Your Expectations

Lowering our expectations to be more realistic

10/27/2020

Luke 13:18-21 Jesus said, “What is the Kingdom of God like? To what can I compare it? It is like a mustard seed that a man took and planted in the garden. When it was fully grown, it became a large bush and the birds of the sky dwelt in its branches.” Again he said, “To what shall I compare the Kingdom of God? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch of dough was leavened.”

Today I am going to tell you the secret to happiness, but it is going to sound really weird. I am convinced that we will live happier lives if we have lower expectations. Most people, however, promote higher expectations – everything is going to be great! – but I think that is a recipe for disaster and disappointment. Rather, I recommend lower expectations – everything is not going to be okay – as the path to peace and contentment.

Let me give you a simple example of what I mean. When have you enjoyed a movie the most? Sometimes people really hype-up a movie and say how great it is. My expectations naturally grow sky-high and I walk into the movie theater with my huge soft drink and bucket of popcorn ready to have my mind blow away. But what often happens? I am very disappointed and leave thinking what a waste of time. On the other hand, when I walk into a movie with low expectations, thinking it will be mediocre and hum-drum, frequently I am pleasantly surprised! In other words, the real secret to watching a great movie does not have so much to do with the movie itself, but with my expectations of the movie. Movies are like life in that respect: the higher our expectations, the higher the chance we will be disappointed, but the lower our expectations the better the likelihood we will be pleasantly surprised.

In the gospel today Jesus tries to lower his apostles’ expectations for what the Kingdom of God would be like. You see, their expectations were sky-high because they believed Jesus would usher in the old Kingdom of David – think of the legend of King Arthur and his court sitting at the famous Round Table. They hoped for mountains of money, an invincible military, and million of subjects ready to obey their smallest command.

So, Jesus says: “What is the kingdom of God like? To what can I compare it? It is like a mustard seed that a man took and planted in the garden. When it was fully grown, it became a large bush and the birds of the sky dwelt in its branches.” In other words, you will be a happier Christian and a truer disciple if you can bring your sky-high expectations for the kingdom back down to earth. The Kingdom of God is not like King Arthur’s court, but more like a little mustard seed. The path to peace and contentment as a follower of Jesus is to lower our expectations.

Let me give you one concrete case where lower expectations will help us to be happier. That is, lower your expectations in picking friends, especially a boyfriend or a girlfriend. Of course it’s good to have high standards for ourselves and our friends. St. Paul writes in 1 Cor. 15:33, “Bad company corrupts good morals.” Nevertheless, know that all friends and even boyfriends and girlfriends are human beings with their faults and failings, warts and weaknesses, just like you and I have our own weakness and failings. But if we expect our friends to be perfect – that they will never hurt us, that they will never say something we find offensive, that they will never ignore us, etc. – then we will inevitably be disappointed, sad and feel betrayed. That’s the downside of high expectations.

I work in the marriage tribunal and deal with cases of annulments. Do you know what an annulment is? An annulment allows a divorced person to marry again in the Catholic Church. They are always hard and heart-wrenching. Recently, I worked on one case where a woman applied for five annulments because she had been married five times and divorced five times. The last question in the annulment questionnaire is, “What have you learned about yourself through this process?” She answered: “I just haven’t found the perfect husband yet.” I wanted to respond to that lady by saying, “Good luck with that.”

In other words, her problem is not in finding the perfect man – there is no such animal, all men are jerks, take it from a representative of that side of the species – the real problem is her sky-high expectations to find the super spouse who will never, ever, ever do anything she does not like or disapproves of. If that poor woman cannot lower her expectations for a future husband back down to earth, I am afraid she will be a regular customer of the marriage tribunal. Of course, I am not saying you have to stay married to a wife-beater, but I am saying you are waiting in vain for King Arthur to come from Camelot and whisk you away on his white horse.

Boys and girls, the secret to a happy life is simple: lower expectations, that is, more realistic expectations of others and yourself. Lower expectations will allow you to enjoy more movies, lower expectations will help you be a better disciple and have more realistic idea of the Kingdom of God, and lower expectations will help you find a holy husband and a wonderful wife. In other words, happiness is not found in something outside of you, but in something inside: your expectations.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Pope versus Pundit

Putting the pope’s controversy in context

10/26/2020

Luke 13:10-17 Jesus was teaching in a synagogue on the sabbath. And a woman was there who for eighteen years had been crippled by a spirit; she was bent over, completely incapable of standing erect. When Jesus saw her, he called to her and said, “Woman, you are set free of your infirmity.” He laid his hands on her, and she at once stood up straight and glorified God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant that Jesus had cured on the sabbath, said to the crowd in reply, “There are six days when work should be done. Come on those days to be cured, not on the sabbath day.” The Lord said to him in reply, “Hypocrites! Does not each one of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his ass from the manger and lead it out for watering? This daughter of Abraham, whom Satan has bound for eighteen years now, ought she not to have been set free on the sabbath day from this bondage?” When he said this, all his adversaries were humiliated; and the whole crowd rejoiced at all the splendid deeds done by him.

Today’s gospel of Luke 13:10-17, where Jesus cures a crippled woman on the Sabbath, provides an opportunity to make a few comments about Pope Francis’ controversial statements in a movie released on Oct. 21 at the Rome Film Festival. It was a documentary film called “Francesco” (Italian for “Francis”), about Francis of Rome, not Francis of Assisi. The gospel of Luke presents Jesus performing a miracle clearly not in conformity with the Jewish laws of the day, especially “resting” on the Sabbath, based on the 3rd Commandment of the Decalogue. Hence, the leader of the synagogue complains: “There are six days when work should be done. Come on those days to be cured, not on the Sabbath day.” Jesus, however, fires back: “Hypocrites! Does not each one of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his ass and lead it out for watering? This daughter of Abraham, whom Satan has bound for eighteen years now, ought she not to have been set free on the Sabbath day from this bondage?”

The synagogue leader was right, but Jesus was more right. How so? The Jewish leader was appealing to the law of Moses, the 10 Commandments, but Jesus was coming to establish a higher law, without abolishing the former law but rather absorbing the former law. That is, Jesus had come to establish the law of love and mercy, the 8 Beatitudes, and he himself was its perfect embodiment. In other words, Jesus is the law of love on two legs.

And whenever anyone draws near to Jesus, they find the true “Sabbath rest” that Moses only saw from a distance, since he himself did not enter the Promised Land. Heb. 11:39 reads: “Yet all these [Abraham, Noah, Moses, etc.], though approved because of their faith, did not receive what had been promised.” This gospel passage seems to me one way to understand Pope Francis’ comments about the possibility of some recognition of people who live together – including (but not only) homosexual persons – that is, not abolishing the Church’s teaching on marriage but rather absorbing it into Jesus’ larger law of love, mercy and compassion.

Several people have emailed me in the past week concerned that the pope was changing the Church’s teaching on marriage or softening the Church’s stance on sexual acts only being proper in marriage and between husband and wife. One person sent me a Youtube video of a reporter summarizing the comments of Bishop Athanasius Schneider of Kazakhstan. The bishop pleaded with the pope to repent of his comments and he asked all Catholics to pray for the pope’s conversion back to the Catholic faith. Clearly, the pope’s comments are causing great consternation and even confusion throughout the Catholic community and worldwide. Perhaps a few facts will help dissipate some of the fog of fiction clouding this issue.

First, in a recent October 24 “America” magazine article, it was clear the pope had made his comments about recognizing “civil unions” not while he has been the pope, but while he was archbishop of Buenos Aires, Argentina. Obviously, what you say as an archbishop is very important, but not nearly as weighty as what words you utter as the successor of St. Peter. So, keep that in mind: the pope as pope, with his full authority as the Vicar of Christ, was not advocating for civil unions, much less a change in Church teaching on marriage, even though the documentary film portrayed it that way.

Secondly, the older I get and look back at my own personal history, with all its ups and downs, the more I appreciate the history of the Church, with all our communal ups and downs. I was recently reading about the disagreement between Pope St. Zosimus and St. Augustine in the 5th century. Pope Zosimus seemed a little soft on the Pelagian heresy that questioned if we really needed grace to do good works, and St. Augustine had to set the Catholic record straight. By the way, that is exactly why St. Augustine is called the “Doctor of Grace” because he defended the Church’s true teaching on the need for grace to do anything good. My point is that over the 2,000 year history of the Church there have been disagreements between popes and bishops; it has not always been a smooth road. But in the long-run the Holy Spirit is still guiding the Church down the ages.

Third, always consider the source of your information about current events. We sometimes naively think news outlets report the plain and simple truth, just the facts. We overlook the fact that people may have an agenda, and we are more liable to overlook their agenda because it happens to agree with our own agenda. Whoever agrees with what I think must be telling the truth, and everything else is “fake news.” Remember the news business is still a "business" and their objective is to make money (like all good businesses should), so they report the news in a way that will make you want to read more news. Fiction is far more entertaining than fact.

So, in summary, I think all the controversy over the pope’s comments – really the archbishop’s comments – is “much ado about nothing.” The Holy Spirit is still driving the bus. So, sit back, look out the window, and enjoy the ride.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Our First Freedom

Promoting religious liberty and Catholic schools

10/25/2020

Today we arrive at our last but not least political topic prior to the election on November 3 – thanks be to God! Literally “thanks be to God” because we end with the twin topics of “religious liberty” and “Catholic schools,” two subjects soaked through and through with the sacred. The United States Catholic bishops, in their document “Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship,” wrote: “US policy should promote religious liberty vigorously, both at home and abroad: our first and most cherished freedom is rooted in the very dignity of the human person, a fundamental human right that knows no geographical boundaries.” In other words, even more “unalienable” than the right to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” is the right to worship God according to one’s conscience. Religious liberty is our first freedom.

But not everyone cares that much about religious liberty or for that matter about religion itself. I heard about one scientist from an Ivy League university who decided to put God to the test recently. He said sarcastically: “Listen God – if you even exist – we have decided we don’t need you anymore. What you did in the past we can do better in the present. These days we can clone people, transplant organs, travel to other planets and many other things people previously thought were miracles.” To his shock and surprise, a booming voice came from the clouds: “If you believe you do not need me, let’s put your theory to the test. Let’s have a competition to see who can create a human being.” The stunned scientist quickly collected himself and agreed to the test. God declared they should do it like he did in the old days when he created Adam in the book of Genesis. “Fine,” said the scientist with a scoff. He bent down to scoop up a handful of dirt. But God said suddenly: “Stop! Get your own dirt.”

Sometimes you have to do a little digging in the dirt before you discover how much you need God. Paul Tillich, the 20th century philosopher of religion called God “the ground of being,” that is, God is the Ground we stand on, indeed, the Ground everything stands on. But just like we easily ignore the dirt and ground we walk on – sometimes even shaking the dust from our feet like modern science – so we can take God and religion for granted. As a consequence, we miss how religious liberty is “our first freedom.”

The Catholic bishops explain the importance of protecting religious liberty using these terms: “In the United States, religious freedom generally enjoys strong protection in our law and culture, but these protections are now in doubt.” The bishops give a concrete example, adding: “The long-standing tax-exemption of the Church has been explicitly called into question at the highest levels of government precisely because of her teaching on marriage.” Now, I agree that losing our tax-exempt status presents a real risk. But I believe a bigger risk is when we “exempt God” from daily life; when we think like the Ivy League scientist who scoffs he no longer needs God. In other words, we should protect religious liberty not because it is being attacked by atheists from the outside, but because it is being attacked by apathy from the inside. As the Pogo cartoon strip said: “We have met the enemy and the enemy is us.” The real enemy of religious liberty is not atheism but apathy.

Have you heard of the analogy of the frog in boiling water? If you put a frog into a pot of boiling water, it will naturally jump out. The water is too hot. But, if you put a frog into a pot of lukewarm water, and slowly raise the temperature very incrementally, the frog will not notice the gradually rising heat and will happily boil to death. I am convinced that modern-day Christians are like that frog and our modern culture is turning up the heat, one degree at a time, We don’t notice how our priorities are slowly changing so that God is no longer our greatest concern. We passionately protect our “freedom of speech,” our “freedom of the press,” our “freedom of assembly,” and ignore our “freedom of religion.” For many Americans Christians, religious liberty is not our first freedom; it is our last freedom.

When we see that the true threat to religious liberty emerges from the inside and not from the outside, we can also catch why Catholic schools are so critical, and also why they struggle to stay open, like St. Boniface here in Fort Smith that closed two years ago. It is not atheism that closes Catholic schools, but apathy. The bishops insisted: “Parents – the first and most important educators – have a fundamental right to choose the education best suited to the needs of their children, including public, private and religious schools.” In other words, schools are an extension of the educational responsibility that rests on the shoulders of parents; hence they should have the freedom of school choice. The real reason Catholic schools are critical is because when religion is rooted in the school curriculum, it eventually blossoms in the culture of future generations of Americans.

I will forever be grateful to Catholic schools for my priestly vocation. Through countless Masses – yes, I slept through many homilies – uncomfortable confessions, rosaries and May Crowning’s, Lenten Stations of the Cross, Friday fish sticks and cheese pizza, and the example of humble, holy priests, something finally clicked in me. What clicked? Catholic schools taught me there is more to life than meets the eye, because ultimately there is more to me than meets the eye. Catholic schools taught me I have a soul, a spiritual wellspring from which the rest of me is watered and grows. And that soul was a gift from God. When I realized that, I wanted to give that soul – and the rest of me – as a gift back to God, and so I became a priest. That is how Catholic schools taught me that religion is relevant and how religious liberty is our first freedom. That soul is something the scientist cannot see.

We have now touched on eight topics that every Catholic Christian should ponder before the presidential election. They are: (1) abortion and prolife, (2) racism, (3) marriage and LGBTQ community, (4) immigration, (5) the environment, (6) healthcare, (7) global solidarity, and last but not least, (8) religious liberty and Catholic schools. My homilies were not intended to unravel the tight knots of these issues, but only to help your conscience to see them under a spiritual light, the light of faith. The Catechism of the Catholic Church beautifully describes “conscience,” stating: “For man has in his heart a law inscribed by God…His conscience is man’s most secret core and his sanctuary. There he is alone with God whose voice echoes in his depths.” In other words, first form your conscience by prayer and study, and then obey the voice of your conscience when you vote. By the way, do you know which paragraph number describes conscience in the Catechism? It is number 1776, the year the United States became a nation. How blessed we are to live in a country that lets us live by our conscience. That is not a co-incidence; that is a God-incidence. And the scientist might have missed that, too.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Cold Calculation

Making the spiritual a priority over the material

10/19/2020

Luke 12:13-21 Someone in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, tell my brother to share the inheritance with me.” He replied to him, “Friend, who appointed me as your judge and arbitrator?” Then he said to the crowd, “Take care to guard against all greed, for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.” Then he told them a parable. “There was a rich man whose land produced a bountiful harvest. He asked himself, ‘What shall I do, for I do not have space to store my harvest?’ And he said, ‘This is what I shall do: I shall tear down my barns and build larger ones. There I shall store all my grain and other goods and I shall say to myself, “Now as for you, you have so many good things stored up for many years, rest, eat, drink, be merry!”’ But God said to him, ‘You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong?’ Thus will it be for the one who stores up treasure for himself but is not rich in what matters to God.”

Quite frequently people ask me, “Fr. John, why did you decide to become a priest?” I am always amazed by that question because once you understand what a priest is and what a priest does, the real question people should ask is, “Why would someone NOT want to be a priest?” Still, the original question is a good one, and I explain that part of my path to the priesthood consisted of a cold calculation. As a teenager I wanted to help people, and it seemed to me there are two basic ways to help others, namely, materially, by giving them food, shelter and clothing, like helping those folks standing on the street corner asking for material help.

On the other hand, you can help people spiritually by teaching them about Jesus, showing them love, joy, hope and peace in the Bible, and ultimately, giving them the grace of God in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist. As I weighed these two ways to help people, both of which are good and important, I asked a further question: Which need lasts longer? Our material needs only last as long as we are kicking up dust on this earth, 80, 90 or 100 years. But our spiritual needs are eternal. We will always hunger and thirst for Jesus’ love. And clearly the vocation which is dedicated to bringing the best of the spiritual life to people is the Catholic priesthood. If all the people who help others spiritually are feeding others spiritual fare, then the Catholic priest is the gourmet chef, preparing the exquisite Eucharist.

Both the scriptures we read and the saints we venerate today invite us to make this cold calculation as well. That is, we should see how the spiritual outweighs the material, even though both are important. You keep bringing this poor priest dinner and I will keep feeding you with the Bread of Angels. In the gospel, a man asks Jesus to take sides in his dispute over an inheritance. Jesus answers him (and us): “Take care to guard against all greed, for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.” In other words, do not be so laser focused on material well-being that you forget your spiritual well-being.

St. Isaac Jogues, who came to evangelize the Native Iroquois and Huron Indians in Canada, had a burning desire to help people spiritually more than materially. Maybe that cold calculation is how he discerned his priestly vocation as a young man. He wrote in his diary these passionate lines: “My God it grieves me greatly that you are not known, that in this savage wilderness all have not been converted to you, that sin has not be driven from it.” Then St. Jogues adds this stirring line willing to die for Jesus: “My God, even if all the brutal tortures which prisoners in this region must endure should fall on me, I offer myself most willingly to them and I alone shall suffer them all.” In other words, St. Isaac Jogues, Jean de Brebeuf and their companions valued spiritual goods so highly they were willing to be entirely deprived of material goods, indeed, they were ready to be martyrs. The Christian life often consists of a cold calculation, a weighing of two goods, material and spiritual, and seeing which weighs more on the scales of eternity.

Let me draw one quick practical lesson from the foregoing reflection. I believe this is the primary reason that many bishops throughout the country have asked Catholics to return to Mass every Sunday, even in the face of the continuing pandemic of the coronavirus. Obviously, we need to be careful and practice all the safety protocols of wearing masks, washing hands, and keeping social distance. But at the same time we should not prize and value our earthly life so highly that we are willing to sacrifice eternal life. I fear that the longer people stay away from the sacraments, they more they lose their spiritual appetite for the gourmet meal of the Mass. There are people I have not seen at Mass since mid-March. Our Catholics are starving spiritually more than those people standing on the street corners holding signs asking for material help. When you miss Mass, you make a bad miscalculation.

Sometimes the Christian life consists in a cold calculation, a weighing of material and spiritual goods, and seeing which weighs more on the scales of eternity. So, from now on, don’t ask the question, “Fr. John, why did you become a priest?” Rather ask, “Why would anyone NOT want to become a priest?”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Knights and Damsels

Seeing the U.S. as giver and receiver of global solidarity

10/18/2020

Can you handle yet another homily on politics? Don’t worry, only two more to go. My preaching today will not be “political” as much as it will be “historical.” What does that mean? Well, I believe the best way to approach the subject of “global solidarity” is historically, that is, to see how often in the past other nations have come to the assistance of the United States, as well as us helping them. Solidarity, in other words, is not a one-way street. The United States has not only been the “benefactor” of global solidarity (the givers), we have frequently been its “beneficiary” (the recipients). At times we have been the “knight in shining armor,” while at other times we have been the “damsel in distress.”

Today’s homily is the seventh in a series of eight homilies dealing with difficult political issues prior to the presidential election. I have tried to provide a spiritual perspective as we have consider six topics so far, namely, (1) abortion and prolife, (2) racism, (3) marriage and the LGBTQ community, (4) immigration, (5) the environment, and (6) healthcare. Today we turn our attention to “global solidarity.” The United States Catholic bishops, in their document “Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship” wrote this: “The increasing interconnectedness of our world calls for a moral response, the virtue of solidarity.” They continue: “The United States has the responsibility to take the lead in addressing the scandal of poverty and underdevelopment. Our nation should help humanize globalization addressing its negative consequences and spreading its benefits, especially among the world’s poor” (Forming Consciences, 90).

If I may be so bold as to slightly correct our bishops, this “interconnectedness” is not as new or recent as they allege. Rather, “interconnectedness” (I prefer interdependence) has determined human history from its outset. Adam and Eve’s original sin trickles down to us and deprives us of grace. We depended on our first parents, and suffer for their sins, just as children suffer for the sins of their parents today. John Donne, the 17th century English poet, expressed global solidarity in his memorable “Meditation 17,” writing: “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less…any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.” The phrase “no man is an island” is a visual and vivid way of saying “global solidarity.”

I would like to describe global solidarity with the images of “knight in shining armor” and “damsel in distress.” The Catholic bishops of our country are asking the United States to be the knight in shining armor – a hero on the world stage – because much of the world today is suffering as the damsel in distress. When we look back at our history, however, we see how we have played the role of the damsel in distress as well, when we needed someone to save us. When we see how we depended on others yesterday, we can help those who depend on us today.

I am convinced that world wars have a way of showcasing mutual dependence among nations; wars are all about knights and damsels. I would like to outline briefly four wars in which we depended desperately on the aid and armies of other nations, and how they direly depended on us. World wars prove that, just like no man is an island, so no nation is an island either. Our first war was the Revolutionary War or the “War of Independence,” because we sought our independence from Great Britain. But war of “independence” is a misleading name because we were very much “dependent” on France and Spain to help us. We would not have gained our “independence” from Great Britain without our “dependence” on our allies and their armies. During the American Revolution, we were the “damsel in distress,” France and Germany were our “knights in shining armor.”

The two “great wars” were World War I and World War II, both of which you will remember the United States entered reluctantly. We didn’t want to be the hero, we wanted to stay home. In World War I, we fought alongside soldiers from England, France, Russia, Italy and Japan. In World War II our allies were Great Britain, Russia and China against Germany and Japan. In the two World Wars, therefore, the United States wore the mantle of the “knight in shining armor” saving Europe and Asia, the two “damsels in distress.” Japanese Admiral Yamamoto foresaw and feared American power and predicted: “I fear we have awakened a sleeping giant and filled him with a terrible resolve.” The U.S. bishops would like to awaken Americans today who are asleep to the plight of the poor around the world and fill us with the terrible resolve of “global solidarity,” and rescue modern-day damsels in distress.

The fourth war was the complicated “Cold War” that was fought on many fronts, most notably in Korea and Vietnam. In other words, we tried to rescue the democracy-loving people of Korea and Vietnam from Communist rule, but sadly saw only limited success. The knight does not always save the damsel. Today, North Korea is Communist and South Korea is a Democracy, one people and one peninsula divided by the 38thparallel. All of Vietnam is a Communist country. By the way, that is one reason so many Vietnamese fled their home after the fall of Siagon in 1975. Many even settled in Fort Smith. Sometimes the damsel in distress marries the knight in shining armor. Wars are all about knights and damsels.

May I share a note from my personal history? My family came to the United States 45 years ago, and we were definitely the “damsel in distress,” looking for a better life and brighter future. My parents sacrificed to send three children to Catholic schools, put us through college, and now they sponsors poor children in orphanages in India. They send money every year to a little girl named “Annie,” and she writes back with letters and sends pictures. I have pretty great parents, don’t I? But did you see what my parents did? They came as the damsel in distress, but now they help others as the knight in shining armor. They have accepted their role as “heroes” on the world’s stage.

The Catholic bishops summarize the notion of “global solidarity” stating: “Defending human life, building peace, combating poverty and despair, and protecting freedom and human rights are not only moral imperatives – they are wise national priorities that will make our nation and world safer” (Forming Consciences, 90). Why do we share global responsibility for one another? Because sometimes you are the “knight” and sometimes you are the “damsel.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Healthy Healthcare

Understanding Catholic criteria for healthcare reform

10/11/2020

Can you believe we have already talked about five touchy topics as the presidential election looms large before us? Those topics were: (1) abortion and prolife, (2) racism, (3) marriage and the LGBTQ community, (4) immigration, and (5) the environment. In each homily I tried to advance the argument not by picking a political party or siding with a certain candidate, but by looking at the subject more spiritually, gazing through the eyes of faith. How should Catholic Christians consider these hot-button issues? In this sixth homily we turn our attention to the reform of healthcare.

Let me start with the story about the founding of a local Catholic hospital here in Fort Smith by the Sisters of Mercy. In 1853, Sr. Mary Theresa Farrell – by the way her bronze statue stands right outside our church in Gateway Park – led three other sisters from Ireland up the Arkansas River by steamboat. They immediately undertook the task of educating the poor and caring for the sick, a school and a hospital. During the Civil War, they did not ask if a sick soldier was from the North or from the South of the Mason Dixon Line, but cared for all regardless of uniform. The sisters saluted the wearer, not the uniform.

In 1905, that rich heritage of healthcare blossomed when they opened St. Edward Infirmary. But before they could break ground, they needed the blessing of the bishop. So, they promised him they would name the hospital for him if he gave them permission. Bishop Edward Fitzgerald was more than happy to oblige, and hence it was called St. Edward Hospital. They say it’s better to be lucky than good, but when you are an Irish nun, you’re both. St. Edward’s Hospital, like all Catholic hospitals, embodied everything that should be included in truly healthy healthcare.

You might remember in 2017 the United States Congress was debating either curtailing or entirely canceling the Affordable Care Act, commonly known as “Obamacare.” The Catholic bishops of our country wrote a letter to both the Senate and the House of Representatives outlining five principles that our elected officials should bear in mind and put into practice in order to reform healthcare. These five principles are applied robustly in Catholic hospitals, and we pray for their fuller implementation in healthcare throughout our country. What are these five principles of healthcare reform?

First, government sponsored healthcare should “respect human life and dignity.” The bishops state categorically: “The Bishops of the United States continue to reject the inclusion of abortion as part of a national healthcare benefit.” In other words, our tax dollars should not be used to fund abortions. Why not? Well, if public funds are funneled to abortions, then the taxpayer becomes “materially complicit” in the abortion, because we provide the material means to make the abortions possible. Now, the individual taxpayer may not be guilty of a grave sin, as long as he or she does not directly intend to pay taxes to provide abortions. Nonetheless, our tax dollars have created what the Catechism of the Catholic Church calls “structures of sin” that “lead their victims to do evil in their own turn” (Catechism, 1369). Put simply, the Catholic bishops are strongly opposed to healthcare that creates “structures of sin” that cause abortions.

The second principle the bishops urge is “honoring conscience rights.” They explain further: “Congress should expressly provide conscience protections as part of any healthcare plan for those who participate in the delivery or coverage of healthcare services.” Do you recall the “Hippocratic Oath” doctors take upon graduating from medical school? Part of that oath reads: “I will do no harm or injustice to [my patients]. Neither will I administer a poison to anybody when asked to do so, nor will I suggest such a course. Similarly, I will not give to a woman a pessary to cause abortion.” And now you know what a “pessary” is: it causes an abortion. The Hippocratic Oath was intended to strengthen a doctor’s conscience when they provided healthcare. Indeed, it was an oath they made to God. The U.S. bishops are asking Congress not to deaden that conscience but rather to defend it.

The third principle is “accessibility,” which the bishops articulate saying: “Healthcare is not a privilege, but a right and a requirement to protect the life and dignity of every person.” The bishops also add: “We have a responsibility to ensure that no one is left without the ability to see a doctor or get emergency care when needed.” This third principle reminds me of those courageous and self-sacrificing Sisters of Mercy who provided healthcare to all patients, Union soldiers as well as Confederate soldiers. Notice the sisters did not care what side of the border a patient was from in the Civil War – even though we were briefly two different countries: the United States of America and the Confederate States of America, which existed from 1861 to 1863. Likewise, the bishops beseech Congress to pass healthcare reform that allows hospitals and doctors to heal everyone without exception. Accessible means available to all.

The bishops describe the fourth principle as “affordability.” They write: “Many lower income families simply lack the resources to meet their healthcare expenses.” They continue: “For these families, substantial premiums and cost-sharing charges can serve as barriers to obtaining coverage or seeing a doctor.” This fourth principle of “affordability” sounds very similar to the previous principle of “accessibility” but they are distinct. Accessibility addresses discrimination, while affordability addresses destitution. The bishops are only asking us to follow the healing example of Jesus himself. In the gospel of Luke – who, by the way, was himself a physician – we read: “All those who had any that were sick with various diseases brought them to him; and he laid his hands on every one of them and healed them” (Lk. 4:40). Jesus healing ministry was always “accessible” and “affordable” and he is therefore the model of all healthy healthcare.

The fifth principle is perhaps the loftiest goal of all, but still necessary, namely, healthcare should be “comprehensive and high quality.” Our Catholic prelates persist: “Healthcare is much more than mere insurance.” They continue: “Limited access to minimal healthcare, particularly for poor and vulnerable people, including the undocumented, is not enough.” What does that mean? We are blessed to have several doctors here at Immaculate Conception Church. A couple of times when I was sick, they happily healed me. Several times at Mass, people have passed out (I think the deacons were preaching) and the doctors sprang into action, jumping over pews to get to the person first. Before the pandemic, we went to Honduras on mission trips, and our doctors gladly gave of their time, talent and treasure to heal the sick. I am so proud of all our doctors who provide “maximal” healthcare, not "minimal."

My friends, healthcare reform is not a simple issue with easy answers. But the Sisters of Mercy sure made it look easy when they arrived in Fort Smith over 150 years ago and cared for the sick. Those Sisters’ healthcare was truly “healthy” because it met all five principles the bishops enunciated: (1) they respected human life and dignity, (2) they honored the rights of conscience, (3) their care was accessible, (4) their care was affordable, and (5) their care was comprehensive and high quality. The bishops conclude their letter saying: “Our aim and our prayer is that this perspective will help make clear the likely impacts of the decisions you are about to debate in Congress.” And as I conclude this homily, it is my aim and my prayer that this homily will help make clear the likely impact of your vote this November.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Priest Friends

Cherishing friends during the pandemic

10/06/2020

Luke 10:38-42 Jesus entered a village where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him. She had a sister named Mary who sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak. Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.” The Lord said to her in reply, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her.”

One of life’s greatest pleasures that a priest rarely enjoys is close friendship, and that for a number of reasons. First and foremost, it is because most priests do not get married, so we do not enjoy the friendship and intimacy of a spouse. But that also has the beautiful blessing of keeping priests close to their mothers. Why? Simple: a priest’s mother does not have to compete with a daughter-in-law. Keep that in mind, mom, if your son starts thinking about being a priest. Priests are close to their mothers like Jesus was close to Mary.

Another cause of the lack of close companionship for priests is because we are moved from parish to parish, sometimes frequently. We hesitate, therefore, to get too close to people for fear we will have to leave them soon. Priest tend to keep people at arm’s length. And a third reason it is hard to be a priest’s friend is because he is a mystery to himself and therefore to others as well. A priest is neither fish nor fowl; he is in the world but not of the world; he is celibate but married to the Church. Archbishop Fulton Sheen characterized this conundrum saying: “It has been said of priests that, if they shoot golf under 80, there is something wrong with their priesthood; if they shoot golf over 80, there is something wrong with their golf.” A priest’s life is perfectly summarized by that ironic adage: “you cannot win for losing.” A priest is a sort of square circle, and it’s hard to be best friends with an enigma.

This is why Jesus’ close friendship with Martha, Mary and Lazarus was so remarkable and rare. These three siblings were best friends with the Eternal Enigma. Today’s gospel from Luke 10 shows one of the many instances Jesus visits his close friends Martha and Mary in Bethany, a small town about two miles east of Jerusalem. On this occasion in Luke 10, Jesus seems to scold Martha and praise Mary for “choosing the better part.” But this was not the only time our Lord lounged in Bethany.

In John 11, Jesus visits Martha and Mary shortly after Lazarus has died and performs the mighty miracle of raising their brother from the dead. But shockingly, even scandalously, do you recall how Jesus waited for Lazarus to die before he arrived in Bethany? We read in John 11:6, “So, when [Jesus] heard that [Lazarus] was ill, he remained for two days in the place where he was.” No wonder it’s hard to be best friends with a priest – sometimes they don’t show up until after your brother dies! The last time Jesus visits Bethany, with Lazarus redivivus present, was before his last Passover. On that occasion Mary took a jar of perfumed oil and anointed Jesus’ feet preparing him for his death and burial. It is hard to be best friends with a priest, especially when it is time to say goodbye to him.

My friends, one of the things this pandemic has highlighted is how precious close friends are. Many people have been stuck at home and unable to visit family and friends like they used to. Absence has made the heart grow fonder and taught us how much we need our friends, who add meaning and magic to our lives. We miss dinners together, tail-gaiting before games, camping with friends, etc. As you try to connect with family and friends, try to reach out to your priest friends as well. Maybe you are blessed to be like a modern-day Bethany for some modern-day priest, where he can come and rest from his apostolic activities.

But remember, he may not always come when you call him, even if your brother is deathly sick. A priest is a mystery to others because he is a mystery to himself. It’s hard to be best friends with an enigma. The main thing you have to keep an eye on is if his golf game is getting too good.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Who You Trust

Becoming child-like and trusting in God

10/05/2020

Matthew 11:25-30 - At that time Jesus exclaimed: “I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him. “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

Everyone loves babies and small children, and babies, in turn, bring out the best in us. If you post a cute picture of your chubby baby with their fat rolls on Facebook, you immediately get 100 “likes,” and caring compliments. They also bring out the best in us because we know instinctively how vulnerable children are so our desire to provide for and protect them surges in our hearts. Dr. Janet Smith, a professor I had at the University of Dallas, calls having a baby “induced maturity.” Almost overnight new parents become more kind and patient and hard-working.

This is one reason why abortion is so abhorrent. Fear flattens all these good and godly instincts as we put ourselves above protecting the defenseless baby in the womb. Babies have to put their total trust in us adults, and abortion viciously violates that trust. Babies teach us to be more trusting; Satan teaches us to be more selfish.

In the gospel today, Jesus is also irresistibly drawn to the child-like. He exclaims: “I give praise to your Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike.” What precisely has God revealed to the “childlike” and hidden from “the learned and the wise”? Well, we see it every time we gaze at a picture of a vulnerable, defenseless baby or small child, namely, trust. Children trust in adults and ultimately they trust in God because they have to; adults, on the other hand, too often just trust in ourselves. We trust in our smarts, we trust in our money, we trust in our good-looks, we trust in our strength, and the last One we truly trust is God himself.

But when young parents have their own baby, they discover their own need for God, in a word, they experience “induced maturity.” That is the point when many young Catholics start to go back to church. They may still not be entirely convinced they themselves need God, but at least they can see their baby needs God in his or her life, and they are back on the right road. Eventually, we all learn that we could not raise our little pinky finger without the help of God. Total trust in God is what is revealed to the childlike and hidden from the learned and the wise.

October 5 is the feast of St. Faustina Kowalska, a Polish nun who promoted the devotion to the Divine Mercy. In 1931, while praying in her convent cell, Jesus appeared to her wearing a white tunic and with red and pale blue rays coming from his heart. He said to her: “Paint an image according to the pattern you see, with the signature ‘Jesus, I trust in you’.” Jesus continued: “I desire that this image be venerated, first in your chapel, and then throughout the world. I promise that the soul that will venerate this image will not perish.”

That image was unfurled on the fascade of St. Peter’s Basilica for all the world to see and venerate on April 30, 2000 when Sr. Faustina was canonized a saint by Pope St. John Paul II, who you will recall was himself from Poland. If you want to become a saint, “it’s not what you know, but who you know.” And all the saints know Jesus, and more importantly, the saints trust in Jesus. Why? Because all the saints have learned to be like little children, indeed babies, who are vulnerable and defenseless, and so put their total trust in Jesus.

My friends, on the feast of St. Faustina, we should ask ourselves: who do I trust? The currency of our country says: “In God we trust.” But is our real trust in our money or in our Maker? Perhaps we should ponder why we are attracted so irresistibly to those pictures of chubby babies on Facebook. Maybe they can teach us to trust in Jesus, like St. Faustina did. Because at the end of our lives, it will not matter what you know, but only who you know, and more precisely, who you trust.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Our Religious Duty

Caring for creation as the macro Temple

October 4, 2020

            We have now crossed the mid-way point in our Sunday sermon series to prepare for the presidential election. Today we explore the environment, that is, the world we live in, or as Pope Francis like to call it, “our common home.” We have already addressed four topics: (1) abortion and prolife, (2) racism, (3) marriage and the LGBTQ community, and (4) immigration. If you missed the previous homilies, you can either read the text or listen to the audio on the I.C. Church website. They are under the slightly misleading title, “Fr. John’s Voting Guide.” Of course, I do not tell you whom to vote for, but only help you to think more seriously about these subjects from a spiritual perspective.

Recently, I have been reading a book called The Catholic Introduction to the Bible: Old Testament written by John Bergsma and Brant Pitre. That is a long title, so I prefer the acronym the “CITBOT.” In explaining the creation story of Genesis 1, Bergsma and Pitre suggest that Genesis’ primary purpose is not to answer scientific questions, like how old the earth is, or are evolution and creation compatible, etc. Rather, the ancient author deliberately describes the cosmos as a “macro temple.” What does that mean?

Imagine the church building you are sitting in right now as if it were the size of the whole universe and included the cosmos. Or, put the other way around, imagine the church you are in as a micro cosmos (a microcosm), as if the whole universe could fit inside this church. The CITBOT insist: “It becomes apparent that the sacred author has composed an elegantly balanced temple-building account that points to the liturgical orientation of creation” (CITBOT, 96). In other words, Genesis envisions the creation of the world as the construction of a massive macro temple, as God’s house. Remember when Jesus ran the money-changers out of Jerusalem Temple and said: “You shall not make my Father’s house a house of trade” (Jn. 2:16)? Jesus knows that the whole cosmos is God’s house, but so is the Temple. The two terms are virtually interchangeable. The cosmos is the “macro temple,” the Temple is the “micro cosmos.”

Genesis’ description of the universe as a “macro temple” carries a crucial consequence for human beings, namely, people are created as “priests” of the temple. Bergsma and Pitre assert: “Genesis is also depicting Adam as a priestly figure, commissioned to serve in Eden, the primordial garden-sanctuary” (CITBOT, 103). Did you catch that? Adam and Eve are “priestly figures.” So, if the cosmos is a temple, and people are the priests, then what do you think our job is as priestly figures? Our job is to care for the temple and ultimately to worship God in the Temple. The CITBOT concludes the creation story saying: “All things culminate on the seventh day, the Sabbath: the day of divine rest, the fundamental day of worship in Israel’s later liturgical calendar” (CITBOT, 98). In other words, the main message of Genesis is threefold: (1) the cosmos is a church, (2) the people are the priests, and (3) our work is to worship.

What does all this have to do with the environment? Well, I am convinced that the best way to understand how human beings interact with the environment is as priests taking care of a temple. No one would dispute that part of my job as pastor of Immaculate Conception Church and Our Lady of the Ozarks is to ensure the beauty of these magnificent churches. It is also my task to turn it over to the next pastor in better shape than I found it. That is why the U.S. bishops, in their document “Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship,” wrote: “Protecting the land, water, and air we share is a religious duty of stewardship and reflects our responsibility to born and unborn children” (“Forming Consciences,” no. 86). Notice how they describe care of the earth as a “religious duty.” Why do we care for the environment? Because according to Genesis God created human beings as “priestly figures” who have a religious duty to care for the temple, the cosmos God constructed in Genesis.

The creation story of Genesis radically reframes the conversation about caring for the environment. For example, the reason we care deeply about the forest fires (and its real root causes) in California, Oregon and Washington is because we are priests of this macro temple of the world. The reason we worry about rising ocean levels and floods that threaten people who live along shorelines, especially the poor, is because we are priests protecting this earthly sanctuary. The reason we reduce greenhouse gasses, conserve and renew energy, and recycle and reuse as much as possible is because we are pastors keeping this cosmic temple clean for ourselves and for the pastors who come after us.

To blithely blow off the world around us, or to fail to care for the environment would be like me saying that I do not care if the church roof was leaking, the plaster walls were cracking and peeling, the carpet was stained and molding, and the heat and air were not working. What would happen if I adopted that attitude toward the church? The bishop would send me on a long sabbatical until I learned not to be derelict in my “religious duty” to care for the temple. Likewise, our caring for the environment is not merely an “economic question” so we can exploit the earth to make more money, or just a political hot-button issue to win votes, or a simple liberal or conservative label so we see who is on our side. It goes back to the creation of the world, and our God-given roles as priestly figures with a religious duty that cannot be shirked.

I am so proud of my niece Sophia, who is studying at the University of Georgia (don’t hold that against her). Her major is “environmental economics and management.” Of course I had no idea what that means, so she explained it to me saying: “Living in Arkansas we are surrounded by so much natural beauty. But I’ve traveled to places that lack that same beauty. I really want to help preserve the beauty of our natural world for generations to come.” When you listen carefully to my niece’s comments, with the creation story of Genesis in the background, she sounds a lot like she is fulfilling her “religious duty” to care for creation. From the perspective of Genesis, Sophia makes a better priestly figure than I do.

Once again I hope that this homily falls far short in telling you who to vote for. But I hope it did not fall too far short in helping you appreciate that this world is a “macro temple” in which we are placed as “priestly figures” given the charge of its care. Perhaps no one in the history of the world grasped that primordial purpose described by Genesis better than St. Francis of Assisi. Pope Francis – who took St. Francis as his papal patron – wrote about a curious custom St. Francis had, explaining: “Francis asked that part of the friary garden always be left untouched, so that wild flowers and herbs could grow there, and those who saw them could raise their minds to God, the Creator of such beauty” (Laudato Sí, no. 12). Maybe seeing the wild flowers and herbs touched only by the hand of God made Francis feel a little more like ancient Adam in the Garden of Eden, that original priestly figure faithfully fulfilling his religious duty to care for the environment.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Shark Week

Moving from Job’s week to Jesus’ week

 09/28/2020

Job 1:6-22 One day, when the angels of God came to present themselves before the LORD, Satan also came among them. And the LORD said to Satan, “Whence do you come?” Then Satan answered the LORD and said, “From roaming the earth and patrolling it.” And the LORD said to Satan, “Have you noticed my servant Job, and that there is no one on earth like him, blameless and upright, fearing God and avoiding evil?” But Satan answered the LORD and said, “Is it for nothing that Job is God-fearing? Have you not surrounded him and his family and all that he has with your protection? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his livestock are spread over the land. But now put forth your hand and touch anything that he has, and surely he will blaspheme you to your face.” And the LORD said to Satan, “Behold, all that he has is in your power; only do not lay a hand upon his person.” So Satan went forth from the presence of the LORD.

This week we begin what we might call “Job Week.” That is kind of like “Shark Week” on the Disney Channel, where every day you see a new episode about the life of sharks. This week features the book of the Bible called “Job” named for its chief protagonist, the righteous man, who is not even identified as a “Jew,” he could just as well be a “pagan,” a non-Israelite. In other words, “Job” represents “everyman” or “everywoman.”

Today’s reading is Job 1:6-22. Tomorrow is the feast of the Archangels, so we take a break from Job and read Daniel 7 or Revelation 12. Wednesday we return to Job and hear from Job 9:1-12, 14-16. Thursday we skip ahead ten chapters to Job 19:21-27. Friday we dip into two chapters, Job 38:1-2, and 40:3-5. And finally Saturday we conclude “Job Week” with the climax of the book in Job 42:1-3, 5-6, 12-17, where Job’s faithfulness in the face of suffering is richly rewarded with even more family and fortune than he had before his great trial.

If you want to read a modern-day rendition of the book of Job, I don’t think you will find anything better than Rabbi Harold Kushner’s classic book called When Bad Things Happen to Good People. Rabbi Kushner experienced his own “Job Week” when he learned his three year-old son was diagnosed with a degenerative disease that meant the boy would only live into his early teens. Kushner wrote the book as an exploration into the suffering of the innocent (like the suffering of Job) touching on his own pain and that of his Jewish congregation. The book of Job and the book of Kushner are both well worth reading.

I would, however, caution Christians who read these two books because of two glaring deficiencies, at least from a Christian perspective. First, both Job and Kushner – being true to the spirit of the Old Testament – seek a solution to the problem of suffering within the time-frame of earthly life. That is, the question of the suffering of the innocent must have an answer from the time we are born to the time we die. That is why the book of Job ends in chapter 42 with a restoration of Job’s fortunes on earth. Job’s faithfulness for enduring suffering is rewarded in this life. That, of course, is not the Christian view, but we’ll get to that in a moment.

The second deficiency is the lack of understanding that suffering has meaning beyond merely a punishment for sin. That is, suffering has “redemptive value,” a positive meaning. Put succinctly, suffering can save. But if someone’s sense of suffering is subordinated to what good things I will enjoy on earth, then suddenly suffering is emptied of its redemptive value, and is only seen as something to be endured for no other reason than enduring it. The sooner suffering ends the better. Again, I say this with all due respect for both Job and Kushner, but really the whole Old Testament suffers (no pun intended) from a twofold inadequacy: (1) earthly life is everything, and (2) suffering has no spiritual significance.

Fortunately, all that changes dramatically and decisively in the New Testament and the coming of Christ. In a very real sense, Jesus is the “new Job.” How so? Well, Jesus will undergo his own “Job Week” which we call “Passion Week” or “Holy Week,” from Palm Sunday till Easter Sunday. On Palm Sunday Jesus enjoys the company of his disciples and the praise of the people in his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, Jesus is “living large” just like Job at the beginning of his book.

Then, by Good Friday, Jesus has lost everything – friends, family, fortune, and even his clothes – dying naked on a cross. He is accompanied and comforted by three people at the foot of the Cross: his Blessed Mother, his Beloved Disciple, and Mary Magdalene. Again, just like Job had lost all his world goods, and only had the consolation and company of his three friends who draw close to him: Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar in Job 2:11.

                The difference between Jesus and Job, however, is that Jesus’ answer to suffering is not found in this world but in the next, that is, in the Resurrection, which occurred on symbolically and significantly not in one week but on the first day of the next week, not on Saturday (the Sabbath), but on Sunday, the day of the Resurrection, the first day of the next week. Several people have asked me lately why Christians do not observe the Sabbath (Saturday) like the Jews do. The difference between Saturday and Sunday is the difference between the Old Testament and the New Testament.

In other words, to find the answer to why the innocent suffer, we have to go beyond “Job Week” and the confines of the old creation, the seven days of Genesis. We must sort of step into “Jesus Week” which is Sunday, the 8th day, the first day of a new week, indeed of a new creation, not of Genesis but of Christ. In Jesus we discover that the reward of our suffering will be found in heaven (not on earth), and that our earthly pains and problems can be charged with spiritual power, namely, redemptive suffering. And that is why “Job Week” is a lot like “Shark Week.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Faithful not Flawless

Appreciating St. Jerome, doctor of the Church

09/30/2020

Luke 9:57-62 As Jesus and his disciples were proceeding on their journey, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus answered him, “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.” And to another he said, “Follow me.” But he replied, “Lord, let me go first and bury my father.” But he answered him, “Let the dead bury their dead. But you, go and proclaim the Kingdom of God.” And another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but first let me say farewell to my family at home.” Jesus answered him, “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the Kingdom of God.”

Today we celebrate the feast of St. Jerome, a great doctor of the Church. Of course, the term “doctor of the Church” does not carry the meaning we usually use for it of someone who has earned a “Ph.D.” like Dr. Karen Hollenbeck, or is a medical doctor, like Dr. Bill Curry. Rather, a “doctor of the Church” is someone whose teaching and writing have been revered over the centuries of Christianity and extremely helpful in understanding and living the faith. Think about it like this: a Ph.D. doctor helps our minds to be sharper; an M.D. doctor helps our bodies to feel better, so a “doctor of the Church” helps our souls to draw closer to Christ.

One of the main reasons the Church dubbed St. Jerome a “doctor of the Church” is because he translated the Bible, the Old Testament in particular, from Hebrew and Greek into Latin. That translation into Latin was completed around 405 A.D. when virtually everyone in the Roman Empire spoke Latin. Hence, it was called the “Vulgate” because Latin was the “vulgar” language of the common people, not vulgar as in “street slang” or “curse words” but vulgar as in common language that everyone spoke. In fact, the Vulgate was held in such high esteem that in 1563 the Council of Trent declared the Vulgate was the “authoritative” version of the Bible for the Catholic Church. That declaration did not mean Jerome’s translation was flawless but it did mean that it was faithful.

Someone who was not a fan of St. Jerome’s Vulgate translation of the Bible was none other than the mighty St. Augustine, Jerome’s contemporary. St. Augustine is also declared a “doctor of the Church,” and these two doctors disagreed and disputed a lot. Some day in your spare time you should read the heated correspondence between Jerome and Augustine; it is more entertaining than a presidential debate.

Basically, Augustine argued that Jerome should stick to the Greek version of the Old Testament called the “Septuagint,” instead of wandering off into the Hebrew version of the Old Testament. But Jerome held his ground and 1,100 years later, the Council of Trent vindicated his Vulgate. I do not know about you, but it sort of shakes my faith a little to see these spiritual giants of the Church dueling and debating each other, like two great gladiators in the Colosseum exchanging blows. I am left wondering who is right and who is wrong. It is very unnerving, to me at least.

But these saintly gladiator games also have a beneficial effect. It helps me remember that no one person has a corner on the truth, no matter how holy or how wise they might be. Rather, the whole Church – including the popes, bishops, doctors, saints and lay persons – all together constitute the Body of Christ and enjoy infallibility. Of course, the pope has the charism of infallibility in a singular way which he exercises in rare and extraordinary circumstances.

So, I don’t worry too much if St. Jerome did not get everything right in his Vulgate translation. Indeed, later in life, he agreed with Augustine on using the Greek Septuagint. And St. Augustine, at the end of his life, went back and reread all his writings and made corrections of his own errors, which he published in a book called “The Retractions.” Augustine did not get everything exactly right either. The great doctors of the Church were faithful not flawless.

Do you know any Ph.D. doctors who make mistakes and don’t know everything, even in their field of expertise? Have you ever encountered a M.D. doctor who got a diagnosis wrong? Well, the same is true for the great “doctors of the Church,” St. Jerome and St. Augustine. Their wisdom and their folly remind us to put our faith in Jesus alone, and in his Scriptures, and in his Church. We can learn as much from what the saints got right, as what they get wrong.

Praised be Jesus Christ!