Idolatry of Invention

Seeing progress in terms of the development of persons

09/27/2018

Ecclesiastes 1:2-11 Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth, vanity of vanities! All things are vanity! What profit has man from all the labor which he toils at under the sun? One generation passes and another comes, but the world forever stays. The sun rises and the sun goes down; then it presses on to the place where it rises. Blowing now toward the south, then toward the north, the wind turns again and again, resuming its rounds. All rivers go to the sea, yet never does the sea become full. To the place where they go, the rivers keep on going. All speech is labored; there is nothing one can say. The eye is not satisfied with seeing nor is the ear satisfied with hearing. What has been, that will be; what has been done, that will be done. Nothing is new under the sun. Even the thing of which we say, "See, this is new!" has already existed in the ages that preceded us.

The pace of the progress of new inventions and technological development is truly dizzying. This hits me every time I go home and try to explain a new feature on the smart phone to my parents. But before I get a big head, and think I am smart, a teenager shows me some new feature on a phone that was recently released and then I feel like the “old foggy stoggy.” Do you recall the cordless phone that allowed you to move all around the house without a cable connecting you to a wall jack? Now, the phone is not plugged into a wall, it is permanently plugged into some people’s ears. No sooner do we learn the ropes of one new invention than ten other inventions have replaced it. Development is dizzying.

But I would suggest to you that while we have enhanced our experience of nature (the world around us), human nature (the world within us) remains largely unaltered. I am doubtful that humanity’s evolution as persons and communities has kept pace with the progress of science and technology. Sometimes, though not always, we have only invented new ways to exploit, abuse, isolate and ridicule one another. C. S. Lewis made this astounding observation on the nature of inventions and its connection with human progress. He wrote: “The whole modern estimate of primitive man is based upon that idolatry of artefacts (he means inventions) which is a great corporate sin of our own civilization. We forget that our prehistoric ancestors made all the useful discoveries, except that of chloroform, which have ever been made. To them we owe language, the family, clothing, the use of fire, the domestication of animals, the wheel, the ship, poetry and agriculture” (The Problem of Pain, 68-69). In other words, the progress of nature has not been matched by a progress in human nature. We do not behave all that better than our primitive brothers and sisters; even though we may carry smart phones, we are not all that much smarter.

The Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes drives home this same point of true development vis-à-vis moral stagnation. We read: “What has been, that will be; what has been done, that will be done. Nothing is new under the sun.” Modern man, especially millennials, might rush to argue with ancient Qoheleth, saying that we can do things today that that old man could not dream of accomplishing. And that is true in many respects, but not in all, and perhaps not in the most important respect. Even though we have reached farther out to the stars – we actually put a man on the moon and not just sing about the man on the moon – have we reached any deeper into the human heart? That is, has there been a true and lasting progress of persons in truth, love, justice and mercy? When we shine the light on man’s march in moral development through time, we must agree with Qoholeth, “there is nothing new under the sun.” We continue to commit the same sins over and over, generation after generation.

May I suggest we measure the true value of any new inventions not only in terms of their novelty but also in terms of their ennobling of the human spirit? We must ask: does it make us better persons? For instance while social media connects us to more people – I have five thousand friends on facebook, aren’t you jealous? – does it help us love others better? Even though we enjoy faster and faster speeds of gathering information, has that made us any wiser? While we enjoy the freedom to surf the web from anywhere in the world, are we truly free or are we only fashioning new chains of slavery, addiction and dependency? If you want to test your freedom, just completely turn off your smart phone – not just switch it to vibrate or to airplane mode – and see how free you feel. In other words, if a particular invention or insight has not provided the human user an occasion for richer love, for deeper wisdom, for greater freedom, then it does not contribute to true human progress, but like Qoholeth predicted: “There is nothing new under the sun,” because human nature continues to commit the same sins over and over again. The same song, different verse.

In a word, if the pace of progress does not improve the human person, it does not deserve the name of progress at all.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Self-Emptying

Practicing kenosis in order to be more like Christ

09/26/2018

Luke 9:1-6 Jesus summoned the Twelve and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them to proclaim the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick. He said to them, "Take nothing for the journey, neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, nor money, and let no one take a second tunic. Whatever house you enter, stay there and leave from there. And as for those who do not welcome you, when you leave that town, shake the dust from your feet in testimony against them." Then they set out and went from village to village proclaiming the Good News and curing diseases everywhere.

The Greek word “kenosis” means self-emptying and Christians use that term to describe what Jesus underwent in his journey from heaven to earth. In order for God to become man – the Incarnation – not only did Jesus have to adopt a human nature, but for all practical purposes, he divested himself of his divine nature. Of course he was still fully God, but he rarely availed himself of his divine abilities, save for a few sparse miracles here and there.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen once compared Jesus kenosis to a man becoming a dog. Imagine having human intelligence but only being able to bark to express yourself, or the skills of playing the piano but only pawing the ground, or the desire to love but only licking someone’s face. I know some dogs that are smarter than some of my friends, but you get the point. Naturally, Jesus’ kenosis was far greater, but you get a little feel for how frustrating it would have been.

Interestingly, we must imitate our Lord’s kenosis when we embark on our journey from earth to heaven, that is, when we die. We experience a kind of kenosis, and I have been watching my parents’ painful passage in this respect. As they grow older they empty themselves of more and more. First, they lose their eyesight, then their hearing, then their teeth, then their ability to walk freely, then their ability to drive a car, then their ability to live in their own home, then their ability to feed themselves. A friend of mine said the hardest part of this kenosis is not being able to go to the bathroom by yourself, or sometimes even making it to the bathroom before you go! C. S. Lewis put it more pointedly referring to Jesus injunction not to sin: “You cannot take all luggage with you on all journeys; on one journey even your right hand and your right eye may be among the things you have to leave behind” (Preface to The Great Divorce). In other words, we spend the first half of life gathering, gathering, gathering, and the second half of life, giving, giving, giving, or at least we should. Jesus underwent a kenosis to enter this world; we must experience a kenosis to depart from this world.

Jesus explains in the gospel that kenosis must likewise characterize a true disciple’s Christian journey on earth, not just their departure. Our Lord instructs his apostles how to evangelize effectively, saying: “Take nothing for the journey, neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, nor money, and let no one take a second tunic.” Notice Jesus was not asking anything of his apostles that he had not accepted far more radically himself. For Jesus’ journey from heaven to earth, he had taken virtually nothing of his heavenly treasures: no angels, no glory, no power, just the love of his Father and obedience to his will. In a word, Jesus was inviting his apostles to be more like him, the imitatio Christi, the imitation of Christ, the core of Christianity. Whenever a disciple conforms himself that totally to Christ – by serious self-emptying – he or she will change the world just like Jesus did. A Christian should choose kenosis at the beginning of their journey with Jesus, not just at the end, when they are preparing to leave this world.

May I suggest seven ways of self-emptying kenosis? They correspond to the seven capital sins or vices, and are simply the spiritual equivalent of kenosis. Pride is being full of our own importance and ego. We empty ourselves of pride when we accept and acknowledge our mistakes and do not insist that our way is always the best way. Envy desires what you do not have that others possess, and to empty ourselves of envy we should rejoice in other’s achievements and compliment others frequently and freely. Have you noticed how much I compliment Fr. Stephen – now you know why! We empty ourselves of greed by giving to the poor and in the Sunday collection. We need to experience the kenosis of gluttony by not indulging our appetites for food and drink. And we empty ourselves of excess weight, too. We divest ourselves of lust by practicing chastity and continence, which requires letting go of satisfying that sexual instinct. We experience the self-emptying of sloth or laziness when we do not become a couch potato but busy ourselves with spiritual activities. We empty ourselves of anger when we practice patience with those who get under our skin or push our buttons. Each deadly sin indicates an area to exercise kenosis as a Christian because that is what Christ did.

The Old Testament book of Job teaches: “Naked I came forth from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return there” (Job 1:21). No one could say that more sincerely than our Savior Jesus when he came to earth. He denuded himself of his divinity. The more we can say that ourselves, the more we will be like Christ, and the more blessed we will be.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Questions and Answers

Learning how to ask and answer questions

09/23/2018

Mark 9:30-37 Jesus and his disciples left from there and began a journey through Galilee, but he did not wish anyone to know about it. He was teaching his disciples and telling them, “The Son of Man is to be handed over to men and they will kill him, and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise.” But they did not understand the saying, and they were afraid to question him. They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house, he began to ask them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they remained silent. They had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest. Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them, “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.”

It is said that a good teacher never asks a question that he or she does not already know the answer to. When a teacher asks a question it is not for the sake of her education but rather for the students’ instruction. Sometimes these questions are called “loaded questions” because they are never as simple as they sound. For instance when I visit parishioners’ homes for supper, I offer to bless their home. I sometimes ask them: “Do you know how to make holy water?” They guess various answers, but I explain: “You take some tap water and boil the hell out of it.” That’s an old joke, but it’s the question that makes people think. Have you watched any of the Senate confirmation hearings of Judge Brett Kavanaugh for the Supreme Court? Every question a senator asks is fully loaded. It is intended to elicit an answer either to make Judge Kavanaugh look highly qualified or highly incompetent. And then sometimes the questions are so loaded that the answer is the question itself. Remember the old Abbot and Costello comedy routine called, “Who’s on first?” You might remember the answer was identical to the question: “Who is on first.” Good teachers never ask questions they do not already know the answer to, and thereby they can teach more through one question than a hundred answers.

Jesus asks a question in the gospel of Mark as he walks along with his apostles to make them think a little more deeply about discipleship. He asks: “What were you arguing about on the way?” Now, Jesus is not just a “good teacher,” or even the “best teacher,” he is the only Teacher, and consequently all others – everyone without exception – is disciple and student. Did Jesus not know what they were discussing? Of course he did, in spite of their sheepish silence. After laying the ground-work with that provocative question, he explains that discipleship is about service and humility, not about pomp and pageantry or a popularity contest, something our modern Catholic hierarchy is learning in the wake of the sex abuse scandals.

Think about the incisive inquires that Jesus makes in the gospels. They are never idle or ignorant, but always insightful and instructive. Each one provokes his listeners to profound personal reflection. In John 2 at the wedding in Cana when the couple ran out of wine, Jesus asks his mother, “Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come.” Jesus indicates how persuasive his mother’s intercessory prayers are, which prompted his first miracle. In John 8 with the woman caught in adultery, Jesus ask her, “Where are your accusers? Is there no one to condemn you?”  That question suggests that God alone judges justly. In Mark 10 when approached by the rich young man, Jesus asks him: “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” Our Lord implies that the rich young man was correct: Jesus is good because he is God. In virtually every encounter, like in today’s gospel, Jesus always asks loaded questions, and just one of Jesus’ questions can teach you more than a hundred answers you can get from Google.

My friends, we find similarly loaded questions not only scattered throughout Scriptures, we can also find them strategically placed in the sacraments. In baptism the priest asks the parents: “It will be your duty to bring your child up to keep God’s commandments as Christ taught us…Do you clearly understand what you are undertaking?” But how many Catholics parents fail to bring their children faithfully to Mass every Sunday? Notice how the question teaches. In marriage the priest asks the couple: “Are you prepared, as you follow the path of Marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?” I always add, “Until one of you is six feet under, and pushing up daisies!?”  But how many couples on their wedding day stop and seriously ponder the problems that pop-up in the course of a life-long commitment? The question that instructs. In the ordination of a priest, the bishop asks the young man: “Do you promise obedience to me and my successors?” And I have to say often obedience has felt a lot harder than chastity and poverty combined, especially when you have been moved 18 times in 22 years. In each and every sacrament, we are asked critical questions, really loaded questions. A mature Christian knows not only what the right answers should be, but also pauses to ponder the question itself. One sacramental question can teach us more than an infinite number of answers we find on the internet because they reveal not only the truth about God, but also the truth about ourselves; who we are and who we are not.

Every year when we start the RCIA classes for those interested in Catholicism, I welcome the inquirers and ask them why they want to become Catholic. Of course, it is good that family and friends encourage them to consider Catholicism, but that alone is not enough reason to dive into the Catholic ocean. Rather, they should ask themselves: “Does God want me to become a Catholic?” And only the individual can find the answer to the questions deep inside their own heart. Why should they ask themselves that question? Well, because eventually they will stand before God on Judgment Day and he will ask them a question: “Why did you become a Catholic?” And the only good answer on that day will be if they can honestly say: “Well, Lord, it is because I thought you wanted me to.” That will be only good answer for anything we choose to do while we walk on this earth, because we believe it is God’s will.

That question God asks us on Judgment Day will be the most loaded question of all. Why? It will be loaded with our eternal destiny. But, like any good teacher, God will already know the answer to that question before he asks us. And that question will teach us who is in heaven, and who is in hell, and who is on first.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Corruptio Optimi (Corruption of the Best)

Living between the two poles of corruption and conversion

09/21/2018

Matthew 9:9-13 As Jesus passed by, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post. He said to him, "Follow me." And he got up and followed him. While he was at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners came and sat with Jesus and his disciples. The Pharisees saw this and said to his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" He heard this and said, "Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, I desire mercy, not sacrifice. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners."

There is an ancient adage in Latin that teaches: “corruptio optimi, pessima.” Translated, that means “the corruption of the best is the worst.” In more modern lingo we might say: “The higher they climb, the harder they fall.” It seems every day the evening news serves up new examples of the fall of those who rose to the heights in politics, in corporations, in entertainment.

But the classic example of this colossal collapse from a Christian point of view is the fall of Lucifer, the great angel of light. Revelation 12:7-9 describes the pre-historic war in heaven when Lucifer and one third of his angelic followers were hurled out of heaven by St. Michael the Archangel. According to later tradition, we learn Lucifer was the brightest and more brilliant of all the angels, and his fall from grace created a wide wake of woe that reaches us even today whenever we too are tempted to follow that fallen angel, the devil. To no one else could that Latin adage be applied more aptly than to Lucifer, “corruptio optimi, pessima.” The best becomes the worst.

But this Latin phrase also has a counterpart, its opposite, that is, when corruption is counteracted by conversion. If the corruption of the best is the worst, then the conversion of the worst is the best. Again, from a Christian, biblical perspective, an eminent example of the worst becoming the best occurred on the road to Damascus, and the conversion of Saul the feared Pharisee into Paul the fearless apostle. Think about this remarkable reversal: all the same great gifts of intelligence, zeal, courage and compassion that Pharisee Saul employed to tear down the church brick by brick, St. Paul turned around and used to build up the church stone by living stone. Sadly, the corruption of the best is the worst, but fortunately, the conversion of the worst becomes the best.

On September 21, the Church celebrates the feast of St. Matthew. Matthew was another preeminent example of how the conversion of the worst can become the best. Matthew was a tax-collector and considered the worst kind of Jew because he collaborated with the Roman authorities in levying taxes on his Jewish brothers and sisters. He was a traitor to his countrymen. How often the Pharisees found fault with Jesus, who ate with tax-collectors and prostitutes. Both professions were equally evil in the eyes of the self-righteous Pharisees. But Jesus knows well that while the corruption of the best is the worst – like in the case of Lucifer – he also believes the conversion of the worst is the best – like with Paul and Matthew.

Pope Francis describes the moment in which Jesus looked at St. Matthew and called him at his tax-collector’s post, using a Latin phrase, “miserando atque eligendo.” The pope put that phrase on his papal coat of arms because it captures the core of his papacy. It means Jesus looked with mercy and chose the tax-collector-turned-apostle. The key that unlocks the heart of Matthew is Jesus’ look, a look full of mercy. It is sometimes said “If looks could kill…” and I have shot that look a few times at altar servers at Mass. But looks can also heal hearts and save sinners, especially a loving look from Jesus. Matthew never forgot that memorable and merciful look that Jesus shot him that day at his custom’s post.

Today, our deanery observes a day of prayer and penance. We pray for and about two things happening today in the Church, which I would suggest are summarized by these two Latin phrases. First of all, we are witnessing the corruptio optimi pessima, the corruption of the best is the worst, in the clergy sexual abuse crisis. The corruption of some priests and bishops, even archbishops and cardinals, have become the worst in our church. The abuse of minors by priests was followed up by the cover up of those crimes by bishops. We rightly hold our clergy to high standards, but that also inescapably means that their fall from grace will have devastating consequences. The higher they climb, the harder they fall.

But I believe the second Latin phrase is more powerful than the first and can even reverse its effects, miserando atque eligendo, Jesus looked with mercy and called him. We plead with Jesus to look at us with mercy today, at a church that repents of our sins, seeks forgiveness, and begs for the grace of renewal so we can be his apostles again. We ask Jesus to look at all victims of sexual abuse and heal their broken hearts and their broken lives with his mercy. We pray Jesus looks at the whole world obsessed with money, sex and power – the three ingredients in the cocktail of clergy corruption – and rehabilitate a world that is drunk. It is true that looks can kill, but one look from Jesus can save, and change corruption into conversion.

St. John Vianney, patron saint of diocesan priests, had a holy habit of going into his parish church to pray in front of the Blessed Sacrament. He described his simple but saintly prayer technique saying: “I sit down in front of the Blessed Sacrament, and I look at Jesus, and he looks at me.” It only takes one loving look from the Lord to change us from the worst version of ourselves to the best version of ourselves.  Don’t believe me, just ask St. Matthew.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Complaints and Complicity

Seeing our own faults as we notice those of others

09/20/2018

Luke 7:36-50 A certain Pharisee invited Jesus to dine with him, and he entered the Pharisee's house and reclined at table. Now there was a sinful woman in the city who learned that he was at table in the house of the Pharisee. Bringing an alabaster flask of ointment, she stood behind him at his feet weeping and began to bathe his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them, and anointed them with the ointment. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, that she is a sinner." Jesus said to him in reply, "Simon, I have something to say to you." "Tell me, teacher," he said. "Two people were in debt to a certain creditor; one owed five hundred days' wages and the other owed fifty. Since they were unable to repay the debt, he forgave it for both. Which of them will love him more?" Simon said in reply, "The one, I suppose, whose larger debt was forgiven." He said to him, "You have judged rightly."

Many years ago I learned a clever little come-back when someone complains about me or criticizes me. I would say: “It takes one to know one.” That is, if you lay blame on me for being lazy or protest that I am prejudiced, then I reply, “Takes one to know one,” meaning there’s a little laziness and prejudice in the accuser, too. Every complaint carries within it a little complicity; every accusation is always strangely autobiographical.

The classic example of the complicity of complaining is Queen Gertrude’s now infamous line in Shakespeare’s play Hamlet. Hamlet believes his uncle murdered his father and married his mother, Gertrude. Hamlet wants to induce the guilty couple to confess their sins so he shows them a play in which an almost identical incident unfolds, especially the player queen who expresses undying love for her husband. At that moment, Hamlet asks his mother, “Madam, how do you like this play?” To which, the real queen irritatedly responds, “The lady dost protest too much, methinks” (Hamlet, III, 2). Gertrude’s complaint about the play unveiled her complicity; she did not love her own husband (Hamlet’s father) as much as she should have. There can be found an autobiographical element in every accusation. Why? Well, because it always takes one to know one.

The gospel gives us another glimpse of the complicity contained in every complaint when Jesus dines at the home of a leading Pharisee, Simon. A sinful woman bursts into the formal dinner and bursts open an alabaster jar of ointment to bless Jesus’ feet. The jar was a symbol of her heart that burst with love for the Lord, but the Pharisee felt nothing. Instead, he complains in his own mind about Jesus and the sinner: “If this man were a prophet, he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, that she is a sinner.” Notice the complicity of guilt in the Pharisee’s complaint: he believes Jesus cannot tell a sinner when he sees one. But Jesus has not missed that the Pharisee is himself a sinner, and so tells a short story about two people forgiven their debts – much like the play Hamlet had devised – to reveal the guilt of the Pharisee. In other words, there was something autobiographical in the accusation of the Pharisee standing in self-righteous judgment over the sinful woman, namely, that he, too, is a sinner. It always “takes one to know one.” That does not mean you are the exact same sort of person, but it does mean you struggle with your own sins. We are all sinners, and every complaint and accusation reveals a little of our complicity and our autobiography.

Tomorrow our deanery will observe a day of prayer and penance to respond to the clergy sexual abuse scandal. Some people may wonder: “Why should I do penance when I did not abuse a child? If I am not guilty of that sin and scandal, why must I fast and abstain?” Well, each member of the church makes up a part of the Body of Christ, as St. Paul eloquently explains in 1 Corinthians 12. We celebrate victories together and we endure failures together. Further, St. Paul wrote in Colossians 1:24, “I fill up in my own flesh what is lacking the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the Church.” We suffer for each other, even the innocent for the guilty, like parents who suffer for the sins of their children.

But there is another reason for this day of prayer and penance, namely, no one is entirely innocent or guilt-free when it comes to sin. We should not hesitate to call sin a sin, especially child abuse and cover up, but in the same breath we should not be shy to accuse ourselves as sinners, too, as Simon the Pharisee should have done. While we tell Jesus to be sure and notice what terrible sinners some priests and bishops are, realize Jesus is also acutely aware of what terrible sinners you and I are as well. In our own ways, perhaps not as egregiously as the clergy who abused minors, we have sinned sexually, we have abused power, we have manipulated others, we have lied to conceal our faults. Every time someone opens their mouth to utter a complaint against someone, they likewise manifest a little of their own complicity.

When Gertrude complained: “The lady doth protest too much, methinks!” it was really Gertrude who was protesting too much. It was her guilt that was on display. Be careful the next time you want to wag your finger in front of someone’s nose and complain about their behavior; there are always three fingers pointing back at you.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Sabbath of Sabbaths

Seeing Yom Kippur through Christian eyes

09/19/2018

1 Corinthians 12:31-13:13 Brothers and sisters: Strive eagerly for the greatest spiritual gifts. But I shall show you a still more excellent way. If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, love is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Much of the fruit we bear as Christian trees comes from our Jewish roots. Have you started to notice how many of your personal traits and traditions are thanks to your parents proclivities? Let me tell you about one Catholic custom that comes from our Hebrew heritage. We will treat this coming Friday, September 21, as a Day of Prayer and Penance to atone for the clergy abuse scandal. But we did not invent that idea of prayer and penance out of thin air. Rather, we actually are reaching back into an ancient Jewish tradition called “Yom Kippur” or “Day of Atonement.” And this year, 2018, Yom Kippur is observed today, September 19, and that is why I am mentioning it. Understanding the Jewish faith a little better will help you deepen your Christian faith, just like studying your genealogy helps you know yourself better.

Let me just tell you two things about Yom Kippur, namely, the meaning of the penance and the prayer that are central today. First the penance consists of five practices of self-punishment. (1) No eating or drinking, (2) no wearing leather shoes, (3) no bathing or washing (that should be easy for some of you), (4) no anointing oneself with lotions or perfumes (no Axe body spray for men), (5) no marital relations. If you do not know what “marital relations” are, please ask Mrs. Kay Williams, who teaches health. Don’t ask me, I’m just a priest. These five penances were self-imposed punishments.

Secondly, the prayer consisted of the high priest entering the Holy of Holies and sprinkling the blood of a bull (not a buffalo) before the Ark of the Covenant, and offering incense. The priest killed a bull because the people worshiped a golden bull on Mt. Sinai in Exodus 32. Just like an alcoholic must sacrifice beer and wine because he once worshiped it (he was a slave to it) , so the people sacrifice a bull because they once worshiped it (they were slaves to it). The penance and prayer, therefore, were remedies for disordered love: the Jews had loved God too little, and they had loved the bull too much. In other words, the penance and prayer was to get their love back on track. Yom Kippur was to rehabilitate love, and that same purpose motivates our Day of Prayer and Penance on Friday, because the clergy have loved minors and small children way too little, and so have some bishops who covered up those crimes, and loved other people’s opinions of them too much.

In today’s celebrated passage of St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians – a popular pick for weddings – we hear that penance is for the sake of correcting misdirected love. St. Paul writes: “If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.” That is, we pray and we do penance so we learn to love better. If our self-imposed punishments this coming Friday did not help us love more, it would be a waste of time.  Learning to love is the point of penance.

Boys and girls, Yom Kippur helped the Jews to recognize when they loved something too little or loved something too much, and it helped them get their love back on track. Our Day of Prayer and Penance is to atone for the lack of love by clergy toward minors. But it should also make all of us ask ourselves: have I ever loved too little, or loved too much?

Some students may love themselves too little. For example, some engaging in cutting themselves, and punishing themselves by wounding themselves on their arms or legs. Other students beat themselves up when they make mistakes in sports or band or cheer or dance. Midterms grades just came out: are your satisfied with your grades, or are you being too hard on yourself even though you gave it your best? Be careful not to love yourself too little.

Other students may love other people’s opinions too much, and only care what others say. Peer pressure is powerful in junior high, but it too is simply love gone wild. Have you ever used snapchat to belittle other students, while trying to make yourself look big? That is loving other people’s opinions too much. Sometimes we have to sacrifice what we worship because we love it too much, like the Jews sacrificed bulls and alcoholics sacrifice beer. Yom Kippur is the Day of Atonement, a day of practicing prayer and penance to learn to love better. That is why we need a Christian Yom Kippur this coming Friday. When we love perfectly, we will no longer need self-imposed punishments.

I tend to compare the Jewish Yom Kippur to our Christian Good Friday because that is our Christian day of suffering and sacrifice and we feel sad. But the Jews did not look at it that way at all; they called Yom Kippur the “Sabbath of Sabbaths,” or as we might say the “Sunday of Sundays” - a day of celebration and rejoicing. Why? Well, we read in the Jewish Talmud: “This holiday is happy because it brings about reconciliation with God and with other people. Thus, if they have observed it properly, many people feel a deep sense of serenity by the end of the fast.” In other words, the purpose of prayer and penance is happiness and peace. Christians can learn a lot about themselves by looking at our Jewish genealogy.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Calling All Catholics!

Announcing a Deanery Day of Prayer and Penance

09/16/2018

We invite all Catholics in the greater Fort Smith-Van Buren area to a “Day of Prayer and Penance” for the sexual abuse scandal in the Church. First and foremost we will pray for healing for the victims, and secondly, for renewal in the Catholic Church.

We will retrieve an ancient biblical practice of fasting and abstinence (see Jesus’ fasting in the desert in Mt. 3), and treat Friday, September 21, 2018 essentially like Good Friday. That is, we will abstain from eating meat and eat only one normal meal and two smaller meals (think: two snacks) that day.

At 6 p.m. Friday evening, the priests of the deanery will celebrate a Mass at Christ the King in honor of St. Matthew (whose feast day is Sept. 21), and for the intention of “reparation of sins.” Immediately following the Mass, we will hold a Holy Hour with Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, a period of silence, and recitation of the Divine Mercy Chaplet.

Finally, we suggest you consider the on-going personal penance of abstaining from meat on all Fridays, as well as possibly daily recitation of the Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel, ideally included at the end of the Rosary. These practices are part of the much-needed spiritual renewal of the Church.

When the disciples could not expel an especially stubborn demon, they were perplexed and asked, “Why could we not expel it?” Jesus answered them, “This kind does not come out except by prayer and fasting” (Mt. 17:21). May our prayer and fasting rid the Church of the stubborn demon of sexual abuse!

Sorrow and Strength

Learning maternal love in the midst of the clergy crisis

09/15/2018

John 19:25-27 Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved he said to his mother, "Woman, behold, your son." Then he said to the disciple, "Behold, your mother." And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

We can find few things in this world as strong and sturdy as a mother’s love for her child. The prophet Isaiah even employed it as an analogy for how great God’s love is, asking rhetorically: “Can a mother forget her infant or be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget I will never forget you.” That is, God’s love surpasses even a mother’s love, incredible as that is to imagine.

But there is a downside to such strong love, namely, severe sorrow. The more perfect the love the more piercing the sorrow. Those who experience great love will also experience great sorrow, and no one knows that better than a mother when she sees her child suffer. I have witnessed the depths of maternal sorrow born of maternal love watching my sister-in-law’s anguish in losing her first born son. Those who love much are susceptible to suffer much.

I think new light can be shed on the clergy abuse scandal if we look at it through the eyes of a mother, and through the heart of a mother. Would the cries and claims of innocent victims have fallen on deaf ears if the Church had listened with a mother’s love? Pope Francis said clericalism lies at the core of the clergy abuse crisis which is essentially a lack of maternal love. On August 25 in Ireland, the Holy Father said: “Sexual abuse is the consequence of abuse of power and of conscience…The abuse of power exists. Who among us does not know an authoritarian bishop? Forever in the Church there have been authoritarian bishops and religious superiors. And authoritarianism is clericalism” (Crux, Sept. 13, 2018). Pope Francis suggests that if bishops had possessed the tender love of a mother, the clergy crisis could have been crushed before it commenced. Bishops should have felt the fury of a momma bear when her cubs are threatened. The strength of a mother’s love could have prevented the sorrow of the clergy crisis.

September 15 is the annual celebration of Our Lady of Sorrows and highlights how much a mother can suffer because of how much a mother can love. Traditionally, the Church meditates on seven sorrows of Mother Mary. They are: (1) the prophesy of Simeon predicting the sword piercing Mary’s heart, (2) the flight into Egypt, (3) the loss of the child Jesus in the Temple, (4) Jesus and Mary meeting on the way of the Cross, (5) the crucifixion on Calvary, (6) the taking down of Jesus’ body from the Cross, called in Greek “apokathelosis,” and (7) the burial of Jesus in a new tomb. Even though Mary did not become a momma bear as she watched her Son’s suffering on Golgotha, her immaculate heart must have shattered into a million pieces every time the hammer hit the nail in Jesus’ hands. How much every mother’s heart hurts when she beholds her child’s pain and feels powerless to protect him or her! A mother’s heart loves her child like no other heart, but Mary’s heart loved most perfectly because she had no sin and neither did her Son. Perfect love suffers the most profound sorrow. The strength of love also makes inevitable the sorrow of love.

May I suggest that Mother Mary be our teacher in learning lesson of love, especially its strength and its sorrows? I think we can learn at least three lessons meditating on Mary’s heart and her sorrows. First, Mary can give us fresh eyes on how to deal with the clergy crisis, both by looking backward and seeing what went wrong, and by looking forward and seeing what needs to be set right. She can counteract that uncaring clericalism in the Church with the strength of maternal love. Second, she can help us be open to the contribution of women in understanding and growing in faith and fortitude. Pope St. John Paul II coined the catchy phrase “feminine genius.” We priests must listen and learn from women, especially mothers because they can enormously enrich the Church’s faith and fortitude. Put simply: a mother never stops loving. And third, mothers can help us prepare policies and procedures to protect the innocent and prosecute and punish the guilty. Mothers have an innate sense of justice and fairness as they adjudicate disputes like Judge Judy with their children, who often interact like plaintiff and defendant in the domestic courtroom. Mothers are great judges.

Love is a two-sided coin: on the one side is strength and on the other side is sorrow. Those who love much will suffer much sorrow. If you are feeling deep sorrow dealing with the clergy crisis, take heart – that means you have great love. But not as much love or sorrow as Mother Mary.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Hierarchy and Lowerarchy

Learning how to love the sinner and hate the sin in this crisis

09/13/2018

Luke 6:27-38 Jesus said to his disciples: "To you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. To the person who strikes you on one cheek, offer the other one as well, and from the person who takes your cloak, do not withhold even your tunic. "Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap. For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you."

Last week a priest friend of mine made an astute observation about the clergy abuse scandal. He remarked that while the scandal in 2002 focused on the failure of priests in protecting minors, the present scandal zeros in on bishops and their blunders in both protecting children and punishing priests. You might say the bishops are the “hierarchy” while the priests are the “lowerarchy.” Both levels of church leadership have evinced egregious failures in governing the faithful. As you know, the suffix “archy” means to rule, to govern. Now, it is true that Christians are called to love the sinner even as we hate the sin, but in the case of clergy sexual abuse, I am afraid we have not hated the sin enough, and we have been too eager to love the sinner. Indeed, the ones we have failed to love the most are the victims who have suffered, and still do, in irremediable ways.

Many years ago I read an insightful essay by C. S. Lewis called “The Trouble with X.” He argued that while we work to correct other people’s faults, we not overlook our own. Our own sins are the ones we are in the best position to correct, and really the only ones we can correct. Lewis wrote: “That is the next step in wisdom – to realize that you also are just that sort of person. You also have a fatal flaw in your character. All the hopes and plans of others have again and again shipwrecked on your character just as your hopes and plans have shipwrecked on theirs.” When I read that line, we I felt exactly the same as I did at the end of the movie “Sixth Sense,” when Bruce Willis finally figures out he, too, is one of those dead people the little boy is seeing and helping. It was memorable moment of self-awareness. The one single person toward whom we find no difficulty at all in loving the sinner but hating the sin is the one staring back in the mirror, ourselves. And there, too, we fall woefully short of hating the sin enough - meaning we excuse ourselves too easily - just like with the clergy abuse crisis.

Jesus speaks categorically and clearly about not judging others in the gospel of Luke, but we should be careful not to take his words too far. Our Lord teaches: “Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven.” But Jesus did not therefore mean, “live and let live,” or the trite slogan, “I’m okay, you’re okay.” Recall how relentlessly Jesus excoriated the Jewish leadership, both hierarchy and lowerarchy, Pharisees and scribes, calling them “white washed tombs filled with dead men’s bones” in Matthew 23. In other words, while Jesus loved the sinner – he cannot help himself since he is the love of the Father made flesh – he was nevertheless merciless on the sin itself. That delicate balance of both judgment and mercy, accountability and compassion, should govern our attitude in approaching the clergy sexual abuse crisis and in assessing our own personal sins and failures. Love the sinner, yes, but truly and tirelessly hate the sin, especially when we find sin in our own hearts.

May I ask you to pray for all the victims of this abuse crisis, those for whom we have lacked enough love to take their claims seriously? But I also beg your prayers for the whole Church, in particular for the priests and bishops, the lowerarchy and hierarchy, that we not love the sinner too much and hate the sin too little. We have been guilty of that lately. We are enduring a time of profound crisis, to be sure, but it also holds the hope of being a moment of great renewal. We are witnessing the dawning of the awareness that no one is above the law, not even those entrusted with administering the laws of God. Everyone is being held accountable in the court of public opinion, that is, in the social media and in the printed press.

But I would also suggest to you, like C. S. Lewis urged, even if we somehow eschew the court of public opinion, we still drag ourselves into the court of personal opinion. That we be our own toughest critic, our own judge, jury and executioner, and relentlessly hate our own sins while we love the sinner in the mirror. And that goes for the hierarchy and the lowerarchy, too.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Feeling Catholic

Learning to let go to feelings to find our faith

09/12/2018

Luke 6:20-26 Raising his eyes toward his disciples Jesus said: "Blessed are you who are poor, for the Kingdom of God is yours. Blessed are you who are now hungry, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who are now weeping, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude and insult you, and denounce your name as evil on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice and leap for joy on that day! Behold, your reward will be great in heaven.  For their ancestors treated the prophets in the same way.

Almost overnight it feels very different to be a Catholic. To be honest in the past few weeks I have experienced the full range of feelings – from anger to sadness to bewilderment to betrayal – and now mostly I just feel numb. Maybe you felt a lot of emotions as you watched the news yesterday about our bishop’s decision to release the names of priests who have been credibly accused of child abuse. Even though the actual publication of that news occurred on Monday, it did not become widespread and commonplace until yesterday, ironically, on the infamous date of September 11.

John Allen Jr., a well-respected reporter on Catholic news, made that connection between our country and our Church on this date. He wrote: “If Church leaders were to stay in this pensive mood for a bit and play out the comparison to 9/11, it might be worth considering whether, in either case, the institutions targeted have truly learned their lessons” (Crux, September 12, 2018). One implication of such a comparison might be that just as many Americans felt numb after 9/11, so many Catholics may feel bereft of emotions after our own 9/11, however imprecise that comparison maybe.

Up until I watched last night’s newscast, I always felt proud and pleased to be a priest, but afterwards, I felt ashamed and awkward. I can’t help but wonder what people think when they see me in public with my Roman collar. I could safely assume in the past that most people held Catholic priests in high esteem, but now I suspect they hold us in low esteem or no esteem. But one good thing has come from this flood of feelings, and that is I remembered that true faith does not rest on our feelings but on a fact: God’s love for us manifest in Jesus, who suffered, died and rose again for us. Once all our feelings fly away, when we feel nothing at all and are numb, we can discover our faith again, faith in the person of Jesus.  And it is our faith that is fundamental.

Jesus knew we might rely too much on our feelings instead of real and raw faith so he predicted times like today, when we would not feel very good about being his followers. Our Lord taught: “Blessed are you who are poor, for the Kingdom of God is yours. Blessed are you who are now weeping, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude and insult you, and denounce your name as evil on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice and be glad on that day! Behold, your reward will be great in heaven.” Obviously, Jesus is not referring to the clergy guilty of child abuse, but we know how a few bad apples can spoil the whole bunch, and all Catholics are seen by some outside the Church as guilty by association, at least we Catholic priests are. But Jesus’ larger point is that it will not always feel good to be his disciple, but in precisely those moments we will be blessed because we will have found faith in him, and no longer follow our Lord for a feeling.  Faith, and not our feelings, is what is fundamental.

Folks, how are you feeling about your faith in these troubling times? Are you glad or sad or mad? Or maybe you are like me and feel numb, emotionally exhausted, and just wish we could finish this chapter and turn this page of church history and move on. But maybe we should stop and reflect in the middle of this crisis and focus on our feelings, or the lack of feeling, and realize that faith was never a feeling at all. Rather, faith is an act, a choice, a response of love to Someone who has loved us first, Jesus. Every romantic relationship reaches a pivotal point when the feelings fail and then the couple must make a choice to move forward without the feelings that sustained them thus far. I would suggest to you that is when the real relationship is born, when true love enters the picture. It is only when our feelings fail us that we find true love, and our faith.

Let me conclude with a line from Scott Hahn’s book called The Creed, where he indicates the inestimable value of faith for a Christian. Hahn wrote: “To confess the faith of Christians was a matter of enormous consequence. To confess faith in Jesus was to accept the stigma he bore – to agree to share his inglorious death – in hope of a share in his glorious Resurrection” (The Creed, 33). In other words, sometimes we have to forget our feelings in order to find our faith. And it is our faith that will save us, not our feelings.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Fog and Faith

Navigating through the fog of this world with faith

09/10/2018

Luke 6:6-11 On a certain sabbath Jesus went into the synagogue and taught, and there was a man there whose right hand was withered. The scribes and the Pharisees watched him closely to see if he would cure on the sabbath so that they might discover a reason to accuse him. But he realized their intentions and said to the man with the withered hand, "Come up and stand before us." And he rose and stood there. Then Jesus said to them, "I ask you, is it lawful to do good on the sabbath rather than to do evil, to save life rather than to destroy it?" Looking around at them all, he then said to him, "Stretch out your hand." He did so and his hand was restored. But they became enraged and discussed together what they might do to Jesus.

Are you familiar with the word “perspicacious”? You can really impress your friends at cocktail parties if you casually use it in a sentence. It means “having a ready insight into and understanding of things.” It is the uncanny ability to pierce and penetrate the veil of what is visible. Now the funny part is how the same person can be perspicacious about some things but oblivious about others.

When I was an associate priest I served under Msgr. Hebert in Little Rock, who was a gourmet chef, and also perspicacious about a great many other areas. I, however, was not. Whenever I returned from someone’s home for supper, he invariably inquired: “So, John, what did they serve for supper?” I scratched my head and replied: “Well, uh, they had some kind of meat, and maybe a vegetable, and I think we also had dessert.” Before I could finish my Pulitzer prize description, he put up his hand and said, “Stop. Just stop.” But even though I was “out to lunch” when it came to culinary details, I had a keen memory for conversations. I would warn my hosts: “Be careful what you say to me, it may end up in next Sunday’s sermon.” You can see how Msgr. Hebert’s words wound their way into today’s homily, as an aid to understanding. To be perspicacious, therefore, means an ability to perceive and penetrate beyond the veil that covers the visible world. In the spiritual world, such perspicacity is simply called “faith.”

The Pharisees are also perspicacious people, but tragically not about the right things. St. Luke explains in one line how misguided they were in using their gifts. When Jesus teaches in a synagogue on a Sabbath, a poor man with a withered hand is present. St. Luke writes: “The scribes and Pharisees watched him closely to see if he would cure on the Sabbath so that they might discover a reason to accuse him.” They want to be perspicacious, have ready insight and penetrate the veil of Jesus’ human nature, not in order to believe and convert, but in order to blame and condemn. Romano Guardini, put it picturesquely, writing: “The form of one approaching through a fog is at first ambiguous. It can be almost anyone. Only two will know him: he who loves him and he who hates him. God preserve us from the sharpsightedness that comes from hell” (The Lord, 299). The Pharisees blindly beheld Jesus, like I beheld a gourmet meal: with no insight or appreciation into what was placed before me, that is, no perspicacity, no faith. The only way to see through the fog is with faith.

The Catholic Church is contending with her own fog as we peer through the clergy abuse scandal. Bishop Taylor will meet with all the priests in Little Rock today to talk about how we will drive through this fog using our faith. Next Sunday, he will send a homily to be preached at all Masses so that our faith might dispel this fog of scandal, sin and sadness. Please pray for us priests.

Another cause of the fog is self-centeredness and a lack of other-centeredness. When we are too self-absorbed in a conversation – worrying about what we will say next – we cannot hear what other people say with their words. How often we feel someone is not really listening when we speak. Archbishop Sartain, our former bishop, said “a good priest not only contemplates the Scriptures, he must contemplate his people.” That can be applied to every Christian, and that keen insight would give us faith to see through the fog.

As you come forward to the altar for Communion in a few moments, ask yourself, “What do I see?” Are you like Msgr. Hebert and see a gourmet meal of faith, or are you like me and cannot see beyond the fog of bread and wine? Answering that question will tell you how spiritually perspicacious you are, whether your faith will help you navigate the fog of this life.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Good Guys

Learning to see the goodness and grace on all sides

09/05/2018

1 Corinthians 3:1-9 Brothers and sisters, I could not talk to you as spiritual people, but as fleshly people, as infants in Christ. I fed you milk, not solid food, because you were unable to take it. Indeed, you are still not able, even now, for you are still of the flesh. While there is jealousy and rivalry among you, are you not of the flesh, and walking according to the manner of man? Whenever someone says, "I belong to Paul," and another, "I belong to Apollos," are you not merely men? What is Apollos, after all, and what is Paul? Ministers through whom you became believers, just as the Lord assigned each one. I planted, Apollos watered, but God caused the growth. Therefore, neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who causes the growth. He who plants and he who waters are one, and each will receive wages in proportion to his labor. For we are God's co-workers; you are God's field, God's building.

Boys and girls, sometimes we feel divided loyalties, meaning we can support both sides in a contest, or we can cheer for two opposing teams. Divided loyalties is not always a bad thing because we can see some good on both sides of the aisle. For example, last night the Trinity volleyball team traveled up the mountain to play the St. Joseph Panthers. How many of you cheered for Trinity? How many of you cheered for St. Joe’s? I cheered for St. Joseph because my niece, Isabella, plays for the Panthers. I felt divided loyalties and could cheer for both because I know there are good kids on both teams.

What about Northside and Southside high schools? How many of you will go to Northside and become Grizzlies? Maybe you plan to join the Southside Mavericks after graduating from Trinity? But every time I attend a game where Northside and Southside play each other, it feels like another Civil War to me because we have Trinity grads on both sides of the Mason Dixon Line, Buffaloes fighting Buffaloes. I feel divided loyalties because I love students on both sides of the contest. Good guys are not on one side and the bad guys on the other side. The good guys are on both sides.

What about when you come to Mass on Wednesday mornings? Sometimes Fr. Stephen celebrates Mass, sometimes I do. Raise your hand if you like Fr. Stephen’s Mass better. Now, raise your hand if you like my Mass better? I am going to expel all students who like Fr. Stephen’s Mass more. Even though we feel divided loyalties, I hope you can also appreciate that each priest has something special to share in his own experience of faith and his personal journey with Jesus. There is something good in every priest, even if you sleep through his sermons.

St. Paul tries to train the Corinthians to work through their divided loyalties so that the early Christian community is not torn apart with their own civil war. Some Corinthians said they belonged to the camp of Paul while others said they preferred Apollos. By the way, both Paul and Apollos were extraordinary preachers and crowds flocked to hear them speak, just like people drove to Christ the King to hear Fr. Tom Elliott, and then everyone came to I.C. to listen to Msgr. John O’Donnell. But Paul explains there is goodness and grace on both sides, saying: “I planted, Apollos watered, but God caused the growth.” In other words, there is no need for a civil war and divided camps, arguing and animosity. Rather, realize how much good there is on each side and praise God whose grace makes any goodness at all possible. You can find God on both sides of every contentious contest.

Boys and girls, I mention this because you too can feel the tug and tension to choose sides and allow jealousy and rivalry to tear apart the fabric of faith that knits this school together. I love to see you making friends and belonging to groups and trying new activities and sports. It’s important to belong to groups as you develop your own individual identity. But don’t be like the Christians in Corinth and say, “We are the cool group and those are the mean girls.” Divide your loyalties and see there are good girls in both groups. The good guys are on both sides.

Some of you come from Christ the King, others from St. Boniface, others from I.C. and others from public schools. Don’t just hang out with the group from your last school and think students from other schools are bad or dumb or uncool. Divided your loyalties and see we are all Buffaloes and every student’s blood bleeds blue at this school. There are good students from every school and we are blessed to have each of you as part of our Trinity family. There are good guys on all sides.

Sometimes skin color or language can build barriers between Buffaloes, and you associate only with those who look or speak like you. But you can divide your loyalties and learn something new from every culture, like homemade Mexican food on Fridays, the gringo vendors during the week, and guys, you have not lived until you try some Indian chicken curry. God is present in every country and in every culture and it is his grace at work that makes any and all goodness possible. There are good guys on all sides.

Boys and girls, when we come to Mass, put aside your preferences and politics and try to see each other as brothers and sisters in Christ. That is one reason we pray the Lord’s prayer, the Our Father, in Latin and not in English or in Spanish or in Vietnamese or in Laotian, in order to see and hear and feel our unity in Christ. For the length of that prayer, we are truly one. St. Paul said: “Neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who causes the growth.” God is the one responsible for the growth and goodness in each of you.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Wisdom and Love

Choosing wisdom and love over knowledge and information

09/04/2018

Luke 4:31-37 Jesus went down to Capernaum, a town of Galilee. He taught them on the sabbath, and they were astonished at his teaching because he spoke with authority. In the synagogue there was a man with the spirit of an unclean demon, and he cried out in a loud voice, "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are–the Holy One of God!" Jesus rebuked him and said, "Be quiet! Come out of him!" Then the demon threw the man down in front of them and came out of him without doing him any harm. They were all amazed and said to one another, "What is there about his word? For with authority and power he commands the unclean spirits, and they come out." And news of him spread everywhere in the surrounding region.

In our culture we put a pretty high premium on acquiring knowledge and information, but we struggle to see the value of obtaining wisdom and love. Children in school are graded on how much book-learning they can master. Scholarships are awarded based on GPA averages and standardized test scores, not on the caliber of conversation in the lunchroom or the behavior on the playground where we find the practicioners of wisdom and love.

I recently heard of a telling exchange between the CEO of a fortune five hundred company and a vice president who reported to him. Apparently, a certain company growth strategy had not succeeded as both men hoped, but the vice president had missed some critical information. The vice president shrugged: “I really thought that plan would work.” The CEO coldly replied: “I do not pay you to think; you are paid to know.” Knowledge and information are prized as paramount in the present day, while deep thinking, wisdom and love are negotiable or negligible, not as critical.

The Bible, too, weighs in on the business of knowledge and information on the one hand versus wisdom and love on the other hand. You can probably guess whose side the Scriptures stand on. To really underscore the point that knowledge is not everything, a demon declares: “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are – the Holy One of God!” That demon was smarter than all the spectators that day, and could easily have gotten scholarships to any Ivy League college he chose. He knew a lot of information, but his tank was empty of wisdom and love. You might say, demons are not paid to think; they are paid to know. But information and knowledge are not everything in life, and they are not even the most important things, even if we mistakenly think they are at times.

I believe this insight can have some radical implications today, and offers us some practical applications, especially for the Ladies Auxiliary. Perhaps prizing deep wisdom and love over mere knowledge and information should guide promotions of the Church’s prelates. The clergy abuse scandal certainly suggests that in the past priests were promoted who lacked real wisdom and love, even if they might have been extremely knowledgeable. We need church leaders who are willing to think as well as to know, to love as well as to have volumes of information. We are not always sure what to do with the elderly who begin to forget things due to age and Alzheimer’s. But they never lose their ability to reflect deeply – even if they cannot always express those thoughts – and to love tenderly. Sometimes we judge people unfairly because we emphasize to an extreme the value of knowledge and information, and overlook wisdom and love.

This insight likewise highlights the great blessing of the Ladies Auxiliary. You are not just a group of girls that sits around gossiping all day. Well, maybe you might gossip a little. But you are far more concerned in loving each other unconditionally as when you check up on each other and pray for each other. You work tirelessly to build up the Church, like in helping underwrite the costs of liturgical supplies and rectory needs (like more movie channels). And you are keenly aware of accompanying grieving families during the loss of a loved one by singing at funeral Masses and preparing funeral meals. All these things require wisdom and love more than knowledge and information, just like a delicious lemon meringue pie needs three scoops of love more than following an internet recipe to the letter.

Maybe I am just saying all this because as I get older I also notice I forget things from frequently. And I hope people will be nice to me even if I do not know a lot of stuff! But I am not alone in hoping this. St. John of the Cross, the great Carmelite monk and mystic, observed: “At the end of our life, we will be judged on how much we loved.” Wisdom and love will be on the entrance exam to get into heaven, even if they are not required to enter Harvard.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Honeymoon Phase

Participating in the work of Christ building up the Kingdom

09/03/2018

Luke 4:16-30 Jesus came to Nazareth, where he had grown up, and went according to his custom into the synagogue on the sabbath day. He stood up to read and was handed a scroll of the prophet Isaiah. He unrolled the scroll and found the passage where it was written: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord. Rolling up the scroll, he handed it back to the attendant and sat down, and the eyes of all in the synagogue looked intently at him. He said to them, "Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing." When the people in the synagogue heard this, they were all filled with fury. They rose up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town had been built, to hurl him down headlong. But he passed through the midst of them and went away.

There’s an old saying that suggests: If you love what you do, you will never work a day in your life. I feel very fortunate to be a Catholic priest and I absolutely love what I do and so it never feels like “work,” even when I get up at 4:30 a.m. to write my homily on Labor Day! When you are employed in a “labor of love” it no longer feels like labor. I have enjoyed having Fr. Stephen around and watching his reactions and how much he relishes being a baby priest. We call that the “honeymoon phase.” But for me I have been in the honeymoon phase for twenty-two years. The priesthood has never felt tiresome or troublesome to me.

When I arrived here at I.C. Church almost five years ago, I tried to help our church staff see that they, too, are employed in a labor of love. I explained that no matter what their specific tasks each day – as a custodian, or as a bookkeeper, or as a secretary, etc. – their ultimate job is bringing people closer to Christ. At the end of each day when they get in their car to drive home, they should ask themselves: “Did I bring someone closer to Christ today?” Maybe through a welcoming smile, or listening to someone’s problems, or helping them register as a member, or balancing the books, or scheduling a dinner with Fr. John, imperceptibly, but nevertheless inevitably, we bring people closer to Christ. I hope they feel like working for the church is a labor of love – the love of Christ – and it does not feel like work.

We see the specific nature of Jesus’ job in the gospel today, as he reads the profound prophecy of Isaiah. Our Lord did not merely love what he did every day, he was love itself, love incarnate and walking on two legs. His each and every action, his whispered words, his deep sighs and even his heartbeats were but an exterior, earthly manifestation of his interior, eternal mission, a labor of love entrusted to him by the Father. We read: “Jesus stood up to read and was handed a scroll of the prophet Isaiah. He unrolled the scroll and found the passage where it was written: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.’” That perfectly summarizes Jesus’ job but also suggests his joy, even though is native town rejected him and wanted to kill him. But even in the face of such rejection, I don’t believe that felt like “work” for our Lord. Why? Well because Jesus always loved what he did, indeed, he was love on two legs, and therefore he was always on his “honeymoon phase.”

On this Labor Day, may I invite you to look at your own labor – your career or occupation or employment – also as an opportunity to bring people closer to Christ? You do not have to be a church secretary or a Catholic priest, but any honest work can be offered to God as a labor of love, your sacrifice to build up the Kingdom of God on earth. St. Josemaria Escriva, who started a movement called Opus Dei, which is Latin for “work of God,” said your office desk, your operating room table, your kitchen counter, your classroom chalkboard, can all be like “altars” where you offer your work as a sacrifice acceptable to God, just like Jesus did for thirty years as a humble carpenter, working with his hands. In that way, you become a little more Christ-like because your daily work becomes an exterior and earthly manifestation of an interior and eternal mission, a labor of love entrusted to you by the Father. You may start to feel like you, too, are in the “honeymoon phase” of life.

And you know what they say: when you love what you do, you will never work a day in your life.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Nation of Laws

Seeing all laws in light of the lex suprema, the salvation of souls

09/02/2018

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15 When the Pharisees with some scribes who had come from Jerusalem gathered around Jesus, they observed that some of his disciples ate their meals with unclean, that is, unwashed, hands. —For the Pharisees and, in fact, all Jews, do not eat without carefully washing their hands, keeping the tradition of the elders. And on coming from the marketplace they do not eat without purifying themselves. And there are many other things that they have traditionally observed, the purification of cups and jugs and kettles and beds. — So the Pharisees and scribes questioned him, "Why do your disciples not follow the tradition of the elders but instead eat a meal with unclean hands?" He responded, "Well did Isaiah prophesy about you hypocrites, as it is written: This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines human precepts. You disregard God's commandment but cling to human tradition."

We are a nation of laws. But have you noticed how we pick and choose some laws to obey and some to bend or break? Some people self-righteously point fingers and condemn others for violating laws while failing to see their own felonious behavior. It is obvious to anyone driving with their eyes open that the speed limit on the highway is 70 miles per hour, the maximum speed allowed by law. But rarely is someone that scrupulous that they would drive that speed; they would be hit from behind. A yellow light at an intersection means slow down and prepare to stop, but for most people it means speed up. In Fort Smith, we speed up at red lights. A liturgical law of the Church states Catholics should not receive Communion if they are conscious of grave sin, like missing Mass on Sunday. But is every Catholic coming up for Communion have such a clean conscience? We are a nation of laws, but it might be more accurate to say we are a nation that only obeys those laws we cannot get away with breaking.

I had the opportunity to study canon law in Washington, D.C. many years ago, and I learned that the Church has 1,752 different canons or statutes and each one has subparagraphs. We are definitely a “church of laws”! I was so happy when I discovered that the last canon stated, “lex suprema salus animarum,” meaning “the highest law (the supreme law) is the salvation of souls.” In a sense all the preceding 1,751 canons should be seen in service to the final and fundamental canon, the salvation of souls. In other words, if a certain canon or law is not helping someone get into heaven it needs to be re-evaluated and revised so that it serves that end. We all pick and choose which laws to obey and which ones we will bend or break. The one law we should never break is the lex suprema, any law whose violation keeps people out of Paradise.

Jesus feels frustrated with the Pharisees in the gospel today because they cannot figure out which law is the lex suprema; they think they all are. The Pharisees prided themselves on being a class of Jews that never broke any laws, not even the smallest letter of a law. They would drive 70 miles per hour on the highway, they would slow down at yellow lights, and they would never miss Mass. But that zeal to keep every jot and tittle of the law blinded them to the supreme the law, namely, getting people into heaven. Jesus reprimands them saying: “You disregard God’s commandment but cling to human tradition.” God’s commandments express his Fatherly wisdom and love, which is ultimately to see all his children safely back home in heaven. If a specific statute, canon or commandment fails to serve that end, it needs to be ejected. Lex suprema, salus animarum. The Pharisees had forgotten the law is a means to an end and not an end in itself.

May I suggest three instances we might shine the light of the lex suprema, so that the small laws do not blind us to the big laws? First of all let’s look at immigration laws and people who enter the United States illegally, or stay beyond their allotted time. There are passionate people on both sides of the aisle - I know because I talk to them and they yell at me. But I suggest we ask ourselves: Is breaking an immigration law going to keep you out of heaven, or is it just going to get you deported and keep you out of the United States? The answer is: breaking an immigration law will not keep you out of heaven. Whatever side you take on the immigration issue – and there are reasonable people on both sides – shine the light of the lex suprema on those laws and you will see the issue more clearly as a Christian. You begin to realize the law is a means to an end and not an end in itself.

Secondly, we shine the light of the lex suprema on the clergy sexual abuse crisis. One aspect of what makes this scandal so senseless is that priests who knew they were breaking the law, both civil and moral laws, thought they could get away with it. And tragically, they did get away with it for a long time. But if shine the light of the lex suprema, we ask: will violation of this law keep those priests out of heaven, what answer do we get? A resounding “YES!” unless, of course, they sincerely repent. The reason clergy sexual abuse is so reprehensible is that it violates the lex suprema and keeps people out of Paradise, namely, the priests themselves. Clergy who abused minors saw the law as an end in itself, and thought they could break it with impunity, but the consequences could be eternal.

Thirdly, let us turn the light of the lex suprema on ourselves. How often do we commit sins, breaking one of the Ten Commandments, believing we get away with it, like lying. By the way, doctors are taught in medical school that patients routinely lie on their in-take form. Doctors are instructed on how to compensate for their concealment. To the question how much do you drink a week, the doctors should take the answer and double it. To the question how frequently do you have sex, the doctor should take that answer and reduce it by half. But the bigger law is that lying is prohibited by the eighth commandment, “Thou shall not bear false witness.” Not telling the truth breaks the lex suprema and could keep us out of heaven. When we lie we think the law is an end in itself and ignore that it is a means to our eternal end.

The United States and the Catholic Church are organizations of laws. And that is a good thing, and an important ingredient in our success as a nation and as a church. But let us be careful that the little laws do not blind us to the big laws, the salvation of souls. The lex suprema reminds us to treat laws as a means to an end, not an end in themselves. 

Praised be Jesus Christ!