St. Judas

Seeing how God never gets tired of forgiving us

03/26/2024

Jn 13:21-33, 36-38 Reclining at table with his disciples, Jesus was deeply troubled and testified, "Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me." The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant. One of his disciples, the one whom Jesus loved, was reclining at Jesus' side. So Simon Peter nodded to him to find out whom he meant. He leaned back against Jesus' chest and said to him, "Master, who is it?" Jesus answered, "It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it." So he dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot. After Judas took the morsel, Satan entered him. So Jesus said to him, "What you are going to do, do quickly." Now none of those reclining at table realized why he said this to him. Some thought that since Judas kept the money bag, Jesus had told him, "Buy what we need for the feast," or to give something to the poor. So Judas took the morsel and left at once. And it was night. When he had left, Jesus said, "Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him. If God is glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself, and he will glorify him at once. My children, I will be with you only a little while longer. You will look for me, and as I told the Jews, 'Where I go you cannot come,' so now I say it to you." Simon Peter said to him, "Master, where are you going?" Jesus answered him, "Where I am going, you cannot follow me now, though you will follow later." Peter said to him, "Master, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you." Jesus answered, "Will you lay down your life for me? Amen, amen, I say to you, the cock will not crow before you deny me three times."

The gospel of John paints a dual portrait of Judas and Peter. They both deny and betray our Lord. One despairs, the other repents, and turns back to the Lord. I remember Archbishop Fulton Sheen saying that the great tragedy of the life of Judas is that he could have been St. Judas. In other words if he had had the humility to turn back to Jesus and say, “Forgive me, Lord,” his great sin of betraying Christ would have been forgiven instantly. What an amazing thought that even Judas could have been forgiven and saved.

This is the great beauty and grace of Holy Week, and one thing we can meditate upon this coming week, namely, there is always hope of salvation for all of us. That we can always turn back to the Lord, no matter how bad a mess we think we have made of our lives. Jesus forgiveness is always much greater than our sins.

I think this also gives us an insight into Judas’ mindset. He had this belief – and we too sometimes harbor it – that our sins are so big that God cannot forgive them. That is a great error, and leads to what the Church has taught as “final unrepentance.” That is, going your whole life thinking that I cannot be forgiven. My sin is so great that not even God can forgive me.

I believe this is what Jesus means when he refers to that one sin against the Holy Spirit that is unforgiveable. You know how everyone scratches their head wondering what that one sin could be that God could not forgive, especially against the Holy Spirit. Judas is the example of that one sin: final unrepentance, to die in the belief that my sins are so great God cannot forgive me. To despair. To think the Holy Spirit’s love has limits, and my sins have broken beyond those limits. That is the sin against the Holy Spirit: final unrepentance, despair, and Judas is the tragic example of it.

This is why one of my favorite Scripture passages is Rm 5:20, where St. Paul says, “Where sin abounds, there grace abounds all the more.” Sin may be big, sin may be terrible, but God’s grace is always much bigger. Pope Francis’ developed a famous saying when talking about mercy and forgiveness, “We get tired of asking God to forgive us. But God never gets tired of forgiving us.” We are the ones who run out of gas asking for mercy. He is not too tired to forgive us.

That is what happened to Judas: he got tired of asking God for mercy. But God was always ready, willing, and able to forgive him, even for betraying his Son. The great tragedy of Judas’ life is that he could have been St. Judas. Let not that be the tragedy of your life.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

My Morning Ritual

Understanding how we are all responsible for Jesus’ death

03/24/2024

Jn 11:45-56 Many of the Jews who had come to Mary and seen what Jesus had done began to believe in him. But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done. So the chief priests and the Pharisees convened the Sanhedrin and said, “What are we going to do? This man is performing many signs. If we leave him alone, all will believe in him, and the Romans will come and take away both our land and our nation.” But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing, nor do you consider that it is better for you that one man should die instead of the people, so that the whole nation may not perish.” He did not say this on his own, but since he was high priest for that year, he prophesied that Jesus was going to die for the nation, and not only for the nation, but also to gather into one the dispersed children of God. So from that day on they planned to kill him.

I always do two things before I leave the rectory every morning. You, too, may have a morning ritual before you leave your house. I stop in the small chapel and I ask Jesus to bless the coming day, whatever may happen. And then I kiss a crucifix hanging in the hallway as I leave. But every time I kiss my finger and touched Jesus’ nailed feet, I think: “Lord, I love you. But I know it is my sins that nailed your feet to that terrible tree.”

In other words, by that kiss I am taking personal ownership for killing Jesus. I kiss Jesus like Judas Iscariot; but I am also responsible for killing Jesus like Judas Iscariot. I am not blaming someone else for Jesus’ death, because I know our Lord would have suffered and died for me if I were the only person who had ever lived.

In January of this year (2024), the U.S. bishops issued a pastoral note on antisemitism. Antisemitism is the ideology that the Jews alone killed Christ. The bishops wrote this about Good Friday, saying: “The Passion narratives are proclaimed in full so that all see vividly the love of Christ for each person. In light of this, the crimes during the Passion of Christ cannot be attributed, in either preaching or catechesis, indiscriminately to all Jews of that time, nor to Jews today…As the Church has always held, Christ freely suffered his passion and death for the sin of all, that all might be saved.”

I know it is hard not to hear that statement in the midst of the noise and nonsense of the current political climate. Are you siding with Israel, or are you siding with the Palestinians? The bishops are not interested in playing politics, but in saving souls, beginning with their own. The bishops’ pastoral note, in other words, tries to do the same thing as my morning ritual when I kiss the feet of Jesus: accept personal responsibility for being the cause of Christ’s saving death.

I mention all this today because we see a definite momentum shift, a turn, in the gospel in John 11. The Jewish leadership makes a conscious and collective decision to kill Jesus. We read: “Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, ‘You know nothing, nor do you consider that it is better for you that one man should die instead of the people, so that the whole nation may not perish.” That is, Caiaphas and the whole Sanhedrim were doing that day what I do every morning. Reaching out to kiss the feet of Jesus, but also reaching out to kill Christ. We read a little further: “So from that day on they planned to kill him.” In other words, we are all responsible for Jesus’ death.

My friends, as we begin Holy Week tomorrow with Palm Sunday, may I ask you to keep two thoughts in your mind. First, be aware of any antisemitism you hear, and steer clear of it. For that matter, be aware of any anti-Palestinianism you hear and avoid that, too. Honestly, I have not personally encountered antisemitism (perhaps it is more prevalent in large metropolitan areas).

Although there was a rather blatant account of antisemitism in Shakespeare’s play, “Merchant of Venice.” There a Jew named Shylock is depicted as greedy, a lover of money, and demanding his “pound of flesh” from innocent Antonio. You know, I love Shakespeare. But it is nearly impossible to read that play as not promoting antisemitism, even if it was unintentional.

The second thought to keep in mind this week is that the only person really responsible for Jesus’ crucifixion is me, and you. Our Lord’s death on the cross was the price he paid for my sins, and your sins, and the sins of the Jews, and the sins of the Palestinians, and the sins of the Russians, and the sins of the Ukranians, and the sins of the Republicans, and the sins of the Democrats, etc.

Put simply, no one is innocent of shedding the precious Blood of our Savior, not even Pilate who tried to wash his hands of responsibility for Jesus’ death. That is what I think when I kiss the feet of Jesus and walk out of the rectory every morning.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Slave, Son, Saint

Seeing how salvation really works in our lives

03/21/2024

Jn 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." They answered and said to him, "Our father is Abraham." Jesus said to them, "If you were Abraham's children, you would be doing the works of Abraham.

What did Jesus come to accomplish in becoming a man, suffering and dying, and rising from the dead? Well, the short answer is he came to save us. We all know this because we see graffiti on overpasses that state: “Jesus saves.” But what is that salvation, the technical term is soteriology, that Jesus came to give us? Does Jesus just snap his fingers and save us? No, it took his 33 years of living, and three hours of dying on the cross to save us.

Now, can we just snap our fingers and accept that salvation? No, it will take our whole life and our death to allow Christ’s saving grace to seep into every crack and crevice of our souls. Salvation is really a three step process of going from slavery, to sonship, and finally sainthood. In other words, you cannot go from slave to saint by snapping your fingers. There is no shortcut to salvation.

In the gospel today Jesus outlines these three steps of salvation. First, he helps the Jews to see they are slaves, saying: “everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin.” And that includes everyone, even the Jews, but they vehemently deny it. Second, he insists they must become sons by adding: “A slave does not remain in a household forever, but a son always remains.” To which the Jews retort: “We were not born of fornication,” meaning we are not illegitimate but legitimate sons.

And finally Jesus teaches that only his disciples will reach sainthood: “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.” That is, what I am offering you, Jesus says in effect, which is salvation, will not be fast or easy. It will be long and arduous. But the end of the road will be a glorious resurrection.

I would like to illustrate what Jesus is talking about in today’s gospel with a book and a movie. The book is Addiction and Grace by a psychiatrist named Gerald May. This book completely changed my way of thinking about addiction. I used to think (and maybe you do too) that addicts were those enslaved to drugs or alcohol or other illegal substances. But in fact, May argues, we are all addicted to something: coffee, our work, our schedules, our clothes, even other people. May helped me see that a better word than addiction is attachment.

May wrote: “Addition makes idolaters of us all, because it forces us to worship these objects of attachment, thereby preventing us from truly, freely loving God and one another.” In other words, we are all, without exception, attached to something, or maybe even someone, and that is the source of our slavery. The first step of salvation, therefore, is identical to the first step of AA: to admit we are powerful (slaves) to some attachment. That humble acknowledgement is the first step on the long, hard road of salvation.

The second illustration comes from a Denzel Washington movie called “Flight.” He plays a very talented pilot who saves a plane full of people by actually flying the airliner inverted, that is, upside-down and safely crash-landing it in a field. The only fly in the ointment of his talents is that he was drunk while he did it. He is investigated for his negligence and finally confesses his deep addiction to drugs and alcohol.

While he is serving time in prison he gives his testimony to other inmates and says: “But at least I am sober. I thank God for that; I am grateful for that. And this is going to sound really stupid coming from a man who’s locked up in prison, but for the first time in my life I am free.” In other words, the salvation, the freedom, that Jesus has come to give us is not fast or easy. It is always a long, hard road to the resurrection.

Incidentally, when Captain Whip (played by Denzel) landed the plane in the field, he clipped the tower of a small church. And he landed close to a pond where people were wearing white robes and being baptized. I am convinced that baptism scene was where Captain Whip would also be born again. I love how C. S. Lewis begins his book The Problem of Pain with this quotation: “The Son of God suffered unto death not so that we would not have to suffer, but so our suffering could be like his.” And when our suffering is more like his, we too go from slaves, to sons, to saints.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Frontier Faith

Sharing the faith with all those we meet

03/17/2024

Jn 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.

This weekend is St. Patrick’s Day on Sunday, March 17, and it is especially meaningful for our parish since our founding fathers and mothers were Irish immigrants. You may know this parish was originally named St. Patrick’s and later changed to Immaculate Conception in the 1860’s. So, it seems fitting I should share some Irish jokes in honor of St. Patrick and the Fighting Irish. Someone sent these several one-liners recently.

One read a little on the serious side: “It doesn’t matter how big your house is, how much money you have, or that you wear expensive clothes. Our graves will be the same size. Stay humble.” Another one read: “The human brain is the most amazing organ. It works 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, from birth until you fall in love.” Yet another humorous one observed: “I always found it a bit confusing when the teacher would say: ‘Don’t get smart with me’.” Okay, here’s the last one: Every Irish woman’s dream. Her ideal man takes her in his arms, throws her on the bed…and cleans the whole house while she sleeps.” And now you know what all women really want, guys.

Back in 1999 our parish celebrated our 150th anniversary by publishing a book called “From the Foundation Up – the Story of a Frontier Parish.” The pastor then, Msgr. John O’Donnell (an Irishman!), noted in the Foreword: “In this our 150th year as a parish, and the 100th year of our magnificent church, we stand on the shoulders of giants! Those gallant and intrepid clergy, religious and laity who cut a wide path through this region and tamed the manners and morals of a people newly arrived on the frontier.”

Msgr. O’Donnell sure had a flair for the dramatic. What made the Irish truly giants were that they not only lived on the frontier of Europe – surrounded by ocean – but were also fearless in charging forward to the next frontier and sow the seed of faith there. That is, Irish Catholic immigrants planted the tree of faith here in Fort Smith 175 years ago and we have all eaten our fill from its fruits.

If we look closely at the gospel today we will also see a sort of frontier faith in action. How so? Well, at first sight looks what rather mundane, Jesus sees are remarkably momentous. Some Greeks ask Philip and Andrew to introduce them to Jesus. And Jesus flips out by exclaiming: “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified!” Jesus seems to be making a mountain out of a mole hill, but he is actually noticing an entirely new stage of the spread of the gospel. What do I mean?

Well, the fact that Greeks want to see Jesus means his message is spreading beyond the borders of Israel to the whole world. In other words, Jesus’ sharing the gospel with the Greeks was like how the “intrepid Irish cut a wide path and tamed the manners and morals of a people on the frontier.” If there is one quality Jesus wants his apostles to adopt from him, it is a frontier faith, unafraid to carry the Good News to the four corners of the world.

My friends, what are some of the frontiers of faith we find today? Sometimes we find the frontier not in some distant land but in our own home. We may have a spouse who doesn’t come to church, or children who are fallen away from their faith, or attend another church. Or, perhaps the frontier of faith is so close it is staring back at us in the mirror every morning, as we may have doubts or disagree with Catholic teaching. That is, sometimes we need to plant the flag of faith right in our living room at home, or in our own hearts.

And by the way, we learn the faith by doing the faith, practice makes perfect. Because sharing the faith on the frontier is always messy and imperfect. Fr. Daniel who used to coach me in tennis that I should play against people who are better and beat me. Why? Because only by losing do you really get better and learn. Although when I got home he asked me, “Why did you lose?” And I’m like, “What did you expect??” So, too, in sharing the faith Jesus sends us out beyond the borders of our abilities and certainly out of our comfort zone. We learn by doing, and we really learn by falling flat on our face.

Another frontier of faith is the culture we live in which is not just non-Christian but gradually growing anti-Christian. Have you noticed this? Now, don’t get me wrong. My family came here from India as immigrants: “America is great! We love America!” But does America love us Roman Catholics, especially when we take an uncompromising stand against abortion, against same sex marriages, in favor of welcoming the stranger at the border, and in caring for the environment?

Msgr. O’Donnell’s words about our Irish ancestors do not just point to the past, but are also prophetic about the future when he said: “With awesome courage, perseverance and sacrifice they built a veritable fortress of Faith and Catholicity in a time when the faithful were less than welcome and looked upon with disdain.” In other words, for 125 years this historic church has been standing at the head of Garrison Avenue, as if to say to everyone driving by, whether in a horse-and-buggy, or in a Lamborghini, “The Catholic Faith is here. And we are not going anywhere.” The fighting Irish built this marvelous church on this main street. Why? Because their hearts beat with a frontier faith.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Pagan Temples Tremble

Discovering what is the principal purpose of Mass

03/12/2024

Jn 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.

It’s funny how some conversations we have, although they might be brief, are not only memorable but leave a lasting impression on us. I had one such conversation many years ago with my friend, Fr. Erik Pohlmeier, who is now the bishop of St. Augustine in Florida. We were talking about the Mass, and Bishop Pohlmeier asked me: “What do you think is the most important point of the Mass?”

And I answered, “I think it would be the consecration, when the matter of the bread and wine are transubstantiated into the Body and Blood of Christ.” But he disagreed, and said instead: “I think the central moment of the Mass is when the priest elevates the consecrated Bread and Wine at the Doxology and the people all respond, ‘Amen’.” Now which one of us do you think was right? All you have to remember is he is a bishop and I am not.

Over the years I have thought about that brief conversation and have become increasingly convinced that Bishop Pohlmeier was right. Why? Well, let me ask you that question. What do you think is the central, most important part of the Mass? Maybe you might reply: “Clearly, the most important moment is receiving Holy Communion!” And Communion is certainly crucial, but is that the main point and purpose of the Mass? Or, put it this way: is there any reason to come to Mass even if you cannot receive Holy Communion? Some Catholics might immediately reply: “Heck no! If I cannot receive Holy Communion why bother going to Mass?”

Well, if Communion is the point and purpose of the Mass, why do we make small children who haven’t made their first Holy Communion go to Mass? Why do so many non-Catholic spouses come to Mass even they cannot partake of Communion? Why do nearly half the Hispanic congregation go to Mass and yet decline to receive Holy Communion because they feel the need to go to confession first? In other words, some people come to Mass not primarily to receive Holy Communion, but for some other purpose. What is that particular purpose that pushes people to come sit in the pews?

I would suggest to you the answer is what Bishop Pohlmeier said: “The central moment of the Mass is the elevation of the Sacred Species and the response of the people “Amen!” That is, priest and people attend Mass in order to offer the heavenly Father perfect praise and worship. And there is nothing more perfect that we can offer God the Father than the sacrifice of God the Son at Mass. I will never forget how our high school principal, Fr. George Tribou, taught us: “You come to Mass to give something, not to get something.” The fundamental reason we are all attending Mass is to give God the only Thing he ultimately desires, namely, the unbloody sacrifice of his Son re-presented on every altar at Mass.

Jesus was referring to this moment of the Mass when he told the Samaritan woman in Jn 4:23, “But the hour is coming, and is now here, when true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and in truth; and indeed the Father seeks such people to worship him.” In other words, the moment when people worship the Father as he desires, in Spirit and truth, happens at the elevation of the Mass. I remember Scott Hahn once saying that in the early Church the priest would sing the doxology and the people would literally shout “Amen!” so loudly that it would make the pagan temples tremble. That is, the early Christians understood what was the central most important part of the Mass far better than I do.

That brief conversation with Bishop Pohlmeier came to mind when I read the gospel today from John 5 and the story about the crippled man lying in the temple for thirty-eight years. What struck me about this man was his perseverance in going to the temple even though he did not immediately receive a healing. He explains: “I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up.”

He makes me think of all those small children who have not made their first Communion but still come to this temple, all those non-Catholic spouses who cannot receive Communion but still come to this temple, all those devout Hispanics who want to go to confession first but still come to this temple, and all those early Christians who came to the temple, not because they could receive something but because they believed their presence and praise could render to God the only Thing God desires, namely, worshipping God in Spirit and in truth.

That man finally received the healing he longed for, but that does not mean that his coming to the temple for those previous thirty-eight years was in vain. We come to Mass primarily to give something, not to get something. When we come to Mass with the attitude of “When do I get Holy Communion?” then we come as a consumer and not as a Christian. And we do not make any pagan temples tremble.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Avuncular Pride

Hearing the refrain of divine environmentalism

03/11/2024

Is 65:17-21 Thus says the LORD: Lo, I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; The things of the past shall not be remembered or come to mind. Instead, there shall always be rejoicing and happiness in what I create; For I create Jerusalem to be a joy and its people to be a delight; I will rejoice in Jerusalem and exult in my people. No longer shall the sound of weeping be heard there, or the sound of crying; No longer shall there be in it an infant who lives but a few days, or an old man who does not round out his full lifetime; He dies a mere youth who reaches but a hundred years, and he who fails of a hundred shall be thought accursed. They shall live in the houses they build, and eat the fruit of the vineyards they plant.

I have a great deal of avuncular pride in my eight nieces and nephews. When we were together for Christmas, the two oldest girls, Raichel and Sophia, were sharing what they do for work. They both graduated from college – one is a Bulldog from the University of Georgia, and the other a Gator from the University of Florida, which I have forgiven them for – and both with different degrees in environmentalism. I was truly inspired by their love for the earth and their desire to care for it. One works for Dicks’ Sporting Goods and the other for RES (Resource Environmental Services).

You may have heard recently that the SEC – the Securities and Exchange Commission, not the South Eastern Conference – required companies to be more transparent with how they are being friendly toward the environment, reducing emissions and their carbon footprint. In other words, it is not just my nieces who care about the earth, so do investors, and major companies are starting to pay attention and put big bucks behind it, like hiring my nieces!

And this caring for our common home is nothing new, but a refrain that is regularly repeated throughout the Bible. We hear this refrain in the first reading this morning from Isaiah 65: “Thus says the Lord; Lo, I am about to create a new heavens and a new earth.” But this was not “new” with Isaiah because this refrain goes all the way back to Noah and the building of the Ark.

Bishop Robert Barron noted: “Taking representatives of all the animals links us to the creation narrative, and this signals, once again, that the salvation of human beings is inextricably linked to the salvation of the entire cosmos” (The Great Story of Israel, 15). By the way, I saw this funny church sign that read: “Noah was a brave man to sail in a wooden boat with two termites.” That is, God is busy creating a new heavens and a new earth; and he's not just going to throw the old away. We would hear this refrain sounded again in the New Testament by St. Peter in 2 Pt 3:13, and finally in last book of Rv 21:1.

In other words, my avuncular pride in Sophia and Raichel is not born from their jumping on the band-wagon of some new trend or fad. Incidentally, FAD stands for “for a day.” Instead, these girls are hearing the refrain of a song that is as old as creation itself and was originally sung by the Creator. After all, God made his creation in the beginning and he looked upon it and “found it very good” (Gn 1:31. That is, God does not want to throw away his creation, but to recycle it, indeed, to renew it. And somehow my nieces get that, and want to be part of that “divine environmentalism.”

Here are some examples of hearing and repeating this refrain ourselves. For instance, it can be rather easy and super convenient to use disposable dishes – cups, plates and silverware – but try to use real glasses, real plates, and real silverware. And you will find that your food tastes better out of a real glass and on a metal fork. I have a friend who, whenever he receives gifts for Christmas or his birthday, always gives away to the poor something he already owned. He never has to do spring cleaning because he’s spring cleaning all year around! And perhaps a really easy way to help the environment is get a dog from the shelter, which is where I found Apollo, rather than from a breeder. They say that the mutts are the smartest dogs because they benefit from a broader gene pool. And I believe it because Apollo is a lot smarter than his owner!

By the way, do you know what the word “avuncular” means, since I have used it three times in this homily? It means “of or relating to an uncle, especially in kindliness or geniality.” It is another way of expressing how much I love my nieces and nephews. And my avuncular love for them has helped me to learn from them how God wants to create “a new heavens and a new earth.” And my nieces are a shining part of the newness.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Placards of Faith

Bearing witness to our faith in our actions

03/10/2024

Jn 3:14-21 Jesus said to Nicodemus: “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him will not be condemned, but whoever does not believe has already been condemned, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the verdict, that the light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come toward the light, so that his works might not be exposed. But whoever lives the truth comes to the light, so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God.

If you saw a big placard with the Scripture citation “Jn 3:16” where do you think you would be? Probably not at Mass, but at a major league baseball game or a professional football game. Have you seen people holding up that Bible verse at a sporting event? If you have never looked up Jn 3:16, you will be happy to know it was part of the gospel passage we just heard this morning. That famous verse reads: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might have eternal life.” It is truly a beautiful passage of Scripture, and a gentle invitation to salvation by believing in Jesus.

But as Catholic Christians we know of course that we have to do more than simply believe. In other words, that belief has to be backed up by our behavior. James 2:14 asks: “What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him?” St. James asks a rhetorical question and the obvious answer is “No.” So, I think next time I go to a professional football or baseball game, I will hold up a placard that reads “Jas 2:14”, and impress our Protestant friends because a Catholic can quote Scripture.

Now, even though I do not agree theologically with our Protestant brothers and sisters, I do tip my hat to their evangelistic zeal. That is, I wish I had the courage of many Protestant Christians. Think about it: Protestants will hold up a Bible passage on national television while we Catholics are embarrassed that someone will see us making the Sign of the Cross before we eat at a restaurant. Catholics can learn a lot from Protestants.

One thing I have learned from listening to Protestant preachers while I drive to Winslow on Sunday morning is the notion of a “life verse.” Have you heard of that? Many Protestants diligently and daily read the Bible and when they find a verse that touches them deeply, they commit it to memory. It becomes their guiding star – a spiritual North star – and provides hope, peace, comfort, joy, and even courage to hold up that life verse at a sporting event!

I have personally adopted Romans 5:20 as my life verse which reads: “Where sin abounds, there grace abounds all the more.” I have shared that verse with countless people in counseling, and it always gives them a glimmer of hope and peace. That verse tells me that God’s grace is always bigger than our sins and failings. Before I share some really inspiring examples of life verses, let me tell you a little joke.

In the Catholic Church colors are very symbolic and significant, especially when a pope is being elected. After a pope dies or retires all the cardinals gather in the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. Hundreds of thousands of people stand waiting in St. Peter’s Square outside anxious to hear who the next pope will be. Inside in secret, the cardinals vote to determine the next successor of St. Peter.

After they vote they throw their ballots into a special chimney which the people outside can see. If the smoke that comes out of the chimney is black, we do not have a new pope. If the color of the smoke is white, we do have a new pope. If the color of the smoke is green, then Willie Nelson snuck into the conclave. My apologies to Willie Nelson fans.

The reason I share that joke is because when we go home today from Mass, most of us will remember that joke but nothing else from the Scripture readings we heard today. Protestants, on the other hand, learn and memorize Bible verses, like we Catholics remember jokes. And so in a sense, the real joke is on us Catholics. Let me invite you, therefore, to have the same hunger not just for jokes but for Scripture.

Here are some same life verses for you to consider adopting. Jer 15:16 says, “Your words were found and I ate them, and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart.” The gospel of John is packed with potential life verses. John the Baptist says words we all need to repeat in Jn 3:30, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” Or Jesus’ words about the Eucharist in Jn 6:35, “I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst.”

Or, at the Last Supper, Jesus assures his disciples in Jn 16:33, “In this world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” And among the epistles of St. Paul, my favorite is Philippians, where in Phil 4:8, we read: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

My friends, this is a small sampling of the 31,104 verses in the entire Bible. Read the Bible devoutly at home. Listen to the Scriptures proclaimed at Mass. When you hear a particular verse that touches a chord deep inside you, make it your life verse. Commit it to memory and be ready to cite it by chapter and verse. And if you are feeling really courageous, make a big placard with that verse and hold it up at the next professional sporting event you attend. After all, that might be your best chance to get on TV.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Ranking Ourselves

Seeing ourselves and others as God see us

03/09/2024

Lk 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.”

One of the habits we learn as small children is comparing ourselves to others. And sometimes comparing ourselves can be good, but sometimes it can be bad. Comparison is good when it leads to competition and pushes us to become “the best version of ourselves” as Mathew Kelly likes to say. When I entered high school I had made B’s and C’s on my report card. I did not care about my grades. But Fr. George Tribou, our principal, posted the nine weeks rankings of students according to their GPA (grade point average), so we could see where we stood academically compared to other boys.

Every quarter we crowded around that list to find our names. As I looked for my name I noticed who was ranked above me, and I thought: “Heck, I’m smarter than that guy!” And suddenly I cared about my grades! That is, comparison motivated competition which inspired academic excellence. By the way, I graduated ranked ninth in a class of 177 boys, but I’m sure I would have been ranked a lot lower if there had been girls in the school.

On the other hand, comparing ourselves with others can be bad when we make moral comparisons, rather than academic ones. We do this when we say to ourselves, “I don’t drink as much as he does.” Or, “I am not as lazy as she is.” Or, “Our children are better behaved than so-and-so’s family,” etc. This corrosive comparison of ourselves with others on the moral nine-week’s rankings, is what we see going on in the gospel today.

The Pharisee looks for his name on the moral ranking list – a list he has concocted in his imagination – and sees himself ranked number one in the class. The tax collector, meanwhile, does not bother to find his name on any list of moral comparisons. Hence, we read, “But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven.”

In a sense, he understood that when it comes to moral matters, “all bets are off,” and there is no way to tell who ranks higher or lower. Why? Well, because at root morality is a matter of the heart, which God alone can see, and it cannot be placed on a public list of who’s holy and who’s wretched, at least not while we are on earth. That final ranking of holiness comes out when we get to heaven, and see ourselves and others as God sees us.

One way we can circumvent this moral comparing of ourselves with others is to recall what the spiritual masters called “the predominant fault.” Have you heard of that? The predominant fault is a sin or weakness each person has that causes us to fail no matter how hard we try to overcome it. Perhaps it can be compared to high school studies. Normally, if you are good at algebra, you are lousy at geometry; whereas if you excel in geometry, algebra is always a struggle.

For example, my brother is super smart in math but he can barely spell words like “cat” or “dog,” while I can spell perspicacious but cannot count to ten using my fingers. This is also true in the moral arena. Even though we may make great progress in many areas of the moral life – we are kind, we are prudent, we are generous, etc. – there will be one area where we fall flat on our face.

I often wonder if St. Paul was referring to his predominant fault when he wrote his second letter to the Corinthians, confessing: “Therefore, that I might not become too elated, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness’” (2 Co 12:7-9).

People who go to confession often recognize that they mention the same sins over and over. Such sins might include gluttony (overeating), or gambling, or greed and the desire to be rich, or sins of lust, or sloth or laziness, or gossip and talking about others’ faults and failings, or pride, or ego, or vanity, or chronic anger and resentment, etc. In short, the list is long!

These recurring sins, especially if there is one that towers above the rest, is likely a sign of your predominant fault, a failing to keep you humble like the tax collector. Why? So, you do not raise your eyes to look up to heaven and try to see your moral ranking relative to your brothers and sisters.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Pelted with Popcorn

Forgiving others from the heart with prayer

03/05/2024

Mt 18:21-35 Peter approached Jesus and asked him, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times. That is why the Kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who decided to settle accounts with his servants. When he began the accounting, a debtor was brought before him who owed him a huge amount. Since he had no way of paying it back, his master ordered him to be sold, along with his wife, his children, and all his property, in payment of the debt. At that, the servant fell down, did him homage, and said, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back in full.’ Moved with compassion the master of that servant let him go and forgave him the loan. When that servant had left, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a much smaller amount. He seized him and started to choke him, demanding, ‘Pay back what you owe.’ Falling to his knees, his fellow servant begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.’ But he refused. Instead, he had him put in prison until he paid back the debt. Now when his fellow servants saw what had happened, they were deeply disturbed, and went to their master and reported the whole affair. His master summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you your entire debt because you begged me to. Should you not have had pity on your fellow servant, as I had pity on you?’

Which is easier to say, “I am sorry,” or to say “I forgive you”? Well, I think the answer depends on how old you are. That is, when we are children we get into trouble a lot, and then it is hard for us to say “I’m sorry.” A couple of weeks ago our second graders made their first reconciliation in preparation for their First Holy Communion. And they were sweating bullets. One priest friend of mine likes to say that hearing first confessions is like being pelted with popcorn.

But as we get older the tables are turned. We find ourselves as the offended party, and someone else coming wit hat in hand to ask for our forgiveness, our mercy, and our compassion. And even if we can muster the humility to say “I forgive you,” it is often done through gritted teeth and our hearts are a million miles away. In other words, we hold grudges. How hard it is to fully forgive someone! It does not feel like we are pelted with popcorn, but rather cut up by a machete. That is why the old saying goes, “To err is human, to forgive is divine.” Why? Well, because it takes super-human, divine grace to fully forgive someone. It is God-like.

One Sunday a preacher was addressing the subject of “forgive your enemies.” He asked for a show of hands of how many people in the pews had forgiven their enemies. About half raised their hands. He preached on for another twenty minutes and asked again, and eighty percent raised their hands. Another thirty minutes of pounding the pulpit got about everyone, except one elderly lady, to raise their hands.

The preacher singled out the lone holdout, saying, “Mrs. Jones, are you not willing to forgive your enemies?” She replied sweetly, “I don’t have any.” Amazed, the preached asked her to come up to the front, and said, “Mrs. Jones, how old are you?” She proudly answered, “Ninety-seven.” The preached asked, stunned: “Mrs. Jones, how can someone live to be ninety-seven and not have any enemies?” She turned to the congregation and said, “Easy. I outlived all those sons of guns.”

In the gospel today Peter asks Jesus a very important question about forgiveness, namely, how many times must we forgive? And Peter thinks he’s being very generous by adding: “As many as seven times?” But Jesus replies: “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” In other words, he is trying to teach Peter that “to err is human but to forgive is divine.” And precisely what makes forgiveness so divine is its limitless, inexhaustible character. And it wasn’t just Peter who learned that lesson, but so too did his successors, the popes, down the ages.

Probably the most dramatic example of papal forgiveness was Pope St. John Paul II. Some of you may recall on May 13, 1981 in St. Peter’s Square Mehmet Ali Agca shot Pope John Paul II two times. But the pope visited him in prison, and not only forgave him, but requested clemency for Agca, which the Italian President Carlo Ciampi honored and extradited Agca to Turkey in 2000. More amazingly, in 2007, Agca converted and became Roman Catholic. And that is why we must forgive: to save souls, beginning with our own.

May I share with you what I do when I get sideways with people? I simply say one “Hail Mary” for them when they’re really getting under my skin. I have found that it is hard to pray for someone and stay mad at them simultaneously. There is not enough room in the human heart for prayer and grudges at the same time. They are like oil and water, mutually exclusive.

But prayer does more than that. It helps me to see that other person who hurt me through God’s eyes. And I believe God sees us all as little children who don’t know our right hand from our left hand, and are just stumbling along doing the best we can. In other words, God sees us like that priest who hears small children’s first confession and feels like he’s being pelted with popcorn.

Perhaps you can think of someone who has hurt you today at Mass and pray for them. It will help heal your heart. Like Pope St. John Paul II did with Ali Agca, it may help your enemy get to heaven, and help you, too. And don’t just try to outlive the sons of guns.

Praised be Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ!

The Jeweler’s Shop

Appreciating every person we meet daily

03/05/2024

Lk 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.

Recently, I was elected by my brother priests to serve for five years on the Personnel Board for the diocese. The Personnel Board advises the bishop about possible changes of priests from one parish to another. So, if there is a priest you don’t like and want to get rid of, just let me know and I will pass it along to the bishop. Now, there is an unwritten rule of the Personnel Board that we do not send a priest to be pastor of the parish where he grew up. For example, Ben Keating is currently a seminarian for our diocese, but he is from Immaculate Conception. After he is ordained, therefore, the bishop will probably never assign him as the pastor here. Why not?

Well, because of what Jesus says in the gospel today: “no prophet is accepted in his own native place.” And to be a prophet means to preach the hard truth, tough love, the things people do not want to hear but desperately need to hear. And that is why the people of Nazareth – Jesus’ hometown – are ready to throw him off “the brow of the hill on which their town had been built” because he told them the hard truth about their lack of faith. In other words, when we grow up with someone- even someone like Jesus, or Ben – we feel like we already know them and what they have to say. We don’t feel they have anything new or exciting to teach us, or we don’t like what they have to teach us.

Every week I receive a phone call or a visit from parents worried about their children. And invariably they will ask, “Fr. John, would you talk to Johnny or Susie about his drinking, or baptizing my grandkids, or going back to Mass, etc.?” Why do these parents want me to talk to their children? Because they feel like Jesus in the gospel today and know “no prophet is accepted in his native place,” especially in his or her own home. Children stop listening to their parents like the people of Nazareth didn’t listen to Jesus.

I have been pastor here at Immaculate Conception for over ten years, and you parishioners know me pretty well by now. You are very familiar with my preaching style, and sometimes, you even know what I am going to say before I say it. You have read my books, and you have listened to my homilies on Spotify. You could virtually write my homilies for me – but you wouldn’t get up at 4:30 a.m. to do it!

But try to recall what it was like when I first arrived here back in December, 2013. When you first saw this Indian-looking priest behind the altar, you probably feared the worst: “Oh no, he’s going to talk in some thick Indian accent and I’ll never understand a word he says!” But I’ve faithfully done my accent reduction exercises and now almost talk with a Southern twang, like all a ya’ll. But after ten years here, this parish now feel almost like “my native place,” and so it’s easy for you to tune me out when I say something disagreeable. Oh, there goes Fr. John getting on his soapbox again.

I will never forget when Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen said, “Jewelers get used to handling fine diamonds.” I believe that comment cuts to the heart of Jesus’ point in the gospel today. Each person in our lives – children, parents, pastor, etc. – is a precious diamond – and Jesus is the only flawless Diamond – and we have to take great care not to get used to them and take them for granted. Try not to tune them out when they say something we don't like or want to hear.

So, here’s your homework for today, and really for the rest of your life. Get up every morning and see yourself as going to work in a jeweler’s shop. Imagine every person you meet as another priceless jewel and try not to get used to seeing such stunning beauty every day. Let me leave you with C. S. Lewis’ words in his celebrated essay, “The Weight of Glory,” “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddess, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship.” My friends, look around you, you are in the jeweler’s shop right now. Don’t get used to these fine diamonds.

Praised be 

Daddy’s Home

Preparing our homes and hearts for Jesus’ return

03/04/2024

Jn 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.

I am a big fan of the Hollywood actor Mark Wahlberg. I don’t just like him because he is Catholic, but because he is very proud to be Catholic. On Ash Wednesday, for example, he got his ashes at Mass and posed for a picture with the priest who celebrated that Mass – what a lucky priest! Someone told me once that if Mark Wahlberg is walking down the street and passes a Catholic church, he always goes inside to make a visit to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, and then continues on his way. Lately, he’s also on social media promoting praying the Rosary on the Hallow app. He uses the tag-line, “Gotta stay prayed up!” Mark Wahlberg gives me hope for Hollywood.

Several years ago Wahlberg co-starred in a comedy movie with Will Farrell called “Daddy’s Home.” Did you happen to see it? At first I didn’t like the movie because it depicted Will Farrell as a bumbling step-dad who gets belittled and humiliated when the far more handsome, muscle-bound, super-cool biological dad (Mark Wahlberg) shows up. I didn’t like seeing Wahlberg playing the part of the mean dad and basically be a home-wrecker.

But the best part of the movie – spoiler-alert, close your ears! – was when one day Wahlberg’s second wife shows up with Wahlberg’s step-daughter for a visit, and so Wahlberg is the step-dad now. They are all having fun when the girl’s real dad shows up, who’s even more handsome, and has bigger muscles, and rides an even bigger Harley motorcycle, and puts Wahlberg in his place. I think the take-home message of the movie was don’t think you’re the super-cool dad because one day an even more super-cool dad may come home, and put you in your place.

I believe this Wahlberg movie can give us an insight into what is happening in the gospel today. How so? Well, Jesus walks into the Jerusalem Temple and calls it “my Father’s house,” and therefore the Temple is also Jesus house. Why? Well, because what belongs to the Father by right, will belong to the Son by inheritance. Jesus tells Philip, “If you have seen me you have seen the Father.” And therefore, Jesus starts cleaning house by making a whip out of cords and driving out of the temple the sheep and oxen and money-changers.

In other words, the scribes and Pharisees were like the spiritual step-fathers of the Jewish people, spiritual surrogates, taking the place of the true Father (God), that is, until “Daddy’s home.” The scribes and Pharisees thought they were hot stuff, like Wahlberg the cool dad, until Jesus came home to take his rightful place. You know, I have learned more good theology from watching movies than from reading hundreds of theology books!

May I share with you a dream I have had ever since I came to Immaculate Conception over ten years ago? I love this beautiful, Gothic-Romanesque church, and there is just one thing wrong with it. Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament is not in his rightful place. He’s shoved over to the side, whereas the priest is in the most prominent place, front and center. All eyes are on the priest at Mass.

My dream, therefore, has always been to build a beautiful back altar and put it where the priests and deacons sit and move Jesus to the most prominent place in his house, this temple. That is, I want to say liturgically and architecturally, “Daddy’s home”! And put the priests and deacons over to the side, and recognize that I am essentially a step-dad, and one day the super-cool, real dad is going to come home. If Mark Wahlberg walks into IC I want him to see Jesus is front and center and maybe I’ll get a selfie with him!

My friends, do you mind if I bring this a little closer to home and show how it applies not only to this home we’re sitting in now but to your house you’ll go home to after Mass? You see, for the ancient Jews the temple was a miniature replica of the cosmos, and the cosmos was in turn a macro-temple. Think of how a dollhouse is a miniature version of a real house, but just with super small tables, chairs, beds, sinks, bathrooms, etc. The temple therefore is just the dollhouse, while the entire cosmos is the real house.

So, in that sense, this whole world we live in, including your house, is part of the macro-temple, that is, the whole universe is God’s house. And guess what, chicken butt? One day, Daddy’s coming home. And that means as stewards of creation we are in the position of Will Farrell and merely step-dads on earth, until the really super-cool Dad returns. By the way, this is exactly what happens in every Baptism. Your children are adopted into God’s family, and that means they really belong to God, who is their Daddy, Abba, Father. In other words, you become spiritual step-parents to your own children.

And just like in this micro-cosmos of Immaculate Conception church, Jesus needs to occupy the most prominent place, so in your home and in your heart, Jesus should occupy the most prominent place. In my parents’ house, they always erect a small altar to Jesus, with the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the middle surrounded by candles. It’s clear who is the head of my parents’ home: Jesus. That is, no matter how cool you think you are or how fancy a car you drive, or how big your muscles are, Jesus will be far cooler than that. And one day, Daddy’s coming home. You know, you guys really need to watch more movies.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

School of Suffering, Part 4

Studying the high science of Christian suffering

02/27/2024

Having completed the first two courses in the curriculum of suffering, or at least having surveyed them, we turn to the final course of specifically Christian suffering. Buckle up, folks, this may feel like a course in quantum mechanics. Up to this point we have deliberately refrained from citing Scripture passages when discussing involuntary and voluntary suffering. Why? Well, it seemed imperative to allow those subjects to stand on their own two legs of reason and nature rather than invoke revelation and faith. Even so, nothing truly stands alone without God’s grace to support it. But now we may sort of “release the holy hounds” of Scripture and tradition as we attempt to study the subject of Christian suffering per se. That is, we must investigate how the coming of Christ has completely changed the conversation about suffering, pain, and finally death, so we can say with the same bold conviction as St. Paul, “Death is swallowed up in victory” (1 Co 15:54). And I would like to look at Christian suffering under three different aspects: (1) suffering as penance or purification, (2) suffering as a path to perfection, and (3) suffering as a preview of Paradise.

First, St. Paul strikes the right penitential note regarding suffering in Gal 2:20, where he writes: “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me; and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself up for me.” And St. Paul certainly seems to refer to the stigmata (the five wounds of Jesus) when he added at the end of Galatians: “for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus” (Gal 6:17). In other words, in the Christian mind suffering must start to look like a friend rather than a foe. Why is that? C. S. Lewis gave a colorful example, which resonated with me as I deal with my dog Apollo. Lewis warned: “Thus the terrible necessity of tribulation (suffering) is only too clear…Let [God] but sheathe his sword (of suffering) for a moment and I behave like a puppy when the hated bath is over – I shake myself as dry as I can and race off to reacquire my comfortable dirtiness, if not in the nearest manure heap, at least in the nearest flower bed” (The Problem of Pain, 107). That is, even though Baptism has washed away the Original Sin of Adam – like a dog given a bath – the old Adam’s tendency to sin is still alive in me – I run to play in the manure heap.

St. Paul described this lingering tendency to sin in Rm 7:23, “I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin which dwells in my members.” In other words, we are in a constant state of war; not primarily with Russia, or Hamas, or totalitarian regimes. But rather waging the forgotten war with ourselves, a war of constant purification. In order for Christ to live in me, my old self must die and that requires suffering, a daily death to self. This is why we perform penances during Lent: fasting, abstaining from meat, giving up chocolate or alcohol, etc. And notice, too, this penance or purification is not merely about physical or financial fitness, and even goes beyond altruistic love of family or nation. That is, while suffering as penance may have some natural effects – not eating chocolate may help you lose weight – its basic outlook and final purpose are entirely supernatural because it conforms us more completely to Christ. C. S. Lewis put it well, invoking John Henry Newman: “We are not merely imperfect creatures who must be improved: we are, as Newman said, rebels who must lay down our arms” (The Problem of Pain, 88). And that spiritual self-surrender demands sustained suffering called penance.

Now, it is one thing to heal a broken leg and get the patient off crutches. It is quite another matter entirely to train to run a marathon. That marathon is precisely the second level of Christian suffering as the path of perfection. Changing metaphors, once we have laid down our arms as rebels, we must train as spiritual shock troops in the Lord’s army. We find a compelling example of striving for perfection in the conversation between the rich young man and Jesus in Mt 19:16-22. Apparently the young man had already overcome many imperfections and had been morally purified because when Jesus tells him to keep the commandments, he confidently answers: “All these I have observed. What do I still lack?” (Mt 19:20). Then Jesus teaches him about suffering as the path to perfection, adding: “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven” (Mt 19:21). I will never forget Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen once remarked: “There is no crown without a cross.” But that price of perfection (the cross) was too high (for the crown), and so “he went away sorrowful” (Mt 19:22).

May I share with you why I spent three months with the Carmelites before I came to Immaculate Conception? I felt a lot like the rich young man in Matthew 19. I had kept the commandments but still wondered, “What do I still lack?” In other words, I desired a more complete commitment to Christ, in a word, perfection. Forgive me if this sounds arrogant, but I’m being honest. I was not content with merely walking with Jesus, I wanted to run ultra-marathons with the Lord. But after three months in Dallas I again felt like the rich young man and “went away sorrowful, for I had great possessions” (Mt 19:22). And one of my great possessions is the gift of gab: I cannot shut-up. I could not keep quiet long enough for Carmelite contemplation. Nonetheless, entering the cloistered Carmelites would have been a step toward greater perfection. Vatican II taught this in a document called “Perfectae Caritatis” (perfect charity or love). Vatican II echoes Jesus’ words to the rich young man, and to me (and perhaps to you), teaching: “Driven by love with which the Holy Spirit floods their hearts (cf. Rom 5:5) they live more and more for Christ and for His body which is the Church (cf. Col 1:24). The more fervently, then, they are joined to Christ by this total life-long gift of themselves, the richer the life of the Church becomes and the more lively and successful its apostolate (Perfectae Caritatis, 1). That is, perfect charity or love involves the relentless renunciation embodied in poverty, chastity, and obedience. Christian suffering is the surest path to spiritual perfection. And few and fortunate are they who find and follow it.

And thirdly, Christian suffering opens the doors to paradise by affording us a preview of coming attractions. The spiritual masters distinguished three stages of the spiritual life: the purgative, the illuminative, and the unitive. St. John of the Cross, in his sublime book The Ascent of Mount Carmel, offered spiritual souls “instructions for climbing to the summit, the high state of union” (The Ascent of Mount Carmel, I, 13, 10). There we find these paradoxically poetic lines: “To reach satisfaction in all / desire satisfaction in nothing. / To come to possess all / desire the possession of nothing. / To arrive at being all / desire to be nothing. / To come to the knowledge of all / desire the knowledge of nothing. / To come to enjoy what you have not / you must go by a way in which you enjot not. / To come to the knowledge you have not / you must go by a way in which you know not. / To come to the possession of you have not / you must go by a way in which you possess not. / To come to be what you are not / you must go by a way in which you are not” (The Ascent of Mount Carmel, I, 13, 10). This is what Carmelites call the “nada doctrine” of St. John of the Cross – St. John was a Carmelite mystic. “Nada” in Spanish means “nothing.” That is, spiritual union with God requires that we relinquish what is not God, which is everything else. Only if our hands are empty can we receive what someone wants to give us. We cannot be filled with God until we are empty of ourselves. This Christian suffering called self-emptying, desiring nada, therefore, carries us to the heights of spiritual union with God, which St. John describes as reaching the summit of a mountain much higher than the Himalayas.

One of the great, yet surprising, Christological hymns by St. Paul in the New Testament is found in Phil 2:6-11. Instead of lauding the power, wisdom, and love of Jesus (which he does elsewhere like Col 1:15-20), Paul praises Jesus’ humility, self-emptying, and sacrifice of our Lord, writing: “Though [Christ] was in the form of God…[he] emptied himself, taking the form of a servant…and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2: 6, 7, 😎. Paul’s point is that this suffering, humiliation, and ignoble death is what Christianity looks like on earth, even though what awaits us in heaven is the victor’s crown. Stunning as it sounds to common sense, we are most authentically Christian when things are going their worst – and we cheerfully carry the cross – rather than when things are going well.

C. S. Lewis concludes his book The Problem of Pain by audaciously suggesting that this sacrificial self-emptying will continue even after we enter the halls of heaven, although there it will feel rapturous and triumphant. He writes lines I can scarcely comprehend (see what you can make of them): “We need not suppose that this necessity for something analogous to self-conquest will ever be ended, or that eternal life will not also be eternal dying. For in self-giving, if anywhere, we touch a rhythm not only of all creation but of all being” (The Problem of Pain, 157). And then Lewis quotes his mentor George MacDonald, observing: “For the Eternal Word [Jesus] also gives himself in sacrifice; and that not only on Calvary. For when He was crucified He ‘did that in the wild weather of His outlying provinces which He had done at home in glory and gladness.’ From before the foundation of the world He surrenders begotten Deity back to begetting Deity in obedience” (The Problem of Pain, 157). This, therefore, is the fundamental law of all reality, both heavenly and earthly, namely, as Jesus taught: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (Jn 12:24). This, furthermore, is the ultimate sense of suffering. The surprising even paradoxical character of Christian suffering consists in a surrender that leads to victory, a sacrifice that leads to perfection, and a death that leads to life. And if you can learn and live that, quantum mechanics will seem like child’s play.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

School of Suffering, Part 3

Exploring the aristocratic nature of voluntary suffering

02/26/2024

We move now from considering the more democratic kind of involuntary suffering (like death) which touches everyone, to the voluntary suffering which we might label more aristocratic because it is embraced by fewer and nobler souls. Aristocracy means rule by the noble few. Surprising as it sounds, some people actually seek suffering, not because they suffer from some mental disorder but because they feel their sacrifices might help restore the proper order in themselves and others. We are, of course, still on the natural, human level of suffering, and not talking about suffering motivated by supernatural faith in Jesus. Voluntary suffering is about being super good, not super holy. We are not yet ready for the high science of Christian suffering. That is, even before the birth of Christ – and even after in some instances of ignorance – some noble souls willingly shouldered suffering for their own personal growth or for the good of others. Therefore, we will explore voluntary suffering under two headings: (1) for personal benefits, and (2) for altruistic purposes.

A common example of personally motivated, voluntary suffering occurs every January first. Many people make New Year’s Resolutions, which typically entail some sacrifice, like diet and exercise. People make their physical health a priority and consequently willingly embrace suffering. Such voluntary suffering is for purely personal gain – no pain, no gain – and all good doctors highly recommend it. My parents, for example, have started a new exercise routine called “chair yoga,” and I occasionally join them. It is low impact yoga, and mostly involves stretching muscles. It may sound easy, but I was sweating after thirty minutes.

But physical fitness does not exhaust all the personal reasons for voluntary suffering; they can also be chosen for fiscal or financial fitness. I am a fan of the Dave Ramsey school of managing money because he advocates delayed gratification rather than immediate gratification. Put simply, save before you spend. I bought one of Dave Ramsey’s books, called The Total Money Makeover. At the bottom of every page is his personal motto: “If you will live like no one else, later you can live like no one else.” That is, most people spend recklessly and save rarely. Dave recommends the opposite approach to money management, namely, save regularly, and spend responsibly. Notice here the motive behind such voluntary sacrifices is purely personal, we might almost say “selfish” in the best sense of selfish as becoming the best version of yourself: disciplined. We are not yet suffering for others (although others may approve of the new you), and still far from suffering for Christ (although divine grace is surely operative whenever we do any good).

Another form of voluntary suffering is altruistic, or embraced for the good of others. The first person who suffers altruistically that should come to everyone’s mind is their own mother. Why? No one would be here if their own mother had not willingly endured the curse of Eve in Gn 3:16, “in pain you shall bring forth children”. By the way, Hispanic mothers regularly refuse to take an epidural shot during labor to avoid any undue risk to their baby or themselves. They willingly endure the full weight of Eve’s curse. But motherly love and concern does not stop at childbirth. Our church secretary has a funny sign on her desk that reads: “’It’s like no one in my family appreciates that I stayed up all night overthinking for them,’ signed, Mom.” The behavior of children causes not only the Virgin Mary’s heart to be pierced by a sword; all loving mom’s hearts are so pierced. Naturally, husbands and fathers also make sacrifices for their families, but we don’t receive the same publicity, which is part of the sacrifice itself. Notice, again, that this form of altruistic suffering is not necessarily motivated by faith in Christ or (obvious) grace – it is not properly supernatural – it is, rather, born from natural instincts and familial love and care.

Another higher level or layer of altruistic, voluntary suffering is patriotic sacrifice embraced for one’s country, especially by joining the military. Archbishop Fulton Sheen, in his autobiography Treasure in Clay, refers to two renowned world leaders who embraced celibacy for others: Mahatma Gandhi, for the sake of the untouchables in India (I’m not sure what Mrs. Gandhi thought about that), and United Nations secretary general Dag Hammerskjöld, for the sake of world peace (cf., Treasure in Clay, 206). My nephew Isaac, graduated from West Point last year, and is now stationed in Poland. I am in awe and gratitude of his readiness to serve his country and, if necessary, to make the ultimate sacrifice for her. We have added a petition every at Sunday Masses so our courageous men and women in the armed forces do not have to make that ultimate sacrifice. But they are ready to if called upon.

On November 19, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln traveled to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania to dedicate a cemetery and give a brief speech. He delivered one of the most memorable speeches of all time because he intended to honor those who made the ultimate, altruistic sacrifice for their country. The sixteenth president acknowledged humbly: "But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here, to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly” – notice the nobility of such sacrifice – “advanced…[T]hat we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” I cannot think of a more patriotic speech – except perhaps Mark Antony’s eulogy of Caesar in Shakespeare’s play “Julius Caesar” (III, ii, 1617-1797) – that praises the heroic nature of altruistic, voluntary suffering.

This, then, is the second course of studies in our school of hard knocks, this academy of aches. Unlike the first course of involuntary suffering which touches everyone without exception – democratic we might say – voluntary suffering by contrast can be described by the Marine Corps motto: “The few, the proud, the Marines.” That is, unlike most people whose personal paradigm is to maximize pleasure and minimize pain, some people discover the value of voluntary suffering. Among this remarkable minority of the human race, some accept suffering for physical fitness or financial fitness. Whereas, within families and nations there is an even narrower, nobler few, an aristocracy of altruistic sufferers, that put other’s happiness before their own. They are willing to die so that others may live – their “death” might give this nation “a new birth" – mothers and fathers, and men and women in uniform who protect the freedoms the rest of us take for granted. As King Henry declared in his famous St. Crispian’s Day speech: “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; / For he to-day that shed his blood with me / Shall be my brother” (Henry V, IV, iii).

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Higher Holiness

Seeking the holiness that begins in the heart

02/24/2024

Mt 5:20-26 Jesus said to his disciples: "I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter into the Kingdom of heaven. "You have heard that it was said to your ancestors, You shall not kill; and whoever kills will be liable to judgment. But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment, and whoever says to his brother, Raqa, will be answerable to the Sanhedrin, and whoever says, 'You fool,' will be liable to fiery Gehenna. Therefore, if you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift there at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother, and then come and offer your gift. Settle with your opponent quickly while on the way to court. Otherwise your opponent will hand you over to the judge, and the judge will hand you over to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Amen, I say to you, you will not be released until you have paid the last penny."

If I were to ask you, who are the really holy people in the Church, what would you reply? Most Catholics would probably answer that refers to the priests, nuns and monks. After all, they dedicate their lives to God and the Church, and heck, they sure look holy in their priestly collars and brown robes and veils and habits. Right? But I would suggest to you that is exactly the wrong way to think about holiness and being a saint. Why is that?

I hear a lot of confessions, and probably over a hundred each week. And I gotta tell you, I am always humbled by what I hear. Yes, people sin, and some of the stuff they say is pretty bad. You want to know what they say? Sorry, I cannot tell you. But far more important is their sorrow for sin, and their desire to do better. I often think when someone walks out of confession: “Man, that girl is a lot holier than I am!” In other words, lay people – moms and dads, teachers and coaches, lawyers and doctors, ditch-diggers and housekeepers, and yes even high school students, are reaching the heights of holiness faster and more frequently than many priests, monks and nuns. The reality of holiness is often the reverse of what we think.

In the gospel today, Jesus says the same surprising and paradoxical thing: “I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” That is, Jesus’ followers must seek a higher holiness than the professional religious of their day, meaning, the priests, monks and nuns of the first century. How will they reach this higher holiness?

Jesus says holiness is not about wearing a Roman collar or a brown robe or swinging a rosary around like a lasso. Holiness begins and ends in the heart. So, for example, he says don’t grow angry with your brother. In other words, holiness is hidden in the heart and thus confidential, like what I hear in confession. Boys and girls, I know who is holy in this school because I hear your confessions, and the holiest person ain’t me. So, good job, your righteousness is surpassing that of the scribes and Pharisees.

Have you ever heard of St. Josemaria Escriva? He was a priest in Spain who died in 1975. During his life he tried to practice and preach what Jesus urged in the gospel today, namely, holiness is for everyone, not just the professional religious priests, nuns and monks. He proposed a bold new way to grow in holiness through our work or our vocation in life. He would say startling things like: your altar where you offer sacrifice like a priest at Mass, is your ironing board where you iron your family’s clothes, your school desk where you take your tests as a student, your chalkboard where you write your lessons as a teacher, and so forth.

And we should do these activities – ironing, studying, teaching – not to impress other people, but for God. Notice the subtle change in the heart. On the outside we look like the rest of the world – moms, students, and teachers – but on the inside (in the heart) we are becoming saints. We are not living our lives for a "pat on the back" or more money, but for God. In other words, we may not wear a Roman collar, or look super holy, but that is how our righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees.

Boys and girls, I know the sophomores here at OCA are about to go on their week-long mission trip to help the poor in Kentucky. And that is truly wonderful, and I am proud of you. I used to go on annual mission trips to Honduras with 30 missionaries to help the poor there. And that is great too. But the higher holiness Jesus calls us to does not require going to Honduras but rather a change in the heart, why we do things. We do things for God not for others.

I know it doesn’t sound very sexy to stay home and iron clothes and do chores, or study algebra and history, or teach day after day, or write these ridiculous homilies every day. But when we do these things only for God, that is how our righteousness will surpass that of the scribes and Pharisees, too.

Praised be Jesus Christ!