War and Peace Begins with Us

Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Pope Pius XII

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  “Nothing is lost by peace; everything may be lost by war.”  Who do you suppose said this?  Pope Leo XIV?  Pope Francis?  It was Pope Pius XII in 1939, a week before historians say that World War II began.  “It is hardly possible to imagine that in an atomic age era, war could be used as an instrument of justice.”  That was Pope St. John XXIII in his Encyclical, Pacem in Terris.  As we hopefully find ourselves at the end of another war, this time with Iran, and given the readings today, I thought it important to reflect on violence and peace on this fifth Sunday after Pentecost.
    To be fair, declarations of war are the proper authority of governments.  Yet the Church has something to say about war and the moral questions and implications of war.  But today’s homily is not for members of Congress nor for heads of state.  Today’s homily is for you, not so much as a one-sided talking to about whether or not we should have entered into a war (declared or not) in Iran, but what we contribute to war or peace.  
    St. Peter, our first pope, tells us today in the epistle that Christ does not call us to return evil for evil, and that we “must turn from evil and do good, seek peace and follow after it.”  Why?  Because, frankly, we’re bad at meting out just punishment.  It doesn’t mean that we can’t, but we’re not very good at it.  And we see this from a young age.  There you are, a young child, minding your own business, riding in a car with your parents on a beautiful sunny day, maybe even on your way to or coming from church, and your sister decides to push your buttons by poking you in the arm.  Now, you know your parents have told you to use your words, so you tell your sister to stop.  But this only eggs her on all the more, and she keeps poking you.  So you hit her, to show her that she can’t pick on you without repercussions.  But she doesn’t want to look like a weakling, so she pushes you back, until you’re in a full-on car fight and your parents look back and tell you both to cut it out, and your dad says, “If I have to pull this car over…”
    When we respond to perceived wrongs, we tend to give a little more than we got, as a deterrent to the person wronging us.  In our attempt to be just, we tend to go a little beyond justice.  But then the other person feels aggrieved, and has to respond to us, and goes a little beyond what we deserve.  And so the cycle starts and sometimes even goes to a point we never would have imagined.
    St. James asks in his epistle, “Where do the wars and where do the conflicts among you come from?  Is it not from your passions?”  Our Lord knew that we often don’t hit the target of justice and tend to give more punishment than others deserve.  And so, while the Decalogue forbade murdering another (“Thou shalt not kill”), Christ the New Moses teaches us that we have to nip anger in the bud in order to stop unjust force, and change our hearts so that we act from a place of peace, not a place of wrath or vengeance.  

G.K. Chesterton

    “But,” you may say, “what about the Nazis?  Shouldn’t we have fought them?”  Before answering that, if you have to use Nazi’s to justify your argument, you probably haven’t developed your arguments well enough, and simply disagree with the conclusion without having an issue with individual propositions that lead to the conclusion.  But, having said that, the Church does allow, in some limited cases, that war, primarily in self-defense, is necessary.  And this finds its basis in our individual right, and sometimes duty, to defend ourselves and others.  A parent who doesn’t defend their child from violence is a coward, not a virtuous person.  But, again, what is the motivation?  Is it because we really don’t like the aggressor and we’re glad we finally have a reason to knock his lights out?  Or is it because we love our children and don’t want any harm to come to them.  G.K. Chesterton wisely wrote, “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.”  The motivation comes not from antagonism towards others, but love of those he or she is bound to protect by some obligation, be it a parent of a child, a law enforcement officer of a community, or a soldier of a nation.  
    When we “give it to them” to prove that we are the victors and the stronger person, we tend to perpetual the cycle of violence.  Even looking at World War II, most historians agree that the ingredients for the rise of the Nazi party came from an overaggressive and punitive response to Germany and Austria in the Treaty of Versailles.  The allies were so hurt by the people and materials lost in World War I, that they allowed vengeance to govern the resumption of peace, rather than trying to truly bring back justice and not going beyond that.  
    In our lives, we have to ask ourselves if we, or probably how we, perpetual a cycle of violence.  Even if I am simply acting only out of anger or animus towards another, I am contributing, even in a very small way, to a mentality that might makes right and violence is the only answer that works.  While we don’t have to make decisions on going to war, we do have to decide how we respond to injustices.  Are we willing, without denying our right to self-defense and defense of others, especially the vulnerable, to seek good rather than evil, peace rather than conflict?  Do my insults and harsh words of others build up the common good, or make others feel victimized so that they have to get back at me?  If every person learns to give better than you get, will the people who get elected to positions of government just carry that over into international relations?  
    God does not call us to be doormats and allow others to victimize us without consequence.  But if we can die to our passions which seek retribution; if we can truly seek the good of the other, even if we have to do so from afar, then we can, in our own small way, promote peace, which comes when people feel they are treated with dignity.  If we wish to stop wars, violence, and hatred, then we cannot simply state that we have not murdered anyone.  As Christ teaches us, we have to first work on eliminating the anger and hatred in our own hearts, and love others as Christ has loved us.  Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen.   

People of Constant Sorrow and Joy

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

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

Going Through Difficult Times with St. Pius X

Solemnity of St. Pius X
    We certainly live in tumultuous times, both locally, nationally, and internationally.  As a parish, we continue to seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit so that we can best serve the mission we have to proclaim the Gospel, whether as a part of this parish, or if this branch should be pruned to allow the rest of the vine to produce more fruit.  Our nation continues to see unrest, political intrigue, and scarcity of some supplies.  Wars and threats of war exist around our globe.  Even our beloved Catholic Church seems to be afflicted with confusion and antagonism.  With so many things changing, we look for a stabilizing factor to keep us on the right path.

    Pope St. Pius X reigned through his own tumultuous times.  His baptismal name was Giuseppe Sarto.  He came from a poor family, but his family valued education, so he walked 3.7 miles to school each day (though likely not uphill both ways).  He was the second born of ten children, one of whom died after six days, one of whom died after six months.  His election as pope came after Jan Cardinal Kosielsko of Poland, in the name of Emperor Franz Josef I, vetoed the election of Mariano Cardinal Rampolla as pope.  While the veto was rejected, Cardinal Rampolla lost enough support to continue voting on who would be pope.  Cardinal Sarto thought death a better fate than being elected pope, but that fate would be his.  He was elected pope on 4 August 1903, and took the name Pius X, both out of admiration for recent popes who also chose the name Pius, and stating, “As I shall suffer, I shall take the name of those Popes who also suffered.”  He had as his motto: Instaurare Omnia in Christo; To Renew All Things in Christ.
    During Pius X’s reign, Communism was gaining strength in Russia.  There was a Mexican Civil War.  And World War I broke out two months before Pius X’s death.  There were theological controversies running rampant, leading to Pope Pius X requiring all priests to take an Oath against Modernity, Modernity being the name Pius X gave to the recent group of heresies that was springing up.  The world and the Church seemed to be in turmoil, much like our own days.
    What kept Pope St. Pius X grounded was the Eucharist.  He had a great devotion to the Eucharist, and encouraged children to receive the Eucharist at the age of reason (around 7), rather than the previous age of twelve.  He wanted people, as long as they were not aware of grave sins, to receive the strength to live the Catholic life from the Body and Blood of Christ, because Pius X knew that without Christ, we can do nothing as disciples, and if we wish to remain strong, we must stay with Christ, even as the waves broke all around the barque or ship of Peter. 
    As we, as a parish, go through this ten month study of the current financial and demographic reality of our parish, to help us discern where our trajectory is as a parish; as our government seems to work more and more for the benefit of those who have power and wealth; as people within our country seem to war against each other, and wars and attacks between nations seem to grow with each passing month; as so many Catholics abandon the faith that raised them, or reject the timeless and infallible teachings of faith and morals that have defined Catholic identity; we, took, might wonder what we are to do to be strong and have a firm base.  That strength and that firm base come from where it always has and always will: Jesus.
    If we wish to be strong, if we wish to weather these storms around us, we, too, need to be close to Jesus in the Eucharist, as Pope St. Pius X recommended over a century ago.  For it is only when we are connected to Jesus that our faith can survive.  Our love for Jesus is shown in a primary way by asking Him for forgiveness when we have strayed from the way of life that we are called to live by Christ, and then, having been forgiven, receiving in a state of grace the flesh that gives life to those who receive it, the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.  The Eucharist is the nourishment that feeds our soul, that strengthens the muscles of our faith, that provides the fuel to keep us walking on the pilgrimage home to heaven.

    But receiving the Eucharist is not meant to be the end of staying close to Christ, but the catalyst to then sharing that strength and firm base that we have in Jesus.  Jesus asked Peter today if Peter loved Him.  When Peter said that he did, Jesus gave Peter a mission.  When Giuseppe Sarto was elected pope, Jesus asked Giuseppe to practice that love by shepherding the entire Church of Christ.  Each time we receive Jesus as an act of love, Jesus gives us a mission to share that grace and love with others.  We, as sheep of the Lord’s flock, are to find the lost sheep and invite them back to the fold, so that they may recognize the voice of the Good Shepherd and find the pastures of eternal life. 
    That may seem difficult.  It may seem hopeless and futile.  Amid so many concerns, why still remain faithful to our Church?  Why spread that good news to others?  Because the storms will pass, the tumult will subside, and Christ will be the One who remains.  Will we stay connected to Him, especially through the worthy reception of the Eucharist, and so outlast whatever trials and tribulations come our way?  Pope St. Pius X, help us to stay faithful to Christ so that all things may be renewed by Him; Pope St. Pius X, pray for us!