Life Finds a Way

Seeking eternal life more than earthly life

03/29/2021

John 12:1-11 Six days before Passover Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. They gave a dinner for him there, and Martha served, while Lazarus was one of those reclining at table with him. Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil made from genuine aromatic nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair; the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil. Then Judas the Iscariot, one of his disciples, and the one who would betray him, said, “Why was this oil not sold for three hundred days’ wages and given to the poor?” He said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief and held the money bag and used to steal the contributions. So Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Let her keep this for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” The large crowd of the Jews found out that he was there and came, not only because of him, but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. And the chief priests plotted to kill Lazarus too, because many of the Jews were turning away and believing in Jesus because of him.

We all long for life, and the longer the life the better. That desire to live is why when we are in a dark room, and trying to find the door, we instinctively stick out our hand. We would rather risk losing a limb than our whole life. We have had funerals lately of parishioners who have lived into their nineties, and yet we are saddened and wish they could have lived longer. But how long is long enough? We might answer: the longer the better! This desire for longer life is woven into the very fabric of the universe.

I will never forget that philosophical exchange in the movie “Jurassic Park,” which summarized the message of the movie. Dr. Ian Malcolm, played by Jeff Goldblum, argues that scientists should not stifle life by creating female-only dinosaurs. He says: “The kind of control you are attempting is not possible. If there’s one thing the history of evolution has taught us it is that life cannot be contained. Life breaks free; it expands to new territory; it crashes through barriers, painfully, maybe even dangerously.” Then he concludes his argument by adding: “Life finds a way.”

Still, we know that no matter how much we extend our life on earth, it will inevitably come to an end. In other words, even deeper than our instinct for earthly life is a small voice that echoes in our hearts urging us to seek eternal life. Somehow we know that even though we were created ON earth, we are meant FOR heaven. The long life we seek will not be found here but in the here-after. Earth is not our natural habitat. Why? Only in heaven will we find the true “habitat for humanity” (sorry to steal that phrase from a very good organization).

In the gospel today, Jesus visits his close friends in Bethany, Mary, Martha and yes even Lazarus, whom Jesus raised from the dead. It is six days before Jesus’ last Passover, which our Lord will transform into his Last Supper. That Supper would be followed by his Sacrifice on the Cross, and three days later with his Resurrection. We don’t know what their intimate conversations consisted of but I cannot help but wonder if their topics sounds a little like that sound clip from Jurassic Park. How so? Lazarus had been given a new lease on life, but poor Lazarus would die again. Mary anointed Jesus body for death and burial, anticipating the loss of our Lord’s life. Did they discuss how we all long for life and yet how long is long enough? Where will we find a true and lasting habitat for humanity?

All these questions would only be answered on Easter Sunday, when Jesus rose from the dead, not to live indefinitely on earth but to open the door to eternal life in heaven. That is why Jesus only stayed on earth for 40 more days, until his Ascension: to teach us that the true “habitat for humanity” is his Father’s House in heaven. That is, our longing for longer life is a good thing, but that longing should not be limited to life on earth. It should be transformed into a desire for eternal life in heaven.

My friends, how long do you want to live? Would 80 years be enough for you? Would 90 years feel a lot better? Would you like to set a new world record for long life by living past 120? By the way, the person who holds the world record for having lived the longest is Jeanne Louise Calment from Arles, France, who died at the age of 122. On her 120th birthday, she was asked what she expected from the future. She replied, “I expect a short one.” In other words, “I’m ready to get out of here!” I bet she also sipped some good French Bordeaux wine to help her live so long.

We, too, are offered the Wine of Eternal Life here at every Mass: the blood of the grape that has been transubstantiated into the Blood of God. This Wine offers us not endless earthly life, but endless heavenly life. Only in heaven will we find our true habitat for humanity and where “life finds a way.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Work of Holy Week

Forgiving our enemies like Jesus did

03/28/2021

Mark 11:1-10 When Jesus and his disciples drew near to Jerusalem, to Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the village opposite you, and immediately on entering it, you will find a colt tethered on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone should say to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ reply, ‘The Master has need of it and will send it back here at once.’” So they went off and found a colt tethered at a gate outside on the street, and they untied it. Some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” They answered them just as Jesus had told them to,and they permitted them to do it. So they brought the colt to Jesus and put their cloaks over it. And he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut from the fields. Those preceding him as well as those following kept crying out: "Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is to come! Hosanna in the highest!”

The preacher’s Sunday sermon was “Forgive Your Enemies.” Toward the end of the service, he asked his congregation, “How many of you have forgiven your enemies?” About half raised their hands. He repeated his question. Since it was now about lunchtime, this time about 80 percent held up their hands. He asked his question a third time and all responded, except one small, elderly lady. The minister inquired, “Mrs. Jones, are you not willing to forgive your enemies?” She smiled sweetly and answered, “I don’t have any.”

The preacher was surprised and said, “That is remarkable! How old are you, if I may ask?” She replied proudly, “I am 93.” The minister said enthusiastically, “Oh, Mrs. Jones, what a blessing and a lesson you are to us all! Would you please come down in front of this congregation and tell us how a person can live 93 years and not have an enemy in the world?” The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation and said, “I outlived all the old hags.” Well, that is one way to deal with your enemies: don’t forgive them, just bury them.

Today we begin Holy Week with Palm Sunday, and Jesus shows us a much better way to deal with our enemies, namely, before we bury them, try to freely forgive them. The Palm Sunday’s long gospel reading gives us a sort of “preview of coming attractions,” and tells us what will transpire on Holy Thursday and Good Friday, but stops short of spoiling the surprise ending of Easter Sunday. And what is really at the heart of Holy Week? It is the forgiveness of our enemies, just like that pastor preached.

At the Last Supper (on Holy Thursday) Jesus said as he held the cup of wine: “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Mt 26:28). Jesus celebrated the Last Supper to forgive sins. And as Jesus hung dying on the Cross (on Good Friday), he prayed, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34). As they drove the nails into his hands, Jesus forgave his enemies. In other words, what makes Holy Week so “holy” is that Jesus does not try to outlive the old hags that were trying to kill him, but he willingly laid down his life for those old hags as a sign of mercy and forgiveness.

Forgiveness was like a rising tidal wave throughout Jesus’ whole life that reached its high-water mark at Holy Week. For instance, in Luke 2 Zechariah prophesies that Jesus would bring “forgiveness of the people’s sins.” In John 1, Zechariah’s son, John the Baptist, saw Jesus across the Jordan and declared like his dad: “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” In John 8, Jesus tells the woman caught in adultery, “Neither do I condemn you; go and do not sin again” In Matthew 18, Peter asks if forgiving 7 times is enough, and Jesus answers: “I do not say to you [forgive] 7 times, but seventy times seven.” In Luke 5, when four friends lower their paralyzed buddy through a roof and place him before Jesus, the first thing Jesus says is: “Son, your sins are forgive you,” and only subsequently does he heal him. More examples are easy to multiply.

This flood of forgiveness finally becomes a tsunami that bursts forth from Jesus’ heart on the Cross when a soldier pierces his side with a lance and water and blood flow forth, symbolizing baptism and the Eucharist, the great sacraments of mercy and forgiveness. In other words, Jesus had handed out piecemeal and person to person his forgiveness, but now on Holy Week, mercy would be available to everyone who has ever lived: past, present or future. That is what makes Holy Week so “holy” – forgiveness is finally available to all.

Folks, we would make a serious spiritual miscalculation if we saw Holy Week as some sort of spectator sport. As if Holy Week is where Jesus suffered and died and we watch safely from the sidelines eating popcorn and sipping our sodas. Rather, Holy Week invites us to carry our cross alongside our Lord. George MacDonald, C. S. Lewis’ mentor, said: “The Son of God suffered unto death, not that men might not suffer, but that their suffering might be like his.” And just as the flood of forgiveness reached its high-water mark for Jesus during Holy Week, so we must likewise forgives our enemies: that is the work of Holy Week for us as well.

Some people say to me: “Fr. John, it must be fun to hear all those juicy sins in confession every week.” But my friends, you, too, hear “juicy sins” every week: the juicy sins of your spouse, and of your children, and of your parents, and of your neighbors, and of your co-workers, and of the Republicans (on CNN), and of the Democrats (on FOX), and on and on. You, too, have a priestly prerogative to forgive other people of their sins, not in sacramental confession of course, but from your heart. Forgiving sins is what made this week holy for Jesus, and forgiving sins is what will make this week holy for you. Don’t sit on the sidelines; get in the game of forgiveness. Christianity is not a spectator sport.

This week try to think of the people who have hurt you in some way. Forgive them from your heart, even if you cannot forgive them in person. Let the flood of forgiveness reach its high-water mark this week for you, just like it did for Jesus. And don’t just try to outlive the old hags.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Delicate Dance

Taking God more seriously than ourselves

03/26/2021

John 10:31-42 The Jews picked up rocks to stone Jesus. Jesus answered them, “I have shown you many good works from my Father. For which of these are you trying to stone me?” The Jews answered him, “We are not stoning you for a good work but for blasphemy. You, a man, are making yourself God.” Jesus answered them, “Is it not written in your law, ‘I said, ‘You are gods”‘? If it calls them gods to whom the word of God came, and Scripture cannot be set aside, can you say that the one whom the Father has consecrated and sent into the world blasphemes because I said, ‘I am the Son of God’? If I do not perform my Father’s works, do not believe me; but if I perform them, even if you do not believe me, believe the works, so that you may realize and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.” Then they tried again to arrest him; but he escaped from their power.

At the heart of Christian spirituality (and even theology) we find a peculiar paradox, a delicate dance, a beautiful balance. On the one hand we must take God very seriously, while on the other hand we must resist the temptation to take ourselves too seriously. What inevitably happens, however? We do not take God seriously enough, and we take our own egos far too seriously. When we cannot maintain this proper paradox, we not only practice poor spirituality we also commit a serious sin. I am convinced that underlying all sinful behavior is the attitude that takes ourselves too seriously and a failure to take God seriously enough.

On the one hand, how do we not take Jesus seriously enough? For instance, when we say he was a “good moral teacher” like Buddha or Mohammed or Confucius. Have you ever heard that, or perhaps even said that? Bishop Robert Barron explained what Jesus meant when he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” He wrote: “Jesus wanted to know what they thought about his identity, his being. And this question sets Jesus off from all of the other great religious founders” (Catholicism, 12). In other words, Jesus did not want his followers to write him off as just another inspired religious leader, but rather to see him as the God-man. That is, Jesus was asking them to take him very seriously.

On the other hand, we must keep our own egos in check, and not let them become overinflated. Bishop Barron wrote a little later: “It has been said that the healthiest spiritual people are those who have the strongest sense of the difference between themselves and God” (Catholicism, 13). In other words, we can laugh at ourselves, and even laugh at our own sins. Christian holiness requires a peculiar paradox, a delicate dance, a beautiful balance: to be able to love God and to laugh at ourselves.

This may help us penetrate the particulate problem for the Pharisees in the gospel today. The Pharisees are so infuriated with Jesus they attempt to stone him. When Jesus asks why, they answer: “We are not stoning you for a good work but for blasphemy. You, a man, are making yourself God.” In a sense, the Pharisees were on the right track. They were starting to take Jesus seriously. They began to glimpse that he might be God, not just “a good moral teacher.” But they recoiled from taking that religious leap of faith and fell back on their egos.

To help them see how they were getting things upside-down spiritually, Jesus quotes from Ps. 82:6, saying: “Is it not written in your law, ‘I said, ‘You are gods’’?” In other words, Jesus was trying to expose their overinflated egos – did they actually think they were like “gods”? – and instead help them see their own smallness, and if possible, to get them to laugh at themselves. But that was asking too much. The Pharisees’ spirituality (and theology) had titled too far in the wrong direction. They took themselves too seriously, and failed to take God more seriously. Hence, they committed the greatest sin of all: deicide, the murder of God. Skewed spirituality ultimately leads to serious sin.

My friends, we see here another great lesson we can learn from the season of Lent, namely, how to perceive that peculiar paradox, that delicate dance, that beautiful balance we call holiness. If you seriously want to be a saint, you should ask yourself two questions daily: (1) how seriously do I take God? and (2) how seriously do I take myself? The modern world not only does not take God very seriously, they don’t want to think about him at all. The fastest growing segment of the U.S. population is atheists.

Secondly, the best way not to take ourselves too seriously is by going to confession. Sometimes, in confession after the person has said their sins, I reply: “Eh, that’s not too bad.” It always makes them smile or even laugh. But it touches a deep truth: sometimes we take our sins too seriously and think they are bigger than God’s infinite love. So we stay away from confession. But do you see what just happened? We took ourselves too seriously and we did not take God’s love seriously enough.

C. S. Lewis once wrote: “No people find each other as absurd as lovers.” That is, lovers can laugh at themselves because they take their love seriously but not themselves; they are truly themselves before each other's eyes. At the heart of all holiness lies a peculiar paradox, a delicate dance, a beautiful balance.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The End of Freedom

Seeking the freedom of sons not slaves

03/24/2021

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

If there is one thing we Americans are avid about, almost to the point of an addiction, is our fervor for freedom. We love our freedom! In 1775 Patrick Henry defiantly declared: “Give me liberty or give me death!” In 1776, Thomas Jefferson delivered the “Declaration of Independence,” or better, the “Declaration of Freedom.” In 1863, Abraham Lincoln spoke at Gettysburg and said our nation was “conceived in liberty” and yet we still needed “a new birth of freedom" by overcoming slavery. In 1886 the Statue of Liberty was erected in Staten Island as a gift from the French to their freedom-loving friends across the pond. And the long list of our love for liberty goes on and on.

The tipping point, however, where our love for liberty goes from being “avid” to being “addictive” is when people put limits to our freedom. We don’t like that. Unborn babies limit the liberty of their mothers to do whatever they want with their bodies. Therefore, we legalize abortion rather than lose our liberty. Churches put limits to our liberty to marry whomever we choose. Therefore, we prefer to leave our church rather than leave behind our liberty. The needs of the world community put limits to our liberty on how we make money. Therefore, we make laws to protect and promote our national interests at the expense of poor nations. In other words, unborn babies and religious organizations and poorer nations remind us that freedom is not an end in itself. The real “end” of freedom is not license but rather love.

In the gospel today, Jesus teaches the Jews the real end for which they enjoy freedom, namely, to be children of God, to love like Jesus loves. Jesus explains: “Everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin…[But] if the Son frees you, then you will truly be free.” Jesus contrasts two kinds of freedom: the freedom that slaves desire and the freedom that sons desire. What’s the difference? Slaves desire freedom for the sake of license, to do whatever they want, liberty without limits.

That is a sort of adolescent attitude toward freedom because teenagers cannot wait to get out of the house and finally be free. We see some of that limitless liberty on spring break beach pictures. When all we desire is a liberty without limits, we only become slaves to our deeper passions and unruly desires. We become addicted to freedom as license instead of being avid about freedom.

By contrast Jesus calls us to a freedom for love, indeed a freedom in the truth. He said: “If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” What kind of freedom will Jesus’ truth set us free for: to run around on the beach naked? No. Rather, Jesus’ truth teaches us that liberty has limits, like those limits imposed upon us by unborn babies, houses of worship, and poorer countries. In this way we can be avid for freedom without being addicted to freedom. We can grow beyond an adolescent approach to freedom to enjoy the freedom of children of God, a freedom to love, and even lay down our life for others. We discover that the end of freedom is not license but love.

The season of Lent helps us to see liberty in a new light. How so? During Lent we sacrifice some of our freedom, we impose limits to our freedom, so we can learn how freedom should be used for love. Lent invites us to ask ourselves what kind of freedom we are pursuing: the freedom of slaves or the freedom of sons? How providential that Spring Break often overlaps with Lent, where we can see how people really feel about freedom.

St. Paul put the purpose of freedom perfectly in Galatians 5:1: “For freedom Christ has set us free, so do not submit again to the yoke of slavery.” In other words, seek the freedom of sons not slaves. Abraham Lincoln was absolutely right when he urged Americans at Gettysburg that our nation was “conceived” in freedom but we still need a "new birth” of freedom. We Americans need to be “born again” with a freedom that exists for the sake of love. Why? Because love is the true end of freedom.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Life’s Mysteries

Marveling at the mystery of God’s mercy

03/22/2021

John 8:1-11 Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery and made her stand in the middle. They said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” They said this to test him, so that they could have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger. But when they continued asking him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he bent down and wrote on the ground. And in response, they went away one by one, beginning with the elders. So he was left alone with the woman before him. Then Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She replied, “No one, sir.” Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”

All theologians are tempted to put God in a box, that is, the box of their own understanding. They try to wrap their minds around God. Indeed, all Christians face the same temptation and tendency. We are prone to thinking God is “conservative” or “liberal,” he is a “capitalist” or he is “communist,” he is the God of Augustine or the God of Aquinas. But in the end God remains a great Mystery: the One we can get close to but never catch. He eludes all easy explanation and even hard explanations. The day we think we have figured God out is the day we are no longer dealing with the real God.

Recently, I saw the trailer for the new Tom Cruise movie called “Top Gun: Maverick.” His superior officer, played by Ed Harris, is interviewing him as Maverick stands at attention. Ed Harris lists Maverick’s accomplishments, saying: “30 plus years of service, combat medals, citations, only man to shoot down an enemy plane in the last 40 years. Yet you can’t get a promotion, you won’t retire, and despite all your best efforts, you refuse to die. You should be at least a two-star admiral by now, yet here you are: Captain. Why is that?” Maverick smiles and says: “It is one of life’s mysteries, sir.” Maverick might be ONE of life’s mysteries, but God is THE greatest mystery of all, before whom we can only marvel in humility.

This is precisely the problem for the Pharisees in the gospel today: they refuse to accept the mystery of God. They want to put God in their box, the box of the Old Testament, but Jesus (the Son of God) defies all categories and remains the great Mystery. The Pharisees try to trick Jesus either into accepting the rigorous interpretation of the Mosaic law and acquiesce to the adulterous woman’s stoning, or reject Moses and thereby discredit himself in the eyes of the Jewish people. In other words, they want to wrap their minds around him and be able to explain him according to their terms.

But our Lord replies: “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Notice how Jesus evades their trap and jumps out of their box. He does not endorse the hard penalty of the Mosaic law to stone the guilty woman, nor does he let her off the hook. Jesus completely agrees that she is guilty of grave sin, and so accepts that she should be stoned.

And yet, he raises the bar of who is able to judge and condemn another person to none other than God, the only One who is without sin. Jesus is the sinless One who by all rights could have thrown the first stone – indeed, the only stone – but he chose to be merciful. Everyone should have left the scene of the stoning saying the same thing as Maverick: “It is one of life’s mysteries, sir.” When we deal with God, he always remains a mystery, a mystery of mercy.

My friends, there is one more mystery in life that deserves our attention almost as much as the mystery of God’s mercy, namely, the “mysterium iniquitatis,” or “the mystery of sin.” What could be more mysterious and inexplicable to any Christian than the fact of our relentless rebellion and sins in the face of such a loving God? Why do we keep sinning so much when we know God loves us so much? St. Paul agonized over the “mysterium iniquitatis” when he wrote in Romans 7: “What I do, I do not understand. For I do not do what I want, but what I hate…Miserable one that I am!” Paul faced the full force of his sinfulness and knew that mystery could only be overcome by the “mysterium amoris,” the mystery of God’s love.

I love watching the mystery of God’s love overcome and vanquish the mystery of our sins every time someone goes to confession. In sacramental confession we experience one of life's great mysteries like the woman caught in adultery. We know our sins deserve death, and yet the only One capable of condemning us does not lift a stone, but stoops down in compassion and writes in the sand words of mercy and forgiveness. In confession the two great mysteries of life do battle: the mysterium iniquitatis and the mysterium amoris. And all we can do is marvel like Maverick and say with a smile: “It is one of life’s mysteries, sir.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

About an Hour

Answering the hardest questions our hearts ask

03/21/2021

John 12:20-33 Some Greeks who had come to worship at the Passover Feast came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and asked him, “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me,  and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me.

Have you ever guessed the right answer even though you did not understand the question? Maybe that is how most of us survived school: bluffing at the answers. Sometimes at school Mass I will ask the students a question and all the first graders hands will shoot up. No matter what my question is, the students often answer “God!” They figure they are in church, a priest is asking a question so the odds are good that the answer has to be God! They might guess the right answer even if they never understood my question.

One day a contestant named Debra was on “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” and made it all the way to the last question. As you can imagine, the question was especially hard: “Which of the following species of birds does not build its own nest but lays its eggs in the nests of other birds? It is (A) the condor (B) the buzzard (C) the cuckoo, or (D) the vulture?” Debra had no idea what the right answer was. What was worse, she had used up her “50/50 lifeline” as well as her “Poll the Audience lifeline.” All she had left was “Phone a Friend.” Her friend Jenni, however, was not the sharpest pencil in the box, but Debra had no choice.

When she asked her the question, Jenni answered: “That’s easy; the answer is C: the cuckoo.” Knowing her friend’s reputation she seriously doubted that was the right answer. The host insisted: “I need an answer.” Debra crossed her fingers, and answered: “C: the cuckoo.” “Is that your final answer?” asked the host. Debra stammered, “Uh, yes, that is my final answer.” The host suddenly said: That answer is…absolutely correct! You are now a millionaire!” Three days later Debra had a party for her family and friends, especially her friend Jenni, who helped her with the final question. Debra said: “Jenni, I don’t know how to thank you! How did you know the right answer?” Jenni said: “Oh, come on!” Everybody knows that cuckoos don’t build nests. They live in clocks!” Sometimes we get the right answer, even if we don’t understand the real question.

In the gospel today we see another case of guessing the right answer but not knowing the real question. Some Greeks want to see Jesus and they approach Philip and Andrew. Philip and Andrew bring the Greeks to Jesus, who suddenly and surprisingly exclaims: “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified!” It was like the gameshow host who declared: “You are now a millionaire!” Somehow the Greeks had guessed the right answer – namely Jesus – but they did not really understand the question their hearts were asking. Vatican II listed a few of these deep and difficult questions of the human heart: What is man and woman? Why is there sorrow, sin and suffering? What follows after death? The Greeks could not articulate or ask those questions, but like Jenni, they knew the answer.

If we want to understand how Jesus is the answer to our heart’s hardest questions, we must explore what Jesus meant by his “hour.” The word “hour” is used 17 times in the gospel of John. In the first half of the gospel, the word “hour” is used to anticipate the climax of the Cross, the hour of his death. Jesus tells his mother in Jn 2, “My hour has not yet come,” yet he provides the best wine. He tells the Samaritan woman in Jn 4, “The hour is coming for true worship.” Jesus tells the Jews in Jn 5, “The hour is coming when the dead will rise.” When the Greeks come with Philip and Andrew (Jews and Gentiles) to see Jesus in Jn 12, the stage is set, so Jesus dramatically declares: “The hour has come!” for all of these things that were foreshadowed to be fulfilled: when the grain of wheat dies and produces great fruit and where the whole world would worship.

In other words, this “hour” is when the best wine will be served, where people will worship in Spirit and in truth, where the dead experience new life, and where wheat that dies will produce much fruit. Can you think of an hour in which you find wine, wheat, worship and the world gathered at the same table? Just look around you right now in this church. The hour of Jesus, therefore, is the hour we spend at Mass, which happens to take about an hour. Our hearts ask deep and daunting questions, and Jesus is always the answer, especially when “his hour” becomes “our hour.”

When I was in high school I used to get up early in the morning and race across town to the Carmelite convent of St. Theresa for Mass at 6:30 a.m. I usually arrived 5 minutes late and Fr. Tribou would glare at me over his glasses. I had no idea why I did that as a teenager; I just had a deep desire to go to Mass. Like Jenni, I was getting the answer right (the Mass) but I did not really understand the questions my heart was asking. But somehow, I wanted Jesus’ hour to become my hour.

My parents have been sitting at home for the past year watching TV Masses and making spiritual Communions. They recently received their second shot of the COVID vaccine and are really ready to run back to Mass. My parents’ hearts have been aching with a burning question for over a year, and they know exactly where to find the answer: in the hour of the Mass. They want to make Jesus’ hour, their hour.

Sadly, though, many Catholics during this pandemic have forgotten where to find the answer when they are plagued by life’s most perplexing questions. Why? Because they have stopped going to Mass. They flounder around fishing for happiness in fortune and fame, in long-life or good-looks, in success or in sex. But those are the wrong answers to the deepest questions of our hearts.

Like the Greeks and Philip and Andrew, we, too, will only find what we are looking for only when the “hour of Jesus” becomes “our hour” – the hour of wine and wheat, and where the world gathers for worship. Guessing the right answer may help you succeed in school, but not in the spiritual life. Finding the right answer to life’s toughest questions takes about an hour.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Thanksgiving and Baseball

Seeing Jesus supplanting the sacred and secular

03/16/2021

John 5:1-16 There was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there is in Jerusalem at the Sheep Gate a pool called in Hebrew Bethesda, with five porticoes. In these lay a large number of ill, blind, lame, and crippled. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been ill for a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be well?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; while I am on my way, someone else gets down there before me.” Jesus said to him, “Rise, take up your mat, and walk.” Immediately the man became well, took up his mat, and walked. Now that day was a sabbath. So the Jews said to the man who was cured, “It is the sabbath, and it is not lawful for you to carry your mat.” He answered them, “The man who made me well told me, ‘Take up your mat and walk.’“ They asked him, “Who is the man who told you, ‘Take it up and walk’?” The man went and told the Jews that Jesus was the one who had made him well. Therefore, the Jews began to persecute Jesus because he did this on a sabbath.

Do you ever wonder about the origins of our national holidays and traditions? They can be both interesting and entertaining. I recently looked up where the holiday of Thanksgiving originated and where the seventh inning stretch came from in baseball. Thanksgiving is celebrated in the fall because it coincides with the fall harvest time. It was because there was an abundant harvest in the fall of 1621 that 53 Pilgrims and 90 Wampanoag Indians sat down at the table together. It was later in 1789 that President George Washington declared it a national holiday.

The seventh inning stretch was started by President William Howard Taft in 1910. The hefty president attended a game between the Washington Senators and the Philadelphia Athletics. He could not stay for the whole game because of pressing business, so in the middle of the seventh inning he got up to leave. Everyone saw him and stood up out of respect for the president of the United States. And people have been observing those two traditions ever since. In fact, these secular traditions are so special to us Americans they almost carry a sacred quality, that is, we observe them “religiously,” and never want to change or lose them.

The gospel of John is meticulously mindful of the traditions and holidays of the Jews, like we are of American traditions. John always points out what feast gives the backdrop for Jesus’ ministry. Sometimes it is the feast of Passover, as in John 6, where Jesus multiplies the loaves and fish. Or, in John 7 and 8, it is the feast of Tabernacles, where Jesus describes himself as the “living water” and as the “true light.” And then Jesus gives light to the man born blind in John 9. In other words, John is saying Jesus has come to supplant these sacred traditions because he is fulfilling their original intentions and ultimate meanings.

So, it is somewhat surprising John does not clearly identify which feast provides the backdrop for today’s gospel from John 5. Most scholars agree, however, it is the feast of Pentecost, which occurred 50 days after Passover. Like the American tradition of Thanksgiving, Pentecost was also originally a harvest celebration, the spring harvest of wheat. So, at Pentecost Jews traditionally brought bushels of wheat to the Temple for an offering. Pentecost also commemorates the receiving of the Torah, or Law (10 Commandments), at Mt. Sinai by Moses.

With the feast of Pentecost as the liturgical backdrop, Jesus heals a man on the Sabbath and therefore, he is saying I am the one who gives you the real wheat harvest of the Eucharist, the Bread of Life, and I give you a new law, the Law of love. Imagine how we would feel if Jesus said: I have come to replace Thanksgiving and the seventh inning stretch with new traditions, because I am greater than the Pilgrims and the presidents? Would you stop celebrating Thanksgiving or remain seated during the seventh-inning stretch? That is how outlandish and offensive Jesus’ words sounded in Jewish ears.

Does that comparison of Jesus replacing Jewish festivals as well as American holidays seem far-fetched or unwarranted as an analogy? Well, ask yourself what you missed more during the pandemic: not having secular celebrations or sacred celebrations? Did you miss holidays more than you missed the holy days? Some of us here at I.C. may have missed the Spring Festival more than we missed Easter Mass. Some Catholics may have missed exchanging gifts last Christmas more than the music at midnight Mass. And my greatest fear is that the pandemic extinguished what little faith some Catholics were clutching on to, and they didn’t miss anything at all last year, and may not go back to Mass. Although, I am sure they will go back to celebrating Thanksgiving and cheering at baseball games.

In some ways this pandemic forces us to ask the same question quietly sitting in the background of every chapter of John, namely, who is Jesus? John’s answer is that Jesus has come to supplant every sacred and secular tradition by fulfilling their original intentions and ultimate meanings. Is that who Jesus is for you?

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Lay of the Land

Learning the landscape of the Holy Land

03/15/2021

John 4:43-54 At that time Jesus left [Samaria] for Galilee. For Jesus himself testified that a prophet has no honor in his native place. When he came into Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him, since they had seen all he had done in Jerusalem at the feast; for they themselves had gone to the feast. Then he returned to Cana in Galilee, where he had made the water wine. Now there was a royal official whose son was ill in Capernaum. When he heard that Jesus had arrived in Galilee from Judea, he went to him and asked him to come down and heal his son, who was near death. Jesus said to him, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe.” The royal official said to him, “Sir, come down before my child dies.” Jesus said to him, “You may go; your son will live.” The man believed what Jesus said to him and left. While the man was on his way back, his slaves met him and told him that his boy would live. He asked them when he began to recover. They told him, “The fever left him yesterday, about one in the afternoon.” The father realized that just at that time Jesus had said to him, “Your son will live,” and he and his whole household came to believe. Now this was the second sign Jesus did when he came to Galilee from Judea.

What is one of the first things you do when you move to a new city, or even before you move there? You learn the lay of the land, that is, you try to discover how and where the major landmarks are laid out. For example, before coming to Fort Smith, you will want to know where the school and churches and hospitals are located, especially the magnificent Church of the Immaculate Conception; where the low rent district and the high rent district and the entertainment district is found; where do you find the best shopping and the really good restaurants, where are the banks, the city offices and the convention center. After living in Fort Smith for over seven years, I still get lost driving around town. In other words, when we learn the lay of the land we seem more like a citizen, whereas if we do not know the landscape, we feel like a foreigner.

One reason the Bible feels so foreign to many Catholic Christians is we do not know the lay of the land, that is, the lay of the Holy Land. Until we learn where and how the major landmarks are laid out, the Bible, and even Jesus himself, will seem obscure and out of reach. May I give you a quick “mental map” of the Holy Land, so you will not feel like a foreigner when you read the Bible? The Holy Land is about the size of New Jersey and can be divided into three districts or areas.

In the north is the area of Galilee, which contains the cities of Nazareth, Capernaum and the Sea of Galilee. In the middle is Samaria, where Jesus met the Samaritan woman in Jn 4 and where he told the parable of the Good Samaritan in Lk 10. And in the south is the area of Judea, where we find Jerusalem, and the Jerusalem Temple. All three areas or districts are connected by the Jordan River, which originates in the north and flows out of the Sea of Galilee, travels south along Samaria, and ends in the Dead Sea in Judea. So, in summary: the Holy Land is comprised of three regions all connected by one river.

Now listen to how today’s gospel reading from Jn 4 begins and ends, and keep your mental map handy. We read in Jn 4:43, “At that time Jesus left [Samaria] for Galilee.” With our quick and dirty mental map, you know that Jesus is moving from the middle region of Samaria, to the northern region of Galilee. Here is the last verse of the gospel from Jn 4:54, “Now this was the second sign Jesus did when he came to Galilee from Judea.” Again, our mental map comes to the rescue reminding us about the southern region of Judea, where Jesus actually cleansed the Jerusalem Temple the first time (he would do it again the last week of his life at the beginning of Holy Week), and moved north to Galilee, where he conducted the lion’s share of his three-year ministry.

Sometimes, we think Jesus was just sort of this itinerant preacher who arbitrarily moved from two to town and accidently ended up in Jerusalem in time for the Passover and his crucifixion. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Rather, when you study the lay of the Holy Land, you discover how strategic every step was that Jesus took. Sometimes the map of the Holy Land is called “the fifth gospel.” Why? Because along with Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, the lay of the Holy Land gives us a wide window into the mission and ministry of the Messiah. Otherwise, we feel like foreigners in the Holy Land, like someone who just arrived in Fort Smith and does not know where Immaculate Conception Church is.

My friends, a very helpful spiritual exercise is to create a mental map of your own life, where you have traveled and the places you visited. It will tell you a lot about yourself and the kind of person you are and the king of Christian you are. Your feet do not lie. Do you know who has already made a digital map of your life? Your smart phone has. Sometimes after I visit a family for dinner, I get in my car and the phone says: “Ten minutes to Immaculate Conception Church.” Wow. Someone is mapping my movements.

I am convinced that our steps on earth are not arbitrary or haphazard but rather guided by God’s providence and plans for us, just like Jesus’ steps were. Today learn the lay of the Holy Land and you will discover who Jesus is. Take time to learn the lay of your own holy land and you will discover who you are in a whole new way. Then, you may not feel like a foreigner in your own life.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Compared to Kardashians

Comparing ourselves to the Holy One not humans

03/13/2021

Luke 18:9-14 Jesus addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else. “Two people went up to the temple area to pray; one was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector. The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself, ‘O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity — greedy, dishonest, adulterous - or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.’ But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’ I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Comparing ourselves to others can really motivate us, but it can also really mislead us. For example, comparing myself to others really motivated me when I was in high school. When I was in elementary school, I did not care much about making good grades; and it showed. I only made B’s and C’s. When I entered Catholic High School, Fr. Tribou put the rankings of each class by grades on his office door every 9 weeks. I noticed I was ranked lower than another student whom I didn’t think was that smart. So what did I do? I worked my tail off the next 9 weeks in order to pass him. I finally graduated ranked 9th in a class of 177 boys, mostly motivated because I compared myself to others.

On the other hand, comparing ourselves to others can mislead us into a false sense of security or even superiority. When we are accepted into a prestigious university or Ivy League college we may feel we are smarter or savvier than others. But that is not always the case. Here are a few famous Americans who never completed college, and some names may surprise you. John D. Rockefeller who founded the Standard Oil Company, and whose name is on a lot of buildings because of his philanthropy, only finished high school.

Racheal Ray, who’s famous for food, cooking shows and cookbooks, never attended college. Steve Jobs only took one semester of college before dropping out, and together with his friend, Steve Wozniak, started the tech giant called Apple. And the list goes on and on with notable names like Henry Ford, Dave Thomas, and Kim Kardashian. I love the Kardashians! Can you see how comparing ourselves can motivate us but it can also mislead us?

We see another illustration of how comparing ourselves to others can mislead in the gospel today. A Pharisee and a tax-collector both go to the Temple to pray and they both do a little comparison test, comparing themselves to others. The Pharisee prays: “O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity – greedy, dishonest, adulterous – or even like this tax-collector.” The Pharisee felt superior because he compared himself to others, like I felt superior because I was ranked higher than others in high school.

Notice, however, how the tax-collector also compares himself, not to others, but to God. He prays: “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” In other words, the tax-collector realized that in God’s holy presence we are all unholy, we are sinners, and we must ask for mercy. The tax-collector remembered Gn 1:26, where it says we are created in God’s image and likeness. We are created like God and therefore we must strive to be more like God, but we fall short because of our sins.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen said when we look at a painting by candle light in a dark room we think it is beautiful. When we take it out into the bright sunlight, we see its flaws and imperfections. The Pharisee was comparing himself to the candlelight of the Kardashians and felt superior, but he should have compared himself to God, the “Trihagion,” “the Holy, Holy, Holy One” in Is 6:3 and Rv. 4:8. Standing before God, we are all sinners.

The season of Lent offers us an opportunity to reexamine how we compare ourselves to others. That is, we should stop comparing ourselves to human beings and start comparing ourselves to the Holy One, or better to Jesus Christ. For example, when we go to confession, it is tempting to mention the sins of our spouse. We say, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. But my sins are nothing compared to what my husband does! Let me tell you about the Kardashians – they’re really bad!”

Instead, we should take the painting of our life and, rather than look at it by candlelight, bring it under the bright sunlight, that is, under the Light of the Son, Jesus Christ. When we go to confession we are to compare ourselves to Jesus, the Trihagion, the Holy, Holy, Holy One, before whom we stand as sinners and as rebels. The only attitude we can adopt is that of the tax-collector, who beat his breast and begged: “O Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

The Leafless Tree

Practicing the presence of God in the pandemic

03/12/2021

Mark 12:28-34 One of the scribes came to Jesus and asked him, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus replied, “The first is this: Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.” The scribe said to him, “Well said, teacher. You are right in saying, He is One and there is no other than he. And to love him with all your heart, with all your understanding, with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.” And when Jesus saw that he answered with understanding, he said to him, “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.” And no one dared to ask him any more questions.

If you are looking for a powerful spiritual book to read for the rest of Lent, I highly recommend a small book by Brother Lawrence called The Practice of the Presence of God. Have you heard of this spiritual classic? It is a good book to read not only for the rest of Lent, but for the rest of your life. Brother Lawrence lived in the 17th century (he died in 1691) and was a Carmelite friar in Paris. But before he entered the Carmelite monastery, he served in the French army.

One day he had a profound experience on the battlefield that changed his life. He saw a leafless tree in the middle of the battlefield. As he contemplated and gazed at the tree, he began to realize that the tree would be in full flower and bloom in a few months. It suddenly occurred to him that the tree was a symbol of God’s ability to transform the human heart.

That reminds me of one of my favorite passages from the Old Testament book of Habakkuk, who also wrote in the aftermath of war: the Assyrian Invasion in 605 BC. We read: “For though the fig tree does not blossom and no fruit appear on the vine; though the terraces produce no nourishment; though the flocks disappear from the fold and there is no herd in the stalls; yet will I rejoice in the Lord and exult in my saving God” (Hab. 3:17-18).

In other words, both Brother Lawrence and the Prophet Habakkuk could sense the presence of God when all they could see was the absence of God. That is the point of the book The Practice of the Presence of God: to see and sense God’s loving presence at all times: when we are happy or sad, when we are rich or poor, when we are in the midst of friends on fighting our foes; when everything in turning up roses or when everything lies in ruins. When God is present, we find peace.

In the gospel today, a scribe asks Jesus, “Which is the first of all the commandments? And remember in Jewish tradition there were 613 ceremonial laws that had to be observed to the letter. So the scribe is not asking which of the Ten Commandments is the greatest; the question is more complicated. Jesus replies: “This is the first: Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength.”

Why does Jesus insist we must love the Lord with heart, soul, mind and strength? Because we must love him even when he seems to be absent and far from us; indeed, even when God seems to be punishing us. In other words, one of the best ways to fulfill the first commandment is to practice the presence of God like Brother Lawrence and Habakkuk taught. How can we love God if we do not think He is present, and even closer to us than we are to ourselves as St. Augustine wrote in his Confessions (Bk. 3, Ch. 6)?

Folks, here are a couple of ways we can “practice the presence of God” today. In this respect the pandemic has been a two-edged sword. Some people have keenly felt the absence of God because they have been stuck at home, like my parents. But that absence has made their hearts grow fonder and they are flocking back to church and to Mass. We are actually having overcrowding at Sunday Mass! That is a very wonderful problem to have. The absence of the Eucharist is driving people to seek the Real Presence of Jesus in Holy Communion. That is one way the pandemic cuts.

But I am concerned it cuts the in other direction as well. How so? Some people have grown accustomed to God’s absence, that is, they are settling for TV Masses in their pajamas with their mimosas in their hands. That is why the book by Brother Lawrence would be so useful today as we try to pivot from this pandemic and try to practice the presence of God, rather than get used to the absence of God.

As we begin to glimpse the light at the end of the tunnel of this pandemic, we should ask ourselves what lessons we have learned. This pandemic, like everything else that exists in creation, is designed to help us love God with all our hearts, with all our strength, with all our minds, and with all our souls. That is what Brother Lawrence saw when he gazed on that leafless tree on the German battlefield.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Cathedral in Print

Seeking healing from the balm of the Bible

3/08/2021

Luke 4:24-30 Jesus said to the people in the synagogue at Nazareth: “Amen, I say to you, no prophet is accepted in his own native place. Indeed, I tell you, there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah when the sky was closed for three and a half years and a severe famine spread over the entire land. It was to none of these that Elijah was sent, but only to a widow in Zarephath in the land of Sidon. Again, there were many lepers in Israel during the time of Elisha the prophet; yet not one of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian.” When the people in the synagogue heard this, they were all filled with fury. They rose up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town had been built, to hurl him down headlong. But he passed through the midst of them and went away.

One of the surprising benefits of reading the Bible is that it heals us. And sometimes it heals us even though we do not think we are sick; it heals hidden wounds. Fr. Jerome Kodell of Subiaco wrote: “God’s word…always has divine healing and saving power…From time to time the transforming power of the word of God is recognized as one’s life becomes more peaceful, joyful and whole” (The Catholic Bible Study Handbook, 9-10).

And if you are looking for an excellent example of someone whose Bible reading has made him “peaceful, joyful and whole” look no further than Fr. Jerome Kodell himself. He is explaining something he has experienced. In other words, there are “hidden holes” in our hearts and the words of scripture can be poured into them like a healing balm.

Do you remember the African American spiritual song, “There is a Balm in Gilead”? It is not referring to a hydrogen bomb but a healing balm. The title is taken from Jeremiah 8:22, which reads: “Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is there no healing for the wounds of [God’s] people?” And the people's of God's deepest and most deadly wound is a lack of faith. Sadly, most of us do not know how feeble our faith is, and how much we need healing for it. A lack of faith is precisely why we do not feel “peaceful, joyful and whole.”

In the gospel today, Jesus says a prophet is not without honor except in his native place, namely Nazareth (for Jesus). That is, the people do not have faith in Jesus as the Messiah. And how does Jesus try to heal that lack of faith? He invites the people to a little Bible study class. If the people would read and meditate on the episodes of Elijah in 1 Kings 17 and Elisha in 2 Kings 5 (our first reading today), their faith would be healed and they might welcome Jesus as the Messiah. In other words, the people’s lack of faith is a hidden hole in their heart, and Jesus tried to apply the Balm of Gilead (Bible reading) to heal it. But the people rejected the divine physician, just like we do not like to go to the doctor.

My friends, are you suffering from a lack of peace, joy and wholeness in your life? If we are honest, we would all admit that we are. Well, I would submit to you that there is a hidden hole in our hearts called a lack of faith, a deep and deadly wound, and those are its symptoms. But the good news is “There is a balm in Gilead / To make the wounded whole; / There is power enough in heaven, / To cure a sin-sick soul.” And the best way to tap that power and healing is regular reading of Sacred Scripture.

I am always happy to hear about groups in our parish starting a new Bible study. I am helping a Hispanic women’s group with a Spanish Bible study focusing on the sacraments in Scripture. The youth group in Springdale is doing the study called “Unlocking the Mysteries of the Bible” with Jeff Cavins. I am offering an on-line Bible study on the book of Acts, called “Axe of the Apostles.”

Several people have said they are reading the Bible in a year with Fr. Mike Schmitz. I think people watch him because he has really great hair; he’s the “fella over there with the hella good hair.” And of course, Bishop Robert Barron has produced a stunningly elegant Bible through his production company “Word on Fire.” It is called “A Cathedral in Print,” – a great name for the Bible – and it goes to great lengths to make the Bible beautiful.

Folks, the point is we have a healing balm in our hands called the Holy Bible. It can heal the deepest wound in the human soul, that hole in the heart called a lack of faith, a wound that most of us don’t even know we have. And when we dedicated time and energy and effort to study of Sacred Scripture, we will begin to feel more peaceful, joyful and whole, like Fr. Jerome Kodell.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Who’s On First

Understanding Jesus’ double meanings

3/07/2021

John 2:13-25 Since the Passover of the Jews was near, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. He found in the temple area those who sold oxen, sheep, and doves, as well as the money changers seated there. He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen, and spilled the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables, and to those who sold doves he said, “Take these out of here, and stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.” His disciples recalled the words of Scripture, Zeal for your house will consume me. At this the Jews answered and said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered and said to them, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and you will raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking about the temple of his body. Therefore, when he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they came to believe the Scripture and the word Jesus had spoken.

The gospel of John is famous for words that have a double meaning. The same word means two different things. Remember Abbott and Costello’s popular skit “Who’s on First”? The word “who” meant both a player on the baseball team as well as the interrogative pronoun “who.” The double meaning is what made the skit so funny. Jesus has a little fun with double meanings in the fourth gospel.

For example, in John 3, Jesus describes baptism as being “born again.” Nicodemus thinks on the natural level of being born again through your mother’s womb. Jesus, meanwhile, means the spiritual level of being born again by water and the Holy Spirit, the sacrament of baptism. Or, in John 11, Jesus’ close friend Lazarus dies but Jesus says he is merely “asleep.” Well, which is it: is Lazarus asleep or dead? In the gospel of John, Jesus means both. And therefore, Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead as if he were waking him up from sleep.

That reminds me of this joke about double meanings I heard recently. A businessman ordered flowers to be sent to the opening of his friend’s new branch office. When the businessman got there, he was shocked to see the flowers with the inscription, “Rest in peace.” He was so outraged that he went straight to the florist to complain. The florist said: “It could be worse. Just think: today someone was buried beneath a floral arrangement with the message – ‘Congratulations on your new location!’”

Today’s gospel from John 2 presents us with yet another “Who’s on first” scenario, where the same word carries a two-fold meaning. You remember the scene: Jesus drives the money-changers out of the Temple with a cord, and dramatically declares: “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it in three days.” The Jews think Jesus means the building of the Jerusalem Temple, but in fact, Jesus means his own physical body. John tried to clarify the confusing by adding: “But [Jesus] spoke of the temple of his body.”

In other words, Jesus was talking about the death and resurrection that the temple of his body would undergo. Jesus’ body would be destroyed on the cross. Jesus would have gladly received flowers at his grave with the message: “Congratulations on your new location!” Why? Well, because our Lord knew that his resurrection meant that his permanent “new location” was to be in heaven. In order to grasp Jesus’ deeper meaning, you have to catch that the word “temple” can mean both a “building” and a “body,” just like “who’s on first” means both a player and a pronoun.

My friends, Jesus’ words about the destruction of the temple of his body also apply to the destruction of the temple of our own bodies. That is, we, too, will die one day; our bodies will suffer the destruction called “death.” While I was writing this homily on Friday evening, I received a call to give an elderly lady in hospice care the Last Rites. This woman was preparing, like Jesus in the gospel, for the destruction of the temple of her body. And also like our Lord, she looks forward to the resurrection of her body, not in three days, but on the last day. The anointing of the sick prepared her body for the destruction of death.

The season of Lent provides another opportunity to prepare our bodies for their final destruction by following Jesus’ example of driving the money-changers out of the Temple. How so? Well, when Jesus cleansed the Jerusalem Temple of sinful money-changers, he was preparing it and purifying it for its destruction in 70 A.D. when the Roman Legions would burn it and raze it to the ground. The only portion of the Temple still standing today is the “Western Wall,” also called the “Wailing Wall.”

On the spiritual and personal level, the penances and practices of Lent we perform carry the same spirit of purification of our bodily temples to prepare them for their final destruction at death. When we give up alcohol, when we give up sweets, when we stop scrolling incessantly on social media, when we don’t eat meat on Friday, when we fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, we drive the modern-day money-changers (another name for “bad habits” and sins) out of our temples.

We begin to see why John said about Jesus: “Zeal for your temple consumes me.” A similar zeal should consume us during Lent. That is, we purify the temple of our body by our fasting and sacrifices in order to prepare it for the day of its destruction at death, and its eventual reconstruction, namely, its resurrection.

Folks, “Who’s on first” “What’s on second” and “I don’t know is on third.” If you do not understand what that means, maybe you should go back and watch reruns of that famous Abbott and Costello skit. And if you do not understand what Jesus means by the destruction of the temple of his body and how he will rebuild it in three days, you should go back and reread John 2. Then you will not be upset if you receive a bouquet of flowers at your funeral that reads: “Congratulations on your new location!”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Relevant Religion

Seeing how faith makes practical sense

3/06/2021

Luke 15:1-3, 11-32 Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So to them Jesus addressed this parable. “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.’ But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly, bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ Then the celebration began.

Does religion feel relevant to you, that is, does it feel real and practical, applicable to daily life? One way religion became relevant to me was by watching movies. It was in a movie that I learned that Luke 15 is where we find the Parable of the Prodigal son. Did you ever see the movie, “The Reluctant saint” about St. Joseph of Cupertino? He wanted to become a Franciscan priest but struggled in school and seminary, failing virtually all his classes.

At his final exam, which all his teachers knew he would fail, they only asked him one question: where in the bible is the parable of the Prodigal Son? To the astonishment of his professors he responded with the right answer. Luke 15 was the only bible passage Joseph could read and remember. And that was the first bible passage that I have read and remembered as well, because I have trouble memorizing the bible, too. That movie made my religion a little more relevant to me.

Besides watching movies, another way to make religion relevant is studying closely the Parable of the Prodigal Son in today’s gospel. The story is about strained family relationships where the solution is mercy. The father is merciful to his sinful son, and the older brother refuses to show mercy to his little brother, “who was dead but brought back to life.” The father’s mercy is the right way to deal with family problems, while the older brother’s self-righteousness is toxic to family life.

Often when people come to me for counseling while experiencing family problems, I recommend they read Luke 15, the Parable of the Prodigal Son. In other words, suddenly our religion becomes radically relevant because it helps us overcome a very real problem: family feuds. In a sense, thank goodness for family feuds because they keep our religion relevant. Indeed, Pope Francis teaches that mercy, as embodied in the father of the Prodigal Son, is the solution to virtually all the miseries of mankind. Now, that is really relevant religion.

Another way our religion can become relevant is in the face of death. Death is the great mystery for which modern science and cutting-edge technology provide no solution, or even sympathy. Recently, we buried Tom Caldarera, Katie Reith and Kent Magrini. And at this moment two parishioners are in hospice care: Mary Maestri and Eva de la Crux. We should not feel sorry for them because someday we will stand in their shoes or lay in their bed. That is, we, too, must pass through the door of death into that “undiscovered country from which no traveler ever returns.”

The only way to confront the great mystery of death is with the great mystery of faith. And I would add, that faith should be mixed with mercy. Why? Well, because we have all sinned and wandered far from the Father’s House, like the Prodigal Son did. We, too, will have to face the Father’s after we die because the “door of death” will turn out to be the “front door” to the Father’s house. And there we hope to see his Face beaming with mercy, and hear those consoling words: “This son of my was dead and has come back to life.”

In a strange but sobering way death helps our religion become very relevant. Why? Because death reminds us we must all leave this world and the only thing we will take with us is our faith, our religion. Job declared in the opening verses of his Old Testament book how we must face death naked: “Naked I came forth from my mother’s womb and naked I go back there.” But then Job remembers his religion, and adds: “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!” (Jb 1:21).

My friends, we live in a world in which religion seems increasingly irrelevant. Perhaps you have family or friends who scoff at your spirituality and call it silly superstition. But maybe someday they will see a movie and learn a bible verse, or get in a family feud and need to learn some mercy, or finally face death and religion may see a little more relevant to them. The only thing we will leave this world with may be a little relic of religion.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Listen with Love

Seeing the difference between hearing and listening

03/04/2021

Matthew 20:17-28 As Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the Twelve disciples aside by themselves, and said to them on the way, “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and scourged and crucified, and he will be raised on the third day.” Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee approached Jesus with her sons and did him homage, wishing to ask him for something. He said to her, “What do you wish?” She answered him, “Command that these two sons of mine sit, one at your right and the other at your left, in your kingdom.” Jesus said in reply, “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the chalice that I am going to drink?” They said to him, “We can.” He replied, “My chalice you will indeed drink, but to sit at my right and at my left, this is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.”

Have you ever thought about the difference between the two words “to hear” and “to listen”? They sound almost the same, but there are subtle and significant differences between these two words. Let’s think about them for a second. On the one hand, hearing is passive, you can almost do it in your sleep, you hear things and it needs no effort. Listening, on the other hand, is active and we have to work hard at it, to listen carefully.

We hear with our heads, where words go in one ear and out the other, sometimes. But we listen with our hearts because we listen with love. And words can touch us deeply, when we truly listen to them. We hear lots of sounds and static all day, and they can sound stupid. But when we listen with attention, we begin to understand the deeper meaning of things.

Listen, now, to these examples, and see if you can catch the difference between these two words “to hear” and “to listen.” Here’s the first example: “I heard Coach Meares yelling at his basketball players” – which you have probably heard many times. That is hearing but not necessarily listening. Here’s another example: “Listen to this song by Fifty Cent. Can you understand his words?” Probably not.

A third example: “If you do not speak Spanish, you only hear that language with your ears, and they bound off your ears without meaning. Pero si tu hablas el idioma puedes escuchar y entender cada palabra.” In other words, if we speak Spanish and listen attentively, we understand those words more deeply. That is the difference between hearing and listening.

The gospel today gives us another example of the difference between these two words “to hear” and “to listen.” See if you can discover which of the two – hearing or listening – the disciples are doing while Jesus is speaking to them. I’ll give you a clue: it’s what some Trinity students do while their teachers are speaking. Jesus says that he will be condemned and crucified.

But James and John want to make sure they get front row seats in Jesus’ kingdom. Jesus was explaining his execution, but the disciples were dreaming about who is going to ride shotgun with Jesus; who gets to sit where. Were the disciples only hearing with their head, so the words went in one ear and out the other? Or did they listen with love and understand what he was trying to share with them? Obviously, they only heard with their ears but did not listen with love.

Boys and girls, as you go through your day today, ask yourself if you are only “hearing” or if you are attentively “listening” to others? We live in a world where we are bombarded with noise, and it is very tempting to tune people out. “Tell it to the hand” - I’m not listening. Our ears are open to hear, but our hearts are closed to listening with love.

Sometimes, I ask people in conversations, “I’m sorry, but would you please repeat that? I did not quite catch what you said and I don’t want to miss what you mean.” It’s okay to say that: Would you please repeat what you just said. It shows respect and love. I want people to know that I am listening with love to their words.

Have you ever heard your parents fighting and arguing? There are lots of loud words being thrown around and hitting ears. But I am willing to bet there is precious little listening going on with love, and touching any hearts. It is very easy to tell the difference, isn’t it, when your parents are fighting and see the difference between hearing and listening with love.

One of the best gifts you can give to someone is to listen to them with love. To give another person your full and undivided attention, and not miss anything they mean to say, is a great gift. To listen to love is a great gift you can give to your friends, to your teachers, and someday, to your husband or to your wife. Try to give that gift to someone today, and I hope someone will give you that gift as well. But no matter how hard I listen with love to the songs of Fifty Cent, I will never understand what he’s saying.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Consequences of Context

Reading Scripture and others in context

03/02/2021

Matthew 23:1-12 Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples, laying, “The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses. Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example. For they preach but they do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to move them. All their works are performed to be seen. They widen their phylacteries and lengthen their tassels. They love places of honor at banquets, seats of honor in synagogues, greetings in marketplaces, and the salutation ‘Rabbi.’ As for you, do not be called ‘Rabbi.’ You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers. Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven. Do not be called ‘Master’; you have but one master, the Christ. The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

One of the most sound principles of scripture study is to keep the larger context in mind. The context carries consequences for the correct interpretation of the bible. As a result, every verse of scripture should be read in the larger context of the chapter. But don’t stop there: every chapter must be read in view of the larger book. But that context is not enough either.

Every book of the bible should be studied in the larger context of where it appears in the Old Testament or in the New Testament. Thus the Catechism of the Catholic Church says: “Be especially attentive to the content and the unity of the whole Scripture.” In other words, there is a holy harmony and wholeness to the entire bible, and that larger context has consequences for each verse, and indeed, down to each and every word.

But wait, there’s more: even that context is not enough to correctly interpret the bible. The Catechism continues to comment on the consequence of context by adding: “Read the Scripture in the living Tradition of the whole Church.” In other words, the bible is a cherished heirloom of our spiritual family, the Church. One friend of mine likes to scrapbook, and she has compiled a huge book of pictures of her family: their birthdays and weddings, funerals and vacations, and when they came to America, etc.

But if you were to flip through the pages of that book without knowing my friend or her family, or their long history, the pictures would be disconnected and not make much sense in isolation. Similarly, the bible tells our family story, and therefore you must know the family history called Tradition, to understand the pictures in our scrapbook called Scripture. The context carries consequences.

Today’s gospel from Matthew 23, makes many Catholics cringe and makes many Protestants perk up. Why? Well, because Jesus says in no uncertain terms: call no one on earth your father. You have but one Father in heaven. Oh no, Catholics have been wrong all along calling their priests “Fathers” in direct violation of what Jesus commanded in Mt. 23:9. But is that what Jesus really meant? No. Why?

Because the context carries consequences: words should be read in the context of verses, verses in the context of chapters, chapters in the context of books, books in the context of Testaments, and Testaments in the context of Tradition. In other words, just like you cannot take one picture out of my friend’s scrapbook and use it alone to explain her whole family story, so you cannot take Mt. 23:9 out of context of the whole bible.

Let me just share two other scripture citations to put Mt. 23:9 into its proper and larger context. St. Paul refers to himself as a “father” in 1 Cor. 4:15. We read: “Even if you have countless guides to Christ, yet you do not have many fathers, for I have become your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” St. Paul attributes the title of father to himself showing that is not what Jesus meant in Mt. 23:9.

The Old Testament book of Judges adds further context. A man named Micah asks a Levite to live in his house and serve as a priest. Micah says: “Be a father and a priest to me.” Clearly fatherhood and priesthood are closely related in the book of Judges. And Micah does not worry about calling the man his “father.”

When we read Jesus’ words about call no one on earth your father, in light of the larger context of the books of the bible, we see the point of that polemic. His comment was aimed at the Pharisees and their abuse of authority. Indeed, modern day priests who abuse our authority should not be called “father” either, and we should be defrocked as well.

My friends, this principle of scripture interpretation – context carries consequences – also helps us to interpret other people, not just the bible. Do get you get upset when babies cry in church? Do you feel frustrated and angry when someone drives recklessly in traffic? Do you think your husband or wife is selfish and does not care about the family? Do co-workers get under your skin or your boss really bug you? Are the people on the street corners just lazy and not willing to work?

Be careful not to take those actions out of the larger context, that is, the context of this person’s whole life – and indeed, the context of God’s plan for their life – and interpret that action too harshly, prematurely and in isolation. The larger context of their whole lives carries consequences for their irritating behavior today. Just like the context helps us not to cringe when we hear Jesus’ words in Mt. 23:9, so the larger context of people’s lives may help us not to cringe when we have to deal with them.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Tale of Two Sermons

Asking the Holy Spirit to speak through us

03/01/2021

Luke 6:36-38 Jesus said to his disciples: “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. “Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap. For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.”

One of my favorite things to do as a priest is prepare and preach homilies or sermons. I always go through a four-step process for preaching. First, I say a prayer to the Holy Spirit, the traditional, “Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful, etc.” The Holy Spirit provides the words, I am the voice. He is the music, I am the instrument. Second, I read the scriptures for the Mass, beginning with the gospel and ending with the first reading; the opposite of how we hear them at Mass. Stephen Covey taught, “begin with the end in mind,” and so the gospel of Jesus Christ is both the Alpha (the beginning) and the Omega (the end) as it says in Rv. 1:8.

Third, I sit and think. It takes me 2-3 hours to come up with something to say for five minutes. Usually, I read the scripture commentary provided by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops' website, which is very good. Stephen Covey also said: “There are always two creations: the mental creation and the physical creation.” So, before I write the first word of my homily (the physical creation), I have already hammered out the homily in my head (the mental creation). Thinking is the first step, writing is the last step.

One day a little girl was watching her father, a pastor, prepare his Sunday sermon. She was noticing how he would write something, and then make corrections. She asked him: “How do you know what to say?” He smiled and answered: “The Holy Spirit tells me what to say.” She looked at his paper and asked, “Then why do you keep scratching stuff out?” Apparently, that pastor needed to spend more time on his mental creation.

And fourth, immediately before I deliver the homily, I whisper this little prayer: “Come Holy Spirit, help me to say what you want me to say, and help them to hear what you want them to hear.” Why do I say that prayer? Well, because what I say and what you hear can be two very different homilies. In a sense, there are always “two sermons” every Sunday: the sermon that leaves my lips, and the sermon that enters your ears.

One Sunday a nice lady thanked me for my very moving homily. I replied: “Thank you so much. I will be sure to pass your kind remarks to the deacon who preached today.” What I say (or what the deacon says) and what you hear can be two very different sermons, and so we need the Holy Spirit to bridge the gap, and be the One who is really preaching.

Today’s gospel is a small section of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount according to St. Luke. Did you know there are actually two versions of the Sermon on the Mount? Matthew’s version covers three chapters (5-7) and Luke’s barely goes one full chapter (ch. 6). In Matthew’s gospel Jesus ascends a mountain to preach, but in Luke’s gospel, Jesus descends onto a plain (level ground) to preach. Luke’s version, therefore, is often called the “Sermon on the Plain.”

Still, both sermons begin with the Beatitudes, and end with the building on the two foundations: rock or sand. In other words, again we find a tale of two sermons: one sermon left Jesus’ lips and another sermon entered Matthew’s and Luke’s ears. Here again, however, the Holy Spirit bridges the gap and so we have confidence that both Matthew and Luke faithfully relate the words of our Lord. At least they did not think the deacon preached the sermon.

Folks, some of you may be sitting there thinking: I sure am glad I don’t have to get in the pulpit and preach Sunday after Sunday and people misunderstand my message. Or, some might be thinking: please let me preach instead! But do you realize that there is a tale of two sermons every time you open your mouth to speak? What leaves your lips is not what always enters another person’s ears. This truth is the great secret of spousal communication.

Last week I was counseling a young couple who was having marriage problems. I abruptly stopped and asked the wife: “What did you hear me saying?” She paused and tried to think of what I had said, but couldn’t quite remember. I thought: Don’t worry, this happens to me every Sunday. Husbands and wives (like priests) should ask the Holy Spirit to bridge that yawning gap between what is said and what is heard, or they, too, will end up with a tale of two sermons.

My friends, I take a lot of time and I pray before preaching my homilies. Maybe we should all take a little more time and even pray before we open our mouths to speak or open our ears to hear. Maybe all spouses should start their conversations whispering: “Come Holy Spirit, help me to say what you want me to say and for my spouse to hear what you want him/her to hear.” Then, maybe you will love spousal conversation as much as I enjoy preaching homilies.

Praised be Jesus Christ!