September 9 2024 - St. Peter Claver - If you can't feed 100 people, then just feed 1

 In the age of the explorers and conquistadors, many young men left Europe for the Americas in order to seek out a fortune. Peter Claver, a young Jesuit priest, rather, left his native Spain, to build up treasure in heaven, in Cartegena, a port city in modern day Columbia. The Collect prayer refers to Peter Claver as “a slave of slaves” for he ministered to the African slaves who were brought there to work in the fields and the mines. 

When the slave ships entered the port, Peter Claver would board the ships to care for the sick and malnourished. And when the slaves were herded to the slave-market, Peter, would bring them medicine, food, bread, and other items that would help them survive in this new land.  

With the help of interpreters, he gave the slaves basic instructions in the faith; he assured them of their human dignity and the salvation that awaited them in God's kingdom.  During the 40 years of his ministry in Columbia, it is estimated that Claver baptized more 300,000 slaves.  

Peter Claver remarked more than once how it took everything in him at times to go down into the disgusting conditions of the slave-ships filled with filth and stench.  He reminds us that true loving service isn’t always pretty, neat and clean—we might even experience revulsion at the conditions in which the destitute live.  But loving service means being faithful to the duties of mercy despite our personal feelings.  

On this Memorial we read from Matthew 25, the Lord’s teaching on the final judgment, a reminder that service of those in need is never a waste of time. In each slave, to whom he ministered, Peter Claver ministered to Christ himself. And for this, he is counted among the blessed. In the words of Mother Theresa: "At the end of life we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have received, how much money we have made, how many great things we have done. We will be judged by "I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was naked and you clothed me.

We might not be called to enter into the filth of slave-ships, but we are certainly called to enter into the lives of others to help someone other than ourselves today. Again, in the words of Mother Theresa, “If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one."

May we use the time we have been given today, to serve Christ in those who suffer, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

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That all Christians may be diligent in bringing the truth and goodness of the Gospel into every sphere of society.

For an end to slavery, human trafficking, and all forms of inhumane oppression; and for the protection and respect of all human life.

For those whose lives are marked by suffering, illness, or grief, that they may find hope in the promises of Christ.

For the repose of the souls of our beloved dead, for all of the poor souls in purgatory, and for N., for whom this mass is offered.

Heavenly Father, hear the prayers of your pilgrimage Church, through the intercession of St. Peter Claver and all the saints, grant us what we truly need to remain faithful to your Son in all things. Through Christ Our Lord.

Christ the King 2020 - The King in disguise

 Today the Church celebrates with great joy the Solemnity of Christ the King. It is the last Sunday of the liturgical year and, in many ways, the culmination.  All of the seasons and feasts point to this reality: that Jesus Christ is the King of the Universe, the Lord of all.  All of time, all of history, is heading toward this climax when Christ will be revealed as the universal King of Kings. 

Although this feast wasn’t officially on the Church calendar until 1929, it’s been a doctrine of the Church since the very beginning—Israel referred to God as Heavenly King long before they had an earthly King. In fact, we Americans are a bit like ancient Israel in that way. We do not bend our knee to any earthly king, and yet we resoundingly hail Christ as Our King.

For a little cultivation of mind and soul, a few years ago, I read Shakespeare’s Henry V.  Act IV of Henry V, takes place the night before the great battle of Agincourt, and King Henry does something surprising. He disguises himself as a commoner. The king dressed in peasant garb walks among his soldiers, he calls brothers, and raises their spirits for the upcoming battle.

Sound familiar?  The King of the Universe became one of us.  And it wasn’t just an act; God really became man and sent the Church on a campaign to bring the Gospel to all of the corners of the earth.  

There is another famous story about royalty disguising itself as the commoner, a story I heard as a young boy, the story of the Prince and the Pauper.  The prince and a poor commoner trade places, the prince goes and lives in the streets, begging for food, and the pauper lives in the castle and is treated like royalty.  While he is living in the streets, some treat the prince with kindness, some ignore him, some even spit on him.  At the end of the story, the prince comes back to the castle, sits on his throne and rewards those who cared for him, loved him, helped him, when they did not know he was the prince.

That lesson should sound familiar as well as it sounds a lot like Matthew’s Gospel this weekend!  In Matthew’s 25th chapter, the Lord teaches us that those in need are really him in disguise. For the rest of history he is disguised in ever hungry, naked, thirsty, homeless, imprisoned person we meet. And we will be judged—we will be separated into two camps—when he returns in glory—by our treatment of the least. 

Last Wednesday, on the 11th of November we celebrated the feast of St. Martin of Tours, whose image is depicted in one of our stained glass windows here at St. Ignatius. St. Martin of Tours lived in the 4th century.  He was a soldier, but also a Christian.  And one very cold day, much like today, Martin came across a poor, nearly naked man, lying at a city gate, begging for help.  Martin had no money, so the story goes that he took his red soldier’s cape, and cut it in half, and gave it to the poor man, to keep warm. That’s what is being depicted in the stained glass window. 

Not depicted is what happened shortly after. Martin had a vision of the Christ Child, seated on his throne, wearing half of Martin’s red soldier’s cape.  An angel asked the Lord, why are you wearing that cape, were did you get it from?  And the Lord responded, “My brother Martin gave that to me.”  When we care for the poor, we care for Christ.

St. Mother Theresa of Calcutta said, “at the end of life, we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have received, how much money we have made, how many great things we have done, we will be judged by, ‘I was naked and you clothed me, I was hungry and you fed me.”  But then she broadens the concept, “hungry not only for bread, but hungry for love; naked, not only of clothing, but of human dignity and respect, homeless not only of a room of bricks, but also homeless because of rejection…this is Christ in disguise.”  

The catechism validates Mother Theresa’s words, when it says, “On Judgment Day at the end of the world, Christ will come in glory to achieve the definitive triumph of good over evil…when he comes at the end of time to judge the living and the dead, the glorious Christ will reveal the secret disposition of hearts and will render to each man according to his works and according to his acceptance or refusal of grace.”    

Praised be to God, this parish has a such long history of taking this Gospel quite seriously. And I hope that can continue for a long time. It takes a lot of work and time. But please know that if you, or a group of fellow parishioners, have some idea of how you would like to serve the needs of our neighborhood or the needs of the parish, I will help you develop that. That’s what I’m here for.

Our everyday encounters, as St. Paul says, carries an “eternal weight of glory”—our treatment of the waitress, the cashier, the political rival, the belligerent family member at the thanksgiving dinner table—our decisions, our words, how we treat people, will be recalled on judgment day—when the disguise is taken off, and we will be judged according to the measure of our charity or lack thereof.

For Christ to truly be King of our lives, we must recognize that the King desires our service, especially when he dresses in disguise. Most of us are on our best behavior when we come into church, because we are in the Eucharistic presence of Christ, but that behavior, that generosity, always needs to extend beyond these walls, out in the world, in setting good Christian example by our words and deeds, sharing the good news of salvation with the brokenhearted, and even simply meeting the very common, simple needs physical needs of the stranger, for the Lord comes disguised as the stranger, and demands our respect, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

Legion of Mary Eucharistic Procession 2020 - Worship, Imitation, Evangelization

The Legion of Mary Handbook states that “The Eucharist is the center and source of grace: therefore, it must be the very keystone of the legionary scheme. The most ardent activity will accomplish nothing of value if it forgets for a moment that its main object is to establish the reign of the Eucharist in all hearts."

Let us consider this. That the main objective of the Legion of Mary, says our founder Frank Duff, is to establish the reign of the Eucharist in all hearts. This is the reason we are here today. This is the reason for all those meetings, week after week, year after year, all that coordination of Legionary Activity, all the good works and the prayers: to establish the reign of the Eucharist in all hearts.

It’s why we process today, we take to the streets. Not to fulfill some political agenda. Not to signal our own virtue. Certainly not because there is some earthly reward for doing so. Not even to vent our frustrations with the failures of earthly leaders to bring about peace and justice in our time.

Rather, we process as a witness to the world and maybe even a reminder to our fellow Catholics, that Jesus Christ, the Son of the Virgin Mary, is true God, and that he wishes to establish his Eucharistic reign in the hearts of all peoples, in every place, in every time. His reign is established when we worship him rightly, reverently and devoutly, when we imitate him generously, and when we share our faith, hope, and love of Him with others. 

And these are certainly three dimensions of a Eucharistic Procession: worship, imitation, evangelization. A Eucharistic procession is an act of worship. By it, we seek to honor God and to extend the thanksgiving and glory we give to God at the Eucharistic sacrifice of the Mass out in the world. Our processing is a prayer, an act of worship.

Secondly, A procession is an act of imitation. As we walk through the streets of Cleveland today, we perhaps think of the Lord walking from town to town preaching the Gospel throughout Judaea and Galilee, walking the streets of Jerusalem, carrying his cross in the hot sun, parched and bleeding, on his way to offer the ultimate sacrifice on Calvary. We too imitate our Lady who presented Christ her Son to the world. Over and over we see in sacred statues and images, Our Lady holding the Christ Child aloft, presenting the Christ child, inviting souls to believe in him and love him. So, we imitate, too then, Our Lady, when we process the Eucharist, presenting him to the world to believe in him and to love him. Perhaps as we process, she will whisper to hearts, as she did at the wedding feast of Cana. “Do whatever he tells you”. 

And finally, a procession is in act of evangelization—a way of inviting others to Faith. How strange we will likely appear to unbelievers believers. Singing our hymns, carrying enshrined in gold, what looks to the world as a piece of bread. Why do they do this strange thing, they might ask. And that can be the beginning of God’s truth breaking into their lives.

In a time of political division and domestic chaos, we process to spread the Goodness, that there is a way to peace the world has not considered: a way not rooted in violence or political activism or the spreading around of wealth. The way to happiness the way to peace the way to eternal life is through union with God through Jesus Christ. 

Particularly through the Eucharistic reign of Christ. St. Mother Theresa, whose feast is today teaches that "The cure for all the ills in the Church and human society is Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament." The peace that protesters crave is found in him. The truth craved by the philosophers is found in him. The justice desired by those who work for the oppressed is found in him. The wholeness the broken so long for is found in him.

So, like our Lady, let us lift him aloft for all the world to see today. For to be to be true servants and children of Mary, is to bring souls to the Eucharist and bring the Eucharist to souls, to establish the reign of the Eucharist in all hearts, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

3rd Sunday of Lent 2020 - I Thirst

During my semester abroad in Rome, I volunteered every week at a homeless shelter run by the Missionary Sisters of Charity. A few others seminarians and I, along with some American college students would serve breakfast to the homeless men of Rome, and then we’d spend a few hours washing bedsheets from the infirmary. But before we were allowed to begin our work, we instructed to visit the chapel to pray with our Blessed Lord. We were to pray that we would see Him in those we served. Pretty much, no matter where you are in the world, the chapels of the Missionary Sisters of Charity are pretty austere. A tabernacle. No pews, for they stand or kneel on the floor. But in every one of their chapels around the world is a crucifix , with the bloodied christ looking upwards toward heaven, with words written in Italian next to the crucifix. Two words: “Ho sete”, I thirst, words uttered by Our Lord of course on Calvary, as he hung upon the cross. “Ho sete”, I thirst

Certainly he spoke of a physical thirst. After all, the blood loss and exertion from carrying the cross, must have caused unimaginable dehydration and dryness of mouth and throat. And yet, he no doubt spoke of a thirst of soul, a thirst which drove his mission, from Nazareth to the cross to do with will of his Father, a yearning for his Father described the 63rd Psalm: My God, for you I long, for you my soul is thirsting, like a dry weary land without water.”

Mother Theresa wanted her sisters to see those words “Ho Sete”, “I thirst” and meditate upon them every time they entered the chapel, no matter what part of the world in which they were stationed. For Mother wanted the  sisters to see in every person they served, in the poorest of the poor, the thirsting Christ. And to remember, that what they did for the least ones, they did for him. In every cup of water, they quenched his thirst.

But Mother Theresa also wanted her sisters to recall their own thirst, which could only be satisfied by Christ. That thirst quenched by their time in the chapel, in adoration and reception of the Eucharist. They are required to spend an hour in eucharistic adoration every day. But also their thirst for Christ which could only be quenched by their service. In serving the poorest of the poor, they would encounter Him, if their hearts were open.

Each one of us possesses a deep thirst for God—it is our deepest thirst and longing. I don’t think any of us would be here today, during this time of quarantine, if not for that thirst. Please know, however, that the obligation to attend mass has been dispensed of for the next three weeks by the bishops of ohio and our diocesan administrator, and certainly you should not come to mass if you are ill or have symptoms of the flu or corona virus.

And just as it is for the Missionary Sisters of Charity, what we do in here—the quenching of our thirst for the divine—prepares us for what must be done out there—to meet Christ in the poor and suffering.  In a time of plague and global pandemic, Christ must still be fed out there, he must still be visited, he must still be consoled. You might want to check in on the widow next door and make sure she has enough to eat, and to call your loved ones, encourage them to pray.

In the Gospel, Our Lord asks the Samaritan woman for a drink of water. The Lord certainly shattered some of the social conventions of his day: a Jew…a man…speaking to a Samaritan…a woman…coming in close contact with her, even taking a drink of water from her. Here the Lord shattered a sort of fear which gripped the people of his day, one which still operates today. A fear of the stranger, a fear bred through generations, passed on from parent to child. That sort of fear is not to operate in the Church, and must not keep Christians from charity and service.

The Lord’s conversation with the woman soon turned from his physical thirst, to her thirst for God, a thirst which the Lord promised could be quenched through Him. “Everyone who drinks the water of the well will be thirsty again; but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” To which the woman responds with faith: “give me this water”

And this is why he came. This is why he died. That the waters of eternal life may well up within us. For not only does the woman thirst, not only do we all thirst for Christ. Christ thirsts for us. God thirsts for us. Listen to the beautiful words of our Eucharistic preface today: “For when he asked the Samaritan woman for water to drink, he had already created the gift of faith within her, and so ardently did he thirst for her faith, that he kindled in her the fire of divine love.”  Jesus thirsts for us to turn to him in faith, and to allow him to kindle in our hearts fire, the fire of divine love.

This week we’ve seen reports of hoards of people irrationally hoarding the basic necessities, including water. There would have been a lot less panic, and fear, and hoarding this week, had the prayer of the Samaritan woman been on the lips and hearts of our fellow citizens: “Lord give me the water of eternal life”. For the fear of death which gives rise to violence and irrational hoarding and materialism and every sin, is cast out by love of Jesus Christ—by the divine fire.

In this time of global distress, may Christians, having the water of life welling up within them, teach the world—to turn to the waters of Christ, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.