6th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2022 - The path of beatitude and the path of woe

 

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus gives his most famous sermon on top of a mountain: his Sermon on the Mount.

In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus gives his first major sermon, which we heard today, not from the top of a mountain. In fact, St. Luke tells us that Jesus came down from the mountain, and taught his disciples and this large group of people on a stretch of level ground. This passage of Luke’s Gospel is known as Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, and is delivered immediately after spending a night in prayer and naming the 12 apostles.

In this sermon, the Lord teaches us how to live in such a way on this earthly plain, that leads to the joy of heaven. The path to lasting joy, he indicates, is the life of faith, one in which we place our trust in God rather than in money, in pleasure, in entertainment or in the esteem of others. 

Whereas Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount features eight aspects of the path to beatitude, in the Sermon on the Plain, the Lord offers four beatitudes contrasted with for “woes” or warnings. 

In contrasting the four beatitudes with the four woes, the Lord contrasts the way that leads to holiness and heaven with the way that leads to perdition. 

And the path of beatitude is a serious business, which is why the Luke introduces this sermon by telling us, “ Jesus raised his eyes toward his disciples,” In other words, Jesus looks each of us straight in the eyes as he gives us this teaching. It’s like a scene in the movie where the action stops and the main character stops and looks directly into the camera to explain what is really going on.

So let’s look closely at these four contrasts.

Firstly, the Lord contrasts “Blessed are you who are poor, for the Kingdom of God is yours,” with “Woe to you are rich, for you have received your consolation.” This was a revolutionary teaching and still is one today: earthly riches are not necessarily a sign that you are blessed by God, nor that you are on the road to heaven. Riches cannot buy you real happiness, and they certainly cannot buy you eternal life; you cannot buy your way into heaven. So, a life bent on obtaining riches is a misguided life. We must never, never, never allow the pursuit of riches keep us from cultivating holiness. 

The second contrast is “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be satisfied,” versus, “Woe to you who are filled now, for you will be hungry.” 

There are people who make earthly pleasure their highest good. They live to satiate their bodily appetites to the detriment of their souls. Those who are physically full without Christ are spiritually starving to death.

The Christian, rather, is to hunger and thirst for holiness more than for bread and water—to hunger for God and the things of God.

Fulton Sheen used to say that there are two philosophies of life: The pagan philosophy is first the feast, then the fast. The Christian philosophy is first the fast, then the feast. Pagan seek to enjoy the goods of the earth now, but are deprived of what is truly substantial. Christians practice fasting, and self-control of our bodily appetites, so that we may feast in the eternal banquet of heaven. 

For a culture bent on instant gratification this is a difficult teaching. But if we don’t learn how to say “no” to some appetites we may find ourselves indulging in what is forbidden and deadly to our souls.

Next the Lord contrasts “Blessed are you who are now weeping for you will laugh” with “Woe to you who laugh now, for you will grieve and weep.” 

There are many today who go from earthly diversion to earthly diversion, party to party, who don’t take life seriously because they claim they’re living for the present moment, as if that’s the most important thing in life. But in reality, they are trying to escape from reality, trying to insulate themselves from sadness and suffering as much as they can. They don’t realize that there will be a time when the music will stop, and poor choices catch up to you, not to mention having to come face to face with the eternal judge and being required to give an account of our use and waste of our earthly time and treasure.

Rather, the Christian, instead of running away from sorrow, fear, and death, we face these things with courage, faith and hope. There is power and grace when we unite our sufferings with Christ. There is heavenly consolation when we allow ourselves to weep with His blessed mother, or like St. Monica offer up our tears for the conversion of our misguided family members. 

Lastly, the Lord contrast “Blessed are you when people hate you, … exclude and insult you, and denounce your name as evil on account of the Son of Man” with “Woe to you when all speak well of you.”

Many people find it unbearable when people don’t like them. Social pressures are among the most driving forces in our culture. So when Jesus says, you will be hated by all because of me, some people, even Christians, say, fine, I’m not going to let anyone know that I follow Jesus, especially if my Christianity would affect my professional or social standing. 

The Lord presents us, here with a choice: will you live for pleasing God or pleasing man? Will you be a prophet or will you persecute prophets?

And this is a very serious choice—the most serious. Because this word “woe”—“woe to you” is a warning. Jesus is warning us that there are consequences for rejecting his teaching here. He doesn’t say, “it’s preferable if you are poor in spirit, but I understand, no big deal, it’s of no consequence if you ignore this stuff, live your best life as your feelings dictate them.” That’s the world talking. That’s the world perverting the Christian message. Living only for the earthly feast will mean exclusion from the heavenly one.

So, how can we take the Lord’s teaching today to heart? The Catechism recommends making an examination of conscience based on the beatitudes. That means reading through the Sermon on the Mount or the Sermon on the plan and asking yourselves questions related to these truths: “have I sought after earthly riches to the detriment of heavenly ones? Have I pursued sinful pleasures instead of practicing temperance, chastity, moderation? Have I given into diversions instead of bringing my wounds and difficulties to God? Have I hungered and thirsted for doing what’s right, working to right the injustices that I perpetuated or participated in? Have I retreated in fear when it was my time to witness to Christ?” 

Jesus looks us in the eyes, he looks into our heart and speaks these words of truth, that we may follow the way he has tread before us. We do well to consider all those things we should fast from, restrict, and restrain, in order to walk more faithfully the path of beatitude for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

4th Sunday of Ordinary Time 2022 - Murderous Intent or Rejoicing with Truth

 How did the people of Nazareth, in the Gospel today, go from amazement and hope in Jesus’ announcement that he was the Messiah, to murderous fury? That’s certainly the big question, isn’t it? What happened? Was it something that Jesus said? Hope do you explain hope and amazement transforming into doubt and then hatred?

I thought to myself, is there anything that I could say, that could elicit such a response? If I told a bad joke, there would likely be a few groans. Like, how much does a pirate pay for corn? A buccaneer. If I gave my prediction about who will win the superbowl, there might be a few scoffs, but you wouldn’t run me out of Church. If, instead of preaching on a theological topic, I simply talked about my favorite movies from the last year and sit down, you might stare at me quizzically, but you wouldn’t come at me with murderous intent.

Things might get a little bit more heated if I, say, spent the homily sharing my incredibly niche and polarizing political opinions. I don’t know how this parish reacted, but I remember in my first assignment, when the bishop had us read his statement on the HHS mandate which was to force Catholic institutions to pay for medical procedures contrary to Church teaching, we had a few mass goers walk out during the bishop’s message.

I came across a very telling article this week, that sited a study regarding the relationship between people’s political and religious beliefs. It claimed, that for a majority people, their political opinions take a higher priority than their religious ones, and that the Church they attend coincides more with their political beliefs than if that Church is purporting to preach the truth. 

So, again, if during the homily, I got too political, well, that might elicit a response of sorts.

But what if I started preaching heresy? I starting making claims about the Nature of God, the efficacy of the Sacraments that were contrary to the ancient tradition of the Church. What if I belittled beloved devotions. Well, you should get angry, shouldn’t you. That should elicit jeers, letters to the bishop, calls for my removal as pastor. You don’t come to church to be lied to, to have the faith demeaned and disparaged. I should be removed, if I did that. 

But it wasn’t a lie that caused the people of Nazareth to drive him to the edge of town to murder him. He wasn’t simply offering a bad joke or a divisive political opinion, though some may have interpreted his words in that way. Jesus was stating the truth. He was the Messiah. 

And when his townsmen began to contemplate the implications of that truth, amazement turned to doubt and doubt turned to murderous hatred.

When we are presented with truth, truth about God, truth about ourselves, we have some choices to make, don’t we? For example, if I’m in the habit of stealing from supermarkets, and I am confronted with the truth that stealing is evil, as taught by our faith, I have a choice to make. Reject the truth outright, that I know better than the Church, I try to rationalize my sin, saying it’s not really stealing if I want it really bad, or quit stealing and confess my sin to God.

Another example, if I was under the impression that Eucharist was only a symbol of the Lord’s Body and Blood, but then I’m confronted with the unchanging truth about the Eucharist rooted in scriptures and evident in the church fathers including our own St. Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, I have a choice to make. Reject the truth, thinking I know better than 2000 years of consistent church teaching, I try to minimize the importance of the doctrine, saying to myself, it doesn’t really matter, does God really care if believe this or not?” Or, recognize I was wrong, the Church was right, Lord, help my unbelief, in the words of the man in Mark’s Gospel, wanting to believe that Jesus could cast the demon out of his possessed son.

There are a lot of reaction to Jesus in the Gospels. And those reactions are the consequences of choices, choices to believe in the truth about who Jesus says he is, or not. 

The townsfolk of Nazareth, they discredit Jesus’ claim. He’s just the son of a carpenter. He can’t be the Messiah. They allowed their personal prejudices to hinder their ability to believe. 

Then, when Jesus explains how their choice to discredit him was akin to the hardness of heart and lack of faith described in the old testament stories about Elijah and Elisha. Well, they had another choice. Recognize the pattern of their unbelief and the veracity of Jesus’ claim, or, silence him, drive him out, murder him. Rejection of the truth leads to violence. 

Why is our culture so polarized, so ready to erupt into violence? In many places, in many homes, even in many so-called Christian communities, it is no longer rooted in the Truth. But Truth leads to love and peace. “Augustine says, nothing conquers but truth, and the victory of the truth is love.”

When we are rooted in truth, we are able to truly love. Love that is patient, kind, not jealous, not pompous, not inflated, not rude, not seeking its own interests, not quick-tempered, not brooding over injury, not rejoicing over wrongdoing but rejoicing with the truth., as St. Paul explains in our second reading today. 

The townsfolk of Nazareth certainly did not rejoice with the truth, but Christians, we must. For, truth is the only firm foundation for culture. We understand this. We hate fake news because it’s the dissemination of lies. Pope Francis, this week spoke about how spreading “disinformation” about COVID-19 is a violation of human rights. He said access to accurate information, based on scientific data, is a human right that must be especially guaranteed for those who are less equipped to separate out the morass of misinformation and commentary masquerading as fact that is available online.

At the same time, Francis asked for a merciful, missionary approach to those who fall prey to such distortions so they are helped to understand the truth.

"Fake news has to be refuted, but individual persons must always be respected, for they believe it often without full awareness or responsibility," he said. "Reality is always more complex than we think and we must respect the doubts, the concerns and the questions that people raise, seeking to accompany them without ever dismissing them."

The Holy Father’s approach is consistent quite enlightened compared to the anger and vitriol you see from people on “both sides of the issue” . Seek the truth, don’t lie to people, don’t minimize people’s concerns, but also don’t overinflate your claims, don’t violate people’s consciences, but patiently help people identify misinformation. 

Not one person in Nazareth stopped and said, “let’s listen to what he has to say, let’s entertain this possibility. If he is in error or a madman or a charlatan, the truth will be revealed.” No one was calm, rational, careful, or discerning. They jumped to discredit, and when they were challenged, they defended their prejudices with murderous intent. 

May the Lord deliver us from our prejudices, those which keep us from loving God, loving our neighbor, loving the stranger, and loving ourselves, those which keep us from rejoicing always with the truth, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

2nd Sunday of Advent 2021 - "Take off your robe of mourning and misery"

 

It was the worst of times….and the worst of times…During the most disastrous time in Israel’s history, the time of the Babylonian exile, lived the author of today’s first reading: the prophet Baruch.  The armies of the Babylonians had swept through Judea, killing many, laying siege to Jerusalem and destroying the city, burning the temple to the ground, and carrying-off the elite of the nation into slavery.  

Think of how horrific this must have been.  The chosen people, living in the heart of the kingdom, David’s city, and watching the temple built by Solomon be destroyed.  The Temple was supposed to be the spiritual center where one day all people of the world would come to worship in harmony.  Jerusalem is sacked, the nation destroyed, the temple burnt to the ground, priests and civic leaders carried away.  Think of something like the United States being conquered, Washington DC being destroyed, the capital and the white house burnt, our government leaders taken into slavery AND our churches demolished and priests and bishops arrested and taken away.  That is the background for the first reading today.  It seemed to the Israelites as if God had abandoned his people.

And what was the prophet Baruch’s message? Standing in the rubble of Jerusalem, the prophet says, don't be sad. “Jerusalem, take off your robe of mourning and misery; and look to the east.”  Why the east?  The east is the direction of the rising sun. 

So Baruch is saying don’t mourn. It looks dark right now.  But you will see God arise and set captives free, establishing justice, restoring the glory of Israel. 

And that theme of hope recurs over and over in the Old Testament: that in life’s darkest moments, when things look bleakest, we must trust that God has not abandoned us, that he will ultimately fulfill his promises to deliver us from evil. 

Just about 50 years after Baruch’s prophecies, in the year 538 BC, the Babylonians fell to the Persians, and the Persian King Cyrus freed the exiles, and allowed the Jews to return to Jerusalem and rebuild the temple.

Now fast forward, five hundred years. It was the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar,

when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas.

Again, another dark time in Israel’s history.  Tiberius Caesar the successor of Caesar Augustus was a ruthless dictator—oppressive, violent, capricious.  Pontius Pilate, a name we know pretty well was Tiberius’ equally ruthless and violent local representative in Judea.  Governor Pilate was only too willing to crucify Jews by the thousands; he raised the Roman insignia in the Temple, which was blasphemous.  Herod, the tetrarch of Galilee, and Philip his brother, were fearsome, hateful, ruthless, collaborators with the Roman Government. 

Annas and Caiaphas the Jewish high priests, as leaders of God’s flock were supposed to be men of righteousness, but they used their religious power for political gain, and instead of conducting the worship of the Temple in righteousness according to God’s commandments, they had allowed corruption to sink into Temple life.

St Luke sets the stage—he calls to mind this corrupt and vicious hierarchy which governed political and religious life in the first century.  And after describing these dark circumstances, Saint Luke tells us that God made his instrument not one of these high and mighty men. God used as his instrument this nobody, John, in the desert.  Not a mighty ruler, but a man eating locusts in the desert.  

And John’s message?  God is about to act again.  To all of you who are oppressed, beaten down, hoping, waiting, tired of the violence, the corruption, and the suffering: 

"Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God."

A change is coming, a revolution is on its way.  The destruction of the old oppressive powers is at hand.  God is about to act. So, “Prepare, ye, the way of the Lord.”

How are the people to prepare?  John called them to a baptism of water and repentance.  A baptism of water in the river Jordan, calling to mind the passing through the waters of the Red Sea, when God led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt.  God is going to free you, just as he freed the Israelites from slavery, leading them into a promised land. 

And John called them to repentance. The word he uses for repentance is metanoia, the greek word, that meant to change your mind, change your heart, change your attitude, change your behavior, so that it is in keeping with the God’s commandments. You can’t and won’t be prepared for God to break into your life without repentance.

The world of Tiberius Caesar, the oppression of Pilate, the religious malaise of Annas and Caiaphas had stunted their hopes, and the chosen people had fallen into mediocrity.  And John was saying, get your hearts and minds ready, because God is about to act, the in breaking of the kingdom of God in your midst.  

During Advent we consider how God has already begun such good work in us, bringing us goodness, freedom, and peace, but also how God, as St. Paul said in the Epistle, wants to bring that good work to completion. He wants to strengthen us in virtue, he wants to drive out hopelessness, he wants to conquer addiction, he wants to transform selfishness into Christ-like self-donation. But we have to do our part. “Prepare the way of the Lord” requires some work on our part. 

If you can’t identify some crooked aspects of your life that need to be made straight, look again. If you can’t identify some valleys of selfishness that need to be filled in with generosity, look again. If you can’t identify some rough parts of your personality that need to be smoothed over, look again.  

If God can break into history in the dark time of Caesar, Pilate, Herod, Caiaphas and Annas, he can break into our lives. The Gospel, however, exposes these men to be on the wrong side of history, for they rejected Christ when he came. But that doesn’t mean we have to be.

May we prepare the way for the Lord to come more deeply into our lives, by repenting as John tells us, by renewing our hope in Christ by taking God’s promises to heart, that the good work God has begun in us may be brought to completion, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - The sacrifices of widows and soldiers

 On November 11, 1919, U.S. President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed an Armistice Day to be observed annually, to honor the armistice ending World War I—with major hostilities formally ending at the 11th hour of the 11th day of  the 11th month of 1918.  After WWII, President Dwight D. Eisenhower signed into law, that November 11 would be a day to honor all veterans, and so our country celebrates Veterans Day, which will be observed this week. 

My father, uncles, and godfather are veterans of Vietnam. Both my grandfathers were proud veterans of World War II, and my great grandfather was honored as the oldest veteran of world war I in his hometown when he died.  

Providence would have it that November 11 is also the liturgical feast day of a veteran, one of our Church’s well known and beloved soldier Saints, Saint Martin of Tours, who is patron Saint of soldiers along with St. Michael, St. George, St. Ignatius of Loyola, and St. Joan of Arc.  

St. Martin of Tours was the son of a veteran, a soldier and officer in the Roman army. Martin was actually forced to serve in the army against his will at the age of 15. But, while serving in the army, he came to understand sacrifice, honor, loyalty as many soldier do. It was as a young soldier that Martin was exposed to Christianity—newly legalized after 300 years of persecution. Soon Martin began to desire baptism and was enrolled as a catechumen.

There is the famous story when on a bitterly cold day, the young soldier met a poor man, almost naked, trembling in the cold and begging at the city gate.  Martin had nothing but his weapons and his clothes.  So he drew his sword, cut his cloak into two pieces, and gave one piece to the beggar.  Some of the bystanders laughed at Martin’s foolish act of charity. But that night Martin had a vision of Jesus dressed in the cloak he had given to the beggar. The Lord said, “Martin, still a catechumen, has covered me with his garment.”

That which you did for the of my brethren you did for me. Martin, in sacrificing his cloak for a beggar, clothed Jesus. This beautiful scene is depicted in a stained glass window here at St. Ignatius in the east trancept. 

Martin’s act of charity toward that beggar, sacrificing the little he had to offer, was no doubt inspired by today’s Gospel, in which the poor widow gives, not from her surplus, but her livelihood. 

Remember, that widows had no inheritance rights in ancient Israel. They had to rely on their children, male relatives, or the charity of the community for survival. You could definitely say they had a fixed income. 

So, on this very fixed income, this widow makes pilgrimage to the Temple to worship her God. And in an act of love and devotion she takes two coins, representing a serious portion of her livelihood, and deposited them in the temple coffers to honor God and to provide charity for those who may have been worse off than she. Jesus notices this and praises her sacrifice, holding her up as a model for his disciples.

To most people, the scribes, the chief elders, the pharisees, and King Herod, these were the real pillars of the community. But, Jesus points out that the truly holy—those who are worthy of praise and emulation—are those who are beautiful and wealthy not on the outside, but on the inside.

Those truly worthy of praise are those whose generosity flows from their love of God, not the desire to be noticed by others. How often does Jesus condemns the scribes and pharisees for making a show of faith on the outside, while being far from God on the inside. He condemns them for the grievous corruption of what religious faith is supposed to be—not outward show, but inner union with the heart of God. 

The widow, the saints, like St. Martin, so many of our veterans who leave family and country to serve freedom, show us what the heart of God looks like: Self-sacrifice, trust in God, boundless generosity, willingness to mocked for charity’s sake, like Martin was mocked by his fellow soldiers, like the widow would have been mocked by her countrymen.

While visiting Cuba a few years ago, Pope Francis spoke of how the spirit of the world differs from the Spirit of Christ. He said, “The spirit of the world does not love the way of the Son of God, who emptied himself and became poor. He became nothing — he humiliated himself in order to be one of us.”  The world mocks the way of Christ. Self-sacrifice, faith, trust, these characteristics are not valued by modern society.

But the way that leads to life is the way of Christ—of self-emptying generosity. The saints who we began the month celebrating on All Saints day, over and over give us these powerful beautiful models of what holiness looks like. That when we give ourselves away like Christ we become rich in the things of God. 

So, please, sometime today or this week: think back to the example of the widow. How is God calling you to that sort of trust and generosity? On Thursday, think of the veterans, think of St. Martin, how are you called to give part of your cloak to the poor, in service of country, and church. 

On the day of our judgment, those things, those earthly treasures, the time we gave to God, will testify on our behalf. So may we be deeply and profoundly generous with God, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - To inherit eternal life

 

“Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” We heard this question from the lips of a young jewish man in the Gospel today. It’s an important question. And one of the great concern many priests and probably many of you have is that so few of today’s young people and so few of our family members consider this question important.  It’s certainly one of the symptoms of the secularism and materialism of our age: this indifference to eternity.

Many ask questions  like, “what must I do to get into Harvard, what must I do to be a famous athlete, what must I do to make my first million by the age of 30?” Some sadly, are concerned only with, “what must I do to have as much pleasure as I can?”  These are all valid questions if one is merely concerned with earthly happiness and temporal success.  But, there is something more, something more important. Not just temporal reality, but ultimate, eternal reality. It’s quite possible, the Lord says elsewhere, to have all of these earthly desires fulfilled, while losing one’s soul: what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, but to lose one’s soul. Our eternal soul is of incomparable value to any earthly reality.

So the question beginning this Gospel, is a good question, the most important. “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 

When asked the big question by this young man, the Lord begins his answer by enumerating the commandments, specifically the commandments from the second tablet of the law of Moses, the ones that have to do with morality--the “thou shalt nots” thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not commit adultery.  You want to attain eternal life? How you treat people matters. The moral choices you make matter. There is an inextricable link to the moral choices we make in this life and how we will spend eternity. 

St. Paul repeatedly takes us this theme in his epistles. To the Corinthians Paul writes that “we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive good or evil, according to what he has done in the body” And in our second reading today, Paul speaks about this accounting. All people of all time will have to render an account of our actions, our choices. Those who walked in righteousness will go on to their eternal reward, the Lord says in Matthew 25, while the wicked will go on to eternal perdition.

The Catechism synthesizes this teaching saying, “eternal retribution” will be “received by each soul at the very moment of death…either with entrance into the blessedness of Heaven…or immediate and everlasting damnation” What we do in this life matters. 

There is of course forgiveness for our immorality, for our sins, through Christ and Christ alone. For those who seek forgiveness, and seek conversion from immorality, forgiveness is given. But like the young man in the Gospel today, Christians must seek obedience to those “thou shalt nots” and seek constant conversion from sin. 

After the Lord enumerates the commandments, the young man confidently tells him, “Teacher, I’ve observed all these from my youth”.  Not only is this young man asking the right questions, seeking answers from the right person, he has brought his life into conformity to the wisdom and truth of God. He shows that he is serious about eternal life. 

The Lord then acknowledging that in this young man, the fundamental are in place, the aspirations are right. And then St. Mark offers one of the most beautiful lines in his entire Gospel, did you catch it? “Jesus looking at him, loved him”. This is the only time in the Gospel of Mark, that Jesus is said to have looked with love on an individual. This is a very special moment. This is the gaze of divine love with which Jesus looks upon all of us—the burning love of the Sacred Heart he has for each one of us. God looks upon us, he wants salvation for us, he wants eternal life for us..

This is the gaze of divine love that has captivated the hearts of generations of Christian to live for Christ; this love has captivated the saints to pour their lives out in service, to spend their lives growing in the experience of that love through prayer, penance, and charitable works. It is the love that captivated the holy martyrs, who recognized in that gaze, the most important thing in the world, that which is worth dying for, knowing, loving, and being loved by God in this life and for all eternity.

Sadly, like so many today, it seems this young man in the Gospel was too preoccupied with his earthly treasures to detect Jesus’ love for him.

“You are lacking in one thing” Jesus says…what’s that one thing? It wasn't obedience to the commandments, he had that. The Christian life requires more than this. The young man lacked faith that corresponds with the willingness to give up earthly things to obtain heaven. He is unwilling to let go of his old way of life to follow Jesus. We go from hearing the most beautiful words in the Gospel, to the saddest words: Jesus called the man to holiness, but at this statement, the young man’s face fell, and he went away sad. 

When Jesus calls us and we do not follow, sadness and regret, will always ensue, that’s true for this life, and that’s true for eternity. Eternal sadness, eternal regret is the consequences for rejecting God’s invitation, which he will not force upon us, or else it is not an invitation.

But we never regret following Him, accepting his invitation on the great adventure of Christian discipleship. We never regret refusing to settle for spiritual mediocrity, seeking conversion from selfishness, impurity, pride, and anger. We never regret the time we set aside each day to meditate on his holy word, listening to his voice, seeking his face, engaging in holy works prescribed by Him. 

Even when there are social consequences for being a following Jesus and remaining firm in his truth, there are no regrets, only perhaps, that we weren’t more fervent.

As the Lord invited the young man to give up his possession to follow him, the Lord invites us to give up the things, the possessions, the habits, which might obstruct our entrance into eternal life. We do well to identify the earthly attachments, the vices, the sinful habitual behaviors and ways of treating people, and the fears, that keep us from the life of freedom and joy the Lord wants for us.

He looks upon us each of us with ineffable love and invites us to follow Him on the great adventure. May we set aside all that keeps us from growing in the life of grace, all that is hindering us on the path of wisdom and love, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - Marriage in God's Plan

 
I mentioned to Cara, our Parish Secretary this week that the lazy days of summer have certainly come to an end here at Saint Ignatius.  RCIA is off and running, monthly Taize prayer services will be beginning this month, PSR is in session, the day school is already half way through its first quarter.  Our Clambake is coming up next Sunday, the basketball league is beginning sign-ups, weekly bible study is ongoing, , legion of mary and st. Vincent de paul continue to meet, our new monthly young adult group draws young catholics from across the diocese, we’re going to begin a repair project on our stained glass windows, and don’t tell our music director, but advent is only two months away.

And all this on top of the normal rhythm of parish life: the joy of celebrating daily Mass, confessions seem to be a bit more popular than when I arrived two and a half years ago, anointings, marriages, baptisms, parish staff meetings, even, really aren’t that bad. But, one of the highlights for me each month is our first Friday Eucharistic Holy Hour.

Last night, I had a wedding rehearsal, for one of our last weddings of the year and then we had our holy hour. And after a very long week, that holy hour really hit the spot. And realizing I hadn’t really come up with anything for my weekend homily, I so I asked the Lord what he might want me to preach on this weekend: both at our Saturday wedding and then for our weekend masses. And I began to see a little overlap.

Our first reading and the Gospel this weekend are readings chosen often by couples for their wedding Mass. I always think it’s rather profound that the era of livestreaming and twelfth generation iphones, couples choose for their wedding a passage from this 3500 year-old ancient text from the first book of the Bible, the book of Genesis. And in it, we find that the ancient biblical vision for marriage, God’s vision, is not outdated, it’s not a relic of the past we have yet to discard—like an embarrassing photo from our teenage years. It’s as relevant as ever, because it is truly God’s word.  

In this passage, our first reading, we read of the origin, the genesis of the first marriage in human history: a match made in the earthly paradise, in the Garden of Eden. 

Adam had been created first. And while working and laboring in the Garden, Adam experienced this deep longing: this longing not just for a friend, but a wife. The Creator acknowledged that this longing was by design—he says it’s not good for man to be alone…this longing for a wife was placed in the man’s heart by God from the beginning. It’s all part of the plan.  So God gets to work again, in order to complete his Creation. He puts the man into a deep slumber and creates a wife for Him.

Upon awaking from his deep slumber, the man let’s out this joyous exclamation when he glimpses his bride. He says, “AT LAST!” 

When I prepare couples for marriage, I meet with them for a minimum of six months, for many of them sometimes over a year. After all those years of dating and marriage preparation, their wedding day has “At Last” arrived—the day when two become one.

So what we have here in the very first book of the Bible is God’s Word teaching us that marriage is not a mere human institution, but has been established by God from the foundation of the world. “This is why a man leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife”—a holy longing placed in our hearts is fulfilled in the holy union of matrimony. 

This passage is of such great importance that Jesus quotes this passage verbatim in the Gospels. The Lord quotes this passage from Genesis in his explanation of why divorce is not possible and not part of the plan of God. In lawful, Sacramental marriage, like Adam and Eve, Bride and Groom become One—a new creation. They are joined together by God and cannot be separated.  What God has joined man cannot separate.

Most couples, when asked, “Why get married?” give a two-fold answer: “Because we love each other and want to start a family.” This answer is consistent with Church teaching that the purpose of marriage is twofold: unity and procreation—to be joined in mutual love and to bear children.

The Sacrament of Marriage is powerful because it helps couples be faithful to these two ends. That can’t be said for a couple who simply enters into a so-called civil marriage before a Justice of the Peace. Through the Sacrament of Marriage, celebrated according to Church law, God abundantly blesses husband and wife, giving them the strength they need to love and honor each other, for better, for worse, through sickness and health in an indissoluble bond. It also gives them special grace for the tremendously difficult role of being Christian parents, especially in the 21st century. 

Raising a Christian child now, in a culture which is increasingly hostile to our faith, is no doubt, one of the greatest challenges Christian families have ever had face. But through the Sacrament of Marriage, God’s special grace is there.

Additionally, the Sacrament of Marriage does something that most couples probably aren’t thinking of when they approach the priest for marriage preparation. The Sacrament of Marriage turns Christian Husband and Wife into a sort of living Sacrament—visible signs of Love. Christian husband and wife shows us that in this broken world, love is possible—love is real. 

This is why the Devil hates Christian marriage and does everything he can to pervert it, break it up, and undermine it as an institution. He hates it because it is a reflection of God. No wonder he wants to deface it and promote disrespect for it, to spread lies like “God never intended one man to love one woman for the rest of his life.” It’s a lie having its genesis with the Father of lies, who himself refused to love God for the duration of his life. The Devil doesn’t want us to believe in love, not true love, only in counterfeit, perverted substitutes: to settle for less.

Marriage matters.  It is bound up with God's plan for the world.  The self-giving generative love of husbands and wives shows the world that permanent, exclusive, faithful love is possible; and by God's permanent, exclusive, faithful love for us, we are saved.

If any of you are in a civil, non-Sacramental marriage, please give me a call, so we can work on rectifying the situation. Or if you and your spouse are having some marital problems and are looking for marriage help, I can share with you some resources that you will certainly find helpful if you give them a try. And if you are civilly divorced, please know that there continues to be a place for you in the Church, and I invite you to consider giving me a call to discern if it is appropriate to seek an annulment.

The Church needs strong, holy Catholic marriages and holy families—in which the Word of God is practiced and cherished. 

The month of October is traditionally devoted to the Holy Rosary. The Holy Father and the Bishops encourage us to pray the rosary daily during this month, and what better intention than to pray for marriages and families. Pray your rosary for those couples in irregular situations. Pray for spouses going through marital difficulties. Pray for the divorced, that they can know God’s healing and discern their role in the Church.

For each of us, celibate, married, or single, have a role in promoting happy, healthy, holy Christian marriage for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - Holy Works In His Name

Remember a few weeks ago in the Gospel when Peter attempts to correct Jesus on the road to Caesarea Philippi? Peter had rightly professed that Jesus is the Christ, but then Peter objects when the Lord explains that he must go to the cross to suffer and die? Peter didn’t get it, he didn't get the cross, so the Lord corrects him, and thereby gives a lesson to all of us. 

Today, we heard a similar dynamic play out between one of the apostles and our Lord. This time it’s the Apostle John who seems to be missing something. He begins to grumble and complain that someone outside of the band of apostles was casting out demons. “Teacher, we saw someone driving out demons in your name, and we tried to prevent him because he does not follow us.”

John’s protest echoes the objection of Joshua in our first reading, that Eldad and Medad were prophesying, although they had not been with the other seventy elders gathered by Moses. 

Moses replies much like the Lord,  manifesting the wish that everyone enjoy the gifts of the Spirit. 

Likewise, when the apostle John complains about this exorcist, casting out demons in Jesus’ name, the Lord corrects John, saying, don’t stop him. He’s doing good works in my name.  Not just apostles are called to do the work of Jesus, but all Christians.

The Lord goes on to explain that good deeds done in his name are holy, no mattering who does them. There is no holy work, including the giving of a glass of water, that passes unnoticed by God when done in generosity and without selfish calculation. Every act of forgiveness, every donation to a Christian cause, every penny put in the collection basket, every piece of clothing given to the poor, every kind letter or visit paid to someone who was sick, in prison, or alone, every prayer offered up for those in need, every word of comfort, instruction, and guidance, every single action that we perform in our Christian efforts to love God and neighbor is noticed, remembered, and delighted in by our Lord Jesus Christ.

The work of the Church isn’t exclusive to the work of the Apostles, the bishops. Every Christian is given a share in the mission, and is called to works of charity. Remember, we heard, last week, that those who claim to have faith, but do not perform works, their faith is dead. 

On Monday, the Church celebrates a saint who took this call to holy works very seriously, the great St. Vincent de Paul, who labored in the streets of Paris, ministering to the hungry and homeless, war refugees, the neglected elderly, and orphans. He saw there was a problem, and knew that he couldn’t wait for someone else to do the work.  So he established houses for the poor, crippled and sick, personally caring for the patients who had the most contagious diseases. He would dress their wounds and nurse them to health. And this dear holy priest has inspired generations of Catholics—clergy and laity alike, to labor for the poor.

After Communion today, a member of our parish chapter of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul will share a bit more about what they’ve been doing in the name of Christ in our parish and neighborhood.

After explaining how the mission of the Gospel is so much bigger than just the Twelve Apostles, the Lord gave one of us sternest, strongest condemnations in the entire New Testament. He talks about scandal. Those who cause little ones to sin, should have a millstone tied around their necks and thrown into the sea. It would be better to have your hand cut off, then experience the punishment of those who lead people, especially little ones, the impressionable, away from following Jesus Christ.

St. John was almost guilty of scandal. He was about to stop this devout exorcist from casting out demons because he wasn’t one of the Twelve. This is the definition of scandal, when someone in authority, like an apostle, a bishop, a priest, a parent, a catechist, or even just a fellow Christian hinders the holy works and inspirations of others.

Again, this is a lot like when the Lord called Peter Satan. When Peter said, you mustn’t allow yourself to suffer, it was akin to Satan opposing the holy will of God to save us from hell. And so the Lord rebukes Peter, he rebukes Satan for opposing the salvific plan of God.

So, too, here with St. John. When John wants to stop this exorcist from engaging in good, holy, work, inspired by Christ’s Gospel, he is setting himself at odds with God. Which is why the Lord explains that fiery Gehenna is reserved for those who oppose holy charity. 

I love the tension in this Gospel. On one hand, we need to be extremely generous and patient with fellow Christians, encouraging them in holy work, even when they might be a bit different from us. On the other hand, the individual Christian needs to go to extreme lengths to not cause scandal, to not lead others away from Christ by our own words and actions.

On one hand, be deeply, profoundly patient with others, and focus on the good that they are doing, on the other hand, be deeply, and profoundly vigilant about not scandalizing people by setting bad example or teaching error, especially to children. For we will be held accountable for this. 

And the best way to avoid scandal is to be diligent about the works of charity, just like St. Vincent de Paul, and so many holy saints, up and down the centuries. 

Like Peter, St. John finally got the lesson which had eluded him during the Lord’s earthly ministry. As an old man, you know, St. John had been exiled to the island of Patmos. And every Sunday, the Christians of patmos would go up the mountain, and carry old St. John to Church, where he would celebrate the Eucharist and preach to Christians there. And it is said that every Sunday, St. John would give them same homily, “my little children, God loves you, now love God and love one another.” Sunday after Sunday. When someone finally asked him, St. John, why do you give the same homily over and over, St. John replied, I repeat it over and over because the master repeated it over and over, god loves you, now love God and love one another, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - Take up your cross

 The author of today’s Gospel passage, St. Mark, was not a member of the Twelve Apostles. There’s a little dispute over when he encountered the Gospel One tradition states that he was among the 70 disciples sent out by Jesus during his Galilean ministry, another tradition, held by the third century church historian and bishop St. Eusebius, states the Mark became Christian through the post-resurrection preaching of St. Peter. Peter, after all called him “my son Mark” in his first epistle. So, likely, St. Mark got his information about Jesus from Peter; some ancient writers even called Mark’s Gospel “Peter’s Gospel” for that reason.  

So even if St. Mark was not an eye-witness to Jesus, his Gospel, which we’ll be reading through for the duration of the church year, is based on an eye-witness account, that of the prince of the apostles, St. Peter. 

Like St. Peter, St. Mark eventually traveled to Rome, and wrote his Gospel there around the year 60 A.D.  St. Mark’s Gospel is the shortest of the four Gospels: it is clear, precise, orderly, and direct—certainly pleasing to the Roman ear. 

The ancient Romans, to whom Mark wrote, were in many ways like modern Americans.  They were a practical, pragmatic people who emphasized deeds more than words, action more than theory.  The Romans got things done.  They conquered the known world.  And since his audience, the Romans, admired people who got things done, St. Mark emphasized these aspects of Jesus’s life. Throughout Mark’s Gospel, the Lord is confronting and expelling demons, curing contagious diseases, undergoing the terrible sufferings of his Passion, only to rise again victorious over sin and death. 

In the Gospel today, Jesus affirms, explicitly and uncompromisingly—very clearly, so even Romans could understand—that he and all of his followers must "take up the cross"—talk about action. For following Jesus is about more than calling oneself a Christian, to quote same James, “faith without works is dead.” And, the Lord goes so far to say that those who refuse to take up the cross “will lose their lives”—they will lose the promise of eternal life in heaven. Again, you can’t call yourself a Christian without the works that back-up that claim. 

The Lord gives this stark teaching in response to Peter really sticking his foot in his mouth. The Passage begins with Peter seemingly understanding that Jesus is the Messiah—the promised one—the one anointed by God to save us from our sins and restore unity to the fallen human race and restore humanity to right relationship with God. 

But then the conversation takes a turn: when Jesus tells the group that the Christ must suffer greatly, be mocked, and killed, Peter, the disciple, attempts to correct Jesus, the teacher. Big mistake. But who could blame him. Peter doesn’t want Jesus to go to the cross, because Peter doesn’t want to go to the cross. In fact, throughout the Gospel, Peter is often running away from the cross. In the Passion story, Peter denied Jesus three times, so he wouldn’t be arrested and crucified with the Lord.  On the Mount of Transfiguration, when Jesus is talking to Moses and Elijah about going to Jerusalem where he would suffer and die like the prophets before Him, Peter says, no, Lord, let’s just stay here. Peter doesn’t want the Lord to be subject to suffering, because Peter doesn’t want to have to suffer. And again,…who can blame him. Most of us spend a lot of time and energy avoiding or at least minimizing suffering.

“Get behind me Satan”, the Lord says to Peter. You can imagine Mark’s surprise when Peter recalled the events in today’s Gospel: “He called you what?” Why does the Lord offer this sharpest of rebuke? This passage gets to the heart of who Jesus is and what he’s all about. The Lord Jesus wasn’t just a teacher, he wasn’t a community organizer, he wasn’t political leader, he didn’t come to simply encourage humanity to work for social justice. Of course, it’s good to feed the hungry, it’s good to stand up for someone being bullied, it’s good to speak up for the vulnerable. But the Son of God took flesh in order to accomplish something we couldn’t do on our own, the greatest good imaginable: he embraced unimaginable suffering, the greatest suffering, to obtain, to purchase our salvation. 

So when Peter said, you mustn’t allow yourself to suffer, it was akin to Satan opposing the holy will of God to save us from hell. Of course Satan doesn’t want Jesus to suffer and die. The Lord’s Passion freed us from hell’s grasp. And so the Lord rebukes Peter, he rebukes Satan for opposing the salvific plan of God. 

And then the Lord teaches his disciples, that we must, like him, bear our crosses. Fulfilling the will of God is not easy. There is a weight to it, a cost to it. And we know this: it’s good to feed the hungry and clothe the naked. But, we often draw a line, don’t we? We willingly engage in these good works…to a point: and that point usually is, when it costs me something, when I will have to sacrifice something I enjoy or can utilize—cash, leisure time, my favorite television show, my reputation among less religiously fervent peers or family members. When I have to sacrifice these things to build up the Church and to do good works, well, most of us like to leave the hard work to someone else. 

This is a difficult Gospel. Perhaps the most difficult. It was certainly difficult for Peter, so we are, at least, in good company. Peter continues to run away from suffering throughout the Gospel—we run away often. We allow Satan to whisper in our ears, “the cross is too heavy, leave it to someone else, God can’t possibly be asking you to carry this cross, you can carry the next one”. 

But, the Christian life is about learning to carry crosses for the sake of the Kingdom. And just as our Lord brought ineffable goodness from his cross, so to with us. Lives our touched, souls are saved, miracles are wrought, saints are made through the cross. 

There’s the story, which you have likely heard, when Peter finally gets it. After the Lord’s Ascension, of course, Peter labors with the rest of the Apostles to spread the Gospel, in Jerusalem, then to Judea, then throughout the empire. And around the year 64, Peter having been bishop in Antioch for some time, comes to preach and minister to the Christians in the Imperial City of Rome. And for a while Peter knowing that he was likely to be arrested and killed for his ministry, showed great courage preaching the Gospel and ministering to the small community of Christians there. 

When he began to agitate the local Roman authorities, the threat of the cross again loomed too close for comfort. So Peter began to flee Rome. But as he began to flee through the city gate, something happened. He had a vision. Before him he saw the Lord Jesus walking through the gate, into Rome carrying the cross.  Peter, falling to his knees asked him, “Domine, quo vadis?  Lord, where are you going?”  And the Lord replied, “I have come to Rome to be crucified, since you will not.”  Peter recognized that he had been fleeing the cross, yet again., and the Lord’s words struck Peter and gave him the resolve to do what he must do. 

Peter returned to his ministry, preaching the Truth of the Gospel, and for this he was arrested, and like our Lord, Peter was crucified; only he asked that he be crucified upside-down because he felt he was unworthy to die in the same way as his Lord. His sacrifice no doubt bolstered the faith of the Roman Christians who would undergo terrible persecution, and has bolstered the faith of the Church for 2000 years because he finally took up his cross.

What will it mean to take up your cross this week? To pray, to fast, to visit the lonely widow next door? Will it be to bear wrongs patiently, without complaint, without seeking to get the last word in when arguing with a spouse, or refrain from talking back to your parents? Will it mean finally forgiving someone who hurt you, or going out of your way to find a intentional act of charity each day, to invite a coworker to pray? Daily upon waking, ask God for the strength and courage to carry that cross, the willingness to pay what is costly for the spread of the kingdom for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - Alone and the Interior Life

 

Thanks for everyone’s prayers these last two weeks. I had a very restful time away. A few priest friends of mine and I rented a little house down in southern Kentucky. The main purpose of trip was to get refreshed for the upcoming months of ministry, and so every day we celebrated mass, offered the liturgy of the hours for our parishes. We also tried to have some sort of adventure each day, so we went hiking most days through various Appalachian trails, we went kayaking one day. After the day’s adventure, we’d return home for dinner and watch one of our favorite shows these past few years, a show on the history channel that’s been running for about 8 seasons, a show called “Alone”.

10 contestants have the opportunity to win half a million dollars by trying to survive out in the wilderness for as long as they can.  They have to forage and hunt for food, build shelters, fend off bears and wild cats, with very few supplies.  They have no communication with the outside world except for periodic medical checks and to radio in the call when they are ready to give up. 

Each season, there are typically a few contestants that don’t last a week, unable to overcome the physical obstacles, the weather, and finding food. Those lasting past that initial hurdle have to deal with quite another difficulty: themselves, their own hearts and the psychological strain of loneliness. Many contestants describe how memories and mistakes from the past bubble up out of their unconsconcious; their regrets, their woundedness, painful memories from childhood.  Many of the contestants tap out because they simply cannot not handle being Alone with themselves when they don’t have Netflix and iphones to distract them from their inner struggles.

In the Church’s history, there have been men and women who have intentionally gone out into the wilderness, out into the desert in order to be alone with God.  We call them the Desert Fathers and Mothers: like St. Anthony of the Desert.  Modern day Hermits like Thomas Merton follow in that tradition.  Many times throughout the Gospels, the Lord Jesus goes out into the wilderness. Immediately, after his baptism, what does he do? He goes out into the desert--the place of Trial, the place of Temptation, where he comes face to face with his own temptations. 

So too the Desert Fathers and Mothers, go into the desert for Spiritual Combat, in order to confront their inner demons, to seek detachment from earthly things and purification from their vices, to learn how to rely on the will of providence of the Father, and to allow the Word of God to truly take root in them.

In the Gospel this weekend, the Lord seeks to teach his disciples a lesson, one of the most important lessons of the Christian life, that Christianity isn’t simply about appearances, but interior conversion.

The Pharisees were obsessed with cleanliness and appearances. Cleanliness is next to Godliness sure, but it’s not the same. Christians aren’t simply to be physically clean, but interiorly clean, clean in mind, clean of heart. Blessed are the clean of heart, the pure of heart, he says, in the beatitudes, for they shall see God. 

Of course, Christians will have to suffer through a lot of things beyond our control. Earthquakes, floods, disease, pandemics, persecutions, inept and corrupt governments. But those things, ultimately cannot keep us from seeing God. “From within people, from their hearts, come evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, licentiousness, envy, blasphemy, arrogance, folly. All these evils come from within and they defile.”

One of the reasons I love watching that show Alone is that it’s a reminder, strip away everything from modern life, all the distractions, and I still have to deal with what’s in here. And not all of it is good. We take our selfishness and lust and fear with us, wherever we go—whether it’s the wilderness or the supermarket. And Christianity is wonderfully honest about that. Because when we humbly acknowledge our sins and our woundedness, these things can be healed. When we expose the darkness in our hearts to the light of Christ, and allow the Lord to forgive us and heal us, we become the people God made us to be, we see God working in our life, leading us to eternal life.

This week we celebrated the feast of the great Bishop, St. Augustine.  St. Augustine is known for writing what is basically the first autobiography in Western Civilization, called the Confessions.  St. Augustine, a Bishop in his 60s, writes this autobiography reflecting on his journey toward Christ, he wasn’t always a Catholic. In this writings he confesses an adolescence misspent in serious sin, the works of the flesh: lust, promiscuity, pride, theft. He confesses an early adulthood flirting with heresy and erroneous philosophies. But then he confesses the wonderful account of grace, hearing the preaching of St. Ambrose, he confesses the great healing of his soul when he allowed his pride and error and hardness of heart to be converted into belief in Christ—when he made the choice, to serve the Master.

St. Augustine is often artistically depicted holding a flaming human heart, a heart, set on fire with the love of God, because he allowed the Gospel call to conversion to penetrate his inmost being, to allow the word of God, the power of God, the light of God to ignite his heart with love and truth.

To heed the Gospel call, to cooperate with Grace, we do well to make a daily confession in a sense, a daily examination of our conscience.  What evil in my heart did I fail to bring to God today, what selfishness did I indulge, what uncleanness did I fail to bring to God to be washed of. 

If we’ve committed a serious evil, of course, we need to bring that to the Sacrament of Confession, as soon as possible. For venial sin, we repent of it on the spot, ask the Lord’s mercy and healing, with the intention of amending our life, of doing better tomorrow.

Now, of course, if we’re just passing out in front of the television or iphone, it’s difficult to make quiet time for the daily examination. So we need to make that effort, At the end of the day before sleep, to ask yourself and ask God: how did I treat people today? How did I treat my spouse, my children, my coworker.  Why was I so harsh to that waitress, that cashier? Why was I in such a hurry or inconsiderate in traffic? Why was I so consumed by that immodest image or fantasy? Was I grateful today? Did I go out of my way to help anyone today or did I demand that everyone bow down to my way?  Did I take the time to encourage the doubtful, to visit the lonely? What were my sins today? What were my virtues?

St. Augustine writes, “Urged to reflect upon myself, I entered under your guidance into the inmost depth of my soul,” Every day, have the courage to allow God to lead you into the depths of your soul to be alone with God and allow him to help you look within at your heart, at your choices, your vices, your wounds, your unused gifts and talents. “Entering into myself I saw…your immutable light” says Augustine. Having the courage to be alone with God, you will find, God waiting for you there, even in our woundnedness, with his healing light. For the glory of God and salvation of souls.

15th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - God has chosen me

 I always feel bad for our lectors when they have to proclaim this weekend’s second reading. In the Greek, those 12 long, complicated, overflowing, and theologically dense verses from the introductory chapter of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians form one, single, sentence. And even with the periods and breaks in our English translation, his thought is still somewhat difficult to follow. 

Did he want to confuse the Ephesians? You can imagine the first recipient of the letter maybe rubbing his temples, certainly reading over those verses more than a time or two.

But what was Paul thinking? What’s he doing here? It appears his purpose for this dense chunk of text, wasn’t to provide a systematic explanation of Christian doctrine like he does later in his letter. Rather, these 12 verses appear more to be a profound expression of Paul’s wonder and awe. He’s trying to put into words, something ineffable, something beyond words.

The medium, in a sense, is the message. He’s writing his heart out. He’s composing a hymn of praise to the God of the universe who he’s come to realize has done something, Paul could not fathom prior to his conversion to Christ. The Father of Jesus has chosen Him, personally, and has chosen each member of the Church for a wonderous vocation—to the life of holiness and grace.  

“God has chosen me. God has chosen me” the little ones sing in their religion classes. And they do so with smiles on their faces. I’ve seen them. Now, Paul wrote these words from prison. And yet, this knowledge, of being chosen by God brought him a light and joy that prison could not contain. He’s compelled to compose these words to the Church, that we might share his joy. 

Here Paul gives us an insight into what it means to be a Christian. It’s to recognize this calling, our election to be holy, and to allow the knowledge of being chosen by God to reach all the way down to the depths of our being, so that not even prison could cause us to lose our faith. 

This experience of being chosen by God fueled Paul’s missionary work. It impelled him to carry the Gospel through rapid rivers, steep mountains, malaria-plagued lowlands, and bandit-ridden passages, enabled him to endure robbers, attempted assassinations, imprisonment, torture, and martyrdom all for the sake of the Gospel, all out of love for Jesus Christ. He risked his life to share the Gospel, trusting that this is the most important message ever. We’re chosen by God to be holy. 

“He chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him.”

To be holy…if you are sitting in this church and listening to these words, you have been chosen by God for this—to grow in virtue, to restrain vice, to practice deep, soul-stiring prayer, to share the Gospel, to attend to the needy. You aren’t here by accident. You are part of God’s plan. Your sanctification is part of God’s plan. Paul wants Christians to know this because God wants Christians to know this. 

The pursuit of holiness is to animate our lives not just for an hour a week, but always. Don’t run away from your election. 

Paul later writes, everything is rubbish, compared to being taken possession of by Christ Jesus. Everything is loss, that keeps me from the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus. So, if holiness isn’t your greatest pursuit. Start Now. If you aren’t examining your life daily, and working on moderating, and getting rid of anything that keeps you from living this vocation to your fullest potential. Start Now.

Last night, in our second Friday of the month faith formation, we studied the life of St. Ignatius of Loyola…the other Ignatius, the founder of the Jesuits. In his youth, he thought the most important thing in life was seeking after earthly fortune and glory, so he entered military service in the hopes of becoming this soldier of great renown. But a cannonball to the leg, changed his life. Talk about a wake up call from God. God wants us to know we are chosen, sometimes he needs to use a cannonball to the leg to help us figure that out.

Anyways, while convalescing, Ignatius had nothing to do but consider his life and read. And there was only one book he had access to, a book on the lives of the saints. And he began to read, not of glorious knights in shining armor, but of saints clothed in holiness. He read of Dominic solid in his faith preaching to and converting the Albigensian heretics. He read of Francis practicing Christ-like poverty, so closely united to Christ he bored the holy stigmata. He read of Benedict pursuing radical holiness in monastic simplicity, in simple work and prayer. In his solitude, in his reflection on the saints, Ignatius came to recognize that he too was chosen, not just to be another Francis, another Benedict, another Dominic, but called to be himself totally conformed to Christ. He had been chosen, and he changed the world forever. And we too have been chosen. 

If you are having difficulty believing this or recognizing this, ask for help today to recognize your calling. Holy Communion, especially, is an opportunity to express our great gratitude for the blessings of the Lord, but also to hear the Lord calling us by name, pouring his royal treasure of grace into our hearts, and giving us the strength we need to become saints, to be his faithful followers and instruments in the world in the coming week.

Let holy Mass be a new beginning today, of living ever more faithfully and God’s chosen sons and daughters, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - For Freedom's Sake

 

On July 4, 1776, 245 years ago, this weekend, the Second Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence to declare to the world that the thirteen American colonies regarded themselves as sovereign states independent from the rule of the British Empire.

In response to this historic event, John Adams, one of only two of the Founding Fathers to go on to become president, wrote to his wife Abigail:

“…This day ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God almighty.  It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.”

It is called Independence day because we celebrate our independence from tyrannical rule. It was the contention of our Founding Fathers that the British Rule of the American Colonies was tyrannical and unjust, and so we declared our independence from that tyranny in order to govern ourselves justly, that we may freely exercise and pursue our God given rights.

Freedom. It’s not just a civic or philosophical ideal, but a biblical one. St. Paul wrote to the Galatians “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.” But, what does Paul mean by that word, Freedom? Paul was certainly echoing our Lord, who said in John chapter 8, “If the Son of God sets you free, you will be free indeed.”

Through Jesus we are now free to pursue our highest good, eternal life with God in heaven. We are able to exercise our free will aided by grace to pursue truth and goodness for ourselves and our fellow man.

Back in 2009, I was able to travel to Washington D.C. when Pope Benedict visited our nation’s capital. When he came to D.C., Pope Benedict’s first stop was the White House to meet with the President.  And President Bush did something quite noble: he asked the Holy Father to offer a teaching on the Christian meaning of Freedom.  “In a world where some see freedom as simply the right to do as they wish, we need your message,” President Bush said to the Pope, “that true liberty requires us to live our freedom not just for ourselves, but in a spirit of mutual support.”

Over the course of his several day visit the Pope made Freedom one of the central themes of all of his talks, while also calling out all of those counterfeit versions of freedom that are undermining the real thing.  For true liberty gives our country life, abuse of freedom threatens our country’s future.  

This weekend as we give thanks to God for our gift of freedom, I’d like to reflect a bit on Pope Benedict’s message.

Pope Benedict began his catechesis with the founding fathers, who risked their lives to sign the declaration of independence. These men were of great intellectual, philosophical, and theological integrity.  Holy Father stated, “From the dawn of the Republic America's quest for freedom has been guided by the conviction that the principles governing political and social life are intimately linked to a moral order based on the dominion of God the Creator. 

The media often portrays many of our founding fathers as secular humanists who wanted nothing to do with religion.  However, 26 of the 58 signers of the declaration of independence had degrees in theology.  John Adams spoke for many of the signers of the declaration when he said that, “it is religion and morality alone which can establish the principles upon which freedom can securely stand.”

Freedom, therefore, is inextricably linked to the moral order, to God’s moral law. Without right religion, right morality, freedom is threatened. This is why we need our populace and politicians, police and judges, to be moral, religious people.

In the first reading from the prophet Ezekiel, the Lord laments how Israel had hardened its heart toward the commandments of God—Israel had become a rebellious house. And so God sent Ezekiel to help Israel wake up and repent and return to the way of life that would bring them freedom from sin. 

When you and I were baptized, the priest or deacon put oil on our heads and said, I anoint you priest, prophet, and king. So, like Ezekiel those thousands of years ago, you and I, in this age of the church, have a prophetic role to this nation. We are tasked by God to prophetically preach the word of freedom to the captives. To call our fellow citizens, our politicians, to uphold the tenets of right morality, for freedom’s sake, for their souls’ sake. 

Now you might say, that it’s improper to force our religious beliefs on anyone, and you’re right. We aren’t to force anybody, but we have to make the invitation. It’s our duty, it’s our identity—to be prophets. In the words of Ezekiel, “whether they heed or resist—they shall know that a prophet has been among them.” Whether the world listens or not, we have a prophetic duty to teach the truth.

But of course, actions speak louder than words. So, more important than engaging in political debate is the need to embody that freedom in our lives. 

“Freedom is not only a gift,” Pope Benedict said but “a summons to personal responsibility…The preservation of freedom calls for the cultivation of virtue, self-discipline, sacrifice for the common good, and a sense of responsibility towards the less fortunate. It also demands the courage to engage in civic life and to bring one's deepest beliefs and values to reasoned public debate. In a word, freedom is ever new. It is a challenge held out to each generation, and it must constantly be won over for the cause of good”

That our public schools and universities are becoming devoid of a proper understanding of civic responsibility, and inundated with perverse philosophies should be deeply concerning to us, for these things do undermine and threaten liberty. But what Pope Benedict here is rightly teaching is freedom begins at home, moreso, with the personal responsibility of cultivating virtue in our own life. 

Our greatest duty in the ongoing campaign to reclaim and preserve authentic freedom, as always, as Christians, is to become a Saint.  Become as Holy as we can through the grace of God and the practice of our faith is of the greatest prophetic value. True independence is found by recognizing and living out of our total dependence on God.

Dependence on God for our daily bread. Dependence on God to order our life, to guard us from temptation, to forgive our sins through Christ his Son. Dependence on God to convert the hardened of heart, to bring unity to a divided nation, to sanctify us and enable us to live in the true freedom of the children of God.

So we pray for our nation this Independence day, that we and our fellow citizens will be committed to pursuing and protecting authentic freedom. We pray in gratitude for those who shed their blood for the freedom we enjoy today. And we pray that we, as Christians, will prophetically witness to the world that freedom, in its ultimate sense, can only be found through Jesus Christ and His Gospel for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

12th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - Stormy Seas and Fathers

 In Scripture, the roaring untamed sea is often a symbol of the destructive, chaotic powers of nature beyond the control of man. 

The very first page of the Bible speaks of “Tohu wa bohu” in the Hebrew, the primal chaotic waters. Yet, those untamed waters are quickly brought under the control of the Most High God and Lord of Creation who brings light and life out of the darkness as he breaths forth his Spirit and calls creation into being.

The book of Exodus contains another frightening body of water. As Pharoah’s chariots and charioteers close in on the Israelites, God’s people are trapped by the uncrossable Red Sea. It is not until God intervenes, demonstrating again that He is the Lord and Master of Creation, that the Israelites are able to cross the untamable sea, on their road toward freedom.

In today’s Gospel, the apostles become trapped and tossed about on a stormy sea. Again, the stormy waters stand for the chaos of life beyond our control—all those difficulties both interior and exterior, physical and psychological that beset us—the dark depths always threatening to swallow us up. 

Throughout the centuries Church fathers have explained that the boat traversing through the stormy sea in the Gospel today stands for the Church through the ages—the Barque of Peter making her way through the centuries amidst persecution and warring nations, the violent winds of worldly error.  The waves crashing against the boat, the winds whipping around them are symbolic of everything that besets the Church, and besets the individual Christian. 

In the course of the Christian life, the disciples of Jesus have to face chaos, anxiety, darkness, and bafflement .

The storm in the Gospel today must have been of unique severity, after all the apostles were experienced fisherman, experienced sailors on the Sea of Galilee. It was their home turf—well, their home “surf”—so to speak. They knew these waters well, they’d fished there before, with their fathers and their fathers before them.  They knew its changes and dangers. And for these experienced boatmen to have been so terrified speaks to how terrible this storm must have been. For in the midst of their terror they cry out “Lord, save us.” 

Those were the right words. Scripture is filled with such cries the Psalms especially:  Out of the depths I call to you, LORD; Lord, hear my cry! Says Psalm 130.  Scripture even instructs us to call out to God in times of trouble: Psalm 50, says, “Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I shall rescue you.”

When we find ourselves lost and in the shadow of death—when we are facing the great struggles and storms of life—the Scriptures teach us to call out to God. When in our desperation we feel utterly incapable of helping or saving ourselves, we are meant to turn to Almighty God, and cry, “Lord, save us”  

This Gospel especially teaches us that the Lord hears our cries. The Lord of all creation is in the boat with us. We are never alone. Just as the Spirit of God brought order out of chaotic waters in the book of Genesis, Jesus, the Incarnate Power of God, can bring order, and peace, and calm, and new life—new creation, out of the stormy darkness of our life. I don’t know about you, but that gives me comfort.

This reading always reminds me of a story. When I was younger, my father and uncles together purchased a boat. A beautiful 55 foot antique wooden Chris-Craft that they had docked in Fairport Harbor, about 15 miles west of my hometown of Madison. And, when I was about 8 years old, one summer day, my father announced that he and I would be paddling our rubber raft from the shore just north of our house, and my uncle would be picking us up on the boat. It was a grey day, windy and drizzling when we set off from shore, and not 10 minutes into this little trek, huge dark clouds came out of nowhere. The rain intensified, the waves whipped up. 

But my dad was there. And I felt safe. Come to found out, you’re really not supposed to do that, paddle into an oncoming thunderstorm on lake erie, but, I felt safe. Dad was there, just like Jesus in the boat today.

On this Father’s Day, we reflect on the role that Fathers have in the life of the church, in the lives of our families. No one can replace them. A man in the life of a child cannot be replaced. Our culture might say different, but our culture is of course confused about a great many things.

During this Year of St. Joseph we consider a particular man, chosen by God to have a role in the life of Jesus. A man who was guardian, protector, provider, and leader in the practice of the Faith for his Family.

St. Joseph took great efforts that Jesus lacked nothing he needed for healthy development. Faithfully guarding the Christ-Child’s life when the family was forced to live as refugees in Egypt. Instructing Jesus in his work as a carpenter.

In an age that needs strong, virtuous, faith-filled fathers, we do well to turn to Joseph, Ite ad Ioseph, go to Joseph, as a role model and a heavenly intercessor—that Catholic men may become fathers like the Father of Jesus—strong pillars of faith for their family. 

Many forces in our culture today contribute to the breakdown of the family, minimizing the role that fathers are meant to play in the lives of their children. As the family has broken down, so has the culture. So, our culture, our parish, and our church need men to step up and be active guardians, workers, strong models of virtue and faith. Not as the culture teaches, but as our Faith teaches and St. Joseph models.

Fathers filled with strong-faith are meant to be Jesus in the boat for us who bring calm to the storms of our lives.

Grateful for our fathers, grateful for the many ways that God has comforted us in the midst of the storms of our lives, the many ways that Jesus has quieted the storms and chaos surrounding us and within us, may we continue this eucharistic celebration with all thanksgiving and confidence in God’s saving help. And may the Lord transform us, that we may bring his peace and life-giving word into the lives and storms of others for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

11th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - Parables, Choices, Mustard Seeds

 
One of the hallmarks of the Lord’s preaching and teaching is his use of parables. Through parables, the Lord drew upon images, ideas, and customs from the everyday life of 1st century Israel—like farming and seeds. Utilizing parables allowed the Lord to connect with his listeners, to challenge their preconceptions, and lead them to truth. The Lord’s parables are simple enough for children to understand them, yet profound enough to challenge the greatest of saints up and down the centuries.

And I say the parables are challenging because they demand, in a sense, some personal engagement, a decision, usually to change our thoughts or behaviors. 

In the parable of the good Samaritan, for example, the listener has a choice. Who do I want to be in this story? Who does God want me to be? The self-occupied Levitical priest who passes by on the other side of the road when he glimpses a man in need? Or the good Samaritan who comes to the aid of the stranger? Hearing this parable, you have a choice.

In the parable where Jesus likens the kingdom of God to the pearl of great price, the listener, again has a choice. Will I pursue the kingdom of God, the values of God as the most important thing in my life, or not? Will I allow God to order my priorities, or not?

In one of my favorite parables where Jesus talks about the different types of soil, where the seed of the Gospel is spread over those different types of soil, right?, the listener has a choice. Will I make my mind and heart receptive to the truth of God or not? Will I clear away the thorns of my earthly attractions and distractions or not?

The Catechism of the Catholic Church says the “parables are like mirrors for man: will he be hard soil or good earth for the word [of God]? What use has he made of the talents he has received?” 

The parables cause us to look at our life, and to make some decisions, some commitments. Will I allow Jesus’ teaching to change me, or not?

If this is the purpose of the parables, what are the decisions and commitments and personal engagement demanded by the parables in the Gospel passage for this 11th Sunday of Ordinary Time

First, we hear that the kingdom of God is like a seed that seems to grow on its own, the farmer doesn’t know how it grows. And that’s true about the grace of God in our souls. God’s life in our souls, in a sense, isn’t a human achievement, but a divine work. God brings about our growth in holiness, which at times is imperceptible, like a seed growing in the depths of the earth.

On the other hand, the farmer can’t very well neglect the seed, he has to do his part. He has to water it and fertilize it. So, too, we must cooperate with that grace, by doing our part: avoiding sin, engaging in daily prayer, reception of the sacraments, engagement in good works. The first choice demanded by the parables is this: will I do the things that cause the seed to grow, or not?

And yet that part of the parable, where the seed grows on its own, myseriously, must not be discounted as well. The second choice: will we allow God to be God. Will we trust God, when we don’t really see the growth we’re expecting. Will we be patient with God?

In a sense, this parable serves as encouragement for those who think their efforts for the kingdom are fruitless. When we are tempted to think that our prayers aren’t doing any good, we need to trust, that prayer is Good. Your prayers may have helped saved the lives or saved the souls of people you’ll never meet. Don’t worry. Prayer is good. Don’t give up. 

Again the challenge, will I trust God our not. Will I persevere in prayer, and good works, and avoiding sin? Will I trust that All those rosaries. All that time spent on your knees in front of the Blessed Sacrament. All those Masses. All that effort trying to set good example for young people. Will I trust that God is bringing about growth in his kingdom. The simple challenge is: will you give up, or will you trust God?

The second parable in today’s passage is connected to this idea of trust. The kingdom of God is like this mustard seed. The seed begins the smallest of seeds, but once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants. Will I trust that in God’s hands, my small meager effort, can have a real impact in the world.

A mustard seed. This is exactly how the Church started out. A small group of uneducated Galilean fishermen. A traveling group of missionaries like Paul and Timothy. But this is how the Church has grown over the centuries. She started off small, even imperceptible in many places. Now, she has grown and reached nearly every corner of the globe.  

Pope Benedict warned Catholics to resist what he calls “the temptation of impatience”, that is the temptation to insist on “immediately finding great success” in “large numbers”.  “For the Kingdom of God and for evangelization,” he said, “the parable of the grain of mustard seed is always valid.”  This new modern phase of the Church’s evangelization mission to the secular world will not be “immediately attracting the large masses that have distanced themselves from the Church”. The right pastor, the right music ministry, the right marketing campaign, isn’t going to fill these pews.

It’s going to start small before it blossoms again. Small things with great love. Folks, to be honest, that’s why I’m open to trying new things here, like the latin mass. Because more is accomplished with a little risk and trusting in God’s grace, than doing nothing at all.

That’s why it’s so good to see parish groups like Legion of Mary, St. Vincent de Paul, the Garden Club, the Bible Study, doing something. As you might know our Legion of Mary has begun an apostolate of going out to the cemeteries to pray with people who have lost someone. It’s something. This week the Legion is also going to start setting up a table on the sidewalk on Thursday afternoons to pass out Catholic literature and rosaries and just talk with people who may have questions about the Catholic faith. Again, it’s something. It’s a mustard seed. 

So, too with our St. Vincent de Paul. They go out two by two to meet those who are asking our parish for help. Wonderful. 

“Dare, once again” says Pope Benedict, “with the humility of the mustard seed, to leave up to God the when and how it will grow.”

Folks, I am with you, I  want nothing more than to see this parish flourish. And now that COVID is lifting and we are more confident in being out in the world again, we need we need some mustard seeds. We have work to do in planting mustard seeds for the Lord. As pastor, please, if you have a mustard seed idea for the good of our parish and mission, come to me. Let's plant it. 

For in the end, a parish isn't some pious social club. It’s a farm. And farms require hard work and blisters and trust that the rains will fall and the seeds will grow…for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Trinity Sunday 2021 - Mysterious Love

 

We have come again to the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity.  I don’t know who dreads this Sunday more, the priests who have to attempt to explain this most mysterious of all Catholic Dogmas in a short homily, or the people, who have to listen to it.  

I think many priests on Trinity Sunday, like Saint Patrick depicted in our stained glass window with the three-leaf clover, try to explain the nature of the Trinity with some analogy: the trinity is like three burning candles twisted together to have one flame, or like a three-stranded piece of rope.  Or the Trinity is like an egg, and the three persons are like the egg shell, an egg white and an egg yolk.  Some have said the Trinity is like Water which can come in three modes: ice, liquid, or steam, or a tree that has branches, leaves, and roots.

The problem with each of these analogies is that they are ultimately wrong, yes, even Saint Patrick’s use of the three-leaf clover.  To say that the Trinity is like some created thing will never fully explain the Trinity.  The three divine persons of the One Supreme Godhead –Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, are not three modes of God, three parts, three divisions, or three different masks that God wears. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are not three separate entities, like three separate Gods. In a sense, it’s easier to say what the Trinity is not, than what the Trinity is.

In the end, all analogies fail. God is greater than our human comprehension. And I think that’s one of the reasons we celebrate Trinity Sunday: to acknowledge that God is greater than my human comprehension, and I’m okay with it. 

Saint Augustine, who is one of the most profound reflectors on the Trinity said, “Si comprehendis, non est Deus” which means, “If you understand, it’s not God.”  The minute you say, yes, I got it now: that’s not God, says Augustine.  The Trinity is greater than human understanding. 

And that’s a wonderful thing. God is bigger than us. He’s greater than us. He resists being limited by our human categories and prejudices. 

We all know the famous story of the Israelites, after crossing the red sea, they come to mt. sinai. And they fashion for themselves an idol to worship. A hunk of metal. Though their action was way off the mark, and yet, it’s somewhat relatable. It’s a perennial temptation to fashion for ourselves gods which are less mysterious, less demanding, gods that we can see and touch and obtain. Why do people worship money and the accumulation of material things? Because they are right there! Why do people make idols out of athletes and politicians? Because they are right there. Listen to them talk—they’re so charming; they tell me what I want to hear. Watch them play—they’re so talented! It makes me happy.

But we are made for so much more than the happiness offered by the false idols of our own making. We're made for the eternal blessedness of communion with the One True God.

So on one hand, God is mysterious—beyond the comprehension of any created intellect. On the other hand, we were created in order to love God.  And an old proverb says, "You cannot love what you do not know."  God’s nature might be ultimately unknowable, but God has revealed something about Himself--He loves us. 

Catholics don’t believe in some generic faceless nameless divinity like the unitarians because God is not generic—He is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Catholic don’t worship some uncaring divine force—but a communion of love whose goodness overflows for us. The Father has a plan for his creation, His Son is sent to enact that plan: to suffer and die for it, the Holy Spirit enflames our hearts and incorporates us into that plan.

While mysterious, the Holy Trinity desires that we seek to know Him, love Him, and serve Him in this life, that we may be happy with Him in the next. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind, and all your strength, the Lord tells us. Okay. How?

Just as you get to know someone by spending time with them and doing work with them, so too, we come to know Father, Son, and Holy Spirit spending time with them in prayer, by reading what the Scriptures reveal about Them, what the great Church Fathers have written about them, and by spending time in their service.

Why do a growing number of people in this country claim to have no relationship with God? Because they do none of these things. Instead of prayer, they seek the superficial status of social media. Instead of reading the Scriptures, they turn their minds to the perverse entertainments of our day. Instead of engaging in the holy works of mercy, they seek to build up for themselves treasures on earth.

Many people today blame God for their troubles, instead of recognizing God’s desires to help them in their troubles. They say, there is evil in the world, there is evil in my life, therefore God does not exist. In this case, they’ve fashioned such a small, impotent God. Rather, Catholics know, that God is doing something about the evil in the world, he has done something about the evil in the world. The Father has sent the Son to conquer evil and sin and death. And he is victorious. And we can share in that victory by belief in Him, by handing our lives over to Him, by bearing our crosses in union with Him, with the sure and certain Hope, that discipleship leads to resurrection and eternal life.

The Holy Trinity is mysterious, but as we encounter Him in our liturgical worship in our daily prayer, and in our charitable service, we begin to know with our minds and fix in our hearts that the Lord is God. 

In the celebration of Mass, particularly, the Holy Trinity is acting now in history: Father, Son, and Spirit, breathing new life into the Church, nourishing us with the Eucharist, enkindling our hearts for the work of the Gospel. As we continue this sacred celebration and as you go forth from here into the world, let us open our minds, hearts, and souls to the goodness and providence of the Trinity. Let us trust Him, and seek to know Him ever more intimately, and serve Him always and everywhere for the Glory of God and salvation of souls.