  Don’t get me wrong, seminary is a great place, and were some of the best eight years of my life (four in college, four in theology), but it had a goal: ordination to the priesthood.  Of course, there’s no way to teach us all the things we’ll need to know in seminary, but if they kept us until we knew everything we needed, we’d never become priests; we’d be seminarians forever; which would be Hell.

It think sometimes we forget that history has a goal.  History is not aimlessly meandering throughout the centuries and millennia.  History is proceeding to the final judgement.  History is going towards Jesus.  And our goal, as Catholics, is to make sure that we’re on the right side of history.  

History for the Jews was going towards Jesus, their long-awaited Messiah.  Jeremiah speaks the Lord’s message that God was going to “raise up for David a just shoot.”  God was going to fulfill His promise that a son of David would sit on the throne of Israel forever, and that promise was fulfilled in Jesus.  Of course, the Jews do not recognize Jesus as the Messiah, but He is the Messiah, and proved it throughout the Gospels .  

For us as Catholics, as the fulfillment of Judaism and  even the Gentiles (those who were joined to Judaism who were not originally part of the Chosen People), our goal is to remain faithful to Jesus the Messiah until He returns to judge the living and the dead.  St. Paul reminds us that we know how to conduct ourselves as pleasing to God, through the instructions that St. Paul gave us.  And not just St. Paul, but the apostles, joined in union with St. Peter and his successors, the popes, who are called to authentically teach us how to live out our faith, and how to follow Jesus in new times and places.  

Jesus Himself reminds us in the Gospel not to become drowsy from immoral behavior and the daily grind of life.  Instead, we are to be vigilant, waiting for that culmination of human history in the return of the Messiah who, at the end of time, will bring to fulfillment the victory He won on the cross.

And this season of Advent is our reminder to be ready, and to keep ourselves on the right side of history.  Advent is the time when, as the days grow darker, we focus more intently on the Light of the World that is Jesus.  Nations will be in dismay because they are not faithful to the teachings of Jesus.  The ending of the world will cause non-believers to fear because they will be on the wrong side of history and their days of power and control will come to an end.  Those who follow Jesus will “‘stand erect and raise [their] heads because [their] redemption is at hand.’”

What will remain?  Jesus and all that is in Him and His Mystical Body, the Church.  What will pass away?  Everything that is contrary to Jesus and His Mystical Body, the Church.  Sadly, we tend to see things more in a political view than in a Gospel view.  We give allegiance to this or that political group, but not as much to Jesus and His Church.  The Gospel and the unbroken teaching of the Church tell us that we cannot support abortion, artificial contraception, homosexual activity, and the philosophy that we can determine our gender independent of the way God has created our bodies.  Of course, to our American ears that sounds like I’m attacking women and diversity and the Democratic party.  And certainly, we are called to love those who try to promote or get an abortion, those who engage in homosexual acts, and those who are confused about their gender.  But at the same time that we love them we cannot endorse their actions.  The Gospel and the unbroken teaching of the Church also tell us that we have an obligation to assist the poor, especially those who cannot care for themselves, and to care for the stranger, the alien, and those in prison, to strive for just working conditions and a fare wage.  Of course, to our American ears that sounds like I’m supporting laziness, like I don’t care about national security, and am in the pockets of the unions, and attacking the Republican party.  But God the Father doesn’t call us to be part of a political party.  He calls us to follow Jesus with all that it entails, which cannot be entirely encompassed by one political party (at least not one that I’ve seen).  We can have strong borders, encourage others to work, and make sure that employees are not taken advantage of for profit.  But we also have to make sure that we are treating all people with human dignity, no matter what their circumstance in life.

Our goal is to advance our life and the lives of those around us, towards Christ, following what He teaches in its fulness, not picking and choosing the parts we like.  Our goal is to be part of the trajectory of history that is going towards Jesus, committed to Him entirely, not committed to other groups or ideologies before Jesus.  During this Advent, let’s recommit ourselves to moving towards the goal of history, towards Jesus, and avoiding being on the wrong side of the judgement of Christ.

Catholic Culture?

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            What would a Catholic culture look like today?  It can often be easier to bemoan the present than to dream of the future.  But let’s take some time to dream, to hope, to imagine what life could be like.  Now, we may think it’s a little arrogant to want to the culture to reflect our beliefs.  And I’m certainly not saying that we would set up a country where you can only enter if you’re Catholic.  But I’m talking about a world where the Catholic view of the world is so well lived that it’s in the air we breathe.  And we want it to be that way, but not because we can be the most powerful.  But if, as Vatican II says, Jesus reveals what humanity is called to be, then what we have we should want to share with everyone, not keep to ourselves.

           

That’s what Jesus means when He says in today’s Gospel passage, “‘You are the salt of the earth.  But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?  It is no longer good for anything…You are the light of the world.  A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden…Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.’”  We are meant to give flavor and light to the culture, to the world, and the more we do that, the more we encourage people into right belief and right worship.  Our life of service is meant to help fill this church.  And our worship in this church is meant to enable our life of service.  If all we do is serve without drawing people to conversion and belief in Jesus, then our service is missing a necessary component.  If our worship and belief do not propel us to serve others, than our worship and belief are empty.  As St. John, our heavenly patron, says in his first letter, if we don’t love the brother or sister whom we can see, how can we claim to love God whom we cannot see?

            In a Catholic culture, we embrace and serve the poor, especially those at our front door.  We do pretty good work here with our St. John Food Pantry.  But it goes beyond food bank.  It is a whole way of life.  Think about your clothes: what do you need, and what is extra?  For me, I have a rule that, because I have basically what I need—my clerical attire, some spring/summer casual clothes, and some fall/winter casual clothes—whenever I want to get a new article of clothing, I also have to donate something to the St. Vincent de Paul store.  I have one daily pair of boots, one dress pair of boots, Sperry’s for the summer time, and one pair of athletic shoes.  That’s all I need.  My parents go through shoes faster than I do, because they are more active with running.  That’s what they need.  Business leaders may need more suits than I do, because they go to more dressy functions, including many major charities.  Living a simple life will look a little different for each of us.  But the key is that we don’t just buy clothes because we want them; we buy clothes because we need them.  And should we feel we need a new article of clothing, we can, in many cases, give something else away.

            Another great question for us is how we spend our time caring for those at the fringes of society?  Our first reading is just one example of how God highlights His preference for the poor and outcast.  Is it because poverty and exclusion lead to holiness?  Not necessarily.  Poverty and being excluded can just as easily lead to hatred, jealousy, and vengeful thoughts and deeds.  But the poor and outcasts have no one else to rely on, and so God takes their cause.  And when we do the same, we spread God’s love.  We live as Jesus’ disciples by following the example of the Master.  In ancient cultures, widows were often part of the defenseless because they no longer had a husband to get them food, protect them, etc.  Widows are not so defenseless and helpless now, thank God, but I was just talking to a widow from our parish the other day, and I asked her how things were going.  She said they were ok, but she was lonely.  This is a woman who goes and has gone to Church at least every Sunday certainly for all of her adult life, and, from my four years here, has gone to many weekday Masses.  And yet no one makes time to visit her.  Sadly, I have not made much time, either, so I include myself in that challenge.  Financially widows find more protection these days, but how do we do at visiting widows and making sure they are not lonely?  In a parish about 3400 families, there should be no reason for any person to feel like they don’t have someone they can turn to, or someone to check in on them to make sure they’re alright.

            On this celebration of World Marriage Day, it’s also important that a Catholic culture is one that supports marriage as created by God.  A loving marriage between a man and a woman, with children lovingly welcomed and cared for is a great way to give people a good beginning to use their gifts and talents for the betterment of their city, State, and country, and for the building up of the city of God.  And working to protect that sacred institution is part of being salt and light.  Being salt and light also means that we welcome and support our brothers and sisters who have a same-sex attraction, and help them to strive, along with all of us—married, single, priests, and consecrated people—to live the chaste life that the Gospel calls us to.  Being salt and light also means that we help women who feel like they have no choice but to abort their babies to choose life, as we assist them through the difficulties of a pregnancy which so often has no other support.

            All of these issues that I just mentioned: poverty, spending habits, marriage and family life, and working to end abortion, are all part of the church’s teaching on social justice.  We can’t just pick the parts that we like.  If we say we are for social justice, then we embrace it all.  There are many in our one parish who are working for social justice in its different facets.  But we always need to challenge each other to make sure we’re doing all we can.  Maybe as individuals we can’t do it all, but as the Body of Christ, we can join together and support another in making our world more saturated with the Gospel as a Catholic culture.

Right in front of our Face

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Have you ever had a time when you really needed to get something done, or when you really wanted to get something, so much so that you miss a lot of the things that are right in front of you?  I know I have!  It’s so easy to become fixated on one thing or on a task to be done and to not be effected by anything else.  Sometimes it’s a positive: for example, most times when I’m celebrating Mass, I’m so focused that I don’t notice the babies screaming.  Many times parents come up to apologize for how loud they felt their child was, but it honestly didn’t bother me because I was focused on the celebration (and, for the record, screaming babies are a blessing to our church, because they remind us of new life, so don’t be giving dirty looks to parents who have screaming babies!!).  Sometimes it’s negative, like when we’re so focused on a task, we forget the people who are also involved.

            Perhaps the rich man from our Gospel today was such a person: determined, focused, wanting to get something done.  Maybe he was focused on nothing else but gaining more riches.  But what he missed was obvious: Lazarus, the poor man.  After all, Lazarus was at his doorstep, which means that every time the rich man left the house, he should have seen Lazarus.  And more than just seeing him, the rich man should have taken pity on him, and helped him out.  But he did not, and this neglect was to his own eternal peril.

            We’ve all heard this parable, probably countless times.  But who are the people who we don’t see because we’re so focused on something or someone else?  Who are the people that we step over, whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually, to get to our own goals?  The US Bishops have asked priests to talk a bit about the situation of immigrants in our country.  Now, let me preface this by saying that immigration policy is a complicated thing; if it weren’t we probably would have solved the problems already.  But what I can say with clarity is that we are obliged to treat immigrants with human dignity and respect, not step over them because they are nuisances.  When we think about how we think immigration should be handled, are we first and foremost thinking, “Is this they way I would treat Jesus?”  Because, especially the immigrants who come from Mexico, Central America, and Iraq, though not limited to them, are members of the household of faith!  Most of them are brother and sister Catholics!  And even those who are not still have human dignity and still are created in the image and likeness of God!

           

Our country has struggled with immigration for a long time because, while anyone who is not a Native American was an immigrant to these shores, after a few generations it can be hard to remember that.  On my mother’s side of the family, I only have to go back to my maternal grandmother to find a first generation American.  Many of us probably only have to go back 3 or 4 generations to find an immigrant in our family.  But we can forget that fact, and act like those, especially during the mid-nineteenth century from the Know Nothing party, or any of its variants, that wanted to make sure that the Catholics coming in droves, especially from Ireland and Germany, knew that they were not welcome here.  Again, the Church is not saying that we cannot have legal ways to enter the country, and penalties for doing so illegally, but as we form policy, as you write your Congressman and Senator, is your opinion formed by treating that person with the respect that comes simply from being a member of the human race?

            Even beyond the issue of immigration, the way we treat each other is part of the criteria upon which we will be judged.  The rich man suffers because he neglected Lazarus at his front door, while God noticed Lazarus, who suffered so greatly during his life, and rewarded him accordingly. 

And the best part of this whole story is the twist at the end.  The rich man begs Abraham to send Lazarus back from the dead to warn his brothers about what will happen if they neglect others.  Abraham tells them, “‘“They have Moses and the prophets.  Let them listen to them.” [The rich man] said, “Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.”  Then Abraham said, “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.”’”  For nearly 1500 years, the Jews had been told about the importance of caring for the widow, orphan, and poor.  But somehow, according to the rich man, that wasn’t enough.  Of course, standing from our perspective, we can see the humor and irony in Jesus telling this story, that some will not believe even when a person rises from the dead.  But then it begs a very sober question for us: does Jesus rising from the dead compel us to act differently?  Does it open our eyes and broaden our horizons so that we are not fixated in a negative way on just the things we want, or the tasks we are trying to accomplish, but sees those in need around us?  And we don’t have to look to Africa, Asia, or South America to find those in need; they are right here in East Lansing.

Sometimes we need to be focused on one thing alone.  But let’s not make that our rule of life, so we ignore and neglect Lazarus sitting at our front door, and risk eternal suffering because we did not help relieve that suffering in others right in front of us.

Be a Prophet!!

Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            So often I think when Catholics hear the word “prophet,” we think of someone who can foretell the future.  In fact, in the Biblical accounts, while prophets do sometimes tell people what will happen as a result of their sin or conversion, the prophets are the ones who speak for God.  Their job is not to say on what exact date the world is going to end (apparently that job was already taken by the Mayans), or which lottery numbers to play, but to speak for God.  And in our first reading, we hear how God pours out a spirit of prophecy of 70 elders.  Towards the end of the passage today, Joshua gets a little envious, and is upset that Eldad and Medad, who were outside the camp when they were supposed to be with Moses, still received the spirit of prophecy.  Moses then prophesies, “‘Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets!  Would that the Lord might bestow his spirit on them all!’”  That prophecy was fulfilled at Pentecost, when the Lord poured out His Spirit upon the Blessed Mother, the Apostles, and the Disciples gathered in the Upper Room.  And then the Lord poured out His spirit on the new believers. 

            We, for our part, have also been made prophets.  The Lord has poured out His Spirit on us in Baptism and Confirmation.  At Baptism we were anointed with the Sacred Chrism, which reminded us that we are now a member of the Anointed One, the Messiah, the Christ, and we share in his priestly, prophetic, and kingly ministry of all the faithful.  In Confirmation, the Bishop or Priest called down the Holy Spirit upon us through prayer, and then anointed us again with the Sacred Chrism to seal us with the gift of the Holy Spirit.  And so, the prophecy of Moses was fulfilled in us as we were made prophets, those who speak for God.

            As a good examination of conscience we can ask ourselves: how do we speak for God, both by our words (the prophets of the Old Testament are always saying, “Thus says the Lord”) and by our deeds (like when Jeremiah made the clay pot, or Ezekiel acted as if he were in exile)?

            Are we a prophet when it comes to defending the dignity of the poor and truly assisting them?  People can debate the best way to help the poor legitimately.  But, as prophets, we must ensure that the poor, widows, and orphans, those whom the Lord favors, are protected from neglect and are not punished for their lack of means.  Are we a prophet when it comes to defending the dignity and definition of marriage?  Our culture is really confused about marriage right now.  But we know that marriage was created by God as the union between one man and one woman for life, and that good, happy, holy marriages should be protected because of the important role they play in forming good, happy, and holy societies.  Are we a prophet for the infant in the womb and the homebound, who are so often neglected?  Do we give those who do not have a voice our voice and speak for God so that mothers and fathers can make the only good choice, the choice for life, and so that the homebound are not “done away with” because they are a burden to society?  Are we prophets for religious freedom, the God-given right that we have to worship and to take what we have received in worship into the public sector and not be punished for our beliefs or for serving those who are not Catholic?

            Are we prophets by what we say and what we do (and in this election year, being a prophet includes speak for God when we vote)?  When we are not prophets, by what we say and by what we do, then we causes others to sin by assisting them in thinking that God’s message does not really matter; that we can separate what we believe and how we live.  That is the sin of scandal, and it occurs when, by our words or actions, we provide a witness that does not live up to our prophetic call to speak for God, so that others do not consider, for example, protecting the poor, the infant in the womb, the homebound, the true definition of marriage, and religious freedom.  When we don’t exercise our prophetic vocation that we received in Baptism and Confirmation, others notice: when they know that as Christians we are called to assist the poor as an act of charity, and yet we make wealth and possessions our little idols; when we say we’re pro-life but then our actions don’t reflect that belief; when we don’t assist married couples, especially when times are difficult for them; when we are silent in the midst of the government telling us that they will decide who qualifies for conscience protection; then we cause scandal and lead others to think that those issues don’t really matter.  And if that happens, woe to us, because Jesus is quite clear what we can expect: “‘it would be better for him [or her] if a great millstone were put around his neck and he were thrown into the sea.’”

            But, when we live up to our prophetic call to infuse the culture, our families, our neighborhoods, our jobs, politics, and all aspects of life with the message of God, the Gospel, then we will not lose our reward.  When we speak for God and not for ourselves, then others will know what God wants for this world in order that all people might life in peace, justice, and the love of God.  The Spirit of the Lord is upon you, because He has anointed you.  Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord.

Doers of the Word

Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

            I’m sure this has never happened with anyone here, but imagine a scenario where a parent tells a child to do something while that child is doing something else like watching TV, or playing video games, reading, or texting.  Then imagine that, lo and behold, that child does not, in fact, do what the parent tells the child to do (I know, this must be shocking for you that this actually happens in some families).  The usual response from the parent would be some variation of, “Why didn’t you listen to me?”

            St. James tells us in the second reading, that we are to be “doers of the word and not hearers only.”  We have been blessed with the greatest message of all time.  It started in the Old Testament, with the message that God had chosen a people, and had cared for them and brought them to a land.  And, even after they were enslaved, God freed them and returned them to that land flowing with milk and honey.  He game them laws so that they might be just and upright, and know the good to do and the evil to avoid.  This is what Moses is talking about in the first reading.

            And even “when through disobedience [humanity] had lost [God’s] friendship, He did not abandon [us] to the domain of death…Time and again [God] offered them covenants and through the prophets taught [us] to look forward to salvation.”  And then, “in the fullness of time [God] sent [His] Only Begotten Son to be our Savior.  Made incarnate by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary, he shared our human nature in all things but sin…To accomplish [God’s] plan, [Jesus] gave himself up to death, and, rising from the dead, he destroyed death and restored life.”  And the Church was formed, the New Israel, who was called to proclaim this Good News of the death and resurrection of Jesus, which saves us from our sins.  And, in response to this love first shown to us in God, the members of the Body of Christ are to configure themselves to Jesus, by the guidance of the teaching of the Apostles and their successors who continue the teaching of Jesus in new times and new circumstances.

            That is the Good News that we received.  That is the Good News that we are to proclaim.  But are we just hearers of the Word?  Does what Jesus said apply to us, too: “‘Well did Isaiah prophesy about you hypocrites, as it is written: This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me;’”?    Week after week we hear the Word of God and we receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, our Savior.  But does it change us?  Has the Gospel penetrated our hearts?  In the movie “Godfather III,” the cardinal who hears Michael Corleone’s confession pulls a small rock out from a fountain of water.  It is wet, of course, on the outside.  But he breaks the rock in two, and the inside is dry.  He says that the people are like the rock in the fountain.  They have been surrounded by the water of Christianity for centuries, but Christ, like the water, has not penetrated them.  How many of us are surrounded by Christianity, but Christ has no penetrated us because we are hearers of the word only, and not doers?

            St. James tells us that if we are hearers only, and not doers, then we are deluding ourselves.  If we think that being surrounded by Christianity is enough, then we have truly not heard Jesus, just as the child did not truly hear its parent.  At our baptism, a solemn promise was made for us, if we were infants, or we made it for ourselves, if we were adults: that we would reject sin and Satan, that we would believe in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and that we would raise the child in the faith, and practice it ourselves.  This is the same promise that these families will make today for their children.  We promised to be doers of the word.  God, for His part, promised to assist us in that promise with sacramental grace which would strengthen us to do what we cannot without His help.  Have we lived up to these promises?  Have we, in the ways we are able, changed the world to better reflect the Gospel?  Or have we tried to let the culture change the Gospel to better reflect our world?  Have we been the salt of the earth, preserving our corner of the world in holiness of life, of have we lost our flavor? 

            For months we have been hearing from politicians how they have the right policies that will bring America prosperity.  We will hear how they will do x, y, and z to protect the poor, defend life from natural conception to natural death, to turn the economy around, etc.  And politics certainly has a legitimate role to play in implementing the Gospel.  But, before that can be effective, we ourselves must be converted.  We must be doers of the word, and not hearers only.  Because if we are truly doers of the word then we ourselves will guard against greed and consumerism and will hold others to that as well.  If we are doers of the word then we will assist the poor, truly helping them to use the gifts God has given them for their benefit and the benefit of society.  If we are doers of the word then we will stand up for the rights of the defenseless infant in the womb from the moment of conception and the elderly who are sick, both of whom can easily be exploited because they are the weakest members of our society.  If we are doers of the word then we will stand up for religious freedom so that we can truly practice our faith in peace, and not be compelled to do anything which is against the teaching of Christ and His Church.  “Dearest brothers and sisters:…Be doers of the world and not hearers only.”

"Little Baby Jesus" ~Ricky Bobby

Epiphany of the Lord

            Just a few weeks ago the trailer for “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” was released.  As a big “Lord of the Rings” fan, both the books and the movies, I was pretty excited.  It looks to be a good movie telling the first half of the tale of Bilbo Baggins’ adventure.  Still, there’s always a little awkwardness that can come when, if you’ve read the books, you picture characters looking a certain way, and then on the screen the actors with all their makeup look different than you pictured.

            Today, as we celebrate the Epiphany of the Lord, we celebrate Jesus showing Himself forth to the nations, the Gentiles, the non-Jews, represented in the three magi who came from the east.  The very word epiphany could be translated as “showing forth.”  And, in fact, the Solemnity of the Epiphany has, historically, celebrated the three manifestations of Jesus: to the magi, at His baptism, and at the wedding of Cana, where Jesus, in three different ways at different times, made Himself known to others. 

            But, sticking with the Gospel passage we have today, I wonder if the magi saw what they expected.  They told King Herod that they were traveling to see the “newborn king of the Jews.”  So when they showed up at the home of Joseph and Mary, and saw a little boy, living in humble circumstances, I wonder if they were taken aback.  As they were offering their precious gifts: gold for a king, frankincense for a deity, and myrrh for a rich burial, I wonder what they thought of this little boy.

            We, of course, have ways that we like to think of Jesus.  Maybe we’re like Ricky Bobby from “Talladega Nights,” and we like to think of our Lord as “little baby Jesus.”  Or maybe when we picture Jesus we think of a king in royal robes and a crown.  Perhaps we think of Jesus as a poor, itinerant preacher, a radical of His own day.  Or maybe we see Jesus as a strong carpenter.  Or when we think of Jesus, maybe we always see Him on the cross.  In whatever way we like to think of Jesus, it is still the case that Jesus continues to surprise us by his presence.

            For some, Jesus surprises them by being present today in his brothers and sisters: in the poor begging on the corner; in our family members, especially the ones that we want to avoid; in the terminally ill; in the elderly; in those with a same-sex attraction, or in broken marriages.  And yet, Jesus still makes Himself present in these people, who have inherent goodness because they are human persons, created in the image and likeness of God, who, no matter what good or bad choices they have made, still deserve our love and can still manifest Christ, even if it’s harder to see at times.  In these manifestations, Jesus continues to make Himself known, and we still are called to care for Him who lays hidden beneath those human frailties. 

The life of St. Martin of Tours, whom the Church celebrates on November 11^th, bares this out in a very clear way.  St. Martin was a soldier, and he was riding his horse in the cold winter.  Along the road was a poor man who barely had any clothes on and was freezing.  Martin cut his cloak in two with his sword, and gave half to that poor man so that he could warm, even if just a little.  That night, St. Martin had a vision of Jesus wearing that cloak, and realized what Jesus meant when, in Matthew 25, He said, “What you did for the least of my brothers and sisters you did for me.”

In our own times, there are a number of people, maybe right here in our own parish, who struggle to see Jesus manifest Himself through His Mystical Body, the Church.  And certainly, some members of the Church don’t always make it easy to see Christ in the Church.  We certainly are a corpus permixtum, as St. Augustine of Hippo calls us, a group made up of both sinners and saints.  And yet, in a mysterious way, the Church is the mystical and immaculate Body of Christ, without sin, and communicating the fruits of Christ’s own redeeming life to those who cling to it.  As Timothy Cardinal Dolan has said on many occasions, “Christ and his Church are one.”  You cannot have one without the other, period.  Or, to quote the Catechism, which quotes St. Cyprian of Carthage, “No one can have God as Father who does not have the Church as Mother.”

How often do we hear the phrase, again, sometimes from Catholics, “I’m spiritual, but not religious”?  Or, “I have a great relationship with Jesus, but I don’t want to mess it up by getting other people involved.”  When Jesus manifests Himself, even today, He does so always with His Mystical Body, the Church, and never apart from her.  To quote the great Vatican II theologian, Henri de Lubac, “For what would I ever know of him, without her?” 

Does this mean that everyone who represents the Church is always perfect and always right?  Certainly not.  Does this mean that we should never struggle with some of the teachings of the Church on matters of faith and morals?  Some people do struggle with what the Church teaches, seeking to understand what the Church has defined as belonging to the deposit of faith.  But, when it comes to matters of faith and morals, we can know that when the Church acts, it is Jesus acting through her, whether it’s on the Church’s teaching on abortion, contraception, the preferential option for the poor, marriage, who Christ is, who the Church is, and down the line.  We may not have been expecting to see Christ in that way, but just because we do not expect Christ to be shown forth in that way does not mean it is not Christ.  Maybe instead of wanting the Church to change to fit our desires, we need to change our desires to fit with the Church.

Jesus continues to manifest Himself to us, as He did to the magi 2,000 years ago.  As He likely shocked the magi then, sometimes He may shock us in His manifestation.  The question for us is whether, like the magi, we will choose to lay down what is precious for us: our time, our treasure, and our assent of the will in faith.  I would suggest that, for many of us, money and an independent will are the two things which are most precious to us.  Will we lay them down at the feet of Jesus Christ as He manifests Himself to us in the marginalized and in His Mystical Body, the Church?