Homily: Easter Thursday 2016 - Recounting our encounter with Christ

The gospel readings during the week after Easter unpack the tremendous event of Jesus’ resurrection particularly from the perspective of how the disciples experienced that event.  What must it have been like for the disciples to encounter the Jesus after his cruel death on the cross?

Today’s reading follows immediately after the encounter with Jesus by the two disciples on their way to Emmaus. Jesus came to them in their sorrow, walked with them, and made himself known to them. Remember, on the road to Emmaus, they recognized Jesus “in the breaking of the bread” and then Jesus he showed them how the Scriptures, beginning with Moses and the prophets pointed to Him.

Jesus being made known in the “breaking of bread” and reading and interpreting of Scriptures—sounds a lot like what we do at Mass, doesn’t it? We encounter Jesus and recognize Jesus in Word and Sacrament.

Now, they’ve returned to Jerusalem to share these experiences with the other disciples, and Jesus becomes present in their midst. 

One of the practices engaged in by the neophytes during the Easter Season is called mystagogy.  Those newly initiated into the Church at Easter recount how they experienced Jesus in the celebration of Word and Sacrament at the Easter Vigil.  They recount how the powerful symbols of the Easter Vigil—the fire, the singing, the water, the oil, the rituals, helped them to experience the presence of Jesus, and what that means for them.  This practice of mystagogy help them to more deeply grasp what happened to them at Easter, what God is doing with them and in them now. This strengthens them as they begin to walk in the newness of life of the Christian faith, and also witnesses to the rest of the Church.

As the disciples recounted their experience of the risen Lord Jesus on the road to Emmaus to the disciples of Jerusalem, he again became present, and helped to deepen their faith, remove their fears, and prepare them for spreading the Good News.

Sharing our faith is not meant to be limited to what we do here in the Church.  What we do here in the Church, celebrating Word and Sacrament, is meant to prepare us for sharing the Gospel out in the world: with unbelievers and those struggling in their faith.

We, like the disciples of old, are meant to share our faith with great joy with others, and when that happens, Jesus can become present to them, and can set them on the road to deepening their faith, removing their fears, leading them away from sin.

The best way to grow in faith, is to share the faith; when we read the scriptures we are meant to discuss them with others, and when that happens our minds are made more fully open to them. When we receive a sacrament, that experience is meant to be shared with others, and when we do that, our hearts are made more fully open to how God is working.  Even as we encounter Jesus in the ordinary events of our lives, that is meant to be shared with joy. 

May each of us, leave Mass today with a greater sense of mission and conviction for spreading the good news of our encounter with the Lord Jesus in Word and Sacrament for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Easter Tuesday 2016 - Believing is seeing

Throughout John’s Gospel, there are many reactions to Jesus’ words and works.  Some hear his words and believe in him because of his authority, some find his words too challenging and walk away, some conspire to kill him. But really, there are only two reactions to Jesus: belief and unbelief. 

And in John’s Gospel, belief isn’t something you have, believing is something you do, you choose to do.  Believing in Jesus means entrusting yourself to Him, knowing him, receiving him, coming to him, abiding with him, and remaining with him.

And Jesus even teaches the implications for believing: if you believe, you will have peace, he says, you will become children of God, you will not perish, you will not be condemned, you will know the Father, you will never be hungry, you will see the glory of God and be children of light, you will come to do the works that Jesus does and even greater works, and you will have life in his name.

Even after his resurrection, in John’s Gospel, there is this interplay between belief and unbelief.  This weekend we will hear how Thomas claims that you will not believe without seeing.  But Jesus shows that he has it backwards, you will not see, unless you believe.

This morning, we hear how Mary, because of her weeping, because of her grief did not recognize Jesus.  She saw, but did not know him.

Many modern atheists make the claim that they would believe in Jesus if he but appeared to them.  But that’s not how it works does it? We must believe in order to see.  But when we make that choice, when we entrust ourselves to Him, that makes all the difference doesn’t it.  When we choose to believe, we are able to detect his voice in the reading of scripture, we are able to see his presence in the service of the needy, we are able to experience his saving grace in the sacraments, especially knowing his real presence in the Blessed Sacrament, the Eucharist.

After finally recognizing Jesus in the Gospel this morning, Jesus tells Mary to go and tell the disciples about Jesus’ resurrection.  Perhaps one of the greatest ways to strengthen our faith is to spread the faith.  Helping others open their eyes to Jesus’ opens our own eyes even further. 

As Jesus called Mary by name to spread his Gospel, if you listen to his voice, you can hear him calling your own name: Go and tell others, that you have seen the Risen Lord. They may look at you like you are insane, but they might listen attentively, because God has been preparing them to receive the message.

May each of us be strengthened in faith by sharing the faith, and lead those in unbelief, to the new life of faith through the Risen Christ for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Easter Monday 2016 - Fearful, yet overjoyed

When Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to the place where Jesus was buried, their first encounter was with an empty tomb.  Jesus’ body laid to rest on Good Friday was missing.  Unlike, the eleven apostles had fled from their master’s passion in fear, these two women had watched Jesus die in agony, and witnessed his interment in the tomb: they had followed Jesus to the bitter end.

What brought them to the tomb on Easter morning? St. Mark says that they came with spices to complete the burial rites left unfinished by Joseph of Arimathea. St. Matthew omits this detail, 

perhaps to intimate, that what really brought them to the tomb was Hope.  Hope that Jesus’ words and his promises would be fulfilled.  Hope, that he had risen, just as he said he would. 

Their first encounter was with an empty tomb, their second encounter that morning was with an angel heralded by a great earthquake—and he truly had some earth-shattering news: Jesus has risen!

The last time we met the angel of the Lord in Matthew’s Gospel, Joseph was being told not to fear taking the pregnant Virgin Mary as his wife, now the angel offers that same greeting to the women at the tomb, “Do not be afraid!” Why would these courageous women be afraid, especially if hope had brought them to the tomb? In Scripture, fear is a common experience in the face of some powerful work of God—and the resurrection, though promised by Jesus is still beyond our imagining…or perhaps, the angel wanted to reassure these women that Jesus’ body had not been stolen. And they left the angel “fearful, yet overjoyed” as they carried this message of the resurrection.

 “Fearful, yet overjoyed” is a great description for all of us tasked with the message of spreading the Gospel. We are fearful, because we are all in unfamiliar territory.  We will not know how the message will be received. We are not entirely sure how we will reach out to those who appear to have hard hearts.  Yet, we are overjoyed in being tasked with this mission.

I think of the newly baptized on Easter.  How overjoyed they must be in receiving the new life of grace, yet also a little fearful—how will they maintain that joy, and maintain this new relationship with the risen Lord? Certainly with our help, yes?

The most important encounter the two Mary’s had that morning, wasn’t with an empty tomb, not even with the angel.  The third encounter they had was with the Risen Lord Jesus himself.

In earlier years, it was customary for the newly baptized to attend Mass throughout the entire octave of easter, so they could encounter the Lord as they encountered him in the easter sacraments, once again in the reading of scripture and the celebration of Eucharist.

And all of us need that constant encounter with the Lord: in our communal worship, in the scriptures, in the study of our faith, in service to the needy, and of course, in the blessed sacrament.

We are blessed to have that great honor this morning. May the Lord, give us courage in our fearful mission of spreading his Gospel, and fill us with joy at knowing his constant presence with us, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Easter Sunday 2016 - He is Risen!

During Lent, a wonderful movie was released about the resurrection of Jesus Christ seen from the eyes of a Roman military official.  The movie was called ‘Risen’.

The movie begins much like our Gospel reading today: with an empty tomb.  And this Roman military official, who witnessed the execution of Jesus on Good Friday, is ordered by the governor Pontius Pilate to investigate what happened to Jesus’ body.

It is a fascinating film.  It as if you are transported to first century Jerusalem: the palace of Pontius Pilate, mount Calvary where Jesus was crucified, the tomb belonging to Joseph of Arimathea where Jesus was laid. 

And it is also interesting to watch this film from the perspective of this Roman military officer. He had not before heard of Jesus and his band of apostles.  He himself prayed to one of the Roman gods, Mars, the god of war.  And his entire world is shaken when he begins to meet with those who claim that Jesus had risen from the dead. 

His investigations led him to seek out the testimony of Mary Magdalene and the Apostles.  What struck him was how these people who had been filled with so much grief on Good Friday were now, after Easter, filled with peace and joy and fearlessness and conviction.

One of the Apostles, Bartholomew could barely contain his excitement.  Jesus had risen! He had appeared to them! He won! The kingdom of peace and joy that Jesus promised was being established! The old kingdom of sin and death and violence and hatred and perversion was itself passing away to make way for the new kingdom that would last forever.

Brothers and sisters, on this easter morn, we are called to consider our reaction to the resurrection of Jesus.  Are we like the Roman Military official, not quite sure if this really happened? Or, are we like the apostles? Filled with joy and excitement and conviction that He is Truly Risen?

From time to time, I meet fellow Christians who claim that their faith would be so much stronger if they had lived back then: if they had been one of the apostles or heard and seen Jesus preach and perform miracles.  But brothers and sisters, God did not choose us to live back then, God chose us to witnesses to the Resurrection of Jesus here and now—to live and proclaim our Easter Faith in this 21^st Christian century: He is Risen, he is truly risen.

And if you believe that, it changes everything.  No longer are we to live as part of the old fallen regime.  We no longer take part in its fallen sinful practices. No longer are we to imbibe in its glamours and false promises.   No longer are we to fear the powers of this world which seek to silence the message of Christ.

We are to joyfully and fearlessly witness to the doubters, the lost souls, the souls trapped in cycles of addiction and sin, that freedom and new life is possible through Christ because he is victorious over sin and death—sin has no power over those who are filled with the resurrected life of Jesus Christ.

On one level, we have a pretty easy time making the transition from Lent to Easter. We naturally prefer feasting to fasting, rejoicing to sacrificing. We prefer singing Alleluia to doing penance.  For those of you who took Lenten penance seriously, we are glad that Lent is over.  Yet, on another level, the transition from Lent to Easter is life challenging—this is when the real work begins—the work of spreading Christian joy, the work of fearlessly standing up for our faith, the work of witnessing to unbelievers.

St. Paul said to us in the second reading, “If you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above.” Lent was supposed to help us put earthly things behind us. Are you ready to put earthly things behind you? Are you ready to leave earthly pursuits in the past, so you can seek the things that are above: truth, goodness, beauty, patience, peace, joy.

When Jesus rose from the dead on Easter Sunday morning nearly 2000 years ago, he rose WITH HIS SCARS! In the resurrection, in glory, Jesus STILL BEARS THESE GLORIOUS WOUNDS of his crucifixion. So too with us. The sacrifices and penances of Lent have prepared us for Easter living.  During Lent, we tilled the soil of our souls, that the new life of Easter might be planted, and bear fruit of fearlessness, joy, perseverance in good works, patience, and generous charity. 

In just a moment, we will renew the promises of our Baptism. We will promise once again to put behind us the old life of sin, to walk with Christ in newness of life, to make our souls places where the risen Christ may dwell and bear fruit and draw sinners to himself through us. 

How will you ensure Christ’s victory will continue in you? As you renew the promises of baptism, renew your commitment to Sunday Mass, daily prayer, regular reading of Scripture, generous charity, patience with one another—for authentic Christian joy is impossible without them.  Easter is not simply meant to be celebrated once a year, but daily, as easter faith is lived out in the lives of the Christian people, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Good Friday 2016 - Present on Calvary

Since the earliest times of the Church, no Mass has been offered on Good Friday. Instead the service has consisted of a solemn procession, readings (including the Passion in the Gospel of St. John), a series of petitions, the veneration of the cross, and a Communion service.

Good Friday is the one day of the entire Church year when Mass may not be celebrated. And this may be somewhat surprising.  At every Mass, Jesus’ sacrifice of Himself on the cross is made present.  It would seem that Good Friday is the one day that Mass should be celebrated as we gather solemnly for the commemoration of the Holy Passion and Death of Our Lord.

Why, of all days, is Mass not celebrated on Good Friday?

St. Thomas Aquinas, the greatest theologian in Church history took up this question in his Summa Theologiae. He wrote: “The figure ceases on the advent of the reality….the sacrament is a figure and a representation of our Lord's Passion…And therefore on the day on which our Lord's Passion is recalled as it was really accomplished, this sacrament is not consecrated.”

St. Thomas Aquinas is saying, that on Good Friday, we who gather in commemoration of the Lord’s passion are present on Calvary in such a unique way that we don’t need to celebrate Mass.  Through the Good Friday Liturgy, we are united to Christ—sharing in his sacrifice.  This is seen through the rituals of this day: the priests begin laying prostrate, the people kneel, as if at the foot of the cross, calling to mind the full reality of his sacrifice.

The scriptures are read with such solemnity that we are transported in time, 2000 years ago, to that sorrowful day.

Our prayers, for the needs of the world and needs of the Church are so solemn, so intense, in order to recognize that in the sacrifice of the Cross God has answered all prayers.

Following our solemn petitions, we will come forward to venerate the Holy Cross, the instrument of our salvation.  We come forward as if coming to THE ONE CROSS—the very cross of Calvary.
It was not until about the year 800, that the practice of receiving Holy Communion on Good Friday was established.  St. Thomas Aquinas explains this too, when he says, “lest the Church be deprived on Good Friday of the fruit of the Passion offered to us by this sacrament, the body of Christ consecrated the day before is reserved to be consumed...”

Though Mass is not celebrated, we receive today the fruit of the Passion, in Holy Communion, the saving flesh and blood of Jesus, after venerating the Holy Cross, the instrument of our salvation. Eternal life won for us on the cross is bequeathed to us in Holy Communion; for as our Lord said, “he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life.”

Today is called “Good” because it is the fount of our salvation. The sounds, the sights, the emotions of Good Friday are to permeate our lives—they are to echo throughout the entire Church year, lest we ever forget that it is not by our own deeds that we come to heaven, but by his labor of love embracing pain and suffering beyond all telling for our redemption.

We keep this day solemn by kneeling, laying prostrate on Calvary; we place ourselves under the shadow of the cross, that his blood may wash us clean, that his will obedient to the Father unto death may spurn us on in our spread of the Gospel, that his perseverance may help us remain faithful to God throughout all of life’s trials and tribulations, that his love for sinners may beat in our hearts.

As we approach the cross and receive the flesh and blood of Our Savior this day, in the words of St. Paul “let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help” and moreso, as Christ himself “offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears” let us too tearfully, reverently, honestly, and with great love, offer ourselves with Christ as a living sacrifice to God, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Good Friday Morning Prayer Reflection: "Have mercy on me, O God" (Psalm 51)

Every Friday of the Church year, the Church recites in morning prayer Psalm 51, one of the seven Penitential Psalms of David.

Pope Innocent III, reigning at the beginning of the 13th century decreed for the Church of his time, that the Psalms be prayed with great devotion throughout the entire season of Lent.

In each of these Psalms there is an honest recognition of one’s sinfulness and a pleading to God for mercy.  In Psalm 51, often called the “Miserere” from its latin translation, David humbles himself before God, acknowledging the gravity of his adultery with Bathsheba.  David’s lust caused the death of Bathsheba’s husband, and for this David himself deserves death. Yet, instead of falling on his sword, he falls to his knees and begs God’s mercy.

“MISERERE MEI, Deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam, HAVE MERCY ON ME, O God, according to Thy great mercy” is a fitting prayer for all of us to pray daily. For in our sin, we are all in need of God’s mercy.  And how fitting indeed is it for us, to recall these sentiments on the most solemn of days.

Horrible was the nature of my sins, but boundless is the mercy that stretches out its arms to any man who comes in search of it.

Today, fittingly begins the powerful novena of Divine Mercy.  I encourage all Catholics to pray this Novena, praying for the Church, praying for sinners lost in sin, praying for those who do not believe in God, praying for ourselves, that we may encounter and experience the boundless mercy which saves our souls.

Homily: Tuesday of Holy Week 2016 - 3 Holy Week Responses to Jesus

Each of the Gospels relate scenes from the night before Jesus died.  On this Tuesday of Holy Week, we are taken to the table of the Last Supper, where Jesus predicts his death and his betrayal.

Three characters have three different responses to Jesus: John, the beloved disciples lays his head on Jesus’ chest .  Peter, confesses his desire to follow Jesus even unto death, but at the sight of the cross flees in fear.  And Judas, with betrayal in his heart goes into the night. 

Sometimes we are like John: we have moments of great intimacy with Jesus, of deep prayer and unshakable love for the Lord.  Of all the apostles, it is John who stands at the cross with the Blessed mother. 

Sometimes, we are like Peter: we can be so pious and enthusiastic one moment, saying, “Master, I will lay down my life for you”, and then the next moment we are running away in fear.

And then sometimes we are like the silent Judas, rejecting the light and slinking off into the darkness—to sin.

At this Holy Mass, we are like those disciples at the Last Supper: some of us are drawing near to Jesus as we should, like John, some of us are enthusiastic initially, like Peter, but at the sight of the cross, we run away, and some of us may even be like Judas, not willing to give up our sin.

We have all been like Judas, from time to time. Judas betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, we betray him often for so much less, a moment of passing pleasure, a juicy morsel of gossip shared on social media, sports practice instead of attending Sunday Mass. 

How will we ever stop acting like Judas and more like John, however will we get over our fear of the cross, and instead of lip service, like Peter, we really do come to lay down our life for the Lord?

First, we must count our faith, our relationship with Jesus more valuable than anything.  Being faithful is more valuable than any sports trophy, than any passing pleasure.

Secondly, we must like John, lay our heads on the chest of Jesus in daily prayer.  If you are not putting your ear next to Jesus heart, how can you learn to love him and love others as he loves?

Thirdly, practicing fasting and abstinence and acts of mercy, not just through Lent but throughout the whole year, helps us to overcome our fear of the cross. When we can practice sacrifice in small things, we become more willing to practice it in larger things.

As we prepare to enter into the most sacred three days of the Church year—the sacred triduum, may we continue to be strengthened in our love for him as we journey with him to the cross, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Monday of Holy Week 2016 - The jar of precious oil

What a beautiful, intimate, tender, moment, we’ve just heard described on this Monday of the Holiest Week of the year, when Mary anoints the feet of Jesus, and washes them with her hair.

We had met Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, previously in the Gospel.  She sat at the feet of Jesus, listening, contemplating his face.  When Martha complained that Mary wasn’t helping with the household tasks, Jesus said, that it was Mary who had chosen the better thing. “Few things are needed in life,” Jesus said, “and really only one thing.” To sit at the feet of Jesus, to learn from him, and to love him, is the one thing necessary in this life. 

When we come to the judgment of our life, it will not matter how much many we made, the size of our house, the number of friends we’ve had, the number of trophies and awards.  The only thing that will matter is: did we do the one necessary thing that Mary did, did we learn from Jesus and love him.

I was talking to the third graders last week about the events of Holy Week, and we talked about the scene from our Gospel today. “Why did Mary take a jar of perfumed oil that cost thirty thousand dollars in today’s money and pour it all out and wash Jesus’ feet with it?” I asked the third graders.  And one of the children raised their hand and gave the perfect answer: “Because he is God.”

During this Holy Week, our love and affection for Jesus should fill the room like the fragrance of ointment.  It should be detectable by those we meet. Time spent contemplating the face of the Lord, this Week, meditating upon his love for us, his suffering, his humility, his patience, his unutterable beauty and glory should change us.  This is our task this week, the one thing necessary: to give Jesus the best we have in adoring Him, in contemplating Him, in following Him, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Palm Sunday 2016 - Paradox of Sorrow and Joy

Today we are in the middle of a paradox.

On the one hand, we are filled with joy.

As Jesus enters Jerusalem, throngs of people rejoice. The promised Savior has finally come! The Messiah is here! Redemption is at hand!

But then, on the other hand, we are sorrowful.  We hear proclaimed the sorrowful narrative of our Lord’s Passion—his rejection, his suffering, his death.

Today is full of so much joy and sorrow—much like the typical to Christian life—the life of the ordinary Christian is filled with both isn’t it? Sorrow and joy—defeat and victory.

For Christ: what seems to be his defeat on mount calvary, the cause of overwhelming sorrow, is actually his victory.  His passion is the victory of everlasting love.

"A man can have no greater love than to lay down his life for his friends" That's what Jesus taught, and that's what he did in his passion: to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that his love for us has no limits.

He entered the world in way similar to the way he entered Jerusalem.  At his birth, angels sang "Glory to God in the Highest" when Jesus was born in Bethlehem, and now the people sing, "Hosanna in the Highest" as Jesus enters Jerusalem.

Both entrances were motivated by God's love.  Out of obedient love he became man, and out of that same love he is obedient to the Father even to the point of death—to save us from our sins.

The source of our sorrow is sin, our sins; in one sense, the cause of Christ's suffering is our sins.  Christ’s blood is on our hands, all of our hands. In another sense, the cause of Christ’s suffering is his love. He suffers because he loves; thereby showing us the true face of love.  True love is not a storybook romance; true love is the cross. He suffered for us, to open the gates of heaven for sinful man.

We have solved our paradox.  There is sadness because of sin, but there is joy because of Christ’s selfless compassion, his unselfish love.  By his death he has obtained for us a redemption that is eternal.

Today is the beginning of the holiest week of the year, the week we call Holy Week.  During the first Holy Week, two thousand years ago, Jesus achieved victory over sin and evil.  During this Holy Week, he wants to extend that victory into the parts of our lives that still need it conversion, those parts of our hearts and lives we have kept closed to the redeeming power of Christ.  Those selfish, unloving parts of us, we need to bring to the cross to be transformed.

May we make this week different by turning off the radio and television more often than usual, by spending more time in prayer than we do on the internet, and joining in this week’s liturgies, praying, worshiping, contemplating, receiving the Sacraments and the transforming power of grace this Holy Week for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Friday of the 5th Week of Lent 2016 - "You are gods"

One week from Good Friday, with Holy Week looming on the horizon, our Gospel today begins in a dramatic fashion, the opponents of Jesus are ready to stone him to death—the violence, the plotting, the hostility toward Jesus is all starting to mount and come to a climax. 

It was the festival of the Dedication of the Temple—what today is called Hanukah, and Jesus stood in a sacred place, one of the porticos of the Temple, preaching the truth about how he has been sent by the Father as the promised Messiah, the Son of God.

This enrages the people who weren’t ready to believe in Him, and certainly weren’t ready to give him the authority as the Messiah.  So they plotted against him, and were prepared to carry out that plot by stoning him to death as the Gospel opened today.

Jesus then speaks up and asks them, “why” are they persecuting him? They claim Jesus has committed blasphemy, but Jesus claims, “I have simply been restating to you what is in your own scriptures.”  He says, “you are trying to kill me for claiming to be the Son of God, while your own scriptures make that claim about all God’s people”  And he is right, of course.  Psalm 82 speaks about the children of Israel can rightly be called “gods”—not because they have any claim on Divinity—but because God speaks to them as his own children—and calls them into a filial relationship through justice and sharing his divine life.

This is a wonderful Psalm to keep in mind as we enter into Holy Week and as we remember all that Jesus suffers.  He undergoes all of this tremendous suffering, why? To enable us to be called children of God, to raise us up to this relationship with God where we are able to share his divine life—“to share in the divine nature” as we read in 2^nd Peter. Thomas Aquinas, quoted in our Catechism said: “"The only-begotten Son of God, wanting to make us sharers in his divinity, assumed our nature, so that he, made man, might make men gods."

Remember, one of the promises of the beatitudes: blessed are the peacemakers, for the shall be called children of God.  That is our destiny, to be God’s children: obedient, sharing God’s joy, the treasures of his household. As a result of what Jesus accomplishes a week from today, we are able to experience what the catechism calls “divine filiation”—able to turn to God and cry out to him, saying “Abba Father”. 

Amidst the chaotic political events, so much darkness and bafflement in the world, Christians, Pope Benedict said, “remain unshakably certain that God is our Father and loves us, even when his silence remains incomprehensible.”  The same peace, faith, obedience, trust, and fortitude that will flow through Jesus’ veins as he undergoes his passion next week, dwells in the souls of the baptized.

Let us never forget that great dignity, and allow it to motivate us in our efforts to serve Our Lord, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Thursday of the 5th Week of Lent 2016 - What's in a name

Throughout Scripture there are several accounts of God changing peoples’ names: Jacob’s name is changed to Israel, Simon’s name is changed to Peter, Saul’s name is changed to Paul. In our first reading today, God gives Abram the new name, Abraham, for he shall be the father of God’s great nation. In the biblical context a name-changing occurs when God gives a special mission to someone. Jesus change Simon’s name to Peter when he gave him the special mission of being the rock upon which Jesus would build his Church.

In baptism, our deepest identity is changed—we are renamed---we are given the name of ‘Christian’.  And just like Abraham, Peter, and Paul—that new name comes with a mission—spreading the Gospel and sharing in God’s divine life.

In Scripture, people get into trouble whenever they try to “make a name for themselves”. Remember, the tower of Babylon? The people sought to build a tower that touched the heavens to “make a name for themselves”…they didn’t do it to glorify God, they didn’t do it to house the poor, they didn’t do it to make God’s name great, they did it for themselves, for their own glory.

Today’s first reading takes place right after the story of the fall of the tower of Babylon—for that’s the destiny of all purely human endeavors—our towers fall inevitably. With the tower fallen, humanity in disarray, God chooses Abraham to be the father of a people whose vocation will be to make God’s name known throughout the earth.  Through their faithfulness to the commandments, through their intimate union with God—people will come to know God through them.

That promise to Abraham is fulfilled in the Christian Church, as we, the baptized, those raised to new life by Christ, have as our vocation spreading Christ’s name to every corner of the earth by our witness of holy living.

Yet, we have the same temptation don’t we: to make our lives all about ourselves, to live for ourselves instead of for him, to make ourselves the center of the universe instead of him.  Our Lenten penances have helped us to repent and convert from this terrible pride.  Our Lenten practices have been designed to help us decrease, so that his name may increase.  The amazing a paradoxical thing is, the more we become like him, the more we become the people God created us to be.  We do not lose our identity, rather, our identity, our names, are perfected.  When we submit every detail of our life over to God, we become the-best-version-of-yourself, as Matthew Kelly puts it.

Sadly, in many parts of our country, even our own town, St. Patrick, a man who lived for Christ, will be honored without any reference to Christ.  The man who was sold into slavery, who drove out false religion from the emerald isle, will be celebrated not with sober mindfulness, but with ignorant drunkenness. Many have remade Patrick to look like themselves, a life, with no reference to Christ.

Conscious of our need to decrease, to glorify Christ, let us continue in our Lenten practices, mindful of our vocation to make Christ’s name great, to spread his saving Gospel in a fallen world, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Tuesday of the 5th Week of Lent 2016 - The crucified lifted up

The Israelites in the desert had taken their eyes off of what God was doing for them, so they began to complain.  God was freeing them from slavery and leading them to the promised land, but their complaints and hardness of hearts caused them to be dead in sin. To symbolize their spiritual death, saraph serpents killed many of the Israelites. Yet, realizing they had sinned, they repented. A saraph serpent was then placed on a pole, and became the remedy for their sin.

Failing to recognize that Jesus was truly the Son of God, Jesus told the Pharisees that they would die in their sins unless they looked upon him and believed that he was God.

In these dark times, even many Catholics look to the crucified one and see nothing.  They fail to make Him the God of their life. They fail to recognize Him as savior. They refuse his call to turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel.

It is the task of faithful Christians to hold him up for the world to see—in our speech, in our behaviors, and in our prayers, that they may see him and believe.

The great lover of the Crucified, St. Paul of the Cross, would often go from parish to parish, preaching parish missions.  When he would preach these missions, he would often hold out to the congregation a crucifix, and simply holding the crucifix out for all to see, he would say, “listen to his love.”

He said, "When you are alone in your room, take your crucifix, kiss its five wounds reverently, tell it to preach to you a little sermon, and then listen to the words of eternal life that it speaks to your heart; listen to the pleading of the thorns, the nails, the precious Blood. Oh, what an eloquent sermon!"

Look at the hands of Jesus, always open during life, still open, still giving, healing to the last drop of blood.

Look at the feet of Jesus, which climbed the mountain of Calvary, now lifted up and nailed to the cross for our salvation.

Look at the side of Jesus from which flowed the blood and water, the fountain of the sacramental life of the Church

It is up to us, dear brethren, to help those who do not look upon Christ with faith, to see that he reaches out to them from the cross with tremendous love. We are to help them embrace Him, as he longs to bring them mercy, strength, and peace, as he has for us.  May each of us keep his tremendous outpouring of love ever before our eyes, in our mind, and in our hearts, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Monday of the 5th Week of Lent 2016 - Susanna, Jesus, and Us

susanna-and-the-elders-1588-paulo-veronese

Today we have one of the longest First Readings that we have in the entire lectionary.  It is the 13^th Chapter, a long chapter, from the book of the Prophet Daniel.  It is almost 60 verses long.  It is the story of this beautiful, faithful woman, Susanna, who is falsely accused by two corrupt evil old men, who wanted to have their way with her.  Lying to protect themselves the two wicked elders seek to have Susanna put to death.

Then Daniel steps in, advocates for her: and the two corrupt judges were convicted and Susanna goes free.

As I mentioned last week, our scripture readings for the last part of Lent point not so much to Lenten penances that we are to undertake, but to Christ—they help us prepare to understand what happens as Jesus is arrested, tortured, put to death, and is raised.

How does the Susanna story point to Christ? Who is Christ in the story? In a sense he is Susanna: beautiful, faithful, innocent, arrested because of the words of corrupt elders.

And though he suffers humiliation, torture, revilement, mockery, suffering, and death, he is exonerated, and vindicated by God, as Susanna was by Daniel, when he is Resurrected.  His Father testifies on Christ’s behalf, as we heard in the Gospel, when Jesus is raised from the dead.

At the end of the first reading, we heard how “the whole assembly cried aloud, blessing God who saves those who hope in him.”  Not only is Jesus foreshadowed in the Susanna reading, but his body the Church as well.  We are that assembly who now cries out, blessing God who saves those who hope in him.

In the beautiful, and well-known responsorial Psalm, we proclaimed: “Even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil; for you are at my side”.  Susanna showed her fearlessness as she went through her dark valley, as she trusted in God. Jesus will show himself to be Fearless as he went through his dark valley, during the events of Holy Week. And we learn from their example, what it means to be people of hope.

This Lent should have toughed us up a bit, going into the desert should always do that. It should have toughened us up against the temptations of the flesh, which we resisted through our Lenten Penances. And it should also be strengthening our resolve that the same Spirit of Jesus who endures so much suffering, so much darkness, faithfully during Holy Week, dwells within us.

That no matter the darkness we face, we do so with Christ at our side, in our hearts, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: 5th Sunday of Lent 2016 - The Hound of Heaven & the Adulterous woman

"I fled Him down the nights and down the days 

I fled Him down the arches of the years
I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears
I hid from him…."

So begins the poet Francis Thompson's famous poem entitled "The Hound of Heaven."  One scholar wrote, “’The Hound of Heaven’ is the sweetest, deepest, strongest poem ever written in the English tongue.”  And in this magnificent ode, we hear the story of a soul’s flight from God.

For centuries before, English poets had written of man’s search for God—the soul’s eager quest for the kingdom of heaven.  But drawing upon his own spiritual experience, Francis Thompson presents something very relatable for us sinners—the soul running away from God. 

We flee from God in so many ways don’t we—distractions, addictions, seeking happiness in the admiration of others. “We flee Him down the nights and down the days, we flee him down the arches of the years.”

I think of the woman caught in adultery in today’s Gospel.  She turned to sin for the same reason any of us turn to sin.  We think it will make us happy.  The adulterous woman sought happiness in an adulterous relationship—the carnal pleasures of illicit companionship.

Francis Thompson was a Roman Catholic who led a tortured life.  After abandoning studies to become a priest and later a physician, he drifted and fell into financial hard times.  His troubles worsened when he developed a painful neurological condition and began using opium to relieve his pain.  Though he fought off his drug habit, he eventually succumbed to tuberculosis, dying a month short of his 48^th birthday.  He knew from experience what it meant to flee from God down the “labyrinthine ways Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears.” We may have members of our own families who struggle with such addictions, who appear to be fleeing from God with all their might.

Yet, the point of the poem, isn’t simply that we flee from God, that part is obvious.  Francis Thompson called God the “hound from heaven”, who pursues us even as we flee Him.  God relentlessly pursues us sinners so he can save us. God pursues us because he desires us to be whole and happy, but we flee from him, the poem states, because we worry that we will have to sacrifice our earthly delights if we accept God. How often has God urged us to pray, but we resist because we worried we’d miss a favorite television show? How foolish of us. God calls out to us, offering us refreshment, peace, strength, and we choose paltry entertainment.  How foolish.  But God is unrelenting. And thanks be to God that he is—that he does not give up on us.

In the Gospel, the adulterous woman is brought before Jesus—the hound of heaven had caught up with her.

The Pharisees who had no mercy in their hearts wished Jesus to condemn her to death. But Mercy himself spoke,  “Let him who is without sin among you, be the first to throw a stone at her.”  And what a beautiful intimate moment, after the Scribes and the Pharisees and the crowds walked away in shame, and only two remained, the adulterous woman and the incarnation of mercy.

“Has no one condemned you?”  “No one, Lord” “Neither do I condemn you; go, and sin no more.” Here, she encounters mercy, she surrenders to it, and is enabled to make a new beginning of her life.  God always offers us a new beginning—a life free from sin devoted to doing the will of God.

The poem, “The Hound of Heaven” reaches its climax when the exhausted soul finally surrenders to the Love of God.  It finally gives up all of its carnal desires and instead of fleeing, it allows itself to be led by God. The souls recognizes that only God can provide true and lasting happiness; the pleasures and comforts of this world—which are temporary and incomplete—cannot satisfy our deep longing for God.

St. Paul is another example of one who finally surrendered to the love and mercy of Christ. Remember, Paul had been the most zealous persecutor of Christians in that first generation of the Church.  He was a high born, purebred Israelite, a Pharisee, well educated, zealous for his faith, a scrupulous follower of the law.

But because of his encounter with Mercy, he is able to say in the second reading today “But whatever gains I had, these I have come to consider a loss because of Christ.  More than that, I even consider EVERYTHING as loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my lord.”  What happened?  What happened to this man who had it all?  He had everything you would want as a Jew of his time—he came from the best neighborhood, the best family, went to the best school, had the leading job, was admired by everybody.  And he says, “All this is rubbish—compared to being taken possession of by Christ Jesus.”

Friends, God loves us; he pursues us, calls out to us to accept His mercy and turn away from sin, and experience the new life he has in store for us. God is constantly at work in all of our lives, here, now, chasing after us, pleading with us to put away our sins, our distractions, and our addictions, and learn to let him lead us in a life of ever greater submission to the Divine Will of God.

Thursday night, here at St. Clare we have a Lenten Penance service.  Between now and then, I encourage each of you to make a good examination of conscience—consider all the ways that you may be fleeing from God, and then come and encounter his mercy in the sacrament of confession.  Allow him to catch up to you, surrender to Him, and receive his mercy.

And if you aren’t in need of the Sacrament, in these final two weeks of Lent, let us all redouble our efforts to strip away all those things which lead us to sin, all those things that get in the way of surrendering to God, all those things we ought to count as rubbish.  May we, in the words of St. Paul “continue our pursuit” and “strain forward” not away from God, but towards Him.  To race into his arms as he races towards us, to surrender to that deeper intimacy with God that we all yearn for, to put an end to sin and make a new beginning of goodness, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Thursday of the 4th Week of Lent 2016 - Five Witnesses

There is a wonderful movie out in the movie theaters right now called “Risen”. The movie centers on a Roman military official who witnessed the execution of Jesus on Good Friday.  When the body of Jesus goes missing on Easter Sunday, the Roman Tribune is ordered by Pontius Pilate to investigate the rumors of Jesus’ resurrection. 

As the military tribune is investigating rumors of Jesus’ resurrection, he also seeks to understand who Jesus was, who is his apostles’ claim him to be: who was this man, whom he saw crucified?

As we grow closer to Holy Week, the scriptures take up the topic of Jesus’ identity: “Who is this man Jesus, whom his followers call, Messiah?”  In the Gospel today, Jesus says, "do you want to know who I am? Here are 5 witnesses who can testify to my real identity."

John the Baptist can testify to my identity, my heavenly father can testify to my identity, my works and deeds can testify to my identity, the scriptures, the old testament, can testify to my identity, and Moses testifies to my identity.

In Jesus’ times, in a court case, to prove something you needed simply two witnesses, well Jesus lists five witnesses all who testify to his identity.  And each of us should be familiar with these five witnesses, so that if anyone ever asked us why we believe Jesus to be the saving son of God, we too could explain our faith, by pointing to these witnesses.

How did John the Baptist testify to Jesus? John the Baptist called Jesus the “Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” John said, “I must decrease so that Jesus may increase”

How did the father testify to Jesus’ identity? Twice, the voice from heaven said, “this is my beloved Son.” Once at Jesus’ baptism and again on the Mount of Transfiguration.

The works of Jesus testify to his identity: the miraculous healings of blind, lame, leprous, paralyzed, possessed, his changing water into wine, walking on water, calming storms, and of course rising from the dead.  Why do we believe in Jesus? Look at his works!

Fourthly, Jesus says the scriptures testify to his identity.  When Jesus spoke the New Testament had not yet been written, so he is speaking about the Old Testament.  Through the course of their lives, many Catholics watch thousands of hours of television, but have never read the Old Testament.  St. Jerome taught: “To be ignorant of Scripture is to be ignorant of Christ.” Each of us do well to read and study the Hebrew Scriptures, because they point to Jesus and testify to Jesus; Jesus is in every book of the Bible, we just have to look for Him.

Finally, Jesus says, Moses testifies: all of Moses’ life testifies to Jesus, the better we know the life and teachings of Moses the better we will know Christ.  Not only did Moses speak of a great prophet who would come after him, but Moses’ life is in a way, fulfilled by Jesus.  After 40 days and 40 nights, Moses from the mountain gave the Old Law; after 40 days and 40 nights in the desert, Jesus climbed the mountain of beatitudes and gave the new law; Moses led the Israelites out of Egyptian slavery through the waters of the Red Sea to the promised land; Jesus leads us out of the slavery of sin through the waters of baptism to the promised land of heaven.

These mighty witnesses help to strengthen our faith this Lent. The better we know these testimonies, the better we will understand Jesus. This Lent Jesus invites us to be purified of our ignorance by the light of truth. May we accept his invitation, to learn of him, that we may more deeply love Him, and lead others to Him for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Tuesday of the 4th Week of Lent 2016 (school mass) - Do you want to be well?

“Do you want to be well?” Jesus addressed that question to the man who had been ill for 38 years, who lay at the pool of Bethesda. What exactly was his illness? Well, St. John doesn’t tell us, but he was certainly counted among the sick, blind, lame, and crippled.  Jesus had known the man had been ill for a long time; it’s quite possible that Jesus had seen him there before he began his public ministry, for we know that Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem every year for the feast of the Passover.  Yet, often in the Gospels, we see Jesus looking very deeply into peoples’ hearts: Jesus seems to know what they are thinking and feeling before they do.

Jesus asks each of us today, “Do you want to be well?”  Well?  What is your illness? What is your sickness?  For many of us, the illness, the sickness, the blindness, isn’t so much physical, but spiritual.  A mind, a heart diseased with selfishness, afflicted with impatience, blind to the needs of others, deaf to the cries of the poor, a will crippled and unable to do the good we so desire to do.

For some of us, we might not even know how sick we are, but Jesus does.  He knows our illness, the cause of our illness, he knows the open wounds in our hearts which we fail to recognize.  “Do you want to be well of those too?”

Each of us do well today to acknowledge our spiritual ills to Jesus: name them, be honest about them, own up to them.  We also do well to say to Jesus: heal me of the illnesses I don’t even know about, that’s I’m not aware of, that I have a hard time admitting. 

Jesus is the medicus animae—the healer of souls, and he is able to heal us because he is God, and he wants to see us whole and healthy. 

Most of all, he wants to heal us from that part of us that says, “I don’t need him. I can do it on my own.” That part of us that says, I don’t need to pray, I don’t need to go to mass, I don’t need to go to church, I don’t need to study the Catholic faith, I don’t need to practice fasting, I don’t need to keep myself pure, I don’t need to perform works of charity. That’s the sickest part of us that needs to be healed the most. 

“Do you want to be well?” 

Jesus heals that sickest part of us primarily in the sacrament of reconciliation.  Even though many of us have gone to reconciliation already this Lent, we may need to go again if we’ve fallen into serious sin.  In the Eucharist, Jesus strengthens the part of us that is recovering from being seriously ill, the part of our souls traumatized by sinful behavior. 

As Jesus comes to us in the Eucharist today, let us open our minds, hearts, bodies, and souls to his healing, his strengthening, that we may be devoted to the work of Gospel for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Monday of the 4th Week of Lent 2016 - Reacting to Jesus

Leading up to Holy Week, our Gospel readings for daily Mass are taken solely from the Gospel of John.

We know that each of the Gospel writers wrote to different audiences and for different purposes.  Mark wrote to the Romans: this is why his Gospel is succinct, to the point, focusing on the power of Jesus, his victory over evil.  Matthew wrote to his fellow Jews—seeking to show them how Jesus was the fulfillment of the prophecies of the Old Testament—he was the New Moses, the New David, the new prophet Elisha, the culmination of God’s work in salvation history detailed throughout the Hebrew Scriptures.  Luke, the well-educated Gentile physician, sought to give a historical, chronological account of Jesus’ ministry, giving every reader an opportunity to understand and believe the good news about Jesus Christ.

St. John’s Gospel is address primarily to those who have already come to believe—it is written by a believer to believers.  It is highly mystical, highly theological, written for those who seek to go deeper, to Jesus’ identity, his heart—John seeks to help us understand the spiritual import of the Gospel.

John also carefully records people’s reaction to Jesus.  After the healing of the nobleman’s son we hear how the whole household began to believe in him.  After his teaching on the Bread of Life in chapter 6, we hear how many people who were initially following him turned away from him, finding the teaching too hard.

It is fitting that we read from John during the latter half of Lent.  For if we consider Lent like a desert retreat—the first few days of a retreat we are still settling, we start to put away our worldly distractions; but the second half is when the real work begins—attention to the interior life—the conversion from sensuality and pride to dedication to Christ.

As we read about how people reacted to Jesus’ words and deeds in John, we do well to reflect on how we are reacting to Jesus’ call to conversion, his call to put aside worldly things in order to cherish heavenly things. How have you reacted to that call? Do you perhaps need to recommit and deepen your Lenten penances? In John’s Gospel some respond to Jesus in faith and some respond to Jesus with hard-hearts? How are you responding?

Having put aside earthly matters in the first half of Lent, we are now to be freer in this second half of Lent to encounter God more profoundly and more deeply in the desert silence—in the innermost sanctuary of our souls.

Continuing to make pilgrimage through the Lenten desert, may the Holy Spirit help us to respond to Jesus’s call to conversion with faith in preparation for the eternal Easter for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: 4th Sunday of Lent 2016 - Joy & Dying to self

During my seminary formation, I was able to study in Rome, Italy for about six months.  I attended classes at the wonderful Dominican School, the Angelicum; every day would take us passed the Trevi Fountain and the famous Spanish steps, down the same streets that saints had walked.

In addition to our academic work, my seminary formation involved some charitable apostolic work.  I had the blessing of working alongside the Missionary Sisters of Charity at a homeless shelter, in their care for the homeless men and women of Rome.  So, every Friday morning, a few of us seminarians would walk past the Coliseum to the Sister’s homeless shelter: we would serve breakfast to homeless men, clean up after breakfast, then help the sisters do the laundry.

Now Blessed Mother Theresa didn’t believe in modern conveniences, so the clothing and the soiled sheets and towels were washed by hand on old fashioned scrub boards.  Mother Theresa wanted the sisters to learn how to do small tasks with great love—which included doing laundry with the love of Christ in your heart.  Trying to teach me that same lesson, one of the sisters had me scrub the baseboards of the homeless shelter with a toothbrush.  While we did our work: scrubbing sheets, cleaning rooms, we would often pray the rosary.

On the Friday before holy week, a good joy-filled seminarian, who is now a priest of the diocese of Erie, asked one of the sisters enthusiastically, “sister, are you ready for Easter?”  In a very serious tone, yet without losing the spark of joy in her own eyes, she said, “No, I still have much dying to do.”

Here was a woman who never took vacations.  She owned nothing, not even her religious habit was really hers. She didn’t have a bank account, she certainly didn’t have an iphone—she spent her days washing soiled sheets; after waking up before sunrise, attending Mass and spending an hour in Eucharistic adoration, she would bath the grime of the streets of Rome off of poor homeless men.  Here was a woman, that if you gave her a gift of a chocolate bar, she would give it away to the poor in order to bring a little bit of joy into another person’s life.  Who knows the special penances that she had undertaken for Lent, but you can be sure it was more than not eating potato chips or drinking starbucks coffee! 

 “Sister, are you ready for easter?” “No, I still have much dying to do.”

On this Laetare Sunday we are a bit like both the seminarian and the sister from my story.  We are excited about Easter. We exchange, just for today, the penitential purple vestments for the slightly more joyful rose colored vestments.  The hymns are a bit more joyful, to lift our spirits. We are reminded that all of our Lenten penances—the prayer, the fasting, the almsgiving--are preparing us for Easter joy.

Yet, we also realize, like the dear sister from my story, that we all still have much dying to do. During the season of Lent we are to die to our sinful attachments, we fast, even from good enjoyable things, to die, in a sense, to earthly pleasures, to show that our greatest joy in this life is not from food and entertainment, but in God.

We are just over the half-way point in Lent, and we all have much dying to do.  During Lent, we consider how Jesus fasted and prayed.  He showed us that “man does not live on bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” So we fast. We have to die to our belief that our true happiness can be found in earthly bread—in earthly goods.

During Lent, we consider how Jesus humbled himself to do the will of the father.  He embraced the cross, he embraced suffering and pain for the salvation of the world.  We need to die to our selfishness by engaging in self-sacrifice and service.

And during Lent, we consider Jesus praying in the desert, and praying in the garden of gethsemane, and praying on the cross. We need to die to our willfulness, our need to control, our self-reliance, and learn to trust in God through frequent Lenten prayer.

Blessed Mother Theresa of Calcutta, who was animated by the Spirit of Joy, was once asked by the sisters, “Mother, tell us how to get Joy; how does Joy come into our life.”  Well, she said, “you look at the word itself:  J-O-Y.  And you let each of those letters stand for a word, in that order: J stands for Jesus, O stands for others, and Y for yourself; if those are the priorities in your life, first Jesus, secondly other people, and only last, yourself, you are going to have Joy.” 

If you want real joy, structure every day, every week, based on those priorities: first Jesus, second, others, lastly, yourself.  Having those priorities is absolutely essential for cultivating the Joy you so desire.  "Joy is a net of love by which you can catch souls," Mother Theresa said. Our Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving help us to do just that.

This week, as you may have seen in the news, 4 Missionary Sisters of Charity, the order founded by Mother Theresa, were murdered by Muslim terrorists in Yemen.  These sisters were dedicated to serving the elderly and decrepit, men and women who themselves were not Christian.  These women were killed not just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, they were murdered intentionally because of their faith. 

The gruesome murder of four of the most beautiful souls on the planet is a cause for sadness. Yet, in a way there is cause for rejoicing. These brave and selfless Missionaries of Charity refused to leave Yemen despite threats on their lives in order to serve those whom the rest of the world has thrown away.  They have done what each of us aspires to, to serve Christ with our whole lives.  If each of us had that sort of courage and love, this world would be a different place. 

There is joy when we see fellow Christians filled with so much courage and love that they serve Christ even when it costs them their lives.  This is the joy of dying for Christ.  And that is the dying each of us are called to.

To die to self is to set aside our selfish motivations in order to focus instead on loving God with everything we’ve got and valuing others as highly as we value ourselves. Jesus came to heal our blindnesses which sees ourselves as more important than others.  Jesus came to heal our hard-heartedness which fails to forgive. He came to heal our lives, that we might live, no longer for ourselves, but for God.

Our small self-denials of Lent are really meant to be a source of healing for our willful selfish souls that they may seek God’s will first, above all else.

May we each persevere in our Lenten penances that we can experience the joy of Christian love for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Friday of the 3rd Week of Lent 2016 - With all your heart

Jesus forgives us

On Ash Wednesday, we heard God’s powerful invitation through the prophet Joel to all of us: “return to me, with all your heart.”  The heart, in biblical language, symbolizes the center of the person, the whole person.  During Lent, we are invited by God to return to Him fully, wholly, entirely.

Return from where? From our sins of course, from our wandering, from our cavorting with empty promises, with false Gods. 

From the prophet Hosea, we hear how Israel, who was called to cling to God with their whole heart, had been unfaithful, like an adulteress.  Israel was to be God’s bride, clinging to God her husband, yet, she had taken up with the false gods of the surrounding Canaanite culture.

So God said, “I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart.” In order to free Israel from her adulterous relationship, God would bring her into the desert.  Why the desert? In the desert, we are freed from our distractions and sinful attachments.  There are no tv’s, no iphones, no gossiping, no casinos, no bars out in the desert.  In the desert, we are nursed back to spiritual health by encountering God’s mercy.

This is why we speak of the Lenten desert. Lent is to be that time where we strip away those sinful and spiritually unhealthy behaviors, and encounter God’s mercy, so that we can be free to love Him again, with our whole heart.

For again, on Ash Wednesday, he didn’t just say “return to me”, but “return to me, with your whole heart.” In the Gospel, Jesus repeats that language, and takes it even further: “love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your understanding, with all your strength.”

To love God with everything, to love God with total self-abandonment, to love God utterly, completely, wholeheartedly: this is the point of Lent.  All of our Lenten penances, all of our prayer 

has the aim of freeing us from all that keeps us from the pure love of God.

So God has lead us out into the desert, what do you still have to let go of this Lent? What do you still have to repent of? What do you still have to commit to?

Jesus’ invitation is powerful and life-changing.  He says we shouldn’t be satisfied with Him simply being a part of our life, he wants to be our entire life, he wants to be the all-consuming center—the reason we get out of bed in the morning.

Let him into your mind: let him free you from thoughts of jealousy, envy, lust, unworthiness, pride, vengeance. Allow him to strengthen you to love as he does, to heal the sick, visit the lonely, counsel the doubtful, rebuke the sinner, to pray to God with an undivided heart. Allow him to heal you of your resentments, your past wounds, your grief, your guilt over past sins, your attachments to earthly pleasures for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Thursday of the 3rd Week of Lent 2016 - What is holiness?

Giovanni Battista Gaulli, The Triumph of the Name of Jesus

I remember a number of years ago, when I was still in seminary, I was attending a  friend’s birthday party one summer, sitting outside on a picnic bench with some people with whom I had gone to high school.  They were somewhat intrigued that I was studying to be a priest.  They professed that they didn’t believe in God and so thought the Church to be a pretty big waste of time.  So they asked me why I wanted to be a priest.  I said because God wants his people to be holy, and I want to help.  They looked at me strangely, like they didn’t know what I was talking about (and likely they didn’t).

Being in a somewhat philosophical mood, I asked them, “do you know what I mean by that word? what I mean by ‘holiness’.”  And they had no idea.  They thought the word gibberish.  The word, the concept, the idea of holiness had been banished from their speech.  I asked them what the word “reverence” meant, they responded, “what, is that like respecting trees?”

Our culture is in pretty bad shape; there are even baptized Catholic who have no idea that they are supposed to be seeking to live a holy life.  How did this happen?

Well, it’s not the first time in history.  Look at what Jeremiah said in the first reading today: "Faithfulness has disappeared; the word itself is banished from their speech." —Jeremiah 7:28

The people of Jeremiah's time were so disobedient and rebellious that they were not only unfaithful but also banished the whole idea of faithfulness and even the word "faithfulness."

Likely, one is able to measure how far a culture is from godliness by its understanding of the words like Faithfulness, holiness, piety, virtue, reverence. If you don’t think these words are important, then you don’t understand them, and you don’t understand the Christian faith.

So, if we know the problem—ignorance of God and his ways, and if we know the cause of the problem—disobedience, rebelliousness, unfaithfulness, then what is the remedy? What can we do to help people return to God? It is for you and for me to become as holy as we can. Doesn’t sound too hard, right?

20^th century Saint Josemaria Escriva said: “To be holy isn’t easy, but it isn’t difficult either.  To be holy is to be a good Christian, to resemble Christ.  The more closely a person resembles Christ, the more he belongs to Christ, the holier he is.” 

This Lent we are called to show the world what holiness is by drawing near to Christ, by stripping away all those behaviors and attitudes that are unbecoming of a Christian and dedicate ourselves to works of mercy and charity.  Everything that is keeping us from becoming as holy as we should, strip away. Let our life in Christ be a witness before men that they may see our good works, our holiness, that they may seek Him, the source of our holiness and joy, Jesus Christ, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Tuesday of the 3rd Week of Lent 2016 - Forgive seventy-seven times

The somber days of Lent provide us with an opportunity to do some serious soul-searching: examination of our conscience, reflection on our vices and virtues and habits and attitudes, with the hopes of identifying any obstacles in our hearts which keep us from imitating Our Lord and growing in holiness.

I always encourage folks to give up television, movies, video games, and excessive use of the internet during Lent, these things which often occupy a lot more of our time than we think.  And once they’re gone, we have a little bit more time to think about our lives, our relationships.  We strip away some of those external distractions, and when we do that, our interior lives can begin to grow.

I think many people are resistant to give up these external distractions, because their interior lives are not all that pleasant.  Many of us can carry around some serious interior burdens in the form of resentment and bitterness over past hurts—old wounds which have gone unhealed for many years.

So Lent provides an opportunity to bring those wounds to the healer—to Jesus, the medicus vitae—the doctor of life.

In the Gospel today, Jesus teaches the most important remedy for the healing of our wounded souls and wounded relationships: forgiveness.  Through Jesus’ passion and death, God has forgiven us—our wounded relationship with God is healed.  And we are called to practice that same forgiveness towards others.  Just as there is not a single sin God will not forgive, so too there isn’t a single sin that we are not called to forgive.

Jesus says to forgive not just seven times, but seven times seven.

In the Hebrew tradition the number seven is a sacred number and refers to the limitless holiness of God.  When Jesus commands his disciples to forgive “seventy times seven” times, it is to say that his disciples are to have no limit in their own forgiveness. 

It is difficult to forgive those who betray us—who offend, who harm us with their words and actions.  To forgive them sometimes feels like we are giving them a free pass.  Forgiving once, is sometimes hard enough, when we are hurt, there is that part of us that says, “I don’t want to talk to them, I don’t want to see them, I don’t want to be near them, I don’t even want to think about them.”  A Christian must never say, “I will never forgive you.” 

For Christ came to heal the wounds of sin and division—our division from God, and the division we continue to create between ourselves. 

So we need to be constantly about the work of forgiveness.  If upon self-examination you detect any anger or any hurt, now is the time to let it go.  And if the Holy Spirit is urging you to seek the forgiveness of a family member or neighbor you may have offended, go, do your best to be reconciled, to make peace, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.