Introductory Knowledge

Appreciating the unfathomable mystery of the human person

01/28/2019

Mark 3:22-30 The scribes who had come from Jerusalem said of Jesus, "He is possessed by Beelzebul," and "By the prince of demons he drives out demons." Summoning them, he began to speak to them in parables, "How can Satan drive out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand; that is the end of him. But no one can enter a strong man's house to plunder his property  unless he first ties up the strong man. Then he can plunder his house.  Amen, I say to you, all sins and all blasphemies that people utter will be forgiven them. But whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an everlasting sin." For they had said, "He has an unclean spirit."

I am so happy to celebrate the feast of St. Thomas Aquinas today, January 28. He is one of my many, many patron saints and I gladly mention his name at the end of my rosary during the litany of saints. I fell in love with St. Thomas Aquinas in the seminary for a very mercenary motive: I needed his help to survive seminary studies. He is the patron saint of students and universities. He is arguably the most brilliant theologian in church history, and yet they nicknamed him “the dumb ox” because he was so quiet and pensive. So, I didn’t feel so bad when I felt like a dumb ox through much of seminary.

I love to read not only book written by St. Thomas, but also books written about St. Thomas. One book I am plowing through very slowly like a dumb ox is called The Christian Philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas, written by the French theologian Etienne Gilson. But I cannot finish the “Introduction,” even though I have started to read it five times. Maybe it is too much merlot? But this struggle to get past the Introduction and bite into the meat of the matter made me wonder if we ever get past mere introductions with one another in this life. No matter how many books I read by or about the Angelic Doctor (another nickname for Aquinas), will I ever really have more than an introductory knowledge of him? I believe that is the fate of all human knowledge of other persons on earth: it is inevitably introductory. Only in heaven will we truly know not only God, seeing him face to face, but also one another, seeing each other finally face to face.

In the gospel today, we see Jesus trying to introduce himself to the Jewish scribes, but not getting very far. Before Jesus can even open his mouth and say who he is – “Hello, I’m Jesus” – the scribes conclude “He is possessed by Beelzebul” and also, “By the prince of demons he drives out demons.” They had already jumped to conclusions about Jesus before they had even read a word of the “Introduction” to the book of Jesus’ story. I struggled to finish the Introduction to a book about Aquinas, but the scribes didn’t even bother with the introduction to Jesus, because of their preconceived notions and their prejudices. In other words, all our earthly knowledge of another person, especially if that Person is the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, is always “introductory knowledge.” And sadly, sometimes it’s not even that much. Only in heaven will we fully and finally know others, and be known by them.

My friends, would you take a moment this morning and think about people you think you really know well? I would submit to you that your knowledge of them, no matter how many years you have known them, is only introductory knowledge. Some of you have been married for 20, 40 or 60 years, and feel confident your opinion about your spouse is spot on and infallible. But you would be wrong. A human being is an unfathomable mystery and can always surprise us. The one thing science and technology, no matter how much they advance, will never be able to predict is what I will do next.  At the core of each person lies an inalienable freedom, and that freedom makes me a mystery to you, and the most you can know of me is my “Introduction.”

But there are also people whom we have never met but we already have an opinion about them. Republicans have some opinions about Nancy Pelosi, and Democrats have some opinions about Donald Trump. And those opinions are not very different than what the scribes thought about Jesus in the gospel today, “Prince of demons.” But how foolish to say we know someone like that. We haven’t even started to read the Introduction to the story of their life, because we settle for our prejudices and preconceived notions. That’s why gossip is so wrong: we are talking about people we do not really know.

You know, the Introduction to Gilson’s book is only 25 pages long, so I hope I can finish is someday soon! But in another sense, I will always be reading introductions about everyone I meet on earth. I will have to wait till heaven to finally get beyond the introductory knowledge, and know other people, and be known by them.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Living Books

Appreciating Catholic schools and the lost art of reading

01/27/2019

Luke 4:14-21 Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news of him spread throughout the whole region. He taught in their synagogues and was praised by all. He 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."

One thing that I learned in Catholic schools, and for which I am forever grateful, is a love of reading and a love of books. Or, as a real book lover would say, Catholic schools made me a “bibliophile.” My “happy place” is kicking back in my recliner after a long, hard day of saving souls, cracking open a classic of literature, and pouring a tall glass of merlot. For me, merlot and Milton pair a lot better than merlot and filet mignon; I would rather read than eat.

To be honest, it took me a while to learn to love reading, like it takes time to develop a taste for fine wine. At Catholic High School in Little Rock we were given the option of reading a 94-point book, or a 97-point book, or a 100-point book. As you can guess, the more the possible points, the tougher and thicker the book. In the beginning, I always settled for the easier and shorter 94-point books, but by the end I was hungry for the challenge of the 100-point books.

One of the 100-point books for sophomores was titled Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. It’s a chilling story about burning books. In some distant future people abandon reading all together, and mindlessly watch television all day. Sound familiar? Anyone caught with a book in their home has their entire house burned to the ground by the fire department. The fire department in the story no longer puts out fires with water hoses; they cause fires with flame throwers. The books gets its name from the temperature at which the pages of a book will burn, 451 degree Fahrenheit. But a group of bibliophiles starts to meet in secret outside the city to read and even memorize entire books. Eventually each person memorizes a whole book, able to recite it backward and forward. Each bibliophile becomes a virtual book on two legs. The story is ostensibly about burning books, but the underlying moral of the story is about saving books. Indeed, it is about loving books and even becoming a living book.

Our scriptures today also speak about both loving and living a particular book, namely, the bible. In the Old Testament book of Nehemiah, Ezra the priest stands before the people and reads from the Pentateuch, the first five books of the bible, the Law of Moses. It says that he read from “daybreak till midday,” which would probably be about six hours. And how did the people react? We read: “All the people were weeping as they heard the words of the law.” Now, they were not weeping like we would weep if Mass went more than one hour. They were weeping for joy, like a woman weeps when he her beloved proposes to marry her. The Israelites were bibliophiles of the bible.

In the gospel, Jesus reads from the prophet Isaiah a passage about the mission of the Messiah. Then he profoundly proclaims: “Today, this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” Now, when Jesus fulfills a passage of scripture, he doesn’t just mean some Old Testament prediction came true. Rather, he turns that page into a Person, namely himself. He becomes a living book, like the bibliophiles in Fahrenheit 451. Jesus was the bible on two legs.

By the way, when Catholics use the term “Word of God,” we mean first and foremost the Person of Jesus Christ. The Word was a Person of the Trinity long before he became a page of a book. Only secondarily and subsequently does “Word of God” mean the bible or scriptures. That is why John began his gospel with these unforgettable words: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” In other words, you can burn all the bibles you want, but you will never destroy the real Word of God, the second Person of the Holy Trinity, Jesus Christ. Everything Jesus said and did fulfilled the scriptures because he was the bible in Person, the Incarnate Word, the word made flesh.

Today I am so excited to launch Catholic Schools Week. We teach our students so much great stuff here at Immaculate Conception School, it’s hard to summarize it all. But to me, one of the greatest gifts we give our students is to help them become bibliophiles, lovers of books. I bet some of our sixth graders know what the word “bibliophile” means and can even spell it. When our students have free time during the school day, they frequently grab a book and start reading. That’s their happy place, too, but hopefully without the glass of merlot! I know one fifth grade student who reads at the college level; Fahrenheit 451 probably feels like a 94-point book to her.

But more than just loving books, we want our students to become living books, especially of The Book, the bible. Here’s how we help them love the bible. Our students stand in this pulpit like Ezra and proclaim the scriptures by reading at Mass during the week at school and on Sunday. That’s something many adults would not dare to do. What’s more, our students become the bible on two legs, indeed fulfilling scripture a little like our Lord, when they help each other at school, when they put into practice the seven habits, when they serve the poor, when the memorize bible verses. They grow in wisdom, age and grace like Jesus did in Nazareth, the very first Catholic school. Paraphrasing St. Athanasius, we might say: “The Word of God became the words of men, so that men and women could become children of God, living words.” Be sure to take a bulletin home today and see how you can participate in all the fun-filled and faith-filled activities of Catholic School Week.

Fahrenheit 451 was not entirely fiction. During Hitler’s rule in Nazi Germany many books were banned and even burned. The Hebrew Scriptures, meaning the Old Testament, was among those books thrown into the fire, and Jews in Germany wept that day for a very different reason than they did during the time of Ezra the priest. But if the day should every come when books are burned again, don’t worry, Catholic schools are raising up generations of bibliophiles. Our students not only love to read books; they are becoming virtually living books.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Mob Mentality

Overcoming the mob mentality thinking for ourselves

01/26/2019

Mark 3:7-12 Jesus withdrew toward the sea with his disciples. A large number of people followed from Galilee and from Judea. Hearing what he was doing, a large number of people came to him also from Jerusalem, from Idumea, from beyond the Jordan, and from the neighborhood of Tyre and Sidon. He told his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd, so that they would not crush him. He had cured many and, as a result, those who had diseases were pressing upon him to touch him. And whenever unclean spirits saw him they would fall down before him and shout, "You are the Son of God." He warned them sternly not to make him known.

You have probably heard the famous Shakespearean quotation, “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.” That line launched a long speech by Mark Antony after the assassination of Julius Caesar, and it was intended to stir up the crowd to take revenge on the assassins. Shakespeare was a brilliant student of sociology and he understood what moves the mob mentality. Through his shrewd oratorical skills, Antony stirs up the crowd to seek the death of Brutus, Cassius and the other conspirators. But what we need to remember is that right before Antony’s speech, Brutus had spoken, equally eloquently, and explained to the same mob that killing Caesar was both noble and right. At the end of Brutus’ speech, the crowd had cheered wildly in support of him. A few moments later, after Antony’s speech, the same mob is ready to behead Brutus.

Have you ever watched kindergartners playing soccer? I like to call it “herd ball.” When someone kicks the ball in one direction, all the players run over there. When the ball is kicked in another direction, they all chase after it. No one stays put in their positions, and the herd mentality, or the mob mentality, moves the players. The real problem with the mob mentality – both in kindergartners and in Roman crowds – is that individuals allow the crowd to do their thinking for them. People do not think for themselves. Albert Einstein had warned: “Thinking is hard work; that’s why so few people do it.” The majority of people prefers the mob mentality, and let others do the thinking.

In the gospel Jesus is wary of the movements of the mob mentality. He understood sociology a lot better than Shakespeare. Jesus cures the sick and his popularity is rising rapidly; his approval ratings are going through the roof. But what does he do? He moves from one place to another dampening and disappointing the desires of the crowds. And when evil spirits would shout, “You are the Son of God,” he warned them sternly not to make him known. Why? Who wouldn’t want such praise and popularity? Well, I think it’s because Jesus did not want the people to let others do their thinking for them, especially not evil spirit, even if they were right.

Jesus knew as well as Shakespeare that the crowd that praises you today will be the same crowd that persecutes you tomorrow. The mob mentality cannot be the foundation of our faith. In other words, even though other people can encourage us in faith, and inspire our faith, and explain our faith in Jesus Christ, each believer must make a profoundly personal decision of faith. Every Christian must utterly reject the mob mentality when it comes to the most precious and personal act of faith. Christians do not play herd ball when their faith.

Let me suggest three areas people are especially susceptible to the mob mentality and playing herd ball. First, in the wild world of social media. We saw this in the spread of the news story about the confrontation between the Catholic school student and the Native American man at the March for Life. People shared stories and tweets without taking time to think for themselves. Someone kicked the ball in one direction and all the kindergartners ran after it. Something similar happens in politics. One politician delivers a great speech and, like the crowds listening to Brutus or Antony, we run after them. We happily let someone else do our thinking for us, because after all, thinking is hard work. And sadly, sometimes, this even happens in our faith as Jesus feared it would. Catholics conclude that all Christians are basically the same, so we can go to church anywhere on Sunday, or nowhere at all. Only about 35% of our parishioners attend Mass every Sunday here at I.C. Apparently, I need to deliver better speeches like my great ancestor, Mark Antony.

My friends, when we die and stand before God, he will ask us how we lived our faith. I don’t think God will be very pleased with the answer, “Well, I basically did what everyone else was doing.” Every Christian must utterly reject the mob mentality, because God does too.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Secretary’s Memoirs

Seeing our lives through the eyes of our secretary

01/25/2019

Acts of the Apostles 22:3-16 Paul addressed the people in these words: "I am a Jew, born in Tarsus in Cilicia, but brought up in this city. At the feet of Gamaliel I was educated strictly in our ancestral law and was zealous for God, just as all of you are today. I persecuted this Way to death, binding both men and women and delivering them to prison. Even the high priest and the whole council of elders can testify on my behalf. For from them I even received letters to the brothers and set out for Damascus to bring back to Jerusalem in chains for punishment those there as well. "On that journey as I drew near to Damascus, about noon a great light from the sky suddenly shone around me. I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, 'Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?' I replied, 'Who are you, sir?' And he said to me, 'I am Jesus the Nazorean whom you are persecuting.' My companions saw the light but did not hear the voice of the one who spoke to me. I asked, 'What shall I do, sir?' The Lord answered me, 'Get up and go into Damascus, and there you will be told about everything appointed for you to do.' Since I could see nothing because of the brightness of that light, I was led by hand by my companions and entered Damascus.

At some point or another everyone thinks of writing their own autobiography. When we have lived long enough we begin to marvel at the adventures, the people, the places and even the close calls and narrow escapes we have had. Do you know who I hope never write down their memoirs? It is church secretaries, especially where I have served as pastor. But many times they have threatened to do exactly that, and I cringe inside. I have served in 18 parishes and mission and all secretaries unanimously agree that no one would believe the things they have seen, heard and experienced. It would definitely be a best-seller, probably in the dramatic fiction section.

The memoirs of a church secretary would inevitably include the parish priests they worked with. Our secretaries see us at our shining best as well as our most miserable worst. They know all too well that every priest has clay feet no matter how clean his collar. But the fundamental job of a church secretary is to make the pastor look good, in spite of himself. Church secretaries shoulder the same burden as altar servers at Mass, whom I instruct before each Mass: “You make me look good, and I will make Jesus look good.” Clearly the secretary and the altar server have the much harder job.

But church secretaries are also blessed to see the story of their pastor is not only the tale of a man, but also the testimony of the Messiah; it’s not only about John, but it’s also about Jesus. In other words, the secretary sees daily the miracles of grace that happen not only in the lives of parishioners, but also in the life of the pastor. Secretaries can say with St. Paul in 2 Corinthians 4:7, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” Every church secretary can repeat the opening lines of Charles Dicken’s classic novel, A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” That’s the life of every church secretary.

Today we celebrate the compelling conversion of St. Paul. But what I find fascinating about the conversion accounts in the Acts of the Apostles (there are actually three accounts in chapters 9, 22, and 26) is that they are written by his secretary. Even though Paul speaks in first person, as if he’s talking about himself, those words themselves are written by St. Luke, the author of the Acts of the Apostles. Luke was St. Paul’s understudy and accompanied him on his long missionary journeys preaching and teaching. Like all secretaries Luke saw St. Paul both at his best but also at his worst. In fact, that is the central point of St. Paul’s conversion story. St. Paul was probably thinking: did Luke have to include that story three times?

But St. Luke enjoyed a perspective that escaped Paul, namely, to see the miracles of grace not only in the people to whom Paul preached, but also the miracles in the life of Paul the preacher. Of course, Paul recounts his own version of that conversion event in Galatians 1, but that account is brief, and skips over the more embarrassing details, like I would have done in the autobiography of Fr. John. But St. Luke, the secretary of the Apostles to the Gentiles, knew all too well that the great missionary also had clay feet that carried him all over the world, and his story was both “the best of times and the worst of times.”

Have you ever thought you would like to write down your memoirs, or your autobiography, like all presidential candidates rush to do while campaigning? Would you depict yourself as the noble and shining hero who rides in on his white steed to save the day and the damsel in distress? If we are honest, we will admit we all suffer from an over-inflated opinion about ourselves and our accomplishments. Your life would be far more fascinating if your secretary wrote about you, or if your spouse picked up the pen, or your children wrote the record of your life. Their accounts might not be the most flattering version of the story, but they would probably be a little more factual. More importantly, they might see the miracles of grace in your story better than you can, like St. Luke saw them in the conversion story of St. Paul.

We all carry treasure in jars of clay. Our life story is both the best of times and the worst of times. If it wasn’t, it would never become a best-seller.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Exchanging Looks

Looking below the surface and see similarities

01/23/2019

Mark 3:1-6 Jesus entered the synagogue. There was a man there who had a withered hand. They watched Jesus closely to see if he would cure him on the sabbath so that they might accuse him. He said to the man with the withered hand, "Come up here before us." Then he said to the Pharisees, "Is it lawful to do good on the sabbath rather than to do evil, to save life rather than to destroy it?" But they remained silent. Looking around at them with anger and grieved at their hardness of heart, Jesus said to the man, "Stretch out your hand." He stretched it out and his hand was restored. The Pharisees went out and immediately took counsel with the Herodians against him to put him to death.

It’s amazing how much you can say with just the look on your face. Have you heard the expression, “If looks could kill?” I think Mr. Edwards has that look on his face all the time; I think he was born that way. But that’s also why everyone respects him. When I taught Latin at St. Joseph School in Fayetteville, an older teacher gave me a little advice. He said: “Don’t smile before Thanksgiving.” In other words, show your students you are tough and you mean business. Students can smell weakness in a teacher faster than they can smell a fresh pepperoni pizza, and they will pounce equally on both of them.

But I think better than trying to intimidate or communicate by facial expressions is to have a conversation with the other person. Our external appearance may suggest that you and I are very different, but when we get to know each other, we learn that our stories are quite similar, basically we all hope for happiness. But sadly, we stop on the surface – how someone looks – and never get to know the heart of the another person. I have a book with pictures of all our Trinity students. Some are smiling, some scowling, others trying to look cool, and some need retakes. But if all I ever knew of you was that picture, I wouldn’t know you at all. A picture is worth a thousand words, true; but a picture is not worth substituting for a heart to heart conversation, no matter how pretty your picture. A conversation helps you know someone, and only then can you love someone.

In the gospel, we see people exchanging some strong looks, too, namely, the Pharisees and Jesus. We read: “The Pharisees watched Jesus closely to see if he would cure a man on the Sabbath so that they might accuse him.” The Pharisees stared at Jesus with suspicion in their eyes and saw him as an enemy. But Jesus also does some serious looking back, “Looking at them with anger and grieved at their hardness of heart, Jesus said to the man, ‘Stretch out your hand’.” But notice what Jesus did besides looking and staring back. He tried to carry on a conversation by asking them questions. He was saying in effect: we are not as different as you think, we are not really enemies; indeed, I am your long-awaited Messiah, your best friend. But instead of seeing the similarities, the Pharisees met with the Herodians in secret to plot Jesus’ death because they settled for the differences. They stayed on the surface that seems so different instead of having a conversation and see the similarities in every human heart.

I am sure you have heard by now about the stare-down that occurred this past weekend between a Native American, Vietnam veteran named Nathan Phillips, and a Catholic school student named Nick Sandmann. It was during the National Right to Life March in Washington, D.C., and the videos went viral on social media. I don’t want to defend or condemn anyone’s behavior that was involved, and perhaps you have developed your own opinion about the events, which is fine. Nevertheless, I want to offer you three lessons we can learn as a Catholic school reflecting on that tense encounter especially in light of today’s gospel.

First, because of the behavior of those students – right or wrong – people look at Catholic schools more critically than they did before. You may not think it is fair that people judge all Catholic schools by the behavior of a few students, but they do. People judge you by the school you attend, and people judge Catholic schools by the behavior of their students, even when the students are off school grounds. Sometimes parents show us videos that our students have posted on social media that are objectionable, and they expect us to police your behavior 24 hours a day, which of course is impossible. Still, whether you are on Trinity grounds or at the Lincoln Memorial, people expect a higher standard of behavior from Catholic schools students. You may not like the burden of that expectation, but that’s what you signed up for when you registered here at Trinity, and so did we.

Secondly, since that tense confrontation between Nick Sandmann and Nathan Phillips, both men have made public statements explaining their behavior to the world. But what I find deeply disappointing is that they are not talking to each other. They are only seeing the surface of the other person – where the differences lie – and failing to see all the similarities deeper in the heart. There are students here at Trinity that may seem very different from you on the surface, and you may have exchanged some serious looks back and forth with them. But if you are brave enough to have a sincere conversation with them, you will find you share a ton more in common than you imagined. People’s skin may seem different, but every human heart beats the same.

Third, here is what I do when I find it hard to get along with someone: I say a prayer for them, just one Hail Mary when I’m really mad at them. I am sure Fr. Stephen says Hail Mary’s for me all day long. But when you pray for someone, you ask God to bless them, to help them, so that they might be happy. Praying for our enemy softens our hearts (we receive the first grace of every prayer!) and we begin to see them as God sees them, not as an enemy but as a friend; indeed, as a son or daughter. We start to love other people like God loves them, because God knows everyone just wants to be happy.

Do you ever wonder what purgatory will be like? Maybe not, but you probably will more the closer you get to it. I am pretty sure that in purgatory, you will be hanging out with all the people you do not like, and you won’t get to leave until you love them as if they were your best friend. The Pharisees will be with Jesus, Nick Sandmann will be with Nathan Phillips, and Fr. Stephen will be with me. Or, you can skip purgatory by learning to love your enemies today, and that’s a lot easier to do if you do not stop on the surface, but look into their heart, where everyone just wants to be happy.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Women Priests

Appreciating the role of the common priesthood

01/21/2019

Hebrews 5:1-10 Brothers and sisters: Every high priest is taken from among men and made their representative before God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins. He is able to deal patiently with the ignorant and erring, for he himself is beset by weakness and so, for this reason, must make sin offerings for himself as well as for the people. No one takes this honor upon himself but only when called by God, just as Aaron was. In the same way, it was not Christ who glorified himself in becoming high priest, but rather the one who said to him: You are my Son: this day I have begotten you; just as he says in another place, You are a priest foreveraccording to the order of Melchizedek.

Every book of the bible was written by an inspired author and intended for a particular community. In the case of the Letter to the Hebrews, scripture scholars generally agree it was written to Jewish priests who had converted to Christianity. Hebrews is replete with dense theological reflections on the priesthood of Jesus Christ and leaves most readers scratching their heads about its meaning. So, you might hastily conclude: Good, I am not a priest so Hebrews is not intended for me. I can skip it! Not so fast.

The Church as consistently taught that there are two kinds of priesthood: the “ministerial priesthood” (those who have received the sacrament of Holy Orders) and the “common priesthood of all the faithful (those who have received the sacrament of baptism). In other words, all the baptized are called to be priest, prophet and king. And that means further that in the Catholic religion we have women priests! There is a lot of controversy these days about whether women should be ordained as priests. But I believe that overlooks our basic belief about baptism: baptized women are already priests in a very real and irrevocable way. Women priests is not semantics; this is a sacramental reality.

The Letter to the Hebrews is dominated by a mysterious man named Melchizedek. I even wrote a paper in the seminary with the cheeky title, “Who the Heck is Melchizedek.” I earned a master’s degree more for my creativity than for my content. What I discovered as I researched the figure of Melchizedek is that he represents the ministerial priesthood, those who hold the office and responsibility of priestly service. But I also learned that the common priesthood of the faithful has a similar but distinct function, namely, to offer sacrifice. We read in Hebrews: “Every high priest is taken from among men and made their representative before God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sin.” In other words, ministerial priests (like me, Fr. Stephen, Bishop Taylor, and Pope Francis) stand on one side of the altar to offer sacrifice. But common priests (like Suzanne McGraw, Ruth Bruick, Shelly Gilker, and Sr. Mary Sarto) stand on the other side of the altar and also offer sacrifice; a distinct sacrifice, but nonetheless a sacrifice. But notice we all come to the altar and offer sacrifice – to offer sacrifice is both the definition and the duty of a priest according to Hebrews, and that includes women priests.

That is why at mass, after we place the gifts of bread and wine on the altar, the priest says: “Pray, brothers and sisters, that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God the Almighty Father.” All priests offer gifts and sacrifices, both male priests and female priests. If anyone asks you, “When will the Catholic Church finally have some respect and equality for women and ordain them as priests?” You can confidently answer: “Women are already priests in the Catholic religion; they too stand at the altar at Mass and offer their gifts and sacrifices that are acceptable to God.

Yesterday, I was blessed to meet a very holy and humble woman priest, although she probable did not know she was a priest. She suffers from multiple sclerosis (MS for short) and is often in excruciating pain. She is 51 years old and lives with her spunky 70 year old mother, who actually takes care of her. It was so painful for her to sit upright that, at one point, she asked if I minded if she could put her legs on the couch. I said, “I’m so sorry for your pain, please make yourself comfortable.” We talked about her two daughters and her 7 month-old grandbaby, whom she was especially excited to see.

But what really touched me about this sweet lady was she was not bitter about her illness but rather cheerful and very affable during our whole discussion. She was clearly offering up her pains and problems as “a sacrifice acceptable to God the Almighty Father.” As I left her home, I thought to myself: she is a better priest than I am. God must be very pleased with her gifts and sacrifices, as indeed he is with the sacrifices that all women make for their husbands, their children, their neighbors, and for the world. We would be in a world of hurt, if we did not have women priests offering up their sacrifices.

We will be reading the Letter to the Hebrews for several more weeks, finally finishing on February 9. So, get used to it. Don’t dismiss this densely packed letter as only for ministerial priests like Melchizedek. It is intended for all priests, including women priests. Every priest stands at the altar offering gifts and sacrifices acceptable to God.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Scripture Sense

Letting Scripture lead us to happiness and heaven

01/20/2019

John 2:1-11 There was a wedding at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding. When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine." And Jesus said to her, "Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come." His mother said to the servers, "Do whatever he tells you." Now there were six stone water jars there for Jewish ceremonial washings, each holding twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus told the them, "Fill the jars with water." So they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, "Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter." So they took it.  And when the headwaiter tasted the water that had become wine, without knowing where it came from — although the servers who had drawn the water knew —, the headwaiter called the bridegroom and said to him, "Everyone serves good wine first, and then when people have drunk freely, an inferior one; but you have kept the good wine until now." Jesus did this as the beginning of his signs at Cana in Galilee and so revealed his glory, and his disciples began to believe in him.

I fell in love with the sacred scriptures while studying theology at Mt. St. Mary’s Seminary in Emmitsburg, Maryland. I earned a master of arts degree in scripture by writing a paper called, “Who the Heck is Melchizedek?” But my love for the Bible was sparked by a brief encounter with a fellow seminarian named Tim Staples. Tim was a former Marine (and he still looked like one), and an Assembly of God youth pastor. One day I was working on a paper on scripture and couldn’t remember a particular passage. Those were the dark barbaric days before the dawn of the golden age of google. I walked out of my dorm room scratching my head and saw Tim coming down the hall. Knowing a little of his story, I asked: “Hey, Tim, do you know where it says in the bible something like ‘Whatever is true, whatever is good, whatever…” But before I could finish stammering, he answered: “Philippians 4:8” and kept on walking, never missing a step. I thought to myself: “Dang, I want to be able to do that!” In that moment a budding bible scholar was born.

Thanks to Tim and my professors, I learned to love and revere the bible not only as the Word of God, but also as the blueprint for human happiness. I love how here at Mass here in Winslow we enthrone the Book of the Gospels after the deacon proclaims it. The bible is not only a relic to be revered, but also a roadmap to be rigorously followed for our salvation as well as for our sanity.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches there are four senses – or layers or levels – of scripture, and all bible believers (including Catholics) should be attentive to each one. They are: (1) the literal sense, (2) the allegorical sense, (3) the moral sense, (4) and the anagogical sense. Today’s gospel of the wedding feast in Cana from John 2 provides a perfect pericope to see these four senses in action. I want to describe these four senses but also draw out some practical conclusions for Christian conduct.

First, we must understand the literal sense of scripture, that is, what the inspired author intended to say to a particular community. All the other three senses should build on the literal level, like a three story house sitting on a solid foundation. In other words, before you ask the question, “What does this passage mean to me?” you need to discover the meaning of, “What does this passage mean to Joshua or to Jeremiah, to St. John or to St. James?” the ancient authors. In the gospel of John, therefore, the inspired author wants to convey a historical event – the wedding at Cana – but also tease out its deeper meaning, using his own gift of literary artistry.  John is an artist who paints with words. Scott Hahn once described this literal sense as “history aimed at a target.” The first question we ask, therefore, when we open the bible to John 2 is: “What target was John aiming at in telling the story of the miracle at Cana?” That target is the literal sense.

Secondly we turn to the allegorical sense, which helps us grasp some facet of our faith. Now we can start to ask, “What does this passage mean to me?” I love to mention this passage from John 2 at marriage ceremonies. I remind the couple (and the congregation) that sooner or later all marriages run out of wine, which symbolizes human love: human trust, human forgiveness, human hope, human patience, etc. The wine of young love starts to taste more like water. But if you invite Jesus to your wedding, he can change the water of human love into the wine of divine love, Jesus own love. And we taste that best of wine in the Mass, where the wine is changed into the Blood of Christ. That is the allegorical sense of John 2, namely, Jesus always provides the wine of his love at Mass for troubled couples.

The third sense is the moral sense, and as you can guess, it refers to how a passage helps us fulfill the two-fold commandment to love God and our neighbor, the basis of all morality. In John 2, the “neighbor” we must learn to love is our own spouse. It may sound easy to love your spouse, but sometimes loving our husband or wife feels more like “sleeping with the enemy.” Did you ever see the movie, “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”? The mother gives her bride-daughter, who’s getting cold feet, some advice the night before the wedding. She says: “Remember dear, the husband is the head of the family. But the wife is the neck, and the neck can turn the head.” At Cana in Galilee Mary and Jesus play the roles not only of mother and son, but also (in a sense) wife and husband. Indeed, Jesus’ cryptic reference to Mary as “Woman” evokes her true and deepest identity as an image of the Church, Jesus’ Bride. And how does Mary relate to Jesus at the wedding in Cana? Just like that Greek mother said. Mary “the neck” turns Jesus’ “head” to a particular problem. This gives us a glimpse of how to resolve some – of course not all – spousal spats: the man is the head and the woman is the neck. The moral sense of scripture shows us how to love each other, even our enemies.

And lastly, we arrive at the anagogical sense, and this is my favorite one of all. The word “anagogy” means to climb upward or ascend, and we climb or ascend to heaven, a “stairway to heaven” like Led Zepplin sang (sort of). John 2 suggests that only in heaven will we enjoy the perfect marriage between Jesus and his Bride, the Church. By contrast, all earthly marriages will always be imperfect and always run out of wine. I am convinced this has radical implications for every husband and wife because now you can sort of relax and stop searching for the perfect husband or the ideal wife. Wesley told Prince Humperdink, “Get used to disappointment,” and that is also the lot of all married couples. You could marry a hundred husbands and each one would have a fatal flaw. We are all “looking for love in all the wrong places” like Johnny Lee sang. Earth is the wrong place to look for “wuv, tru wuv,” the right place is heaven, only there will we find true, lasting love that will never disappoint. When we see John 2 as a “stairway to heaven” you catch the anagogical sense of scripture.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church sums up these four senses by quoting a medieval couplet: “The Letter speaks of deeds; Allegory to Faith; The Moral how to act; Anagogy to our destiny” (Catechism, 118). Sadly, I still cannot quote Philippians 4:8 without stumbling over the exact words. But loving the bible and living the bible requires more than remembering random passages. Only the four senses of scripture will reveal its real richness as both a path of peace here on earth and as a stairway to heaven.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

My Pillow

Finding our rest and refreshment in the Mass

01/18/2019

Hebrews 4:1-5, 11 Let us be on our guard while the promise of entering into his rest remains, that none of you seem to have failed. For in fact we have received the Good News just as our ancestors did. But the word that they heard did not profit them, for they were not united in faith with those who listened. For we who believed enter into that rest, just as he has said: As I swore in my wrath, "They shall not enter into my rest," and yet his works were accomplished at the foundation of the world. For he has spoken somewhere about the seventh day in this manner, And God rested on the seventh day from all his works; and again, in the previously mentioned place, They shall not enter into my rest.

I am sure by now you have seen the infomercial advertising the product called “My Pillow.” I am sorry for complaining about it, but that is an extremely annoying commercial and makes me immediately change the channel. What irks me most about the infomercial is its claim to cure virtually every sleep disorder and much more, for instance, it supposedly takes care of fibromyalgia, restless leg syndrome, sleep apnea, cerebral palsy, acid reflux, etc. In 2016, a class action lawsuit was brought against My Pillow and the company paid over $1 million in restitution for false advertising. Apparently, the company had not done the human testing to be able to back up those claims of health benefits of sleeping on their pillow product.

But I believe part of the success of My Pillow rests in our own restlessness (put intended), that is, we are all looking for a good night’s sleep. We all hope and pray that the perfect pillow will solve this pervasive problem of insomnia. We are all like the fairy-tale figure of Goldilocks, who tries the three beds of Papa Bear, Mama Bear and Baby Bear to find that one that’s “just right,” so we can finally rest for real. We go through life looking for the best rest, and the My Pillow product seems to be the answer to our problem, but some of its claims are more puffed up than the pillow itself.

The Letter to the Hebrews dedicates almost the entirety of chapter four to helping its readers find real rest. Instead of a pillow, however, Hebrews offers us a passage, namely, Psalm 95. There God promises his people that one day they would enter into his rest, God’s own rest. That is, God does not say to us, “Here’s my pillow,” rather he says to us, “Here’s my rest,” God’s own rest. And do you recall when God rested? Hebrews is happy to remind us, saying: “And God rested on the seventh day from all his works.”

For Jews the Sabbath was Saturday the seventh day, but for us Christians the Sabbath is Sunday, not the seventh day of rest but the eighth day of resurrection. And where do Christians find the best rest on Sunday? Not really in rocking back in our recliners watching football and infomercials, but at Mass, where we offer to God the sacrifice of his Son on the Cross. Jesus’ own “my pillow” was not an open-cell, poly-foam design but the hard wood of the cross. Jesus predicted what his pillow would be in Luke 9:58, saying: “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” In other words, when we come to Mass on Sunday, we realize there is no real rest for a Christian in his life; real rest will have to wait till the resurrection. The only pillow we will have is the cross and we unite ourselves to Jesus on the cross for the salvation of the world when we attend Mass.

By the way, may I mention that I have actually gotten some good sleep at Mass? My family always attended Christmas midnight Mass. The first thing I did after we sat down in the pew was lean my head on my father’s shoulder and promptly fall asleep. My pillow was my father’s strong shoulder. I work hard to prepare my homilies hoping they will keep you awake. But to be honest, I don’t mind if you fall asleep, at least you’re here at Mass. I just ask that you do not snore and wake up the other people who are trying to get some rest. I am so impressed with our Hispanics who attend English Masses even though they do not speak English. Why are they here? They don’t just have to overcome listening to a thick foreign accent, but they have to overcome a completely foreign language. I believe they come because they are not searching for the maker of “My Pillow,” but rather for the Maker of “My Rest,” that is God, in whom alone do we find the best rest. And the best rest is in the motions and meaning of the Mass, even if you cannot understand one word of it.

Yesterday, I was talking with a group of people at dinner, and asked them why Catholics leave the Church to join popular, non-denominational churches. They all agreed that people find a message there, as well as music and engaging activities. But one person also added: “But they will not find the Eucharist there, the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.” Catholics are like Goldilocks going through life looking for real rest and comfort. But the best rest is only found in the Sunday Mass, where God says to us not “Here’s my pillow,” but rather “Here’s my rest.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Detours of Life

Seeing our Lord’s love in life’s stops and starts

01/17/2019

Mark 1:40-45 A leper came to him and kneeling down begged him and said, "If you wish, you can make me clean." Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, touched the leper, and said to him, "I do will it. Be made clean." The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean. Then, warning him sternly, he dismissed him at once. Then he said to him, "See that you tell no one anything, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses prescribed; that will be proof for them." The man went away and began to publicize the whole matter. He spread the report abroad so that it was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly. He remained outside in deserted places, and people kept coming to him from everywhere.

I have learned a lot about my faith from my parents, which I think most of us can safely say. I marvel at how much they have taught me, both directly and indirectly and they still do, even though I am the priest and I am supposed to know everything. One lesson I learned as a small boy was that even the detours are part of the journey of love.

When I was young my family would drive to New York City to visit my uncle and his family. They lived in Long Island. Most people can drive the distance between Little Rock and New York in a day and a half, or even in one long day. It’s about 18 hours. But the three children insisted we stop at a hotel early, one that had a swimming pool of course, so we could swim. The journey became longer and more expensive because we wanted to take a detour. My brother, on the other hand, when he takes his family on vacations, he piles the kids into the car and drives all night while they sleep. They get there faster and cheaper, and he doesn’t have to hear their fighting and complaining, “Are we there yet?” But my parents let us take detours on our journey to New York City, and only now do I realize what a sacrifice of love it was for them.

In the gospel Jesus demonstrates how detours can be signs of his sacrificial love for the people. Jesus begins his Galilean ministry and he is on a long, three-year journey to Jerusalem. And he wasn’t going there for a vacation. Along the way, he cures a leper with the stern warning not to reveal that Jesus was performed the miracle. But the happily healed man cannot contain his relief and joy and so he broadcasts it everywhere.  What is the consequence? We read: “He spread the report abroad so that it was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly. He remained in deserted places, and people kept coming to him from everywhere.” In other words, even though Jesus knew the consequences of curing the leper – that he would not keep it quiet – he allowed him to create a detour on the Lord’s journey to Jerusalem. And that miraculous detour, like stopping at a hotel with a swimming pool for the night, only made the journey longer and more difficult for our Lord.

But that’s how much Jesus loves us. He didn’t just throw us all into the back of the car and drive all night. The fact that Jesus became a man means not only that he donned a human nature (and dealt with its limitations on his divinity), but also that he had to deal with our human nature, our weaknesses and neediness, like parents have to deal with their kids on vacation trips. Even the detours are signs of our Lord’s sacrificial love for us.

Folks, how do you deal with the detours of your own life’s long journey to the eternal Jerusalem, that is, to heaven? Some of those detours are of our own making while others are made for us by others. In our own way, we, too, must labor lovingly with the limitations of a human nature we have (our own sins), but also accommodate ourselves to the weaknesses and neediness of the humanity of others, like Jesus did. Some of the detours we deal with could be a divorce we did not want, or perhaps a disease that we never saw coming, or the death of a family member or close friend, or any number of experiences that derail our life and cause the journey to become longer and a lot more expensive.

But Jesus lovingly lets us take the detour and he waits patiently for us to pick up the journey again. He is not in a hurry to get us to heaven, even though, like my parents, he knows that is where we will be truly and eternally happy. Even the detours are signs of his sacrificial love for us.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Peace Plan

Finding peace in the transcendent purpose of God’s will

01/16/2019

Mark 1:29-39 On leaving the synagogue Jesus entered the house of Simon and Andrew with James and John. Simon's mother-in-law lay sick with a fever. They immediately told him about her. He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up. Then the fever left her and she waited on them. Rising very early before dawn, he left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed. Simon and those who were with him pursued him and on finding him said, "Everyone is looking for you." He told them, "Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also. For this purpose have I come." So he went into their synagogues, preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee.

Today I want to touch on a topic that is super sensitive, namely, suicide. Some of you may have family or friends who have tragically committed suicide so the problem is not only painful but also very personal. Everything that follows, therefore, please know I say with great respect and zero intention to offend anyone.

On June 7, 2018 The Washington Post newspaper ran a story on the acute rise of suicide in America. It quoted a few alarming statistics, saying: “Increasingly, suicide is being viewed not only as a mental health problem but also a public one. Nearly 45,000 suicides occurred in the United States in 2016 – more than twice the homicides” (people prefer to kill themselves than kill others) “– making it the 10th leading cause of death.” The article continued: “Among people ages 15-36 suicide is the second-leading cause of death.” You may remember when Kate Spade, the famous fashion designer, took her own life in New York City, and she had suffered from depression.

But what disappointed me about the article was what it pointed to as the root of the problem. It mentioned four factors that contribute to suicides: financial woes, relationships crises, alcohol and drug addiction, and mental health disorders. However, I think the article missed the deeper dilemma of which these four factors are but the symptoms, namely, a profound lack of peace. And peace does not come from more money, or a loving marriage, or a good martini (good as those things are), but rather from a sense of purpose. Purpose itself comes from knowing why I am walking around in this world. And a true and transcendent purpose comes from prayer. We ask God the simple but sublime question: “Why did you make me?” I am afraid that our country will only continue to see a rise in suicides as we see a similar rise in atheism. Why? When we do not pray, we will find little purpose, and we will finally feel no peace.

In the gospel we see Jesus model this three step peace plan. We read: “Rising very early before dawn, he left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed.” Maybe Jesus got up at 4:30 in the morning like I do but he probably didn’t have a Keurig. When Simon Peter informs him that everyone is looking for him, Jesus calmly replies: “Let us go to the nearby villages that I may preach there also. For this purpose have I come.” Did you catch the three steps of Jesus’ peace plan? First, he spent serious time in prayer; second, Jesus discovered his Father’s will, what God made him for (his human nature); and third, he enjoyed profound peace. Notice that Jesus did not have money or a marriage or even a martini. But he did pray and found his purpose and therefore felt deep peace.

My friends, we may not personally ever feel like committing suicide, but we all experience crisis points which can feel very overwhelming. There are three acute crises we all have to endure through life. First as teenagers trying to be independent; second in our forties and the so-called mid-life crisis, and then after retirement, when the wife want the husband out of her house. At these moments we feel disoriented and a profound lack of peace. We may mistakenly think, like The Washington Post article suggested, that the root of our problems is money or marriage or martinis or mental health. But I would disagree and so would Jesus. Rather, implement our Lord’s peace plan. First, spend time in serious prayer; second, ask God why he made you and discover a transcendent purpose, and third, you will feel an enduring sense of peace.

Peace is not the absence of war, not even the absence of interior conflicts and crises. Rather, peace is the result of walking in this world with a transcendent purpose, which you can only figure out praying to the One who made you. And that peace plan is probably the best way to reduce the number of suicides as well.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Opening Act

Seeing all of creation as preparation for eternity

01/15/2019

Hebrews 1:1-6 Brothers and sisters: In times past, God spoke in partial and various ways to our ancestors through the prophets; in these last days, he spoke to us through the Son, whom he made heir of all things and through whom he created the universe, who is the refulgence of his glory, the very imprint of his being, and who sustains all things by his mighty word. When he had accomplished purification from sins, he took his seat at the right hand of the Majesty on high, as far superior to the angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.

I have never had any desire to go to a concert; probably because I have heard plenty about concerts in confession. Apparently, most concerts have something called an opening act. It will be a lesser known artist trying to break through and become famous. They warm up the audience for the main performer, who’s called the headliner. We see this in sporting events, too, like boxing, professional wrestling, horse racing, and car racing. In these venues, though, the opening act is actually called the undercard. But it serves the same purpose: preparing the people for the main performance.

In the world of dramatic plays this opening act is called a curtain raiser. As you can guess the curtain is raised only after the opening act is finished and the people are primed for the performance. One theater critic, Walter MacQueen-Pope described the opening act affectionately saying: “This was a one-act play, seen only by the early comers. They deserved much better treatment than they got…the stalls and the boxes lost much by missing the curtain raiser, but to them dinner was more important.” That is, theater goers tragically choose dinner over the little drama called the curtain raiser.

Both scripture readings today speak of the opening act that preceded the arrival of Jesus, who we might call the Headliner of all headliners. The Letter to the Hebrews opens with this powerful passage: “In times past, God spoke in partial and various ways to our ancestors through the prophets; in these last days, he spoke to us through the son, whom he made heir of all things, and through whom he created the universe.” Hebrews suggests that the entire Old Testament can be seen as the opening act for the coming of Christ. And the last performance of the opening act of the Old Testament was John the Baptist. In our gospel reading, John is the “curtain raiser” who introduces Jesus, the Headliner and the Hero of the drama of salvation. But sadly some people miss the message of the Old Testament and the blessing of the Baptist because, like the theater critic lamented: “to them dinner was more important.”

My friends, may I take this analogy of the opening act a step further? I would suggest to you that all human history – indeed all of space-time (as scientists say), or all of creation (as people of faith put it) – is but the opening act for eternity. Shakespeare said this memorably: “All the world is a stage, / And all the men and women merely players.” In other words, from Adam to the last man, from Genesis to Revelation, all of us taken as a whole constitute a curtain raiser, waiting for the curtain to rise on the great drama of eternity.  We are just the warm-up act.

I tell wedding parties at the rehearsal that all eyes should be on the bride. That’s the direction the groomsmen and the bridesmaids should look once they get to their places. Why is that? Well, the bride, and even the wedding, and even the marriage that follows the wedding, are the opening act for the ultimate marriage of Jesus and his Bride the Church. That is why the human bride should be stunning and as perfect as possible, and all eyes on her. The bride is warming up the audience for the main act, the marriage of the Lamb, Jesus. This is why the Catholic Church works tirelessly to make marriages work: a six-month marriage preparation process (which engaged couples love), counseling for couples in troubled marriages like World Wide Marriage Encounter and Retrovaille, and even the agony of the annulment process after the agony of defeat in a divorce.  The Church is committed to making marriages work because she understands marriage as the human equivalent of the opening act. And if we fail to deliver, then the audience will not be properly prepared for the main performance.

Your life as a husband or wife is not merely for your happiness; marriage serves a much greater good. It is really to warm up the cosmos for the Headliner, for the Holy Husband, for Jesus’ return in glory, when the curtain of creation rises and we all see eternity. But sadly, for some of us, “dinner will be more important.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Private Victory

Winning the private victory with the sacraments

01/11/2019

1 John 5:5-13 Beloved: Who indeed is the victor over the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God? This is the one who came through water and Blood, Jesus Christ, not by water alone, but by water and Blood. The Spirit is the one who testifies, and the Spirit is truth. So there are three who testify, the Spirit, the water, and the Blood, and the three are of one accord. If we accept human testimony, the testimony of God is surely greater. Now the testimony of God is this, that he has testified on behalf of his Son. Whoever believes in the Son of God has this testimony within himself. Whoever does not believe God has made him a liar by not believing the testimony God has given about his Son. And this is the testimony: God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever possesses the Son has life; whoever does not possess the Son of God does not have life.

I have always been a fan of Stephen Covey’s book The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. If you have not read it, you should. It is very easy to see spiritual principles explained through the seven habits. Recently, I’ve discovered a deep correlation between the seven habits and the seven sacraments. See if this makes sense to you. Covey groups the seven habits into one group of three and a second group of four. He says the first three habits help achieve a private victory while the second four habits lead to a public victory. He puts it like this: “The seven habits are divided into the Private Victory, which means mastering self, and the Public Victory, mastering relationships with others.” He continues: “You look inside yourself firstly, you develop yourself and clear the limiting factors in your own life, before you become effective in your public life with others.”

I believe the seven sacraments can also be categorized into a group of three and a group of four, a private victory and a public victory. The first three sacraments of initiation: baptism, confirmation and Communion should help us achieve a private victory of faith inside ourselves. They establish our fundamental world-view, our purpose and our paradigm in life. I am a Christian, a child of God and my purpose is to love. The second group of four sacraments help us achieve the public victory of relating to others: holy orders, marriage, anointing of the sick and confession.

Now, here’s how Covey can help us be a better Christian. The problems we experience in the public victory are always rooted in the failures in the private victory. We haven’t cleared the limiting factors in our own life, before we can become effective in our public life, and so we deal ineffectively with others, our partners and our parishes. If you do not win the private victory, there is no public victory. If you do not get the first three sacraments right, you will struggle with to get the second four sacraments right.

In his first letter, St. John talks about the importance of the private victory, the first three sacraments of initiation. He writes: “So there are three who testify, the Spirit, the water and the Blood, and the three are of one accord.” St. John is using a Christian code language, but he is speaking about the sacraments of initiation. The water refers to baptism, the Blood is Holy Communion, and the Spirit is received in Confirmation. To accept their testimony, therefore, is to win the private victory of faith, to believe in God and his Son, Jesus Christ, or orient ourselves as Christians in this world. Only if we first win the private victory of deep personal faith through the sacraments of initiation, can we hope to win the public victory in our relationships with others (especially in our marriages and in our priesthood), living the sacraments of public service. In the gospel we see Jesus leaving the crowds to go off to deserted places to pray. Why? Through prayer and solitude Jesus took time to win the private victory – re-immersing himself in his relationship with his Father – before returning to the crowds and working on the public victory.

My friends, I think we tend to focus too much on our public victories and ignore our private victory. But the private victory in our Christian life is the crucial one, and we should dedicate time and attention to it like Jesus did in his earthly ministry. We need to re-immerse ourselves in the graces of baptism, Communion and Confirmation and listen to the testimony of the water, the Blood and the Spirit. Let me suggest three simple ways to reconnect with our Christian roots. First, spend time in solitude, go get some “me time.” But make your “me time” also “God time,” perhaps in Adoration or praying the rosary. Second, read spiritual books or do a Scripture study. Have you read this great new book called Oh, Lord, Have Mercy? It’s all the crazy today! And third, listen to what God says to you through the testimony of the water, the Blood and the Spirit. God has so much to say and share, but are we listening? It is not a transmitter problem; it is a receiver problem.

Stephen Covey was right: there can be no public victory without first the private victory. And the sacraments are divinely designed to do exactly the same thing in our Christian life. The water, the Blood and the Spirit help us achieve a great personal victory of faith, so we can go forth and win the public victory for the Kingdom.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Sucker for the Spirit

Hearing the Holy Spirit teaching us about the human spirit

01/10/2019

Luke 4:14-22 Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news of him spread throughout the whole region. He taught in their synagogues and was praised by all. He 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." And all spoke highly of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.

One thing I learned at the University of Dallas was to become a sucker for classic literature. My “happy place” would be a recliner with a dusty old copy of Dostoyevsky and a dusty old bottle of cabernet sauvignon. But it took me a long time and a lot of hard work to learn to love the poetry of Robert Frost, the comedy of Shakespeare, and the epic of Homer. The reason classics are hard to appreciate is their language is different (even though they are translated into English) and the way the authors present human tragedy and triumph is completely different than I would have. That difference was daunting at first, but then it became a delight. It slowly dawned on me that what I really loved about classical literature is that the Holy Spirit was inspiring these geniuses of humanity. It was the eternal Holy Spirit that helped these authors express something about the essential human spirit.

In the gospel today, we see how sensitive Jesus is to the grace and guidance of the Holy Spirit. At the beginning of his public ministry in Galilee, he adopts the language of the prophet Isaiah saying: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor.” The Jewish people would have loved and revered the writings of Isaiah far more than I love Dante, and Jesus is saying, “You haven’t seen anything yet.” That is, if you think the Spirit of God was working through the ancient prophet, you will see the Spirit do far greater things through me.

But if we keep reading in Luke 4, past where the reading ends this morning, we see the Spirit inspiring Jesus to do things very differently than the people expected. Indeed, so differently, that they want to kill him by the end of the chapter. That’s always the difficulty in learning to love the Holy Spirit, whether he’s inspiring Milton or St. Matthew. He says things differently from us and behaves in ways we would not expect. But only if we become a sucker for the Spirit – and love what he loves – can the eternal Holy Spirit teach us something about the essential human spirit.

This insight about the Spirit can help us in our daily lives and our Christian journey. I have learned to be a better pastor when I try to see how the Holy Spirit works through other people. I may think differently from Fr. Stephen and Dc. Greg, but that does not mean the Holy Spirit is not working through them also, and not just me. At first the difference is daunting but later it becomes a delight. Wouldn’t it be helpful if married couples kept this in mind? The Holy Spirit could be speaking through my wife like he spoke through Wordsworth! The difference is daunting at first but then later it becomes a delight. Perhaps our politicians would be able to overcome personal and partisan divides by seeing how the same Spirit inspires those on the other side of the aisle and pass sensible policies for the common good. And I would be cautious about casting blame on our politicians because they only represent the deep divides in the people, in us. They are only symbols of our own lack of sanity and civility. Politicians as well as people need to see the Spirit working in liberals as well as conservatives, as we see the Spirit inspire Aristotle as well as Aquinas, pagans as well as prelates. The difference is daunting at first, but then later it becomes a delight.

This evening I cannot wait to kick back in my recliner and crack open a classic and uncork a red wine. But more than that, I cannot wait to learn what the eternal Holy Spirit may teach me about the essential human spirit. I know one thing for sure: it will be much different than what I would have said or thought or done. And to me that difference is a delight.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Fearless Love

Learning how to increase love and decrease fear

01/09/2019

1 John 4:11-18 Beloved, if God so loved us, we also must love one another. No one has ever seen God. Yet, if we love one another, God remains in us, and his love is brought to perfection in us. God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him. In this is love brought to perfection among us, that we have confidence on the day of judgment because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so one who fears is not yet perfect in love.

Boys and girls, there are two things that motivate most of our actions: either fear or love. Fear forces us to run away from something, whereas love leads us to run toward something. Here are a few examples. Some of you behave well at Mass because you are afraid of getting in trouble with Mr. Edwards (you run away from him). But others behave properly because they love Mass and want to get the most out of it (you run toward Jesus). I’ll be honest, sometimes fear motivates me to prepare good homilies because I am afraid you will fall asleep otherwise. But love for each of you also motivates me so you might learn something that will help you to be truly happy.

I think the difference between fear and love could be seen in the college football championship between Alabama and Clemson. I bet the Bama players were motivated by fear of Nick Saben (he’s a tough coach), but I suspect many players were moved by love Dabo Sweeney (he’s a compassionate coach). Monday night’s results are evidence that love motivates better than fear by a factor of 44 to 16, the final score. Some of you may have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, and you probably feel both fear and love in that relationship. You love the other person, but you also fear losing them. But the best relationships have much more love and a lot less fear keeping the two people together. If we’re honest, we know we are all motivated by both fear and love, but love is always the better motive.

In the first reading from the first letter of St. John, he explains why love should be stronger motive than fear; indeed it should be our only motive. St. John writes: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so one who fears is not yet perfect in love.” In other words, every Christian has to sort out both fear and love in his or her own heart; what motivates me? Sometimes the fear of going to hell makes us behave like a better Christian than the love of going to heaven, like fear makes you behave better at Mass. Fear of hell is called “imperfect contrition,” whereas love of heaven is called “perfect contrition.” By the way, these are the two reasons Catholics go to confession. Some go to confession because they fear hell; others go to confession because they love heaven. In short, fear is not a bad motive; it’s just that love is the best motive for Christian life.

Boys and girls, as you go through your three years here at Trinity, you will see fear of this school giving way to love of this school. When you arrive here as 7th graders, you feel like the deer in the headlights. Everything is new and different and difficult. You first feel fear. Then, as 8th graders, you start to settle into the routine and you accept the rules, and fear starts to give way to love. You grow to respect and love your teachers, your coaches and your school. By the time you are in 9th grade, hopefully all fear has fallen away and you feel only love for your classmates. Sometimes we wish the 9th graders felt a little more fear around here!

Yesterday, I had the funeral for Keith Glenn, who graduated from Trinity in 1997. He died tragically in a house fire three days after Christmas, on December 28. At the funeral luncheon, a big group of his Trinity classmates sat together and shared stories and talked about the good old days at Trinity. They felt no fear, only love for each other, and especially for Keith. As St. John had predicted, “perfect love drives out all fear.”

What got you out of bed this morning? Was it fear of being late, or your parents yelling at you, or missing class? Or was it love of seeing your friends again and learning something that will help you be happy? Fear is not a bad motive; but love is the best motive.

Praised be Jesus Christ!