Parchment and Papyrus

Basing our faith on a Person rather than a piece of paper

04/26/2018

John 13:16-20 When Jesus had washed the disciples' feet, he said to them: "Amen, amen, I say to you, no slave is greater than his master nor any messenger greater than the one who sent him. If you understand this, blessed are you if you do it. I am not speaking of all of you. I know those whom I have chosen. But so that the Scripture might be fulfilled, The one who ate my food has raised his heel against me. From now on I am telling you before it happens, so that when it happens you may believe that I AM. Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever receives the one I send receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me."

What would your life be like without the New Testament? What if all you had to feed your faith was the Old Testament? Would we all be Jews? Before we can answer that question, what do we mean by the term “New Testament”? Most Christians would probably reply the New Testament is roughly the second half of the Bible comprised of twenty-seven books. And that’s certainly true enough. But what would the Christians answer who lived for three hundred years before the official canon of the New Testament was finalized by the end of the fourth century? For the first three hundred years of Christian history – which is longer than the entire history of the United States – there was neither the King James Version nor the RSVCE (Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition) of the Bible. So what did those poor people have to discuss in their Wednesday evening Bible study class?

To put it simply, those early Christians’ faith was not based on a piece of paper, but on a Person, namely, Jesus. In a fascinating little book called Consuming the Word, Scott Hahn observes insightfully: “The content of the Gospel is quite simply Jesus. He represents the fulfillment and a kingdom. He is the Gospel long before the literary Gospels were written. He himself is the canon long before the official canon came into being.” He continues: “Christians preached this Good News and proclaimed it and lived it out long before anyone wrote a word of it down on parchment or papyrus” (Consuming the Word, 15, emphasis in original). In other words, the term “New Testament” for the early Christians, which inspired their life as well as their death, was the Person of Jesus Christ. That is the most ancient and authentic meaning of the term “New Testament.”

In the Acts of the Apostles, St. Paul goes to Antioch and attends a synagogue service. We read: “On the sabbath they entered into the synagogue and took their seats. After the reading of the law and the prophets, the synagogue official sent word to them, ‘My brothers, if one of you has a word of exhortation for the people, please speak’.” And what did Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles, do? Did he reach into his back pocket and pull out his concise New Testament and quote from Matthew, Mark, Luke and John? No. He spoke eloquently about Jesus, a Person who profoundly changed his life, and the One who fulfilled all the aspirations of the Old Testament. Jesus is the New Testament.

In the gospel of John, Jesus washes his disciples’ feet and then adds: “So that the Scriptures might be fulfilled, the one who ate my food has raised his heel against me.” When Jesus uses the word “Scriptures” he can only mean the Old Testament. Why? Because he himself is the New Testament. If you had asked St. Paul or Jesus or any early Christian what does the term “New Testament” mean? They would never have answered, “Roughly the second half of the Bible comprised of twenty-seven books.” They would always have said, “What a silly question! The New Testament is Jesus, of course.” They always fed their faith with a Person, not with parchment and papyrus.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not trying to denigrate the Scriptures, or discourage you from attending Bible study or say the Scriptures are unimportant for our faith in Jesus. My Scripture professor in the seminary was fond of saying, “There is Scripture and everything else is commentary.” That comment was a jab at the other theology departments, suggesting that Scripture study is superior, and everything else secondary. St. Jerome, who translated the entire Bible from Hebrew and Greek into Latin in the fourth century, famously said: “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.” So, go full-throttle in Bible study, memorize Scripture passages, treat your Bible with the reverence and respect it deserves as the inspired word of God. But at the end of the day, realize that even if you didn’t have a Bible you could still be saved. Salvation does not come from parchment and papyrus but from the Person of Jesus.

If anyone asks you again what does the term “New Testament” mean, I hope you can now reply: “Originally, and most authentically, the New Testament was the Person of Jesus Christ.” Scott Hahn insists that would be the answer you would get from the written version of the New Testament itself. He asserts: “In the texts of the New Testament, then, ‘New Testament’ denotes not a text, but an action – not a document but a sacrament.” We do not feed our faith on parchment and papyrus but on a Person named Jesus Christ.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Tremendous Trust

Building a relationship on the bedrock of trust

04/25/2018

1 Peter 5:5B-14 Beloved:  Clothe yourselves with humility in your dealings with one another, for: God opposes the proud but bestows favor on the humble. So humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time. Cast all your worries upon him because he cares for you. I write you this briefly through Silvanus, whom I consider a faithful brother, exhorting you and testifying that this is the true grace of God. Remain firm in it. The chosen one at Babylon sends you greeting, as does Mark, my son. Greet one another with a loving kiss. Peace to all of you who are in Christ.

The bedrock of any true friendship – indeed of any real relationship – is trust. But what is trust? I believe trust exists when you allow someone to see your weaknesses and warts knowing they will still love you. Everyone wants to look like “the knight in shining armor,” and hide our imperfections. That’s why we put on make-up, wear starched clothes, color our gray hair, and suck in our gut when someone takes our picture. The knight in armor doesn’t need to trust anyone because his armor protects him from people’s swords and arrows that might hurt him. Trust only emerges when we remove the armor and stand exposed to another’s gaze and let them see the fragile and fallible person inside. If you can’t let someone see the real you, you don’t trust them.

Let me use myself as an example. Yesterday I went to lunch with a friend named “Bill.” We got into his car and he asked me, “What do you feel like eating?” I answered, “Well, I don’t really care, but let’s go someone where there are cushioned seats because I have a bony butt.” He laughed and said, “Okay, I will buy you one of those donuts to sit on. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” That’s a simple illustration of trust. I know you all think I am the knight in shining armor but for a brief moment I removed the armor and let Bill see the human being (with a bony butt) inside. I trust Bill because I know he loves me not for my shiny armor, and not in spite of my physical imperfections, but because he sees my heart and character. Only when you trust someone enough to tell them about your bony butt is a friendship born.

I love the feast of St. Mark every year on April 25 because his friendship with St. Peter was also built on the bedrock of trust. At the end of St. Peter’s first letter he says: “The chosen one at Babylon sends you greetings, as does Mark, my son.” St. Peter was a close friend of St. Mark’s and he served as a primary source for Mark’s gospel. Peter trusted Mark implicitly and did not conceal embarrassing episodes about his blunders as an apostle, how he often put his foot in his mouth. Peter removed his shining armor and let Mark see the humble human being inside. Peter trusted Mark.

Mark, for his part, loved Peter, not because Peter was the first pope, or the rock on which Jesus would build his Church, or even in spite of his faults and failings, but because Mark saw Peter’s heart that loved Jesus more than life itself. Inspired by Peter’s trust, Mark in turn would recount his own embarrassing episode in the Garden of Gethsemane when a soldier grabbed his cloak and Mark wrestled free and ran off naked. Where there is no trust there is no friendship.

One of the things that makes Trinity such a special school is we try to teach you to trust each other. And trust means taking off your armor and letting someone see the real you. We make you wear uniforms so you can’t hide behind designer clothes and jewelry. We make you read and serve and sing at Mass and maybe you mess up. But we hope you trust us enough to love you even when you blunder. You try out for track and tennis and trombone, and you learn to trust that your Trinity classmates will love you regardless of how you perform. You may tell someone about a physical imperfection you have, or a family failing or an embarrassing story and trust they will still love you. And at Trinity we love you not for your shining armor, or in spite of your foibles and failures, but because we see your heart. And even more because we see Jesus in you.

That’s what makes a Catholic school unique: we teach you to see beyond the shining armor, beyond the blunders, and even beyond the personality. We teach you to see Jesus in each person. And when you see Jesus in every person it’s a lot easier to trust them because you believe they will not hurt you. That’s why the friendships you make at Trinity will last the rest of your life.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Thin Line

Accepting the reform of behavior but not of beliefs

04/24/2018

Acts of the apostles 11:1-18 The Apostles and the brothers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles too had accepted the word of God. So when Peter went up to Jerusalem the circumcised believers confronted him, saying, 'You entered the house of uncircumcised people and ate with them." Peter began and explained it to them step by step, saying, "I was at prayer in the city of Joppa when in a trance I had a vision, something resembling a large sheet coming down, lowered from the sky by its four corners, and it came to me. Looking intently into it, I observed and saw the four-legged animals of the earth, the wild beasts, the reptiles, and the birds of the sky. I also heard a voice say to me, 'Get up, Peter. Slaughter and eat.' But I said, 'Certainly not, sir, because nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.' But a second time a voice from heaven answered, 'What God has made clean, you are not to call profane.' This happened three times, and then everything was drawn up again into the sky. Just then three men appeared at the house where we were, who had been sent to me from Caesarea. The Spirit told me to accompany them without discriminating.

At critical junctures in Church history great reformers have arisen to put the Church back on track. These were visionary men and women unafraid to challenge church authority, even that of the pope, calling them to live a more authentic Christianity. But sometimes, in their zeal they shot their arrows of reform at the wrong targets. Instead of directing their criticism to how Christians behaved (which can always stand improvement), they criticized what the Church believed (which remains intact and inviolate down the centuries). There is a very thin line between behavior and belief.

Perhaps the most glaring case in point was the Protestant Reformation, where this thin line was crossed. Martin Luther was right regarding reforming the behavior of Catholics, including some popes, but he was mistaken about changing beliefs. He sort of tripped over that thin line between behavior and belief. Unfortunately, he was not content to call out the Church’s lack of fidelity to the gospel, he went so far as to question the faith itself. There was nothing wrong with the faith of the Church, but there was plenty wrong with how Christians practiced that faith. This pattern of needing to reform the right things is repeated again and again in Church history.

The first reading from the Acts of the Apostles describes the effort of the first pope, St. Peter, to reform the behavior of Christians, but not belief. Arguably, the first great controversy to confront Christians was whether or not to include gentiles (that is, non-Jews) in the ranks of the saved. That may seem nonsensical to us because we welcome everyone who wants to be Christian into the Church, regardless of race, color or creed. But that particular Church practice of including only Jews needed to be reformed. St. Peter enters the home of some uncircumcised people (non-Jews) and shares a meal with them. But Jewish Christians questioned him. St. Peter answers them: “The Spirit told me to accompany them without discriminating.” In other words, the gospel is good news for everyone, not just a chosen few. The first pope was an authentic reformer: changing bad behavior but not the beauty of belief. He didn’t trip over that thin line separating the two.

I think this is the perspective from which we need to see the past five years of Pope Francis’ pontificate. From his first year in the papacy Pope Francis has called Catholics to a “missionary transformation.” That is, a different approach to practicing our faith, in a “missionary key” as he often says, but not to change the faith itself. The symphony of sanctity can be sounded in many keys, but the conductor is always faith. The pope wants to change our behavior not our beliefs. The hard part is knowing where that thin line is between behavior and belief. Conservative Catholics might accuse the pope of already crossing that line, and they want to reel him back in. Liberal Catholics might say the pope still has a long way to go to get to that line, and cheer him on for more.

My suggestion to you would be don’t worry about what the pope is doing but worry about what you are doing. In other words, each Catholic needs to examine his or her own faith life and see if our behavior lines up with our beliefs. Do we practice what we preach? The conversion of the world to Christ – which is the heart of every genuine reform – depends far more on Christian behavior than on Christian belief. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. And when people leave the Church, what do they invariably point to as the culprit? It is how Catholics behave not so much what Catholics believe.

Today,  let us thank God for all the great reformers he has sent over the centuries, including the one occupying the Chair of St. Peter today, Pope Francis. And let us pray that all reformers help us abandon our bad behavior, but never our beautiful beliefs.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Overpaid and Underworked

Being motivated by love of Christ rather than money

04/22/2018

John 10:11-18 Jesus said: "I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf catches and scatters them. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd. This is why the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again. This command I have received from my Father."

Is it better to work for pay or to work for peanuts, that is, to work for free? Most people would answer it is better to get paid for your work. Otherwise, as the saying goes, you get what you pay for. If you pay very little, you will get very little in return. There’s a very prevalent attitude that unthinkingly accepts that the more expensive an item is the more valuable it must be. Inversely, the cheaper the price tag, the lower the quality. Have you ever thought that when buying a new phone or a purse or a car? More money equals better stuff.

But in the church the opposite principle prevails in how we pay people. Do you know how much priests are paid in salary each month? We make a whopping $900 per month, which comes to a little over $10,000 a year. When you consider that I am the veritable CEO of three multimillion dollar organizations (sorry, not Our Lady of the Ozarks in Winslow), but I.C. Church, I.C. School and Trinity Junior High, many people would be shocked. I oversee combined budgets of over $4,500,000 and I am paid less than the least paid employee. Didn’t we abolish slavery by the thirteenth amendment?

One day a small boy told me after Mass he wanted to be a priest. I was pleased and asked him what inspired him. He answered that every Sunday in the middle of Mass he watched the usher bring a large basket full of money to give to me, and he wanted to make that much money, too. He meant the Sunday collection. I smiled and said, “I get paid a lot more than that.” And I wasn’t lying. My salary is not a paycheck, my reward is love. I wouldn’t be a priest for all the money in the world, but I would do this for love, the love of Jesus. One of my favorite Scriptures passages is 2 Corinthians 5:14, which reads: “Caritas Christi urget nos,” meaning, “the love of Christ compels us.” Indeed, I always feel like I’m being over paid for what I little I do. When the love of Jesus is our reward, every priest is overpaid and underworked. Love is the paycheck of the priest.

In the tenth chapter of John, Jesus tips his hand and reveals what he thinks about working for pay or for peanuts. Jesus explains the “modus operandi” (way of working) of the Good Shepherd. He says: “A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man…sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep.”  When it comes to the behavior of spiritual shepherd – that is, priests – you don’t always get what you pay for. When money is the motive you get the minimum; no one will die for money because you can’t spend it if you’re dead.  But when love in involved you get the maximum, even to giving one’s life, because love lasts beyond the grave.

Let me clarify that Jesus is not commenting on economic systems of capitalism or communism, criticizing one and extolling the other. Rather, he is setting the standard of behavior of his shepherds, whose motive should be love for the sheep not the size of their paychecks. I guess that means I don’t need to ask the bishop for a raise any time soon.

I believe we can apply this same spiritual principle of payment to the practical faith of all Catholics; not only to shepherds but also to sheep. If we are not vigilant a consumer mentality can creep into our Catholicism. You may not be a priest who pines for a paycheck, but you might complain about not getting anything out of the Mass. Have you ever heard that critical comment? But that concern is born in a heart that sees spirituality as a “quid pro quo.” I give you an hour on Sunday, Lord, and what do I get in return? The heart that loves, on the other hand, says, I am glad I could spend an hour with Jesus today, and I only wish I could have stayed a little longer. Love doesn’t ask what I get, but rather what can I give.

Have you ever looked at prayer like a business proposition? I said my rosary or novena, but why didn’t I get what I prayed for? Maybe I need to say more prayers or different prayers to get the answer I want.  My pay scale must be off. But the Christian moved by love offers prayers not only of petition (asking for something) but also prayers of praise, prayers of thanksgiving and prayers for mercy.  Prayer motivated by love has very little to do with what I can get but everything to do with what I can give.

We can even have this “pay to play mentality” with other people. Some ask what good are the elderly or the homeless or the immigrants or the unborn or the refugees to the society as a whole? What do we get from them? They are only a drain on the economy. But a heart that is moved by love looks upon the vulnerable as Jesus’ little brothers and sisters and takes care of them without counting the cost. Loving one’s neighbor isn’t about what I get from them, but what I can give to them.

In a word, be careful not to calculate the cost of your Christianity. In the natural world you get what you pay for, and that’s a good thing; it keeps people honest and hard-working. But in the spiritual world you never get what you pay for; indeed, you always get far more than you deserve.  Why?  Because “caritas Christi urget nos” (the love of Christ compels us). When Jesus’ love is our paycheck, we are always overpaid and underworked.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Crisis Point

Seeing a crisis as an opportunity to believe more firmly in Jesus

04/21/2018

John 6:60-69 Many of the disciples of Jesus who were listening said, "This saying is hard; who can accept it?" Since Jesus knew that his disciples were murmuring about this, he said to them, "Does this shock you? What if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the Spirit that gives life, while the flesh is of no avail. The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and life. But there are some of you who do not believe." Jesus knew from the beginning the ones who would not believe and the one who would betray him. And he said, "For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by my Father." As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer walked with him. Jesus then said to the Twelve, "Do you also want to leave?" Simon Peter answered him, "Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God."

Are you familiar with the etymology (the roots) of the word “crisis”? Now, most people think of a crisis as a bad thing, like a political crisis, or a midlife crisis, or the financial crisis of 2008. That is the modern connotation of the word. However, that was not its original meaning. Crisis comes from Greek and means “the turning point, for better or worse, of a disease.” Think of a fever that leaves you miserable and moaning in your bed praying for relief. The moment at which the fever breaks and you feel human again is the crisis point in that illness. In this sense – the original sense – a crisis can be a good thing. It is a turning point and decision point full of the hope of healing.

Jesus seems to be especially adept at pushing people to crisis points in the gospel, and John chapter six stands out as a supreme example. Jesus has just presented the people with perhaps his most controversial teaching. He declares that only those who eat his Body and drink his Blood will live forever. This teaching flew in the face of traditional Jewish belief about consuming blood, which was absolutely forbidden. Leviticus 7:26 strictly said: “You shall not eat any blood.” So it comes as no surprise that the devout Jews who were following Jesus said in the gospel: “This saying is hard, who can accept it?” And a few verses later we read: “As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer walked with him.” But not all of them made that choice. Simon Peter makes a bold profession of faith: “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Jesus sees all humanity as suffering from a serious spiritual fever and he wants that fever to break, to reach a crisis point. Sometimes the patient is healed (like the apostles), but sometimes the patient relapses (like the Jews who refused to believe). Apparently, Jesus seems convinced the cure of a crisis is worth the risk of relapse.

Try to bear in mind the original meaning of crisis whenever a serious crisis befalls you. That is, try to recognize that we all suffer from an acute illness, a fever, we are all spiritually sick. Robust physical health does not necessarily indicate a spiritually sound soul. Spiritual sickness is our normal condition when we are born. Theologically, we call that illness “original sin.” Even though original sin is washed away in baptism, the effects of sin remain, our tendency to sin. So, Jesus, the divine Physician, wants that spiritual fever to break and allows crises to occur in our life – a failed marriage, an illness like cancer, a lost job, the death of a loved one, a financial reversal, a broken friendship, an unplanned pregnancy, etc. We pray to God to succor us in our suffering, or we blame God for causing the crisis. We cry: “Just make the pain go away!” But do not forget the original – and truer – meaning of crisis: a turning point in an acute illness. This crisis point forces us to make a decision, and hopefully brings spiritual healing, as we decide to believe more firmly in Jesus.

Scott Hahn often observes: “God loves us just the way we are, but he loves us too much to let us stay that way.” Why doesn’t God just leave us alone? Well, because God, the divine Doctor, loves us too much to let us stay sick, so he brings our spiritual fever to the breaking point, a crisis. And offers us the hope of healing.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Intentional Discipleship

Taking the next step on the journey to Jesus

04/19/2018

Acts of the apostles 8:26-40 The angel of the Lord spoke to Philip, “Get up and head south on the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza, the desert route.” So he got up and set out.  Now there was an Ethiopian eunuch, a court official of the Candace, that is, the queen of the Ethiopians, in charge of her entire treasury, who had come to Jerusalem to worship, and was returning home. Seated in his chariot, he was reading the prophet Isaiah. The Spirit said to Philip, “Go and join up with that chariot.” Philip ran up and heard him reading Isaiah the prophet and said, “Do you understand what you are reading?” He replied, “How can I, unless someone instructs me?” So he invited Philip to get in and sit with him. This was the Scripture passage he was reading: Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter, and as a lamb before its shearer is silent, so he opened not his mouth. In his humiliation justice was denied him. Who will tell of his posterity? For his life is taken from the earth. Then the eunuch said to Philip in reply, “I beg you, about whom is the prophet saying this? About himself, or about someone else?” Then Philip opened his mouth and, beginning with this Scripture passage, he proclaimed Jesus to him. As they traveled along the road they came to some water, and the eunuch said, “Look, there is water. What is to prevent my being baptized?” Then he ordered the chariot to stop, and Philip and the eunuch both went down into the water, and he baptized him. When they came out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away, and the eunuch saw him no more, but continued on his way rejoicing.

I believe every man, woman and child who has ever lived is on a journey to Jesus. Now, sometimes that path is “explicit” as when someone knows Jesus and becomes his disciple formally and firmly. But sometimes it remains “implicit,” like when someone simply tries to lead a good life by obeying the voice of their conscience. Theologian Karl Rahner would call such a person an “anonymous Christian.” I recently read a book by Sherry Weddell where her explicit journey led her into the Catholic Church. It was not an easy journey. She writes candidly: “I had been raised as a strong anti-Catholic fundamentalist in southern Mississippi, and contemplating becoming Catholic was like considering become a Martian (Forming Intentional Disciples, 131). Now you know why so many people look at you funny.

Everyone’s explicit journey to Jesus seems to involve five thresholds or steps, as Weddell describes in her book. Let me touch on each briefly. First, trust. You first have to trust a Christian before you can trust Christ. I believe trust means knowing someone will not hurt you. Second, curiosity. Curiosity is testing the water with your big toe to see how cold it is, but you’re not sure you want to jump in the pool. Third, openness. This is the point where someone starts reading books on Catholicism, wants to have discussions with people about faith, and asks God for grace. Fourth, seeking. Sherry Weddell describes this step as “dating with a purpose, but not yet marriage.” This is the point when someone enters RCIA, and publicly (as well as personally) says they desire an explicit relationship with Jesus. And fifth, intentional discipleship. This step means I place Jesus at the top of my personal pyramid of priorities. I always try to please him more than anyone else. Changing metaphors, Jesus becomes the axis around which my world turns.

The first reading from Acts chapter 8 offers a perfect “case study” in these five thresholds and how Philip as a wise evangelizer knows and respects this process. An Ethiopian eunuch, in charge of the queen’s treasury (he was her CFO, chief financial officer) embarks on an explicit journey to Jesus. First, Philip establishes trust by engaging in simple conversation with the man. Second, the court official is curious so he has traveled to Jerusalem to worship, to see what they do in that great Temple (he probably sat in the very back of the temple). He’s testing the waters with his Ethiopian toes. Third, he’s reading Isaiah on his way home, and open to learning more about Judeo-Christianity. Fourth, he wants to talk to someone about his desire to know Jesus, and so he asks Philip to explain the passage in Isaiah. And fifth, he wants to take the plunge into the ocean of Christian discipleship and so he says: “Look, there is water. What is to prevent my being baptized?” The Ethiopian eunuch becomes an intentional disciple. This same patter and series of steps is repeated up and down the centuries as people journey to Jesus.

The question for each of us today is whether we have made our journey to Jesus explicit, or put another way, whether we are intentional disciples. This is no idle question, a lot hangs on our answer. Weddell makes this surprising but also sad observation: “One of the fascinating things you learn as you listen is that some baptized and catechized Catholics have not even progressed as far as simple trust (the first threshold), while some of the unbaptized are much further along” (Forming Intentional Disciples, 129). What a shocking but sadly true indictment. Could this be why so many Catholics stop going to Mass in their twenties and thirties? Is this why some people only come to church on Christmas and Easter? Could this be why so many evangelical and fundamentalist churches – that speak explicitly and eloquently about discipleship – are filled to the rafters with ex-Catholics? Could this explain why many Catholics just go through the motions of the Mass while their minds and hearts are a million miles away, like going through a car wash? Deposit your money and you come out clean on the other side, but no personal commitment to live a life radically conformed to Christ.

Follow the path of the Ethiopian eunuch and take the next step on the road to intentional discipleship.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Bread and Circuses

Seeking to satisfy our deeper needs in Jesus

04/18/2018

John 6:35-40 Jesus said to the crowds, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst. But I told you that although you have seen me, you do not believe. Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and I will not reject anyone who comes to me, because I came down from heaven not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me. And this is the will of the one who sent me, that I should not lose anything of what he gave me, but that I should raise it on the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day."

I am not a fan of the wildly popular movie trilogy “Hunger Games.” But I changed my mind about the movie when I learned that the country where the story takes place was called “Panem.” I was hooked. Why? Panem is a Latin word that means “bread.” But it was originally part of a longer phrase coined by the Roman poet Juvenal in the second century, when he wrote: “panem et circenses,” which literally means “bread and circuses.” In ancient Rome (when Juvenal lived), as the empire was eroding due to corruption, greed, gluttony and sex, those in power kept the populace happy by giving them bread and circuses, panem et circenses. When you look a little deeper at the plot of the movie Hunger Games, you’ll discover that’s what’s really going on in the fictional country of Panem: a corrupt government keeps people happy with bread and circuses. Katniss Everdeen and her friends are sort of “living bread” (panem) being sacrificed to entertain (circenses) the masses, the crowds.

But there is one hunger in the human heart that no government can satisfy, namely, love. No matter how much bread and how many circuses you throw at people, they still hunger for love, for friendship, for living and even dying for someone else. That greater truth about love allowed Katniss to defeat the Hunger Games and even bring down the government of Panem. People need more than bread and circuses; above all, they need love.

Today’s gospel is taken from the smack dab middle of John chapter 6, the great story of the multiplication of the loaves and feeding of the five thousand. After the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fish, do you remember what the people wanted to do to Jesus? They were ready to crown him king of Israel. Why? The people were clamoring, like the ancient Romans and the people of Panem: just give us more bread and circuses (more miracles), and we will be satisfied! But Jesus knew well the deeper hunger in the human heart, the hunger for love. And so he says in John 6:35, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger and whoever believes in me will never thirst.” Then he taught them about the Eucharist: eating his Body and drinking his Blood in Holy Communion. Jesus didn’t want to play “hunger games” with the people by pretending all they needed was more bread and circuses. He wanted to satisfy their greatest need for love and friendship by being their true Bread. Life is more than “panem et circenses.”

Boys and girls, what are you hungry for? Everyone’s mouth starts watering when it’s Chick-fil-A day for lunch. I am afraid some students might sell their souls for a Sonic drink, like Tommy Johnson in the movie “Oh Brother Where Art Thou.” Do you remember the African American man who sold his soul to the devil to learn to play the guitar? He explained to Delmar why he sold his soul saying, “I wasn’t using it.” Others don’t want “panem,” they want “circenses,” entertainment like modern day video games. Have you ever been so engrossed in a video game that you didn’t even want to eat or drink or sleep or even go to the bathroom? I sometimes worry that our great nation resembles more and more the people of Panem and the Republic of Rome, where people were content with “bread and circuses,” only satisfying their bodily and baser instincts.

But boys and girls, you have a deeper need than just to play hunger games – than to satisfy your hunger and play video games. That is the reason we celebrate Mass every week here at Trinity, as a reminder that Jesus alone is the Bread that satisfies us.  Each one of us has a need for love and friendship, and ultimately, a need for God’s love. That need is also a seed, a seed of greatness, that when it sprouts can grow into something larger than life. To love means to live for something bigger than yourself, to live for more than bread and circuses. That’s how Katniss Everdeen defeated the Hunger Games. And that’s how you and I will defeat the hunger games we play every day.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

R.I.P.

Seeking forgiveness with others before they die

04/17/2018

Acts of the Apostles 7:51—8:1A Stephen said to the people, the elders, and the scribes: "You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always oppose the Holy Spirit; you are just like your ancestors. When they heard this, they were infuriated, and they ground their teeth at him. But Stephen, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked up intently to heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God, and Stephen said, "Behold, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God." But they cried out in a loud voice, covered their ears, and rushed upon him together. They threw him out of the city, and began to stone him. The witnesses laid down their cloaks at the feet of a young man named Saul. As they were stoning Stephen, he called out, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Then he fell to his knees and cried out in a loud voice, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them"; and when he said this, he fell asleep. Now Saul was consenting to his execution.

Priests are often summoned to the beside of people who are seriously sick and dying. It is obviously a moment of grief and pending loss, but it can also be a time of grace and peace. How so? Usually, the last sense a dying person loses is their hearing, even though their eyes may be closed and they cannot eat or swallow or smell or touch. I invite the family and friends present to take turns approaching the dying patient and tell them they love them, and, if necessary (and it usually is), ask forgiveness for any past hurts. I explain that after someone passes such immediate contact and communication will be impossible and to take full advantage of this moment of grace.

I find it really sad, indeed almost tragic, when family members wait till someone is almost dead to call the priest. It’s very understandable that they wait till the last second to call me, because they believe they will upset the dying person or scare them by the sight of the priest. (Some of us priests are pretty scary looking.) But they have also deprived them of the duty to make peace with people they have walked through life with: to say “I am sorry,” or to say “I forgive you.” That’s why you see the traditional letters on a tombstone, “R.I.P” which stand for the Latin words “Requiescat in Pace,” or “Rest in Peace.” People who die will not rest in peace unless they first make peace with people they have hurt. If you want to watch a movie version of this truth, see “Sixth Sense.” The reason little Cole says, “I see dead people,” is because those dead people did not die in peace – they carried some unresolved problem to the grave – and so they cannot yet “requiescat in pace.”

In the Acts of the Apostles, we are all summoned to the bedside of a dying man, namely, St. Stephen. He is not in a hospital dying of cancer, but on the streets of Jerusalem and being stoned for believing in Jesus. As the rocks rained down, do you recall his final words? They were very powerful and filled with peace; Stephen said: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” Like I suggest to family and friends when someone is about to depart from this life, so St. Stephen made peace with people, even his persecutors. He forgave those who offended him, those who wanted to kill him. It is only because St. Stephen died in peace with people that he was able to rest in peace after death, “requiescat in pace.” I can’t help but believe that hearing those words of forgiveness didn’t strike a chord in Saul’s hard heart, and that later Jesus would make that chord of forgiveness the first note of a symphony of a saintly life. You’ll recall how Saul saw Jesus on the road to Damascus and heard the Lord ask: “Why are you persecuting me?” Saul should have sought peace with Stephen while he was alive.

Today, take two minutes to try to think of anyone who has hurt you or whom you have hurt. This is easy to do if you have ever loved another person. Human beings are broken beings, like a cracked Ming vase. If you get very close to one of them, their jagged edges will eventually cut you; they will hurt you and you will hurt them. Don’t enclose yourself in a cocoon of self-preservation like an Egyptian mummy, but open your heart to love others and risk being hurt.  But then be humble enough to forgive and ask forgiveness.

May I suggest that if by chance you are at the deathbed of a family member or friend, seek to be reconciled with them like St. Stephen. Tell them you love them, tell them you forgive them, and ask them to forgive you. Only then will they rest in peace. And so will you.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Chasing Ghosts

Being present to Jesus and thereby more present to ourselves

04/15/2018

Luke 24:35-48 The two disciples recounted what had taken place on the way, and how Jesus was made known to them  in the breaking of bread. While they were still speaking about this, he stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you." But they were startled and terrified and thought that they were seeing a ghost. Then he said to them, "Why are you troubled? And why do questions arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Touch me and see, because a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you can see I have." And as he said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. While they were still incredulous for joy and were amazed, he asked them, "Have you anything here to eat?" They gave him a piece of baked fish; he took it and ate it in front of them.

I recently learned a new vocabulary word that our teenagers have probably known for a long time. The word is “ghosting.” Have you heard that term before? The definition of ghosting reads: “The practice of ending a personal relationship with someone by suddenly and without explanation withdrawing from all communication.” In Fort Smith we call that “switching parishes.” Some parishioners have become ghosts to me. Have you ever abruptly cut-off all ties with someone? Ghosting means that you’ve disappeared off their radar, like a ghost, and vanished from their lives. Now, ghosting does not occur accidentally or gradually, like how you lose contact with a high school or college friend over the years. Rather, ghosting is immediate and intentional.

But have you ever thought you could “ghost” yourself? What I mean is have you ever felt like a stranger to yourself, uncomfortable in your own skin? Have people raised an eyebrow at you and said: “He’s not acting himself lately,” we might have lost communication with our better selves. This was precisely the problem that Ishmael faced in Herman Melville’s famous novel called Moby Dick. Ishmael joins a whaling expedition not only to catch “Leviathan,” the notorious whale called “Moby Dick,” but really to catch himself. At the beginning of the tale, Ishmael ponders the deeper meaning of water. He asks: “Why is almost every robust healthy boy with a robust healthy soul in him, at some time or other crazy to go to sea?...Why did the old Persians hold the sea holy?...And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans (he means our own faces). It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life, and this is the key to it all” (Moby Dick, 4-5).  You might recall the Greek myth of Narcissus (from which we get the term “narcissism”) where a handsome young man sees his reflection in a pool of water and falls in love with himself. But when he tries to touch that image he falls in the pool and drowns. Ishmael set sail because he was willing to take the chance of falling in the ocean and drowning in order to touch his true self. He was tired of “ghosting” himself.

In the gospel the apostles wonder if Jesus has “ghosted” them. With his death on the Cross, had our Lord abruptly and intentionally cut off all communication with his closest friends? As if to answer that exact question, Jesus says to them: “Touch me and see, because a ghost – a ghost – does not have flesh and bones as you can see I have.” In other words, I am not “ghosting” you guys anymore! In fact, I want to establish an even closer contact with you than when I was alive. But in reuniting with Jesus – and this is the bigger point – they also discover their better selves. Jesus reveals to them their deepest identities when he declares: “You are witnesses of these things.” You are apostles and the bishops of my Church. Only when Jesus was no longer a ghost to the apostles were they no longer ghosts to themselves. In finding Christ, they had found themselves.

My friends, I would suggest to you that Ishmael and the apostles are not the only ones who have embarked on a journey of self-discovery, so have we all. In a sense, you could say we are all “chasing ghosts,” especially our own ghosts because we’re not quite in full possession of ourselves, our true selves. As Mathew Kelly might say we are searching for “the best version of ourselves.” I am convinced that we will not find ourselves by looking in the mirror, like Narcissus, but by looking for Jesus.

Lately, we have witnessed some very dramatic examples of people who touched Jesus and thereby found their better selves. Jesus was no longer a ghost to them, he became real to them. On Easter, seventeen adults became Catholic and touched Jesus in the sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation and Holy Communion. On Friday and Saturday, over a hundred teenagers received Confirmation and touched Jesus, and Jesus touched them. On May 26 and June 2 eight men will be ordained as priests for the Diocese of Little Rock, and one of them, Fr. Stephen Elser, will come here as our new associate pastor. Jesus will say to those newly ordained priests the same thing he said to the first apostles: “You are witnesses of these things.” The heart of all healthy spirituality can be summed with this statement: when Jesus is no longer a ghost to us, we cease being ghosts to ourselves. When Jesus becomes more real to us, we become more real to ourselves.

In 1979 the classic rock group, Little River Band, released one of their biggest hits called, “Cool Change.” It could have been the theme song for Ishmael in Moby Dick because it, too, reflects on how water helps us get in touch with ourselves. Imagine Ishmael singing these words: “If there's one thing in my life that's missing / It's the time that I spend alone / Sailing on the cool and bright clear water / It's kind of a special feeling / When you're out on the sea alone / Staring at the full moon, like a lover.”

Only when we fall in love with Jesus, can we reestablish contact with everyone and everything else, the albatross and the whales, and even ourselves. Only then we are no longer chasing ghosts.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Saints Next Door

Learning to embrace middle class of holiness

04/13/2018

            John 6:1-15 Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee. A large crowd followed him, because they saw the signs he was performing on the sick. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. The Jewish feast of Passover was near. When Jesus raised his eyes and saw that a large crowd was coming to him, he said to Philip, "Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?" He said this to test him, because he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, "Two hundred days' wages worth of food would not be enough for each of them to have a little." One of his disciples, Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to him, "There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what good are these for so many?" Jesus said, "Have the people recline." Now there was a great deal of grass in that place. So the men reclined, about five thousand in number. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to those who were reclining, and also as much of the fish as they wanted.

Just when I think I’m overworked, exhausted and need a vacation, I check the Vatican website and see that Pope Francis has written another major document, an apostolic exhortation called Gaudate et exsultate (meaning “Rejoice and be glad”). Doesn’t this guy ever sleep? And Pope Francis is 81 years old, long past retirement age for most mortals.

The document describes the universal call to holiness as something for everyone, not just super Catholics. Everyone has to be holy. Let me share a particularly poignant section. The Holy Father reflects: “Nor need we think only of those already beatified and canonized…I like to contemplate the holiness present in the patience of God’s people: in those parents who raise their children with immense love, in those men and women who work hard to raise their families, in the sick, in elderly religious who never lose their smile (like Sr. Mary Sarto!)…Very often it is a holiness found in our next-door neighbor, those who, living in our midst, reflect God’s presence. We might call them ‘the middle class of holiness’”(Gaudate, 6, 7). Pope Francis certainly knows how to turn a phrase to capture a concept. Middle class holiness is for everyone.

The gospel of John serves up a delicious example of the saints next door in the story of the multiplication of the loaves and fish. When the apostles confront the daunting task of feeding the multitudes, all they can find for a solution is a young lad with five barley loves and two fish. They’re tempted to dismiss the little fellow’s bounty saying, “But what good are these for so many?” Jesus, however, does not miss this diminutive saint next door, and accepts the little lad’s gifts. The small boy steps onto the stage out of the shadows, plays his part, and immediately afterwards recedes into the recesses of the hungry crowd, never heard from again. He is what Pope Francis means by the middle class of holiness, and such people are all around us.

I think it’s a real temptation in the spiritual life to write off holiness because we think we will never be canonized a saint (and we probably won’t!). But that doesn’t mean we cannot be holy. We struggle with stubborn sins like sex and alcohol, we don’t always make it to Sunday Mass, we lose our patience with our kids and our coworkers, and so we want to throw in our rosaries and ask exasperatedly, “Why bother being good?” That is why Pope Francis wrote this exhortation: because we can still do small things and be the saints next door. Middle class holiness is within everyone’s reach.

Like the anonymous little boy in the gospel, our parish is filled with the saints next door. Our Eucharistic ministers who take Holy Communion to the sick in the hospitals and homes, our dedicated school teachers who instruct students with love and wisdom, our catechists who diligently prepare the young and the old to receive the sacraments with devotion, our cheerful church staff that does so much that often goes unnoticed and unappreciated, those who drop their dollars quietly and clandestinely in the poor box, Fr. Pius who’s retiring but still wants to serve. This is middle class of holiness and each of these people is happy to be of some service while eschewing the limelight. They step on the stage to perform their sacrificial service and just as promptly recede into obscurity, like the little boy in the gospel.

Several years ago the pope talked about retirement. I’m glad he gets tired sometimes too like me! He said very candidly: “The one thing I would like is to go out, without anyone recognizing me, and go to a pizzeria to eat pizza.” And that is exactly the attitude of middle class holiness.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Co-Creatorship

Appreciating our role as co-creators with God

04/09/2018

Luke 1:26-38 The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin's name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, "Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you." But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end." Mary said, "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word."

Ever since God created Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, he destined them to be co-creators with him. After all, Genesis 1:27 explains that God made the first man and woman “in his image and likeness.” If he creates, therefore, they too will create in their own way; creating was hard-wired into their DNA. Man and woman can’t help but create: from the stick-figure drawings of a kindergartner to the paints of Rembrandt, from a little girl’s pretend tea party to Emeril who cooks for a living on television (“bam!”), from a young man who writes poetry for his girlfriend (“Roses are red, violets are blue…”) to Dante’s immortal Divine Comedy, we are created to be co-creators.

Etienne Gilson, the brilliant French philosopher, put the matter this way: “It is God who fecundates our thought by His Word; nor is He only the interior master as a voice that whispers in the ear of the mind, He is the light whereby it sees, and more still, He is its food, as bread in the mouth; and more, the living seed that enters the womb of thought, espouses and fecundates it that it may conceive the truth” (The Spirit of Medieval Philosophy, 137). In other words, our acts of creation are always dependent on divine assistance, from beginning to end. Nowhere does this dependence shine more brightly than when a husband and wife conceive a child. Husband and wife each provide 23 chromosomes for the “material side” of the human person, but God alone supplies the soul, the “spiritual side” of a person. We reach the heights of our calling to be co-creators when we have a baby.

On March 25 every year the Church celebrates the Annunciation, when Jesus was conceived in the womb of his mother Mary. This year the feast falls on April 9 because it was bumped due to Holy Week and Easter Week. Jesus had to be crucified before he was conceived this year! If conceiving a child is the highest mountain range of human achievement, then Mary’s virginal conception of Christ is the summit of that range. Notice how Mother Mary’s words echo the total dependence on God that Gilson described. After Gabriel announces how God will cooperate in the conception of his Son in her womb, Mary humbly replies: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Save only for the work of Christ himself, humanity never stood taller or achieved anything more of lasting glory than when Mary accepted the annunciation of the angel. No one was a more sublime co-creator than the Blessed Virgin Mary because she took part in the creation of her own Creator.

I think we can cull out two important consequences from this brief reflection on co-creatorship. First, everyone without exception is called to create, to some degree and in some fashion. Not one human being has entered this world but in the image and likeness of God. As the bumper-sticker teaches: “God don’t make junk.” Hence, we should accord each other the dignity of being co-creators, and respect and reverence one another, no matter how humble someone’s circumstances.

Secondly, we have no room or right to boast of all our accomplishments. When Ed Seiter sets up for Spring Festival, when Suzanne McGraw takes Communion to the sick in the hospital, when Leo Anhalt builds a monastery, when Laverne Neihouse sews Fr. Pius’ alb, when Fr. John puts people to sleep in his looooooong sermons, we cannot take too much credit because we are only CO-creators, we are not the masters of our masterpieces. We can repeat the words of Mary, “Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord.”

One day an arrogant atheist scientist wanted to challenge God on creation. He boasted: “We have learned how to create human beings now, and so no longer need you.” God replied, “Oh, really?” “Yes,” said the atheist, “we can even create people from the dirt like you originally did.” “Watch this!” rejoiced the atheist as he bent down to gather dirt. God quietly said: “Get your own dirt.”  In heaven, all atheists and scientists (and everyone else) will say like Mary: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Hell There Is

Learning to appreciate the reality of and reasons for hell

04/07/2018

Mark 16:9-15 When Jesus had risen, early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons. She went and told his companions who were mourning and weeping. When they heard that he was alive and had been seen by her, they did not believe. After this he appeared in another form to two of them walking along on their way to the country. They returned and told the others; but they did not believe them either. But later, as the Eleven were at table, he appeared to them and rebuked them for their unbelief and hardness of heart because they had not believed those who saw him after he had been raised. He said to them, “Go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature.”

You may have heard some rumor or reporting in the news that the pope said there is no hell. Let me help clarify those comments by providing a little context. On Holy Thursday, March 29, Pope Francis had a private – private – conversation with an Italian reporter, Eugenio Scalfari, a 93-year old self-professed atheist, and a friend of the pope. That conversation was not intended to be an interview for public consumption, but that did not sway Scalfari from publishing an article the following day based on his recollections of that conversation (he did not tape it or take notes).

According to Scalfari’s recollection, he asked Pope Francis what happens to the souls of sinners when they died. And again, according to Scalfari’s memory, the pope answered: “They’re not punished. Those who repent obtain forgiveness and enter the ranks of those who contemplate [God], but those who don’t repent and can’t be forgiven disappear. A Hell doesn’t exist, what exists is the disappearance of sinning souls” (“Vatican says interview in which Pope doubts Hell not a ‘faithful transcript,” Crux Now, March 29, 2018). On the surface those words certainly seem controversial and contradict Catholic teaching. Hence, the Vatican quickly denied that comment, saying it was merely “the fruit of [Scalfari’s] own reconstruction.” Nonetheless, since it was put in print not a few people believed it, maybe some even secretly hoping there is no hell. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Instead of debating the authenticity of the pope’s comments, let me list five things Catholics believe about hell. First of all, no one taught more about the truth of hell in the New Testament than Jesus himself. Take perhaps the most dramatic instance of the Last Judgment in Matthew 25. Jesus describes his own glorious return at the end of time, when he will separate all humanity putting the sheep on his right, who go to heaven, and placing the goats on his left, who go to “eternal punishment (Mt. 25:46). To deny the existence of hell would empty our Lord’s teaching of much of its most compelling content.

Secondly, the Catechism of the Catholic Church is emphatic on the existence of hell. We read: “The teaching of the Church affirms the existence of hell and its eternity.” It continues: “Immediately after death the souls of those who die in a state of mortal sin descend into hell, where they suffer the punishment of hell, ‘eternal fire’” (Catechism, 1035). To deny the existence of hell would be tantamount to saying the Holy Spirit has misguided the magisterium of the Church on a basic Christian belief. Furthermore, it would throw egg in the face of the saints and scholars who taught this truth for two thousand years.

Thirdly, what do we celebrate during Holy Week, especially the Sacred Triduum, but Jesus’ suffering, death and resurrection? But why should our Lord have to suffer such torments if he was not saving us from something as terrible as hell? If the souls of sinners simply disappeared after death, why be whipped mercilessly by cruel chords, spit upon by self-righteous soldiers, blithely rejected by your own people, and finally nailed naked to a tree for all to see? Denying the existence of hell makes a mockery of our Lord’s passion and death, as if he died for nothing.

Fourthly, Jesus’ final command to his apostles is recorded in today’s gospel. He said: “Go into the whole would and proclaim the Gospel to every creature” (Mk. 16:15). The apostles testified to the Gospel not only with their words and actions, but also by their death, which were always cruelly conceived by their persecutors. St. Peter was crucified upside-down, St. Andrew was crucified in the shaped of an “X,” St. Paul was beheaded in Rome, St. Bartholomew was skinned alive, and so forth. Would it make much sense that they would suffer these tortures (like Jesus did), if there were not terrifying consequences for unbelief? In other words, one reason the Gospel is such “good news” is that it saves us from the really “bad news” of the eternal consequences of our sins, namely, hell. What motivated the apostles was not only the hope of heaven but also the fear of hell.

Fifthly and finally, a word about the power of the pope, or rather the limits of his power. Catholic Christians do not believe the pope is omnipotent (all-powerful) nor is he omniscient (all-knowing), instead he is an infallible instrument when he teaches authoritatively on matters of faith and morals. That infallibility does not apply when he’s having a casual conversation over a glass of chianti with a friend whom he’s trying to help love the Lord. The pope’s primary purpose is always twofold: to safeguard the deposit of faith and to be a sign of the unity of the Church. As he fulfills one function, he should not forget the other.

In the end, we can liken the pope’s power to something like that of a newspaper reporter. The old adage teaches: a good newspaperman only reports the news, he doesn’t create it. The pope doesn’t create the truth, he merely proclaims it. That’s something our friend, Mr. Scalfari, would do well to remember too.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Faith Business

Seeing Jesus’ grace and goodness in our successes

04/05/2018

Acts of the apostles 3:11-26 As the crippled man who had been cured clung to Peter and John, all the people hurried in amazement toward them in the portico called "Solomon's Portico." When Peter saw this, he addressed the people, "You children of Israel, why are you amazed at this, and why do you look so intently at us as if we had made him walk by our own power or piety? The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, the God of our fathers, has glorified his servant Jesus whom you handed over and denied in Pilate's presence, when he had decided to release him. You denied the Holy and Righteous One and asked that a murderer be released to you. The author of life you put to death, but God raised him from the dead; of this we are witnesses. And by faith in his name, this man, whom you see and know, his name has made strong, and the faith that comes through it has given him this perfect health, in the presence of all of you.

Yesterday we announced publicly that Trinity Junior High would buy the building and land it currently leases from the Benedictine Sisters. Hopefully, there’ll be an article in the paper today. This purchase allows Trinity to enjoy greater stability and sustainability, and for the Sisters to have the funds to build their new monastery. All this was made possible thanks to a very generous matching gift of $2,500,000 by one benefactor. As we celebrated the occasion yesterday I tried to remind everyone that this really isn’t about land or money or even a new monastery, but about faith. We only make all this effort so more people can come to faith in Jesus: more teenagers in a Catholic school and more sisters in a monastery and through them all whom they serve. At the end of the day, it’s about faith.

In the Acts of the Apostles, Peter is trying to remind the people that faith was the key ingredient of the cure of a crippled man. He tells the people not to applaud the apostles’ “power or piety,” instead he urges them: “by faith in Jesus’ name, this man, whom you see and know, his name has made strong, and the faith that comes through it has given him this perfect health, in the presence of you all.” The people were getting distracted by the marvelous miracle and forgetting faith, like maybe a few people might have forgotten that in yesterday’s announcement. But in the end what counts, and what lasts, is faith.

My friends, as you go through life you will also see wonders and miracles. A few examples of such miracles are the birth of a baby, or the day of your wedding, or the ordination of eight men as priests this year for our diocese, or buying a new house or getting a matching gift of $2,500,000 or any success or achievements you enjoy. While you celebrate these marvelous moments, also try to look at them through the eyes of faith, and see how Jesus is present in them. It is always his grace and goodness that makes possible anything worth-while that we accomplish. And, like St. Peter and the apostles, be careful not to take too much credit for them, but give all the glory to God. Like we said yesterday: we are not in the real estate business, we are in the faith business.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Milestones that Matter

Keeping our eyes on the Resurrection as our ultimate milestone

04/04/2018

Luke 24:13-35 That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus' disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred. And it happened that while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him. As they approached the village to which they were going, he gave the impression that he was going on farther. But they urged him, "Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over." So he went in to stay with them. And it happened that, while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight. Then the two recounted what had taken place on the way and how he was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Are you familiar with the term “milestones”? Let me tell you where the word originated and it will give you a good idea of its meaning. It is a conflation of two words – mile and stone – originally used in the Roman Empire. In Latin, these milestones were called “milliarium.” You will remember how the Roman Empire covered most of the known world, and it was interconnected with an intricate web of roads that provided easy and safe travel. Occasionally along the road, a large stone obelisk was erected to mark the road and inform travelers about the distances from one city to the next, so you knew where you were within the Empire.

In the modern “American Empire” where we live, we see not “milestones” but mile markers as you travel along United States interstates. Last Monday I was traveling back from Little Rock and I saw mile markers along the side of the road. When I saw mile marker 97 what did that tell me? I knew I was 97 miles from the western border of Arkansas, where I would enter Indian Territory. Those mile markers are calculated to tell you the distance remaining to the western or southern state line throughout the United States. The basic purpose of a milestone is to tell you if you are making progress. As you pass each milestone, you are getting closer to your destination.

In the gospel of Luke we hear about the single greatest milestone in all of human history – the day of the Resurrection. Luke 24 recounts a famous walk two disciples took on Easter Sunday from Jerusalem to Emmaus, about seven miles. They probably saw a Roman “mile stone” (an obelisk) along that road! But suddenly Jesus comes alongside and walks and talks with them. That evening they “break bread together” which is New Testament code language for the Mass or Eucharist. As they passed those Roman milestones on the road making steady progress to Emmaus, they were also steadily progressing spiritually in knowing Jesus until they reached their destination and their eyes were opened and they recognized him fully. In other words, milestones not only mark our progress on earth (like how close we are to Fort Smith), but they also mark our progress in the spiritual world (like how close we are to Jesus).

Boys and girls, we all experience milestones that tell us we are making progress in life. Our ninth graders will graduate in May, a big milestone in their academic journey. Some of you may achieve a degree in medicine and become a doctor, like several graduates of Trinity have. Some of you will reach the milestone of marriage, or if you’re really smart, you’ll become a priest or a nun! Today, Trinity Junior High reaches a milestone in our history as a school. We will announce that we are buying this property from the St. Scholastica Sisters. We will no longer be renters, we will be owners of this entire building. Imagine the feeling of moving from living in an apartment to buying your own home, then you will understand why Dr. Hollenbeck feels so happy today. We have reached a huge milestone in our history, and we are making great progress as a school.

But we should never forget that the real milestones are those spiritual ones, like the two disciples enjoyed walking with Jesus to Emmaus. Pay attention as you go through life observing your earthly milestones – ninth grade graduation, marriage, priesthood, buying a home, etc. – but also keep your eyes open to the progress you making spiritually in recognizing Jesus in the Breaking of the Bread, at the Mass. Real progress is spiritual growth, where you recognize who Jesus really is. The greatest milestone in the history of the world was the Resurrection, and in the end that will be the only milestone that matters.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Alpha and Omega

Emptying ourselves so we can be filled with Christ

04/01/2018

Colossians 3:1-4 Brothers and sisters: If then you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not of what is on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ your life appears, then you too will appear with him in glory.

Are you familiar with the notion of the “alpha male”? The concept comes from the study of groups of chimpanzees or packs of wolves. Invariably, one chimp or one wolf will become the leader and subdue all challengers, and if necessary kill them. He is the Alpha Male of the group. This concept has been used to explain human interactions where one male dominates all contenders and leads the group where he wants it to go. There is only one alpha male, and by contrast, all others are “beta males,” the second string team.

There are many characteristics of alpha males, but these three seem to be the most common. As I go through these, you can check whether Dc. Greg or I possess more qualities of an alpha male here in the church. Sometimes I do feel like killing him to show who’s boss. First of all alphas are confident and competitive. Alpha males are not afraid, and they want to win at all costs, and not just win but crush their opponents. Secondly, alphas are “strong” physically, mentally, emotionally and socially. When an alpha male walks into a room, he quickly scans the room to see if any male is stronger than him. When an alpha female enters a room, she looks to see if any women are prettier than she is. Beauty is strength. Thirdly, alphas “dress for success” and know how to use body language. They believe clothes might not make the man, but clothes do make the alpha man. They carefully control how they stand, how they walk, where their eyes look, how they position their hands, and even how they shake hands. Their groomed bodies shout: “I am in charge around here.” In any room full of people, it’s easy to pick out the alpha male in the group.

If we were to hold Jesus up to the standard of an alpha male, what would we discover? I am afraid we would be rather disappointed. Was he confident or competitive? In Luke 22:42, in the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus is filled with doubts and anxieties, and asks his Father to let the cup of suffering pass him by. In Matthew 20:16, Jesus taught: “the last shall be first and the first shall be last.” Not very confident or competitive. Was he strong? Jesus urges his disciples in Matthew 5:39 not to fight back, but “when someone strikes you on the right cheek turn and offer the other one to him as well.” Was he well dressed with powerful body language? We read in Mark 15:24, that the soldiers stripped him of his garments before crucifying him naked to the cross: not dressed for success. How about body language? Jesus fell three times carrying his cross and finally in Mark 15:21, Simon of Cyrene is pressed into service to carry the cross.  Isaiah 53:3 sums up Jesus’ earthly life: “He was spurned and avoided by men, a man of suffering, knowing pain, like one from whom you turn your face, spurned, and we held him in no esteem.”

And yet in the Book of Revelation 1:8, Jesus says: “’I am THE ALPHA and the omega…the one who is and who was and who is to come, the almighty.” As you may know, “alpha” is the first letter in the Greek alphabet and “omega” is the last letter. Jesus, therefore, is the beginning and the end of all time. In heaven, Jesus reigns as true Alpha Male, the eternal King and universal Lord, and all rightly worship him. When he descended to earth, however, he stripped himself of his royal robes and his divine dignity, not to become a beta male, but an omega, to be the last, to be a slave.

This makes sense of our Lord’s whole life: his clandestine birth in Bethlehem, his life of obscurity as a carpenter, his career of itinerant preaching and teaching, his ignominious death on a tree, and finally his triumphant resurrection that was all but hidden from the eyes of the world. Who saw the resurrection? Nobody. If it had been me, I would have risen on Easter Sunday and gone to Dc. Greg, flexed my bulging muscles, and said, “Now, who’s the Alpha Male??” But Jesus became an omega on earth, and hid his alpha for heaven.

My friends, let me ask you: do you feel more like an Alpha or an Omega? Sometimes, when we fail at a project, or lose a job or get a divorce or are rejected by others, we feel small and insignificant. We feel far from God and others. But I would suggest to you those moments might be when you are closest to being like Christ. On the other hand, when all goes well and we are heaping successes and victories left and right, we should not conclude that make us super Christians, and God loves us more than others. It may not mean any such thing at all. Sometimes it is the omegas on earth that becomes the alphas in heaven.

In the third century, an anonymous author wrote a “Letter to Diognetus” describing ideal Christian. It said: “Christians love all men, but all men persecute them. Condemned because they are not understood, they are put to death, but raised to life again. They live in poverty, but enrich many; they are totally destitute but possess an abundance of everything. They suffer dishonor, but that is their glory…A blessing is their answer to abuse, deference their response to insult. For the good they do they receive the punishment of malefactors, but even then they rejoice, as if receiving the gift of life.”

That description does not sound like someone who is “confident” or “competitive” or “strong” or “well-dressed” or has “dominant body language.” In fact, the author invites Diognetus (and us) to be the opposite. On Easter Sunday, the eyes of faith teach us that Jesus is the true Alpha Male, gloriously risen, triumphantly reigning and crowned with immortality. But in the eyes of the world, he’s still just the omega.

Praised be Jesus Christ!