Do You Smell Good?

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            A couple of weeks ago I went out to lunch with a guy named Joe.  Joe graduated from Lansing Catholic this past May, and was getting ready to move down to Ave Maria College in Florida, where he will play football, and he wanted to catch-up a little before he left.  While Joe and I were eating lunch, the waitress, a 45-50 year old women came over and said, “I just have to say, one of you smells really good.”  There we were, left with the option of a woman liking the smell of either a young priest (dressed in clerics, mind you), or an 18-year-old. 

            A few days later, playing volleyball with some friends on a Thursday evening, my teammate tells me as he’s about to serve, “Father, you smell really good!  What type of cologne do you wear?” 

            We each have our own smells.  Some are highlighted (or hidden) by deodorants and/or cologne or perfume.  But our “scent,” if you will, helps to communicate who we are.  St. Paul, in our second reading, tells us to “be imitators of God…as Christ loved us and handed himself over…as a sacrificial offering to God for a fragrant aroma.”  So if we are to be like Jesus, we must smell like Jesus, not in the sense of our musk, but in the way we live.

            When a person is baptized and later confirmed, Sacred Chrism is put on his or her head.  The Chrism is a mixture of olive oil and a special perfume.  Parents of baptized babies notice the smell of the Chrism.  Those who are confirmed certainly notice the smell, especially since most of those who are confirmed around here are in adolescence and are very concerned with how they smell.  But Sacred Chrism smells for a reason.  It reminds us that we are to have a special smell, the aroma of Christ, the odor of holiness.

            How do we smell differently?  How do we have the odor of holiness?  There are a lot of ways, but based upon our first reading and our Gospel, I want to suggest one very practical way: the way we treat Sundays.

Sunday is a Christian’s day, because it is the day that Jesus rose from the dead.  That’s why we set it aside every week for worship.  It is the new Sabbath, fulfilling the rest that God commanded we take in the Ten Commandments.  It is a day to be given over to the worship of God, charitable works, family and friends, and relaxation.  And it used to set us Catholics apart, just as Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath, set Jews apart.  But we have fallen away from the sacredness of the Lord’s Day.

Why do we need the Lord’s Day?  Frankly, we need the rest.  I’m sure I could ask any one of you how the past week went, and you would have myriad events that took place that, whether simply required or even recreational, drained your batteries.  We need rest, just like Elijah, working for God, needed rest.  In fact, he was running away from King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, who were going to kill him, because he had demonstrated the power of the true God, and put to death the false-prophets of Baal.  But, Sunday is not just about sleeping all day.  Even Elijah is told to take bread, because He will need it for the journey to the mountain of God.

Sunday is also about worship, and for us as Catholics, that worship means the Mass.  We are not fulfilling the Sabbath Commandment if we just sleep all day and vaguely think about God.  We need to come to Mass because it is only in the Mass that the Bread of Angels, the Eucharist, is given to us.  We come to Mass because it is there, in a special way, that we are taught by God through His Word, read to us to strengthen us to live out our baptismal call to holiness.  Jesus promises us that, if we are not conscious of grave sin, which makes us unworthy to receive His Body and Blood, than we will live forever, because the bread that He gives is his “flesh for the life of the world.”  The Eucharist is precisely what we need to have strength to do those million things that naturally arise in life between Monday and Saturday, from work, from family, from sports, etc. 

Now, there are lots of people, even Catholics, who do not go to Mass on Sunday, who do not receive the Eucharist, and we may think that they’re doing just fine.  But “just fine” is only a shadow of the “great” that God wants for them, if they would only come to Mass to worship and receive, in a state of grace, the Eucharist.  Without the Body and Blood of Christ that we receive at Mass, we are only a shadow of who we can truly be in Christ.

For the rest of the day, as a way of having the aroma of Christ, let’s say no to almost everything else.  That will be hard, without a doubt.  And some of us have to work, especially in emergency response jobs or the service industry like in restaurants or gas stations.  But, many of us can say no to anything which is not truly relaxing and God-focused.  Many of us can say no to sports practices and menial work which can be done on other days.  If we pledge to each other that we will say no to lesser things, which allows us to say yes to God, family & friends, assisting the poor, and relaxation for one day per week, then our families will be able to worship God and find strength in the Eucharist, and will be able to enjoy each other’s company and strengthen their familial bonds, and we’ll have the strength and energy we need to do the work that lies ahead of us from Monday through Saturday: at work, at school, on the field, in the gym, and around the house.  And in this one way, we will have the aroma of Christ, the odor of holiness, so that we will smell good, not for a waitress or a friend, but for God.

Being Intimate

75^th Anniversary of the Diocese of Lansing

            When I was at Lansing Catholic High School as a student from 1998-2002, our principal was famous for one phrase: “Don’t dig yourself a hole.”  While many of us in the class heard it so often that we started to make light of it, as  high school students are wont to do, looking back, it was great advice which serves a person well in academics, sports, and extra-curriculars of any kind.    In essence, what our principal was saying was that starting out is very important in anything we do to being successful in the long run.

            As we begin our Year of Prayer as a Diocese, our Gospel starts us out strong, because we begin with the prayer of Jesus, the one who prays perfectly.  In our Gospel passage, we are allowed to enter into the private, intimate exchange between the Father and Son, just as the apostles were at the Last Supper, when this prayer was originally prayed. 

            Our Year of Prayer, as a Diocese, is precisely about entering into that intimate relationship between the Father and the Son, a love so strong that it breathes forth the Holy Spirit.  And we can only do so because we have been consecrated by Christ in Baptism.  We have been consecrated into the truth.  And because of that consecration we can take part in the pouring forth of love between Father and Son and Holy Spirit, which forms the foundation of any true love that exists in the entire universe.  How blest we are to be able to listen to the words of Love Incarnate to His Father!  Without God’s permission, we could never presume, as creatures, to be worthy of hearing that dialogue.  But God welcomes us, through Jesus, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to not only observe the dialogue, but to become part of it in Christ. 

            In this Mass, we celebrate the dialogue in ritual ways.  God speaks to us grace and peace, and we respond.  God speaks His Word, and we say, “Thanks be to God.”  Jesus ultimate gift of love to the Father, His very self on the cross, is re-presented for us on this altar of sacrifice in the Eucharist.  And this act of love is so great that we are invited to respond after the Words of Institution and I remind us that this is the Mystery of Faith. 

            Celebrating Mass, this celebration, is the best thing that I will ever do in my life.  Joining in the celebration with me is the best thing you will ever do in your life.  Nothing can top it, except heaven, of which this Mass is an anticipation.  In the reality of God, there is no more intimate union with God then what happens right here, because we are involved in the total gift of the Son, in whom we are members through Baptism, to the Father.

            But we are not given this great gift so that we can keep it to ourselves.  Jesus does not consecrate us and allows us to share in the most powerful, intimate love ever just to keep it to ourselves.  We then are called to be in union with Jesus, all of us together, through His teachings, given to us in Scripture and in the teachings of the Church.  And we are also called to share it with others, so that the world will believe that God sent Jesus, and that God loves us even as He loves Jesus.  And when we share that love with others, in union of action and belief with who Jesus is and what He teaches us through the Scriptures and His Body, the Church, then others want that.  They hunger for it.  They want that love, because they were created for that love.

            Each week, in the Mass, we enter into the most powerful, most intimate love ever: the love of the Trinity Who is Love itself.  Each week, if we receive the Body and Blood worthily, we are given grace to then share that love with others.  During this Year of Prayer, draw deeper into the love of God by growing deeper in love with the Mass, and with daily prayer which continues that love each day.  And then share that love with others, so that all may be joined to Christ in His Church, and experience the Love that God has for us.

From Pippen to St. Thomas

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            One of my favorite movies is the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy.  While the purists may argue about the real value of the movies, I like them.  One of my favorite comedic dialogues from the Trilogy, is between Aragorn, Pippin, and Merry, as they’re going to Rivendell, the home of the Elves.  Pippin wants to stop for breakfast, but Aragorn tells them that they have to keep going, and besides, they’ve already had breakfast.  Pippen then says, “We’ve had one, yes.  But what about second breakfast?”  Merry chimes in, “Don’t think he knows about second breakfast, Pip.”  To which, Pippen replies, “What about elevensies?  Luncheon?  Afternoon tea?  Dinner?  Supper?”

            In the overall picture of destroying the One Ring and defeated Sauron, all those meals, as good as they are, were not as important.  There are greater goals which trump the goods of “nice, crispy bacon.”  The same can be said for our Gospel passage today.

            Today marks the beginning of a continuous reading of John 6, called the Bread of Life discourse, as we hear about the Multiplication of the Loaves.  The Multiplication itself was prefigured in God giving the Israelites manna in the dessert (though, as we’ll hear in the next few weeks, the people later thought it was Moses who gave them manna), as well as in our first reading, when Elisha fed one hundred people with only twenty barley loaves.

            But the Multiplication of the Loaves was not the goal.  The goal was the teaching on the Eucharist, a tough teaching indeed.  In fact, it was so tough, that most of Jesus’ disciples abandoned Him.  But we’ll hear about that in a few weeks.

            Still, the problem is that we can be more like Pippen than we’d like to admit.  The story of the food can distract us from the point of the miracle that Jesus performed.  And John is quite clear that Jesus is the agent, not the people.  John writes, “[Jesus] himself knew what he was going to do” and “Jesus…distributed [the loaves] to those who were reclining,” after he had first given thanks (in Greek eucharistesas…it sounds like Eucharist).  But, as will hear later, the people get stuck with the feeding, and they don’t understand the spiritual truth for which the miracle was meant to prepare the way.  And that spiritual truth was that Jesus was to give Himself as the Bread of Life for the people in the Eucharist, which is truly His Flesh, and the Wine of Salvation which is truly His Blood.

            Sadly, many Catholics today get stuck with the food, and don’t realize the truth.  Too many Catholics see bread and think…bread.  Or taste wine and think…wine.  Some surveys say that only 30% of Catholics believe that the bread and the wine, given by the people to the priest, to offer in their name to God, really becomes, for as long as it exists, the Body and Blood of Jesus.  And even if we didn’t have a scientific study, actions speak louder than words.    

            For example, I have often heard people say, “I prefer going to the Lutheran service, or the Evangelical service, because they have better music and better preaching.”  They might have better music (arguments can be made), and there are a great deal of priests that struggle with preaching (you may think you’re looking at one).  But what others don’t have is Jesus’ Body and Blood.  They may celebrate communion, but no Protestant theologian would ever say that they believe in Transubstantiation: that the substance of the bread and wine change into the substance of Jesus, that is, His Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity.  They might believe it becomes a symbol of Jesus’ Body and Blood, or even that it’s in the bread, with the bread, underneath the bread, and around the bread, what some call Consubstantiation, but that it remains, in essence only bread.  But, getting back to the point, it breaks my heart when people go to a service elsewhere and don’t go to Mass, because they’re missing out on union with Jesus through the Eucharist, a special union where we become one with Him in a way that cannot happen through any other means, as good as those other services may be.

            Or, when people drink coffee or eat food right before Mass starts, or chew gum, even during Mass itself!  The reason why the Church tells us to fast 1 hour before receiving communion is to prepare not only our souls, but also our bodies (since the two are integrally connected) to receive our Lord.  Practically, an hour before receiving communion is about 20 minutes before Mass, which is not that long.  Not fasting before the reception of Holy Communion can demonstrate a lack of understanding of what the Eucharist truly is.  We get stuck at the food part, and don’t consider the reality that what looks like bread and wine is not bread and wine, but Jesus.   

            If we truly believe that the Eucharist is the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ, then no other service, no matter how much we enjoy it, is ever the same, because we lack that intimate connection that comes only through the Divine Liturgy of the Mass.  If we know that we are going to become one with our Savior, then holding off on food or drink (except water and medicine), as long as it does not truly injure our health, is a way of saying that nothing matters more than Jesus, and that we will hunger and thirst for Him.  Even though it looks like bread and wine, let us not be deceived by our senses, but affirm with our faith that the One we receive is none other than Jesus Himself.  As the beautiful hymn Adoro Te, Devote by our parish patron, St. Thomas Aquinas, says about the Eucharist,

Seeing, touching, tasting are in thee deceived:

How? says trusty hearing that shall be believed;

What God’s Son has told me, take for truth I do;

Truth himself speaks truly or there’s nothing true.

"Babeling"

Pentecost

            In the story of the Tower of Babel, the sacred author of Genesis tries to explain how all the people of the earth at that time were speaking different languages.  The people try to build a tower to be able to go up to God.  Instead, God makes them speak different languages, so that they cannot complete the tower.  The Solemnity of Pentecost is the undoing of the confusion of Babel.  St. Luke records for us in the Acts of the Apostles that Jews from all over the world, who were in Jerusalem, heard the apostles speaking to them in their native languages, languages that the apostles did not know or speak minutes before the Spirit was given to them. 

While it is a work of God the Holy Spirit to allow the apostles to be able to speak to the Jews from all across the world in their own varied native languages, the story of the Tower of Babel, and the undoing of Babel at Pentecost, is about something much greater than being able to speak many languages.

            In the story of the Tower of Babel, humanity tries to make itself equal with God, to decide for itself what is right and wrong.  And the result of this pride is that everyone starts speaking differently so that no one is understood.  Our society is still a culture of Babel.

            We are a culture that values having our own opinions on just about everything and we often feel that our opinions are necessarily right, just as our neighbor feels that his opinion is necessarily right.  The result is that we often talk past each other without any understanding.  Take, for example, cable news stations like MSNBC, Fox News, or CNN.  Each presents the same facts, more or less.  But then those facts are pushed through a particular filter by which that station views the world, their opinion about how things should be, and we end up getting 3 different stories even though the facts are the same. 

            This is true also in the faith.  More and more people are deciding that their opinions about God, faith, and morality are necessarily the right ones, and no one should be able to contradict what they say, unless, of course, they want someone else’s opinion.  Whether it’s on who Jesus is, how marriage should be defined, women’s ordination, or contraception, or any other major issue, we have become the judges of right and wrong.  We are trying to build our own towers to God to tell Him how He should be.  And the result is confusion as each person speaks past each other as they share their opinions.

            Pentecost stands in stark contrast to this.  Rather than us trying to be on equal footing with God, Jesus sends the Holy Spirit to the apostles, the Blessed Mother, and the disciples to lead them into all truth, as Jesus says in the Gospel according to John, because the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Truth.  He is not the Spirit of Opinion.  And while the many languages that were explained by Babel are still present, each person hears the truth, that Jesus is Lord and all that flows from who Jesus is, from the lips of the disciples in his or her own language.  No longer are opinions just being tossed about, but the truth is delivered, and the truth is convincing. 

            This gift of the Spirit of Truth did not end on Pentecost, as if it were a one-time event.  The Holy Spirit continues to pour Himself out to the apostles and disciples in the Church.  Through the successors of the apostles, the bishops, in union with the successor of St. Peter, the Pope, the Spirit fulfills Jesus’ promise to St. Peter that the gates of hell would never prevail against the Church and that what the apostles would be inspired to hold bound or loosed on earth would be held bound or loosed in heaven.  This gift is called the Magisterium: the bishops in union with the Pope, who teach, without error, on matters of faith and morals, like on who Jesus is, marriage, ordination, and contraception.

            But the disciples, too, are gifted with the Holy Spirit, to be persevered in the Truth.  Vatican II, in the document Lumen gentium, put it this way: “The entire body of the faithful, anointed as they are by the Holy One, cannot err in matters of belief…when ‘from the Bishops down to the last of the lay faithful’ they show universal agreement in matters of faith and morals.  It is exercised under the guidance of the sacred teaching authority, in faithful and respectful obedience…”  The lay faithful are guided by the Spirit, and, under obedience to the Magisterium, are kept in the truth so that what is believed about God, faith, and morals is not simply a matter of opinion, but is protected by the Holy Spirit as true and right. 

            Does this mean that the Church has every detail figured out?  Certainly not.  There are still prudential decisions to apply the truth to everyday situations.  But these decisions should not simply be based upon opinions, as if we decide what is right and wrong, but should be based upon the principles of faith and morality which are united to the Spirit of Truth.

            The gift of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth, is a great gift of Jesus to His Body, the Church, because it saves us from the endless babbling of opinions on what should be believed and how one should live.  There are so many voices that tell us that we should believe this or do that because they know better.  Even some Christian ecclesial communities have started to reject the parts of Scripture that do not fit modern “sensibilities.”  In the midst of this babbling, we have a sure guide in the Pope and the Bishops united with him who are protected from preaching error in matters of faith and morals because of the gift of the Holy Spirit.  And the you, lay faithful are also given the Spirit to lead you to believe and to hold on to what is taught by the successors to the apostles.  Rather than being divided among our own opinions of what we think we should believe and how we think we should live, let us be united in the Spirit of Truth in the Church so that the Gospel may be proclaimed to every language under heaven.

Love One Another in the Truth

Sixth Sunday of Easter

            How fitting it is that, on Mother’s Day, love is one of the themes of the readings, especially of the second reading and the Gospel.  For many people, if asked to draw a personal representation of love, that representation of love would be a mother.  Mothers, out of love for their unborn children, bear the loving responsibility of protecting the child in the womb.  Mothers are often the ones to express love when a child is injured.  Mothers just seem to exude love.

            And so today, we hear the command of Jesus, repeated by St. John in his first epistle, to love.  In the Gospel, Jesus tells us: “‘This I command you: love one another.’”  And St. John repeats it in the second reading: “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God.”  Love is who God is, and love is made incarnate in Jesus, a love which mothers do their best to share with their children.

            St. Augustine is also quoted when it comes to love.  In Homily 7 on the First Epistle of John, St. Augustine writes, “Once for all, then, a short precept is given you: Love, and do what you will.”  In my life, I have heard many people use the phrase: Love, and do what you will.  Sometimes it’s used in a positive way.  Sometimes it’s used to defend any type of action.

            What does it mean to love?  If one of the most basic commandments of Jesus is to love one another, then to fulfill it we have to know what love means.  If we start with today’s Gospel, we see that Jesus explains one of the implications of love.  Jesus says, “‘Remain in my love.  If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love.’”  Love is rooted in obedience to Jesus and his commandments.  Love is marked by obedience to the One who is Truth.

            Truth is important with love.  Pope Benedict XVI entitled one of his Encyclicals with those two words of truth and love: Caritas in Veritate; Love in Truth.  The Holy Father points out that,

Without truth, charity [love] denigrates into sentimentality.  Love becomes an empty shell, to be filled in an arbitrary way.  In a culture without truth, this is the fatal risk facing love.  It falls prey to contingent subjective emotions and opinions, the word “love” is abused and distorted, to the point where it comes to mean the opposite.  Truth frees charity from the constraints of an emotionalism that deprives it of relational and social content…

So what does this mean practically?  It sounds nice in a theology paper, but what does it mean for the average person?  Well, Pope Benedict is talking precisely about the abuse of the word love, especially with St. Augustine’s quote, “Love, and do what you will.”  If we do not relate love to the truth that God reveals by reason and by revelation, then it stops being love. 

            We see how love is connected to truth in the response of our mothers, and other family members.  Some would say that love means giving every person what they want; that’s the most loving thing.  But the truth is that not everything we want is good for us.  How many times have children asked their mothers in the check-out line for a piece of candy, and a mother has refused because she knows the child does not need it?  The child may even throw a temper-tantrum to try to get its own way.  But the mother who loves her child knows that she cannot give the child everything it wants, because it will be bad for the child, not only in the present moment, but even in the long run.  Or the mother who grounds her child because he or she stayed out past curfew: is that any less loving?  Of course not!  It helps a child to learn that actions have consequences, and the consequences of disobedience are not fun.  That is certainly a loving act to help the child to grow and mature into the young man or woman that God has called that child to be.

            Most parents recognize how love works in principle.  They understand that what is truly loving is not always what makes their child feel good.  And yet, more and more, parents act like the principle does not apply to their child.  Their child is the exception to the rule.  Of course, eventually everyone’s child is the exception to the rule, so there becomes no rule at all.  Now, I’m not saying that you always have to let the hammer fall.  Often times mothers are great at knowing when a punishment is most loving, and when a child has already gotten the message and needs some leniency.  But more and more our society wants to separate love from truth so that you never have to tell a person “no,” or “you can’t,” or “you shouldn’t.”

            Jesus shows us what love truly is: love is sacrifice for the other.  Love means laying down your own life so that the other can live and thrive.  Jesus laid down his own life to give His people life, even though most of the people, including his disciples, abandoned Him.  He didn’t give them the Messiah they wanted, He gave them the Messiah they needed.  It’s not easy to live that love in the world.  When I walk the halls and I have to correct a child’s behavior, it’s tough to tell them that they might have to come in to school on Saturday because they crossed the line repeatedly or in a major way.  I’d rather not have to correct a child’s behavior.  I’d rather have the kids like me.  But if I truly love them, then I have to help them to know that a person cannot always give in to their desires, that being a man or woman means having self-control, that there are consequences to actions that people have to face, no matter how well intentioned they were.  Thank you, mothers, for your love.  Thank you for your sacrificial love which carried us for 9 months in the womb and continued afterwards.  Thank you for your love in truth.

Facebook Friends with Jesus

Fifth Sunday of Easter

            Stay connected: that’s what social media says it can do for you.  It tells you that if you use the site, then you can keep track of all your friends’ (and general acquaintances’) birthdays, see what they are up to, rejoice in their triumphs, weep with them in sorrow, and stay connected. 

            And yet, the social fabric of our society is very disconnected.  You can have 700 friends on Facebook, and not really have anyone with which to share truly personal details.  You can follow hundreds of people on Twitter, read all of their accomplishments, sing along with their mopey song lyrics after a break up, and retweet their hilarious messages, and not truly have a real relationship with that person.  Now don’t get me wrong: I have no problem per se with Facebook, Twitter, or social media.  But, what I have noticed is that as much as social media says that it connects people, there are way too many people who feel adrift, without a true friend in the world.

            So when Jesus tells us today in the Gospel, “‘I am the vine, you are the branches.  Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit,’” our idea of staying connected to Jesus might be a little skewed.  After all, we’ve liked that picture on Facebook that says, “If you share this picture with your friends, Jesus will acknowledge you in heaven,” and we’ve retweeted the tweet that says, “Retweet if you love Jesus; keep scrolling if you love Satan.”  So we’re connected to Jesus, right? 

            Jesus reminds us that, “‘Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless your remain in me.’”  Our life, especially our spiritual life, depends on our attachment to Jesus.  If we are connected, then we bear fruit.  If we are separated, then we die, just as a branch connected to the vine bears grapes, while the braches that have been separated from the vine die and are good for nothing other than fuel for the fire. 

            More and more as a society, we don’t know how to be connected with each other.  We try to fake it and take the easy way out.  We’re so busy, either with our own schedules, or those of our family, that we are losing the ability to stay in touch with each other, even when it’s our own families.  How long has it been since you had a nice, Sunday dinner, where you sat around the table and just spent time with one another: hearing about what’s going on, sharing jokes and funny stories, supporting each other in hard times?  Some families still do, and they tend to be happier families.  Too often, though, there’s a game on Sunday, or work to be done, and if the family eats at home, it’s whenever each person wants, not together, and is usually enjoyed while watching TV, so there’s no real conversation.  We run around, and get fast food, and are experts at doing lots of things.  But we have become novices at simply being together, which accounts for the deep feelings of loneliness and separation that exist, especially among our youth.

            And because we don’t know how to be connected in our human relationships, we also are lost in how to be connected in our spiritual relationships.  More and more people come to me and say, “Father, I feel like God has abandoned me.  I can’t feel anything from God.”  For some, this is due to the fact that they do not know how to be connected to God, other than the shallow connections that are as ubiquitous as the dandelions in a field of grass this time of year.  So let me suggest a few ways to be connected to Jesus.

1.     Carve out daily time for God.  We’re all busy, I know.  I often feel like I’m running from one thing to another.  But, I have found that the more I am able to set aside blocks of time: 30 minutes here, 5 minutes there, 15 minutes there, the more I can respond to the spiritual needs of the parish, because I am more connected to the vine, the life, the wisdom, the patience that comes from God.  Just like an iPhone, which cannot work very long without connecting the tether to an outlet, so our souls cannot be refreshed unless they are connected to God in daily talking and listening with Him.

2.     Follow the commandments.  In our second reading, St. John tells us that the way we know we belong to the truth—Jesus—is that we keep His commandments.  Do we follow the 10 Commandments, and the precepts of the Church?  Do we strive to live an honest life, putting God first, others second, and ourselves last?  And when we fail, as we all will, then return to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, to be re-grafted onto the vine of life.

3.     Enjoy Mass.  Now, you might think this is outside of your control.  Maybe you don’t like the homily; maybe you don’t like the music; maybe the pew’s not as relaxing as you would like; maybe you can’t stand that young priest.  But, while we can’t control the homily, the music, the pews, or the priest, we can come to Mass thanking God that we can set aside time to rest and relax in Him.  We can come to Mass at least 5 minutes early for silent prayer, and not leave Mass immediately after communion, rushing off to the next event, but make time to be with the Lord.  Vatican II taught that the Eucharist is the source and summit of the Christian life.  It is where we get our energy to be Christians and it orients us, if we are open, to the eternal liturgy of heaven where the angels and saints (and hopefully someday we will be saints) worship God.

4.     Read your monthly copy of FAITH Magazine, or check out or download a spiritual book, like The Lord by Romano Guardini, or Story of a Soul, by St. Thérèse of Lisiuex, or Peace of Soul by Archbishop Fulton Sheen, or To Whom Shall We Go? by Timothy Cardinal Dolan, or another Catholic book.  The soul is not separate from the body, and so feeding our mind with spiritual reading also feeds our souls. 

We live in a disconnected world.  We are so busy doing things with other people or for other people, that we have forgotten how to simply be with other people, including Jesus.  And no matter how many friends we have on Facebook; no matter how many followers we have on Twitter, we are not going to feel whole, to feel connected, unless we are united to Jesus the Vine.  Take time to spend with each other.  Make time for Jesus.  It will be the best investment you will ever make.  

"MSU Shadows"

Fourth Sunday of Easter

            In the Diocese of Lansing, we are blessed with a number of institutions of higher education: I grew up learning the Spartan Fight Song from my parents, both proud alumni of MSU.  Others learn “Hail to the Victors,” or “Eastern Eagles,” from EMU, or “Charge On” from Hillsdale College.  And each has its own power to move hearts.  But, for my money, there is no more beautiful Alma Mater (if a non-alumnus can say this) than “MSU Shadows.”  Every time it’s played it evokes in me a feeling of home and connection, family and friends, and I can only imagine how those who graduated from MSU feel when it’s played.  It even surpasses, dare I say it, the Alma Mater of my alma mater, Sacred Heart Major Seminary, written by then-Fr. Earl Boyea, entitled “Cor ad Cor.”

            Even in our very transient culture, where people not only move city to city, but State to State, or even country to country for jobs and opportunity, there is something about the feeling of home that resonates in us all.  Home, not just a house, means stability, love, warmth, and family.  That is why violence done to a home with a wrecking ball, or even sadder, violence done in a home, wrenches us at our core.  Homes should be safe.

            Jesus today in the Gospel refers to Himself as the Good Shepherd.  He knows His sheep, and his sheep know Him.  He protects them, and even lays down His life for them.  He will not suffer wolves to enter the pasture where His sheep graze, but will do whatever it takes to give His flock life.  It is as if Jesus is setting up the green pastures, of which Psalm 23 speaks, as a home where all His sheep can feel at ease, safe, protected, and loved.

            The pasture that Jesus protects is His Church, His community of disciples.  This is our home.  This is where we are loved, nurtured, and protected.  It’s a large flock, but Jesus knows each of us by name, and we are called to grow in our knowledge and love of the Good Shepherd each day.  In order to be safe, though, we must stay close to Him.  There are too many wolves that would love to devour the sheep.

            Some of you are here for the last time today.  You’ll be taking final exams this week, and then graduate.  You have called East Lansing home, perhaps for four, or five, or six years.  You have made many friends, gone to many football and basketball games, laughed, cried, and made East Lansing your earthly home.  This building has become your spiritual home with its own unique memories.  But some of you are moving on to other cities, other States, other countries even.  You will try to establish a new earthly home where you can feel loved, appreciated, and secure.

            I can tell you that the best way to really establish a new earthly home, is by finding another “outlet,” if you will, of your spiritual home.  Because it’s not really this building that’s your home.  This building, as important as it is to have a sacred space set aside for the worship of God, could not exist, and you could still be home, because your home is the Catholic Church.  And wherever you move, find the nearest Catholic Church, and get acquainted with the community there.  It won’t be exactly the same, but the Good Shepherd is, no matter where you go, what type of music is played at Mass, who you know, or how big or small it is.  The Good Shepherd will be waiting for you, to welcome you home to the place where He is pleased to dwell. 

            The wolves of temptation will be circling, trying to convince you that you should worry about making tons of money first, or getting acquainted with other places, or just easing the stress of a new place by plopping down in front of the TV instead of going to Mass.  And Jesus the Good Shepherd, will do all that He can through your conscience to remind you that your home is with Him, not with the TV, or the money, or the stores.  He gives you safety and love, not the created goods.  The Good Shepherd has gone so far as to lay down His life for you to show you how much He wants you and loves you.  But He who did not ask you to create you, will not force His love on you without your permission.  If you, the sheep, wish to leave home and wander among the brambles, then He loves you enough to let you wander away.  But know this, He will be right behind you, ready to lead you back home to safety if you call on Him.

            All of us: graduating students, students who will return next year, professors, and all present here, we all know about the wolves.  We even know about the hired hands who will try to convince you that they’re pulling you away from the Church and from your faith for your own good because they love you.  But only Jesus never abandons you when danger comes, or when you’re all alone with no safety, no comfort, no peace.  Only the Good Shepherd stays with His sheep no matter what.  The hired hands run away.  The wolves will only stay as long as they can feed on you. 

            In a few months new freshmen will move in the dorms.  Soon-to-be sophomores and juniors and seniors will crowd the streets.  Students and alumni of all ages will gather at Spartan Stadium.  And at that first game, whether we win or lose (hopefully we win!), the band will play “MSU Shadows,” reminding all that they’re home.  But whether you’re in East Lansing or Ann Arbor, in Michigan or Montana, in the United States or Uzbekistan, stay with the Church, stay with the Good Shepherd, and no matter what hymns are sung, no matter what the building looks like, no matter who the priest is, you will be home.  

Recognizing Jesus

Third Sunday of Easter

            I remember that about a year and a half ago, when I was out of the State, I was walking around, minding my own business, when a person shouted, “Hey, Fr. Anthony!”  I turned and looked, saw the person who shouted, and, more or less, stared at them, trying to recognize who it was.  They came up to me, and they must have seen the gears in my head spinning, trying to figure out who they were, and so they introduced themselves…again.  It turns out it was a family I had known from an earlier parish assignment.  How embarrassed I was at not recognizing them, but they were out of the context with which I usually associated them!

            We hear about that same confusion today in the first reading and the Gospel.  In the first reading, St. Peter is explaining how Jesus is the Messiah for whom the Jews had been waiting.  But they didn’t recognize him, because their view of the Messiah was different from how Jesus presented Himself.  Jesus was out of the context that they were expecting.

            And in the Gospel today, Jesus has to convince the disciples that He’s not a ghost.  They were not expecting to see Jesus in His glorified body.  This is even more surprising when we consider that this passage happens right after Jesus reveals Himself to the disciples at Emmaus in the breaking of the bread.  And yet, the disciples were still not expecting Jesus.  He has to show them His wounds, and then eat something.  Jesus was out of the context that they were expecting.

            But Jesus explains clearly, as does St. Peter at Pentecost, that all of the teachings of Moses and the prophets and the psalms refer to Him and what the Messiah would have to undergo.  The Word of God, the Scriptures, bears witness to who the Word of God, Jesus, is.

            Two weeks ago, amid cries of “Hallelujah!” I challenged us to get to know Jesus better through Bible studies, the “Catholicism” DVD series, youth group, and many other ways.  Have we taken that Easter joy and run with it, or did we leave that joy at the doors of the Church?  St. Jerome, who translated the Bible from Hebrew and Greek into Latin, famously said that ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.  Based upon that formula, do we know Christ?  Do we know the Scriptures?  Knowledge of Scripture is usually associated with our Protestant brothers and sisters, but the Bible is our family story, a gift of Christ to His Church.  Does that mean we all need to get started on memorizing the whole book?  No.  But it does mean that we should be able to talk about our main stories of faith, how they relate to Jesus, and how they apply to our daily lives.  Some of that is provided here at Mass through the readings and the homily.  But to truly know Christ through the Scriptures, we cannot rely only on coming to Mass each Sunday. 

            Another opportunity is through adult catechesis and formation.  We have a full time staff member, Al Weilbacher, whose job it is to create and promote opportunities for adults to learn the faith in an adult way.  We’re not talking about sitting at a desk, being lectured by a teacher, but by opening the Word of God, studying the teachings of the Church, and seeing how they intertwine with your life.  It’s not enough to simply drop off the kids at the school each weekday, or drop off the kids at Religious Ed each week or attend the confirmation sessions, for the adults here.  For the kids, its not enough that you attend a Catholic school or attend religious ed. classes.  That’s only the beginning.  Adults and children alike can and need to continue to grow in the understanding of how Christ makes Himself present to us.  If you are an adult and interested or have ideas about how this best can happen, make sure you give Al a call or email him.  For students, contact Michael Renauer, our director of youth ministry.

            When we do continue the lifelong mission of recognizing Christ, we are not surprised to find Him in new places.  When we read the word of God regularly and learn about the teachings of the apostles through their successors, the bishops, we come to see how all of the things that belong to the Catholic faith are connected to and prepare us for seeing Christ in our daily lives, and being prepared to see Him at the end of our life.

            On the other hand, if we do not continue the lifelong mission of recognizing Christ, then when He does appear to us, we will miss Him and the graces He wants to give us to help us celebrate life more, and help us through the times of trial and pain and loss so that they do not overwhelm us. 

            When we study Scripture and the teachings of the Church, we get a better view of Jesus and who He really is.  It’s all too easy, and I know this from my own life, to think that Jesus is just a trumped-up version of me.  It’s much easier to think that Jesus is as strict, or as wishy-washy, or as tender, or as stoic as we are.  It’s much easier to pretend that Jesus has to fit us.  But, that’s the problem that St. Peter tried to address to the Jews: they were waiting for a military king who would expel the Romans and restore the Kingdom of David.  Instead, if they changed their views to fit with who Jesus is, as was promised in the Scriptures, they would see that Jesus was the Only-Begotten, Son of the Father, Suffering Servant, Friend of Sinners Messiah who had to suffer, die, and then rise from the dead to save us, not from a foreign power, but from the power of sin and death. 

After St. Peter’s speech, 2,000 more people came to recognize Jesus and believe that He truly was the Messiah, and they changed their lives to believe in the one about whom the Scriptures spoke and the apostles preached.  Will we, the people of this parish, this Diocese, and all who watch the Outreach Mass commit ourselves to studying the Scriptures and the teachings of the apostles and bishops, so that we can recognize Jesus Christ as He makes Himself known to us?

Go and Announce the Joy of the Lord!

The Resurrection of the Lord--Easter Sunday

            “Unless you become like little children, you cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”  If you’re wondering if you fell asleep during part of the Gospel and missed that part, don’t worry.  Those words of Jesus weren’t in today’s Gospel passage.  But, these words are Easter words which we need to hear today.

            Have you ever noticed that a child, when there’s really good news, can’t help but tell someone?  The child acts as if keeping that good news would cause that child to explode!  Maybe the child got a new puppy.  Maybe the child just received tons of chocolate for Easter, or the much-desired present for Christmas.  But that child has to tell someone!  We adults have learned more how to control our emotions, and so it doesn’t effect us as much, but if something great happens, even adults have a hard time holding it in.  Imagine if you would have won that half a billion lottery.  I’m sure you would have told someone.  I sure would!  Or maybe you got a promotion, or won a raffle, or got a new car.  We want to share.  It’s as if that joy inside of us would cause us to explode.  We just have to tell someone!

            Today we celebrate the greatest news ever: the tomb is empty!  Christ has risen!  Death has died!  Sin is vanquished!  Hallelujah!!  Fast forward 50 days from that first Easter to Pentecost, when the apostles received the fullness of the Spirit, and St. Peter cannot hold it in: “‘This man God raised on the third day and granted that he be visible...[and] everyone who believes in him will receive forgiveness of sins through his name.’”  The apostles and disciples are so excited on that day, that everyone assumes they’re drunk!  But the only wine which inebriated them that day was God’s Word and the fulfillment of His promises, what St. Thomas Aquinas calls the new wine of the spirit.

            And so today, faced with this great joy, we should be bursting at the seams!  The joy of knowing that Christ has won and death is no more should be inside us, ready to explode out of us.  Christ’s resurrection means that for those who pass through the cross and remain faithful and obedient to God, as was Jesus, there is a new life awaiting them with no sorrow, no tears, no pain, and a glorified body which is no longer bound by the limits of this earthly domain.  Disease has lost.  Hatred has lost.  Darkness has lost.  Jesus Christ, the way, the truth, and the life, the light of the world, the embodiment of love, has won.  This is a greater joy than winning the lottery, or a new car, or a promotion.  But are we childlike enough to not hold this joy in? 

            Now, I’m a pretty stoic guy.  I’m not one to show a lot of emotion.  But sharing our joy in Christ does not only mean that we are always smiling.  There’s a lot on earth at this time that, if we think about it enough, would probably make us want to cry.  But there’s a confidence that we should have in knowing that anything which is not in Christ will pass away, and will receive it’s final destruction when Christ comes again to establish, once and for all, his total dominion.  This joy that we have means that when we see sorrow and suffering, we want to bring Christ; when we see another walking in darkness, we want to bring light; when we see another oppressed by the chains of hatred, we want to share with them the freedom of God who is Love. 

            I saw that joy on senior day for the MSU Men’s Basketball team.  Now, remember, we lost to Ohio State.  We didn’t play our best.  There was a lot to mourn.  But Austin Thorton let that joy explode out of him when, after being asked to share a few words, began with, “I’d first like to thank my personal Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”  That’s a man who knows the joy of the resurrection, a joy he wants everyone to experience, a joy which he could not keep to himself.  That’s the leaven that St. Paul calls us to be in society, a leaven of sincerity and truth which makes the whole lump of dough rise to Christ. 

            Of course, to share that joy, we have to have it ourselves.  And the only way we get that joy is by knowing Jesus personally.  Evangelicals often ask this question, but really it belongs to us Catholics: Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?  Do you know Him?  Do you love Him?  If not, what are you doing to change that?  By joining a Bible study, a faith sharing group, reading Matthew Kelly’s Rediscovering Catholicism, or watching the “Catholicism” DVD series, we can grow leaps and bounds in that joy that the apostles had.

            In first century Rome, Nero blamed the Christians for the fire of Rome which he started, and the mob went along with it.  St. Paul was beheaded with a sword.  St. Peter was crucified upside down.  Other Christians were doused in tar, attached to large poles, and set ablaze to light the evening streets.  Fast forward 1500 years, and some of the first Christians on our continent, the Jesuit missionaries, endured their fingernails being pulled out, their right hand being chopped off, having boiling water poured over them, and being scalped.  They didn’t endure this because they had some inner strength that we don’t have.  They endured it because of the joy of the resurrection, the joy of knowing Christ, and realizing that nothing was more important than fidelity to God and sharing that joy with others.

            As Deacon Mike mentioned here on Good Friday, Bishop Boyea recently released his first pastoral letter to our diocese, calling for all of us to share the Good News, the joy of Jesus by what we do, by what we say, by how we live our lives, by what we make important.  We come to Mass each week, not to get our Catholic calisthenics of standing, sitting, standing, and kneeling, but to return to Church to celebrate each Sunday as a little Easter; to remind ourselves in what we should have our joy; and to be strengthened by each other, by the Word of God, and especially by the Eucharist: the Body and Blood of the same Jesus who died to save us from sin and rose from the dead. 

            “Unless you become like little children, you cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”  Do we have the heart of a child so that we cannot wait to tell someone who doesn’t know the joy of the resurrection?  Because the tomb is empty!  Hallelujah!  Christ has risen!  Hallelujah!  Death has died!  Hallelujah!  Sin is vanquished!  Hallelujah!  Go and announce the Gospel, the joy of the Lord.  Hallelujah!!

Hammering in the Nails

Palm Sunday of Passion of the Lord

            We began Holy Week by hearing how Jesus entered triumphantly into His city, Jerusalem.  Shortly afterwards, we recalled in the Gospel how Jesus was then mocked, stripped, and crucified for our salvation.  What a stark contrast in a short amount of time.  What a short time it must have seemed for Jesus between the original Palm Sunday and Good Friday.

            How fickle the crown of God’s creation can be.  How easily swayed we are by excitement…and fear.  With the celebration of the Passover in the background, with tens of thousands of pilgrims coming to Jerusalem, the Jews welcomed Jesus.  With the pressure of the Chief Priests, the Scribes, and the Sadducees, the Jews condemned Jesus for blasphemy.  The King of Glory who entered His capital with shouts of “Hosanna” was made to reign upon the Cross with shouts of “Hail the King of the Jews” in mockery. 

            Because we have become so used to seeing Jesus on the cross in artistic renditions of the crucifix, we can easily become numb to its reality.  Death by crucifixion was a death of suffocation, the lungs filling with fluid, making it harder and harder to breathe.  The only way to get a breath was to use the hands and feet to push oneself up, which only increased the pain where the nails were.  It was a horrible, painful death, filled with shame and derision.

            In the face of such suffering, we can all too easily think that we would never have been part of the crowd crucifying Jesus.  We would not be so easily swayed.  We might even say with St. Peter, “‘Even though all should have their faith shaken, mine will not be.’”  But we would be wrong.  All of us—from Pope Benedict XVI to me and you—have all helped to hammer in those nails into Jesus’ hands and feet.  All of us stand guilty.

            If we lie to another, the hammer falls.  If we swear and curse and take the Lord’s name in vain, the hammer falls.  If we totally ignore the poor standing on the corner; if we make decisions based on prejudice and racism; if we fail to see Christ in those around us, the hammer falls.  If we think first of ourselves and never of others; if we skip Mass because we don’t make time for the Lord; if we react to our parents, children, or family members with anger rather than responding with love, the hammer falls.  If we ignore the Church’s teaching on human sexuality, marriage, and contraception because we feel we’re more enlightened; if we support organizations or ideologies that allow for an innocent child in the womb or an elderly or ill person to be put to death because they are inconvenient to our way of life; if we support the objectification of men and women through pornography, the hammer falls.

            All of us who can make a moral choice have been in that fickle mob that first hailed Jesus on His entry into Jerusalem, and then mocked him by hailing Him on the cross.  All of us have helped hammer in the nails into Jesus’ hands and feet.  All of us have sinned, and fallen short of the glory of God.  We made Jesus cry out from that cross “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” as Jesus felt the weight of our sins. 

            Since we have forced Jesus to walk that dark pilgrimage to the crucifixion, let us not abandon Him this week.  Though we ran away with the apostles in the garden 2,000 years ago, let us accompany Jesus this year, this week, these days as the Church celebrates our salvation in Christ: to the upper room on Holy Thursday to celebrate the Last Supper; from the upper room to the Garden of Gethsemane to keep watch in prayer; from Gethsemane to Golgotha on Good Friday; and because death and sin do not have the final word, from Golgotha to the empty tomb for the Easter Vigil or the Easter Sunday Mass.  We began Holy Week today in joy.  Let us also end it in the joy of those who, having repented of their sins and confessed them to the Lord, have been washed clean in the blood of the Lamb.  “Come now, let us set things right, says the Lord: Though your sins be like scarlet, they may become white as snow; Though they be red like crimson, they may become white as wool.”