Don't Take It For Granted

Solemnity of the Epiphany of our Lord

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  One of the great country music singers (in my humble opinion) is Merle Haggard.  One of those hits was a song called “You Take Me For Granted,” and was a number one hit on the country charts.  The song talks about being taken for granted in a relationship, doing everything he can to make her happy, all the while she doesn’t seem to care (sounds like a country song, doesn’t it?). 
    One of the things that we may take for granted is being a part of God’s people.  Because the Church has been around for 2,000 years, we are used to a truly Catholic Church, a church that welcomes anyone to join her ranks, regardless of race or ethnicity.  But what we take for granted was quite novel in the beginning of the Church, and one of the ways that Catholicism started to peel away from Judaism early on.
    Because the Old Testament is clear that God chose a certain people.  God chose Abraham, and then promised to be his God and to make of Abraham a great nation through his son, Isaac.  And then Isaac had Jacob, and Jacob (also named Israel) had twelve sons, who became a nation great in numbers.  From that point on you could talk about a Chosen People, a People God had made His own.  And it was God’s original intent that, through this Chosen People the nations would see the glory of the Lord and be joined to them, and so salvation for all those God had created would come.
    From this Chosen People God raised up a Savior, Jesus Christ, a son of Abraham and Son of God.  And most of His ministry was among the lost sheep of the house of Israel.  There are a few foreigners who receive healings and miracles from the Lord (the Samaritan woman, the centurion, and the Syro-Phoenecian woman to name a few), but mostly Christ ministered among the Jews.  The first proclamation of the Gospel after the Ascension was to Jews who were gathered in Jerusalem for Pentecost, and thousands were baptized.
    But then Peter had a vision from God, where he was instructed to eat unclean animals, which Peter says he had never done, and God said not to call unclean what He had made clean.  Then messengers from Cornelius, a non-Jew (Gentile is the word) came and asked Peter to go to Cornelius’ house, and, upon arriving, Cornelius and his household showed signs of the Holy Spirit at work among them, so Peter baptized them, thus opening Christianity up to those who were not already part of the Chosen People.  The Apostles met in Jerusalem to confer about this, with the newest Apostle, Paul, who had also been spreading the Gospel among the Gentiles, and they agreed not to make Gentile become Jewish in order to call themselves a follow of Christ.

    That major change (Gentiles being able to become the people of God), however, was prefigured in what we celebrate today: the visit of the magi to the Holy Family.  The magi were non-Jews, Gentiles, likely from Persia or there about, and yet they were led to Christ as the newborn King of the Jews.  The Persians probably did not care much about the Jews.  They certainly had not cared about King Herod.  But something draws them to worship this newborn King, and offer Him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Joseph and Mary, probably taken aback, do not, however restrict them, but accept their gifts with appreciation.  Who knows?  Maybe Mary kept the myrrh and was going to use it for our Lord’s burial.
    We probably take for granted that we can be welcomed into the Church, even though we are not Jews.  But we shouldn’t.  We should give thanks that salvation was opened up to all nations by the new sign of the covenant, Baptism, which is also celebrated today in the Epiphany.  God did not need to open to salvation to those outside the people He had chosen as His own, but He lovingly did.  We do not have a right to be saved, and yet God extends His salvation to us because of His great love for us.  In the magi, all of the pagan nations that surrounded Israel were represented, and Christ’s mission to all peoples began, even as a small seed that wouldn’t bloom for some 30 years.
    The mission of the Church is to continue to bring into God’s People, the Church, all nations and peoples, so that they can be in a saving relationship with God.  Can God save people who are not baptized?  Certainly, He can if He wants.  But the only way we know we can start that process of salvation is through Baptism, and so our mission is to welcome others who are seeking the King of the Jews.  Often times, they are led by means that may be foreign to us, just as a good Jew would have never attempted to practice astrology, the means that the magi used to find Christ.  But it doesn’t mean that we should reject their searching, anymore than Mary and Joseph rejected the magi.
    In fact, our mission as Catholics, no matter what our vocation, is to draw people to Christ, and to help them see how Christ is already working in their life.  We call this prevenient grace, the grace that comes before.  No one ever seeks Christ on his or her own; Christ always manifests Himself in shadowed ways that draw the person to see the light of Christ’s life.  That person could be a Protestant or Evangelical who sees a need for someone to authentically interpret the Scriptures.  That person could be a Jew, who starts to recognize the ways in which our Lord fulfilled the prophecies connected with the Messiah.  That person could be a Muslim who is drawn to not only be a slave of God, but a beloved son or daughter in the Son of God.  That person could be an agnostic, hoping that there is a God, but not knowing if He can be found.  That person could be an atheist, who asserts that there is no God, but yet knows that our universe cannot explain itself.  All of those people need us to draw them closer to Christ.  We become like the star for the magi, leading them to worship the true God in His fullness.
    We can often take for granted how great our faith is, and what a treasure we have in the Church.  But God’s choice, His election of us, is pure gift, something that we could never earn, and to which we were not entitled, because we were not part of His Chosen People.  But God desires all to be save, and He asks us to cooperate in that work of salvation, by drawing others to Him.  Be a star to those around you, and lead them to Christ[, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen].

Cut It Out

 VIII Day of the Octave of Christmas & Feast of the Circumcision of our Lord
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  God, in calling Abram out of Ur in modern-day Iraq, said many amazing things to him.  We hear at the beginning of Genesis, chapter 12, that God tells Abram, “Go forth from your land, your relatives, and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you.”  That, in itself, took a giant leap of faith.  Abram was being asked to leave the fertile crescent, the birth-place of civilization, as scholars call it, for an unknown land inhabited by unknown, and possibly hostile, people.  It’s hard enough for us to pack up our entire life and move to a different place.  Imagine doing it without having a home to which you were going, not knowing exactly where God was going to settle you (and whom you might have to dislodge to stay there), and doing it at the age of 75 years old.

    God also promised Abram, “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.”  Abram and Sarai (later Abraham and Sarah) were well past the childbearing years.  They had no children.  And yet God promised that he would make of them a great nation.  This must have seemed odd to them.  And yet Abram trusted in God to do the impossible.  This makes Abraham’s almost sacrifice of Isaac much later even more incredible.  God had finally given Abraham and Sarah a son, Isaac, and so perhaps they thought that becoming a great nation could actually happen.  But then God asks Abraham to sacrifice that son, that fulfillment of the promise, that promise of hope for the elderly couple.  And yet, Abraham is willing to do it (though God stays his hand at the last minute).
    Before that, in chapter 17, God appears to ninety-nine year-old Abram (who had conceived Ishmael with his slave, Hagar, but was still childless with Sarai), and says:
 

I am God the Almighty.  Walk in my presence and be blameless.  Between you and me I will establish a covenant, and I will multiple you exceedingly.  […] You are to become the father of a multitude of nations.  […] I will make you exceedingly fertile; I will make nations of you; kings will stem from you.  […] I will give to you and to your descendants after you the land in which you are now residing as aliens, the whole land of Canaan, as a permanent possession; and I will be their God.  […] This is the covenant between me and you and your descendants after you that you must keep: every male among you shall be circumcised.  Circumcise the flesh of your foreskin.  That will be the sign of the covenant between me and you.

Luckily, Abraham was open to God’s will.  Because, put in his place, I think most men would have said, “You want me to do what?  To my what?”  
    And yet this was the sign of those who believed in and followed God.  And this sign of the covenant endured even to the time of our Lord, who, though He was the Lord of the covenant, was still joined to Israel by His Mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and His foster-father, St. Joseph, in a powerful way that united Christ to Israel as the People who belonged to God, the sons and daughters of Abraham.  Even for those who needed to be joined to Israel, this was a difficult sign.  Indeed, when the Bible talks about God-fearers, it speaks about those who wanted to become Jewish, but who had some issue preventing them from joining.  One can imagine that the thought of circumcision kept any number of adult men converts from becoming fully Jewish and part of the covenant.  God our Savior, who had no need to become part of the covenant, still underwent this sign.
    But the sign had a spiritual meaning in addition to the physical act.  The prophet Jeremiah prophesies: “Be circumcised for the Lord, remove the foreskins of your hearts, people of Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem; Or else my anger will break out like fire, and burn so that no one can quench it, because of your evil deeds.”  Circumcision was a physical cutting away.  But God also intended it to be a spiritual cutting away of all that was fallen and of disobedience to God.  The covenant was not only to be part of one’s flesh, but also part of one’s heart, spirit, and soul.  
    Christ Himself, while He was subjected to the covenant as an infant, Himself established a new covenant in His Precious Blood, and a new sign of the covenant was given that had both a physical and a spiritual aspect.  That new sign was baptism.  The water washed one clean of original sin, but it also meant a washing away of all that is fallen from that point on.  It made men and women part of the new Israel, the Church, gathered from all the nations, as a people who belong to the Lord.  
    But think of the humility that Christ underwent in being circumcised!  He who is Lord of the Sabbath is certainly also Lord of the Covenant, and so is not bound to it.  But He allows the cutting of His flesh in anticipation of giving His flesh for the life of the world in His Passion.  He subjects Himself to the Law, though He is the Lawgiver.  And He does the same in His baptism in the Jordan, as John baptizes Christ, though John asks to be baptized by Christ.  
    This is a great model for us when it comes to humility.  How often do we bristle when we have to do something that we don’t think we should have to do?  How quick do we make known our importance, and how we think things should go?  But this is not the example of our Savior.  Like Abraham, Christ, the Son of Abraham, trusted in His heavenly Father, and went where the Father told Him to go, did what the Father told Him to do, and said what the Father told Him to say.  “Like a lamb,” Isaiah prophesied, “he was led to the slaughter, and he opened not his mouth.”  Yet, if we bear one unrighteous punishment, how quickly do we open our mouths to protest our own innocence?
    God does not call us to be doormats, but on the other hand, sometimes He allows the just to suffer unjustly for their own sanctity, their own growth in holiness.  The day after Christmas we celebrated St. Stephen, who was martyred though his only crime was to witness to the fact that Christ was the long-awaited Messiah.  The day after that we celebrated St. John, who, while not a martyr, was exiled to Patmos as a Roman punishment for following Christ; the day after that we celebrated the Holy Innocents, who could not even confess Christ with their lips, though they took His place with their deaths; the day after that we commemorated St. Thomas Beckett, who died at the hands of King Henry II for standing up for the rights of the Church.  These past days of the Octave haven been filled with witnesses who suffered unjustly.  Their witness should spur us on when we have to undergo sufferings much lighter than theirs.  

    I would also add Pope Benedict XVI to those who suffered unjustly, but utilized it for his own holiness.  He was often attacked in the media, was called “God’s Rottweiler,” despite his gentle and humble disposition, and suffered other attacks, simply for holding true to the unchanging teachings of the Church.  Yet I never remember him complaining once about those slings and arrows.
    God promised Abraham that he would become the father of kings and many nations.  Abraham remained faithful to God, even in hard times, even when the sign of that covenant meant the stripping away of flesh.  Christ subjected Himself to the Law, and paid the penalty for our sins, though He Himself was the Lawgiver and free from all sin.  What witness will we give through the new circumcision of the heart, holy baptism, by which we become united to God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

New Year, New You

 Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God

    In recent years, people have posted pictures of themselves at or shortly after New Year’s Day with the phrase, “New Year, new me.”  Usually it’s a picture of them at the gym, or going for a walk, or doing some other exercise.  As we start a new calendar year, it is easy to see how we want to start afresh, or start some new habit that will improve our lives.
    We tend to focus on the physical changes that we can make in our life, because we interact with our bodies so regularly.  While we can miss the incremental changes that happen day-by-day, we can look in the mirror and see how those small changes each day have led to bigger changes.  But when it comes to the soul, seeing those changes takes more effort and is less obvious.  
    But what can you commit to in this new year for your spiritual life?  What changes can you make to improve your relationship with God, and improve how you love God by loving your neighbor?  Some people go for the big changes, committing to major changes in practice.  I recently spoke with a young man who is doing Exodus 90, a program for men that is meant to help men grow in their spiritual life and relationships.  Exodus 90 includes 90 days of committing to a daily holy hour (an hour spent in prayer, often times in front of the Blessed Sacrament), and reading daily reflection on the Book of Exodus; cold showers, regular exercise, and 7-hours of sleep per night; no alcohol, sweets, eating between meals, soda or sweet drinks; no TV, movies, or televised sports; no video games and only using the computer and mobile devices for work, school, or essential tasks; fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays; and checking in with a group of men who are also doing Exodus 90 to be accountable and to encourage each other in the ascetical practices.  In case you’re wondering, I’m not doing that, though I know priests and laymen who have done Exodus 90 and found it very helpful for their spiritual life.
    But if you don’t want to do something big, does that mean you can’t do anything?  Of course not!  And I would encourage us to look at the Gospel for ways that we can do small things each day that can make a big difference.

    First, we heard that Mary “kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.”  Mary had a lot going on.  The conception of Jesus was especially miraculous; she was 9 months pregnant, and then had to take a journey to Bethlehem to register for the Roman census.  Then she gave birth in a cave, because there was no room for her in the inn.  Then, shortly after giving birth, shepherds (strangers to Mary and Joseph) show up to see what the angels had told them about.  No doubt, they told Mary and Joseph what the angels had said, and how they were singing “Glory to God in the highest.”  But she was able to think about these things, and how God was working in her life and in the lives of others around her.  She reflected on the struggles, but how God had gotten them through those trials, and how others were coming to see this newborn King that she had carried in her womb for nine months.  She probably prayed with some concern to God about how everything would work, but she also probably thanked God that it did all work out, and praised Him for sending angels to help others know about her special child.
    What is your prayer life like?  What do you take to God?  Do you pray?  A great spiritual practice, one that is easy to start, is to simply take 5 minutes each day, or take smaller chunks of time throughout the day, and see what God has been doing.  Reflect on your struggles, but also reflect on how God is getting you through them.  Thank Him for His care and concern for you.  Praise God for the little and/or big ways that He has shown His love for you.
    Second, St. Luke tells us that “the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen.”  Having encountered such a wonderful experience of God, they cannot help but speak about it.  They praise God in prayer, but I’m sure they also told other shepherds about what they saw, and thanked God that they had been privileged to see God work in such a powerful way.  
    God works in powerful ways in your life each day.  And that culminates in the miracle of the Eucharist in which you get to participate each Sunday and Holyday, and some of you even are able to attend Mass on a daily basis.  Jesus told the disciples, “‘blessed are you eyes, because they see, and your ears, because they hear.  Amen, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.’”  We get to encounter the same Jesus who said that in the Word proclaimed, in the Eucharist consecrated for us, and in the ways God makes Himself known to us each day.  Share that with others!  FAITH Magazine offers ways that people share their faith, but you can do it without being featured in a magazine.  People in our parish have experienced miracles, and they are quick to share them with me.  I’m glad to hear them, and I hope that they share those miracles with others, to help them know that God is real and does great work.
    Lastly, today’s Gospel ends talking about Jesus’ circumcision, which happened 8 days after his birth (today is the eight days after Christmas).  Even this helps us know how to grow in little ways.  We probably all know that circumcision involves cutting off.  In our spiritual life, there are always things that we can metaphorically cut off.  Jesus Himself told us in the Sermon on the Mount, “‘If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away.  It is better for you to lose one of your members than to have your whole body go into Gehenna.’”  God wants us to cut out the sinful parts of our lives.  That can be done in simple ways, sometimes going directly after the sin, like not engaging in gossip, or not taking the Lord’s name in vain.  But it can also mean cutting out good things in our life, in order to help us focus on the higher things of life.  I have encouraged this before, but I would encourage all of you to abstain from meat on Fridays, not just of Lent but throughout the entire year.  Even if you like fish (which I do), cutting out your options for what you can eat is a good way to die to our own wills, and simply feeding ourselves whatever we want, whenever we want.  Or, you could abstain from games or websites on a phone.  Or something else that may be just has hard.  Whatever you cut out, especially do it on Fridays, as a day the Church has always called us to sacrifice little things, to acknowledge and thank God for the sacrifice Christ made on the cross.
    As we begin the Year of our Lord 2023, we have a chance to allow God to renew us and to grow closer to Him.  Sometimes we will commit to big acts for God.  Other times we may commit to smaller acts.  But the key is that we strive to do the things that help us love God and neighbor more, so that God makes us new with His grace more and more each year. 

Charlie Brown and the Meaning of Christmas

 Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord

    I’m pretty sure my mom’s favorite Christmas show is  “A Charlie Brown Christmas.”  I’m sure we’re all familiar with the story: Charlie Brown wants a great Christmas, there’s a school Christmas play, Snoopy has decorated his dog house over the top, and the tree that Charlie Brown picks is a small, pitiful tree that barely has any needles left on it.  The play is falling apart, Lucy is being her usual self, and nothing seems to be going right.  Enter Linus, who, responding to Charlie Brown’s query if anyone knows what Christmas is about, says:
 

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.  And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.  And the angel said unto them, “Fear not: for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.  And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

There is so much that goes on at Christmas, so many things that we prepare for, so many parties to attend, presents to buy, houses to clean, that sometimes we forget what Christmas is all about.  And we’ve celebrated it so many times, that perhaps it has lost some of its newness and power.  Perhaps we have become numb to the real meaning of Christmas, what Christmas is all about.
    To properly understand the real meaning of Christmas, we have to start at the beginning.  Adam and Eve had offended God by disobeying Him and seeking to be God on their own terms.  They were sorry.  God accepted the apology, and sought humanity out time and time again, but humanity kept distancing itself more and more away from God.
    Christmas, then, is about God making the ultimate move of reconciliation.  We could not approach God on our own.  We were hopeless that anything could be done to fully restore what we had broken.  And knowing that we had caused the pain, knowing that we had done wrong, we stayed to ourselves.  But God didn’t leave us to ourselves.  He sent us someone who could reconcile us to Himself, and someone who could do so without shaming us.  Christ was and is one like us, but without sin.  He took on our human flesh so that we could be comfortable in the presence of God again.  God became man so that man might become God.  Rather than seeing us continually suffer by our separation from Him, He came to us so that we could be healed.
    And He came in a way that utterly disarmed us.  The Incarnation was like the Trojan Horse, because how could we not accept one so tiny and fragile?  How could we not smile at a cute baby, whose face looked like ours, but was truly the face of God?  It would be like being estranged from a dear friend or family member, not knowing if we could ever be amicable with them again because of the pain that we caused, but then that dear friend sends us a little gift, something that we treasure, as a way of restoring that relationship.  We certainly did not earn that gift, and would never have expected it, but that friend sent it anyway, and the healing could commence.  

    The real meaning of Christmas is God’s love and mercy for us doing the unthinkable: lowering Himself beyond all expectation, just so that we could be reunited with Him.  The snow is beautiful (though you may think otherwise having driven in it to get here); the glimmering trees and the presents that often are under them give us passing happiness; the favorite and timeless songs that we sing give our hearts a certain levity.  But all those things will pass, and will be put away for another twelve months.  The love and mercy of God will remain, long after the snow has melted, after the trees have dropped all their needles and the presents are forgotten or broken, after you can only find Christmas songs on YouTube or Spotify.  
    Are we willing to embrace that mercy?  Are we willing to accept the love of God offered to us to restore us to friendship with God?  It seems like a silly question, but sometimes, after we know we have done something wrong, we fear even accepting an offer of mercy and love, because we so define ourselves by our faults and failing.  We think that the broken relationship cannot be made whole again.  Or we are afraid that, having restored that friendship, we will break it off again once more.  
    As the angel said to the shepherds in the field at Bethlehem, “Be not afraid.”  We are not the sum of our failings, as Pope St. John Paul II once said.  God can make what is broken whole again.  And yes, we may offend God again, but God, through Christ, will reach out His hand again when we turn back in sorrow for our sins, and will not reject any who come to Him, even if our sins were like scarlet.  And he will not do so begrudgingly, but with great haste and intention, because He would rather lower Himself and take on human frailty; He would rather die than have one of His beloved be separated from Him.  So great is the love of God that He will go to any lengths He can to save us.
    That is what we see at Christmas.  That is what we experience in the Incarnation.  That is what we celebrate today, every Sunday, and even every day as the priest, and the people united with him interiorly, offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.  God loves you so much that He became like you.  Accept that great gift of love and mercy, and allow it to transform your life today, tomorrow, and all the tomorrows that you will have.  We broke off our friendship with God, but God has given us the opportunity to be His adopted sons and daughters in the Incarnate Son of God.  That is the real meaning of Christmas.  That is what Christmas is all about.

The Gospel CAD

 Fourth Sunday of Advent

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As a way of helping police officers understand the calls to which dispatchers send them, there is a system called Computer-Assisted Dispatch, or CAD.  The CAD gives us important details on the in-car laptops like the nature of the call (what we are going to), the name and contact info of the person who called 911, the time that the call was received, and any notes associated with this call that help the law enforcement officers respond.
    St. Luke obviously didn’t have a CAD when he composed his Gospel account.  But today he sets the scene and gives important details about the time of the Redeemer.  One might think that this is the beginning of St. Luke’s account, but it’s actually chapter 3, as the first two chapters dealt with the conception of St. John, the conception of our Lord, and the Visitation, as well as our Lord’s Nativity and youth.  This chapter begins the preaching of John at the Jordan, right before the Savior began His public ministry.
    But even though this passage is after what we think about when we think about preparing for Christmas, it presents a good point for us on which to meditate: God enters into our time and our lives.  In the pagan world, the gods and goddesses were usually either totally transcendent (they were too important to be involved in the affairs of mere mortals), or they were utterly immanent (they were often just more powerful versions of humans).  But the Scriptures paint God as both transcendent and immanent, as He is other-worldly (no one can see God and live after the Fall, and God sometimes seems far off), but He also directly involves Himself in the lives of His Chosen People (calling Abraham to be a people; directing Abraham’s descendants; freeing the Chosen People from slavery in Egypt; choosing kings; sending prophets to proclaim His message and way of life; allowing the people to experience the effects of their sins; saving them from utter destruction).  
    The ministry of our Lord happens in a very particular time, to quote Charles Dickens, “the best of times” and “the worst of times.”  Luke mentions Tiberius Caesar as the emperor, and Pontius Pilate as governor.  Tiberius was the stepson of Augustus, and the second emperor of Rome.  Tiberius inherited and maintained the pax romana, the Roman peace, which, ironically, had been brought about by no small amount of violence and war, but during which time there was relative peace and prosperity in the Roman Empire.  At the same time, Pontius Pilate, Tiberius’ governor in Judea, probably was not sent there for good behavior or as a reward.  Judea did not want Roman rule, and there were regular riots and skirmishes with the far-advanced Roman army.  
    Herod, while not Roman, only had authority because of Rome.  He was not respected among the Jews, and John the Baptist rightly criticized him for marrying the wife of his half-brother.  Because his rule was dependent on Rome, he likely enjoy the favor neither of Rome (because he wasn’t Roman) nor the Jews (because Rome gave him power).  St. Luke also mentions the religious leaders, Annas and Caiaphas, who will be named again in our Lord’s Passion, and who do not come off looking so good.  So, the time in which our Lord preached could be good or bad, depending on who you were and where you lived.
    God enters into this period, the good, the bad, and the ugly.  And that should give us the hope to which Advent pushes us.  Because our lives are often a mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly.  Sometimes our lives have peace, and sometimes we won that peace by interior fighting (hopefully not exterior fighting).  But that peace can also be very secular, and disconnected from our religious life.  There is a peace of God, which comes from following His will, and then there is a worldly peace, which comes from doing what we want and then doing everything we can to silence our conscience (which will eventually speak out, as the voice of God always does when we veer from His ways).  
    Sometimes we are like Herod and fool ourselves and try to make deals with our fallen human nature, and think that that it will give us power, and then we can simply appease our religious side with devotions, even if our life is not the way it should be, and not in according with God’s will.  We bristle at the prophets who tell us to repent, even as we are intrigued by them as well.  Like Herod, we want to listen to God’s word, but if something delightful demands our obedience, we cut off the head of the prophet because we lack the courage to do what is right.
    Sometimes externally we are very religious, but inside we are dead.  Christ often rebuked the Pharisees for this, for crossing their Ts and dotting their Is, but failing to truly live in a way that God called them.  They have the audacity to think that they can stand in judgement of God’s Messiah, and then make shallow gestures of religious rage when our Lord affirms that He is who He says He is.  Do we fall into that same trap of deciding that our way is the best instead of God’s, or that God has to fit into our standards, rather than fitting ourselves into His?
    But sometimes we are following God’s will, doing our best to live according to His Gospel, to allow His peace to transform our lives, and allowing our outside practices to be a reflection of our interior relationship with God.  Even then, we can always work and making more and more straight the pathways that lead, even in these last days of Advent, to God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

John, Pumbaa, and a Street Preacher

 Third Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]. For the first week of Advent I focused on waiting.  Last week I focused on preparing.  This week I’d like to focus on St. John the Baptist, who, as I mentioned last week, prepares the way for the Lord’s coming.
    Honestly, I always get the timeline with St. John the Baptist messed up in my head.  Because we hear about the Baptizer so much in Advent, I always picture him preaching at the Jordan before Christ was even born.  Of course, the Scriptures are clear that John was about six months older than our Lord.  So John’s preaching in the wilderness happens sometime around the Year of our Lord 30.  
    The Precursor, as he is also called, demonstrated an extreme care for doing God’s will, even others did not experience that care as normal.  John preached and baptized in the northern part of the Promised Land (the modern-day site is in Jordan and Israel, with the Jordan River acting as a natural border).  He wore camel-hair clothing and ate locusts (I’m sure Pumbaa would chime in that they’re delicious and nutritious and taste just like chicken).  
    People were drawn to this fire-brand in the wilderness.  The Forerunner (another way of referring to St. John the Baptist) drew many to his message.  Average people came to see him and hear him preach repentance, which they did, and many sought baptism.  Even soldiers (those would have been Roman soldiers) went to hear his message.  As, as the Gospel of John relates, this attracted the priests and Pharisees to examine who this character was.  They wondered if he might be Elijah (prophesied by Malachi to come before the Messiah), or even the Prophet that Moses spoke about in Deuteronomy.  But John simply identifies himself as the fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah, the voice of one crying in the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord.
    I often tend to think of John like a street preacher.  I can’t say that I find street preachers usually an example of attracting people to the Gospel.  I remember one street preacher who was preaching as I was walking back from an MSU football game when I was a priest in East Lansing.  He was telling people to repent from their drunkenness and debauchery.  Yelling is probably a more accurate word than telling.  As I walked past I looked at him, and he must have noticed my glance, because he then said something to the effect of, “And don’t think your collar will save you from the fires of hell!”  Perhaps needless to say, I walked on by him, as everyone else did the same.

Statue of St. John the Baptist in Ein Kerem

    Whatever that street preacher lacked, John certainly didn’t.  Even with his strange clothing and diet, people knew that they were not living they way they should, and his message encouraged many to repent and be baptized.  This baptism wasn’t for the forgiveness of sins, but prepared for the baptism of Christ, a baptism the Precursor himself described of the Holy Spirit and fire.  
    I think the question for us as we rejoice while celebrating Gaudete Sunday (that Advent is more than half over), is how we prepare others to receive Christ.  John basically set the table for our Lord, and when the Savior appeared on the scene, John faded away, as he noted, referring to Christ, “He must increase, I must decrease.”  Yes, we hear about him with some disciples while he is in prison, under the watchful eye of King Herod, but John’s importance is only to prepare for Jesus’ coming and manifestation.  
    One of the struggles when trying to bring others to Christ is to make it about us.  I’m obviously not opposed to personal stories that hopefully help connect you to the Gospel.  But I try to make sure that, by what I do and what I say, you can grow closer to Christ.  It’s not about me; it’s all about Him.  We are drawn to certain personalities more than others, and to the extent that they bring us closer to Christ, praise God!  But how it easy can it be to leave people only connected to ourselves, rather than moving them to the Redeemer.
    All of us are called to draw others to Christ, to prepare them to receive the Lord.  It’s not just the jobs of priests, deacons, and consecrated men and women.  In many ways, the witness of the lay faithful can bear more fruit, because your life mirrors other laypersons.  It could be the person at work, the members of your family, or even strangers on the road or in the grocery store.  Does the way you act and the words you say prepare them to hear the Gospel?  Or does it lead to scratching of heads because others know that we’re Catholic, but we’re not acting too saintly?  Are we patient with the waitress who is overworked and taking a little longer to get our food, or maybe even messing up the order?  Do we snap at the customer service representative on the phone, or give the one-finger salute to a bad driver on the road?
    Parents, in particular, have the special vocation of preparing others for Christ by demonstrating what it means to live the faith by the way they treat each other as spouses, and their children.  Do you make time for daily prayer?  Do you speak with respect to your spouse, and build him or her up?  Is discipline, which is necessary, done out of anger or out of love, and do the children know the difference?  While children will, eventually, make their own decisions about whether or not they will practice the faith (just like those who heard the Forerunner could choose to follow him and then follow the Lord, or could walk away and go back to their own lives), how the faith is lived out makes a huge difference.  This is true for the role mothers have (our moms are often so talented and sharing the faith with us), but is also true for fathers.  When dad practices the faith, the children are much more likely to continue to live the faith into adulthood.  
    John the Baptist had a particular vocation to prepare the way for Christ.  But God desires all of us to connect others with our Lord by the way we live, by the words we speak, especially, but not limited to, the way our family develops.  Are we leading people on winding roads away from God, or are we making straight the paths that lead to our God [the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen]?

Planning and Preparing

 Second Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  My best friend often teases me for how much I plan.  Just the other day in a text he said, “nobody plans like you do.”  And I do tend to plan and prepare.  As an example, September 2023 will see (if the Lord tarry) my 40th birthday, and I already have plans on how to celebrate and am preparing to execute those plans.
    Last week I preached about how Advent is a time of waiting.  Advent is also a time of preparing.  St. John the Baptist is the quintessential Advent figure, proclaiming, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.”  As a Church, we prepare for three things during Advent: to celebrate Christmas, we prepare for Christ to come into our hearts each day, and we prepare for Christ to return in glory.  As individuals we are probably preparing for family to come over at some point in the next month, perhaps even buying some food now; we clean our house and get it ready for a Christmas tree (real or fake) and the Christmas decorations; we make lists of presents we want and presents we need to get for those we love.  
    Of the three comings of Christ (2,000 years ago in Bethlehem, daily in our hearts, and at the end of time), the one that we probably default to at this time of year is the first Christmas, when Christ was born of the Virgin Mary in Bethlehem.  Perhaps we even think, especially as we just closed out the month of November, about Christ returning in glory and the final judgment.  But today I’d like to focus on preparing for Christ to come into our hearts today, and how we prepare for that.
    Because while the Incarnation was a unique event, as Christ took flesh in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and we could know about that Incarnation when He was born, Christ, in an analogous sense, becomes incarnate every day, as we offer to God ordinary bread and wine, and, by the power of the Holy Spirit and through the ministry of the priest, Christ changes it into His Body and Blood.  Each Sunday is a little Easter, as we celebrate the Resurrection, but each Mass is like a little Christmas, when God miraculously takes flesh before our eyes and we can look upon the God whom the heavens and earth cannot contain.
    Just like preparing for Christmas, there are practical ways that we get ready for Mass.  We get dressed (thank you for not coming to Mass without clothes!), hopefully donning nicer clothes than we would wear to go to a movie or a sporting event.  We make sure we don’t smell too gamey, and maybe comb or brush the hair, and maybe the ladies put on a little make-up.  If we have kids, we try to ensure that the socks match, the shoes are on the correct feet, and they won’t be too cold or too hot.  We leave (or should leave) so that we’re not walking into Mass after it has already begun, allowing a little time in case we catch every red light, or construction makes our detour from our regular route.  Those are all necessary preparations that we personally make for Mass, but which are altogether secular.  But how do we prepare ourselves spiritually?  Do we prepare ourselves spiritually?
    We can prepare for Mass by doing a good examination of conscience, and going to confession.  We especially need to go to confession if we are aware of mortal or grave sins, but we can also go even if we only have venial sins.  Allowing the Lord to cleanse us of our sins removes and obstacles that may get in the way of our reception of the Lord’s grace.  
    Preparation for Mass can also begin six days before Mass even begins.  Thanks to hand missals and the Internet, we probably always know what the readings will be for the following Sunday.  A great way to prepare is to read over the readings for Mass each day before the following Sunday.  Reading the Word of God is a great preparation, as the proclamation of the prophets was the same way the Chosen People were prepared for the Incarnation.  Reading something multiple times also helps us go deeper into the meaning of the sacred text.  And, if you have a child who is a bit squirmy and you have to step out, or if the homily is particularly boring, you can think about what you might say about those readings, and how God has spoken to you through the Word of God.
    Another proximate way of preparing is by fasting.  We are required to fast from all food and drink except water and medicine for 1 hour before receiving Holy Communion.  This means no gum, no walking in with a cup of coffee, or no other little food or drink delights.  The Communion fast prepares our body to hunger for the Eucharist.  It draws our mind and our body to the Body we will be receiving, the Body of our Lord.  Of course, this fast can be modified if our health requires some sustenance (such as those who are hypoglycemic, diabetic, or even simply pregnant).  But it can also be extended as a means of devotion.  Some of you remember when you had to fast for 3 hours before receiving Holy Communion, and a handful of you may even remember requiring the fast to begin at midnight (which is why the first meal of the day was usually had after Mass and was called breakfast–literally, breaking the fast).  I myself try not to eat any food before my first Mass of the day.
    On the day of Mass, proper preparation continues, as much as possible, by arriving at Mass before it’s scheduled to begin.  Again, with kids that can sometimes be tough, and even the best planning and preparation can sometimes give way to the practicalities of getting kids ready who may not always be helpful or enthused when it comes to going to Mass.  But generally, do we plan to arrive a little before Mass begins, or do we wander in sometime during the first reading, or second reading, or homily?
    Having arrived at Mass early, with whom do we spend that time?  There’s nothing wrong with catching up with friends before Mass, but God wants your time as well, and deserves it more than your friends.  Do you take time to quiet your heart, to make space for God’s voice, that so often comes in the silence by silent prayer before Mass?  There are a variety of prayers before Mass that one can say, or perhaps pray a decade of or an entire Rosary.  
    So often I hear the trite phrase, “I don’t get anything out of Mass.”  You might hear it as well.  I would encourage you to respond (of if you say it yourself, think on): “What did you do to get ready for Mass?”  Just like if we are not prepared for an event, we don’t get as much out of it, so with the Mass, if we have not prepared, we may not experience as many of the fruits as God desires for us.  You don’t necessarily have to be a planner like me, but make time to prepare to come to the celebration of the Passion of the Lord [who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen].

An icon of St. John the Baptist from the place where he was hidden during the slaughter of the Holy Innocents

Waiting

First Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  Advent, I would argue, is a time that is particularly good for our current culture.  I say that, because Advent is a time of waiting.  And we are, as a culture, really bad at waiting.  We are bad at waiting because, more often than not, we don’t have to wait for anything.  If I want to know something, I do a Google search or ask Siri, and almost instantaneously get a response.  If I want food, I pre-order it on my app so that it’s waiting for me when I arrive.  I spend the money for Amazon prime so that I can get almost anything I want within two days of ordering it.  If I need to send a message I can get it to the person immediately by email or texting.  We really don’t wait for that much in life anymore.
    There are obvious exceptions.  We generally still wait for weddings (though even those are happening much more quickly these days, as people, sadly, decide not to get married in the church).  We wait for babies to be born (though as a man, I’m not sure I can truly appreciate the desire of a woman, especially in the last weeks of her term, for the baby to exit the womb).  Those two precious events necessitate waiting, but the wait is worth it, as the joy of celebrating is even greater after the weeks and months of desiring that momentous event.
    Advent’s wait is primarily twofold: the remembrance of the waiting of the Chosen People for their long-awaited Messiah, and our waiting for that same Messiah, Jesus Christ, to return to us in glory.  The waiting of the Chosen People began before they were even a people.  Adam and Eve, after their fall, heard God’s promise of a redeemer, as God told the snake who had led to the Fall: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; He will strike at your head while you strike at his heel.”  Even then, at the beginning of creation, God promised a redeemer, the offspring of Eve, who would strike at the head of the serpent.
    Fast-forward some centuries to Abraham, our father in faith.  Scripture scholars estimate that Abraham lived sometime between 2100 and 2000 BC.  When God called Abraham out of Ur of the Chaldeans, God promised that Abraham would become a great nation, and a source of blessing for “all the communities of the earth.”  Of course, that happened through our Savior, the son of Abraham, but it took some over two thousand years for that promise to come true. 

From atop Mt. Nebo, where Moses recounted the Exodus for the Chosen People

    Fast-forward to around the 1400s BC to Moses, reminding the Israelites of all that had happened to them since they left Egypt.  Moses prophesied, “‘A prophet like me will the Lord, your God, raise up for you among your own kinsmen; to him you shall listen.’”  The Gospel according to St. John makes clear that some believed our Lord to be “the prophet,” the fulfillment of Moses’ prophecy.  But they had to wait almost a millennium and a half.
    Fast-forward to around the year 1000 BC and King David, resting from all his enemies, desiring to build a temple for the Ark of the Covenant.  God promises David, as the prophet Nathan tells him, “‘I will raise up your heir after you, sprung from your loins, and I will make his kingdom firm.’”  Christ is the Son of David.  As our Lord entered Jerusalem for His Passion, the people chanted, “‘Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”  And Christ even asks the Pharisees, “‘Whose son is [the Messiah]?’  They replied, ‘David’s.’” 
    Fast-forward to 445 BC, and the composition of the Book of the Prophet Malachi, the last prophet in what we call the Old Testament.  Through Malachi, God promises to send a messenger to prepare the way, and to send Elijah before the day of the Lord, and even that “there will come to the temple the Lord whom you seek.”  But even this was 445 years before our Lord was even born!  If you put the average age of a person at 45, that’s nine generations between Malachi and the Nativity.  Or, to put it another way, if you were around at the time of the first Christmas, the prophecies of Malachi were at the time of your great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather.  That’s a lot of waiting!!  And you thought waiting for Michigan to beat Ohio State in Columbus was long!!
    And we have been waiting almost 2,000 years for Christ to return in glory.  God continues to speak to us through His Church, and we hear about, and maybe even experience, miracles by which God reinforces His presence and love for us.  But we can become complacent, and think and act like Christ will not return.  He, Himself, tells us in the Gospel according to St. Matthew, that it will be like in the days of Noah, where Noah had prepared the ark according to God’s command.  Sill, there was some waiting before the rain fell, and people probably thought Noah was nuts.  But once the rain came, they had wished they had prepared. 
    Christ also tells us, in the Gospel according to St. Luke, that when we see the signs, we should be ready for the His return.  Those signs have been with us each century, which is Christ’s way of telling us to always be ready, because He could return at any time.  Our wait could be over in a heartbeat.  Have we given up on waiting because it’s been so long?  Or are we ready each day for Christ to return in glory? 
    It can be difficult to wait so long.  It can be difficult to live as we are supposed to when we don’t get what we want immediately.  The works of darkness can seem so tempting when we think we have time.  Instead, God calls us to put on the armor of light, to put on the Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Examining Our Year with the Fruits of the Spirit

 Last Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As we come to this last Sunday of the liturgical year, the last Sunday after Pentecost, it’s a great chance to take stock of the previous year.  Like many of us do daily examinations of conscience at the end of the day, this “evening” of the liturgical year affords us the opportunity to see how we grew in grace.
    We ask ourselves, did we allow ourselves to be filled with the knowledge of God’s will?  Did we please the Lord, and bear fruit in our spiritual lives?  Did we endure, were we patient?  Did we rejoice in the Lord and give thanks to the Father?  Was the trajectory of our lives showing more and more that Christ delivered us from the power of darkness and transferred us into His kingdom?  Did we forgive, as God had forgiven us?

    St. Paul mentions bearing fruit.  In another epistle, the Apostle lists the fruits of the Spirit that we should bear: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Those are great points of meditation for us as we examine the past year.  Am I more loving now than when I started Advent last year?  Do I show the joy of being a believer in the Lord?  Or, to use a phrase, if you’re happy and you know it, tell your face.  In my interactions with others, does my love manifest itself by waiting for others and putting up with their own shortcomings, just as God puts up with mine?  Do I seek Christ in others, and therefore treat others the same way I would treat Christ?  Do I seek the good, and not run to what is bad and troubling?  In my relationship with God and others, am I loyal, someone others can count on?  Or do I only turn to God when I need something, and not stay with Him when times are good?  When I correct others, do I act out of anger and vengeance, or do I see, the other’s conversion?  Do I give in to every passion that comes my way, or can I restrict the desires of my body and soul to make sure that they are in accord with God’s will.  This is what God asks of us as we, day by day, get closer to the end of time.
    We can spend a lot of time fretting about the end of the world.  Indeed, our Lord tells us that there will be many confusing reports, with false messiahs and false prophets arising.  But if we are persevering in following God, then the end is not scary, but rather the culmination of our response to God’s grace.  Notice, though, that I did not say, “if we are perfect in following God.”  I’m a perfectionist, and so I strive to do everything right.  But I don’t.  And I need to worry less when I mess-up, and just make sure that I learn from my bad choices, and seek to do better.  As long as I continue to strive to do God’s will, even when I miss the mark (which is what the Greek word 𝛼𝜇𝛼𝜌𝜏𝜄𝛼, which is the word for sin, literally means), as long as I keep striving to hit the bullseye, then God will have His victory.
    Another temptation, as we look back on this past year and examine how we responded to God’s grace, is to presume that, going forward, we simply need to try harder.  We certainly do always need to seek to be more open to God’s grace.  But the work is not, primarily, ours.  The work is primarily that of God.  Even in the epistle, St. Paul prays that we may “be filled.”  This is an example, in grammar, of what we called the Divine passive, which means that God is doing the act, even if not explicitly named.  Yes, we need to cooperate, but any good thing that we can do depends on God’s grace.  So it’s not simply that we do x or y, but that we, each day, open ourselves up to God’s grace more and more, and respond to that grace.  That’s how we make sure that we belong to Christ’s kingdom, through “whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins,” and who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.

"But for Wales?"

Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Fr. Mychal Judge

    For what would you give up your life?  Probably when we think about giving up our life, we think of our soldiers who have sacrificed their lives serving our country.  Or maybe we think about our first responders, especially firefighters who rushed into burning buildings, never to run out, or our law enforcement officers who rush towards danger when everyone else is running away, who were killed by gun shots, stabbings, or even by being hit by a car that wasn’t paying attention.  One of my heroes is Fr. Mychal Judge, who, as a New York City Fire Department chaplain, ran into one of the towers on 9/11 to try to rescue any survivors and show them the way to safety.  There is an iconic photo of first responders carrying out his lifeless body on a stretcher, an image of what laying down one’s life for the good of another looks like.
    So as we heard the first reading, we may have wondered what the big deal was.  These seven brothers and their mother refused to eat pork, because the Law of Moses, received from God, didn’t allow the eating of any cloven-footed animal that did not eat cud.  We might think that death is a bit extreme option, rather than eating a BLT. 
    Thinking about the cost we are willing to pay for what matters reminds me of a scene from “A Man For All Seasons,” about St. Thomas More.  Richard Rich, a former friend of Sir Thomas, perjured himself in order to obtain the office of attorney general of Wales.  St. Thomas, on finding the reason why his so-called friend should lie in court, said, “Why Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world.  But for Wales?”  In other words, was the perjury worth the promotion?

St. Thomas More

    Many tend to view life from a utilitarian point of view.  I would dare say that at least some of us here have utilitarian morals: as long as it turns out ok, then it’s ok to do.  In other words, the ends justify the means.  If I can do some greater good, even if I have to do something evil, then it’s ok.  But those are not Catholic, nor even Christian morals.  The ends never justify the means.  Even the pagans knew that.  One cannot achieve good by doing evil, as they run in opposite directions. 
    Early Christians had to deal with this dilemma, too.  As the persecutions continued against the new, Christian religion, more and more friends and family became known as followers of Christ.  So those who were responsible for their punishment, their own kith and kin, would sometimes seek to ease the requirements in order to avoid punishment, and, in most cases, death.  Instead of worshiping a false idol, or worshiping the emperor, some Christians were given the option to simply sign a document saying that they worshiped the emperor.  It was just a small lie, one that would save their lives.  Surely the good that could be done by the Christians in the future would be outweighed by their single act of infidelity to God.  Christ is merciful; just turn to Him for forgiveness afterwards. 
    There’s a word for those who did sign: apostates.  In other words, those who abandoned God.  At the end of the day, the pork wasn’t the big deal.  But what was a big deal was disobeying what you knew to be something that God had communicated.  The food wasn’t as weighty as the rejection of God’s ways, signified by the kosher laws.  The holy mother and sons in Maccabees were models because, rather than disobey God and reject His ways, they chose earthly death.  But, they also had hope that, while others could harm the body, God would reward their faithfulness, not only with the soul, but in the resurrection on the last day. 
    There’s another story from the Old Testament, this one long before the Maccabees, about King Saul and the prophet Samuel.  God had told Saul to place all Amalekite people and property under the ban; they were to be destroyed because of how they had previously oppressed God’s Chosen People.  But King Saul decided to keep some sheep and oxen, and spare the life of the king.  Samuel found this out, and confronted Saul.  Saul replied, “‘I did indeed obey the Lord and fulfill the mission…. I have brought back Agag, the king of Amelek, and…I have destroyed the Amalekites.  But from the spoil the army took sheep and oxen, the best of what had been banned, to sacrifice to the Lord your God.’”  It seems like Saul was doing something good.  He saved the best sheep and oxen so that they could be sacrificed to the true God.  But Samuel responded, “‘Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obedience to the Lord’s command?  Obedience is better than sacrifice.’”  And, because of Saul’s disobedience, he loses the kingdom, which will eventually be transferred to David, son of Jesse.
    Our view ought to be a heavenly one, not an earthly one.  What is best is not necessarily what helps us in this life, but what helps us in the life to come.  It is so easy to get caught up like the Sadducees, and see things from our limited vantage.  Instead, God sees all from an eternal vantage, and encourages us to trust Him, even when our minds can create some reason why going our own way appears better.
    I have not often taken the view that we, as Catholics, will have to undergo another persecution in our country.  I’m not quick to talk about the possibility that fidelity to God will cause us suffering.  But the more our State and country move away from God, the more likely we will have to choose between comfort in this world, and comfort in the next.  Already many Catholics have abandoned the position that all life is sacred, including the infant in the womb.  They have chosen their own logic, and why abortion is fine in some, if not all, circumstances.  Those who oppose are called backwards, anti-woman, anti-science, and misogynist.  If Proposal 3 passes, there will be no safeguards for conscience protection against abortion in our State.  Nurses and doctors may be required, in some circumstances, to perform or assist with an abortion, or lose the job.  What will be more important? 
    And what will be more important for you?  Staying faithful to the Catholic faith, to what God has revealed to us for our happiness?  Or abandoning the faith that Christ taught for social status, economic advancement, or even simply family harmony?  What is more important for you?  Status?  Money? Family?  Or God and heaven?  “Why Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world.  But for Wales?”