Homily: Monday - 31st Week in OT - Humbly regard others as more important

Having concluded our weekday reading of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, we’ll read this week, Paul’s short four chapter letter to the Philippians.

Philippi, in northeastern Greece, was a city of some importance.  It was a city in the Roman province of Macedonia. It’s population of about 15,000 people was comprised of five groups: a small group of wealthy Roman elite, the farmers, the merchant class, the poor, and slaves. Most of these people were pagans, and the Christians numbered around 2 or 3 hundred, there was also a small group of Jews.
Reading through this letter, one can tell that Paul has a special place in his heart for the Philippians.  And this makes sense, because according to the book of Acts, Paul established the Church at Philippi.

This letter is neither a treatise on systematic theology, like Romans, nor is it a practical, moral letter answering many specific questions and local problems, like I Corinthians.  It is a pastoral, personal letter in which Paul expresses his love for the Philippians, his confidence in their progress in holiness, and his joy that the Gospel is spreading throughout the world.  And he writes all this, while in prison in Rome where he was awaiting death.

Because of the Holy Day and feasts this week, we won’t get to hear the most famous passage of Philippi, the great Christological hymn in chapter 2, so we’d do well, to read it on our own.

In today’s passage Paul exhorts the Christians, “complete my joy by being of the same mind, with the same love, united in heart, thinking one thing.”  Do not just look after your own interests, but also for others.

Ironically, in Protestant circles, today, October 31 is known as Reformation Day. A day to which we can trace the many divisions which now afflict the Christian Church. These divisions would no doubt break Paul’s heart, who labored so intensely for church unity. Throughout his letters to the Romans, Galatians, and Ephesians, Paul stresses doctrinal unity as essential, but here, to the Philippians he stresses not just a unity of ideas, but a unity of spirit—a brotherhood among Christians, a deep fraternal love, in which we “do nothing out of selfishness”.

“Humbly regard others as more important than yourselves” he says. Our homes and hearts are to be open to the needs of others.

In this great year of Mercy, Pope Francis has challenged us to do the same; to look to the needs of others, to not be so wrapped up in our own problems, our own pursuits, our own habits, but to break out of that comfort zone, in order to truly see those in need all around us.

Through mercy, through service we come to experience the depths of love in the heart of Christ. The life of a vibrant church is to be embodied in concrete acts of charity, friendship, forgiveness, reconciliation, visiting the sick, offering hospitality, lending a hand to disabled neighbors, doing the work no one else wants to do.

May we be dedicated to this form of unity. For Jesus came not to be served, but to serve. And so must we...for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: 31st Sunday in OT 2016 - "To seek out and to save"

A priest I know tells the story of a young man who was dying of cancer—who was just 24 years old.  In the final stages of his illness, the priest went to see the young man, and the young man said: “Father, you once told us something that has made it easier for me to accept my death.  You said: ‘There are only two potential tragedies in life, and dying young isn’t one of them.  You said the first tragedy is If you go through life and don’t know that you are loved, and the second is if you go through life and you don’t tell those whom you love that you love them. When the doctors told me that my cancer was terminal, my family has stood by my side, I realized how much I’ve been loved, and I’ve been given this time to tell my family and others how much they mean to me.  People ask me: ‘What’s it like being 24 years old and dying?’  I tell them, ‘It’s not so bad.  It beats being 50 years old and living without values and faith and knowledge that I’m loved by God and my family.”

Faith prepares us for death.  Faith helps us to love and to know we are loved.

I thought of this story for several reasons. For one, it is priesthood Sunday. We thank God for our priests and pray for our priests. Priests who baptize, priests who absolve, priests who celebrate the Eucharist, priests who help hardened sinners return to Christ, priests who help families live the Gospel, priests who help us prepare for the end of our earthly life.  The Catholic Church will need priests until the end of time, to carry out the ordained ministry according to God’s plan.  And each of us has a role to help young men hear God’s call to the priesthood—help them to truly believe that to be a priest is a wonderful vocation and in invaluable one.

This may sound a bit morbid or strange, but as I began to discern my own priestly vocation, one of the aspects of priestly ministry that really spoke to me was the priest’s serenity in the face of death. Priests are called to visit the beds of the dying. The priest is summoned to the beds dying strangers and longtime parishioners, both lukewarm and devout souls; and he is called upon to administer the Church’s final rites, to help the soul prepare to meet God.

Death—which most men fear and spend their lives fleeing from and distracting themselves from, priests, put aside this fear, perhaps even conquer it, to bring peace to others. What a blessed vocation!
Another reason I thought of the story is because today is our annual Bereavement Mass. Joining us today are family members of those who have died in the last year. We grieve for those who have died. Grieve because life is different without them, their absence is felt so deeply. And so it’s important for us to gather together in our grief to pray for each other—to turn to God who is the source of our consolation, and to thank God for the opportunities he gave us to love them.

That love, no doubt continues, even years after their passing as we pray for the departed, remembering them at the altar, lifting their souls to God.

This Wednesday, November 2 is the feast of All Souls—a day set aside in the Church year simply to pray for the repose of our loved ones. Though Tuesday is the feast of All Saints, a Holy Day of Obligation, where all Catholics are obligated to attend Mass, I also urge you to consider attending Mass on Wednesday, to pray for our beloved dead.

One of the most devastating and tragic effects of the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century, was that Protestants stopped praying for the poor souls.  And they really lost something essential to the Christian life. Praying for the dead is part of being Christian. It’s a practice found in Scripture, taught by Sacred Tradition, encouraged in the words and writings of the Saints.

Why do we pray for the dead? It’s an act of mercy! It’s an act of mercy to help those in need. And the souls in purgatory are in need of our prayers. Those who die with even the smallest amount of earthly selfishness, with attachment to the things and ways of the world, are in need of purification before they can enter heaven.

Understandably, many Catholics do not like to pray for our departed loved ones.  We like to imagine our loved ones who did display so much love and affection throughout their lives to have entered immediately into heaven. It can be painful to think of them still awaiting entrance into the heavenly kingdom.  But to be honest, most souls need such purification. The only members of the faithful departed we know with absolute certainty to be in heaven are those definitively declared by the Church to be canonized Saints.  Until a soul is declared a Saint by the church we do not err in praying for their eternal repose.

Many of the saints, St. Padre Pio, St. Catherine of Genoa, had strong devotion to praying for the poor souls.  It is an act of love to pray for our loved ones. So continue to show your love for them by praying for them constantly, offering rosaries and novenas for them, having Masses celebrated for them. Just as we can offer comfort to our loved ones by hold their hands as they lay dying, so too we can bring them comfort and aid through our prayers.

If you haven’t had a Mass celebrated for loved ones recently, go to the parish office this week and schedule a Mass. For, the Mass is the greatest and most powerful prayer we can offer on behalf of those who have died.

Christ's whole life on earth was dedicated to bringing people back into friendship with God, helping them to be free from sin, as he says in the Gospel today: "The Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost."

All of us have been given a share in this mission: to seek and to save what was lost.

By praying for the dead we help souls complete the journey, by sharing our faith with unbelievers we may help souls begin the journey. We thank God this weekend for our priests, and pray that we may always have good faithful priests to assist us on the journey, and pray for and thank God for the gift of our loved ones who have walked with us, laughed with us, cried with us, and embraced us throughout the journey.

May the Lord Jesus, through the Word and Sacrament we celebrate today, make us ever more faithful in the mission for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: 30th Sunday in OT 2016 - The humble shall be exalted

A few months ago, I got the great idea to learn how to play the violin. I grew up playing a little bit of piano and trumpet; I sang in the choir in high school and in seminary, so I’m pretty familiar with reading music. And so I figured, how hard could the violin really be? So I got a hold of a violin, and realized pretty quickly that if I was going to progress in this instrument, I was going to need to take some lessons: I didn’t even know if I was holding the thing correctly.

And I have to admit, those first few violin lessons, were very humbling. I admitted to my violin teacher that I was a bit uncomfortable: you know, a grown adult, a priest, several college degrees, and I could barely get through “Mary Had a Little Lamb” without the violin sounding like I was torturing some poor cat.

Now, several months later, I’ve progressed a little. Father Klasinski may disagree, but it doesn’t quite sound like I’m tormenting small animals in my room when I practice. But, I really have to admit, those first few weeks, were very humbling, and very uncomfortable. The violin didn’t care about my degrees, about the time I spent visiting the sick, or teaching in the classroom. And to sit with this professional violin player was kind of embarrassing. I felt like a little child.

But, I’m so glad I risked a little embarrassment, because now I’m able to enjoy practicing and playing one of my favorite musical instruments.

You may have had a similar experience: learning a new language, a new skill, always involves a little bit of humiliation. But when we willingly undergo that humiliation, that makes all the difference. One wonders if there can be any real growth without humiliation—we have to be willing to become like little children.

Sometimes I think little children are much more courageous than adults. They don’t worry about what people think of them, they just engage. They’ll try new things because they look fun. They play without self-regard. They quickly make new friends—they are able to do things that many adults would be humiliated over doing—but that’s the key to their joy isn’t it…not fearing humiliation.

Not only is this true in making a new friend, learning a new skill, enjoying a new hobby, facing humiliation is also important for new growth in the spiritual life.

Would we honor Saint Francis as a great Saint if he had allowed his fears of what others thought of him to control his life? If he worried about being considered “overly religious”? Or Saint Clare? What if she let social pressures keep her from leaving behind her family wealth to pursue radical holiness. Or St. Paul, what if he had left his fear of unknown lands keep him from his missionary journeys. So many of the great Saints risk humiliation, they risk failure, they risk mockery, in order to pursue true greatness.

I think this fear is why many of our young people do not consider entering the religious life or going to the seminary. What will they think of me if I joined the monastery. But, I think each of us, in the Christian life, have to ask ourselves, do we want to be great in the eyes of the world, or in the eyes of God?

I pray that fear of the unknown, this fear of humiliation, the fear of being considered “overly religious” -- does not keep anyone here from joining the choir or becoming a Eucharistic minister or volunteering your time in charitable service.

In today’s Gospel of the Pharisee and the tax collector, Jesus praises the humility of the tax collector while denouncing the arrogance of the Pharisee. The Pharisee was unwilling to humble himself before God. The Pharisee goes into the Temple, but the words he offers are more of an exercise in self-congratulation than prayer.

Real prayer, the prayer of the tax collector, is like learning that musical instrument, learning that new language, that new skill, it’s about making ourselves vulnerable before God, recognizing that before God, I’m a child, I barely know how to walk, to talk, stand.

Some people say, they don’t like to pray because they really don’t know how to pray. Wonderful. That’s the first step! That’s the right attitude! In the Gospel, Jesus condemns those who just sort of babble, who offer this long list of prayers without having the right disposition of heart.

The Pharisee failed to pray because he maintained this shell of pride around his heart. He thought that prayer was standing up in the temple and talking about how great he was, instead of kneeling like the tax collector and recognizing how great God is.

You can see it in the difference in the postures of the two men. The Pharisee stands proud, arrogant, the tax collector kneels, doesn’t even lift his head to heaven, he beats his breast praying, “O God, be merciful to me a sinner”. Be merciful to me. Have mercy. We say those words at the beginning of every Mass. Lord, have mercy. We begin Mass with those words so that we may have a true posture of prayer throughout the whole Mass.

It’s not easy to admit that we are sinners. It requires to break the shell of our pride. That’s why I love that gesture of beating the breast during the Confiteor and first Eucharistic prayer: it’s like breaking down the barrier I’ve placed between my heart and God’s heart.

As hard as it is, as hard as it is to go Sacramental Confession after a particularly embarrassing sin, humbling ourselves before God is often the beginning of something great. Humility allows God’s power to begin to change us, fill us, and bring us true joy.

Jesus’ ended the parable by teaching, “for whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” The Christian who recognizes his need for God’s mercy, shall receive that mercy; while those who go throughout life convinced of their own self-righteousness, shall be humbled when Christ returns as judge. There can be no spiritual growth without humility, there can be no salvation without recognizing one’s need for a savior.

As Jesus comes to us again today, in word and sacrament, may our posture before him be that of the humble tax collector, and may that posture of humility be the beginning of new spiritual growth, a flowering of new spiritual gifts, a new chapter of service for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Friday - 29th Week in OT 2016 - Humility, Gentleness, and Self-restraint

From prison, Paul pleaded with his Christian brothers and sisters to "live a life worthy" of their calling. 

Paul then describes the type of conduct he is urging: humility, gentleness, patience.

Jesus himself exalts humility in the Gospel.  Paul now urges the same humility that Jesus taught and showed us on the cross.  Humility was an attitude that the pagan world despised, yet it is first among virtues for Christians. The Greek word used by both Paul and Jesus uses for humility, 

tapeinophrosyne , literally means, thinking myself insignificant and lowly, to regard others as more important than ourselves.  To imitate Jesus’ humility, early Christians would wash each other’s feet, as Jesus did at the last supper…have you washed anyone’s feet recently? Have you stooped low to serve?

Paul next urges gentleness or meekness.  Meekness doesn’t mean shy or merely introverted.  Meekness doesn’t mean being a pushover, nor does it mean being overly pushy and overbearing. Scripture describes the truly wise as also truly meek. The meek consider things from God’s perspective before acting and speaking. How can we grow in meekness? By growing in wisdom, studying faithfully the Word of God.

Thirdly, Paul says, be patient. We aren’t to have short-fuses. The scriptural word here literally means, to be “long-tempered” as opposed to short-tempered. The Psalms even describe God as “slow to anger”. We should patiently put up with the faults and idiosyncrasies of others, and practice self-restraint—keeping our impulses and reactions at bay. Likely, the person that you have the hardest time remaining patient with, is the person God is calling you to pray for and to love all the more.

Paul explains the reason for these virtues: humility, gentleness, and patience help us to strive after the unity which should be a hallmark of our relationships and of our Church. 

Think of how many relationship are broken because humility, gentleness, and patience are not practiced among Christians. Since a profound unity exists between Christians through our baptism, we need to live a life worthy of our calling.  We have been invited to witness to the world through our love for one another.  May we live humbly, gently, and with self-restraint today in imitation of our Lord for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Oct 20 2016 - St. Paul of the Cross - The most holy school of the cross

“I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing”. These words of Jesus always move us to examine our hearts. Am I burning with love for God? Am I burning with zeal for the spread of the Gospel? Do I have a burning love for service of my neighbor, for those in need?

Today’s Saint certainly burned with great love and great zeal. St. Paul of the Cross is the founder of the Passionist Congregation. The Passionists are known for wearing on their black religious habits the emblem of the Sacred Heart of Jesus which burns with love for God and for man.

Jesus himself was enflamed with love. Love is what motived the incarnation. Love is what drove him to the outskirts of humanity to embrace the leper, the prostitute, the sinner. Love is what impelled him throughout his Passion. His love is an inextinguishable furnace. When our own hearts had grown cold through sin and selfishness, it was his love that rekindled life in us.

How might our hearts become like Christ’s burning with love for God and our fellow man? St. Paul of the Cross, would no doubt say that we must meditate frequently on the Passion—on the Cross—of Christ. “It is very good and holy,” today’s saint said, “to consider the passion of our Lord and to meditate on it, for by this sacred path we reach union with God. In this most holy school we learn true wisdom…love is a unifying virtue which takes upon itself the torments of its beloved Lord. It is a fire reaching through to the inmost soul.”

Consider again the Sacred Heart of Christ, the Cross is plunged into his heart, like a key which opens a door. Meditating on the cross of Christ can be for us a key which opens up and transforms our hearts and will make them more like his, setting them on fire.

In the Cross we recognize what real love looks like. Love requires service, love requires daily sacrifice, love requires forgetting ourselves in order to give ourselves more fully to others.

In our moments of weakness and failure, it is easy to grow discouraged and to lose hope. That’s why in our sinfulness it is so important to meditate on how much we are loved by God. He didn’t die for the perfect, he died for us. He embraced us in our most unlovable state.

The love Christ showed on the cross is, as the first St. Paul—St. Paul of Tarsus—wrote in our first reading this morning, is a love which surpasses all knowledge, but is a love that fills us with the fullness of God.

May the Passion of Jesus Christ be ever in our hearts. May we meditate often on the cross of the Savior, and encounter “the breadth and length and height and depth” of God’s love for us, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Oct 18 2016 - St. Luke - The Harvest is abundant...

On this feast of Saint Luke we hear his wonderful account of the sending—the mission—of the seventy-two disciples. Did you notice that the mission—the task of spreading the Gospel-- is not just for the twelve apostles. He sends not just his closest twelve, but 72, a number representative of all of his followers.

In our modern day it is sometimes a temptation to think that the mission of spreading the Gospel only belongs to priests and religious. Perhaps, it’s because we had so many priests and religious in years past, that we came to this false conclusion.

But Saint Luke was never ordained, he wasn’t a bishop, he wasn’t one of the twelve apostles. Saint Luke was a doctor who gave up his medical practice because he believed God had more important work for him to do—that it was more important to care for people’s broken souls than to care for their broken bodies.

St. Luke first encountered the Gospel through the preaching of St. Paul, and was so moved and inspired by Paul, that he left his medical practice and began to accompany Paul in his preaching mission. Little did Luke know, that God would have a unique work for him, he would become a biblical author—inspired by God he would write a two-volume work which we know today as Luke’s Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles.

When we abandon ourselves to God, abandon ourselves to the mission, we find the Holy Spirit’s inspiration to do things we never imagined—we find the courage to leave our comfortable life, and dedicate ourselves to the most important task—the urgent and ever-necessary task of laboring to save souls. “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few”—how will you engage in this most important labor today?

For if not us? Who?

As we pray that the Master will send more laborers into the harvest, let us recognize what that means: that each of us will trust the Lord enough to engage in the labor he has in mind for us, that like Saint Luke, we will trust God enough, be so moved by the urgency of the mission, that we will have the courage to abandon the comfortable, to dedicate our efforts today and all days first and foremost for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Oct 17 2016 - St. Ignatius of Antioch - God's wheat ground by the teeth of beasts

St. Ignatius of Antioch became Christian at the feet of the Apostle St. John and was probably the greatest bishop of the 2nd generation of Christians. The letters Bishop Ignatius wrote to the early churches were often read alongside the Scripture readings. For the early church considered his words so inspiring, his witness so powerful.

Ignatius was the third bishop of Antioch. He was deeply loved by the Christian faithful and made it his special care to defend "orthodoxy" (right teaching) and "orthopraxy" (right practice) among the early Christians. Along with all of the early fathers of the Christian Church, he took seriously the charge from the Apostle Paul to Timothy to "guard the deposit of faith". (2 Tim. 1:4) Right conduct depends on right belief—this is why the devil is so bent on corrupting our faith by sending false teachers who spread error.

For teaching the saving truth of the Gospel, Bishop Ignatius was arrested and sentenced to death in Rome. While he was being brought to Rome in chains, he composed a letter to the Romans, which is always read on today’s feast during the Office of Readings.

“I am writing to all the churches to let it be known that I will gladly die for God…Let me be food for the wild beasts, for they are my way to God. I am God’s wheat and shall be ground by their teeth so that I may become Christ’s pure bread.”

He died a Martyrs death in Rome, devoured by two lions in one of the cruel demonstrations of Roman excess and animosity toward the true faith. But he believed that being torn apart by lions in the coliseum was a victory for Christ.

Just as Christ offered his body and blood on the cross and in the Eucharist, Ignatius prayed to become like the Master. He saw that to suffer like Christ, to become like Christ particularly in the Passion.

“Come fire and cross, gashes and rending, breaking of bones and mangling of limbs, the shattering in pieces of my whole body; come all the wicked torments of the Devil upon me, if I may but attain unto Jesus Christ.”

The courage of the martyrs teaches us not to fear putting to death worldly pleasures in order to attain Christian perfection.

“Do not have Jesus Christ on your lips, and the world in your hearts” he teaches us. May the Holy Martyrdom of St. Ignatius of Antioch help us be free from all sin and error and desire nothing more than to witness to Christ with our lives for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: 29th Sunday in OT 2016 - Perseverance in Spiritual Matters

About 500 years ago, America was just being explored by men like Ponce de Leon and Cortes, Michelangelo was completing the Sistine Chapel, Machiavelli was writing The Prince; it was a time of political, social, religious, and scientific upheaval in Europe. 

There was a 17-year-old girl named Theresa who had felt God’s call to enter the Carmelite monastery in Avila, Spain. She was a physically beautiful girl, talented, outgoing, affectionate, wise, intelligent, and much in tune with her spiritual life.

About six years after entering the monastery, though, prayer became very hard for Theresa. She began to make excuses not to practice daily mental prayer, she became lax in her devotions. Her enthusiasm for her religious vocation began to wane and she grew lukewarm for her faith.

One day, Theresa was given a vision, a supernatural vision—a vision which was terrifying, but afterwards she saw it as a great gift. She was given a vision of hell; souls were falling to hell in great abundance, like snowflakes, she said, because of their faithlessness. But then she saw specifically the very place the devil had prepared for her soul if she continued down the path of lukewarmness.  And then God allowed her to experience some of the pain, despair, and torment of that place. She said the hopelessness of that place was impossible to put into words.  Such would be the consequences if continued to allow lukewarmness to develop in her heart.

She saw this vision as a gift because it helped her realize the consequences of faithlessness. She found renewal in her own faith and even worked to reform the entire Carmelite Order.

What is lukewarmness? Lukewarm faith?  It’s neither hot nor cold.  The lukewarm are neither on fire with enthusiasm for the faith, nor necessarily icy cold in their hostility toward the faith. But because of their lukewarmness they begin to slide…they stop praying, they stop going to Mass, they stop believing that God is more important than earthly pleasure.

Lukewarmness is like a slow-working disease.  Even a once enthusiastic soul, like Theresa’s can be brought to lukewarmness.  It can slowly sap the willpower needed to pursue the the spiritual perfection to which the Lord calls us. 

What causes this spiritual disease of lukewarmness?  Well, just as our bodies can become malnourished when we don’t eat our fruits and vegetables, so our souls can become malnourished by not taking time for meditation, spiritual reading, examination of conscience, and fulfilling the duties of your vocation. 

The other cause for lukewarmness is sin.  Breaking the commandments, acts of pride and lust and greed cause the soul which is fervent for God to grow cold.  Failure to fulfill the obligation to participate at Sunday mass and Holy Days is often the first step of a slippery slope that leads to perdition.  Why are some Catholics who attended twelve years of Catholic school now hostile to the teachings of the Church and practice of the faith?  You can bet money that missing Mass played a part.

Just because food tastes good—like butterfinger bars and oreo cookies—doesn’t mean it’s good for the body.  Likewise, Just because certain television shows or websites or gossipy conversations can bring some enjoyment, they can be quite dangerous for the life of the soul, where love for spiritual heavenly  things can be replaced with love for perverse and worldly things.

I bring up this story of St. Theresa being awakened out of her lukewarmness, one because today is the feast day of St. Theresa of Avila, but also, I think the story fits well with our readings.

In the first reading from Exodus we hear how Moses had to persevere in keeping his hands raised during a battle with the Amalekites. As long as Moses kept his hands raised up, Israel was victorious in battle; but when he let his hands down, the Amalekites, Israel’s enemies got the upper hand.

This is a great metaphor for the spiritual life—when we keep our hands raised before God, persevering in prayer, engaging in the works of mercy, victory is won—our souls grow as they are meant to. When we grow lax, lukewarm, and disobedient, our souls diminish.

The battle between Israel and the Amalekites is just one battle in the Bible. Israel had to engage in quite a few battles in order to take possession of the promised land. All those battles remind us that there is a constant battle going on in our own lives—a constant struggle between two forces.  On one hand the forces of peace and goodness and mercy and forgiveness, and on the other hand the forces which seek the ruin of souls--hatred, violence, self-absorption, resentment.  Which forces do we nurture?

In the spiritual life, when we do fall, when we do grow lukewarm, one of the most important and powerful things we can do is to make a good confession. To humbly acknowledge our sin and our need for the Lord’s mercy can truly be a turning point in our own spiritual battles.

Notice, as well, that Moses was only able to keep his hands raised with “a little help from his friends.” Aaron and Hur supported Moses’ hands—they helped him when he began to grow weary. So too, friends, we are not meant to go through the Christian life by ourselves. We need good Christian friends to support us, to encourage us in the faith. As Christians, we aren’t like sports fans who go our separate ways after the game, we are meant to walk with each other, to share our faith with each other and strengthen each other.

Personally, I get together with a group of brother priests on a weekly basis. We share a meal, we pray together, we go for a walk and discuss the challenges of priestly ministry, we discuss books we’ve been reading, lessons from movies we’ve seen, and we encourage each other in our priesthood.

Every Christian needs that. Here at St. Clare we are blessed to have groups of families that encourage each other in the faith, the families in christ jesus groups, and for two years now, we have had the Arise groups. We need each other: to help each other grow in the faith and keep each other from growing lukewarm.

We need God’s help to fight life’s battles, like Moses and the Israelites. We need to persevere in prayer, like the widow in the Gospel, and to remain faithful to God, we need the help of our Christian friends, who keep us accountable to God’s commandments, who encourage us, and challenge us.

Through this celebration of Word and Sacrament, may the Holy Spirit enliven our faith, rekindling the faith of any who have grown lukewarm. May we recommit to daily prayer and meditation, frequent confession of sins, concern for the souls of our fellow Christians, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Friday - 28th Week in OT 2016 - Sealed with the Spirit

Yesterday, we began St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, which we’ll be reading from for the rest of the month.  Just as we begin every prayer evoking the Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Paul begins his letter praising the three Divine persons

.

We heard yesterday his praises of the Father. He praises the Father for His plan of salvation—choosing us from the foundation of the world to be adopted sons and daughters.

He then praised Christ, the Son—how Christ fulfills the Father’s plan through his blood.

Today we heard the next section of Paul’s Trinitarian opening to his letter in which Paul recalls three truths about the Holy Spirit.

First he says, we have been sealed with the Holy Spirit.

Secondly, Paul says we’ve receive the Spirit according to God’s promise.

Thirdly, he calls the Spirit “the first installment of our inheritance.”

In the ancient world, a letter or legal document was marked in wax with the seal of its author; the seal gave evidence of its authenticity. A seal was also used to indicate ownership: sheep and cattle were branded with their owner’s seal. When soldiers enlisted in the Roman army, they were often sealed by tattooing the name of their commanding general on their hand or forearm.

Several place in Scripture speak of God placing seals on people to indicate that they belong to him and are under his protection. In baptism and confirmation, Christians are sealed with the Holy Spirit—we are marked as belonging to God, being under his protection, and is proof that we are his sons and daughters, and members of God’s army.

It’s kind of ironic that a seal, which is something visible, is used to describe the mark the holy Spirit leaves on us—for the Spirit is invisible. So the proof that we are sealed needs to be seen in the way we live—in the way the sacramental grace is appropriated into our lives by our constant turning away from sin, through prayer, and charity, and manifesting the charisms and fruits of the Spirit.

That St. Paul calls our experience of the Holy Spirit “the first installment of our inheritance” means that the joy and the peace the Spirit gives us is but a foretaste of what the faithful shall enjoy in heaven.

But in order to come to that eternal reward, we must continue to cooperate with the Spirit, to be faithful to God by making use of the gifts he gives us, by working always for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Thursday - 28th Week in OT 2016 - Chosen by God

For the rest of the month, we’ll be making our way through the St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. Ephesians is the most eloquent of the letters attributed to St. Paul and contains rich theological passages. In a way, Ephesians is to the epistles what John is to the Gospels: the most mystical, profound, and universal of them all.

Paul probably wrote Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon from prison in Rome around 60 or 62 AD. Ephesians seems to be addressed, not simply to the Christians in the city of Ephesus, but to all the Christians in that region. It’s a sort of encyclical, a letter meant to be circulated to the churches in the region of Asia minor.

Paul spent about three years in Ephesus, longer than anywhere else after beginning his missionary work. The investment of time in Ephesus was strategic: it was the fourth largest city in the Roman Empire, numbering about two hundred thousand people, it was a center of commerce, the capital of Asia minor, and was famous for its large and beautiful temple to the Goddess Artemis, which was considered one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Besides worshiping Artemis, the Ephesians had temples to Caesar and an assortment to other deities.

In this letter, Paul is going to argue that Christ is bigger than all these false gods. Christ is the main focus of the letter: who Christ is, what he has done for humanity, how he calls his followers to unity, how Christ’s followers become beloved children of God, and therefore must live holy and righteous lives, how the members of the Church form the body of Christ, the Church, of which Christ is the head.

Again, Ephesians is a beautiful, rich letter, that you would do well to read in one setting sometime in the next few days, in order to get a sense of the whole letter, and what Paul was trying to accomplish in writing it.

We heard today the opening of the letter, Paul greets the Ephesians in a greeting which we continue to use 2000 years later in our celebration of mass: grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Paul then offers fervent praise to God for his generosity toward those redeemed by the blood of Christ.

He reminds the church, you have been chosen by God. You and I brothers and sisters have been chosen, destined, by God himself, to live a holy life. A people who do not give in to the profane ways of acting and thinking from the surrounding culture. The way we act, the way we speak, the way we treat other people is to be different. Although, each of us have our own shortcomings, we have been chosen to make Christ known by the way we live: in our joyous singing, in our lifting up our hands in praise of God, by our charity towards others, through our sharing with others the good news of God’s kindness and love, in our quiet meditation, and humble prayer on bended-knee.

Reflect deeply on what it means to be chosen by God, and cooperate with God’s grace to become worthy of that great destiny, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Oct 11 2016 - Pope Saint John XXIII - Aggiornamento

Pope Saint John XXIII was canonized, along with Pope Saint John Paul II on Divine Mercy Sunday in 2014. Since October 11 fell on a Saturday that year and on a Sunday last year, this is the first time many of us have the opportunity to celebrate the feast of this great 20th century pope.

He was called “good Pope John” because he was beloved by the Italian people; he was dearly affectionate and had a good sense of humor.  The phrase “Santo Subito” – “sainthood now” was chanted at his funeral. Pope Francis referred to Pope John XXIII as a “model of sanctity.”  He is a model of holiness not just for the bishops and Popes of the Church, but for all of us.

Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, was the first born son of poor, sharecroppers in the small Italian village of Sotto il Monte near Borgamo in northern Italy. Following his ordination in 1904, he served in increasingly challenging ecclesiastical assignments. He studied canon law, he served as a diplomat in the second World War, and helped save an estimated twenty-four thousand Jews.

Though, many of the Cardinals thought John was going to be more of a “caretaker Pope”—Pope John helped resolve the Cuban Missile Crisis, and shocked the church and the world when he called for a Second Vatican Council not so much for the purpose of condemning the errors of the day, but for the purpose of Aggiornamento…letting in some fresh air to the life of the Church. Pope John XXIII set a tone for the Council when he said, “The Church has always opposed… errors. Nowadays, however, the Spouse of Christ prefers to make use of the medicine of mercy rather than that of severity.” No doubt, Pope John was an influence on our current Pontiff, Pope Francis.

Pope John promoted dialogue with the Orthodox as well as with Protestants; he was the first Pope to meet the Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury. He also encouraged positive relations with Muslims, Jews, and men of good will around the world.

Pope John also set an example for all Christians in performing the works of mercy—he, like John Paul, Benedict, and now Francis, would leave the walls of the Vatican in order to visit the imprisoned and the sick.

In his last encyclical, one of his most famous, called Pacem in Terris, he urged all people to think not just of themselves, but work for the common good, paying great attention to the less fortunate members of society, that as members of the universal family of mankind, we need to work together to attain our flourishment.

For those of you who might be a little disheartened by the current state of politics, I encourage you to read that encyclical, to let some fresh air into your mind and soul.
Strengthened by the example of his holy life, taught by his words of preaching, may we aspire to work together for the spiritual flourishing of all mankind, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Monday - 28th Week in OT 2016 - "Greatest single cause of atheism..."

Oftentimes, people who don’t believe in God or in Christ claim that they would be converted if God just gave them a sign. Similarly, in the Gospel today, Jesus claims that the people were seeking a sign. In Matthew’s Gospel, the Pharisees confront Jesus, “Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you.”

Now, at this point in the Gospel, Jesus has offered countless healings, exorcisms, and other miracles to show to anyone with the inclination to believe that he in fact was God. Jesus calls them a “wicked generation for seeking a sign”—likely because they weren’t really seeking the truth about Jesus, they were more interested in seeking to validate their own narrow view.

Many modern atheists fall into this same trap: they became so focused on validating their atheism, they miss the truth when it is clearly presented to them.

The philosopher Blaise Pascal said: “There is enough light for those who desire to see, and enough obscurity for those who have a contrary disposition...In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don't."

In other words, proof for the existence of God is all around us, if you are looking for it. We can observe the beauty in creation, the harmony, the intelligence behind creation’s design. We can look to the human soul and observe our hunger and thirst for truth, justice, love and reason that those desires were placed in the heart by God.

But Pascal was also saying that the Atheist can also point to the darkness, the violence, the greed, the chaos and reason that God does not exist.

Perhaps, the job of the Christian is to bombard the unbelievers with light—to show them the face of God through our patience, and kindness, and charity, and faith. If their eyes and hearts have become so accustomed to darkness, we must help them to become accustomed to the light.

St. John Paul offered some very challenging words, "The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians, who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyles. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.”

Some challenging words to the members of Christ’s body, that unbelief in the world isn’t because people don’t find Christianity rational, but that they don’t see Christians giving witness to Christ by the way they treat others. 

So our call today, like every day is to seek to embody the teachings and Spirit of our Master: to allow him to convert souls through us, to bring souls to the light through our lives of charity and mercy for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: 28th Sunday in OT 2016 - Father Damien and the lepers

You may remember, a few years ago, Pope Benedict canonized Father Damien of Molokai. Father Damien was a priest from Belgium who went to work with the lepers on the Hawaiian island of Molokai.  He spent sixteen years caring for the lepers’ physical, spiritual, and emotional needs at the leper colony

Leprosy was considered so dreadful, people were so afraid of lepers, that they were outcast, sent to live estranged from the rest of society. This heroic priest, Father Damien, went to minister to them. He was immersed into their lives, he embraced them, anointed them, baptized them, he sat with them when they were dying, he really became their pastor and shepherd.

Molokai was not a pretty place—the rotting flesh of the lepers gave off a smell like that of an open grave. Father Damien was criticized for his work—they called him careless. Father Damien also had no priestly assistant and no other priest to hear his confession. Once he rowed out to a passing ship which had another priest on board. He asked the priest to come down to hear his confession, and when this request was denied, Father Damien shouted up his confession, where anyone could hear.

Father Damien built churches and houses for the lepers. He sought funds from both Catholics and Protestants, distributed food and clothing to all. He dressed the lepers’ wounds, tried out new treatments, and built orphanages for the boys and girls. When people died, Father Damien not only offered the funeral rites, but often built their coffins himself.

Father was praying his breviary one day, when a leper had brought him a hot pot of tea. The leper tripped, and the scalding water was poured all over Father’s legs and feet, but the priest didn’t flinch. It was then, too, that he realized he had contracted the disease. From that day, when he would preach, he would say, “my fellow lepers”…

And yet, when he himself contracted the disease, he did not flee into misery and shame.  He became a suffering servant, “a leper with lepers”.  And during the last four years of his life he continued to build hospitals and ministered to his fellow lepers.

We heard in the Gospel, one of the many stories of Jesus healing the lepers of his day. St. Damien patterned his life after Jesus, in a way, because Jesus did not hesitate to reach out to those society considered “unclean”.

In a sense, Jesus amidst the lepers shows us something quite powerful about God’s love for us, and helps us to understand the purpose of the incarnation. God in his love for humanity, took on the flesh, dwelt among us, we who had become unclean due to sin.  God the Son, immersed himself in sinful humanity and embraced us—in our waywardness, in our corruption, our tendencies to selfishness and lust, and coldness toward one another.

Think about that. God himself, who created us to be full of life and love, did not abandon us when we contracted the disease of sin, the leprosy which causes parts of our souls to become rotting. He lived among us, forgiving us, teaching us how to be human again. God is not distant, but has placed himself smack-dab in the middle of the messiness of our lives.

We do well to remember that whenever we feel like lepers, estranged, lonely, lost, outcast. God is not only present in the beautiful, warm, tender moments.  God is able to be present when life becomes ugly, diseased, contaminated. We have a God who enters in, embraces us in our leprosy.

Yes, God is present in the joy of a wedding, but He is also present when a spouse is lost after 60 years of marriage, or when a child dies by a tragic accident or a rare disease. In the funeral services I always like to remind the grieving that even though there is so much grief and sadness when a loved one dies, we can still know God’s peace, because he does come into the dark times of life to bring comfort and mercy and an increase in faith.

I think of our poor brothers and sisters in Haiti. Nearly 1000 people have died in the wake of Hurricane Matthew. And yet, in this natural disaster, God draws close to the afflicted through his Church. Catholic Relief Services because of the charitable contributions of Catholics like us, are able to offer emergency shelter, clean water, food, living supplies for the displaced, funds for the rebuilding of destroyed homes. We aren’t having a special collection or anything, but consider donating a few dollars to Catholic Relief Services by visiting their website.

For as Christ comes to the afflicted, we are often called upon to be his hands, his feet, his mouth speaking words of comfort. As Christ reached out to the outcast, we are to reach out to the lonely. Perhaps, there is a widow on your street who could use a visit, or a home cooked meal. As the seasons get colder, perhaps you might consider becoming a Eucharistic minister, to bring Holy Communion to the homebound this winter.

We all suffer from our own afflictions, and are all busier than ever. But like Father Damien, who even after he contracted leprosy continued to minister. Our faith, the example of the Lord Jesus, impels us into the lives of others. We are not meant to live isolated from the needy, more concerned about fall sports than the lonely, poor and afflicted. Nor must we allow our own afflictions to keep us from serving the needs of our neighbor.

Where did Father Damien get the strength for this heroic ministry? From the same God who comes to us in this Mass, under the humble appearance of bread and wine. He comes to us, poor sinners that we are, to perfect us in charity, to urge us to work always for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Oct 4 2016 - St. Francis of Assisi - Making room for God

There is a little story about Saint Francis, about a conversation he had with a Gardner.  Francis told the gardener never to plant the whole garden with vegetables but to always leave part of the garden for flowers, so that at every season of the year it may produce, “our sisters, the flowers”.  He always wanted there to be beautiful flowers to honor the Blessed Mother Mary and also he wanted people to see these beautiful flowers and be moved to praise God for the beauty of creation.

To some, that area of the garden set aside for flowers would seem like wasted space.  It’s not being used for production and food was scarce as it is.  This is one of the temptations of modern man who is always so busy that he barely makes time for God: no time for prayer, he is at work and busy all day, and considers faith a waste of his time.  Ask many of our families who don’t come to Church and they’ll say, we just don’t have time for that sort of thing. 

And to look at the life of busy modern man, you can definitely detect that something is missing.  He is not in harmony with God or the world.  And when man is not in right relationship with God, his nature simply cannot flourish.

To reflect on the life of Saint Francis of Assisi is to discover a man who, at first, was also ignorant of his saintly calling. As a young man, Francis gained the reputation of squandering his Father’s money, dressing in the latest fashion, drinking in taverns all night. Definitely an example of man who made no time for God. Yet, Francis became one of the greatest saints of Christian history through a radical commitment to Christ’s Gospel. Francis’ nature flourished because he entered into harmony with God.

Francis wanted nothing more than to become like Jesus Christ.  He embraced Jesus’ poverty, he embraced Jesus’ itinerant preaching, he embraced Jesus’ love for God and love for man, and what happened?  He performed miracles like Jesus, he drew men to himself and won souls like Jesus, he even more the marks of the crucifixion in his flesh, the holy stigmata, like Jesus.  His nature flourished because he was in harmony with God and his holiness continues to echo through the ages 800 years after his death.

We pray that our desire may be the same, to desire nothing more than to become like our Savior and Our Lord for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Homily: Monday - 27th Week in OT 2016 - Love of Neighbor

Matthew, Mark, and Luke all report some version of this morning’s Gospel.

In Matthew, it is Jesus who explains to the young man that the greatest commandment is to love your neighbor, and then to illustrate this Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan.  Mark leaves out the parable, but has Jesus quoting directly from the Book of Deuteronomy, “Shema, Israel, Adonai Eluhenu…Hear O, Israel the Lord is God, the Lord alone, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength… You shall love your neighbor as yourself”

Luke’s Gospel has the young man reciting the greatest commandment, and then to just to be sure he asks, “well, who is my neighbor?”  And Jesus offers the parable of the Good Samaritan to explain that the man in need on the side of the street is your neighbor, the one who has fallen victim to unfortunate circumstances, the one who has fallen victim to the crimes of others.

So loving our neighbor means taking responsibility for others, even strangers—not being apathetic, but being quick to respond to their needs.

Notice, how different the action of the Samaritan was from the Priest and the Levite. He was counter-cultural! The Samaritan could have mimicked the apathy of the priest and the Levite and just walked by.  He could have blended in to the apathetic crowd.  But the Samaritan—and therefore, the Christian, are to be counter-cultural in our love for our neighbor.  We aren’t to treat others as the rest of the world treats them, we are to treat others as Christ would treat them.

Yes, the Samaritan had plenty of excuses not to help: he didn’t know the other guy, he was busy, he had places to go, people to see, he had his “personal responsibilities”, he didn’t know how this fallen victim would react, he had his personal finances to worry about.  There is always a reason not to help someone. We must resist the tendency to develop the tunnel-vision of the priest and Levite in the story—the tendency to look past the needs of others.

The Samaritan reaches-out quickly, he doesn’t hesitate to offer assistance.  Spending our own time, our own effort, our own resources is not easy.  But it’s the way of Christ—who spent himself, who poured out himself, that we might have life, when we became estranged from God through sin.


Do this and you will live, Jesus Christ teaches us.  May we put our time, talent, and treasure always at the service of God and neighbor for the glory of God and salvation of souls.