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.

Giving Up

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    When we think about giving up stuff as Catholics, probably our mind first turns to Lent.  That’s the season when we specifically give up particular foods or practices in our life.  If we were to think about it even more, we might think about religious sisters and brothers, nuns and monks, priests and bishops who give up certain things through their vows (for consecrated men and women) and promises (for priests and bishops). 
    And Jesus talks about giving stuff up in the Gospel today.  He says, “‘Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,’” and “‘Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.’”  He says this to His apostles, and so it can be easy to think that lay people don’t have to give up any of that stuff.  That’s for those people who take vows and promises.
    This is not to say that the life of a consecrated man or woman, or a priest or bishop is nothing but denial.  Our first reading may be the first example of inviting the priest, er, prophet over for dinner.  But getting back to giving up stuff, it’s truly for everyone, not just me, Bishop Boyea, or the sisters.  The call to follow Christ and to abandon certain things is for all who call themselves disciples, not just those who have made a special commitment through vows or promises.  Now, it’s true that not everyone vows or promises to abstain from marital relations (otherwise we’d never have any children); or to obey a superior (though some husbands may argue that, for all intents and purposes, they have a vow of obedience to their wife, with very harsh penalties for disobedience!); or to live simply (like priests and bishops) or not have their own bank account or grasp on to personal possessions (like sisters, nuns, brothers, and monks).  But when we were baptized, we all committed to, or our parents committed us to, give up certain ways of life and certain practices which are inconsistent with being a follower of Jesus.
    That’s why St. Paul can say that we died with Christ in baptism.  Yes, His Death was given to us, so that we could have life, but we also died to anything which is contrary to Him.  And by dying to anything contrary to Him, we live by all the things which are united to Him: life, joy, peace.  Death, which comes from sin, no longer has power over us who are baptized, unless we invite death and sin back into our lives through our individual choices.
    There are two ways that I would invite us to think about living for Christ and dying to that which is opposed to Him this weekend.  The first is thinking about our relationship with Christ in a consumerist mentality.  Almost everything we do today is touched by the reality we have in our economic life, where I get what I want or I go somewhere else.  I am the judge of what is best, and I get what I want, when I want it, how I want it.  That’s not horrible when we’re talking about a restaurant, or a clothes store.  But when it comes to our faith, that approach is an approach of death and the antithesis of what it means to follow Christ.
    We do not follow Christ on our own terms.  We do not get to decide exactly where I want God’s grace, when I receive it, or how I receive it.  That consumerist mentality makes us the master and Christ our lackey.  Or, to use another analogy, the Church is not a country club to which we can belong, where, if we don’t get the service we want, we end our membership and go elsewhere.  Christ offers us eternal life, but He offers it to us in His way, because He is the way.  And if we do not like how Christ offers us life, we cannot find it anywhere else.  When we seek to make Christ and His Church change to our fleeting whims and fancies, we are trying to find our life, but will lose it.  But when we lose our life to conform it to the way Christ shows us, then we actually find eternal life. 
    [Especially here at St. Pius X, we know that there will be changes in the near future and the coming months.  It is fine and natural to mourn a Mass time that we loved and a parish that we loved that has declined in population.  But if we allow that pain to say uncharitable things, to pout like toddlers, and to abandon our practice of the faith altogether, then our desire for what we want has actually become an obstacle to Christ and the grace He desires to give us, especially the grace that comes from suffering with Him patiently.]
    The second way to think about living for Christ and dying to that which is opposed to him is how we view Sunday.  Growing up, there was, for me, two parts of the week: weekdays, and weekends.  But for a follower of Christ, each week usually has two parts: Sunday and every other day.  Sunday is the day that belongs to the Lord, that we assemble to worship God at Mass, that we spend time with family and friends, or doing works of charity, and that we rest.  Our day of rest as followers of Christ is Sunday.  God wants us to rest in Him, to give Him fitting worship, and to build up the relationships of love among ourselves, especially on His day.  But too often it’s just another day of the week, another day of work, another day of sports. 
    Don’t get me wrong, some have to work on Sunday, either because of their field of work, or because of a shortage of workers.  But, to the best of our ability, do we accomplish our chores on the other days of the week?  Do we take time to get off our phones and spend time not with the FaceTime app, but with face time with our family and friends in person?  I am convinced that if we treated Sunday as the Lord’s day, if we died to this secular idea that it’s just another day for work, and rose to the idea that it’s time that we get to eat together as family and friends and share how life is going, many of our problems would go away.  There will always be work to do; there will always be chores that need finishing.  Let Sunday be a day that your worship God at Mass, and relax with each other and with God. 
    When we were baptized, we died with Christ.  The rest of our life is following-up on that dying to everything which is not of Christ, so that we can live for Him.  All of us are called to give up something for Christ.  Will we find eternal life by giving up the works of death?

Giving God Your Nothing Left

 Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
    People think priests have a hard life.  And, in some ways, we do.  We’re on call 24/6 (I do get one day off per week), it’s not uncommon to have evening meetings after a full day of work, because that’s when people are most often free to meet.  Because people have their own ideas (sometimes based in theology, sometimes not) about how long homilies should be, how warm (or cold) the church should be, what songs should be sung, etc., the priest often gets peppered with complaints from all sides.  So yeah, it is tough at times, but we are also taken care of and loved pretty well.
    I think parents have a hard life.  If it put myself in their shoes, I wouldn’t want to be working all day, probably putting up with many similar things as priests in terms of working conditions, complaints, expectations, etc., and then come home, only to have to prepare some dinner, often from scratch, clean-up after dinner, help the kids with homework, and then, hopefully, have some time to catch up with a few things around the house, maybe have a little alone time with the spouse, before going to bed to start all over on the next day.  That sounds like a tough vocation!!
    I know I have been, and I’m sure parents have been, at the point where I feel like I’ve got nothing left.  Maybe it’s been a long day, or there’s a long day coming on the following day, or an earlier start, and I’m exhausted, and then there’s a call to go to the hospital, or, because I work with MSP, to go out to a homicide or meet with a Trooper who can use some comforting words.  And I know parents are in a similar boat so frequently.  So you give, even though you think you’ve got nothing left to give, and somehow, it works out to be enough.
    The same was true for the widows we heard about in the first reading and the Gospel.  Can you imagine being in a famine, and all you have left is a handful of flour, just enough to make a couple of cakes for you and your son, and then this man of God comes and asks you to make some for him?  I think if I did that, I’d be run out of the house, maybe even the parish and county!  But the woman gives, and Elijah makes sure that the woman doesn’t run out during the famine.  She gave beyond what she thought she could, and God rewarded that generosity.

Examples of the widow's coins

    Or in the Gospel, the widow is giving two coins that she needs probably to feed herself to the temple, to offer to God something.  The value wasn’t large, but the sacrifice was her everything.  She gave, even after she had nothing left.  And yet, the Lord commends her gift, more than those who were putting in large amounts of money, because she was giving when she had nothing left, while the others were giving while making sure they had something left over.  
    God invites us to trust in Him as we give to Him.  And I’m not talking only about money (though, we’re always happy to receive that from you).  I’m talking about giving to God time and energy and whatever is going on in your life, even if you don’t think you’re giving God much, even if you feel like what you have to give to God isn’t worth giving.
    Maybe life is crushing you right now, and it takes all you can muster to come to Mass.  It would be so much easier to stay home and rest.  And yet, you came to give God that little bit.  And God will reward that.  Or maybe you’re just trying to make sure your kid doesn’t run away during Mass, or trying to make sure that he or she is not a major distraction (though, truth be told, I am rarely distracted by kids and love having them around at Mass).  You don’t think you’re getting much out of Mass, but you’re giving to God what little attention you can call up while you supervise your child at Mass.  And God accepts that and makes it a loving sacrifice, received with gratitude because it’s your gift.
    Parents often get gifts from their children that are made at school that are not that expensive, and maybe are not Michelangelo sculptures or Rembrandt paintings.  But those are still treasured gifts (how many moms have kept those little gifts throughout the years!?) because the child is giving what he or she can.  The same is true for God: when we give God what we can, He treasures it as the perfect gift.
    God even receives the fallen parts of us, our sins.  Through the Sacrament of Penance (aka confession or reconciliation), God deigns to take our brokenness and failings from us, so that we can be made whole.  I know that sometimes it seems like the sins may be small, or maybe the sins are awkward to acknowledge, or maybe it’s just that we confess the same sins over and over again.  In any case, God wants to receive that as our small gift, the last little bit we have left, so that it doesn’t stand in the way of our relationship with Him.  Obviously our sins are not good; they’re not our finest moments as human beings.  But God takes it upon Himself so that we might have life in place of death, grace in place of sin, light in place of darkness.
    I don’t know about you, but I feel like more and more people are at their wit’s end these days.  I meet people who feel like they have nothing left to give.  At that moment, offer to God that nothing, that fatigue, that exhaustion.  It may not seem like much, but neither did the two coins offered by the widow in the Gospel, or the handful of flour offered by the widow in the first reading.  But if it’s what you have, God will accept and bless it, and will make it enough.

Start Small

Promising obedience at my priestly ordination

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time    

     This past Friday I celebrated my 11th Anniversary of being a priest.  It’s honestly hard for me to grasp that I’ve been a priest for over ten years already, as the years have just flown by (and everyone tells me that life only speeds up the older I get!).  I remember when I started college seminary in the fall of 2002.  I had 8 years ahead of me of studying and being formed to be a priest after the Sacred Heart of Jesus, at least as close as the seminary could make me.  But I remember thinking that it would take such a long time, and at times it felt like ordination would never happen!
    But the eight years did fly by, and now 11 years have somehow gone even faster.  The days were long, but the years were short.  Still, by trying to do my best each day, and working hard to be receptive by God’s grace, those long days added up becoming a much shorter period than I expected. 
    When we have a daunting task, it can seem like it will never get done.  For gardeners it can be weeding a flower bed after it’s been let go for some time.  For homeowners it can be a major project around the house.  For parents it can be raising children.  For children it can be looking forward to graduating from high school when you’re in 6th grade.  Whatever it is, if we try to think about the entire picture, we can easily give up because it’s too challenging, it seems too big of a project, it appears like it will never get done.
    The same can be said for spreading the faith and preparing for heaven.  It can seem like we’re never going to make a difference or have someone come back to or join the Church.  Or living a saintly life can seem like we have to change so many things immediately, and it will never get done.  St. Paul reminds us today that we are to be courageous.  We should not let the magnitude of the task at hand as followers of Jesus get us down.
    Instead, Jesus reminds us in the Gospel that great things start from small things.  The mustard seed is quite small, but it turns into a larger bush.  The plants never seem to grow quickly enough, but then, before you know it, they are sprouting and bearing fruit.  If you were to look at the growth each day, it would seem miniscule.  But, over time, the growth is real and measurable.
    I would suggest that, for at least some of us, this is the approach that we should take to evangelization.  Perhaps we think about evangelization as walking around the City of Flint, knocking on doors and telling others about Jesus.  And that is one way.  Or maybe we think about a big event, with a world-renown speaker, with showy lights and technological wonders.  Those things can work, and especially for extroverts those can be great avenues for spreading the faith.  But what if you’re an introvert?  What if the idea of going door-to-door and talking to strangers about Jesus sounds as enticing as a root canal without novocaine? 
    If that is you, then I would encourage you to remember to start small.  And you may not even be starting small to finish big; maybe you’re just continuing to spread the faith in small ways.  But those small ways will pay off.  Despite the requirements of my job, I’m not a “big crowds” kind of guy.  I would rather have a conversation with one or two or maybe even three people, max.  While my vocation foists me into opportunities where I am with larger groups, I really feel most comfortable talking one-on-one.  And I find I’m most effective that way.
    So the way I try to spread the faith is to find one person with whom I can talk about Jesus.  Sometimes they’re already believers, and they just want to grow in their faith more.  Sometimes they don’t know Jesus.  But I find that it can really help them to understand who Jesus is, or what the Church believes, when I can just be with one or two persons.
    Now, converting the world to Catholicism (which is our goal), would seemingly take forever just one or two people at a time, especially when that conversion often takes months, or years, or sometimes even decades.  But those relationships that are formed with one or two individuals can often be long lasting, and can be relationships of trust that allows a person more easily to open him or herself up to Christ.  And, if that one person is transformed by Christ, then hopefully he or she can find one or two people with whom they can share the Gospel.  And pretty soon, what started small has become a conglomerate of people who are alive in their faith, all because a person decided to share about Jesus with a friend or a neighbor or even a stranger. 
    Our call to be a part of the New Evangelization can seem daunting when we look at the big picture.  But if it’s overwhelming, just bite off a smaller bite; think about one person with whom you can talk about Jesus, and share the faith with that one person.  It may start small, but the good things in the Kingdom of God often do.

Rebuild My Church

Solemnity of the Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Pius X Catholic Church

As we celebrate this 62nd anniversary of the dedication of St. Pius X church, the first thing that came to mind was the admonition given to St. Francis in the church of San Damiano in Assisi: Rebuild my church.  This is what St. Francis heard a voice say to him.  Being the practical man that he was, he started to gather stones because that little church was falling apart.  But soon he realized, even as he completed that little church that still stands today, that God was giving him a bigger mission: to help rebuild the Church, the people of God, that that little church, the building, symbolized.

Ever since Vatican II, it has been vogue to say that the buildings don’t matter; that what matters is the people.  Like all errors, it’s attractive because it’s partly true.  But being partly true, it’s also partly false.  Buildings do matter–the way they look, their shape, how they are decorated and adorned–because God uses material things to communicate His grace, His life.  Our minds need order, and a building orders creation, and orders it for a particular use: for the worship of God.  No other place helps us worship God more than a church, especially a beautiful one.  Yes, seeing a sunset on Lake Michigan with the hues of pink and red against the blue background and white clouds is a way to experience God; no, it’s not the same as worshipping God in a church.  Inside the church is better because God dwells here in a special way that He does not in nature.  

And yet, the people do matter, because the building represents what the people are called to be: living stones in God’s temple.  Some of us are more chiseled than others.  But we are the stones that God uses to build His temple, built on the foundation of the apostles, with Christ Jesus Himself as the cornerstone, the stone that holds everything together.  We are the church, just like this building is a church.  And just like this building is ordered, not just stones randomly placed on each other, so the church is made up of different people with different roles, functions, and ministries, which keep the church going.

But today, just as in the 13th century, the church needs to be rebuilt.  And in this case, I’m not talking about this building, though it can always use repairs and beautifications.  But I’m talking about the people.  We need to rebuild God’s Church.  It is falling apart.  The gates of Hell will not prevail against it, as Jesus promised St. Peter when He made him the first pope, but we need to strengthen this building.  Some of the stones are covered in filth of crimes against children; some of the stones are covered in filth of breaking promises of chastity; some of the stones are covered in filth of cover-ups and dereliction of duty.  And the only thing that will change that, the only thing that will take us from these dark days of scandal is if we are the stones that God wants us to be in His temple.

There are three ways that we rebuild the Church and are the stones that God wants us to be in His temple.  And they are connected to our identity given to us in baptism to be priests, prophets, and kings.  

Our identity as kings does not make us in line to become an earthly monarch like Princes William and Harry.  Our identity as kings allows us to govern, not only our passions, but also to transform this world to look more like the Kingdom of God, in whose kingdom we are subjects by baptism.  We are not all called to be politicians, but we are all called to transform this world in our day to day lives.  That means we cannot settle for the common argument, “My faith tells me that X is wrong, but I don’t want to force my view on another.”  One example shows how foolish that sentiment is: My faith tells me that murder is wrong, but I don’t want to force my view on another.  If we really believe murder is wrong, then we should work as hard as we can, in many different ways, to prevent murder from happening.  If it’s truly wrong, then it’s wrong for everyone, not just Catholics.  To rebuild the Church, we cannot be satisfied with being Catholic only within the walls of this church.  Our faith, strengthened by a worthy reception of the Eucharist, should exude from us in everything we do.  We have too many part-time Catholics who only live their faith when they go to Mass, if they go to Mass.  Live your life saturated with the teachings of Jesus.  It will rebuild the Church.

As prophets, we are called to proclaim God’s Word.  Prophets were not early fortune tellers, who told you what lottery numbers to play.  Prophets spoke God’s Word, and told of what would happen if God’s Word was not obeyed.  Jeremiah did it in the 7th century BC in Judah, when he told the people that they needed to live their faith out, especially in the treatment of the poor, widows, and orphans, or else the consequences were exile and destruction of the Temple.  Very few, especially the princes, listened to Jeremiah, and so the people went into exile, and the Temple was destroyed.  We, too, are called to speak God’s Word to others.  We are called to do so charitably: “Stop X or you’ll go to Hell!” has rarely found a welcome ear.  But letting others know how God’s law and the teachings of the Church help us to be happier people, that’s something people listen to, especially when spoken out of love.  Live your life proclaiming the teachings of Jesus and His Mystical Body, the Church.  It will rebuild the Church.

Last but not least is priest.  Now, the priesthood of the baptized is different not only in grade but also in kind from the ministerial priesthood.  But both are important.  And being a priest by virtue of baptism means offering our daily sacrifices to God like a priest offering a sheep or goat in the Old Testament.  The sacrifice that God desires from us is a contrite, humble heart.  He wants us to recognize that He is God, and we are not.  He wants us to do penance for our sins, and even the sins of others, so that God’s mercy, and not God’s judgement, may rain down from heaven.  Sacrifice is not fun; it’s not easy; it always calls us to not do things we would like to do.  But it’s how we live out our call to be priests.  Not eating meat on Fridays was a sacrifice all Catholics used to do every week.  Maybe we should return to that.  Sacrificing five minutes of our time to pray is a great sacrifice.  Praying for that person that drives us mad is a great sacrifice.  Praying an extra rosary, reading the Bible, coming to daily Mass if we can, those are all sacrifices.  Sacrificing time and energy and the things we love is not easy; it requires personal commitment.  But living out your baptismal priesthood will rebuild the Church.

Today God says to each of us what He said to St. Francis of Assisi: rebuild by Church.  By living out our vocation as priests, prophets, and kings, we can be shaped and chiseled into the living stones that build up God’s temple.  It may hurt at times; it will always require a sacrifice; but without you, the People of God, the Church, living out this call, then the Church will remain in ruins, not destroyed, but not thriving, either.  Rebuild God’s Church!

Glorifying God and Lifting Burdens

Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

This week is the week the Church in the United States focuses on promoting vocations to the priesthood, diaconate, and consecrated life, and it’s called National Vocation Awareness Week.  That may seem odd, because our first reading from Malachi and our Gospel passage sound pretty rough on priests.  God the Father, speaking through Malachi, has some harsh words for priests: “If you do not listen, if you do not lay it to bear, to give glory to my name, says the LORD of hosts, I will send a curse upon you.”  God the Son, Jesus, also is critical of the scribes and Pharisees, who were not necessarily priests, but who were leaders of the Jewish communities in their day: “‘The scribes and Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses.  Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example.  For they preach but they do not practice.  They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to move them.’”  It doesn’t sound like God the Father or Jesus has much love for priests and religious leaders!

  But, on the contrary, God the Father and Jesus both love priests, but they both also hold priests to a very high standard, because they are acting in God’s Name and are called to reflect who God is.  As Jesus says elsewhere, “To whom much has been given, much will be expected.”  God through Malachi chastises the priests because they are not leading the people in giving glory to God’s Name.  And Jesus does not condemn the priests for what they are teaching, but for what they fail to do in terms of helping God’s people.  Sadly, in our own country, a few priests have not led the people in glorifying God, and they have not helped God’s people, but have hurt them, sometimes in horrific ways.  

So what is the solution?  Should we get rid of priests?  Should we close down the seminaries and become Christian communities who do not have priests because a small group of priests have not lived up to their vocation?  To do so would be not put ourselves as masters of the Church, and as I preached a few months ago, it is not our Church; the Church belongs to Jesus; She is His Bride.  Instead, we need better priests.

People often ask me what I do each day (usually right before someone else chimes in that priests only work for an hour or two on Sundays).  And I can say that no two days are exactly the same.  There are some common things, but you never know what will happen on any given day.  The most important part of my job is to do what Malachi said: to lead you in giving glory to God, and that happens most perfectly, most eminently, in the Mass.  The Mass is the high point of my day, as I offer to God the Father through Christ the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit, the one, acceptable sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross for the salvation of the world.  And in that, I hopefully draw you in, not to glorify ourselves, not to focus inward on how great we are, because we are not great, but rather, to glorify God and so focus on serving God first in the Mass and then after the Mass in our daily lives.  That is the key to a priest’s life: the Mass; the Eucharist.

Outside of that, I try to do what Jesus condemned the scribes and Pharisees for not doing: practicing what I preach, and lifting burdens from people’s shoulders.  Practicing what I preach means treating ever parishioner the way I would want to be treated, and treating them according to what the Church, sitting on the Chair of St. Peter, has taught, never giving special consideration because a person is famous, gives a lot, or is a friend.  Each day I also try to lift the burdens of the people in my parish, as I talk to them about their marriages, as I hear their confessions and offer them God’s mercy, as I try to help our school students see how much God loves them and help them to mature as Catholic young men and women.  Does it take a lot out of me?  Certainly.  Being a priest is about giving of oneself, in a similar way to how marriage is about giving of oneself (without the sex part).  But that is why the Eucharist is so important, because it is the source of the strength and wisdom, without which a priest would quickly burn out and become useless.

The reality is that we need more priests.  We need courageous, adventurous men who are trying to live according to God’s law to become priests.  We don’t need sissies; they won’t make it.  The priesthood calls for a man’s man; not a man with machismo, who is all about his own strength, but for a man who seeks to glorify God and care for the people entrusted to his care, even when the people don’t want the care that he knows God wants for them.  You don’t have to be perfect to become a priest; I’m living proof of that!  But you do have to want to follow God as perfectly as you can, so that God can be glorified, and His people can be cared for in love and truth.  

Trusting God with our Future

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

These readings for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time providentially connect well with my final Sunday as pastor of St. Joseph.  This is one of the amazing things about the Word of God.  It always has something to say to us to strengthen us, to comfort us, and to provide us with the way forward in our lives, no matter what is happening.

I do have to say, though, it is a bit funny that the first reading is about Elijah calling Elisha away from his home, and the Gospel includes a passage where Jesus affirms that He has no permanent home in His ministry, unlike the foxes and birds who have their dens and nests.  

When I was ordained a priest, six years ago, I put my hands in Bishop Boyea’s hands, and Bishop Boyea asked me, “Do you promise respect and obedience to me and my successors?”  I answered, “I do.”  Bishop Boyea then continued, “May God who has begun the good work in you bring it to fulfillment.”  Bishop Boyea didn’t tell me that moving to Flint was part of my promise of obedience to him.  But as he asked me to leave my home, Adrian, behind, I knew that God was asking me to let go of that which I treasured, and entrust myself to Him, just as Elisha had to entrust himself to God as he followed Elijah.

One of the things that may seem crazy is the life of a priest.  The decision to give up money, the ability to make the major decisions in our life, to be obedient to another, as well as to give up sex and a biological family, seems, in the view of our society to be crazy.  It might even sound boring or too much to give up.  But, even with the very real sacrifices that I do make, I am grateful to God that He called me to be a priest, and I would make the same decision again if I had to.  I also can think of at least 8 young men who are in the parish (in addition to Jake, the seminarian who is living with me) or are from the parish who would make a good priest (I won’t embarrass them by naming them).  If you are a young man, even if you think you know exactly what you want to do with your life, do not be afraid to be open to the will of God.  If you have heard that little voice in your heart suggesting a priestly vocation, at least look into it.  Keep praying about it.  And do not be afraid to see if that is where the Lord is calling you.

But that attitude of abandonment to God’s will is not just for priests.  As Christians, we are all called to a radical trust in God in every circumstance.  And sometimes God calls us to walk away from what we think is best in order that we can continue to grow in faith in Him.  Sometimes that means moving, like in my case.  Sometimes that means letting go of a favorite hobby, food, or especially a sin without which we are sure we cannot live.  Maybe it means being open to another child when we think we’ve had enough.  Of course, when it comes to a new life entering our lives, we want to pray about it, and use the gift of reason that God has given us as we discern God’s will.  But just because our will says one thing, does not mean that it is necessarily God’s will.

We are called to live by the Spirit, as St. Paul reminds us in the second reading.  And not just any spirit, but the Spirit of God.  Our fallen human nature sometimes says one thing while the Spirit of God says another.  We are always tempted to take our lives into our own hands and make all the decisions ourselves.  We still struggle with the same temptation that afflicted Adam and Eve: to put ourselves in the place of God and decide our future without any relation to God.  But by our baptism, we can know God’s will, and we can choose to make what may seem like an insane decision according to the wisdom of the world, but which is the best decision according to the wisdom of God.

The Lord calls us throughout our lives to put our trust in Him and to follow Him, even to places we didn’t expect to go.  Will we have the courage to be like Elisha and leave what we know behind in order to serve God where He leads us?

Don't Forget the Holy Spirit!

Sixth Sunday of Easter

No one likes to be ignored.  But if there’s one Person of the Blessed Trinity that we often ignore, it’s the Holy Spirit.  We tend to always remember the Father in our prayers, especially the Our Father, or sometimes we’ll just refer to Him as God.  Jesus, as the one who took flesh and was our means of being reconnected to the Father is usually at the front of our minds as well.  But the Holy Spirit tends to get left out.  How many prayers do we being with some form of: Dear Holy Spirit…?  Probably not many, if any, while we are very comfortable with beginning prayers with: Dear God… or Heavenly Father… or Lord Jesus.  

It’s important, then, that in these last few Sundays of our Easter Season, the Church really focuses in on the Holy Spirit.  Of course, every Mass we begin with the Holy Spirit, and He’s mentioned in the Gloria, and our opening prayers always say “in the unity of the Holy Spirit.”  But the readings in these weeks also remind us that the Holy Spirit is God and guides the Church in a special way since the Ascension of Jesus.

Our first reading reminds us of the role of the Holy Spirit in guiding what we are to believe as Catholics and how we are to live as Catholics.  Having discussed whether or not the Gentiles (the non-Jews) had to be circumcised and follow Judaic laws, and with the testimony of St. Peter, St. James sends a message to the Jews who had become Christians about what is required for Gentiles to become Christians.  And he writes specifically, that it was “‘“the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us not to place on you any burden beyond these necessities, namely, to abstain from meat sacrificed to idols, from blood, from meats of strangled animals, and from unlawful marriage.”’”  It was not simply a group of old men getting together and thinking of the most pragmatic thing to do.  It was the Holy Spirit, the love shared between the Father and the Son, who guided the apostles to decide that Gentiles did not have to become Jewish and follow those laws to become Christians.  In other words, every time you eat a cheese burger or bacon (which Jews cannot do because it’s contrary to kosher laws), you should thank the Holy Spirit.

But the Holy Spirit did not stop guiding the Church with this decision.  Throughout the 2,000 year history of the Church, the Holy Spirit has continued to guide the successor of St. Peter, the Pope, and the successors of the apostles, the bishops, in making decisions about what we are to believe and how we are to live.  Some of those teachings are crystallized in the Creed.  But also in all the 21 Ecumenical Councils, from Nicaea I in AD 325 to Vatican II in the 1960s, and even in Papal pronouncements in between, the Holy Spirit has continued to teach the Church everything and remind the Church of what Jesus told us.  He has guided us on how many books to have in the Bible; who Jesus is; how many Sacraments were instituted by Jesus; Mary’s Immaculate Conception and Assumption; that only men can be ordained priests; that marriage is between one man and one woman for life; all these are part of Jesus’ words, which the Holy Spirit has helped us to understand and which the Holy Spirit has guided the Pope and the bishops to proclaim as being what is necessary to be believed if we wish to truly call ourselves Catholic.  The Holy Spirit and the successors of the apostles, the foundation of the heavenly Jerusalem, work together to continue Jesus’ teachings into new times and new cultures.

But the work of the Holy Spirit is not limited to the Pope and bishops.  The Holy Spirit wants to give us life.  He helps us to understand what is right and wrong in our conscience.  We receive the Holy Spirit in baptism, and a new gift in the Sacrament of Confirmation, to help us as individuals know what is God’s will in our daily actions and in the major decisions of life: what vocation we should choose, how to use our gifts and talents in a job, how to educate and raise our family.  Of course, the Holy Spirit would never contradict Himself, and we as individuals do not have the gift of infallibility, as the bishops in union with the Pope, and even the Pope by himself on matters of faith and morals has.  So if our conscience is ever telling us to do something that is contrary to what the Church officially teaches as to what we need to believe or how we need to live, we should do some major research on what the Church teaches and why, because it is more likely to be right than what we think our conscience is saying.  But the Holy Spirit is in us, too, and wants to make our living of the Gospel a joy-filled experience.  The Holy Spirit wants to give us the power to say yes to God and no to our fallen nature and to evil.  And by virtue of our Baptism, all we need to do is ask the Holy Spirit to strengthen us.  

It may not come as naturally, but may we also pray to the Holy Spirit, especially when we are making choices.  We can pray in our own words, in conversation with the Holy Spirit, or we can also use that wonderful prayer to the Holy Spirit that we said as a Diocese a few years ago, and which I will lead today.  Please join in if you remember: Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faith, and enkindle in them the fire of your love.  Send forth your spirit, and they shall be created, and you shall renew the face of the earth.  O God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit, did instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that, by the same Holy Spirit, we may be truly wise and ever enjoy His consolations.  Through Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Throw Your Life Away!!

Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            As a seminarian, it was not uncommon to hear people talk about certain seminarians, and say, “Why is so-and-so throwing his life away?  He has such great potential!”  Bishop Mengeling, when we were on retreat as seminarians, would sometimes use that phrase to remind us of what we were doing with a twist, that we were truly throwing our life away for the Lord, just as a married couple throws their life away for each other.

            We often don’t think of throwing our life away as a positive thing.  That’s not the phrase we use to celebrate big events like an ordination, or a wedding (though the phrase may be tossed around at bachelor or bachelorette parties, or by heartbroken girls who would rather have a seminarian as the father of their children instead of being a spiritual father).    It generally has a negative connotation, as if we are wasting some sort of potential.  And yet, in our Gospel, the Lord is very clear: “‘whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it.’”  It is as if Jesus is saying, “If you try not to throw away your life, you will, but if you throw away your life for me, you will truly preserve it.”

            When a man and woman pledge themselves to each other as husband and wife; or when a man is called to be a priest and responds to that call; or when a man or a woman respond to the call to be consecrated for the sake of the Kingdom; all those people are throwing away their lives.  The married couple is promising to stop looking for someone better with whom to share their entire life and with whom to have children.  The priest is promising to devote his life first and foremost to God, so that he can serve His people.  The consecrated man or woman is promising to devote him or herself to Christ and be a witness of what life will be like in the Kingdom of Heaven, especially through witnessing the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience in imitation of Jesus who was chaste, poor, and obedient. 

They are throwing away other opportunities that could have come up in their life in the future.  The husbands are throwing away the possibility that they will meet another woman, and the wives are throwing away the possibility that they will meet another man, who will be a suitable partner, a lifelong companion, and the person with whom they want to share physical intimacy and raise children.  The priest is throwing away the possibility of marriage and having biological children of his own so that he can have deep intimacy with Christ and be the caretaker of His bride, the Church.  The consecrated man or woman is throwing away the possibility of being a father or a mother, and, in the case of men and women religious, is throwing away the accumulation of wealth and the ability to direct their lives how they want, and when they want, and where they want.

And yet, as proof of what Jesus says (in case we don’t take Him at His word), the happiest people I have met are those who have thrown away their lives and not looked back.  I see it in couples that have been married, for example, for 50 years, who have spent a lifetime together, struggling to make ends meet, to raise children, to live out their faith, and while things haven’t always been easy, they always, without fail, say to me that they would do the same all over again if they had the chance.  I see it in the consecrated men and women, like Judith Stegman, a consecrated virgin, or Sr. Dorothy, our Director of Campus Ministry, or Sr. Liz, our Director of Senior Ministry, in the joy that they have found in consecrating their lives to Christ.  And I also see the overwhelming majority of my brother priests, who, though they have left all to follow Christ and serve His people, are already receiving 100-fold for what they have left behind.

What concerns me a little is that our culture does not encourage us to throw everything away for marriage, or consecrated life, or priesthood.  Whether it’s middle or high school students, or the college students at MSU, or even adults, so many are afraid to make any commitment, just in case there’s something better around the corner.  As a culture, we are afraid of commitment because it means that we may have to give up the future goods that we think we might possibly get by holding out.  Even in marriage, there is a general societal view that, if things don’t work out, you can always break it off in case you find something or someone better.  We see it especially in couples living together while dating or engaged, pretending to live a married life with each other under the same roof, in the same bed, but free to call it off in case something better comes along.  Only in marriage is that decision to throw it all away for the other protected, because both spouses commit to that marital love for the entire duration of their lives.  And sadly, Jesus’ words ring true that those who try to save it all, end up losing it.  Some studies state that 67%, or 2 out of 3 couples that live together before marriage, end up divorcing, and that it’s often in the first decade of their marriage. 

Is throwing it all away easy?  Certainly not.  There are times when a couple, or a consecrated man or woman, or a priest, feels the weight of the cross.  There are times when disciples have to experience people who metaphorically beat their back, or pluck their beard, or spit on their face.  But, when we throw it away, with God’s help, when we lose our life for the Son of Man and the gospel, then we can say with the prophet Isaiah from our first reading, “The Lord God is my help, therefore I am not disgraced; I have set my face like flint, knowing that I shall not be put to shame…See, the Lord God is my help.”  When we lose our life for the sake of Jesus and the Gospel, it is then that we, in fact, find it, and save it for eternal life.