Naked Disciples

Mastering the art of being a good teacher and preacher

06/28/2018

Matthew 7:21-29 Jesus said to his disciples: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the Kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name? Did we not drive out demons in your name? Did we not do mighty deeds in your name?’ Then I will declare to them solemnly, ‘I never knew you. Depart from me, you evildoers.’ “Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and buffeted the house. But it did not collapse; it had been set solidly on rock. And everyone who listens to these words of mine but does not act on them will be like a fool who built his house on sand. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and buffeted the house. And it collapsed and was completely ruined.” When Jesus finished these words, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.

There is a trick to being a good teacher, and it is especially incumbent on any teacher who is also a preacher, namely, you must put into action what you put into words. In a word, a good teacher must practice what you preach. This hit home for me in a memorable way when I was ordained a deacon, the last step before priesthood. The bishop held one end of the Book of the Gospels, while the deacon with trembling hands hold the other end, and the bishop says sternly: “Believe what you read. Teach what you believe. Practice what you teach.” The special task and trick for a deacon, not allowed to the lay person, is to read the gospel at Mass and to preach the word of God. But preaching does not end in the pulpit: the deacon must put into practice what he preaches and teaches.

I recently started reading a book by Etienne Gilson, a preeminent French philosopher, called The Christian Philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas. He explains in the Introduction that Aquinas did not take teaching lightly. St. Thomas taught at the University of Paris, but he was also a Dominican who embraced austere poverty. Gilson wrote: “St. Thomas never grew weary of defending against the attacks of seculars the legitimacy of the ideal to which he had consecrated his life, monastic poverty and the work of teaching.” A little later, Gilson summed up the saint’s spirit by quoting St. Jerome, who taught: “Christum nudum, nudus sequere,” which means, “naked disciples following a naked Christ.” In other words, Thomas mastered the trick of a good teacher, practicing what you preach, by being poor as he preached about Christ’s poverty. Practice what you teach.

We see this trick of teaching in the greatest Teacher of all, namely, Jesus our Lord. He practices what he teaches because he is the Word made flesh. In the gospel he demands his followers also master this trick of teaching before they open their mouths, saying: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the Kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” Clearly, Jesus will not admit any armchair apostles into the ranks of his army. A Christian, therefore, cannot just talk a good game, but he or she must assiduously act on their words. Jesus would approve the example Sts. Jerome and Aquinas: Christum nudum, nudus sequere, naked disciples following a naked Christ.

Sooner or later we must all don the mantle of a teacher and master the trick of being a good teacher. We must practice what we teach, even if we are not ordained clergy. Every parent knows instinctively that their children have x-ray vision and see through their hypocrisy if they say, “Do what I say and not what I do.” Children rightly pay far greater attention to their parents’ behavior than to their words. Of course, good words are critical too, but they are hopelessly crippled if not buttressed by good behavior. Sometimes we give politicians a pass when their personal lives do not reflect the high ideals of our culture and our country. To be sure, no one is perfect. But how much more inspiring when someone’s words are in lock step with their actions. Yesterday, I was mowing the grounds at Trinity Junior High, and seven people volunteered to help me. Would they have gone and mowed the grounds if I had stayed inside where it was cool, and sent them a text message to go and take care of it? Jesus will not accept armchair apostles in his army.

By the way, I’m sorry to use myself as an example; I don’t mean to suggest I am so holy or good. I am not. But what other example can I use but my own when I dare to teach and preach the gospel? That’s the only example that matters. Christum nudum, nudus sequere. Practice what you teach.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Baby Baptisms

Defending the value of the circumcision of Christ

06/24/2018

Luke 1:57-66, 80 When the time arrived for Elizabeth to have her child she gave birth to a son. Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy toward her, and they rejoiced with her. When they came on the eighth day to circumcise the child, they were going to call him Zechariah after his father, but his mother said in reply, "No. He will be called John." But they answered her, "There is no one among your relatives who has this name." So they made signs, asking his father what he wished him to be called. He asked for a tablet and wrote, "John is his name," and all were amazed. Immediately his mouth was opened, his tongue freed, and he spoke blessing God. Then fear came upon all their neighbors, and all these matters were discussed throughout the hill country of Judea. All who heard these things took them to heart, saying, "What, then, will this child be?" For surely the hand of the Lord was with him. The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the desert until the day of his manifestation to Israel.

In honor of the Nativity (or birthday) of St. John the Baptist, I would like to deliver a different kind of homily than my usual fire and brimstone sermon. Since St. John preached about baptism, and I’d like to preach an apology why Catholics baptize babies. Now, I’m not going to apologize for this Catholic practice – as if I’m saying I’m sorry for it and hope it doesn’t offend anyone. Rather, quite the contrary, I would like to defend this Catholic practice and show why it’s laudable. That’s the traditional meaning of the word, “apology,” (in Latin, apologia) that is, it is a defense of something, giving arguments in favor of something. I’m going to lawyer up today.

In 1865, Blessed John Henry Newman wrote his eloquent essay called Apologia Pro Vita Sua, which is Latin and means “a defense of one’s own life.” Newman was a towering intellectual teaching in Oxford, England and an Anglican. But prayer and study lead him to abandon the Anglican Communion and embrace Catholicism. In fact, he was so well-respected and admired that in the wake of his conversion, thousands of other people became Catholic as well. His apology explained his reasons for converting to Catholicism, and my apology today offers a few reasons why Catholics baptize babies.

But first you should know that this Catholic custom of baby baptism is highly controversial in many Christian corners. Most, if not all non-denominational churches question it and criticize it. For bible Christians, only professing faith in Jesus as your Lord and Savior saves you, baptism does not. One non-denominational minister put it starkly: “To count on one’s baptism, whether as an infant or as an adult, as the basis for standing before God is to trust in a false hope.” He went on: “Only personal faith in the crucified and risen Savior saves a person from sin and hell.” I remember a brief conversation shortly after Pope John Paul II died with the clerk at a grocery store. After he expressed his condolences, he exclaimed, “Now, there’s one Catholic that’s going to heaven!” Clearly, he thought most Catholics would not make it. This is why baby baptism needs an apology, a defense. Let me suggest three points for your prayerful pondering.

First, here’s what Catholics do in India. We baptize babies at exactly eight days after they are born. Why do we do that? Baptism replaced circumcision as the sign of the Covenant. Jews would circumcise a boy in the Old Testament 8 days after birth to show he belonged to the Chosen People, so baptism in the New Testament would be 8 days after birth to signify who belongs to Christ. The New Testament mirrors the Old Testament, even as it fulfills it and supersedes it. St. Paul explains how baptism supplants circumcision in his letter to the Colossians 2: 11-12, writing: “In [Christ] you were also circumcised with a circumcision not administered by hand…[but] with the circumcision of Christ. You were buried with him in baptism.” In other words, the new circumcision of Christ is baptism, and that’s why I was baptized 8 days after I was born in New Delhi. I know the exact day I was baptized, July 21, 1969.

Secondly, did you know Catholics believe in three kinds of baptism? The most commonplace baptism involves pouring water on someone or immersing them. The second type is the “baptism of desire.” Let’s say someone is preparing to be baptized, and has completed all the classes, but tragically dies on the way to church. They were baptized in virtue of their desire to be a Christian. And the third is “baptism of blood.” As you can guess that refers to those who are persecuted and killed for believing in Jesus even if they have not been formally baptized with water. Their blood baptizes them. But St. John the Baptist received an utterly unique baptism while in the womb. Luke 1:15 records: “He will be filled with the Holy Spirit from his mother’s womb.” John the Baptist was baptized with the circumcision of Christ in the womb. I wonder what our Protestant friends would think of St. John’s own baptism, not as a baby but as an embryo.

And third, ask yourself: what do all parents want to give their children? The answer: all parents want their children to have the best: the best food, the best clothes, the best school, the best friends, the best church, which is why you come to Immaculate Conception! And when do you start providing the best you can? Do you wait until they turn 16, or maybe when they get married, or perhaps you’re planning on leaving them the best as their inheritance after you die? No, of course not. You start to give your children the best when they are born, and even before they are born. Pregnant moms take pre-natal vitamins, they stop drinking, you paint the baby’s room pink or blue or yellow, and so much more, all in an effort to give them the best even before they see the light of day! Well, there is nothing you can give you children better than the circumcision of Christ, the sacrament of baptism. Catholics baptize babies because baptism is the best they can give them.

In the Preface to Newman’s Apologia Pro Vita Sua, he explained his purpose, paraphrased slightly, he said: “I shall account for that phenomenon which to so many seems so [unbelievable], that I should have left ‘my kindred and my father’s house’ for a Church from which I once turned away with dread…a Religion which has flourished through so many ages, among so many nations, amid such varieties of social life, in such contrary classes and conditions of men, and after so many revolutions, political and civil…[a religion that] subdues the reason and overcomes the heart.” In the pages that followed, Newman delivered a daunting defense of the Roman Catholic religion and why he became a Catholic. And that same remarkable religion urges the baptism of babies.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Fount of Power

Having a healthy hesitation about wielding power

06/22/2018

2 Kings 11:1-4, 9-18 When Athaliah, the mother of Ahaziah, saw that her son was dead, she began to kill off the whole royal family. But Jehosheba, daughter of King Jehoram and sister of Ahaziah, took Joash, his son, and spirited him away, along with his nurse, from the bedroom where the princes were about to be slain. She concealed him from Athaliah, and so he did not die. For six years he remained hidden in the temple of the LORD, while Athaliah ruled the land. But in the seventh year, Jehoiada summoned the captains of the Carians and of the guards. He had them come to him in the temple of the LORD, exacted from them a sworn commitment, and then showed them the king's son. The captains did just as Jehoiada the priest commanded. Each one with his men, both those going on duty for the sabbath and those going off duty that week, came to Jehoiada the priest. He gave the captains King David's spears and shields, which were in the temple of the LORD. And the guards, with drawn weapons, lined up from the southern to the northern limit of the enclosure, surrounding the altar and the temple on the king's behalf. Then Jehoiada led out the king's son and put the crown and the insignia upon him. They proclaimed him king and anointed him, clapping their hands and shouting, "Long live the king!"

There is a phrase that’s very vogue these days to describe power politics, namely, “palace intrigue.” Have you heard of palace intrigue before? Wherever you find a group of people trying to lead an organization – be it a government or a company or even a church – you have the potential for palace intrigue, which is basically the jockeying and jostling for influence and authority in the group.

I recently came across this phrase in the diaries of President Harry Truman, the 33rd President of the United States. He wrote: “Many Presidents have had what is known as ‘palace intrigue’ or palace bickering.” He continued: “You always find that there’s an excellent chance for jealousy and bickering among people who are close to the fount of power.” I’m always reminded of that insightful remark by the 19th century British politician, Lord Acton, who shrewdly observed: “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” In other words, palace intrigue is the tell-tale sign that power has started to corrupt the one who wields it, and those around him or her.

If there I one theme that recurs like a refrain throughout the Old Testament books of 1 and 2 Kings, it would be “palace intrigue.” We read perhaps the worst of the drama today when Athaliah, the mother of one slain king, starts to kill all the children of a rival family, the family of Judah. But one small heir, Joash, was saved at the last second and went into hiding for six years. Then Joash reappears resplendent in all his regal attire and orders Athaliah executed for treason toward the royal family. Palace intrigue had sunk to new lows in the descendants of King David. As President Truman had reflected: “You always find that there’s an excellent chance for jealousy and bickering among people who are close to the fount of power.” Absolute power had corrupted the descendants of David absolutely.

One of the things I admire the most about Pope Francis is his reluctance to wield power; he has a healthy hesitation even to touch it. I believe that when he was elected as the pope, he turned to all the cardinals and said: “May God forgive you for what you have done!” He did not desire the power of the papacy. This is one reason Francis has discouraged the elevation of priests to the rank of “monsignor,” something which I’m very sad about (not really!). He once said humorously that if there are any priests who are ecclesiastically climbing the ladder of success, they would do better to “go climb a mountain.” Pope Francis is keenly aware of the corrosive and corrupting nature of power, especially political power, and he will not tolerate it among his clergy.

The pope does not want to see any palace intrigue in the papal palace. Maybe that’s why he no longer lives in the palace but in a hotel.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Failure to Launch

Learning how to mentor the next generation

06/17/2018

Mark 4:26-34 Jesus said to the crowds: “This is how it is with the kingdom of God; it is as if a man were to scatter seed on the land and would sleep and rise night and day and through it all the seed would sprout and grow, he knows not how. Of its own accord the land yields fruit, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. And when the grain is ripe, he wields the sickle at once, for the harvest has come.” He said, “To what shall we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable can we use for it? It is like a mustard seed that, when it is sown in the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on the earth. But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the sky can dwell in its shade.” With many such parables he spoke the word to them as they were able to understand it. Without parables he did not speak to them, but to his own disciples he explained everything in private.

Recently I heard the craziest news story concerning a family feud in New York, but I believe the walls of that unhappy house hide a powerful life lesson. No doubt you have heard of the Rotondo family by now. Apparently, the parents, Mark and Christina Rotondo, have repeated told their 30 year-old son, Michael, to move out of the house and get a job, but he refused. They gave him several notices and even offered him $1,100 to help him find a new place, but he didn’t budge. Finally, the father wrote this note to his recalcitrant son: “After a discussion with your mother, we have decided you must leave this house immediately. You have 14 days to evacuate. You will not be allowed to return. We will take whatever actions are necessary to enforce this decision.” But even after that, Michael Rotondo stayed put. So, the parents took their son to court – the New York Supreme Court, no less – and the judge sided with the parents. Michael will have to leave his home. This is a perfect case study of what modern psychology terms “failure to launch.”

Now, we don’t know the details of the story and there are always extenuating circumstances, and no family wants their problems paraded through the papers for public consumption. But I can’t help feel a great deal of sympathy for the parents in this case. Let me explain why. It is the divinely appointed duty of parents to nurture and nourish their child with love and tenderness. That’s why we celebrated Mothers’ Day in May, because that softness falls to mothers who provide a gentle touch. But it is also the sworn responsibility of parents to make sure their children can survive and even thrive after the parents pass away. That’s why we celebrate Fathers’ Day in June, because it rests squarely on the sturdy shoulders of dads to show tough love, when the gentle nudge fails. The job of parents, therefore, is ultimately to help their children stop being children and ready to become parents themselves. Our parents mother us and father us so that one day we may grow up to be mothers and fathers ourselves. It seems Michael has learned plenty of softness from his mother, and maybe now he needs to learn some hardness from his father.

Jesus, too, is a wise teacher, and combines both the gentleness of a mother with the toughness of a father. We read in Mark 4 how he deals with the people, “With many such parables he spoke to them as they were able to understand it.” There we see our Lord’s compassion and condescension, lowering his lofty learning to the level of his listeners. But the next verse reads: “But to his own disciples he explained everything in private.” In other words, Jesus was preparing them for the day of his departure – how often he told them he would suffer and die. On that day they would no longer be learners but teachers. Disciple means learner, while apostle means teacher. Like Mr. Rotondo, Jesus was getting his disciples ready for their eviction from the House of Israel, so they could go out to all the world and teach Jesus’ lessons of love. Jesus made sure his apostles did not experience a failure to launch.

Suddenly, I find myself in the role of a sort of parent with the arrival of Fr. Stephen Elser, our baby priest.  Our parish has had a baby!  It’s kind of surprising the things I take for granted as a priest that I need to explain to him, like how to turn on the lights in the confessional, where the holy oils are for the anointing of the sick, how long his homilies should be. I told him his homilies should be at least 20 minutes long. That way people will like my homilies better. I have to muster up the gentleness of a mother and be patient with his questions. But if he doesn’t do what I say, I’ll be tough-nosed like Mr. Rotondo and give him 14 days to evacuate the rectory. No adult can escape the responsibility of raising the next generation, even celibate priests who don’t even have their own kids!

Today is Fathers’ Day in the United States and we honor and pray for our father-figures: whether they are biological fathers, or step-fathers, or foster-fathers, or absent fathers, or spiritual fathers, and we never forget our deceased fathers. It’s especially challenging to be a father today because we see such poor models of fatherhood on television or in the movies. Men who portray fathers are usually inept or incompetent, constantly criticized by their wives or cruelly controlled by their kids, and typically the butt of jokes. Most fathers can complain like the comedian Rodney Dangerfield used to say, “I don’t get no respect around here.” Maybe that’s one place we can begin to love our fathers: by restoring that respect that all fathers deserve and desire.

I watched a video clip of an interview with Michael Rotondo after the court decision. The reporter asked if Michael wanted to reconcile with his parents at some point. Michael blankly replied, “No.” His answer broke my heart. I’m reminded of St. Paul’s advice to parents and children in his letter to the Ephesians. The apostle to the gentiles wrote: “Children obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” And later he added: “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up with the training and instruction in the Lord.” In other words, whatever we do as parents and as children, we should try to do “in the Lord.” That’s the best way to raise the next generation, and make sure they do not experience a failure to launch.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Vexed Veil

Reducing our visual intake to sharpen our spiritual vision

06/15/2018

Matthew 5:27-32 Jesus said to his disciples: "You have heard that it was said, You shall not commit adultery. But I say to you, everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one of your members than to have your whole body thrown into Gehenna. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one of your members than to have your whole body go into Gehenna.

Catholic communities are seeing a resurgence of a custom that was shunned in the sexual revolution of the 60’s and 70’s, namely, women covering their heads at Mass. Prior to the sexual revolution a woman wouldn’t think of entering the church without a “chapel veil.” In fact, some churches had extras at the entrances if you forgot yours at home, or women used tissues. But with the dawn of the women’s liberation movement, many people felt the veil was a symbol of subjugation, which in some quarters it might well have been. But now the veil is making a comeback. It should be remembered that this was a predominantly American experience and experiment, not shared universally. In India, for example, women wear sari’s and the sash that is thrown over a woman’s shoulder can easily be pulled over the head when she enters a church. My mom always does that.

Without sounding politically correct or incorrect (as the case may be), I would like to suggest another view about the veil. I think the vexation over the veil arises when we focus on what is covered – a woman’s head – rather than on the eye that beholds the woman. In other words, the veil is not for the sake of the woman, but for the sake of the man, whose eyes tend to wander (quite involuntarily) and land on a pretty girl. Has a pretty girl ever “caught your eye”? I suppose women are also easily distracted by the sight of another beautiful woman. The veil, therefore, was an effort to help keep our eyes on God in church, rather than on the beautiful goddesses walking around inside church. It is a spiritual paradox that in order to see God you must limit what you see with your eyes, that is, you must rely more on the eyes of faith than on the eyes in your head.

Both Elijah and Jesus urge limiting our bodily vision so that we might enhance our spiritual eyesight. When Elijah realizes God is present in the whispering wind, he adopts an ancient custom. We read: “When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave.” Elijah instinctively understood that his human eyes were instruments far too poor to peer upon the Almighty, so covering his face, he was forced to employ his eyes of faith, a far stronger organ to see God.

Jesus doesn’t mince words when he urges us to limit the use of our bodily eyes saying in the gospel: “If you right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away.” Maybe modern Christians have softened that harsh saying by simply covering a woman’s head instead of tearing out our eyes. But you see how Jesus locates the trouble at its source: the eye of the beholder. Paradoxically, the less you see with your natural eyes, the more you are able to behold with your spiritual eyes of faith.

I hope you don’t misunderstand the point of my homily today. I’m not really arguing or urging women to wear chapel veils. I’m inviting us to wrestle with the deeper dilemma of what our eyes behold and suggesting you reduce your visual intake. Go on a “visual diet” sort of say, in order to for your eyesight to be more spiritual healthy. Here are a few examples. Try to reduce the time you spend looking at social media or watching television – that’s like visual junk food. Maybe you’re addicted to the 24-hour new cycle, and check your phone first thing when you open your eyes in the morning. As you wait in line to check out at the grocery store, train your eyes to look away from the tabloids talking about which movie star got divorced and which one had an alien baby. Be aware of this paradoxical spiritual principle: the more you take in through your natural eyes – and I’m talking about the silly and superficial stuff – the less you are able to absorb through your spiritual eyes, your eyes of faith.

So, should women wear veils in church or not? I really don’t know; and I really don’t care. But that’s not really the relevant question, in my opinion. Rather, we should worry about what our eyes see and where they wander. It is said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. The less beauty we behold naturally-speaking, the more Beauty we behold spiritually-speaking.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Cloud Rider

Becoming zealous for the true God alone

06/14/2018

1 Kings 18:41-46 Elijah said to Ahab, "Go up, eat and drink, for there is the sound of a heavy rain." So Ahab went up to eat and drink, while Elijah climbed to the top of Carmel, crouched down to the earth, and put his head between his knees. "Climb up and look out to sea," he directed his servant, who went up and looked, but reported, "There is nothing." Seven times he said, "Go, look again!" And the seventh time the youth reported, "There is a cloud as small as a man's hand rising from the sea." Elijah said, "Go and say to Ahab, 'Harness up and leave the mountain before the rain stops you.'" In a trice the sky grew dark with clouds and wind, and a heavy rain fell. Ahab mounted his chariot and made for Jezreel. But the hand of the LORD was on Elijah, who girded up his clothing and ran before Ahab as far as the approaches to Jezreel.

I was first introduced to the fiery figure of the prophet Elijah many years ago when I visited the Carmelite monastery called Marylake. Throughout the monastery were scattered various statues of saints, and I enjoyed trying to identify them because they didn’t wear any name badges. You may have noticed none of the statues or stained glass windows in our church have names either. You have to guess their identity by the clothes they wear – like a bishop’s robes – or an object in their hands – like a book or a sword. I could easily surmise which statues were Carmelite holy heroes like St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa of Avila and St. Therese of Lisieux, and even Edith Stein. But one figure baffled me because he carried a sword that looked like fire. I guessed it might be St. John the Baptist at first, but I was wrong.

Later when I spent three months with the Carmelites in Dallas, I saw this fiery figure again, but this time with an additional clue. Below his statue were the words in Latin, “Zelo zelatus sum pro Domino Deo exercituum” meaning “With zeal I have been zealous for the Lord God of hosts.” That line comes from 1 Kings 19:10 and those prophetic words were uttered by the mighty ancient prophet Elijah. Elijah was the fellow with the fiery sword. I later learned that Elijah was the inspiration for the Carmelite order and their spiritual founder 800 years before the coming of Christ.  They are truly the first religious order.

1 kings 18 records the epic battle between Elijah, the last of the true prophets, and the false prophets of Baal, a pagan deity. The most dramatic moment of that spiritual showdown is definitely when Elijah slays the 450 false prophets with his fiery sword. Don’t mess with Elijah. But that was not the most decisive moment. The real climax of the story doesn’t center on fire but on water, specifically on rain. Elijah has commanded the clouds not to rain for three years, and after his duel on Mt. Carmel with the prophets of Baal, Elijah goes to pray for rain to descend again from heaven. We read that he went “to the top of Carmel, crouched down to the earth, and put his head between his knees.” Then he sends his servant seven times – seven is the symbolic number of the covenant with God – to see if his prayer for rain has been answered. Why is that prayer for rain so significant? Well, because the name “Baal” literally means “Cloud Rider” and it was Baal particular power to command the rain, and that was challenged and vanquished by Yahweh, the true God. In fact, the name Elijah literally means, “Behold, Yahweh is my God.” In other words, the point and purpose and passion of Elijah the prophet was to make clear to the people who is the true God, and demand their loyalty and love for him alone. That mission is likewise the point and purpose and passion of the entire Carmelite order, and why I wanted to join them.

But we shouldn’t casually peruse the story of Elijah as something that only happened 3,000 years ago. It happens every day. We, too, can turn to modern day Baals and worship them instead of the true God. We may not be tempted to trust in the power of the Cloud Rider, but we do easily turn to the false deities of money, sex and power. And it’s not too far a stretch to suggest that our last three popes have been modern-day Elijah’s “zealous for the Lord God of hosts” turning us back to the true God. Pope St. John Paul II left us the legacy of his monumental theology of the body, teaching us that sex is sacred, and should lead us to God, but not worshiped as a god like in pornography. Benedict XVI reformed the liturgy – he’s the reason we started saying “And with your spirit,” and included the word “consubstantial” in the Creed – and taught us real power resides in the prayerful celebration of the sacraments, not power politics. And lastly Pope Francis shows us how money can become a god as he embraces a life of prophetic poverty. Each pope embodies the name of Elijah which means “Behold, Yahweh is my God.” John Paul, Benedict and Francis, no less than ancient Elijah, demand the people turn away from false idols to worship the true and living God.

Next time you visit a Carmelite monastery and try to identify the saintly statues and happen to see one curious fellow with a fiery sword, you’ll know who is he. And the next time you go to Rome and get to see the pope, you’ll not only see the successor of St. Peter, but also, in a sense, the successor of Elijah.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Maternal Muster

Appreciating how mothers smile through tears of love

06/09/2018

Luke 2:41-51 Each year Jesus' parents went to Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, and when he was twelve years old, they went up according to festival custom. After they had completed its days, as they were returning, the boy Jesus remained behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Thinking that he was in the caravan, they journeyed for a day and looked for him among their relatives and acquaintances, but not finding him, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions, and all who heard him were astounded at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were astonished, and his mother said to him, "Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety." And he said to them, "Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?" But they did not understand what he said to them. He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart.

God has made a mother’s heart the most resilient and reliable thing in the whole created cosmos, so much so that even the angels stand in awe of them. Why did God do that?  Well, it’s because their children (you and I) are constantly putting that maternal muster to the test, to see how far we can stretch that resiliency and sound that reliability. Now the surprising thing is we sometimes see if our mom’s pass muster not only when we do something naturally bad (like get in trouble), but also when we attempt something supernaturally good (like find our vocation); not only when we fail to do our human parents’ earthly will but when we try to do our divine Father’s heavenly will. But even then a mom’s heart never skips a beat of love but stays strong.

I’ll never forget when I put my own wonderful mother’s heart to the test when I announced my intention to become a priest. I was a junior in high school, and I decided to tell my whole family at supper one evening. Each person had a different reaction, and while my mom tried to paint a smile on her face, she did not entirely hide her disappointment. Of course, her initial reaction was perfectly understandable. She thought her son was embarking on a life of sacrifice and solitude without the created comforts of married love and family life that give the greatest joys on earth. My vocation seemed to fall short of all their expectations for my life made possible by their sacrifices to come to this country from India. But she still smiled through the tears at that dinner.

Now, however, my mom has no regrets that I’m a priest because the reality is that every priest is pampered in his parish, and every priest’s mother is treated like the Queen of Sheba whenever she enters the doors of his parish church. Nevertheless, my mother’s heart was tested maybe more not when I did something naturally wrong as when I chose something supernaturally good. The former makes sense to reason, but the latter requires the gift of faith.

The same dynamic of love was operative in the heart of the Blessed Virgin Mary when Jesus tested her by choosing a supernatural good, namely, his Father’s will. At the decisive age of twelve – when our natural awareness is at its apex but our passions of puberty have not been released from their cage – Jesus goes to the Temple for the annual Jewish pilgrimage. But he remains behind to start his Messianic mission of engaging the Jewish authorities and getting under their olive skins. After they find him, Mary asks, perhaps smiling through her own tears, “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.” To which Jesus unperturbedly replied: “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Notice how Mary’s heart is on the earthly level – she says Jesus’ father is Joseph and his house is in Nazareth, where Jesus belongs. But our Lord’s heart is on the heavenly level – he says his Father is God and his house is the Temple, and that’s where Jesus belongs. It might have been easier for Mary’s maternal love to deal with Jesus staying out too late after his bar mitzvah (a natural wrong), than with his decision to seek God’s will (a supernatural good). The first only requires reason, the second needs the help of faith.

It would be very easy to multiply modern-day examples of passing maternal muster, seeing how a mother’s heart is tested in its resiliency and reliability. But all such tests would fall under two headings: natural tests and supernatural tests. And while we would all like to think that it would be far easier when a mother faces the moment of truth and love when her son or daughter chooses to do the heavenly Father’s will (instead of their earthly mom or dad’s will to be a doctor or lawyer), in fact it is much header. Our mothers know us well, especially our weaknesses, and so their hearts are ready to deal with us when we sin (they see it coming), better than when we want to be a saint (they don’t see that coming). But even then we can always see the true strength of a mother’s heart, its resilience and reliability, because she will always manage to smile through the tears.

That’s the moment when her own maternal muster will reach the heights of holiness of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. With the Blessed Virgin Mary, our mothers too, will “keep all these things in their hearts.” That’s when a mother’s heart begins to beat not only with the everyday drumbeat of reason but also with far away cadences of faith.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Dereliction of Duty

Fulfilling our Christian duty found in each sacrament

06/04/2018

Mark 12:1-12 Jesus began to speak to the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders in parables. "A man planted a vineyard, put a hedge around it, dug a wine press, and built a tower. Then he leased it to tenant farmers and left on a journey. At the proper time he sent a servant to the tenants to obtain from them some of the produce of the vineyard. But they seized him, beat him, and sent him away empty-handed. Again he sent them another servant. And that one they beat over the head and treated shamefully. He sent yet another whom they killed. So, too, many others; some they beat, others they killed. He had one other to send, a beloved son. He sent him to them last of all, thinking, 'They will respect my son.' But those tenants said to one another, 'This is the heir. Come, let us kill him, and the inheritance will be ours.' So they seized him and killed him, and threw him out of the vineyard. What then will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come, put the tenants to death, and give the vineyard to others.

Perhaps you have heard of the term “dereliction of duty.” It is found in the U.S. Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) and binds all military personnel to do their job. If they fail to fulfill their function, either willfully or negligently, they are liable to punishment. That punishment can range all the way from the death penalty (during war time) to dishonorable discharge. Specifically, Article 92 reads: “Failure to obey an order or a regulation…Any person subject to this chapter who…is derelict in the performance of his duties; shall be punished as a court-martial may direct.”

But dereliction of duty can be found outside the U.S. military, even in the Church. The most dramatic instance recently was the resignation of all 34 bishops in the whole country of Chile on May 18. That would be like all the highest ranking U.S. officers in Afghanistan resigning simultaneously. As far as the Catholic Church in Chile is concerned, that church is leaderless and rudderless today. But why did they resign? You may have been following the news of sexual abuse that has thrown a papal spotlight on Chile. It seems there has been rampant sexual abuse and cover up, or at least willful turning of a blind eye. Whatever the particulars of the case, everyone, including the 34 bishops, acknowledges they were guilty of dereliction of duty, and tendering their resignation is tantamount to asking for a “dishonorable discharge” from service in the Lord’s army. Dereliction of duty is a serious failure, whether you serve a country or a church.

Mark 12 shows that Jesus was not so lenient as Pope Francis might be in dealing with dereliction of duty. He tells a parable directed clearly to the “officers” of the Jewish people, the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders. The parable is about the woeful failure of tenants given charge of a vineyard to cultivate and care for. But they are severely derelict in their duty because they abuse and kill the owner’s emissaries, and ultimately kill his son. What punishment will the court-martial mete out to them? Jesus continues: “He will come, put those tenants to death, and give the vineyard to others.” Jesus does not tolerate dereliction of duty to any degree and punishes it accordingly.

My friends, it can be convenient to cast blame on the leaders of the military and in the church regarding dereliction of duty, and easily turn a blind eye to our own responsibilities. You and I may not be in the U.S. military or a bishop in the Catholic hierarchy, but that doesn’t absolve us from possible dereliction of duty. Where does our duty to the Christian community originate? It can be found in every sacrament. Each sacrament – baptism, confirmation, Communion, confession, marriage, holy orders and anointing of the sick – is not only what God promises to do for us – his duty – but also an obligation placed on us to respond to his love – our duty. Every sacrament, especially baptism, is a renewal of our covenant with Christ in which we exchange mutual rights and responsibilities: he promises to love us and give us his grace and mercy, and we promise to love him by lives of holiness, humility and honor. When we fail to do that, we are also derelict in our Christian duty. And we face our own personal court-martial every time we go to confession. That’s why everyone looks forward to confession.

This week all the priests of our diocese will be on retreat. We don’t just go to Subiaco to rest and relax – don’t worry, we’ll do plenty of that – but also to examine our priestly commitment we made at ordination. Have we been derelict in our duty as shepherds of souls? Knowing that Jesus is not very lenient in this regard with the leaders of his church, I think I’ll need your prayers this coming week.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Wise Blood

Seeking wise blood in believers and in the Eucharist

06/03/2018

Mark 14:12-16, 22-26 On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb, Jesus’ disciples said to him, "Where do you want us to go and prepare for you to eat the Passover?" While they were eating, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, gave it to them, and said, "Take it; this is my body." Then he took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, and they all drank from it. He said to them, "This is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed for many. Amen, I say to you, I shall not drink again the fruit of the vine until the day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God." Then, after singing a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.

Many years ago I read one of the most bizarre novels written by one of the most brilliant Catholic authors of the last century, Flannery O’Connor. The name of the novel was Wise Blood. The real meaning of the story, however, lies hidden, buried beneath layers and layers of symbolism, and I still don’t understand most of it. The basic plot revolves around a World War II veteran named Hazel Motes, who returns to his hometown in Tennessee to find his family homestead abandoned. His war experiences have embittered him to life and now he’s an avowed atheist. So much for the theory that “there are no atheists in foxholes”! As a matter of fact, Hazel begins a street ministry preaching anti-religion, trying to convince people religion is a sham and there is no God.

Hazel’s path, however, is continually crisscrossed by people with highly symbolic names that slowly help him to a spiritual awakening. The first character he meets is Enoch Emory, who teaches him about the notion of “wise blood,” meaning that Hazel’s own heart, which pumps his life blood, has a wisdom that doesn’t require religion or God (he’s talking about his conscience). You might remember Enoch was a patriarch mentioned in Genesis 5:24 who was taken to heaven before he died. Next a young fifteen year told girl comes into Hazel’s life named Sabbath Lily, whose name obviously evokes Sunday (Sabbath) and purity (Lily), and Hazel is irresistibly drawn to her like to the Blessed Virgin Mary. In a fit of rage, however, Hazel kills a competing street preacher, and feeling deep remorse and guilt, does penance by wrapping barbed wire around his body and blinding himself with quicklime. Finally, Hazel is saved from his anti-religion by a lady named Mrs. Flood, and dies in her arms, and her name is reminiscent of the ancient flood recorded in Genesis 9 that washed away sin and disbelief.

What does all this have to do with the title of the book Wise Blood? I have no idea! But here’s my best guess. Somehow, blood carries a certain wisdom, which is the knowledge and awareness of sin and the subsequent need for salvation. Maybe that’s why so many sins we commit infect the blood. Pope Benedict XVI insisted, “The organ for knowing God is the heart.”  Notice he didn’t say the organ for knowing God is the mind. The heart, in other words, is the throne of faith and a Christian heart is pumping the blood of a believer, the wisest of all blood.

I believe there is a kind of crimson cord that stretches from the beginning to the end of the Bible and that is blood. Blood builds a kind of bridge between sin and salvation: blood is shed in sin but blood is also shed when we are saved, as our three scripture readings attest. In Exodus 24 Moses sprinkles the people with the blood of sacrificed bulls, because they had worshipped bulls in Egypt. The bull’s blood was “wise blood” because it reminded them of their sin. The Letter to the Hebrews 9 says Jesus entered heaven “not with the blood of goats and calves but with his own blood.” The “wise blood” of Jesus gives us knowledge of eternal mysteries hidden in heaven. And at the Last Supper in the gospel of Mark, Jesus takes a cup of wine and pronounces “This is my Blood of the covenant” and commanded his apostles to partake of it. Why? So that they would have Jesus’ own “wise blood” so that they, too, would live by faith, true wisdom.

On this Feast of Corpus Christi, the Body and Blood of Christ, let me suggest how you, too, can have a little more wise blood in your veins. First of all, try to seek the wisdom of your parents. After all, their blood flows through your whole body. Learn from them, listen to them, and laugh with them (don’t laugh at them). Someone sent me this little joke about not laughing at parents. A man recalled sadly, “My dad died last year when my family couldn’t remember his blood type in time for paramedics to save him. As he died, he kept insisting for us to ‘be positive, be positive,’ but it’s so hard without him.” Parents are not perfect, but they have the wisdom of hindsight, so try to get an infusion of their wise blood.

Second, seek “wise blood” in the Scriptures and in the saints. Pay close attention to that crimson cord running through the Bible, the intimate connection between sin and salvation in the blood, and realize that someone we, too, must make sacrifices to expiate sin and receive salvation. The saints, too, especially the martyrs who shed their blood bear powerful witness to Jesus. They believed that faith was worth any price, even the price of their own life. That is wise blood.

Thirdly, never miss Sunday Mass, and the opportunity to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus in Holy Communion. I know it’s summertime and we want a break from the routine of school and work. And that is both good and healthy. But don’t take a vacation from your vocation by skipping Mass. Your heart is the one muscle that never gets to relax, because if it ever took a vacation – even for a few minutes – from pumping blood to your body, you’d die. So, pour “wise blood” into your heart by receiving Communion frequently. Keep your hearts muscle strong because it is the organ for knowing God.

My friends, do you have any wise blood? Here’s how you can tell if you do. First, wise blood makes you aware of how sin and salvation are found in the blood, like Hazel Motes learned. Second, you’ll frequently seek the wise Blood of Jesus in Holy Communion every Sunday, or more often. Wise blood is the best blood type that you can possibly have, even better than “be positive.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Fault in our Figs

Seeing Jesus’ judgment as directed to our lack of holiness

06/01/2018

Mark 11:11-26 Jesus entered Jerusalem and went into the temple area. He looked around at everything and, since it was already late, went out to Bethany with the Twelve. The next day as they were leaving Bethany he was hungry. Seeing from a distance a fig tree in leaf, he went over to see if he could find anything on it. When he reached it he found nothing but leaves; it was not the time for figs. And he said to it in reply, "May no one ever eat of your fruit again!" And his disciples heard it. They came to Jerusalem, and on entering the temple area he began to drive out those selling and buying there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who were selling doves. He did not permit anyone to carry anything through the temple area. Then he taught them saying, "Is it not written: My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples? But you have made it a den of thieves." Early in the morning, as they were walking along, they saw the fig tree withered to its roots. Peter remembered and said to him, "Rabbi, look! The fig tree that you cursed has withered."

It’s amazing how easily hunger can turn into anger, or as some people say these days “hanger” (a conflation of hunger and anger). The funniest commercial depicting the debilitating effect of hunger was for a candy bar. In one commercial, two men are at a party talking to two pretty girls (trying to pick them up). One of the two men looks like Joe Pesci, the sarcastic comedian, prone to violent outbursts. After introducing themselves, Joe Pesci loses his composure and start interrogating the two girls for no apparent reason. Pesci suddenly asks, “What are you looking at?” And not pausing for an answer asks, “What, we’re not good enough for you? What, are you some big supermodels or something? What do you model, gloves?” Then after his friend takes him aside and gives him a candy bar, the man becomes his usual charming self, no longer Joe Pesci. It was a memorable ad about how hunger makes us lose our cool and control to the extent that we’re almost another person.

In Mark 10 it looks like Jesus loses his composure because of hunger and he could use a candy bar to calm down. St. Mark writes: “As they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing from a distance a fig tree in leaf, he went over to see if he could find anything on it. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves; it was not the time for figs. And he said in reply, “May no one ever eat of your fruit again!” Jesus suddenly sounded like Joe Pesci because his hunger got the better of him. But is that what’s really going on? Not at all.

First of all, Jesus is not a slave to his passions and bodily appetites, but rather he possesses absolute self-mastery. Remember how he rebuffed the devil’s temptation in the desert not eating for forty days? Jesus can easily fast from figs for one day. Secondly, the fig tree was an ancient symbol for the Chosen People, Israel. Hosea 9:10 prophesied: “Like grapes in the desert, I found Israel; Like the first fruits of the fig tree, its first to ripen, I looked on your ancestors.” But the Jews fell from grace and away from God and the subsequent time for judgment had arrived. Jesus’ judgment on the fig tree was symbolic of God’s greater judgment on Israel. Indeed, that’s why Jesus’ next step is to enter the Temple and drive our the money-changers. The faulty figs represented the faults of the people, hence Jesus’ judgment, not because he was “hangry.”

I think one lesson we can draw out from this scripture is to ask ourselves: are we slaves to our passions, or have we learned some self-mastery? The rich spiritual tradition of the Church offers seven capital sins or vices that perennially plague all people, including me and you: envy, gluttony, greedy, sloth, lust, anger and pride. As a convenient way to remember them, I use the mnemonic device, the acronym that spells “EGG SLAP.” For instance, does greed – a lack of money or financial stability – make you turn into Joe Pesci and behave badly, blaming others? Perhaps gluttony – not satisfying your desire for food – causes you to lash out at people. What about satisfying your sexual appetite, lust? Do you seek solace in illicit sexual activity? Sometimes our bruised ego or our prickly pride prompts us to resort to resentment or revenge. All these indicate a lack of self-mastery and that we are governed by our passions, not like Jesus.

Jesus did not take out his hunger pains on a faulty fig tree. He only condemned the faulty faith of his people. Jesus is also looking for the figs of faithfulness from us, which is evidenced in lives of holiness and humility. We don’t want Jesus to turn into Joe Pesci when he deals with us.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

First Impressions

Allowing others to make a good first impression first

05/31/2018

Luke 1:39-56 Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said, "Most blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled."

How do you behave when you meet someone important for the first time? Most of us try to make a good first impression and so we feel understandably nervous. Try to recall your first job interview. Di you fret over the kind of tie you would wear, or the dress you decided to don? Did the palms of your hands sweat or beads of sweat break out on your forehead? Did you stutter when you tried to speak? I remember when I personally met Pope John Paul II for the first time in 2002. I had the chance to exchange a few words one-on-one and I was so nervous I sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher on Peanuts, “Wah, wah, wah, wah.” I was hoping the pope thought I was speaking some obscure Indian dialect he’d never heard before. So much for first impressions.

In India whenever two people meet for the first time, they fold their hands in the prayer position and bow toward one another. They utter the word, “Namaste” almost like a prayer. The word and the bow mean that I acknowledge the divine presence in you. That’s what I should have done when I met the pope, surely I could remember one word “Namaste”! But notice the shift in emphasis of the good impression: instead of focusing on me, I turn the attention to the other person. Rather than trying to make myself look divine, I acknowledge that the other person carries a spark of God. The best first impression we can make is to let the other person make a good first impression.

The feast of the Visitation, the second Joyful Mystery of the Holy Rosary, is the meeting of two wonderful women and their two extraordinary unborn children. Mary goes to the hill country to care for her cousin Elizabeth, who’s older and pregnant, so it wasn’t easy. And how does Elizabeth greet Mary? She was more poised than I was with the pope. She exclaims: “Most blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” Elizabeth didn’t literally say “Namaste” or perhaps even fold her hands and bow, but she said essentially the same thing. Of course, Elizabeth’s greeting was the one occasion in human history when saying “Namaste” was unconditionally and absolutely true: Mary carried not a spark of God, but the veritable Son of God, the eternal Logos. Elizabeth made a great first impression – as well as John the Baptist in her womb – by allowing the focus to be on Mary and Jesus, so they made a good first impression. The best first impression is always letting the other person make a good first impression.

Let me suggest a simple way you, too, can change your attitude about making a first impression, whether it’s for a job interview or if you’re about to meet the pope. Instead of focusing overmuch on yourself, acknowledge the importance and value of the other person. Specifically, try to discover their talents, or accomplishments or gifts and compliment them on it. This is very easy to do, if we but take a moment to look around and pay attention. For instance, I visited a family for supper last night and complimented them on their landscaping when I walked in, they obviously worked hard on it. I’ll send them a little thank you note mentioning how well their children shared in the dinner conversation and how delicious the supper was. We sat and talked for almost three hours! Every time you compliment someone you are silently saying “Namaste,” I see the divine spark in you.

That’s the paradoxical things about first impressions. When you allow someone else to make a good first impression, that’s when you make the best first impression, too. And in a way, you’ll be speaking an obscure Indian dialect, too.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Patriotism over Pacifism

Embracing courage to follow the Lord

05/28/2018

Mark 10:17-27 As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up, knelt down before him, and asked him, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus answered him, "Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: You shall not kill; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness; you shall not defraud; honor your father and your mother." He replied and said to him, "Teacher, all of these I have observed from my youth." Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, "You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." At that statement, his face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions.

Some time between the two great World Wars, C. S. Lewis delivered a controversial talk to a pacifist organization in England called, “Why I am not a Pacifist.” That would be like coming the I.C. Ladies Auxiliary and giving a talk called, “Why I am not a Catholic.” It was either very brave or very foolhardy. But I’d like to share a small section of it with you because today is Memorial Day, and we might well give some thought to war and peace, and why men and women would die for their country.

Of all Lewis’ preponderance of points against pacifism the one that touched me deepest was the argument of courage versus cowardice. Lewis contends soldiers face the worst evils (in fact they face all evils simultaneously), saying: “All that we fear from all kinds of adversity, severally, is collected together in the life of a solider on active service. Like sickness, it threatens pain and death. Like poverty, it threatens ill lodging, cold, heat, thirst and hunger. Like slavery, it threatens toil, humiliation, injustice, and arbitrary rule. Like exile, it separates you from all you love. Like the gallies, it imprisons you at close quarters with uncongenial companions. It threatens every temporal evil – every evil except dishonor and final perdition.”

That’s the courageous side that soldiers stand on, but pacifists have a much easier route to take. Lewis continues: “On the other hand, though it may not be your fault, it is certainly a fact that Pacifism threatens you with almost nothing. Some public opprobrium, yes, from people whose opinion you discount and whose society you do not frequent, soon recompensed by the warm mutual approval which exists, inevitably, in any minority group” (like the Ladies Auxiliary). The reason I mention Lewis’ essay today is to remind us why we celebrate Memorial Day: we honor those men and women who chose courage over cowardice. They did not choose war over peace; they chose patriotism rather than pacifism.

If we study the scriptures carefully we discover that courage is an indispensable virtue for every Christian. A rich young man approaches Jesus and declares his desire to follow Our Lord. Jesus answers: “Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come follow me.” We all know how the man reacted because that’s how most of us would have responded as well. “At that statement, his face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions.” It would take the courage of a soldier, who’s willing to part with all possessions, even the precious possession of life itself, to serve others, and to follow Jesus. Sooner or later our decision for or against discipleship will involve choosing between courage or cowardice, like a soldier chooses between patriotism and pacifism.

On this Memorial Day, therefore, I think we should do two things. First, take time to honor the women and men who have made the supreme sacrifice for patriotism, and let us pray for those who still are ready to make that sacrifice day after day, the “soldiers on active service.” Like Lewis said, they face “all adversities” combined at once. That takes profound courage. Second, let us muster up that same virtue in the face of the hurdles and harassments that keep us from following Jesus more closely. Maybe we will have to give up possessions, or perhaps lose our reputation, or maybe we’ll be corrected by others, or have to persevere in a vocation that feels fruitless and futile. Ruydard Kipling eloquently explained the value of courage in his poem “If” writing: “If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew / To serve your turn long after they are gone, / And so hold on when there is nothing in you / Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’”

At the end of the day, Christianity belongs only to those who are courageous and not cowardly. That’s to whom the future of this country will belong to as well.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Meet the Family

Getting to know others by getting to know their family

05/27/2018

Romans 8:14-17 Brothers and sisters: For those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a Spirit of adoption, through whom we cry, "Abba, Father!" The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if only we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.

Families are funny in many respects, but let me point out one special way today on the Feast of the Holy Trinity, the Family of God. I believe that you cannot really know any one person until you know the main members of their family. You cannot really know a husband until you know his wife (the better half!), or a wife until you meet the husband. You cannot really know parents until you know their kids nor the children until you meet the parents. Hence, the age-old adage, “the apple does not fall far from the tree.” The seeds of my identity are tucked away in the tree of my ancestors.

When a couple is dating and getting to know one another, what is the biggest step they take before the engagement? They bring their beloved home to meet the parents! Why is that so awkward (and terrifying) sometimes? It’s not only because we’re worried what our boyfriend or girlfriend will think of our parents, we’re also worried because our parents reveal something about us. In meeting my parents, you meet me! Isn’t this why older brothers are embarrassed by their younger brothers and why older sisters don’t want their little sisters tagging along? It’s not just that my little brother or little sister isn’t cool (like me and my friends are), but because in them there is something of me, they carry around something of the “uncoolness” I’m trying to hide from my friends. But that is the real me, and it’s hidden in my family. We feel the same discomfort when people see our aging parents, their struggles and silliness. We’re more worried what people will think of us than of our parents. When you meet my family, you’re really meeting the real me.

Today, on Holy Trinity Sunday we can finally say we know the Holy Trinity – the divine Family – because we’ve met all the members of that Family: the Father, the Son and the Spirit. Christians cannot really say they know God if they only know the Father, or if they only focus on Jesus, or if they’re only worried about the Holy Spirit. Each member of the divine Family holds the secret to the true identity of each other member. In the liturgical calendar, it is not by accident that the Feast of the Holy Trinity lands on the Sunday after the Feast of Pentecost. Why? Well, because at Pentecost, the Holy Spirit is revealed and we finally know who God is: Three Persons in one God. It’s only when we meet all the members of the divine Family that we can say we know each member better.

By the way, this is what makes Christianity so radically different from others major world religions. All other religions – Hinduism, Islam, Buddhism, etc. – is man’s attempt to get to know God through our smarts and savvy; we try to lift ourselves up to heaven by pulling on our own religious bootstraps. But in Judeo-Christianity alone does God reveal himself to us. Did you ever read that classic novel To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee? The three children, Jem, Scout and Dill are fascinated and afraid of a neighbor named “Boo Radley.” They don’t really know him because he stays hidden in his creepy house, but he gives them small gifts of his affection. They make wild guesses about the kind of person Boo is and their guesses are pretty wide of the mark. It isn’t until the end of the book when Boo saves the children that he reveals himself fully. All major world religions are like those three children guessing at the gifts that God sends us and who God is. Sometimes they’re right, sometimes wrong. But Christianity is like Jesus coming out of his heavenly house and saving us. And Jesus tells us who he is and introduces us to his Family of the Father and Spirit.

But Jesus does more than reveal who God is by telling us about his Father and sending us his Holy Spirit. He even goes so far as to adopt us into his divine Family. Here’s the really radical thing we celebrate today on Trinity Sunday: not only has God revealed himself to us as a divine Family, but he has made us members of that Family. St. Paul tells the Romans, “For those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.” And a verse later, he adds: “You received a Spirit of adoption through whom we cry, ‘Abba, Father!’” In other words, when see one another, we also get to know our divine Family because we are members of that family. In a sense, when I get to know you, I get to know the Holy Trinity better. And when I get to know the Holy Trinity better, I get to know you, just like when a couple madly in love meets their parents, they get to know each other better. In a true and terrifying sense, the seeds of God’s identity is hidden in me and you. Hopefully, God is not embarrassed by us as part of his Family, like we are sometimes embarrassed by our younger siblings.

Before Mass starts I gather the altar servers together to pray. Right before we walk out into the sanctuary, I remind them: “Your job is to make me look good, and my job is to make Jesus look good.” Obviously, the servers have a much harder job than I do. But that’s what we should do as siblings in the Family of God, the Holy Trinity. We should not be embarrassed by each other, but rather make each other look good, just like the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit always make each other look good. It’s only when you know the family someone belongs to that you finally know them.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Eye that Sees

Seeing how true faith avoids extremes of Manichees and magic

05/26/2018

Mark 10:13-16 People were bringing children to Jesus that he might touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this he became indignant and said to them, "Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the Kingdom of God like a child will not enter it." Then he embraced the children and blessed them, placing his hands on them.

The fundamental function of faith is to help us see below the surface of things, to glimpse more than meets the eyes. The Bible itself attests to this truth in Hebrews 11:1, “Faith is confident assurance of things unseen.” Faith helps us see the invisible. But being people of faith also requires us to take great care of what we do see, the material world, that even though we look beyond it, we don’t forget it.

Basically, we have to strike a balance between two extremes, which are really rooted in two heresies. On the one hand stands the error of the Manichees, who held that material things (like the human body) was corrupt and we need to be freed from it; we need to “shuffle off this mortal coil.” On the other hand, we have magic, which believes that material things (like a rosary or a scapular) have spiritual power in themselves apart from God. This is superstition plain and simple, and exaggerates the claims of matter. Faith’s function, then, is to help us see more than meets the eye, but it does not forget what we do see, and it does not forget the eye that sees. True faith always avoids the twin errors of the extremes positions of the Manichees and magic.

I believe the Catholics who built our church of the Immaculate Conception in 1901 were people of towering and tremendous faith, precisely because they struck this balance between the visible and the invisible, between matter and spirit, between earth and heaven. Consider this striking example. The large stained glass window on the south side, along Rogers Ave., tells the story of today’s gospel from Mark 10. Jesus rebukes the apostles and takes the children into his arms to bless them. I always read Mark 10 when I celebrate baptisms. Just like Jesus blessed children, so Catholics bless children with the grace of baptism. It’s okay to baptize babies!

Then, if you look to the opposite wall (above the north entry), you find the magnificent window depicting Pentecost, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Can you guess which of the seven sacraments that window reminds us of? That’s right: the sacrament of confirmation. And nestled in between those two sacraments of initiation is the sanctuary, the altar, where we celebrate the third sacrament of initiation, the Holy Eucharist. Using their vision of faith, the forefathers and foremothers of Immaculate Conception built an edifice of faith as beautiful as it is balanced. They point us beyond what is see, but never forget that matter matters, too. They could care less about the Manichees or about magic.

As you make your way through your own journey of faith, try to peer deeply into things and see below the surface level of the world. Here are some examples. Your marriage to your spouse is a symbol of the love between Jesus and his church; that’s its deepest reality. Or, as C. S. Lewis playfully said, “Sex is more than four bare legs in a bed.” Or take human history, which is more than merely the clash of political powers, or the surging of the blind forces of economics, but rather it is the stage upon which God’s providence directs all human activity, all ups and downs, all triumphs and tragedies. As Shakespeare famously said in the play “As You Like It,” “All the world’s a stage, / And all the men and women merely players; / They have their exits and their entrances.” In the end, we all do God’s bidding. Even creation is more than simply birds and bees, mountains and trees. For St. Francis of Assisi creation was a chorus of song that accompanies the angels in praising the glory of God. That is, people of faith cannot look at water or oil or bread or wine or a man or a woman simply on the surface; much more is going on.

The eyes of faith always behold a mystery that rejects both the Manichees and magic. Faith sees more than meets the eye, but it does not forget the eye that sees.

Praised be Jesus Christ!