Working Out With God

Passion Sunday

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Two Thursdays ago I met up with Sgt. Anthony Dent to work out with him and some other Troopers and Cadets of the Michigan State Police.  Anthony likes to push me when we work out, and I think one of his proudest moments working out with me is when his workout made me throw-up.  This particular workout was in the cross-fit style, and had us paired up, going against other pairs of Troopers and Cadets.  For the workout, each pair would share the following exercises in this order, not moving on to the next exercise until the previous was completed: 100 burpees; 100 calorie row; 100 barbell thrusters; 100 ab-mat sit-ups; 100 push presses; 100 box jumps; 1-mile run with a 14-pound medicine ball.  The first set was a challenge.  The second set started to kick my butt.  The third set and following got much harder, until I couldn’t even do the box-jumps, but had to substitute 2 box step-ups for every 1 box jump.  As each set progressed, Anthony did a greater percentage of the exercise.  I even had another sergeant help me with the box step-ups, because I was very gassed.
    When it comes to salvation, we might feel like we just have to muscle through and do it ourselves.  God gives us the rules (the workout), and we have to do it in order to get to heaven (rest).  While I’m loathe to compare Anthony to God, because he already has a very-healthy sense of self-worth, what we often find is that the harder we try to keep up, the more we fall behind.  We give it our all, but get more and more tired, until we are exhausted and don’t feel like we can do anything else.  And, unlike working out with others, you can’t have someone else do the exercise for you.
    So today’s first reading provides a great reminder for us: Christ already saved us!  His sacrifice, not ours, however good they may be, won reconciliation for us and the Father.  Before Christ, we tried all sorts of things to be saved: living according to the law, offering different sacrifices that God Himself had told us to make.  But that old covenant, written in stone, could not bring us into right relationship with God.  As the Apostle says elsewhere, it was only a tutor for us, to know how wrong our passions led us astray.  The new covenant, sealed in the Precious Blood of Christ, opened for us our eternal inheritance of heaven.  
    But so often, we try to do it all ourselves.  We live as if our entrance into the heavenly Temple depends only on us and our moral rectitude.  But if we live that way, we become more and more tired, are able to do less and less, and end up in failure.
    So, does that mean we can say that we simply believe in the Lord, confess that the Savior died for our sins, get baptized, and then never worry about going anywhere other than heaven?  While that is what some of our Protestant brothers and sisters seem to espouse, that is the other extreme, which we also need to avoid.  Rather, virtue lies in the middle between trying to earn our salvation (which we cannot do) and presuming our salvation (which we should not do).  Our response is to put faith in what God has done (which we could never do) while also working out our salvation with fear and trembling, to paraphrase St. Paul.
    Our good actions find their goodness inasmuch as they are connected to Christ.  By themselves, they do no more than the blood of goats or calves.  But if we unite to the cross our daily efforts to live in according with the covenant written in our hearts, prophesied by Jeremiah and fulfilled by Christ, then we will get somewhere.  We will advance in holiness because our efforts are now connecting to the “effort” that truly made a difference, the sacrifice of the unblemished Lamb of God.  To go back to my cross-fit analogy, it’s as if God has already done the entire workout and won us the prize.  But He wants us to engage in it because it will help us become more like Him.  Still, He knows we cannot do it all on our own, so He’s right there, by our side, picking up our slack, doing what we can’t, and encouraging us to do more than we think is possible, because all things are possible with Him.
    That is the day that Abraham saw from afar and in which he rejoiced.  Abraham longed for the day when God would close the gap that we had created by our disobedience.  He looked forward to a time when he would not simply have to act by faith, and presume his own efforts would be enough.  He rejoiced in God accomplishing what no mere human could: defeating sin and death and opening up eternal salvation.  And Abraham’s faith was not disappointed.
    So, by all means, in these last two weeks of Lent, may we not slack off on our Lenten disciplines and penances.  Work hard to put to death all within us that is not of God.  But do so knowing that God has already saved us; salvation doesn’t depend on us.  But God does want us to cooperate with Him in the work of salvation, complete the race, and enjoy the prize of eternal rest with the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Chosen

Resumed 6th Sunday after Epiphany
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  In the epistle today, St. Paul talks about being chosen.  Some translations use the word elect.  In any case, the meaning is the same: God has selected us.  And for what or to what end has He selected us?  For salvation.  But we need to avoid the Calvinist position of double predestination, that God has chosen who will be saved and who will be damned.  Instead, with St. Augustine of Hippo, we say that God saves us with our cooperation, though He knows from all eternity who will accept the grace of God and cooperate with Him.
    What a great mystery!  God relies on us, in a limited sense, to save us.  Of course, the means of salvation is the sacrifice of Christ, which is re-presented for us in an unbloody manner on this altar.  Still, we can choose whether or not to accept the salvation that comes from that once-for-all sacrifice, not just at the time of our baptism, but throughout our life, and, indeed, each day!  
    One of my favorite authors, Romano Guardini, wrote about this in his great work, The Lord.  While meditating on John’s account of the High Priestly Prayer at the Last Supper, Guardini writes:
 

[The Apostles] are his.  Jesus has taught them his message and the name of his Father.  He has lost none of them but the son of perdition.  Not even the implacable passages of the Epistle to the Romans speak with such harshness of the law of grace and the inviolate sovereignty of that divine will which chooses as it pleases, giving those it has selected to the Son–leaving the others so far behind that the Son does not even pray for them.  We should hear these words often, and God grant us the fear without which we shall never enjoy salvation!  The more deeply we understand them, the more unconditionally we should fling ourselves on God’s mercy.  Autonomous, he [God] can choose whom he will; there is no such thing as a “right” to be chosen, but nothing on earth should hinder me from pleading: Lord, let me be among your chosen, and my loved ones, and all mankind!  Do not add: for I have done no real wrong.  If you are tempted to, fear for your chances.  Before this tremendous mystery it matters little whether or not you have done your duty, whether you are noble or base, possess this or that intrinsically important quality.  Everyone should do what he can; every value retains its value; but in the face of this overwhelming mystery, such things are no longer decisive.  You must know only this, but as profoundly as possible: that you are a sinner and lost.  In this knowledge fling yourself on God’s heart and say: Lord, will that I be chosen; that I am among those given to your Son never to be lost–my loved ones and I and all mankind!

It was a long quote, but worth the reading, as he captures both God’s divine will and our participation.
    As Catholics, we can say that we are chosen.  But not with arrogance or as laurels upon which to rest.  Because, as Christ said in the Gospel of John, we did choose Him, but He chose us.  In one sense, we might say that because many of our parents had us baptized.  But even for those who, as young adults or adults chose to become Catholic, that choice was only possible because God gave us the grace to accept Him.  Being Catholic cannot simply be a matter of the will.  It is an openness to God’s grace which He begins in us.  
    And why did Christ choose us?  John continues relating what our Savior said, telling us that those who are chosen are selected to go and bear fruit that will remain.  We aren’t chosen for our own sake, or because we are the wisest, strongest, most attractive, or those with the best genes.  We are chosen so that the world can be converted to Christ, so that humanity can be what God wanted it to be in the Garden of Eden, and, even better, what Christ died so that humanity could be.  Our election in Christ is not so much as badge, as a catalyst that stirs us to evangelical action.  
    And, as Guardini noted, everyone should do what he can.  True, the Apostles didn’t really get this at first, but once they had been filled with the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, they realized that importance of sharing what Christ had done for them.  They received the courage from the Holy Spirit to share with others, often in simple ways, but sometimes in very profound ways, that life in Christ changes everything, and that one can find the happiness for which he was made, perhaps not on this earth, but after death in heaven.  
    And while we do not earn our salvation, St. Paul urges us in his epistle to the Philippians to work out our salvation with fear and trembling.  Why would we do that?  Only if we are not sure if we will be chosen in the end.  When we recognize that we are sinners and lost, then we seek to do what we can to show God that we should be chosen, not because we can merit it, but showing that we know we need saving, and that we are open to the salvation God wants for us.  

Msgr. Romano Guardini

    Guardini also reminds us that we should pray that we might be part of the chosen.  That prayer helps keep our election as not something that we take for granted, but something we seek each day.  This prayer to be chosen throws us on God’s mercy, which is the only way we can be chosen.  And it reminds us that being chosen means bearing fruit, and not being like the fig tree that was cursed because it would not bear fruit for the Lord.  
    Our election in Christ is a reason to give thanks.  But it is also an impulse to spread the Gospel.  Our election is made at baptism, but it is a gift that we can accept or reject each day.  Lord, will that we be chosen; that we be among those given to your Son never to be lost–my loved ones and I and all mankind!  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Two Approaches

Fourth Sunday of Lent
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Sometimes we have Scripture passages that we really like, that “hit us in the feels” or that motivate us to follow Christ more deeply.  Other times there are Scripture passages with which we struggle, which seem harder to digest.  And perhaps St. Paul’s epistle today is one of the latter.  

    St. Paul tells us today about the two covenants: that of Sinai (the law) and that of Christ (freedom in Him).  And St. Paul seems to suggest that we should get rid of the law because it connects us to slavery, where as the covenant in the Blood of Christ gives us the true freedom of the heavenly Jerusalem.  But how can we square this with the fact that we are still supposed to follow the Ten Commandments?  Certainly, we don’t have to follow all of the dietary and ritual laws of Judaism, and every time we eat bacon we can thank God for that.  But what does St. Paul mean?  Especially when we consider that Christ Himself said, “Do not think I have come to abolish the law and the prophets.  I have come, not to abolish, but to fulfill.”  
    What the Apostle speaks of today is how God saves us.  And this was and is a rather big point in how we view salvation, which still challenges us today.  Both in the Epistle to the Galatians and in the Epistle to the Romans, St. Paul outlines how the law doesn’t save, but existed as a tutor to help us grow in holiness.  It didn’t gain for us salvation.  And the Apostle to the Gentiles shares how no one, once God gave the law, ever lived up to all its 613 precepts perfectly.  
    Christ came and gave us a new law, one that built upon the old law, but surpassed it, as much as light surpasses shadow and reality surpasses sign.  Christ fulfilled the law perfectly, and even took upon Himself the punishment or curse due to those who did not follow the law, as the law says, “Cursed be he who hangs on a tree,” and Christ allowed Himself to be hung on the tree of the cross so that He could take away the curse from us and grant us everlasting life.  This new law is seen especially in Matthew, chapter five, as Christ, the New Moses, gives us the Beatitudes and reinterprets the law to go beyond simply “Thou shalt not,” and move into the positive area of blessings and fulness of life.  These are the teachings, “You have heard it said…but I say to you…”.  The fulfillment of the law that Christ talks about is, from the point of action, much more difficult, as it’s easier to not murder someone than it is not to hold anger in the heart, or not to have sex with someone other than your spouse than it is to avoid even lustful glances at others.  
    But, going deeper, the dichotomy that St. Paul points out between the covenant of Sinai and the covenant of Calvary points to a more profound difference: do we save ourselves or is salvation a gift?  If the law saves, then salvation is something that I achieve for myself.  I may ask God for help; I may lean on others to support me in following each commandment, but I am the main actor in my salvation.  On the other hand, if Christ saves me, then I have a part to play in my salvation, but it is a supporting role, not the lead in the movie.  And if Christ saves me, then if I mess up, it doesn’t mean salvation is lost to me necessarily.  It simply means that I have temporarily interrupted salvation.  But if I save myself and I do not fulfill the requirements of the law, then there is no hope for me; I have spent my chance for redemption and have nothing but despair for my eternal future.
    This is the good news of salvation: salvation doesn’t depend on me!  And, at least as far as I, personally, am concerned, that’s great news!  Because I don’t always do the good I intend, and I sometimes do the bad I do not intend to do.  The freedom comes from knowing that I am not my own savior, so I don’t have to act as if everything depends on me.  Because it doesn’t.  If everything depends on me, then I am in slavery, striving with all of who I am to follow a law that I am bound to break at one time or another.  
    So, the Law does not save.  Christ saves.  And thanks be to God for that.  But does that mean that I can forget the Ten Commandments?  Does that mean that my choices don’t matter?  Of course not.  Again, the new law of freedom means we act in a certain way that goes even beyond the old law.  Christ has won for us salvation, so that we don’t have to earn it (because we can’t earn it).  But in order to receive that gift of salvation, we still have to follow Christ and conform ourselves to Him.  Because really, being in heaven is a matter of being united to Christ.  If we are united to Christ, then heaven is the logical destination for us because Christ is already there and we are joined to Christ.  But, if we sever ourselves from Christ by doing things that are contradictory to who Christ is, then we cannot hope to be in heaven because Christ is in heaven and we have separated ourselves from Him.
    So we still do our best to avoid: having other false gods; taking God’s name in vain; working on the sabbath (the Lord’s Day, now, rather than Saturday); disobeying our parents; murdering others; committing adultery; stealing; lying; and coveting our neighbor’s spouse or goods.  And we even go beyond that.  We ask God to help us avoid: even other swear words, wrath, lustful thoughts; to be content with what we have, mean what we say, and not give in to envy.  But we do so as our response to what God has done for us, not trying to earn His love or eternal salvation.  While we can still reject salvation, our salvation is not up to us, in the end; Christ has already accomplished it for us.  We merely need to show that we want it (which sometimes is a bit of challenge because of our fallen nature).  But God also gives us the Eucharist, the true Flesh and Blood of our Risen Lord, to help conform us to Christ and to strengthen us so that we can choose salvation and reject damnation.  May our worthy reception of the Body and Blood of Christ today and each time we go to Mass help us to choose the freedom that is ours in Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Are You Saved?

First Sunday of Lent
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  Are you saved?  This is a question that we can get from some of our Protestant brothers and sisters when we encounter them.  Or we might hear them talking about how they were saved on a particular date or at a particular age.  A week ago yesterday I attended the funeral of the mother of the Flint Post Administrator for the Michigan State Police.  She was baptist, and the preacher asked that very question to us, and talked about how Nadine was saved at a particular age when she accepted Jesus as her Lord and Savior.
    We as Catholics don’t use that language.  And so when we’re asked, perhaps we don’t know how to answer.  But as we begin Lent, it’s a good thing to explore.  St. Peter in his first letter [today] talks about being saved by baptism, which was prefigured by Noah being saved in the ark from the great Flood.  In terms of baptism, we can point to a day in which we were saved from original sin and became a child of God in the Son of God and, therefore, a member of the Church.  Baptism is a one-time event because it forever claims us for God and washes away, not only original sin, but any other sins that we have committed up to that point (if we’re not baptized as an infant, who wouldn’t have any personal sins that would need to be wiped away).  When it comes to baptism, we can rightly say that we were saved on that day.
    However, baptism isn’t only about a day.  Baptism begins a life of following Christ.  It’s not as if that one day means that we never have to worry about salvation after that.  Even though original sin is washed away, we still retain concupiscence, a desire for lesser goods.  While many Christians reject the idea of concupiscence after baptism, it seems quite obvious from human existence.  We probably can’t count the number of times even in just one day that we are tempted to do things that we know we shouldn’t do.  It doesn’t mean we have to give in to those temptations.  Through baptism, we have all the graces we need to avoid all mortal sins throughout our life.  But we still want what we shouldn’t want, as St. Paul himself describes.  Adam and Eve, who had no sin at first, were still tempted to reject God, and their choice to reject God affected all of us.  And Satan even tempted our Lord in the desert, as the Gospel for the First Sunday of Lent describes.  Our Lord had no sin whatsoever, and yet, due to His human nature, Satan thought he could get Christ to give in to lesser goods, just as Satan had tempted our first parents. 
    So, in this sense, we can say that we are being saved, in as much as we are choosing each day, more or less, to follow Christ.  To the extent that we follow Him, we are participating more in the salvation that God first offered to us in Holy Baptism.  To the extent that we choose lesser goods, things that we shouldn’t do, we are participating less in the salvation that God first offered us in Holy Baptism.
    And that leads to the last aspect of salvation for us as Catholics: we hope to be saved.  Life is our time of accepting or rejecting God and the promises of Holy Baptism to live as a disciple.  Each day we move closer to or farther away from eternal life in heaven.  There is no staying put or coasting.  But at some point, we will have cemented our decision because we won’t have any more decisions to make because we’re dead.  At that point, our life will witness to whether or not we accepted the salvation that God offered us in Holy Baptism and we will receive our eternal reward in Heaven (or the time preparing for Heaven in Purgatory) or our enteral punishment in Hell.  Once we die, there are no more second chances.  And so we hope that the decisions we make throughout our life show that we have accepted the salvation that Christ won for us by His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.  Only then will we know for sure if we are saved, though we have hope, because of baptism and because of being in a state of grace, that is, without mortal sin, at the time of our death. 

Powers Catholic Varsity Hockey Team

    While all analogies limp, think of it like being a hockey player.  When you first were able to skate on your own and hold a stick, you were, in a very beginning sense, a hockey player.  Sure, you didn’t have the ability to skate all that well, or the power from your muscles to push the puck far, but you were at the beginning.  Later, you developed more skills, and grew in your ability as a hockey player.  You also had times where you could decide to follow your desire to be a hockey player, or you could have chosen something else to do and abandon hockey.  Even for those of you who won the State Championship last year, you would each probably acknowledge ways that you can still grow as a hockey player.  Maybe we could, using this analogy, say that making to the NHL means that you are truly a hockey player, something some of you may hope to achieve someday.  So you were a hockey player when you just started out; you are still working on being a hockey player now; and you hope to truly be a hockey player in the NHL someday. 
    But for all of us, hockey players and non-hockey players alike, our goal is to continue to accept the gift of salvation that God offers us each day.  And our Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are meant to train us in a special way during this time of year to be able to choose the higher goods of following God’s will, and say no to the lesser goods of following only our will.  May those things that we have given up and the extra things we’re doing during Lent; may the extra prayers we say as we talk more and listen more to God; and may the generosity that we show to those in need during our Lenten season continue us on the path of salvation that God has set out for us [the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen].

Doing It On Our Own?

 Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    A year or so I bought a grill for a young couple with whom I am friends who had expressed some interest in getting a combination grill/smoker.  I did some shopping, found what I wanted at a Lowe's in Brighton, and bought the grill.  When it came time to load it into my Jeep, I realized it was going to be a bit of a struggle, as it was much heavier than I expected.  Luckily, an off-duty State Trooper I know just happened to be coming into the Lowe's when I about ready to load it in, so he was able to help me.  This should have been my first clue that putting this grill together was going to require more than one person, given that even simply loading it into my vehicle required two of us.
    I got home, and, when I had a day off, I decided I was going to put it together.  I quickly learned that it was meant to be a two- to three-person job, because some of the parts were supposed to be held as bolts were tightened.  But, stubborn as I am, I found a way, somehow, to put it together.  With the help of another friend, I delivered it, only to notice that some of the screws I had tightened were a bit loose, due, no doubt, to the fact that I tried to assemble the grill/smoker myself.
    When it comes to salvation, we might take the same approach: I can do it myself.  And maybe even today’s Gospel seems to back us up.  After all, Jesus says, “‘Which of you wishing to construct a tower doe snot first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion?’”  In other words, we may interpret Jesus to be saying, “Do you have enough to follow me?”  
    But, the fact is, we cannot follow Jesus without Jesus.  That may seem quite obvious when stated that way.  But how many times do we attempt to be our own savior, only to get frustrated when it doesn’t work?  We figure that we simply have to muscle through being a disciple, and then God will be pleased with us and we’ll go to heaven.  When we meet failure (as we most certainly will at some point), it then forces a decision: do we try to muscle through even harder (we failed because we weren’t trying hard enough)?  Or do we just give up because following Jesus is too hard?
    Of course, the better option is to allow Jesus to work within us, rather than trying to save ourselves.  If humanity could save itself, then Jesus and the Incarnation is altogether unnecessary.  If humanity could save itself, then certainly Abraham, or Moses, or David, or one of the prophets would have figured it out.  But, of course, they didn’t.  Not one of the patriarchs, kings, or prophets, no matter how good they attempted to be, could save themselves and follow God perfectly.  They all needed help from above.
    And we cannot follow Jesus without Him.  In fact, He does most of the work, and our job is to cooperate with that work and not get in the way.  When we do fail, it’s usually because we have gotten in the way.  “But Fr. Anthony,” you may say, “Jesus today said that if we do not carry our own cross and follow Him, we cannot be His disciple.”  That is what Jesus said.  But we are not meant to carry our cross by ourselves.  Jesus Himself received the assistance, albeit coerced by the Romans, of Simon of Cyrene to carry the Cross that brought us salvation.  So if even the Master receives assistance in carrying His literal cross, then why do we think that we can do it without any assistance?
    Trying to be our own savior and carrying our cross without Jesus can look very similar to someone who is allowing Jesus to be the savior and allowing Jesus to help carry our cross.  From the externals, it may be exactly the same: we pray, we make time for God, we talk to others about Jesus, we do works of charity for others, etc.  But what is different is the interior disposition.  The person who wants to save him or herself; the person who decides to carry the cross on his or her own, prays, but only because it is required.  That person makes time for God, but only out of fear that if we don’t give God some minimal amount of time, then He won’t let us into heaven.  That person talks about God, but only to increase the size of the parish by adding another member or two.  That person gives money to the poor or to organizations because it’s a nice tax write-off, or he or she likes seeing the name in a donor list.
    On the other hand, the person who allows Jesus to be the savior and help carry our cross prays because it is a chance to spend time with the Beloved, who wants to hear what is going on in our life, and wants to communicate a path forward.  That person makes time for God because that is the number one priority, and the other priorities fall into place after Him.  That person speaks to others about Jesus as a friend or spouse talks about their beloved, and wants others to know that same joy and love.  That person sees Jesus in the poor and the suffering and so does what he or she can to alleviate that suffering in the least of the brothers and sisters of Jesus.  The acts might be the same, but the motivation is totally different.
    You cannot save yourself.  You cannot carry your cross alone.  You cannot earn heaven by anything you could ever do, even in a million years.  Allow Christ to be your Savior.  Let Him work in you, and cooperate with that work, not trying to earn the love of God, but responding to it.  When we do respond to God’s love because of the love He has first shown us, then we will be the disciples that God calls us to be.

Simple and Complex

 Feast of the Most Holy Trinity
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  How is it that the most fundamental part of our religion, the teaching that defines us as a faith–our belief in the Most Holy Trinity, one God and three divine Persons–is so hard to explain?  We often think of what is most basic as what is the simplest.  But, when it comes to our faith, that’s not quite right.
    Followers of Christ have struggled with this teaching from early on.  The heretic Arius, in order to uphold the oneness of God, held that Jesus was not really God.  Another heresy, pneumatomachianism, taught that the Holy Spirit was not really God.  Others failed when trying to explain the Most Holy Trinity, by saying that the different Persons were simply different phases of the one God, like water can be a solid, liquid or gas (that was the heresy of modalism).  Or another failure was that God was like the sun, where God the Father is like the sun itself, and Jesus is the the light, and the Holy Spirit is the heat (another version of Arianism).  Or there’s the heresy of partialism, which taught that the three divine Persons are each parts of the one Godhead.  Or (and I don’t know the name for this) the very vogue teaching that we can change the names of the Persons to be less restrictive (as in God the Creator, God the Redeemer, and God the Sanctifier).  All of those are really intriguing ways that we have gotten the teaching of the Most Holy Trinity wrong.  
    So what we do believe?  We believe in one God, who is also three divine Persons–Father, Son, and Holy Spirit–co-equal in glory, majesty, and power, yet not three gods, but One.  The Father is not the Son, nor is the Son the Holy Spirit, nor is the Holy Spirit the Father, and yet the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit are all one God.

    We struggle because we are finite–limited, while God is infinite–unlimited.  So we rely on what our infinite God has revealed to our finite minds.  We need the Holy Spirit, whom we celebrated last week and whom we celebrate this week.  And we stick to what the Holy Spirit has revealed, because the Most Holy Trinity is the foundation for all life, but especially for our life, and even more than that, for our salvation.  If we get who the Trinity is wrong, we get who we are wrong, and we mess-up our connection to salvation.  Recently, a handful of priests have been discovered to have done great damage by changing the way babies are baptized (most often, changing the words).  While some question why this matters, the Church asserts that words do matter, and if baptism is the beginning of our saving relationship with God (which it is), then if we get the beginning wrong, the rest of it cannot follow.  
    But The Trinity is not just the beginning.  It should be our day-to-day connection as well.  Our spiritual life should be connected to all three divine Persons if we are to live in the fulness of grace that God desires for us.  We often say “God” when we mean God the Father, and He is often the one to whom we address our prayers.  But we should also pray to and through Christ, because He is consubstantial with the Father.  And we should not forget to turn in prayer to the Holy Spirit, “the Lord and Giver of life,…who with the Father and the Son is adored and glorified.”  Our prayers at Mass often highlight this, as we most often pray to the Father, “Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.”  
    How do we guide our life by the Trinity?  One easy way is to read the revelation of the Trinity in the Sacred Scriptures.  How has God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, spoken to us in an inerrant way through the Bible?  What moral laws has God revealed that help us to be the best person that we can be?  Whether it’s the Ten Commandments, the Sermon on the Mount and what Christ taught in the Gospels, or the teachings of St. Paul in the New Testament about not being greedy, or making false gods for ourselves, or being sexually immoral, those are great guidelines to know whether or not we are living in the reality that the Trinity intends.
    Another way to live our life by the Trinity is by love.  St. John wrote in his epistle that God is love, and the applies to each divine Person.  God the Father is love, God the Son is love, and God the Holy Spirit is love.  If we are to live in the best way possible, we are called to love others.  And that love, as the Trinity shows us, is always about sacrificing for the other, and leading the other into truth.  Our Lord sacrificed Himself so that we could go to heaven, in the full out-pouring of Himself in love.  And the Holy Spirit, our Lord taught, leads us into all truth, so that our love is not merely delight or affection, but is grounded in what is most real and the way that the Trinity created the world.  If we are living like a toddler, who loves as long as he gets what he wants, then that’s not the love of the Trinity, the love that will save us and make us truly happy.  If our expression of love is only about what feels good, rather than sacrificing, even when it’s quite painful, then that’s not the love of the Trinity, which would never do anything to endanger the other person.  
    In a way, the Trinity is as hard to describe as love is, even though the Trinity and love are foundational to life.  But because of the love of the Trinity, we get glimpses of who God is in Himself, which helps us to understand how He made us, and how we are called to live and what will make us truly happy.  When our love is off, when we try to redefine love, then we are not living the Trinitarian life.  And when our understanding of the Trinity is off, when we try to remake God in our own image, the way we act will not be truly loving.  Ground yourself in the life of the Trinity: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Death and Him that Conquered It

 Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    As we enter into Lent this Wednesday, we enter into a time of penance.  We begin our observance of Lent with the words, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  And throughout Lent we give things up in order to die to our will.  We fast, we abstain, and we enter into a time of making do with less.  Why?  Why all this negation?
    Our little sacrifices are meant to remind us of the one big sacrifice that Christ underwent for our salvation.  But do we really understand salvation?  Do we know from what we were saved?  Do we want to be saved daily?
    St. Paul talks about that which is corruptible and that which is mortal, and talks about death and sin.  This is something that we don’t talk about a lot in modern Catholicism, but it’s important.  Because if we don’t understand the sorry state we were and can be in, then we don’t appreciate the gift of incorruptibility, immortality, and victory that our Lord Jesus Christ won for us.
    We have certainly grown up in a society that says that everyone is basically good, and everything is basically alright.  That’s one view of the world, but it’s not the Catholic, Christian, or Jewish worldview.  Yes, God created all things good, as we heard in Genesis, but through Adam and Eve’s sin, everything in creation was corrupted.  Death entered the world, and not simply the death that signals the end of life, but eternal death, eternal separation from God.  
    And that was not simply for Adam and Eve, it was for everyone who came forth from them, that is, everyone.  We don’t enter into this world on the path to heaven; we enter this world on a path to hell, because we are separated from God.  We belong to sin, and sin means death, which is the opposite of God, who is Life.  All we can produce is bad fruit.  Even the best of us–Abraham, Moses, David, Isaiah–were all still bound in sin and could not enter into eternal life, no matter how good a life they lived.
    This is the victory that St. Paul was talking about for death.  Death claimed every person of the human race before the Incarnation.  It was as if everyone was in a prison, by humanity’s own making, and the warden was the devil.  So many came so close to getting out, only to be dragged back in.  

    But, the victory of Christ was the opening of the prison gates by one who died, but who was not under its penalty.  Christ knew no sin, and yet suffered the penalty of sin so that we would not have to.  He was able to transform the bad fruit into good fruit.  He freed us from sin and death.  And He did this by His Death and Resurrection.  And He imparts that Death and Resurrection to us through Baptism, and through all the Sacraments, especially the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Eucharist.  
    So without Baptism, without the Death and Resurrection of Christ applied for us and accepted by us, we are still in that prison; we are still subject to eternal death.  Without Christ, nothing we do is meritorious and helping us get to heaven.  With Christ, even the smallest sacrifices that we make help us to accept eternal salvation that Christ won for us.
    But while Baptism frees us from the prison, we can, by our decisions, freely walk back in.  We would consider it crazy for a prisoner who was just released from prison to walk right back and close the cell door on him or herself.  But that is what we do when we sin.  
    And so, as we get ready for Lent, we do those small sacrifices that show Christ that we are grateful, but we are also training ourselves not to turn back to sin.  The things that we give up, the extra penances and charitable works that we do are meant to help us be closer to Christ and keep us free with Him.  We give up stuff that reminds us of how bad prison is, so that when we go throughout our day we reject the path back into prison and accept the freedom that Christ wants for us.  
    So, as we prepare for the beginning of Lent on Wednesday, we are not preparing for a Catholic diet.  We are not preparing for a random, 40-day period where we give up stuff just because it’s what we’ve always done.  We are not preparing simply for a season.  We are preparing ourselves to continue in the freedom that we received in Baptism and that we receive in the Eucharist and through the other sacraments we have received.  We are preparing ourselves to recognize and resist the ways in which Satan seduces us to come back to his prison and be his slaves.  We are preparing ourselves to stay close to Christ and the victory He won, so that, in Christ, we can say, “Where, O death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting?”  And “thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ,” whom we will have the opportunity to worthily receive as we continue towards the climax of the Mass, the consecration and reception of the Eucharist. 

The Hard Way

 Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord–At the Vigil Mass

When I was a freshman in high school I had a science class.  I like science, in general, but I’m not good at science.  One of our final projects in the class was to make a car from a mousetrap and have it travel 3 feet or so.  We could use anything we wanted to, as long it didn’t include a motor.  All we were given were the mousetrap and four plastic wheels.  I had seen someone else use CDs for wheels, and though that was a good idea.  Besides, what else would I do with all those AOL CDs that we got in the mail each month?  Try as I might, I could not get it to go forward.  I was left with simply pulling the arm of the trap back, and quickly releasing, trying to get enough forward momentum from my arm releasing it quickly.  It didn’t work.  When it came time for us to demonstrate what we had done, I watched my classmates and saw their cars.  They used strings or rubber bands attached to the arm of the trap, which were connected to the axels of the wheels, which, when the arm was released, propelled the mousetrap car forward.  It seemed so obvious, and yet it hadn’t occurred to me at all.  I certainly hadn’t found the easiest way to do things.  In fact, I have a special gift for often missing the easiest way, and finding the hardest way to do something.
    It may seem like God also chooses to do things the most difficult way.  St. Paul gives the basics of the Gospel as he is preaching in the synagogue in Antioch in Pisidia, which we heard in our second readings.  God chose a people, is where St. Paul starts.  The story would have been familiar to the Jews.  But in case it’s not as familiar to us, let’s make sure we know that the people God chose were not a strong nation, or the best warriors, or the smartest.  No, God chose a family, Abram and Sarai, who were very old, had no children, and lived in modern-day Iraq, and told them to go to the land of Canaan.  That family, starting with the miracle child, Isaac, slowly grows into a small household, who sell one of the brothers into slavery, and then they have to beg from that brother for food during a famine.  
    The family makes its way to Egypt, lives comfortably there for a while, before Pharaoh gets nervous about their fecundity, and enslaves them.  God sends them Moses to free them from slavery, but this people, this nation now, always seems to think life was better in Egypt as slaves as God tries to give them Canaan and freedom.  God promises them the land and peace as long as they follow Him, but they can’t do it for even one generation.  So they struggle with the surrounding nations, until they beg God for a king, even though God tells them they have a king: Him; they don’t need another.  But they whine some more, and God gives them what they want.  First comes Saul, who is pretty bad at following God, and then David, who is much better at following God, except when he’s murdering to cover-up his adulterous relationship.  Still, David is mostly for God, which is good, because he’s the last king like that.  
    The people, throughout the centuries, wander away from God, get in trouble, cry out to God, and then God saves them, only for the people to get comfortable again, and turn away from God.  Then God sends John the Baptist to prepare the way for the Messiah, Jesus.
    One would think that the Messiah, God’s own co-eternal Son, would have things easier.  Instead, His mother is almost divorced by His foster-father; He has to make numerous trips, first in the womb, then as an infant, then as a young boy.  Jesus’ foster-father, Joseph, dies before Jesus reaches the age of thirty, and then Jesus preaches God’s message, first welcomed with open arms, but eventually rejected by his followers, betrayed by one of his closest friends, and then dies on the cross, abandoned by almost everyone except His mother and few others.
    That’s not the easiest way.  As we celebrate Christmas, we celebrate that God took flesh, and so could feel the jostling in the womb on the road to Bethlehem; was cold as he was delivered in a cave, because no inns had room.  Jesus, the eternal God, could be hungry and thirsty, could stink from soiling his diapers, and could feel the emotional struggle of rejection as He grew up, similar to everyone else in appearance, but clearly very different from his neighborhood friends.  
    God didn’t choose the easiest way to save us; but He chose the best way.  He entered into our forsakenness, our desolation, so that He could change us into His Delight and His Espoused.  It was not clean and easy, but neither was humanity.  Whether it’s building mousetraps or trying to live as disciples of Jesus, we seem to choose the harder, not smarter, way.  But God loves us enough to enter into that messiness so that, by His grace, we can clean up.  
    What we celebrate at Christmas is that God didn’t take the easy way out.  He could have simply willed to save us, but instead He sent His only-begotten Son to become like us in all ways but sin.  He took on our messy history, the saints and the sinners, and made it His own history.  God became man, so that man could become God, to paraphrase St. Athanasius.  
    This Christmas is hard, no doubt about it.  But the Good News is that God is here, and He understands our challenges, our difficulties, probably better than we do ourselves.  But God is still working to save us, no matter how hard, how difficult.  And that love, that dedication to us and to our eternal happiness that humbled itself to become like us in all things but sin, is definitely worth celebrating, and is something that not even COVID-19 can take away.  O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!

It's Not What We Know, It's Who We Know

Fourth Sunday of Easter

We’ve probably all heard the saying, “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.”  I experienced that saying firsthand when I studied in Rome for 5 months as an undergraduate.  During  my time I met a monsignor who worked for the Roman Rota, the Supreme Court, as it were for the Catholic Church (though that analogy is not 100% accurate, as the pope is really the supreme judge).  He was also a chaplain for the local chapter of the Sovereign Military Order of the Knights of Malta, a chivalrous religious order that provides medical help in the name of the Church.  He  took me to different churches that I would have never known about, and certainly would not have been able to enter.  To be honest, it was pretty cool.

Msgr. (now-Bishop) Giuseppe Sciacca, me, and some of
my classmates from my semester in Rome

It may sound surprising, but when it comes to eternal salvation, it is also not what you know, but who you know.  No, not in the sense that if you’re best friends with this priest, or this religious sister, or this bishop, then you can do anything you want.  But it is true when it comes to Jesus.  Salvation is intimately connected with knowing who Jesus is, and having a relationship with Him.  We can know all sorts of facts about Jesus, we can even be able to repeat the Catechism word for word.  But that knowledge does not equate to salvation.  Even Satan knows about Jesus; in fact, Satan probably knows more about Jesus than we do.  But Satan does not know Jesus as it pertains to having friendship with Jesus.

Jesus Himself asserts that it’s all about knowing Him.  In today’s Gospel, Jesus speaks about Himself as the “gate for the sheep.”  He is the one by whom the sheep (that is, we) enter into the verdant pastures that Psalm 23 spoke of in today’s Responsorial Psalm.  No one else is the gate: not Moses, not Mohammed, not Buddha, no one else.  If we wish to enter into heaven, we have to go through Jesus.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking: what about all the people who didn’t or don’t believe in Jesus, who don’t truly know Jesus?  We can talk about people who came before Jesus, who had no way of knowing about Him, and those who have come after Jesus, who maybe do or maybe don’t have access to knowing about Jesus.  What Scripture makes clear, both in today’s Gospel, as well as in Peter’s speech in another place in the Acts of the Apostles, is that there is no other name on earth by when people are saved other than the Most Holy Name of Jesus.  So anyone who is in heaven, and only God decides who is in heaven, is there only because of the one saving act of Jesus’ Death and Resurrection.  Jews are not saved by the Law of Moses (St. Paul makes that very clear); Muslims are not saved by following the Qur’an; Buddhists are not saved because they followed the path of enlightenment.  If they are in heaven, it is only through Jesus.

The Church also taught in Lumen gentium, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church of Vatican II, and I will quote the section: “Those also can attain to salvation who through no fault of their own do not know the Gospel of Christ or his Church, yet sincerely seek God and moved by grace, strive by their deeds to do his will as it is known to them through the dictates of conscience.”  So the Church teaches that is possible that those who are ignorant of Christ through no fault of their own, and who are seeking God and following, to the best of the ability, their conscience, that they be saved.  We don’t know if they’re saved, because the only way we know to receive the gift of salvation is to know Jesus and be in a relationship with Him, begun in Baptism.  But the key is that if any person is in heaven, they are only there because of Jesus.

This should be a catalyst for us not simply to know about Jesus, but to truly know Him.  It should move us to say, ‘Do I really know Jesus?’  Simply being baptized, or even receiving other sacraments, does not necessarily mean that we know Jesus.  We might know about Jesus, but do we know Him as well as we know our friends or our spouse?

It should also be a catalyst to tell others about Jesus.  Your co-worker’s salvation could depend on how well you help them to understand who Jesus is.  Your spouse’s salvation could depend on how well you have made the life of Jesus your own and live it in your marriage.  Your classmate or friend’s salvation could be aided by the fact that you help them to know Jesus and reflect that relational knowledge through what you say and do.  Is that easy?  No.  The cost of discipleship, of knowing Jesus, is very expensive.  But God is pulling for us and giving us what we need to know Jesus and to share that knowledge with others through His divine grace, which is given to us through the Sacraments.

This weekend our First Communicants will receive Jesus, the Gate to Heaven, in the Eucharist.  In this new way, they are receiving the help to have union with Jesus, to truly know Him, and not simply to know about Him.  They asked for His mercy on Saturday, which He readily grants to those who are sorry and who seek to make the life of Jesus their own in their own way.  And on Sunday, having been purified of the obstacles to His life, they then/now receive that life and love in Jesus’ Body and Blood.  What a beautiful gift for Jesus to spread the table of the Eucharist, the altar of life, before us as we gather in the house of the Lord, which anticipates the eternal temple of God, the heavenly Jerusalem, where God wants us to dwell for years to come!  And each week we are invited back to Mass, to get to know Jesus better, and then to make His life our own by the power of His grace.  

When it comes to eternal salvation, to being welcomed into heaven, it’s not what we know, it’s who we know.  Do we know the Good Shepherd, the One who is the Gate for the sheep, who came that we “might have life and have it more abundantly”?

How Can I Keep From Singing

Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord–Mass during the Day

“Fr. Anthony, you sing a lot.”  I have heard that phrase no small amount of times.  Some people like the chanting.  Others do not enjoy it.  Some have even accused me of chanting just to show off my voice.  Why do I sing?

St. Augustine says that singing is for those who are in love.  And I am in love…with my God, above all.  So I sing, I chant, to Him.  Think about your favorite love song for a second.  What would it be?  In your mind, hum a few bars of the song, or at least imagine that person singing it.  Now imagine that person simply saying it.  Very different, right?  One of my favorite love songs is “My Girl” by the Temptations.  Probably most of us know it.  We can hear the into…We can hear The Temptations singing it.  So imagine if it were simply stated: “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day/ When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May/ I guess you’d say/ What can make me feel this way?// My girl, my girl, my girl/ Talkin’ bout my girl/ My girl.”  Not quite the same, is it (and not just because it’s me reciting it!)?

I rarely preach on the Psalm, but today did you listen to it?  “Sing to the Lord a new song,” and “Sing joyfully to the Lord, all you lands; break into song; sing praise.” and “Sing praise to the Lord with the harp, with the harp and melodious song.  With trumpets and the sound of the horn sing joyfully before the King, the Lord.”  The Psalm itself is a song, and it’s encouraging us to sing!!  But why?

We sing today because we are (hopefully) overflowing with love because God has become man in Jesus.  Salvation has been announced, the Lord has restored Zion, He has comforted His people and redeemed Jerusalem.  In Christ, we see our salvation.  And we know the Gospel.  While the brightness of the day is slightly clouded by the crucifixion which we will recall in three short months, the crucifixion itself is enlightened by the Resurrection.  

We sing today because we are (hopefully) overflowing with love because while “In times past, God spoke in partial and various ways to our ancestors through the prophets; in these last days, he has spoken to us through the Son.”  Jesus is the fulfillment of the entire Old Testament, and makes clear in Himself what God wants us to know and how God wants us to live.  Jesus, the refulgence (there’s your million dollar word for the day) of the glory of God the Father, “the very imprint of his being,” begins the way by which He purifies us from our sins.  We sing today because “A holy day has dawned upon us.  For today a great light has come upon the earth.”  

We sing today because we are (hopefully) overflowing with love because Jesus, the eternal Word who was in the beginning with God and is God; who created all things and without whom nothing came to be; became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we say his glory, the glory as of the Father’s only Son.”  We rejoice because “From his fullness we have all received, grace in place of grace, because while the law was given through Moses, grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.”  

All of this is Good News, is great news!!  Our hearts should be bursting with joy at this news.  Even those for whom this is a particularly tough time of year, those who have lost loved ones, whether recently or longer ago, can rejoice because by the mystery of the Lord’s Incarnation, which made possible the crucifixion and Resurrection, we know that death is not the end, and that those who follow Jesus can look forward to an eternal life of joy.  By His Incarnation, Jesus gave us the possibility to be healed from all illness, and to find the fullness of life in heaven.  That is joyful news!!

Will we keep it to ourselves?  Or will we share it with others?  Will we limited by word, like reciting a love song, or will we break into song and sing praise?  May we be the ones about whom Isaiah prophesied when he said, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings glad tidings, announcing peace, bearing good news, announcing salvation.”  May we “Sing joyfully to the Lord…break into song; sing praise.”

The End is Near!

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

            We seem to have two themes running through all our readings today: the first theme is praise of a worthy wife which we heard in our first reading and responsorial psalm; the second theme is preparing properly for the end of the world which we heard in our second reading and Gospel passage.  Though I’m not married, I do not think a worthy wife and the end of the world are related.

            These last few weeks of Ordinary Time (next week is already the last Sunday in Ordinary Time, the Solemnity of Jesus Christ, King of the Universe) and the first couple weeks of Advent always focus us on Jesus’ second coming.  This is a major part of our faith, and we profess it each week in the creed: “He will come again to judge the living and the dead.”  Ever since the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead, the Catholic Church has always considered herself to be living in the end times, and that Jesus could return at any minute.  Hence the message we heard in our second reading: “For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief at night.  When people are saying, ‘Peace and security,’ then sudden disaster comes upon them.”  We cannot grow lax in waiting for Jesus to return. 

            And we are advised against being lax in our Gospel passage when Jesus tells us to use our talents well and make something with them, rather than just hiding them away.  God has given us each something to do that no one else can do, and our eternal salvation is connected to whether or not we are using our talents. 

           

But it’s all too easy to forget about Jesus’ return.  We write off people who hold up signs saying, “The End is Near” as crazy.  How often do we think about Jesus’ coming back to judge us?  Now, we never know the day nor the hour, but we do know it’s coming, and it could be any minute.  Peter Kreeft, a Catholic professor at Boston College, puts the question in a very direct way: If you were to die today, and God asked you, “Why should I let you into heaven?”, what would you say?  That’s a pretty big question!  Maybe we’ve never thought of it that way before.  What would we say?  Of course, in general, the answer is because Jesus died for our sins so that we could enter into heaven.  But that answer begs another question: what have we done to show that we have accepted the gift of eternal salvation that Jesus gave us?  In other words, what have we done with the talents God gave us?  Talents, in the sense Jesus used it in the Gospel, were not so much gifts, as a way of expressing a monetary value.  One talent could have equaled anywhere from $1,000 to 20 years’ worth of wages (Scripture scholars disagree).  But even if we low-ball it at $1,000: we would know what to do with $1,000 or $2,000 or $5,000.  We would use it wisely if entrusted to us.  Even more so with 20, or 40, or 100 years’ worth of wages!!  The gift of eternal salvation is much more expensive: it cost the Son of God His life!!  But what do we do with that?  How do we accept the precious gift of salvation?  Do we capitalize on it and make sure we make the most of it?  Or do we bury it away?

            The servant who had one talent says that he buried the talent out of fear.  But we also know that the master did not come back until after a long time.  In all that time, the servant never had to think about whether or not he was using the talent well.  It was hidden from the world, not doing anything.  Even the master tells the servant that he could have at least put the talent in the bank, done the least little bit with it, so that it would earn interest.  Maybe it wouldn’t be thought of a lot, but at least the talent would be active in the sense of earning more.  And, as we look at the servants who made something with their talents, they were actively engaged with their talent.  Maybe they lost some of what they made.  Maybe at one point they had more than doubled their money, but then lost some.  Still, they used their talents all the while their master was gone.

            What have we done with Jesus’ salvation that was offered to us?  Maybe coming to Mass each week is like putting that talent in the bank.  It’s not much, but at least it’s something.  Maybe earning two more talents is being involved once or twice a month in works of charity, or helping to spread the faith, or talking to someone about Jesus, or reading Scripture on our own.  Maybe earning five more talents is praying daily in addition to going to Mass as often as we can, and being involved in serving the poor, teaching people about Jesus, and trying each day to become closer friends with Jesus.  I honestly don’t know, though, because I’m not the judge; Jesus is.  But if we don’t know, then we have to make a decision: if we do less and more is required of us to show that we accept Jesus’ salvation, then we’re in trouble; if we do more and less is required of us to show that we accept Jesus’ salvation, then we’re set either way, and maybe we’ll enjoy a better reward in heaven.  Put another way: if we are not sure, better to aim for heaven and miss (so that we go to Purgatory) than to aim for Purgatory and miss (so that we go to Hell).  In doing less, we risk hearing: “‘“You wicked, lazy servant!  [...T]hrow this useless servant into the darkness outside where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.”’”  But in doing more, it is more likely that we will hear: “‘“Well done, my good and faithful servant.  […]Come, share your master’s joy.”’”  Which do you want to hear?

"We need to talk..."

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

           

There are certain phrases in life that you never want to hear from a person.  If you are a student you never want to have the teacher tell you, “See me after class.”  If you’re dating someone, you never want to hear, “We need to talk.”  If you’re meeting with your doctor, you never want to hear, “We found something that we didn’t expect.”  All those things generally mean that there is some bad news coming, whether it’s a poor grade on a test, a break-up, or an illness or disease that was just discovered.

            At the end of our life, standing before the judgment seat of God, we don’t want to hear, “‘I do not know where you are from,’” coming from the mouth of Jesus.  That means that what comes next is not good news, and we should be prepared for the afterlife elevator to go down, rather than up.  So it makes sense that the person might say, as Jesus has them saying in today’s Gospel, “‘We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.’”  But then they hear something even worse: “‘I do not know where you are from.  Depart from me, all you evildoers!’”  These probably sound like pretty harsh words from the Divine Person who is supposed to be a loving Shepherd.

            But both last week and this week the Church presents for us what can seem like the harsher side of Jesus.  Last week Jesus was saying how following Him will split apart families.  This week, He’s talking about eternal salvation and how many will be saved.  When we hear passages like the one we heard today, perhaps we try to theologize it away, by highlighting other passages from Scripture which talk about how God desires the salvation of all.  And certainly we take those very seriously and must read today’s passage in light of those.  But more often than not, we don’t read this passage in light of those other Scripture passages, we just ignore today’s and pretend that the one’s about God’s desire for all to be saved are the only passages that are important.  But we do so at our own peril.

            Because while God does desire all to be saved, God also tells us with great sobriety that “‘many…will attempt to enter [through the narrow gate] but will not be strong enough.’”  Enjoying eternal bliss is not the automatic destination, even one of one who is baptized.  It’s the destination God programmed into us, but sin so often takes us off course.  Just because we’re baptized doesn’t mean that we’re going to heaven.  Salvation is not a gift that is offered once for all and accepted or rejected in one moment, but is a gift that is offered to us each day that we have to receive each day in order for it to become our eternal reality.  Just because I lived a holy life yesterday, does not mean that I will today.  In fact, I could be particularly evil today, which could undermine all the good I did yesterday. 

            If you think about it in an academic metaphor, we don’t start class off with a 4.0, and then only lose it if we don’t turn stuff in, or answer questions correctly.  Rather, God offers us opportunities to respond to the love He first showed us, homework assignments and quizzes and tests, and if we do well, we can get that 4.0.  Or, if you prefer, think about it in terms of lifting weights.  We don’t start off with buff little bodies.  We need to work out in order to keep a good, muscular physique.  When we don’t, our muscles get weak and they appear smaller.  I’m living proof of that.  If muscles just came, I’d be pretty buff.  But because I never lifted weights or did any kind of muscle conditioning, I have these little scrawny arms.  Now, good grades are not the most important things in life, nor are muscles.  But what is true with getting a 4.0 and getting big muscles is true about salvation: it doesn’t just happen without any work. 

            It is not enough to be around Jesus, as if salvation comes by way of osmosis.  We might as well sleep with textbooks beneath our pillow in the hopes of learning the material.  The people in Jesus’ words today were around Jesus.  They ate and drank with Him and He taught them in their cities.  And yet Jesus says He does not know them.  It is not enough simply that we are baptized.  Each day we are called to respond to God’s love that He give us first, and the opportunities that He sends our way to share that love with others.  Each day we are called to offer to God the sacrifice of our lives as we seek to do His will in all things.  We discipline ourselves to choose God not ourselves; to choose love, not hate; to choose generosity, not selfishness; to choose truth, not lies.  Baptism is not a Get Out of Hell Free card.  It is, rather, a catalyst that can be used to propel us towards heaven.  Or it can just sit on a shelf and collect dust. 

            The work of the New Evangelization is to reenergize our own faith, and to bring others back into the practice of the faith in which they were baptized, to work out those spiritual muscles.  And our impetus in doing so is because we want them to go to heaven, just as much as we want to go to heaven.  And we know for them, as for ourselves, that the gate to heaven is not wide, but narrow, and the way to heaven is not the easiest path, but often is the hardest, and that new life in God comes only through death to ourselves.  It means that we form our minds around what God has revealed to us, rather than doing our own thing.  It means we go to Mass every Sunday and Holyday; we give of our time, talent, and treasure to the Church; that we talk about our faith in public and pass it on to our families and friends; that we live a life of chastity; that marriages for Catholics happen according to the laws of God and the Church; that we feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty; that we do all this and more according to our abilities.  I pray that I, and all of us, and all those to whom we as a parish are called to evangelize, are not spiritually lazy, but do the hard work of responding to God’s love in everyday life, so that when we die, we will not hear, “I do not know where you are from.  Depart from me, evildoers!” but, “Come, my good and faithful servant; share your Master’s joy.”

All of Me

Fourth Sunday of Easter

            As Americans, we tend to be very practical people.  After a salesman has told us all the benefits of their new product, all the great things it will do for us, the wonderful way that it will compliment our lifestyle, whatever the product may be, it always comes down to one simple question: how much?

            In today’s first reading, we hear St. Peter speak on behalf of the other Apostles, and proclaim, “‘Let the whole house of Israel know for certain that God has made both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.’”  Then the reading skips ahead of the main body of his argument, 22 verses, in fact, and gets to the response of the Jews who were hearing him: “‘What are we to do, my brothers?’”  Apparently, the Jews who were hearing St. Peter were practical, too.  They wanted to know what they had to do to be saved.

            Some 2,000 years later, we’re still asking the same question: what do I really have to do?  What’s it cost me?  The answer is quite simple: nothing…and everything.

            Salvation costs us nothing because it is the free gift of God, the gift given to us by Jesus, Lord and Christ, the Greek way of expressing the Hebrew understanding of God and Messiah, at Easter.  This Jesus whom we crucified, to paraphrase St. Peter from the first reading, has, in turn, given us salvation.  And to continue to St. Peter’s words from the second reading, by Jesus’ wounds we are healed.  Even though we have wondered away like sheep, Jesus Christ has brought us back to Himself because He is our shepherd and the guardian of our souls.  Even though we freely chose sin, individual acts and lifestyles that are contrary to Divine Will, natural law, and reason, to use St. Thomas’ definition of sin, acts and lifestyles which draw us away from the eternal destiny of our souls to be in heaven with God, Jesus rescued us from sin and death so that, following His example, we could be happy with Jesus forever in heaven, the whole reason for our being.  And rather than having us pay the cost, Jesus paid the price for our sins with His blood.  We are free to say yes to the great gift of salvation offered to us by Christ.

Sheep grazing in Israel

            And yet, salvation costs us everything.  Because, as Jesus tells us today in the Gospel, He is the gate for the sheep, and anyone who tries to enter by any other means is a thief and a robber, who come only to steal, slaughter, and destroy.  But Jesus, the Good Shepherd, came so that we might have life, and have it more abundantly.  But to come through Jesus the Sheepgate means that we try to get in through no other means.  That we can only go through Him.  And Jesus doesn’t just want one hour from us every week.  He doesn’t just want the times that we’re at home before a meal praying.  He wants us all.  He wants our love, our attention, our actions.  He wants us when we’re children, when we’re teens, when we’re adults, and when we’re seniors.  He wants our friendships, our relationships, the totality of who we are as persons.  He wants our work and He wants our vacations.  He wants our health and our sickness.  All of it, Jesus tells us, must go through Him.  And if it cannot go through Him, then it is only stealing from us, slaughtering us, destroying us.

            For our God is a loving God, yes, but as we hear so many times from the Old Testament, our God is also a jealous God.  He does not want us flirting with sin, in any of its forms.  He wants all of our love and affection to be directed to Him.  God is jealous for us because He knows that the only way that we can truly be happy is by going through Him and uniting everything to him. 

            In our times there are so many temptations to leave God outside and to try to find happiness and joy through other gates.  We see and hear about many prominent Catholics who have not given everything to Jesus, but who have tried to separate aspects of their life and get them in by another route.  Too many prominent Catholics or Catholics we know personally will say or tell us by their actions that when it comes to marriage and the relationships therein, the Church, the Body of Christ, has no authority.  “It’s my body, and I’ll do as I please.”  Too many Catholics consider their first allegiance the Church when they enter the pew, but when they enter the polling place or the Legislative chambers that allegiance disappears.  Now, let me be clear, the Church endorses no candidate and no party.  But, we do promote the Gospel and ask Catholics to vote for those, according to a properly-formed conscience, who can best bring about the teachings of the Gospel, the teachings which bring us life, true liberty, and true happiness, especially for those who are marginalized in our society: infants in the womb, the poor, the elderly, and so many others, as well as Catholic Legislators to promote those Gospel values in their work of forming laws for the State and the country.

            We are all of us practical people.  We want to know the cost of salvation.  It is nothing and everything.  It is a free gift, offered to us in Christ that gives us true joy and true freedom.  It is a gift which, to accept it, means that we are constantly working at making sure that all of who we are passes through Christ, the Sheepgate.  If it cannot pass through Him, it will not bring joy or freedom, but sorrow and slavery.  Christ wants all of us.  Bishop Mengeling is well-known for using older songs in his homilies and talks, and, while I won’t sing the song, I think that our desire, our prayer could be expressed in the opening words of the oldie, but goodie, “All of Me.”  Because we should be saying to Christ, “All of me, why not take all of me?  Can’t you see I’m no good without you.”  Or, to use an even older version, we can use the words of St. Ignatius of Loyola’s Suscipe prayer:

                                                

                                                Receive, O Lord, all my liberty.

                                                Take my memory, my understanding, and my entire will.

                                                Whatsoever I have or posses Thou hast bestowed upon me;

                                                I give it all back to Thee

                                                and surrender it wholly to be governed by Thy Will.

                                                Give me love for Thee alone along with Thy grace,

                                                and I am rich enough and ask for nothing more.