Flood Letter

Flexing our muscles of love like Mother Mary

05/31/2019

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

This morning I would like to share with you a letter I wrote on the occasion of the great Flood of 2019. It seems highly apropos to date it today, May 31st, the great Marian feast of the Visitation. Why? Well, Mother Mary, as she visits and aids her cousin Elizabeth in need, seems to symbolize every virtue we need to help our neighbors in need as we face this flood. Above all her other strengths, I believe, stands Mary’s chief virtue, namely, love. Love for those in need is Mary’s “mightiest muscle” you might say.

We see her flexing that muscle not only on the feast of the Visitation, but also at the wedding in Cana, as well as in her response to the angel at the Annunciation, and as she stood at the foot of the Cross of Christ, and finally on Pentecost, the birthday of the Church. In each and every instance, Mary was aware of others in need and she did not hesitate to hurry and help them. At the Visitation, elderly Elizabeth was in need, at the wedding in Cana the poor couple who ran out of wine was in need, at the Annunciation all humanity was in need of a Savior, at the Crucifixion the Beloved Disciple was in need, and Jesus gave his Mother to help him in that dark hour, and at Pentecost the apostles needed Mary to teach them how to receive the Holy Spirit. Likewise, Jesus gives his Mother Mary to us in this dark hour of the Flood of 2019 to strengthen us with her love. Mary shows us how to love one another, and flex our own muscles of love.

May 31, 2019, Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Dear Immaculate Conception Family,

It’s hard to find the right words adequately to describe Mother Nature’s mighty muscles as she flexed them in the Flood of 2019. I felt very small and vulnerable as I hurried over the I-540 bridge on Monday night, shortly before it was closed. Every now and then – fortunately, not too often – humanity is humbled in the face of the fearsome forces of nature.

It is no less inspiring and hard to describe how our Fort Smith and Van Buren communities have come together to meet this disaster. Mayor George McGill said that it will not be this flood that defines us but rather how we respond to it. And I have seen heroic and even holy responses. Neighbors have rescued valuables from each other’s homes, strangers have filled and piled sandbags, people have opened their homes to others to live in, and companies and churches have fed the multitudes like Jesus fed the thousands with a few loaves and fish. Nature’s raw power has been met and matched by the real power of brotherly and sisterly love.

Many parishioners have asked what our response will be as a Catholic community of faith to this crisis. Here are seven things we can do. First of all, we will pray and beseech God’s blessing on all who are affected. Prayer is an act of faith in God’s love and providence, because all creation is in God’s hands, including the Arkansas River. Secondly, I urge you to help those closest to you: neighbors, friends, family and parishioners. It is not by accident you live where you live: bloom where you are planted. Third, help the local agencies that are the best equipped to deliver the assistance, like the Riverview Hope Campus, Salvation Army, the Red Cross, the Clothes Closet, etc. You can help by volunteering or by donating directly to these agencies.

Fourth, we will partner with OK Foods and area churches to provide lunches for the foreseeable future. I.C. parishioners are asked to purchase gallon-sized containers of vegetables and deliver them to the Sears building between 8:00 am and 6:00 pm. The meals will be served at other churches. Fifth, this weekend, we will take up a second collection for disaster relief. Half of that collection will be used to benefit I.C. parishioners in need from the flooding, and the other half will be distributed to local agencies to bolster their efforts. Sixth, please take care to share accurate information, not hear-say or half-truths. The rumor mill loves to churn in the wake of disasters, causing further confusion and prolonging the pain. Remember the old adage: “loose lips sink ships.” And seventh, bear in mind that recovery from this flood will take months, maybe years, before we return to normal. So, pace yourself as you render assistance. We just started a marathon, not a hundred-yard dash.

My parents taught me that being a family means we share everything together: the good, the bad and the ugly. Our community – Catholic and beyond – has enjoyed great times together, and we will again. Today, it is time to share the sorrows.

God bless, Fr. John K. Antony

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Final Flavor

Desiring the Eucharist as food for the journey

05/30/2019

John 16:16-20 Jesus said to his disciples: "A little while and you will no longer see me, and again a little while later and you will see me." So some of his disciples said to one another, "What does this mean that he is saying to us, 'A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me,' and 'Because I am going to the Father'?" So they said, "What is this 'little while' of which he speaks? We do not know what he means." Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him, so he said to them, "Are you discussing with one another what I said, 'A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me'? Amen, amen, I say to you, you will weep and mourn, while the world rejoices; you will grieve, but your grief will become joy."

Have you ever given much thought to how you want to leave this world? Or, as I like to say, “What is your exit strategy from earth?” I think that is worth a minute or two of meditation. Some people talk about their “bucket list” of places to go, people to see, and activities to accomplish. Prisoners on death row are allowed to request any meal their heart desires as their last meal and the prison chef will prepare it for them. For example, Timothy McVeigh, the terrorist responsible for the Oklahoma City bombing, requested two pints of mint chocolate chip ice cream as his last meal.

Yesterday my parents shared with me they did not want to end up in hospice care as their exit strategy from earth. I was surprised and I asked why. My mother (who is a registered nurse) explained that while hospice care is effective in eliminating pain and discomfort, it also often requires heavy sedation, so the person is virtually unconscious and uncommunicative. But both my mom and dad insisted they want to be able to see, hear and talk with visitors. And they especially want to see, hear and talk with the priest who gives them Last Rites. My mom was adamant about going to confession, being anointed, and receiving Communion, called “Viaticum,” when that occurs shortly before death. In other words, my mom and dad’s last meal would not be mint chocolate chip ice cream but the Sacred Host of Holy Communion. I am in awe of my parents, who grasp the grace of the moment of death with an instinctive faith that is far better than this priest who’s been ordained twenty-three years with multiple theology degrees. My last meal might be a stiff shot of scotch, maybe a smooth MacAllen 18.

Jesus shares his exit strategy from this earth with his apostles in very cryptic language. He says: “A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me.” In other words, he’s talking about his death (when they won’t see him), and his subsequent resurrection (when they will see him again). But the disciples were uncomprehending. They were not ready to hear about Jesus’ exit strategy just like I was not ready to hear about my parents’ wishes at the end of life, and maybe as some of you are not ready to hear about death and dying in a homily. Nevertheless, it is worth a moment or more of meditation. And do you recall what Jesus’ heart desired as his last meal before he would be executed as a common criminal? It was not mint chocolate chip ice cream, or even an 18 year old scotch. Rather it was the bread and wine of the Eucharist, just like my parents wanted. In a sense, Jesus also declined any palliative care as he approached his death, so he could see and hear and talk with those around him. Jesus received no comfort care during his crucifixion.

My friends, have you given much thought to how you will leave this world, your exit strategy? Of course it’s fine to check off items on your bucket list and to plan your final gourmet meal and make arrangements regarding what kind of care you want at the end of life. But also give a little time and attention to the state of your soul at the moment of departure. Will you have made peace with your enemies? Before you die you should forgive those who have hurt you, and if possible, ask forgiveness from those whom you have hurt. Jesus forgave those who crucified him and also the Good Thief.

Make sure a priest is present to give you the Anointing of the Sick, hear your confession, and place the Communion Host (Viaticum) on your tongue. By the way, the last thing Jesus tasted on the Cross was sour wine, which was actually the conclusion of the Passover Meal he had begun in the Upper Room with his disciples. The Last Supper was stretched out from Thursday evening till Friday afternoon, and that supper ended as the sacrifice of the Cross. That is why the Mass is called both a supper and a sacrifice. In other words, the final flavor on Jesus’ tongue was the Eucharist. Viaticum literally means “something for the journey.” Fr. Stephen and I take Communion to our homebound parishioners at least once a month. We are helping them with their exit strategy, which should always include the Eucharist.

How do you want to leave this world: in a blaze of glory, asleep in your bed, or with the taste of mint chocolate chip ice cream? On the other hand, maybe your last meal should be the Eucharist, which was the heart’s desire of my parents and of Jesus.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Overconfidence

Putting all our confidence and competence in Christ

05/29/2019

Acts of the Apostles 17:15, 22—18:1 After Paul's escorts had taken him to Athens, they came away with instructions for Silas and Timothy to join him as soon as possible. Then Paul stood up at the Areopagus and said: "You Athenians, I see that in every respect you are very religious. For as I walked around looking carefully at your shrines, I even discovered an altar inscribed, 'To an Unknown God.' What therefore you unknowingly worship, I proclaim to you. God has overlooked the times of ignorance, but now he demands that all people everywhere repent because he has established a day on which he will 'judge the world with justice' through a man he has appointed, and he has provided confirmation for all by raising him from the dead." When they heard about resurrection of the dead, some began to scoff, but others said, "We should like to hear you on this some other time." And so Paul left them. But some did join him, and became believers. Among them were Dionysius, a member of the Court of the Areopagus, a woman named Damaris, and others with them. After this he left Athens and went to Corinth.

Currently, I am listening to a series of lectures on the Gospel of St. Mark by Dc. Scott Hahn, who teaches at Franciscan University of Steubenville, Ohio. He used a catchy phrase that hit me like a two-by-four between the eyes. He said, “Sometimes our confidence gets ahead of our competence.” That is, we are overconfident and under-competent, in a word, we lack humility. His point was that we can only comprehend the gospel and the greatness of St. Mark if we humbly acknowledge our ignorance: how much we do not know. Only the child-like, those who know they know nothing, can be docile and thereby become disciples. I can easily think of tons of times in the past as a priest I have been overconfident and under-competent, and things did not turn out too well for me or others. That phrase could be my life motto. I’m learning very slowly that humility is the key that unlocks the secrets of holy scripture as well as healthy spirituality.

In Acts 17, St. Paul delivers one of his most famous speeches, in Athens, Greece, at the Areopagus, an ancient court for trying serious cases, like homicide, it might be likened to the U.S. Supreme Court. Paul’s preaching is replete with scripture and spirituality, but the Athenians were replete with confidence rather than competence. After he finishes speaking, we read: “When they heard about the resurrection of the dead, some began to scoff, but other said, ‘we should like to hear you on this matter some other time’.” That would be like being at a party and someone brings up a boring subject or a politically-incorrect topic and you look at your watch and say: “Oh, look at the time, I gotta go!”

But not everyone bolted. One man had humility – we might say a little healthy under-confidence – a man named Dionysius, a judge at that Court of the Areopagus. He listened attentively, like a docile child, and became a disciple. He would be converted to Christ, and then bishop of Athens, and then even a martyr for the faith, all because he was not overconfident and under-competent.

Today is the feast day of a recently canonized saint, someone whom many of you old-timers will have known personally, Pope St. Paul VI. He was pope from 1963 until 1978, and held steady the helm of the bark of St. Peter during one of the most turbulent times of Church history: the sexual revolution and implementing the revolutionary changes of the Second Vatican Council. Some Catholics hailed him as a hero, while others criticized him as a criminal. The divisions that have erupted in the Church during that time were deep and have yet to heal. The pope-saint was born with the name “Giovanni Battista Enrico Antonio Maria Montini,” but upon election as the successor of St. Peter took the name of “St. Paul,” to be like the Apostles to the Gentiles at the Areopagus and preach powerfully. But I believe Pope Saint Paul VI was also like Dionysius the Areopagite because he did not let his confidence run ahead of his competence. He was humble, and therefore, he could be docile and a true disciple.

Let me mention three accomplishments that highlight his humility, and really speak about his competence rather than his confidence. First, he faithfully concluded the Council that Pope St. John XXIII had opened. And he dutifully implemented all the changes the council fathers had proposed. His confidence was in Christ, the Head of the Church, rather than place too much trust in his own competence. Secondly, he issued the encyclical Humanae vitae (On Human Life), which reaffirmed the Church’s teaching on the immorality of contraception. Again, another highly controversial and criticized teaching, especially from the West, and in particular from the United States. But the pope’s confidence was in Christ, not his own personal competence. Curiously, one of the archbishops who advised the pope on Humanae vitae was this obscure prelate from Poland, named Karol Woytila, who would later become Pope Saint John Paul II. And thirdly, Pope Paul reaffirmed the Church’s discipline of priestly celibacy as normative for Catholic clergy. Nonetheless, he also generously granted dispensations from celibacy for priests who left the ministry.

In short, Paul VI was not a pope who suffered from overconfidence and under-competence. Why? Well, because he put all his confidence and even all his competence in Jesus Christ. And so should we.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Mother Nature

Learning to love God through natural disasters

05/28/2019

Acts of the apostles 16:22-34 About midnight, while Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God as the prisoners listened, there was suddenly such a severe earthquake that the foundations of the jail shook; all the doors flew open, and the chains of all were pulled loose. When the jailer woke up and saw the prison doors wide open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, thinking that the prisoners had escaped. But Paul shouted out in a loud voice, "Do no harm to yourself; we are all here." He asked for a light and rushed in and, trembling with fear, he fell down before Paul and Silas. Then he brought them out and said, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" And they said, "Believe in the Lord Jesus and you and your household will be saved." So they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to everyone in his house. He took them in at that hour of the night and bathed their wounds; then he and all his family were baptized at once. He brought them up into his house and provided a meal and with his household rejoiced at having come to faith in God.

As you all know, Mother Nature has not been kind to her children in Fort Smith lately. As a consequence of severe and repeated thunderstorms and rainfall in Kansas and Oklahoma, we’ve experienced unprecedented flooding along the banks of the Arkansas River. Last night the news reported that the river would reach a historically high crest of 42.5 feet by Wednesday, when, by the way, another thunderstorm is forecast to arrive. Now, I believe Nature is not only a good mother, she is also a wise teacher. Medieval theologians were convinced the study of the natural order of nature (philosophy) was absolutely necessary to understand the supernatural order of grace (theology). Hence, they coined the axiom: “philosophy is the handmaiden to theology.” That is, Mother Nature is the handmaiden who predisposes us to open our minds to God the Father.

That reminds me of chapter 119 of Herman Melville’s classic novel called Moby Dick, which some regard as the most boring book ever written. Chapter 119 is called “The Candles,” and mad Captain Ahab steers his ship, the Pequod, into a terrifying typhoon on the Japanese Sea. The first mate, Starbuck, interprets this storm as a sign from Mother Nature to abandon the quest to kill the white whale Moby Dick. He cries at his captain: “No, Ahab, turn the ship around or we sail to our death!...God is against you, Ahab! This voyage is doomed. It was doomed from the start. Let’s get out of here while there is still hope.” Starbuck was listening and learning philosophy from Mother Nature, the handmaiden who was opening his mind to theology, that is, God’s will and his wonders. But not Ahab. Mother Nature is a mighty teacher, but not all her children learn her lessons.

In Acts 16, Paul and Silas sing songs in jail and listen and learn to love God while being taught by Mother Nature. A terrifying earthquake breaks the bars of their prison cell, as well as their chains, leaving them free. But they do not leave. Why? Well, they know that the natural order serves the purposes of the supernatural order, philosophy is the handmaiden to theology. When the poor jailer who was supposed to guard the prisoners sees the mighty portent, he despairs and intends to kill himself. The jailer evidently had not been studying his medieval textbooks and did not know how Mother Nature always teaches us to love our Father God. So, St. Paul says: “Do no harm to yourself; we are all here.” Then he teaches the jailer about Jesus and he and his whole household are baptized that very night. In other words, the natural order, even through storms and floods and earthquakes, should awaken faith in the supernatural order of grace and salvation and sacraments. That is the fundamental lesson of Mother Nature, the faithful and holy handmaiden to theology.

May I share with you how some Fort Smith Catholics are learning the lessons that Mother Nature is teaching today? Here are a few texts I’ve received over the past several days from a neighborhood that calls itself “Catholic Cove” (which is really Canterbury Cove) because of the large number of Catholic households. Eileen Teagle opened up their warehouse to let neighbors store furniture there. She said: “Those who were on dryer ground came running to our door to help us pack and have been invaluable. Bo Hunter borrowed a flatbed boat so that he can ferry back and forth to their house with the Hadleys. We now call him Captain Bo.” I think they should have called him Captain Ahab. Wendy Hindley shared: “It was amazing to see the community pull together all over from all different places, backgrounds, work-forces, religions to become one helping hand.” Janice Keating texted: “I am very blessed. I keep going over one of your recent homilies in my head, reminding myself this is only my ‘earthly home’.” Phillip Stevens sent me a picture of a statue of Mother Mary in front of a wall of sandbags in front of their home. Mother Nature has not only unleashed an outpouring of rain and river water, but also an outpouring of faith, hope and love.

That is what she always does, this great handmaiden of theology, if we are humble and holy enough to learn her lessons. And that, by the way, is also why everyone should read Moby Dick.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Just War

Honoring those who paid the full price for freedom

5/27/2019

Acts of the Apostles 16:11-15 We set sail from Troas, making a straight run for samothrace, and on the next day to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi, a leading city in that district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We spent some time in that city. On the sabbath we went outside the city gate along the river where we thought there would be a place of prayer. We sat and spoke with the women who had gathered there. One of them, a woman named Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth, from the city of Thyatira, a worshiper of God, listened, and the Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what Paul was saying. After she and her household had been baptized, she offered us an invitation, "If you consider me a believer in the Lord, come and stay at my home," and she prevailed on us.

On this Memorial day, I would like to say a word about war, namely, that there is such a thing as a “just war.” We certainly hope and pray there will never be another war. I am especially and eagerly praying for that because my nephew, Isaac, is at West Point and he may be deployed if there is another war. Pacifists argue that no circumstances can justify pulling the trigger and going to war. Again, we hope and pray that is the case. But listen to the words of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 2265, from the section called “legitimate defense.” We read: “Those who legitimately hold authority also have the right to use arms to repel aggressors against the civil community entrusted to their responsibility.” In other words, under the right conditions a nation can declare war and take up arms against an aggressor. We can certainly debate whether every war our country has waged was a just war. But my point is only that a just war is possible, and some past conflicts may have been just.

Additionally, we should not blame the veterans of wars for the decisions of politicians who declared those wars. Who can forget the shameful and vile treatment of Vietnam veterans when they returned home? Again, now that I have a nephew in West Point, I pray politicians do their homework, not only political homework but also moral homework, before they pull the trigger and wage another war. Today, we want to honor the memories of those who died in all wars that our country has waged – whether just or unjust. The debate about whether a given war was just is a healthy one. But there should be no debate about whether we should honor those who died in battle.

Sometimes the whole Christian enterprise can be described as waging a just war. In this case, however, the enemy is not a foreign power but sin and Satan. Indeed, the Church as she exists on earth is traditionally called the “Church Militant,” that is, a military on a mission to establish the Kingdom of God on earth by defeating our enemies. This is what motivates St. Paul to undertake his great missionary journeys in spreading the gospel. Like a brave soldier sent to far away foreign lands, encountering sometimes foes and sometimes friends – like Lydia the purpler today in Philippi – Paul is ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for Jesus, his commander and chief. Paul will die in the foreign land of Rome, Italy, beheaded for his belief in his mission. The Catholic church also venerates the memories of brave soldiers who died in the Lord’s military service. We do so by calling them saints, and designating a day in their memory. Every saint’s feast day is his or her “memorial day” because they fought in the most just of all wars, the spiritual battle.

It may be helpful to see our own journey of faith through the lens of a just war. I often describe the Catholic hierarchy of deacon, priest, monsignor, bishop, archbishop, cardinal and pope as the chain of command of the Catholic clergy. The bishop tells me what to do, and I tell the deacon what to do, and the deacons obeys, most of the time. In fact, I have been sent to St. Joseph in Fayetteville two times, and I jokingly say: “That was my second tour in Fayette-nam.” Just like St. Paul was sent on his missionary journeys and never stayed long in one location, so priests like Fr. Stephen are moved from one parish to another because it necessary for the war effort. Pocahontas may feel like going to a foreign country for him, where I’m sure he’ll make many good friends, like Lydia the purpler.

Another sense in which we can see our Christianity as a just war is remembering who the enemy is, namely, sin and Satan. It can be very tempting to paint other people as the enemies of my health and happiness. The democrats are the enemy, the Muslims are the enemy, the illegal immigrants are the enemy, the bishop is the enemy, my spouse is the enemy, and maybe even Fr. John is the enemy. When we do that we take our eyes of the true threat to Christianity and the Church (and ourselves), that is, sin and Satan. Satan is a fallen angel, who also commands legions of soldiers ready to do battle to the last angel standing. The spiritual battle is the most “just war” of all, and there should be no debate about that, and we should all be ready to pull the trigger.

On this Memorial Day, do something to honor the memories of those who died for our freedoms. Say a rosary for them, visit the National Cemetery, or read about the just war theory. But don’t forget that you, too, are a solider in the Lord’s Army, the Church Militant, and you, too, must take up arms against foreign aggressors.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Win the Crowd

Seeing how clergy and congregation listen to Holy Spirit

05/25/2019

Acts of the Apostles 16:1-10 Paul reached also Derbe and Lystra where there was a disciple named Timothy, the son of a Jewish woman who was a believer, but his father was a Greek. The brothers in Lystra and Iconium spoke highly of him, and Paul wanted him to come along with him. On account of the Jews of that region, Paul had him circumcised, for they all knew that his father was a Greek. As they traveled from city to city, they handed on to the people for observance the decisions reached by the Apostles and presbyters in Jerusalem. Day after day the churches grew stronger in faith and increased in number.

Today, May 25th, is the twenty-third anniversary of my priestly ordination. I was ordained on the same week that our beloved former pastor, Msgr. William Galvin, died in 1996. I could not have have dreamed back then I would take his place as the pastor of this great church and this great congregation. Let me invite you to reflect briefly with me on one point in the ordination rite of a priest.

Before the bishop delivers his homily, the vocation director presents the candidate for orders. He says: “Most Reverend Father, holy mother Church asks you to ordain this man, our brother, for service as priest.” The bishop asks: “Do you judge him to be worthy?” Then the vocation director relies not only on his own judgment, but also on that of the people of God, answering: “After inquiry among the people of Christ, and upon recommendation of those concerned with his training, I testify that he has been found worthy.” The bishop responds: “We rely on the help of the Lord God and our Savior Jesus Christ, and we choose this man, our brother, for priesthood in the presbyteral order.” And then the crowd goes wild with applause.

I remember at my ordination the crowd clapped for so long at that point, that Bishop McDonald had to ask them to stop so we could continue. That reminds me of the advice of the retired gladiator to Russell Crowe in the movie of the same name, “Gladiator.” He said: “I was not the best because I killed quickly. I was the best because the crowd loved me. Win the crowd and you will win your freedom.” In other words, for a man to be ordained he must sort of “win the crowd” because the bishop will inquire about the opinion of the crowd, the people of God, before ordaining a man. The voice of the Holy Spirit, therefore, can be heard at an ordination rite not only in the words of the bishop but also in the cheers of the congregation. Both must be in sync before the bishop lays hands on a man’s head and forever changes him into an “alter Christus,” another Christ.

In the Acts of the Apostles, St. Paul also relies on the opinion of the people of God (the crowd) before choosing men to follow him in the ministry. We read: “Paul reached also Derby and Lystra, where there was a disciple named Timothy, the son of a Jewish woman who was a believer, but his father was Greek. The brothers in Lystra and Iconium spoke highly of him (Timothy), and Paul wanted him to come along with him.” You might recall that Timothy not only became a priest, but also later a bishop. Paul will pen two great letters to Timothy that would be included in the canon of the New Testament called 1st and 2nd Timothy. But none of that later legacy would have ensued without the will of the people, without winning the crowd. Maybe Paul had to tell the people to stop clapping like Bishop McDonald did, before he laid hands on Timothy to make him an alter Christus, another Christ. Only when the ordained clergy and the lay congregation are in sync can you be most sure about the will of the Holy Spirit.

A few days ago Fr. Stephen was sharing some of the challenges he will face when he goes to St. Paul in Pocahontas. He mentioned a million dollar construction project that sounded very intimidating to him. I simply advised him: “I was not great because I killed quickly. I was great because the crowds loved me. Win the crowd and you will win your construction project.” I know I’m being silly. Nonetheless, there is truth in that saying, “Win the crowd.” The people of God will support worthwhile parish projects, but not frivolous ones. They vote with their feet, their pocketbooks, and with their cheers.

This notion of winning the crowd also defines my approach to a successful liturgy. How do you know if a priest celebrates the Mass well? Simple: do the people want to come back the following Sunday? That does not mean the priest must always say nice and pleasant things from the pulpit. The people come to hear the truth. Why? They know instinctively what Jesus said in John 8:32 rings true: “The truth will set you free.” The best liturgies will always “win the crowd” because when the clergy and the congregation are in sync, you can hear the whispering and the will of the Holy Spirit.

Incidentally, later today is also the ordination of Fr. Jon Miskin, the most newly minted minister for the Diocese of Little Rock. He credited his vocation to the crowds of his family, his friends and his patron saints, in short, what he calls his village. In other words, when the clergy and the congregation are in sync, you can hear the Holy Spirit, and you can find your vocation. Say a sincere prayer for Fr. Miskin today. Who knows, one day he may be appointed pastor of this great church and this great congregation. That’s something he’s probably not dreaming about today.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Tender and Tough

Finding the balance for steaks and Christians

05/23/2019

John 15:9-11 Jesus said to his disciples: "As the Father loves me, so I also love you. Remain in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and remain in his love. "I have told you this so that my joy might be in you and your joy might be complete."

Typically, a father teaches his children tough love while a mother teaches her children tender love. And the healthy development of a human person requires both toughness and tenderness. By the way, that’s also my idea of a perfect steak: a little tough on the outside but tender and juicy on the inside. A priest once told me every Christian should experience both toughness and tenderness in the family of the Church. He said something I will never forget, and it has deeply formed my understanding of parish life. The priest is like the father of the family, the religious sisters are like the mother-figures, and the children in the school are like the offspring, the sons and daughters. He conveyed an entire ecclesiology in that pithy little description.

My own childhood and youth was blessed by tough priests and tender nuns. And I turned out more or less balanced. My high school principal was Fr. George Tribou, who ruled Catholic High School for Boys with an iron fist. I learned later than one of his favorite books was The Lord’s of Discipline by Pat Conroy. In fact, Conroy even gave Fr. Tribou a signed copy of the book as a gift. Every boy who attended Catholic High learned lots of discipline and he knew who was the “lord of discipline.” But we also knew Fr. Tribou loved us deeply, and the discipline was the sign of that love.

I also grew up attending Masses at the Carmelite Monastery of St. Therese of the Little Flower. The nuns’ sweet singing, their lovely flower garden, the many conversations over coffee taught me tenderness. In other words, thanks to tough fathers (like Tribou) and tender mothers (like the Carmelites), I turned out to be a good steak, balanced with a little of both.

In John 15, Jesus acknowledges his debt to his Dad, God the Father, for teaching him tough love. He says, “As the Father loves me, so I also love you.” And one stark example of the Father’s tough love can be seen in the Garden of Gethsemane when he did not rescue his beloved Son from drinking the cup of suffering and being nailed on the cross. Similarly, Fr. Tribou did not make life easy for us boys at Catholic High School, when he taught us tough love of a father.

Without overstating the case, nor giving Mary too much credit, Jesus could likewise have added: “As my mother Mary loves me, so I also love you.” Obviously, we never put Mary on par with God the Father. Still, in his humanity, Jesus learned a little tender love from his “gentle mother.” You will easily recall John 2 where Mary’s prompting moved Jesus to perform his first miracle at the wedding in Cana. Like the Carmelite nuns taught me, so Mother Mary taught Jesus to be more tender and compassionate. Jesus was the perfect Savior and also the perfect steak: tough and tender.

Folks, let me pull out two practical applications of today’s message. First of all, all Catholics should both worship God but also venerate (not worship) Mary. We Catholic Christians should sort of have the bible in one hand and the rosary in the other. Why? Well, because healthy Christian development, like healthy human development, requires both paternal and maternal figures who shape us and teach us toughness and tenderness. All Christians should be a little tough on the outside and really juicy and tender on the inside.

The second application is much more controversial. The human need for balanced development is one reason (though not the only reason) why the Church frowns on adoption of children by homosexual couples. That is, when a homosexual or gay couples adopts a child, it is not only the rights of the adult couple that is at stake, but also the rights – indeed, the needs – of the child that is at stake. It is possible that gay couples can also teach tough love and tender love to children. But I am not convinced they can teach them as effectively as Fr. Tribou and the Carmelite nuns taught me and many others. In other words, the lords teach us about discipline, and the ladies teach us about love. I know this message is hard to hear for parents who have children (or grandchildren) with same sex attractions. The Church will need to dig deep into her tender side, while not neglecting her tough side, too, to address this delicate and difficult dilemma.

The next time you go out to eat, and happen to order a steak, remember what makes it taste so good: it’s a little tough and a little tender. And what makes a steak so good is also what makes a Christian so good.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Perfect Pruning

Being trimmed by the God, the Master Gardner

05/22/2019

John 15:1-8 Jesus said to his disciples: "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower. He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit, and everyone that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit. You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you. Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing. Anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither; people will gather them and throw them into a fire and they will be burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you. By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples."

Have you noticed the crepe myrtles around the church parking lot lately? About a month ago, our landscaping company had pruned them back and now they are growing new green branches that will soon burst into colorful blooms: white, pink and red. That always reminds me of my first attempt at pruning crepe myrtles. I was pastor of St. Raphael in Springdale and on my day off I would come to trim the crepe myrtles. But I only butchered them. Dc. Chuck Marino, a dear friend, said smiling: “Fr. John, I think they call that crepe murder, not crepe myrtle.” Since then I have learned that trimming or pruning is really a science because you are touching a living organism, and your touch can heal or it can hurt. Or, it can commit crepe murder.

Recently, I read about the ancient science of pruning vineyards, called “espalier.” This ancient practice of pruning dates back thousands of years to the time of the Roman Empire. It involves tying branches to a frame to expose leaves to more sunlight, retain heat, and increase the growing season so the fruit has more time to mature. The first step to espalier, the gardener attaches the vine branch to a vertical frame. The second step of espalier, they attach the branch to a horizontal frame. If you have ever driven through vineyards, and glanced at the rows of vine branches, you’ve seen this science of espalier to maximize the growth of grapes. The frames almost look like small t-shaped crosses. In other words, each little vine endures its own mini-crucifixion in order to give the new life of the grape that one day becomes a beautiful bordeaux.

In John 15, Jesus also speaks about the science of espalier as it applies to Christians. He teaches his disciples: “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower. He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit, and everyone that does, he prunes so that it bears more fruit.” And then he adds: “You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you.” In other words, Jesus is the main shaft of vine, who will undergo the espalier experience by being crucified on a vertical and horizontal frame called the cross. But that is so his death might produce not the grapes for a beautiful bordeaux, but the Blood of the Eucharist that gives eternal life.

But notice Jesus says the disciples must be grafted on to him and the Father will also prune them. That is, the disciples too must experience the espalier treatment and endure their own mini-crucifixion. You know, I always remember certain chapters of the gospel of John because they touch on key themes he wants to highlight. John 3 is about baptism, John 6 is all about the Eucharist, John 10 focuses on the Good Shepherd, John 15 is the vine and the branches, John 20 is about confession. When we recall these scriptures from memory, and read and reflect on them, Jesus’ words continue to prune and perfect us.

My friends, may I suggest three ways the Father, the vine grower, continues his loving work of pruning us? His touch always heals even if it sometimes also hurts us, but it is always to make us more holy. First, try to hear other people’s complaints, criticisms, and concerns about you as a little pruning. It is hard to hear that we made mistakes or performed a task poorly. But maybe that is the Father trying to trim you and prune you to be more perfect, and bear more fruit. Secondly, see the sacraments, especially confession, as a spiritual espalier. In other words, just like those vines are stretched on their mini-crosses (vertical and horizontal), so each confession feels like a mini-crucifixion. It is humiliating, but it is also makes us holy. That’s how God the Father prunes us and makes us perfect. And thirdly, start some kind of scripture study class this summer, a great way to spend your spare time. The Diocese of Little Rock has lots of options through the Little Rock Scripture Study program. Surennah Werley here at I.C. always has a program going. Hebrews 4:12 says: “The word of God is alive and active, sharper than any two-edged sword.” In other words, just like Jesus said, his spoken words in scripture perennially prune and perfect us.

Even since my days at St. Raphael, when I committed crepe murder, I have been scared to try any more pruning. I don’t want to hurt without also healing. But let us not be scared when the heavenly Father reaches out to prune us. His pruning may hurt a little, but it will heal a lot, and not only make us incredibly holy, but also infinitely happy.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Good Compliments

Seeking God’s praises instead of people’s

05/20/2016

Acts of the Apostles 14:5-18 At Lystra there was a crippled man, lame from birth, who had never walked. He listened to Paul speaking, who looked intently at him, saw that he had the faith to be healed, and called out in a loud voice, "Stand up straight on your feet." He jumped up and began to walk about. When the crowds saw what Paul had done, they cried out in Lycaonian, "The gods have come down to us in human form." They called Barnabas "Zeus" and Paul “Hermes," because he was the chief speaker. And the priest of Zeus, whose temple was at the entrance to the city, brought oxen and garlands to the gates, for he together with the people intended to offer sacrifice. The Apostles Barnabas and Paul tore their garments when they heard this and rushed out into the crowd, shouting, "Men, why are you doing this? We are of the same nature as you, human beings.

Mark Twain once famously said, “I could live for two months on a good compliment.” If we’re honest with ourselves, we could all say the same thing to a greater or lesser degree. That is, we all hunger for human praise and applause. I am convinced that the words, “I am proud of you” are virtually as vital and life-giving as the words, “I love you.” In modern lingo, people use terms like “kudos” and “props” to mean a good, sincere compliment. The fact that there are multiple words in the same language that mean the same thing indicates its importance.

One person it is easy to compliment is Fr. Stephen. Are you getting tired of hearing me say nice things about Fr. Stephen? Well, I am too, and I promise this will be the last props for that priest. Have you received a thank you note from Fr. Stephen? I received one for the pizza peel that I got him for Christmas. And I was impressed. His thank you notes are personal not generic, they are on special stationary not the back of a napkin, and he even uses different color ink to make his point even more poignant. My thank you notes, on the other hand, can be summed up by the blithe phrase, “Love you, mean it, never change.” In a sense, Fr. Stephen’s thank you notes are a genuine compliment to anyone who receives them, and probably helps them live a little longer, too.

In Acts 14, Paul and Barnabas land in Lystra and get some serious props for their pastoral ministry. They cure a crippled man, and the people spontaneously shout: “The gods have come down to us in human form.” The passage goes on to say: “They called Barnabas ‘Zeus’ and Paul ‘Hermes,’ because he was the chief speaker.” If Mark Twain had heard that compliment for himself, being called “Zeus,” he could have lived for two decades, not two months. But Paul and Barnabas decline the praise and the props of the people. They answer: “Men, why are you doing this? We are of the same nature as you, human beings.” In other words, give the glory to God, not to us. To be sure, Paul and Barnabas were hungry for human praise, like the rest of us, but they wanted praise from God rather than from the people. Why? Well because they did not want to live for two months or two decades on earth. They wanted to live eternally in heaven. Even better than a skillfully crafted thank you note on special stationary from Fr. Stephen will be to hear the heavenly Father say, “I am proud of you.”

My friends, if we are honest (and it’s easier not to be), we will admit we work very hard for human praise. I believe this desire underlies the allure of social media like Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and the like. We post something that we hope people will like, and then we wait anxiously for their responses and comments. If one of our posts went “viral” and was viewed by millions of people, we could paraphrase Mark Twain and exclaim: “I could live forever!” That is, until everyone forgot about your post because someone else’s post went viral a day later.

Instead of seeking props and kudos on earth, may I suggest we be like Paul and Barnabas and hunger for heavenly praise from God? And God’s praises are showered on us when we do things other people don’t notice. When we take time to pray in our room, where only God sees us. When we give money in the poor box and we do not get a tax-deduction. When we sacrifice our schedule to listen lovingly to someone who’s hurting, which ends up making someone else mad at us. When we swallow our pride and self-righteous anger and choose to compliment someone rather than criticize them. None of these things will win us any kudos or props or likes on social media. But they will not go unnoticed in heaven.

A good compliment may help you live for two months here on earth. But a good compliment from God will help you to live forever in heaven. And that’s why you should give no more compliments to Fr. Stephen.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Kerygma

Seeing the forest of faith amid the trees of trouble

05/16/2019

Acts of the Apostles 13:13-25 From Paphos, Paul and his companions set sail and arrived at Perga in Pamphylia. But John left them and returned to Jerusalem. They continued on from Perga and reached Antioch in Pisidia. On the sabbath they entered into the synagogue and took their seats. After the reading of the law and the prophets, the synagogue officials sent word to them, "My brothers, if one of you has a word of exhortation for the people, please speak." So Paul got up, motioned with his hand, and said, "Fellow children of Israel and you others who are God-fearing, listen. The God of this people Israel chose our ancestors and exalted the people during their sojourn in the land of Egypt.”

I love to tell other people that they are “missing the forest for the trees.” Have you heard that expression before? It means people get bogged down in the details of life (the trees) that they take their eyes off the more core values or critical concerns of life (the forest). I was surprised when someone made that same criticism of me many years ago: “Fr. John, you miss the forest for the trees!”

In 2003 I was pastor St. Edward Church in downtown Little Rock. Our parish was hosting the deanery meeting of the priests in Little Rock. About fifteen priests were sitting in the living room enjoying each other’s company and conversation (which means we were gossiping about the bishop). Suddenly the doorbell rang. I opened it and saw two young men, nicely dressed, who asked if they could speak to us for a few minutes. I hesitated to interrupt the meeting (especially the gossip), but since they weren’t asking for money, I thought what harm could it do? We’ll just humor them for a few minutes, give them a blessing and send them on their merry way.

They stood in the living room, surrounded by priests lounging on couches and said: “Do you know that Jesus Christ suffered, died on the cross and rose from the dead in order for you to be saved and have a personal relationship with him forever?” We all thought: “Seriously?” That would be like standing up in a meeting of medical doctors and saying: “Have you heard of something called the Hippocratic Oath? It says the first thing a doctor does is ‘do not harm’.” We smiled politely, rolled our eyes inwardly, gave them some food to take with them, and sent them on their way. But I have never forgotten that little visit.

Those two men belonged to a new Catholic movement called the Neocatechumenal Way. They literally imitate the early apostles and travel two-by-two proclaiming the core of the gospel message. In other words, they were saying to us professional priests: “Don’t miss the forest for the trees.” Pope St. John Paul II summed up this great forest of faith with one word, namely, the “kerygma.” He explained the kerygma was “the initial ardent proclamation by which a person is one day overwhelmed and brought to the decision to entrust himself to Jesus Christ by faith” (Catechesi tradendae, 25). That is, when we remember the forest of faith, we jump out of bed to be Christians, and the trees of trials and troubles don’t weigh us down.

In Acts 13, Paul and Barnabas are on their missionary journeys and preaching the kerygma to the world. They enter a synagogue on the Sabbath (Saturday), and say: “Fellow children of Israel and you others who are God-fearing. Listen.” Then they proceed to tell them exactly what those two young men preached to us priests in 2003, the “kerygma.” In other words, they were telling the Jews don’t miss the forest for the trees, put differently, don’t miss the Messiah, Jesus Christ, for all the trees of your traditions. But they did. Many of the Jews probably smiled politely, rolled their eyes inwardly, and gave Paul and Barnabas some food and sent them on their merry way. But some Jews that day may also have remembered that visit, like I did, and it slowly changed their lives.

My friends, do you ever wonder why so many Catholics are leaving the Church to join evangelical, non-denominational Protestant churches? If you’re like me, you might brush that choice off as seeking entertainment. Those churches have stadium seating with cup-holders, they have high tech audio-visual equipment, they have powerful preaching, and music to match, and most importantly, they have baby-sitting and child care at every service. And all that may be true. But they may also have something else, namely, they “don’t miss the forest for the trees.” There is not one Christian in those churches who doesn’t know what the kerygma is, and equally important, that the kerygma changes their life. They are always reminded of the forest of faith – a personal adherence to Jesus by faith – that they feel able to overcome the trees of trials and tribulations of life. That’s not entertainment; it’s evangelization.

Folks, have you missed the forest for the trees in your personal life, in your professional life, in your faith life? If you have, don’t worry, we priests miss it all the time, too. In every four-year presidential election cycle, we know how Americans pick their president. We say, “It’s the economy, stupid.” So, too, we Catholics should remember how Christians pick their churches: “It’s the kerygma, stupid.”

Praised Jesus Christ!

The White House

Longing for the place Jesus has prepared for us

05/17/2019

John 14:1-6 Jesus said to his disciples: "Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be. Where I am going you know the way." Thomas said to him, "Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?" Jesus said to him, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."

I would like to share something very personal and very private with you, a word about where I live, that is, the white house across the street. I live in the White House! Catholics like to call the clergy house a rectory, Protestants prefer parsonage, but you also hear “vicarage,” or “priory,” and even “manse” if you’re in Scotland, meaning mansion. One priest who recently visited the I.C. rectory exclaimed, “Man, you guys live in a palace!” I wondered if his comment said as much about where he lived as where we live. Some of you old-timers will recall that the rectory also housed the church offices. Even today when people make an appointment to come see me, they go to the rectory and wonder, “Where are you, Fr. John?”

As wonderful and comfortable the I.C. rectory is, however, I try not to get too attached to living there. A couple of years ago, I moved into one of the bedrooms upstairs, and left the larger downstairs bedroom for guests. That room was originally the pastor’s quarters. That bedroom has a living room with a fireplace, a separate bedroom, and a shower so spacious you can walk around in it. I feel those quarters are more fitting for guests, like when the bishop stays overnight. Priests are also transferred frequently, so getting attached to our rectory can be an occupational hazard. We have to move out of the palace eventually. School children also remind us not to revel in our rectories. One student saw me coming out of the sacristy before Mass, and then going back in after Mass. He asked very curious: “Do you have a bed in there?” If we did, maybe Fr. Stephen wouldn’t be late for Mass. The parishioners of I.C. church have made the rectory extremely comfortable for us clergy, but we know one day we will leave this luxurious home. For me, hopefully that will be feet first.

In John 14, Jesus shares a personal word about where he lives, a passage often quoted in funerals. He says: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?” Notice Jesus says two things. First, his home in heaven will truly be a “palace,” a manse like in Scotland, with many rooms, and maybe each one with its own fireplace and a shower you could walk around in. But secondly, Jesus also adds he is preparing a place for us. In other words, we, too – clergy as well as Christians – should not get too attached to our earthly homes. In Matthew 8:20, a scribe runs up to Jesus and promises to follow him anywhere. Our Lord replied: “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.” That is, if you want to follow me, don’t expect to live in an earthly palace, but hope rather for a heavenly one.

My friends, how attached are you to your earthly home? My parents love their home in Little Rock, and never want to leave it. They worked very hard and paid off their mortgage. They know where every little item is in their home, and the house feels like an extension of their bodies. It would be traumatic for them to leave one day. But they will leave. Msgr. John O’Donnell’s one wish was to return to St. John’s Manor, the residence in Little Rock for retired priests. But because St. John’s did not have twenty-four hour nursing care that he required, he had to stay at Parkway Village. John O’Donnell wanted to go back to St. John’s Manor, but Jesus had prepared a much better manor for him in heaven. Most of our lives we spend building an earthly home to raise our children and hand on as our heritage. The American dream is to own your own home and be the master of your own mansion, with a fireplace in every room and a shower you can dance around in. But sooner or later, we will leave that home.

In the story of the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy was given ruby slippers that she could click three times and return home. She repeated the words: “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.” When we repeat those words, what “home” do we mean? Some school children think by “home” I mean the church sacristy.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Devil's Advocate

Learning from those who oppose us

05/15/2019

Acts of the Apostles 15:1-6 Some who had come down from Judea were instructing the brothers, "Unless you are circumcised according to the Mosaic practice, you cannot be saved." Because there arose no little dissension and debate by Paul and Barnabas with them, it was decided that Paul, Barnabas, and some of the others should go up to Jerusalem to the Apostles and presbyters about this question. They were sent on their journey by the Church, and passed through Phoenicia and Samaria telling of the conversion of the Gentiles, and brought great joy to all the brethren. When they arrived in Jerusalem, they were welcomed by the Church, as well as by the Apostles and the presbyters, and they reported what God had done with them. But some from the party of the Pharisees who had become believers stood up and said, "It is necessary to circumcise them and direct them to observe the Mosaic law." The Apostles and the presbyters met together to see about this matter.

Have you heard the expression “the devil’s advocate”? Put simply, it refers to the person who takes the opposing side in an argument, and tries to tell you why you are wrong. In a sense, my work in the marriage tribunal with annulments is that of a devil’s advocate, although I’m sure I’ve been called a lot worse. Why? I come up with all the reasons why someone should not be granted an annulment. Crazy, right? The technical term for my role is “defensor vinculi” (the defender of the bond of marriage). The purpose of the defender (or the devil’s advocate) is to make sure the judge (Fr. Greg) respects the rights of people and the rules of the process, that he doesn’t cut corners, or compromise Catholic teaching. In other words, the devil’s advocate is a good thing, even though it doesn’t sound very good.

Did you know the Church uses devil’s advocates in the canonization of saints? For instance, when Mother Teresa was being canonized the pope invited Christopher Hitchens to testify against her life and work. In case you don’t know, Hitchens was an out-spoken atheist and strident critic of Mother Teresa. But the Church wanted to hear all sides of the argument, even the opposing side by the devil’s advocate, before canonizing St. Teresa of Calcutta. In the beatification process of Blessed Stanley Rother from Oklahoma City, Bishop Edward Weisenberger was the one who played that part. In other words, the devil’s advocate sounds like something horrible, but it actually helps the Church become more holy.

In Acts 15 we see who plays the part of the devil’s advocate in the first council of the Church in Jerusalem. As Paul and Barnabas enjoy tremendous success evangelizing Greeks and non-Jews to the faith, some Jewish converts complained that the new Christians should also be circumcised as the Jews had. We read: “But some from the party of the Pharisees who had become believers stood up and said, ‘It is necessary to circumcise them and to direct them to observe the Mosaic law’.” Just like I remind Fr. Greg at the Tribunal not to take short-cuts, so the Jewish Christians did not want the Gentile Christians to take any short-cuts. They wanted them to take the “same cut” as they had received in circumcision (pun intended). You know, you have to love the holy humor of the holy bible. But notice, thanks to the devil’s advocates in Acts 15, the Church was compelled to convene the Council of Jerusalem, and define and refine Church teaching and practice. Over the course of 2,000 years, the Church has convened 21 ecumenical councils, and virtually every one had to respond to some heretic or heresy, which, ironically, helped the Church to become more holy. The devil’s advocate, therefore, may sound like a bad thing, but is can actually be a very good thing.

May I share with you some of the devil’s advocates in my own life? You can find them sitting on my bookshelf in the rectory in my bedroom. You might be surprised to see Deepak Chopra’s book, Reinventing the Body, Resurrecting the Soul. Chopra doesn’t believe in Catholicism, or Christianity or maybe even in God. He concluded his book saying: “Then the only answer to ‘Who made me?’ is “I made myself’?” (Reinventing, 276). But reading that book – which millions of people have read, too, by the way – made me look deeper at my faith and not settle for superficial answers. Chopra didn’t let me take short-cuts. You might be shocked to find On Language by Noam Chomsky, a brilliant linguist, but also a left-leaning political activist. Chomsky doesn’t let me take short-cuts in my political views.

You might wonder why I have dog-eared the atheist philosopher, Frederick Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra. You might feel like burning the book The God Delusion by the Oxford philosopher Richard Dawkins. You will also stumble over the late Stephen Hawkins’ The Universe in a Nutshell, who had nothing nice to say about religion. Yet he is probably the most widely respected theoretical astrophysicist of modern times. These authors do not allow me any short-cuts when I think about philosophy, religion or science. They are the devil’s advocates who hold my feet to the fire, and thereby have made me a better Christian, a better Catholic, and a better clergyman.

Folks, who are the devil’s advocates in your life? These are the people who oppose you and try to tell you why you are wrong. We may be tempted to ignore them or write them off as crazy people. But don’t. Some things they say may make us wince; but some things they say may make us wise.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Bad Shepherds

Understanding the clergy sexual abuse crisis

05/13/2019

John 10:1-10 Jesus said: "Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber. But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice, as he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him, because they recognize his voice. But they will not follow a stranger; they will run away from him, because they do not recognize the voice of strangers." Although Jesus used this figure of speech, they did not realize what he was trying to tell them. So Jesus said again, "Amen, amen, I say to you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly."

Every month on the third Wednesday, we have a parish pastoral council meeting. At the end of the meeting I present a little teaching, precis in French, on various topics of Catholic faith and life. This coming Wednesday I will address the touchy topic of clergy sexual abuse scandal. Let me ask you: how are you dealing with it? How does it make you feel? What kinds of conversations have you had with other Catholics, with other Christians, with other non-Christians? One thing is for sure: no one can brush this off like it’s no big deal.

I mention this today because in John 10, Jesus not only describes himself as the Good Shepherd, he also defines what it means to be a bad shepherd. Our Lord says: “A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came to that they might have life and have it more abundantly.” My precis this Wednesday will have four parts: (1) what has happened historically the past twenty years, (2) how did the official church respond to the crisis, (3) how are ordinary Catholics coping with the crisis, and (4) my personal observations on the crisis. This morning, I would like to share the fourth part, my own feelings and faith in the face of this crisis. I will make five brief points and hope they help you a little to weather the storm of this scandal. You should be aware this storm at sea has already sunk many ships.

First, many Catholics lament the fact that all the media attention is focused on the Catholic Church and seems to ignore the fact of clergy sexual abuse in other churches. It is true that this scandal is not an exclusively Catholic crisis, and affects all denominations and religions. So, why do people care more about how Catholic priests behave than other clergy? I think part of the reason is celibacy, the teaching that priests are not married. Our culture is so soaked and saturated with sexuality that celibate priests look like men from Mars, aliens from another planet. And for some people celibacy is not just different, it’s dangerous. Why? Well, because normal people have sex, and if you don’t have sex, you’re not normal, you’re abnormal, and you may be dangerous. In some people’s minds, celibate priests are already guilty of some crime; they’re just looking for the smoking gun to prove it. The clergy sexual abuse scandal was that convenient smoking gun. That’s why people pay so much attention to us rather than others.

Secondly, many Catholics are experiencing Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’s classic stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and lastly acceptance. We experience grief because we have suffered a loss and that loss produces intense pain. These five stages of grief are ways we deal with that pain of loss. What did we lose? We Catholics lost a perception of the priesthood that was pristine and perfect. We want to put priests on a pedestal, kind of like where I sit at Mass. The abuse scandal has demolished that pedestal like a mighty sledge-hammer. Please find a constructive way to vent your feelings, and don’t keep them bottled up inside. After we work through the grief of loss and pain, we will see God has always called men to be priests, not machines.

Thirdly, bishops use experts in various fields of the human sciences to help them make decisions. One such science is psychology and it is rapidly changing and evolving. Not too many years ago, we used shock therapy for psychiatric illnesses, but that would be frowned upon today. Who can forget Jack Nicholson’s portrayal in “One Flew Over the Cookoo’s Nest”? I believe in the seventies, eighties and nineties, bishops sought the best expert advice of psychiatrists and psychologists who believed clergy sexual predation was due largely to environmental factors. So, bishops moved predatory priests from one parish to another hoping that change of environment would cure the clergyman. Today, we know that’s faulty science. My concern is we are judging the behavior of bishops yesterday by the scientific standards of today. I am not saying some bishops are not guilty; I just want them to have a fair trial.

Fourth, I believe many cases of clergy sexual abuse of minors is more a sin of power than a sin of lust. All sin is wrong and wounds both the sinner and the whole community. But it helps to know what the sin is as precisely as possible so you can apply the proper remedy. In some cases – although not all – the person who abuses another sexually has himself or herself been abused as a minor. As a result, they felt a deep sense of powerlessness: what could be more demeaning that being sexually abused as a minor? One tragic way they retrieve a sense of self and power is to perpetrate that behavior on someone else. And the cycle continues. Once we understand the deeper dynamic behind the deviancy, the better we will deal with the true problem, and not go on a goose chase.

And finally, we should recall Jesus’ words in Matthew 16:18, where he said, “You are Peter and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld will not prevail against it.” You know, we priests have been trying to destroy the church for over 2,000 years, and we have not succeeded, even though we’ll probably keep trying. And neither will the gates of hell. Why? Well, because this is Jesus’ Church and not ours. He alone is the Good Shepherd.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

My Mother Taught Me

Seeing Jesus’ Mother through our Lord’s eyes

05/12/2019

John 10:27-30 Jesus said: “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish. No one can take them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one can take them out of the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one.”

Today must be the easiest Sunday of the year to come up with a sermon. Why? Well, it’s Mothers’ Day and what preacher can’t think of something sweet and sentimental to say about his mother? Last week, a friend sent me an email about all the lessons he learned from his mother. See if any sound familiar to the lessons your mother taught you. He wrote: My mother taught me “religion,” when she said, “You’d better pray that will come out of the carpet.” My mother taught me “foresight,” when she advised: “Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you’re in an accident.” My mother taught me “irony” when she indicated: “Keep crying, and I’ll give you something to cry about.” My mother taught me, about “weather,” when she observed: “This room of yours looks like a tornado went through it.” My mother taught me about “receiving” when she threatened: “You are really going to get it when we get home!” My mother taught me about “humor” when she said smiling: “When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don’t come running to me.” And finally my mother taught me “wisdom” when she opined, “One day you’ll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you.” See, we all have sweet and sentimental memories of our mothers.

Now, what if we asked Jesus to write a list of the lessons that his mother, Mary, had taught him? What might our Lord’s list look like? In the gospel today, Jesus says: “The Father and I are one.” There is a sense in which Jesus can say something similar about his mother, Mary: “My Mother and I are one.” Now, clearly, I am not condoning or confessing “Mariolatry,” the idolatrous worship of Mary as if she were the fourth Person of the Holy Trinity. That’s ridiculous. Nonetheless, I am suggesting that Jesus and Mary are “one” in the sense that his human nature came entirely from her, just like his divine nature came from God the Father. People often say that I look a lot like my mom. At first, I thought that was an insult – people think I look like a girl! But later I learned that is a huge compliment: my mom is gorgeous. It’s highly probable, therefore, that some of Jesus’ features may have resembled his mother’s because she gave him his human nature. That is the sense in which Jesus can say, “My Mother and I are one.” Based on a quick survey of the scriptures, I think there are at least four lessons Jesus can say his mother taught him.

First of all, Jesus could say, “My mother taught me to do miracles when people are in need.” Do you remember Jesus’ very first miracle? It was in John 2, the wedding at Cana, where Jesus change a lot of dirty water into a lot of delicious wine. Jesus had originally objected to do anything, but when his mother interceded and insisted, our Lord acquiesced. Even though Jesus knows everything because he is God, nevertheless, he leaves a little room for Mary’s maternal intercession to move him, at least in his humanity, to do miracles. Jesus could say, “My mother taught me to do miracles.”

Secondly, Jesus can say, “My mother taught me to obey the Torah.” In Luke 2, Jesus goes with his parents for the annual pilgrimage to the Jerusalem Temple. We read in Luke 2: 41-42, “Each year his parents went to Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, and when he was twelve years old, they went up according to festival custom.” I would venture to guess that in 9 out of 10 Catholic families, it’s the mother who makes everyone go to Mass each Sunday. So, too, in Jesus earthly family, Mary taught Jesus to obey the Law and the Prophets, so that one day he would not only obey them, but even fulfill the Law and the Prophets. Jesus could say, “My mother taught me to be a good Jew,” as our mothers teach us to be good Catholics.

Thirdly, Jesus can say: “My mother taught me to seek God’s will rather than my own.” You remember at the Annunciation an angel appeared to Mary with the astonishing news she would be the Mother of God. And in Luke 1:38, she humbly answered: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Jesus would follow her example in the Garden of Gethsamane with the help of an angel. We read in Luke 22:41-43: ‘”Jesus prayed, Father, if you are willing take this cup away from me; still not my will but yours be done.’ And to strengthen him an angel from heaven appeared to him.” Like mother, like Son. I am convinced that angels also aid us every time we choose God’s will rather than our own. Jesus could say, “My Mother taught me to do God’s will.”

Fourthly, Jesus could say, “My Mother taught me to see the world through her eyes.” Some people say they see the world through “rose-colored glasses.” Jesus could say he saw the world through “Mary-colored glasses.” I suspect Jesus’ eyes looked a lot like his mother’s eyes. This hit me in the seminary in a homily I delivered as a deacon on Luke 7, the widow of Nain. We read in Luke 7:12: “As Jesus drew near to the gates of the city, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. A large crowd from the city was with her.” I believe in beholding that sad scene, Jesus had a premonition, a preview, of his own death; that is, he would die as the only son of a widowed mother being carried out of a city by a large crowd. In other words, Jesus saw his mother in the widow of Nain, and he raised her son to life to comfort and console her as if she were his own mother. Many Christians say, “W.W.J.D.” (What would Jesus do?) to help us in hard times. Jesus might have asked: “W.W.M.D.” (What would Mary do?) Again, not to diminish our Lord’s divinity, but only to help his humanity. Mary taught Jesus to see the world through her eyes, quite literally. Jesus could say, “Mary taught me to see like her.”

Today, on this Mothers’ Day we have a lot to be grateful to our mother’s for, and so does Jesus. Sawyer Brown sang, “I gotta thank mama for the cookin’ / Daddy for the whuppin’ / The devil for the trouble that I get into / I got to give credit where credit is due / I thank the bank for the money, / Thank God for you.” Today, all Christians, including Christ himself, can give credit to our mommas, and for a lot more than the cookin.

Praised be Jesus Christ!