Zeal and Patience

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    For priests in the Diocese of Lansing, 1 July (or around there) is a special day.  It’s new pastor assignment day, meaning that priests who are moving into a new parish (whether as the first pastor assignment or from a transfer of assignments) usually start on or around that day.  As with any change, it can be stressful, both on the priest and on the people. What is the priest like?  What are the people like?  What is the staff like?  Social media has added a new dimension to the whole process, as future parishioners can “Facebook stalk” their new priest and see what they can learn from his pictures and posts.

After the Easter Vigil at my first pastorate in Adrian

    One of the many questions when a parish receives a new priest is how much he will change.  From a priest’s perspective, the question is how much he feels he needs to change, and when to make those changes.  From the people’s perspective, the question is basically the same, but perhaps with a bit more trepidation.  And different priests will give different advice on how fast a new priest should move on changes.  On the one hand, some priests say don’t change anything for the first year.  On the other hand, people often are prepared for some things to change when getting a new priest, so it may be easier to make changes right at the beginning, rather than waiting to change.  And, of course, it depends on what the new priest wants to change, and if it is a sacred cow to parishioners.
    Stereotypically, young priests in their new pastorate want to change a lot, and they often want to move quickly.  They may have good reasons and good intentions.  But, having been a pastor a few times, my advice is to move slowly on changing things that can wait, and only change things quickly that are of the utmost importance, though I will admit I’m not sure I’ve always followed my own advice in the past.  And we hear that general theme of patience in the Gospel today, though not precisely aimed at new pastors.  
    Christ again and again urges patience.  Whether it’s weeds growing among the wheat, or the growth of the mustard seed, or the rising of dough from yeast, all these require patience.  The master allows the weeds to grow so as not to harm the wheat.  The mustard seed starts small but grows large, as long as one has patience to let it grow.  The yeast mixed in the dough rises, but you have to wait over night or throughout the day.  As I have become known as the “Bourbon Priest,” I will admit that I associate yeast more with distilling than baking, but that’s just me.
    Impatience leads to problems.  I’m a fan of pita bread, but if you want sourdough bread, you can’t rush things without ruining the batch.  You can’t rush a tree growing.  And if you pull up the weeds too early, it might destroy your crop, and then you have nothing to show for all your work.  But, of course, the main point is not agriculture; it’s souls.
    Haste makes waste.  Too much zeal, especially if applied without patience, can turn people off from the Gospel.  Patience allows others to develop their faith, even if certain corrections are required from time to time.  Zeal is a good thing, as it drives us to seek the truth and help others live that truth.  But when zeal is misapplied, it can destroy progress made.  Now, perhaps we are sometimes too patient with others and give too much time, but we shouldn’t go from one extreme to the other.  Virtue stands in the middle.  Not too much, not too little.  Like Goldilocks, we need just the right amount of zeal and patience.
    And while we often think about zeal and patience with others, which is good, we should also exhibit both zeal and patience with ourselves.  Do we push ourselves to be more open to God’s grace and follow His teachings?  But do we also allow for the fact that we won’t do so perfectly?  So often we go to extremes with others but also with ourselves.  We might be overzealous and expect unrealistic change or growth in our spiritual life in a short period of time.  We have conversion of mind and commit ourselves to living in the truth, or encouraging others to live in the truth, but then when we fall short, as we often do when it comes to change and lofty goals, we crash and give up.  Or, we might be over-patient and figure that Christ is so merciful and understanding that we don’t really need to worry about the fact that we keep falling into the same sins and vices and never seem to make any progress.  In reality, Christ calls us to set lofty goals for our spiritual life, and to seek His grace to get us there, but to be patient if we don’t reach that goal perfectly.  

    [This is certainly true for you, my dear Catechumens.  You have experienced a call from Christ to follow Him.  You have recognized the parts of your life that need to change to be configured to Christ.  But perhaps you have also experienced some discouragement because you’re not there yet.  That’s ok.  Don’t slack, but don’t give up, either.  There’s a reason why we ask you to wait around a year before we baptize you.  We want you to know what you are doing, and to be able to commit to the new life of a disciple, rather than rushing in with too much zeal, and then backing out after baptism because you changed your mind or don’t feel like you can live the Gospel.  God calls you to deepen your relationship with Him, but He is patient with you as you walk away from your sinful past and walk towards holiness with God.]
    Zeal is good.  So is patience.  Both are necessary for real and long-lasting spiritual growth.  Don’t be too zealous and turn others or yourself away from slow, but real change and growth.  Don’t be too lazy and miss out on real changes and growth that will help you be a better disciple.  Be zealously patient with others and with yourself.

A Surprise Every Time

Easter Sunday

The sections in brackets [] are for the Extraordinary Form Mass only.
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]. In Episode III of Star Wars (the sixth Star Wars movie made) there is a scene that takes place toward the end of the movie, a scene that I always wish would change.  Spoiler alert, for those who haven’t seen it yet.  Emperor Palpatine, the Sith Lord, is lying at the edge of a window that has been shattered, and Jedi Master Mace Windu is about to kill him.  Young Jedi Anakin Skywalker is looking on, having alerted Master Windu that the emperor was the Sith Lord the Jedi had been searching for during the past two movies.  Emperor Palpatine pleads with Anakin to save him, so that the Sith can help Anakin save his wife, Padmé.   Right before Master Windu is about to dispatch the Sith Lord, Anakin intervenes, and Emperor Palpatine is able to disarm and then kill Master Windu.  It’s at this point that Anakin pledges his allegiance to Emperor Palpatine, and becomes Darth Vader.

Palpatine killing Mace Windu

    No matter how many times I have seen that movie, I always want Anakin to simply allow Mace Windu to kill Emperor Palpatine, and stop all the horrors that Darth Vader would cause from that point on.  It’s not a surprise when the scene plays out as it always does, but I’m always in suspense in case somehow, against all odds and all reason, good triumphs in that moment.  Most other movies that I have seen before I am resigned to watch what I know will happen, but with this movie, for some reason, I’m always a little shocked that it follows as it does.
    When it comes to the Resurrection, it’s a movie we’ve seen before.  We know Christ rises from the dead.  We know, when we hear the Gospel that the tomb will be empty.  But what is our response?  Is it a blasé acceptance of facts, or does it hit us fresh each time?  Are we pleasantly surprised that good actually triumphed over evil, and that sin and death were conquered?

An image of the Resurrection from where it happened

    Those first disciples were certainly surprised.  The Evangelists makes clear that no one expected Jesus to rise from the dead (though the Blessed Mother may be an exception to that general rule).  But when they realized it was true, it changed the way they lived their lives.  It gave them hope in the midst of doubt, light in times of darkness, and courage when their enemies pressed all around them. 
    The first disciples lived with the new yeast, leavening their entire lives.  They lived in sincerity and truth, knowing that if the worst that the world could throw at God couldn’t conquer Him, then nothing could.  And if they were with Him, then they couldn’t be conquered, either.  They lived as those utterly convinced that if God was for them, who could be against them?  Especially in the first centuries of the Church, but even continuing into the bloodiest century for Christians ever–the twentieth century, which produced more martyrs than every other century combined–Christians were under regular attack, and not simply with words, or shutting down social media accounts, but pouring oil on them, attaching them to posts, and lighting them on fire to provide lamps through the streets of Rome; crucifying them in mockery of their Lord; sending wild and starving beasts after them in circuses around the Roman world; or, if they were a Roman citizen, executing the more humane sentence of beheading. 
    They gathered in secret in those first few centuries, in various centuries since, and this still continues today in certain places in the Middle East, in China, and in parts of Africa.  They didn’t mind that Mass might not be at a time they wanted, or as often as they wanted, but were happy to be able to gather and be strengthened by God’s Word and the Body and Blood of Christ.  
    So, do we live differently because of the Resurrection?  Are we casting out the old yeast malice and wickedness?  Does coming to this altar of God restore the joy of our youth?  Does it affect the way that we treat each other on the road, in our families, at our job?  Do we want to share the joy of our relationship with Christ, or are we happy to keep it to ourselves?  St. Mark describes the disciples as “utterly amazed.”  You can imagine the thoughts running through Peter and John’s head when they found the empty tomb and the burial cloths off to the side.  When people see the difference that the Resurrection makes in our life, are they utterly amazed?  What thoughts run through other people’s minds as they see us living in the light of the Resurrection?  Do they even see a difference?
    This story, this real-life story of the Resurrection, does not have to be humdrum.  It can feel new every time we watch it, like that scene from Star Wars is to me.  If it doesn’t strike us that way, pray to God to make it new in your life.  Spend time in front of the Blessed Sacrament and ask the Lord to remind you how powerful the Resurrection is, to stir into faith the realization that Christ has conquered sin and death, and if sin and death cannot find victory over Christ, then nothing can gain the victory over us if we’re connected to Christ.  Today makes everything different.  Make sure that others know the difference of the Resurrection by witnessing you!  [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Sprit.  Amen.]

Jesus is Alive!

Easter Vigil & Easter Sunday

The thought had crossed my mind, but apparently someone put up a billboard on 23 that says something like, “Jesus is dead.  April fools!”  I have to admit, it is a little weird that Easter falls on April Fools Day.  But as we assemble to celebrate our Lord’s Resurrection, we should ask ourselves if we truly believe that Jesus is alive.  And if we believe it, is that belief evident in our actions?

It’s very easy to treat Jesus like we treat any other deceased teacher or famous figure.  Someone recently told me that a lot of young people today see Jesus in the same light as Mahatma Ghandi, or Abraham Lincoln, or Socrates, that is, that they were good people, who taught and did good things, but now they’re gone, and relegated to history books and their writings.  Jesus is simply one of a long list of teachers and do-gooders who have graced the earth with their presence.  

But there is a major difference: Mahatma Ghandi, Abraham Lincoln, and Socrates, along with all the other teachers and good people, are all dead.  Jesus is alive, and we know it because His disciples, who, as our Gospel relates, were not looking for Him to be alive, saw the risen Jesus.  We can joke about “Who’s buried in Grant’s tomb?” (because Ulysses S. Grant is actually in a sarcophagus above ground), but the tomb of Jesus is empty.  I have seen it, and there’s no one there.

I think it can be easy at times to treat Jesus like a deceased relative that we loved dearly.  We like to remember that person; we probably have a nice picture of that person in our home.  Maybe we even talk to that person from time to time.  I know I have a picture of my deceased grandmother in my home, as well as the pictures of other friends who have died in my office.  And we do profess by faith in our funeral Masses that, for the faithful, life is changed, not ended.  But with Jesus it’s even more dramatic.  His Body and Soul and united and He is active in the world.  

And it’s not just that he’s alive in the people who believe in Him, in their hearts and in their minds.  He’s more alive than that.  People saw Him, touched Him, heard Him, and ate with Him.  And we can, too.  

I think about my friends who are alive, and the way I think of them, versus how I think of my deceased relatives.  There’s a difference.  I’m not sure I can quite explain it, but there is.  You probably know what I’m talking about.  But when we think of Jesus, in which category do we put Jesus: our alive friends, or our deceased relatives?

So what does it look like to actually believe and act as if Jesus is alive?  What are some of the ways that others can know that we believe Jesus is alive?  One way is by our actions.  St. Paul (in our second reading) encouraged us to put away the old yeast, “the yeast of malice and wickedness,” and to live with the new “bread of sincerity and truth.”  If Jesus is alive, then He encourages us and strengthens us by the power of the Holy Spirit to live in a new way, a way that patterns our life on the life of Jesus.  We reject hatred, we reject vengeance, we reject evil desires, and we live for honesty, for love, for forgiveness, and for virtue.  

I don’t know about you, but I also talk about my friends who are alive a lot more than I talk about my deceased relatives.  Yes, we talk about the deceased especially around holidays.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  But we tend to tell stories about what we do with our friends, our communications with our friends, and how much we value our friendship especially when that friend is still alive.  I’m sure I bore people to death with some of my stories from ride alongs with my State Trooper friends.  There are things with other friends that seem funny to me that make no sense to people who don’t know my friends.  And I often will sing the praises of friends who help pick me up when I’m feeling down.  

Do we do the same with Jesus?  We might have to think about it, but we all have stories about times that we have spent with Jesus that are memorable.  Some of those stories may even sound crazy, but we know that it was Jesus and that He was there with us.  And how many times have we experienced the love of Jesus?  And yet, how often do we talk about that?  About ten chapters after our second reading, St. Paul also says to the people of Corinth, “if Christ has not been raised, your faith is in vain; you are still in your sins.  …If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are the most pitiable people of all.”  In other words, if Jesus is dead, if Jesus was just a good teacher who went the way of all the other good teachers, then redemption is not ours, and we are the most pathetic people.  

But Jesus is alive.  It’s not an April Fools joke.  Recommit yourselves this Easter to living like Jesus is alive: not only remembering Him on each Sunday as we come to Mass (that is important), but talking with Him, listening to Him, inviting Him to be a part of your life, talking about Him, and living a life like Jesus’ to the best of our ability.