"Be Watchful! Be Alert!"

First Sunday of Advent

            Last Sunday I shared with you that I was hit on my way to a dentist appointment in Williamston, and my car was beat up pretty bad.  I was very blest that there was really no damage to my person, and I was able to walk away from the crash; and, after making sure there were no injuries at the ER of Sparrow Hospital in Lansing, I have been pain free since last Monday.  What I didn’t share then is that I had called Shelly in our office (handsfree to be safe!) just to check on a couple of things on my way to the dentist’s office, and Shelly told me, “Drive safely!”  For whatever reason, after hanging-up, I remember thinking: ‘If I died in a car crash today, at least the last thing I would have done was say Mass [at 8 a.m.].’  But then I remember thinking that I shouldn’t be so melodramatic. 

            Obviously I didn’t die!  But since then, not having a scratch on me, and seeing the way the front end of the car looked, my mind has often returned to how different things could have been for me.  In a similar set of circumstances, I’m sure there are people who have not been able to crawl over to the passenger side of the vehicle and climb out.  I’m sure that many people have had broken noses and bruising on their faces.  But I am not one of them.  I escaped from that traumatic event with a small scrape on below my knee and a sore neck for two days; in essence, no real pain or trauma. 

            But when I saw this Gospel passage, and read Jesus saying, “‘Be watchful!  Be alert!  You do not know when the time will come.’” it certainly hit me differently this year than it has before.  If just a few of the details of the crash would have been different, I might have been buried from my first assignment as the sole priest. 

            I could also connect with the first reading from Isaiah: “Would that you might meet us doing right, that we were mindful of you in our ways!  […W]e are sinful; all of us have become like unclean people, all our good deeds are like polluted rags.”  What a joy it would have been to know that the last thing I did was provide Jesus to His people!  What a comfort to know that, for all my sins, my last deed was uniting people to the Blood of Jesus which cleanses us from sin and death!  Maybe it will still be that way.  Priests often hope that the last thing they do on earth is celebrating a sacrament with people, what we in the trade refer to as “dying with our boots on.”  But, as the Prophet Isaiah reminds us, even our good deeds are not enough.  Nothing we can do can earn our way into heaven.  It is Christ who welcomes us into heaven, if we have followed Him to the best of our ability as disciples.  And we know neither the day nor the hour. 

            Staying awake for a long time is hard.  Keeping our attention when it seems like we can slack off can sometimes feel impossible.  But that is what the Lord calls us to.  He calls us to always be people ready for judgment.  He calls us to be “gatekeepers…on the watch.”  My recent car episode has reminded me of that.  And it leads me to ask a question to you and me: what did you do before you came to Mass?  If, God-forbid, you would have died on your way here this morning, what would be the last thing that you did?  Did you yell at your children or embrace them?  Did words of love emanate from your mouth or words of hate?  Did you look down on the homeless man walking along the street, or pray that he may find shelter and a job?

            One of the posts on Facebook in response to the pictures of the car post-crash was from the diocesan Master of Ceremonies, Deacon Tom Fogle.  He wrote, “God has more plans for you if you were able to walk away from this without injury.”  Maybe Deacon Tom just wants me to help him more around the diocese with Masses the Bishop celebrates.  But God does have a plan for my life.  And He has a plan for your life.  And the only person who can really mess with that plan is me; is you.  We are the only ones who can derail that purpose for which God put us on the earth, no matter whether that plan was for a short time, like the sad situation when a child dies in the womb, or whether that plan was for 80 years.  Not even the devil himself can truly stop the plan of God in our life as long as we are willing to cooperate with God.  Bl. John Henry Cardinal Newman put it this way:

God has created me to do Him some definite service.  He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another.  I have my mission.  I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next.  I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons.

He has not created me for naught.  I shall do good; I shall do His work.

I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments.

Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away.  If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him.  If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him.  He does nothing in vain.  He knows what He is about.  He may take away my friends.  He may throw me among strangers.  He may make me feel desolate, make my spirit sink, hide my future from me.  Still, He knows what He is about.

            We may not know what God has specifically intended for us.  But we know we are called to follow Him in all things.  We also know that our time is short, especially compared to eternity.  Jesus was not melodramatic.  So may we take seriously the serious words of Jesus: “‘Be watchful! Be alert!’”

The End is Near!

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

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

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

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

           

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

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

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

Filling a Niche in the Temple of God

Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome

St. Peter

St. Simon

 One of my great blessings in life has been to travel to Rome several times.  I first went there through a study abroad program when I was a junior in college.  My most recent trip was in 2013.  Each time I go, I try to stop by all four of the Patriarchal Basilicas: St. Peter, St. Paul Outside the Walls, St. Mary Major, and St. John Lateran.  In that last basilica, the Pope’s cathedral church, whose dedication we celebrate today, there are huge niches going up the nave of the church.  And in each niche is a larger-than-life marble statue of the apostles: Peter with a book and the keys of the kingdom of heaven; Simon with a book and the saw by which he was martyred; St. Jude with a spear; St. Paul with a book and the sword by which he was martyred; St. James the Greater with the pilgrim’s staff; St. Thomas with a carpenter’s square; St. Philip with a cross and stepping on a dragon; St. Matthew with a large book and standing on a bag of money; St. Bartholomew with a knife and his flayed skin (the tradition of how he was martyred); St. James the Lesser with a small book and a staff; St. John with a book and eagle; St. Andrew with the style of cross that bears his name.  All of these statues add to the grandeur of the pope’s cathedral, and I’m always in awe and inspired every time I go to visit.  It is refreshing to see these princes of the church and think about the effect that these twelve, mostly uneducated, men had on the history of the world!

St. Jude

St. Paul

            St. Paul reminds us that we are the temple of God.  As I mentioned when we celebrated our own anniversary of the dedication of this church, we are the living stones which make up the temple of God, and we all have a role in helping each other, because no one stone alone makes a grand building.  But today, as we celebrate the Dedication of St. John Lateran, I would like to encourage us to think of the temple of God as having niches which are ready for each of us.

St. James the Greater

St. Thomas

            The first thing we have to do is fill that niche.  The apostles didn’t get their large, marble statues for running away at the crucifixion.  They got those statues because after they ran away they came back.  And they preached Jesus all throughout the known world and invited others to follow Jesus and change their lives to the way that Jesus wants us to live.  All but one died for this proclamation.  Even the one who was not martyred, St. John, died in exile on Patmos.  If we wish to fill the niche of the heavenly Jerusalem, the temple of the Lamb, with our persons, then we too are called to follow Jesus, even if we have abandoned Him before, and proclaim Him to others, inviting them to follow Jesus.

St. Philip

St. Matthew

            To often, though, our “statues” are covered with cobwebs, dirt, dust, and filth.  And it’s at those times that Jesus has to come in and clean us off.  There are two ways this happens: the good way, where God invites us back to Him and we respond, confessing our sins to God through the priest in the Sacrament of Penance, and allowing God to take a warm rag to clean us off; or the bad way, where God, who had still invited us to return to Him, respects our free will to choose against Him, and allows us to choose Hell over Him, assigning that niche to someone else.  I’m sure we want to occupy the niche that was made for us, and yet how often do we neglect to make regular confessions?  Advent is coming up, and many people go to the communal penance liturgy where we have multiple priests, but adults should go at least four times per year.  I myself confess every few weeks, for the forgiveness of my sins, and to grow in holiness, and make sure that I will fill that niche that God has set aside for me in His temple.

St. Bartholomew

St. James the Lesser

            The second thing is to imagine what item would be associated with us?  What item would represent our life, as so many of the statues have items that represent their deaths?  Maybe it’s a telephone because we call our friends and family to make sure they’re doing well.  Maybe it’s cooking utensils because we volunteer at funeral luncheons, breakfasts, or dinners.  Maybe it’s a rake or shovel since we help out with cleaning the church grounds or the cemetery.  Maybe it’s a book because we teach others about God or write about God.  The options only depend on how we life our lives as disciples of God, and what we do to further the Kingdom of God. 

St. John

St. Andrew

            God has set a place aside for us in His heavenly temple.  We won’t be marble statues, but we will be adding to the beauty of the temple of God and offering Him constant worship.  By following Christ, we will gain a spot in the heavenly Jerusalem, and will gladden that city of God, the holy dwelling of the Most High, because we will be where He created us to be: in heaven with Him.  But let’s make sure that we get there, because the road is narrow to salvation, and wide to perdition.  Only by doing our best to stay, all of our life, on that straight and narrow path, and then returning to God to confess our sins when we stray, will we be able to enjoy a place in the temple of God and truly be a masterpiece, even more awesome than the apostle statues at St. John Lateran.  

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?