A Ghost Story for Christmas

Understanding Jesus’ parable of the rich man

03/20/2025

Luke 16:19-31 Jesus said to the Pharisees: "There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man's table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores. When the poor man died, he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried, and from the netherworld, where he was in torment, he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he cried out, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames.' Abraham replied, 'My child, remember that you received what was good during your lifetime while Lazarus likewise received what was bad; but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented. Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours.' He said, 'Then I beg you, father, send him to my father's house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.' But Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.' He said, 'Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.' Then Abraham said, 'If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.”

Every year around Christmas time, I love to watch the Charles Dickens’ classic “A Christmas Carol.” Many people do not know the full title of the short book is: “A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas.” What a jarring juxtaposition: no one thinks of a ghost story in association with the season of Christmas. Right?

But I believe Dickens touches on the very heartbeat of Christmas: a baby is born so he could one day die and rise again, not as a ghost but in glory, so that we might not be ghosts but enjoy that glory, too. You remember, of course, the rough contours of the Dickens’ classic. An elderly miser named Ebenezer Scrooge cares only about money and hates everything about Christmas: the fun, the faith, and the family time.

He is visited by three ghosts – one of Christmas past, another of Christmas present, and a third of Christmas future – and he sees how his life is unfolding and begins to see the error of his ways. But the purpose of the ghostly visitors was not so much to scare the hell out of him – which they did very well – but more so to scare the heaven into him, which they accomplished beautifully. 

How so? Well, remember in the end when he runs through the streets in his pajamas singing and dancing and buying everyone gifts? He was living the true Christmas spirit, namely, living inspired by the Holy Spirit, rather than being haunted by ghosts, dead spirits. As a result, Scrooge’s own future would not be ghostly but full of glory.

In the gospel today Jesus tells a very unusual parable about a rich man and ghosts, surprisingly similar to Dickens’ “A Ghost Story about Christmas.” I have always wondered if this parable inspired Dickens’ literary imagination. A rich man ends up in a place of torment and begs Abraham to help his five brothers: “If someone from the dead [a ghost] goes to them, they will repent.”

The irony is that even though Ebenezer repented of his greed, Abraham foresaw the opposite effect for the rich man’s brothers. He foretells the future incredulity of the Jewish leaders after Jesus rises from the dead: “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.”

My friends, both Dickens’ prose and Jesus’ parable lay a challenge at our feet today, in this season of Lent. What will it take for us to change our lives and live entirely according to the Spirit of Christmas, that is, always inspired by the Holy Spirit, traditionally called “the Holy Ghost”? In other words, do we need the hell scared out of us like Scrooge did, or can we have the heaven scared into us like the disciples did after Jesus’ resurrection?

They saw not a ghost but our Lord’s glory. And not only were their lives changed but they changed the world. In a sense, they apostles became like Ebenezer Scrooge and only cared about faith and fun and family. They ran and danced throughout the world buying gifts for the poor. You know, I really wish people would remember the longer title of Charles Dickens’ classic: “A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Baby Daddy

Seeing and imitating St. Joseph's compassion

03/19/2025

Matthew 1:16, 18-21, 24a Jacob was the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Christ. Now this is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about. When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly. Such was his intention when, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home.

I want to tell you a little story about sacrifice. You have probably heard of the famous Indian leader and liberator Mahatma Gandhi. He’s one of my heroes. One day a worried mother brought her troubled toddler to him to ask for help.

She said, “I don’t know what to do with him. He runs around the house non-stop. He fights with his siblings and friends. And he won’t listen to a word I say. I’ve tried everything to calm him down but nothing works. Can you help me, please?”

Mahatma Gandhi thought for a moment and then answered, “I think I know what the problem is. Come back in a month and I will tell you what you should do.” The mother left feeling puzzled. Nonetheless, she came back with her son a month later as directed.

She asked, “Okay, now can you please tell me what I should do?” Gandhi replied, “Yes, your son has too much sugar in his diet and you should stop giving him sweets. “ The mother felt relieved but asked: “Why didn’t you tell me this a month ago?” Gandhi answered: “A month ago I had not given up sugar or sweets.”

You see, Gandhi didn’t want to ask the little boy to make a sacrifice he was not willing to make himself first. And by the way, Gandhi demonstrated the true meaning of the word “compassion.” Compassion comes from two Latin words, “cum” meaning “with” and “passio” which means to suffer.

Compassion, in other words, is love for others that desires to suffer along with someone who’s suffering, like Gandhi gave up sweets like the little boy had to. And this is the true spirit of sacrifice: to suffer with others.

Today, March 19, is the Solemnity of St. Joseph, the Husband of Mary. Incidentally, “solemnity” means it is like a “Sunday” and that is why we said the Gloria, and after the homily we will recite the Creed today.

One of the great virtues of St. Joseph is that he was a man of great compassion and willing to suffer with others, especially his wife, Mary. How so? Well, at first he is troubled when he hears that she is pregnant and he is clearly not “the baby daddy.”

But then an angel inspires him to do what Gandhi did, namely, not to divorce her or kick her to the curb, but to suffer with her. Joseph practiced great compassion toward Mary, solidarity with her in her suffering, a pregnant teenager.

Indeed, they would continue to show great compassion toward each other by being chaste and celibate for the rest of their lives. In other words, Joseph, like Gandhi, was a saint of great compassion, ready to suffer with others.

Boys and girls, have you given up something for Lent? Maybe like Gandhi and that toddler you gave up sweets. Or maybe you gave up Tik-Tok or Snap Chat, or video games. Maybe you are not giving up something but are adding something.

Maybe you are going to an extra Mass, or reading the Bible daily or praying the Rosary. Some of you may be helping the poor by the Rice Bowl program or donating food or clothing to a charity. And those are certainly great things to do for Lent.

But this Lent can I also ask you to practice a little compassion and suffer along with someone else that you know is hurting? I’m sure you have friends, or family, or classmates, or even teachers or coaches who are going through a tough time.

Maybe make a small sacrifice for them and say a prayer for them like Gandhi and St. Joseph. You cannot always stop someone else’s suffering, but you can show solidarity (unity) with their suffering. Let me leave you with a quotation from George MacDonald, a Presbyterian minister who inspired C. S. Lewis.

See if you can catch how this quotation is another way to describe the virtue of compassion: “The Son of Man [Jesus] came to earth to suffer and die not so that we might not have to, but so that our suffering might be like his.”

That is, so our suffering would not be empty but full of meaning, meaning we are becoming more like Jesus. And I might add, “So that Jesus’ suffering could become more like ours.” And that is a little story about sacrifice.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Luck of the Irish

Seeing luck as an expression of God’s providential love

03/17/2025

Luke 5:1-11 While the crowd was pressing in on Jesus and listening to the word of God, he was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret. He saw two boats there alongside the lake; the fishermen had disembarked and were washing their nets. Getting into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, he asked him to put out a short distance from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. After he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch." Simon said in reply, "Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing, but at your command I will lower the nets." When they had done this, they caught a great number of fish and their nets were tearing. They signaled to their partners in the other boat to come to help them. They came and filled both boats so that they were in danger of sinking. When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at the knees of Jesus and said, "Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man." For astonishment at the catch of fish they had made seized him and all those with him, and likewise James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who were partners of Simon. Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men." When they brought their boats to the shore, they left everything and followed him.

I hate to admit this but I am a fan of the “Deadpool” movies. If you have watched them, you probably felt like you needed to go to confession afterwards, like I did. But I was fascinated by one character in Deadpool 2 named Dominio because her superpower was “luck.” She really should have been called “Lady Luck.”

Whenever she was fighting a bad guy some chance or accidental event would occur saving her and simultaneously killing the bad guy. At first sight “being lucky” sounds like the worst kind of superpower someone could wield. But as the movie goes on you realize how valuable “being lucky" really is.

I mention the superpower of luck today on the feast of St. Patrick because the Irish are famously known for being lucky. We say, “Ah, the luck of the Irish.” But the real Irish are deeply Catholic, and they would not call their superpower “luck” but rather “providence,” or “relying on God’s will” to save them.

In a sense, the greatest superpower is total reliance on God’s love and wisdom to guide not only the whole universe, but also to guide our individual lives as well. The wider world may call fortunate happenstance “luck,” but we Christians know to call it “divine providence,” or better “divine love.”

In the gospel today Jesus calls St. Peter through a dramatic catch of fish. Jesus says to the fisherman – words that will have a far-reaching meaning in the history of Christianity – “Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.” And even though Simon Peter objects at first, he relents and obeys. After the miraculous catch of fish, St. Peter immediately perceives the hand of God at work and exclaims: “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”

In other words, outside observers that day may have thought, “Wow, what a lucky catch of fish!” But St. Peter thought, “Wow, what a demonstration of divine providence,” and committed his life to trusting that providential love. For people of faith, luck is really love: God’s love guiding our lives.

You probably know the rough contours of the story of St. Patrick. You better know it because you attend a church originally named St. Patrick’s. But as a young boy he grew up in England and was captured by Irish pirates and sold into slavery in Ireland. He lived there for 6 years as an animal herder. He escaped and returned to England to become a priest, but then returned to preach and teach in Ireland.

That is, Patrick saw his escape from Ireland not as something extremely lucky, but something extremely providential; a sign from God that he had been put in Ireland for a purpose, namely, evangelization. Patrick, like Peter, did not interpret lucky coincidences as their superpower but rather the unfolding of history as an expression of God’s superpower called providence, guiding the course of events. Hence, they trusted that loving providence entirely, and built their lives upon it as a foundation.

Let me share a final anecdote about luck that really turns out to be love. The history book about our parish is called “From the Foundation Up”. There we find the story – maybe legend – of how our parish went from being called “St. Patrick’s” to “Immaculate Conception.” Have you ever wondered how that happened? In the 1860’s, Fr. Lawrence Symth traveled to Rome and had the occasion to meet the pope, the very intimidating Pope Pius IX.

In Italian his name translated as “Pio Nono” and that was appropriate because he always said, “Not only “no” but heck no!” Fr. Smyth stood very nervously in line as the successor of St. Peter made his way down the receiving line. When he came face-to-face with Pio Nono, the pope asked him, “What is the name of your parish, my son?”

And my poor predecessor was so scared he drew a blank, and couldn’t remember the name of his own parish. After a very awkward silence, Fr. Smyth blurted out, “Uh, it is the Church of the Immaculate Conception, Your Holiness.” That reply was actually a very astute diplomatic answer. Why?

Because back in 1854, Pius IX had declared the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, that Mother Mary was immaculately conceived – without sin – in the womb of her mother, St. Anne. And I am sure Fr. Smyth’s parish in the 1860’s must have been one of the first to bear that name (pun intended). And just maybe for once Pio Nono actually said, “Yes, yes…” as he walked away from Fr. Smyth.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Morphine Guy

Appreciating our priests but loving our Lord

03/16/2025

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

This past week I was in Little Rock for our Spring Continuing Education for clergy. The conferences were educational and useful, but the best part of the 3 days was the company of brother priests who truly love Jesus and “all a ya’ll”, his people. Invariably, the visiting speakers comment on the warm fraternity and strong unity of the priests who comprise the Arkansas presbyterate.

One way we demonstrate our brotherhood is being able to laugh at each other good-naturedly. For example, one priest shared the story about visiting a dying patient in the hospital and overhearing the doctor prescribe 5 doses of morphine. The priest had an alarmed look on his face, so the doctor took him aside to explain.

The doctor said, “Just in confidence, the patient is a heroine addict, and it takes 5 doses to counteract the drugs in her system. Don’t worry, I am not trying to kill her.” But after this priest related that story, we all started calling this particular priest “the morphine guy.” And the speakers picked up on that, and started calling him that too. And he loved the jovial ribbing.

Our first reading today is from Genesis 15 and it always reminds me of my own liturgical faux pas many years ago while studying canon law. A group of priests and I were celebrating Mass. I volunteered to read the Genesis reading because there were no lay people. It was an older translation which had, instead of “a smoking fire pot” the words “a smoking brazier.”

Well, I accidentally said, “a smoking brassiere.” After all, I’m just a poor priest from India, who can’t pronounce these hard words. Needless to say no one could pay attention to the rest of the Mass. And they dubbed me “the brassier boy.” Ever since then one of my favorite proverbs is: “Keep your mouth shut and let people think you’re a fool then open your mouth and remove all doubt.”

Another example of this humorous humility of the clergy occurred in the era of Napoleon Bonaparte. The brash French emperor once taunted Cardinal Consalvi, “Your Eminence, are you not aware that I have the power to destroy the Catholic Church?” To which the unperturbed cardinal answered calmly: “Your Majesty, we, the Catholic clergy have done our best to destroy the Church for 1800 years. We have not succeeded, and neither will you.”

Maybe this is the reason Venerable Fulton Sheen titled his autobiography, “Treasure in Clay.” Even though Archbishop Fulton Sheen had the most popular television show in the 1950’s – and good reason to have a big head – he still knew the true Treasure he carried was Jesus Christ, and he was merely the earthen vessel. Sheen could laugh at himself.

The gospel of Luke today presents the Transfiguration of Jesus, and the three apostles Peter, James, and John are given a glimpse of his divine glory. And like “the morphine guy” and “the brassiere boy,” St. Peter also puts his foot in his mouth by suggesting building 3 tents for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah.

Notice that Luke notes: “But he did not know what he was saying.” And maybe Peter’s comment elicited hearty laughter from James and John, his brother priests. They were probably thinking: “Peter, keep your mouth shut and let people think you’re a fool than open your mouth and remove all doubt.”

But ironically – and here’s the main point – Peter’s blurted suggestion actually served to highlight Jesus’ glory. How so? Well, it makes it plain as day that Jesus’ Church will stand on his grace alone, and not on the holiness or the wisdom of his priests. Just like the moon and stars shine brightest in the dead of night.

St. Thomas Aquinas said the best way to know God was the via negativa, the negative way. We know God by seeing how unlike he is to us. We are mortal, but God is immortal; we know little, but God is omniscient (all-knowing); we are weak, but God is omnipotent (all-powerful), etc. In other words, the earthen vessels serve to highlight how precious the divine Treasure (Jesus) truly is.

And in this way, the Transfiguration holds a special lesson for our Lenten journey. That is, we witness how holy Jesus precisely by catching how human his priests are. Jesus alone is our Treasure while the priests are but earthen vessels, his instruments of grace.

Of course, Catholics love their priests but should always be careful not to put priests on a pedestal. Why not? Because we quickly tumble off. That is, we put on our black pants one leg at a time, just like everyone else. In other words, Lent is all about not clinging too closely to things (or even people, or even priests) and clinging ever more tightly to Christ.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen remarked in his humble autobiography, “If Jesus can ride triumphantly into Jerusalem seated on the back of a donkey, then he can use human priests to ride into your life as well.” Sheen used a stronger word than “donkey.” This Lent, learn to love the Treasure (Jesus), and laugh at the clay, “the morphine guy,” and the “brassiere boy.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Gay Pride Pilgrimage

Gay Pride Pilgrimage

03/11/2025

Matthew 25:31-46 Jesus said to his disciples: "When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his  right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.' Then the righteous will answer him and say, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?' And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.'

A notable feature of older Catholic cultures conspicuously absent in modern American society is the pilgrimage. Of course we have parades: like on Thanksgiving Day, or when a team wins the Superbowl or even gay pride parades, to celebrate secular values. But we Americans do not have the habit of making pilgrimages, that is, forming a group of people who walk, pray, and sing from one place and usually their destination is a church or religious shrine.

This contrast, or better clash, of cultures becomes evident, even comical, every year when we do our Guadalupe pilgrimage. We walk from Fort Smith Park, close to the Midland bridge to Van Buren, to I.C. Church, about 5 miles distance. Usually the pilgrimage group consists of 200 to 300 participants.

We walk while praying the rosary, singing hymns using loud speakers, and even a booming drum providing a pounding rhythm for Aztec dancers. People stand in doorways and small children gape in wide-eyed amazement maybe even shock at the spectacle, not sure what to make of it.

Most people probably think it is a protest of immigration laws. The truth is, surprisingly, a pilgrimage is actually in support of immigration laws, that is, we pray for merciful laws to emigrate from this world to what Hamlet called “the undiscovered country”, namely, heaven, our true homeland, and (literally) our Fatherland, where God our Father lives and reigns.

In other words, the underlying purpose and point of a pilgrimage is to recognize we are all immigrants in a foreign land, as Heb 11:13 puts it, “strangers and sojourners.” But when, by contrast, a culture or country cannot conceive of producing a pilgrimage (and only has parades) it begins to think we don’t need to journey anywhere else. Why?

Because we are already home. We have created heaven on earth. Hamlet’s “undiscovered country” is simply my backyard, the wide horizon of the untamed West. And so we have parades rather than pilgrimages to celebrate our blessings instead of looking forward to the next life. Maybe that is why we can have a gay pride parade, but you never heard of a gay pride pilgrimage.

In fact, every time we fill out the city permit to have a pilgrimage, do you know what form we fill out? It is called “a parade permit.” But for Christians parades are for Paradise, pilgrimages are for earth, where we are all immigrants, strangers and sojourners in a foreign land. Or are we?

In this morning’s gospel we hear the third section of Matthew 25, one of my favorite chapters of the first gospel. The first section vv 1-13 is the parable of the wise and foolish virgins. The second section vv. 14-30 describes the parable of the talents. And the third part vv 31-46 is the judgment of the nations.

And in a sense all three sections and parables are reminders that earthly life is a pilgrimage on our way to “the undiscovered country” of heaven. In other words, they are about what happens when we get to the end of our earthly sojourn. Life, in other words, is a pilgrimage, not a parade.

By the way, have you noticed how we Catholics undertake a mini-pilgrimage every time we come to Mass? The older design of churches featured a long nave that begins with the baptismal font at the doors (symbolizing birth), proceeds up the central aisle (the journey of life) to the altar (symbol of sacrifice and death), and finally to the tabernacle, surely symbolizing where Jesus resides and reigns in heaven.

Indeed, as dear Ed Winkleman often reminds me, this mini-morning pilgrimage actually begins at each of your homes when you get out of bed and drive your cars to church, to Mass, to heaven. Every celebration of the Eucharist is an unconscious reenactment of a pilgrimage, a liturgical reminder that we are all in favor of merciful immigration laws. Why? Because we are all immigrants hoping to move to a better country. Or are we?

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Nice Guys Finish First

Understanding how to run the right race

03/08/2025

Luke 5:27-32 Jesus saw a tax collector named Levi sitting at the customs post. He said to him, "Follow me." And leaving everything behind, he got up and followed him. Then Levi gave a great banquet for him in his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were at table with them. The Pharisees and their scribes complained to his disciples, saying, "Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?" Jesus said to them in reply, "Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do. I have not come to call the righteous to repentance but sinners."

Last night I attended the youth-led Stations of the Cross, and I was very impressed. Some students spoke the stations while others acted out the scenes and steps of our Lord’s passion and death. At one station, Dc. Charlie said something that hit me squarely between the eyes. He said, “People say that nice guys finish last, but I guess that depends on which race you are running.”

I took those words to mean this: if you’re running the rat race, nice guys do indeed finish last. But if you’re running the right race, nice guys always finish first. John Maxwell, a leadership expert, once said: “You don’t want to get to the top of the ladder of success just to find out it is leaning against the wrong wall.” That is, in life run the right race, and climb the right ladder.

In the gospel today, we hear the stunning story of the conversion of Levi the tax-collector. We know Levi is the Hebrew name for Matthew (the Latin name) for the evangelist who wrote the first gospel. And the reason his conversion from tax-collector to teacher of truth is so stunning is because Jesus simply utters two words, “Follow me,” and Levi immediately drops everything.

In other words, Jesus showed Levi/Matthew he was running the wrong race, and climbing the wrong ladder. Levi didn’t mind finishing last in the rat race – making lots of money – because he discovered it was the wrong race. Let me give you a couple of examples of how we, too, like Levi, might be running the wrong race, or the rat race, and fear finishing last.

I saw a post on Facebook attributed to Pope Francis, which was falsely said to come from him, but it still made a good point. The quote has a smiling Francis and begins, “Eat whatever you want for Lent. The sacrifice is not in the stomach but in the heart.” The supposed papal mandate continued: “They refrain from eating meat, but don’t talk to their siblings or relatives, don’t visit their parents or bother to attend to them.”

Now, the pope never said that, but it was shared over 700 times on social media. But regardless of social media scams, wise Catholics know the purpose of bodily sacrifice, like abstaining from meat or fasting from food, is so we strengthen our wills to do good, like loving our neighbor. I say “No” to greed so I can say “Yes” to generosity.

By the way, I watched with wide-eyed amazement the desire – no, the obsession – of Catholics to get their ashes on Ash Wednesday. But I wondered where are those same Catholics on Sunday to receive the Eucharist? They would rather have a smudge of ashes than the Savior Almighty. That is called running the wrong rat race, and those Catholics will one day discover, let’s hope very soon like Levi, the ladder they are climbing is leaning against the wrong wall.

A second example of running the wrong rat race is what I am sharing in my Lenten Theology of the Body talks. Last Monday I gave the first presentation and I will provide four more on Mondays at 6 p.m. If you miss any of the presentations, don’t worry, we are also recording them and making them available on Facebook, where you can now find the first presentation.

It is difficult to summarize the whole Theology of the Body of Pope St. John Paul II even in five presentations. But one way to put it in a nutshell might be to say that many married couples (perhaps most) approach marriage in effect like running the wrong rat race. Of course, we are called to love our human spouse “for better or worse, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, until death do us part.”

And that is true to a point, but it is also in a sense the wrong rat race. What does that mean? Well, the underlying purpose and goal of marriage to a human spouse on earth is to help us get ready for our eternal marriage to our divine Spouse, Jesus in heaven. That is why you can marry again after your human spouse dies. That is, keep practicing!

Obviously, it is  heart-breaking when you have marriage problems, or even divorce. But don’t freak-out. Earthly marriage is just a life-long marriage preparation program to prepare to marry Jesus. Human marriage is what Pope St. John Paul II calls a “pedagogy” a teaching, a formation program. And so the real race is falling is love with Jesus and finally marrying him in heaven. And in that race, nice guys finish first.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Game Plan for Lent

Executing Jesus’ teachings for Lent and life

03/05/2025

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18 Jesus said to his disciples: "Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father. When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your almsgiving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

If you are the coach of a Division I college basketball program, you better have a game plan before your team gets on the court. Last week I had the funeral of Melanie Donaubauer, and the legendary Coach Nolan Richardson was here at Immaculate Conception for the funeral.

He is close friends with the Donaubauer family. Coach Richardson’s game plan for his team was simple, it was called “40 minutes of hell.” And it worked because the Arkansas Razorbacks won the national championship in 1994. When Coach Mike Anderson succeeded Coach Richardson, people asked him what his game plan was for the basketball Hogs.

He jokingly replied: “Coach Richardson had 40 minutes of hell. Now, our game plan is 20 minutes of hell and 20 minutes of I don’t know what the hell we’re doing.” It’s okay to say “hell” if you are a priest and in church. If you want to be able to say “hell” you should become a priest too.

In the gospel today, Jesus gives his disciples his game plan for Lent, which is really the best game plan for life. Jesus, the greatest coach who ever lived, taught his team a three-step game plan. First, almsgiving, which is helping the poor. Second prayer, especially praying in private, even in secret.

And third, fasting, which involves not eating as much and not looking like you’re fasting; you should look pretty. By the way, this year I am sending my almsgiving donation to Catholic Charities of Arkansas. Why? Well, because they lost their funding from the federal government to help migrants and for refugee resettlement.

Every year people ask me, “Fr. John what should I do for Lent this year?” My answer is always the same: “What did Jesus give us as our game plan for Lent and for life?” So, this Lent do three things: (1) find a way to help the poor, (2) take extra time for personal prayer, and (3) practice fasting from food and drink.

My friends, almsgiving, prayer, and fasting is our Christian game-plan for Lent and for life. It will not help you win a national championship in basketball, but it will help you win “an imperishable crown” (1 Cor 9:25) in heaven. Put differently, Jesus’ game plan is not about how to “give ‘em hell,” but about how to "stay out of hell.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Making Tuesday Fat Again

Recovering the meaning of Christian feasts and fasts

03/04/2025

Mark 10:28-31 Peter began to say to Jesus, 'We have given up everything and followed you." Jesus said, "Amen, I say to you, there is no one who has given up house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for my sake and for the sake of the gospel who will not receive a hundred times more now in this present age: houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and eternal life in the age to come. But many that are first will be last, and the last will be first."

Do you have big plans for Fat Tuesday, or as today is known in New Orleans and France, “Mardi Gras”? Mardi Gras literally means “Fat Tuesday.” But today is traditionally also known as “Shrove Tuesday.” Shrove means going to confession and being forgiven or shriven of your sins. But sometimes people refer to this Tuesday as “carnevale” which literally means “good-bye to meat.”

“Carne” is Latin for meat, and “vale” means “farewell.” During the season of Lent we give up eating meat on Ash Wednesday and all Fridays. In other words, this Tuesday is “fat” not only because we pig out, but also because there are many layers of meaning for this day, like a many layered cake.

But I am afraid we are slowly losing all these spiritual meanings (these layers) of Fat Tuesday and are left with just another excuse to have a party. As you will witness if you watch the news this evening, you will see what the city of New Orleans dubs, “The Greatest Free Show on Earth.” But that anodyne name does not hide the fact that Nawlins becomes the capital of debauchery and decadence today.

On Mardi Gras, Nawlins steals the title of Sin City from Las Vegas.

That is, most of those folks celebrating Fat Tuesday will not be waking up on Wednesday to go to Mass and get ashes on their forehead, but only waking up with a pounding ache in their forehead, a hangover.

As Archbishop Fulton Sheen wisely observed even back in the 1970’s, “We are living at the end of Christendom.” For many modern Christians, including Catholics, our faith is just a shell of what it should be, as cheap and glittery as the beads we wear around our necks today.

The gospel from Mk 10:28-31 that we read today, therefore, is just perfect for Fat Tuesday. How so? It is as if St. Peter is standing on the threshold, the doorstep, of Lent, when he says: “We have given up everything and followed you.”

In other words, following Jesus by faith means living Lent all year long, not just for 40 days. We don’t just say farewell to meat (carne-vale) for a few days, but try to maintain a spirit of sacrifice, that is, carry our cross, all year long.

And how does Jesus answer the Prince of the Apostles? Our Lord replies: “Amen, I say to you, there is no one who has given up house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for my sake and for the sake of the Gospel who will not receive a hundred times more now in this present age: houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and eternal life in the age to come.”

In other words, Peter and Jesus are injecting Fat Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, Lent, and the whole Christian life with layers of meaning – making Tuesday truly Fat again. That is, they shed the light of heaven and eternal life on our earthly sojourn.

In that heavenly light and glow we see we are pilgrims on earth journeying to our heavenly home, and along the way there will be sacrifices and set-backs like on every vacation these days where we struggle with delays and cancellations at the airport.

My friends, we no longer live in Christendom, because the world around us – like in New Orleans tonight – no longer remembers what today and tomorrow mean. Our society suffers from collective amnesia of our Christian roots and the meaning of our Christian celebrations.

Nonetheless, the light of the Gospel and the words of Christ never lose their luster. Indeed, they shine the brightest in the darkness, like the star that guided the three Wise Men during the night to the manger and the Messiah.

So today enjoy your Mardi Gras parties and all the festivities. But don’t forget what makes Fat Tuesday truly “fat” – it should be full to overflowing with the meaning of faith: that life is a journey to our heavenly homeland. Faith is what will make this Tuesday fat again.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Old Characters

Passing on responsibilities to the next generation

03/02/2025

Luke 6:39-45 Jesus told his disciples a parable, “Can a blind person guide a blind person? Will not both fall into a pit? No disciple is superior to the teacher; but when fully trained, every disciple will be like his teacher. Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own? How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me remove that splinter in your eye,’ when you do not even notice the wooden beam in your own eye? You hypocrite!  Remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter in your brother’s eye. “A good tree does not bear rotten fruit, nor does a rotten tree bear good fruit. For every tree is known by its own fruit. For people do not pick figs from thornbushes, nor do they gather grapes from brambles. A good person out of the store of goodness in his heart produces good, but an evil person out of a store of evil produces evil; for from the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks.”

Sometimes when I get together with my brother priests, we ask ourselves: “Where are all the old priests who were the real characters back in the day?” For example, the church staff loves to tell the story of Msgr. John O’Donnell, former pastor of I.C. So often responsibilities and jobs in the Fort Smith Catholic community would fall to the church staff of I.C. Church because we are the oldest and largest parish in town.

Once when Msgr. O’Donnell was vacationing in New Orleans he brought back baseball caps for the whole staff. The caps just had four large letters on it: “NOPD” which stood for New Orleans Police Department.” But Msgr. O’Donnell explained that the staff should tell anyone who tries to give us new jobs that the letters really stand for “Not Our Problem Dear.” Msgr. O’Donnell was quite a character but also a class act.

This year I will turn 56 years old – I know I only look 25 – and I will have been a priest for 29 years. That means I have been a priest for more than half of my life. So maybe the younger priests these days are looking at me and my peers as the old characters of the priesthood, and making fun of our idiosyncrasies. I remember Archbishop Sartain sharing with us priest something insightful when he became bishop of Little Rock.

He looked around and commented to a brother priest, “Hey, you know, we’re the ones in charge of stuff.” And that is especially true when you are a bishop. Sooner or later, we all becomes the ones who look around and remark: “Hey, you know, we’re the ones in charge of stuff” which means we are now the old characters that the younger generation is probably making fun of.

In the gospel today, Jesus offers some advice to those who find themselves “in charge of stuff,” namely, to his apostles. He teaches his future shepherds: “Can a blind person lead a blind person? Will not both fall into a pit?” And later he adds: “A good tree does not bear rotten fruit nor does a rotten tree bear good fruit. For every tree is known by its own fruit.”

That reminds me of that great line from the move Star Wars. Han Solo sarcastically says to Obi-Wan as they are about to do  what Ob-Won recommended: “You old fool, I knew you were going to say that.” But then Obi-Won replies: “Who’s the more foolish: the fool or the fool who follows him?” In other words, don’t follow a fool, or walk behind a blind person, spiritually-speaking.

One of the spiritual fruits that we priests should bear is new vocations, that is, future priests. A priest in seminary told us that every priest should inspire at least one vocation to take his place after he dies. We are blessed here at I.C. to have Ben Keating in the seminary studying to be a priest, and also Josie Nunez who is at Holy Angels Convent in Jonesboro, AR. When Ben is ordained I can retire!

Maybe Ben and Josie sit around with their friends and call me one of the old characters. But I hope they will judge me not by my character or anything I might have done in the priesthood, but rather by my spiritual fruits, my spiritual offspring, namely, Ben and Josie. They are my only claim to fame. “By their fruits you shall know them.”

My friends, it is not just bishops and priests who sooner or later find themselves in charge of stuff – the old characters who people talk about. But we all will, especially those who are called to be married with children. I will never forget what my brother said when in the delivery room he held his firstborn son.

He told me with tears in his eyes: “Two huge waves of emotion washed over me. First I felt a wave of love for this newborn child. I knew I could die for him. Second, I felt a tsunami of responsibility for this child. Everything he needed depended entirely on me.”

I think the second wave might have bowled him over more than the first one. In other words, new parents do not find themselves “in charge of stuff,” they are “in charge of someone”! And many years later they find themselves in the shoes of the old characters that their kids and grandkids sit around and talk about.

Folks, I know it can be a little depressing when we think about all the I.C. heroes of the past who are now gone. Just in my 11 years here we have lost Msgr. John O’Donnell and Msgr. Richard Oswald, Tom Caldarera, Gene Bruick, Bill and Peggy Wideman (which was a double funeral), David and Mary Ann McMahon, Dc. Bill Curry, Rita Helfrick, Rosemary Reith, Jean Shields, and so many more pillars of our parish.

But here’s the good news: I have also seen new faces and new pillars arriving to take their place and support this parish. That is, each generation passes the torch of faith, responsibility, and hope to the succeeding generation, even while they ask, “Where are all the old characters these days?” But then we catch a glimpse of ourselves in the mirror and realize, “Hey, you know, we’re the ones in charge of stuff around here.” And we pray, “God help the Church.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Fat or Skinny Pope

Praying for the successors of St. Peter

02/25/2025

Mark 9:30-37 Jesus and his disciples left from there and began a journey through Galilee, but he did not wish anyone to know about it. They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house, he began to ask them, "What were you arguing about on the way?" But they remained silent. For they had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest. Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them, "If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all." Taking a child, he placed it in their midst, and putting his arms around it, he said to them, "Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me."

Have you been keeping up with Pope Francis and his critical health situation? I have been watching the news daily for updates and burning up my rosary beads for him. Every Sunday afternoon my family does a conference call – my parents, my brother and sister, any in-laws, and nieces and nephews (the outlaws) – and Pope Francis is one of our intentions of our family rosary. I hope you have been praying a little extra for our Holy Father as well lately.

This morning, Tuesday, February 25, I checked my phone to see if there had been any updates on his health and recovery. Newsweek published an article at 5:26 EST with an update straight from the Vatican. It said: “Pope Francis is continuing his recovery from pneumonia in hospital and has resumed some work, the Vatican announced Tuesday morning.”

As you know, Rome is 7 hours ahead of us here in Arkansas, so at 5:26 a.m. here in Fort Smith, it was already 12:26 p.m. in Rome, Italy and everyone there was sitting down to their big pasta meal and then going to hit their afternoon siesta.

As Pope Francis ails and approaches his eternal reward questions naturally start circling (like vultures around a cadaver) about who the next successor of St. Peter will be, who will wear the “shoes of the fisherman,” as the pope is figuratively referred to.

When a pope dies, all the cardinals 80 years old or younger gather in the Sistine Chapel to vote for the next pope. As of October, 2024, there are 141 Catholic cardinals under the age of 80, and that number will decrease – as cardinals age-out – to 126 by the end of 2025. So the number of cardinals who are “papabile” (eligible to be pope) is always a sliding scale.

As Americans living in a democracy polarized between conservatives and liberals, we cannot help but think of the next papal conclave except in terms of whether the next pope will lean left or right. Indeed, there is an old Italian proverb that says, “Seguite sempre un papa grasso con sottile,” meaning “Always follow a fat pope with a skinny one.” Or, follow a liberal pope with a conservative one.

And it will take 77 votes to get to the required 2/3 majority to be the next pope. Some of the names of “papabile” cardinals that have risen to recent prominence include conservative cardinals such as Peter Erdo from Hungary and Ambongo Besungu, from the Democratic Republic of Congo, who, if he were elected would serve as the first black pope.

Among the frontrunners on the more liberal wing are cardinals Luis Antonio Tagle of the Philippines and Vatican Secretary of State Pietro Parolin, who by the way, is leading the evening rosary vigils in St. Peter’s Square every evening. So he’s getting some prime time TV coverage.

But a better way to think about the election of the next man who slips his feet into “the shoes of the fisherman” is to ask, “Who would Jesus want to be the next pope?” After all, this is his Church far more than it is our Church.

And ultimately, it is the Holy Spirit who not only decides who will be the next pope – through the human instruments of cardinal electors – but He is the One who guides the Barque of St. Peter down the ages. The Holy Spirit is really the One in charge of the Church.

And we get a good sense of whom Jesus would want to lead his Church in the gospel today. The first cardinal-electors, the apostles, are arguing about which of them is the greatest – perhaps echoing the conversations in the Sistine Chapel during the vacancy of a pope – and Jesus says: “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.”

In other words, Jesus does not want a conservative pope or a liberal pope, a fat pope or a skinny pope, but a humble pope, a holy  pope, a servant leader. And whatever you may think of Pope Francis, I believe Jesus would be very pleased and proud of his tenure so far in the shoes of the fisherman.

Yesterday, on February 24, the Vatican gave an update on the pope’s health, and added: “In the evening [Pope Francis] called the parish priest in the Gaza parish to express his paternal closeness.” That to me sounds like something Jesus would do. Francis is not a fat pope or a skinny pope, he’s just the right pope. And let’s pray the next one will be too.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Not Easy Being Green

Understanding the natural habitat of the Bible

02/24/2025

Mark 9:14-29 As Jesus came down from the mountain with Peter, James, John…Someone from the crowd answered him, “Teacher, I have brought to you my son possessed by a mute spirit. Wherever it seizes him, it throws him down; he foams at the mouth, grinds his teeth, and becomes rigid. I asked your disciples to drive it out, but they were unable to do so.” Then he questioned his father, “How long has this been happening to him?” He replied, “Since childhood. It has often thrown him into fire and into water to kill him. But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” Jesus, on seeing a crowd rapidly gathering, rebuked the unclean spirit and said to it, “Mute and deaf spirit, I command you: come out of him and never enter him again!” But Jesus took him by the hand, raised him, and he stood up. When he entered the house, his disciples asked him in private, “Why could we not drive the spirit out?” He said to them, “This kind can only come out through prayer.”

I love to study Scripture, but there is a danger of delving too deep. It can be compared to dissecting a frog in biology class. Did you ever do that back in high school? You may have loved looking at frogs in nature, jumping from lilly-pad to lilly-pad, maybe even sang along with Kermit the Frog, “It’s not easy being green.” Heck, you may have even eaten frog-legs.

But once you lay Kermit flat and spread-eagle on the dissecting table, and start to peel back skin and muscle, and probe his poor organs, you can never look at Kermit the Frog the same again. A little of the mystery and magic is lost, namely, frogness. When you treat Kermit as an object of scientific study, then it is definitely “not easy being green.”

The same experience of losing the mystery can happen when we treat Sacred Scripture as an object of study rather than a book of faith. For example, the last line of today’s gospel, Mk 9:29, reads: “Jesus said to them, ‘This kind can only come out through prayer’.” But most Bibles will have an asterisk at that verse, and explain, “A variant reading adds, ‘And through fasting’.”

Wait a minute, so which is the correct version of Mk 9:29: adding “and through fasting” or omitting “and through fasting”? But as soon as you ask that question of which version is correct, you have taken the Bible out of its natural habitat of the liturgy (being proclaimed at Mass) and placed it like poor Kermit on the dissecting table of scientific study.

You no longer gaze at the Bible full of mystery and magic (in the good sense) through the eyes of faith. But rather start pulling it apart and probing its innards, peering at it through a microscope. This more scientific study of Scripture has great value, of course, but also has an inherent danger, namely, we may lose our faith. This modern, scientific approach to Bible study is called the historical-critical method, and it is widely used and very popular.

And the branch of this tree that examines a verse like Mk 9:29 to answer which version of this verse is more original or authentic is called text criticism, or textual criticism. You see, the problem text critics grapple with is that there are no extant original copies of the 73 books of the Bible. What currently exist in museums and libraries (like the Vatican Library) are copies of copies of copies.

And not all copies agree or have the same verses. For example, some old copies have a longer ending for the gospel of Mark, others have a shorter ending. Some old copies have the woman caught in adultery in John chapter 8, other old copies omit it from John altogether. But if we don’t have an original set of the 73 books of the Bible, how do we know which oldest copies are inspired, and therefore to be trusted?

But do you see what is happening now? We have examined the poor Bible spread-eagle on the dissecting table, like we did with poor Kermit, and now we want to put it all back together again and return it to its natural habitat of the liturgy, and ask, “Which version of the Bible can we trust?” Practicioners of the historical-critical method might answer, paraphrasing Tina Turner, “What’s trust got to do, got to do with it?”

It is tantamount to declawing a cat and then putting it back out on the street to fend for itself; it will not survive. That is the danger of delving too deep with such scientific study. But to answer your question about which version of Mk 9:29 (with or without the phrase “and through fasting”) is correct and we should use, we rely on the Church to tell us which version is the inspired text.

And the Church, in its turn, relies on the repeated and traditional use of a text in the liturgy to determine which version is inspired. In other words, it is because the Church has used the shorter version of Mk 9:29, without the phrase “and through fasting” in the liturgy at Mass over two millennia that we feel confident that this is the authentic and accurate, and oldest, version of that verse.

When a Scripture passage thrives in its natural habitat of the liturgy – like when Kermit thrives in his natural habitat jumping on lilly-pads, and trying to eat flies, and not trying to date a pig – that we regain the mystery and properly-speaking the magic of Sacred Scripture. But when we only treat Scripture like a sterile object of scientific study, although such study may have ancillary benefits, it loses its original purpose and splendor. And the Bible, too, may sing Kermit’s melancholy melody, “It’s not easy being green.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Listen to Leviticus

Seeing scriptural roots of the universal destination of goods

02/22/2025

Matthew 16:13-19 When Jesus went into the region of Caesarea Philippi he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter said in reply, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus said to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

As advertised at the end of yesterday’s homily, I would like to continue our reflection on a little-known Catholic social principle called “the universal destination of goods” especially as it is found in Scripture. And how providential that today is essentially the feast day of all the popes, the Feast of the Chair of St. Peter. It is analogous to Presidents’ Day, where we honor all the presidents, not just one.

The Chair of St. Peter literally refers to the seat of his authority, that is, the grace to teach with authority, and on some occasions even infallibly. Two popes in the last 25 years have lived during jubilee years: Pope St. John Paul II in the year 2000, and today, Pope Francis in 2025. Think of jubilee years like a wedding anniversary, where you should do something special for your beautiful bride.

Both John Paul II and Francis exercised their papal magisterium, the authority of the Chair of St. Peter, by asking first world nations (like the United States) to forgive the debts owed to them by third world or developing nations. Let me quote what Pope St. John Paul II wrote in his apostolic exhortation called Ecclesia in America (The Church in America) as we approached the year 2000.

The pope-saint urged: “In light of the imminent great Jubilee of the year 2000, and recalling the social significance that jubilees had in the Old Testament, I wrote: ‘In the spirit of the Book of Leviticus (25:8-12) Christians will have to raise their voice on behalf of all the poor in the world, proposing the Jubilee as an appropriate time to give thought, among other things, to reducing substantially, if not canceling outright, the international debt which seriously threatens the future of many nations.”

In other words, the notion of canceling debts during a jubilee – a wedding anniversary – year, goes back to the Bible, in Leviticus. If you consider yourself a Bible Christian, you should listen carefully to what the popes are proposing. The popes are recommending an economic system that is not exactly capitalism, nor is it precisely socialism. Rather it’s what Scott Hahn calls familism. The family should be the highest priority and goal of economics.

Leviticus 25 – easy to remember because 25 is a jubilee or anniversary year – is a future-oriented text. It is written during the people’s year-long stay on Mt. Sinai. But it looks forward to when they will inherit the Promised Land 40 years later. When they come into the Promised Land led by Joshua, each of the 12 tribes of Israel will be apportioned a section of the country, to be forever its ancestral land. For example, a portion was allotted to Judah, to Naphtali, to Ephraim, to Dan, and Benjamin, etc., all except the tribe of Levi.

But Leviticus 25:8-12 stipulates that even if you sold your ancestral land, or incurred an insurmountable debt, on the 50th year of jubilee your land would be restored to your family. As Scarlett O’Hara said in the movie “Gone with the Wind,” “We’ll always have the land!” This familism of the Bible does not allow anyone to be reduced to penury.

Listen to Leviticus 25:10, “You shall treat the fiftieth year as sacred. You shall proclaim liberty in the land for all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you, when each of you shall return to your own property, each of you to your own family.” This verse touches the heart of the ancient social principle of the universal destination of goods, that is, before property belongs to anyone by buying or selling, or even by the government bequeathing it on someone, it belongs to God, and thus, it belongs to all his children.

Listening to Leviticus 25, the Catechism of the Catholic Church has modernized and distilled its lessons in no. 2403. It says: “The right to private property, acquired by work or received by others from inheritance, does not do away with the original gift of the earth to the whole of mankind. The universal destination of goods remains primordial, even if the promotion of the common good requires respect for the right to private property and its exercise.

In other words, while we must carefully balance the right to private property and the universal destination of goods, the latter remains primordial and even preeminent. Put it this way: when people immigrate to another country because they find themselves in dire circumstances, they are not seeking a privilege, they are exercising a right.

A good friend of mine in San Antonio keeps reminding me how complicated the real-life application of these two moral principles are. As we often say, “the devil is in the details.” But at least now we know what principles we must try to balance. That is, the right to private property is not the highest law in the land, no matter what Ayn Rand wrote in Atlas Shrugged. We should listen to Leviticus instead.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Are We Communists?

Understanding the moral principles behind immigration

02/22/2025

Mark 8:34—9:1 Jesus summoned the crowd with his disciples and said to them, "Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the Gospel will save it. What profit is there for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? What could one give in exchange for his life? Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this faithless and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his Father's glory with the holy angels." He also said to them, "Amen, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the Kingdom of God has come in power."

Sometimes I think that my dog Apollo would be a better disciple of Jesus Christ than I am. How’s that? Well, he is never ashamed to be seen with me, even when I go to the bathroom. I saw a funny cartoon last week. A guy walks into the bathroom and looks over to one wall, and there are movie-theater seats with his three dogs sitting there watching him. He says, “So, you guys have installed seats, now?” Dog disciples are never ashamed of their masters.

In the gospel today, Jesus invites us to be a little more “dogged” in our discipleship following him. He teaches, “Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this faithless and sinful generation the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his Father’s glory with his holy angels.”

And we can immediately think of at least two examples where his disciples ditched our Lord instead of doggedly following him. In John chapter 6, Jesus gives his scandalous teaching on eating his Body and drinking his Blood, the Eucharist, and many of his disciples abandoned him, feeling ashamed of his words.

And as our Lord approaches his passion and death, even his 12 apostles are ashamed to be associated with him. Peter goes so far as to exclaim, “I know not the man.” In such moments my dog Apollo would have been a better disciple of Jesus.

Today in our highly divided culture, certain issues can make us feel ashamed of Jesus and his gospel, and make us no longer stick close to his side. If you lean to the conservative side, then immigration, social justice, care for the environment may make you want to be a closet Catholic, and hide your faith.

If you lean left and liberal, then prolife, virtue ethics, the standards of justice and law may make you cringe and embarrassed to be with Jesus. In such moments, think of your dog, and watch his unflagging faithfulness to stick by your side, no matter where you go, even to the bathroom.

I want to add this morning another element in the dialogue – perhaps the debate – about immigration that has not been emphasized adequately, and is, perhaps, the most crucial point. In seminary, I learned about a Catholic moral principle called “the universal destination of goods.”

That is, there is a sense in which the goods of the world belong to everyone before they belong to anyone in particular. I remember turning to a seminary classmate when we learned this and said, “What are we Communists or something?”

Now, clearly the right to private property is a fundamental moral and social principle. There would be chaos without private property, and hence it serves as the basis of the 7th and 10th Commandments, “Thou shalt not steal, or covet thy neighbors goods.”

But the universal destination of goods is a necessary counter-point or balance to the right to private property. Both principles are necessary, but the universal destination of goods is primary, and can sometimes trump (pun intended) the right to private property.

Here’s an example. Take a man, a husband and a father of a family, who is facing starvation, because he has no means to support his family by honest work. And this is because he lives in a third-world country.

If he were to walk by a bakery, and saw and smelled the fresh baked bread inside, it would be morally permissible for him to take the bread even without paying for it. And this is in order to keep his children alive who are on the brink of death.

That suggestion may shock you, and make you feel like saying what I did in the seminary: “What are we Communists or something?” Now I don’t believe such a scenario exists within the United States. Indeed, here in Fort Smith, different agencies provide eight free meals a day.

But that scenario is exactly what is happening at the southern border. We are not just building a wall between two different countries and cultures. We are proposing a wall of separation between two fundamental moral principles: the universal destination of goods, and the right to private property.

So, when you see or hear of Catholic bishops championing the immigrant community, they are not just being flaming liberals or leftist Communists. They are very squarely Roman Catholic. And they are being more doggedly disciples of Jesus than you or I are. And my dog Apollo would agree with their stance.

Tomorrow morning I would like to share more about the Scriptural basis of this moral principle called “the universal destination of goods.” You are going to be really excited to hear that. Or, maybe that will make you feel ashamed of being Catholic. So ya’ll come back, hear?

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Cat in the Cartoon

Honoring and praying for presidents past and present

02/17/2025

Mark 8:11-13 The Pharisees came forward and began to argue with Jesus, seeking from him a sign from heaven to test him. He sighed from the depth of his spirit and said, “Why does this generation seek a sign? Amen, I say to you, no sign will be given to this generation.” Then he left them, got into the boat again, and went off to the other shore.

I saw a funny cartoon recently that seemed apropos for Presidents Day. A dog and a cat both arrived in heaven and are sitting on the floor looking at God who is seated on his glorious throne. God first turns to the dog and asks: “How did you live your life on earth?” The dog answers: “I fetched sticks, I obeyed my owner, and I barked at strangers who walked by.”

Then God turns to the cat and asks: “And how did you spend your life on earth?” The cat looks at God and says, “You’re sitting in my seat.” Anyone who owns a dog or a cat knows how true those two answers are. Dogs love to obey others while cats love to order others.

And this little cartoon is related to Presidents Day because in a sense every president feels a little like that cat. Obviously, no United States president is God. Still, the office of the president includes tremendous power – even if limited to the executive branch – and enormous respect (bordering on reverence) by the people, at least those who voted for him.

In other words, like the cat you have to have a pretty big ego to want to sit in the principal seat of the Oval Office. Like the cat in the cartoon the president is there to issue orders, like executive orders, and to run the country.

As you may know, Presidents Day was originally known as Washington’s Birthday, or simply celebrated in honor of George Washington, our first president. But later it was broadened to include all presidents, past and present. This date in February was chosen because it was the Monday closest to Washington’s real birthday on February 22, 1732.

But Presidents Day is also unlike the dog and cat cartoon because all the U.S. presidents have shown a healthy reluctance of serving too long. They tend to agree with the 19th century English historian Lord Acton, who believed: “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” That is, too much power can go to your head and make you lose your sense of being a president.

Hence, after Franklin Delano Roosevelt served 4 terms, the office of president could only be occupied by the same person for two terms. After all, we had fought the Revolutionary War to win freedom from monarchy – the rule of a king – and we did not want to return to that potentially tyrannical form of government.

Perhaps on this Presidents Day it would be helpful to recall another story about animals, not just a dog and a cat, but an entire farm. Back when I was in elementary school, our 8th grade teacher, Nancy Govang (whom I had a huge crush on) read to us a small allegory book called Animal Farm by George Orwell, written in 1945.

It was about a farm in which the animals revolt against their human masters – again kind of like the cat in the cartoon. The animals are led by a pig named Napoleon, who eventually manages to rid the farm of humans and establishes the rule of animals. Their revolutionary motto is: “Four legs good, two legs bad.”

But little by little the pigs in charge start to imitate the humans whom they had evicted. First the animals start to trade crops with their human neighbors. Then the pigs move into the house where the humans lived. Then, they start wearing human clothes and eat at the table where the people had dinner.

Toward the end, two horses are looking through the dining room window where the pigs and people are sharing a meal together. And as the horses looked from the faces of the pigs to the faces of the people, they could not tell them apart. In other words, the pigs had become exactly like the people they had fought to overthrow.

The pigs, therefore, had illustrated the truth of Lord Acton’s proverb: “power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Maybe we should hang a plaque with Lord Acton’s proverb over the doors to the Oval Office, and keep a copy of Animal Farm on the Resolute Desk.

In the gospel today, Jesus notices in the Pharisees a little of the spirit of the cat in the cartoon. They demand he perform a sign (a miracle) to prove his divine status. But Jesus refuses to reduce God’s miracles to the level of cheap parlor tricks to amuse dinner guests. You see, the Pharisees wanted to usurp God’s throne and his prerogatives. They wanted to order others, not to obey others, and they certainly did not want to obey Jesus.

Today on Presidents Day, we pray for the men – and perhaps one day the women – who occupy the Oval Office and serve as presidents of the United States of America. May each of them remember where we came from and the wars we fought to get here. And not get so comfortable sitting in the president’s chair that when they get to heaven, they say to God like the cat in the cartoon: “You’re sitting in my seat.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Music to My Ears

Sharing Bishop Taylor’s letter on immigration

02/16/2025

This weekend I want to share Bishop Taylor’s recent letter on immigration. To those who support our immigrants his letter will sound like “music to your ears”. To those who oppose our migrants, his letter may sound like “nails on a chalkboard”. So, for those of you for whom this letter will sound like nails, let me tell you what I do when I deal with people I don’t get along with.

I say a prayer for them, just one Hail Mary, when they’re really getting under my skin. And that Hail Mary does not just make me stop and take a deep breath. It helps me to see them as God sees them. And God see all of us – you and me, too – like small children who don’t know our right hand from our left. In other words, praying for someone fills my heart with compassion for that person.

The bishop addressed his letter “To all people of good will,” meaning to everyone, Catholics, non-Catholics, Republicans, Democrats, anyone with ears to hear. The bishop writes: “As you know, the contentious issue of immigration continues to dominate the public square, often without any serious consideration of what Jesus and our Christian faith has to say about this matter.” By the way, do we think about immigration as just a matter of politics or rather as a matter of faith? The bishop is saying immigration is very much a matter of faith.

The bishop continues: “It is my hope that our elected officials will have the courage and wisdom to do what is right, to do what Jesus would do – to do the loving thing. You may feel there is nothing you can do to change politicians’ minds. But the place to begin is with ourselves, our own hearts and our own parishes, and our own discomfort in dealing with another culture and immigrant group. And to not forget about the human dignity and the human rights of the other person.” You see, the bishop is trying to move the conversation from the political to the personal plane, and highlight our obligation to love each person.

He continues: “As you know, I’ve written a pastoral letter which you can download from the Diocese of Little Rock website. I have preached and taught on this issue throughout my time here as your bishop. And so, I don’t want to rehash all the Catholic principles that must be taken into account.

“Rather, I want to appeal to your hearts – to the reality that we are all brothers and sisters – including the 1/3 of Arkansas Catholics who worship in Spanish in 43 of our parishes. And right now, this Spanish speaking part of our body is hurting and living in fear.”

By the way, do you know that 50% of Immaculate Conception parish is Hispanic? There are as many people crammed into our two Spanish Masses as there are in the 4 English Masses every weekend. When we hear all the rhetoric about mass deportations, IC parishioners may be among the ones who might be deported. How can we not care what happens to them?

Bishop Taylor continues: “If you are living in fear today, I want you to know we stand in solidarity and in prayer with you. And if you’re not familiar with the parts of the body of Christ who are living in fear, I implore you to pray for them and try to find ways to get to know them. Find ways to help your fellow believers feel welcomed.” Hey, wait, the bishop just stole my line about praying for people you don’t get along with. I guess a bishop can do that.

Then the bishop quotes the parable of the sheep and goats: “In Matthew 25, Jesus tells us at the last judgment he will say to his chosen ones: ‘I was a stranger and you welcomed me…As often as you did it for one of my least brothers and sisters, you did it for me.’ And to others he will say, ‘As often as you neglected to do it to one of these least ones, you neglected to do it to me.’”

The bishop continues: “I could go into all the theological reasons behind the Church’s teaching on the rights of migrants, and all the arguments as to why our current immigration system is deeply broken. For example, many of us are under the mistaken impression that people who want to migrate to the United States can easily do so by getting in line. But for most people there really is no line, which is why circumstances forced them to come here without papers.

Then bishop gets more specific: “And anyone who’s tried to navigate the system can tell you how bureaucratic, complex, inconsistent, and expensive it really is – and that’s for people who have financial means and family or highly skilled employment-based connections!” By the way, my family came from India to the United States in 1976, and it was not easy nor was it cheap.

The bishop continues: “But all those arguments aside, what Jesus is challenging us to do here regarding immigration is to let him share his heart and mind with us. All that I’ve said in the past really boils down to Jesus’ call for us to love as he loves, without fear, trusting in God’s providence.” In other words, the bishop is asking us: do we have the Heart of Christ for immigrants?

He continues: “One of the most distinguishing features of our Catholic faith is that we are called to be ‘universal’ in fact as well as in name. This means that there must be no dividing lines within our parishes, no second-class parishioners – all are welcome, no exceptions. But there’s more to it than that.

He goes on: “You and I are being offered a unique and privileged opportunity to share the mind and heart of Jesus Christ, the same Jesus whom we honor with so many images of the Sacred Heart, his heart visible, crowned with thorns and on fire with love. And that’s who he now invites us to be, Christ for others.

And then the bishop concludes with this, saying: “In this, God will use us to be not only a light to our nation (enlightening others about human rights, about truth, about life), but also more importantly a source of love, love that banishes fear, love that brings hope and healing, and in this way become a model for what all of American society is called to be. /s/ Anthony B. Taylor, Bishop of Little Rock.”

Let me end on a personal note. As I said my family emigrated to the U.S. because we had money and someone sponsored us. But if my family had been poor, I never would have come to the U.S. I would not have been raised in Little Rock and discover a priestly vocation in high school. And I would not have been your pastor for the last 11 years. To some of you that may sound like nails on a chalkboard, but to others, it might sound like music to their ears.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Family Affair

Loving God and loving our neighbor

02/11/2025

Mark 7:1-13 When the Pharisees with some scribes who had come from Jerusalem gathered around Jesus, they observed that some of his disciples ate their meals with unclean, that is, unwashed, hands. (For the Pharisees and, in fact, all Jews, do not eat without carefully washing their hands, keeping the tradition of the elders. And on coming from the marketplace they do not eat without purifying themselves. And there are many other things that they have traditionally observed, the purification of cups and jugs and kettles and beds.) So the Pharisees and scribes questioned him, "Why do your disciples not follow the tradition of the elders but instead eat a meal with unclean hands?" He responded, "Well did Isaiah prophesy about you hypocrites, as it is written: This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines human precepts. You disregard God's commandment but cling to human tradition." He went on to say, "How well you have set aside the commandment of God in order to uphold your tradition! For Moses said, Honor your father and your mother, and Whoever curses father or mother shall die. Yet you say, 'If someone says to father or mother, "Any support you might have had from me is qorban"' (meaning, dedicated to God), you allow him to do nothing more for his father or mother. You nullify the word of God in favor of your tradition that you have handed on. And you do many such things.

In the Catholic Church we do lots of gestures at Mass that have a twofold purpose, both practical and spiritual. For example, we use incense at Mass because there are references to incense being offered by the angels in heaven in Ps 141 and Rv 8. That is the spiritual purpose of incense at Mass: we imitate on earth the angelic ministry in the heavenly liturgy.

But incense also serves a very practical purpose: its sweet aroma is not only appealing, it covers other not-so-pleasant odors. For instance, at the Basilica of Santiago de Compostela in Spain there is a huge, life-sized thurible that billows out incense filling the whole church with smoke. Why? Because the church is also filled with pilgrims who just walked 500 miles and had not taken a bath in weeks!

We see another spiritual/practical gesture when the priest washes his hands in the middle of Mass. Have you noticed that hand washing? Its spiritual side is captured by the words he whispers: “Lord, wash away my iniquities; cleanse me from my sins.” That ablution (washing), in other words, is a reminder of Baptism when water washed away our sins.

But it also served a practical purpose, at least in the past, when people offered not cash or checks (or Venmo) during the collection and at the presentation of the gifts, but brought forward eggs, and chickens, and other natural, farm products. The priest washed his hands because they were literally – and not just spiritually – dirty. I saw this little saying in a bathroom recently: “Wash your hands and say your prayer, Jesus and germs are everywhere.”

In the gospel today we see that Catholics inherited this twofold tradition from our Jewish ancestors. But Jesus teaches the Jews that they have so over-emphasized the spiritual meaning of liturgical gestures that they have all but forgotten the practical meaning. In a sense, the Jews have stressed the love of God (the spiritual) to the detriment of love of neighbor (the practical).

Jesus cites two examples: scrupulously washing hands, and the practice of qorban (giving to the Church while neglecting your parents). While these practices began with good intentions as reminders to balance both love of God and love of neighbor – they had deteriorated to an exclusively one-sided relevance. You could love God while ignoring your neighbor, or at its extreme application, you could love God even while hating your neighbor. That hypocrisy is what Jesus condemns.

We can see a family application of this delicate balance of love of God and love of neighbor, the spiritual and the practical sides of faith. That is, we often find it easy to love our parents but we fight bitterly with our brothers and sisters. But what do parents want more than anything in the world? They want their children to love each other.

How hypocritical it sounds in the ears of mom and dad when a son or daughter cozies up to them and says, “I love you mom and dad, but I cannot stand the sight of my sister!” That is exactly how the heart of our heavenly Father feels when we cozy up to him in prayer, at Mass, at Adoration, during the rosary, and whisper to God, “I love you Lord, but I cannot stand so-and-so.”

We cannot pit the love of God against the love of neighbor. They are two sides of the same coin of Christian faith. In other words, if you cannot love your neighbor, then you do not truly love God. Why? Because your neighbor is your brother and sister, and we are all children of God. Our faith is a family affair. And all good parents want their children to love each other.

Praised be Jesus Christ!