Run Along Now

Farewell and greetings to priests on the move

08/30/2020

MT 16:21-27 Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised. Then Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.” He turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do." Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? Or what can one give in exchange for his life? For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay all according to his conduct.”

This is an extraordinary weekend in the Diocese of Little Rock, because 18 priests will be receiving new assignments! And the best part is I am not one of them! That reminds me of how Archbishop Fulton Sheen described his first assignment as a priest. It was NOT what he expected. He wrote in his autobiography, called Treasure in Clay: “On my return from Europe…I was appointed to a parish where the streets were unpaved, and in that part of the city which was called the ‘lower end’ and from which the well-to-do had left for other parts of the city.”

Incidentally, Sheen had just finished earning a doctorate at the prestigious Belgian university of Louvain, and had several offers to teach at various universities. But Sheen continued: “As far as I could tell, this was to be my life. I never complained. I had to forget my desire to follow a more intellectual vocation, and was resigned to be a curate” (a parish priest). “After about a year, the Bishop phoned [and said]: ‘Three years ago I promised you to Bishop Shahan of the Catholic University as a member of the faculty.’ Sheen asked, ‘Why did you not let me go there when I returned from Europe?’ The bishop replied: ‘Because of the success you had on the other side, I wanted to see if you would be obedient. So run along now.” Sheen concluded: “And I’ve been running along ever since.” And now, 18 priests in our diocese have received their “run along now” letters from the bishop, and they’ll be “running along” this weekend.

I would like to say a word about two of those 18 priests, namely, Fr. Martin Amaro (our former associate) and Fr. Daniel Velasco (our future associate). Fr. Martin has been at I.C. a little less than one year, he arrived Sept. 4, 2019. Now, why is he being transferred so soon? Well, he’s been out of the country for the nine years of his seminary studies before ordination – studying philosophy in Mexico and theology in Rome. So, it’s good he gets another parish experience before becoming a pastor. But I told Fr. Martin that a priest never forgets his first parish – like you never forget your first girlfriend – it always holds a special place in a priest’s heart. So, Fr. Martin will never forget I.C. as the first parish he loved as a priest.

One of Fr. Martin’s many talents is his preaching style. Delivering such smooth sermons is amazing for a newly ordained priest. His homilies are easy on the ears because his preaching presence is so casual, comfortable, and conversational. It feels like you’re just talking to a friend at a local coffee shop. But it’s always insightful and even entertaining. We will miss Fr. Martin for many reasons, but perhaps primarily for his preaching. But it’s time for Fr. Martin to “run along now.”

I hope you read the bio in the bulletin that Fr. Daniel provided a couple weeks ago. Fr. Daniel actually came to the United States on a tennis scholarship, earned an MBA degree at Harding University, and worked for eleven years before entering seminary. Now, normally, the more experienced pastor is supposed to mentor the newly ordained priest, but in this case, I think Fr. Daniel will be mentoring me! Here is an endearing trait that Fr. Daniel did not mention in his brief bio.

Several weeks ago, we had an hour long phone call to get to know each other. Fr. Daniel asked me questions about the church and school. But he always paused before asking the next question. Suddenly it hit me why, so I asked, “Hey, are you taking notes while I’m talking?” He replied, somewhat surprised and embarrassed, “Yes.” I said: “That’s amazing! No one takes notes while I talk; they usually sleep while I talk!” I knew from that moment on Fr. Daniel and I will get along great! Hopefully, the bishop will not send Fr. Daniel another “run along now” letter anytime soon!

Today’s gospel is apropos to all the clergy changes occurring this weekend. Why? It highlights how Jesus, too, received his “run along now” letter from his heavenly Father. We read in Matthew 16:21, “Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed an on the third day be raised.” Like Fulton Sheen, whose obedience was tested by his bishop by sending him to a parish with unpaved roads, so Jesus was sent to Jerusalem, where he would suffer and die.

Heb. 5:8-9 explains eloquently: “Son though he was, Jesus learned obedience through what he suffered, and when he was made perfect, he became the source of salvation for all who obey him, declared by God high priest.” In other words, at the heart of all priesthood, beginning with Jesus’ high priesthood, is obedience. And that’s why all priests – Fr. Martin, Fr. Daniel, and maybe even me one day – receive our “run along now” letters: so we can be more like Jesus, the High Priest, who learned obedience by suffering.

Folks, I ask your prayers for the 18 priests and their respective parishes that will undergo changes of clergy this weekend. May these changes be a blessing to everyone involved! Of course, in the end, it is not only priests who receive these “run along now” letters. One day each of us will receive one from our Heavenly Father, telling us, “run along now” back home to heaven.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Fire of Love

 Appreciating both Augustine and Aquinas

08/28/2020

Matthew 25:1-13 Jesus told his disciples this parable: “The Kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish and five were wise. The foolish ones, when taking their lamps, brought no oil with them, but the wise brought flasks of oil with their lamps. Since the bridegroom was long delayed, they all became drowsy and fell asleep. At midnight, there was a cry, ‘Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ Then all those virgins got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise ones replied, ‘No, for there may not be enough for us and you. Go instead to the merchants and buy some for yourselves.’ While they went off to buy it, the bridegroom came and those who were ready went into the wedding feast with him.

Today is the feast day of St. Augustine and it reminds me of an embarrassing exchange I had with Msgr. Hebert, my first pastor. I was a newly ordained priest at Christ the King in Little Rock, and too smart for my own good. I felt like I knew everything. He was the older, wiser pastor trying to teach me the ropes. He mentioned to me one day that he really loved reading and reflecting on the writings of St. Augustine. I replied rather rudely: “Oh gosh, I cannot understand Augustine at all! I would much rather read Thomas Aquinas, who’s more intellectual and illuminating.” Of course, now I see what a foolish statement that was. Why? Well, St. Augustine is one of the most brilliant theologians in the whole history of Christianity. And Aquinas is always quoting Augustine.

There was, however, some truth to what I said, but just not in the way I said it. How so? Well, both Augustine and Aquinas teach us how to know and love God but emphasize two distinct but complementary approaches. Aquinas uses cool, calm, clear contemplation, while Augustine is all heart and heat and holiness. Think of God as a fire, indeed, Heb. 12:29 even says: “God is a consuming fire.” Now, we can appreciate a fire for two beneficial qualities. On the one hand, it gives us light to see by, but it also gives us heat to stay warm by. When we are young and inexperienced we want to learn and know things, so Aquinas lights our path. When we’re older we just want a cozy blanket and a blazing fire to keep us warm on cold nights, so Augustine comes to the rescue.

I’ve recently been reading Aquinas’ writings on the angels in his Summa Theologica. He says that the two top tier angels – called the Seraphim and the Cherubim – are closest to God. The Seraphim are symbolized by the fire of love, while the Cherubim are symbolized by the light of knowledge. But do you know which of the two are closer to God: light or love? You guessed it: the seraphim are, the fiery angels of love are the closest to God, because he is an all-consuming, blazing inferno of love as Heb. 12:29 says.

As we get older and closer to God – because we know we’re about to see him face to face and meet our Maker! – we are less worried about knowing and more concerned about loving. Newly ordained priests think they know everything, but older and wiser priests know they need to love everything. Listen to these lines full of love from Augustine’s autobiography called “Confessions.” The great Doctor of Grace writes: “Late have I loved thee, O Beauty, ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved thee.” I think we all come to love God late, because only later in life do we appreciate the heat of a fire and are not mesmerized by its light.

In the gospel today, Jesus tells the parable of the wise and foolish virgins. It appears to be a question of knowledge and wisdom, and it most certainly is! It talks about wise and foolish virgins. But the parable also presents a dilemma of love. The wise virgins had enough oil in their lamps, but what did the oil symbolize? The oil is the love of the Holy Spirit. Why? Well, whom are the virgins waiting for? A teacher who imparts knowledge and wisdom? No. They’re awaiting a bridegroom, who is coming to celebrate a marriage, a celebration of love.

So, even though you need wisdom and knowledge to know where and how much oil to get (that is, in the sacraments); ultimately, you need love to get you into the wedding banquet of the Lamb, and meet the eternal Bridegroom. Again, it’s not a false dichotomy of either knowledge or love, but a true complementary of both knowledge and love, both Aquinas and Augustine, both Cherubim and Seraphim. But the Seraphim, even Aquinas admits, are the closest to God.

An ancient medieval maxim taught: “all roads lead to Rome.” That means whatever road of truth and love you are currently on, if you follow it faithfully, ultimately, you will find the end of the road in Rome, that is, in the Catholic Church. Why? Well, because here you will find Aquinas and Augustine, know-it-all newly ordained priests and wiser and more loving older priests, and most importantly, you will find the light and the love of God, who is “an all-consuming fire.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Canonizing Candidates

Voting more as Catholics than along party lines

08/25/2020

Matthew 23:23-26 Jesus said: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites. You pay tithes of mint and dill and cummin, and have neglected the weightier things of the law: judgment and mercy and fidelity. But these you should have done, without neglecting the others. Blind guides, who strain out the gnat and swallow the camel!“ Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites. You cleanse the outside of cup and dish, but inside they are full of plunder and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee, cleanse first the inside of the cup, so that the outside also may be clean.”

My preaching is going to get a little political this morning, so maybe more of you will stay awake. Or maybe not. Have you been enjoying watching the Democratic and Republican conventions last week and this week? It seems to me they are virtually trying to “canonize” the two candidates for president as if they were saints. Last week the DNC and this week the RNC are presenting prominent and popular people who sing the praises of each candidate, making each one sound like the Savior for all our country’s problems. At the same time, while they exalt one candidate they feel the need to denigrate the other candidate. Saying, in effect: “We are so good because the other candidate is so bad.”

There was a glimmer of hope and honesty when I heard Nikki Haley candidly admit last night: “America is not perfect but the principles we hold dear are perfect.” She was, of course, referring to Republican and conservative principles as being perfect. I am certain the Democrats could echo exactly that same sentiment: “America is not perfect, but the principles we hold dear are perfect.” That is, the Democratic and more progressive principles that they espouse are perfect. That’s the nature of every good principle: it is unassailable and in a sense always perfect. It is the application of those principles that creates controversy, conflict and conventions that canonize their candidates.

Perhaps it is divine providence that right in the middle of these political conventions we celebrate the feast of St. Louis, the king of France. Of all the monarchs of France, Louis IX was the only one canonized a saint. And that’s saying something since France has long held the designation of “the Church’s eldest daughter.” So, if any nation should have had saints in their leaders, it should have been France, but they could only count one. So, the RNC and the DNC should remember it’s not so easy to canonize political leaders.

Louis IX was born in 1214 and died on Aug. 25, 1270. Under his rule, France reached a veritable “golden age” both economically and politically. Other European leaders turned to him to settle their disputes because of his reputation of being fair-minded. He fought in the seventh and eighth Crusades. But he is mostly known for being a devout Catholic, and building the stunning, stained-glass chapel called “Sainte Chappelle” (the Holy Chapel). It’s one of my favorite churches in the whole world (after Immaculate Conception, of course!).

In fact, his opponents tried to criticize Saint Louis by calling him “the monk king” because he was so deeply religious. St. Louis was merciful even to rebels who fought against him. When he was urged to execute a prince who had followed his father in rebellion, St. Louis refused, saying, “A son cannot refuse to obey his father.” I don’t think we will hear that kind of civility and sanity in the raw rhetoric of our two political conventions.

My friends, as you prepare to cast your vote this November, ask for the intercession of St. Louis, the King of France. And remember two things. First, no political convention can canonize a saint, only the Catholic Church can do that. And St. Louis of France reminds us that the bar to be a saint is especially high for those who aspire to political office. That bar for politicians is almost as high as it is for a priest. Ask St. Louis to pray for our next president.

And second, vote as a Catholic and not merely as a Republican or as a Democrat. That is, don’t just shape your views on politics, the economy, morality, etc. by listening to conservative or liberal media outlets. Instead, read the Bible and the Catechism of the Catholic Church about these issues. And think and vote like a Catholic first and foremost. St. Louis IX of France was known as the “monk king” because his politics was secondary to his Catholic faith. Maybe all Catholics should be called “monk voters” because our faith is far more precious to us than our politics.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Notable Names

Learning the dual names of Scripture superstars

08/24/2020

John 1:45-51 Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the one about whom Moses wrote in the law, and also the prophets, Jesus son of Joseph, from Nazareth.” But Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said of him, “Here is a true child of Israel. There is no duplicity in him.” Nathanael said to him, “How do you know me?” Jesus answered and said to him, “Before Philip called you, I saw you under the fig tree.” Nathanael answered him, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.” Jesus answered and said to him, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than this.” And he said to him, “Amen, amen, I say to you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

One of the more frustrating things – but also one of the more fascinating things – about reading the Bible is when the same person has more than one name. But this shouldn’t be too off-putting since we deal with dual names all the time, even today. Growing up at home my parents called me a “pet name,” it was “Jolly” even though my “public name” is “John.” My brother’s pet name was “Polly” while his public name was “Paul.” My sister’s pet name was “Dolly” but her public name was “Mary.” All the three children’s names rhymed: Polly, Jolly, Dolly. Wasn’t that so clever of my parents? So, too, in Scriptures. Some of the most prominent personages in the Bible have at least two names, usually from different languages. And if you can learn those two names, reading the Bible will be far less frustrating and much more fascinating and profitable.

Here’s a list of some of the more notable names in the Bible. Today’s feast is of St. Bartholomew, one of the 12 apostles. But today’s gospel reading highlights Nathaniel. Can you guess why? That right: Bartholomew and Nathaniel are two names for the same apostle. Nathaniel was his Hebrew name, Bartholomeo was his Latin name. See, isn’t the Scriptures starting to feel a little less frustrating and a tad more fascinating just by knowing that?

Now, let’s back up to the beginning of the Bible and continue more chronologically. In Gen. 17:5, God says to Abram: “I am changing your name. It will no longer be Abram. Instead, you will be called Abraham, for you will be the father of many nations.” In the case of Abraham, both his names are from Hebrew.

The next notable name change occurs with Abraham’s grandson, Jacob. In Gen. 31, Jacob wrestles all night with one of the archangels, Peniel,” and the duel ends up a draw; neither wins. Afterward, the archangel says: “You shall no longer be named Jacob, but Israel, because you have contended with divine and human beings and prevailed” (Gen. 32: 29). When your duel with an archangel is a draw, you can count that as a win! The name Israel literally means “one who wrestles with God,” and it’s an apt name for the whole people of Israel.

Jumping ahead about 800 years, we find that King David and Bathsheba name their baby boy, “Solomon,” which means “peace” like the word “Shalom.” But the prophet Nathan gave him the name “Jedidiah,” which means “beloved of God.” And now you know what Jed Clampett’s name really means, and everyone should have more respect for hillbillies, especially if they’re from Arkansas.

Almost 500 years later, in the 6th century B.C., we arrive at the Babylonian Captivity, and the daring and dreaming youth named Daniel. Because the Jews are in Babylon, some are given Babylonian names. We read in Daniel: “The chief chamberlain changed their names: Daniel to Belteshazzar, Hananiah to Shadrach, Mishael to Meshach, and Azariah to Abednego.” There was a religion reason for the name change. The Hebrew names mentioned their devotion to God, Yahweh. But the Babylonian names signified that the Babylonian deity had power over the Jews by changing their names.

Those are some notable name changes in the Old Testament. What about in the New Testament? We have already mentioned how Nathaniel and Bartholomew are two names for the same apostle. The Sunday gospel from Matthew 16 described how Jesus changed Simon’s name to Peter, which is a Latin name meaning “rock.” Thus Jesus would build his Church on the rock of Peter’s personality and profession of faith. Another apostle who has two names is Matthew, who is also called Levi. In Mk. 2:14, we read: “As Jesus passed by, he saw Levi, son of Alphaeus, sitting at his customs post. He said to him, ‘Follow me.’ And he got up and followed him. In the parallel text in Matthew 9:9, this tax collector is referred to as Matthew and not Levi. Levi is the Hebrew name and Mattheus is the Latin name.

Folks, I know all these names can be a nuisance when we read the Bible. But keeping them in mind might help the Scriptures make more sense. But don’t worry, when we get to heaven, God will give us a new name and we can forget all our earthly epithets. Rev. 2:17 states: “I shall also give a white stone upon which is inscribed a new name, which no one knows except the one who receives it.” That is, God will finally reveal to us our new name, and our deepest identity. I just pray that it is not Jolly, Polly or Dolly.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Key to Love

Turning the key to unlock our hearts to love others

08/23/2020

Matthew 16:13-20 Jesus went into the region of Caesarea Philippi and he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter said in reply, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus said to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” Then he strictly ordered his disciples to tell no one that he was the Christ.

Someone sent me this joke a few weeks ago, but you have to listen carefully because it is subtle. Two beggars were sitting side by side on a street in Rome. One had a Cross in front of him; the other one was holding a Star of David. Many people went by, looked at the two beggars, but put money only into the hat of the beggar sitting behind the Cross. One day, a procession came past, and it included His Holiness, the Pope. He watched the people giving money to the beggar with the Cross while the people ignored the one with the Star of David.

After a few minutes the pope approached the beggar with the Star of David and explained: “My poor fellow, don’t you understand? This is a Catholic country. This city is the seat of Catholicism. People here aren’t going to give you money if you sit there with a Star of David in front of you, especially if you’re sitting next to a beggar who is holding a Cross. In fact, they would probably give more money to him just out of spite.” The beggar with the Star of David listened to the pope, smiled, and turned to the beggar with the Cross and said: “Bernie, look who’s trying to teach the Goldstein brothers about marketing!” Can you say: “Sucker!”

A little humor may help introduce our scriptures today that speak about His Holiness, the Pope, actually about the very first pope, St. Peter. Jesus bestowed a very particular power and privilege on Peter symbolized by the “Keys of the Kingdom.” Now, Peter’s Keys don’t help him tell which beggar is running a scam on him, but it does help him to discover Jesus’ true identity. Jesus is sort of the Divine Beggar who comes begging for our love. Peter’s Keys – like all good keys – unlock a very special door, namely, the door to Jesus’ heart. As Peter peers inside he can see who Jesus truly is as the Messiah, and ultimately, Peter can see Jesus’ deepest identity as the love of God on two legs, the Word made flesh.

Do you recall how a few verses before the bestowal of the Keys, Peter had professed who Jesus was while all other apostles stammered wild guesses? You see, the Keys grant Peter access into Jesus’ Heart, into his confidence, into his hidden plans and into his holy purposes. Throughout the gospels, Peter will share more intimately and more intensely than all the other apostles in Jesus’ ministry as the Messiah. This is why later tradition would call Peter and his successors the “Vicar of Christ,” that is, one who stands in the place of Christ.

How can Peter stand in the place of Christ? Well, because he holds the Keys to Jesus’ Sacred Heart, a Heart beating eternally with love. Peter’s Keys symbolize the power of the pope to unlock Jesus’ Heart, and release a torrent of divine love. How blessed we are in recent memory to have saintly popes – John XXIII, Paul VI, and John Paul II – using the Keys to unlock the Heart of Christ and flooding the word in a deluge of divine love. This is the pope’s sacred power and his singular privilege, symbolized by his Keys.

My friends, I would suggest to you that we too, in a sense, possess a particular “power of the keys.” What do I mean? Obviously, I am not talking about our house keys and our car keys. And clearly, we don’t carry the Keys of the Vicar of Christ, the pope, who alone can open the Heart of Christ. Nonetheless, we have the key to our own hearts, and our “personal keys” possess a similar power to the papal keys, because only we can unlock our own heart and unleash our own love. Lovers only give to each other the key to their heart. It said in the first reading from Isaiah 22: “When he opens, no one shall shut; when he shuts, no one shall open.” That is, each person alone has the key to open our own hearts and love others, or to lock our hearts and bottle up our love. That’s the power of our keys that we possess.

Let me give you some examples of how we can “open and shut” our hearts. For example, we have the power to unlock our hearts and love those in the LGBTQ community (gays, homosexuals, lesbians), or we can lock up our hearts and leave them out. Our keys can unlock our hearts and love those who have been the victims of racism and social and economic inequality, or we can shut our hearts and refuse to love them. We keys can unlock our hearts to love and pray for both presidential candidates from both parties, or we can shut our hearts and criticize and vilify those of the opposing party. Our keys can open our hearts to love the beggars on the street whether they hold a Star of David or a Cross in their hand, and not lock our hearts from them, even if they are trying to scam us.

In other words, we, too, have been bestowed, in a similar but not in exactly the same way as St. Peter, with a very powerful key, a key to a heart that we can open and flood the world with our love. Or we can shut that heart to the world. In that sense, we, too, are “vicars of Christ,” (vicars with a small “v”). Jesus gave St. Peter and his successors the Keys of the Kingdom, which are the Keys to his Sacred Heart. And we can give Jesus the key to our hearts so he can love others through us. Only lovers give each other the keys to their hearts.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Politics and Religion

Keeping the two great commandments together

08/21/2020

Matthew 22:34-40 When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a scholar of the law, tested him by asking, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.”

It is often said that one should not talk about religion and politics in polite company. G. K. Chesterton, however, rejoined that religion and politics are the only two things worth talking about. Why? Well, because religion deals with our love of God and politics concerns our love of neighbor (all our neighbors, not just those next door). In other words, there exists an inner inseparability between religion and politics like there’s an inner link between the two-fold commandment of love of God and love of neighbor.

In the gospel today from Matthew 22, Jesus explicitly keeps these two commandments together, even though the Pharisees try to force him to choose the “greatest commandment.” In other words, does religion take precedence over politics or should politics take priority over religion? But Jesus answers a little like Chesterton, keep religion and politics, love of God and love of neighbor, together.

It might help to understand the Pharisees’ question if we look at it from the Pharisee’s point of view. Who were the Sadducees and Pharisees? Both were Jewish leaders who came into existence after the Jews returned from the Babylonian Exile in 537 B.C. And they both became extinct after the Temple was destroyed in 70 A.D. This era of Jewish history is called the “Second Temple Period.” The Sadducees were more politically-minded leaders, who cared about politics. The Pharisees were more rooted in religion. The Sadducees would have wanted Jesus to say the love of neighbor (politics) is most urgent, while the Pharisees wanted Jesus to answer that the love of God (religion), is the most critical commandment. But Jesus replies that both are essential. In other words, you cannot separate the love of God and the love of neighbor, do not separate religion and politics.

Why should any of this matter to 21st century Americans? Why indeed! Well, you and I live in a nation that was founded on the ideal of the separation of church and state. That principle is articulated in the First Amendment to the Constitution, which reads: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibit the free exercise thereof.” We all take those words for granted but at the time they were made law, they were very revolutionary.

In fact, I would suggest to you that the notion of separation of church and state is the real “American Revolution.” Why? Prior to the founding of this great nation religion and politics always walked hand-in-hand, strange bedfellows. This union was expressed in the Latin maxim “cuius regio, eius religio” meaning “whose realm, his religion.” Since we are all subjects in the realm of Mayor George McGill, we should all adopt his religion. If that sounds preposterous to you, then that’s a sign of how deeply ingrained separation of church and state is in our consciousness and in our conscience. That was not the common view of humanity prior to 1776. Furthermore, and more to the point of this homily, this separation of church and state, this severing of the link of religion and politics, seems to stand in stark contrast to what Jesus says in the gospel today.

I know what I am saying sounds pretty radical, and probably pretty un-American. But I feel deep doubt that it is possible to conceive of a country without a public form of worship. Or put differently, you cannot have a “culture” without a “cult" (worship). Can you hear the word “cult” hidden inside the world “culture”? In other words, even if we get rid of God from the public square, we will find something else to worship in public life. And I sometimes suspect we worship sports. I mean, can we really live without fall football?

You can always tell what’s important to a culture by what dominates the city skyline. The tallest and most expensive and impressive buildings used to be churches and cathedrals. But today those structures are predominantly sports complexes. If you wonder what you worship, just ask yourself: where do I spend my time, my money, and my love? In other words, there is no true separation of church and state, religion and politics; we just call them by different names here in our country.

At the height of the Civil War, President Lincoln delivered his Gettysburg Address. He asked a profound question: “Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation (the United States), or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure.” That’s the question the Pharisees and Sadducees asked: can we truly separate religion and politics, church and state? That’s the question we should all ask. And frankly, I don’t know the answer, but I guess we’ll find out.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Return or Remote

Seeing the value of the body in education

08/18/2020

Matthew 19:23-30 Jesus said to his disciples: “Amen, I say to you, it will be hard for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of heaven. Again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God.” When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and said, “Who then can be saved?” Jesus looked at them and said, “For men this is impossible, but for God all things are possible.” Then Peter said to him in reply, “We have given up everything and followed you. What will there be for us?”Jesus said to them, “Amen, I say to you that you who have followed me, in the new age, when the Son of Man is seated on his throne of glory, will yourselves sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has given up houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands for the sake of my name will receive a hundred times more, and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”

This morning I would like to weigh in on the sensitive subject of returning to school this fall. The two sides of the debate can be distinguished by the words, “return” and “remote.” “Return” means to go back to in-person, classroom learning, while “remote” refers to on-line, virtual instruction, where students stay home. This debate has been thrust back into the spotlight yesterday when the whole University of North Carolina system decided to switch to “remote” learning after one week of having “returned” to campus. Last week they tested 135 students and faculty as positive for COVID-19 infections. You may recall that California’s colleges opted for “remote” rather than to “return” earlier this summer.

Now, people’s opinions about return versus remote learning runs the entire gamut from one extreme to the other. Some people, for example, are convinced this pandemic is a sign of the end of the world, and are researching the book of Revelation for proof. At the other extreme are those who hold it is a political hoax and will virtually disappear after the November election. Doctors don’t even agree on the debate. One nephrologist (a kidney doctor) said we must seriously consider “remote instruction.” It’s not safe to go back. One podiatrist (a foot doctor) felt this pandemic has all been blown out of proportion and kids must “return” to school this fall. Have you developed your own opinion on the debate? I’m very proud of our Catholic schools for giving parents the option of choosing either format for learning because parents’ opinions differ on this debate, too.

My opinion in this matter is not political nor is it medical, and it’s not even educational. I am not qualified to speak in those arenas. Rather, my perspective is theological, that is, does our faith shed any light on this debate about “returning” versus “remoting”? Put more precisely, what difference does a student’s body make sitting in a classroom rather than sitting at home and being virtually present? Pope St. John Paul II said in an address on April 2, 1980, these astonishing words: “Through the fact that the Word of God [that is, Jesus] became flesh, the body entered theology through the main door.” In other words, the human body is indispensable to the Incarnation, the fact of our faith that God became man. You might almost say that if the whole cosmos were a classroom and if Jesus were the Student, the Incarnation means Jesus would have chosen to “return” rather than chosen “remote” instruction or learning.

Reflecting on the role of the body in theology, especially the Incarnation, has radical repercussions for Catholic schools in particular. Why? Well, the Incarnation – that is, Jesus Body, and our bodies by extension – is integral to the whole sacramental system: baptism, Communion, confession, confirmation, marriage, Holy Orders and anointing of the sick. You cannot receive a sacrament if you do not have a body. Angels cannot be baptized or receive Communion, neither can dogs or cats (sorry!). Angels and animals are missing the key ingredient emphasized by the Incarnation: the human body.

This is why you cannot phone-in or send a text with your confession: your body must be present. This is why you cannot send a substitute to say your wedding vows: your body must be present. And obviously, don’t send a substitute to consummate your marriage. Your own, physical body must be present to receive the graces of the sacraments. The whole sacramental system depends on the human body. Why? Well, because “through the fact that the Word of God became flesh, the body entered theology through the main door.” To be sure, your body is not essential in education in exactly the same way as in a sacrament, but it makes a huge difference nonetheless: we receive God's grace through the body, and we receive our education through the body. St. John's gospel opens with his profound Prologue: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn. 1:14).

Whatever happens this fall, whether we go “remote” or we “return” – and there are plenty of good reasons for both – I am deeply grateful to our teachers. They’ve done tremendous hours of overtime this summer to get ready for this fall. Instead of relaxing on the beach, they were getting ready for both possibilities of return and remote education. With good reason they can ask like St. Peter in the gospel today: “We have given up everything and followed you. What will there be for us?” And Jesus’ answer applies in a special way to teachers today, who said: “Everyone who has given up houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands for the sake of my name will receive a hundred times more and will inherit eternal life.” So, please keep Jesus’ promises in mind, because we did not give our teachers a raise this year.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Hatfield Hog

 Learning how our possessions can possess us

08/17/2020

MT 19:16-22 “Teacher, what good must I do to gain eternal life?” He answered him, “Why do you ask me about the good? There is only One who is good. If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.” He asked him, “Which ones?” And Jesus replied, “You shall not kill; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness; honor your father and your mother; and you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” The young man said to him, “All of these I have observed. What do I still lack?” Jesus said to him, “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” When the young man heard this statement, he went away sad, for he had many possessions.

There’s a dubious dictum in the legal world that states: “possession is 9/10 of the law.” What does that mean? Well, if you happen to be wearing my shirt, then it is presumed to be yours unless I have compelling evidence that it is mine. That is why I never let Fr. Martin wear my clothes. But probably the most famous case of possession being 9/10 of the law was the case of the Hatfield hog. You will recall the famous feud between the Hatfield's and the McCoy’s, two families in the late 1800’s fighting over who possessed what.

In 1878, Floyd Hatfield had a hog in his possession, but Randolf McCoy claimed it was his hog, saying that notches on the pig’s ears were McCoy notches and not Hatfield’s. The judge in the case – who happened to be a Hatfield, by the way – argued that since Randolph Hatfield actually had the hog in his possession and there was insufficient proof to the contrary, then it belonged to him. Possession is 9/10 of the law. Of course, that only threw fuel on the fire of that family feud. Sadly, sooner or later all families feud over who possesses what, whether it’s hogs or it’s the inheritance.

How does possession of property play out in the Bible? In the gospel this morning, a rich young man wants to follow Jesus but his possessions prevent him. Jesus lovingly invites him to closer companionship, saying: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.” And how did the rich young man react? He felt like Floyd Hatfield holding his hog: “he went away sad for he had many possessions.” Notice Jesus is not against having treasure. He just wants us to prefer heavenly treasure to earthly ones. If possession is 9/10 of the law, then seek to possess heavenly treasure. In other words, let the McCoy’s have the hog.

Let me share some scriptures that shed some additional light on possession of property from a biblical perspective. The Old Testament figure of Job humbly says about his possessions: “Naked I came forth from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21). Sometimes the Lord takes away our Hatfield hog, and we should humble accept it. Paul teaches the Philippians that this was the attitude of Jesus, who sort of had the “whole hog” of being God himself, but he humbly relinquished it. We read: “[Jesus] emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness, and found human in appearance, he humbled himself.”

St. Thomas Aquinas adds in his Summa Theologica that the devil’s attitude was exactly the opposite of Job and Jesus, explaining: “[The devil] sought to have final beatitude of his own power” (Summa, I, Q. 63, Art. 3). The devil, like Hatfield, would not let anyone else have his hog. He wanted to “hog” heavenly glory all for himself. In other words, in heaven, possession is not 9/10 but rather only 1/10 of the law. Why? Well, because the only operative law in heaven is God’s love, and God gives his gifts to those whom he chooses. Our possession of those gifts has little to do with it.

My friends, what is your attitude to your possessions? Do you possess them or do they possess you? Do you hold on too tightly to like the rich young man and how Hatfield held on to his hog? Or are you like Job and Jesus who humbly let God decide how to distribute his gifts as he chooses? It sometimes surprises American Catholics to learn that the fundamental principle of Catholic social justice is not “private property” but rather the “universal destination of goods.” That is, the world and its goods belong to all of us before they belong to any one of us. As a result, we should freely share our hogs and not hog our possessions.

I have a growing tower of Tupperware in the kitchen. Where did they come from? They multiply because of all the many meals that people have brought me during this pandemic. I happily hand those Tupperware containers to anyone who wants them. That tower of Tupperware reminds me to look at all my possessions like Tupperware: everything is a gift (ultimately from God) and I should give everything as a gift to others. St. Paul reminded the Corinthians: “All things belong to you, and you belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God” (1 Cor. 3:21-23). Possession in paradise is only 1/10 of the law.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Price of Ordination

Praying for Omar Galvan on his diaconate ordination

08/12/2020

Ephesians 3:20-21 – To God whose power now at work in us can do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine – to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations, world without end. Amen.

In some important respects the diaconate is a more significant step of Holy Orders than the priesthood, and even the episcopacy. Of course, deacons don’t get to do all the cool sacramental stuff priests and bishops do, like celebrate Mass, hear confessions, etc. Nor are they privileged to wear all the paraphernalia of prelates, marching in miters and carrying crosiers. Nonetheless, it is at diaconal ordination that a man makes the crucial commitments that conform a Christian to be more like Christ the High Priest. At diaconate ordination Omar has to “pay the price” but only later does he “reap the rewards.” The importance of the diaconate can be discerned in four respects.

First, for the first time Omar will hear with his own ears that God is calling him to Holy Orders. Up until now, he has been guessing and hoping he is called to be a priest. And maybe even sometimes hoping he was not called. But after Msgr. Friend declares that Omar is “worthy” to be ordained, the bishop will utter the most important words a man will ever hear, saying: “We choose this man for ministry in the diaconal order.” At that moment, the bishop is not speaking on his own power or on his own behalf, but rather with all the weight and authority that Christ bestowed on the apostles and their successors. The whole apostolic college stands behind those words. Indeed, the bishop speaks on behalf of Christ himself. From now on, Omar does not have to wonder if God wants him to be ordained a deacon, and later a priest; he will have heard God’s voice with his own ears. And we all will have heard it too, Omar, and we will be happy to remind you in case you forget!

The second price you pay is the promise of celibacy. Some may be surprised that it’s at diaconate and not at priesthood ordination that you promise life-long celibacy. But it makes perfect sense. Why? Pope St. Paul VI explained eloquently that celibacy is a life dedicated “not to any human ideal, no matter how noble, but to Christ and to His work to bring about a new form of humanity in all places and for all generations” (Caelibatus sacerdotalis, 24). Jesus had already anticipated this new form of humanity in Mt. 22:30, where our Lord taught: “At the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage but are like the angels in heaven.” In other words, Omar, being celibate allows you to embody (quite literally) the "new form of humanity" we will all enjoy in heaven one day. So, on behalf of everyone who will be inspired by your celibate commitment, I say, “Thank you!” This world desperately needs to see happy celibate priests, and to see that sometimes “sex does not sell.”

The third price you pay is the promise to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Some people may think taking time to pray is always easy and enjoyable, but it isn’t. It can be a chore and a bore. And it can be hard to find time to pray because sometimes we get super busy. William Martin writes that being a pastor is like being a stray dog in a whistler’s convention! Some days it feels like all your parishioners are walking around with whistles. On those super busy days please remember this promise to pray and don’t skip it. I am convinced you will help your parishioners more by praying for them than in any other way. That’s why the Church makes this a “promise” and not just a “suggestion.”

And the fourth price you pay is obedience to the bishop and the pope. I’ll never forget what Archbishop Sartain said when the Apostolic Nuncio called him to be the bishop of Arkansas. He was a priest in Memphis at the time. When the Nuncio asked him to accept that appointment to Arkansas, Archbishop Sartain immediately said, “Yes.” Later he explained to us priests that he had already said “Yes” at his diaconate ordination to whatever the bishop (or the pope) might ask of him throughout his life. So, Omar, when the Apostolic Nuncio calls you to be a bishop, now you know what answer to give him. Obedience should foster a profound love and respect for our bishop and pope. Why? Well, because it underscores the ancient maxim, “Ubi Petrus, ibi ecclesia,” “Where there is Peter, there is the Church.” In other words, your promise of obedience will help you not to “jump ship” out of the bark of St. Peter, the Church.

Now, I readily admit these prices to pay for diaconate ordination can be a little daunting and maybe even seem a little dangerous. That’s why we put our confidence in Christ and not in ourselves. St. Paul assured the Ephesians, and he assures you, Omar: “To God whose power now at work in us can do immeasurable more than we ask or imagine – to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations, world without end. Amen.” Or, as our Protestant friends put it more poetically: “Jesus paid a debt he didn’t owe because we owed a debt we couldn’t pay.” So, don’t worry, Omar, Jesus has already “paid the price” for your ordination.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Divine Addiction

Passing the pandemic in Scripture study

08/11/2020

Ezekiel 2:8—3:4 The Lord GOD said to me: As for you, son of man, obey me when I speak to you: be not rebellious like this house of rebellion, but open your mouth and eat what I shall give you. It was then I saw a hand stretched out to me, in which was a written scroll which he unrolled before me. It was covered with writing front and back, and written on it was: Lamentation and wailing and woe! He said to me: Son of man, eat what is before you; eat this scroll, then go, speak to the house of Israel. So I opened my mouth and he gave me the scroll to eat. Son of man, he then said to me, feed your belly and fill your stomach with this scroll I am giving you. I ate it, and it was as sweet as honey in my mouth. He said: Son of man, go now to the house of Israel, and speak my words to them.

This pandemic has provided me a lot of time for bible study. And I must confess, the more I study Scripture, the more I love it, and the more I desire it. It’s becoming a holy habit and a divine addiction. I almost feel like a Protestant because occasionally I can even quote Scripture passages from memory. No self-respecting Catholic would ever do that. One of my favorite passages is Jeremiah 15:16, because it perfectly describes how I feel about bible study. The Old Testament prophet was also a Scripture addict and exclaimed: “When I found your words, O Lord, I devoured them; your words were my joy, the happiness of my heart.”

Last week I was working on a bible study on the gospel of Mark and I said spontaneously out-loud: “Wow, that’s amazing!” Just then Cindy McNally walked in and with a smirk said: “Sounds like you wrote something really good.” I replied: “No, I just read something really good.” I am a happy addict of the Word of God, and I don’t want any 12-step program to save me. Indeed, it is the Scriptures that are saving me, together with the sacraments.

Now, Scripture study is not all sweet, with rainbows and unicorns. There is also a sour side, a hard side, a side where you sweat and struggle. Scripture is like the sweet and sour sauce you get at Chinese restaurants. Today’s first reading from Ezekiel 2-3 reads: “[God] said to me: Son of man, eat what is set before you, eat this scroll…I ate it, and it was sweet as honey in my mouth.” So, Scripture study is indeed sweet.

But do you recall another instance where a prophet was commanded to eat a scroll? Well, I do because I study the bible! In Rev. 10:9 an enormous angel straddling the earth, with one foot on land and one foot on the sea, commands St. John: “Take and swallow [the scroll]. It will turn your stomach sour, but in your mouth it will taste as sweet as honey.” In other words, like all real and enduring relationships, so too our love affair with the Scriptures will have sweetness and sourness, peaks and valleys. There will be butterflies, rainbows and unicorns to be sure, but also tears and tribulations. In short, bible study requires work, hard work, but if you persevere, you will reap great rewards.

A couple of weeks ago I was talking with Lawson Hembree, who manages our school endowment funds. After discussing the endowment, we talked about how we’re passing our free time in the pandemic. Not surprisingly, he was involved in leading a bible study in his church. He started talking excitedly about the book of Revelation and the two anonymous witnesses of Revelation 11. He and I exchanged ideas about their identities. He believed they were Elijah and Enoch. I replied that they must be Elijah and Moses because Elijah called down fire from heaven, and Moses delivered the plagues. After I got off the phone, I had to stop and pinch myself and said: “Did I just have an intelligent conversation with a Protestant about the Scriptures?” That’s reaping the reward of serious Scripture study, and it is sweet indeed.

But perhaps the best tool of Scripture study is the lives of the saints, like today’s feast of St. Clare. She was one of the first followers of St. Francis of Assisi and started the women’s religious order called the “Poor Clares.” Francis fell in love with “Lady Poverty,” and he taught Clare the joyous rapture of that love affair, too. Clare renounced her family’s riches and cut her hair as a sign of that renunciation. What is the theological term for that kind of radical poverty? It’s called “evangelical poverty,” one of the three “evangelical counsels” of poverty, chastity and obedience.

Evangelical is another way of saying “gospel” because both come from the Greek root “euangelion” which means “Good News.” How do I know that? Well, because I study the bible! In other words, the saints are like a mirror reflecting the truth of the Scriptures up and down the ages in every culture and continent. If you want to know “WWJD” (What would Jesus do?) today - and Jesus is simply the Scriptures on two legs - just look at the life of Pope St. John Paul II, Pope St. John XXIII, St. Teresa of Calcutta, Blessed Stanley Rother. In a sense, the best bible study consists of a close contemplation of the lives of the saints, like St. Clare.

Folks, it seems like this pandemic will not be over anytime soon, so you may have free time on your hands. May I invite you to learn my holy habit and enjoy this divine addiction of bible study? The rewards of serious Scripture study are out of this world, just study St. Clare.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Eyes of Elijah

Finding God in the small and simple things

08/09/2020

1 Kings 19:9A, 11-13A At the mountain of God, Horeb, Elijah came to a cave where he took shelter. Then the LORD said to him, “Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will be passing by.” A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD—but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake—but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was fire—but the LORD was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave.

Someone recently sent me a list of 12 aphorisms to lift my spirits, and they really did lift my spirits. I think we can all use a little perk in the midst of this pandemic. They are: “One, accept the fact that some days you are the pigeon, and some days you are the statue. Two, always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them. Three, always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it. Four, drive carefully…It’s not only cars that can be recalled by their Maker. Five, if you cannot be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.” By the way, that’s why so many homilies are vague: you wouldn’t like them if they were clearer! It goes on: “Six, it may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.

“Seven, never buy a car you cannot push. Eight, since it’s the early worm that always gets eaten by the bird, sleep late. Nine, birthdays are good for you: the more you have the longer you live! Ten, we could learn a lot from crayons: some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box. Eleven: save the earth…it’s the only planet with chocolate! And twelve, you may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.” That last one is my favorite.

What I really like about these little sayings is how each one sees the joy in the little things in life: pigeons, birthdays, chocolate and even crayons. Every aphorism sort of teaches us to see again because it’s almost as if we’ve become blind to the beauty all around us. And ultimately that Beauty’s name is “Jesus.” William Blake, the English poet, wrote: “How sweet I roam’d from field to field / And tasted all the summer’s pride, / Till I the Prince of love beheld / Who in the sunny beams did glide.” In other words, aphorisms can help us to see the Prince of love all around us, even in a pandemic. Jesus is the best perk in a pandemic.

The first reading today is taken from 1 Kings 19, one of my favorite stories about Elijah the prophet. Elijah knows that one of the best places to meet God is on a mountain top. You might recall that in 1 Kings 18, Elijah had just defeated the 450 prophets of the pagan god, Baal, on Mt. Carmel. Now, the prophet perches atop Mt. Horeb, which by the way, is another name for Mt. Sinai where Moses met God face to face. That meeting between God and Moses is recounted in Exodus 19, and on that occasion there was blast of trumpet, the earth trembled, and a fire blazed. 1 Kings 19, by contrast, shows God coming in a very different disguise. Not earthquake, fire or wind, but in “a tiny whispering sound.” Like William Blake said, “Till I the Prince of love beheld / Who in the sunny beams did glide.” Elijah learned that sometimes God is found in the simplest and smallest experiences in life, not necessarily in the towering and terrible. The Prince of love can be glimpsed gliding on shining sunbeams, if you look through the eyes of Elijah.

My friends, may I suggest that during this pandemic we try to see the Prince of love present in the small, simple and sweet experiences of life, and not go searching for him in the dramatic and daring? In a certain sense, this pandemic has educated us, like Elijah’s eyes were trained, to see God in “a tiny whispering sound.” Here are a few examples. Many families have spent tons of time together like never before. To be sure, they have driven each other crazy at times, but many have also discovered the joy of being together and quality time together: enjoying simple things like card games, board games, and puzzles. Parents increasingly tell me that they will continue to work from home, even after this pandemic is over. The pandemic has taught them to see with the eyes of Elijah, and find the Prince of love right in their own home.

This pandemic has also piqued our hunger for the sacraments, especially the Eucharist. Many Catholics are truly missing coming to Mass, in particular the elderly, like my parents. They ask me every week: Is it safe to return to Mass yet? And I tell them: no not yet! But have you ever noticed how the sacraments use the smallest and simplest signs and symbols: a handful of water, a wafer of bread, a sip of wine, a smidge of oil, the words of wedding vows, and so forth? Maybe that’s one reason some people sadly miss the miracle and the majesty of the Mass. Why? Well, they are looking for the thunder, earthquake and fire, but the Lord comes in “a tiny whispering sound” – like when spouses whisper “I love you.” That takes the eyes and ears of Elijah.

Finally, may I share a little secret with you? Have you ever noticed that the priest sometimes whispers prayers that are inaudible to the congregation? We are not talking to ourselves or cursing the deacon under our breath for some mistake he made. We are saying personal prayers, sometimes called “secret prayers.” One of my favorites is said after reading the gospel and while kissing it. We whisper: “Through the words of the Gospel, may our sins be wiped away.” In other words, the words of Sacred Scripture have healing properties. Maybe this pandemic has given you extra time to read the Bible. After you read it, you have my permission to kiss it and whisper my secret prayer: “Through the words of the gospel, may our sins be wiped away.” Try to see every tiny word of God with the eyes of Elijah.

My friends, where is God? Naturally, he is everywhere. Moses and Elijah both found him on Mt. Horeb/Mt. Sinai but in different disguises. We may sometimes see God in his grandeur and glory, but more often, I suspect we will spy him in “a tiny whispering sound.” Maybe one perk of this pandemic is we are learning to see God with the eyes of Elijah.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Best of Times

Seeing the contrasts during the Covid crisis

08/07/2020

Matthew 16:24-28 Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? Or what can one give in exchange for his life? For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory,and then he will repay each according to his conduct. Amen, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the Son of Man coming in his Kingdom.”

This pandemic has repeatedly brought to my mind those memorable first lines of Dickens’ novel, A Tale of Two Cities. As I read those lines, see if you notice how accurately it applies to our own age. Dickens began: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way.” Wasn’t that nice of Dickens not to say “Hell”?

During the last six months (since March) haven’t you heard a lot of wisdom but also foolishness, seen plenty of light but also darkness, and felt acutely all manner of hope as well as despair? Dickens’ novel takes place during the French Revolution (1789-90), a time of tremendous upheaval and unrest. Why did he choose that period? Well, times of crisis really capture that contrast between good and evil. It’s when you run out of money that you figure out who your true friends are because you can’t buy them dinner and drinks anymore. Maybe one blessing of this Covid crisis is we have discovered who our true friends are, and I hope we all discover our best Friend is Jesus.

This crisis has also brought into greater relief the real value of a Catholic school education, that is, knowing Christ. I say this with great respect to public and other private schools, who have remarkable resources and tremendous teachers. But if crises brings out sharper contrasts (as Dickens demonstrated), then this Covid crisis highlights how important it is to have Christ as the Cornerstone of our Catholic school. How so? Well, a friend shared some suggestions that the principal of Overbrook Academy in Nashville, Sr. Julia Marie Eagle, gave her staff to keep in mind this year. Yes, I am totally stealing her stuff. First, she said we need to lean on the Lord in times like these. God draws closest to us when we feel we have nothing left to lose. In other words, when all our other so-called friends have left us, we finally realize we have a faithful Friend in Jesus.

Secondly, she said when you start to feel overwhelmed, stop for a break, and take two minutes to pray. The chief blessing of a Catholic school is the privilege to pray, not only in private, but also in public. I love to see teachers before school gathering in small groups to pray. I hope they pray for me! But I know they are praying for all their students, especially those who might be struggling. Teach you students the power of prayer – both private and public – and how it brings peace. This pandemic brings prayer into sharper contrast because it makes the difference between this year being “the spring of hope” or “the winter of despair.” Take time to pray.

And third, she observed that around week two or three of school, students start to feel depressed. So, make an extra effort to be gentle and kind to each other, to teachers and students alike. You know better than me how uncharted these waters are. Dr. Hollenbeck likes to say, “we all feel like first-year teachers this year” because everything is so new and our skills and strategies are untested. In other words, we need to give extra encouragement for everyone. Tell each other it’s going to be okay. Remind each other that God is in control, even if we are not. And it’s okay to make mistakes. I love that remark that Thomas Edison made while working on the light bulb: “I haven’t failed 10,000 times. I have found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” Encourage each other like Edison, and this year will end up “a season of Light” and not “a season of Darkness.”

Please know that I am very proud of you teachers as this school year begins. You have suddenly become front-line workers in an essential service to the society and to the Church in educating our children in the faith. Listen to the Lord’s words in the gospel today for those disciples who take up their cross and follow him. He promises: “For the Son of man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay each according to his conduct.” Even Jesus’ promises seem more pronounced during a pandemic.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Polly Want a Cracker

Learning the virtues of wisdom and humility

08/04/2020

Mt 15:1-2, 10-14 Some Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus from Jerusalem and said, “Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? They do not wash their hands when they eat a meal.” He summoned the crowd and said to them, “Hear and understand. It is not what enters one’s mouth that defiles the man; but what comes out of the mouth is what defiles one.” Then his disciples approached and said to him, “Do you know that the Pharisees took offense when they heard what you said?” He said in reply, “Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be uprooted. Let them alone; they are blind guides of the blind. If a blind man leads a blind man, both will fall into a pit.”

Yesterday a parishioner sent me an email asking my opinion about cremation versus burying the body. Have you wondered about which way you will leave this world? In the email he quoted a line from the latest book by Scott Hahn called Hope To Die, where Hahn seemed to champion burial over burning, that is, he wasn’t crazy about cremation. But what impressed me most about the quotation was Hahn’s humility, a reluctance to say he’s right, or has all the answers. Hahn readily recognized: “We think we know what the Incarnation and the Trinity are, but when we get to heaven the parrot’s words, ‘Polly want a cracker’ shed as much light on these holy mysteries as the words we use to talk about them here and now” (Hope To Die, 42). That reminds me of the same humility expressed by the 4th century B.C. Greek philosopher Plato, who said (I’m paraphrasing): The more I know, the more I know that I don’t know. In other words, the wiser you become the humbler you become.

Wisdom and humility are the two sides of the same coin of holiness, and its opposite is adolescent arrogance. That is, both wisdom and humility are absent in the arrogant adolescent. After a life-time of prayer and pondering, we finally discover that things like life and death and especially the mysteries of our faith are far beyond the human mind to master. At the end of the day, and at the end of our life, maybe the most we can say with confidence is: “This is our best guess.” Hahn explains further: “The realities to which these words point are infinitely greater, infinitely more beautiful and infinitely more astounding than the words we use to describe them” (Hope To Die, 42). Can you say “Polly want a cracker”?

This double deficiency of wisdom and humility plagues the Pharisees in the gospel today. The disciples try to warn Jesus that in offending them, he risks making powerful enemies. Jesus calmly replies: “Let them alone, they are blind guides of the blind. If a blind man leads a blind man, both will fall into a pit.” What caused the Pharisees blindness? It was a form of adolescent arrogance, a sense of superiority and thinking they knew it all. But just like the tragedy of being a teenager is ignorance of your own ignorance, so, too, the Pharisees are blind to their own blindness. They parade around like peacocks for people to admire, and they squawk like silly parrots: “Polly want a cracker?” In other words, they lack both wisdom and humility, thinking they have God in a box. When someone thinks they are that self-sufficient and all-knowing, it’s very hard to help them, that is, until they fall into a pit and cry for help.

Today, August 4, is the feast day of St. John Vianney, the patron saint of poor parish priests like me. He was born on May 8, 1786 and died August 4, 1859, and served as a priest in Ars, France. One of my favorite stories of the “Cure d’Ars” is when he faced the jealousy and opposition of his brother priests. They wanted him defrocked as a priest because of how popular he was as a confessor. He would hear confessions for 14 hours a day and people would flock from all over France to confess their sins.

One day, the priests started a petition alleging that Fr. John Vianney was not worthy to be a parish priest. St. John Vianney asked to see the petition and promptly signed his own name to the petition. He knew better than anyone how unworthy he was to be a priest. All honest priests do. So, if you all start such a petition here at I.C. to get rid of me, please give me a chance to sign it as well. Notice the joint virtues of wisdom and humility in St. John Vianney’s life: no adolescent arrogance and every confession helped the people to grow in humility and wisdom too. Every time we confess our sins, we sign our own petition declaring we are unworthy to be called Christians.

May the prayers of St. John Vianney help all of us grow in humility and wisdom. May the humble and holy Cure d’Ars help us overcome our adolescent arrogance in thinking we know everything and we don’t need anyone to help us. At the end of the day, and at the end of our life, maybe all we have done is repeat like that precocious parrot: “Polly want a cracker?”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Walking on Water

Seeing the power of the command of Christ

08/03/2020

Matthew 14:22-36 Jesus made the disciples get into a boat and precede him to the other side of the sea, while he dismissed the crowds. After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When it was evening he was there alone. Meanwhile the boat, already a few miles offshore, was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it. During the fourth watch of the night, he came toward them, walking on the sea. When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. “It is a ghost,” they said, and they cried out in fear. At once Jesus spoke to them, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” Peter said to him in reply, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him, and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” After they got into the boat, the wind died down. Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying, “Truly, you are the Son of God.”

Today’s gospel from Matthew 14 and Peter’s walking on the water reminds me of an embarrassing episode when I was a teenager. I was on a retreat out in the country and there was a small lake nearby the retreat house. We had just heard an inspiring sermon on this passage about Peter walking on the water, even though he had “little faith.” I thought to myself, surely I have a “little faith” like Peter so perhaps I can walk on water, too. So, I decided to put my faith to the test (by the way, do not try this at home).

But I didn’t want to do it while anyone was around. Why? Well, I didn’t want to look as foolish as Peter when he sank in case my experiment didn’t work and I sank too. So, I stood on the shore of that little lake and made the most sincere and heartfelt act of faith my teenage soul could muster. I bravely stuck out my right foot and stepped on the water. Do you know what happened? My foot sank deep into the mud of that lake shore, and my shoe got stuck. I thought, oh well, at least it’ll make a good story someday when I need some sermon material, so it wasn’t a total loss.

Now, why was Peter able to walk on water and I wasn’t? And by the way, nor did the other 11 apostles, so I’m in good company. Well, I think it has to do with the command of Christ. Peter asked: “Lord if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” And Jesus replied: “Come.” And notice when I was a teen, I did not ask Jesus to command me to walk on the water of that little lake. In other words, walking on water depends as much on deep faith as it does on the command of Christ. Only if Jesus wants you to walk on the water will you be able to walk on the water. Everything depends on the will of Christ, which is nothing other than the will of God. Apparently, Jesus did not want me to walk on the water, just like he did not want the other eleven apostles to walk on the water either.

But then why did Jesus want Peter in particular to walk on the water? I believe it’s because Jesus would give Peter a share in his ministry of shepherding the whole Church. Indeed, Peter, and his successors the popes, would be called the “vicar of Christ,” standing in the place of Christ himself. We find other examples of this shared shepherding in symbolic language throughout the New Testament. In Mt. 16, Jesus says Peter is the “rock,” and in Ephesians 2, St. Paul will insist that Jesus is the “cornerstone.” Notice the shared ministry. Again, in Mt. 16 Jesus says Peter is entrusted with the “keys,” while in Rev. 1:18, St. John beholds that Jesus continues to carry the “keys” of the netherworld. Again, shared roles and responsibilities.

So, today, Jesus walks on the waters of the deep and so does Peter. In Hebrew the word “tehom” described the primordial waters of Gen. 1:2 out of which God created the original heavens and the earth. So, now Christ inaugurates a new heavens and a new earth by walking on the waters of the deep, the tehom. And even more surprisingly he invites Peter to walk with him. But it cannot be emphasized enough that everything Peter does and everything Peter is depends on the command of Christ, that is, the will of God. Christ commands, Peter obeys.

But I am convinced that Peter’s walking on the water not only contains consequences for him but also for us, indeed, consequences for the whole world. Those consequences can be summarized in one question: where is the Church that Jesus established, that is, where is the initial installment of the new heavens and the new earth that augur the new creation? The answer is found in an ancient maxim in Latin, “ubi Petrus, ibi ecclesia” that is, “where there is Peter, there is the Church.” In other words, as long you stay close to Peter and his bark (his ship), you will be close to Christ and his Church. Our love, our respect, our obedience, and our prayers for Pope Francis, the 265th successor of St. Peter, is what distinguishes Catholicism from Protestantism and even Orthodox Christianity.

And why do we care so much about Peter and the popes? Because he was the one who got to walk on the waters of the deep, the tehom, and share in the shepherding ministry of Christ himself, not the other eleven apostles, and not me. And again, this was not because Peter was so personally perfect or great, or even because of his “little faith,” but because Christ commanded it as a manifestation of the will of God. You know, I knew that embarrassing episode from trying to walk on the water as a teenager would come in handy in a homily someday. A similarly embarrassing episode from Peter’s history came in handy for him, too.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Born in 1900

Surviving hard times with fortitude and faith

08/01/2020

Matthew 14:13-21 When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. The crowds heard of this and followed him on foot from their towns. When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples approached him and said, “This is a deserted place and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus said to them, “There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.” But they said to him, “Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.” Then he said, “Bring them here to me,” and he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied, and they picked up the fragments left over— twelve wicker baskets full. Those who ate were about five thousand men, not counting women and children.

I recently saw a powerful post on social media that provides a much needed perspective on this pandemic. It is called “Born in 1900.” Have you seen it? The anonymous author writes: “Imagine you were born in 1900. When you are 14, World War I starts, and ends on your 18th birthday with 22 million people killed. Later in the year, a Spanish Flu epidemic hits the planet and runs until you are 20. Fifty million people die from it in those two years. Yes, 50 million.” By the way, so far our current coronavirus pandemic has killed 681,000 people world-wide, compare that with 50 million. The author continues: “When you are 29 the Great Depression begins. Unemployment hits 25%, and global GDP drops 27%. That runs until you are 33. When you turn 39, World War II starts. You aren’t even over the hill yet. When you’re 41, the United States is fully pulled into WWII. Between your 39th and 45th birthday, 75 million people perish in the war, and the Jewish Holocaust kills 6 million.”

The author’s not done yet; he goes on: “At 50, the Korean War starts, and 5 million perish. At 55 the Vietnam War begins, and it doesn’t end for 20 years. Four million people die in that conflict. Approaching your 62nd birthday, you have the Cuban Missile Crisis, a tipping point in the Cold War. Life on our planet, as we know it, could well have ended. As you turn 75, the Vietnam War finally ends.” The author ends his essay explaining: “A kid in 1985 didn’t think their 85-year-old grandparents understood how hard school was.” And by the way, they call these elderly people the “vulnerable population.” They may be vulnerable in body but certainly not in spirit.

The scripture readings today talk about how to make it through hard times with fortitude and faith, kind of like the person “born in 1900,” that is, when we are feeling vulnerable. Isaiah 55 is the end of the second section of Isaiah commonly called “Deutero Isaiah” or “Second Isaiah,” chapters 40-55. It was composed during the Babylonian Exile when the people were beginning to lose hope of ever returning home, like many soldiers during the World Wars who died in foreign lands. Listen to Isaiah comfort the people: “All you who are thirsty, come to the water! You have no money, come, receive grain and eat; Come, without paying and without cost, drink wine and milk.” Notice the reference to “wine” and “grain,” which was a far off and faint foreshadowing of the wine and bread of the Eucharist. Isaiah didn’t promise the people a New Deal like FDR did in the Depression, but rather a new covenant, which would calm and console the people when they felt vulnerable.

In his remarkable letter to the Romans, St. Paul writes: “What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us.” Paul was encouraging the Christian community struggling to stay faithful in pagan Rome, where they were persecuted and put to death. Paul himself would be martyred there by beheading. But Paul knew that “the blood of martyrs is the seed of Christians” and so eventually this “evil city” would become the “eternal city,” and the holy headquarters of the Roman Catholic Church. Like the blood of millions of soldiers brought peace and freedom after World Wars, so the blood of martyrs brought true peace and true freedom to Christians world-wide. Thus, Paul comforted the vulnerable.

Finally, in the gospel Jesus takes pity on the crowds who are sick and hungry. How does our Lord minister to them? We read: “Taking five loaves and two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds.” If you do a close analysis of the words Matthew employs at the multiplication of the loaves and fish, you discover he uses the exact same words at the Last Supper in Mt. 26: “take,” “bless,” “break,” and “give.” Do you know another instance when a priest takes Bread, blesses Bread, breaks Bread and gives Bread to people to eat? Of course you do: at every Mass. Last week the ladies counting the low collection asked me if I could multiply the money. I replied that my superpowers only work on Communion not on the collection. The Eucharist is how Jesus feeds and comforts the crowds yesterday, today, and forever.

My friends, how are you feeling during this pandemic? Some are feeling anxiety about going back to school. Others feel lonely and depressed stuck at home or in hospitals. Others feel frustration because people are not taking this seriously, and not wearing masks. Still others feel the financial strain from reduced hours or lost jobs. If we think we have it hard, perhaps we should ask our parents and grandparents, who have definitely seen darker days than these. Drink deeply from the fountain of their fortitude and faith. They may be vulnerable in body, while we are vulnerable in spirit.

And the best place to find peace in this pandemic is in the scriptures and the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, as today’s readings remind us. Come to the altar where the Lord takes, blesses, breaks and gives us the Bread of Eternal Life. Here we find the grain and wine that Isaiah prophesied to quench our deepest thirst. Here we feel like St. Paul that “we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us.” And while you’re here at Mass, you can also thank God you were not born in 1900.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Back To School

Seeing how leaving home is necessary to finding home

07/31/2020

Matthew 13:54-58 Jesus came to his native place and taught the people in their synagogue. They were astonished and said, “Where did this man get such wisdom and mighty deeds? Is he not the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother named Mary and his brothers James, Joseph, Simon, and Judas? Are not his sisters all with us? Where did this man get all this?” And they took offense at him. But Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and in his own house.” And he did not work many mighty deeds there because of their lack of faith.

You have no doubt heard the old saying “familiarity breeds contempt.” That means sometimes we are so close to someone all we see are their defects and defeats, their problems and peculiarities. We lose sight of all their abilities, accomplishments and attributes. And notice, too, inside the word “familiarity” is hidden the word “family.” And therefore, the people we are most prone to feel contempt for are those living under the same roof. They are too close for comfort.

Could this be one reason why young people go away to college, and the farther away they can get the better? It’s not just that they are “going away” to some great college, but it’s just as much they are “getting away” from the irritations at home, where familiarity has bred contempt. Isn’t this a main motivation for kids and parents alike to want school to start again. We have all been stuck with each other since mid-March, and we’re driving each other crazy.

In the gospel of Matthew today, Jesus’ great “Parabolic Discourse” ends with his rejection at Nazareth, his hometown. Why? Well, because “familiarity breeds contempt,” especially when you are dealing with your own family. Notice why the people take offense at Jesus. The townspeople say: “Where did this man get such wisdom and mighty deeds?...Is he not the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother named Mary and his brothers James, Joseph, Simon and Judas? Are not his sisters all with us?”

In other words, Jesus’ message and miracles were too close for comfort. Like in so many families, no matter what stage of history they live in, all Jesus’ relatives could catch was his ordinariness and plainness, familiarity has blinded them to his greatness. Like countless college kids, Jesus, too, had to leave home so people would appreciate his greatness and glory. Now that’s not because Jesus needed that distance, but rather because the people did.

July 30 is the feast of St. Ignatius of Loyola, the great founder of the Society of Jesus, and the author of the spiritual classic called “Spiritual Exercises,” or more commonly “Ignatian Spirituality.” In 1539 Ignatius, together with Peter Faber and Francis Xavier, formed the religious order called the Society of Jesus, or “Jesuits” for short. Their goal was twofold: (1) establish colleges and universities for higher learning, and (2) be missionaries to the farthest corners of the globe. And, in a sense, St. Ignatius is the patron saint of college kids who feel a burning desire to get out of their home and go as far away as possible to college. It’s as if the Jesuits are saying: if you have to get out of the house, where familiarity breeds contempt, at least come to a Catholic college, where people will appreciate your greatness and glory.

The mother church of the Jesuits is located in Rome, and I visited it many times while I was in Rome. It’s baroque architecture is breath-taking. It is called the “Church of the Gesu” and “Gesu” is Italian for “Jesus.” St. Ignatius is buried at a side altar of the church, and opposite him on the other side of the church is St. Francis Xavier. But that side altar does not house the whole body of St. Francis, only his right arm. The rest of his body is buried in Goa, India, where he was a missionary.

Francis’ right arm is highly symbolic, though, because he used it to write innumerable letters back to Ignatius about his adventures and achievements in foreign lands. How God had done great things through him. How many college students use their right hands to call home or write emails or send texts back to their parents back home to tell their about their exploits and experiences in college! Sometimes you have to leave your old home before you can find your true home. And St. Ignatius of Loyola understood that better than most.

Folks, we stand on the threshold of new academic year, and everyone is anxious to go back to school: children and parents alike. Why? Well, we all feel acutely how “familiarity breeds contempt”; we are all getting under each other’s skin. But it’s a very uncertain year that looms ahead and many students may be stuck at home taking virtual classes online. Let us ask for the intercession of St. Ignatius of Loyola that this school year be a blessing for all; that it be safe and successful; that students discover their true greatness and glory. And as the Jesuits are fond of saying, this year be “Ad majorem Dei gloriam,” for the greater glory of God. Ignatius understood deeply that sometimes you have to leave your old home before you can find your true home.

Praised be Jesus Christ!