The First Word, Part 2

Learning how to pronounce the first syllable

12/28/2023

We continue now our series of homilies on the theology of the body, reflecting on the first of three “words of Christ,” which make up this new language, which we will discover is really the oldest language. The greatest movie of all time is undoubtedly “Star Trek II: the Wrath of Khan.” One of my favorite scenes is when Admiral Kirk outsmarts his old adversary Khan in the Mutara Nebula. Even if you are not a science-fiction fan, try to imagine this cloudy nebula in outer-space where a starship’s advanced navigation system is rendered useless. It is equivalent to driving in dense fog. Each captain, therefore, must rely on his own intuition and instinct. At one point Spock informs Kirk: “Khan is intelligent but not experienced. His pattern indicates two dimensional thinking.”

That is, Khan is an unequaled tactician and can out-maneuver anyone on the horizontal plane, when everything is on the same level or two-dimensional. He has “eyes in the back of his head.” But he is vulnerable when you add the vertical or the third dimension. Kirk, however, can think vertically and horizontally and outsmarts Khan. How does he do it? Well, first he drops the starship Enterprise below the level at which Khan’s ship Reliant is flying. He is entirely outside Khan’s field of vision. Then, Kirk moves in behind him, and coming back up to the same level, fires his photon torpedoes, and destroys him. In other words, by thinking three dimensionally (vertically and horizontally) Kirk surveys the battlefield better than Khan, who can only think two-dimensionally.

I mention this scene because this three-dimensional thinking is another way to describe Pope St. John Paul II’s theology of the body. What do I mean? Well, how do most people tend to think about marriage and sex? We think of human love exclusively in terms of earthly life, which is only two-dimensional. For example, we might think: when I was a teenager I fell in love with my high school sweetheart. We got married after college. We had children, and now we have grandchildren. And when we die, the story ends. While this version of human love is true, it only scratches the surface and stays on the horizontal level, exclusively earthly thinking. Like Khan, we are missing an entire dimension of the reality of human love, namely, the vertical, both lower and higher than earthly life.

I would suggest to you that in this lower level we learn the first word of Christ, and in the higher level we will learn to speak the third word of Christ. That is, meditating on the first word of Christ in Mt 19:8, John Paul goes below, or more precisely, deeper, into the reality of love, marriage, and sex by examining Genesis chapters 1 and 2. In the first two chapters of Genesis, in other words, the Pope discovers the deepest truths about who human beings are, how we should love one another, and what the Creator originally intended marriage to be. The pope’s analysis of Genesis reveals the uncharted depths of human love.

But then jumping ahead to Jesus’ third word in Mt 22:30, where Jesus gives a glimpse of heavenly life, teaching, “For in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like the angels in heaven”, John Paul also wants to sort of fly above the ordinary, earthly level of human love and marriage. That is, whatever else heaven will be like, we will not be married to our spouses like we are here on earth. Many newly married couples may think, “Awww, that’s so sad!” But older married couples will breathe a sigh of relief, “Whew! Thank you, Jesus!” Not a few older couples live like the cartoon strip “The Lockhorns.”

In other words, these lower and higher dimensions of love and marriage help us to understand Jesus’ first and third words respectively. And then, once we have become fluent in the language of the theology of the body on these two vertical dimensions – speaking Jesus’ first and third words well – we will return to the horizontal dimension – that is, Jesus’ second word in Mt 5:28 – and see earthly life in an entirely new light. Finally, we will perceive how earthly marriage is really a pilgrimage that originated in Eden and will culminate in eternity.

I will just point out three profound insights the pope offers us about human love and married life from Gn 1-2. Think about each following insight like a “syllable”, that is, as only one part of the first word of Christ. The Holy Father marveled at the richness of Christ’s words, stating: “We were able to realize how vast was the context of a sentence, or even just a word, spoken by Christ” (Man and Woman He Created Them, 226, pope’s emphasis). As the Prologue of John’s gospel declared, each word spoken by Jesus is “full of grace and truth” (Jn 1:14). The first insight or syllable John Paul calls “Original Solitude.” Think of the card game Solitaire, or solitary confinement if you are in prison, things we do alone, and Adam was originally created alone. The pope explores the human experience of solitude (this is phenomenology) in Gn 2:20, which reads: “The man gave names to all cattle, and to all the birds of the air, and to every beast of the field; but for the man there was not found a helper fit for him.” When I first got my dog, I asked parishioners to help me name him. The most popular name people suggested was “Bruno.” “But we don’t talk about Bruno, no, no, no. We don’t talk about Bruno!”

John Paul explains, however, that Adam did not just name the animals – like I named my dog – and acknowledge that none of them were a suitable partner. The pope surprisingly adds that it was precisely through his body that Adam figured out that he was different from the animals. Now that should shock us. Why? Well, usually people think that our bodies make us similar to the animals. But John Paul disagrees. Try wrap your mind around this insight – this first syllable of Christ’s first word – because this is exactly the three-dimensional thinking of the theology of the body: namely, our body makes us different from the animals.

Let me share a lengthy quotation from the text of the pope’s theology of the body to give you a taste of how he writes. John Paul’s theology is meaty, and the 532 pages of his book are like that Amarillo, Texas 72 ounce steak that only a few can eat all at once. The Holy Father reflects on Gn 2:19-20, and explains: "Man, formed in this way, belongs to the visible world: he is a body among bodies…The body, by which man shares in the visible created world, makes him at the same time aware of being ‘alone’. Otherwise, he would not have been able to arrive at this conviction, which in fact he reached (as we read in Gen. 2:20), if his body had not helped him to understand it, making the matter evident to him” (Man and Woman He Created Them, 152).

Did you catch that innovative insight? The pope is arguing that it is not just the soul that makes us different from the animals – and certainly it does – but the body does too. In fact, John Paul will dare to go even further and claim that the body makes us similar to God! He writes, therefore, what could arguably be the thesis statement of the whole theology of the body: “The [human] body, in fact, and only the [human] body, is capable of making visible what is invisible: the spiritual and the divine. It has been created to transfer into the visible reality of the world the mystery hidden from eternity in God, and thus to be a sign of it” (Man and Woman He Created Them, 203).

Now, I admit that this spiritual, divine capability of the body may be hard to visualize when we look at our own bodies, which often look more like poor Mr. Magoo. Remember that cartoon character who was rather weak, frail, potbellied, gray-haired, blind, subject to disease and finally death? How could this body, which Hamlet described as “this quintessence of dust” (Hamlet, II, ii), make us similar to God? Exactly the opposite seems self-evident! But even if we are blind to that vision, that is precisely what Adam saw: the body was a sign of the divine. The pope calls this “Original Solitude” because Adam’s body taught him he was alone and unlike the animals. You see, before original sin, Adam was capable of this sort of three-dimensional thinking, or put differently, he spoke the theology of the body fluently. It is our sinful state (after original sin) that limits us to our two-dimensional thinking and makes us stutter trying to pronounce this first syllable of the first word of Christ. Original sin darkens the intellect and therefore causes us to think that our bodies make us like the animals. Let me leave with you a startling example.

On April 25, 2022, Newsweek reported the remarkable story of Deborah Hodge in London who legally married her cat, named India. Why couldn’t she have named her cat “Pakistan”? In any case, her landlord threatened to evict her because he did not allow pets. So Deborah decided to marry her cat to prove that the cat was her spouse rather than her pet. Listen to Deborah’s logic (and many modern people would have no difficulty agreeing): “I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, so I married my cat! I recited vows under the universe that no man will ever tear myself and India apart.” Thinking you can marry your cat is an extreme example of two-dimensional thinking because we think there is essentially no difference between human bodies and animals bodies. On the other hand, when we grasp what John Paul means by “Original Solitude” we can enunciate the first syllable of the first word of Christ.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Christmas All Year

Celebrating the birth of Jesus every Sunday

12/25/2023

Lk 2:1-14 In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying: “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

At Christmas time everyone is looking to give the perfect gift. For instance, I recently heard this story. A young woman’s older mother got a fax machine at her office. This was very new technology for the mother. The daughter suggested sending their correspondence by fax instead of using the old, slower post office. The daughter kept insisting the fax was a faster and a less expensive way to communicate than by snail mail.

But her mother, a rather old-fashioned lady, continued to send her mail by weekly letters. At Christmas, however, her mother showed that now she had a full grasp of the new technology. She faxed her daughter a $100 bill with the note: “Merry Christmas, Darling! You’re right! It is cheaper to fax than to mail. Love, Mom.” Some communication is still better by snail mail.

Now, personally, the best Christmas gift ideas I learned from Archbishop Peter Sartain, our former bishop. He told me that when he travels for business or on vacation to foreign countries he doesn’t look for souvenirs, he looks for Christmas presents. Well, recently I took a page out of his book. This past January I went back to India for my cousin’s wedding. While there I went Christmas shopping and bought 25 hand-crafted, ornate throw pillow covers.

At the time, my brother rolled his eyes as I hauled these pillow covers through airports and customs checks, and patiently stored them for 11 months. But now I have the perfect Christmas present for the church staff. And the best part is, only one of us was running around doing last minute shopping. I recently read that 142 million Americans were still shopping on December 23rd, so my brother was not alone. In other words, Archbishop Sartain helped me to think about Christmas all year around.

In the gospel of Luke, we see the inspired evangelist thinking about Christmas gift-giving all year long, too. How so? Well, we know the first and best Christmas present was the Baby Jesus born in Bethlehem. But did you catch certain clues that St. Luke drops that Jesus would be the gift that keeps on giving all year long? First of all the town where Jesus is born was Bethlehem, which means in Hebrew “house of bread.” And secondly, the Baby Jesus is placed in a manger, a feeding trough for animals.

Saints and scholars up and down the centuries have insisted these clues were intentionally recorded by Luke to reveal that Jesus was not just God-made-Man at Christmas, but he would eventually become God-made-Bread at every Mass to feed the whole world. In other words, the Eucharist, the Mass, Holy Communion, was symbolized in the circumstances of Jesus’ birth.

In other words, being born in Bethlehem and placed in a manger were not accidents of Jesus’ birth, they were accent marks of his birth. That is, these details accentuated how Jesus would be the Gift that keeps on giving, not only all year long, but even down the centuries, until we arrive at this Mass today, where God is not made Flesh but Food sacramentally, and not at the announcement of an angel, but at the pronouncement a priest.

Here are some more clues about how we celebrate Christmas all year long in the Catholic Church. At most Sunday Masses throughout the year we sing the great hymn “Gloria” that the angel choirs first sang at Bethlehem, “Gloria in excelsis Deo!” (Glory to God in the highest!). That’s why Catholic churches have choir lofts, because the musicians are the modern angels “we have heard on high, singing sweetly o’er the plains.”

Furthermore, at Mass every Sunday we see fulfilled the prophesy of Isaiah 9:6, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given.” You see, that prophesy was fulfilled initially 2,000 years ago at the first Christmas, but it is re-fulfilled sacramentally at every Mass. How? Because this church is the true Bethlehem, the house of Eucharistic Bread. And this altar is the true manger, not a trough for animals, but a table for God’s children to enjoy the Bread of Angels, which by the way, the angels don’t even get to taste. Why not? Because angels don’t have any teeth.

Folks, let me urge you to think about Christmas the way Archbishop Sartain taught me. Oh, I don’t mean just to remember to buy cool gifts all year long when you go on a long trip and just to make your older brother jealous. (Although that is pretty awesome, too.) Rather, try to remember that the greatest gift of Christmas is Jesus himself, and he is available all year long in the House of Bread, your local church, and lying in a manger, called the altar.

You know, sometimes I joke that today is when our CEO Catholics show up for Mass. C.E.O. is not "Chief Executive Officer," but “Christmas and Easter Only.” Now, I’m just kidding, and I am very grateful that all of you are here. In fact, I consider it no small miracle that anyone at anytime walks through the doors of a Catholic Church. Why? Because there are so many other interesting places you can go and fascinating people you can meet. But only in this place can you find the one Person that is the Baby born who was in Bethlehem and who now has become the Food to feed the whole world. You don’t have to wait till December 25 to celebrate Christmas. We celebrate Christmas here all year long.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The First Word, Part 1

Learning the language of the theology of the body

12/23/2023

As we come to the end of Advent and start the Christmas season, I want to share a series of homilies on Pope St. John Paul II's theology of the body. When God became man at Christmas the human body became indispensable for theology, and knowing God. It is no exaggeration to say that the pope’s synthesis of Scripture and sexuality has revolutionized Catholic theology. George Weigel stated in his biography on John Paul: “In [the theology of the body], John Paul II, so often dismissed as ‘rigidly conservative,’ proposed one of the boldest reconfigurations of Catholic theology in centuries” (Witness to Hope, 336). In my opinion John Paul II appropriated the insights of the modern philosophies of phenomenology and personalism to explain the whole Catholic faith, similar to how Thomas Aquinas harnessed Aristotle’s philosophy in the thirteenth century, and before him Augustine employed the philosophy of Plato in the fifth century. That is, John Paul II has rewritten the ancient Christian faith using a new language more compelling and convincing to modern believers. In the following homilies I want to help you become fluent in that language.

I first learned about the theology of the body when my friend, Fr. Erik Pohlmeier (now bishop) handed me a set of cassette tapes by Christopher West on the theology of the body and said, “You should listen to this.” You youngsters will have to google what “cassette tapes” are. I had to listen to those tapes several times before I finally saw the brilliance of the pope’s ground-breaking theology. Later in 2006, Michael Waldstein published the book John Paul himself had written on the theology of the body called Man and Woman He Created Them. I have read that 532-page book several times, and I feel I have still only skimmed the surface of all the Holy Father has to say. Nonetheless, I believe I have reached a certain level of fluency with the pope’s theology, and I feel confident I can share with you the rudiments of this new language. The best way to learn any new language, of course, is in an immersion program, where you live in the land where the language is spoken. I hope you will immerse yourself in this theology by reading the pope’s book yourself, and live in his 532-page land. Sorry, you cannot borrow my cassette tapes!

Even though the theology of the body is a book, that is not how it originally saw the light of day. John Paul had written it during the 1970’s while still archbishop of Krakow. When Cardinal Karol Wojtyla – John Paul’s baptismal name – was elected as the successor of Peter in 1978, the book was still a manuscript and unpublished. Instead of publishing it, the new pope decided to spoon-feed the theology of the body to the Church over the course of five years, like a loving mother spoon-feeds soft baby food to her child. As the Letter to the Hebrews noted: “You need milk, not solid food” (Hb 5:12). Therefore, from September 5, 1979 until November 28, 1984, the pope introduced the theology of the body to the Church and to the world in roughly fifteen minute bite-sized addresses on Wednesdays during his General Audience. Incidentally, the pope had to excise some of his rich reflections on the Old Testament books of Song of Songs and Tobit in the interest of time. That is, they are in the book but not in the addresses. You always get more out of reading the book than watching the movie.

Let’s crack open the pope’s book and look at the landscape. The text itself is divided into two major halves, rather like the Bible. The first half is called “The Words of Christ,” and the second half is titled, “The Sacrament.” But it is in the first part where the pope teaches us the new language of the theology of the body, which, after all, are rooted in Christ’s words. Once we become fluent in theology of the body in the first half, the pope uses it to talk about the great sacrament of marriage in the second part. By the way, do you know what the pope’s stated purpose was for this book? This may come as a surprise to contemporary Catholics, but John Paul’s aim is to present a thoroughly Scriptural and philosophically formidable rationale for why the Catholic Church teaches that contraception is immoral. The pope explained his strategy: "If I draw particular attention precisely to these final catecheses [devoted to Humanae Vitae, Pope Paul VI’s encyclical prohibiting contraception], I do so not only because the topic discussed by them is more closely connected with our present age, but first of all because it is from this topic that the questions spring that run in some way through the whole of our reflections” (Man and Woman He Created Them, 662, pope’s emphasis). That is, even if the vast majority of Western Catholics feel the Church has missed the boat by prohibiting contraception, the pope-saint vigorously disagrees.

Incidentally, this is not the first time the majority of Jesus’ disciples got it wrong. After our Lord’s most explicit teaching on the Eucharist in John 6, we hear: “Many of his disciples, when they heard it, said, ‘This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” (Jn 6:60). This doubt then leads to large-scale defections from the ranks: “After this many of his disciples drew back and no longer walked with him” (Jn 6:66). I am convinced that if we become fluent in the language of the theology of the body we will see why the Church is right on contraception and the majority report is dead wrong. But defending the Church’s teaching about contraception is not all the theology of the body is for. That is one small victory. But the larger war the theology of the body is waging is to present the strongest case for Catholic Christianity available today. George Weigel quotes a Roman theologian, by adding: "Angelo Scola, rector of the Pontifical Lateran University of Rome, goes so far as to suggest that virtually every thesis in theology – God, Christ, the Trinity, grace, the Church, the sacraments – could be seen in a new light if theologians explored in depth the rich personalism implied in John Paul II’s theology of the body” (Witness to Hope, 343). In sum, John Paul II has given the Church an entirely new language to articulate the Christian faith that will ring true in modern ears.

Let me quickly summarize the first half of the theology of the body, “The Words of Christ,” where we learn the basic vocabulary of this new language. You will be happy to know there are only three words of Christ that we have to master speaking, so that should be easy! Incidentally, by “word” I don’t mean a single word like “cat” or “dog” but a sentence or a thought by Jesus. His first word is found in Mt 19:8, where Jesus speaks about the indissolubility of marriage by going back to the beginning in the Garden of Eden. His second word is spoken in Mt 5:28 and touches on concupiscence in the heart and redefines morality from the heart. And Jesus’ third word is uttered in Mt 22:30, where Jesus appeals to the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the blessed in heaven. In other words, Pope John Paul insists that when we learn to speak these three words of Christ, we will master a new language to express our faith and evangelize the world. Changing metaphors, each “word” forms one panel in a tryptic – a three-panel altar piece – that paints a picture of “the integral vision of man” – what a human being is. Vatican II said that “Christ…fully reveals man to man himself and makes his supreme calling clear” (Gaudium et Spes, 22). That is, Christ reveals who we are in three simple words: our origins, our pilgrimage, and our destiny. The theology of the body is the most important language you can learn – more urgent than Spanish or Mandarin, or Arabic – because it will tell you who you truly are. And it is the easiest language you can learn because it only has three words.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

The Blessing Bombshell

Understanding the pope’s declaration about blessings

12/19/2023

Yesterday morning my phone started blowing up with text messages from people concerned with the pope’s decision to allow the blessing of divorced and remarried Catholics and same-sex couples. One person said, “Hey, Father, you may want to address this in a homily.” And I thought, dang, I was supposed to give a short homily today and take a break. Oh well.

My first step was to read the actual statement, technically called a “declaration.” The Latin title – always the first two or three words of the document itself – is “Fiducia Supplicans” which means “supplicating trust.” And the document was written not by Pope Francis himself but his chief doctrinal czar, Cardinal Victor Manuel Fernandez. Although, it was fully approved and authorized by the Holy Father.

As I read the declaration, I kept waiting to find the bombshell, the lines that stated the Church had made some dramatic new change in teaching. Maybe I missed it, but I never found it. The document lays out clearly, in several places, that the Church’s teaching on marriage has not changed. For instance, in no. 4, we read: “Rites and prayers that could create confusion between what constitutes marriage – which is the exclusive, stable, and indissoluble union between a man and a woman naturally open to the generation of children – and what contradicts it are inadmissible…The Church’s doctrine on this point remains firm.” So, that bomb has been diffused: the pope is not changing the Church’s teaching on marriage.

Then, after listing the biblical and theological background on blessings – a very rich section, by the way – the document distinguishes between formal, liturgical blessings and a spontaneous, informal blessing, like when someone asks me to bless a new rosary, or their new baby, or their new car after Mass. In other words, besides the official blessings listed in the Book of Blessings – which every priest gets ten copies of at his ordination – the declaration explains: “There are several occasions when people spontaneously ask for a blessing, whether on pilgrimages, at shrines, or even on the street when they meet a priest” (no. 28).

So, we might say there are Blessings with a capital “B”, which are formal and liturgical, and there are blessings with a small letter “b” which are simple and spontaneous. Not all blessings are created equal. And the declaration’s purpose is to reiterate our firm teaching about the first (big B Blessings) and to invite priests and deacons to be more generous and liberal with the second (little b blessings).

Finally, the declaration gets to the hot-button topics of blessing divorced and remarried Catholics or same-sex couples. Here the document takes pains several times to distinguish between big B Blessings and little b blessings. For instance, we read: “It is essential to grasp the Holy Father’s concern that these non-ritualized blessings [little b] never cease being simple gestures that provide an effective means of increasing trust in God on the part of the people who ask for them, careful that they should not become a liturgical or semi-liturgical act [big B], similar to a sacrament” (no. 36).

By the way, what the pope is saying is essentially something lots of priests, myself included, have been doing for years. At weddings and funerals, for example, I invite everyone in the congregation to come up at Communion. I invite those who are Catholic and can receive Holy Communion to come forward to do so. But I also add that those who are not Catholic or cannot receive Communion – and here I mean Catholics who need to go to confession first, or maybe divorced and remarried Catholics, or even same-sex couples, or Protestants – to fold their arms over their chests to come forward and receive a blessing.

Now, I recognize and respect the fact that not all priests do that. Everyone is trying to use his own pastoral judgment about what is best. Indeed, in many countries and cultures most of the Catholic congregation does not receive Holy Communion but remain in their pews. So, that invitation to receive a blessing, again with a little b, can seem surprising, or maybe even scandalous to some, priests and people alike.

This pastoral practice and sensitivity that is commonplace here in the United States, it seems to me, is what this declaration is trying to encourage world-wide, and suggesting that is the best way to respond to Catholic’s “trusting supplication” of God for his blessings, even though their lives are still a work-in-progress. Thus, we read: “Therefore, the pastoral sensibility of ordained ministers should also be formed to perform blessings spontaneously that are not found in the Book of Blessings” (no. 35). In other words, the declaration is saying be more generous with the little b blessings, but don’t forget we haven’t changed anything regarding the big B Blessings.

My friends, let me encourage you to read the declaration for yourself. It is only 45 paragraphs and will only take a few minutes. The middle section on the biblical and theological background about blessings is rich. I suspect some people may distort what the declaration says – conservatives overly criticizing it, while liberals overly lauding it, but both missing the point. My reading of the text did not find any ticking time-bombs about dramatic changes. It sounded like solid Catholic teaching to me.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Apologia Pro Vita Sua, Act 3

The third and last step of my discernment

12/18/2023

The third and last step of my discernment came with the insight of hindsight. Everyone has heard that hindsight is twenty-twenty. That is, after we go through an experience – say high school or college – and reflect back on it, we see with supreme clarity what we should have done at the time. I always wanted to play football in high school, but my parents said we don’t need any more medical bills. They were right, of course, but I’ve always regretted not playing wide-receiver for the Catholic High Rockets.

Stephen Covey, the widely-respected leadership expert, listed hindsight as the second of his famous “seven habits of highly effective people”. Covey explained the power of hindsight in these terms: To begin with the end in mind means to start with a clear understanding of your destination. It means to know where you are going so that you can better understand where you are now and so the steps you take are always in the right direction…if the ladder is not leaning against the right wall, every step we take just gets us to the wrong place faster” (The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, 98).

Then Covey invites his reader to do a startling “visualization experience” (p. 97), where the reader attends his or her own funeral. Covey helps the reader picture the funeral chapel, and says they will hear eulogies about themselves. Then he adds: Now think deeply. What would you like each of these speakers to say about your life? What kind of husband, wife, father or mother would you like their words to reflect? What kind of son, daughter, or cousin? What kind of friend? What kind of working associate? What kind of character would you like them to have seen in you…What kind of difference would you like to have made in their lives?” (p. 97). Covey believes that our answers to these questions will be how each person defines a truly successful life. Can you see how Covey harnesses the power of hindsight in order to help people to identify their best life?

My third step, or Act III, therefore, is an exploration of hindsight’s insights about the priesthood. That is, I intend to use hindsight to see my life sort of “bassackwards” and thus discover my own definition of a successful life. Instead of the funeral conceit, though, I would take Covey’s ladder of success and lean it against two walls, and try to imagine myself as two different eighty year-old men. One old dude would be a business man. In the other scenario – the other wall for my ladder – would be a priest. After picturing myself as these two octogenarians, I would interrogate myself: “If you had the chance to live your life over again, John, is this is way you would have lived it?” Remember Charles Dickens’ classic A Christmas Carol? In this third act, I would play the part of the Ghost of Christmas Future and also cast myself as Ebenezer Scrooge.

Now, how would I know which wall represented my best life? My heart would tell me. Either my eighty year-old heart would beat with peace and joy, suggesting this was my best life. Or, I might feel a twinge of regret or sadness, meaning my ladder was leaning against the wrong wall. St. Augustine knew we could trust our hearts to lead us to the truth when he wrote unforgettably: “For you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you” (Confessions, I, i). In other words, the feelings of either rest or restlessness in my eighty year-old heart would tell me which wall was my most successful life.

My first wall would be Mr. John Antony the businessman. By this point I no longer entertained the youthful ideal of the life of a poor college professor married with ten children. Rather, I imagined a picturesque distant future after a delicious Thanksgiving supper with my family. Everyone had sauntered to the front yard to enjoy the evening sun and breeze, like our first parents “heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day” (Gn 3:8). I sit on the front porch swing of my capacious retirement home nestled in the woods. With the children and grandchildren gallivanting in the front yard, I reach over to hold the hand of my wife of fifty years, Sandra Bullock. Hey, this is my wall. You can place whatever bricks you want in your wall, like Pink Floyd sang.

As Sandra and I swing slowly, I muse over my life. I recall how a college professor convinced me to change majors from philosophy to finance. Oh, and did I mention I made the winning touchdown in the championship game in college catching a fifty-yard pass? I remember landing my first job in the corporate office of a world-wide retailer. A satisfied smile crosses my face thinking of the struggles, challenges, and lessons I learned about life and leadership as I climbed the company ladder and became CEO. There is a twinkle in my eye as I remember that business trip to California and meeting Sandra at a restaurant where she fell head-over-heels in love with me. Images of marriage, children, vacations, new homes, graduations, walking daughters down the aisle, grandchildren all flash before my eyes now moistening with tears. I feel the joy Jesus promised: “good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap” (Lk 6:38). And suddenly the train of my memories arrives at the station of the present moment on Thanksgiving Day. I am still swinging on the front porch with Sandra, and the sun has almost set.

Then I ask my octogenarian self: “If you could live this life over again, John, is this what you would do?” Now, I admit, someone else’s heart may reply differently, but my heart answered with what St. Augustine called “restlessness.” That is, in spite of how wonderful this life had been – and surely marriage, children, and grandchildren are of inestimable worth! Still, I feel a sense of sadness and regret, as if the ladder of my life were leaning against the wrong wall. That is, with the help of hindsight I could see this was not “the best version of myself” as Mathew Kelly likes to say. But would the cleric Fr. John Antony’s life be any better? Let’s find out bassackwards.

Now I lean my ladder against the wall of “Fr. John Antony”. Oh, why don’t we say “Monsignor John Antony”? Heck, why not “Bishop Antony”? While we’re at it, let’s just make it “Archbishop Antony”! Again, my wall. Now, I picture myself as an archbishop serving as a chaplain for a cloistered monastery of Carmelite nuns. One warm afternoon I walk the monastery gardens and finger the rosary beads. My nose fills with the scents of roses and lilacs the sisters prayerfully prune. My mind not only reflects on the mysteries of the rosary, but also on the mysteries of my life: the joyful, luminous, sorrowful, and glorious events that have punctuated my own past.

For example, I recall the luminous days of seminary studies full of philosophy and theology, studying the saints and scholars that have shaped our faith up and down the centuries. I remember the joyful day of my ordination: lying prostrate on the cold, marble Cathedral floor as a total oblation to God. I heard the bishop speak for Christ: “We choose this man, our brother, for the Order of Priesthood.” I fondly recall the parishes I served, the babies I baptized, the couples I married, the first Communions I distributed. But then I recall the sorrowful moments, too: counseling struggling couples, comforting grieving families at a funeral, anointing the sick in the hospital or in hospice. And of course, how I can never erase the glorious event of being called by the pope to become a bishop, a successor of the Apostles? St. Paul taught his protégé, St. Timothy: “This saying is sure: If anyone aspires to bishop, he desires a noble task” (1 Tm 3:10). And called again to become a “metropolitan,” the canonical term for an archbishop. To follow in the footsteps of the apostles is a glorious gift indeed. A rosary should resonate not only with the life of Jesus and Mary, but also echo our own lives.

And then I interrogate this praying prelate: “If you had a chance to live your life over, John, is this the life you would choose?” Now if I have successfully slipped my feet into the shoes of this old archbishop (who is me), I will perceive in his/my heart a visceral response. Again, someone else may feel differently, but I feel what St. Augustine called “rest”, that is, contentment and peace. I could answer without hesitation that I would live this same life a million times over. Perhaps this is what the Olympic runner Eric Liddell in the movie “Chariots of Fire” meant when he explained to his sister: “Jenny, God made me fast. And when I run, I feel his pleasure.” When our ladder is leaning against the right wall, we feel God’s pleasure.

Robert Frost, in his celebrated poem “The Road Not Taken”, employed hindsight to choose between two roads. He wrote:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

In other words, the best way to avoid a “sigh” in writing poems – or in making decisions – is to tap into hindsight, to begin with the end in mind, to look at your life bassackwards, and find the best version of yourself. I began this three Act play with the joke that I decided to become a priest because I could not find some beautiful girl to marry and have ten kids together. Well, I did meet a beautiful woman, marry her, and have ten kids together all in my mind, and I would still choose the priesthood. End of Act III.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Queens versus Bishops

Seeing how obeying others brings greater joy

12/17/2023

Jn 1:6-8, 19-28 A man named John was sent from God. He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to testify to the light. And this is the testimony of John. When the Jews from Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to him to ask him, “Who are you?” He admitted and did not deny it, but admitted, “I am not the Christ.” So they asked him, “What are you then? Are you Elijah?” And he said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” He answered, “No.” So they said to him, “Who are you, so we can give an answer to those who sent us? What do you have to say for yourself?” He said: “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert, ‘make straight the way of the Lord,’” asIsaiah the prophet said.”

This December I celebrate ten years as pastor of Immaculate Conception. By the way, I never last that long in a parish, so this is no small miracle! I want to tell you how I became pastor of IC because it is rather humorous. I had just returned from three months with the Carmelites in Dallas, discerning a call to become a Carmelite friar. The bishop invited me to have lunch with him at an Indian restaurant in Little Rock.

Toward the end of the meal, he said, “John I was thinking of sending you to Fort Smith to be the pastor of Immaculate Conception. What do you think of that?” I answered, “Well, I don’t know much about IC or Fort Smith but if that’s where you need me, I will go.” After the meal as we walked to our cars, he handed me an envelope. I got into my car and opened it, hoping for money inside, but there wasn’t any.

Instead, it was my letter of appointment as pastor of I.C.! Then I opened my email as I let my car warm up. There was already an email from the bishop to the entire diocese announcing I would be the new pastor of I.C.! It was sent by the bishop’s secretary as soon as he got into the car and called her. In other words, the bishop really did not need my advice about my appointment, and sometimes that is best.

Recently I was reading in the Catholic news about the new auxiliary bishop in Boston, Cristiano Barbosa. The article said: “He recalled driving to a pastoral council [meeting] around 6 p.m." Fr. Barbosa said: “I received this call in English with a French accent. Cardinal Pierre said, ‘Please stop the car.’ I said, ‘I’m on Bluetooth,’ and he said, ‘No, stop the car’.” Then he told him he would be bishop. Barbosa also joked that his 10 year-old nephew exclaimed: 'Hey, now you are finally a piece on the chess board!'” A bishop.

But even the mighty bishops on a chess board do not move themselves. They are moved by the players. They are told where to go. In other words, we priests and bishops are sent by others to serve the people of God. And we find a wonderful joy in doing the will of another rather than our own. I have found a tremendous amount of joy in the last 10 years, and I know some of you have too.

Today is called Gaudete Sunday, which is Latin and means, “Rejoice, ya’ll!” I remember Archbishop Sartain once joked that the plural of “ya’ll” is “all of ya’ll”. And our Scriptures are examples of the joy that comes from being sent and serve others, moved like chess pieces on the board. In the first reading Isaiah says, “The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, etc.” You may remember Jesus quotes that passage from Is 61 as he inaugurates his public ministry in Luke 4:18.

In the second reading from 1 Thess 5, St. Paul urges the early Greek Christians to “rejoice always.” Why rejoice? He adds a little later, “The one who calls you is faithful.” That is, joy comes from hearing and answering God's call, and then being sent to serve others, like Bishop Barbosa did on his Bluetooth device, and like I did at that Indian restaurant.

And finally in the gospel, St. John the Baptist, the last and greatest prophet, heeds his call. We read in Jn 1: “A man named John was sent from God." Again, John was filled with irrepressible joy even though he was clothed in camel’s hair and ate locusts and wild honey as we heard last Sunday. How could anyone find joy in those circumstances? John’s joy came from fulfilling God’s plans rather than from the creature comforts we sometimes think are so essential for our happiness. God’s plans for us are perfect and bring joy, and he doesn’t need our advice for our appointments.

My friends, let me invite you to try to see how your real and lasting joy comes from doing God’s will rather than your own. For example, I tell young people thinking about becoming a priest or nun: the worst question you can ask yourself is, “Do I want to be a priest?” Rather ask yourself, “Does God want me to become a priest?” Can you hear the difference? That is the difference between true and lasting joy in God’s will and temporary and fading happiness in our plans.

Someone sent me an email last week that had this funny line: “When a kid says, “Daddy, I want mommy,” that’s a kid version of “I’d like to speak to your supervisor.” The ladies in the church office love to share their favorite homily by Msgr. John O’Donnell. The former pastor of I.C. said: “What ever happened to Claudia, Pilate’s wife? Why does God give us wives? If he doesn’t give them to us for us to listen to…Their insights…Their inspirations…Pilate didn’t listen that day” when she told him not to crucify Jesus. Incidentally, anyone who thinks women need to be priests in order to have power in the church hasn’t visited the church office lately. After all, the queen is more powerful than a bishop, and I am not talking about a chess board.

Folks, the world tells us to insist on always getting our way. We say, “My way or the highway!” But the Christian highway is paved with doing what God wants rather than traveling down our own road. And only one of these two roads eventually leads to true and lasting joy. That is the deepest meaning of Christmas, a Baby born to do his Father’s will rather than his own. And so the Church says today: “Rejoice, all of ya’ll!

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Apologia Pro Vita Sua, Act 2

My second step toward seminary and priesthood

12/13/2023

My second step toward seminary and priesthood came with a second blinding insight that may seem obvious at first, but is not as obvious as the nose on your face, namely, seeking God’s will rather than our own. My best friend growing up, David Beck, and I were discussing what we wanted to do after college. We were both philosophy majors at the University of Dallas, which meant we were learning more and more about less and less, a lot of theory and very little praxis. David was not sure what path he wanted to pursue. Today he is the campus doctor at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville. I, however, said confidently: “I want to be a philosophy professor and get married and have ten kids!” My vocational feet were faltering after that first step I had taken back in high school.

But then I continued: “I have a feeling, though, God may be calling me to the priesthood. If only I knew what God wanted, I would be happy to do it.” Then David rephrased and reflected my words, so that I could hear myself talking. David is a master of reflective listening. He answered: “Well, it is probably better to want to do God’s will but not know it, than to know God’s will but not want to do it.” And we both laughed as we remembered the poor prophet Jonah who needed a whale to convince him to do God’s will. And as St. James would write in the New Testament: “Be doers of the word and not hearers only, deluding yourselves” (Jas 1:22). In other words, David helped me see there is often a sharp difference – even a conflict – between what I want and what God’s wants. I want to be a teacher; God wants me to be a preacher. Why is this insight important?

Well, because how do we usually go about making major decisions about our career path, or the person to marry, or the place to raise a family, etc.? We try to figure out what we really want. And even if we consult others (or even the horoscope), in the end it is my will and my plans that I am trying to execute. I tell young people today who might be thinking about the priesthood: The worst question you can ask yourself is do I want to be a priest? Rather, ask yourself: does God want me to be a priest? Can you hear the difference between those two questions?

How differently we might approach questions about marriage, career, where to raise a family if our first question was always: “Does God want me to marry this person, does God want me to pursue this career, does God want me to live in this community?” Our Hispanics use a phrase that constantly keeps God’s will paramount, saying: “Primero Dios”, meaning, “God’s will first.” Or, as we say in the South: “God willing and the creek don’t rise.” And so when God is not willing or the creek does rise, that is better than my plans. That is, what God wants and what I want can be – and often are – two different things. Before I can choose his will I must know it is rarely synonymous with my will.

With a little reflection, we see that God’s will and our wills are in conflict not infrequently. For example, God wants us to get up when the alarm rings the first time, but we want to be lazy and sleep in. God wants me to have only two olives in my martini, but I want to have three martinis. God wants us to go to Mass every Sunday, but we want to watch football all day. The eyes of our wants are always bigger than the plate of God’s will that has been prepared for us. Humanity is like the defiant little toddler who loves to shout, “No!” to everything God the Father asks of us.

C. S. Lewis described this stark contrast of wills memorably in his book The Great Divorce (my favorite Lewis book). He wrote: “There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God: ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says, ‘Thy will be done.’ All that are in Hell, choose it” (p. 75). Maybe that is why a baby is born with clenched fists – clutching tightly to his own will – while an old man dies with his hands open, saying in effect, “Thy will be done,” like when we open our hands to pray the Lord’s Prayer and say, “Thy will be done.”

Jesus concludes his masterful Sermon on the Mount in both Matthew and Luke with the parable of the two foundations, which could also be called the parable of the two wills. (Mt 7:24-27). We know the parable well: a wise man builds his house on a foundation of rock, while a foolish man builds on a foundation of sand. In both cases rains fall, floods come, and winds blow and buffet the two houses. And, we can easily guess the outcome for both builders: safety for the first and disaster for the second. Even though Jesus says they build "on my words", our Savior's words and actions are interchangeable. His word is his will.

Jesus’ point, I believe, is that the wise man desires to know God’s will and therefore builds his house on the rock of God’s eternal plans that are solid and rock-like. The fool, on the other hand, constructs the house of his life on the shifting sands of his own opinions. How so? Well, what I wanted to do as a twenty year-old may not be what I want to do as a forty year-old, when I hit my mid-life crisis, and want to marry my younger secretary. This is why all good decision-making begins by seeking God’s will above our own, knowing they are not the same, and even having a healthy suspicion of our own wills as tending to selfishness and sin. Why? Because the rains, the floods, and the winds are coming.

Now, let me return to this second step of discernment and apply this important insight of choosing God’s will for a man called to the priesthood. A few years before ordination I attended a retreat in Braintree, Massachusetts given by priests of Opus Dei. They have a reputation for being super-conservative, but they are also super-smart. One elderly priest, who only gave one brief talk, made a passing remark that I have never forgotten. He explained that throughout seminary formation a young man tries to hear God’s voice calling him. At best, however, he is only guessing that God wants him to be a priest.

But on the day of his ordination, he hears God’s voice not only in his heart but with his own ears. How so? Well, the ordaining bishop, after making sure the candidates are properly prepared, solemnly states: “Relying on the help of God and our Savior Jesus Christ, we choose these, our brothers, for the Order of Priesthood.” In that moment of the liturgy, a bishop speaks not only with the authority of the apostles – of which he is a successor – but with the authority of Christ himself. Hence he employs the “royal we.” And a young man finally hears aloud what he has believed and hoped for years, namely, that God has chosen him for the “Order of Priesthood.” Primero Dios, indeed.

From that marvelous moment onward, all doubts, fears, anxieties, uncertainties, insecurities, etc. are laid to rest in every priest’s heart. Each ordinand henceforth knows he is doing God’s will and is building on solid rock, and not on the shifting sands of his own will. Even if later a man decides he cannot fulfill the duties of priesthood and the promise of celibacy and leaves the public ministry, the Church may relieve him of pastoral care and the obligation of celibacy, but she does not, for an instant, renege on her conviction that God has called this man to priesthood. Divine Providence is not so fickle. In other words, a priest is not returned to the lay state – and the common parlance of laicization is a misnomer – but is relieved of his public duties of administration of a parish and the sacraments. As it says in Psalm 110:4, “The Lord has sworn and will not waver: you are a priest forever in the manner of Melechizedek.” On the chalice I use at Mass are inscribed the Latin words, “Tu es sacerdos in aeternum,” meaning, “You are a priest forever,” which by the way, means even in heaven, where God’s will is fulfilled flawlessly.

End of Act 2

 

Apologia Pro Vita Sua, Act 1

Giving an explanation for my decision to pursue the priesthood

12/12/2023

Have I ever shared with you the real reason I decided to become a priest? I like to joke it was because I could not find some unsuspecting beautiful Catholic girl to marry me and have ten children. Actually, there is more truth to that joke than I care to admit. But I want to take a moment and explain my vocational decision because this choice is not only counter-cultural in America, but sounds down-right crazy in any culture. Why would any healthy, red-blooded, virile young man choose a life of celibacy, church service, and a salary slightly above the poverty line? In other words, I want to present what St. John Henry Newman titled his autobiography, an “apologia pro vita sua,” meaning a defense of one’s life. Just like he took pains to justify his conversion from an Anglican to a Catholic, so I want to take a minute to explain my decision to choose celibacy over marriage, poverty over affluence, taking orders instead of taking charge, in a word, the priesthood.

My final decision to be ordained happened in three major steps, each marked by three blinding insights. I would like to present them in three "Acts" so this is "Act 1". The first step or insight occurred when I was seven years old, and it was a traumatic experience. Incidentally, I think many people find their life purpose in some trauma, trial, or tribulation. Tragedy has a powerful way of opening our eyes to who we are supposed to be. When I was seven – as I have shared before – my family left India and moved to the United States. That may sound like a dream-come-true for many immigrants, but not for me. I felt like overnight I had lost everything: my friends, my food, my music, my language, my neighborhood, in short, everything I valued as a little boy. It was “the end of the world as I knew it” to paraphrase the rock band, R.E.M.

But hidden within every trauma or tragedy, I believe, is a golden seed of grace. Like St. Paul taught the Romans, that seed of grace eventually blossoms into something far bigger than the trauma is was born from. St. Paul wrote: “Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more” (Rm 5:20). St. Paul means mainly a spiritual tragedy, but I think the same can be said for all tragedies. What was this golden grace I received as a little boy? It was the insight that in the end we lose everything that we hold dear, that is, when we die. Think about it: everyone will eventually experience what I did as a seven year-old when they die: “the end of the world as we know it.” But there is one Thing we will never lose even after death, namely, God. Dt 1:31 describes this sense of God sustaining us like a father carrying a son, saying: “You have seen how the Lord your God bore you, as a man bears his son, in all the way that you went until you came to this place.” And that “place” to which God the Father carried his son Israel was the Promised Land.

In other words, that childhood trauma taught me a profound truth – perhaps it is the most profound truth of all – namely, that all things are passing and eventually expire. Nothing is ultimately self-sustaining forever. At the same time I learned there is One who is always self-sustaining, that is, God. One of the best descriptions of this difference between the Creator and his creation I have found was by Etienne Gilson. He wrote: "This created universe, of which St. Augustine said that it unceasingly leans over towards the abyss of nothingness, is saved at each moment from collapse into nothingness by the continuous giving of being which, of itself, it could neither give nor preserve” (The Spirit of Mediaeval Philosophy, 71-72)." It is like that bumper-sticker I saw once that said, “There is a God and you ain’t him.” Only One is eternal, everything else – and everyone else – has an expiration date.

So how did this insight about the Eternal versus the expiring help me discern the priesthood? Well, in high school I began asking myself what I wanted to do when I grew up, as all youngster presumably do. But even as a young teenager, I could perceive two important truths that blossomed from that original insight. First, when I did something for others, I felt a deeper joy than when I received something for myself. For instance, one Christmas while in eighth grade, I made straight A’s on my report card (no small miracle). I did not really care about grades back then, and I did that as a gift for my parents (who cared far more). That same Christmas I received a beautiful bike as a present. By the way, it was the fastest bike on the street so I named it “Flash”.

I noticed something curious, though: even though both giving and receiving made me happy, the former (giving) was not only quantitatively better, it was qualitatively better than receiving. It was not only more happiness; it was happiness on another level. This is why we read in Acts 20:35, where Paul quotes Jesus saying something not recorded in the four gospels: “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” I am convinced that this discovery about joys that last versus happiness that fades was a fruit of that seed of golden grace planted in my seven year-old soul. How so? Well, I was far more interested in the Eternal (lasting) joys than those things with an expiration date (fleeting pleasures). And I found that difference in my own feelings, which confirmed that original insight.

Another low-hanging fruit I picked around the same time in high school was that if “giving is more blessed than receiving”, then what was the best way to give, or to help others? Here, again, I noticed a yawning divide between what lasts and is forever and what fades or is temporary. I recognized that there are two ways to help people. You can give people food, shelter, and clothing, that is, take care of their physical material needs. And this is very important, mind you, and not to be neglected! Or, you can provide for their spiritual needs, like helping them know God, teaching them how to read the Bible, praying for others and making sacrifices for them, etc. And I further asked, which of these two needs lasts longer? Clearly the spiritual needs far outweigh the material needs – again, though, we need to fulfill both. After all, I could not compose these thoughts without a good night’s sleep in a firm bed, and a strong cup of coffee at hand.

But did you notice how the seed that was planted in my soul in that early childhood trauma was now bearing great fruit? In other words, the very reason I could catch the difference between enduring joys and fleeting pleasures, and cared more about helping people meet eternal needs and not just earthly needs, was because my heart and head had been pre-programed to ask precisely these questions. Presumably, other teens, my classmates, who had not been so traumatized, were oblivious to such concerns, and went about life as normal kids do. Jeremiah heard God calling him in his mother’s womb, saying: “Before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations” (Jer 1:5). I heard God’s call first when I was seven and grasped the difference between what is eternal and what has an expiration date. Years later I was able to take my first step toward the priesthood when I applied that insight I gained as a child and asked what I should do with my life. That is, God had called me to be a priest long before I even knew there was such things as priests.

End of Act 1.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Apples and Trees

Seeing Jesus was sinless like his Mother Mary

12/08/2023

Eph 1:3-6, 11-12 Brothers and sisters: Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavens, as he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him. In love he destined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ, in accord with the favor of his will, for the praise of the glory of his grace that he granted us in the beloved. In him we were also chosen, destined in accord with the purpose of the One who accomplishes all things according to the intention of his will, so that we might exist for the praise of his glory, we who first hoped in Christ.

Boys and girls, I would like to teach you a really cool saying this morning. It goes, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Raise your hands if you have ever heard that saying before. That means that children (the apples) often end up a lot like their parents (the trees), because they fall “near” them, not far from them. For example, I see a lot of my parents in me. I smile a lot like my mom. I like to talk and tell jokes like my dad. Both my parents work hard, and so do I. My mom and dad love being Catholic, and so do I. Heck, I love it so much, I became a priest!

Now the interesting thing about apples and trees is that we learn both good habits from our parents, but we can also learn from their bad habits. For instance, some parents are doctors and a child may want to grow up and become a doctor like his mother is. That is a good thing to copy. But we might also learn bad habits from our parents, like in the song Cat’s in the Cradle.

Let me share the beginning and end of that song because it shows how the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. It starts: “My child arrived just the other day / He came to the world in the usual way / But there were planes to catch and bills to pay / He learned to walk while I was away / And he was talkin’ ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew / He’d say, “I’m gonna be like you, dad / You know I’m gonna be like you.” By the way, did you notice what the dad was like? He was too busy to spend time with his son.

Now here’s the end of the song: “I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away / I called him up just the other day / I said, “I’d like to see you if you don’t mind” / He said “I’d like to dad, if I could find the time / You see, my new job’s a hassle and the kids have the flu / But it’s sure nice talkin to you, dad, / It’s been sure nice talkin to you.” / And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me / He’d grown up was just like me / My boy was just like me.” In other words, the son had learned the bad habit of working too much and not spending time with his family just like his dad had done. The apple fell very close to the tree.

Now, boys and girls, there was only one tree and one Apple in which there were only good habits and no bad habits to learn. Do you know which tree and which Apple I am talking about? Mother Mary was the tree and Jesus was the Apple. You see, Mary did not have any bad habits to teach Jesus because she was sinless from the moment she was conceived in her mother’s womb, that is, in St. Anne. We call that the Immaculate Conception.

And not only was she conceived without sin, she remained without sin throughout her whole life. In other words, if Mary had written that song “Cat’s in the Cradle” it would have been very different because she would have spent plenty of time with Jesus as a little boy. And as Jesus grew up, he would spend plenty of time with her.

But the song would still have ended with the same lines. Mary would sing: “As I hung up the phone it occurred to me / He’d grow up just like me / My boy was just like me.” That is, Jesus was sinless just like his mother Mary was. Why? Because the sinless apple did not fall far from the sinless tree.

Boys and girls, can I ask you to do a favor today – actually, it’s a favor I want you to do every day? Pray for your mom and dad. They are just human beings like me and you, and sometimes they do great things, and something they mess up. So they need our prayers. Every day say one Our Father for your dad, and one Hail Mary for your mom. And ask God to bless them.

And if you do that every day for the rest of your life, someday when you get married and have kids, they will see that you pray for your mom and dad. And guess what they will do themselves? They will pray for you, their mom and dad. Why? Well, you already know why. Because the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Classic Conundrums

Solving the riddle of Bible versus Church

12/05/2023

Lk 10:21-24 Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, "I give you praise, 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 who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him." Turning to the disciples in private he said, "Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I say to you, many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it."

Today’s homily will not focus on one of the specific Scripture readings we heard today from Isaiah or Luke. Rather I would like to say a word about the use of Scripture in the Mass, and the importance of the Scripture in the liturgy cannot be exaggerated. You have heard of the classic conundrum of, “which came first, the chicken or the egg?” My vote has always been for the chicken, since in Gn 1:25, it says: “God made every kind of wild animal, [and] every kind of tame animal.”

But there is another classic conundrum that is equally vexing: which came first, the Bible or the Church? Have you heard of this internecine debate? In many ways this conundrum is the cause of the deepest divides between Catholics and Protestants. We are constantly arguing over which came first, and which is most important.

On the one hand, most Catholics would argue the Church came first, citing Mt 16:18, where Jesus declares to Simon Peter: “You are Peter and upon this rock I will build my Church.” That is, first Jesus establishes Peter and the apostolic foundations of his Church, which then later determines the canon, or official list of book of the Bible. Therefore, the Church clearly comes before the Bible.

Protestants, on the other hand, would insist on the primacy of faith before you can have anything resembling a Church. They might point to Rm 10:17, where Paul proclaims: “Faith comes from what is heard.” In other words, first you have the Bible and someone to proclaim and preach it, and thereby planting the seeds of faith in a believer’s heart. Once the seed of faith blossoms in believers, they gather together as a church community. The Bible, therefore, clearly comes before the Church. So, which is really first?

Perhaps one way to bridge this yawning divide is to recognize a third actor on the stage of history, namely, the liturgy, or the Mass, or the Eucharist. And I would suggest to you that even before there was an organized Church, or a complete Bible, there was the liturgy. At the Last Supper, for example in Lk 22:19, Jesus says: “This is my body, which will be given for you, do this in memory of me.”

Jesus did not say, “Write this in memory of me,” nor did he say, “Call a church council in memory of me,” he said, “Do this in memory of me." And that is exactly what they did in Lk 24, and in Acts 2:42, and later in Acts 20:7, in the “Breaking of the Bread.” In other words, that phrase, “the breaking of the bread” is a pregnant phrase because it not only refers to the liturgy or the Lord’s Supper, but also means the Mass gave birth to both the Church and the Bible. How so?

On April 17, 2003, Pope St. John Paul II wrote an encyclical called Ecclesia de Eucharistia (the Church from the Eucharist), in which he stated forcefully: “The Church was born of the paschal mystery. For this very reason the Eucharist, which is in an outstanding way the sacrament of the paschal mystery, stands at the center of the Church’s life” (no. 3). That is, the Mass gives birth to the Church and constantly nourishes her. So, to answer the question, which came first, the Bible or the Church?, the pope (and I) would answer: neither came first. The liturgy came first and gave birth to both.

We also see the indispensable role of the liturgy in the formation and eventually canonization of the Bible. That is, how the liturgy gave birth to the Bible. In the year 393 at the Council of Hippo in northern Africa, under the towering leadership of St. Augustine, the Church first codified the 73 books of the Bible. But how did St. Augustine and his brother bishops know to pick these particular 73, and not other holy and wise books floating around in the first few centuries?

After all, there was the Gospel of Thomas, the Apocalypse of Peter, the book of Jubilees, the Epistle of Barnabas, the Shepherd of Hermas that didn't make the cut. How did Augustine and the other bishops in 393 know to select Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts, Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, and the rest of the New Testament rather than these other holy writings? Because these 27 book of the New Testament, as well as the 46 books of the Old Testament, were faithfully and consistently read whenever the Christians gathered for “the breaking of the bread.”

In other words, it was the uninterrupted use of these books in the Eucharistic liturgy that was the litmus test of which books were truly inspired by the Holy Spirit. That answers which books should be in the Bible. Which came first, the Bible or the Church? Neither did, but rather the liturgy came first. Why? Because Jesus said, “Do this in memory of me,” and everything else came later.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Let’s Go to War

Understanding the motif of the Church Militant

12/04/2023

Mt 8:5-11 When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion approached him and appealed to him, saying, "Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully." He said to him, "I will come and cure him." The centurion said in reply, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me. And I say to one, 'Go,' and he goes; and to another, 'Come here,' and he comes; and to my slave, 'Do this,' and he does it." When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, "Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith. I say to you, many will come from the east and the west, and will recline with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob at the banquet in the Kingdom of heaven."

One of the less familiar motifs (images) for the Church in Scripture is an army. We hear about the Church as the Chosen People in the Old Testament, or she is referred to as the Bride of Christ or the Body of Christ in the New Testament. But there is also the subtle analogy of an army that can help us to understand the nature of the Church we belong to.

I sometimes use the analogy of an army to explain what religious orders are, like the Franciscans, Jesuits, or Carmelites. Just like we have a large standing army in our country that fights our wars, with ranks of private, sergeant, captain, and general, so the Church is organized as a spiritual army of battalions of dioceses with the ranks of deacon, priest, monsignor, bishop, cardinal, and pope to engage in spiritual warfare.

But in addition to the army, our military also has special forces: Marine Commandoes, Army Rangers, and Navy Seals. They are smaller units or teams that have a specific purpose and they are the best in that field. Similarly, religious orders are like our spiritual special forces, who focus on one area of ministry or mission – the poor, or education, or health care, etc. So, when we envision the Church as a military, we can make more sense out of her different religious officers and religious orders.

In the gospel today, it is a centurion, a military man, who catches the nature of the Church, and whose faith impresses Jesus deeply. He says: “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof, only say the word and my servant will be healed.” And how does he know that will happen? He continues: “For I too am a man subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me. And I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes, and to another, ‘Come here,’ and he comes.”

And how does Jesus react? We read further: “When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, ‘Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith’.” Wow, that’s a lot of faith since his apostles must have heard that comment and wondered how little their faith must be. In other words, this military motif of the Church is not unimportant or inconsequential; it gets to the heart of the identity and purpose of the Church.

Have you heard of the three states of the Church? That is, the whole Church is not only comprised of the roughly one billion Catholics on earth that we can see. It also includes those in Purgatory, as well as the countless multitudes in heavenly glory, all those we cannot see. Traditionally, the first state of those on earth was called the Church Militant, those in Purgatory the Church Suffering, and those in heaven, the Church Triumphant. But notice the terminology of the Church Militant, or military: that was exactly how the Centurion in the gospel understood the Church, and Jesus was impressed with his faith.

But if we are a military Church, we should have an enemy to fight, otherwise, we do not need an army. In the past some Church leaders mistakenly believed that we were at war with the Protestants, or with the Muslims, or with the Orthodox, or more recently with the atheists who deny God and religion. But our true enemies are not others, but rather the enemy within, our own weaknesses and vices. As the famous Pogo cartoon strip said, “We have met the enemy, and the enemy is us.”

That is why the Centurion’s faith in the Church Militant has to be balanced with Isaiah’s prophecy in the first reading. Isaiah said: “They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.” That is, the sword should not be raise against others, but against oneself. In other words, yes, the analogy of an army for the Church is accurate, but we have to identify the real enemy we are fighting, and he is looking back at us in the mirror. “We have met the enemy, and the enemy is us.” Let’s go to war.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Follow the Poop

Seeing how our trash can become a treasure

12/03/2023

MK 13:33-37 Jesus said to his disciples: “Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come. It is like a man traveling abroad. He leaves home and places his servants in charge, each with his own work, and orders the gatekeeper to be on the watch. Watch, therefore; you do not know when the lord of the house is coming, whether in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning. May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to all: ‘Watch!’”

Last week a friend shared something about shepherds and sheep that I never knew. She said that when a sheep wanders off and gets lost a wise shepherd does not follow its tracks to find it. Do you know what he looks for? The sheep’s poop! Sorry to talk about that in church, but apparently sheep have very distinctive poop, and so if you want to find a specific sheep, look for his specific poop! As you know I have a dog named Apollo. And every time we go for a walk and he poops, I call that “true confessions.” Why? Well because sometimes he is sneaky and tries to hide things he should not eat, but the poop does not lie!

Now, all living organisms create waste, even whole communities do, called garbage. Garbage is the poop of a whole city. Back in high school a teacher posed this problem to my class. Imagine the world 2,000 years from now, there has been a great war, and this country is in ruins and rubble. If some aliens came to earth and wanted to study our civilization, where would be the best place to start?

One students said, “Go to the mall!” Another chimed in with, “Go to the grocery stores!” And Fr. Greg Luyet, who was a classmate of mine, said, “Go to the churches!” All those were good answers. But the best place to study a community would be in its trash dump. Why? Because all our trash and waste is what we truly bought, ate, and consumed. You see, our trash is the poop of our whole community, and it shows who we realy are: trash is our true confessions.

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, and we enter the holy season of waiting, and watching. So Jesus urges his disciples in the gospel today: “What I say to you, I say to all, ‘Watch!’” But what should we be watching for? Well, clearly we watch for the coming of the Lord. And where do we find him? Notice he is not born in a dignified inn or a clean hospital, but in a stable, surrounded by dirty animals. It was outside the civilized area, close to where people threw their trash.

And do you remember where Jesus would be crucified and die? Again, outside the city, on Golgotha, an area that was the garbage dump of Jerusalem. In other words, the best way to watch during Advent means looking in the most unlikely and unpleasant places – like a trash dump – where the Shepherd draws close to his sheep, where he was born and died. It’s like that old saying: “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” In the trash of Jerusalem, we would find the treasure of Jesus.

My friends, let me suggest three ways we can watch how Jesus draws near to us, and it happens during the tragic and trash-like places of our lives. In other words, the garbage, the poop, is not only where the sheep find the Shepherd, but also where the Shepherd finds his sheep. First, no one likes to go to the hospital, especially if you’re the patient! But often when I go to anoint someone at the hospital, they are so happy to see a priest and receive the Anointing of the Sick. Why? Because illness and death pry open our eyes to the coming of the Lord. We long for the Lord when we are sick or suffering like in Advent.

A second moment of watching for Christ’s coming is through our tears and troubles, especially in confession. Now no one likes to cry, right, because we don’t look very pretty: snot and makeup running everywhere. We are showing someone else our naked heart. But whenever someone sheds tears in my office while talking to me, I always thank them. Why? Because tears mean they trust me enough to share the trash of their sin that they hide from the rest of the world. I am amazed how the trash of sin can become a treasure of mercy.

And a third suggestion of watching for Jesus is in the poor and the homeless. And I have to tell you, we gets lots of chances to do that being a downtown church. We have people who spend the night on the church steps and Apollo and I wake them up when we open the church. We see people who come in to Mass, who clearly are not Catholic, but just want to get out of the cold and warm up. One time a guy spent the night in the confessional. Heck, the homeless come to Mass and confession more than some Catholics do.

Recently I have started to stop and talk to these folks. That is, instead of money, I give them my time, and listen to their stories. They welcome someone to talk to. Loneliness can be colder than sub-freezing temperatures. I have to admit I used to be kind of scared of the homeless – some people might call them the trash, the riff-raff, of our society – but if we watch them closely this Advent, we may see Jesus in them, like Mother Teresa always did. In the trash of our society, we will find the treasure of our Savior, like when he first came.

Folks, I know we would all rather watch for Jesus’ coming in a beautiful, Gothic church, filled with garland, glittering lights and poinsettias, and singing “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” Or we would like to watch for Jesus seeing all the homes lit up with glimmering lights and decorated with snowmen, Santa, and reindeer. And all those are good places to watch for Jesus.

But the best way to watch for the Shepherd drawing near is in our illness and crosses, our tears and troubles, and in the homeless and outcast. It was in the garbage dump that the sheep first found the Shepherd 2000 years ago. And it is in the trash-like moments in our lives that the Shepherd finds his sheep today. Because a good Shepherd find the lost sheep by following its poop.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Stealing Lollipops

Seeing how Satan is always plagiarizing God

12/2/2023

Dn 7:2-14 In a vision I, Daniel, saw during the night, the four winds of heaven stirred up the great sea, from which emerged four immense beasts, each different from the others. The first was like a lion, but with eagle's wings. While I watched, the wings were plucked; it was raised from the ground to stand on two feet like a man, and given a human mind. The second was like a bear; it was raised up on one side, and among the teeth in its mouth were three tusks. It was given the order, "Up, devour much flesh." After this I looked and saw another beast, like a leopard; on its back were four wings like those of a bird, and it had four heads. To this beast dominion was given. After this, in the visions of the night I saw the fourth beast, different from all the others, terrifying, horrible, and of extraordinary strength; it had great iron teeth with which it devoured and crushed, and what was left it trampled with its feet.

One of my all-time favorite movies is “Hunt for Red October.” There is a little known scene when the president’s national security advisor is talking to Jack Ryan, the hero. In a very honest moment, the National Security Advisor admits: “Listen, I’m a politician, which means I am a cheat and a liar. And when I’m not kissing babies, I am stealing their lollipops.”

Now, to be sure I know lots of honorable and virtuous politicians, so not all politicians are a corrupt as the one in the movie. But it’s a real tragedy when a politician goes bad because we rightly expect more from our elected officials. We don’t want just good policies, we want good people in office.

Have you heard of the old Latin maxim, “Corruptio optimi pessima”? It means “the corruption of the best becomes the worst.” Or sometimes we say, “The higher they climb, the harder they fall.” For example, when a pope goes bad he doesn’t just go a little bad, he causes the Protestant Reformation.  When the highest angel Lucifer falls he doesn’t become some second-rate demon, he becomes the Prince of Demons.

And one of the ways Satan shows his corrupted nature is that he has no capital of his own, like the National Security Advisor said, he has to “steal lollipops.” In other words, all Satan can ever do is “steal” what God creates and distort its original beauty and goodness. The Devil never does anything original; he is a born plagiarist, a copy-cat.

In the first reading today we see Satan sort of “stealing lollipops” and plagiarizing God’s perfect creation. In Daniel 7 we hear of four evil beasts that come out of the sea. They take the form of a lion, a man, a bear, and a leopard. But these four earthly creatures are only cheap imitations of the four living creatures that Ezekiel sees in heaven. In Ezekiel 1:10, the prophet describes the four living creatures as a lion, a man, an ox, and an eagle.

In the New Testament, these four symbolic creatures would represent the four Gospels: the lion for St. Mark, the man for St. Matthew, the ox for St. Luke, and the eagle for St. John. In other words, all the Devil ever does is take God’s original masterpieces and duplicates and defaces them like graffiti on the Mona Lisa. He has not capital or currency of his own: “he’s a cheat and a liar, and when he’s not kissing babies, he’s stealing their lollipops.” The Devil doesn’t have his own lollipops.

Let me give you some modern examples of how all Satan can do is “steal” when he wants to commit sacrilege. Have you heard of the so-called “Black Mass”? It is a mockery of a Catholic Mass by mimicking the words and gestures of a priest but giving them diabolical meanings. But notice Satan does not “create” his own liturgy, he has to plagiarize God’s perfect Eucharist.

And a little more subtle stealing is when Satan tempts someone to get drunk and become an alcoholic, which is a mockery and mimicry of receiving the Precious Blood in the form of wine at Mass. Corruptio optimi, pessima: the corruption of the best – the Eucharist – becomes the worst that Satan can do.

This same kind of stealing of lollipops happens in sexual sins. How so? What sacred action if being copies and caricatured – blown out of proper proportion – in all sexual sins, like pornography, adultery, sex before marriage? The holiness of Marriage, which is consummated by the sexual relations of a husband and wife on their honeymoon. Is sexual sins we act like the four evil beasts of Daniel 7 rather than the four living creatures of Ezekiel 1, that is, we take what is holy and make it hideous. All Satan can do is “steal lollipops” because he has none of his own.

Here is another sacrament that Satan tries to sabotage, namely, confession. How does he corrupt the best here? Well, in confession we tell our deepest, darkest secrets to a priest. And every priest is bound under pain of excommunication to guard the seal of the confessional. That means we have to take everything we hear to the grave. And by the way that is pretty easy because men forget everything we hear.

And that is the real reason women cannot become priests: because you would remember everything you hear in confession. And how does Satan make a mockery of the seal of the confessional? Through the sin of gossip and slander, where we take other people’s secrets – which they might confide to us like a confession – and we broadcast them to the world. Satan never does anything original; he’s a plagiarist through and through.

My friends, remember the Latin phrase, “corruptio optimi pessima.” It doesn’t just refer to politicians and popes. It also refers to Satan, who always takes the best and tries to make it the worst. That is what is does because that is what he is: the greatest angel who became the worst devil. Satan is always just “stealing lollipops.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!