Homily: Monday of the 3rd Week of Lent 2016 - God's Ordinary Activity

Jesus Rejected at Nazareth by Jeff Watkins

Naaman, the Syrian army commander afflicted with leprosy, was appalled at the suggestion that to cure his leprosy all he had to do was to bathe in the Jordan River.  That river?  It’s so ordinary!

Jesus, after forty days in the desert, comes back to his home town and is rejected by its citizens.  They knew him as a young boy.  Perhaps they had heard some story about him being lost in Jerusalem for three days while Mary and Joseph looked for him.  They saw him working with Joseph in his carpenter’s shop, how could He be a prophet, how could God be at work in Him!  God couldn’t possibly be that close!

Naaman wanted healing on his terms.  The people of Jesus’ home town wanted God on their terms.

One of the great difficulties that the very earliest Christians had was convincing their neighbors, accustomed to great religious spectacles, that baptism—just being washed with water—really did bring with it the promise of living forever.  “Washing in water?  Just ordinary water?” 

Look at our sacraments: water, bread, wine, oil, confessing past faults, a man and a woman making promises to each other—ordinary things.  For, the power of the sacraments comes not from the water or the oil, but from God.  God is so powerful he can work with ordinary things.

Sometimes our faith seems so ordinary.  I’ve talked to self-proclaimed atheists who claimed that they’d believe in God if He appeared to them in some great supernatural vision.  But when I tell them, God has appeared in ordinary flesh and begun His Church, they laugh.

Many fallen away Catholics claim they don’t go to Mass because it’s boring and ordinary.  They don’t read the bible because, well, that’s so ordinary.  I’ve also talked to Catholics whose family members have fallen away from the Church and have fallen into to some pretty deadly sins.  They looked at me with surprise and doubt when I suggested they pray a rosary for their children.  A rosary, how ordinary! 

So they don’t do anything, they don’t change anything about themselves because they want some magic formula.

Come to Mass, receive the Eucharist, go to confession, read the bible, pray the rosary, spend time in adoration before the blessed sacrament, learn the faith so you can talk about it coherently with non-believers.  It sounds so ordinary, but God works most often in the ordinary.

At this point in Lent you may be starting to be disillusioned with your Lenten penances, they might seem so ordinary now.  But I urge you to persevere, God is working through those Lenten practices.  He will bring about great conversion including your own, if you let him.  For the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: 3rd Sunday of Lent 2016 - Living in the Present

If I asked you “where do you live?”: you might answer, Lyndhurst, or Mayfield Heights; you might say, off of Brainard, or if you are in a witty mood, you might say, the third planet from the sun, or if you are in a patriotic mood, you might say, the good old USA.  

If I asked you “when do you live?” that’s a different question.  Again with a variety of answers.  You might say, In the year 2016, in the second decade of the 21st Christian century.  Star Trek fans might say, “Star date  9-3-7-6-2 dot 6-3.” (Yes, that the accurate star date, by the way)

That question “when do we live” can also mean something a bit deeper—talking about a state of mind, or a state of soul.

For some of us, we are living in the present—we are focused on the here and now, with minds recollected for the worship of God.  Yet haven’t we all met others who seem to be living in the past—trapped in the past, unable to move on from something that happened to them in the past.  And haven’t we also met others who seemed to be consumed with the future—who are overly worried about the future, who are worried about what others will think of them, some time in the future. If you are more worried about what you will have for lunch, or what you will watch on television this afternoon: come and focus on the present.

Our Lenten readings today offered us to consider our relationship to past, present, and future—of past sins, of present struggles, and future concerns.  And at about this midpoint of Lent we encounter this very important spiritual principle: God is calling out to us to live in the present; to deal with the past—not to be suffocated by it, not to be enslaved by it; and to prepare for the future, not to be anxious about what might happen, not to put off for tomorrow what can be done today.

Looking at this First Reading today, it is a famous reading; you’ve heard it before in the past, you may have seen it depicted in movies.  It is one of those readings that if you are not careful you can miss some of the details because you think you are familiar with it.  Moses is in the wilderness and he is tending his father-in-law’s flock.  He sees an angel of the Lord within a burning bush calling out to Him.  Moses goes to examine the bush, and God calls out to him from the bush: “Moses! Moses!”

Listen how God reveals himself to Moses—he reveals himself in the present: “I am”. “I am”.  Not, I was the one who created everything.  Not, I was the one who was God to your ancestors.  No, “I am.”  God is active.  God is present, then and now.

Remember why Moses was in the wilderness at all.  Moses fled to the wilderness after he committed murder.  He fled.  He committed a grave sin.  And even though Moses had done this terrible, terrible thing, God is calling to this sinner, like God calls to all of us sinners, here, now. God is bigger than any past sin.

And then what do we hear in the second reading?  St. Paul recalls how God led the people of Israel out of slavery, through the waters of the sea, and in the desert God was feeding them with food from heaven.  But even though they were in the presence of God they were grumbling and desiring evil things.  They began living in the past, thinking that slavery in Egypt wasn’t so bad compared to this arduous journey God was leading them on.

St. Paul says that we need to learn from their mistakes.  When life’s journey gets difficult, we aren’t to turn back to our former sins, but persevere in faith—live faithfully in the present. They took their focus off of God and what God was doing in their midst—purifying them, preparing for the promised land.  So, too, we often, lose sight of God and we begin to grumble. And we begin to think, you know, sin isn’t that bad, it’s pleasurable.

Fainlly, in the Gospel Jesus’ parable of the fig tree.  This fig tree had not born any fruit for three seasons, the owner of the tree was ready to cut it down.  The gardener on the other hand, and isn’t God the Master Gardner, the gardener, argues to give this fig tree one more shot, he’s going to cultivate the ground and fertilize it.

Jesus gives us a very important insight into the heart of God.  Don’t be suffocated by your past.  Don’t live in the past.  You are baptized into God—your identity is in God and God is in “the now”  So live in the present.  Live in the light.  If you didn’t do great in the past, if you committed serious sin, if you didn’t bear fruit in the past, reconcile that to God.  Make a new beginning, and commit to living the faith as you are meant to.

A priest I know often says, the devil’s favorite day is tomorrow.  The Enemy works to distract us from fulfilling our Christian vocation today, so he tricks us into putting our faith in tomorrow.  Oh, I’ll start praying tomorrow, oh, I’ll start fasting tomorrow, oh, I’ll talk to my spouse about some of the problems in our marriage tomorrow, I’ll cook dinner and bring it to the homebound widow next door tomorrow, I’ll give up watching so much television tomorrow, I’ll start working on overcoming my addictions tomorrow.  To quote Meredith Wilson’s “The Music Man”: You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you are left with nothing but a lot of empty yesterdays.

During Lent, we strip away our distractions: all the noise, all the diversions, all the material things and pursuits of pleasure, all the empty promises, and enter into the quiet desert so we may hear, and see, and experience what is going on NOW:  God working to build up the body of Christ now, God drawing me more deeply into his divine life NOW.

If you haven’t yet this Lent.  Make a good confession. The Sacrament of Reconciliation is a new beginning, it’s wiping the slate clean.  In the Sacrament we accuse ourselves of our past sins, we state our intention to do everything in our power to avoid these sins in the future, we receive God’s mercy, and his grace to remain strong in the face of temptation.  Much progress in the spiritual life is hindered by unrepented sins.  Those big sins that we’ve been hiding, those little sins that have been piling up, they hinder our growth, locking us into the past.

Come to Reconciliation, hand your sins over to God, start over, start anew. The Lord is kind and merciful, and all we have to do to understand and appreciate and experience that mercy is to fall on our knees and say, “that was the past, and that’s who I was, and I’m sorry, I want to live in the now, and want Jesus to be the Lord of my life NOW.”

Let us not be discouraged by our failures and weaknesses this day, but have confidence that the Lord is kind and merciful.  He calls us to repentance because he desires that we live with Him now, that we walk with Him now, not tomorrow, but today.  He frees us from the shackles of the past and the future, so that we may freely live in perfect love and perfect charity for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Friday of the 2nd Week of Lent 2016 - Exposing the darkness

We can discern some very strong parallels between the Old Testament reading and the New Testament Reading this morning.  In the Old we read of how Joseph was betrayed by his brothers, in the New, Jesus gives us a parable of betrayal, the wicked tenants betray the landowner, and betray his son.

Why was Joseph betrayed by his brothers?  Envy is an obvious motive.  They were envious of the relationship Joseph had with his father, they were envious of the many gifts God had given him.  But Joseph was also a very virtuous man, and perhaps his virtue made them uncomfortable, as it pointed to their own lack of virtue.  The wicked do not like to be reminded of their sins and selfishness.

Jesus offered the parable of the wicked tenants to expose the motives of the Scribes and Pharisees who had already begun plotting to arrest and murder him. Why did the Scribes and Pharisees hate Jesus so? Why did they seek to silence him? Envy, perhaps.  Jesus had attracted quite a following of disciples.  People came to him to be healed, to be taught, and that was bad for business for the Scribes and Pharisees who prided themselves on being the religious experts—the teachers, the rabbis. 

 Perhaps the Scribes and Pharisees were envious of Jesus’ obvious wisdom, his purity, his goodness.  

Likely, the hated him most of all because Jesus exposed their wickedness, their hypocrisy. They were play-acting at wisdom. They claimed to be pure, while full of moral corruption; they declared themselves to be good, while turning away from the call to conversion.

Why betray Jesus? Why seek to arrest and murder goodness incarnate? Because darkness abhors the light. They killed him precisely because he was good. We killed him precisely because he was good.

These readings expose the darkness within us which abhors the light, those parts of us which reject the call of conversion.  We are called this Lent to prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, but there are parts of us which prefer banal entertainment and pleasures to praying, which prefer indulgence & drunkenness to fasting & self-control, and selfish accumulation to almsgiving.  

Those dark parts of us are precisely the parts which we must bring to the light of Christ this Lent to be converted. Let us respond to the call to conversion this Lent, not turning away from it, not thinking that it doesn’t apply to us, not exempting ourselves from it because of our many good deeds, but allowing the light of Christ to expose our inner darkness, that our selfishness may be transformed into service for the sake of the kingdom, for the glory of God and salvation of souls. 

Homily: Thursday of the 2nd Week of Lent - Where is your trust?

The prophets were always gifted at drawing the line in the sand, and Jeremiah does just that in the reading this morning.  Who do you trust?

Listen again to Jeremiah:

Cursed is the one who trusts in human beings,
who seeks his strength in flesh,
whose heart turns away from the LORD.

And on the other hand:

Blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD,
whose hope is the LORD.

Much hinges on that little word trust: it means the difference between being cursed and being blessed.

Those who trust in themselves are barren.  Those who trust in the Lord are like a tree planted near nourishing water.  It fears not the drought and yields fruit even during the dry times.

Consider the Rich man in the Gospel today: where did his trust lie?  Look at the fruit of his life: the rich man is so selfish and arrogant that he isn’t even aware of the poor man who begged at his very gate.  He cared more about his dogs than human beings.

John Paul II said one Lent that the “excessive desire for possessions prevents human beings from being open to their Creator and to their brothers and sisters” The rich man was so focused on his earthly possessions, his pets, his wealth, furnishing his home, that he became closed to God and his neighbor.

Excessive desire for material things and for immediate gratification is a key indicator of a lack of trust in God.  Our very own country’s official motto is “In God We Trust”.  Yet, what is the evidence of that?  What’s the evidence in our own lives of our trust in God?

Our readings today speak to our Lenten practice of almsgiving—this Lent we are called to a deeper trust in God that is evidenced by God works—by the works of mercy.  Two full weeks into Lent we do well to examine: where have I put my trust? where have I sought detachment from earthly pleasures in order to seek freedom to give of myself in service? Let not our lack of self-examination be the cause of our neglect of Lazarus who lies sick and dying at our gate.

May the Holy Spirit open the eyes of our hearts to see how God is calling each of us to a greater selflessness this Lent, to a deeper trust in Him, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Feb 23 2016 - St. Polycarp - Bearing 'much fruit' for the kingdom

We have many great saints whose feasts days fall within the Lenten season.  Today is the feast day of saint who was born just about 40 years after the death of Jesus. His name was Polycarp, and he was the bishop of a place called Smyrna, which is in the modern-day country of Turkey, not too far from Ephesus, where St. John took Mary to live after Jesus’ death and resurrection. In fact, Polycarp was a student of one of the disciples of St. John.

The name Polycarp means “much fruit”; reminding us that as Christians we are called to bear fruit for the Lord; our faithful to prayer and worship, our engagement in the works of charity, even our Lenten fasting is meant to bear fruit—to draw others to Christ, and to transform us into the people God made us to be.

Polycarp certainly bore much fruit. While the church was still young, St. Polycarp helped to form many holy disciples for the Lord; and because of his great faith, his courage and his brilliant mind, Polycarp was made bishop.

Yet, in speaking of bearing much fruit, we also recall the words of the Lord, who says, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain, but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Saint Polycarp died for Christ; he is one of the early Christian martyrs.

While he was bishop, at the age of 86, a violent persecution broke out in Smyrna against the Christians. Christians were being forced to give up their faith or face death. Because he was a bishop, Polycarp was arrested.  He was led directly to the roman judge, who ordered him make sacrifice to a pagan God and commit blasphemy.

Some of his Christian friends had urged him to make the sacrifice in order to save his life.  But, Polycarp responded, “for 86 years I have served Jesus Christ, and he has never abandoned me.  How could I curse my blessed king and savior.” So refusing to give up his faith, Polycarp was sentenced to be burned alive.

While tied to the stake, he prayed, “Almighty God, I give you praise, for you have counted me worthy to be among your martyrs, who drink the chalice of Christ’s sufferings.”  Eyewitnesses of his martyrdom tell us something very strange and miraculous happened when Polycarp was being burnt alive.  After he finished praying, the fire was lit, but the fire created a sort of dome around him, and instead of his flesh burning, his body was like bread baking in an oven, like gold a silver in a furnace, he began to radiate the light of God. And a sweat fragrance like burning incense filled the place.

Because he did not give up his faith, even when he was going to be put to death for it, he became a pleasing sacrifice to God, he would win the martyrs crown, and be with Christ in paradise, and his faith strengthens the faith of others, his faith strengthens us almost 2000 years later.

We are all called to be like Polycarp, strengthening others by our words and examples, never giving up the faith in face of temptation.  During Lent, we practice prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, we turn away from some of the earthly pleasure of life like videogames and desserts in order to show that Jesus is the most important person in our lives.  Through our Lenten sacrifices we can truly bear much fruit for the sake of God’s kingdom, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: February 22 2016 - Chair of St. Peter - Responsive to the Shepherd's Voice

In ancient Rome, families remembered their dead relatives and friends at a feast during the latter part of February in which an empty chair represented their deceased. Since the early Christians did not know the date of St. Peter’s death, they remembered him with a feast around his empty chair on February 22. Later, the Church would see the Chair of St. Peter as a symbol of his authority as the first bishop of Both Rome and of Antioch.

In the apse of St. Peter’s basilica in Rome there is a famous sculpture by Lorenzo Bernini, an ancient chair enclosed in sculpted bronze, with the holy spirit in the form of the dove hovering over the Chair.  Just below the chair, are four theologians, Ambrose and Augustine from the west, Athanasius and John Chrysostom from the west. To show how the great theologians from both the east and the west teach how Peter and his successors lead and guide the holy Church of Christ.

Sculpted into the very chair itself is the image of Jesus feeding the sheep. This is also significant to the role Peter and the Pope’s have in the Church.  Sitting in that chair, leading and guiding the Church, they are being faithful to the task Jesus himself gave to Peter, when he told him, “Peter, feed my sheep, feed my lambs.”

This is why, above the chair, along the apse is written "O Pastor Ecclesiae, tu omnes Christi pascis agnos et oves" (O pastor of the Church, you feed all Christ's lambs and sheep

In our first reading, St. Peter himself exhorted the bishops of the church to tend to the flock of God, not lording their authority over the sheep, but serving with love.  As Catholics we don’t resent the fact that we have popes and bishops in these leadership positions.  They serve us, by teaching us, helping us to be faithful to the Gospel of Jesus, correcting us when we step out of line, for the sake of our souls.

There are priests from our diocese who have lead entire groups of Catholics into schism, out of union with the Pope.  For them, today we pray. There are catholics, who may not be in formal schism, but who certainly act like it.  For them, we also pray.

We have been blessed during our lifetime, with very holy Popes.  One of my favorite images is that of the Pope John Paul II, Pope Benedict, and Pope Francis, side by side, with the words hope, faith, and love underneath.  Pope John Paul taught us how to have hope in Christ when the world was filling with greed and violence.  Pope Benedict taught us how to have clear and solid faith, when the world was filling with the darkness of error. And now Pope Francis teaches us to have love, when the world is filling up with selfishness and self-concern.

Today we certainly pray for the Pope and his successors, that they may continue to feed Christ’s flock, and we pray for ourselves as well, that we may be responsive to the voice of the Good Shepherd who speaks through Peter, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: 2nd Sunday of Lent 2016 - "It is good for us to be here"

Brothers and sisters, on this 2nd Sunday of the great season of Lent, I say to you in the words of Saint Peter in the Gospel today, “it is good that we are here.” Now, St. Luke tells us that when he said, “it is good that we are here” St. Peter didn’t quite understand what he was saying. “It was good” that Peter, James, and John witnessed the Transfiguration of the Lord on Mount Tabor, so good in fact, that Peter wanted to prolong the experience by building tents for Moses and Elijah to stick around for a while.  It was good for them to be there, but St. Luke insinuates that Peter really didn’t know why it was good.

So, why was it good? Let’s look a little deeper.  Jesus led Peter, James and John on this grueling hike up an exceedingly high mountain — an exertion of at least several hours — in order to pray with them. They could have prayed anywhere, right? They could have prayed in Peter’s home, they could have prayed on the side of the road, in an open field, or down by the Jordan river.

But, mountains are special places of prayer and encounter with God throughout the Bible. Moses encountered the glory of God after climbing Mt. Sinai. God spoke to Elijah in a gentle whisper on Mt. Horeb. The Temple was built on the top of Mt. Zion in Jerusalem. At the top of a mountain we can breathe fresh air. We can gain a different perspective, seeing so much more than we can when we’re immersed in so many things on the ground.

Coming to Mass is a lot like climbing the mountain; we come to a special place—a church building—in order to offer our most sacred act of worship, the Eucharist. Sometimes non-practicing Catholics will tell me that they don’t need to go to Mass in order to pray: they can pray anywhere.  That’s true.  But, one, you can’t fulfill your Sunday obligation by just praying anywhere, and two, we see Jesus in the Gospel leading his disciples to special places to pray: a mountain, a secluded place, the upper room where he celebrated the last supper, and the cross—where he offered the most perfect sacrifice to the Father, himself.

Mass even begins a lot like the Gospel today.  The Gospel began with a procession up a mountain, Mass today began with a procession up towards the altar.

And like a mountain top experience, Mass is to help us encounter God, gain a new perspective in life and breathe a breath of the Spirit’s fresh air that we can’t get sitting on our living room couch.
It was good that they went up the mountain with Jesus, but that’s not the only reason. Why else was it good? Well, the old testament figures Moses and Elijah showed up speaking to Jesus about the exodus he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem. In the books of Moses and the prophets in the old testament we read about how God works to bring about the sanctification and salvation of his people. So Moses and Elijah’s appearance at the transfiguration shows that the work of God for the salvation of souls was now culminating in Jesus.

Here is another parallel with the Mass.  At Nearly the Old Testament appears right next to the New Testament, just like on the Mount of Transfiguration, to show how the promises of the Old are fulfilled in Christ.

Today we heard in our Old Testament reading, about God’s promises of a multitude of descendants to Abraham, and then Abraham performed a sacrifice.

Now look around this church. You are the fulfillment of that promise. You are the descendants, members of the Church, the body of Christ. And a sacrifice, the one sacrifice of Christ is perpetuated in our midst, which is the well-spring of our communion with God and with each other.
It was good for Peter to recognize Jesus as the fulfillment of the law and the prophets, but that’s not the only reason it was good for him to be there.

It was good for them to witness Jesus’ transfiguration, when his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white.  Peter, James, and John, got a glimpse of the glory of Christ that will fully be revealed in heaven.

Here is another parallel with the Mass.  Just as at the transfiguration, at every Mass there is a miraculous change.  Bread and wine are changed into the body of blood of Jesus Christ and they are lifted up on the altar for all to behold.

It was good for Peter, James, and John to hear the voice of the Father speaking.  Perhaps, at Mass, we too can hear the Father speak in the silence of our hearts, the voice telling us to listen to, to follow, the teachings and commands of Jesus.

It was good for Peter, James, and John to fall silent after God spoke; being silent was probably the smartest and best thing they did. So too at Mass, we have moments of silence, to allow the impact of our celebration to really sink in.

But again, it was not simply these things that made the experience of the transfiguration good.
To know why it was good, you need to know a little bit about the Gospel of Luke, the verses surrounding the transfiguration story.  Immediately prior to Saint Luke’s account of the transfiguration, we read about a very important conversation between Jesus and his disciples.

You know the conversation well: they were walking through the region of Cesarea Philippi, Jesus asks his disciples about do people say that the son of man is.  Peter makes the profound confession, “Jesus, you are the Messiah of God”. Then Jesus drops the big one: he says, I must greatly suffer and be killed, and if anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.”

There can be no real life without the cross. You can imagine when Jesus told his disciples they too must die if they want to truly follow him, this was a bit of a downer.  So in the very next passage in Luke’s Gospel, we climb the Mount of Transfiguration.  Jesus gives Peter, James, and John a glimpse of his transfigured glory to show them the life they will inherit if they take up the cross and follow him.

This is why the transfiguration was so good: it prepared the apostles to not lose faith when they saw their Messiah being crucified, and it prepared them to take up their own cross and proclaim the good news to the world.

And here is our final parallel with the Mass, perhaps the most important one.  It is good to gather together in this holy place, it is good to listen to the words of Scripture, it is good for us to behold the lamb of God who becomes present in our midst, who becomes our spiritual food. But it is good because it prepares us to go out and to carry our crosses.

In the 2nd reading today, St. Paul lamented the Christians who were conducting themselves as “enemies of the cross” as he called them: their stomachs, their appetites, their pleasures became more important to them than following Jesus.

Let it not be the same for us.  This Eucharistic celebration, this encounter with Jesus Christ, prepares us to face and carry our cross, to suffer for the sake of the Gospel.  That might mean sharing the Gospel with non-believers, that might mean turning away from the pleasures of the flesh, that might mean financial sacrifice, the sacrifice of our time, talent, and treasure, it might mean doing battle with demons, as Jesus does immediately upon descending from the mount of transfiguration.  It is good that we are here, because here we are prepared to carry our cross, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.