Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven

Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed

           

Kenny Chesney, the country singer, wrote a cute song entitled “Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven.”  Perhaps you’ve heard it.  Like many country music songs, the lyrics are really what make it so great:

Preacher told me last Sunday mornin

“Son, you better start livin right

You need to quit the women and whiskey

And carrying on all night

Don’t you wanna hear him call your name?

When you’re standing at the pearly gates?”
I told the preacher, “Yes I do

But I hope they don’t call today.

I ain’t ready.”

Everybody wants to go to heaven

Have a mansion high above the clouds.

Everybody wants to go to heaven

But nobody want to go now.

The song continues:

I said, “Preacher maybe you didn’t see me

Throw an extra twenty in the plate

There’s one for everything I did last night

And one to get me through today.

Here’s a ten to help you remember

Next time you got the good Lord’s ear.

Say I’m comin but there ain’t no hurry

I’m having fun down here.”

Now, if this is the mentality of most of you today, I’ve got my work cut out for me in this parish!!  But while we probably don’t think of all these things, there is a sneaky way in which these lyrics, or some of them, may ring true.  First and foremost, we all probably want to go to heaven.  If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.  But, it’s all too easy to think that we can live a double life as a Christian: we sin all we want, and then try to buy our way into heaven with a last big donation or a last-ditch effort at living on the straight and narrow. 

            Jesus says in our Gospel, “‘Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and I will not reject anyone who comes to me…And this is the will of the one who sent me, that I should not lose anything of what he gave me, but that I should raise it on the last day.’”  This is sounding pretty good!!  We’ve been baptized, we belong to the Father, so we must go to heaven (unless we’re Hitler or Osama bin-Laden).  Jesus isn’t going to lose us, and if we come pleading at the last minute, Jesus will not reject us. 

            St. Paul, too, gives us lots of hope: “Are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?  We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might have newness of life.”  Baptized into death? Check!  Share in the resurrection? Check!  Sounds good!!  But if everyone is in heaven (except the really evil people who are in hell, the exceptions to the rule), then what in the world are we doing today?!?  Why would we take a day to pray for All the Faithful Departed?  And why would this day trump our usual Sunday of Ordinary Time celebration?

            Jesus and St. Paul give us the answer.  Jesus later says, in this same passage, “‘everyone who…believes in him may have eternal life.’”  Belief is necessary.  But belief is proven through our actions.  That is why St. Paul has the conditional statement: “if we have grown into union with him through a death like his, we shall also be united with him in the resurrection.”  Our share in the resurrection is based upon how much we are sharing in the crucifixion.  Specifically, how much are we putting our sinful self to death? 

            We pray today, and the tradition of Catholics to have Masses said for the deceased (though they can be said for the living as well) should be continued, because we never know how much a person has died to their sinful self and so risen with Christ.  That’s easy to say for other people, right?  ‘Oh yeah, Mrs. Magillicudy?  She was a wonderful old woman, but she may have still had some sins that she was attached to.  It’s good to offer Mass for her.  But mom and dad, they were saints to put up with us!  There’s no way they didn’t go straight to heaven!’  I’m certainly not denying that our family members may be in heaven.  I hope they are!!  I think of a dear friend of mine from East Lansing, whom I called Uncle Bill.  He was, in the time I knew him, a saintly man, and his family told me about the great things he would do for the faith, including a daily rosary.  And I know that God is merciful and will not reject anyone who comes to him.  But I also know he was human, and probably had some sins, no matter how little.  So I, as well as his family, continue to offer Masses for the repose of his soul.  Until he’s canonized a saint, we never know for sure.  And if he is in heaven, then I know God will apply those graces to someone else who needs it more.  I’m sure that Uncle Bill will be in heaven long before me, but I’m not the judge of who gets into heaven and when, so I keep praying for him.  And that’s what we do today.  We pray for all of the faithful departed and ask God to receive them into heaven through the merits of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.  But, I want to encourage you not to leave praying for them only to the Mass.  There is a beautiful Catholic custom, and I know some of you here practice it, to pray for the souls of the faithful departed at each meal, or at least at dinner.  What a great thing to say, at the end of grace: May the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace.  Amen. 

            Everybody wants to go to heaven.  God wants us to be in heaven.  May our life on this earth, as well as our Mass and daily prayers, show God that our sinfulness has been crucified on the cross, so that we can rise with Christ to new life in the eternal happiness of the blessed.  Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.  May their souls and all the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace.  Amen.  

Duh-duh-dunt, Duh-duh-dunt

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            If you are in college or professional sports, there are six sounds you want to hear: duh-duh-dunt, duh-duh-dunt.  That’s the little sound clip that plays on ESPN Sports Center when a great play has been made.  It’s the sign that the television sports authority has noticed what you have done.  And sometimes, in middle school or high school, teammates or fans will chant that little jingle to say that the previous play was amazing.

            In sports, as in much of life, we want to give credit when we something really good happen, and receive credit when we do something good.  It probably stretches back when our parents taught us to thank people or applaud when something great had happened, especially in certain contexts.  With the advent of Facebook and Twitter, that has certainly become much easier to click “like” or “share,” or “favorite” a particular tweet.

            The disciples of the Pharisees along with the Herodians (those who supported King Herod) tried to trap Jesus in today’s Gospel about the interaction between the state (what is Caesar’s) and the religion (what is God’s).  And many priests, especially at this time of year, preach on the principles that every Catholic should think and pray about as they approach the polls so that their vote truly advances what is good for every human person, especially as enlightened through the Gospel.  However, I want to focus, not on “‘repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,’” but on “‘and to God what belongs to God.’” 

            What does belong to God?  We probably certainly think about our gifts and talents: the things we do well.  But if those gifts and talents also helped us to get our job, then that is given to us by God.  We may think of our families: the place where we learned the faith and had the love of God made present in a very clear way.  Maybe sometimes you think that a particular sibling might be from the devil by the way they treat you, but they come from parents, who received their life from God, so they belong to God as well, and are not from Satan.  We could spend all day thinking about the things that we have that belong to God: life, home, family, pets, food, clothing, etc., etc., etc.  In summary, everything that we have is a gift from God.  Without God willing us into existence at each nanosecond, we would not be.  God gives us everything.  So if we are to give to God what belongs to God, then are we to give Him everything?

            St. Augustine and St. Thomas both examine the word religion, and where it comes from.  St. Augustine, though his is not the only explanation, tracks the word root from the Latin, ligare, to bind, just as ligaments connect bone to bone.  Religion is the virtue whereby we are bound to God, and, as St. Thomas notes, give God what is His due, which is why religion is considered an aspect of the virtue of justice.  God has given us so much, and so we are bound to give Him something back.  But what are we to give Him?

            The Prophet Micah asks this very question:

With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow before God most high?  Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?  Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with myriad streams of oil?  Shall I give my firstborn for my crime, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?  You have been told, O mortal, what is good, and what the Lord requires of you: Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.

Jesus expands on that when He says to give God what belongs to God.  But really, what more is there than justice, goodness, and humility?  Doing those things means that we are giving our all to God.  And we are giving our all to God the Father, who gave His Firstborn, His Beloved, not for His sin, but for ours!

            When we practice our religion, our faith, we are practicing giving God what is His due.  Part of that is coming to Mass each Sunday.  So often I hear the complaint, “But I don’t get anything out of Mass!”  Now, that’s patently false, because we get to hear the Word of God and, if we are in a state prepared to receive Holy Communion, we get to have union with the same Son of God who died for us to save us from sin and death!  But, and this may be more important, Mass isn’t about what we get out of it.  Getting something out of Mass as we do is simply, as the youth say, gravy.  Mass is the time when we get the opportunity to give back a little for the immeasurable amount He has given to us.  Yes, Mass may not always be entertaining (it’s not supposed to be), but is it too much to give God one hour each week to give Him worship, even if it’s not our favorite activity?  Or do we walk out immediately after Holy Communion simply because we’ve grown tired and have more important things to do, like go for breakfast at Big Boy, take a nap, and/or watch the Lions try to turn a great win into a bitter loss?  Sometimes there are legitimate reasons to leave early, but we should be careful lest those exceptions become the norm. 

            But our religion, our giving back to God what is His, does not end in this building.  What we do on Sundays is meant to inspire, nourish, and energize us to take to that faith, that religion, into our daily life.  Going to Mass is not the end of our faith.  It is only the beginning!  And by daily prayer, weekly reading Scripture, acts of kindness and charity, we give back a little to show God how much we appreciate the everything He has given us.

            This week, give back to God: read 1 chapter of Matthew’s Gospel; pray 1 Our Father each day; do one random act of kindness to a fellow employee or student.  God has given us everything.  What we will give Him in return?

Rebuild God's Church!

Solemnity of the Dedication of St. Joseph Church

            There is, perhaps, no more famous saint in the Church (after the Blessed Mother) than St. Francis of Assisi (though I would say that St. Anthony is a close third!), whose feast we celebrated last week.  Even non-Catholics often have a statue of St. Francis, surrounded with birds and animals, in their yard.  This saint is often misrepresented–domesticated, we might say.  As a priest I know once preached, if we started talking to animals and calling the sun our brother and the moon our sister, it wouldn’t be a man in white from the Vatican coming for us, but men in white coats to take us to a psychiatric ward.  Still, even amid the confusing stories that often get warped over time, there is one I want to focus on today, reported by St. Bonaventure, himself a spiritual son of St. Francis:

One day when Francis went out to meditate in the fields he was passing by the church of San Damiano which was threatening to collapse because of extreme age.  Inspired by the Spirit, he went inside to pray.

Kneeling before an image of the Crucified…he heard with his bodily ears a voice coming from the cross, telling him three times: “Francis, go and repair my house which, as you see, is falling into ruin.”

[…] He began zealously to repair the church materially, although the principle intention of the words referred to that Church which Christ purchased with his own blood, as the Holy Spirit afterward made him realize….

            When we think about the dedication of the church, we may think that what we are primarily celebrating is the physical structure that was consecrated by the Bishop of Detroit, Most Rev. Casper Borgess on 13 October 1878.  That is what our eyes see, just as St. Francis’ eyes saw the dilapidation of the church of San Damiano.  But, this church building itself is a symbol, a visible sign of an invisible reality, which is meant to remind us what St. Paul told us in the second reading: “in [Christ] you are also being built together into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit.”  We are the living stones and decorations of the temple of God, and God is making us into the heavenly temple of the new Jerusalem, “built upon the foundation of the Apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the capstone.” 

            The call that St. Francis heard in 1204 to rebuild the Church of God is still the call that echoes all these centuries later.  God is asking us to rebuild his church.  And he is not asking us to raise money to add on to the building.  God is asking us to be shaped into the living temple of God.  The call to rebuild the church of God is the call I am communicating to you today in the name of God!!  God’s church is in need of repairs, and we are the ones to repair it!!

            Since my arrival here in July, I have listened carefully to what people have told me about the parish.  So many people have used phrases like, “we used to…”, “years ago…”, “when Adrian was bigger…”.  My sense is that there is a great longing for the glory days of this parish, to return to activity, and joy, and a full church.  And I stand with you on that goal!!  There is no reason why this parish cannot be one of the greatest parishes in the Diocese of Lansing.  There is no reason why our parish cannot have glory days once more!!  We will do it, not for our own glory, but for the glory of God, and for the salvation of souls!!  But my excitement to do this is often rained upon by others when they remind me, as we all know too well, that the city of Adrian and its surrounding areas is in the midst of an economic downturn.  Money is not readily available.  And to that I say: that doesn’t matter!!  I’m not here to ask you for money.  I’m here to ask you to give your life to Jesus Christ!  Not just part of it, not just one hour on Sunday, but all of it!!  Because we are the temple of God.  Because we are, all of us, integral members of the Church of God.  And when we band together to support each other, there is nothing we cannot do if God wills it! 

            About a month ago, I saw the PBS special on the Roosevelts.  What came to my mind is that during the Great Depression, people didn’t have more than we have now.  In many cases they had less.  And yet, they were still able to do great things.  Not just because the government provided programs like the TVA, but because people wanted to be active and work for something greater than themselves.  As a Catholic family, here is our chance.  Right now we can band together to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ and become greater together than we are individually.  We are still important as individual members, but we become something greater when we band together, just as the individual bricks and stones of a building are important individually, but when put together in a particular way, builds this beautiful building in which we worship God. 

            But a thriving parish will only happen if we all band together.  A few of us cannot bear the entire burden.  We have volunteers, probably about 10% of the parish, who volunteer for about 90% of the work.  That is how burnout happens, and why people stop volunteering.   And that is when parishes start to die.  I’m not asking you to do it all.  I’m asking all of us to do a little and to use our gifts and talents to make this parish a place where we come to know and love the Living Lord, Jesus Christ, and to share that faith with others.  That is how we worship in spirit and truth.  That is how we build up the church of God.  Parishioners of St. Joseph: go and rebuild the church of God!!

Club or Family?

Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

In the 1990s, American Express had a slogan which was used to try and get people to obtain their credit cards.  That slogan was: “membership has its privileges.”  Some of us, many of us, probably belong to one sort of club or another which does give us certain benefits.  Membership at a Country Club means you can use their golf course and have access to their facilities.  Membership in some commercial clubs means you get perks for buying a particular brand or quantity of an item.  If you are a member of a frequent flyer program, eventually the miles you fly or the points you amass on your credit card can be used to get you a free trip to a certain location. 

It’s fun to be part of a club, and to receive those perks that you get from belonging.  Some people, though, have taken the mentality of belonging to a club into the church.  The church is just another social club to which they belong.  They were made members through baptism, and even though they didn’t get a card to show that they’re members, there are still perks to belonging.  Sure, the membership usually does have one day a year where all the members want to show that they belong: Ash Wednesday, when you get a black cross on your forehead to show that you’re a Catholic.  And many people today have the approach that their membership also gets them an exclusive suite in the heavenly condo association.  Of course, the flip of side of the social club membership approach to the church is that if you are unhappy or don’t like what is being said or done, you just move to a different social club that is more in line with what you want to receive in terms of rewards for membership.

This approach to our Catholic faith is poison!  It is detrimental to the entire church.  It is detrimental to our souls.  But it’s not new.  For the past two weeks and this week we hear Jesus talking to the Jews and telling them that just because they belong to a particular ethnicity and religion does not mean that their spot in heaven is assured.  I’m sure this wasn’t the approach of every Jew, but apparently there were enough people with this mentality that Jesus felt he had to address it, especially to the chief priests and the elders.  The slogan of Jesus for the past two weeks and this week, if we had to reword it, is: just because you are part of the Chosen People does not mean that you’re a shoe in for salvation.  All these other groups–tax collectors, prostitutes, pagans–are finding salvation because they accept Jesus as the Messiah. 

Today’s Gospel is almost exactly the same words as the passage from Isaiah that we heard in our first reading.  And the Jews would have known that pretty easily, especially the scribes and Pharisees.  And just as Isaiah was telling the caretaker of the vineyard, the Jews of his day, that they needed to actually care of God’s vineyard, so Jesus was telling the chief priests and the elders that they needed to stop killing God’s messengers who were sent to ensure the vineyard was being cared for properly, or else they would lose care of the vineyard themselves and others would be given the responsibility.  They would lose out on what they were supposed to have received.

The same message can be applied to us: baptism and membership in the church is not a “get out of hell free” card.  Just because we were baptized does not mean automatically that we are going to heaven.  It sets us on the path to heaven; it gives us help to get to heaven; it even facilitates the pilgrimage.  But it won’t get us there itself.  Baptism is the beginning of a responsibility to care for ourselves by growing in relationship with Jesus Christ, so that heaven feels like home by the time we die.  If we don’t follow through on that responsibility, then heaven will be foreign to us, and won’t be the place we want to go. 

Instead of a social club mentality, we should have the mentality that the church is like a family.  Being part of a family does carry with it some perks: we belong; we are loved; we may even have a rich family that provides us with a nice inheritance.  And as Catholics we do belong to God; we are loved by God; and God has set aside for us His grace and His life so that we can become more like Him.  And the more we are like Him, the more heaven seems like home.  But families are only as strong as long as they love each other.  And families can only love each other (at least in a real way) if they know each other. 

If we are going to be part of God’s family, then we need to know God.  And that doesn’t happen by sleeping with a Bible and Catechism under your pillow (which wouldn’t be very comfortable anyway!).  We might as well tell our students that to learn how to divide fractions, understand great works of literature, unlock the marvels of creation, play an instrument, or excel in sports, that they should sleep with a math book, Romeo and Juliet, a test tube, a saxophone, and a pair of cleats.  Knowing God happens by opening that Bible, reading who God has revealed Himself to be.  Knowing God happens by studying our faith.  Now, I know we’re all super busy.  And we certainly can’t do it all.  But more often than not, we probably do nothing.  And if we do nothing, then we don’t know God.  And if we don’t know God, then we’re not really being an active part of that family.  And if we’re not being an active part of that family, then God will respect our free will, but will find others who will care for the vineyard.  God will never turn us away, but he won’t force us to love Him, either.  The choice is ours.  Will we care for His vineyard?  Will we be an active part of God’s family?

A Different Side of Jesus

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            If you only see me at weekend Masses, your idea of my interests is probably a little skewed.  That’s not any condemnation of you or me, just probably a good presumption.  It’s not that I’m being disingenuous during Mass.  But the Mass is a formalized ritual: it has structure, a certain rhythm to it, and rules that are supposed to be followed.  And in formal situations, I embrace the formal.  Not just to be formal, but because the formal expresses a certain reality, that is an important part of our relationship with God.  The ritual nature of the Mass allows us not to wonder about what’s new this week, but allows us to go deeper into what we are celebrating.  If the Mass were noticeably different each week, we wouldn’t have the opportunity to go below what is perceived by our senses, and go to the things to which the sensible realities point.

            But I’m not always formal.  And that’s why, those who only see me at weekend Masses, are often very surprised to see me in boat shoes during the summer, or listening to country music (neither of which, I don’t think, could be categorized as formal).  The boat shoes are simply relaxing and cool me off during the warms months.  The country music moves my soul, and to me sounds more like life as I’ve experienced it (though I have not done everything you hear in country songs!).  There’s something about country that helps me enjoy a beautiful day while singing “Cruise” by Florida Georgia Line, or even helps me commiserate during sad times in life while singing “I Drive Your Truck” by Lee Brice.  Those who see me chant at solemn Masses would probably be surprised to see me enjoying a cold, adult beverage and singing at the top of my lungs at an Alabama or Scotty McCreery concert.

            Sometimes we can also get overly focused on only one perspective of Jesus.  This isn’t a bad thing in itself, but it’s important to recognize that Jesus has revealed Himself in many lights.  What do I mean?  I mean as we look at the Gospel, we see Jesus who welcomes the children, and the same Jesus calling the Pharisees and scribes a brood of vipers and whitewashed tombs.  As we look at the Gospel we see Jesus the just-judge reminding us that as we did to the least of our brothers and sisters, so we did to Him, and the same Jesus telling the woman caught in adultery that she is forgiven and only needs to go and sin no more.  Most people probably focus on one of those aspects (merciful or just, welcoming or challenging), when in fact, we miss who Jesus is if we do not acknowledge the other aspects of Jesus that do not come naturally to us.

            For example, we might think of Jesus as the perfectly fair one.  And there are times in Scripture where Jesus advocates giving each his due.  However, in today’s Gospel, His generosity is accentuated.  Jesus reminds us that God is generous with His love, which we cannot earn, and it doesn’t matter how long we’ve been at this disciple thing: God will continue to shower His love on us.  The workers who worked more expected more (which would be fair).  But Jesus’ teaches us about God’s generosity even to those who have not earned it.  For the first to be last and the last to be first does not quite seem fair.  But in this passage, Jesus emphasizes God’s generosity, not His fairness.

            The attributes of God that we tend to focus on also tend to be the things we want.  For one who knows he or she is not worthy of God’s love, the mercy of God is probably the sweetest part of the Gospel.  For one who wants the world to follow the plan of God and has worked hard to follow that plan, the consequences of sin is the best part of the Gospel.  Or, the attributes of God that we tend to focus on are a reflection of ourselves.  God just tends to look like a better version of us that legitimizes our own view points.  Someone once said that Jesus’ mission was to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.  Maybe that doesn’t quite do it justice, but the Gospel is meant to challenge all of us because while we can know who God is, we can never exhaust who God is.  There is always a way in which each of us needs to be challenged by God to grow in certain areas, and to be comforted by God to rest in Him in certain areas.  As long as we live, we are never done being challenged by God; we are never done being comforted by God. 

            That is why the Prophet Isaiah reminds us in our first reading: “Seek the Lord while he may be found.”  If we only look for God in the ways we are expecting, we will miss the many blessings and challenges that the Lord has in store for us to help us to grow in relationship with Him.  When I was in high school, I had a crush on a girl, and wanted a way to talk to her.  I found out she liked country music, and started to listen to it on my own.  My crush went away, but my love of country didn’t.  Because I was willing to try something new out of the desire for a deeper relationship, I was able to appreciate what is, in my opinion, the best form of music on the radio.  If we are willing to try something new for God–a Bible study, a new form of service, serving at Mass, joining the Knights of Columbus or CCW or the choir–who knows the truly great things that God has in store for us?!? 

            God has revealed Himself in Jesus, and we can truly know who God is, though we can never exhaust that knowledge.  Stretch yourself; get to know God in a way that you haven’t before.  Pray in a new way.  Seek the Lord while He may be found.  Call on Him while He is near.

Anchored to the Cross

Feast of the Triumph of the Holy Cross

            Just a couple of weeks ago my parents moved to a different house for the first time since 1988.  They didn’t move too far, only from Williamston, on the east side of Lansing, to DeWitt, on the west side of Lansing, but moving, no matter how far, is always an ordeal.  In early August we celebrated the August and September birthdays as the last time we were going to be at the old house as a family.  Some of the stuff was moved already, pictures were taken down, and there were lots of boxes.  Little things became more pronounced, knowing that I would probably never see this house again.

           

When we’ve been in one place a long time, we can overlook some of the real treasures that are right in front of us, because it’s always been there.  Take, for example, the stained glass window just east of the niche for the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe.  There’s a cross there.  I noticed that the first time I came in the church and was looking around at how beautiful everything is.  What I missed, and maybe you have too, is that the cross is on an island, and the waves are rolling around it, and there is an anchor attached to that cross.  I just noticed it earlier this week as I was preparing for this homily.

            The anchor is an ancient Christian symbol.  When the Christians were being persecuted, they didn’t want to give away who they were.  The anchor was a perfect way to show they were Christians, without giving it away to those who didn’t know.  The anchor has the cross in it, so they were professing that they were followers of Jesus, the crucified and risen one, but with a common symbol in use at the time. 

            The anchor was also a symbol of hope.  This may have been based on the Letter to the Hebrews that states, “This [hope] we have as an anchor of the soul, sure and firm.”  The anchor was also the hope for those who were sailing that they would remain where they were, where they knew they were safe, and not be tossed into shallow waters where they might run aground, or into deeper, uncharted waters, without any idea of where they were.

            It is fitting then, that the anchor is attached to the cross, because the cross is where we find our hope, and if we are attached firmly to the cross, then we do not need to worry about running aground and sinking, or getting lost on the wide-open seas.  Our goal, as Christians, is to be firmly holding on to the cross.  Now, that might seem odd to say.  Why would we say that the instrument of Jesus’ horrible death be our hope?  For the same reason that we call the Friday of the Lord’s Passion Good Friday: the cross, and Jesus attached to it, became the way that God made salvation available to us.  The curse (or malediction) of being nailed to the cross (as Deuteronomy 21 states), the curse that belonged by right to us, became the blessing (or benediction) of eternal life won for us by God-made-Man.  In the first reading, seraph serpents were the curse for the Israelites grumbling, but the bronze serpent lifted high for all to see became the way that the Israelites were healed.  Jesus alluded to that in the Gospel today, saying that the Son of Man was to become the new bronze serpent, lifted high for all to see.  Though killing God, deicide, which we continue to bring about by our sins, deserves the worst punishment of all, Jesus took our sins upon Himself, and, lifted for all to see, is the means of our reward.  We should have been damned to Hell for killing God, and yet we were offered eternal life in heaven instead.

            For us to gain that reward, we have to be anchored to Jesus.  Today we will baptize two infants.  We might wonder why we should make such a powerful choice for two persons who cannot speak for themselves.  Shouldn’t we wait to adulthood?  Shouldn’t they choose for themselves?  Many of our Protestant brothers and sisters do wait until the child is old enough to speak for itself.  We all know, too well, I would guess, the waves that want to throw us around on the sea of life.  We are tempted to greed and worship of money; to think that we are the center of the universe in pride; to tear down others with our words or actions; to misuse our gift of sexuality outside of marriage; and so many other temptations.  If we do not have an anchor, we will sink, or be thrown out into deep, uncharted waters.  If these children are not anchored to the cross, it will be so much more likely that they will be lost.  But, as an act of love, their parents are connecting them to Jesus by this Sacrament, and by the solemn promise they make to God and in our presence, that they will help their children to continue to cling to Christ by bringing them to Mass every week, by living a Christ-centered life, and by works of charity.  They are promising to strengthen the rope, with God’s grace, which is the connection between the cross and the anchor.  If the children and their parents stay close to Jesus, then the children will be ready for the Sacraments of Confirmation and the Eucharist, to which Baptism is also oriented. 

            We who have been fully initiated, who are striving to live that Christ-centered life, are also reminded of how we need to be anchored to the cross.  Maybe we have not fulfilled the promises at our baptism.  Maybe we’re not coming to Mass each week.  Maybe we’re greedy or prideful.  Maybe we tear down others with our words and actions.  Maybe we misuse our sexuality outside of marriage.  Maybe we don’t live our faith outside of the walls of this church.  The Sacrament of Penance, which we offer each week, is where Jesus Himself re-anchors us to the cross, so that we can be safe in His love.   Maybe, because we have grown up with Catholicism, we have forgotten the treasures that we have.  I invite you to re-anchor yourself to the cross, and find not condemnation and death, but blessing and life!

Power and Responsibility

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

           

On 28 August, I had the chance to attend Bishop Raica’s ordination as the fifth bishop of Gaylord.  It was a beautiful (and long) Mass with so many symbols of Christ’s abiding presence with us, especially in His Body and Blood, but also in the person of Bishop Raica, who now acts in the Person of Christ the High Priest and as a successor to the apostles with authority govern, sanctify, and teach. 

            I think we can get caught up with power and authority.  We want power, and we want it badly.  We want to control our own lives, our own destinies, and we want to be able to not have others exact that power over us.  No matter whether you have very little power or a lot, I think we all want to have more and more power.  When we look at the issue of power and authority in the Church, the scene is often expressed as a battlefield with the priests and the bishops on one side, and the laity on the other, trying to fight for control of power in the Church.  So often, when the question of why the Church cannot ordain women comes up, the argument quickly turns to power: power to teach the faith (as if we just make it up as we go along); power to decide where the money goes; power to administer the sacraments.  The question, not just from women, is often, “Why should an old man (though Bishops Boyea and Raica I’m sure would not think of themselves as old) be able to tell me how to live my life?”

            But our first reading reminds us that being named a watchman or shepherd is not about getting a cushy job.  True, there are fewer earthly concerns that I have to worry about: I have a house provided for me, a food allowance, and a certain job security.  But, Ezekiel tells us in the first reading that the shepherds that God has appointed have to worry about the lives of the sheep.  I may not have to worry about a roof over my head, but I have to worry about whether or not I am sufficiently helping people to grow in a relationship with God and to choose good and avoid evil.  St. Joseph is a relatively small parish in the Diocese of Lansing (673 parishioners or so on the books), but that’s a lot of people to care for!!  Ezekiel, prophesying in the Name of God, reminds the shepherds of Israel, the religious leaders, that if they do not warn the people to follow God, to choose good and avoid evil, then they, too, will perish for the sins the people commit, against which they were not warned.  The same holds true for me: if I do not, by my life and preaching, help you to grow closer to God, to choose good and avoid evil, then I will suffer punishment, too. 

            Bishop Raica, on his ordination card, quoted St. Augustine, who took up a similar theme.  And while St. Augustine was talking about being a bishop, the same could be said for a parish priest:

From the moment this burden, about which such a difficult account has to be rendered, was placed on my shoulders, anxiety about the honor shown to me has always haunted me. What is to be dreaded about the office I hold, if not that I may take more pleasure (which is so dangerous) in the honor shown to me than in what bears fruit in your salvation? Whenever I am terrified by what I am for you, I am given comfort by what I am with you. For you I am a bishop, but with you I am, after all, a Christian. The former signifies an office undertaken, the latter, grace; the former is a name for danger, the latter a name for salvation.



Being a priest is not about having a job with honors placed upon it; it is about helping you to gain salvation.  And for those who are only concerned about honor, a terrifying judgment awaits!

            But, Jesus reminds us in the Gospel that it is not only priests who have responsibility for each other.  All of us are called to help each other on the pilgrimage to heaven.  No longer are we to say, with Cain, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”  When someone sins against us, we are encouraged to deal with the issue ourselves, not as if we are judge and jury, but so that we might be able to bring reconciliation to the relationship.  We start just between the involved parties, then bring in witnesses if there is still no healing, and then, and only then, bring in the Church, to apply the wisdom of the entire Mystical Body of Christ so that reconciliation can be obtained.  I’m not in this alone.  Yes, I have certain responsibility as a priest to help guide you in living a Christ-centered life, but we all have a responsibility to help each other live that same Christ-centered life.  If it’s just me, I know I will fail.  But if we work together to encourage one another, and even to hold each other accountable, then the Kingdom of God can be proclaimed more effectively and with vigor in the great unity of our one faith, and the diversity of the People of God.

            I love being a priest!  I love being able to serve you, and hopefully drawing you closer to God.  Are there great responsibilities?  Yes.  To paraphrase Jesus, to whom much has been given, much will be expected.  But I wouldn’t trade it for the whole world!!  Do I love being a priest because of the power and authority?  No.  I love it because it is the way God has called me to serve Him, and, in serving Him, to serve you.  For you I am a priest.  With you I am a Christian.