The Spirit of Truth

Fourth Sunday after Easter In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. As we are getting closer to Pentecost, our Gospels start to focus more and more on Christ leaving this world and the sending of the Holy Spirit. We hear our Lord today promise to send the Advocate to the apostles, who will lead them into all truth.

To be honest, the Holy Spirit is probably the least acknowledged Person of the Blessed Trinity. Christ is often the first, only because of the Incarnation and His taking on our human nature. Because of this, we naturally are drawn to Him. And the Father easily comes next, as a Son needs a Father. Most of our prayers are addressed to the Father, through Christ our Lord (Per Dominum nostrum Iesum Christum, Fillium tuum…). The Apostles’ Creed, the earliest baptismal creed that we have, professes faith in the Father, and in the Incarnate Son and the major events of His saving life, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension, but then just continues, “And in the Holy Spirit.” It wasn’t until the Council of Constantinople in 381 that we get the expansion of our understanding of the Holy Spirit. He is professed as, “the Lord and giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son (that last part, in Latin, Filioque, being added some centuries later), who, with the Father and the Son is adored and glorified, who has spoken through the prophets.” St. Paul describes, especially in his first Epistle to the Corinthians. the gifts of the Holy Spirit and some of the charisms that can accompany the work of the Holy Spirit. St. John in his first Epistle describes the Spirit as one of the three witnesses to our Lord (along with water and blood). With the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, there was an explosion of interest in the Person of the Holy Spirit, but some (including many of those who love the Usus antiquior) were a bit skeptical of this focus on the Holy Spirit, if, for no other reason, than some of the liturgical innovations that accompanied it. What’s interesting is that, as far as theology, charismatics tend to be in step with traditional Catholics as far as being obedient to the teachings of the faith through Scripture and the Magisterium. But the Holy Spirit is given to us all, not only in Baptism, but especially in Confirmation, and works through all the seven sacraments. It is by the power of the Holy Spirit that the work of Christ continues to this day. Sometimes the Holy Spirit is demonstrated by extraordinary gifts like speaking in tongues, or words of prophecy (we hear about these charisms in the New Testament, but they didn’t stop after that). Other times the Holy Spirit is demonstrated by an attentiveness to doing God’s will in the present moment, those nudges that we get to assist this poor person with money or food, or a different way of expressing the faith to a person who is struggling, which seems to immediately help that person understand what we are saying. We need not be afraid of the Holy Spirit, any more than we need be afraid of the Father or the Son. Every good gift, as St. James says today in the Epistle, comes from above, from the Father, through the Son, in the power of the Holy Spirit. But I want to focus today on another way the Holy Spirit is revealed, which is mentioned directly in both the Gospel and the Epistle: and that is the revelation of the truth. We live in a world which both demands obedience to certain truths, all the while denying that there is any objective truth. We are told that science is to be believed by all (usually only science that favors certain policies or agendas). But then we are told that there is no truth outside of scientific facts (which is a self-defeating statement, because if there is no truth, then the statement that there is no truth is not true). One of the reasons why the Catholic Church is so often under attack is because we claim that there is truth, and that it has been revealed by our Lord through His Church. Any group that opposes the Church has to call into question the Catholic Church’s authority to proclaim the truth. I remember reading an article about how the New York Times works very hard to undermine the Catholic Church because the Grey Lady wants to be the bearer of truth (through its own ideological lenses), and does not want any competition. But we know that truth is not simply a set of propositions. Truth is a Person, a Person with a human nature and a human face, Jesus Christ. That is why we insist so much on truth, because it is an expression of faith in the Incarnate Lord. Our lies, no matter how small, are denials of Christ, who refers to Himself as the Way, the Truth, and the Life. But even Christ says that the Holy Spirit will reveal to us more truth, truth that the Apostles couldn’t bear during our Lord’s public ministry. And we know that this promise of Christ, this gift of the Holy Spirit to help us know the truth, has been preserved unbroken through 2,000 years of the Church. Doctrines do, indeed, develop, but truth does not; only our understanding of the truth expands. St. John Henry Newman likens the development of dogma as the growth of a human: the person has to remain the same, it cannot change, even while the limbs and features grow.

The Holy Spirit is the great Easter gift. When it comes to faith and morals, we don’t have to make it up, and rely on merely human wisdom (which is so subject to error). God Himself promises to reveal what we need to know about the truth, and that, when the Mystical Body of Christ teaches, it is without error. What a great assurance that is for us, especially in these days when everything seems to be changing and re-examined on an almost monthly basis! The promise of the Advocate who reveals the truth to us is the stabilizing factor as the barque of Peter is tossed about by the waves. May we hold fast to the truth always, given to us by the Father of lights, through His Incarnate Son, Jesus Christ, in the power and protection of the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever. Amen.

The Necessity of Faith

Third Sunday after Easter
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I think we often presume that it would have been better to be alive when our Lord was walking the earth.  We hear this stories from the Gospels and presume that if we would have been there, we certainly would have followed Christ and been one of His most faithful disciples.  We would have recognized that He is who He says He is, not only from His teachings, but especially from His miracles.  And that’s a pleasant thought.  But the Gospels also paint a very different picture of everyone else, including the Apostles.  No one seems to understand who Christ is, not even the Apostles, until after He has been raised from the dead.  Our Lord does draw big crowds at times (the Sermon on the Mount and the feeding of the five thousand come to mind), but a lot of people didn’t take well to either of those situations after a little while, and we know that most of the disciples stopped following Christ after the bread of life discourse.
    Interacting with the Lord always requires faith.  When He walked on the earth it required faith to know that this itinerant rabbi from Nazareth was the co-eternal Son of the Father.  It required faith to know that, when the Savior said our sins are forgiven and that we should pick up our mat and walk, that they really were and we really should. 

   The Gospel we hear today is from the Last Supper discourses, and the Lord says that we will not see Him, but that we will see Him again.  We might have some sense of what He meant, but the apostles did not.  And the explanation that the Lord gives, that we will be sad and mourn, but that we will later rejoice, didn’t really seem to answer the question.  It was confusing, especially in the light of the Master washing His servants’ feet, and then changing the Passover ritual to say that the bread was really His Body, and the wine was really His Blood. 
    But we are in the time of labor right now, the time when the Lord is away, knowing that He will return in a short time.  The labor is not joyful, but the fruit of this labor will be exceedingly joyful.  And when the fruit of the labor comes, we won’t even think about the pain we went through to get to it. 
    The labor is faith.  The labor is striving after God, doing our best to love and serve Him with our whole mind, heart, and strength, when may things around us and many things inside of us tell us to love and serve only ourselves.  It is painful to die to oneself, as Christ instructed us to do, to take up our cross daily and follow Him.  It is an act of faith to say that it will all be worth it, because we don’t see many results, and certainly not the eternally lasting ones, until after we are dead.  It’s Indiana Jones walking out onto a ledge he cannot see in “The Last Crusade.” 
    It takes faith to not live according to the desires of our flesh, as St. Peter instructs us.  It takes faith to be subject to governmental leaders, especially when they’re working against you.  That’s the context in which St. Peter wrote this passage.  He wasn’t talking about a good emperor or governor.  He was talking about an emperor and governors who were seeking the extinction of Christianity.  He was talking about those who were finding new and cruel ways to torture those who followed Christ. 
    He’s not saying that we should obey our civil leaders when they tell us to do something against divine or natural law, the laws of God or the laws that God set up for nature, that any person can know by the gift of reason.  But He does tell us to be good citizens and be subject to them in promoting the good of the city, State, and country.  But that takes faith.  It seems to especially take faith these days, that being good citizens when so many are confused about so much is somehow part of God’s plan, and that God will make everything right and will correct the errors of our day and that justice and truth will win out.  But they will.
    And we see a clearer distinction between good and evil these days.  The choice between following Christ is becoming a starker choice.  Catholics who wish to be faithful to the Gospel and the Church can no longer simply “go along” with society, as society now posits as good that which is evil, and, as much as science is touted as the ultimate truth, science is ignored if it doesn’t support particular viewpoints (like gender dysphoria and the unique personhood of an infant in the womb).  It takes faith to trust that God will right all these, but He will.  And we don’t want to be on the losing side when He does right these wrongs.
    Today the Lord invites us to have faith; to trust that He is who He says He is; that He can do mighty things, not only while He was on earth, but even now when His glorified Body is at the right hand of God in heaven.  The Lord invites us to be good citizens, and to be subject to our government leaders as long as they don’t work against our practice of the faith.  Christ invites us to trust Him, to trust the Father, and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.  

A Domesticated Good Shepherd?

 Fourth Sunday of Easter
    When people think of cherubs, I think our minds immediately go to the pudgy, babies with little wings, like what you would see in a Raphael painting.  In the Book of Ezekiel, they are described as having two sets of wings, and four faces (lion, ox, human, and eagle).  John describes them similarly in the Book of Revelation, but with three sets of wings, instead of two.  If a cherub as described in the Bible showed up, you might understand why the first words out of angels’ mouths are generally, “Do not be afraid!”

    Today is called Good Shepherd Sunday, after the Gospels used in all three years of the Sunday cycles of the Gospels.  We don’t quite hear Jesus say today that He is the Good Shepherd, but He talks about His sheep hearing His voice and following Him.  Perhaps we have domesticated the image of Christ the Good Shepherd, in much the same way we have domesticated cherubs.
    First of all, to be called a sheep is not a compliment.  Sheep are not smart animals.  That is why they need shepherds.  Not only are they easy prey, but I read somewhere that the reason they have to be moved, is because they will eat up all the grass, roots and all, if left in a solitary pasture.  So not too flattering for us.
    We do hear how the Good Shepherd knows His sheep, and elsewhere, Jesus says that He will go after the lost sheep.  We like that image.  Probably because we, like sheep, wander off to dangerous places that we should not go.  But this presumes that, when we hear the voice of the shepherd, we want to return to the good pastures.  The picture we hear from the Acts of the Apostles today gives us a different glimpse.  
    Paul and Barnabas are preaching in the synagogue in Antioch, in modern-day Turkey.  As Paul preaches to them that Jesus is the Messiah, at first they are open.  But, as they see non-Jews starting to accept the message, they turn and become agitated with Paul and Barnabas, and start rejecting them and their message of salvation through Jesus.  They eventually get enough people to expel Paul and Barnabas from the territory.  The message of life and truth as rejected, even by the people prepared by God to accept that same message, because they had the prophets preparing them for the Messiah, the prophecies of which Jesus fulfilled.
    So, too, we can think that if we hear the truth that we will readily accept it.  If the Good Shepherd tells us something that we need to hear, we will listen, especially if it’s for our own good.  And if He invites us back to the good pastures, that we will naturally follow.
    As we celebrate Mother’s Day today, we honor our mothers for all they have done for us, especially giving us the gift of life.  But think about your own mothers: even when they were saying something that was for your own good, did you always listen?  I’ll admit I didn’t.  So if we don’t do that with our own mothers, from whom we learn what love is, do we think that we’ll do better with Jesus?
    The same goes with our Holy Mother Church.  She often tells us that we should do X, or should avoid Y, and how often do we end up saying something like, “Mind your own business!”?  The Church is the Mystical Body of Christ.  She speaks for Her Groom, Christ Jesus.  She applies what He taught us for salvation to new times and circumstances.  When it comes to faith and morals, hers is the voice of the Good Shepherd, leading us to the pastures of everlasting life.  But how often would we rather do our own will and follow our own so-called wisdom, rather than following the wisdom and will of the Good Shepherd?
    We see this in our own day with abortion.  If you’ve seen the news recently, you’ve seen an opinion paper, leaked from the Supreme Court, which advocates overturning Roe v. Wade.  Now, the Church has been clear since the first century of Christianity, that abortion is not consistent with being a follower of Christ.  Anyone who truly follows Christ cannot support abortion.  The Church, especially in recent years, has “followed the science” (to use a phrase in vogue right now) to remind us that the infant in the womb is a unique human being, with unique DNA, even while in the womb of the mother.  It is not a potential human, it is a human with potential.  We have marched and talked about the value of every human life, and promoted adoption, in case a mother has no support to raise the child she has conceived.  Even children born from sexual assault have talked about their own value as a human being, and how glad they are that their mother followed the will of God and chose life.  And yet, with all these good witnesses, people, sometimes even Catholics, sometimes even very prominent Catholics like our president, promote abortion and do not heed the voice of the Good Shepherd, pleading for the life of those little lambs in the womb.  
    Today, let’s listen to the voice of the Good Shepherd, in all areas that He speaks.  Let’s pray for all mothers today and ask God to help them to be the best mothers they can be.  That includes mothers whose children came to term and whom they raised; mothers who suffered the great sorrow and loss of miscarriage or stillborn children; and especially pray for mothers who made the decision to abort their child, that they have a conversion of heart and that the wounds that abortion causes are healed.  May we all–mothers, fathers, and children–be attentive to and listen to the voice of the Good Shepherd today and every day. 

A Catholic View of Work

 Second Sunday after Easter

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Today we are celebrating two important people: St. Joseph the Worker, and our First Communicants.  First, I'll speak about St. Joseph.

St. Joseph's Workshop in Nazareth

    Holy Mother Church chose today, 1 May, to celebrate St. Joseph as a way to combat and convert celebrations that celebrated work in a communist mentality.  Pope Pius XII established the feast in 1955.  While we are not communists (at least I hope no one here is!), in many ways our understanding of work is still not fully in line with the Scriptures.  Many think of work as the thing to avoid at all costs, to get away from as much as possible.  We even may look back at Genesis and see that God cursed Adam and Eve and told them that only by their toil would the fruits of the earth come forth.  But in Christ, our understanding of work developed, no longer as a curse, but as a way that we can grow in holiness.  Christ was not subject to sin, and yet He still chose to work as a carpenter with His foster-father, St. Joseph.  He redeemed work as He accomplished it.  And so for us, work is no longer simply a drudgery, something to be avoided as a curse, but as a way that we grow in holiness, following the pattern of our Redeemer.  

    This may still seem counter-intuitive.  And may ring empty from a priest who just got back from a vacation.  But, we see that God has given each of us gifts, and our Lord tells us that we are to use our talents to progress society, as He tells us in the parable of the talents.  It is to the lazy servant that Christ has the harshest words.  You have gifts and talents that I don't, that are meant to build up society and help it to grow to be more like the City of God.  When we don't use those gifts and talents, society suffers.  We see that, not only from our unemployment numbers, but from how our society suffers when we don't band together to make it better.  

    But it even affects our salvation.  When we use our gifts and talents, we are giving glory to God who has given us those gifts, and letting our light shine before others.  When we don't use those gifts, we are hiding them under the bushel basket.  We are not to brag about our gifts, but we are to use our gifts, recognizing that, without God we cannot do anything.  At the same time, rather than looking in jealousy or envy towards others, we should see that they, too, have a part to play in building up society with their gifts, just as we do with ours.  Both they and we are necessary for the building up the world, whether we feel like our job is glamourous or is menial.  All work has dignity, and is a means of becoming a saint.  In fact, some of our more popular recent saints had very menial work, and yet are celebrated more.  St. Theresa of Calcutta worked with the poorest of the poor, taking those society had rejected, those who were often treated like trash and smelled worse than trash, and embracing them with the love of Christ.  Or think about our own Michigan saint, Bl. Solanus Casey.  He was ordained a priest simplex, not given all of the faculties that other priests had.  He was a porter at St. Bonaventure, opening the door for and greeting people.  And yet how many pilgrims flock to his site and seek his intercession!  I think this is a beautiful way that God elevates the humble and shows their importance, even while so many "important" priests and bishops and lay-faithful are not counted among the saints and blesseds.  They may have exercised jobs that the world considered more important on earth, but an earthly perspective doesn't count for much, if anything after death.  

    Indeed, St. Joseph was a nobody in his own day!  He toiled without making much money, but had the important role as protector of the Holy Family.  While he was one of the most unknown among his contemporaries, he is numbered among the greatest of the saints, after the Blessed Mother.

    My dear first communicants, St. Joseph is also a perfect model for you today as you receive our Lord for the first time in Holy Communion.  St. Joseph was obedient to the will of God in caring for Christ during the time before He started His public ministry.  He cared for our Lord, making sure that He was safe, and felt the love that a child should from parents.  Like St. Joseph, Christ will be coming to you in a miraculous way.  Holy Communion is nothing other than a miracle, the greatest miracle we have.  God changes ordinary bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ so that Christ can enter the home of our heart and live there.  

    You, like St. Joseph, are able to welcome Christ into your home today.  Our Lord will be even closer to you than He was to St. Joseph.  Your "job" as it were, is to welcome Jesus into you, and live a life that shows that you want Him to continue to be a part of who you are.  No one else will know, except God, how well you do that, just as no one really appreciated all that St. Joseph did while he was alive.  But the better job you do at making Christ feel at home within you, the more you can look forward to an eternal home in heaven with St. Joseph many decades from now.

    I encourage you to never stop loving our Lord, especially in the Eucharist.  Never lose the joy that you have today at being able to receive the Lord.  And when you fall into sin, let that gift of Holy Communion push you towards the Sacrament of Penance, which we often call confession, so that you can, by the grace of God, clean your house of anything that makes our Lord not feel like a welcomed guest.  It is so easy to treat Holy Communion like something that is a habit, something you do every Sunday just because it's what we do.  But Holy Communion is the greatest gift God can give to you, greater than any present you could ever receive.  

    After you have received Holy Communion and returned to your pew, make sure you thank God for the gift that you just received in the Eucharist.  I imagine St. Joseph, before he went to bed each night, thanked God for another day that he was able to spend with Jesus.  Each time you receive Holy Communion, thank God that you were, once more, able to receive the same Jesus for whom St. Joseph cared.  In that way, you will live like St. Joseph, and receive the same reward he received for always caring for our Lord, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live for ever in heaven.  Amen.

Planning and God's Will

 Third Sunday of Easter
    I am a planner.  I like lining my ducks up in a row, and planning for what is ahead.  As an Eagle Scout, I took to heart the Boy Scout motto of “Be Prepared.”  Part of my vocation story is that, at the ripe old age of 13, I wanted to know what I wanted to be as an adult, so I could go to a good college for that profession, which means that I needed to know which college was good for that profession, and to get in to that college I needed to do well in high school, especially in the subjects that would get me admitted to the right college.  After hearing that part of my vocation story, one person commented that I was a Type AA personality (not just type A).
    Planning like that helps me a lot in some ways.  Generally, I’m well-prepared for anything I’m going to do.  I send in RSVPs to parties.  I usually get cheaper airfare for my trips because I buy the tickets far out in advance.  
    But in other ways, it does not help me be a good disciple of Christ.  It is very easy for me to plan things out, but not always to check to see what God’s plan is.  And being open to God’s plan is very important, both in the big decisions in life (like whether to become a priest, get married, or become a consecrated man or woman), and also in the small decisions of life (like what the Lord wants me to accomplish on a particular day).  
    In our first reading, we hear about St. Peter being brought before the Sanhedrin.  They had been ordered to stop proclaiming the Gospel, that Jesus was raised from the dead.  The old Peter, the Peter who did not often work with the Holy Spirit, would have probably found some practical way to appease both the Sanhedrin and also his fellow Apostles.  But the new Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, knew that God wanted him to share the Gospel, and help others to believe in Christ, no matter what the cost.  
    How did Peter know this?  Jesus had called Peter; not just the original call on the Sea of Galilee, when Jesus told Peter to go out into the deep and fish, even though Peter had fished all night and caught nothing.  This time, on the same body of water (the Sea of Galilee was also know as the Sea of Tiberias, or Lake Tiberias), Peter cannot catch anything until Jesus shows up.  And then, having brought in the miraculous catch, Peter gets some alone time with Jesus.  Jesus asks Peter to renew his love for the Lord (to make up for Peter’s threefold denial of the Lord on Good Friday), and then sends Peter to tend the sheep of the Lord’s flock.  Jesus even tells Peter that spreading the Gospel will lead him to have another dress him and lead him where he does not want to go.  Likely, as Peter was led by the Temple guards before the Sanhedrin, he was thinking about how the Lord’s prophecy was being fulfilled, as he was led somewhere he didn’t want to go.  It would ring even more true as he was led by Roman guards to an upside cross at Vatican Hill in Rome.

A depiction of the crucifixion of St. Peter outside Rome

    So how often do you invite God to be a part of your planning?  How often do you ask God what His plans are?  Sometimes God’s plans are made known through others (e.g., the bishop assigning a priest to a particular parish, or a wife sitting down to dinner and saying, “Honey, we’re pregnant).  Other times God can speak directly, especially in the silence of our hearts (which is why it’s so important to plan for silent time with God when we can reasonably do so).  Other times, God doesn’t so much have a message for us, but wants to be consulted before we decide to do anything, rather than just hoping that He’s going to go along with what we choose.  
    And the best place to put our ideas before God is here at Mass.  It may not look like it, but as we come to Mass we are before the throne of God, with the angels joining in our prayer, as well as the saints in countless number.  We give honor and glory to God, who sits on the throne.  Maybe you’re wondering about your job, or about your family size.  Maybe you’re wondering what to have for dinner later this week, or if you’ll even have time to cook dinner this week due to a busy schedule.  Maybe you know of someone who needs prayers and/or maybe some nice conversation, but you’re not sure what to say.  Bring all those things to God, and listen for what He has to say.  He may not answer how or when you want, but God always answers.
    To our first communicants, too, you are getting a new way to be close to God, who desires good things for you.  God loves you so much, and wants to guide you in your life.  And now that Jesus will be entering into you in a new way through Holy Communion, you’ll have a new, special access to God.  I know that we put a lot of emphasis on receiving Jesus, which is good, but it’s also important, in these minutes after you receive Holy Communion, to pray silently.  There are special graces for prayers said after Holy Communion, and both after you receive as you get back to your pew, and immediately after Mass, I encourage you to kneel down and pray in silence, listening carefully for what God wants to say you.  Don’t just run out to get donuts, or run to see your best friend who also came to church.  Take one minute to tell Jesus you love Him, to thank Him for being so close to you, and then be silent and listen for what God wants to tell you.  That’s the best time to hear God say something to you.
    So for all of us, children and adults alike, don’t just make your own plans, and then loop God in as an afterthought, or when things aren’t going the way you planned.  Go to God; listen for His voice and His plans.  And recognize that, whatever God’s plans are, as God says through the Prophet Jeremiah:
 

For I know well the plans I have in mind for you…plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.  When you call me, and come and pray to me, I will listen to you.  When you look for me, you will find me.  Yes, when you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me.

A Surprise Every Time

Easter Sunday

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

Palpatine killing Mace Windu

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

An image of the Resurrection from where it happened

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

Because of Love

 Good Friday of the Passion of the Lord

    About a month ago a Trooper I know well and his wife had their first child, a baby boy.  In the first few weeks I would check in with him about how things were going and how much sleep he and they were getting.  Those of you who have had babies know that, especially in the first few weeks, sleep is a bit of a luxury.  Their child was very used to sleeping during the day, but being awake at night.  Still, even with this lack of sleep, it was really touching to see how much this Trooper and his wife loves their son.
    The Trooper was talking to me one day about how he even loves changing his son’s diaper, because it’s his son.  This Trooper has nieces and nephews already, and he doesn’t really change their diapers, and has no desire to do so.  But, he said (and I’ve made this rated G since we’re at Mass), he is happy to wipe his son’s poop away because of how much he loves his son.  
    When we think about Good Friday, and what Jesus did for us, we often immediately go to the suffering, and how necessary it was that Christ should suffer and die.  Our first reading today from Isaiah lays out how the suffering servant of the Lord, Jesus, would take our sins upon himself and suffer chastisements for us to make us whole.  
    We often immediately focus on Jesus paying the price for our sins.  The wages of sin is death, St. Paul says, and so we recognize how Jesus took upon Himself that penalty that He did not earn (because He had never sinned) so that all of us sinners could have eternal life.  Sometimes this can make us have an image of God that is not accurate, as if God is some masochist who enjoys making others, especially His own Son, suffer.  We heard the agony of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, asking for another way, if it is possible, to save us, and it might make us wonder why God didn’t choose another means of salvation.
    But, I would like to suggest to you that we look upon Good Friday through the eyes of this Trooper and his (so far) only son.  Cleaning the feces from a baby’s butt is not an enjoyable task.  It stinks, it’s messy, and it often doesn’t happen easily because the baby is squirming around, or sometimes is not even done relieving himself when you remove the diaper.  But because it is his son, this Trooper finds delight in doing what he normally shuns and avoids.  
    So with us, God the Father, because of the Incarnation and by virtue of our baptism in which we were united to Christ, looks on us and sees His Son.  And what would otherwise be unbearable (as horrific as crucifixion is) becomes bearable because He is our Father.  And because Jesus and the Father are one, what the Father loves so does the Son (as well as the Holy Spirit).  So the Lord looks upon us with so great a love that nothing will stop Him from securing our salvation, and the possibility that we can be united with Him forever in Heaven, rather than being forever separated from Him in Hell.  
    There is no length that our God would not go to in order to save us.  He even descended to the gates of hell to rescue the just who were imprisoned there under Satan’s cruel guard.  His love for us cannot be imagined, and even the love of our earthly parents or even the love of our spouse falls short when compared to God’s love for us.  
    That love is what makes today happen.  Not some bloodlust.  Not some warped desire to make one person suffer for another person’s ease.  Simply love.  The love that created the universe; the love that holds everything in being; the love that knit us together in our mother’s womb.  That love will go to the greatest extreme possible to ensure the we, God’s beloved, are safe and wiped clean from the filth of sin with which we soiled ourselves.
    And it is to that love that we are invited to respond.  Yes, we are commanded to be obedient to God, just as we are commanded to be obedient to our parents, especially as young children.  Sometimes the delight that we should have in God is not present in our hearts because of sin or because of our lack of gratitude.  But that obedience is meant to stir back up in us the reciprocation of love for God that He first showered on us.  That is part of how the Lord wants us to be like children.  Children, especially babies, delight in their parents.  There is nothing quite like the smile of a baby being held in the arms of his mother and/or father.  The child, even before it can verbalize its love, senses the love from its parents and wants to return it.  So we, the children of God, should want to return, to the best of our ability, that love that God has for us, the love that even made going to the Cross worth it so that we could be reunited with God.
    Today, as you come forward to venerate the Cross, look upon it as the expression of how much God loves you and values your union with Him.  See the pain and the suffering, yes, but see the love of our Heavenly Father and Jesus our Brother which took that suffering and death as simply another way that He could show much how much we are worth to Him, and how much He loves us. 

The Ones the Lord Chooses

Mass of the Lord’s Supper
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  This is one of the weightier days for me as a priest.  I started this morning at the Chrism Mass, concelebrating with Bishop Boyea and my brother priests serving across the Diocese of Lansing.  Not only were the holy oils and Sacred Chrism blessed and consecrated, but we renewed the promises we made at our ordination.  It is a time of great joy, as we see each other again and catch up, and then celebrate the Mass together.  It’s a great way to celebrate the Institution of the ministerial priesthood, which took place on that first Holy Thursday.

    Then, as tonight starts, it is a very moving celebration, as I will wash the feet of twelve parishioners, this year from both St. Pius X and St. Matthew parishes.  What seems like a simple ritual has great import for me as a priest.  It is a reminder to me that my role as your pastor is to serve not to be served, and to give my life as a ransom for you.  Washing feet was awkward then because of the nature of how dirty feet were (given only sandals being worn, and likely some dung being mixed in with the dirt).  Now it’s the awkwardness of taking off shoes and socks.  But it is a treasured moment in my life. 
    Then, at the end of tonight, we will walk in solemn procession to the altar of repose and keep watch with our Lord, putting ourselves in Gethsemane.  The Lord was preparing for His Passion in Gethsemane.  At our altar of repose, I often think of the crosses I have borne in my ministry as pastor, some carried better than others.  I offer through Christ to the Eternal Father in the power of the Holy Spirit all that weighs upon me and all that weighs upon you as we seek to know and follow the will of God in our lives, no matter how joyful or painful it may be from day to day. 
    Returning to the washing of the feet, I couldn’t help but think of the Apostles, and what our Lord was doing for them, mixed bag as they were.  I think we have a tendency to think of them more like statues than anything else, religious icons of peace and serenity.  But the Gospels paint them as anything but.  Matthew, the tax collector and our patron here, was probably not easily accepted into the apostolic college, and perhaps treated with a bit of contempt among his fellow Apostles.  James and John were full of zeal, and John seems to have had a special bond with the Lord, perhaps because he was the only Apostle who was unmarried, like Jesus.  Andrew in the Gospels is a helper, as he is the one who brings the boy with the five loaves and the two fish to Christ.  Philip and Nathanael are pretty pragmatic, as Nathanael wonders if anything good can come from Nazareth and doesn’t believe until the Lord knows that Nathanael had been sitting under a tree, and Philip wonders how Christ could feed five thousand, given how many days’ wages it would have cost to secure food.  In the Last Supper discourse, Philip will also ask Christ to show them the Father, and that will be enough for them, to which the Lord responds that He who sees Him sees the Father.  We know little about the Simon, other than Simon belonged to the party of the Zealots, and James the Lesser was a cousin of the Lord.  Jude asks at the Last Supper why the Lord will reveal Himself to them only and not to the world, so perhaps he was hoping for a conquering king as a Messiah.  
    And then we come to Peter.  Peter was likely an extrovert, as he had to say something before he understood what he was thinking.  He has moments of greatness (think of his two great lines: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God” and “To whom shall we go?  You have the words of everlasting life”); he has moments where you want to face palm (probably not a good thing if Christ says to you, “Get behind me, Satan”).  He at first refuses to have the Lord wash his feet, but then asks for an entire bath instead.  He swears he will not deny Christ, only to do so some hours later. 
    And, of course, Judas.  Christ washes his feet, but then Judas leaves in order to betray Christ.  Dante puts Judas in the lowest level of Hell because of his betrayal of God, even going so far as to betray the Prince of Peace with a kiss of peace.  He later regrets his betrayal, but despairs and takes his own life in shame.
    These were the ones Christ came to serve.  They were as different, unique, and diverse as we are.  They were not perfect; some far from it.  And yet Christ chose them.  He chose them to be His first priests, to hand on the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, which are not mind-teasers to be solved, but realities expressed in symbol that run far deeper than their physical representation.  He did so knowing that one would betray Him, and one would deny Him.  He did so knowing that all would scatter from the garden at His arrest, and only one would be at the foot of the cross with Him at His moment of greatest need.
    And that should give us hope.  Because Christ chose us, too.  He chose us knowing that we would sometimes fail, that we would sometimes deny that we know the Lord, and that we would sometimes abandon Him when the going got tough.  He knew that at times we, like Judas, would betray Him.  He chose us with our differences, our idiosyncrasies, our unique ways of seeing the world. 
    And, as long as we have repented for those times of betrayal, denial, and abandonment through the Sacrament of Penance, He invites us to eat of His Body, to be strengthened so that next time we might not betray, deny, and abandon.  Just as He instituted the Eucharist at the Last Supper, the mystery of His Passion and Death presented for us under the appearance of bread and wine, but truly His Body and Blood, so He gives us Himself tonight so that we can stand with Him through His Passion, made present for us in these sacred liturgies of the Triduum. 
    The great sign of Christ’s service for us is how He gives Himself to us each time the Holy Mass is celebrated.  He serves us by nourishing us, strengthening us, sacrificing Himself for us so that we can have life within us.  As the hymn sings, “What wondrous love is this!” 
    So tonight, as you approach the altar to receive the Lord on your tongue, think not on your differences from each other; think not on the great things you have said of our Lord, or the horrible ways you have denied even knowing Him; think not on how you have helped the Lord to be known, or hidden His truth out of fear.  Think only of His love for you, a love that was obedient even to the point of death, death on the cross.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Christ's Rights

 Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion/Palm Sunday in Lent

The sections listed in brackets [] are for the Extraordinary Form only
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  In the United States we concentrate a lot on rights.  We talk about our rights as something to be guarded at all costs.  And some of them are very important.  Certainly at the top of the list is the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  But we also raise to the highest level lesser rights, things that are man-made laws.  Again, they may be important for a well-ordered society in some cases.  But we sometimes treat them as if they’re a sacred cow.
    Juxtaposed to this focus with rights is Christ in our readings.  All things belong to Christ.  He is King of kings and Lord of lords.  He created all things and sustains all things in being.  As He enters into Jerusalem, He enters into His City.  He is Son of David, entering into the City of David.  And the crowd feels it.  They sense that there is something more to Him than simply being an itinerant rabbi from Nazareth.  They wave their palms and lay their cloaks down, not unlike when David brought the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem.  

    The Lord has the right of calling on His attendants, the angels, to wait on Him in His city.  He has the right to cast out all those who oppose Him, as He Himself referenced in a parable earlier in His ministry.  And He does cast out the money changers.  But He does not set-up His own government.  He does not expel the Romans, and call down fire from the heavens to burn them up, and James and John suggested He do when the Samaritans would not welcome Him because He and His Apostles journeyed to Jerusalem.  
    Christ has the right to confound the religious leaders of His day, who are intent on getting rid of the One they fail to acknowledge as the Messiah.  He does not give in to their traps, though He sees them, but He doesn’t demand that they profess Him as the Messiah in front of the crowds, who have some sense that Jesus could be the one for whom they have been waiting.  
    In sum, the Lord did not deem equality with God something to be grasped.  Rather, He emptied Himself and took the form of a slave, being born in the likeness of men.  He even “humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”  Christ seems to give up every right that is His.  He could insist on so much, but insisted on nothing other than doing His Father’s will, no matter the cost.  His thought was not on right, but on responsibility.  
    As disciples who are supposed to pattern our life on Christ, is that the way that we live?  Do we cling to what we believe is ours, our rights, or do we humble ourselves in obedience to the Father’s will?  Are we and our desires the most important things in life, or is the Father?    Our Lord reminds us that whoever exalts himself and his desires will be humbled.  Whoever humbles himself will be exalted.  
    As we enter into this holiest of weeks, the Lord invites us to pattern our life on His, not on grasping on to our rights, but emptying ourselves in service to the Father’s will.  If we humble ourselves like Christ, then we will be exalted with Christ by the Father.  If we die with Christ, we will rise with Him in glory, [where He lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever.  Amen].

Lunatic, Liar, or Lord

Passion Sunday
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  
 

"I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him [that is, Christ]: ‘I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.’  That is the one thing we must not say.  A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher.  He would either be a lunatic–on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg–or else he would be the Devil of Hell.  You must make your choice.  Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse….You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God.  But let us not come up with any patronising [sic] nonsense about His being a great human teacher.  He has not left that open to us.  He did not intend to."

These words come from the great Anglican writer, C.S. Lewis in his work Mere Christianity.  And though Lewis never swam the Tiber, he certainly was a man faith in Christ.  

C.S. Lewis

                    Our Gospel and Epistle today lay out how our Lord is different, not just in His style of preaching or even His content, but categorically different than everyone who came before, or anyone who would come after Him.  As Lewis writes, we cannot simply refer to Him as one of a great line of human teachers.  To do so is to ignore the witness of the Gospels and the other New Testament revealed texts.
    The author of the “Letter to the Hebrews” starts by contrasting the sacrificial system of the Temple in Jerusalem, and the sacrifice of Christ in the Heavenly Jerusalem, the temple built without hands.  The Aaronic priests would offer sacrifices throughout the year of many types: atonement, peace offerings, grain offerings, thanksgiving sacrifices, votive sacrifices (those connected to vows made), etc.  Goats, sheep, bulls, lambs, grain, wine, oil: all these things would be offered according to what God revealed through Moses and the sacrificial system expressed in the Books of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.  And these did bring about ritual purity: the cleansing of the flesh.
    But our Lord offered Himself not with a dumb animal’s blood, but with His own Precious Blood, the blood of a truly unblemished lamb.  And His sacrifice, made once for all, did not only cleanse the flesh, but cleansed the conscience, the soul.  All sacrifices were meant to bring a person into right relationship with God.  They were vicarious ways of saying that the person offering was giving up his life to offer it to God.  Christ’s sacrifice was not vicarious, though, in the sense that He offered something else.  He offered Himself, and in Him all who would be united to Him.  And it wasn’t only to temporarily bring us into right relationship with God, but to change us to be like Christ, adopted sons and daughters in the Son of God, which opened for us eternal union with God in heaven, the ultimate goal of right relationship with God.  
    In the Gospel, too, our Lord distinguishes Himself from all others who came before Him in Judaism.  And the Jews notice it.  They ask if Christ is greater than Abraham and the prophets.  And through the back and forth, the Lord affirms that He is greater, leading up to the climactic phrase of this passage, “Before Abraham came to be, I AM.”  This hearkens us back to the great Theophany to Moses on Mt. Sinai, when God reveals His Name to Moses, “I AM WHO AM.”  And the Jews recognize this, because they immediately pick up stones to stone the Lord to death, the penalty for blasphemy.  Christ claims not simply to be a great rabbi who authentically interprets the Law and the Prophets, but the one about whom the Law and the Prophets referred, the source of their power and authority.  
    What does this have to do with us?  Well, while we’re all here, so we must acknowledge in some sense that Christ is different than any other religious leader, it is very easy in our mind and practices to treat Him simply like another guru.  It is easy to think simply of laws that we need to follow and prayers we need to say, without recognizing the adoration that we owe to the Lord and that we are not simply listening to another faith teacher, but dealing with the Lord who made all the universe.  
    It is also very easy to pick and choose the religious leaders and minds to whom we want to listen.  We like this cardinal versus that one; this author more than another; give one blogger more credence than a different blogger.  And faith always come through someone else, so others participate in fostering our faith.  But we can so often get caught up in lower-level rules and practices, without having any real reference to Christ and what He specifically teaches.  Especially as Americans, we have recently tended to read religious leaders and what they promote through a political lens.  Do we go back to what Christ reveals, He who is God, and evaluate religious leaders and authors by those standards, rather than the ones with which we are more familiar and likely more comfortable, that is, how does this match up with my view of life and my political outlook?  In other words, to what do I give more weight: the Gospels or my favorite blog?
    Jesus is not just another religious leader.  He’s not only qualitatively different, but categorically different because He is the one who shares Divine Revelation as well as the source and content of Divine Revelation Himself.  May we be most concerned with the One who simply reveals Himself as “I AM”: God the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.