AI Apocalypse

 

Living on the edge of the eternity expecting Christ

11/25/2025

Luke 21:5-11 While some people were speaking about how the temple was adorned with costly stones and votive offerings, Jesus said, "All that you see here– the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down." Then they asked him, "Teacher, when will this happen? And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?" He answered, "See that you not be deceived, for many will come in my name, saying, 'I am he,' and 'The time has come.' Do not follow them! When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for such things must happen first, but it will not immediately be the end." Then he said to them, "Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be powerful earthquakes, famines, and plagues from place to place; and awesome sights and mighty signs will come from the sky."

In 1993 the rock band Aerosmith released one of their biggest hits called “Livin’ on the Edge.” Now, I love classic rock but that song is bizarre on many levels to say the least. And even though it makes me cringe, I mention it because it contains a kernel of truth, namely, there is a sense in which we must always be “livin’ on the edge.”

As the song suggests, sober and sane Christians should also be “livin’ on the edge” in the sense that the world could end at any time and Jesus return in glory. That is, no matter what activity we are engaged in – sleeping, eating Thanksgiving dinner, working, or even relaxing on vacation – we should be prayerfully vigilant that we are standing on the edge of the end of the world.

I am not recommending that we become anxious or paranoid but rather have a healthy sense that this world is not our final home. The liturgy and the Masses this week make us especially cognizant of “livin on the edge.” How so? Well, we are in the 34th week of Ordinary Time, the last week of the church calendar year. This week is liturgically “the edge” as we conclude the “Year of Luke”, and this coming Sunday commence with the “Year of Matthew.”

That is, we are standing chronologically on the edge about to move from Year C in the church calendar to Year A of the three-year cycle. And the readings from Daniel and Luke are apocalyptic in tone reminding us that all that we see, hear, touch, taste, or smell will come to an end. The Scriptures and sacraments sort of push us to the edge of all that exists and invite us to look over the edge and glimpse eternity.

In other words, the readings this week – if we are paying attention – are intended to cause a certain dizziness or vertigo. And this “edge of eternity” is where Christians are called to live at every moment; indeed to feel comfortable and at home there. I don’t know if Jesus would be a fan of Steven Tyler and Aerosmith, but he might agree that we are constantly “livin’ on the edge.”

He warns his disciples as they gazed admiringly at the massive Jerusalem Temple, which they thought would last forever: “All that you see here – the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.” Like the liturgy of the 34th week and the lyrics of Aerosmith, Jesus pushes his disciples toward the edge of eternity and invites them to live there in constant vigilance.

You know, I have been watching the rise of AI – artificial intelligence – with both fascination and foreboding. I am sure you have too. For example, I am fascinated by AI and yesterday I used it to create a picture of me shooting pool with my old friend, Fr. Trung Nguyen to pose on Facebook with my homily. And I also used it to compose a letter for our upcoming new pictorial directory. So we can put AI to many good uses.

On the other hand, I also feel some foreboding regarding AI because I recently heard it described as “the last invention”. Why? Well, because AI will be able to anticipate and even invent things that human intelligence and ingenuity will be too slow and sluggish to figure out.  And naturally, there is no shortage of movies or books fictionalizing how AI could take over the world and even destroy humanity which it may perceive as a threat.

But when I hear about how apocalyptic AI can end up being, I sort of yawn and think, “So what?” Now, some people, even Catholics, maybe react shocked, and say: “Fr. John, don’t you care about the rise of AI? This could spell the end of humanity?!” And my answer would be “Exactly. Didn’t you get the memo?” This edge of eternity is where Jesus calls us to live and even feel comfortable.

Indeed, we could apply Jesus’ words in the gospel to our modern world: “All that you see here – the days will come when there will not be a stone upon another stone.” My friends, do you know that we practice for the end of the world and the coming of Christ at every Mass? Sacramentally-speaking Jesus comes to earth in every Eucharist to reign as King.

And we should be prepared to receive him with clean hearts by going to confession and enthrone him in our hearts at Holy Communion. Every Mass is a dress rehearsal for the end of time and an invitation to be “livin’ on the edge.” And that should give us great peace, even in the face of an AI apocalypse.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Ball Close to Pocket

 

Cherishing the history and heritage of Vietnamese martyrs

11/24/2025

Matthew 10:17-22 Jesus said to his Apostles: “Beware of men, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you in their synagogues, and you will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans. When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say. You will be given at that moment what you are to say. For it will not be you who speak but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. Brother will hand over brother to death, and the father his child; children will rise up against parents and have them put to death. You will be hated by all because of my name, but whoever endures to the end will be saved.”

My first brush with the heroic faith and fortitude of Vietnamese Catholics came in seminary when I met Trung Nguyen. Like most Vietnamese men, Trung was somewhat short, had straight black hair, and a sly smile, like he knew something that you did not know.  And Trung taught me how to play pool or billiards.

Like a typical beginner, I liked to hit the cue ball really hard so if the solid or stripped ball landed in the pocket, it made an impressive bang. It rarely landed in the pocket and instead caromed off unpredictably. But Trung taught me: “Hit the cue ball softly and accurately and then even if you miss the shot, the solid or stripped ball would stay close to the pocket for your next shot.”

After seminary and ordination, Fr. Trung earned a degree in canon law, served as rectory of St. Mary’s Seminary in Houston, and is now pastor of Sacred Heart of Jesus Church in Manvel, Texas. Even though Fr. Trung plays pool with soft hands, his character has profound strength, with far greater power than the flashy pool shots I tried to make (and missed). And the same can be said of virtually all Vietnamese Catholics: they speak softly but have an unshakable faith and fortitude. They always leave the ball close to the pocket, meaning they always stay close to Christ.

Today we celebrate the feast of St. Andrew Dung-Lac and Companions, Vietnamese martyrs. I was still in seminary at the University of Dallas playing pool with Trung Nguyen when on June 19, 1988 Pope St. John Paul II canonized 117 Vietnamese martyrs at St. Peter’s Basilica. I still remember how moved Trung was during those days of the canonization. In fact, he wrote his history thesis for his bachelor of arts degree on the martyrdom of the 117 Vietnamese martyrs.

You see, Trung Nguyen was cut from the same cloth as these heroic martyrs for the faith. They were not flashy Christians but they were unshakable Christians. And no amount of torture, punishment, imprisonment, and executions could deflect them from their determination in following Jesus. Just like Trung kept the ball close to the pocket, so these Vietnamese martyrs stayed close to Christ.

Let me give you a sample of their strength. In the 18th century Dominican and Jesuit missionaries spread out across Vietnam to share the gospel of Jesus Christ. But the emperor of the Nguyen Dynasty felt the Catholic missionaries were a threat to the empire. To discourage conversions Christians were branded on the face with the words “ta dao” literally meaning “unorthodox religion.” And whole families and villages who had converted to Christianity were obliterated.

I did a quick internet search and discovered this: “In January of 1833 a new kingdom-wide edict was passed calling on Vietnamese subjects to reject the religion of Jesus and required suspected Catholics to demonstrate their renunciation by walking on a wooden cross.” By the way, if someone threatened you with torture, imprisonment, or execution, would you walk on the cross of Christ to save yourself? I don’t know about you, but I can barely give up coffee for Lent as a sacrifice for Jesus.

And many of the Vietnamese martyrs suffered betrayal by family and friends as Jesus foretold in the gospel today: "Brother will hand over brother to death, and the father his child; children will rise up against parents and have them put to death." For example, Fr. Ignatius Delgado was turned over to the authorities by local villagers and put in a cage for public display and mockery. He died of hunger and exhaustion while awaiting his execution.

And what about St. Andrew Dung Lac? He was born in 1795 and took the name “Andrew” at his baptism. He was ordained a Roman Catholic priest on March 15, 1823. He was executed by beheading during the reign of the Emperor Ming Mang. My friends, I am just giving you a glimpse of the heroic history and holy heritage of Vietnamese Catholics, like the Vietnamese sisters and parishioners who join us for morning Mass.

Their faith was not tested in the classroom, or courtroom, or in congress, but on the Cross and in martyrdom. And I could sense that invincible faith and fortitude even when I played Trung Nguyen in pool. And he always beat me because he kept the ball close to the pocket.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Apollo Stole My Heart

 

Turning our deep wounds into our great strengths

11/18/2025

Luke 19:1-10 At that time Jesus came to Jericho and intended to pass through the town. Now a man there named Zacchaeus, who was a chief tax collector and also a wealthy man, was seeking to see who Jesus was; but he could not see him because of the crowd, for he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree in order to see Jesus, who was about to pass that way. 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.”

Not a day goes by that someone doesn’t ask me about my dog, Apollo. They either want to express their sympathy about his death or inquire when I might adopt a new dog. And every time they do the pain of losing him and the sad circumstances surrounding his death all come flooding back and break my heart. I was at a personnel board meeting a few weeks ago and Apollo came up in conversation. Bishop Taylor captured my feelings perfectly, saying: “They steal your heart.”

But I have noticed a beautiful blessing in carrying this burden of Apollo’s suffering and death: I feel greater sympathy and compassion for other people’s suffering and loss. You have heard the old adage: “It takes one to know one,” meaning one’s own wounds create a closeness with others’ pains and problems. The great Swiss psychiatrist, Carl Jung, called this the phenomenon of “the wounded healer.”

That is, a psychoanalyst is compelled to treat patients because the psychoanalyst himself is wounded. By the way, I don’t if you have heard this statistic before, but 82% of applied psychology graduate students and faculty in the U.S. and Canda experienced mental health conditions at some point in their lives.

In other words, wounds are not necessarily a weakness but in fact a sign of strength and even a particular power of healing. That is, instead of ignoring people who ask about Apollo or burying my feelings, I try to keep that wound alive and fresh so I can help and heal others who suffer. Apollo may have stolen my heart, but he has given me a new heart, a wounded but more loving heart.

In the gospel today we hear about a man whose particular weakness becomes the occasion for his greatest blessing. Luke notes that Zacchaeus was “short in stature” so he climbs a sycamore tree to see Christ, who in turn spots him perched like a bird on a branch. And Jesus says glorious words of salvation: “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.”

Luke also notes importantly that Zacchaeus was the chief tax collector and a wealthy man. Now, why was that detail important? Well, I wonder if sometimes Zacchaeus saw his small size as a crutch and a cross. And perhaps he suffered from the Napoleon Complex: how short people feel inferior and so need to dominate others in order to assert their superiority.

But Jesus tells him to “come down” and stop pretending to be great perched on a tree, and helps him not run from his special wound and weakness – his diminutive size – but to embrace it. Why? So he could feel closer to others who suffer. Perhaps Zacchaeus felt like a wounded healer when he said: “Behold, half my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor.” In other words, don’t bury this burden of your shortness but embrace it as a source of deep compassion for others who suffer. Why? Because “it takes one to know one.”

My friends, sooner or later we all suffer some kind of wound or weakness: the death of a beloved dog, the loss of a family or friend, perhaps a divorce and failed marriage, or the loss of a job, maybe you move to another city or state and lose your community. You may be afflicted with some debilitating disease. And eventually old age catches up with all of us and we lose our physical strength and our mental acuity. And you may react like I did with Apollo’s death: ignore it, bury it, and forget about it. We don’t want anyone to steal our hearts again.

But perhaps the point of life is not simply to protect ourselves from pain. Instead, maybe that pain of loss and grief will teach us a deeper kind of love and compassion for others who hurt? In other words, maybe our hearts were made to be stolen – like Apollo stole my heart – so that our old hearts can be replaced with new hearts, better hearts, more tender and caring hearts.

Every morning when Apollo was alive we had a specific route that we walked around the rectory, school, and church. I prayed my rosary, and Apollo sniffed around for the perfect place to poop. We both dutifully did our respective morning chores. Now, every morning I still walk that same specific route but now I smile at the cats who are no longer afraid of me. Did you see what happened? Apollo stole my heart and took it to heaven, and left me a better heart to love those who suffer, even stray cats.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

No Kings Reloaded

 

Appreciating how humans inevitably serve someone

11/23/2025

Luke 23:35-43 The rulers sneered at Jesus and said, "He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God." Even the soldiers jeered at him. As they approached to offer him wine they called out, "If you are King of the Jews, save yourself." Above him there was an inscription that read, "This is the King of the Jews." Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us." The other, however, rebuking him, said in reply, "Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation? And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." He replied to him, "Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise."

A couple of weeks ago I preached a homily called “No Kings Marches.” Did you happen to hear it in person at Mass, or perhaps read it on Facebook? In that homily I argued that while democracy is wonderful for societies and civil government, it clashes with Christianity and Church government. Why?

Well, because in the Church we find not a democracy but a hierarchy – deacon, priest, bishop, pope – and at the top of this ladder of authority we find Jesus Christ, the King of Kings. But after I preached and published that homily, I got a lot of push back from people who felt I was misguided, and I was misguiding other people.

Well, folks, guess what feast we celebrate today? It is none other than “Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe”! I hope there are no protesters outside this Sunday walking along Garrison Avenue in a “No Kings March” upset about today’s feast of our King. So I want to take another stab at explaining why hierarchy fits our faith better than democracy does.

All three scriptures today speak loudly about kings and kingdoms. In 2 Sam 5:3, we read: “The elders of Israel came to David…and they anointed him king of Israel.” St. Paul writes to the Colossians in the second reading: “[God] delivered us from the power of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son.”

And in the gospel, the good Thief acknowledges Jesus as King, and humbly requests: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” In other words, when we have a robust understanding of kings and kingdoms – when our social paradigm is a hierarchy – the Bible comes alive. But if we approach the Scriptures with the social construct of a democracy, it remains largely a closed book.

Another advantage of thinking hierarchically instead of democratically is we begin to perceive how we all serve someone. That is, we will either serve Jesus as King, or we will serve some other king. And, by the way, no one knows this servant paradigm (or hierarchical model) better members who belong to Alcoholics Anonymous.

AA’s first two Steps are very telling: “(1) we admitted to we were powerless over alcohol,” meaning they became servants to alcohol. And “(2) We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” That is, they choose to be servants to the Almighty instead of alcohol. Recovering alcoholics are the happiest people you ever meet because they have discovered the joy of being servants of a good King.

We can see another common example of serving a king when a boy falls in love with a girl. How so? Well, the boy does the will of his new queen instead of what he wants. Heck, he will even go to church and Mass with her just to make his queen happy. And after they get married and have children, they both become servants of their tiny new masters.

Mom and dad serve their children gladly and lovingly by losing sleep, working two jobs, sacrificing their own pleasures and pursuits to put their kids first. And when they have grandchildren, they become indentured servants. Some even move to Northwest Arkansas and make the supreme sacrifice of not coming Mass at I.C. in Fort Smith. Seriously?

Why do parents make all of these sacrifices for their children and grandchildren? Simple: they have discovered one of the greatest truths of being human, the same truth the good Thief discovered hanging on the Cross, namely, to be human is to be hierarchical. We all serve someone. The only question is “Who do you serve?”

One of the most iconic scenes in the Old Testament is the moment when Joshua leads the Israelites into the Promised Land and makes a covenant between them and God. Many Christians proudly display Joshua 24:15 in their homes to remember that ancient covenant and acknowledge that hierarchy fits our faith better than democracy does. How so?

Well, because the only way to enter a covenant with God is to accept him as a King and to serve him. You see, God and man are not two equals who enter into a social contract in some sort of democratic arrangement where we vote on what we want and veto what we don’t want. Rather, we are sinners in need of a King to save us from slavery to other masters.

Listen to Joshua 24:15 in full: “If it is displeasing to you to serve the Lord, choose today whom you will serve, the gods your ancestors served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose country you are dwelling.” And then comes the money verse which everyone knows by heart: “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

In other words, choosing a king and serving him in his kingdom is the inescapable, hierarchical human condition. Why? Because we all serve someone – heck, even those walking in No Kings Marches serve someone, their kids and grandkids. The only question is “Who do you serve?”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Arrows in His Quiver

 

Welcoming Deacon Quinton Thomas to I.C. Church

11/17/2025

Luke 18:35-43 As Jesus approached Jericho a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging, and hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what was happening. They told him, "Jesus of Nazareth is passing by." He shouted, "Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!" The people walking in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent, but he kept calling out all the more, "Son of David, have pity on me!" Then Jesus stopped and ordered that he be brought to him; and when he came near, Jesus asked him, "What do you want me to do for you?" He replied, "Lord, please let me see." Jesus told him, "Have sight; your faith has saved you." He immediately received his sight and followed him, giving glory to God. When they saw this, all the people gave praise to God.

In my homily this past Sunday I mentioned one of our seminarians named Joshua Osborne. Today I want to mention another seminarian, namely, Deacon Quinton Thomas. A couple of weeks ago, Bishop Anthony Taylor announced that Deacon Thomas would be assigned to our parish for his final phase of formation, called “Vocational Synthesis.”

That is, for his final six months as a seminarian he will live at the rectory and participate in the life of Immaculate Conception Church as a deacon, and "synthesize" his vocation as a priest. And I must admit I am very happy to have Deacon Thomas here next Spring. He will be here from January 2 till June 30, when he will be assigned as an associate pastor to some fortunate Arkansas parish.

We are his last stop before priestly ordination. So, if you have ever wondered in frustration: “Why don’t they teach priests certain things in the seminary?!”, well, here is your chance to have a hand in the training of a future priest. So, stop complaining. One arrow in Quinton’s rather full quiver of talents is his gift and penchant for languages.

In an interview with the Arkansas Catholic, he said: “I would say that my Spanish and French are proficient. We just got to go to Italy, so that was my first time to actually try Italian, to try really using it….I can get by in Italian pretty decently well.” So, Quinton has already mastered four languages: English, Spanish, French, and Italian.

But it gets better, Quinton continued: “I was at St. Patrick Church in North Little Rock…and a friend paid for Vietnamese lessons for me. I took a semester of Vietnamese through an online school in Saigon. And then I do classical languages – my Latin and Hebrew are OK.” I wish my Latin and Hebrew were “OK”. In other words, Deacon Quinton will be a priestly polyglot: someone who knows and uses several languages.

Quinton was born and raised in Jonesboro, Arkansas at Blessed Sacrament Church. Quinton has wanted to be a priest as long as he can remember. He wrote in an article on his vocation: “Asking why I wanted to be a priest would probably have been just as nonsensical a question as why I liked ice cream or the color red.” That is, diocesan priesthood is part of Quinton’s DNA.

And so he entered seminary right out of high school. That is another arrow in Quint’s quiver. How so? Well, in seminary we called such guys “lifers” because seminary and priesthood is all they have ever done in life. More men these days, however, are going into seminary after having lived a little, and seen what life is all about.

One benefit of being a lifer is that Quinton will be ordained at the age of 26 or 27, and be able to give his youth to the people he serves as a priest. How wonderful to have a young, energetic, intelligent priest to engage with young Catholics. I am a lifer, too, and was ordained at 26. For a long time as a pastor I was younger than most of my congregation. That is not the case anymore.

Yet another arrow in Quinton’s quiver is a joyful faith. He remembers his first Holy Communion with humor. He reminisced: “I remember from the steps of the altar back to my pew I felt an overwhelming and physical joy, an uncontrollable smile that I was embarrassed of because no one else seemed to be reacting that way. So I put my hand over my face so only God could see it.”

You might remember in Exodus 34:35 that Moses covered his face with a veil after speaking face to Face with God. That still happens today, 3,500 years later. In the gospel today we see another disciple with a joyful faith, like Dc. Quinton’s. A blind man is healed by Jesus. And how does he react? We read: “He immediately received his sight and followed him, giving glory to God.”

The blind man, however, did not cover his face with his hands but let everyone see his joyful faith. And how did the people react? Again we read: “When they saw all this, all the people gave praise to God.” In other words, joy is contagious. I suspect that is how I.C. parishioners will feel next Spring as we see the mighty works God in Dc. Quinton, and we witness his “uncontrollable smile.”

On a more practical note, Dc. Quinton will be able to preach homilies at Sunday and weekday Masses – you’ll get a break from me! – in both English and Spanish. As a deacon, he will preside at funerals and weddings outside Mass. He will be able to bless your homes and your rosaries and your cars and your cats.

I have no doubt he will be a delightful dinner guest. And you can practice your English, Spanish, French, Italian, Vietnamese, Latin and Hebrew when he comes over for dinner. And maybe he can even teach you some archery, because after all, Dc. Quinton has a lot of arrows in his quiver.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Mouths of Men and Machines

 

Choosing to follow Jesus and ignoring other voices

11/16/2025

Luke 21:5-19 While some people were speaking about how the temple was adorned with costly stones and votive offerings, Jesus said, "All that you see here-- the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down." Then they asked him, "Teacher, when will this happen? And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?" He answered, "See that you not be deceived, for many will come in my name, saying, 'I am he,' and 'The time has come.' Do not follow them! When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for such things must happen first, but it will not immediately be the end." Then he said to them, "Before all this happens, however, they will seize and persecute you, they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons, and they will have you led before kings and governors because of my name. It will lead to your giving testimony."

Sometimes people’s words can leave a deep impact on us, even if they are just joking. I will never forget how several years ago I bought a new Chevy Impala. I ran into Jeff Meares and wanted to show off my new car. He asked: “What are you a nun or something?” Have you noticed how monastery parking lots are full of Chevy Impalas? I never noticed that till he said it.

Another friend had a really rich response when I got inexpensive (cheap) new tires for my Nissan Rogue. She remarked: “Hey, awesome, you got girl tires. At Christmas I’ll buy you some real tires.” We like to think, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” And that is true for jokes.

But sometimes words can do far more damage, and then it is no joke. A few weeks ago one of our seminarians, Joshua Osborne, called to interview me for a discussion about polarization in society and in the church. How words are deeply dividing our country and our congregation. He asked how I handled hot-button topics like the Charlie Kirk assassination and the mass deportation of immigrants?

I admitted that it was indeed very hard to express the teachings of the Church accurately in today’s culture. Why? Well, because many people have already made up their minds as to their beliefs and don’t need me to teach them. They are either “conservatives” or “liberals”. They happily agree with some things I say, “Yay!” or angrily dismiss other things I say, “Boo!”

Joshua explained to me that today people tend to align themselves with “mega-groups”, that is, categories or labels that encompass one’s entire social identity and value system.” That is, the words of podcasters and politicians shape some Catholics' beliefs and behaviors more than the words of the Church.

This past week the United States bishops met in Baltimore. The out-going president, Archbishop Timothy Broglio, shared this comment: “In October I mentioned to Pope Leo XIV that some of our faithful listen more readily to sound bytes, the sirens of political discourse, or whatever confirms their conclusions and partisan leanings instead of hearing their pastors and us [bishops].” That is, the words of sound bytes do a lot of damage when they distort the true Christian faith.

In the gospel today, Jesus warns his followers whose words they should carefully avoid. He urges: “See that you not be deceived, for many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he,’ and ‘The time has come.’ Do not follow them.” You see, in every age words from conservatives or liberals, traditionalists or progressives try to usurp the place of Jesus and his Church. They pretend to be more important than what the gospel teaches.

I was visiting some very devout elderly Catholics recently. And after dinner we were watching TV. The elderly man suddenly remarked: “You know, President Trump doesn’t like Pope Leo. I don’t think he’s a very good pope either.” You see, the words of a mere man mean more to some Catholics than the words of the Vicar of Christ.

My friends, we live in the Information Age, the Age of Words. Anything we wish to know is immediately at our command through the words of Alexa or Siri or ChatGPT. We swim in an infinite sea of words and endless data that can in effect drown us so we no longer hear the imperative words of the gospel and the Church.

But even all the millions of words of men put together will not finally bring us the peace, joy, and truth we seek. Only the Word of God, Jesus Christ can do that. And that Word of God abides in the Scriptures and the sacraments faithfully proclaimed up and down the ages by the Church. In other words, the words of men can indeed harm us when they attempt to replace the Word of God.

Can I give you some very serious and rather hard homework today? When you go home, for an hour, turn off your television and radio; unplug your computer; switch off your phone (not just to vibrate mode either); remove your apple watch; take your air pods out of your ears; and unplug Alexa, Siri, or Gemini. For one solid uninterrupted hour shut the mouths of men and machines, and do not let them utter one word.

Then in that golden silence, open your Bible and turn to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and read the unfiltered Word of God. Only in the Word of God, Jesus Christ, will you find the peace, joy, truth and eternal life you are looking for. And then you may also discover the infinite difference between sound bytes and Scripture, and know which one you should follow.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

No Kings March

 

Seeing how Christianity is counter-cultural to democracy

11/11/2025

Luke 17:7-10 Jesus said to the Apostles: "Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here immediately and take your place at table'? Would he not rather say to him, 'Prepare something for me to eat. Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and drink when I am finished'? Is he grateful to that servant because he did what was commanded? So should it be with you. When you have done all you have been commanded, say, 'We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.'"

The Christian faith is deeply counter-cultural, and this contrast with contemporary culture has been highlighted by the recent No Kings Marches around the country. Now my purpose is not to score any political points but rather to make a theological one. Ever since the American Revolution of 1776, when we threw off the yoke of tyrannous King George III, Americans have championed democracy, or rule by the people.

We have fought wars in defense of democracy; we have supported economic policies in favor of democracy; and have helped overthrow despotic governments to promote democracy. And so the No Kings March follows in the same vein, regardless of whether you personally feel it is right or wrong-headed. Democracy is the irresistible cultural current in which we American fish swim.

But democracy is exactly the wrong lens through which to understand Christianity. A better lens is hierarchy, which flies in the face of the opening lines of the Declaration of Independence, “that all men are created equal.” I tried to explain this underlying hierarchy in creation to a Bible study group who called me from Florida with some questions about the angels.

I said that God created the cosmos with natural superiors and inferiors. At the top of the hierarchical ladder stands God, below him on the next rung are the angels, below the angels are humans, and below man are animals, and below them are plants, and finally at the bottom are the rocks and other inanimate matter. Inanimate literally means “without souls.”

The harmony, happiness, and holiness of the entire cosmos require every inferior to obey and submit to its natural superior. And that hierarchical harmony is precisely what the angels disrupted and tried to destroy when they rebelled against God, and fought their Revolutionary War.

Revelation 12 describes this angelic rebellion when Satan, the first fallen angel, swept a third of the stars – meaning 1/3 of the angels – from the sky. We might say Satan led the very first No Kings March to overthrow the reign of God as their king. Incidentally, you might enjoy reading C. S. Lewis’ book A Preface to Paradise Lost, and the chapter simply called “Hierarchy” if you want a deep dive into this topic of hierarchy versus democracy.

The reason I am going to all the trouble to explain the difference between democracy and hierarchy is not only because it makes Christianity hard to understand, but it makes the Bible opaque as well. For example, in today’s gospel Jesus speaks about masters and servants.

And those categories immediately sound like nails on a chalkboard to the ears of people who walk in a No Kings March, that is, to modern American saturated in democracy. Indeed, Jesus’ take-home message will sound utterly nonsensical, even offensive, to democratic Americans: “When you have done all you have been commanded say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do’.”

In other words, Jesus calls Christians to be like salmon and swim upstream against the modern democratic cultural current. As C. S. Lewis puts it: “The goodness, happiness, and dignity of every being consists in obeying its natural superior and ruling its natural inferior” (92). The Bible makes more sense the more we think hierarchically and the less we think democratically.

We find the same hierarchical principle operative in the Church and in the liturgy. The priesthood is ordered in a hierarchy of authority: deacons at the bottom, then priests, bishops, cardinals, and the pope at the top. The harmony of the Church depends on the inferior obeying the superior. Can you imagine the chaos that would be unleashed if the deacons organized a No Kings March in Rome protesting the prerogatives of the pope?

The movements of the liturgy, at Mass, all the kneeling, sitting, standing reflect the hierarchy of the human priest and the divine Priest, Jesus. That is why we genuflect on one knee when we come into church and enter our pew. That is why deacons bow before the priest and ask his blessing before reading the gospel. That is why altar servers are called “servers.” And they should leave Mass repeating what Jesus said in the gospel, “We have done what we were obliged to do.”

My friends, the moment we step out of our cars and into a Catholic church, we step into a very undemocratic world. The flood waters of modern democracy that have washed over the entire world ever since the American Revolution may splash against the doors of the Church, but do not dare to enter. And if you have been imbibing that cultural Kool-Aid, then when you walk into Mass, you will feel very much like a fish out of water.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Detachment from Doomscrolling

 

Understanding the 5th condition for a plenary indulgence

11/10/2025

Luke 17:1-6 Jesus said to his disciples, "Things that cause sin will inevitably occur, but woe to the one through whom they occur. It would be better for him if a millstone were put around his neck and he be thrown into the sea than for him to cause one of thes
e little ones to sin. Be on your guard! If your brother sins, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. And if he wrongs you seven times in one day and returns to you seven times saying, 'I am sorry,' you should forgive him." And the Apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith." The Lord replied, "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you."

Recently I had a lively discussion – actually it was more of a heated disagreement – with three brother priests over the meaning of one condition for a plenary indulgence.  Let me describe the debate and see whose side you would land on. Since I.C. is a Jubilee Church many “pilgrims of hope” have traveled from all parts of western Arkansas to obtain a plenary indulgence.

The four straight-forward conditions for a Jubilee indulgence are: (1) make a sincere confession, (2) receive Holy Communion in the state of grace, (3) pray for the intentions of the pope, and (4) visit a Jubilee church. Easy-peasy. But the discussion arose when I texted some priest-friends about the meaning of the fifth condition: total detachment from both mortal and venial sins.

My argument was that last condition constituted the hardest – almost impossible – of the 5 requirements. Why? Because a Christian should be entirely detached, that is, not even desire, to commit not only mortal sins, but also venial sins, like gossip, telling white lies, procrastinating, eating too much, or drinking to excess, or doomscrolling on social media, harboring grudges, lustful thoughts, etc.

I argued that seemed a very high bar for moral behavior. By the way, every Sunday morning about 9:30 a.m. my Iphone tells me I averaged around 4 hours and 29 minutes on my phone per day in the previous week. The average daily screen time for most Americans is 5 to 6 hours per day. How about you? We Americans do a lot of doomscrolling.

But one priest-friend insisted that the 5th condition was essentially the same as the intention everyone makes at the end of a confession, when they say: “I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin.” I countered his argument by saying: “But we already formulate that intention in going to confession as one of the four conditions, so why add an entirely distinct fifth condition?”

In other words, what is the difference between the penitent’s firm purpose of amendment in confession and total detachment from mortal and venial sins? If they are essentially the same, then there are really only 4 conditions for a plenary indulgence, and the 5th condition is superfluous. Now, who would you side with in that discussion?

In the gospel today, Jesus seems to weigh in on the discussion about the 5th condition for an indulgence, and adds “avoiding scandal” to the list of mortal and venial sins we must be detached from. Jesus states in no uncertain terms: “It would be better for [someone] if a millstone were put around his neck and he be thrown into the sea than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.”

Now, Jesus is not talking directly about the conditions for a plenary indulgence. Nonetheless, he is taking a very hardline stance on the seriousness of sin – especially causing scandal which causes others to sin – and the need to avoid it at all costs. In other words, Jesus would agree there is a need for a distinct fifth condition of total detachment from mortal and venial sin that is more than the simple “firm purpose of amendment” that we all make when we go to confession.

Think about it this way: you only have to do the minimum to receive the sacraments because we want everyone to receive them. But you have to do the maximum to receive a plenary indulgence because not everyone can easily receive them. Why? Well, because the sacraments are sufficient to get into Purgatory; whereas a plenary indulgence is sufficient to get into Paradise. You can be imperfect for Purgatory, but you have to be perfect for Paradise, which requires total detachment from doomscrolling and scandal.

Let me add a personal caveat for my argument for the fifth condition for a plenary indulgence. If I had created Christianity and written the rules and by-laws for this religion, I would let everyone into Paradise with no questions asked, and dispensed with Purgatory all together.

But when we are dealing with the rules and regulations of authentic Christianity – or “mere Christianity” as C. S. Lewis puts it – then we have to consult with the One who established it, namely, Jesus. And at least in my reading of Luke 17, our gospel this morning, Jesus seems to set the bar rather high for entry into heaven, indeed, the bar is perfection.

That is, we have to avoid sin ourselves, but also take great care not to cause others to sin. In other words, we are not just trying to get ourselves into heaven, but as many others along with us. Or, at least get them into Purgatory. Why? Because there will be total detachment from doomscrolling in Paradise.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Shredding Your Muscles

 

Understanding the bodybuilding of the resurrection

11/09/2025

John 2:13-22 Since the Passover of the Jews was near, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. He found in the temple area those who sold oxen, sheep, and doves, as well as the money-changers seated there. He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen, and spilled the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables, and to those who sold doves he said, "Take these out of here, and stop making my Father's house a marketplace." His disciples recalled the words of Scripture, Zeal for your house will consume me. At this the Jews answered and said to him, "What sign can you show us for doing this?" Jesus answered and said to them, "Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up." The Jews said, "This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and you will raise it up in three days?" But he was speaking about the temple of his Body. Therefore, when he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they came to believe the Scripture and the word Jesus had spoken.

Did you know I used to be into bodybuilding? I mean, just look at me. Now, I don’t mean building bulging muscles like Hans and Franz had on the old Saturday Night Live, who said: “We want to pump, you up!”  Rather, I built my muscles to run marathons. They were not for size and show but for stamina and speed. Back in my forties, I ran four marathons and one half marathon to raise money for Catholic schools. I even ran the True Grit here in Fort Smith.

Now, the irony of all good bodybuilding is that first you must tear down the muscle before you can build it up. One technique we used for tearing down muscles for marathons was hill sprints. You would sprint up a hill as fast as you could run and then slowly jog back down. And you repeated that several times until you finally threw up. Why?

Well, throwing up meant that you had pushed your body beyond the breaking point, the point where the muscles were truly torn down. Trainers call this “shredding your muscles.” In other words, only if you first tear down the body can you later build up the body so that it becomes better, stronger, faster.

In the gospel today Jesus applies this irony of bodybuilding – tearing down to build up – by comparing his sacred Body and to a sacred building, namely, the Jerusalem Temple. Jesus declares that the Temple is heading for destruction, but in three days he would build it back up. The Jews are confused, and so John in his gospel clarifies: “But [Jesus] was speaking about the temple of his body.”

That is, our Lord’s precious Body would be torn down (shredded) through the brutal scrouging, crowning with thorns, carrying the cross, crucifixion and death. Why? So that three days later it could be built up eternally strong and infinitely glorious. In other words, Jesus introduces a new kind of bodybuilding that Hans and Franz could never have imagined: the body is torn down in death but built up in the resurrection.

This weekend we celebrate the feast day of a building, namely, the Basilica of St. John Lateran. And the Church invites us to compare and contrast our bodies to church buildings like Jesus did in the gospel. How so? Well, first we can compare our bodies to churches because we go to great lengths to beautify both.

You know, it is impossible to calculate the time, talent and treasure it took to build and now to maintain this Gothic church of the Immaculate Conception. It is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful churches in Arkansas. Similarly, we should take great care of our bodies, not just physically, but especially sacramentally.

Have you noticed how we bathe the body in Baptism, we anoint the body in Confirmation, we place rings on the bodies of bride and groom in Holy Matrimony, we nourish the body with Jesus’ Body and Blood in the Eucharist, and we incense the body at a funeral. Folks, this is sacramental bodybuilding: beautifying our bodies like we beautify our churches because God dwells in both.

But we should also contrast our bodies to church buildings. Why? Because even though our bodies eventually crumble and fall (like buildings) they will not remain forever in the grave. I visit my parents in Springdale every Friday. And even though their bodies are aging, they are still living in their own home, taking care of themselves, and enjoying a very high quality of life.

My mom is a registered nurse and so she basically acts like Hans and Franz to my dad pushing him to exercise, saying, “I want to pump you up!” And my dad really loves that. That is, they are not running hill sprints anymore, but their heart muscles have been shredded by a life-time of loving God, and their neighbor and each other. But those muscles that have been torn down in love will be built up again in glory.

My friends, you may not be into bodybuilding like Hans and Franz and want bulging muscles. And you may never run a marathon for Catholic schools like I did. Nonetheless, your muscles and your entire body will one day be pushed beyond the breaking point, namely, the point at which you die. No one is getting out of here alive.

But here is the good news: people of faith know the great irony of all good bodybuilding: first you must tear down in order to build up. In other words, at the resurrection on the last day, Jesus will raise our bodies from the grave, and say to us in effect: “I want to pump you up!” And then he will give us an eternally glorious and infinitely beautiful body, that would make even Hans and Franz jealous.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Charlie Kirk Effect

 

Purifying our motivations for following Jesus

11/05/2025

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, everyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple."

I will never forget the day I put my faith above my family. I was a junior in high school and had decided to go into seminary to become a priest. I wanted to share my decision with my family and chose dinner time when everyone was together. It felt like dating someone and finally bringing the girl home to meet your family.

I was more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. That dinner took place almost 40 years ago but I still remember it like yesterday. I can still see where everyone sat at the table and how each person reacted to the news. My mom broke down in tears, my father stayed stoic and furrowed his brow in thought.

But my brother blurted out, “Oh, John, you’ll change your mind after a year in college.” You know, there were many hard days in seminary but I remembered my brother’s lack of confidence, and I stuck it out just to spite him. So, I can confidently say I am a priest today thanks to my brother.

Now, in the gospel today when Jesus says: “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” (Lk 14:26), he was not talking about how angrily I reacted to my brother’s comments at that fateful dinner.

Rather, our Lord’s larger point is about purifying our motives for following him. Obviously, Jesus has no desire to contradict the fourth commandment of the Decalogue (Ten Commandments): “Honor your father and mother.” I needed to purify my reasons to be a priest and not to stick it out in seminary just to spite my brother.

Let me give you some examples of needing to scrutinize and purify our reasons for following Jesus. We have seen an up-tick in people coming to Mass, and even joining the OCIA classes to become Catholic. Last night I celebrated the Rite of Welcome for Robert Cloninger, a Methodist minister who will become Catholic. This year may be our biggest OCIA class ever, and people are still joining the class.

I have seen many new faces at Mass on Sundays. Have you? Some people have commented that this influx is “the Charlie Kirk effect.” That is, many people, especially young men, inspired by Charlie Kirk’s example and eloquence are exploring Catholicism. Others argue that when our culture is growing more anti-Christian, it’s hard to embrace both worlds, and so people are choosing the Catholic faith in a more intentional and life-changing way.

Now, we always happily welcome people to Mass, and to join the OCIA classes and learn about Catholicism. But we caution them that they should not become Catholic because “everyone is doing it.” The faith cannot become a fad. You know what “fad” stands for? The three letters stand for “for a day.”

Or, as Archbishop Fulton Sheen memorably put it, “If you marry this age, you become a widow in the next.” Everyone interested in Catholicism today, therefore, needs to purify their motives and not pursue the faith just because it’s trendy or “going viral” as they say.

My friends, purifying our motives for following Jesus does not occur instantly or in one dramatic decision, but rather entails a life-long process of refinement, like purifying gold from all its impurities and alloys. I was ordained a priest at the age of 26 and I am now 56 – so next May will be my 30 anniversary of ordination.

And yet I am still daily discovering less than ideal motives in my heart: laziness, choosing the path of least resistance, job security, instant respect when I don the priestly collar, etc. Perhaps married couples must find new and more genuine reasons to stay married after 10, 20, 30 years of being together.

The booster rockets of initial love will burn off before you get into the deep space of marriage and children, wrinkles and retirement. In other words, we cannot follow Jesus as a Catholic, or choose the priesthood, or enter the covenant of marriage, as a fad (for a day), but must constantly purify our motivations.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Shoe on the Wrong Paw

 

Understanding the connection between Baptisms and funerals

11/02/2025

Romans 6:3-9 Brothers and sisters: Are you unaware that we who are baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that,  just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life. For if we have grown into union with him through a death like his, we shall also be united with him in the resurrection. We know that our old self was crucified with him, so that our sinful body might be done away with, that we might no longer be in slavery to sin. For a dead person has been absolved from sin. If, then, we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him. We know that Christ, raised from the dead, dies no more; death no longer has power over him.

Have you ever heard people say, “Catholics do funerals right”? That sounds pretty bizarre, so what does it mean? People who attend a funeral Mass often leave feeling more peace, closer to Christ, and a renewed hope in the resurrection and reunion with their deceased loved ones.

You see, it is the familiarity and routine of the Mass – all the smells and the bells – spiritually wrap around us like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. At a funeral Mass I inject a little color commentary about these smells and bells. I explain to the congregation: “We begin this funeral Mass with signs of baptism. We sprinkle the casket with holy water, we place a white pall (cloth) over it, and we lead it to the burning Easter Candle.

"All three of those symbols were present when you and I were baptized: we were immersed in water, we were clothed in white, and there was a candle there to symbolize Jesus, the light of the world.” Then I ask: “Why do we think about baptism on the day of a funeral? Because St. Paul taught the Romans in chapter 6 of his great letter that those who are baptized into Christ will rise with him.

"Those who experience a spiritual death with the Lord will also experience his resurrection. In other words, Baptism throws open the doors of Paradise for us.” If were to put it grammatically, we would say that Baptism transforms death from a period at the end of the sentence of life, into a comma.

Today is All Souls’ Day and we pray for our loved ones who have died. By the way, did you catch our second reading today?  What a shocker, it’s taken straight from Romans 6. There we read: “Brothers and sisters, are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?...

"For if we have grown in union with him through a death like his, we shall also be united with him in the resurrection.” That is, St. Paul was the first to speak grammatically, and say that Baptism changes death from a period to a comma at the end of the sentence of life.

Every year on All Souls Day we have adopted the Hispanic custom of erecting an All Souls Altar. We place pictures of our loved ones who have died and pray for them during a novena (9 days) of Masses. Incidentally, sometimes you also see the altar decorated with skulls or funny faces.

Why? Because Jesus’ resurrection has defeated death so decisively that death is just a joke, and we can laugh at it. Again, the sentencing-ending period of death is now just a cute little comma. But did you also notice where the All Souls Altar is located in our church? It sits directly in front of the baptismal font, where we baptize little babies.

Why put it there? Well, why not put it there? It’s not there just because it’s convenient and so everyone can see it. It’s there to make a theologically point, namely, to remind us about Romans 6. In other words, Baptism has everything to do with an All Souls Altar for the dead, because Baptism throws open the gates of Paradise for them. All the souls in purgatory are learning a little grammar right now: how the period of death has become a comma.

This weekend at the Saturday 5 p.m. Mass Bishop Taylor came to celebrate a Jubilee Mass for our parish. You may recall the bishop designated I.C. and four other churches in the state as “Jubilee Churches”. Pope Francis declared that during the Jubilee year we could visit a Jubilee Church and receive a plenary indulgence to remit the punishments we deserve for our sins in purgatory.

In a sense, a plenary indulgence functions like special Baptism because it throws open the gates of Paradise for us. It has the power to change a period into a comma. I have a little confession to make. I was temped to put a picture of my dog Apollo on the All Souls’ Altar. But I realized that I did not need to. Why not?

It’s not because I don’t love him. Rather it’s because he doesn’t need our prayers, like the people do who have died. Now think about this. Apollo never committed any real sins that need to be forgive, although he did destroy some pretty nice pillows. You can train an animal’s instincts to sit, and to heel, and to shake hands.

But you cannot form an animal’s conscience to choose between right and wrong moral options. And because Apollo did not have a moral conscience, and therefore, never committed a mortal sin, he doesn’t need our prayers. And so I did not his picture on the All Souls Altar. Some people ask, “Do dogs go to heaven?” That’s a silly question because of course all dogs go to heaven.

The real question people should ask is: “Do all human beings go to heaven?” And the answer to that all-important question depends on a whole host of circumstances and our moral choices, like Baptism, and following your conscience, and loving your neighbor, especially the poor, and forgiving those who hurt you, and treating your body like a temple of the Holy Spirit, and a million other critical factors.

In other words, my dog Apollo did not need to be Baptized and Apollo did not need a plenary indulgence because he never committed any sins, and therefore the gates of Paradise were already and always wide open for him. When we ask, “Do all dogs go to heaven?” the shoe is on the wrong paw.

That is, the reason you and I need the sacrament of Baptism and papal plenary indulgences – unlike Apollo – is because the gates of Paradise are not already and always open for us. When we do NOT do funeral Masses for our dogs, that is another reason Catholics do funerals right.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Seven Meals a Day

 

Seeing how to get things done supernaturally

10/28/2025

Luke 6:12-16 Jesus went up to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. When day came, he called his disciples to himself, and from them he chose Twelve, whom he also named Apostles: Simon, whom he named Peter, and his brother Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James the son of Alphaeus, Simon who was called a Zealot, and Judas the son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor.

Conventional wisdom says: If you want to get something done, give it to someone who’s busy. Why? Well, the reason they are busy is because they are getting things done. So give them some more. By contrast, Christian wisdom says: If you want to get something done, give it to someone humble. Why? Well, because the devil won’t see humility coming, and further, he won't be able to stop someone humble. If the devil has a kind of kryptonite, an Achilles’ heel, a fatal flaw, it is a humble Christian.

Are you familiar with J.R.R. Tolkien’s fictional masterpiece called The Lord of the Rings? Our Tuesday 12 noon Bible study group has been studying the genius of Tolkien’s writings: how he translated the faith into fiction. Gandalf, a good and wise wizard, needs to destroy an evil ring of power. And who does he find to carry out this extraordinary task: someone busy? No, someone humble, a small and seemingly inconsequential hobbit.

All the other members of the small expedition to Mt. Doom to destroy the ring have remarkable powers: Stryder with his sword, the Elf and the Dwarf. But Bilbo and Frodo, the humble hobbits' only claim to fame is they like to eat 7 meals a day: breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper. But it is precisely because the hobbits fly below the Dark Lord’s radar of power and prestige that they can complete their clandestine mission to destroy the ring. The hubris of Evil can only be vanquished by the humility of a Christian.

Today we celebrate the feast of two rather small and inconsequential apostles: Sts. Simon and Jude. If the 12 apostles were compared to the small band in the Lord of the Rings, Simon and Jude would be the two humble hobbits. Obviously, Peter, James, John, and Matthew, have great gifts and talents, and are indispensable for Jesus’ mission to create his Church and spread his gospel of peace.

But after spending an entire night in prayer, Jesus becomes acutely aware that some of the most critical tasks of evangelization and conversion can only be completed by the most humble, which is the very heart of holiness. Maybe Simon and Jude’s only claim to fame was they loved their 7 meals a day, too.

Does it come as any surprise, then, that the greatest human achievement in all history was accomplished by an unknown adolescent girl in an obscure Galillean town called Nazareth, who answered an angel humbly: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38). In other words, the hubris of Evil can only be vanquished by the humility of a Christian. If you want to get something supernatural done, give it to someone humble.

My friends, one of the chief benefits of sustained prayer – like Jesus spent the entire night absorbed in contemplation – is to open our eyes to see how things operate on the supernatural plane. On that invisible level you get things done not necessarily by giving the job to the best and the brightest and the most beautiful. But rather by employing the humble, the holy, the poor, the small and insignificant.

Therefore, it should not shock or surprise us that vocations to the priesthood and religious life are thriving in third world countries while they falter in first world countries. Last week I talked to a parishioner about the shortage of priests and getting more priests from other countries. He asked me why we don’t have more U.S. priests, and I answered, because priesthood involves life-long sacrifice and we Americans don’t like to sacrifice.

But sacrifice and suffering are normal in poor countries and so the priesthood seems normal to them. But then I asked him what he thought would be a good solution to the problem, and he said the Church needed to modernize the priesthood, and allow priests to marry and ordain women as priests. That solution, of course, has been tried in other Christian denominations and it didn’t solve the shortage.

But did you catch how our conversation was happening on two different levels? One person was on the natural level and suggested natural solutions, like you would address a problem at work. Fewer priests? Let them marry and allow women to become priests. The other person was on the supernatural level and seeking supernatural solutions: suffering, humility and poverty. What’s the difference?

The natural level does not recognize the enemy is the devil and cannot see how humility is the only way to defeat him. Whereas on the supernatural level – which we only can perceive thanks to prayer – we discover how God operates. Divine wisdom teaches: If you want to get something done supernaturally, give it to someone humble, holy, and poor. That is, after they have their seven meals a day.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Brief Tutorial

 

Understanding “gird your loins” and “light your lamps”

10/21/2025

Luke 12:35-38 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 them 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."

Whenever I preside at funeral Masses, I give a brief tutorial before we pray the Our Father, focusing on the words, “Thy kingdom come.” I say to the family and friends of the deceased: “At this point in the funeral we pray the Lord’s Prayer or the Our Father. And there are 7 things we ask for in the Lord’s Prayer, seven petitions. In one petition we say, ‘Thy kingdom come.’ What does that mean, ‘Thy kingdom come’?”

I continue: “It means we want Jesus to come back at the end of time and establish his kingdom definitively. And the sooner the better: Thy kingdom come!” Then I conclude: “Well, the kingdom has come in a very personal and permanent way for our loved one who has died. And we pray he stands before the King of kings today. That we, too, may be in that kingdom, we pray as our Lord taught us.”

That brief tutorial helps people to pray with more attention and hopefully more anticipation. That is, the end of the world is not something we should dread but something we should desire. Why? Well, because it announces the second coming of Christ, the Parousia, the Eschaton, the Consummation of the world.

Or, as the Book of Revelation 19:9 describes it: “Blessed are those who have been called to the wedding feast of the Lamb.” In other words, we should anxiously await the end of the world like we look forward to a wedding: with desire, not dread.

In the gospel today Jesus uses wedding imagery to talk about his second coming. He tells 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.”

This wedding image in Luke 12:35-38 bears a striking resemblance to the parable of the ten virgins in Mt 25:1-13.

You recall the five wise virgins who kept their lamps lit with ample oil until the bridegroom (Jesus) were to return. Again, virgins know how to gird their loins and are awaiting the bridegroom from a wedding. Let me suggest two interpretations of the phrases, “gird your loins” and “light your lamps.”

First “gird your loins” refers to sexual restraint and virtue, that is, chastity. I tell young engaged couples that one of the best ways to prepare for their wedding day is to refrain from sexual intimacy. Why? If they have been engaging in sexual relations the whole time then their honeymoon night will feel like just another night. And if their sex life has become routine and even a little bit boring, they may look at it more with dread then with desire.

Incidentally, this phrase gird your loins is also why the Church recommends married couples practice Natural Family Planning, or periodic abstinence, instead of contraception. Why? So married people can also gird their loins and practice self-control, the self-mastery of chastity. Then after they have fasted for a time from sexual intimacy, they will look forward to the feast of sexual intimacy with more desire than dread.

Second, the phrase “light your lamps” – and especially Matthew 25’s mention of keeping the lamps lit – suggests our baptism, when we received the light of Christ as we lit our baptismal candles from the Easter Candle, the Christ Candle. By the way, how do our baptismal candles become extinguished and in need of re-lighting?

That occurs every time we commit sins, especially mortal sins. And then how do we re-light our baptismal candle? We go to confession. This is why in the early Church the sacrament of confession was frequently referred to as “a second baptism.” When Jesus says “light your lamps” and keeping your lamps lit he is talking about the sacraments of baptism and confession.

In sum, using two key images, “gird your loins” and “light your lamps”, Jesus teaches the ideal way to prepare for the end of the world. First, practice chastity, and second, go frequently to confession. And when we are thus prepared we can pray the Lord’s Prayer, the Our Father with great confidence and even joyful expectation. Because when we say “Thy kingdom come” we will desire the end of the world, not dread it.

Praised be Jesus Christ!