5th Sunday of Easter 2024 - "Apart from me you can do nothing"

 Back on the 4th Sunday of Lent, I shared some insights from the celebrated 20th century Catholic author JRR Tolkien, the author of books like the Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit. I shared how Tolkien believed that fairy tales and myths have been so powerful throughout the centuries because we love stories of good conquering evil. We love when we hear a story of an unexpected joyous turn of events—where grace and goodness triumph over sorrow, failure, and death. We love tales of courage and self-sacrifice.

And the Christian story is so compelling and joyous because it is the ultimate tale of the triumph of Good over evil, and it actually happened. Through the self-sacrifice of Christ, God has brought sinful humanity from the brink of ultimate defeat—the loss of our souls forever—to share in the victory of Christ. And again, the Christian story is not just a man-made myth or a fairy tale—Christ is truly risen.

Well, this last week, I celebrated mass with our school children. And I shared with them how since I was a young boy, I have enjoyed reading stories and watching movies like those written by Tolkien. How in his first book, called “The Hobbit”, this unlikely character Bilbo Baggins goes on a long journey with a group of long-bearded dwarves to recover a magical treasure from the clutches of an evil dragon named Smaug. The journey was treacherous and the dragon was formidable, but in the end Bilbo succeeds in recovering the treasure, not because he was physically stronger than the dragon, but because he and his friends were courageous and they used their minds to outwit the evil beast.

And I brought up the story of Bilbo and the dragon, because Tuesday was the feast day of St. George. And you may know that there is an ancient legend where St. George overcomes a dragon. According to the Legend a dragon was terrorizing a village, demanding tribute of trinkets and livestock, and when the villagers ran out of treasures and animals to appease the dragon, the cruel creature demanded the blood of a princess. So, the valiant Christian solider George, comes to the maiden’s rescue and courageously goes to face the foul and dangerous beast—slaying it with his mighty lance. 

St George has been venerated by the Church for 1700 years. Churches, Kings, Cities, States, Countries, and Beatles have been named after George. Pope Francis whose birthname is Jorge is named after the great saint. For not only courageously confront a literal dragon, at least according to legend, he also stood up to the Roman Emperor Diocletian.  Around the year 303 George was martyred for courageously refusing to renounce his Christian faith and offer sacrifice to the Roman gods.

St. George is always a wonderful saint to celebrate. For he models for us courage in defended the weak and the poor from the powers of evil, and that courage witnessed in standing up to the Roman Emperor—proclaiming with his life that Jesus Christ is true God, and that eternal life is obtained by becoming Jesus’ disciple.

St. George is also an important saint to invoke and emulate as we face our own dragons. Each of us face our own dragons, don’t we? Dragons such as selfishness, impulsiveness, laziness, resentment, disordered desires and ideas, foolishness. Dragons that want us to cower in fear instead of sharing the Gospel. Dragons that demand the tribute of our time, talent, and treasure instead of giving them to God.

But George’s story is so powerful because it is a reminder that when the life of Christ is within us, dragons can be defeated. 

Tolkien wrote that we tell legends and fairy stories to children not to prove the existence of dragons. Children, he wrote, know that dragons are real. Those stories help children learn that dragons can be defeated. 

And St. George triumphed over the dragon through the power of goodness, courage, and self-sacrifice. George’s life is a reflection of our Lord’s own triumph—his crucifixion and resurrection are the ultimate triumph of goodness over evil. Jesus has defeated the greatest of dragons—saving all of humanity from the clutches of Satan. And the Lord’s work isn’t done. For he wishes to continue to slay powerful dragons in the world through us—to bring deliverance and peace through us. 

But the great dragons of our own time cannot be defeated apart from Christ. “Apart from me you can do nothing,” he teaches in the Gospel this weekend. So, we must remain attached to Christ through constant prayer, and adherence to church teaching, and the sacramental life, and moral righteous living, and works of charity.

Now, the secular world foolishly believes that it can defeat the evils afflicting humanity without God. But biblical illiteracy, separation from the Church, dismissal of Church teaching, all allow the dragons—like war, perversion, broken families, drug epidemics—to multiply, despite our best efforts.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen, writing on the topic of war, points out that the secular institutions can issue peace treaty after peace treaty, but unless individuals put an end to the civil war within their own souls—where we pridefully oppose the goodness and holiness that God wants for us—humanity will continue to be afflicted with war and the greed and injustice that lead to war. Unless our own dragons are dealt with by the power of Christ—we will have no hope for real peace in the world. 

But, so many of the Saints bear testimony to the transformation that comes through union with Christ and the good we can do when united to Him. St. Paul in our first reading, went from being a passionate anti-Christian, a hunter of Christians, an agent of the great dragon, to a passionate and courageous preacher of Truth--one who suffered for Christ and his saving Gospel.

The conversion of St. Paul is a reminder that we should pray and work for conversion of those who are hardened toward Christ and his Church. For if Paul can experience conversion, anyone can, by the grace of God. We exclude no one from the call to conversion. And likely, the most effective means of the conversion and spread of the Church, is when we are more deeply united to Christ in the humble works of charity, in sharing the gospel calmly, patiently, but of course, honestly. 

What can I do this week, to draw closer to Christ so to bear fruit that will last? What dragons in my own mind and heart, have I been too lazy or afraid to allow Christ to conquer? 

How do we know we remain in him? If we keep his commandments and love one another. May we be generous in our faithfulness and in our love for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

April 23 2024 (school mass) - St. George and the Dragon and Christ's Easter Victory

Since the time I was a boy, I have enjoyed reading and watching the films based on the stories of the author JRR Tolkien. You may have read or seen them. He wrote a book called “The Hobbit” in which Bilbo Baggins goes on a long journey with a group of dwarves to recover a magical treasure from the clutches of the evil dragon Smaug. And they succeed, not because they are physically stronger than the dragon, but because they are courageous and use their minds to outwit the evil beast.

Today on the calendar of the Church is the feast day of a saint named St. George. And there is an ancient legend were St. George overcomes a dragon. According to the Legend a dragon was terrorizing a village in modern day Libya, demanding tribute of trinkets and livestock, and when the people ran out of treasures and animals to feed the dragon, the cruel creature demanded the blood of a princess. The valiant solider George, a Christian came to the rescue and slew the dragon. The town and the grateful young lady were saved.

St. George was later martyred by the Roman Emperor Diocletian around the year 303 for refusing to renounce his Christian faith and offer sacrifice to the Roman gods.

St. George is a wonderful saint to celebrate—he courageously defended the weak and the poor from the powers of evil, and he courageously witnessed to our Christian faith that Jesus Christ was crucified and is risen, and the eternal life is obtained by becoming Jesus’ disciple.

George is a fitting saint to celebrate during the Easter season when we celebrate Jesus’ glorious resurrection from the dead. Because in the story of St. George we see an echo of Jesus’ own triumph.

For as St. George triumphed over evil through the power of good, courage, and self-sacrifice, it is a reflection Jesus' own triumph—his crucifixion and resurrection are the ultimate triumph of goodness over evil. He has defeated the greatest of dragons—saving all of humanity from the clutches of Satan who desires the corruption and eternal damnation of our souls.

Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. He has defeated death through the power of self-sacrifice and love, and we, like St. George are called to imitate Him. For each of us have dragons to face—dragons such as selfishness, impulsiveness, laziness, resentment, disordered desires and ideas, like greed, and foolishness. And the Wisdom of God, and the Love of God, and the Power of God, Jesus Christ risen from the dead will help us to slay those dragons, that we may walk with God in this life and live with God forever in heaven, for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

 

Gospel

Lk 9:23-26

Jesus said to all,

"If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself

and take up his cross daily and follow me.

For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,

but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.

What profit is there for one to gain the whole world

yet lose or forfeit himself?

Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words,

the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his glory

and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels."

2nd Sunday of Lent 2020 - The dangerous business of going out your door

 One of the great works of literature from the 20th century was written by Catholic author J.R.R. Tolkien. You may have read or watched the film production of his “Lord of the Rings” Trilogy. This fantasy saga about hobbits and elves and wizards and dragons is heavily infused with imagery inspired by Tolkien’s Catholic faith.

The tale begins with the discovery of a magic ring. The main character, Frodo, and his friend Sam are tasked with the perilous quest of bringing the mysterious ring to a group of wise elves who will determine what to do with this dangerous artifact.

I thought of Tolkien’s story in regards to our first reading today. Abraham is tasked by God to leave his home, his native land, and venture to a new place, filled with strangers and enemies. A perilous quest for anyone, but particularly Abraham who was 75 years old.

There is a great scene near the beginning of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, where Frodo and Sam, having walked for about a day and half from their village, reach the edge of field, and Sam stops and says, “this is it…If I take one more step, I'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been.” To which Frodo responds, “Come on, Sam. Remember what my uncle used to say: "It's a dangerous business,  going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where you might be swept off to."

Sam spoke those words with no idea that his feet would take him so far from home, farther than he could ever dream of, and he would do things he never thought himself possible of doing. Like Abraham, like moses, like the prophets, like the apostles and saints. These holy men and women all took a risk of stepping out their front door, and allowing God to lead them to unknown lands, figuratively and oftentimes literally, further from home than they’ve ever been. God invites all of us to trust him, to allow him to lead us into the unknown, into new ways of service and sacrifice,
prayer and evamgelization.

In the Gospel we hear of Peter, James, and John being led up a mountain by Jesus. They had already taken the risk of leaving their fathers’ fishing businesses, following this itinerant preacher and miracle worker all over Galilee. And now, he was leading them up this strange mountain. St. Matthew uses this wonderful word in the Greek for Jesus’ act of leading his apostles up the mountain side. The word is anaphora. Anaphora means to lead up or carry up or bring up.  The word also has the connotation of offering up:  as in the high priest offering up sacrifices for the forgiveness of the sins of the people.

This connection of being led up a mountain and offering up a sacrifice, should certainly make us think of our blessed Lord being led up to mount calvary by the will of his father. And indeed, Christians have always seen the story of the Transfiguration as a foreshadowing of the Lord climbing the Mount of Calvary and also our vocation of following where our master has gone before us.
Peter, James, and John, like their Lord would go on to climb the mountain of suffering for the sake of the Gospel; they “bore their share of hardship for the gospel” as Paul writes to timothy in our second reading. Peter, like the Lord, was crucified. James, was the first to be martyred among the apostles. John, though he died of old age, suffered greatly, he was even boiled in oil, but he survived.
We must all trust the Lord enough to allow him to lead us up the holy mountain. It’s not an easy journey. It’s steep. It’s hard. It requires courage and fortitude. It might even be, like it was for Peter James and John, quite terrifying, initially.

But something happens at the top of the mountain that makes the terrible journey worth it. At the top of the mountain, we encounter God. And that too might be terrifying at first, as it was for Peter, James, and John. But that mountain top encounter with God, changes you, bolsters you, in fact, we long for it. This desire for the mountaintop encounter with the true and living God is deeper than our fears.

Pope Benedict writes, “This letting oneself be guided where one does not want to be led is an essential dimension of our service, and it is exactly what makes us free. In this being guided, which can be contrary to our ideas and plans, we experience something new—the wealth of God’s love.”
There is no doubt, for each and every person here, some place, that God wants to lead us, where we, initially, don’t want to be led. It could be because of our swollen ego, or our fear of suffering, our fear of being rejected by our fellow man. But each one of us, no doubt, is being called by God up a mountain.

That mountain’s name for some of us, might be “forgiveness”, forgiving someone who hurt you deeply. For some, it might be “chastity or self-control”, putting an end to unchaste or spiritually unhealthy habits and actions. For some, it might be “generosity”—learning to trust God enough to give to others more generously. For some, the name of that mountain might be “Confession”. The Sacrament of Confession is sometimes daunting because it requires us to name our failures and seek to change, a very steep mountain indeed.

But, atop each of these daunting, steep mountains, is an encounter with Jesus Christ, which will set you free and bring you joy. In the end, that holy mountain, is the only one worth climbing.
The Eucharistic preface for this second Sunday of Lent, proclaims how the Lord brings the apostles up the holy mountain to show them that the Passion leads to the glory of the Resurrection. We willingly undergo the sufferings of the Christian life because of that promise, that what we suffer leads to the glory of the resurrection.

So this Lent, take a risk. Pray more than you ever have. Read the Bible more devoutly and reflectively. Fast more strictly than you ever have, trust that the Lord will feed you with what you will give you life. And Give like you never have. Take a risk, step out your front door, climb the mountain. Offer him your time, your body and soul.

The early Greek Christians used that wonderful word Anaphora to describe the Mass. And we Romans Catholics too, refer to that part of the Mass as the anaphora, when bread and wine are offered to God to become the flesh and blood of Jesus the High Priest who offers himself to the Father for our salvation.

As the Lord is offered up, may we offer our lives in union with him, and allow him to lead us in holiness, to grant us courage in leaving the comfort of our native lands, further from home than we’ve ever been. It’s dangerous out there, but he is with us, leading the way, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.