Touch or Die

Studying Thomas’ touch in order to reach Jesus

04/28/2019

John 20:19-31 On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you." When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, "We have seen the Lord." But he said to them, "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his handsand put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side,  I will not believe." Now a week later his disciples were again inside and Thomas was with them. Jesus came, although the doors were locked, and stood in their midst and said, "Peace be with you." Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe." Thomas answered and said to him, "My Lord and my God!" Jesus said to him, "Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed."

We all know we have five senses – sight and smell, taste and touch, and hearing – and their proper functioning contributes to our health and happiness. But did you know that the sense of touch, unlike the other four senses, is necessary for survival? In other words, we would literally die if we were touch deprived or we could die from so-called “skin hunger.” Babies that go for prolonged periods without any physical contact – even if they receive proper food, clothing and shelter – will simply die because they are touch deprived. That is a simple scientific fact about the sense of touch.

When I go home to visit my parents, I sometimes find my father lying in bed taking a nap. I love to crawl into bed next to him and snuggle. I am not sure he loves it, but I sure do. I dread the day I will not be able to touch him and snuggle. Patients in hospitals recover faster when a doctor warmly touches them during a visit, rather than when he or she stands coldly aloof. A February 22, 2010 New York Times article argued that sports teams that are “touchier” tend to perform better. The article stated: “The most touch bonded teams were the Boston Celtics and the Los Angeles Lakers, currently two of the league’s top teams; at the bottom were the mediocre Sacramento Kings and Charlotte Bobcats.” Too bad for all you Kings and Bobcats fans. In other words, physical touch not only enhances human life; it is necessary for the very existence of human life.

In the gospel today we hear about doubting Thomas the apostle and his need to touch Jesus. When Jesus appears first to the apostles, Thomas is absent. Maybe he had gone to a Celtics-Lakers game because they are more touchy teams. Then Jesus appears again and tells Thomas: “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving but believe.” We sometimes conclude there must have been something wrong with Thomas that he needed to touch our Lord. On the contrary, I believe there was something very right, namely, Thomas was being very human and even very holy. How so? Just like a baby would die if he were touch deprived, so Thomas feels he would die spiritually if he could not touch our Lord. And what is the result and consequence of Thomas reaching out and lovingly touching our Lord? Thomas’s doubts disappear and, filled with faith, he fearlessly travels to India, where he converts my ancestors to Christianity.

Many years ago I asked my dad how long our family had been Catholic. He answered that we have been Catholic for 2,000 years thanks to St. Thomas. I am convinced that loving touch by Thomas in the upper room 2,000 years ago was the first domino in a long line of dominoes that fell one by one, and that eventually led me here to be the pastor of Winslow, and stand before you today. Physical touch, therefore, not only enhances human life, it is necessary for the existence of human life, both physically and spiritually speaking. Without physical touch, we would die.

I believe the whole Catholic sacramental system is divinely designed to respond to the human need for physical contact and the sense of touch. No doubt making a firm act of faith is fundamental whenever we receive a sacrament. Faith disposes us to more grace like dilated eyes can receive more light. Nevertheless, a critical component of each sacrament is the “epiclesis,” or the laying on of hand, when the Holy Spirit descends on the elements or matter of the sacraments. Have you noticed how at one point in the process of every sacrament, the priest or deacon extends his hands? Imagine his hand like that hand of St. Thomas reaching out to touch the pierced side of Jesus. That touch releases torrents of grace. That touch produces healing and holiness in a way far greater than when I snuggle next to my dad in bed, or when the Lakers hug Labron James after a victory. Physical touch not only enhances human life, it is necessary for the existence of human life, in this world and in the next.

By the way, do you know what is funny about our modern smart phones? They are highly sensitive to human touch. That’s why my dad hates them, because he touches them like he learned to bang on a manual typewriter. That’s not how they work. But as we become more absorbed into our phones and communicate on social media platforms, we lose opportunities to communicate being physically present, like Jesus was present to Thomas and Jesus is present to us in the matter of the sacraments. Phones are becoming more touch sensitive, while human beings are become more touch deprived. And that, too, will have consequences both for enhancing human life, and for the existence of human life.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Msgr. John O’Donnell

Memorial Mass Homily

04/26/2019

No one knows a man as well as his wife does. She knows the good and the bad, the pretty and the pretty pathetic, the incredible and the incompetent, in a word, she knows all sides of her spouse. Since most Catholic priests are not married, the Catholic clergy’s equivalent is a priest’s secretary, which common parlance would call “work wife.” And so when I wanted to get some material for Msgr. O’Donnell’s memorial Mass, I sat down to visit with Kay Geisbauer, Dorothy Sullivan, Cindy McNally and Virginian Ricketts, all of whom would feel honored to be Msgr. O’Donnell’s work-wife. We talked for almost three hours, and every few minutes they would preface a comment with, “But you cannot write this story down,” which, of course, are the only stories I am going to share in this homily.

First, let me share a few facts with which you may or may not be familiar. Monsignor’s parents were both from Ireland, but they met and married in New York City. The family moved to Philadelphia, where the little monsignor was born on January 29, 1928. His charming personality and his cheerful priesthood were the products of Catholic schools, which he always loved. He entered St. John’s Home Mission Seminary in Little Rock in 1946, and was ordained a priest on May 27, 1954 by Bishop Albert L. Flectcher. He served in many parishes in the diocese, but clearly his favorite was Immaculate Conception in Fort Smith. He saved the best for last, and that’s why he retired from here in 2006. He was the last Irish pastor, perfect for this parish originally named St. Patrick and populated by immigrants from the Emerald Isle. He followed in the footsteps of great shepherds named Monaghan, Walsh, O’Connell, Horan, Desmond, Gallagher, (another) Walsh, and beloved Galvin. In 1996 Msgr. John O’Donnell strode onto the sacred stage of this church like Fred Astaire staring in the movie “The Sky’s the Limit.” Those are the facts of his life. Everything that follows will be mostly fiction.

One thing that the four ladies mentioned many times was what a gentleman Msgr. O’Donnell was toward women. He called all women, “Darlin’,” opened the door for them, insisted the ladies walk in front of him, and of course, he was charming and witty. More than one woman secretly considered him a “Father-what-a-waste,” because any woman would consider him quite a catch. Once on vacation he was relaxing by the swimming pool in his shorts, no shirt, and surrounded by fawning female guests, who could not imagine in a million years they were flirting with a Catholic priest. And of course O’Donnell did not tell them his little secret; he was having too much fun. The following morning, when monsignor walked out of the hotel in his Pontiff 3, Roman collar and full cassock on his way to Mass, their jaws dropped. But I’m sure several still followed him to Mass.

Whenever monsignor left the church office, he remarked to Kay, “I’m going out into the vineyard,” which was anywhere and everywhere he happened to be, even the sitting at a poolside. When he returned from vacations, he brought the staff gifts from his travels. Monsignor knew that when people take a priest out to eat, they never let the priest pay for the meal. So, at the end of a meal, he would excuse himself, pretend to go to the bathroom, but on his way to the little priest’s room, he gave his credit card to the waitress and covered the meal. St. Paul taught the Ephesians spousal love, saying: “Husbands love your wives, even as Christ loved the Church and handed himself over for her to sanctify her.” And that is how Monsignor O’Donnell loved all women, just like Christ loves the Church.

Now, monsignor would be the first person to admit he was not perfect. But he was one of those smart shepherds who firmly believed that God’s grace and transform a struggle into a success, and a blunder into a blessing. One area where monsignor knew he needed a little help was in hoarding. His desk was constantly cluttered with papers, books, notes, gifts, cards, etc. And when there wasn’t room on top of his desk, he tossed papers, pens and paraphernalia on the floor. But his hoarding habit became the inspiration for an article published in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette about Lent. Let me share his closing comments: “I keep thinking that if only I kept on top of what’s cluttering up my life, then the spiritual pack-rat syndrome wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe this Lent as I think about throwing-up, throwing-out, and throwing-away, I’ll also, just as importantly, plan to re-place, re-store, and re-fill the hole in my soul with those gospel treasures that won’t gather rust, dust, mold or moth, and I’ll never get tired of hoarding!” In other words, Monsignor O’Donnell could turn a vice into a virtue, and he always left you laughing.

Another area where monsignor might have had to polish his halo a little was he enjoyed a good drink. He loved to eat lunch at Little Rock’s Flying Fish restaurant, and he did not hesitate to order a beer or wine. Every meal is much better with a little merlot. He would even order a martini occasionally, but always in moderation. Is martini and moderation an oxymoron? But after all, he was only obeying the injunction of St. Paul in his first letter to Timothy, where the astute apostle advised: “Stop drinking only water, but have a little wine for the sake of your stomach and your frequently illnesses.” That’s in the bible, folks, a verse every Catholic should memorize. Dorothy Sullivan sometimes gave monsignor a little wine to wash down his pills in the nursing home when he had trouble swallowing, and both the pinot and the pills were equally medicinal. John O’Donnell obeyed both his work-wife and the Word of God.

And finally, Monsignor O’Donnell was a priest’s priest, meaning he had the heart of the Good Shepherd. John 10 describes Jesus, the Good Shepherd, who says: “I came so that they may have life and have it more abundantly.” Monsignor O’Donnell lived life abundantly. His nickname in school was “wiggles” and he excelled in boxing and in dancing. Boxing requires a lot of dancing. He started the St. Patrick’s Day Parade here in Fort Smith and was the inaugural Grand Marshal. At parties and fundraisers, he was the first to step on the dance floor, which the ladies loved. Pay attention, gentlemen. He started the Lenten ecumenical services with other churches, and enjoyed lunch with Protestant pastors. Whole families, like Sub and Judy Ollie’s, converted to Catholicism after just the first time they heard the monsignor preach.

Monsignor wrote a moving introduction to the 150 year anniversary book commemorating I.C. parish. Surely he was being autobiographical when he wrote: “All of the foregoing simply means that we shall emulate the example of our forebearers and broaden our shoulders with continuing works of Grace, Peace, and Service to the end that our children’s children will look back and bless our memory. We can insure and assure that they will bask in the glory of the bright legacy that we preserved and passed on to them.” Those broad shoulders belonged not only to the parish but also to the pastor. Monsignor O’Donnell, like the Good Shepherd, led many into verdant pastures, and being Irish, he knew a verdant pasture when he saw one.

Indeed, the good monsignor even timed his passing from this valley of tears into the peaceful pastures of paradise on Holy Saturday (April 20), the precise day when the Good Shepherd – who is also the sheep gate – opened the Pearly Gates. Dorothy shared this little-known detail about monsignor’s funeral arrangements. He had requested that Tony Reith build his casket made from plain wood, and that’s the casket he will be buried in next Wednesday in the Priests’ Circle in Calvary Cemetery. Popes often request the same thing as a gesture of humility, which the cardinals obediently do, placing the body of the pontiff in a plain wooden box. But then they place that box inside an incredibly ornate and opulent sarcophagus. We may not have a splendid sarcophagus to lay monsignor’s body in, but our sentiments of love can sanctify and beautify his box far more than silver or gold.

Let me leave you with a lyrical poem that Msgr. O’Donnell himself wrote tying together both Christmas and Easter, called “Bethlehem’s Gifts.” I hope you hear his voice rather than min as I recite it:

Dear Jesus, Gift to me, / Let me wrap myself in Thee, / Tie me with the ribbons of Grace, / Swaddle me in Thy holy place, / Weave for me the garment of glory / That I may serve that old, told story / Of peace on earth, good will to men, / Until in triumph you come back again / And lift us up as gift to Thee, / And rhapsodize for eternity –  / In Emmanuel and Trinity. Amen.

May Jesus Christ, the eternal Shepherd, usher John O’Donnell, the earthly shepherd, into verdant pastures. And may the Risen One give peace and comfort to monsignor’s work-wives, and to the rest of us, who love and will miss him.

May the road rise to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face.

The rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

All Beggars

Seeing how we all beg for things besides faith

04/24/2019

Acts of the Apostles 3:1-10 Peter and John were going up to the temple area for the three o’clock hour of prayer. And a man crippled from birth was carried and placed at the gate of the temple called “the Beautiful Gate” every day to beg for alms from the people who entered the temple. When he saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked for alms. But Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, “Look at us.” He paid attention to them, expecting to receive something from them. Peter said, “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk.” Then Peter took him by the right hand and raised him up, and immediately his feet and ankles grew strong. He leaped up, stood, and walked around, and went into the temple with them, walking and jumping and praising God.

Have you noticed the proliferation of people who are begging on the street corners of Fort Smith? Apparently, this is a wide-spread phenomenon because I see people begging when I visit my brother in Fayetteville, and go see my parents in Little Rock. The poor people stake out their street corners like Catholics stake out their church pews. God help you if you accidentally stand on someone else’s corner or sit in someone else’s pew. Now, as a purely personal matter, I do not give money to people who are begging on the streets. But at the same time I do not want to judge or condemn anyone who does give alms to the poor like that. Each person has to follow the dictates of his or her conscience.

Whenever I see someone begging, though, I always think of Acts 3, our first reading, where Peter and John come across a beggar on their way to the Temple. Peter’s words pop into my mind when he said: “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give to you: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk.” And the man was miraculously healed. But more importantly we read: “He leaped up, stood, walked around, and went into the temple with them, walking and jumping and praising God.” In other words, even more than restoring his physical health, the miracle healed the man’s spiritual malady. He received the gift of faith which is more precious than silver or gold. That’s what I wish I could give the preponderance of people begging on all the street corners of our country: the precious gift of faith. They need faith more than a five dollar bill.

But folks, before we jump on our high horse and look down on the beggars asking for alms, we should ask ourselves: what are we begging for before we jump up and go to church? We may not be sitting on street corners, but in our hearts we have desires and demands we make of God before we accept him in faith. Just like the beggar who wants a fiver more than faith, so let me mention a few things we may prefer to faith in God.

First of all, we can all put a higher premium on finances than faith. I feel this temptation as a pastor. I worry about paying the bills, keeping the lights on, the landscaping lovely, and buying new heating and cooling for the church. That’s why we don’t turn on the air conditioning in the hot summer months in order to inspire people to give more in the collection. That’s called “sweat equity.” Parishioners do that too by working extra hours on Sunday instead of going to Mass and resting on the Lord’s day. We are not unlike the beggars who want financial security more than faith.

Secondly, we may be more persuaded by the discovering of science than the demands of spirituality. When scripture comes in conflict with science we sometimes stand on the side of science. I am certainly not advocating a fundamentalist or overly literal interpretation of the bible. However, we seem to have far more faith in scientific theories than in sound theology. We put more credence in the words of men than in the Word of God. Isn’t this the tragedy of our atheistic culture? Like the beggar on the street corner, we ask for scientific proofs for our faith before we will jump up and walk into the temple to worship.

Thirdly, we beg for peace and prosperity rather than sacrifice or suffering before we come to faith in God. If God does not answer our prayers for healing, or for a new job, or for longer life, then we will not believe; our faith is shaken. I sometimes wonder if this is why some families choose not to send their children to Catholic schools because we do not have all the amenities of other schools. The main thing we off our students is faith, like Peter said to the beggar: “I have neither silver nor gold but what I do have I give to you…” Could this be why Catholics choose other churches to attend that offer all kinds of programs and powerful preaching? We, too, beg for sermons that do not put us to sleep, and we go where we can get them. We are not that different from the beggars on the street corners.

Let me leave you with a quotation from Pope Benedict XVI. He asked a provocative question and then he answered it. The pope emeritus wrote: “What did Jesus actually bring if not world peace, universal prosperity and a better world?...The answer is very simple: God. He has brought God…It is only because our hardness of heart that we think this is too little” (Jesus of Nazareth, 44). In other words, whether we are sitting on the corner of a street or sitting at the corner of a pew, we are all begging for something more than for faith.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

No Sugarplum

Dealing with the hard saying of Jesus

04/23/2019

John 20:11-18 Mary Magdalene stayed outside the tomb weeping. And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb and saw two angels in white sitting there, one at the head and one at the feet where the Body of Jesus had been. And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there, but did not know it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She thought it was the gardener and said to him, “Sir, if you carried him away, tell me where you laid him, and I will take him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,” which means Teacher. Jesus said to her, “Stop holding on to me,for I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and then reported what he had told her.

Every now and then in the scriptures Jesus says something that makes us wince. It’s not what we expected and we don’t get very excited about it. Let me give you three quick examples. In Matthew 23:27, Jesus scolds the scribes and Pharisees, saying: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees. You are like whitewashed tombs, which appear beautiful on the outside, but inside are full of dead men’s bones and every kind of filth.” Hard to imagine, gentle, meek, humble Jesus being that critical and caustic, but he was. The second was the scathing correction of his closest companion, St. Peter. In Matthew 16:23, Jesus says, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” I cannot imagine saying that to my worst enemy, let alone to my dearest friend. But Jesus did. And a third instance was about the Eucharist, where Jesus commanded his disciples to eat his Body and drink his Blood. At the end of John 6, we read people’s reaction: “Then many of his disciples who were listening said, ‘This saying is hard; who can accept it?’” Indeed, many people criticize the Catholic Church for taking Jesus as his word in John 6, and they wince. If we’re honest, we all find that saying rather hard to accept, and we probably wince at it, too.

In his book called Jesus of Nazareth, Pope Benedict XVI said this about Jesus’ shocking sayings: “This new goodness of the Lord is no sugarplum” (p. 67). In other words, Jesus is trying to change our human sensitivities into heavenly sensibilities. And when he does that, we wince.

Today’s gospel presents another instance of Jesus’ sayings that was no sugarplum. Jesus meets Mary at the tomb on Easter Sunday and she is weeping. Her Lord whom she loved had died. After a brief exchange of pleasantries where she mistakes the Messiah for the gardener, Mary exclaims in joyful recognition: “Rabbouni!” which means teacher. And then she did the most human thing we all would have done, she embraced him. But again, Jesus utters surprising and even shocking words, saying, “Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father.” Wow, what a rejection. We can see here what Pope Benedict meant when he said salvation is not a sugarplum. It is not always sweet but sometimes it is bitter. But I think what Jesus is trying to do is transform our human sensitivities into heavenly sensibilities. Just like Jesus corrected the scribes and Pharisees, and his friend Peter, and his disciples, so no he corrects Mary Magdalene. He’s saying in effect: try not to think and feel and act like human beings do, but like the heavenly Father does. And when we do, we wince.

I am so grateful to the people of God – all of you – for teaching me not to wince at Jesus’ hard sayings. I want the sugarplum, but you teach me to taste the castor oil. I marvel at how some of our parishioners can converse rather casual about death. The thought of my own demise makes me wince. Some people joke about who they want to be next to in the columbarium and who they don’t want to be next to, and they help me to overcome my fear of death. No sugarplum. Sometimes I feel guilty for not being able to go home and visit my parents more often, especially as they are getting older and need help. But my parents remind me that my parish and pastoral duties should be my priority. No sugarplum. I am humbled as I watched our RCIA candidates struggle with the hard sayings of Catholic teaching and tradition all year long. And they still joyfully “swam the Tiber” and entered the Church last Saturday. No sugarplum. I could give you endless examples of how you inspire me to transform my human sensitivities into heavenly sensibilities. And I just want to say thank you, and I feel very humbled.

You are like the two angels in the gospel today who consoled Mary Magdalene, and you say to me, “Why are you weeping?” Or, rather you are the angels who say to me, “Why are you wincing?”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Muscle Memory

Letting our minds rest while our muscles remember

04/18/2019

John 13:1-15 Before the feast of Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to pass from this world to the Father. He loved his own in the world and he loved them to the end. The devil had already induced Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot, to hand him over. So, during supper, fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power and that he had come from God and was returning to God, he rose from supper and took off his outer garments. He took a towel and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and dry them with the towel around his waist. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Master, are you going to wash my feet?" Jesus answered and said to him, "What I am doing, you do not understand now, but you will understand later." Peter said to him, "You will never wash my feet." Jesus answered him, "Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me."

Simon Peter said to him, "Master, then not only my feet, but my hands and head as well."

Have you heard of the term “muscle memory”? Even if you have not, you experience muscle memory in everyday life. When you walked into the church this evening, your hand automatically reached for the holy water font to bless yourself and make the sign of the cross. You didn’t even have to think about it because your muscles remembered for your mind. Muscle memory helps us ride our bikes, type on a keyboard, and drive a manual shift car.  Last Saturday, I heard Tony DeSare play the piano with the Fort Smith Symphony, and he used not only his two hands, but even his one foot to play the piano. His muscle memory stretches from his finger tips to his toe. In other words, it’s not just our mind that has a memory, so do our muscles. And in a sense, when our muscles remember, our minds rest.

I love that scene from the movie “The Karate Kid” when Daniel starts taking lessons in karate from Mr. Miagi. The Japanese mentor says at their first lesson: “Must make sacred pact. I promise teach karate, that my part. You promise learn: I say, you do. No question. That your part. Deal?” Daniel is bewildered, but agrees. Mr. Miagi continues: “First, wash all the car,” and he points to a long line of antique cars. Daniel begins to object, “Why do I have to wash all the cars?” but Miagi interrupts: “Dat, dat, dat! Remember deal: no question.” Then he explains: “Wax on, right hand. Wax off, left hand,” and he makes a circular motion with each hand. Of course, Daniel has no idea what these mundane and menial tasks have to do with mastering the martial art of karate. Later, though, When Mr. Miagi throws several punches at Daniel’s face, the young man easily deflects them with his hands. How did he do that? Because of muscle memory. Martial arts, like all arts, is fundamentally about muscle memory, where our minds rest while our muscles remember.

The gospel of Holy Thursday is taken from John 13, where Jesus makes a sacred pact with his apostles. He does not teach them the fundamentals of karate, but rather the fundamentals of love, that is, humble service. Jesus doesn’t make the apostles wash cars, rather he does make them wash feet. But at least they don’t have to wax them! He says: “If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet.” And notice that Peter objects to this mundane, menial task like Daniel did. But Jesus says in effect: “Dat, dat, dat!” Our Lord wants Peter to develop a little muscle memory so that humble service becomes second nature for him. Indeed, in the end Peter would not hesitate to give his life in service of the gospel by being crucified upside-down. His mind might recoil but his muscles would remember, and do what love demands. Apostleship, like all arts, requires the muscles to remember and the mind to rest, because sometimes the mind can get in the way of apostleship.

Folks, may I suggest a couple of areas where it is more important for our muscles to remember than for our minds? First of all, at Mass and in receiving Holy Communion. I know it can be easy to engage autopilot and just go through the motions of the Mass, and that happens to priests as well as people. A friend of mine likes to say, “Some parishioners are pew potatoes!” Our muscles attend Mass while our minds are planning our next meal. But don’t be too hard to those whose minds wander during worship, even your own. At least people make it to Mass and are physically present. That’s better than missing Mass completely. One said saint: “When we kneel to pray, at least our body prays even if our minds are miles away.” By the way, the Church also teaches that a Catholic who has Alzheimer’s and cannot remember what Holy Communion is, may still receive the Sacred Host.  Why? Because sometimes our muscles remember even when our minds rest.

On the other hand, some muscle memory must be forgotten or untrained, for example, when we have developed bad habits of sin and vice. Just like we may have good muscle memories, so we can have bad muscle memories, like drinking to excess, or smoking narcotics, using curse words, etc. Often we do those things without even thinking about them. That is why God gave us the holy season of Lent: forty days to erase that muscle memory. Behavioral experts say it takes about forty days to both learn a good habit and likewise to unlearn a bad habit. Our mind cannot force us to unlearn a bad habit; the muscles alone must both remember and forget.

What memories have you taught your muscles, and what memories are you teaching them every day? Your muscles are learning as much as your mind. On this Holy Thursday, let’s make a sacred pact with Jesus that he might teach us his lesson of humble service, so that we can love each other as easily as we ride a bike, play a piano, or dip our hand in holy water when we enter a church. And even after we die and our bodies are laid in a grave, our minds may forget, but our muscles will remember.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Mountain Top Moments

Basking in the glow of the resurrection

04/22/2019

Matthew 28:8-15 Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away quickly from the tomb, fearful yet overjoyed, and ran to announce the news to his disciples. And behold, Jesus met them on their way and greeted them. They approached, embraced his feet, and did him homage. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.” While they were going, some of the guard went into the city and told the chief priests all that had happened. The chief priests assembled with the elders and took counsel; then they gave a large sum of money to the soldiers, telling them, “You are to say, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him while we were asleep.’ And if this gets to the ears of the governor, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.” The soldiers took the money and did as they were instructed. And this story has circulated among the Jews to the present day.

We have just concluded a truly extraordinary Holy Week, and I would like to hit a few highlights. Indeed, our whole Christian life we do nothing but hit highlights of Holy Week because anything good that happens in our lives always flows from the events of that wondrous week. If we step back and survey the liturgical landscape we’ll see that Holy Week is the mountain top of the whole year, in the sense that everything before leads up to it, and everything after flows down from it. The Catholic calendar year begins with Advent and the Birth of Jesus in Bethlehem at Christmas. That’s a sort of spiritual sea level. But the year gradually grows and intensifies through Lent into Holy Week and finally reaches the apex and zenith at the Resurrection. That’s our spiritual Mount Everest. The rest of the year we’re climbing down as we go through Pentecost, Ordinary Time and finally the Feast of Christ the King, the last Sunday before Advent. That is the larger landscape where we walk. Now let me hit five highlights of the five major moments of Mount Everest.

First, Palm Sunday commenced Holy Week with the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, the City of David, because he’s the heir to the throne. Our Lord rides in as king, the son of David, but he’s a humble king because he’s on the back of a donkey. All the triumphalism of Palm Sunday is touched with tragedy.  Jesus knows well where this week will lead: the cruelty of the crucifixion. I love Palm Sunday because the church is packed at all the Masses. Whenever we give something away for free, like palm branches, the people line up for miles. But I’m glad they come, whatever their motives, because we’re cresting the mountain top.

Second, on Monday we celebrated the Chrism Mass at the Cathedral in Little Rock. I love the chance to see all my brother priests in the diocese, whom I don’t see for most of the year. We’re spread out all over the state. Did you know there are 132 priests serving over 155,911 Catholics in Arkansas? Of those 132 priests, 97 are diocesan (like me) and 35 are religious (like the Benedictines, for instance). I also learned that the average age of the clergy in our diocese is 49. I knew I was an average priest, but I didn’t think I was that average. We are blessed with truly holy priests. They are not perfect priests, but they love the Lord and they love his people. The priests are the sherpas that carry our bags to the top of the mountain; we’d never see the peek without our priests.

Thirdly, we celebrated Holy Thursday, and the Mass of the Lord’s Supper. On that blessed night the Lord Jesus celebrated Passover (like a devout Jew) and left two great gifts for his Church: the Eucharist of his Body and Blood, and the institution of the priesthood. The two are inextricably linked. If there’s one thing priests should do well, even if we screw up everything else, it is celebrate the Mass. In virtually every sacristy in the world hangs a little inspirational quotation that says: “Priest of God, celebrate this Mass as if it were you first Mass, as if it were your last Mass, as if it were your only Mass.” That’s why I prepare a homily for every Mass: what if this is my last Mass? Every Mass should feel like a mountain top moment for a Catholic.

Fourthly, we entered Good Friday and the Passion of our Savior, his saving and savage death on the Cross. Here at I.C., we always have an English service at 3 p.m., and a Spanish service at 5 p.m. This year the Spanish service actually took four hours, so naturally, I let Fr. Stephen take it. He truly felt some sacrifice on Good Friday. Even though our English service is in the middle of the work day, the church was packed. Why? Well, because our people wanted to crowd on the mountain top of Golgotha, where God’s love for us becomes naked for all the world to see. Jesus said in John 15:13, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for his friends.”

And fifthly and finally, Holy Saturday, the Easter Vigil and Resurrection Sunday. As you know, our beloved former pastor, Msgr. John O’Donnell passed away on Holy Saturday. That lovable and laughing Irishman got the last laugh, though, as he celebrated Good Friday on earth, but Easter Sunday in heaven. Also at the Easter Vigil, which Fr. Stephen flawlessly conducted, we welcomed 21 new Catholics into the fold. I am sure they all feel like they are standing on the mountain top today.

My friends, as we begin our descent down the mountain, don’t forget where you have been last week. Remember the mountain top moments, especially when you are walking through the valley of tears.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Permanent Wave

Seeing how the resurrection changes life on earth

04/21/2019

John 20:1-9 On the first day of the week, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark, and saw the stone removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and told them, “They have taken the Lord from the tomb, and we don’t know where they put him.” So Peter and the other disciple went out and came to the tomb. They both ran, but the other disciple ran faster than Peter and arrived at the tomb first; he bent down and saw the burial cloths there, but did not go in. When Simon Peter arrived after him, he went into the tomb and saw the burial cloths there, and the cloth that had covered his head, not with the burial cloths but rolled up in a separate place. Then the other disciple also went in, the one who had arrived at the tomb first, and he saw and believed. For they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead.

I have to start this Easter Sunday homily with a sad news, and it involves Fr. Stephen. Fr. Stephen was blissfully driving along the highway when he saw the Easter Bunny hopping across the middle of the road. He swerved to miss the Bunny, but unfortunately, hit it hard and killed it. As you know, Fr. Stephen is a sensitive soul. He got out of the car and holding the Bunny, started crying. A woman driving the same way stopped to help. She asked what was wrong. Fr. Stephen explained: “I feel terrible. I accidentally hit the Easter Bunny and killed it. There may not be an Easter because of me. What should I do?” The woman told the priest not to worry. She retrieved a spray can from her car trunk, walked over to the limp bunny, and sprayed the entire can over the little furry animal.

Miraculously, the Easter Bunny came back to life, jumped up, waved its paw at the two people and hopped down the road. But about 50 yards away, the Bunny stopped, waved, and continued hopping. Again, about 50 yards farther it suddenly stopped, waved, and continued hopping, until finally out of sight. Fr. Stephen was dumbfounded and turned to the woman and asked: “What on earth did you spray on that Bunny?” The woman turned the can around so the man could read the label. It said: “Hair spray. Restores life to dead hair. Adds permanent wave.” I know that was a pretty corny joke, but I think it also touches the reality of the resurrection. When the resurrection becomes really real, it puts a pep in our step, and a permanent wave of joy not in our hair, but in our hearts.

In the gospel today, the resurrection becomes real to Peter and John, the unnamed “beloved disciple.” Many of Magdala, called the Apostle to the Apostles, because she was the first to share the Good News of the resurrection, announces that the Lord’s tomb is empty. How do the two apostles react? They get a pep in their step: they race to the tomb to see for themselves. The first effect, therefore, of the resurrection is a zeal and zest for life because death has been destroyed and life continues after the grave. The second effect is the permanent wave of joy in their hearts knowing Jesus is alive. Soon they would see their Savior and Friend. But that permanent wave would have another meaning when Jesus commanded them to wave their hand in blessing and baptizing the whole world in Matthew 28 and the Great Commission. In other words, like the Easter Bunny brought back to life, so the apostles would hop all over the world and wave their hand in blessing over all humanity. When the resurrection becomes really real, it not only changes your life in heaven, it fundamentally changes your life on earth.  The resurrection is a reality for the here-and-now.

My friends, may I suggest three ways the resurrection can become more real for you, changing your earthly life as well as making you look forward to heaven? Firstly, the resurrection helps deal with your own death. This year I will turn fifty years old, and to be honest I have not given much thought to dying. Even though I am a priest and preach about heaven, and frequently do funerals, I tend to forget I will not live forever here on earth. So, when the thought of my own death hits me, like on my fiftieth birthday, I can easily feel gripped by fear and despair. But when the resurrection becomes real to me, I get a pep in my step and feel a permanent wave of joy in my heart. I don’t worry about the day that I will wave “good-bye” to this world, because I have hope that one day I will wave “hello” to everyone again.  The good-bye wave is temporary, the hello wave is permanent.

Secondly, the resurrection becomes real when we deal with the death of those we love. When I go home to visit my parents in Little Rock, they frequently ask me questions about purgatory, about the final judgment, about heaven and even about hell. My parents are not talking theoretically or for some test they are taking in school; it’s not academic. This is something they are facing sooner rather than later, imminently. They want to know what they’ll soon be dealing. So, in a sense, this homily is for them, and all the other people we dearly love and will one day lose. I pray the resurrection becomes really real for them like for the Easter Bunny so that they might have a pep in their step and a permanent wave of joy in their heart.

And thirdly, the reality of the resurrection can help us deal with any loss in this life. How do you deal with the loss of a good job and steady income, or the loss of your health by serious illness, or the loss of your marriage because of divorce, or the gradual loss of your physical appearance, your mental aptitude, your mobility and independence? These things can depress us and make us want to give up on life. But if the resurrection becomes really real in your life, these set backs are seen as merely temporary, and go from being roaring lions to purring kittens. We walk with a new pep in our step and a permanent wave of joy in our hearts. In other words, when the resurrection becomes real for us, it not only changes our life in heaven, it fundamentally changes our life here on earth.

On Easter Sunday the resurrection became real by becoming a historical fact in the life of Jesus Christ. Satan threw his worst at the Savior, especially the crucifixion, but our Lord never lost the pep in his step or the permanent wave of joy in his heart. Why? Because the resurrection was something real for Jesus, not only as something only to hope for in heaven, but as something to light his path on earth. Folks, Jesus’ resurrection is the spray can that reads: “Restores life to the dead, and adds a permanent wave.” And that’s no joke.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Group Greatness

Finding peace, purpose and power in the Church

04/17/2019

Matthew 26:14-25 One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, "What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?" They paid him thirty pieces of silver, and from that time on he looked for an opportunity to hand him over. On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, the disciples approached Jesus and said, "Where do you want us to prepare for you to eat the Passover?" He said, "Go into the city to a certain man and tell him, 'The teacher says, "My appointed time draws near; in your house I shall celebrate the Passover with my disciples."'" The disciples then did as Jesus had ordered, and prepared the Passover. When it was evening, he reclined at table with the Twelve. And while they were eating, he said, "Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me."

Boys and girls, the most important decision you will make in life is what group you should belong to: cheer or dance, football or basketball, quiz bowl or cross country, Trinity or Chaffin, Catholic or Protestant. God made us to be social persons, and therefore, both our earthly happiness and our eternal happiness hinge on our family, on our friends, and on our faith community, the groups we belong to. When we find the right group to be part of, we discover three things: peace, purpose and power, in a word, we find group greatness.

Let me illustrate this by inviting you to think about your own family. Our family of origin – mom, dad and siblings – is our first and fundamental group. Those of you who come from an in-tact, healthy home will feel first of all a deep sense of peace. But those families where divorce or abuse or neglect are common, you may feel a profound lack of peace. Please don’t hear me judging or condemning anyone. We’re all doing the best we can. Nevertheless, I just want you to know where you first find your peace, and maybe where you first don’t feel peace. It’s not your fault, and often comes from circumstances out of your control. But our family is the first fountain from which we drink of peace.

Secondly, we find purpose in our family. Kids in healthy families find their purpose more quickly because they usually do what their mother or father did, becoming a doctor, a lawyer, an architect, a teacher. I am convinced I found my priestly vocation thanks to my fairly healthy family life. By the way, no family is perfect or ideal; every family has skeletons in the closet we try to hide. Still, the more stable the family, the faster you will find your purpose; why you are here, why God made you.

Thirdly, you find power. When the family unit is stable and strong, each member feels a sense of self-confidence, a quiet power that no one can snuff out or steal. You try new sports or band or cheer or dance because you feel the power of self-confidence. You say: “I can do this.” A priest-friend of mine likes to say: “Remember who you are and whose you are.” When we remember whose we are – that we belong to a strong, loving family that always has our back – we are strong; we feel the power of self-confidence.

Whatever group you belong to – like the first group of your family – will give you peace, purpose and power, that is, group greatness. I think this is why gangs are growing in popularity these days. As families struggle to stay together, gangs offer young people what families should but don’t: a group that provides peace, purpose and power. Every gang is a pseudo-family, trying to replace the natural family with an unnatural family. They offer a very unhealthy group greatness.

In the gospel today, Jesus tries to maintain the stability of the supernatural family he came to create, that is, the Church, the greatest group of all. He is at the Last Supper and predicts one of the twelve apostles will betray him. You remember who that was: Judas. We read how Judas plotted his betrayal: “One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, ‘What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?’ They paid him thirty pieces of silver and from that time on he looked for an opportunity to hand him over.” In other words, Judas left the family of faith that Jesus established in order to join the gang of the chief priests and, as a result, he lost all sense of peace, purpose and power Jesus came to give. Do you remember how he died? He hung himself from a tree in despair; he committed suicide: no peace, no purpose and completely powerless.

On the other hand, the apostles who stayed in Jesus’ spiritual family felt profound peace, purpose and power, and changed the face of the earth. They were fearless because they belonged to the spiritual family of faith. So much depends on the group we join and become part of: our natural family of origin, an unnatural family of a gang, or the supernatural family of the Church. You will only be as great as the group you belong to.

Boys and girls, I want you to see Trinity Junior High as an “academic family” that you are part of, a very important group you belong to. As members of our Trinity family, do you help create stability and harmony, like the instruments of a band playing in perfect pitch and rhythm? Or, do you cause division, spread gossip, or undermine your classmates, and disrespect teachers, like Judas did with the spiritual family of the Church? When you fully invest yourself in this school family, you will find peace, purpose and even power. Sometimes even when these is upheaval at home, in your natural family, I hope Trinity can be a place of normalcy and acceptance. At least for eight hours a day, you might feel a little peace, purpose and power here.

Let me leave you with this example from my own life. I attended Catholic High School for Boys in Little Rock – that’s right, no girls allowed, sorry, ladies. In 1985, my sophomore year, Catholic played Fort Smith Northside in the state football championship. Catholic was completely outmanned: the Northside Grizzlies were bigger, faster and more athletic than the smaller Catholic High Rockets. Our student body, after all, was made up of just a bunch of pencil-necked geeks, like me. But we won the state championship that day. Why? Because I believe (with no disrespect) we had a stronger sense of our school family, and we felt profound peace, purpose and power. You will only be as great as the group you belong to, so be sure to choose them wisely.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Be Better Than Me

Seeking the success of our protégés

04/16/2019

John 13:21-33, 36-38 Reclining at table with his disciples, Jesus was deeply troubled and testified, "Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me." The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant. One of his disciples, the one whom Jesus loved, was reclining at Jesus' side. So Simon Peter nodded to him to find out whom he meant. He leaned back against Jesus' chest and said to him, "Master, who is it?" Jesus answered, "It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it." So he dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot. After Judas took the morsel, Satan entered him. So Jesus said to him, "What you are going to do, do quickly." Now none of those reclining at table realized why he said this to him. Some thought that since Judas kept the money bag, Jesus had told him, "Buy what we need for the feast," or to give something to the poor. So Judas took the morsel and left at once. And it was night.

I am a big fan of the actor Denzel Washington. And recently, I love watching Ryan Reynolds, too. So, when I heard they had both starred in a movie called “Safe House,” I knew I would love it and had to see it. The plot revolves around Reynolds, who plays a low-level CIA agent named Matt Watson, guarding a safe house in Cape Town, South Africa. Suddenly, he finds himself saddled with a CIA operative who has betrayed the Agency, played by Denzel Washington, named Tobin Frost. As they run for their lives from both the agency and assassins trying to kill them, Reynolds is manipulated by Denzel and he doesn’t know who to believe: the betrayer or his bosses. In the penultimate scene, Frost is fatally shot and says these profound words to the young Weston. Gasping for air, he whispers: “You know what you are? I know what you are. You’re better than me. Be better than me.” In that unforgettable scene, Tobin both regrets all the mistakes he has made, and he hopes for a better life and career for Weston. Those words touched something very deep in me, and probably in everyone else who watched the movie. Only Denzel can make a bad guy look so good.

In the gospel today, the apostles are wondering what to make of another betrayer they are saddled with, namely, Judas, and whether or not to trust him. There are at least three theories explaining why Judas betrayed Jesus. First, it may have been for money. After all, the Jewish leaders bribe Judas with thirty pieces of silver to hand over the Holy One. Secondly, it may have been because Jesus was not a military Messiah, as Judas and other zealots had hoped. And thirdly, Archbishop Fulton Sheen argued he betrayed Jesus because he did not believe in the Eucharist. At the end of John 6, where Jesus explained the Eucharistic exigency to eat his Body and drink his Blood, we read: “Jesus answered them: ‘Did I not choose you twelve? Yet one of you is a devil?’ He was referring to Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot; it was he who would betray him, one of the Twelve.”

But I would suggest to you, in spite of all the damning evidence, that if there was one thing Judas could have said with his last breath, he would have whispered to the other eleven apostles: “You know what you are? I know what you are. You’re better than me. Be better than me.” Now, I’m not saying that Judas made it to heaven, or even to purgatory. But it is undeniable that the Church as never declared that any one single person by name is in hell. Who is so wise as to know the final state of Judas’ soul as he hung himself from the tree? Is it impossible to imagine that his final thoughts were also regrets for his mistakes (colossal as they were) and hope for a better future for his friends? Maybe if Denzel played Judas he could make that bad guy book pretty good, too.

My friends, let me invite you to meditate and mull over those wise words: “Be better than me.” Anyone who has had progeny (children) or pupils (students) or players (football, basketball, etc.), in a word protégé of any ilk, has felt the force of those words: be better than me. When I think of the many associate priests whom I have had the privilege and pleasure to mentor, all I hope for them is summed up in the words: “Be better than me.” That’s what I hope for Fr. Stephen and what I hoped for Fr. Andrew, Fr. Pius and Fr. Shantiraj and so many others. Those words give me a sense of my own sins, and my hope for a better priesthood for each of them.

Doesn’t every parent feel that desire with their children and grandchildren? My parents made so many sacrifices to come to this country. Why? Wasn’t it also in a sense to give us greater opportunities than they had in terms of college and careers? Behind their many sacrifices, I can hear them whispering: “Be better than me.” Honest and humble parents acknowledge they are not perfect parents, and they hope for a better future for their children.

A couple of weeks ago, Pope Benedict broke his silence and weighed in on the clergy sexual abuse crisis. He had a lot of insightful comments about the crisis. But he also implicitly admitted his pontificate was not perfect, and he wanted something better for Pope Francis and the Church. Among all the other great things the pope emeritus said, I could hear him whispering: “Be better than me.”  Maybe he resigned precisely so a better pope might step forward.

Yesterday, a friend of mine asked me what would be a good quotation from scripture to put on a cemetery headstone. I suggested a couple of verses that came to mind. But maybe on my own headstone, someone could write profound words, “Be better than me.” Maybe that’s what we should write on Judas Iscariot’s grave as well.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Palm Sunday Praises

Desiring God’s approval rather than others’

04/14/2019

Luke 19:28-40 Jesus proceeded on his journey up to Jerusalem. As he drew near to Bethphage and Bethany at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples. He said, "Go into the village opposite you, and as you enter it you will find a colt tethered on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it here. And if anyone should ask you, 'Why are you untying it?'  you will answer, 'The Master has need of it.'" So those who had been sent went off and found everything just as he had told them. And as they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, "Why are you untying this colt?" They answered, "The Master has need of it." So they brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks over the colt,  and helped Jesus to mount. As he rode along, the people were spreading their cloaks on the road; and now as he was approaching the slope of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of his disciples began to praise God aloud with joy for all the mighty deeds they had seen. They proclaimed: "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.Peace in heaven and glory in the highest."

I love Holy Week which starts on Palm Sunday because, in a sense, it’s a real ego trip for us priests. In other words, Holy Week really highlights Holy Orders. On Monday, all the priests gather in the Cathedral for the Chrism Mass. A long line of over 100 priests walk into the church two-by-two and the congregation applauds loudly. It’s good to be me. On Holy Thursday, Jesus instituted both the Eucharist and the Priesthood. Jesus gave to mere men the authority to do what he did at the Last Supper, namely, hold his Body and Blood in our hands. That’s an authority he has not given to angels. At the Easter Vigil we flex our priestly muscles by administering three sacraments on new Catholics: baptism, Confirmation and Communion. Not ever Superman has those superpowers. On Easter Sunday, we receive Easter cards and chocolate eggs and everyone feels good about being Catholic and they tell us how wonderful we are as their priests.

At times like these I recall what Msgr. Hebert once told me. I was his associate at Christ the King in Little Rock and I had delivered a decent homily, and I mentioned how people liked it. He replied: “John, beware when all men speak well of you.” Monsignor always said a lot with a little, a skill I never learned. This past week someone gave me a small pamphlet produced by Chick Publications. It is stinging, anti-Catholic literature that tries to show how Catholics are all wrong and headed to hell, if they don’t leave the Church.

There is this great section on priests, especially on the pope. It says: “Jesus says, ‘many will come in His name, pretending to be Christ. And this is what the popes have done for centuries.” It goes on: “Roman Catholic doctrine claims the priest is so powerful that he can, at his command, call Jesus Christ out of heaven. They say the Creator of all things must obey the wishes of a priest…to humble himself, to become a piece of bread, to be handled by this all-powerful, man-god, the holy priest of Rome.” And finally it states, if you’re able to stomach what it says: “God hates the Roman Catholic mass. Jesus hates this false religious system. It has blasphemed His Holy Name, His Holy Word, and has deceived billions of people.” So, today after Mass, I’ve told the ushers that instead of handing out bulletins, they will give everyone this Chick Publication, so you’ll finally know the truth about the Catholic Church. Just kidding. But my point is this: just when you think all men speak well of you, you see that all men do not speak well of you.

My experience as a priest this Holy Week was certainly similar to that of the First Priest, Jesus, that first Holy Week. Jesus is praised by the crowds as he rides triumphantly into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. The applause must have sounded a lot like the congregation in the Cathedral clapping for us clergy walking into the Chrism Mass. However, Jesus must have thought of Msgr. Hebert’s words as the people’s praises rang in his ears, “Beware when all men speak well of you.” Why did Jesus think of those words? Well, because Jesus had uttered those words long before the good monsignor had, during his Sermon on the Plain, in Luke 6:26. Those were Jesus’ words originally. In other words, people’s praises are about as profound as the compliments we pile on a Thanksgiving turkey when we say how big and beautiful it look on Sunday, but on Thursday we carve it up and eat it for Thanksgiving supper. The praise of Palm Sunday, therefore, eventually eroded into the exclamations of execution of Good Friday, when the people demand: “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Just when you think all men speak well of you, you realize that all men do not speak well of you.

My friends, you probably know that the shifting sands of public opinion are not saved solely for Catholic priests. Sometimes, you will win the approval and applause of people, and at other times you will be the object of their opprobrium, their displeasure and their hate. You may not be the topic of the next Chick Publication, but you may be the topic of office water-cooler conversation, the butt of jokes at a party, or the fodder for family gossip. Don’t be like me, and get an ego trip when people praise you, and then feel crushed when they complain about you. Rather, be like Jesus. Here are two ways you can be more like Christ in the face of people’s opinions.  First of all, beware when all men speak well of you. Why? Well, because they probably won’t speak well about you for very long before they find something to criticize. That is, do not put any stock in their opinion at all. And secondly, learn to love only what God may think of you. God’s opinion of us never changes. He always loves us, like a father loves a son; no, better, as a grandmother loves her grandchildren. That’s how God loves us; that’s what God thinks of us.

I cannot wait to walk into the Cathedral for the Chrism Mass on Monday evening, and hear the cheers of the congregation who genuinely love their priests. But in the back of my mind will be Monsignor Hebert’s little voice, quietly reminding me, “They are probably praising you like they praise their annual Thanksgiving turkey.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Limited Access

Opening the doors of our hearts to others

04/12/2019

John 10:31-42 The Jews picked up rocks to stone Jesus. Jesus answered them, "I have shown you many good works from my Father. For which of these are you trying to stone me?" The Jews answered him, "We are not stoning you for a good work but for blasphemy. You, a man, are making yourself God." Jesus answered them, "Is it not written in your law, 'I said, 'You are gods"'?  If it calls them gods to whom the word of God came, and Scripture cannot be set aside, can you say that the one whom the Father has consecrated and sent into the world blasphemes because I said, 'I am the Son of God'? If I do not perform my Father's works, do not believe me; but if I perform them, even if you do not believe me, believe the works, so that you may realize and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father." Then they tried again to arrest him; but he escaped from their power. He went back across the Jordan to the place where John first baptized, and there he remained. Many came to him and said, "John performed no sign,but everything John said about this man was true." And many there began to believe in him.

I have never been to Jerusalem or the Holy Land. After my father returned from a pilgrimage there, he exclaimed, “It’s like no place on earth.” Apparently, he had a good trip. One of the first things you notice when you get to Jerusalem is that access to the Temple Mount is very limited. You cannot just waltz up to the Temple (what’s left of it), open the door and walk in. There are actually eleven gates that provide access to the Temple Mount area, but you and I can only use one of the eleven gates. Why? Because we are not Muslim. That one gate open to everyone is called the “Mughrabi Gate,” or the “Gate of the Moors.” But Muslims can enter the Temple Mount area through all eleven gates. Those other ten gates are called “Gate of the Tribes,” “Gate of Remission,” “Gate of Darkness,” “Gate of Bani Ghanim,” “Gate of the Palace,” “Council Gate,” “Iron Gate,” “Cotton Merchant’s Gate,” “Ablution Gate,” “Tranquility Gate,” and “Chain Gate.”

Now, this limited access to the Temple Mount should not shock us because we also have gates and doors that limit access to our own church. Do you know how many gates or doors there are into Immaculate Conception Church? There are five gates or doors: the “North Entry Gate,” the “Garrison Avenue Gate,” the “Rogers Gate,” the “Sacristy Gate,” and the very little known, “Cry Room Gate.” Actually, the cry room is ironically named because there are never any crying babies in there, and it’s a great place to sleep. But just like Jerusalem’s Temple Mount, we, too, control access into this sacred space by locking the doors at night. Many years ago church doors were never locked and people of any faith (or no faith) could come and go as they pleased to worship God. It’s kind of sad, isn’t it, that whether you go to the Holy Land or to your “local holy land” of your parish church, access is limited.

In the gospel today, Jesus talks about free and open access not so much to the Temple Mount, but to himself, who he has already described as the new Temple. If you go back and read the whole of John chapter 10 (today’s gospel is only the last part), you see Jesus has a long explanation about gates, and how he is the true gate. In John 10:7, Jesus said, “Amen, amen, I say to you, I am the gate for the sheep…Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.” And what do we see happening at the end of John 10? We read: “Many came to him and said, ‘John performed no sign, but everything John said about this man was true.’ And many there began to believe in him.” In other words, access to the true Temple, which is Jesus, is easy and open. The gates are never locked; you do not need a passport; you do not need a special key. You just need a little faith, love and humility.

May I suggest three other gates, where we may struggle to open and allow greater access to others? The first is the gate to our own hearts. Sometimes when someone hurts us, we slam that door closed and lock it up tight, because we do not want someone else to get inside the gate and hurt us again. Several years ago, a dear priest-friend of mine committed suicide. In his note he wrote: “I did not feel as if anyone loved me.” The sad reality was that many people loved him, but he had locked the gate of his heart from the inside and would not allow anyone to love him. He allowed very limited access.

The second gate is that to our nation and access for immigrants to enter the United States. I bet that comment woke everyone up! You know by now that this priest is not into peddling politics from the pulpit. I believe there are good and reasonable arguments on both sides of the border-control and immigration issue. Good Catholics can disagree on the best way to deal with the growing crisis. The real challenge is to be a welcoming country but also controlling our borders. We shouldn’t just lock the gate and throw away the key. A great little book that balances these two principles is John F. Kennedy’s Nation of Immigrants. I highly recommend you read it. After all, if we had barred the doors, my family might not have come to the United States.

And the third gate is the one we will all have to stand before one day, namely, the gate of heaven. And I believe that gate will only open as wide to us as we have opened wide the gates in our lives to others. Fortunately for us, Jesus is the Gate of Paradise, and all you need to enter is a little faith, love and humility.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

World War III

Joining Jesus rather than trying to beat him

04/10/2019

John 8:31-42 Jesus said to those Jews who believed in him, "If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." They answered him, "We are descendants of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How can you say, 'You will become free'?" Jesus answered them, "Amen, amen, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin. A slave does not remain in a household forever, but a son always remains. So if the Son frees you, then you will truly be free. I know that you are descendants of Abraham. But you are trying to kill me, because my word has no room among you. I tell you what I have seen in the Father's presence; then do what you have heard from the Father." They answered and said to him, "Our father is Abraham." Jesus said to them, "If you were Abraham's children, you would be doing the works of Abraham. But now you are trying to kill me, a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God; Abraham did not do this.

There’s a popular little proverb that teaches: “If you can’t beat them, join them.” Have you heard that before? Perhaps you have even used that proverb yourself. Maybe that is the reason Kevin Durant, an NBA basketball superstar, left the Oklahoma City Thunder and joined the Golden State Warriors; that, and for millions of more dollars. Since he couldn’t beat the Warriors in basketball, he joined their team. This same proverb lies behind political alliances forged through the marriage of monarchs over the course of history. If you cannot defeat your enemy, just marry your enemy; if you cannot beat them on the battlefield, join them in marriage at the altar.

One of the most famous attempted political marriages was that between Queen Elizabeth I of England and Archduke Charles of the Hapsburg Dynasty in Austria in 1559. Ultimately, that attempted marriage did not materialize because Elizabeth was a staunch Anglican Protestant, while Charles was a devout Roman Catholic. In hindsight perhaps history will judge that failed engagement a great tragedy. Why? Well, because roughly four hundred years later another Austrian Archduke, Franz Ferdinand, would be assassinated in 1914, igniting the first World War, bringing Austria and England (among many others), into direct conflict, the so-called “war to end all wars.” So, the little proverb works in both directions: if you can’t beat them, join them, like KD did. On the other hand, if you can’t join them, try to beat them, like England and Austria did.

In the gospel today, we see Jesus’ relationship with the Jewish leaders rising to a fever pitch. Jesus explains to them that they can either try to beat him, or join him. But Jesus knows only too well what option they will choose, namely, try to beat him. Jesus predicts: “I know you are descendants of Abraham. But you are trying to kill me, because my word has no room among you.” In the first reading from Daniel, King Nebuchadneezar tried to deal with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the same way, that is, try to kill them in the fiery furnace. In other words, like Austria and England over the centuries, so too in the scriptures, if you can’t beat them join them, or the reverse, if you can’t join them, beat them. Indeed, Jesus came to invite the Jews to form the cornerstone of the Church, which would be his Bride, so that they might be joined together in eternal ecstasy forever. But like Charles of Austria and Elizabeth of England went to war instead of wed in marriage, so the Jews tried to kill Jesus.

My friends, I think the practical upshot of today’s scriptures is pretty obvious: how do we deal with our enemies? I don’t mean we have to marry everyone we disagree with. But can we at least try to respect them and love them a little more? I am always shocked when I hear of divorced couples who continue to maintain good communication and be cordial for the sake of their children. Most of the time, of course, when a marriage fails, couples become bitter enemies like Austria and England during World War I. A divorce feels like World War III.

Last night, I attended the soccer match between Northside and Southside, bitter cross-town rivals. It was a tough fought match, and Northside scored the only goal to win in the last two minutes. At one point, a Southside player was injured and couldn’t get up to walk. So, a Northside player actually scooped him up in his arms, and literally carried him to the sideline, like a groom carries his bride across the threshold of their new home. The whole crowd cheered wildly when they saw a beautiful and touching example of “if you can’t beat them, join them,” although Northside did beat them. I am praying for England as they vote again on their Brexit policy, that they figure out the best way to relate to the European Union, which includes Austria. That’s a relationship they have been trying to figure out for a long, long time.

The saying “if you can’t beat them, join them” is a little proverb packed with a lot of practical wisdom. It can teach us not only the best way to relate with one another, but also the best way to relate to God.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Supremes

Learning the inherent weaknesses in human justice

04/08/2019

John 8:12-20 Jesus spoke to them again, saying, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." So the Pharisees said to him, "You testify on your own behalf, so your testimony cannot be verified." Jesus answered and said to them, "Even if I do testify on my own behalf, my testimony can be verified, because I know where I came from and where I am going. But you do not know where I come from or where I am going. You judge by appearances, but I do not judge anyone. And even if I should judge, my judgment is valid, because I am not alone, but it is I and the Father who sent me. Even in your law it is written that the testimony of two men can be verified. I testify on my behalf and so does the Father who sent me." So they said to him, "Where is your father?" Jesus answered, "You know neither me nor my Father. If you knew me, you would know my Father also." He spoke these words while teaching in the treasury in the temple area. But no one arrested him, because his hour had not yet come.

There is an inherent weakness in all systems of human justice, namely, that people can and do lie. I’ll never forget a priest from Brooklyn who taught us in the seminary. He said that when young couples come in for marriage preparation and you ask them if they are living together, he said: “They lie, they lie, they lie.” Apparently, they lie a lot more in Brooklyn than in Fort Smith – no one lies here. And that’s why he said you must question them separately, so they cannot just agree with what the other person says. Meghan Trainor sang about her unfaithful boyfriend the same thing: “I know you lie / ‘Cause your lips are moving / Tell me do you think I’m dumb? I might be young, but I ain’t stupid / Talking round in circles with your tongue.” It’s too easy to lie to get out of trouble.

Even when people are being genuine how can you be sure they are being just? Take the highest court of justice in the United States, the Supreme Court. Today there seem to be enough “Supremes” (the common term for the justices) on the SCOTUS to possibly overturn Roe versus Wade, the 1973 decision that allowed abortions. And that would be wonderful. But what’s to keep a future U.S. president (the POTUS) from appointing other supremes who have a different view of so-called “abortion rights” who might resurrect Roe versus Wade? In other words, there is no fool-proof way to ensure that true justice will be served when human beings must be the arbiters of that justice. At the very height of human justice, therefore, we always seem to fall short of true justice. Why? Because “they lie, they lie, they lie.”

Today we read from John chapter 8 and, in a sense, Jesus complements and completes what he said in John chapter 5. You will remember in chapter 5 Jesus talked about the value of witnesses who could give testimony to his true mission as the Messiah. In chapter 8, however, we see that not only is human testimony weak and ineffective, but it is always liable to lying. That is, you cannot trust it. John 8 begins with the woman caught in adultery and the Pharisees asking Jesus if they should stone her. But he points out the inherent weakness of human justice by saying: “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” In other words, slow down cowboy, and realize that human justice always falls short of true justice.

The first reading from Daniel 13, where Suzanna is falsely accused of adultery, also highlights the inherent weakness of human justice that relies on human testimony, namely, “they lie, they lie, they lie.” These episodes are all previews of coming attractions setting-up Jesus’ own trial before Pontius Pilate and the Sanhedrin, where false witnesses and even Jewish leaders will accuse Jesus of things he has not said or done. That’s why Jesus will conclude: “I testify on my own behalf, and so does the Father who sent me.” In other words, I know I will not be judged justly on earth, but only in heaven, where my Father will vindicate me. At the very heights of human justice we always fall short of true justice. The scales of justice will only be balanced in heaven.

Let me suggest two quick take-aways from our scriptures today. First, be careful about how you judge others. We tend to think our own assessment of others is accurate, but we miss our own biases and prejudices. I studied the Supreme Court decision on religious liberty while in canon law school, and even the justices with whom I disagreed had better reasons for their opinions than I had for mine. I have a profound respect for all the supremes. They are brilliant jurists. There is a very instructive exchange in the Lord of the Rings where Frodo regrets that his uncle Bilbo did not kill Gollum when he had the chance. But Gandalf rebukes him saying: “Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment.” That is, hobbit justice, like human justice, is never perfect. Be suspicious therefore of your own sense of justice and fairness.

Secondly, some wrongs we endure on earth will have to wait till heaven to be vindicated. We all feel that in one way or another we have been injured by others. So, what do we do? We want to lawyer up, take them to court, and sue the pants off them. But sometimes we don’t get any justice (or maybe revenge?). Some people look at the annulment process as a chance to restore justice because of injuries one or the other party suffered. But they don’t get it, because they don’t get it. That’s not what annulments are for. Only in heaven will the scales of justice finally be balanced.

Every human system of justice is inherently weak and fallible. Why? Because like the priest from Brooklyn and Meghan Trainor said, “they lie, they lie, they lie.” True justice will have to wait till heaven when we stand before the One who is Truth himself, and no one will lie then. In the meantime, we might want to work on mercy more than justice.

Praised be Jesus Christ!