Making and Being Made

Seeing how discipleship requires the cross of change

09/07/2025

Luke 14:25-33 Great crowds were traveling with Jesus, and he turned and addressed them, “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion? Otherwise, after laying the foundation and finding himself unable to finish the work the onlookers should laugh at him and say, ‘This one began to build but did not have the resources to finish.’ Or what king marching into battle would not first sit down and decide whether with ten thousand troops he can successfully oppose another king advancing upon him with twenty thousand troops? But if not, while he is still far away, he will send a delegation to ask for peace terms. In the same way, anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”

About a week ago my older brother, Paul, gave me a book to read called “Assembling Tomorrow.” And believe it or not, I actually read it! Who really reads a book a sibling gives them? We had been talking about AI recently and its far-reaching effects. The book also discussed the consequences of creating AI, but it also raises the question of creating anything at all, and how what we make in turn sort of makes us.

Consider these penetrating lines from the Introduction. The authors wrote: “We live in a moment when materials of making are blurring the lines between people, technology, and the natural world. Technology is getting more human-like, as computers take on the task of thinking for us and for themselves…Meanwhile our minds are media are so intertwined and entangled that it’s making our nervous systems nervous.”

But here, I believe, is the point (the thesis) of the book: “To be a maker in this moment – to be human today – is to collaborate with the world. It is to create and to be created, to work and to be worked on, to make and to be made.” In other words, we shape artificial intelligence, and in profound ways AI is shaping us. I was listening to a DJ on the radio who said: “You can be sure I am not an AI robot because I’m not artificial and I’m not very intelligent.”

In the gospel today Jesus also urges us to consider carefully the consequences – the cost – of our choice to follow him. He gives examples like constructing a tower, or leading an army into battle to highlight how the choice to follow Jesus will not only change the world, it will inevitably change us in the process: that is the cost we must calculate.

To put it in terms of my brother’s book: to become a disciple of Jesus is “to create and to be created, to work and to be worked on, to make and to be made.” That is, you cannot save the world without being saved in the process and that process always involves suffering deep change ourselves. Let me give you two examples of how creating something also creates us.

Perhaps the most dramatic instance of making and being made is having a baby. Both a mother and father cooperate with God to bring a new human being into the world. But that little being also, in effect, brings his or her parents into the world. How so? One friend of mine calls having a baby “induced maturity.”

Before you have a baby, it is easy to be immature: selfish and only concerned about your needs. But the day you have a baby you suddenly wake up to the world around you, and all the needs of your baby take priority. Our babies grow us up.How we make babies and how babies make us is summed up in this powerful poem called “A Little Fellow Follows Me.”

It goes: “A careful man I want to be, / A little fellow follows me, / I dare not go astray, / For fear he’ll go the self-same way. / I cannot once escape his eyes, / Whatever he sees me do, he tries. / Like me, he says he’s going to be, / The little chap who follows me. / He thinks that I am good and fine, / Believes in every word of mine.

"The base in me he must not see, / That little fellow who follows me. / I must remember as I go, / Thru summer’s sun and winter’s snow, / I am building for the years to be, / This little chap who follows me.” But can there be any doubt that little chap has done a fair bit of building of his dad as well? Whatever we make in turn makes us.

A second scenario of creating something that also creates us is the vocation of marriage. When a man and a woman stand before God and exchange their marital vows they bring something new into the world, namely, a new family. That newness is symbolized by the gold rings, a shared last name, and enjoying the intimacy that should be saved for marriage. As C. S. Lewis said, marital intimacy is far more than “four bare legs in a bed.”

Some of you may know that I work on the diocesan marriage tribunal as a judge and deal with annulments. Sadly not all marriages stay intact and so we try to help them with an annulment so they are able to marry again and hopefully experience some healing. Why do they need to heal? Because few shocks in this world impact us as deeply as divorce which leaves lasting wounds.

The last question in the annulment questionnaire is intended to be self-reflective. It asks: “What have you learned after going through this annulment process?” If all someone can manage to answer is: “I learned that I married a jerk!” then they have missed a golden – even if grueling – opportunity to see how they not only contributed in making their marriage.

But also in profound, even permanent ways, that marriage also made them the person they are today. One of my favorite Buddhist proverbs is this: “My enemy, my teacher.” Tragically couples who had given their hearts to each other at a wedding, after a divorce, look at each other as the enemy. Still, we learn some of the most valuable lessons from our enemies than from our friends.

What does it mean to be a disciple of Jesus Christ? At root it means to go out and build the Kingdom of Christ in the world. But it also means, and no less importantly, to be built up in the process. Whatever we create – even the Kingdom – inevitably ends up creating us, and that process is not painless. And that making and being made is the true cost of discipleship.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Our Last Stand

Turning our eyes to our heavenly hometown

09/02/2025

Luke 4:31-37 Jesus went down to Capernaum, a town of Galilee. He taught them on the sabbath, and they were astonished at his teaching because he spoke with authority. In the synagogue there was a man with the spirit of an unclean demon, and he cried out in a loud voice, "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are–the Holy One of God!" Jesus rebuked him and said, "Be quiet! Come out of him!" Then the demon threw the man down in front of them and came out of him without doing him any harm. They were all amazed and said to one another, "What is there about his word? For with authority and power he commands the unclean spirits, and they come out." And news of him spread everywhere in the surrounding region.

Because we live in such a mobile society, many people often have two hometowns. That is, a town that they are born into and another town they are adopted into. For example, I was born in New Delhi, India and lived there for about 7 years. When my family moved to the United States, we lived in several places: New York City, Hillsboro, TX, and finally Little Rock.

But for the past 12 years I have lived in the great metropolis of Fort Smith. And like General Custer, I think this will be my last stand. Bishop Taylor told us priests that once he finds a good fit for a priest in a certain parish, he does not like to move them. So, let’s all pretend Immaculate Conception in Fort Smith is a really good fit for me and for you parishioners so the bishop will leave me here.

So, now I have two hometowns: New Delhi, India by birth and Fort Smith, AR by adoption. And I really love my adopted hometown. Every time I travel to NWA or Texas or Florida to visit family or friends, I feel great peace, joy, and excitement coming home to Fort Smith. There is no feeling like driving over the Garrison Bridge and seeing Immaculate Conception Church standing tall at the head of the avenue, not unlike how Odysseus felt in returning home to Ithica after the 20 year Trojan War.

When we study closely the geography of Jesus’ life on earth, we quickly discover that our Lord also had two hometowns. We know that after being born in Bethlehem, our Lord was taken by Mary and Joseph to Nazareth, where he lived for 30 years. For all practical purposes, Nazareth was Jesus’ native town. The word “native” means where someone was born or raised, like New Delhi for me.

But Jesus had a second hometown by adoption, namely, Capernaum, about 40 miles northeast of Nazareth. In today’ gospel from Luke 4:31-37, we see Jesus entering his second hometown, Capernaum, and preaching with authority and even driving out demons with the power of God. By the way, I too have tried to preach with authority – I have published 3 books of my preaching – and I drive out demons every time I baptize a baby, indeed in administering any sacraments the demons flee.

In other words, for 3 years of his public ministry, from the age of 30 when he left Nazareth to the age of 33 when he journeyed to Jerusalem for his passion, death, and resurrection, Jesus sets up shop in Capernaum, his second hometown by adoption. And significantly, it is in Capernaum that Jesus calls his first disciples: Andrew and Peter, James and John, and Matthew the tax-collector in Capernaum.

Nonetheless, Jesus’ true mission and ministry was not to teach us how to feel comfortable in our hometowns by birth or by adoption. Rather, he came to show us our true home is heaven. The Letter to the Hebrews underscores this point several times. In Heb 11:10 we read: “For [Abraham] was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builders is God.

And toward the end in Heb 13:14, one of my favorite passages, we learn: “We have here no lasting city” – not even Fort Smith – “but we seek the one that is to come.” In other words, as Christians more than we love our hometown by birth and even more than we long to return to our hometown by adoption (like I love returning to Fort Smith), we should look forward to our ultimate hometown called “heaven.”

And every time we enter this church and celebrate Mass, we should feel like we have sacramentally traveled to our heavenly homeland. If we open our eyes of faith we will see this church at Mass crowded with the citizens of heaven: angels, saints, martyrs, apostles, prophets, kings, priests, and seated next to Jesus, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the queen Mother.

As Heb 12:22 puts it: “You have approached Mount Zion and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and countless angels in festal gathering.” And we should long for that heavenly homecoming even more than Odysseus longed for Ithica, because that is the deepest layer of meaning of that ancient Greek epic. And heaven will be our real last stand.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Rest on Labor Day

Seeing human labor as participating in divine labor

09/01/2025

Luke 4:16-30 Jesus came to Nazareth, where he had grown up, and went according to his custom into the synagogue on the sabbath day. He stood up to read and was handed a scroll of the prophet Isaiah. He unrolled the scroll and found the passage where it was written: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord. Rolling up the scroll, he handed it back to the attendant and sat down, and the eyes of all in the synagogue looked intently at him. He said to them, "Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing." And all spoke highly of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.

Have you ever noticed the great irony about Labor Day weekend? Even though we recognize the value of labor, or work, we do so precisely by resting or taking a break from work. You would think that if you were going to labor on any day of the year, it would be on Labor Day. But strangely we honor labor by not laboring.

And that irony is as it should be for us human beings who only ever labor intermittently and imperfectly in imitation of God, whose labor of love, his real work, never ceases or shows any defects. And what exactly is God’s work? What does God do all day? Put simply, it is to create everything out of nothing, and then to eternally hold that creation in existence.

Let me share with you my favorite (and a phenomenal) sentence by Etienne Gilson that hits the nail on the head regarding God’s work of creation: “This created universe, of which St. Augustine said that it ceaselessly leans over towards the abyss of nothingness, is saved at each moment from collapse into nothingness by the continuous giving of a being which, of itself, it could neither give, not preserve” (The Spirit of Medieval Philosophy, 70-71).

Think of an unborn baby in its mother’s womb entirely dependent for its existence on its mother. What would happen if the mother were to remove its life-giving apparatus called the womb and thrust the baby out? It would die in very short order. Every abortion is the polar opposite of the labor of love that God performs from the beginning and does so continuously.

This world, then, in which we “live and move and have our being” (Acts 7:28), is God’s womb. And God never aborts his creation, no matter how inconvenient we might be (and we are often inconvenient to him). But rather he lovingly holds us in existence. That eternal sustaining of creation is God’s perennial and perfect work.

And that divine work or labor gives us a clue to the real value of human work – in the office, at a factory, in a classroom, driving a bus, delivering the mail, balancing the books, or cooking and cleaning at home, etc. – we participate however temporarily in that work of sustaining creation in existence and pushing it forward through time. That is why we get out of bed in the morning.

Mother Teresa put our human participation in divine labor memorably saying: “Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks with compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world.” In other words, the true value of human labor is to share in a small way in the divine labor called “creation.”

And this notion of human labor as a sharing in God’s work sheds light to a superlative degree on what we priests do. I often joke with people that priesthood is the best job in the world because I only work one day a week: on Sunday! But sometimes I feel like I do the work of six days in that one 24-hour period.

For example, yesterday I celebrated the 7:30 a.m. English Mass, preached the homily at the 10 a.m. English Mass. Then I celebrated the two Spanish Masses at 12 noon and 2 pm, and after the 2 p.m. Mass blessed a quinceanera. A parishioner approached me to ask that I visit a lady with cancer and give her the anointing of the sick at home.

Then I drove to Springdale and celebrated a fourth Mass for my parents and brother and sister who was visiting from Orlando. During dinner I got a call to anoint someone at Washington Regional who would have surgery today. And driving home to Fort Smith I stopped by Mercy Hospital to anoint a man who was on life-support. And then of course, I had to walk Apollo.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not complaining, I’m bragging! But in every instance of blessing, celebrating Mass, anointing of the sick, etc., I do on a much smaller scale and sacramentally what God the Father and God the Son do flawlessly and forever: sustain creation in existence. Human labor’s true raison d’etre finds its deepest roots in imitating divine labor.

Every morning I leave the rectory at 5:17 a.m. to open the church. Incidentally, the gospel of John 5:17 reads: “My Father is at work until now, and I am at work.” Our humble work of opening the doors of the church every morning is a modest participation in God’s work of sustaining and saving the world. And that is the meaning of Labor Day, and why we rest.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

It’s Not the Plane

Choosing the lowest place so Jesus can lift us higher

08/31/2025

Luke 14:1, 7-14 On a sabbath Jesus went to dine at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, and the people there were observing him carefully. He told a parable to those who had been invited, noticing how they were choosing the places of honor at the table. "When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not recline at table in the place of honor. A more distinguished guest than you may have been invited by him, and the host who invited both of you may approach you and say, 'Give your place to this man,' and then you would proceed with embarrassment to take the lowest place. Rather, when you are invited, go and take the lowest place so that when the host comes to you he may say, 'My friend, move up to a higher position.' Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table. For every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted." Then he said to the host who invited him, "When you hold a lunch or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or your wealthy neighbors, in case they may invite you back and you have repayment. Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."

John Maxwell, the leadership expert, tells the story of a CEO who arrived late for an important board meeting. Even though he was the head of the board of directors, he slipped through the door unannounced, took the first available seat, not wanting to interrupt the discussion. One of the junior members objected by saying, “Please, sir, come sit at the head of the table.”

The wise leader smiled and replied, “Son, wherever I sit is the head of the table.” As Rooster reminded Maverick in the movie “Top Gun,” “It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot.” In other words, true leadership is not demonstrated by one’s position on the company ladder, or your place at table, or even the plane you fly, but by the qualities of the heart: integrity, courage, honesty, cheerfulness, and above all, humility.

In the gospel today, Jesus echoes the same attitude of the tardy CEO. He tells a parable about places to sit at a banquet, and he advises: “When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet do not recline at table in a place of honor.” Instead, Jesus indicates where we should sit: “go and take the lowest place.”

And why should Christians play musical chairs at dinner and grab the cheap seats? Jesus explains: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled and everyone who humbles himself will be exalted.” Like the tardy CEO, Jesus too teaches that it’s not external marks of distinction that indicate greatness but the internal character of soul, especially humility.

Martin Luther King Jr. famously hoped for the same, when he said: “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” Or put in movie lingo, “It’s not the plane (the color of our skin); it’s the pilot (the content of our character).”

My friends, we all select our seats with great care, whether we’re picking a plane seat, a movie theater seat, or even a car seat. But let me suggest three scenarios in which to select your seat with more humility, that is, choose the lowest place. The first seat-selection scenario I learned in seminary. Our rector, Msgr. Kenneth Roeltgen, gave us several classes on etiquette, one of which was about seating when you eat out at a restaurant. He pointed out that some seats are more desirable than others.

For example, the seat which gives you a view of most of the restaurant is better than the seat where you have your back to the people. Furthermore, you should offer that seat with a view to the oldest member of your party or to the lady in your group. Can you guess why to offer the best seat to the lady? Not only because she can see everyone in the restaurant, but more so that everyone can see her. I learned more profound theology in that one class than in four years of ethics and dogmatics.

The second seat selection scenario is in church, especially when you come to Mass. We Catholics are incorrigible creatures of habit and once we pick a pew to plant ourselves in, we set deeper roots there than the redwoods do in California. Growing up in Little Rock my family attended St. Theresa’s Church. I could walk into church blind-folded and find the pew we sat in every Sunday. So, God help you if you sit in someone’s pew on Sunday. Get ready for the death stare.

But folks, we should be happy people are sitting in any pew in church on Sunday even ours. Why? Because at least they are not sitting on their couch at home. We may never know the courage it took for someone just to walk through the doors of a Catholic church. Like Jesus suggested, we should “go and take the lowest place” and humbly and happily find another pew. “It’s not the plane (or the pew); it’s the pilot.”

And for the third scenario of selecting a seat, I want to say a word about the horrific shooting at Annunciation School in Minneapolis. Our hearts and prayers go out to the precious children – especially the Fletcher Merkel and Harper Moyski who died – to their families and the entire school community. Such a school shooting is the stuff of a mother and father’s nightmares.

We have taken extra precautions here at Immaculate Conception School, including having armed officers at our Thursday school Masses. So, I hope students and families feel an added level of safety and security in coming to church. But I want to pick-up on Bishop Robert Barron’s remarks in the wake of the shooting. Among other things, he said the children who died were clearly martyrs for the faith. They died for Jesus.

Why is that? Well, there can be little doubt the shooter harbored anti-Catholic biases and motives. That is, he intended to hurt not only students and staff but also take a shot at the Catholic Church as an institution. Whether or not Fletcher and Harper were ready to be martyrs for the faith, they began their academic year by kneeling in church and asking for the Lord’s blessing on their new year and their life.

And they now will be forever remembered as children who not only lived for Christ, but also died for our Lord and Savior, because they picked a pew in church. In the end, the ignorant shooter did not make a ghastly mockery of the Church, he made two glorious martyrs of the Church: St. Fletcher and St. Harper. And those two students stand in heaven today as extraordinary examples of how “everyone who humbles himself shall be exalted.” Because after all, when you’re flying to heaven, “it’s not the plane (that matters); it’s the pilot.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Communist and a Count

Learning how to be a gentleman and a gentlewoman

08/26/2025

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

I learned the finest definition of a gentleman from reading a book by St. John Henry Newman called “The Idea of a University.” By the way, you may have heard that just last week Pope Leo XIV declared that John Henry Newman is a “Doctor of the Church.” Being a doctor of the Church does not mean Newman can prescribe medicine for physical maladies.

Rather, his writings provide healing for moral and spiritual maladies. His insights about the Christian faith are a salve for eternal healing and wholeness. In The Idea of a University, Newman offers a pithy definition of a gentleman writing: “a gentleman is someone who does not cause pain to another person.”

Would that all men might not just learn but live by that standard of being a gentleman, especially in their interactions with their wives. Incidentally, if you would like a 3-D, color version of a gentleman, I recommend a book called “A Gentleman in Moscow” by Amor Towles. What Newman put philosophically, Towles paints fictionally.

The notion of a gentleman comes to the foreground in Towles’ novel when the protagonist, Count Rostov, is invited to an unexpected dinner with a Russian Bolshevik. Count Rostov is an aristocrat doing his best to maintain his dignity and decency while under house arrest in a fancy hotel called “The Metropol.”

During dinner, the Communist – who is spying on the Count – asks: “What is it about me that makes you so sure that I am not a gentleman?” The Count’s answer essentially paraphrases Newman, saying: “As a host it was perfectly appropriate for you to take up the serving tools. But a gentleman would have served his guest before he served himself.”

The Count continues: “A gentleman wouldn’t gesture at another man with his fork, or speak with his mouth full.” Then he concludes: “But perhaps most importantly, he would have introduced himself at the beginning of a conversation – particularly when he had the advantage over his guest” (210). In a word, a gentleman makes life more pleasant, not more painful, for others.

In the gospel today, Jesus levels severe criticisms against the scribes and Pharisees that sound surprisingly similar to the Count’s complaints about the Communist. Our Lord states: “You pay tithes on mint and dill and cummin, but you have neglected the weightier things of the law: judgment and mercy and fidelity.”

That is, they obey the strict letter of the law while completely ignoring the spirit of the law. And what, at root, is the spirit of the law? The love of neighbor, or as Newman and Towles articulate it: “not to cause pain to others.” The scribes and Pharisees utterly fail at being gentlemen, like the communist.

My friends, I would encourage you to learn and live by Newman’s definition of a gentleman in all areas of life – not just men but also women – and try not to cause pain to others, because these are what Jesus calls, “the weightier things of the law.” But let me invite you especially to keep this principle in mind when you come to Mass and we try to pray together in community.

The best rule of thumb in celebrating the liturgy is don’t cause pain to others while you offer praise to God. Sometimes people ask me: should we hold hands during the Our Father? Should I kneel, stand, or sit when I return from Holy Communion? Should I genuflect or bow when I enter the sanctuary to serve as a Eucharistic Minister?

Should I leave right after I receive Holy Communion? Actually, no one asks that, they just do it. We can become Nazis (or Communists) about liturgical rubrics (rules) that we forget to put my neighbor at ease and help them to pray. We cannot pray to the God we cannot see while causing pain to the neighbor we can see.

Whether in the liturgy or in life remember that conversation between a communist and a count: “What is it about me that makes you so sure that I am not a gentleman?” Jesus would answer, “You have forgotten the weightier things of the law: judgment and mercy and fidelity.” And Newman, the newest Doctor of the Church, would have prescribed the medicinal reply: “a gentleman is someone who does not cause pain to another.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Shot at Heaven

Opening our hearts wide like the doors of heaven

08/24/2025

Luke 13:22-30 Jesus passed through towns and villages, teaching as  e went and making his way to Jerusalem. Someone asked h
im, "Lord, will only a few people be saved?" He answered them, "Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough. After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door, then will you stand outside knocking and saying, 'Lord, open the door for us.' He will say to you in reply, 'I do not know where you are from. And you will say, 'We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.' Then he will say to you, 'I do not know where you are from. Depart from me, all you evildoers!' And there will be wailing and grinding of teeth when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God and you yourselves cast out. And people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God. For behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last."

Have you heard the old joke about being quiet when you enter to heaven? A man arrives at the Pearly Gates and St. Peter asks him his religion. He answers, “Methodist.” St. Peter looks down his list and says, “Go to Room 24 but be very quiet as you pass Room 8.” Another person arrives at the gates of Paradise and Peter asks her religion. She replies, “I’m Jewish.” After examining his list, Peter replies: “Go to Room 18, but be very quiet as you pass Room 8.”

 A third man walks up to the gates of heaven and when asked his religion he responds: “I am a Mormon.” Peter tells him to go to Room 11, but be extra quiet as he passes Room 8.” The man stops to tell St. Peter he understand putting people of different religions in different rooms, but why should remain be quiet when he passes Room 8? St. Peter explains: “Well, the Catholics are in Room 8, and they think they are the only ones here.”

Of course, you can tell that joke and put any denomination in Room 8. Why? Well, because all faiths believe that to a greater or lesser degree. But I decided to put Catholics in Room 8 because of our traditional teaching called “extra Ecclesiam nulla salus.” That means, “outside the Church there is no salvation.” Put positively, only Catholics will go to heaven.

But Vatican II helped us to expand our understanding of that teaching which is still true. How so? Well, that wise ecumenical council taught that whenever someone is saved, the Church is “mysteriously present,” even if we cannot tangibly tell how the Church operates. Jesus the Head always works through his Body, the Church.

In other words, salvation may not be based on external evidence – what denomination one belongs to – but there will nonetheless be internal evidence – a heart brimming with unconditional love. And therefore, we believe that everyone who genuinely loves others has a shot at heaven.

Our Scriptures today speak resoundingly about how the Pearly Gates are open to every person, regardless of their color, culture, or creed. Isaish prophesies in the first reading: “I come to gather nations of every language; for they shall come and see my glory.” And then he adds what must have sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Jewish ears:

Isaiah prophesies: “Some of these [foreigners] I will take as priests and Levites, says the Lord.” You will recall that being a priest or Levite was not just exclusive to the Chosen People, but it was restricted to only one of the Twelve Tribes of Israel, namely, Levi. But Isaiah insists one day, everyone will have a shot not only at Paradise, but also at the priesthood.

And in today’s gospel from Luke 13, we read: “Someone asked him, ‘Lord, will only a few people be saved?’” That is, will only those in Room 8 be saved – because that is what every faith feels to some degree – or is heaven a lot bigger than one room, and therefore a lot bigger than one religion?

Jesus’ reply would eventually ring from all four corners of the globe: “People will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table at in the kingdom of God.” In other words, everyone will have a shot at heaven no matter what corner or compass point of th world you come from. The litmus test is love.

My friends, the more practical question for us is not whether there is room enough in heaven for everybody, like the man asked in the gospel, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” Heaven is as big as God’s heart, and all the people in the world can comfortably fit inside. That is not the problem.

Rather, we need to ask ourselves: Is there enough room in my heart for everyone? That is, are there only a few people that we allow to enter through the Pearly Gates of our hearts, while we shut out and shun others? Is my heart as big as God’s heart? Only then will I have a shot at heaven.

Let me leave you with this extraordinary example of loving without limits. A lady named Maria (that’s not her real name, I felt uncomfortable about disclosing her identity) asked me a couple of weeks ago to visit her ex-husband who was dying in the hospital and give him the Last Rites. She explained that he is from Mexico, and doesn’t have any family here, so she was trying to help him.

I ran into her again yesterday, and she told me the doctors said he doesn’t have long to live, and will send him back to Mexico in an ambulance. Maria told me she had had a restraining order put on him for domestic violence which is why they got a divorce. But she not only lifted that restraining order, she is raising money for his ambulance ride home.

She told me with tears in her eyes, “He is a human being an there is no one else here to care for him.” I was stunned by her humility, her sacrifice, and her ability to still love him despite being hurt by him. Maria wants everyone to have a shot at heaven, even her abusive ex-husband. That is love without limits. I have no doubt that when she knocks on Heaven’s Door, Peter will not only open the door, he will roll out the red carpet.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Noble Liturgy, Notable Land

Appreciating how the saints see land and liturgy

08/20/2025

John 17:20-26 Jesus raised his eyes to heaven and said: "Holy Father, I pray not only for these, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me. And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me. Father, they are your gift to me. I wish that where I am they also may be with me, that they may see my glory that you gave me, because you loved me before the foundation of the world. Righteous Father, the world also does not know you, but I know you, and they know that you sent me. I made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you loved me may be in them and I in them."

My summer reading has consisted of several books, one of which was (and still is because I’m not finished yet) Joan of Arc by Mark Twain. You know the story, at least its rough contours. Joan lived in the 1400’s, was an uneducated peasant girl from Ars, France, led the armies of France against the occupying English – I can sympathize with Joan being an Indian who wanted to oust the English, too – defeated them, and crowned Charles VII the true king of France.

Let me share one beautiful quote from Twain’s playful pen. He wrote: “Consider this unique and imposing distinction. Since the writing of human history began, Joan of Arc is the only person, of either sex, who has ever held the supreme command of the military forces of a nation at the age of seventeen.” And incidentally, what were you and I doing at the age of 17? Our highest ambition was probably “cruising Grand Avenue” and winning the state football championship.

And yet for all her innocence, sanctity, and single-minded purpose, something always bothered and bugged me about Joan of Arc. Why would a saint be so consumed – maybe obsessed? – with real estate and politics? Shouldn’t a saint’s primary preoccupation be prayer and the moral virtues? Who controls the country and who owns the land is the business of politicians not priests. But in Joan’s mind the two – church and state – were inseparable. Why?

Well, because of an ancient maxim that will sound absurd in the ears of modern American Catholics, namely, “cuius regio, eius religio,” literally rendered, “whose realm, his religion.” That is, whatever religion the king practiced automatically became the religion of all his subjects.

And if you belonged to another faith, your choices were simple: convert, leave the land, or be executed. Ah, the good old days! So, Joan’s main motivation was not so much the land but rather the liturgy, that is, greater freedom for the Church to expand the Kingdom of God, under a Catholic king. That is why she is a canonized saint.

All this rather lengthy introduction was a necessary prelude to understand the saint we venerate today, St. Bernard of Clairvaux. St. Bernard lived from 1090 to 1153 and died on August 20, hence today is his feast day. He initiated a reform of the Benedictine Order called the Cistercians.

Bernard felt the Benedictines had become soft in their religious zeal and believed the Cistercians would better reflect the original ideals of St. Benedict. He was the abbot of Clairvaux (hence his name, Bernard of Clairvaux), founded 163 monasteries, and was declared a doctor of the Church.

But what I want to highlight about St. Bernard is that he preached the Second Crusade to rescue the Holy Land from the Seljuk Turks, that is, the Muslims. In fact, St. Bernard wrote the constitution for the Knights Templars, whose primary purpose was to protect pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land. Of course being knights, they would also fight to defend the Holy Land from would-be occupiers, like the Muslims.

In this sense, St. Bernard in the 12th century had the same spirit that filled the heart of St. Joan of Arc in the 15th century. How so? They both perceived a deep connection between land and liturgy. Bernard wanted to protect and preserve the Holy Land so the faith could be practiced there, just like Joan of Arc wanted to free France from English tyranny so the faith could be freely practiced in France, long called “the eldest daughter of the Church.” In other words, both saints’ primary concern was not political but pastoral, to advance the needs of the Kingdom of God on earth.

Fast-forward to modern times, have you noticed how Catholics have always had a keen eye for land and the liturgy? Think of where Subiaco Abbey is located: perched atop a small mountain overlooking the swaying River Valley. St. Scholastica Monastery is built on the highest land in Fort Smith. And naturally, our own beloved Church of the Immaculate Conception is situated at the head of Garrison Avenue, praying for all the denizens of our fair city.

But never forget that our chief concern is not about retail value or resale value, when Catholics invest in land. We don’t care about the “ROI” – the “return on the investment” – but rather about the “Roi” (which is French for “king”). We invest in the Roi, the earthly king, so we get a better ROI, for the heavenly King, Jesus. And it is an undeniable fact that there can be no celebration of the liturgy without land upon which to erect a church. And the most noble liturgy should always stand on the most notable land.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

On Lorraine Tate’s 103 Birthday

Learning detachment from worldly wealth

08/19/2025

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

You have heard the old expression, “Have your cake and eat it too.” That means we are eager to have the best of both worlds, even though those worlds are incompatible, or even diametrically opposed, like heaven and hell. C. S. Lewis put this dichotomy memorably: “You cannot take all luggage with you on all journeys; on one journey even you right hand and your right eye might be among the things you have to leave behind.” You remember Jesus saying that if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off.

Yesterday, I went to visit Lorraine Tate who seems to have successfully defied this truism. Today is her birthday and she turns 103 years old. When I walked into her house, she covered her eyes to play a game that I was surprising her by my visit. In every respect she seemed full of life: physically, mentally, and now receiving Holy Communion, most importantly, spiritually. For 103 years Lorraine has managed to keep her right hand and her right eye, and everything else, intact.

In the gospel today, Jesus teaches that one of the opposites incompatible with heaven is worldly wealth. He states solemnly: “Amen, I say to you, it will be hard for one who  is rich to enter the Kingdom of heaven.” And later he adds emphatically: “For men this [being saved by relinquishing riches] is impossible, but for God all things are possible.” In other words, in the end you cannot have your cake and eat it too, not even sweet Lorraine Tate.

Where, then, does this stern teaching leave us today? Are we obliged to choose between the polar opposites of worldly riches and abject poverty? That seems to be the solution St. Peter strikes upon, offering: “We have given up everything and followed you. What will there be for us?”

And Jesus acknowledges that such sacrifice will be duly rewarded because those who do so will receive: “a hundred times more [of these goods], and will inherit eternal life.” So, such sacrifice and pursuing poverty is laudable and will be blessed.

Still, I don’t think these two poles are our only choices. Perhaps we can learn a lesson from Lorraine Tate and, in a very circumscribed sense, have our cake and eat it too. How so? Well, we must learn the meaning of detachment. That is, we should appreciate the goods of this world but not become overly attached to them.

Put differently, don’t let worldly wealth, affluence, material prosperity, become your “summum bonum” as the Medievals said, your “highest good.” When God is our highest priority, by contrast, everything (and everyone) else ultimately find their proper place on the ladder of importance.

Here are two tests to determine whether you are adequately detached or adamantly attached to this world, or as C. S. Lewis said, “to taking our right hand and right eye on every journey.” First, make regular donations to church and charity. (You knew I was going to go there.)

When we recognize and respond to the needs of the Church and the poor, we might also discover that these goods belong to them even more than they belong to us as private property. Church and charity have a certain claim on our possessions, and we gladly give them not out of a spirit of generosity but even out of justice. And that understanding develops due detachment.

A second test of detachment is how we react when some disaster or loss occurs destroying or diminishing our possessions. When the stock market crashed in 1929, on so-called Black Monday, some people despaired and committed suicide. Why? They were overly attached to their wealth, and felt they lost their greatest possession.

How do you react when hail or a tornado damage your property, or the stock market takes a downturn, or you spill ketchup on your favorite white dress? Or how do you react when you get cut off in traffic or deal with your spouse’s idiosyncrasies that irritate you? Can you keep your cool or do you lose your mind? Keeping your cool is a good sign of detachment.

So, can you have your cake and eat it, too? Well, yes and no. Yes, we can use these world’s goods for our benefit and to bless those in need. But at the end of the day, our hearts should not be here on earth, but in heaven. And if I had to guess based on visiting Lorraine Tate yesterday, that is exactly where her 103 year-old heart is today on her birthday.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

From Monkey to Monk

Seeing how Jesus cracks our biospheres to make us grow

08/17/2025

Luke 12:49-53 Jesus said to his disciples: "I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing! There is a baptism with which I must be baptized, and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished! Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. From now on a household of five will be divided, three against two and two against three; a father will be divided against his son and a son against his father, a mother against her daughter and a daughter against her mother, a mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law."

Recently I’ve been reading a book called Think Like a Monk by an Indian author from England named Jay Shetty. Just like I spent 3 months with Carmelite monks, so Jay Shetty spent 3 years learning the wisdom of Buddhist monks. He suggests that Buddhist wisdom can help us go from having a “monkey mind” to a “monk mind”.

Shetty shared an example of how to change from a monkey to a monk. He wrote: “A few decades ago, scientists conducted an experiment in the Arizona desert where they built “Biosphere 2” – a huge steel and glass enclosure with air that had been purified, clean water, nutrient-rich soil, and lots of natural light. It was meant to provide ideal living conditions for the flora and fauna within.”

Shetty continued: “And while it was successful in some ways, in one way it was an absolute failure. Over and over, when trees inside the Biosphere grew to a certain height, they would simply fall over. At first the phenomenon confused scientists. Finally, they realized that the Biosphere lacked a key element necessary to the trees’ health, [namely] wind.”

Shetty explained why: “In a natural environment, trees are buffeted by wind. They respond to that pressure and agitation by growing stronger bark and deeper roots to increase their stability.” Then Shetty drew this practical conclusion: “We waste a lot of time and energy trying to stay in the comfortable bubble of our self-made Biospheres. We fear stress and challenges of change, but those stresses and challenges are the winds that makes us stronger” (p. 50). In short, winds make us go from monkeys to monks.

In the gospel today, Jesus talks about one of the self-made biospheres called our families. But our Lord intends to crack open these family biospheres to help us grow stronger in his grace. He says: “From now on, a household of five will be divided three against two and two against three. A father will be divided against his son and a son against his father, a mother against her daughter and a daughter against her mother.”

Of course, we all want our families to resemble the old TV show “Leave It to Beaver” or our homes to look like those displayed in a Norman Rockwell painting. But the realty is there is always family strife: divisions, disappointments, divorce, and finally death. But those winds of change and challenge do not have to be all negative, they can make us stronger and depend more entirely on God’s grace. In other words, Jesus sometimes allows bad things to happen to good people. Why? So that good people can become saints.

My friends, what other self-made biospheres incubate and insulate ourselves in order to live a pain-free and carefree life? I was very pleased to hear that Fort Smith public schools implemented a no cell phone policy on all campuses this year. It is called “Bell to Bell, No Cell.” By the way, the kids hate it. But that disruption and discomfort is a wind that blows slowly changing their thinking from monkeys to monks.

We can create spiritual biospheres in our faith journey, never wandering off our spiritual safe spaces. Instead of being a pew potato and always following your spiritual routine, which really becomes a spiritual rut, push yourself outside your self-made biosphere. Become a lector at Mass, a Eucharistic Minister, an Usher. Or join a parish group, the Knights of Columbus, the Ladies Auxiliary, or become a Catechist.

All the spiritual masters tell us that if we do not seek spiritual change and growth, Jesus will impose it. He may send us a “dark night of the soul.” That’s not a new Batman movie; but a spiritual dryness and desert-like experience, a profound desolation. Mother Teresa for several years toward the end of her life doubted that God even existed. You don’t become a saint without suffering.

Do you create political biospheres? We can listen exclusively to conservative commentators on the right, or only to progressive pundits on the left, and feel we know what is best for others and for the world. When I watch the news, I’m constantly switching between CNN and Fox News. I run between those two biospheres and hope somewhere in between I can find the political truth. We have enough political monkeys and not many political monks.

By the way, do you know who “the big three” are in tennis? They are Rafael Nadal, Roger Federer, and Novak Djokovic. Several years ago, Fr. Daniel Velasco and I were watching tennis on TV and I casually remarked: “Can you imagine how many more titles that Rafa or Roger or Djokovic could have won if the other two had not lived at the same time?” He answered: “It is precisely because all three were present that each became so great, because they pushed each other to greatness.” In other words, the big three did not live in a self-made biosphere.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Making a Mother Smile

 

Appreciating Jesus’ gift of the Assumption of Mary

08/15/2025

Luke 1:39-56 Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. And Mary said: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant. From this day all generations will call me blessed: the Almighty has done great things for me and holy is his Name. He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation. He has shown the strength of his arm, and has scattered the proud in their conceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. He has come to the help of his servant Israel for he has remembered his promise of mercy, the promise he made to our fathers, to Abraham and his children forever.” Mary remained with her about three months and then returned to her home.

All good children love to give their mothers gifts to make them smile. Why? Well, because there is nothing in the world as beautiful as your mother’s smile, especially if you are the one who caused that smile to spread across her face. So, small children pick wild flowers and devoutly delivering them to their mothers like the Magi delivered the gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Others draw them pictures like Picasso (although much better than Picasso) depicting their mother’s beauty as well as their little hands and imaginations can. And the more spontaneous and unexpected the gift the better. No need to wait for Mother’s Day or mom’s birthday or Christmas. The impetuosity and impatience of a sudden gift – and children hate to wait! – make the gift priceless to a mother, and makes her smile.

But sometimes our moms tell us what kind of gift they would like to receive. One especially important gift my mom asked for was that I make sure my brother, my sister and I stay close to each other and not argue and fight. And you know, even though there’s only three of us, we fought like the 300 from Sparta. Isn’t that what all moms really want: to see their children love each other? So, I pray for that unity and harmony and try to love my brother and sister.

Today we celebrate the Assumption of Mary into heaven. And in a sense, the Assumption is really Jesus’ great gift as a loving Son to his beautiful Mother. How so? Well, the Assumption means that Mary did not die. Rather, at the end of her earthly life, she fell asleep in Jesus’ arms, and he raised her, both her body and her soul, into heavenly glory.

And in heaven Mary has a huge, beaming smile on her face – as bright as the sun and twinkling like the stars, as it says in Revelation 12. And I bet Jesus felt very pleased that he caused that joy and glory for his Mother as his gift to her. Every child loves to give gifts to their mother, and Jesus is no exception. Indeed, Jesus loves to give Mary gifts more than you and I do for our moms.

Today on the Assumption we should follow Jesus’ example and give our Mother Mary a gift too. Now, we cannot raise Mary’s body and soul into heaven. Why not? Well, because Jesus has already bestowed that gift on her. But I am convinced that Mother Mary would love the same gift that my mother wanted from me, namely, that her children love each other.

Mary is our spiritual mother, and as a consequence, every person on earth is our spiritual brother or sister: we all have the same spiritual mother. Therefore, the best gift we can give to Mother Mary is to love every person on earth because they are our brothers and sisters in Christ. That’s the best gift you can give any mother. And if you don’t believe me, just ask your mom, and watch her smile.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Shoulders Back

Learning how to watch for God’s grace entering our lives

08/10/2025

Luke 12:35-40 Jesus said to his disciples: “Gird your loins and light your lamps and be like servants who await their master’s return from a wedding, ready to open immediately when he comes and knocks. Blessed are those servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival. Amen, I say to you, he will gird himself, have the servants recline at table, and proceed to wait on them. And should he come in the second or third watch and find them prepared in this way, blessed are those servants. Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”

A few weeks ago I was walking into Mercy Hospital to visit a patient in the new wing of the hospital. The new building has a beautiful entry with large plate glass at an angle to the sidewalk. As I walked up to the building along the sidewalk, I noticed the reflection of a man ahead of me with hunched shoulders. I thought to myself, “Wow, that poor guy has really bad posture.” As I turned to enter the building and saw my reflection in the door, I was shocked because that man was me!

I recall my mom telling me many years ago while in seminary, “Son, straighten your back when you walk.” Of course, I ignored her like all stubborn sons do. And then, last week on the radio the commentator said: “Walking with shoulders back makes you look taller and skinnier.” So mom was right. That is, often God has to sneak into our lives through the backdoor not only to straighten up our shoulders but also to straighten up our lives.

In the gospel today Jesus uses a very surprising metaphor to describe how he will enter our lives, namely, as a thief in the night. Ostensibly, Jesus is talking about the end of time, the Parousia, when our Lord will return in glory riding on the clouds flanked by an army of angels. But long before he comes in glory, Jesus also says he will return like a thief in the night. In other words, Jesus will not only invade our lives at the end of time, but he does that all the time, even while entering Mercy Hospital, where I found mercy waiting both outside and inside.

C. S. Lewis explained why Jesus has to use this sneak-attack approach to enter our lives, saying: “Enemy-occupied territory – that is what this world is. Christianity is the story of how the rightful King has landed – you might say landed in disguise as one of us – and is calling us to take part in a great campaign of sabotage.” The only slight correction I would make is that the enemy-occupied territory is really our hearts. Why? Because our hearts are the hardest land for Christ tot conquer.

Let me share a few other ways our Lord constantly invades our hearts like a thief in the night. We will have around 35 people entering the OCIA this fall. OCIA are classes for those wanting to become Catholic. Each person’s faith story is unique, but the common thread is how Jesus has invaded their hearts, often disguised and in ways they did not expect. Jesus has not only stolen into their hearts, he has stolen their hearts. And now they hunger and thirst for the only true Food that satisfies, namely, the Eucharist, Jesus’ Sacred Heart. He steals our hearts, and then offers us his Heart in exchange. We definitely get the better end of that deal.

Another surprising and surreptitious way Jesus invades our hearts like a thief is through our family. But our ears are closed to the wisdom Jesus teaches us through their mouths, like my mom told me to straighten my shoulders. Mark Twain put it humorously, saying: “When I was 17 years old, I couldn’t believe how stupid my father was. But the time I turned 22, I was amazed how much he had learned in 4 years!” Of course, it was the young Twain who learned so much and matured. In other words, Jesus subtly stole into his heart and gave him his own Sacred Heart in exchange.

A third way Jesus sneaks into our lives that we usually fail to notice is through the sacraments and the Scriptures. A couple of weeks ago I played tennis with Adam Nash, a junior at Northside. He beat me because he did not know you’re always supposed to let the priest win. But between games he asked me: “Why do so many Catholic youth go to non-denominational churches instead of come to Mass?” I said sarcastically: “Maybe it’s the cupholders in the pews for chai lattes?” But then I asked him why he thought that was the case.

He replied thoughtfully: “Well, the teens are very active and engaged in community service projects and even mission trips. They loved to do things with their hands and work together.” Adam was exactly right: we Catholics could take a page from the Protestant playbook on youth ministry. Nonetheless, we should not forget how Jesus still sneaks into our lives through the sacraments and Scriptures.

My friends, Baptism, Confirmation, Confession, Matthew, Mark, and Luke may not sound super-fun or have much sex-appeal, but those are the means our Lord has used for 2,000 years to invade our hearts and transform sinners into saints. And those two tried and tested tools will be what he invariably uses until he returns in glory.

Today ask yourself: what ways is Jesus trying to sneak into my heart, in order to steal my heart and substitute his Sacred Heart for mine? Are there lessons my parents or siblings tried to teach me that was really Jesus talking through them? Could Jesus want to touch and transform my heart with a little splash of water, a smudge of oil, a bit of bread and a sip of wine? And next time you walk into Mercy Hospital, look at your reflection in the tall glass. Apparently, if you pull your shoulders back, you’ll look taller and skinnier.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

178-Day Walk

Beginning a new Catholic school year with Jesus

08/06/2025

Luke 9:28b-36 Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up a mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem. Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep, but becoming fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good that we are here; let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” But he did not know what he was saying. While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. They fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen.

Have you ever read J.R.R. Tolkien’s trilogy called “The Lord of the Rings”? I once heard it described sarcastically as, “Just a bunch of guys going for a really long walk.” On the surface of the story that certainly seems true – it is a long walk – but that’s a pretty shallow assessment of what is really unfolding in the plot. Let me give you a sample of the beauty and depth of Tolkien’s writing.

Bilbo, who has gone on a long walk with a bunch of guys in the first book called “The Hobbit”, warns his nephew: “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” That is, going out your door is a dangerous business, but also a highly rewarding business, because out your door awaits adventure.

Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration. Jesus Body is transfigured gloriously before the eyes of Peter, James, and John. Interestingly, in the gospel of Luke the Transfiguration occurs immediately before Jesus and the apostles head off the last time for Jerusalem where our Lord would be crucified. In other words, the Transfiguration marks the starting point where another “bunch of guys go for a really long walk.”

Just like Bilbo both warned and encouraged Frodo about his long journey, so Jesus Transfiguration is both a warning and an encouragement. How so? Well, he has already told them that in Jerusalem he will suffer and die. But now he assures them it will finally result in glory and resurrection. Walking with Jesus is indeed a dangerous business but in the end it will also be a richly rewarding business, namely, heavenly glory.

I think it is pretty easy to compare our experience of starting a new school year with the analogy of “a bunch of guys going for a really long walk.” In fact, we are about to embark on a 178-day walk! But the good news is we are journeying with Jesus, who can always “transfigure” – pun intended – the dangerous business of a school year into a richly rewarding business. Jesus’ grace always transforms apparent tragedy into absolute triumph.

Let me ask you to keep one lesson in mind about every time a bunch of guys goes for a really long walk. Every school year, walking and talking, learning and loving, and even studying and suffering together helps us get to know each other better, and even get to know ourselves better. Have you noticed this? And one thing we discover is that each person has special talents and gifts. Everyone without exception.

The bunch of guys that traveled with Frodo included an elf, a dwarf, a wizard, and a king. Each made an invaluable contribution to the success of their journey. So, too, with the apostles: each had talents and of course temptations and they all contributed to reaching the end of Jerusalem, and then in helping the Gospel to reach the ends of the earth. Each individual is indispensable.

I know you teachers and staff will help your students to discover their unique gifts and talents this coming 178-day journey. But let me encourage you to also notice each other’s gift and talents. One may be good at music (Ms. Stoddard), another in math, another teacher in motivating sluggish students, another has a heart for the struggling student, etc. Of course, each teacher and staff person has our own weaknesses and limitations, too.

It can be easy to focus on the weaknesses and forget the strengths, especially when we go out for drinks after work. Here are two rules of thumb for balancing strengths and weaknesses. First, compliment someone 10 times before you criticize them one time. And use the sandwich rule when you need to correct: point out something good, then mention the error, and then end with another compliment.

I don’t know if you’ve ever read “The Hobbit” or “The Lord of the Rings,” but I hope you will. And the movies are great, too, but the book is better. Why? The movies are produced by Peter Jackson but the books are authored by J.R.R. Tolkien. Far better than both is the 178-day walk we all are about to undertake together with Jesus. And with Jesus at our side, every error can be transfigured into ecstasy, every tragedy into triumph, and every gaff into glory.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Priestly Chest-Bumping

Honoring the patron saint of diocesan priests

08/05/2025

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

Yesterday evening I received a text from Fr. Savio requesting: “Fr. John tomorrow, August 4, is our feast. May I have the privilege of concelebrating Mass with you?” Of course I responded enthusiastically: “Absolutely, Father! That would be a blessing to me.” Why all this priestly chest-bumping yesterday? Well, today is the feast of St. John Mary Baptist Vianney, the patron saint of diocesan priests. St. John Vianney is our model and our mentor.

First let me note that not all priests are created the same. In the Church you find two different categories or kinds of priests. On the one hand, diocesan priests, like Fr. Savio and I, also known as secular priests. And on the other hand, you find religious order priests, like the monks of Subiaco Abbey, like Fr. Jerome Kodell. They are called regular priests. Being a regular priest does not have to do with their digestive system. But rather because they live according to a “regula” which is Latin for rule, like the regula (rule) of St. Benedict.

Diocesan priests like St. John Vianney and Fr. Savio and I do not live by a detailed daily regula, but according to the saecula, which is Latin for “the world,” or better “secular society.” In other words, our daily duties and routine are dictated by the demands of your life. We have 7 a.m. Mass because it suits you not me. We run to the hospital when you are sick. We hear your confessions when you feel far from God. Your secular life sets our weekly schedule. So we are secular priests.

Another helpful way to describe the difference between diocesan and religious order priests is to think of how the military is organized. On the one hand you have the U.S. Army, with its large fighting force stratified into its various ranks: private, corporal, captain, major, colonel, general. So, too, we diocesan priests are part of the Church Militant, fighting Satan. We are ranked as deacon, priest, bishop, cardinal, pope.

In addition to the marching military, though, the US military employs special forces, the Army Rangers, the Navy Seals, the Marine Commandoes, etc. They are smaller groups of highly trained teams who have a very unique skill set and a very narrow mission. So, too, religious order priests like the Benedictines live in a smaller group of men who have developed and honed unique skill sets for specific missions: to teach, to serve the poor, to pray, etc. So, today’s feast day is for the army, not the special forces.

Let me share a few fun facts about our patron saint, Jean Marie Baptiste Vianney. He was born on May 8, 1786 and died on August 4, 1859. Hence his feast day is on his second and real birth-day. August 4 is not in fact when he died but rather when he was born into eternal life. Generally speaking, most saints feast days are celebrated on the day they died, or more properly, the day they were truly born forever.

Second, St. John Vianney, is referred to in French as “Cure D’Ars”, the parish priest of the church in Ars, France. One of the note-worthy ways he served his parishioners was by spending 10, 11, 0r 12 hours in the confessional. People came from all over the world to go to him for confession. Why? Because he could read their souls, and tell you the sins you forgot to mention. You know, I too go to priests all over the world when I need to go to confession but it's because they can’t understand what I’m saying.

But my favorite story of St. John Vianney is his reaction to complaints from his brother priests. His popularity and piety and penances had made his brother priests green with envy. So they gathered signatures from all the priests to submit to the bishop saying that the Cure of Ars was unworthy to be a priest. John Vianney asked for the list and signed it himself, saying, “No one knows better than me how unworthy I am to be a priest.”

So today on the patronal feast day of diocesan priests, lowly grunts in the Army of the Lord, pray to St. John Vianney for us, that we may have zeal for souls, that we adopt personal penances for the good of the Church, and that we have a heart for sinners who come to us for confession. And may we be the first to acknowledge before God and the world that we are unworthy to be a priest.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Covered in Consecrated Hosts

Following the extraordinary example of Daphrose Rugamba

08/03/2025

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

Two weeks ago a friend, Dc. Angelo Volpi, handed me a book his wife, Lorel Wilhelm-Volpi, had written called Important Women of the 20th Century. Lorel rapidly reviewed the stories of 16 heroic women who lived their faith in extraordinary ways under excruciating circumstances. Angelo gave the book to Bishop Taylor who read one biography a day and completed the book in 16 days. I had to beat the bishop, so I read it in 7 days! Otherwise, what’s the point of the priesthood?

One of the 16 women touched my heart deeply: Daphrose Rugamba from Rwanda. Daphrose was born in 1944 and raised in a devout Catholic family. She was ethnically Tutsi, and married Cyprien Rugamba, a talented musician, poet, and choreographer. They had 9 children together. Unfortunately, Cyprien was unfaithful to Daphrose and had a child out of wedlock.

But Daphrose did not give up; instead, she not only forgave Cyprien’s adultery, she even adopted his son. In 1989 they established the Emmanuel Community to emphasize the dignity of each person, regardless of their ethnicity. They warmly welcomed both Tutsis and Hutus – bitter enemies in Rwanda – to join their Emmanuel Community and learn to live in peace with your enemy.

But on April 6, 1994, after they spent the night in Eucharistic Adoration, praying for peace, Hutu militia entered their family chapel and killed Daphrose, Cyprien, and 6 of their children. Lorel recounted the scene in her book: “The assassins gunned down the family and then fired into the tabernacle. When the Rugamba’s bodies were discovered they were covered with [consecrated] hosts.”

In other words, Daphrose was a living (and dying) icon of how to prioritize relationships above everything else. For example, she prized her husband and forgave his infidelity. She adored her family and not only had 9 children but adopted her husband’s child. She treasured the Rwandan people regardless of race. And she loved God above all who helped her to even love her enemies, the Hutus who murdered her.

In the gospel today, Jesus teaches the people how to put relationships before riches like Daphrose did. We read: “Someone in the crowd said to Jesus: “Teacher, tell my brother to share the inheritance with me.” That is, money mattered more to this man than the blood relationship with his brother. He put riches above relationships. By contrast, Jesus insists that we should be “rich in what matters to God.” And what matters most to God? Simple: our relationships with God and neighbor.

I would suggest to you that Daphrose Rugamba’s heroic and holy life can serve as a paradigm (or pattern) of how to be “rich in what matters to God” in three ways. First, Daphrose prioritized her family. In what ways can you enhance your family relationships? Some families attend Sunday Mass together and go out for breakfast or gather at their home.

Jeff and Norma Meares prepare breakfast for their kids and grands after the 7:30 a.m. Mass. The grandkids love breakfast at Poppy’s. Perhaps there’s a strained or broken relationship with a family member that needs mending. Take a bite of humble pie and say, “I’m sorry.” Or far more difficult, say, “I forgive you,” instead of obstinately holding on to old hurts.

Second, as Daphrose loved different ethnic groups, are there races that are hard to relate to for you? And by the way, we may feel we love everyone equally while we also harbor a spirit of superiority over them. How so? It’s a good thing to feel national pride as Americans but do we also sometimes believe that we are better than other countries and ethnicities?

As a child, I saw first-hand this subtle superiority in India. Growing up I could tell it was more desirable to be light-skinned than dark-skinned. Can you guess why? India had been ruled by the British for virtually 200 years. And like in the Stockholm syndrome, we Indians began to copy our British captors. We felt being light-skinned like them was better than being dark-skinned like us. Now though we get our revenge as all the white people go to the beach every summer to look like us brown people. Ha!

And third, as Daphrose emphasized her relationship with God, so we should find ways to strengthen our love for the Lord. That is, do things for Jesus because you want to not bcause you have to. For example, attend a weekday Mass, pray the rosary, listen to Catholic podcasts while driving, fast from all social media on Fridays.

By the way, thank you all for responding so generously to Fr. Samy’s mission appeal for his diocese back in May. Bishop Prakasam wrote a heart-felt letter of gratitude, saying: “The generous contributions of I.C. Church will help us educate poor children, evangelize illiterate people in rural villages, and care for leper patients.” That collection was our faith in action, where we gave because we wanted to, not because we had to.

My friends, we may not be called to a martyr’s death like Daphrose Rugamba, who died covered in consecrated Hosts. Nonetheless, we can imitate her virtues, by prioritizing relationships over riches. When our relationships with family, with others who are different, and with God are robust and revitalizing, we become truly “rich in what matters to God.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!