Pyromaniacs for Faith

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Guys seem to have a universal reputation for being pyromaniacs, that is, obsessed with fire.  It may not apply to all men, and it may apply to some women, but generally the guys I know love lighting fires.  There is a special thrill that comes from getting some newspaper, small twigs, and a couple of logs to make a large fire, giving off heat and light.  Sometimes guys have to settle with the fire they create lighting a grill.  But generally, guys love fire.

I doubt that Jesus was obsessed with anything, other than doing His Father’s will.  Yet, maybe he really liked fire, too, as we heard Him say today, “‘I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!’”  But, as we all know, Jesus wasn’t talking about a bonfire.  He was talking about the heat and the light that come from the passion for God and His truth and love.

Sometimes we get a taste for this with other people in our lives.  We are approaching the beginning of school, which generally makes the students (and often the teachers) a little sad.  Yet, it can also be a time of great joy and excitement, especially when friends haven’t seen each much or at all during the summer.  Teachers know all too well about the chaos that ensues when two friends who haven’t really seen each other all summer get in the same room for the first time.  It is definitely fire-like!

Jesus wants that sort of intensity in our relationship with Him.  Now, as with fires, just because there are big flames does not mean the fire is super hot.  Some of the hottest fires I have made have been fires that no longer flame as much, but are white-hot coals.  Our relationship with Jesus doesn’t need to have lots of exciting moments to be strong.  Sometimes a strong relationship is one that doesn’t have lots of flames, but is more white-hot coals.  Still, when new fuel gets added to those white-hot coals, it can certainly create those exciting new signs of activity.

So how do we have a fire-like relationship with Jesus?  How do we quench Jesus’ thirst for the world to be on fire with His love and truth?  One way is prayer.  A few years back as a Diocese we prayed the prayer to the Holy Spirit.  The beginning of that prayer is: “Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful, and enkindle in them the fire of your love.”  How often do we pray to the Holy Spirit, using those words or others, asking Him to stoke the coals, or maybe add more fuel to the fire before it goes out?  How often do we ask God to make the fire of faith alive in us?

Another way to keep that fire of God’s love hot is to suffer.  We hear about that in our first and second readings today.  Jeremiah suffers for speaking God’s Word.  He’s even thrown into a cistern and starts to sink into the mud.  Now, we might not think of that as a way to help our relationship with God.  But think about your friends: are your best friends the one who are only with you in the good times?  Or are your best friends the ones who are with you no matter what, who are willing to be with you with life has got you down, and when others, or maybe even the world, seems to be against you?  The author to the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us to not grow weary or lose heart, because suffering perfects our relationship with God.  It is not a sign that God hates us; it is not necessarily a sign that we have done something wrong (though sometimes our sufferings come from our own sins).  But it is always a way that God is inviting us to trust Him more, and to remind us that, no matter how bad things get, He never abandons us, just as He never abandoned Jesus even as Jesus endured the cross.

In order to strengthen our relationship with God, we can also look to Mary, whose Assumption, body and soul, into heaven we celebrate tomorrow.  Mary always leads us to Jesus, and she shows us how to be a good disciple.  She shows us how to ponder God’s Word in our hearts, how to suffer with faith, and how to rejoice in the triumphs that God gives us.  How long has it been since you prayed a rosary?  Sometimes we think we don’t have time, but even just a decade is a good place to start.  I often pray the rosary as I’m driving from one place to another.  Or, if we pray the rosary regularly, are there other ways that we can strengthen our relationship with Jesus through Mary?  

Imagine if all of us, guys and gals, were as obsessed with our relationship with Jesus as guys tend to be with fire.  Imagine if we worked as hard to get our relationship with Jesus going as we did trying to get newspaper, twigs, and logs to burn.  If that were the case, the world would be a warmer and brighter place, not with climate change and light pollution, but with the warmth and light of God’s love.

Patience

19th Sunday of Year C–Installation of Fr. Anthony Strouse as Pastor of St. Pius X, Flint

by Most Rev. Earl Boyea, Bishop of Lansing

        What if you pulled into a McDonalds or Wendys drive through and ordered your burgers and fries and were told, “OK, if you will pull over there, we promise you we will get your food to you at some point”?  What if you turned on your computer to play a game or to retrieve your e-mail and a message came up saying, “Go out for a walk; your computer will be ready eventually”?  What if it was approaching December 25^th and you were told by your teacher or your employer, “I promise you a vacation for the holidays but you will have to wait to find out when it will be”?  Most of us, in any of these circumstances, would easily lose our patience.  I know that when my phone takes longer to process something than I think it should, I get very impatient and start waving my hands, “come on, come on”!  We do not know how to wait; we are not very good at delayed gratification.  Yet everything that is really good in our lives is something that we must wait for, we must prepare for. This is especially true of God’s promises to us.

Abraham, our Father in faith, is the one who best shows us how we are to wait for God’s promises.  His story is related in our second reading today from the Letter to the Hebrews.  Abraham was told by God to leave his own country, where he had grown up, where his family lived, and go to a strange country which God said he would give him.  Abraham had to wait a long time for that country to be his—in fact, it did not happen until his descendants, the Israelites, took the land hundreds of years after his death.  We are told in the Letter to the Hebrews today that in the meantime, Abraham lived “in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs of the same promise” as they waited for God to fulfill that promise. 

Abraham was also promised many descendants and yet for most of his life he did not even have a son.  It was only late in life that he and his wife had a son, whom they named Isaac.  Yet through all this time Abraham trusted that God would be faithful to his promises—that is what we call faith.

Jesus promises us in the Gospel today that if we keep our eyes open and keep watching for his return in glory, then he, Jesus, will save us when he comes back.  Well, we have been waiting for 2000 years for Christ’s return.  But have we waited as Abraham waited?  My guess is that most of us need a quick answer from God.  We really are unable to keep going for the long haul on just a promise.

Two things are needed by us if we are to live a life of a Christian in our world today.  First of all, we need patience—we need to be able to wait for what is truly good without needing an answer right now.  Secondly, we need faith.  Only faith that God will be true to his promises will allow us to be patient and wait.

Patience means that when we are on the football team, we work hard day in and day out knowing that in the end all the work will pay off—maybe it will pay off in victories on the field, or maybe it will pay off later in our life.  Maybe we won’t win that many games, but maybe the friendships we developed, our discipline and stick-to-it-ness will help us be better adults and more responsible parents.  We may not even realize the pay off until we look back on our lives.  

Patience means that when our marriage seems to be falling apart, we make a new investment in it, taking the time to try to renew our relationship, realizing how much work went into it the first time, but believing and hoping that something positive and good can result.  

Very few of us, unfortunately, are willing to make this long-term effort.  We want to see results now.  Patience means that we raise our children and given them our time and attention, knowing full well, that we ourselves may not be the beneficiaries of all that effort.  

During my time of doing seminary work, I put a lot of time and energy into preparing young men for the priesthood—yet I didn’t expect them to bring about some great reform in the Church.  Rather, I hoped that they would train the next generation of priests who would begin to bring about that reform.  I am willing to play my little part in that long-range process.  Parents do the same thing with their kinds—for they are preparing parents for the next generation.

Why would any of us be patient?  We would any of us be willing to put off our satisfaction until sometime later?  It is only because we believe that in the end God will balance all this out—that we shall be rewarded in the end—and that reward, life with God, is worth waiting for, worth all our efforts.  Of course, we hold to this only due to the gift of faith.

My sisters and brothers, I promise you heaven—I promise you a life you cannot imagine—I promise you a love deeper and richer than anything you could dream about—but this will remain a promise until it is fulfilled—in the meantime, keep the faith, be patient, and keep your eyes on the look-out for Jesus.

God bless you all.

Seeing with the Eyes of our Souls

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The home that I grew up in was in the country, north of Williamston.  We had a two-story log cabin that my parents had someone build, with 5 acres of land.  Some of the land was developed, some was undeveloped and allowed to go wild.  My parents didn’t like the idea of video games, and, believe it or not, very few people had cell phones at that time (right now some of you who are kids are wondering how that is even possible and how we survived).  So my sisters and I were forced to use our imaginations, and we often played outside (I think that was partially because mom wanted time to herself in the house).  We imagined being super heroes, riding our bikes in our driveway as our super hero cars, or sometimes pretended that we were living in the wild, making forts and shelters from some of the trees that naturally grew in the undeveloped parts of the property.  Our imagination allowed us to see things that were not there.

Faith is not imagination.  Faith is not making something up that will never happen.  I am not Captain America (well, maybe I’m Captain America before he was strong).  I don’t have a super hero car (though I do love my Chevy Malibu).  But faith does allow us to see things that are not there.  

We hear about faith in all three readings, but especially in our first and second readings.  The sacred author of the Book of Wisdom talks about how the Jews had faith that God would deliver them from their bondage in Egypt, and would even the score against Israel’s oppressors.  And the sacred author of the Letter to the Hebrews speaks especially about the faith that Abraham, our father in faith, had when he left Ur for Palestine, when he trusted that Sarah would conceive Isaac, and when God asked Abraham to offer up that same son, Isaac, though God had promised descendants through Isaac.  Abraham had faith and saw a future for himself with God, though it was not the one he originally had planned for, or even seemed contrary to the future that God had promised.

Faith allows us to see, not only with the eyes in our head, but also with the eyes of our soul.  Faith invites us to change a part of our life that we think we need, trusting that God will supply for whatever we think we will lack.  Faith allows us to know things that are not apparent to our senses.  In some older holy cards that depict the Mass, it shows the priest, elevating the host and the chalice, with the angels and saints coming down from heaven in adoration.  That is not simply a pious image; that happens at every Mass, as we participate in a halfway point between heaven and earth.  Faith in God led the Sisters of Loretto in Santa Fe, New Mexico, to ask God to send the someone to complete their chapel, which lacked a staircase to the choir loft.  Sadly, there was little room for a regular staircase, and they had very little money.  After praying a novena to St. Joseph for nine days, a man came who promised to build the staircase for the sisters, but they had to give him total privacy.  He locked himself inside for three months, and only had primitive tools.  He disappeared as soon as the staircase was finished, without accolades or payment.  Experts still don’t know how it was done.  The sisters knew it was St. Joseph himself who had built it for them.

Faith leads us to do what we think is impossible, because we are not the main agents of the impossible, but God is.  We are so often limited by our vision, that we fail to see things with the vision of God.  After all, the Jews were looking for an earthly king like King David to be their Messiah.  God sent them Jesus, who was not whom the Jews expected, but freed them in a more powerful way than an earthly ruler ever could have–He saved them from sin and death.

What do we think is impossible?  What are those things that our eyes in our head tell us can never happen?  Jesus tells us in the Gospel not to grow complacent.  He reminds us that He will return, but it will be on His time.  If we lose our vision with the eyes of our souls, and only live with the eyes in our head, then we will forget about the Master who will return and will reward or punish us according to our service.  But, if we keep watch with the eyes of our souls, trusting that God can accomplish what is impossible–even the salvation and restoration of this fallen world–then God will reward us, making Himself our servant.  

We don’t simply have to imagine a world that is better than the one we have now: a world without violence, without hatred, without racism, without drugs, without war, without greed, without the fallen realities that continue to plague us.  God can make that world a reality.  Do we have faith to see how God wants to use us to help make the world that the eyes of the soul see the world that the eyes in our head see?

"You fool"

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

There are many endearing names that we would probably like to hear from God: my beloved; my son or my daughter; my child; my good and faithful servant.  Today we hear a not-so-endearing name that God calls the man in the parable: “You fool.”  

Those are not the words we want to hear from God.  So, why does the man in the parable hear those words?  Was it because the man was a successful farmer?  Was it because he was trying to increase his buildings?  Does God hate people with lots of stuff?

If we look through salvation history, we see people who are successful, who build great buildings, who have lots of stuff, that God loves.  Just a couple will suffice as examples: Abraham was a very successful man and had lots of possessions; King Solomon built a beautiful temple to God.  God didn’t have problems with them for that.  So why was God so peeved in the parable that Jesus told?

The man in the parable is concerned only with one thing: putting his trust in his things and his success.  He has made his possessions and his success his god, worshipping it by applying all his energy to it.  He must not have read Ecclesiastes, our first reading, where the author (by tradition King Solomon), inspired by God, reminds the people that all that we work for in life is left to others, and we should not make it the aim of our entire life.

Sometimes as Catholics and Christians we can have an uneasy approach to money.  Maybe we think that God and the Church says that having money is bad, that being successful is bad.  That’s not what God and the Church says at all.  How many church buildings have been built by the generosity of the People of God?  How many ministries are funded by the donations of people who have done very well for themselves in business?  And Jesus and His Apostles had a money bag, and would often rely on the generosity of their followers, like Martha, Mary, and Lazarus.

There is nothing inherently wrong with being rich and/or successful in a worldly point of view.  It is not necessarily a sin to have lots of money or nice things.  But, we have to ask ourselves if our money, our success, or our possessions have become a god to us.  What is our approach to our things?  

It is easy to have things become gods to us.  We work to get them, we put in a lot of energy around them.  Someone has a nice house in a nice neighborhood, so we have to move there and build a nice house, too.  There’s a new iPhone coming out, and even though our phone works fine, and we just got a new one, we need to have the latest gadget in technology.  Or we do all the work in the world to reach that high point of our career, and everything else goes to the back burner.  If we live that way, then God may well say to us, “You fool!”

Because what will happen after you die to all that money that you spent so long attaining?  You don’t get to take it with you.  It will go to someone else: your family, friends, the government.  What will happen that super nice house that you spent all your energy in building and improving?  It will be sold to someone else.  What will happen to your job into which you worked so hard to be promoted?  Someone else will get it, and may even do a better job than you.  When we spend all our time and energy on those passing things, we neglect the things that are eternal, and will survive us after we die: love, faith, in general we might say our soul.

What does last is the love that we give to God and that we give to others.  Sometimes that love is expressed through financial donations, but it is more often expressed in time and energy.  When we spend our time and energy on loving God and others, we work on a success that continues with us in the next life.  When we work on our relationship with God, on forgiving others, and spending time with friends and family, we are not creating false gods, but focusing on what the true God has asked us to do which will make us truly happy not only in this life, but especially in the next.  

Money, success, worldly possessions are not bad in themselves.  But they can often take on a life of their own, and become gods to us.  If we ever wonder if a possession has become a god, then think of what you would do if you had to give it up today.  We may be sad, no matter what, but would we think about how much time we wasted to get that thing now that it’s gone?  If we ever think that we have wasted time when something is taken away from us, then we are probably right; we probably have wasted time on things which are not essential.  Today God, the true God, invites us to take stock of how we spend our time and energy.  Are they on passing things?  Or do we spend our time and energy on that which will remain with us as we approach the judgment seat of God?

Our Catholic Life of Prayer

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Question for you this afternoon/morning: if you’re married, when was the last time you spoke to your spouse?  If you have kids who live with you at home, when was the last time you spoke to them?  If you’re in high school or college, when was the last time you texted your friends?  Now, when was the last time you prayed to God?

If you are married and you haven’t spoken to your spouse today, then I might be seeing you later this week in my office for marriage counseling.  If you have kids who live at home and you haven’t spoken to them yet today, you’re probably not going to win a parent of the year award.  If you are in high school or college and you haven’t texted someone yet, you probably have been asleep until about 20 minutes ago.  But when it comes to talking to God, when it comes to prayer, we tend to be ok with letting that go much longer.

Sometimes we can treat prayer as pretty complicated.  We feel like it has to meet all these different criteria, and so, because it requires too much, we don’t do it.  But prayer is not necessary complicated.  Look at our first reading from the Book of Genesis.  Abraham speaks with God, after God reveals His plan to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah because of their grave sins.  Abraham is simply walking with God, and starts bargaining.  Abraham simply talks to God.

Part of prayer is simply talking to God.  The other part of prayer is listening to God.  We tend to be good at the first, but not so good at the other.  But the Lord invites us to listen to Him as well as to speak to Him.  For our daily prayer, there is no special language needed, either.  Simply talk to God; say what’s on your mind and heart.  And then have some time of silence to listen for His voice, even if it’s in our hearts.  Talk to God like you would talk to a spouse, a family member, or a friend.

At the same time, when it comes to our formal prayer, we do have specialized ways of speaking to God.  In our Gospel today, Jesus teaches us the Our Father.  Today we heard St. Luke’s version.  We say the version that St. Matthew reported, but at its heart, it’s the same prayer.  Sometimes, especially when we are at a loss for words, formal prayers are nice because we don’t have to spend the time thinking of what we want to say.  We can enter into the words that Jesus or the Church gave us, and pray the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Memorare, or the Glory Be.  

We are also in the midst of the Church’s great prayer: the Mass.  We began our prayer with the sign of the cross, and we will end it with the dismissal after the blessing with the sign of the cross.  Now, as the official prayer of the Church, we have a different way of addressing God.  How often do you say, “bestow in abundance” or “these most sacred mysteries” or even “grant, we pray”?  Probably never.  And yet, in this formal prayer of the Church, we elevate our language to remind us that we are not simply in a brick and mortar building.  We are not in an earthly place when we celebrate Mass (at least not the way we are when we go to the mall, or a bank, or a restaurant).  When we are at Mass, we are in a foretaste of heaven, the halfway point between heaven and earth.  And so, just as we are invited to lift up our hearts, so we also lift up our language and grammar to reflect the greatness, the solemnity, of the event we are entering: the Passion, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus Christ.  

Some people like formal; some like informal.  Some people like memorized words; others like extemporaneous.  There is a place for both in the Catholic life.  If our only prayer is formal prayer and the Mass, then we are missing out on the more emotional parts of our faith that come from our daily devotions and times of speaking to God in our own words.  If our only prayer is our daily devotions and speaking to God in our own words, then we’re missing out on the font that is supposed to give our devotions life (the Mass), and we can easily forget that God, while our loving Father, is also our King, and we are not His equal.  Both are necessary for a healthy and balanced Catholic life.

God is both our Father and our King.  He wants to hear what is going on in our life on a daily basis.  At the same time, He is not our puppet, and we are still called to have wonder and awe in His presence.  The best way for this to happen is to pray.  Pray daily with all the things that are on your heart and mind.  Use the devotions of the Church like the Rosary, Praise and Worship music, and prayers to favorite saints.  At the same time, also join in more formal prayer.  Come to Mass each Sunday and holyday.  In these last weeks of summer vacation, come to daily Mass if you’re able.  Worship God our Lord, who created the universe and holds us in being.  Unite with the bread and the wine on the altar your cares, concerns, joys, and blessings.  And then say, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof.  But only say the word and my soul shall be healed” in humility, knowing that God does not owe us anything.  Enter into communication with God.  Share your love with Him, and be surrounded by His love for you.  

Humble and Kind

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

As I think I mentioned in a bulletin article, my favorite music is country music.  This past Thursday I had a chance to go to the Tim McGraw concert in Lansing at Common Ground with Fr. Brian Lenz, one of the newest priests of the Diocese of Lansing.  One of his recent big hits is “Humble and Kind.”  Some of the lyrics are: “Go to church ‘cause your momma says to” [one of my favorites], “always stay humble and kind.//  Hold the door, say please, say thank you/ Don’t steal, don’t cheat, and don’t lie/…Always stay humble and kind…When the dreams you’re dreamin’ come to you/ When the work you put in is realized/ Let yourself feel the pride but/ Always stay humble and kind.//  Don’t expect a free ride from no one/ Don’t hold a grudge or a chip and here’s why/ Bitterness keeps you from flyin’/ Always stay humble and kind.”

It strikes me as a sign of the times that an artist has to sing about holding the door, saying please and thank you, not stealing, cheating, or lying, and the rest.  These were things many of us, if not all of us, learned as children.  Somewhere, though, it stopped being taught, or maybe was just ignored.  And many of the problems we have in the world today could be solved by following these simple pieces of advice.

In our first reading today, Moses tells the people that the Law that God has given them is not overly complicated.  In fact, it is already in the hearts of the people.  They don’t have to go to extreme lengths to get the Law.  God has shared it with His People as a way that they can be fully alive in Him.

The scholar of the law in today’s Gospel tried to trick Jesus by asking him how to get to heaven.  The scholar must have figured this young man (Jesus was likely only 32 or 33 at this point, a fine age to be, I might add) wouldn’t know what to say.  But Jesus asks him about the Law that was supposed to be written in his heart.  The scholar replies with the second half of the Shema, the great profession of faith of Israel: “Hear O Israel: the Lord is God; the Lord is one.  Therefore you shall love the Lord, your God…” and we hear the rest of it today.  The scholar then also quotes the Book of Leviticus, as he says that we need to love our neighbor as ourselves.  But then Luke adds that the scholar was not humble, but wanted to show off his mental skills, so he asks Jesus, “‘And who is my neighbor?’”  

When we hear the story of the Good Samaritan (which is a parable, not an actual occurrence), we get the point quite quickly.  Of course the person is supposed to help the dying man on the road.  Of course you would help a dying man get to a place where he could be healed.  Though, I wonder how many of us would offer to pay a man’s hospital bills if he was taken to a hospital.  I’m not sure I would.

When we hear this, it does seem like common sense (which is not that common these days).  But how often do we do these things?  We have lots of reasons not to help people these days: times are tough; I have my own problems; everyone has a cell phone and can call for help themselves; there are some dangerous people out there who pose as people in distress to try to hurt others.  The list goes on an on.  Even I struggle to live this out.  About a month ago, I was on my way to Adrian from Lansing, and there was a bad accident on southbound 127 around Mason.  As a priest, I can often gain access to a scene to see if anyone needs a priest or a person to pray with them, whether the victim or the first responders.  But that day I was tired, and while I slowed down, and the thought entered my mind, especially since I was, at the time, a Fire Department Chaplain, I drove by.  All the rest of the way to Adrian I knew I should have stopped.  Odds are that they would have said everything was taken care of.  Odds are that they would have said they didn’t need me.  But I will never know, because I never stopped.

Certainly we need to know the dangers of a situation, and sometimes we are not equipped to actually help the situation.  But when we are, do we stop?  Do we help a neighbor in need?  It doesn’t have to be on the road.  Maybe it’s an elderly neighbor who could use a ride to church, or could simply use a visit.  Maybe it’s a family that could use help with their lawn.  Whatever it is, Jesus today invites us to live by the law that is in our hearts.  

Tim McGraw isn’t Jesus; Tim’s words do not save.  But the lyrics I quoted are examples that are based in the Word of God, and will help us to live as disciples.  “Hold the door, say please, say thank you/ Don’t steal, don’t cheat, and don’t lie/…Always stay humble and kind…”

True Freedom in Jesus

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Last week, as I prepared to leave my last parish, St. Joseph, I found it providential that God put as the readings Elisha leaving his home to follow Elijah as a prophet, and Jesus saying that, in ministry, birds of the air have nests and foxes have dens, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.  This week I find it providential that, as I settle in to my new home here in Flint, our Gospel focuses on sending missionaries to preach the Gospel and extend Jesus’ peace into the homes that the disciples visit.

So today I come before you as a missionary; not in the sense that we often think of: a member of a religious community who travels around the world to teach pagans about Jesus.  Rather, I come as a missionary of the New Evangelization, to proclaim to you Jesus, crucified and risen from the dead, and to invite you, with me, to conform our lives more and more each day to Jesus, who will truly make us happy.  I come today to say, “Peace to this household.”  This peace is not merely the cessation of arguments and violence, but the wholeness that only God can bring.

And I come to you today on Independence Day weekend.  I don’t know if this is a normal size crowd for Mass (if it’s like every other parish I’ve been at, I’m sure there are a good amount of people who are vacationing for the long, holiday weekend).  But as we celebrate Independence Day as a nation, as a Church we look at Jesus’ instructions on independence.  He talks about it today in the readings in His instructions to the disciples: “Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals.”  Now, the word Independence is not there, obviously.  But Jesus is telling His disciples not to rely on worldly things, but to trust in Him and in the mission He is giving them.

I certainly also know that in my life.  When I was a young man (maybe the word younger is more appropriate), my dream was to be married, have a few kids, a few dogs, be decently wealthy, and be a lawyer, and then maybe later a politician.  Am I married?  Nope.  Kids?  Nope.  Dogs?  Tried it, but could never make it work.  Wealthy?  Not in financial terms.  A lawyer or politician?  Nope.  I’m a priest.  And yet I am happy.  In fact, I can’t imagine myself happy as anything but a priest.  If I would have insisted on having things my way, on doing things independent of God, then I wouldn’t be here with you today, and I wouldn’t be embarking on a great, new adventure with in my priesthood.  

In our modern understanding, independence means doing whatever we want.  But in Jesus’ understanding, independence means not being tied down by things, dreams, or even people, who want to lead us away from God.  Being truly independent, being free, means being obedient to Jesus, and following His will.  It means not letting our passions control us, not being slaves to sin.  The one who is least free is the sinner, because God never enslaves us, but that’s all Satan wants to do.  Sin binds us to death, whereas life in Christ binds us to resurrection.  Sin shackles us to despair, whereas Jesus gives us hope.  

Freedom is not doing whatever want.  Freedom is not freedom from someone else.  Freedom is freedom for someone else: Jesus, and how He reveals Himself in our neighbors.  Peoples certainly have the right to direct how they are governed, and we celebrate the freedoms enshrined in our Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights, freedoms which come to us not because the government allows us certain permissions, but freedoms which come to us from God, and which no government can legitimately curtail.  We celebrate the freedom which is proper to every human person, no matter that person’s race, religion, sexual orientation, age, or gender.  But that freedom is meant to help us choose the good in life, not simply wherever our fancies and desires take us.

Jesus used His freedom to lay down His life for us.  And so St. Paul reminds us that we are never to boast, “except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  May we use our freedoms to preach the Gospel by word and deed, and use our freedom in being able to choose the good things that God has in store for us.

Trusting God with our Future

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

These readings for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time providentially connect well with my final Sunday as pastor of St. Joseph.  This is one of the amazing things about the Word of God.  It always has something to say to us to strengthen us, to comfort us, and to provide us with the way forward in our lives, no matter what is happening.

I do have to say, though, it is a bit funny that the first reading is about Elijah calling Elisha away from his home, and the Gospel includes a passage where Jesus affirms that He has no permanent home in His ministry, unlike the foxes and birds who have their dens and nests.  

When I was ordained a priest, six years ago, I put my hands in Bishop Boyea’s hands, and Bishop Boyea asked me, “Do you promise respect and obedience to me and my successors?”  I answered, “I do.”  Bishop Boyea then continued, “May God who has begun the good work in you bring it to fulfillment.”  Bishop Boyea didn’t tell me that moving to Flint was part of my promise of obedience to him.  But as he asked me to leave my home, Adrian, behind, I knew that God was asking me to let go of that which I treasured, and entrust myself to Him, just as Elisha had to entrust himself to God as he followed Elijah.

One of the things that may seem crazy is the life of a priest.  The decision to give up money, the ability to make the major decisions in our life, to be obedient to another, as well as to give up sex and a biological family, seems, in the view of our society to be crazy.  It might even sound boring or too much to give up.  But, even with the very real sacrifices that I do make, I am grateful to God that He called me to be a priest, and I would make the same decision again if I had to.  I also can think of at least 8 young men who are in the parish (in addition to Jake, the seminarian who is living with me) or are from the parish who would make a good priest (I won’t embarrass them by naming them).  If you are a young man, even if you think you know exactly what you want to do with your life, do not be afraid to be open to the will of God.  If you have heard that little voice in your heart suggesting a priestly vocation, at least look into it.  Keep praying about it.  And do not be afraid to see if that is where the Lord is calling you.

But that attitude of abandonment to God’s will is not just for priests.  As Christians, we are all called to a radical trust in God in every circumstance.  And sometimes God calls us to walk away from what we think is best in order that we can continue to grow in faith in Him.  Sometimes that means moving, like in my case.  Sometimes that means letting go of a favorite hobby, food, or especially a sin without which we are sure we cannot live.  Maybe it means being open to another child when we think we’ve had enough.  Of course, when it comes to a new life entering our lives, we want to pray about it, and use the gift of reason that God has given us as we discern God’s will.  But just because our will says one thing, does not mean that it is necessarily God’s will.

We are called to live by the Spirit, as St. Paul reminds us in the second reading.  And not just any spirit, but the Spirit of God.  Our fallen human nature sometimes says one thing while the Spirit of God says another.  We are always tempted to take our lives into our own hands and make all the decisions ourselves.  We still struggle with the same temptation that afflicted Adam and Eve: to put ourselves in the place of God and decide our future without any relation to God.  But by our baptism, we can know God’s will, and we can choose to make what may seem like an insane decision according to the wisdom of the world, but which is the best decision according to the wisdom of God.

The Lord calls us throughout our lives to put our trust in Him and to follow Him, even to places we didn’t expect to go.  Will we have the courage to be like Elisha and leave what we know behind in order to serve God where He leads us?

Admitting We're Wrong; Receiving God's Mercy

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Sacrament of Penance, aka Confession, is one of my favorite sacraments to celebrate, both as a priest and as a penitent.  Not because I like hearing all the juicy details of your life.  Lord knows other priests have heard mine.  I love giving and receiving the mercy of God.  As a priest, a person’s confession is never about what they have done.  Yes, they have to be sorry; and sometimes I try to get them to truly make the changes that will help them not commit those sins in the future.  But the sacrament is about God’s mercy, and restoring that person to sanctifying grace, that is, the grace that makes us the saints that God called us to be in baptism.  When a person comes into the confessional, he or she may be in serious danger of going to hell because of mortal sin.  When that same person leaves, he or she is once more on the track to being a saint.

I think one of the difficulties in confessing our sins is that it can be embarrassing.  Some sins are embarrassing to confess, or even just to say.  Sometimes it’s the embarrassment of knowing that we did something we knew was wrong.  But when we confess our sins, when we admit that we have done wrong, we are not alone.  David, the best king Israel ever had, the image of what the Messiah would be like, was an adulterer and a murderer.  He got Bathsheba pregnant when she was married to Uriah, tried to have Uriah have relations with his wife so that he would think it was his, and then had Uriah killed when his planned deception did not work.  In today’s first reading, we get part of that story, where God chastises David for doing what was wrong.  But notice that, as soon as David said, “‘I have sinned against the Lord’”, God responds immediately through his prophet Nathan, “‘The Lord on his part has forgiven your sin: you shall not die.’”  As soon as we admit that we are in need of God’s mercy, which is itself made possible by God’s grace, God rushes in to forgive us, and to keep us from death and hell.  

The woman in today’s Gospel passage doesn’t even say she is sorry with her words.  She provides a service of love to Jesus to express how sorry she is.  She can’t even speak her sorrow, but cries because of how much she knows she has strayed from God.  And in her act of love, Jesus says, “‘Your sins are forgiven.’”  She knows the value of God’s love, and wants to be restored to it.  She knows that what she did was wrong, and she seeks God’s mercy.  And God, in Jesus, gives her the mercy for which she was looking.

It’s hard admitting that we’re wrong.  We love to justify ourselves as much as possible, and rationalize what we do when we sin.  Or, in some cases, we do not refer to sins as sinful; we ignore how they are contrary to God’s plan for our happiness.  We know by faith, that our chances of getting into heaven if we die in the state of mortal sin are not good.  God never forces His love upon us, and we can freely choose to reject Him in our actions.  Yet we also know of God’s mercy, that is waiting to be showered upon us.  Pope Francis has especially encouraged us to seek God’s mercy in this Jubilee Year of Mercy.  He invites us to experience personally what Psalm 32 said today: “I acknowledged my sin to you,/ my guilt I covered not./  I said, ‘I confess my faults to the Lord,’/ and you took away the guilt of my sin.//”

In his Papal Bull starting the Jubilee Year of Mercy, Pope Francis wrote, “Let us place the Sacrament of Reconciliation at the centre [sic] once more in such a way that it will enable people to touch the grandeur of God’s mercy with their own hands.  For every penitent, it will be a source of true interior peace.”  The Lord wants to shower his mercy upon us, but we must first admit that we are the ones who need mercy.  In the Sacrament of Penance, we admit that we are a sinner, and the Lord looks upon us with love and forgiveness.  Or, we recognize, as Pope Francis said in an interview, that, “‘I am a sinner whom the Lord has looked upon.”

So we should not fear the Sacrament of Penance.  Even if it’s been 5 or 10 or 20 or 40 years since your last confession, I invite you to experience the ordinary way that God gives His mercy to us.  Don’t worry if you don’t remember your act of contrition; I’ll help you through it.  Or, if you don’t want to go to me, Fr. Shaun is always available, or you can go to one of the surrounding parishes in Lenawee County.  But don’t miss out on the chance to receive God’s mercy!

Frequent Dying and Rising

Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

For as stupendous as raising someone from the dead is, it happens somewhat frequently in the Bible.  We heard about God raising the widow of Zarephath’s child through Elijah in our first reading, and Jesus raising the son of the widow from Nain in today’s Gospel.  Jesus also raises the daughter of Jairus, a synagogue official, and Lazarus.  After Jesus ascended into heaven, Peter raises a young girl named Dorkas (what an unfortunate name!), and Paul raises to life a person who falls out of a window after that person had fallen asleep because of how long Paul was preaching (there are dangers with preaching too long!).  I don’t know why, but I feel like that’s a lot of times.  About a month ago, I was given credit for raising someone from the dead by some of our firefighters, after I was riding with the firefighters and we responded to a call of someone having a heart attack, who seemed to miraculously wake up when we arrived (in reality, that person was an example of why you should never mix alcohol and a prescription narcotic).

But God truly does raise people from death on a regular basis, if we take time to think about it.  God raises from death those who are baptized.  In baptism, children, men and women are taken from being at enmity with God to being His children.  By baptism, people are buried with Christ–they die–so that they can rise with Him to new life.  By baptism, the old self has to die, like the grain of wheat, so that the new self, the person alive in Christ, can live.  

But that process of dying and rising does not stop on the day that we are baptized.  Each day we have the opportunity to die and rise.  It starts for some of us at the moment our eyes open.  At that moment we have the opportunity to die to our laziness and the comfort of our bed and rise to the new day that is before us.  There’s nothing wrong with hitting the snooze button if we have time, but at some point for many of us, we need to get up and get prepared for the day.  That’s why, at the beginning of my day, before my feet hit the floor of my bedroom, I say a short prayer: Mater mea, fiducia mea!–My Mother, my confidence!, and I entrust my entire day to Jesus through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  You could say any prayer that you like, but prayer is a great way to rise to new life.

Throughout our day there will be people trying to kill us.  Sometimes we are the people trying to kill others.  Hopefully not literally, but certainly figuratively.  What I mean by that is that we are all sinful, and we all give in to temptations, to not be disciples of Jesus.  Whether it’s others or ourselves, there’s gossip, slander, sharing secrets we have no business sharing, treating others as objects or as means to advancement, and the list could go on and on.  If we are the culprit, then we need to die to all of those sins.  We need them to be put to death, and Jesus does that by His suffering on the cross.  When we bite our lip, or treat someone kindly, we are dying to our fallen nature and its sinful tendencies.  If we are on the receiving end, then we die when we patiently suffer through them (correcting when necessary and prudent) instead of giving back what we received.  And whether we are putting to death our own tendencies, or suffering with Jesus because of others’ tendencies, new life, resurrection, is available for us, not only after our earthly life ends, but even on this side of eternity.

Because those who can accept suffering and unite it with Jesus do live happier lives.  They may still have the same sorrows, but they do not let the sorrows control their lives.  They cling to their new life in Christ, given to them in baptism, and live in the joy of the Resurrection, even in this vale of tears.  Which is the happier life: the one tossed about by uncontrollable forces, or the one who entrusts his or her life to God and stays on a steady course toward Him?

Everything in our nature rebels against death.  We were not made to die, but experience death because of sin.  We see that rejection of death and its power in our first reading and Gospel today.  But there is another kind of death, a healing death, a death to our sinful selves, a death in Christ, which is not contrary to who we are, but helps us to be the fullest person we were created to be.  May we allow our sinful natures to die with Christ on the cross, so that we can also rise with Him to new life, both in our daily lives, and especially in the life to come.