Captain America vs. Iron Man

 Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    It is a natural phenomenon that we tend to have favorites when there is a group of people.  Not long after starting at St. Matthew I got into a good and holy discussion with some young men while eating dinner at a family’s house about who was better: Iron Man or Captain America (the correct answer is Captain America, in case you’re wondering).  We, of course, discussed why we each thought the way we did, and I tried to help the young man understand why he was wrong in asserting that Iron Man was the better super hero.  Luckily the discussion did not resort to physical attacks, though some verbal jabs were exchanged here and there.
    St. Paul, in our second reading, talks about such rivalries, not concerning super heroes, but about leaders in the early Church.  Some were on “Team Paul,” others on “Team Apollos” (an early preacher who didn’t have the full Gospel at first, but then came to learn about it from other disciples), or “Team Cephas,” (St. Peter’s Aramaic name).  You can just imagine the smarty-pants who, after hearing discussions about belonging to Paul or Apollos or Peter, said, “Well, I belong to Christ.”  
    The draw to individuals is likely based in natural affinities to certain personality types.  Others can draw us by their charisma, or the way they present themselves, and we end up liking what they like, and feeling a sort of belonging to them.
    And when it stays at a surface level, then that draw to particular personalities does not need to be problematic.  But, when that draw to a church personality starts to divide us against each other and make us exclusive, then it becomes a problem.  Because, as St. Paul said, Christ is not divided, and no one else saves us except Christ, not even the greatest leaders of the faith.
    To have the mind of Christ, we would do well to remember that Christ called diverse apostles and disciples.  We heard about Jesus calling the a few of the Apostles today as Simon Peter and Andrew were called, and then James and John.  While Jesus called two sets of brothers, anyone who has raised two or more boys can tell you that, while there are similarities, there are also numerous differences between brothers.  I’m sure Peter and Andrew were, in some ways, very different people, just like James and John were, in some ways, very different people.  And yet, Christ called them all.  He called them to conversion, to be the best that they could be, but He called different types of personalities to follow Him.  
    It is so easy in the Church, even today, to pledge our allegiance to this or that group, to this or that ecclesiastic personality.  Again, to the extent that this priest or bishop draws us to Christ: praise God.  To the extent that we seek to divide and exclude those who don’t follow this or that priest or bishop, then we need to repent.  Sometimes priests and bishops don’t help things.  I don’t know a priest or bishop who begins by seeking fame and celebrity, but once attained, those things can draw one away from the humility that is required if one wants to serve Jesus, rather than one’s self.  How do you know someone has become too concerned with his celebrity?  How does that person react when a superior starts poking holes in that status, or curtails speaking gigs and event?  That says a lot.
    But it’s not just about priests and bishops.  The lay faithful, that is, you, sometimes also make it difficult for a unified Body of Christ approach, rather than a tribal approach to living the Gospel.  How often do people attend a parish because of this or that priest, or pass by a parish because of this or that priest.  Now, certainly, you have a right to hear the Gospel proclaimed, and not some dribble that is a priest’s personal soapbox or agenda.  You have a right to the celebration of the liturgy as the Church gives it, not as some priest decides that he wants to add words, or dancing, or his own form of celebration.  
    But how often is the refrain, “I don’t like that priest,” heard among Christ’s faithful?  When one of my uncles, as a child, complained to my grandfather (God rest his soul) that he didn’t like his teacher, my grandfather told my uncle he didn’t have to marry her, but he did have to respect her and behave in class, and do his best to learn.  You may not like a particular priest.  But as long as that priest preaches the Gospel (not his gospel), then we shouldn’t seek to divide the Body of Christ by putting this or that priest down, or giving our allegiance to a priest or bishop, rather than to God.  
    I would also say that a good priest, while preaching the Gospel, should make us take serious stock of our souls, at least from time to time.  If a priest is only preaching the things we want to hear, then he’s not really preaching the Gospel.  Jesus called all to conversion.  It was the Pharisees who only wanted to hear how good they were.  And that is not a good group with which to be associated.  
    Affinities naturally arise.  We rely on others to help bring us to Christ, because faith is never a purely private affair.  But we are part of Christ’s Church, and we have been called to be faithful to Him, not to any apostle or disciple.  Stay in that Church, no matter what priest comes or what happens to a parish, and so be a part of the diverse crowd that Jesus calls to become fishers of men.

Proving Who We Are

Second Sunday after Epiphany
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  For whatever reason, I regularly get confused for other priests.  I have been told that I am Fr. Gary or Fr. Todd Koenigsknecht, or Fr. Mathias Thelen, or Fr. Mark Rutherford.  Since they are all good and holy priests, I can’t really complain too much, though I don’t see any close resemblance.  I then have to tell people that I’m not who they think I am.
    These days to sign in to many banks or online websites, not only do you have to use the right username and password, but you also have to give some tertiary form of identification, whether it be a fingerprint, or facial recognition, or even a simple code sent to you your phone.  Because of the many hackers who try to steal identities, businesses want to make sure that they know who you are.

Church at Cana

   We heard in our Gospel today how our Lord revealed Himself by the miracle at Cana, and the disciples began to believe in Him.  Nine days ago we celebrated the Epiphany, or manifestation of our Lord.  The Apostle and Evangelist John takes great pains to demonstrate who our Lord is by the signs that He performs.  In chapter 4, our Lord again is asked to perform a sign in Cana, and he criticizes that they will not believe without signs.  In chapter six, after the feeding of the 5,000, the Jews ask for a sign (as if one beyond the feeding of so many was necessary) to make them believe in the Savior.  And in chapter 10, as our Lord is describing Himself as the Good Shepherd, and saying that the Father and He are one, Christ says, “‘If I do not perform my Father’s works, do not believe me; but if I perform them, even if you do not believe me, believe the works, so that you may realize [and understand] that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.’”
    So this first sign, this first miracle, as our Lord changes water into wine, is a demonstration that He is not simply another rabbi, another teacher, but someone greater.  And that demonstration calls for each person to make a decision: to believe or not to believe; to follow or to walk away.
    But the signs of Christ are not restricted to things that happened in the past in the Gospel accounts.  Christ continues to work through His Mystical Body, the Church, and through the Holy Spirit, which is the presence of Christ in our daily lives.  God is working in your life each day.  But it does take some reflection to recognize how Christ is working in your life.  It often doesn’t come to our minds right away, because God doesn’t always do big works, but works in small ways.  But they are no less powerful, and they show that He is who He says He is. 
    Examples of how God works, whether directly or indirectly, could be: getting that green light when you’re in a rush; a friend unexpectedly reaching out to you; a memory comes to mind about something good that happened; a dream about a loved one that you weren’t expecting.  Or it could be that something works out well that you have been praying for, or some personal trial or suffering is shortened with our without us asking God to be merciful and limit the trial or suffering.  Again, if we don’t take time at least weekly, or even daily, to think about it, those moments will pass us by, and we won’t recognize how God is operating in our daily lives.
    But in addition to Christ being manifest by His signs, He also desires that we make known that we are followers of Christ by the things we do, by the deeds that we carry out.  St. Paul lists different ways that this can happen in our epistle: prophecy, ministry, teaching, exhorting, donating, governing, and being merciful and cheerful.  Some of those words might sound a bit intimidating, or “churchy.”  But they are not all that complicated, when we break them down.  Prophecy is not so much about telling the future, as it is speaking for God.  We speak for God when we communicate His word in our daily lives.  Ministry is about serving in the Church, using our gifts and talents to help build up the Mystical Body of Christ.  Exhorting is encouraging others to do what is right and just.  Governing is about making sure that we are not ruled by our passions, but rather ruled by the spirit of God, and exercising whatever legitimate authority we have over others in a Godly way, rather than by lording it over others.
    St. Paul continues that, to show that we are followers of Christ, God wants us to be filled with hope, be patient in suffering, and constant in prayer, as well as being hospitable.  We are to bless those that persecute us, rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.  When we are witnesses to hope, when we are patient, even though we are suffering or being unjustly punished, we we accompany others in joy and sorrow we show that we are living a Christ-centered life.  And that witness draws others to Christ, especially when connected with the earlier gift of teaching and exhorting. 
    Of course, to do these things is not always easy.  It is much easier to be downcast and melancholic about the world; to complain when we suffer; to avoid walking with others, especially in times of sorrow.  As GK Chesterton once wrote, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting.  It has been found difficult and left untried.”  Perhaps that is why so many have walked away from faith in Christ, because we have not demonstrated in our own lives what it means to follow Christ daily, to take up our cross and follow Him.  Others do not see Christ in us, and so do not believe.

GK Chesterton

    The world is hungry for Christ, but the world, especially today, wants authenticity.  They want to see Christ manifest Himself.  God does that on His own, but He also utilizes us.  May our lives as followers of Christ help to manifest our belief in the Triune God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Holy, Not Easy-Living, Families

 Feast of the Holy Family
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  The Book of Job is one of the great books of the Old Testament.  The main message of the book is that one can do everything right and still have bad things happen.  It was the prevailing wisdom that if good things happened, God was blessing you, and if bad things were happening to you, God was punishing you for something you did wrong.  
    I think that we can often fall into that same mindset: if something good happens to me, then I must have done something good, or God is rewarding me.  If something bad happens to me, then I must have done something bad, or God is punishing me.  This can certainly creep in to our understanding of family life.
    It can start with even searching for a good spouse: if I cannot find someone to love, someone with whom to spend my life, then I must be doing something wrong.  If I fall in love and the other person reciprocates, then I must have done something right.  Honestly, sometimes finding the right person takes time, and God can allow you to go through lesser relationships in order to learn more about yourself, or about the qualities that you would want in a spouse.  The key, of course, is to be willing to commit your entire life (better and worse, sickness and health, prosperity and poverty) to a person whom you will help to get to heaven.  And some couples who look perfect together sometimes are just infatuated, which they hopefully find out before the enter into the life-long commitment of marriage.
    It can continue with trying to have children.  Over the past two years, I have become more aware and more sensitive to the realities of miscarriages.  Whether it’s my best friend and his wife, family friends, and/or parishioners, I have come to understand better the deep pain and heartache that come from a miscarriage.  I have spoken with mothers who simply want to have a child, but it doesn’t seem to happen; mothers who love their unborn baby, but whose baby, nevertheless, dies in the womb; mothers who try to avoid all the things that could lead to a miscarriage but who still have to go through that agony.  How easy it can be to ask the question, “Why is God punishing me?  What have I done wrong?”  In the midst of that pain and heartache, we know that God would never kill a child to prove a point, or to get back at a parent.  Why some miscarriages happen or why God would allow it can remain a mystery.  But we know that God walks through that valley of the shadow of death with parents, and never leaves them without His consoling love.  
    Or, it can happen when the children are grown and are making their own decisions.  Despite the best parenting, children can make bad decisions and choices.  It is so easy for parents to take those decisions and choices personally, and presume that the bad choices are because of bad parenting.  But even in the best of circumstances, people can sin and can do things that they shouldn’t.  Look at St. Peter: he was one of our Lord’s closest friends, the leader of the apostolic college, and had great zeal for protecting the Lord.  And he still denied that he even knew the Savior during His Passion.  Would we accuse Christ of skipping over something that He should have taught Peter?  Or not loving Peter enough?  Of course not!  Children, especially adult children, have free will.  We can give them every good thing, and they can still walk away from those good things.  I think especially of the uncountable number of Catholics who have walked away from their Catholic faith, even though their parents did their best to give them a good foundation in the faith.  Or consider an adult child who, while being raised to say no to drugs and underage drinking, makes a choice to try a controlled substance or decides to drive drunk and ends us dying.  Free will is meant for us to say “yes” to Godly things, but it can also be misused to say yes to death and no to the life God offers.  
    So what do we do as families?  Do we give up?  Do we let our lives be governed by fate or the pagan idea of karma?  No.  We give our families the best chance of success by being strong in our faith in Christ.  We hold fast to the Church, trusting that, if we do our best, then hopefully others’ free will can be used for God’s purposes.
    If you’re seeking a spouse, we pray, like Tobiah and Sarah, to find the spouse that God wants for you so that you can come together, not out of lust, but out of doing God’s will.  If you’re seeking a spouse and not having much success, you might recognize that God wants you to grow in your trust of Him and His plan, rather than forcing things with your own plan.  You trust that God will reveal, at the right time, a person who can help you grow in holiness as a married person, if that is God’s plan for your life.
    If you’re married and trying to have children, by all means, use the knowledge of the human body that God has given to doctors and scientists.  But if your attempts at conception are not fruitful, or if you have to mourn the loss of your child who did not survive outside of the womb, know that the love that you have for your child is not wasted.  God is love, and so the love that the child in your womb received was a participation in God, and God will help you, either to conceive a child, or God may call you to adopt and share that love with a child whose parents could not support that child that they conceived.  Don’t give in to the temptation to play God by in vitro fertilization or surrogacy, which are both gravely contrary to God’s plan for human conception, but seek God’s will and God’s plan for sharing the love you have for a child.
    And if, after having children, they wander away from a virtuous life, whether the human virtues or the theological virtues, don’t give up praying for your children.  Don’t blame yourself, either.  Free will allows us to love, but when used poorly it can be very painful.  Still, it is better that we can love than not to be free.  Do your best to draw your children back to a virtuous life if they have strayed, and lead by an example of joyful and loving obedience to the truth.  Use prudence on when to protect adult children and when to let them experience the consequences of their actions.  But love them always, even if that love has to be from afar.  

    As we celebrate the Holy Family, it can be easy to think that if we simply do the right things, life will be easy and without burdens.  But look at the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph: Joseph died before Christ was 30 years old, making Mary a widow; Mary had to allow her son to perform His ministry of preaching, which led to His death on a cross; our Lord did everything right, and yet was rejected by His People, and even abandoned by most of His closest friends.  If the Holy Family had struggles, even though two out of the three of them never sinned, then we, who are sinners, will also have trials and tribulations.  But, like the Holy Family, bring them to our loving Father, who with the Son and the Holy Spirit live and reign, world without end.  Amen. 

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