Forgiveness, what a beautiful thing

July 01st 2008 Posted to Uncategorized

Back on June 8th, in our reading for Sunday Mass, we heard the story of the Call of Saint Matthew, with Jesus inviting the tax-collector to “follow me.”

It is a simple invitation given by our Lord, but a shocking one too. As a tax collector, Matthew is protected by the Roman government, but also in a way turns his back on his own people; for tax collectors were Jews working for an occupying force, and worse, took more money then was owed to support themselves as they were not paid by Rome. Jesus, being Jewish, should in the eyes of many shun such a man. But He calls him to “follow him.” Pretty shocking indeed.

Note too how Jesus does not give Matthew a laundry list of things to do before he can follow Him; rather it is a simple command: “follow me”. But in this, we see the kind of love that our Lord has - a love with no strings attached. One of the ways we try to emulate that love is by sharing it with others, including those who have hurt us.

This led me to want to reflect on forgiveness a bit for my homily that week, but I try to point out that forgiveness isn’t necessarily easy. That goes for ourselves too; sometimes we can really get down on ourselves or want to look in the rear-view mirror and see where we failed, without seeing the good in us or how we have changed. But making steps to forgive ourselves and one another is so important. Sometimes it takes a long time; and sometimes anger and hurt return. But I think when we try to make steps toward reconciliation, remarkable things can happen. The choice is ours: do we let hate win out and rupture our relationships, or do we try to make gradual steps toward healing and confront our feelings?

I also found a good web site, the Forgiveness Project:
http://www.theforgivenessproject.com/

It shares remarkable stories of forgiveness, from which I took two examples for my homily that day.

Here are the readings for the day as well:

http://www.usccb.org/nab/readings/060808.shtml

How beautiful forgiveness of one another and of ourselves can be if we give it the chance. Hopefully we do that, but at the same time remember it is OK even if we are angry for a time, have temporal bitterness or need time to heal. We aren’t divine, we are human. The thing of it is there is a big difference between hate and anger at actions. Living out those words to “follow me” can be so tough, especially following the kind of forgiveness our Lord showed to both Matthew and to all who crucified Him. But when we allow ourselves to move toward forgiving ourselves and one another, what incredible things can occur in our lives and the lives of those whom we forgive, as the love of God is seen with greater clarity.
Here’s the text of my homily for that day:

***

Nowadays if you refer to the “taxman” you probably mean the government, as there isn’t literally someone who goes around door to door to collect taxes anymore. But that wasn’t the case during the time that Jesus walked the earth.

Tax collectors were individuals who worked for the state and collected money from people. And as such, they were despised. Even more so, they were disliked because the work they did tended to exploit the poor and support an elaborate lifestyle. Especially despised were Jews who collaborated with Rome. If you were a self-respecting Jew, you certainly wanted to stay away from these people, because they were seen as treasonous, turning their backs on their own people, and even worse, stealing from them, as to make his living, the tax collector had to collect more than was owed, keeping the excesses for himself.

Needless to say, these were the kind of people one would expect to be in the shadows and remain in the dark, and certainly not be a part of the broader community. Perhaps this is what the famous painter, Michaelangelo Caravaggio had in mind when painted his masterpiece, the call of Matthew. I saw it for the first time on an invitation that was sent out to an ordination party, and if you haven’t seen it, it depicts a group of tax collectors, huddled over their money. What is really fascinating with this painting is how Caravaggio makes use of light. On the right end of the painting is Jesus, with light coming in behind Him. His arm is pointing towards Matthew, who is huddled over the pile of cash, with his friends in darkness. Matthew is pointing to himself and appears sort of speechless, as if he is saying “who, me?” My hunch is that it the painting pretty much depicts the situation as it was, save for the renaissance clothing that the tax collectors are wearing. Matthew would have been astonished that Jesus would have anything to do with him, which explains why the Pharisees are so upset that Jesus takes this action in reaching out to Matthew. But Jesus offers Matthew this invitation with no strings attached, saying “follow me” not “get your life in order and then make amends and follow me” or setting out some other requirements for him to meet, but rather extends him this invitation with no strings attached.

He then says something interesting to the scandalized Pharisees who ask why He is doing such a thing. Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick do: Go and learn what this means, I desire mercy, not sacrifice. For I came to call not the righteous, but sinners. Challenging words on several levels.

For one, sometimes we can all be a bit judgmental on people. I’m just as guilty of it as anyone else. But we have to remember that when we say those words before Communion, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you,” they don’t apply to just some of us but rather to all of us. We are all in need of the sacraments, because of the effects of sin, we are sick in a sense; the sacraments are God’s coming to us to help heal us. The Pharisees have a hard time seeing that though; they see themselves as righteous. Jesus tells them to learn the meaning of the words that He speaks, which is why they have to come to realize their own bankruptcy and need for God to be in their lives. Their problem is they think they have reached the finish line and have made it. The Pharisees see themselves as lacking nothing, and as such are unable to receive Christ. As one preacher put it, even the charity of God can’t bandage what has no wounds, and it is a paradox that “good people” are impervious to grace. Indeed, we can look at our lives and be proud of those things we accomplished. Maybe we have made great strides, and know people who are at a much earlier stage in their faith journey. Our challenge though is to resist the temptation to think “I have it all figured out,” because as we know so often that just isn’t the case. We need Christ’s continual presence through the sacraments and through other people, and I think one of the primary ways that we do that is through forgiveness.

Jesus closes the Gospel by saying that he desires mercy, not sacrifice. Here Jesus quotes our first reading from Hosea. Hosea was a prophet in the northern Kingdom of Israel challenging a king to serve God, and in that book, Hosea is married to an unfaithful woman named Gomer. Despite his wife being unfaithful to him, he seeks reconciliation, with his marriage symbolizing God’s relationship with Israel: time and time in the Old Testament, Israel is unfaithful to the covenant, but nonetheless God remains faithful to His end of the bargain, and continually reaches out to Israel. In that first reading, we hear how God challenges the people to true conversion – they have to put words into action not through some false piety or show of sacrifice, but rather truly take God’s words to heart. That is our challenge too, and hopefully we do that by being open to receiving and giving forgiveness. But both can be so tough.

Many for instance are really wronged in life, and hurt deeply by someone else. One such person was Vicar Julie Nicholson, who is an Anglican priest in the inner-city of London. Her daughter was one of the victims of the July 7th, 2005 bombings that took place on the metro train in London. She decided to resign her position at her church because she said that she was no longer able to preach forgiveness. However, in an article that was written about her story event by Vicar Ruth Scott, also an Anglican priest, she points out that grief needs its own time and space. At the time the article was written, 8 months had passed since she lost her daughter, and the author points out that Vicar Nicholson chose the path that allows her to reflect more deeply on those words “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” That seemingly happens right away in the call of Matthew, and indeed forgiveness is offered with no strings attached every time we come to our Lord. But when we are wronged, we should not feel bad if feelings of anger remain. Indeed as Scott points out, “living forgiveness has nothing to do with not feeling hate for the one who has hurt us. It is about acknowledging the validity of our sometimes violent emotions in the face of what has happened.” The problem though is being human, sometimes we can have a knee-jerk reaction to being hurt: we internalize the anger and let it grow, or pretend that it is not there. Rather, we are called to follow the way of the Master and extend mercy, and doing that can
take a very long time. But Scott points out in her article how that is OK, stating that “we may well go to pieces on this way of forgiveness, experience violent responses to what has happened, and move one step forward only to fall back time after time, but we will have made a choice about our direction that can become a source of strength, not guilt, to us.” Profound words, because we too have that choice. If we are going to do as Matthew and follow Jesus, and learn the meaning of the words “I desire mercy,” we have to take them to heart and keep trying to do just that to those who have hurt us, bringing the light of Christ to them, while at the same time realizing there may be moments of anger and resentment too. The past can’t be forgotten with some magic wand; but we can make a choice: am I going to try to forgive and repair this relationship, or am I going to let the darkness of hate and anger win out?

Finally, I think we also have to let those words apply to ourselves. Scott serves as a trustee of the non-partisan charity “The Forgiveness Project,” which promotes conflict resolution by collecting and sharing the stories of those who have experienced conflict and violence. There are a number of remarkable stories there, including one shared by Mary. She wasn’t really wronged by someone significantly, but rather caused harm to her son by drinking during the pregnancy, which had come as a surprise. She states that she thought she could control her drinking during the pregnancy, but she had relentless depression and even suicidal planning during the pregnancy, which sadly led her to continue drinking. Early in her sons life, it then became apparent that he had some developmental disabilities, due to fetal alcohol syndrome. Despite that, she tells of how her son was still full of life, and cheerful, funny and loving. Mary entered therapy, which helped and she successfully completed a recovery program, and her family relationships improved. But as her son became older and more self-aware and frustrated with his disabilities, the guilt continued to gnaw away at Mary. She would tell him that alcohol had damaged his brain and that it wasn’t his fault, and of her sorrow for her actions. This helped Michael, but for Mary she says that she was still haunted by shame and self-hatred, saying she couldn’t see how to forgive herself which blocked spiritual healing and growth. It was one day when they were driving together and he was 11 years old that he understood the situation, saying to his mom “Do you mean you drank alcohol when you were pregnant with me?” His moms eyes filled with tears, as she said yes and told her son that she hoped someday he could forgive her for this. But, after asking her if she was really sorry, he smiled gently at her and said to her quietly “I don’t mind. I love you mommy.” Mary says that at that point, time stopped for an instant, and she heard a voice saying “If he can forgive you this, who are you to not forgive yourself?” With his help, she did, and her life was changed.

Mary and Michael’s story is so beautiful because it shows perfectly what the power of love and mercy can accomplish when it dispels the darkness of shame. There are certainly people out there who are like the Pharisees, seeing themselves as self-righteous and not having any need for the Divine Physician, but I think more often than not for the practicing Christian, the temptation can be to place oneself in some self-imposed exile, at certain points in life, thinking “if only this person knew the real me” when we look at others who seemingly have everything figured out or are models of the faith, or when people praise us for what we do. But Jesus came to call us all, which is why we are a church of sinners and saints. He knows the real us, but if we are going to respond to His call, we have to be okay with the real us too and not run from His love and mercy or see ourselves as unworthy.

Indeed, if we are going to follow those words of our Gospel today, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice,” my hope is that we can lean how to do just that both for ourselves and one another. Each day of our lives, we have a choice: am I going to be like Matthew, and follow Him, or am I going to stay in the darkness, like the tax collector at the end of the table with his head down, and let the darkness of hate and anger for someone else take over, or the shame about my past rule the day. Indeed, it may take time for us to see the invitation of how we are to give and receive the mercy and love of our Lord, and accepting it may not make the pain of the past go away entirely. But I think the close of Mary’s story sums up our Gospel beautifully. She says the results speak for themselves in that, “we who experience self-forgiveness have gratitude, joy, peace, and willingness to share with others. Shame was transformed to grief and then serenity.” By following our Lord’s invitation and commandment, may we help make that same transformation both for ourselves and one another.

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Blood of Christ and our fallen reveal to us what love is

May 28th 2008 Posted to Uncategorized

This past weekend we celebrated the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, along with Memorial Day. One day is on a liturgical calendar; the other on the civil calendar, but both reveal the meaning of love. The Eucharist is God coming to us time and time again to give us His strength and His love; and in those who gave their lives for our freedom, we see those things which make our country so wonderful: love of God, neighbor and country. The soldier fights to protect our freedom, putting his or her life on the line so we can be free. Unfortunately, it can be easy to take both the sacrifice on the altar and on the battlefield for granted, as Memorial Day has become associated more with the BBQ and summer kick-off, and we always have the Eucharist when we go to Mass. We should not feel at all guilty for enjoying a holiday, and so too at Mass can we get distracted; however the challenge is to make sure we never forget how lucky we are for both our freedom and those who have given their lives for it, and for the presence of God in the Body and Blood of our Lord, made present in the bread and wine when we come together at Mass.

I reflected on that this past weekend, and here’s the readings from the day, Dt 8:2-3, 14b-16a; Ps 147:12-13, 14-15, 19-20; 1 Cor 10:16-17; Jn 6:51-58

http://www.usccb.org/nab/readings/052508.shtml

Here’s the homily, that I wrote for the day too.

***

One of my courses that I took as an undergrad was a course in film analysis. Two of my friends, big film buffs, were signing up for it so I figured it could be fun. The course had its good and not-so-good parts, but one of the things that we did in that class is watch some films, with the instructor analyzing them in great detail.

One of the movies that we watched was the classic “Citizen Kane,” which some claim to be the greatest film ever made. Now we all have our favorites, and everyone’s list will be different, but I think it is safe to say that most people can look at “Citizen Kane” and agree that it is a remarkable film on so many levels.

Now if we were back in my class at North Hennepin talking about it, we could get into camera angles, and various methods used by Orson Welles as he filmed it, but I’m not much of a film expert, and there is the risk that most of the people might tune out. Rather then get into that stuff though, I’d like to comment on the last word that Charles Foster Kane utters in the movie: “Rosebud.”

We aren’t sure what Rosebud is throughout the movie, but we eventually come to learn that it is the name written on a sled. It was the sled that Kane had when he was a child, and in the movie we have a flashback to Kane’s childhood where he plays in the snow and is happy being alone, because he knows that there is the safety of his parent’s home just a stones throw away. However, his mother has him sent away under the care of a guardian, as he is to inherit a vast fortune when he becomes an adult. He leaves the sled behind, and seemingly has everything now that he could hope for and a bright future under the security of the new guardian, who is much wealthier than his parents.

Over the course of the film, Kane’s empire grows and grows – he runs a huge paper that becomes one of the largest in the country; he gets political ambitions, and surrounds himself with new friends and girlfriends. But it all proves to be an illusion. His friends are fickle; he never has a long-lasting love. And in the end, as an old man at a large Florida mansion, surrounded by a vast collection, his last word is “Rosebud,” because he longs for the love and security he felt as a little boy that was taken away from him.

I think one of the reasons that the film has stood the test of time is because it gets to what our greatest needs are: to not be lonely, and to be loved. Small wonder that so many films are about that human need, because it crosses languages and cultures. And a common theme in those movies about love. No matter whether it’s something like “Finding Nemo” where the father stops at no lengths to find his son, or a beautiful film like “Forrest Gump”, where Forrest will stop at nothing to help the love of his life, Jenny, a theme of so many movies is that when someone loves someone, there is no limit to how far they will go to reach out to them. But we need not go to the video store or set up a VCR timer for Turner Classic Movies the next time a movie with a theme about love comes on to see this in action. No, indeed we need look no further than the two things we celebrate this weekend: The feast of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, and Memorial Day.

God shows His love to His people in our first reading by giving them manna in the dessert. The Israelites need the nourishment from God to sustain them in their journey, but the manna was given to satisfy their hunger so they could reached their promised land. But even with the manna, and even with the promise of an earthly kingdom that would be their own, there still was death. In the gift given by Christ, however, we are given that which will help us attain what is our heart’s desire: heaven, where we shall be with God forever and never separated from Him. And so, too, in the gift of Himself, does Christ become part of us through the Eucharist, for as we hear today, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.” What is so important to also remember with that is that when we come around this Eucharistic table, we aren’t celebrating just some memory of the past, but rather we say we celebrate Mass because this is Christ coming to us again on the tables of our altars. It is also something we have to do time and time again to maintain our strength, which is why we don’t just celebrate Communion once a year or pray semi-annually. And when He comes to us, ideally it transforms us as well. There are various ways we can do this, one of course receiving Him in the Eucharist, but also by spending time before Him in prayer.

Now of course there are various kinds of spiritualities, and perhaps you feel God’s presence at most when you pray outside on a warm summer night. Or, perhaps it is in the silence of the early morning, or when we read through the
Scriptures or spiritual treasury of our Church. By all means, we should use whatever works, but one thing I would invite us also to consider is spending time before our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. To quote Mother Theresa, “When we look at the cross, we know how much Jesus loved us. When we look at the tabernacle, we know how much Jesus loves us now” Adoration offers us an opportunity to reflect on that love, and also a nice balance to communal worship. If you think about spending time with friends and family together, maybe some of the most memorable and uplifting moments were at big celebrations. But I’d suspect that in those one-on-one encounters, you’ve also had some incredibly powerful moments too. What kid doesn’t remember a special moment alone with mom or dad, or what couple can’t call to mind the moments where it was just the two of them as one of the most powerful of their relationship. The same is true with the life of Christ, in that He too goes off alone to pray; but then He is strengthened by that experience of prayer as He goes about revealing to humanity God’s love. Having visited the chapel I once thanked someone in there for giving of his time, and he shared with me how it was the “best hour of the week for him.” Indeed, it is a peaceful place where remarkable things can happen when you encounter Christ in that way. That is why we are so blessed to have Perpetual Adoration here at Holy Name, and this weekend we invite you to sign up for an hour of your time. I’ll bet you’ll find it very rewarding and wonderful; but know that even if you can’t give a full hour, no problem. Feel free to stop in at anytime, on your way home from Church or to or from work or whenever you would like to, for it is a wonderful experience to encounter God in that way, and hopefully you will find it very peaceful in that little chapel.

But just as one who spends time in that reservation chapel leaves it to go back out into the world, and the peace can seemingly quickly fade, we have to remember that as this day celebrates the gift of Jesus feeding us with His Body and Blood and giving us this incredible gift out of love, we are called as well to follow our Lord by making that love manifest to one another. And I think some of the models we can look to in this world are those men and women who serve our country in the armed forces.

Besides being Corpus Christi Sunday, this is also Memorial Day weekend. It is a time of year many people look forward to, as the unofficial start of summer, lighter schedules, warmer weather, and a three-day weekend. But this should not just be a day to take for granted; rather it is a day where we honor those brave people who gave their lives for this country. Peter Collier, a columnist for the Wall Street Journal, wrote an article for last year’s Memorial Day, and in it he speaks of how growing up, figures such as Jimmy Doolittle and John Basilone were household names, because it was assumed that what they had done defined us as well as them, telling us what kind of nation we were. But he points out that today, no one knows the 110 medal recipients or who they are. For instance, we have heard of Pat Tillman, the hero who left the NFL to serve his country and lost his life, and he was posthumoniously awarded the Medal of Honor. But also awarded that long with him was Marine Corporal Jason Dunham, the “unknown soldier.” His story was placed on the third page of section B of the New York Times, which devoted 32 straight days to covering Abu Gharib prison in Iraq and the members of the army who made mistakes, but felt the B section was the place for the Medal of Honor information. And he says, rightfully, that there is something wrong with the fact we don’t know who these heroes of our day and age are anymore. I’m inclined to agree, for as he closes his article, he states that the only reason we are the land of the free is because we are the home of the brave.

Most people would look at a soldier and see an example of the virtue of fortitude, but indeed, just as Christ showed us how to love, so too do so many soldiers who serve this country, seen by the men and women who have shed their blood so that we may enjoy our freedom. But incredibly, so many show us what the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ is all about as well – Christ’s love for you and for me, and indeed for all of humanity. Take for instance the story of Desmond Doss, who was a conscientious objector who entered the army in 1942, becoming a medic. Initially he was intimidated and threatened by the other guys in his outfit because he would not carry a weapon. They wanted him out of the unit. But he refused, and they finally accepted him. Late in 1945, this seeming liability to the unit became its hero, as his unit was pinned down in Okinawa getting cut to pieces by the Japanese. All the guys in his outfit retreated, but not Doss. He kept going back to a rocky plateau where dozens of his wounded brothers remained, vulnerable to the Japanese forces. But despite facing enemy fire, Doss kept going back out there time and time again to treat the wounded, and move them one by one to an escarpment where they could be lowered down to safety. Each time he got one of the guys out, he apparently said a prayer: “Dear God, please let me get just one more man.” By days end, 75 had been saved because of this man’s valor. Similar stories of valor are shared by countless other women and men who have served our nation.

In a sense, I think similar words are uttered to us in the voice of God when we come before Him in our prayer, such as when you go into that little chapel behind me and encounter our Lord; for as Doss went out onto that battle zone under fire, our God comes to us too no matter where we are at, be it at a great point in our life or when we are under the daily fire of stress, anxiety, and find it hard to cope. Time and time again, our God reaches out to us, all we have to do is reach out to Him and take His loving hand and He will lead us home.

Charles Foster Kane wasn’t able to take anyone’s hand in the in the film, dying a lonely man while spending a lifetime trying to find the love that he had lost as a young boy. So many of us on our earthly journey do the same, but hopefully we never forget that right in front of us every day, that love is there. On this Memorial Day and Corpus Christi weekend, hopefully we can look to our God in the Eucharist, and invite Him into our hearts and realize that we can come before Him anytime too. But so too my hope is we can look in our world and see God’s love at work, learning something as well by those who serve their country and those who gave their life for it in how they, like Christ, shed their blood out of love others. Thank God for the Eucharist, and for the men and women who gave their lives for our freedom. May we never take either for granted, and show our love for both as they both show us what love is all about.

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NBA Playoffs make May, June great for sports

May 27th 2008 Posted to Uncategorized

So I’m probably one of the 4 people in Minnesota who have more interest in the Timberwolves than the Wild, but I’m OK with that. Actually I enjoy the Wild too, along with all of the pro teams in town and the Gophers, but when it comes to watching other teams, I’ll take the NBA over the NHL any day. I love baseball and football playoffs as well, but for some reason just can’t get into the NHL post season all that much. But it beats golf. Anyway, on to the topic du jour, the NBA.

Most of my posts are theological or have a homily (and one will be up soon too) but I occasionally like to divert, and the NBA seems to be a nice topic. TNT is doing their “40 games in 40 nights” thing currently, and playoff games are also on ESPN and ABC. And in case you’ve missed it so far, this has been a great post-season.

First there was the Celtics-Hawks match-up. Apparently the Hawks average about 94 people per game on bobblehead nights, and somehow made the post-season. I believe they were 37-45, but I’m too lazy to look up the stats right now. I do know they were sub-.500, and it was supposed to be a cake-walk but went 7 games. It was reminiscent I guess of the great Warriors-Mavericks series last season, which was fun to watch and the Warriors pulled it off in 7, becoming the only 8th seed to knock off a number-one seed since the NBA went to a 7-game first round series. The Celtics couldn’t figure out how to win on the road, and this continued into the second round when they hooked up against the Cavs, edging them in 7.

Currently they are battling the Pistons, and as of this writing the series is tied at 2 games apiece. And yes, KG and company finally won a road game in Detroit, only to get schooled two nights later as Detroit took game 4. This is a great series, and I’m OK with either team advancing as I like KG and would like to see him get a ring, and also like Sam Cassel. But I’m also OK with the Pistons as I think Flip was a great coach and got the unfair blame for the Timberwolves lack of success. That’s too bad, because he was a great coach and did his best. This is a very even series, and could go either way.

Out West, the Spurs edged the Hornets (now New Orleans having moved from Charlotte) in 7, and if you saw the first game of the Western Conference finals that was last Wednesday you saw a great game. I tuned in late, and San Antonio was up 20 about midway through the third, and then went cold as the Lakers came back to win. Quite a game, almost like an NCAA game with that turnaround. The Spurs won game 3 after getting blown out in game 2, but I can’t see them repeating this year. LA is just too good, and Kobe Bryant is clearly the best in the NBA but also gets help meaning that they can return to their glory of the Shaq-Kobe era.

The Finals should be fun whoever makes it, and it would be fun to see another Lakers-Celtics series. It’s been a while! I haven’t had a chance to see every minute of every game, but tuning in is fun and if you think the NBA is dull, think again. As for the Wolves, well, spring is ping-pong ball season for the lottery and not playoff season, and alas we got third in the draft, but hopefully they will be a little better next season. Till then, as fun as the Twins are and as much as I love baseball, don’t forget about the NBA if you’re a sports fan. The games are great.

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Communism, tyranny alive and well (but so is hope!)

May 02nd 2008 Posted to Uncategorized

May finally arrived this past week, and with it “May Day.” The day marked the feast of Saint Joseph the Worker, as in our Archdiocese the Ascension, which could have been celebrated on Thursday, May 1, has been transferred to Sunday.

The feast of Saint Joseph the worker was celebrated on May 1st, and this day goes back to Pius XII who promulgated the feast. May Day honors labor in Europe, and this is an ideal feast for the day. However, May Day had been commandeered by the Reds and Marxists, and many may remember the various parades of the day in Moscow when the army would march.

We don’t see footage like that from Moscow anymore, but unfortunately there can be a myth that oppression has faded greatly in the past 20 years with the fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the USSR. These were truly wonderful things indeed, but unfortunately tyranny from governments is alive and well, and a prime example of that is the Chinese government.

I’m not a huge fan of CNN, but commentator Jack Cafferty apparently got into some hot water for referring to the Chinese government as “goons and thugs” as apparently it came across like he was referring to the Chinese people. CNN apologized, but I don’t have much of a problem with Cafferty’s assessment of the Chinese government. The Catholic Church is officially underground in China, and human rights are under continual assault by the government. We also have the horrible situations in North Korea and Vietnam. China tries to hide it’s human rights record, but the spotlight is shining on the country as the Olympics prepare to open later this summer, as evident by recent protests. Boycotting the games probably isn’t the best idea, (though an opening ceremony boycott might be a good way to send a message) but the games give the world an opportunity to remember that all is not well and Communism remains.
Last week in my homily, I decided to reflect a little bit on this new iron curtain, and talk about hope how despite tyranny, the Church goes on and people remain devoted to their faith. I also shared the story of Cardinal Francis Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan, who was imprisoned when the Communists took over Vietnam as an example of how hope is lived out.
The readings for the week were:

Acts 8:5-8, 14-17; Ps 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20; 1 Pt 3:15-18; Jn 14:15-21. Here is a link to them:

Readings for Sixth Sunday of Easter (Year A).

Hopefully one day Communism will be gone, but unfortunately change can be quite slow. Of course human rights do not just suffer in Communist countries. The situation remains equally suppressive and disconcerting in much of the Middle East; while not Communist, you of course have human rights being oppressed and Christians persecuted due to the situation of extreme Mohammadism, with terrorism unfortunately a possibility we have to live with every day. And yet you still have people who are beacons of hope in such places. The Holy Father plans on meeting with some leaders of Islam this fall, which will hopefully improve relations for the future. I do not mean to paint a “glass is half empty” picture, for indeed we have made progress and the fall of the Berlin Wall and USSR are great - but hopefully we never think we have reached the finish line.

Here’s the homily text:

***

On March 5th, 1946, Winston Churchill received an honorary degree at Westminster College in Missouri. It was on the same day that he gave a famous speech, in which he stated that an “iron curtain” has descended across the continent of Europe. Churchill was pointing out that while the Second World War had been one, we should not lull ourselves into a false sense of security, because the dark shadow of Nazism which controlled many of the Eastern Europe countries was being replaced with the dark shadow of Communism.

It seemed that this dark shadow had been erased by 1991, when the Soviet Union fell after the fall of the Berlin Wall. However, looks can be deceiving, for tyranny and oppression of human rights remain alive and well, as we have been reminded of with the protests in recent weeks against the Chinese government. And indeed, the iron curtain has not so much fallen as perhaps been adjusted to cover different parts of the world, with one of the effects being the oppression of Christianity.

Most people don’t think much of Christian persecution in our day and age, and perhaps associate it with the time of Nero or the early Christian martyrs who lost their lives. But the sad reality is that Christian persecution has been alive and well ever since the Ascension – it has just taken different forms.

In our own day and age, we have seen it strongly under both the old and new iron curtain, in how the Soviet Union persecuted the Orthodox Church, and in particular in Vietnam. It’s certainly not a war we much like to think about, but the effects of it on the South Vietnamese people were horrific, especially for those of faith. When the Communists took over, the Church suffered greatly, including the Archbishop of Saigon, Francios Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan. When the Communists rolled into Saigon, the Church was seen as a prime target, and the archbishop was targeted as the Reds thought his appointment meant there was a Vatican-South Vietnamese conspiracy. This landed him in a so-called reeducation camp for the next 13 years, nine of which would be spent in solitary confinement. Now you might think this would pose a challenge to his faith, or lead him to be tempted to renounce it, as he had served God and answered the call, and this seemingly is his thanks – solitary confinement and suffering. But that wasn’t at all how he responded to this horrible situation. Instead, he responded with love, befriending his guards. He said that if he was serious about his faith, this was how he had to respond. And a funny thing happened. The guards themselves began to be transformed, in that they too befriended the archbishop, and the smuggled in pieces of paper so he could write. Eventually they gave him a small piece of timber so he could make a cross, as religious artifacts were not allowed. The bishop would eventually be released in 1988, and welcomed to Rome by John Paul II where he would eventually become a cardinal, and head up the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace.

Sadly the cardinal’s experience under the Communists in Vietnam is one shared by countless others. Things have apparently gotten somewhat better in Vietnam, but the relationship between Church and State is precarious at best, and to the north the Church is still underground in China, made illegal since 1949, though relations are attempting to be thawed. Despite this though, an estimated 8 million people in China belong to the underground Catholic Church, and people in other corners of the world continue to practice their faith, despite the risks that it poses to their lives. And the main reason for this is, I believe, that they are guided by the virtue of hope, just as the Apostles were.

We hear in our second reading today that the Christian is always to be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, doing so with gentleness and kindness, and we also hear that suffering will be a part of living out the faith. That was something that the Cardinal understood, that millions of people from the persecutions of Nero to the Bolsheviks and Chinese Communists have embraced as well, and my hope is that when we are asked for a reason for our hope, we are also able to give a proper answer.

The Holy Father decided to tackle this issue in his second encyclical, “Spe Salvi,” or “In Hope.” In it, he tries to clarify some notions of hope. He starts by stating that hope allows us to accept our present, which we can accept because it leads towards a goal, and if we can be sure of this goal, the efforts of the journey can be justified. The one who has hope leads a life because they know that they have a future, and that their lives will never live in emptiness. The faith for the Christian isn’t just some information which we are to set aside, but is rather something which hopefully shapes our way and our lives – the substance of things hoped for. The thing of it is, at times we aren’t quite sure what it is we are hoping for. It’s really more easy to focus on the short-term things, but what we find is that everything in the short term always falls a bit short. Last week in my homily I reflected on my love for sports, and how I hoped the 98 Vikings would win the Super Bowl, but had that happened, would that have fulfilled my desire? Or even with the higher things, such as love, so many of us just want to find fulfillment in the other and find love in a spouse. And indeed, this is beautiful, but even in strong friendships and marriages, not every moment is perpetual bliss – even that might fall a little bit short. Beyond that, most of us would say “I hope for heaven,” but even then we might think of a golf course with no tee times required, or perhaps being with our friends forever. While we may very well encounter or loved ones there, of course none of us can really know what it is fully. Some might even just think of it as a never-ending succession of days or a continuation of life as we know it on earth, but the pope likens it to plunging into the ocean of infinite love, a moment in which time itself no longer exists. I like that analogy, but I also like his point that we aren’t to think of just plunging into that ocean alone. He says we need to get away from individualistic thinking of it, pointing out how in the Letter to Hebrews, heaven is referred to as a “city” and therefore is a state of communal salvation. And that is why Christians who are truly guided by this virtue continually strive to make the world a better place. The thing of it is at times we go astray because we neither understand what true hope is, or what true freedom is.

Take the evils of Communism in our world today. The Holy Father points out that indeed European workers did suffer and there were horrible living conditions, but that the solution of Marx for revolution might have pointed out a problem, but he offered no solution; hence when the Reds took over Russia, suffering followed, with the same thing happening in Viet Nam and China. The problem, the Holy Father points out wisely, is that Marx forgot that man always remains man, and that freedom always remains also freedom for evil, and because of that you can’t redeem a person simply by changing the economic environment.

What is needed for redemption is love. The Holy Father states that when someone has that great experience of a great love in their lives, this gives a new meaning to life. And as one experiences that love, they are called to share it, as Jesus commits us to live for others. He cites Augustine, who stated “The Gospel terrifies me,” which means that Augustine had a fear of God. But it wasn’t the kind of fear such as the Cowardly Lion showed before the almighty Oz, but rather a fear in the sense that one leads a life to pass on love and transmit hope that we share in common, preventing us from living alone.

This is something that we’ve seen throughout this Easter Season as many of our readings have come from the Acts of the Apostles, who use their gifts given to them by the Holy Spirit to build up the Church. It is also something that we continue to see in our world today by those who make Christ’s love apparent, and I think we see it especially in the young.

Over the past couple of weeks and continuing today, we have celebrated First Communions at a number of our weekend
liturgies. Now when some people see the young people process up, and dressed up in shirts, ties, and dresses, our first reaction might be “don’t they look so cute.” That might be true, but I think an even better thing to think of would be “don’t they look like Christ.” The Holy Father states in his encyclical out how in a third century sarcophagus (a stone tomb) of a child in Rome, there is the depiction of Christ with the Gospel in one hand and the staff in the other. The staff is to symbolize Christ the philosopher. Now it’s not the kind of philosophy we think about today as kind of an abstract and difficult science, but rather the philosopher in the ancient world was someone who taught others how to live a life of excellence; that image of Christ symbolized how was armed with the Gospel in one hand, but used that Gospel to travel and show others how to live. And there are so many ways that the young do this. Think about how when you see kids interact with one another, so often they don’t see things like color or show things like hate for other people, but they simply act out of love. I’ll bet many parents can share stories too about how while there may be the inevitable fights, how so often one sibling helps another at home, or how a daughter or son does something like help to clean the house, or something spontaneously nice for them simply out of love. As kids age, there are certainly those problems that arise from the effects of original sin, like bullying and teasing, but the flip side of that is there are so many moments where a young person might shows us all how to love. And unfortunately, just like the early Christians, they may suffer at times for doing good works by being teased by a classmate for not joining in in teasing someone else, or for doing the right thing
and telling the teacher or their mom and dad about someone who is seriously hurting someone else. They might not know it fully, but when they do these acts of love and fortitude for their families and friends, they show us in a way what the virtue of hope is all about. So my hope is that when we look to them, we see not just people who are dressed nice, but people who can teach us all about living the life of Christian excellence.

Cardinal Van Thuan, in his writings from prison, once wrote I will not spend time waiting. I will live the present moment and fill it with love. Doing that entailed an incredible amount of hope, but as he lived for the present, he brought love and the light of Christ to a prison that the shadows of despair seemed to shroud in darkness. Those same shadows remain in our larger world today, but it is up to you and me to make sure the light of Christ constantly dispels them. People like Cardinal Van Thuan, people like the Christians who continue to live out the faith despite persecutions, and people like these First Communicants, who say “yes” to their faith, have truly shown us the way to make it happen. Christ reminds us in our Gospel that the Advocate will be with us always – may we open ourselves up to letting the Spirit work within our hearts, and follow their example, truly working to be the hands of Christ to one another.

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More than just a photo-op

April 16th 2008 Posted to Uncategorized

This past weekend I had the chance to celebrate First Communion with a number of the younger members of the parish at our Sunday Masses, and it was wonderful. Parents and relatives were smiling, and after Mass one looking into the church might have thought a press conference was taking place with the number of cameras that were out.

Most of us do remember our First Communion, because its one of those big moments in our lives. But hopefully as we look back on that day, we remember not the party, but the fact that this was the first of many wonderful moments - experiencing Christ coming into our hearts through the Eucharist with the rest of the community.

Of course, over the course of a life, many things can happen and the faith, while present, can wax and wane. Its up to us to keep on feeding it, and one of the ways we do that is through the Eucharist. We also do it by being good sheep and shepherds - following Christ down the road of life which can be tough, and being servant-leaders and signs to one another as well.

I reflected on this a little bit during my homily, which is posted below. First Communion is where we say “yes” to follow Christ to the altar having reached the age of reason - but we have to keep on following Him long after that day too. Congrats to all of our First Communicants on reaching this milestone, and may the love of Jesus shine forever in your hearts!
Here are the readings for the day:

http://www.usccb.org/nab/readings/041308.shtml

(Acts 2:14a, 36-41; Ps. 23: 1-3a, 3b4, 5, 6; 1 Pt 2:20b-25; Jn 10:1-10)

***

Homily text:

In the early to mid 1990s, Minnesota experienced a boom in golf courses. They were popping up everywhere as people took a greater interest in the game. I even got into the mix, getting into the game in high school for a time and playing at the nearby executive courses or hitting the driving range whenever I could. I found it to be relaxing and a nice way to unwind.

I must admit though it’s been years since I’ve played a round of golf, not because I hate the game but because other hobbies have kind of taken up my interest. However, I’m not alone. So many new courses were built in Minnesota in the 1990s that many are now struggling to stay afloat. And while golf was en vogue for a time and courses were flooded with kids taking up the game, many left when frankly they found it was hard. You couldn’t just go out and be the next Tiger Woods. If you wanted to get good at golf, you had to do as Tiger Woods did, and practice time and time again. This meant hitting the range, working on putting and chipping, and the many other aspects of the game. I suspect the relative high cost to play a round of golf, and the fact that improvement without hard work was tough to come by led many to leave the game. Don’t get me wrong, golf is still loved by many and I’ll probably eventually play again, but I think the big boom of the 90s is clearly over.

The same can be said of any fad really if you think about it. Remember the Rubik’s cube? The thing seemed impossible to solve, so many gave up. Or even back in January, if you hit the Y or Lifetime, I suspect the crowds were way up with the folks who resolved to drop those holiday pounds; come March though, the resolutions may have been forgotten by some as getting to the gym and sweating proved to be too much of a hassle.

But then there are those who kept hitting the driving range, the gym, or never gave up on trying to solve the perplexing Rubik’s cube, and a funny thing happened: they saw results. The rounds over 100 suddenly began to fall to 95 and then 90. A month went by and the scale began to show a few less pounds. And after weeks of frustration, finally one side of the cube was entirely in blue.

Now no matter what you are into, whether it’s golf or the gym, at first it sounds like a wonderful proposition. I’m going to hit that gym and drop that extra weight, and hit the course and play just like Tiger on T.V. And the first time you do it, you are pretty pumped up. But when we find it’s tough to do, that’s when we have to ask ourselves, are we going to see this thing through, or are we going to move on to something else?

For the most part, there’s nothing wrong with changing hobbies based on emotion. But when it comes to things like trying to lead a healthy lifestyle or giving up on dropping weight or quitting smoking after the doctor told us to, that can be a little different. If we want to stick around to be physically healthy for a while, we’d best change the diet and hit the gym. The same is also true with our spiritual health as well.

I suspect there is a lot of emotion here in this sanctuary this morning, just as there was three weeks back on Easter, for today a number of the younger members of our parish family will be making their first Communion. Cameras will be out en masse, and a few hours from now there will be cake being sliced and orange juice flowing. And it’s entirely appropriate, for today for many is a day of celebration as an important step is taken – the first communicant is saying “yes” to having Jesus come into his or her heart, just as those elect did back on the Easter Vigil. But we call it “first” Communion because it’s the first time of many times that these people will come forward to Jesus. It is a sacrament He has given to us to be repeated time and time again until the end of time. When we come forward to receive Jesus, we are reminded of our need for Him, but hopefully too, as we repeat it time and time again, continually feeding our souls with Christ, we are also reminded of our constant need to feed our faith life too.

Emotions are a wonderful thing, but if we go by emotion alone, at times we might not see something through when they go away. The faith is a prime example of it. In these past few weeks of the Easter Season, we’ve seen the apostles have a lot of joy upon seeing Christ rise from the dead, but we’ve also seen some other emotions too, especially fear. In two Gospel accounts, we found them holed up in a locked room, and last week we found two disciples en route to Emmaus, with some fear and a whole lot of gloominess about what happened to Christ back on Good Friday. But as they celebrated the breaking of the bread, Christ was revealed to them. Even so, upon Christ being revealed to them last week, the Gospel records that Jesus vanishes from their midst. This is something that will happen again when we get to the Ascension. But instead of being gloomy and letting their emotions make them fearful, these apostles go out and boldly proclaim God’s word, and their faith grows. Hopefully ours does the same as well.

What we have to remember though is that at times the faith will require hard work. The reason Catholics aren’t into altar-calls is that we appreciate the fact that growing in the faith takes time. That’s why preparation took place for those who entered the Church fully back on the Easter vigil, for those who will be confirmed here in a few more weeks, and for those whom over these next few weeks will be making their first communions. They didn’t just come to Church with their families one week and walk up to me at the back and say “It’s a beautiful day out today, and Jenny is feeling great, and we have grandma with us so we can all go out to brunch so how about First Communion this morning?” Instead the families took the time to prepare to lead up to this day. But today isn’t just some photo-op moment. It’s the first day of many where people who make their first Communion will encounter Christ in a new way. And just as one has to keep on going
to the driving range, and putting in the hours at the gym to see results, so one has to keep putting in the time the faith requires well beyond the hour that is spent at Mass on Sunday. But when we do, we become not only good sheep but good shepherds as well.

Everyone here this morning has heard the voice of the Shepherd and responded to it, but for us all there can be the temptation to follow other paths and listen to the other voices that try to drown out the voice of the Shepherd, or to bypass the gatekeeper if you will. Jesus in our Gospel is both the gatekeeper and the Shepherd, and we are told that he is a thief and robber who enters the sheepfold the other way. They sound like rather harsh words, but for us all on the road of life there can be the temptation to try to find the back door in to the heavenly kingdom. We should never doubt the loving mercy of God, but at the same time we should never rely on it to the point where we think we have no work to do. That’s presumption, one of the sins against the virtue of hope. There are some in the world who take an attitude of thinking that putting the envelope in the plate or receiving Christ in the Eucharist suffices for it all. Those can be signs of living out the faith, but for the believer hopefully it is much deeper than that, and something that truly takes root in the soul.

One of the biggest helps for it to take root in the soul is to make use of the virtue of fortitude, which we might not think about much but which is so important in living out the faith. Just on Friday, we celebrated the feast of Saint Stanislaus, the patron saint of Poland who was a bishop murdered by a king at a time when Catholicism was the religion of the land, because he stood up against the king and defended the poor and those whom the king was harming. Saint Stanislaus and so many Christians gave their lives for the faith, because they knew that following the way of the Shepherd through His gate might certainly be tough. We don’t have to worry about martyrdom much these days in this country in that sense, but how many times over the course of a life is the faith really put to the test? Take for instance in the lives of the second graders who receive Communion for the first time today. Many will go home to wonderful celebrations with friends and families, but the faith may really be put to the test during the week. Maybe they will be on the bus ride home and see a classmate really being teased relentlessly. Or maybe they’ll be tempted to join in to pick on someone who makes an easy target. Will they stand by and do nothing, or stand up for what is right? The same is true for us all too. The weather will soon warm up, and Sundays or Saturday evenings might be tempting to spend outside or at the golf course. And the temptation can be to skip Mass one week, and then the next week until the weather gets bad again. Time and time again in our lives we will be tempted to bracket the faith to something that takes place within the doors of the Church, and when those temptations arise, we always have to remember that the faith is more than just viewing the Church as a service for sacraments, but as something all of us are a part of, both as sheep and as shepherds. Sheep in the sense that we follow Christ, but shepherds in the sense that we are all servant-leaders. All of the parents out there this morning who said yes to helping their kids prepare for their First Communion helped to lead them to Christ. And every time we say yes going to Church to come and receive Jesus again and hear Him in the Word and see Him in one another, we are shepherds to others who look at us and see the Gospel at work. The same is true when we give of a week night to come and teach the faith to others as a catechist, or to give of our time to sit through a finance council meeting, or to serve as a befriender and visit the sick. As we hear proclaimed in our second reading, when you do right and suffer for it you take it patiently, you have God’s approval. Hopefully we don’t think of volunteering or Mass as suffering (though the
occasional homily can be the exception) but rather hear those words and understand that following the shepherd
as a sheep and being a shepherd for others require a sacrifice and time and effort, but when it is made, something beautiful happens – we find our way to the heavenly kingdom, and help lead others there too.

To all those making their first communion this morning, and indeed to all present here this morning, I just want to thank you and applaud you. For most of us, it is has been a long time since the First Communion day, but you’ve realized that the First Communion wasn’t just like the latest fad, but something truly special – you followed the shepherd to the altar of God. And here you are again, still at the driving range or gym if you will that is needed to train us to become who we are meant to become – citizens of the heavenly kingdom. Every day the voices of the false shepherds will try to draw us away. Hopefully we never listen to them, but always hear the voice of the true shepherd who invites us to come to Him time and time again, and in turn help others find the way to Him.

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Taking His Hand

March 18th 2008 Posted to Uncategorized

On the Fifth Sunday of Lent, we had a rather lengthy Gospel reading from John in which Jesus raises Lazarus. But there’s a lot more to the story than just Jesus raising His friend. Indeed, the story comes down to much about faith, and trusting in Christ completely, which can be tough for us all.

During the week, I meet with Fr. Tim, Chris Kostelc, Nate Reinhardt and Sunny Scott in a liturgy prep meeting, especially focusing on Life Teen. Nate brought up the book “The Great Divorce,” a little gem by C.S. Lewis, which I incorporated into this homily and another one I gave at a funeral during the week. (Here’s a link to the wikipedia article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Great_Divorce. What it comes down to as well is trusting in God.

Here were the readings for that Sunday: http://www.usccb.org/nab/readings/030908.shtml. (Ez 37:12-14; Ps 130:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 7-8; Rom 8:8-11; Jn 11:1-45 or 11:3-7, 17, 20-27, 33b-45).

This week is Holy Week, and we started on Palm Sunday remembering the crowds welcoming Jesus as a hero. But they prove to be rather fickle, as the cheers turn to insults and ridicule quickly, and they walk away. Trust is a key theme of this solemn week, in that Jesus trusts in the Father, even if at times He might not understand fully the situation. Our trust is put to the test time and time again, and even if we walk away or struggle, we can always come back, which sadly Judas just couldn’t understand. May we never focus on the rear-view mirror of life, and put all our trust in Him, and take His hand to help lead us home.

Have a blessed week. Below was my homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent:

***

Over the years, there have been many images of heaven and hell created in books, art and film, some of them better than others. The Christian Author C.S. Lewis created versions as well in his works, such as “The Great Divorce.”

It’s a short read, and easy to understand but at the same time very deep. The narrator begins his journey in a grim place, the gray town. Well, he certainly doesn’t want to stay around this place very long, so he catches a bus. On the bus, he encounters others who also want to get out of gray town as quickly as possible. The bus travels on to a beautiful country, but what the narrator and the others on the bus come to realize is that they are, in fact, ghosts. Unfortunately for them, this poses some problems for them trying to get off of the bus. With every feature of the new, bright land much more solid then they are, even such things as walking on the grass are painful. This gives them second thoughts.

Some people whom they have known on earth try to convince them though that they should continue on, because
eventually they will get used to the country and feel no more pain. But they come up with various excuses as to why they should head back to the gray town. One is a theologian who says that he really needs to get back to teaching theology, because the other people would be lost without him. Another passenger is a man who committed murder, given some guidance by the person he killed who forgives him. The murderer though can’t accept that he is forgiven, and as such can’t proceed on.

The narrator comes to find out that gray town, symbolizing hell, and heaven, symbolizing heaven, work backwards as well. As one remains attached to the gray town, happiness begins to fade, even on earth. However, as one focuses
on heaven, despite at one point being in the gray town, their sorrows, even on earth, over time, are turned into joy.

One of the problems that the passengers on the bus have is that they just can’t see the reality of heaven all that clearly. Some can’t realize that it is even possible to get there; others just focus on the short-term pain that they have, thinking at least in gray town they might not have the physical pain to deal with. Others just can’t quite trust those who try to lead them there.

A similar problem confronts some of the characters in our Gospel today.

George MacDonald serves as a guide to the narrator in The Great Divorce, and Jesus could be taking that role in our Gospel today. Martha, Mary, the Jews and the Apostles could be seen as passengers on the bus.

We seemingly have a quite bleak situation: Lazarus, the friend of Jesus and the apostles, has died. Jesus takes a rather curious course of action. Knowing he is ill, he stays where he is at for two more days. It is then brought to his attention that his friend has died, and what is his response? “I am glad for you that I was not there.” An interesting statement. He could have helped his friend, but instead doesn’t get to the place on time, and now He is happy? The answer though is found in the next line: Jesus is glad not because His friend has died, but rather so that others might come to see the glory of God at work in Lazarus through what is about to happen.

Presumably Jesus and the Apostles were not near a Greyhound station, and as such have to walk to get to where
Lazarus is. And when they arrive, they are met by Martha (again, doing all the work while Mary stays in the house). She tells Jesus that if only He had come earlier, her brother would not be dead. But yet she still has faith, saying “even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” Her problem though is perhaps she is a bit focused on her understanding of what will happen to her brother. Jesus starts to tell her that Lazarus will rise, and she cuts Him off, iterating to Him Jewish theology about the resurrection of the body. Jesus then corrects her, telling her that He is the resurrection and the life, to which Martha says she believes in as well.

Martha, like the apostles, has faith, but it is still a little bit gray. They believe in Jesus, but don’t understand fully who He is. Martha, ever the doer, took the lead in her conversation with Jesus, but notice Mary’s response: she doesn’t say anything initially, but rather rises quickly, and comes to Him. She accepts Jesus as the resurrection and the life, in that she says to Jesus had He been there, her brother would not have died. But it’s then that her faith becomes a bit shaky – she has just run to Jesus, and seemingly put her trust in Him, but now begins to weep with the Jews who are there, and as such Jesus becomes perturbed. She gets taken up in human emotion.

It’s an interesting word choice, and we will hear it again later on, and it can almost make Jesus sound cold. But I think the reason the author uses that adjective is to describe that Jesus is perhaps a bit frustrated with the people on the scene. He may understand why they are upset, but He is present. Maybe He just hopes that they would have been able to understand fully his self-revelation and that He is the resurrection. They’ve taken some steps, but just aren’t quite there yet. The Jews (and of course they are all Jews at this point; the author uses that term as this Gospel is written last, probably after the followers of Jesus had been kicked out of the Jewish community to form their own to show differentiation) also don’t quite get it, remarking that wasn’t this the same guy who healed the blind man? I guess He can only do so much.

Martha also joins her sister too in failing to make the total leap to Christ. Jesus tells her to move the stone away, but again she cuts off Jesus, objecting “look, the body has been here a few days now, and there is going to be an odor.” Again though, she is not taking in the situation fully. If she can commit herself fully to Christ, the guiding and saving presence of God will help lead her home. She sees the death as absolute. Despite that though, God acts, making His power visible to all.

Martha, Mary, and the Jews weep because they fail to understand fully God’s plan. Even Christ will have a hard time grasping fully the plan of the Father; from this point on He is moving forward toward the violent end of His life. Before long He will be in the Garden, asking for the cup that is before Him to be removed; after that on the Cross uttering the prayer of lament, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me.” But as I have said before, that isn’t to signify that Jesus has walked away from the Father, or that despair has entered into His heart, but rather that He’s just not fully aware of the Father’s plan. He still trusts, but doing so isn’t easy.

And neither is it easy for us. As last week the Pharisees looked at the blind man and thought they saw a sinner, this week the cast of characters look in front of them and see a loved one who has died. They have made steps forward in their faith, but they just aren’t at the finish line yet. To do that, they need to turn it all over to Jesus and trust Him fully. But doing so can at times involve pain.

I shared the story a while back about my grandma’s battle with pancreatic cancer, and how when my dad gave her
the news, she had an incredible peace about her. She didn’t want to fight to have a few extra weeks; she was OK
with the situation, having suffered through dialysis for a number of years, and had a number of other medical
conditions. And I saw that peace in her as I visited her in her final weeks on this earth. I’ve been fortunate so far in that I haven’t had to stay in the hospital, but I know when confronted with that I would certainly be frightened at first about not knowing what was ahead. I suspect most anyone might be tempted to cry to God words similar to Mary: If you had been here, this would not have happened. So many lead a good life, work hard, and then get blind-sided by a terrible disease, or suffer loss in their life suddenly; or fall on hard times financially. And when those moments happen, can’t we all be tempted to wonder why wasn’t God there?

We may not realize or be able to see that God is there, and is present to us at the moment though. We have the
hope that we might make it through the situation, but there can certainly be that temptation to give into despair – to thinking that the battle is just no longer worth fighting, and that we are alone, and meant to do it alone, retreating into the confines of our own gray town. Or, we can trust our guide, and take His hand, and truly let His spirit into our hearts.

Many of us will struggle at various points doing that, and that is OK. Jesus may have been somewhat perturbed, but He still reached out to His friends, and God’s glory shown through Lazarus. My grandma encountered her own Good Friday as she laid in that hospital bed, but in how she reached out to all of us in the family, it was clear to me God’s glory was shining through her too. The ways God works can be quite mysterious, and through our own eyes at times they might make little sense. But what is clear is God acts, and God redeems – will we take His hand, and let Him guide us home, or will we go our own ways?

And finally, let us not forget that taking His hand so that He will show us the way can also involve us making the decision to change, which can also involve pain. At the start of Lent many of us decided to change something in our lives, perhaps confronting something we were not too proud about. As Lent winds down now and we approach
Easter, have we been willing to go through the pain of detachment? Have we been willing to walk away from the
things we had that kept us from loving God, loving our neighbors, and even loving ourselves as we should? Have we been willing to, as Thomas says, go and die with Him, by dying to those things that keep us from the kind of
relationship with God we know we can have? There is sacrifice when we take the initiative to turn off the TV or the cell phone for an extra half-hour at the end of the day and pray. There is sacrifice when we decide to put in the extra time to study, or to help a child or sibling with their homework rather than doing what we want to do, or even when we decide to make a lifestyle change like giving up smoking or putting in the time to exercise to take care of our bodies. But for all the short-term pain those things might involve, the funny thing is they can lead to some wonderful things: a better grade, a healthier lifestyle, a better relationship with the person we decided to help, and even a better relationship with God. And even if things haven’t gone the way we had hoped this Lent, there still is time to change.

Getting off of the bus that takes us to heaven isn’t easy. It’s much easier to stay put, and in our own version of gray town. So many people just drift from one day to the next, and put up with the setbacks in life with the motivation to try to build a heaven here on earth, or with an apathy that all that matters are the greenbacks. Others see life as a journey that might involve temporal pains at times, but understand that they aren’t the driver of the bus, just the passenger. The driver knows the way home, and at times it may be a difficult journey. But with Him leading us, it is one we can make. Let’s just make sure we never get off of the bus, and trust that the driver knows what He is doing, even if the road may be a little bumpy at times.

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Looks can be deceiving

February 08th 2008 Posted to Uncategorized

This past Wednesday, we began our journey through the Lenten Season on Ash Wednesday. Ashes are the symbol of the day, and remind us that indeed one day we will return to dust. But out of the dust comes hope; and just as one looks at ashes and can see something that once was, many looked to Christ on the Cross and saw someone who once was: “He saved others, He cannot save Himself. So He is the King of Israel! Let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in Him.” (Matt. 27:42). Jesus however, passes over from death to life, and through His sacrifice, also redeems us. He rises from the tomb where He was to become dust, and makes our eternal salvation possible. Yes, our earthly bodies may return to dust, but death isn’t the endgame: we have the hope that heaven is.

However, at times we can be a bit confused, can we not? Maybe this is all there is, so maybe I should focus on this world alone. But when we do that, and focus just on this world and try to fill up our life with whatever it is that seemingly makes us happy - relationships, money, or material items, we still have to face the reality that death is out there, lurking. So, are we going to prepare for it by truly being an “ambassador for Christ”  (2 Cor. 5:20) or are we just going to be an ambassador for ourselves.

Here was my homily from Ash Wednesday, and here are the readings for the day:

Jl 2:12-18; Ps. 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 and 17; 2 Cor 5:20—6:2 and Mt 6:1-6, 16-18

I hope Lent is great and fruitful for you. While those ashes may make us think of death, Lent can make us think of gloom - but in one of the prefaces for the Eucharist Prayer, the prayer reads “Each year you give us this joyful season.” Lent is hopeful too - joyful in that we journey towards Easter, and life is eternal, the power of sin destroyed, with our hope that heaven, not ashes, are at the end of the line for us. May we allow the season to transform us.

****

Each spring, on Palm Sunday, we read the Passion, and of course everyone entering Church that day receives fresh, green palms. They symbolize how those who welcomed Jesus coming into Jerusalem lined the streets, crying out “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the king of Israel.” It must have been quite a sight.

But come Good Friday, those crowds that welcomed Jesus have been replaced by other crowds, that cry out for His crucifixion. The King of Kings is handed over, beaten up, and welcomed this time not with palms but instead jeers, beatings, and then placed on a throne made of wood.

The many who welcomed Him now are no longer there; most of His friends have now been scattered. Palm Sunday seemingly looked like it would be the finest hour of Christ; come Good Friday His mission has seemingly ended in failure. And, taken down from the Cross, He is placed in a tomb.

It was here where presumably the body of Jesus would decay over time, and turn to dust, much like the palms do over time. Initially if you think back to last Palm Sunday, the palms are of course green and smooth; over the past few weeks as people brought them to Church, they certainly don’t look that way anymore. Now, they have become dry and brittle; and yesterday morning, they were burned, creating the ashes that we will receive today.

Ashes are the symbol of the day, and they seem a rather curious way to mark the beginning of Lent. After all, don’t we hear in our Gospel this morning that we aren’t to go around so everyone can see when we pray and fast, but rather approach such things humbly? Even more confusing can be how they are created, from the palms of last year. But it makes sense if you think about it.

Ashes represent something that once was, and are a stark reminder of our humanity. Certainly at first glance, they might make us look different than others on Ash Wednesday who show up at work or school without ashes. Ted Turner even once remarked a few years back to CNN employees “What are you, a bunch of Jesus freaks?.” I’m not sure what Ted’s faith is, but one thing I am sure of is that he is human. And one day, Ted, like all of us, will have to face the fact that he will die, as will everyone here this morning. Modern medicine has made such wonderful strides, and does so much, but it can’t change the fact that life on this earth is finite.

Ashes, besides symbolizing how we are finite, also symbolize the fact that we all share in sin too, and have the need to repent. That is why we don’t bring them home and wear them from time to time, but the only time we receive them is together. The Christian on Ash Wednesday says “I am a follower of Christ, but I am also a sinner, and have need for change in my life. I need Christ.” They also remind us that we do not live in isolation from one another, but rather are united to one another and that we need to pray and help one another on our journey towards our heavenly goal.

If today were just about what was before our eyes – the ashes – it might seem much like things seemed on the first Good Friday: that our pilgrimage on earth, like the journey of Jesus on earth, would end with the same result: death. However, we know the story does not end there. Ashes may be what remains from Passion Sunday, but ultimately life triumphs over death – Jesus rises body and soul from the dead. The thing of it is though, that was hard for many to see at the time at the foot of the cross. Death seemed to prevail.

And just as many saw Jesus as a failure on Good Friday, and didn’t realize the gift God was giving to humanity, many still have a hard time seeing Jesus in our world today. Sometimes that is even true for us as Christians. So what happens? People don’t lose the faith entirely, but gradually over time people can turn inward, focusing on the things that bring them away from Christ. One sin becomes another, and another. Or we might focus on filling our lives with possessions, making them a golden calf; or perhaps even fill our lives with excuses for not praying, for not going to Church or giving of our time or treasures to charity. So many things compete for our attention to take it from God, and indeed it is good to have things, and enjoy things whether it’s golf clubs or shopping malls, but for us all, what we have to remember is try as we might, we just are not going to find the fountain of youth, or heaven here on earth. The closest we will get to heaven isn’t Augusta National Golf Course, or Paris: the closest we can get encountering God in the Eucharist – where we have that encounter with Christ, and hopefully allow His grace to transform us; in the Word of God and in our prayer, and in our experiences with one another, the daughters and sons of God, the Body of Christ, which is what the Eucharist symbolizes.

The Lent, we are invited once more to re-evaluate our priorities, and our relationship to God and one another. Lent sometimes can give us a very negative feel, and at times the focus can be entirely on giving things up, such as candy, or maybe dessert. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I don’t think the primary focus should be on giving things up. Rather, a better focus is found in our second reading, where we are called to be ambassadors for Christ, and to be reconciled to God. Sometimes it can be tempting to make our penitential practices as obvious as the ashes on our foreheads, and tell as many people as we can about how we are giving up this or that. If you choose to give something up, that can be a good idea if it is something you think you cling to that takes you away from God. But another good idea is to focus on those words of Paul: “be reconciled to God.” We also hear from our first reading from the prophet Joel “return to me with all your heart,” in many ways similar to what is said as ashes are distributed: “turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel.” We do that by trying to transform our lives by helping one another, or spending more moments in prayer with God, turning to Him and realizing that only He will see us through.

Our reading from Joel picks up shortly after a locust attack has ravaged Judah, symbolizing the coming day of the Lord. The prophet then summons the people to repent. Ultimately, their prayer is answered and the Lord promises to drive away the locusts and deliver the people.

And so, too, will the Lord deliver us. The key though is to keep our eyes fixed on Him. I’ve never experienced a locust attack, but if you’ve seen them depicted in the movies, they are often quite severe, sometimes so thick that they block out the sun. In the midst of one, I would suspect people are terrified, and perhaps despair over the loss of all of their harvest. And while I haven’t seen a locust attack, all of us have seen a sin attack. Much like a locust attack, the attack of sin in our lives can blot out God’s face, and all can seem lost. But we know better. God delivered Israel, and He will deliver you and me too. We just have to turn to Him. And in turn, may we help deliver others from sin too by truly being ambassadors of Christ for them this Lent.

I hope you have a blessed, and fruitful Lent. To borrow a term from my favorite seminary prof, hopefully we don’t give up just the foam on our Michelob this Lent, but give up all that keeps us from loving God and one another as we should, realizing that while we may return to ashes one day, and while the palms from Palm Sunday may fade, the power of God, and His love, never do. Hopefully we can always trust in that, turning to ashes the sins and things in our life that keep us from loving God fully, and trust in Him, rather than just ourselves – realizing that God’s love will see us through.

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Prudent giving

January 08th 2008 Posted to Uncategorized

Americans are known to give a lot of money to charity. In 2005, for example, individuals contributed a whopping $199 billion dollars. Not bad at all.

However, many can be a bit confused at what is meant by the term “charity.” Charity, in the Christian sense, really comes down to love. Giving alms is just a tiny part of it.

Many people can also feel overwhelmed. I suspect in November and December more than one person received Christmas cards mailed to them with an envelope enclosed. Pleas for money can and do continue through the year, and many of us have friends or family who also ask for money.

I hope people do give of their excess - it’s a good idea to donate to charity. And if someone gives nothing and has plenty to give, that’s something to take a look at. But some instinctively reach for the checkbook without checking out who or what organization is asking for the money. Others might feel guilty for not giving, or saying no. The thing of it is, I think at times we do have to say no. Maybe we are going through a tough time financially, or just need to save up some extra money, or are already donating to other charities and can’t afford to give extra right now.

Ten percent gets thrown around as a “tithing” number, but I don’t think we should get into specific numbers. It really comes down to individual circumstances - what does a person have, and what are the needs right now. It’s also OK for one to buy things and enjoy things too with their money - we all need a vacation from time to time, and there’s nothing wrong either with having some toys. Of course, if all of the money goes to toys and none to charity or giving of our time, that’s something to evaluate too, as we don’t want the toys to become a “golden calf.” Finding the right balance is important.

So too, do I think we can live out Christian charity in more ways than one. Sometimes we will donate; but donating time is a good idea too. Time can be much more valuable than money, and to give of it by helping those in need, such as going to Sharing and Caring hands, or even serving at the parish, or by giving of our time to our families by going to those Little League games and helping a daughter or son get ready for that history test in the morning, this too is living out Christian charity.

In sum, I think we have to be a balance between Scrooge and Santa - and let’s not forget, even Santa gives out coal every once in a while, as it’s a matter of justice. As such, we owe it to ourselves to check out who or what organization is coming to us for money, because there are those out there who, sadly, just use others for their own benefit.

Our reading from Mass this past Monday was a reminder of that, especially this line from 1 John:

Beloved, do not trust every spirit but test the spirits to see whether they belong to God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.

Here’s a link too to www.give.org. It’s affiliated with the Better Business Bureau, and allows you to get some information on charities and helps people make more informed decisions. You’ll find a ton of useful information here, such as where the money goes, contact information on the charity, along with many other things. (The BBB also has a nice web site too when looking up information on businesses you want to patronize).

So, if you are giving, that’s great and I hope you keep it up. And if you are looking at other charities to give to, that’s wonderful too. But sometimes you have to say “no” too - and if one has to say “no” to a charity because they are in a bad way, or prefer to give elsewhere, I think that’s using prudence wisely.
Here are the readings for the day, and a link to them:
1 Jn. 3:22-4:6; Psalms 2:7bc-8, 10-12a; and Mt 4:12-17, 23-25

And finally, here was the homily I preached for the day:

******

During yesterday’s feast of the Epiphany, I reflected briefly on one of the gifts that the Magi, and all of humanity are given: that of wisdom, which makes humans unique among all other animals on the planet.

It’s admittedly something that is easy to take for granted, but something that we have to be aware of and hopefully we use. And when it comes to wisdom, it doesn’t mean just reading about theology and growing in the faith, but also growing in our ability to ascertain the right answer to the question: is this person telling the truth?

In our reading from the first letter of John today, the author states: “…test the spirits to see whether they belong to God, because many false prophets have gone into the world.” I think these words are so important for us, because at times we may feel guilty to put things and people to the test, or similarly we also might do something quickly without thinking twice about it, such as giving to charity after charity.

First, with people, what it is important to remember is that justice comes first, and then if there is room for it, charity. That might sound cold, but it makes perfect sense. Take something simple like taxes, which we will all be doing shortly now that it’s 2008. We have to pay our taxes to the State, or else we will go to jail. And while we can and should argue and discuss tax policy, without taxes we couldn’t pay for police, road maintenance, or other things that the common good needs. For many people, that’s a high burden; and they need the rest of the money to support their families, to pay for a car or the mortgage, or just need to save money up in the bank for retirement, or for a rainy day. When we have money to give, we should share it and give to those in need, but how much becomes a very gray matter, and is unique to the individual. I don’t think one should have excessive guilt if they decide to save for a vacation, or donate to the 401K or short-sell Motorola with their money, but we should give at least something. And it need not always be money – indeed it can be time too.

But when we get to that giving part, that is why that verse from our reading this morning is so important. It’s a misstatement to say “money is the root of all evil,” for the verse states is “the love of money is the root of all sorts of evil,” and believe me, love of money is out there. As evidence of that, take a look at tele-evangelism. There are some preachers out there who do good work and are indeed genuine; I think for instance Mother Angelica and the EWTN network genuinely aren’t in it just for the money. But indeed, many are in it just for the money. And that is why it is so important to put people who come to us with a request for money to a test, rather than just whip out the checkbook as a reflex because we feel guilty. A good idea is to pray about it when someone asks us for money; look at where the rest of our money is going, and also talk to those whom we trust most – does this sound like a good idea, or a worthy cause?

And finally, we have to remember that we have responsibilities to our families first. While it is great to give, we also have to use that virtue of prudence we are given, which the catechism calls the “charioteer” virtue – the one that guides the rest. If we have a house payment, or other outstanding bills, or are choosing between paying down our debt or giving to someone, we may have to put off charitable gifts until the bills are paid.
It is true there is a lot of need out there. If someone we care about is in a real, genuine need and comes to us for help, I’d hope we’d help them. But sadly, some can abuse the system too. And I suspect if you have given to a charity, your name is on multiple mailing lists, and day after day in December you got requests in the mail for money, or Christmas cards sent to you. Similarly, many of us encounter people in life who ask us for money. I think it’s wonderful to reach out and help when we can, but we also always have to look before we leap, and also make sure who or what organization we are giving to will use the money prudently, and indeed belongs to God rather than their own selfish interests.

May we never forget that we are called to give of our time, talent and treasure to God, and that giving doesn’t always entail writing a check. “No” is a valid, and sometimes acceptable answer – and while it can be tough to say, at times we just have to do it. But we can also give in so many other ways too, by praying for those in need, and by giving of our time to help them find assistance or reaching out to those in need through volunteering too. Hopefully in our lives, we can find the right balance of all three. A little prudence can go a long way in helping
us do just that!

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A proper perspective on our Redeemer

January 02nd 2008 Posted to Uncategorized

I hope you have had a blessed Christmas and the New Year is off to a great start.

The Christmas season celebrates God dwelling with us - the Incarnation. But trying to figure out the answer to the question “who is Jesus Christ” is something that the early Church grappled with for centuries. And indeed, we continue to interpret and understand revelation.

At daily Mass on Tuesday, January 2nd, we had the memorial of two saints, Gregory Nazianzen and Basil the Great. I had to look these guys up, as I didn’t know much on them, but I found out they were good friends, and one of the things they had to deal with was Arianism, one of the early heresies which held that the Son was created by the Father, and could be inferior.

Gregory and Basil arrive on the scene in the fourth century, but even before this we have some confusion and some dissidents. Hence, in our reading from the day, the author of 1 John writes: “Anyone who denies the Son does not have the Father; but whoever confesses the Son has the Father as well.” Obviously it takes some time for a consensus on seeing Jesus as both Divine and Human.

And if you think about it, I bet we struggle with that today. Sometimes we emphasize one aspect of Jesus, but we have to have a balanced view of our Redeemer, and I think it’s good to reflect on both His humanity and divinity.

Here’s my homily from January 2nd, which tries to do that a little.

The readings for the day (with the link below)
1 Jn. 2:22-28; Ps. 98:1, 2-3ab, 3cd-4; John 1:19-28.

http://www.usccb.org/nab/010208.shtml

Here is the homily I preached:

****

During our first year of theology, one of the courses that we were required to take was Christology. As the title suggests, the course spent time asking the question “who is Jesus Christ?” Obviously, its such a deep question that it required spending a semester examining it. And we may forget that while we believe that Jesus is God dwelling among us, coming to understand revelation is something we continue to do as a Church. And answering that question “who is Jesus” is something that took the early Church years to figure out fully. Yes, we certainly believed Him to be God – but there were also various heresies that emerged. And if you think about it, today, some of us may still have trouble answering that question “who is Jesus Christ.”

This Christmas Season has given us the chance to reflect on the Incarnation, and hopefully we do so with a balanced view of Christ. From our reading this morning, the author states that anyone who denies the Son denies the Father. He does this because at this point, the orthodox position is struggling with those who have differing views of God. Some see Jesus as significant, but struggle seeing Him as God.

The situation would still be troublesome in the fourth century, the time when the two saints we honor today, Gregory of Nazianzus and Basil the Great, both doctors of the Church and two close friends who would eventually become bishops. During their lifetime, the persecutions had eased, but trouble was everywhere. Julian the Apostate was emperor of Rome, the last pagan to be emperor, and was opposed to Christianity. There were no mass executions, but he was hostile to the Church. As such, when Gregory wrote a work that questioned the emperors intellect and said that the Christianity would overcome imperfect rulers, one can understand how it might not be well-received. Gregory was in the emperors cross-hairs, but the emperor died shortly thereafter while on a campaign.

The successor of Julian, the emperor Jovian, was a supporter of the Church, but this didn’t mean all was well. The Church was being torn apart in some regions such as Cappadocia, where Gregory lived, by Arianism, which questioned Jesus being divine. Both Gregory and Basil fought against this, including having a rhetorical contest with Arian theologians that was presided over by the emperor’s agents, from which Gregory and Basil emerged triumphant. Later in life, Gregory would strive to bring Constantinople to the orthodox position.

However, both of these men were also not exclusively devoted to theology of books. Gregory inherited money from his parents, which he promptly donated most of to the needy. Basil would organize a soup kitchen and distribute food to the poor during a famine and following a drought. So, too, did Basil speak out against injustice of public officials, and built a complex that included a hospice, hospital and poorhouse.

Like so many of the saints, these two friends contributed much to our understanding of the faith, and also lived it out. And if you think about it, it’s only with a balanced view of Jesus that one can do that. If we focus on just the divinity of Christ, it might be hard to see Him as someone we can have a real relationship with. We also might not appreciate the need to speak out against injustice, or assist those in need, as God might seem somehow distant and far away, rather than as one who is among the poor and needy time and time again in the Gospels. On the flip side, if we focus just on the humanity of Jesus, and go the way the Arian’s wanted to take us, what does that say about what happened on the Cross? It diminishes the significance of Calvary. If we lose sight of the Divinity of Jesus, than we forget John’s prologue – the Word becoming flesh, and dwelling among us. God Himself has entered into our humanity, walked among us, died for us, and sends His Spirit to dwell with us still. That is why these holy men we honor today fought so hard to have a proper view of God, and why the Incarnation is so
significant. Unlike the theological debate that Gregory and Basil were in where the representatives of the emperor showed up, what happened in Bethlehem some 2000 years ago wasn’t just a representative of God coming to earth, or just a prophet, but God Himself.

Hopefully as we go throughout our time on this earth, we can always be guided by that balanced view of our God. I once told a confessor about 10 years ago that Jesus was my best friend. And he agreed with me. That sounds nice, and is in many ways true – we can have a friendship with Christ, but beyond that Jesus is also our redeemer. My best friend on earth knows me very well, but can’t change my relationship with God. Only God Himself can do that by reaching out to me. And He has, just as He has reached out to us all. May we enter into a true relationship with Him, our best friend and our Redeemer, and always strive to help others see the fullness of that relationship and how beautiful it can be.

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Searching for peace

December 03rd 2007 Posted to Uncategorized

Advent is here yet again, but how do we deal with it? Christmas is celebrated on December 25th, but as soon as the calendar turns to November the stores put away the Halloween stuff and put up the Christmas merchandise.

I have no problem getting into Christmas a little early. I used to get the tree with my dad in early December as a kid, before we eventually went the fake-tree route, and I’ve put up a small tree in my room and another tree in my sitting room at the rectory. It’s nice to see decorations up around town and nice to see people looking forward to celebrating Christmas.

Advent though brings us up to Christmas, and is described by the Fr. Peter John Cameron, O.P. writing in Mangificat (a monthly magazine I get with the readings in it for each day, along with some reflections) as a season sometimes referred to as a journey. He writes “Advent is like this. We know our heart is waiting for Someone in whom we will find all the fulfillment and meaning we lack in our life. But Christmas does not happen instantaneously. Gradually, we are introduced and come to know the One who comes to save us from our fragility. The Advent journey is that sequence of graced “confirmations” that readies us for the One who, the night before he dies, will call us ‘Friend.’” It’s a good image, and to it I’d just emphasize hope and peace too in that Someone: Jesus. Hopefully it’s a season guided by hope that we will enjoy the peace of Christmas, where we will welcome our Redeemer into our hearts once more, and keep that peace throughout the year.

Readings from Isaiah are commonplace during Advent, and on Tuesday, December 4th, I talked (or will talk as at the time of this writing) about peace, of how it’s something we all want, and something ideally we experience in childhood. The readings that day brought to mind images from an experience I had recently having lunch with some of the school kids, which was great as the turkey sandwich was good, but more than that just being with the kids was fantastic.

Here’s a link to the readings for the day, Isaiah 10:6-10(a), Ps 23:1-3a, 3b-4, 5, 6 and Matthew 15:29-37:

http://www.usccb.org/nab/120507.shtml

Here’s my homily for the day:

After glancing at the school lunch menu and learning turkey sandwiches were being served, I made my way there with haste one day last week. It was my second time going there, and
eating with the kids is quite fun, albeit a bit awkward as everyone wants you to sit with them, and is sort of an introvert’s nightmare. Nonetheless, I made my way to one of the tables, and had a nice time hanging out with some of the younger men of our parish community, where we talked a little about football.

It was a fun time, and if you want a word to describe the situation, I’d actually use “peaceful.”
Now it certainly doesn’t seem that way on the outside looking in – one walking by would hear countless voices chattering away, but I’d say it was peaceful in that most of the kids seemed to be at ease, enjoying that sanctuary in the middle of the day that is lunch, where they don’t have to worry about schoolwork, tests and talking out of turn for a few minutes and where kids can just be kids.

The thing of it is though, is those kids all have to leave the lunchroom. And for the most part, I think they enjoy being a part of Holy Name of Jesus school. But I wonder what kind of lives will be ahead of them. Homework seems to increase and increase, as do demands on children. We get them involved in multiple sports leagues, after-school activities, expect them to keep up their grades, so it seems that more and more we have 11-year olds who are great at multi-tasking and using a cell phone, but maybe not so great at just being able to enjoy their childhood.

Now don’t get me wrong: I think if a child wants to play sports or be in theater or the band, that’s fantastic. The key word though is “wants,” and making sure it’s what the child wants, and not what a parent, peer, or society wants. Obviously I will never have children, but from the outside looking in, it seems that society today tries to put more and more pressure on kids, and chips away at childhood so the peace of that time that should be there is harmed, both by society, pressures at home, and even pressures at school from peers and bullying.

What I think made those kids so at ease at lunch was they could be themselves and be at peace, and it’s really not that much of a stretch to say that is what we all want. That’s certainly what we get in our readings today, where we have that image of the future from Isaiah of the peaceful Kingdom of God, and in our Gospel where Jesus likens the disciples to little ones, for that is how we are to receive God as well – as a child, with a peace and a trust, and with a willingness to open ourselves up to come to know him.

One thing that was so great about being with those kids was the fact that I felt received perhaps as a bit of a pseudo-celebrity at first, but they seemed to feel at ease around me. That’s why a little girl felt no problem coming up to me and saying “my friend wants to know how come you always sit with the boys?” (Next time I will make sure to alternate who I sit with). That’s why we could talk about football. Yes, I might be a priest and have studied some more theology than they have, but we are both baptized children of God, both equal in dignity through our humanity, and both want peace in our lives.

And yet, we both had to leave that lunchroom, me to go back to the office, they to their classrooms, just as we have to leave the peacefulness of our sanctuary this morning and go back out into the world to live another day. The challenge though for us is to truly always receive God into our hearts just as a child, knowing that we can always run into the loving arms of our God. As we continue through Advent, a season that ideally is one of peace but so often is a time of busyness and stress, may we be guided by that trust, always striving to increase the peace in our lives and to help ourselves and others find the way to
the place where lunch will never end: heaven.

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