Monday, July 6, 2026

What the Rock’s Been Cooking

 



AI and the Theology of the Body, Part Four

07/06/2026

If you could invite any four people to your home for supper to discuss AI, who would make your guest list? You already know three on my AI guest list: Professor Ethan Mollick, author Vauhini Vara, and Professor Carissa Véliz. My fourth dinner guest would naturally be our Holy Father, Leo XIV. Why? As you may know he released a major encyclical on AI called “Magnifica Humanitas” on May 15, 2026. The ink is still wet from his signature on the encyclical.

Like a trained conversationalist, the pope happily acknowledges the valid points raised by his dinner companions. Leo agrees with the positive assessment of AI by Mollick, noting: “Technology should not be considered, in itself, as a force antagonistic to humanity” (no. 4). Leo would concur with the insights of Vauhini Vara about corporations driving innovations for financial gains, saying: “Today, however, the main drivers of development are private, often trasnational parties that are endowed with resources and the capacity to intervene that surpass those of many Governments” (no. 5).

Finally, Leo would nod positively with Carissa Véliz’ concerns of AI as a tool of despotism, stating gravely: “Yet precisely because of their power, [corporations] can also hasten the expansion of the technocratic paradigm. [But m]ore power does not necessarily imply something better” (no. 94).

Now when the pope opens his mouth to speak for the Church, he does not wax eloquent about the scientific, technological, or geopolitical implications of AI. Instead, he talks about humanity, the only area where the Church is truly expert. Hence, the title of his encyclical is “Magnifica Humanitas” or “The Grandeur of Humanity.” The basis of the Church’s confidence in speaking about humanity stems from the fact that Jesus came to reveal not only who God is, but also who man is.

Thus, in his opening paragraph, Leo quotes Vatican II’s groundbreaking document Gaudium et spes, which states: “It is only in the mystery of the Word made Flesh [Jesus] that the mystery of humanity truly becomes clear” (no. 22). We might say the grandeur of humanity is the dish the pope brings to my AI potluck dinner (because I can’t cook).

Leo XIV is fully cognizant that he stands on the shoulders of giants, especially his namesake, Leo XIII. Thus, in chapter one he outlines the rich heritage of Catholic social doctrine elaborated by the popes of the 20th and 21st centuries. Leo distills 5 principles for Catholic social teaching from his papal predecessors: (1) the common good, (2) the universal destination of goods, (3) subsidiarity, (4) solidarity, and (5) social justice.

That is, only when we transform these 5 abstract principles into concrete action on the personal, national, and international levels do we fully protect and promote “the grandeur of humanity.” Or, as Dwayne Johnson, the wrestler known as the Rock, dramatically said: “Can you smell what the Rock’s been cooking?” After all, Leo is the successor of St. Peter, the rock on which Jesus built his Church. The Rock, therefore, has always been cooking.

Pope Leo’s dish for our AI dinner helps us to taste two new issues regarding AI: first, transhumanism and posthumanism, and second, how a new colonialism brings behind it a new slavery. Here’s how Leo puts the first issue: “In general, transhumanism envisions the enhancement of human beings through technologies – such as biomedicine, body-engineering, devices, and algorithms – with the aim of increasing performance and capabilities.”

He continues on this same front: “Post-humanism, especially in its more radical forms, goes further: it challenges an anthropocentrism and envisions a hybridization of human beings, machines and the environment, even anticipating a threshold where humanity surpasses itself in a new evolutionary stage” (no. 116). We might compare transhumanism and posthumanism to Clark Kent stepping into the phone booth to become Superman. AI proposes to help man undergo an evolutionary leap kind of like when man went from monkeys to humans.

Secondly, Leo points out how a new form of colonialism and

slavery of the poor is emerging: “A significant part of the digital economy’s functioning relies on the silent work of millions of people engaged in essential but largely unseen activities, such as data labeling, model training, and content moderation, often involving disturbing material. In many cases, these workers are young people, predominantly women, working under demanding conditions for minimal wages.”

Leo keeps cooking: “In some regions of the world children and adolescents work in dangerous conditions crushing the materials from which rare earth elements are extracted [required for the production of devices and microprocessors on which AI depends]” (no. 173). If this trajectory does not change course, Leo predicts: “The digital age, will not be post-colonial, but colonial in another form” (no. 178). In other words, you and I may enjoy the benefits of the latest Iphone or Android, but that comes at the cost of the virtual slavery of millions of people in developing countries, especially women and children.

Again John Paul’s theology of the body not only reinforces Leo’s criticisms of AI but sort of raises them to a higher pitch. How so? John Paul observes that man’s perennial desire to overcome death – the underly motive of transhumanism and post-humanism – will only be achieved in the resurrection of the body. The Polish pope agrees that man is called to a transhuman and post-human destiny which he calls “divinization”.

He writes: “The divinization of the ‘other world’ indicated by Christ’s words will bring to the human spirit such a ‘range of experiences’ of truth and love that man would never have been able to reach it in [his] earthly life” (393). Divinization, the pope contends, can only be received as a gift of God. That is, unlike what AI asserts, we cannot pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. John Paul also proposes we cannot receive this transhumanization (or divinization) without loving our neighbor, especially the poor.

In other words, we cannot climb to heaven by stomping on our neighbor’s head. John Paul explains: “And for this reason, [the love of neighbor] we profess faith in the ‘communion of saints’ (communio sanctorum) and profess it in organic connection with faith in the ‘resurrection of the body’” (396). That is, if the road to transhumanism and posthumanism runs rough shod over and tramples the bodies of God’s children (in a new colonialism and slavery), it will not lead to eternal divinization but to eternal damnation.

Both Pope John Paul II and Pope Leo XIV are successors of St. Peter, who was the rock on which Jesus built his Church. And Jesus promised that the gates of Hades would not prevail against the Church because “the rock” would speak in every age with the authority of Christ himself. In that sense, John Paul II’s “theology of the body” and Leo’s encyclical “Magnifica Humanitas” are exactly “what the rock’s been cooking” regarding artificial intelligence. Bon appetit.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Dominate Us or Die for Us

 


AI and the Theology of the Body, Part Three

07/02/2026

A third author we want to include in our conversation about AI and the theology of the body is Dr. Carissa Véliz. She’s a professor of philosophy at Oxford, and unsurprisingly very articulate, thoughtful, kind, and she also did not mince words. And of our three interlocutors so far, she’s the toughest and most pessimistic about AI. Is it only a coincidence that the one person in favor of AI was a white male who teaches business while the two pessimists are minority females: an India reporter and a Hispanic professor?

Professor Véliz gives numerous examples where biases were evident in AI results. She writes in her 2026 book, "Prophesy": “Another reason [algorithms are unfair] is that most of these algorithms are fed with historical data, and racism is baked into it…” She continues: “Predictive algorithms identify correlations, and not being white is associated with having fewer opportunities” (137). Carissa Véliz is arguing we should learn from history – as AI does because data is typically historical – but we should not get stuck in the past. Like the old definition of insanity: you keep doing the same thing and hoping for a different result.

The full title of Professors Véliz’ book, though, “Prophecy: Prediction, Power, the Fight for the Future, from Ancient Oracles to AI,” suggests a darker and more sinister reason for the rise of AI, namely, dominance, or the word she more frequently uses “despotism.” She explains how predicting what you and I will do next is highly lucrative. She argues: “In the data economy, we are being surveilled…Our data is feeding the machines deciding our futures” (140).

She gets more specific: “Data brokers all over the world have a data file on you. It contains information like your name, age, gender, income, education, and occupation. Data brokers…track family life events like marriages, divorces, funerals, and pregnancies…They track your location, which allows them to know where you live, where you work, how well you drive (Fort Smith drivers are in big trouble), whether you are buying drugs, or going to a psychologist, or attending a family planning clinic, whether you are having an affair (through patterns like two phones coming together in a hotel every week)” (141).

And here’s the financial ROI for all the surveillance and data mining: “They then ‘add value’ by predicting what you’ll do next and selling that to the highest bidder” (141). Recently I was talking to several priests about why it takes the pope sometimes a long time to appoint a new bishop to a diocese. One priest remaked along the lines of Professors Véliz’s point: “Some priests turn down episcopal appointments because unlike the past when sins were forgiven and forgotten, today sins are forgiven and never forgotten.”

Now all that sounds pretty bad, but Professor Véliz believes things are much worse, arguing that AI is being used not only to make money but to consolidate power. She insists: “The act of surveillance is an act of despotism.” She elaborates: “Surveillance creates asymmetries of power, because the surveilled (you and I on our phones) is at the mercy of the watcher [AI]. The more information the watcher [AI] has on their subject, the more power they have over them, and the easier it becomes to predict and influence their behavior. There is no surveillance for the sake of it. Surveillance makes no sense without predicting and an intention to control” (144-45). She cites the totalitarian regimes of the Soviet Union and China as illustrations of the striking similarities between “authoritarian states” and “authoritarian corporations” (149). Sort of makes you want to go and live on Gilligan’s Island, doesn’t it?

Once again the theology of the body comes to our rescue and helps us separate the wheat from the chaff of artificial intelligence. On the one hand AI can be “wheat’ in the way it surveils us. How so? Well, surveillance doesn’t have to be creepy. For example, parents diligently surveil their babies, gawking at every move, taking pictures of their first steps, and even putting cameras in the corners of the bedroom in case anything goes wrong at night. Young lovers surveil each other while on romantic dates and cannot take their eyes off each other (or their hands). They cannot bear to be apart, even for a moment. God, for his part, is constantly vigilant for his children. Psalm 139 asks: “Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to the highest heavens you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.” It is good to be super-sensitive, therefore, to AI’s constant surveillance, because it reminds us of God’s omnipresence and omniscience. God's unwaveringly gaze upon us.

But John Paul also reminds us God does not surveil us for the sake of dominating us, but rather for the sake of dying for us as a Spouse. John Paul touches on one of the touchiest passage of Scripture, Ep 5:22, which reads: “Wives be subject to your husbands as you are to the Lord.” You know how all brides love to plaster that passage on their wedding cakes. The pope-saint immediately clarifies: “When [St. Paul] expresses himself in this way, [he] does not intend to say that the husband is the ‘master’ of the wife and that the interpersonal covenant proper to marriage is a contract of domination by the husband over the wife.” Then the Holy Father adds a little later: “This relationship is…not one-sided submission…Husband and wife are, in fact, subject to one another.”

Then he reveals the root of this mutual submission: “Christ is the source and at the same time the model of that submission – which confers on the conjugal union a deep and mature character” (474). In other words, if you want to know why God surveils us, we only have to look at the cross. God watches over us not to dominate us but to die for us. That death to self is how Jesus loves his Bride, the Church – he cannot take his eyes and hands off us – and that death to self is how husbands and wives should love each other. And that dynamic is the exact opposite of how AI interacts with us. That is, AI surveils us to dominate us; Jesus surveils us to die for us.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Monday, June 29, 2026

No Strings Attached

 



AI and the Theology of the Body, Part Two

06/29/2026

Today we continue our conversation about AI and the theology of the body by turning to someone who is not as enthusiastic about AI as Ethan Mollick was, namely, Vauhini Vara. She’s a little bit like me because her parents are immigrants from India but she was raised in Saskatchewan, Canada, studied at Stanford, was a writer for the Wall Street Journal, and now lives with her husband and son in Colorado Springs, Colorado. If you ever see and hear her speak, it’s like the surprise of first seeing and hearing me speak: the face and the voice don’t quite match.

Recently I read her book on AI called "Searches: Selfhood in the Digital Age,” published in 2025. What I appreciated about her book is that Vauhini is honest and balanced in her criticism of AI. For example, she admits: “I could live without ChatGPT, but I don’t. This is true, too, of Google’s products – not just search, but also Google’s email, mapping, browser, file-storage, and word-processing services, the latter of which I used to compose the words you’re reading – as well as those of Amazon, Meta, X, and Apple” (273). In other words, tech giants know that human beings (like Vauhini) have addictive personalities. Once we develop a habit of doing something we can’t stop no matter how much we may want to.

Later she monologues to her husband about something she calls “technological capitalism.” She shared: “I talked about how the trick of technological capitalism is the trick of capitalism: we allow it to grossly benefit rich and powerful institutions and the human beings with disproportionate investment in those institutions because it also benefits us – if only a little, relatively-speaking” (275). That is, entrepreneurs are investing billions of dollars in developing AI because they expect to make trillions of dollars in return. And it improves our lives – “if only a little, relatively-speaking.”

Now, I don’t want to argue against capitalism (although Vauhini might be), because a big part of the blessings my family enjoys today is thanks to a capitalistic economy. I don’t want to saw off from the tree the branch I’m sitting on. My bone of contention against AI is much smaller and subtler. Vauhini makes a valid point that no matter how human and helpful AI chatbot will appear or function, tech billionaire puppeteers are inevitably pulling the strings making AIs dance. And being a puppet of tech corporations – whose chief interest is financial – is precisely where the theology of the body helps us detect their lack of humanity. AIs are puppets not persons.

Human beings, insists John Paul II, are persons not puppets because we are created in the image of God, and therefore we are absolutely free. That is, there are no strings attached. But God gave us that freedom from strings so we could make a free gift of ourselves to others and ultimately to God. Becoming a free gift to others and to God is the definition of love. And that is the fundamental reason why an AI robot will never be fully identical to a human being: puppets always come with strings attached, and those strings make them dance so the entrepreneurial puppeteers can make a bunch of money.

In his theology of the body, John Paul first points out how God created everything to be a gift because God’s only motivation was love (not money). John Paul reflects deeply on creation in Genesis: “As an action of God, creation thus means not only calling from nothing into existence and establishing the world’s existence as well as man’s existence in the world…it also signifies gift, a fundamental and radical gift, that is, an act of giving in which the gift comes into being precisely from nothing” (180). The reason God made everything, therefore, is because he is love and he wanted to make a free gift of himself. He really can’t help himself.

And then John Paul turns to man and his bodiliness to assert that man and woman were created as male and female as the supreme example of God’s love and gift: “This is the body: a witness to creation as a fundamental gift, and therefore a witness to Love as the source from which this same giving springs. Masculinity and femininity – namely, sex – is the original sign of a creative donation” (183). In other words, AI engineers create puppets that do their bidding and are not free to do otherwise. Why not? Because then they wouldn’t make any money.

On the other hand, God creates children in his image who are free to love and give themselves as gifts to others. Like the old adage: “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree.” This, then, is a second difference we discover between AI and human beings: both are created in the image of their creators. AI robots are created to generate income for their puppeteers. Human beings are created to give glory to our heavenly Father by becoming a gift. Both AI robots and human beings may look and act virtually identical, but only in the latter case are there no strings attached.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Shadow of Man

 



AI and the Theology of the Body, Part One

06/27/2026

Over the course of the next few morning Masses, I want to share some homilies about AI understood in terms of John Paul II’s theology of the body. You may have seen that I am giving some presentations on the theology of the body to different groups, and last night I spoke to 32 Hispanic teenagers. And they didn’t fall asleep! I believe Pope John Paul II has given us a new language to talk about what it means to be truly human and it can help us understand artificial intelligence better and see how it is not human.

One fascinating and informative book on AI is called Co-Intelligence by Ethan Mollick, a business professor at the prestigious Wharton School of Business. His book written in 2024, is a New York Times Bestseller, so lots of people have read it and find it useful. I did too. And by the way, Professor Mollick strongly advocates using AI as a thought-partner and requires his students to harness the full potential of AI. Ethan Mollick, for one, does not believe AI is a doomsday machine. It will not destroy humanity.

I was particularly intrigued by chapter 4 called “AI as a Person.” Now, Mollick makes it clear that AI is not a person with consciousness, but he also states that it’s almost impossible to tell that AI is not a person. Mollick writes: “AI doesn’t act like software, but it does act like a human being. I’m not suggesting that AI systems are sentient like humans, or that they ever will be. Instead, I’m proposing a pragmatic approach: treat AI as if it were human because, in many ways, it behaves like one” (66).

Have you ever heard of the Duck Test? When you’re trying to figure out what some new object is, you might apply the duck test and ask: “If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck.” In other words, we cannot really know if something is a duck except by observing its external characteristic (its looks) and its habitual behavior (swimming). And Mollick applies the duck test to AI to discover if it’s human: if it looks, swims, and quacks like a human, then for all pragmatic purposes the AI is human.

Mollick explains how scientists have tried to tell the difference between man and computers since the 1950’s, with the Turing Test, which was a lot like the Duck Test. Mollick writes: “In his 1950 paper ‘Computing Machinery and Intelligence,” [Alan] Turing described a game he called the Imitation Game (they made a movie about it), in which a human interrogator would communicate with two hidden players, a human and a machine. The interrogator’s task was to determine which player was which, based on their responses to questions” (71).

Mollick admits that the Turing Test was rather primitive and the newest ChatGPT models of machine intelligence are far superior. And yet the principle at work in the Turning Test – the same operative in the Duck Test – was still valid. In fact, some people interacting with their modern day chatbots have fallen in love with them. Mollick notes: “Some users have even considered themselves ‘married’ to their [chatbots] or have fallen in love with them” (88). Again, if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then who cares if it’s not really a duck? The chatbot is "human enough" for me.

And this is precisely the point where Pope John Paul II would part company with Ethan Mollick, namely, John Paul maintains that it is possible to pass the Turing Test (or the Duck Test) because a human being is both a body and a soul. Now, a human being is not a soul that has a body, or is artificially or temporarily connect or fitted with a body. A human being is a body-soul composite. In fact, that is how we define death: the violent separation of the body and the soul. And that’s why Christians believe in the resurrection of the body: the happy reunion of the body and soul in heaven.

By the way, this is why we are scared of both ghosts and zombies. Have you noticed this visceral fear? A ghost is a soul without a body, and a zombie is a body without a soul. Both conditions horrify us because we know each is only half-human, that is, body and soul belong inseparably together. Such a union is not necessary for an AI chatbot joined to a robot. Hollywood will not make horror movies about AI chatbots violently separated fro their robotic housing units. Why not? Because we will yawn and just change the channel to watch reruns of Gilligan’s Island.

John Paul puts is like this: “Man is a [human] subject not only by his self-consciousness and by self-determination but also based on his body. The structure of this body [and soul] is such that is permits him to be the author of genuinely human activity. In this activity, the body expresses the person” (154). In other words, you can pass the Turing and Duck Tests by the Ghost and Zombie Test. Somewhere deep in our hearts we intuit and know it is not “human enough” to just be an AI chatbot, or a really gorgeous robot, or even an artificial and temporary union of the two. Why not? Because the true human is “the shadow of God”, while the AI-robot is merely “the shadow of man”.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Thursday, June 18, 2026

Enemy or Frenemy

 



Learning to pray for and love our enemies

06/16/2026

Matthew 5:43-48 Jesus said to his disciples: "You have heard that it was said, You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what recompense will you have? Do not the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brothers only, what is unusual about that? Do not the pagans do the same? So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect."

A couple of years ago I was talking with Deacon Charlie about how my dog, Apollo, loves to chase squirrels. I said squirrels are Apollo’s archenemies. But Dc. Charlie gently corrected me, and said: “They are probably more like ‘frenemies’.” Have you ever heard that word before: frenemies? It took me a moment to catch it, but I quickly realized the word “frenemy” is a compound of two words, “friend” and “enemy.” And that is exactly how Apollo looked at squirrels: as frenemies, as double-agents, whom he loved and hated.

In the gospel today we continue hearing sections of Jesus’ magnificent Sermon on the Mount. We are in the middle of the portion called “the six antithesis,” where Jesus contrasts what the Old Testament taught wit his own New Testament teachings. And today he teaches us about our frenemies like Dc. Charlie taught me and Apollo. So, our Lord says: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

Can you hear how Jesus raises the Christian bar of moral behavior by introducing the idea of frenemies? In other words, Apollo relentlessly chased squirrels to catch them – he had no clue what he would do if he ever caught one – but he secretly loved the chase and the friendly competition. In like manner, we should treat our enemies with a secret admiration and love. How so? Well, we can start to love them by praying for them. You cannot pray for someone and truly hate them simultaneously. The human heart is not big enough for both feelings.

Here’s another way to love our enemies by seeing them as our frenemies. One day Fr. Daniel Velasco and I were watching TV and we were talking about “the big 3” the GOATS of Federer, Nadal, and Djokovic. And I remarked: “Imagine how great one of them could have been if the other two had not lived at the same time!” And Fr. Daniel replied: “It’s precisely because the other two lived at the same time, and pushed each other to excel, that each became a legend.” That is, they were both enemies and friends who challenged each other to greater heights of tennis.

Here’s yet another illustration of how to love our enemies because they’re really our frenemies. In the 2,000 year history of the Church there have been 21 ecumenical councils, when the pope and the world’s bishops gathered to discuss doctrine and discipline. But do you know what invariably sparked the need for the council? It can be summed up in one word: heretics, that is, people who don’t believe the true faith. Or, to put it in modern parlance: the enemies of the faith.

But in retrospect, those heretics, those enemies, really turned out to be our frenemies. How so? They caused us, indeed they forced us, to refine and perfect our understandings of the faith. For example, the First Council of Nicea in 325, responding to the Arian heresy, defined that Jesus was truly God and truly Man, something that Arius had disputed.  In hindsight, we might call Arius not a heretic but a frenemy because he caused the Church to deepen our faith and to defend and love it even more.

Today take a moment to call to mind the people you might consider your enemies. Perhaps we think of Iran and terrorists as our enemies. Or maybe we categorize our political opponents as our enemies: Democrats or Republicans. Or maybe our competitors in business are our enemies and we try to sell more widgets than they do.

Or, maybe if your have a dog like Apollo, then you think of those dastardly squirrels as your archenemies. Or maybe your nosey and ne’er-do-well neighbor, or your ex-spouse is your enemy. Once you have these enemies squarely in your mind, let me invite you to do two things today. First, pray for your enemies. I offer the first decade of the rosary for my so-called enemies.

And second, see how your enemies force you to become better: a better American, a better Republican or Democrat, a better businessman, a better dog, a better neighbor, a better spouse, and even a better Church. Maybe Dc. Charlie was right and our archenemies are really our archfrenemies. And we should thank God for them.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Wednesday, June 10, 2026

Our Hearts Are Restless

 



Learning to love the Eucharist more than anything

06/07/2026

John 6:51-58 Jesus said to the Jewish crowds: "I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world." The Jews quarreled among themselves, saying, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" Jesus said to them, "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.  Just as the living Father sent me and I have life because of the Father, so also the one who feeds on me will have life because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Unlike your ancestors who ate and still died, whoever eats this bread will live forever."

Do you have a love hate relationship with food? There are some foods you really love – like a juice steak – and others you really hate – like liver and onions. And sometimes we love and hate the exact same food, like cheesecake. Because after a huge piece of it, we later look down, and say, “A minute on the lips, a lifetime on the hips!”

Today we celebrate the Body and Blood of Jesus, our Eucharistic Food, and so we must ask: do we have a love-hate relationship with Mass? How’s that possible? Well, when we are an 8-year-old and make our First Holy Communion, we love the Eucharist. But when we are 20-years-olds in college, we moan and groan, “Ugh! Why do I have to go to Mass?!” And we usually don’t go.

Today, I want to give you four reasons to love the Eucharist. First, if you listen closely to your heart, you will discover that it loves the Eucharist more than anything. Why? Simple: because the Eucharist is Jesus Himself. And our hearts were made for Christ. As St. Augustine famously said: “Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.”

When I was in high school I had the habit of going to 6:45 a.m. Mass at the Carmelite Monastery in Little Rock. Now, to get to the monastery, I had to drive across town and that usually made me a few minutes late. One day, late as usual, I tried to sneak unnoticed into my pew and Fr. George Tribou, the priest, glared at me over his glasses. I thought: “Give me a brake! I just brought the average age of the congregation down by 50 years!”

Here at I.C. we have 7 a.m. Mass every morning, and I too see young people at morning Mass (sometimes they’re late too). I’ve seen Jackson Dart, Jordan Dart (now Smith), Hailey Hadley, Eva Edwards, Daniela Hernandez, and Lindsay Harris. Several years ago Taylor Wewers (now Bagsby) used to drag her little brothers, Matthew and Michael to Mass. And poor Michael would be half asleep with his head on the pew in front of him.

Maybe their heads didn’t know exactly why they came, but their hearts were restless until they rested in Jesus. I used to take Communion to Dr. Jim Post who was 101 years old. And when I gave him Holy Communion, tears would run down his cheeks. One day, we will all weep with joy to receive the Eucharist, and we will all weep with sorrow for the Sundays we missed Mass.

A second reason we love the Eucharist is because it is the Food of eternal life. Now, all food helps us to live longer: that’s why we eat. And the healthier the food, the longer we will live. Well, the Bread and Wine of the Eucharist is designed as food to give us eternal life. How does it do that?

Because what we eat in Holy Communion is Jesus’ resurrected Body. That blessed Bread doesn’t become Jesus’ earthly Body like when he walked around Palestine 2,000 years ago. Rather it is his heavenly Body as it is today in glory. And because our bodies are filled with Jesus’ resurrected Body, our bodies will rise from the dead, too.

In other words, the Eucharist gives us something no other food can, no matter how healthy, namely, everlasting life. Every funeral, therefore, is filled with the hope of resurrection because that deceased person ate the Bread of Life. The second reason you should love the Eucharist is because it is the Medicine of immortality; it raises the dead.

The third reason to love the Eucharist is because this is our weekly opportunity to say thank you to God for everything we have. In 1 Co 4:7 St. Paul rhetorically asks the Corinthians: “What do you have that you have not received?” The correct answer is: “nothing.” Everything, even our bodies, our talents, and our next breath is a gift from God. Every day is Christmas! And therefore, the right response to a Christmas present is gratitude.

Last week I received many cards and notes telling me “thank you” for being a priest for 30 years. But I too feel a deep debt of gratitude to God. Why? Well, because these past 30 years are not my work but the work of God’s grace in me. The priesthood is God’s Christmas present to me, and to you.

We come to Mass to say thanks because everything is a gift. Or maybe we skip Mass because we think everything is not a gift. What a stupendous error. But ask yourself: “What do you have that you have not received?” The third reason to love the Mass, therefore, is it is out thanksgiving for everything.

The fourth reason to love the Eucharist is because Pope John Paul II called the Eucharist, “the sacrament of the Bride and Groom.” He explained: “For in the Eucharist Jesus Christ and his Bride become one flesh, analogous to the way husband and wife become one flesh in the conjugal act.” Have you ever wondered why all little girls dress up like brides with veils when they make their first Holy Communion?

That cute dress is no accident but announces a marvelous mystery: we the Church are the Bride, and we become one flesh with Christ, our Groom because we eat his Flesh. That’s why some Catholics prefer to receive Communion on the tongue, like newlyweds put a small piece of cake on each other’s tongues. We love the Mass because it makes us one with Christ, who's not only our Savior but also our Spouse.

We all have a love-hate relationship with food, and that can carry over to the Mass. But one day we will love the Eucharist more than life itself, because the Eucharist is Jesus, and he is larger than life itself. Archbishop Fulton Sheen once said: “Once you understand the Eucharist, you can never leave the Church. Not because the Church won’t let you, but because your heart won’t let you.” And maybe that’s why I got up early to go to Mass as a teenager, even if I got there late. “Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Expectant Fathers

 



Understanding leadership as an exercise of love

05/30/2026

Mark 11:27-33 Jesus and his disciples returned once more to Jerusalem. As he was walking in the temple area, the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders approached him and said to him, “By what authority are you doing these things? Or who gave you this authority to do them?” Jesus said to them, “I shall ask you one question. Answer me, and I will tell you by what authority I do these things. Was John’s baptism of heavenly or of human origin? Answer me.” They discussed this among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘Of heavenly origin,’ he will say, ‘Then why did you not believe him?’ But shall we say, ‘Of human origin’?”–  they feared the crowd, for they all thought John really was a prophet. So they said to Jesus in reply, “We do not know.” Then Jesus said to them, “Neither shall I tell you by what authority I do these things.”

John Maxwell, in his book “Developing the Leader Within You” tells the story of a chairman of the board who was running late for a meeting. He bolted into the boardroom and took a seat closest to the door. A junior executive objected, saying: “Please sir, you should sit at the head of the table.” The chairman who had a healthy grasp of leadership replied, “Son, wherever I sit is the head of the table.” In other words, true leadership does not need the head of the table, but a heart of service and mission.

I recently re-read Pope St. John Paul II’s inaugural homily at his first Mass delivered on October 22, 1978. Some of you might remember it, when he famously urged: “Do not be afraid. Open the doors to Christ.” Less famously, he noted in that homily: “In past centuries, when the Successor of Peter took possession of his See, the triregnum or tiara was placed on his head.”

He continued: “Pope John Paul I, whose memory is so vivid in our hearts, did not wish to have the tiara, nor does his Successor wish it today.” Then the new Holy Father reflected briefly on the history of power wielded in the Church by adding: “Perhaps, in the past, this tiara, this triple crown, was placed on the pope’s head in order to express by that symbol…sacred power.”

But then he clarified the true nature of sacred power: “The absolute and yet sweet and gentle power of the Lord…does not speak the language of force but expresses itself in charity and truth.” That is, the pope, like the humble but tardy chairman of the board, does not need tiaras or special seats to exercise his leadership because true leadership is the exercise of love.

In the gospel today, the chief priests, scribes and the elders challenge Jesus about who possesses true authority, real power. They want to know where are the external signs that signify the source of Jesus authority. Where is his seat at the boardroom table? They don’t see any triple crown on his head.

And the reason Jesus seems to dodge their question is because they know nothing about the leadership of love, nor are they interested. That is, leadership is not ultimately about power but about service and love. Indeed, as Jesus will soon demonstrate on the cross, leadership means dying for those you lead: leadership does not bring personal gain, but personal loss.

Today is a historic day in the life of our diocese – do you know why? Because 5 new leaders will be ordained as priests, and one of them is our beloved Dc. Christopher, who will return to us as Fr. Christopher. All five of our new priests should read, reflect, and pray deeply over that inaugural homily of Pope St. John Paul II on the nature of true leadership. Why?

These five new priests – new church leaders - will not place the triple crown on their heads as pope, but they will soon assume the seat at the head of the eucharistic table. That is, they will lead the people of God in the celebration of the eucharistic liturgy as the priest-celebrant, an exercise of the deepest love of the Savior.

Let me share how the pope-saint ended his homily back in 1978, long before our 5 new priests were born, or their parents were even married. John Paul begged humbly: “And I also appeal to all men – to every man (and with what veneration the apostle of Christ must utter this word, ‘man’!) – pray for me! Help me to be able to serve you! Amen.”

If there is one lesson the pontificate of John Paul II left as a legacy for the Church and the world it is that leadership means love, and more, it means sacrificial love; indeed, death to self so that others might live.” Perhaps we can follow our late pope’s advice and pray for our soon-to-be fathers. I remember in seminary in our last year as deacons we all got t-shirts that had written on the front: “Expectant Fathers.”

And we deacons were indeed filled with great expectations as future fathers, not only for ourselves as priests, but also for you, the People of God, whom we would serve. Today, on the ordination day of 5 new priests – 5 new leaders – for our diocese, may our prayers for them be filled to overflowing with great expectations for them and for us. What expectations? That they be an icon of the love of the heavenly Father, reflected in his incarnate Son on the Cross, and shining and serving with the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

Name a Church for Fr. John

 



Understanding the Catholic devotion to Mary

05-25-2026

Acts 1:12-14 After Jesus had been taken up to heaven, the Apostles returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day’s journey away. When they entered the city they went to the upper room where they were staying, Peter and John and James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. All these devoted themselves with one accord to prayer, together with some women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers.

Occasionally I give a talk to the OCIA class to describe the differences between Catholics and Protestants. Since the OCIA is full of folks who have largely been raised Protestant and are now interested in Catholicism, I figure they better know what they’re getting into: how deep the water is before they jump into the Catholic swimming pool.  And I use the analogy of $300 trillion.

Don’t get excited. I don’t say Catholics have $300 trillion and Protestants don’t. It’s the other way around. First, I invite them to think about salvation by using a monetary metaphor. All Christians agree that salvation consists of everything Jesus suffered, died, and rose on the third day to give us. Jesus’ crucifixion, death, and resurrection constitute the sum and substance of salvation.

Now, for the sake of my talk, we will call that salvation $300 trillion. Think of $300 trillion as a thought picture, a metaphor, which we substitute for salvation. Now, I suppose some people may prefer the money instead of salvation, but I hope you get my point. Even though all Christians agree on what salvation is – here substitute the $300 trillion – Catholics and Protestants sharply disagree on how we get it.

For most Protestants, you get the whole of salvation – again think $300 trillion – by a sincere act of faith. You accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior, and in that instant you are saved. Or, substituting our monetary metaphor, they receive the whole $300 trillion, without one penny left over. With me, so far? Now, Catholics believe you get that salvation that Jesus died and rose to give us quite differently.

We believe Jesus entrusted salvation – again substitute $300 trillion – to the Church, kind of like a bank. And the Church distributes the graces of salvation little by little. We get some of the $300 trillion when we are baptized, we get more when we attend Mass, and more when we pray before meals, when we help the poor, when we do penance, and make personal sacrifices. That is, we don’t get the whole $300 trillion at once, but rather piecemeal.

Now, if you can wrap your mind around this monetary metaphor of salvation as $300 trillion, you begin to see why Catholics and Protestants see Christianity so differently. For example, Protestants can tell you the day and the hour they were saved. It was the moment they accepted Christ as their personal Lord and Savior. Using our monetary metaphor, that was the moment they won $300 trillion. You would remember the day you won the Chicago lottery!

Catholics, by contrast, have a hard time trying to answer the seemingly simple question, “Have you been saved?” Most Catholics stammer and stutter trying to give a coherent come back. The best answer is: “I’ll tell you the day I die.” Why? Because only at the end of our earthly life will we know whether we have been greedy enough for grace or not.

St. Paul taught the Philippians the same truth, urging them: “Work out your salvation in fear and trembling” (Phil 2:12). In other words, go frequently to the bank, the Church, and withdraw the graces of salvation. But we’re not very greedy for grace. This monetary metaphor also sheds light on the Catholic devotion to the saints and why that makes most Protestant cringe.

Catholics believe the saints were super greedy for grace, so we want to imitate them in that holy desire. St. Peter had, say, $300 million, St. Paul had $350 million, Mother Teresa $100 million, St. John Paul II perhaps $200 million. You and I? We have about 75 cents. But for Protestants saints are not so special. Why not?

Because if they have been saved, they have the whole $300 trillion. If they have not been saved, how much do they have? Zero. In the Protestant universe there are only two kinds of people: those who have been saved, and those who have not been saved; those with $300 trillion in their pockets, and those with nothing in their spiritual pockets.

And that’s why Catholics name churches for saints, like St. Boniface, while Protestants name church “Harvest Time,” or “New Life,” or “Community Bible.” How we name churches is not incidental but reflects a much deeper theology of how to be saved and what it means to be a Christian. And in some respects, the Catholic and Protestant worldviews are radically different and virtually irreconcilable.

Today, we celebrate the Memorial of Mary, Mother of the Church, yet ANOTHER feast in honor of the Blessed Virgin. What is up with these crazy Catholics? Why are they so hung up on Mary? Why do they name churches, and feast days, and their daughters for a peasant girl from Nazareth, who lived 2,000 years ago and whose life was unremarkable in any meaningful respect?

She didn’t build anything; she didn’t write any books or compose great music, she didn’t conquer any countries. So what’s the big deal about Mary? Well, here our monetary metaphor comes to the rescue. Catholics are convinced that in the whole history of the world – and the whole history yet to unfold – only one person ever received the whole $300 trillion of salvation, namely, Mary.

She was rich in the only way that ultimately matters: rich in grace. You and I have about 75 cents. Again, for Protestants, Mary is simply another Christian who has been saved. In other words, Mary has $300 trillion in her pockets, and (if we're saved) we have $300 trillion in our pockets. Mary is simply another saved Christian, no more, no less. So stop making statues of her, or naming churches for her. You might as well name a church for Fr. John.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Graduation Season



What it takes to graduate from disciple to apostle

05-23-2026

John 21:20-25 Peter turned and saw the disciple following whom Jesus loved, the one who had also reclined upon his chest during the supper and had said, "Master, who is the one who will betray you?" When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, "Lord, what about him?" Jesus said to him, "What if I want him to remain until I come? What concern is it of yours?  You follow me." So the word spread among the brothers that that disciple would not die. But Jesus had not told him that he would not die, just "What if I want him to remain until I come? What concern is it of yours?" It is this disciple who testifies to these things and has written them, and we know that his testimony is true. There are also many other things that Jesus did, but if these were to be described individually, I do not think the whole world would contain the books that would be written.

This past Wednesday we celebrated our I.C. school graduation, and after Mass I remarked to Dc. Christopher: “Graduation season is over!” Seeing the puzzled look on his face, I explained: “Our non-Catholics have graduated at Easter and become Catholic. Our 2nd graders graduated making their First Communion. Our teenagers graduated making their Confirmation. And our elementary, middle school, high schoolers, and college students have all graduated. Whew, we can finally rest!”

But Dc. Christopher corrected me adding: “Not yet! We still have the graduations to the diaconate and priesthood!” And he was exactly right. Today Josh Osborne will be ordained a deacon, the last step before priesthood. And 5 deacons, including Dc. Christopher, will be ordained as priests next Saturday, May 30th. In other words, “no rest for the weary”! Graduation season does not end until the ordinations of our new priests for the diocese.

How fitting, then, as we come to the penultimate day of Easter – tomorrow is the last day, with the celebration of Pentecost – that we read from the end of the gospel of John, chapter 21. Why is it so fitting? Earlier in this chapter Jesus gives in effect his commencement speech to Peter about loving him "more than these" and feeding his sheep. And now we hear how Peter and John (always obliquely referred to as the beloved disciple) graduate from disciples to apostles, and represent the two great Christians vocations: the active life and the contemplative life.

Let’s look a little closer at this intriguing, even if brief, dialogue between Peter and Jesus, regarding John, the beloved disciple and their graduation. We read: “When Peter saw him (meaning John), he said to Jesus, ‘Lord, what about him?’ Jesus said to him, ‘What if I want him to remain until I come? What concern is that of yours? You follow me’.”

Now, many interpreters take Jesus’ words “until I come” to refer to the end of the world – maybe that’s what you were thinking – that is, when Jesus returns in glory. But clearly Jesus has not returned in glory and John died 2,000 years ago. So was Jesus mistaken, or worse, did he deceive his disciples?

By the way, this is not some small difficulty or discrepancy in the gospel. Jesus repeatedly states his intention to return rather soon. In fact, in Matthew, Jesus states explicitly: “this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place” (Mt 24:34). As a result some Christians, unable to square Jesus words with the historical record, have lost their faith in the Lord and left the Church.

But one way to square the circle is to understand Jesus’ words to mean not the end of THE world, but the end of A world, meaning, the Jewish world, which occurred in 70 A.D. with the destruction of Jerusalem. The Jewish world effectively ended for all intents and purposes. In other words, we must learn to interpret Jesus’ words and teachings in a more liturgical and supernatural way rather than in a literal and scientific way.

In a sense, this difference of interpretation is precisely the dividing line between the Old and the New Testaments. How so? In the Old Testament, concepts like king, kingdom, power, glory, temple, sacrifice all had earthly evidence: King David, conquered territory, military muscle, a glorious temple, etc. You could touch it and taste it, see it and feel it. There was no scientific doubt.

With the dawn of the New Testament, however, Jesus inaugurates an even more glorious kingdom, temple, priesthood, and sacrifice, but now you need the eyes of faith to see it. There is no scientific proof. And I would suggest to you that this new way of seeing, thinking, and living is the most important graduation ceremony we have to go through.

In other words, is our mindset one that requires everything to be proven scientifically, like Thomas who demanded proof of Jesus’ resurrection by inserting his hand into his side, or can we accept things on faith, and believe in them sacramentally? Put even more pertinently, all the other graduation ceremonies we celebrate – first Communions, Confirmations, becoming Catholic, completing school – are all but precursors and predecessors.

Of what?  Of the only graduation ceremony that ultimately matters, namely, graduating from the Old Testament to the New, from a world built on facts to a world built on faith, from a universe where the highest authority is science to a cosmos where the highest authority is sacrament. And when you see, think, and live that way, you can graduate from being a disciple to being an apostle. Because only then will graduation season finally be over.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Apex and Nadir

 



Seeing how Jesus is present in highs and lows

05-20-2026

John 17:11b-19 Lifting up his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed, saying: “Holy Father, keep them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one just as we are one. When I was with them I protected them in your name that you gave me, and I guarded them, and none of them was lost except the son of destruction, in order that the Scripture might be fulfilled. But now I am coming to you. I speak this in the world so that they may share my joy completely. I gave them your word, and the world hated them, because they do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world but that you keep them from the Evil One. They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. Consecrate them in the truth. Your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I sent them into the world. And I consecrate myself for them, so that they also may be consecrated in truth.”

My first pastor, whom I worked with as his associate, was Msgr. J. Gaston Hebert. He was the pastor of Christ the King in Little Rock, and the lessons I learned from him could fill the encyclopedia Brittanica. Once when I returned from a small vacation, he asked me, “Well, John, what was the apex and the nadir of your little vacation?”

Before I answered, I had to run and look up what the word “nadir” meant. Basically, he asked what was the best and worst experiences of my vacation. What a great way to analyze any experience: a vacation, a school year, a marriage, the priesthood. What was the apex and the nadir?

As I stand on the cusp of my 30th anniversary of priestly ordination would you mind if I shared the apex and nadir of the past 30 years as an ordained Catholic priest? Of course, it’s hard to pick one apex because I have enjoyed many mountain top experiences.

They are like the peaks of the Himalayan mountain range as they pierce the bright blue Tibetan skyline. But undeniably the day of my ordination would rise at the Mt. Everest among all the other apexes. As Psalm 110:4 says, “You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.” And by “forever” the psalmist means also in heaven.

A few days ago Dc. Christhoper asked if I remembered the homily from my ordination Mass. And surprisingly, I did. Bishop Andrew McDonald spoke eloquently about how my parents were like the wise men who came from the East (India), bringing gifts.

My parents did not deliver gold, frankincense, or myrrh, but their three children: Paul, John, and Mary. Indeed, what better gifts can anyone give to the world than their own children, who will live forever and change the world in unimaginable ways? Every child is not only “God’s gift to humanity,” but also every parent’s gift to humanity.

On the flip-side of the nadirs, I have to admit there have been likewise plenty of deep valleys and ravines to pick from. But perhaps the darkest valley of all was when my nephew Noah died on February 3, 2017. Next February 3, 2027 will mark his 10year anniversary.

But I can recount the dreadful moments when we heard the news and how the shockwaves swept over my family, and we still feel its unsettling reverberations. Just like there is no greater joy than the birth of a child, there is not deeper despair than the death of a child. Surely, every parent’s apex and nadir, and priest-uncle’s too.

Today we hear the second installment of John 17, known traditionally as Jesus’ high priestly prayer. And in a sense, our Lord, too, reflects on the apex and nadir of his life and ministry as the Messiah. Among the apexes of his 33 years on earth, he lists his apostles, his spiritual sons.

Jesus would give his blessed boys to the world like my parents gave their 3 children to the world. And perhaps Jesus’ nadir would be Judas, who betrayed him, whom he refers to ominously as “the son of destruction.” Just as Jesus has spiritual sons, so the devil produces spiritual progeny.

As we enter more profoundly into Jesus’ high priestly prayer today, and await the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, perhaps you can spend a few moments and follow Msgr. Hebert’s advice. What would you consider the apex and nadir of your life? Of all the highlights of your life what stands tallest as the Mt. Everest?

Of all the lowlights what would constitute the nadir, the valley of tears for you? But more importantly, try to see how God’s hand guided you and his grace sustained you through it all. You were never alone: neither when you stood on the mountain nor when you trudged through the valley.

When I was ordained on May 25, 1996, I had a little holy card made to remember the occasion. On the front of the card was a black-and-white pencil sketch of a bishop ordaining a priest. But Jesus was standing behind the bishop, and of course he was the One who truly ordained.

And the words on the bottom conveyed a message that still inspires me to this day: “Great is this mystery, and great the dignity of priests, to whom that is given, which is not granted to angels.” Surely with an apex like that, we should be able to handle all the nadirs that come along.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Axe of the Apostles

 



Appreciating the work of the Spirit in modern apostles

05-18-2026

Acts 19:1-8 While Apollos was in Corinth,Paul traveled through the interior of the country and down to Ephesus where he found some disciples. He said to them, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” They answered him, “We have never even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” He said, “How were you baptized?” They replied, “With the baptism of John.” Paul then said, “John baptized with a baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, in Jesus.” When they heard this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. And when Paul laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied. Altogether there were about twelve men. He entered the synagogue, and for three months debated boldly with persuasive arguments about the Kingdom of God.

During the pandemic back in 2020 everyone had a lot of time on their hands, especially priests. And everyone was working from home, which meant most people were not working. I decided to record some Bible studies and post them on the church website in case people wanted to read the Bible instead of work.

One 10-part study was on the Acts of the Apostles with the cheeky title “Axe of the Apostles” – spelled “a-x-e.” If you step back and survey the whole book of Acts, it is roughly divisible into two halves, the first focusing on St. Peter, and the second centering on St. Paul. In a sense, Peter and Paul are the two major “axes” that the Holy Spirit used to clear the world of the pagan forest so he could then build up his kingdom on earth.

Chapters 1-12 (or 15, the Council of Jerusalem) Peter is the most prominent, and from 12 (or 15) – 28 St. Paul runs the show. In other words, the Acts of the Apostles is not so much about the exploits of all 12 apostles but more narrowly about two, the pillars of the primitive Church, Sts. Peter and Paul. And we see the successors of these two pillars, the pope and our bishop continue to wield the axe to clear the world and our diocese of old paganisms and new threats to the kingdom of God.

The reason we should attentively study the original Acts of the Apostles (Peter and Paul) is so we can understand the current acts of the apostles (the pope and our bishop). Our first reading this morning is taken from Acts 19:1-8, which now you know is part of the second half of the book dealing with St. Paul, a bishop.

And St. Luke, the human author, describes how it belongs to the bishop’s office to confer the gifts of the Holy Spirit, just like our bishop comes annually to our parish for Confirmation and giving the Spirit to young Catholics. We read: “And when Paul laid hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied.”

Can you catch how the Holy Spirit continues to wield the axe of modern day apostles, meaning bishops, to clear the world of the forests of faithlessness and futility? And just like during the primitive Church the real forests of lack of faith are not outside somewhere else in the world, but inside each human heart, where there grow the dense and crowded trees of doubt, depressions, rivalries, ambition, laziness, lust, and so forth.

Let me share a recent experience where I felt the sharp edge of the axe of the apostles today. Last week I received an email from a man named Anthony who asked if we would offer the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM for short) here at I.C. He wrote: “You would be surprised how many young people with families would fill the pews of Immaculate Conception Church. The new high altar that was recently installed would be ideal for the TLM. Latin would unite all people of different races and creeds.”

Now, how would you reply to such a request? I remembered the axe of the apostles, Peter and Paul yesterday, and pope and bishop today, and responded like this: “The traditional Latin Mass is indeed very beautiful and inspires many Catholics, and notably the younger generation.” By the way, can you hear the big but coming? People used to compliment Msgr. Hebert by saying: “He could tell you you’re going to hell in such a way you would look forward to the ride.” It’s a shame he never became an axe of the apostles.

I continued, “However, the bishop has made it clear, following the direction of Traditionis Custodes (the pope’s directive limiting where the TLB may be celebrated), that diocesan priests are not permitted to celebrate the TLM in our parish.” Then I added: “Consequently, anyone wishing to attend the TLM must make the trip to either Our Lady of Sorrows in Lowell, or to St. John the Baptist in Cabot.” Now, do you think Anthony enjoyed the ride?

What’s my point this morning? It’s basically this: the fifth book of the New Testament does not merely have a historical value, what happened in the early Church after Jesus ascended and the Holy Spirit descended. It is certainly valuable for that. But it also contains a profoundly practical value for us today.

We see the Holy Spirit wielding the axe of the apostles with great effect today as he continues to clear the forest of foolishness and plant the seeds of faith. In case you have too much time on your hands – maybe because you’re working from home – reread the Acts of the Apostles and see if you can feel its sharp edge.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Looks and Love

 



Learning to shine with the beauty of Jesus

05-17-2026

Matthew 28:16-20 The eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had ordered them. When they saw him, they worshiped, but they doubted. Then Jesus approached and said  to them, “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”

Last week I had a discussion with a young man who mentioned the male subculture called “looksmaxxing.” It was new to me, but have you heard of it? This young Catholic explained that looksmaxxing is a modern mania urging men to improve their looks using such means as dieting, exercise, or buying expensive clothes. But sometimes maxxing can go to extremes and consist of reconstructive surgery and anabolic steroids, and even bone-smashing to create a chiseled jawline (just like mine).

How different this shallow world of looksmaxxers is from the dream of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., when he famously said: “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” In other words, true beauty is on the inside, the content of one’s character – which we might call lovemaxxing – rather than simply on the outside which obsesses over looksmaxxing.

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Ascension of Jesus into heaven. Our Lord takes his place at the Father’s right hand as the king and ruler of all creation. We might say the Ascension is the moment when Jesus’ human body has reached the pinnacle of male attractiveness, maybe Jesus was even sporting a chiseled chin.

But Jesus’ internal beauty would shine even far brighter than his external appearance. Why? Well, because his Sacred Heart beats with ineffable love demonstrated in his suffering and death on the cross. The Ascended Jesus is Martin Luther King’s dreaming walking. In other words, the epitome of true male or female attractiveness is when inner beauty of love shines through the body.

Let me give you two examples of true, interior beauty. This weekend we will celebrate the First Holy Communion of 69 young people, and these precious children will be both looksmaxxing and lovemaxxing. How so? Well, before they receive Jesus into their bodies and souls, they all went to confession. Nothing causes greater ugliness and disfigurement than sin.

On the other hand, there is nothing more beautiful than holiness because it is the beauty of the heart shining through the body glowing with the grace of Christ. And after their interior mansion is made pure and perfect, they enthrone Jesus the King of kings to rule in their hearts as he reigns in heaven today. If we look at these children with the eyes of faith we see a mini-Ascension: Jesus reigns in their hearts for the whole world to see.

The second example of true beauty is my parents, who celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary on Saturday. They were married on May 16, 1966, and my mom remembered: “It was 116 degrees in New Delhi, India that day and no air-conditioning!” But it wasn’t just hot outside, it there was a hot-looking couple getting married inside. My mom was a 25-year-old breath-taking beauty and my dad was a 32-year-old stud with a chiseled chin.

Even more amazing is they’ve only gotten better looking over the last 60 years. How’s that possible? Because they have been lovemaxxing on the inside with God’s grace. Married in the church, raising 3 kids, moving to a foreign country with pennies in their pockets, but with a dream bigger than Martin Luther King’s: to give their children more opportunities and a better life than they had.

On their 60th wedding anniversary, I hope they can see that dream has come true. And if my parents have taught us 3 kids one overarching lesson in life, it’s that true beauty is on the inside, the beauty of love. Just like Jesus ascended and glorified body still bears the scars caused by the nails, and the lance, and the crown, but still shines in splendor and glory, so my parents’ older bodies are not less beautiful but immeasurably more gorgeous, because they shine with the beauty of love.

I can’t image a more perfect day to get married than the Solemnity of the Ascension, even if it was 116 degrees outside with no air-conditioning inside. Why not? Because true beauty is not skin-deep but rather radiates from the heart. In other words, real and lasting beauty is not a matter of looks but of a matter of love.

Praised be Jesus Christ!