God's Hand

Being grateful for God’s hand in our lives

Luke 17:11-19

           As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem, he traveled through Samaria and Galilee. As he was entering a village, ten persons with leprosy met him. They stood at a distance from him and raised their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!” And when he saw them, he said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” As they were going they were cleansed.  And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.  He was a Samaritan. Jesus said in reply, “Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine?  Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?”  Then he said to him, “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you.”

            Do you remember the assassination attempt of Pope St. John Paul II in 1981?  He was greeting pilgrims in an open-air popemobile, when Mehmet Ali Agca fired from close range, hitting the pope 4 times.  One of the bullets came very close to the pope’s heart, but missed.  That assassination attempt occurred on May 13, the feast of Our Lady of Fatima, and the pope always held that Mary’s hand had moved the bullet away from his heart and vital organs.  One skeptical reporter asked, “Why didn’t Mary’s hand move the bullet away from the pope’s whole body!?”  Great question!  You see, the pope saw more than Mary’s hand at work, he also perceived God’s hand.  That hidden divine hand was pointing to Ali Agca, whom the pope visited in prison and personally forgave.  The pope also wrote to Agca’s mother and brother.  In February, 2005, as the pope was dying, Agca wrote to the pope to wish him well.  I bet both the pope and the would-be assassin were grateful for their meeting: how Mary’s hand saved the pope’s life, but also how God’s hand had brought them together.  It is said that “God writes straight with crooked lines.”  That’s true even when those crooked lines are the path of a bullet.

            In the gospel today, we see another man who perceives God’s hand in his life.  Jesus meets 10 lepers who all cry, “Jesus, Master!  Have pity on us!”  He directs them to go show themselves to the priests, and they are all healed.  Sadly, only one man returns to tell Jesus thanks.  But I think the man was grateful for more than the healing; he was grateful to meet Jesus, and maybe even saw that leprosy was the occasion for that meeting.  In other words, he saw not only Jesus hand of healing, but he perceived God’s hand guiding his whole life to this encounter with Christ.  I be the other 9 – like the cynical reporter – walked away from Jesus muttering, “Well, why didn’t God just keep us from getting leprosy in the first place?!”  You see, it takes faith to see God’s hidden hand in your life.

            I recently came across some Thanksgiving Day riddles.  See if you can answer them.  If April showers bring May flowers, what do May flowers bring?  The answer: they bring pilgrims!  What do you call it when it rains turkeys?  That’s called “foul weather” – even weatherman, Joe Pennington knew that one!  What do you get if you divide the circumference of a pumpkin by its diameter?  You get pumpkin pi – spelled “pi.”  What’s the most musical part of a turkey?  It’s the drumstick!  Okay, last one: what happened when the turkey got into a fight?  He got the stuffing knocked out of him!  I share these riddles not only because they’re funny, but also because they train our mind’s eye to see below the surface of things; to see beyond the obvious.  That’s what faith does, too: it helps us see below the surface of our lives and get a glimpse of God’s loving hand.

            Today we have so much to be grateful for, as individuals, as a nation, and as a church.  We have decent healt, at least to make it to Mass.  We have a modicum of wealth, at least more than most of the world.  We have freedom to express our opinions and to worship as our conscience dictates.  It’s easy to see Jesus’ and Mary’s hands helping us receive these blessings, and we should be grateful.  But today also try to see below the surface of your life to perceive God’s hidden hand, even in the sad and tragic moments: the lost job, the broken relationship, the sudden illness, when you have the stuffing knocked out of you!  These things, too, are a part of providence, and for which we should give thanks.  The one leper who returned to give thanks not only was grateful to be cured of leprosy; he was also grateful the leprosy helped him to meet Jesus.  Today, say “thank you” for all the things – the good and the bad – that have helped you to meet Jesus.

            Praised be Jesus Christ!

Seasons of our Life

Learning to long for the harvest season

Revelation 14:14-16

I, John, looked and there was a white cloud, and sitting on the cloud one who looked like a son of man, with a gold crown on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand. Another angel came out of the temple, crying out in a loud voice to the one sitting on the cloud, “Use your sickle and reap the harvest, for the time to reap has come, because the earth’s harvest is fully ripe.” So the one who was sitting on the cloud swung his sickle over the earth, and the earth was harvested.

             Yesterday a friend asked me, “What is your favorite time of year?”  She went on to explain that fall was her favorite time because of the colorful leaves and the changing of the season.  Other people love spring or maybe summer, and some even love winter.  I agreed that fall was nice, but what I really wanted to answer was: “My favorite season is football season!”  And my favorite month is November, when we enjoy not only college and professional football but the start of basketball season and NFL hockey season!  Is this heaven?  Then there are also “liturgical seasons” in the Church calendar, like Advent (which begins Sunday) and Christmas, or Lent and Easter.  Each season has its unique purpose and pleasure, and we all look forward to our own favorite season.

             In the first reading we see what the angels would answer if my friend had asked them, “What is your favorite season?”  They would answer in one chorus: “Our favorite time is the harvest season!”  In Revelation 14, John sees 3 angels wielding sharp sickles and they shout to each other: “Use your sickle and reap the harvest, for the time to reap has come, because the earth’s harvest is fully ripe.”  The harvest season is, of course, the end of time, when all other seasons will come to an end, even football season!  You see, that’s the season all the angels long for, and that season, too, has its own particular purpose and pleasure.  John’s point in Rev. 14 is that we, too, should adopt the attitude of the angels and learn to love the harvest season, to see its purpose and to desire its pleasure.

            Do you know the one thing that holds us back from loving the harvest season like the angels do?  It’s this “little thing” called death; it’s anything but “little.”  In Shakespeare’s play, Hamlet said that contemplating death makes cowards of us all; death overwhelms us.  As much as we may love the fall season, we know that’s also the season when nature herself seems to die, and we shudder at the thought like we shudder at the cold November wind.  Here’s a little poem that may help us not to be overwhelmed by death, and help us start to look forward to the harvest season like the angels do.  It’s called “Death, be not proud” by John Donne.  Here are a few lines:

            “Death be not proud, though some have called thee

            Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,

            For, those, whom thou thinkst thou dost overthrow,

            Die not, poor death, nor canst thou kill me.”

Then, Donne concludes:

            One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

            And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.”

            And that’s why the angels rejoice at the “harvest season,” not because it means our death, but because it means that is when death itself shall die.  And, who knows, that may be even better than football season.

            Praised be Jesus Christ!

Cry Like A Man

Weeping as we behold the Holy

 Revelation 5:1-5

             I, John, saw a scroll in the right hand of the one who sat on the throne. It had writing on both sides and was sealed with seven seals. Then I saw a mighty angel who proclaimed in a loud voice, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?” But no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll or to examine it. I shed many tears because no one was found worthy to open the scroll or to examine it. One of the elders said to me, “Do not weep. The lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has triumphed, enabling him to open the scroll with its seven seals.”

  

            Have you ever heard the old expression, “Grown men don’t cry”?  Or as Tom Hanks said in the movie, “A League of Their Own,” where he was manager of a women’s baseball team, “There’s no crying in baseball!”  Real men play baseball and they obviously don’t cry.  There’s probably been a moment or two when you’ve tried to hold back the tears believing that is being strong and somehow that’s more helpful to others.  The person who shattered this saying for me was my first pastor, Msgr. Gaston Hebert.  I have a lot of respect and admiration for Msgr. Hebert, and I consider him a man’s man.  But I noticed that whenever we celebrated First Holy Communion Masses, and all those boys in suits and ties and girls in veils paraded down the center aisle, Msgr. Hebert had tears running down his face.  At that moment Msgr. Hebert taught me how to cry like a man.  In other words, Hebert showed me that tears are not a sign of unmanliness, but rather a sign of true manhood, a sign of Christian manhood.

            The first reading today shows us another Christian man who was wont to cry, namely, St. John the Evangelist.  He sees a heavenly scroll closed up with seven seals that no one can open or read, and he cries like a man.  John explains why he cried, “I shed many tears because no one was found worthy to open the scroll or to examine it.”  But Jesus comes to answer John’s prayers and to wipe away his tears.  You see, both St. John and Msgr. Hebert knew how to cry because they both beheld something holy, the presence of God in innocent children, in a divine scroll.  Tears are not a sign of unmanliness; they are a sign of real manhood, a man who can see God.

            Today, let me invite you to open your hearts to the holy and to behold God’s beauty, and to open your tear ducts, too!  Now, I’m not talking about those “crocodile tears” that small children cry to manipulate mom and dad.  Instead, I’m talking about not holding back your tears when you behold the birth of a baby, when you see a bride takes her first steps down the aisle on her wedding day, as you hold your mother’s hand as she takes her last breath, as you gaze at the priest raising the white Host and golden chalice at the Consecration of the Mass.  Let the tears flow and cry like a man.

            Rudolf Otto wrote a famous book in 1917 called, “The Idea of the Holy.”  He said the “holy” (or God) is at the same time both terrifying and fascinating; we are afraid but also irresistibly drawn to it.  He wrote, “[The holy] presents itself as wholly other…where by the human being finds himself utterly abashed.”  That holiness, that presence of God, is what made Msgr. Hebert cry and that’s what made St. John cry.  And if that doesn’t make you cry, you’re not much of a man.

            Praised be Jesus

Christ!

Walking Tall

Healing our inner illnesses

Luke 19: 5-10

          When he reached the place, Jesus looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.” And he came down quickly and received him with joy. When they saw this, they began to grumble, saying, “He has gone to stay at the house of a sinner.” But Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone I shall repay it four times over.” And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house because this man too is a descendant of Abraham. For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.”

            My first pastor, Msgr. Gaston Hebert, taught me about the phenomenon called “psychosomatic illnesses.”  You see, our bodies and spirits are wired together so closely that what affects one is often manifest in the other.  Classical literature is replete with examples.  In Shakespeare’s play, “King Lear,” Gloucester loses his physical sight as a sign of his inner blindness and his inability to discern which of his sons is good (Edgar) and which one is corrupt (Edmund).  In Dostoyevsky’s novel, “Crime and Punishment,” Raskolnikov falls physically ill because he refuses to confess to the murder of his landlady.  Our principal, Sharon Blentlinger, explained that the first week of school many children mysteriously suffer from headaches and stomach aches not because of any physical malady but because they are “sick” of being in school.  A little psychosomatic illness can come in very handy!  You see, the spiritual world manifests itself in the physical world because they are so closely connected.

            In the gospel today, St. Luke describes a man suffering from a psychosomatic disorder.  Zacchaeus is short in stature but I believe that physical limitation is a manifestation of a spiritual limitation, namely, cheating people as a tax-collector.  However, when Jesus arrives in Zacchaeus’ home, he heals his inner, moral malady.  As a result, Zacchaeus says, “Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone, I shall repay it four times over.”  Jesus replies, “Today, salvation has come to this house.”  In other words, Jesus healed Zacchaeus’ spiritual limitation, and I bet Zacchaeus was "walking tall" afterwards.  Now, of course, this does not mean all short people are corrupt tax-collectors!  But psychosomatic illnesses require more than Tylenol and Aspirin; they also need a good dose of spiritual medicine.

            Let me ask you today: how are you feeling?  Do you have a tummy ache or a headache?  Are you suffering from blurry vision?  Do you have trouble remembering things?  Does your back hurt and cause you to walk with a stoop?  Do you feel terrible and don’t know why?  Well, what are you waiting for, go see a doctor!  But also keep in mind the possibility of a psychosomatic illness.  Your body might be telling you something: not only where it hurts physically but also where it hurts spiritually and morally.  And then go see the Divine Doctor, Jesus, so he can heal you inside as well.  Make a good confession and find some innner healing and peace.  You see, a little psychosomatic illness can come in very handy sometimes.

            Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Fourth Gambler

Taking risks in the Christian life

 Matthew 25:14-30

Jesus told his disciples this parable: "A man going on a journey called in his servants and entrusted his possessions to them. To one he gave five talents; to another, two; to a third, one-- to each according to his ability. Then he went away. Immediately the one who received five talents went and traded with them, and made another five. Likewise, the one who received two made another two.  But the man who received one went off and dug a hole in the ground and buried his master's money.

            You all know that I love to go over to parishioners’ homes for supper.  But what you may not know is that after supper I love to teach the children how to play poker.  Yep, poker.  Now, I realize that saying this is either going to drastically reduce my dinner invitations or maybe really increase them a lot, because you’d like to learn, too!  It’s amazing how quickly the children learn the game; a brief review of the rules, the ranking of the hands, and the dynamics of betting and bluffing.  Now, some children are natural risk-takers: they love to “bluff,” pretending to have a bigger hand than they really do.  They confidently say, “I’m all in,” and push all their Cheetos or marshmellows into the middle of the table because that’s what we bet with.  Other kids, however, are very conservative and don’t want to lose, so they fold quickly because they have a weak hand.  At some point in the evening, I always feel like singing that Kenny Rogers song, “The Gambler,” “You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, and know when to run.  You never count your money, when you’re sittin’ at the table, there’ll be time enough for countin’ when the dealin’s done.”  Of course, poker is just a game but I hope it also teaches a valuable life-lesson: sometimes in life you have to take a risk, you can’t always play it safe all the time; you have to “gamble.”  In each person’s life, there comes a moment when you have to say, “I’m all in” and push all your Cheetos into the middle of the table, and risk it all.

            In the gospel today, Jesus tells the very familiar parable of a master who gives his servants different “talents.”  One receives 5, another 2 talents, and the third only gets 1.  You can almost imagine the master as “the dealer” of a poker game, and each of the servants gets a “hand” to play, some hands are better than others.  That’s the way life is. Two servants are willing to “gamble” and they double their winnings, while the third servant, who holds a weak hand, buries it, he basically “folds.”  The point of the parable is unmistakable: our talents are given to us to be multiplied, even put at risk, but definitely not to bury and not to fold.

            But did you notice there is another gambler in the parable?  Most people miss him.  The fourth gambler is the master himself!  The master is also “gambling,” not with talents, but with his servants.  He’s taking a risk that they will do well with his talents, he’s betting on them to make good with the talents. You see, the master has a lot to lose as well and he puts himself at risk.  We all know, of course, that the master of the parable is God.  I hope this will not sound too irreverent, but I believe God is like a shrewd gambler.  He has gone “all in” by sending his Son to save us, and then, he entrusts us –you and me – with his gifts and graces, his “talents.”  God is betting on us, like that master was betting on his servants.

            I often wonder why God called me to be a priest and now pastor of Immaculate Conception Church.  He took a big risk gambling on me!  He could have called someone smarter or someone younger or someone holier or someone better-looking – well, not better-looking.  Let’s be honest.  But God took a huge risk, a gamble, in inviting me and other weak, fallible and foolish men to be priests and to run his Church.  But you see, God is betting on us; he has gone “all in” with us.  But you know, we priests are gambling, too.  We’ve gone “all in” by giving up marriage and family, and possible fame and fortune to serve the Church.  Man, I sure hope this bet pays off, and bring us happiness!

But do you know who I think makes an even bigger bet?  It’s people who choose to marry.  They are basically gambling with their heart.  They have said, “I’m all in,” and pushed their heart into the middle of the table, and they are betting their spouse will love, cherish and respect that heart.  But it’s a huge risk, isn’t it?  Just ask anyone who has gotten a divorce.  The great Victorian poet, Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote these memorable lines: “I hold it true, whate’er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most; ‘Tis better to have loved and lost. Than never to have loved at all” (“In Memoriam A.H.H.” Canto 27).  In other words, it’s better to take the risk of loving someone, marrying them, and possibly losing everything, than to fold and never take the chance, “than never to have loved at all.”

            You know, sooner or later in the Christian life, you have to take a risk; you have to put all your Cheetos into the middle of the table and say, “I’m going all in.”  We take great risks and gamble when we choose a vocation like priesthood or marriage; we gamble with our happiness and with our hearts.  We go “all in” when we decide which college to attend or what career to pursue; it may all “go south” and we fail miserably.  We gamble when we have another baby, hoping everything turns out well, like Catholics who used to have 6, 7, 8, and 9 kids.  Catholics were great gamblers back in the day!  We take risks when we move to another town and start life all over again.  I’m still in awe at my parents who moved not to another town but to another country – talk about a gutsy gamble!  We take a huge risk when we invite the priest over for supper and have no idea what he might teach our children after dinner!  But remember this: not only are you betting on God, that he will give you the grace you need, but God is also betting on you, not to bury your talents and abilities, not to fold.  Don’t forget about the Fourth Gambler in the parable.

            The 17th century French philosopher, Blaise Pascal saw the whole Christian enterprise in terms of a great gamble, what he called “the wager” (Pensee, 233).  Basically he said, it’s good to bet on God.  Sometimes in the Christian life, you have to say “I’m all in” and push all your Cheetos into the middle of the table and bet it all.  Why?  Because God is betting on you.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Opposites Attract

Appreciating what is different

 Luke 17:33-37

Jesus said to his disciples: “Whoever seeks to preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses it will save it. I tell you, on that night there will be two people in one bed; one will be taken, the other left. And there will be two women grinding meal together; one will be taken, the other left.”  They said to him in reply, “Where, Lord?” He said to them, “Where the body is, there also the vultures will gather.”

            Boys and girls, have you ever heard the phrase, “opposites attract”?  What does that mean?  Well, it means that things that are very different –even the opposite of each other—go very well together.  The world is a more fun and exciting place because people are different and not all the same.  Now we’re going to play a little game.  I’ll say a word and you tell me its opposite.  Ready?  “White.”  The opposite is “black.”  That was too easy.  How about “peanut butter”?  The opposite is “jelly.”  Here’s a hard one, “hands.”  The opposite is “feet.”  Here’s a really easy one, “Arkansas Razorbacks.”  The opposite is “LSU Tigers.”  You see, life is more fun and exciting when you have opposites: white and black, hands and feet, peanut butter and jelly, the Razorbacks and the Tigers.

          In the gospel today, we see Jesus also likes opposites.  He says: “He who seeks to preserve his life will lose it, and he who loses his life will save it.”  What are the two opposites that Jesus puts together?  To save and to lose.  It’s funny, isn’t it?  Jesus sees that “saving” and “losing” are two opposites that go good together for Christians.  When we lose something, we actually save it.  When we make sacrifices for others (lose something) we will gain a lot more in return (save something).  I gave up my own family and kids by not being married to be a priest, but now I have over 300 kids in our school!  I gained a lot more than I lost.  The two opposites: “loss” and “gain” go good together and make life more fun and exciting.

           Boys and girls, sometimes we want the world to be all the same: everyone should look the same, everyone should dress the same, everyone should think the same.  We think that the best friends are those who think and dress and act just like we do.  But that would make life very boring.  Instead, look for ways that opposites attract and make life more fun and exciting.  Today, try to find more opposites that attract, especially Christian opposites; opposites that Jesus would put together.  Here are a few more opposites for you: boys and…girls, Summer and…Winter, Cowboys and…Steelers, democrats and…republicans, wining and…losing.  I think we’ve lost enough football games now, so now it’s time to enjoy the opposites: winning, especially against LSU on Saturday!

Praised be Jesus C

hrist!

Somebody's Daughter

Seeing others as brothers and sisters

Philemon 10-16

 I urge you on behalf of my child Onesimus, whose father I have become in my imprisonment, who was once useless to you but is now useful to both you and me. I am sending him, that is, my own heart, back to you. I should have liked to retain him for myself, so that he might serve me on your behalf in my imprisonment for the Gospel, but I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that the good you do might not be forced but voluntary. Perhaps this is why he was away from you for a while, that you might have him back forever, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a brother, beloved especially to me, but even more so to you, as a man and in the Lord.

             In the seminary my spiritual director gave me some great advice on how to deal with especially attractive women.  Since priests are required to be celibate, we have to learn how to guard our celibacy and not fall in love with every beautiful woman we meet.  Here’s what he said: “If the beautiful woman is older than you, think of her as your mother.  If the attractive woman is around your same age, look at her at your sister.  If the gorgeous girl is younger than you, treat her as your own daughter.”  And I have to say, his advice has come in very handy.  We have ladies in the parish now cooking meals for us priests and the next step will be to have them do our laundry too!  Thanks mom!  But seriously, when we see other people, especially women, as members of our own family, we not only see THEM in a new light, but we begin to see OURSELVES differently. What do I mean?  When I see these beautiful women as mother and sister and daughter, I begin to see myself as “son” and “brother” and “dad” to them.  And that helps me to know how to behave toward them and treat them as I should.  You see, my spiritual director wasn’t just telling me how to look at attractive women, he was teaching me how to look at myself.

            St. Paul is fulfilling the role of a good spiritual director in his letter to Philemon.  Even though the letter is very brief, Paul gives some great advice, namely, how to look at other people.  Philemon had a slave named Onesimus who had spent time with Paul and become a Christian.  Now, Paul is sending Onesimus back to Philemon, but with a little advice.  He says: “I send Onesimus back to you no longer as a slave but as a brother in the Lord.”  In other words, Paul urged Philemon, like my spiritual director urged me, to see Onesimus in a new light, not as a slave but as a brother.  But St. Paul was also subtly suggesting to Philemon to see himself differently: not as a master but as a brother.  You see, Paul wasn’t just teaching Philemon how to look at Onesimus, he was also telling Philemon how to look at Philemon.

             How do you treat other people?  Do you treat some people rudely and disrespectfully, like people who drive crazy in traffic or people in government offices who seem not to care?  Try to see them as your mother, your sister, your daughter.  Are there people with whom you’ve had a fight and find it hard to forgive?  Try to see them as your brother or sister.  (If it was your brother and sister you fought with, then you’re out of luck.)  Are there people you treat as objects of pleasure, like beautiful models in swimsuit advertisements or T.V. commercials?  Look at them as your mother, or sister, or daughter.  Like people sometimes remind us: “Hey, you know, that beautiful girl is somebody’s daughter.”  A good Christian would respond: "Yes, she's MY daughter."  When we train our eyes and our minds to see others in this new light, we also begin to see ourselves in a new light, as a brother or sister in the Lord.  And we act accordingly.

            Praised be Jesus Christ!