Sins in the Grave

          Boys and girls, would you like to know what I hear in confession?  Well, this morning, I am going to tell you; I’m going to share with you some sample confessions.  Before I do, however, I want you to understand these are not actual confessions that I have heard in the confessional.  A priest should never, ever reveal what he hears in confessions.  He must take those sins to his grave.  Rather, I just looked on the internet, and found these sample confessions.  I share them with you in the hopes that they will jog your memory and help you to make a good confession, too.  I’ll give you three samples.

          Sample one: “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned, I am a middle-aged woman who has 3 school-aged children and who works part time.  My last confession was five months ago and these are my sins.  I come to church almost every Sunday but I am easily distracted and often day dream or fall asleep.  I have grown indifferent to my husband.  I love my children and I take care of them but I must admit that I do not pay much attention to what they do or who they are with.  I can be very curt with them, maybe mean.  I tend to gossip often at work.  I don’t take good care of myself.  I rarely pray.  I seem to be telling a lot of lies lately.  I am sorry for these sins and the sins of my whole life.”

          Sample two: “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.  I am a single woman who is working full time.  My last confession was 3 months ago, and these are my sins.  I told a few lies.  I was really mad at one of my co-workers so I started a rumor about her and I know that it hurt her reputation.  I do a lot of flirting for attention and sometimes dress quite seductively.  I got in the habit of taking small things from work.  I know it’s wrong but I do it anyway.  I still work too much, and though I made a commitment to get my life into balance, I don’t seem to be doing much about it.  I am sorry for these sins and the sins of my whole life.”

          Sample three: “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.  I am a teenager who is a senior in high school.  I play a lot of sports.  My last confession was 10 months ago and these are my sins.  I missed Mass on Sunday at least 10 times.  I copy my friend’s homework because I am too lazy and too tired to do it.  I like to brag a lot because I have been a pretty successful athlete.  I take advantage of girls.  I give my parents a hard time.  I give the appearance of being a good friend, but I don’t really care about my friends very much.  I am sorry for these sins and the sins of my whole life.”

          Boys and girls, I hope these 3 sample confessions gave you an idea of what sins you, too, need to confess.  But I hope it also gives you some peace of mind in knowing that other people are not perfect either -- not your peers, not your parents and not even your priests -- that we are all sinners in need of a Savior.  Now, we’re all going to say our Act of Contrition together, and it’s a really short one that you can easily remember.  Just repeat after me: “Oh, my Jesus, have mercy on me, for I am a sinner.  Amen.”  One last item: non-Catholics are welcome to come talk to a priest, too, but let the priest know you are not Catholic when you walk in.  Good luck.

Albatross Necklace

Learning how our actions have consequences for others

Ezekiel 47:1-9, 12

The angel brought me, Ezekiel, back to the entrance of the temple of the LORD, and I saw water flowing out from beneath the threshold of the temple toward the east… He said to me, “This water flows into the eastern district down upon the Arabah, and empties into the sea, the salt waters, which it makes fresh.  Wherever the river flows, every sort of living creature that can multiply shall live, and there shall be abundant fish, for wherever this water comes the sea shall be made fresh. Along both banks of the river, fruit trees of every kind shall grow; their leaves shall not fade, nor their fruit fail. Every month they shall bear fresh fruit, for they shall be watered by the flow from the sanctuary. Their fruit shall serve for food, and their leaves for medicine.”

          Boys and girls, have you started to notice that what you do affects others, either positively or negatively? If you do something good, it blesses others; if you do something bad, it harms others. What I do impacts you. For instance, if I walked up and punched Dalton Smith in the nose, it would hurt him. And then he would probably punch me back. And then lightning would strike him from heaven and he would be fried to a crisp. Or, if I give a boring homily, you will fall asleep, as I see Ethan Martinez already has. A few days ago I helped Francesca Rossi with her geometry homework, and she got all the answers correct. What I do impacts you, my actions have consequences not only for me, but also for you; for good or ill, to bless or curse.

          In 1798 the great English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote a lengthy poem called “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” It’s about a sailor who shoots an albatross (a sea bird) and by that action curses and dooms the whole crew of the ship. As penance and punishment, they make him wear the dead albatross around his neck, an albatross necklace! Listen to these lyric lines: “Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship, Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water every where, Nor any drop to drink.” The undrinkable water was a symbol of how the mariner’s sinful actions carried the consequences of the curse to his crew-mates. Whatever I do, sooner or later, touches you, both for good and for bad.

          In the first reading from Ezekiel, we see water again symbolizing the consequences of actions, but this time as a beautiful blessing.  The water flows out from the Temple, and wherever it goes, there is life, like fruitful trees. And when it gets to the salt water, it even makes the salt water fresh. In the gospel we see the true Temple from which water flows is really Jesus himself. What he does blesses others, like healing the crippled man. But St. Paul will teach us that each Christian is a temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 6:19) – we are to be like “mini-temples” – and waters of blessing should flow from us, touching and healing others. A Christian’s actions carry consequences, not only for the Christian, but also for the whole world.

          Boys and girls, I want you to think a little more deeply about what you do and what you don’t do, and how that affects others.  When you make poor choices – like cheat on a test, or when you spread rumors, or when you become lazy because it’s Springtime – those choices hurt others. But when you make good decisions – like pick up trash, or compliment others, or help the poor, or finish the year strong – those decisions bless others. Even choices you make in secret, when you think you are alone, are also ripples in the water that carry consequences to the farthest shores, to bless or to curse.

          Almost 200 years before Coleridge wrote “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” another English author, John Donne wrote “Meditation 17” but made the same point. He wrote: “No man is an island, entire of itself, every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less.” “If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less.”  You wouldn’t think a little clod of dirt slipping into the Atlantic Ocean would make much difference to a huge continent, and yet it does. And so too do your actions, and my actions, however small or secret, affect the continent of humanity.

          Praised be Jesus Christ!

Rembrandt to the Rescue

Running to our mother in this Year of Mercy

Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Jesus told this parable: “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need. Coming to his senses he thought, ‘I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.”’ So he got up and went back to his father. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.’ But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ Then the celebration began.

          Archbishop Fulton Sheen tells the story of when he was a small boy and had a toothache. Have you ever had a toothache? They’re not very fun, are they? Well, the archbishop said, “Whenever I had a toothache, I would always go to my grandmother, never to my parents. My grandmother would put a little ointment on the tooth and make the pain go away. My parents, on the other hand, would take me to the dentist, and the dentist would poke and probe and pull and make the pain worse!” Does that story sound familiar, maybe happening in your own family? If you had a toothache, would you run to your mother or to your father? Most of us would answer, “I would run to mom!” Why? Well, because most mothers are merciful and tender and gentle. They just make the pain go away.

          My absolute favorite painting by the famous Dutch artist Rembrandt is titled, “The Return of the Prodigal Son.” Have you seen it?  If you had, you’d never forget it.  It was completed in 1667, just two years before he died, and so in many ways this embodied his crowning achievement. The painting captures the touching scene when the younger son (the prodigal son) returns home to beg his father’s forgiveness for wasting his wealth. In the painting, the son is kneeling in front of his father, with his head buried in his bosom. The father’s hands are on the son’s back and shoulder. But there’s something strangely symbolic in the father’s two hands. His left hand is clearly a man’s hand: strong, firm and authoritative. But his right hand is distinctively womanly: tender, soft, gentle and caring. Why these different hands? Well, Rembrandt wanted the father to depict God’s masculine but also feminine virtues: his justice but also his mercy. And nothing means mercy like a mother’s hand. That’s why we look for a mother’s hand when we suffer from a toothache.

          Today’s gospel is the great parable of mercy in Luke 15. This is the parable that Rembrandt immortalized in paint and canvas 350 years ago. Now, even though the point of the parable is mainly about mercy, there’s someone conspicuously missing, namely, the mother. Where is the mother of this family? If you were the prodigal son and you had to return home after how you had lived this profligate life, would you run to the arms of your father or your mother? I mean, the prodigal son’s problem and pain was a little worse than a toothache! Well, this is where Rembrandt comes to the rescue. Through his masterpiece he interprets this Scripture, and we see that the reaction of the father is both fatherly and motherly, both just and merciful, because the father’s hands are both masculine and feminine. In other words, the prodigal son’s father and mother are present in the parable embodied in the fabulous figure of the father, who is an earthly reflection of the heavenly Father. You see, the prodigal son really ran into the arms of his father and mother; the mother was not missing.

          You’ve heard by now that Pope Francis wants the Church to celebrate a Year of Mercy. What on earth is that? Well, it’s not just something on earth, but also something in purgatory. To put it simply, he wants us to take the place of the prodigal son in Rembrandt’s painting and feel the love of those two hands on our shoulders, especially the tender merciful hand of the mother. One way the pope wants us to feel God’s motherly mercy is by granting Catholics a “plenary indulgence.” Now, let me ask you, who indulges their children? Well, mostly mothers do, and grandmothers really do. When you indulge someone you give them what they desire, not what they deserve; you give them ice cream not broccoli.

          Now, let me be more specific. A plenary indulgence is like a “get out of jail free card,” because it excuses us from the punishment we deserve for sins in purgatory. But to obtain this plenary indulgence, you have to fulfill four conditions. First, you must go to confession and be in the state of grace. If you don’t like to go to confessions, you’re out of luck. You have to go to confession. Second, you must receive Holy Communion, preferably within Mass. Third, you must pray for Pope Francis – typically saying one Our Father and one Hail Mary for him suffices. And fourth, you must make a pilgrimage to an official “Holy Door,” which in Arkansas is located in Little Rock, at Our Lady of Good Counsel Church. If you fulfill those four conditions – confession, Communion, prayer for the pope and going through the Door – it will feel as if the pope has laid his right hand – the hand of motherly mercy – and indulged you as all good mothers and grandmothers do. This is why Catholics frequently refers to the Church as “holy Mother Church,” because in her arms we find the marvelous mercy of God.  Mother Church makes the pain of purgatory go away.

          You know, most people who behold Rembrandt’s masterpiece sit in front of it and try to imagine what it felt like to be the prodigal son, with the father’s two hands on their shoulders. In this Year of Mercy, however, you don’t have to imagine that at all, you can actually experience it first hand (pun intended!). If you fulfill the four conditions of the plenary indulgence, you can spiritually step into Rembrandt’s priceless painting, and into Jesus’ parable, and enter the warm embrace of the heavenly Father, and be wrapped in the mantle of God’s motherly mercy. Why? Because whenever you have a toothache, you run to your mother.

          Praised be Jesus Christ!

Ambulance Chasers

Becoming passionate about justice and Jesus

Mark 12:28-34

One of the scribes came to Jesus and asked him, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus replied, “The first is this: Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.” The scribe said to him, “Well said, teacher. You are right in saying, He is One and there is no other than he. And to love him with all your heart, with all your understanding, with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.” And when Jesus saw that he answered with understanding, he said to him, “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.” And no one dared to ask him any more questions.

          Lawyers often get a bad rap. And I should know because I am one of them, a church lawyer, or more precisely, a canon lawyer. They are pejoratively portrayed as “ambulance chasers,” looking to make money off someone else’s misery. Have you heard the old joke, “What do you call a plane full of lawyers that crashes and sinks to the bottom of the ocean?” The answer: “A good start.” But all that, I believe, is a gross exaggeration that just plays well on late-night television. Most lawyers are principled and passionate people who defend the rights of individuals and institutions in courts of law. In other words, they care about justice.

          As a prime example, we recently witnessed the passing of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, a Catholic lawyer. His son, Fr. Paul Scalia, delivered the funeral homily. Fr. Scalia began with these words: “We are gathered here because of one man. A man known personally to many of us, known only by reputation to even more; a man loved by many, scorned by others; a man known for great controversy, and for great compassion. That man, of course, is Jesus of Nazareth.” Fr. Scalia went on to explain that his Dad was passionate not only about justice, but also about Jesus. You see, whenever a lawyer serves justice, he really serves Jesus.

          In the gospel today, St. Mark describes the encounter between a scribe – really a Jewish lawyer – and Jesus. The scribe asks Jesus’ opinion about which law is the greatest. In answer, Jesus gives him two great laws: the love of God and the love of neighbor. The scribe-lawyer was pleased with Jesus answer because he was thirsty for the truth. If you take time to read the whole 12th chapter of Mark, you’ll find it is filled Jewish experts and lawyers riddling Jesus with questions, who really were “ambulance chasers,” but not this attorney. And Jesus says to him (in contrast to the others), “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” Every lawyer who serves justice “is not far from the kingdom of God” because they are not far from Jesus.

          Today, ask yourself this question: when I talk to people do I sometimes sound like a lawyer who’s an ambulance chaser? For instance, in your conversations with your spouse or your children or your boss, do you sound like you are you trying a case in court, cross-examining a witness, prosecuting a felon? Do you have to prove your point at all costs? Or, do you humbly admit you might be wrong and your spouse might be right? I mean, what lawyer ever concedes that his or her opponent might be right? That would be a lawyer who really serves justice, and in doing so, really serves Jesus. He or she thirsts for the truth, like the scribe in the gospel.

          Look at it this way: at your funeral Mass, do you want the priest to talk more about you or more about Jesus?

          Praised be Jesus Christ!

Swinging a Toothpick

Learning to use our words wisely

Matthew 18:21-35

Peter approached Jesus and asked him, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times. That is why the Kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who decided to settle accounts with his servants. When he began the accounting, a debtor was brought before him who owed him a huge amount. Since he had no way of paying it back, his master ordered him to be sold, along with his wife, his children, and all his property, in payment of the debt. At that, the servant fell down, did him homage, and said, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back in full.’ Moved with compassion the master of that servant let him go and forgave him the loan. When that servant had left, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a much smaller amount. He seized him and started to choke him, demanding, ‘Pay back what you owe.’

          Boys and girls, you are growing powerful. Have you noticed that? For example, some of you have gained physical power, like when you play sports. Others are strong intellectually, with very sharp minds. Some are stunningly beautiful or handsome, which is also a special kind of power. Still others possess the ability to make people laugh, a sense of humor, which again wields much power. How are you using that new power: to help people or to harm them? You’ve probably experimented and done both, sometimes helping, sometimes harming, and that’s how you know you have this unique power.

          Let me tell you about another power that many people pass over, namely, the power of words. It is said that Shakespeare had a working vocabulary of 54,000 words. By contrast, most Americans have a working vocabulary of about 3,000 words. Shakespeare died in 1616, exactly 400 years ago this year, but we’re still reading his plays and poems. Will anyone read anything you or I write 400 years from now? I kinda doubt it. In other words, the power of Shakespeare’s words reaches across centuries to touch and tickle our ears today. That dude was powerful.

          On Sunday, I attended the 8 a.m. Vietnamese Mass in Barling. I felt like a Gringo in a Spanish Mass – clueless and very self-conscious. I felt very powerless and puny. But all of you who speak Vietnamese and Spanish wield the power of words in other languages. Don’t lose that power, but be careful how you use that power.

          Today’s gospel is really about how to wield our words in a way that helps rather than harms. The king employs words of clemency and compassion to a servant in debt to him. He forgives him. And it’s clear to everyone paying attention to the parable, that debtor should have done the same, but didn’t. Rather, his words were cruel and critical, “Pay back what you owe!” Both the king and the servant employed the power of words: one to help, the other to harm.

          In 1839, English author Edward Bulwer-Lytton coined the phrase, “the pen is mightier than the sword.” Have you heard that before? That means words do more damage than a sword that can cut off your head. Have you used your words like swords to harm other people? For instance, have you ever put a note in someone’s locker, saying scathing and scandalous things about them? The pen is mightier than the sword. Have you written on a bathroom wall in a way that made you feel powerful? The pen is mightier than the sword. Or rather, have you used your words to heal, to comfort, and to inspire others? The choice is in your hands, and on your tongue.

           Shakespeare was a master of 54,000 words, whereas you and I are masters of about 3,000 words. If Shakespeare brandished a sword, you and I are swinging toothpicks. Well, try to do some good with your toothpick.

          Praised be Jesus Christ!

Full Face

Knowing God so we can know ourselves

Exodus 3:1-2, 13-14

Moses was tending the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian. Leading the flock across the desert, he came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There an angel of the LORD appeared to Moses in fire flaming out of a bush. As he looked on, he was surprised to see that the bush, though on fire, was not consumed. So Moses decided, “I must go over to look at this remarkable sight, and see why the bush is not burned.”

Moses said to God, “But when I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ if they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what am I to tell them?” God replied, “I am who am.” Then he added, “This is what you shall tell the Israelites:  I AM sent me to you.”

          A year after I was ordained a priest, the bishop sent me back to school to study canon law. Apparently, I had not learned enough in seminary, so the bishop sent me to Catholic University of America to learn some more. It’s like catching a fish that’s too small to keep, so you throw it back and let it get bigger, then you catch it and eat it. The bishop was not ready to fry me up and eat me yet! While I was in Washington D.C., I got to tour the U.S. Capitol Building, and see the “House Chamber,” the large ornate hall where the House of Representatives meet. It was breath-taking, standing where presidents deliver their “State of the Union Address” and where our country’s laws are discussed, debated and decreed.

          But something surprising struck me along the walls of this hallowed room. There are reliefs of the twenty-three greatest law-makers in the history of the world, such as Hammurabi and Napoleon I and Thomas Jefferson. But one relief is different all from the rest. Twenty-two of the reliefs have only a side portrait, as if you’re seeing them from their shoulder and see only half their face. But only one showed his full face, from the front. The full face was that of Moses, the greatest law-giver of all time, who gave us not human laws but divine laws, the Ten Commandments.

          But I believe Moses did more than just give us another list of laws to obey, like Gaius and Maimonades did. Moses taught us that we can only be fully human when our lives are rooted in God. Only if we know God can we know ourselves. In other words, only if we have a relationship with God will we see our “full face,” otherwise, we see ourselves only as a side portrait; we see only half of us. You see, when man is cutoff from God, he not only doesn’t know God, he doesn’t really know himself; Without God, man is only half himself.

The first reading today presents precisely this dramatic moment in Moses’ life, his first encounter with God in the burning bush, and his encounter with himself. Notice how the story reveals not only the identity of God, but also the identity of Moses. First Moses asks God for his name, and God replies: “This is what you shall tell the Israelites: I AM sent me to you.” God’s name is that great and mysterious “I Am Who Am,” a name so holy to the Jews that they never even utter it out loud. It is symbolized by the four letters, “YHWH.” By the way, that was the first four letter word you shouldn’t say! But notice that God’s identity is not all that hangs in the balance in this sacred scene. Moses also asks, “But who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” Moses asks God in effect, “Who am I?” because he knows only God can fully answer that question because God made him. Indeed, through his interaction with God in the remaining 37 chapters of Exodus, God reveals Moses’ deepest identity as “the most humble man on earth” (Numbers 12:3). You see, Moses not only came to know God in the burning bush, Moses also came to know himself; Moses saw his “full face” in the Face of God.

          A boy was sitting on a park bench with one hand resting on an open Bible. He was loudly exclaiming his praise to God. “Hallelujah! God is great!” Shortly after, along came a man recently graduated from college. Feeling very enlightened he was eager to educate the naïve young boy. He asked him why he was so happy. The boy said, “Don’t you have any idea what God is able to do? I just read that God opened up the waves of the Red Sea and led the whole nation of Israel right through the middle.” The man laughed lightly, sat down next to the boy to open his eyes to the realities of the so-called miracles of the Bible. He said, “That can all be explained because modern scholarship has shown that the Red Sea in that area was only 10 inches deep at that time. It was not problem for the Israelites to wade across.” The boy was stumped. He eyes wandered from the man back to the Bible in his lap. The man, content that he had enlightened the poor, ignorant boy, got up to go. All of a sudden, the boy began to rejoice even louder than before. The man asked again why he was so happy. The boy said, “God is greater than I thought! Not only did he lead the nation of Israel through the Red Sea, he topped it off by drowning the whole Egyptian army in 10 inches of water!” I guess that college graduate needed to go back to school to learn a little more; he was still a small fish. He needed to learn that without God you are only half yourself.

          Today I’m here to talk a minute about Trinity Junior High and to encourage you to send your children there. Of course we have superior academics: our Quiz Bowl team just won the state championship. By the way, they’ve won it 11 out of the last 12 years.  And the year we didn’t win, we didn’t compete.  We have excellent extracurricular activities like band and cheer, dance and basketball. We just hired Coach John Vitale to be the new head football coach. He’s been the head football coach at Van Buren high school. We’re blessed with dedicated and driven teachers and the St. Scholastica Sisters on the same campus praying for us daily.

          But our biggest blessing is that God is the classroom. Every day begins with a prayer. We have Mass every Tuesday, confession twice a year (actually, the students need confession every week!) and two weeks ago I led their annual retreat. Each teenage student asks himself or herself the same burning question that Moses did: “Who am I?” and Trinity Junior High is like the burning bush where God answers each student back in their hearts, revealing their deepest identity. Of course, at other schools students will learn math and science, history and economics, and play football and volleyball, but only in a Catholic school will they learn who they are; they will see their “full face.” Every other school will only give them a “side profile.” Without God, you are only half yourself.

          By the way, do you know where that full-face profile of Moses is placed in the House Chamber? It is on the wall directly opposite from where the president stands when he delivers his State of the Union Address. Moses faces the president. It’s a not-so-subtle reminder to each Commander-in-Chief of the only law-giver who has a full face: because Moses knew God, he knew himself. That’s something the president and each of us should keep in mind whenever we ask ourselves the question, “Who am I?”

          Praised be Jesus Christ!

Number Two

Seeing the world through God eyes

Genesis 37:3-4, 12-13A

Israel loved Joseph best of all his sons, for he was the child of his old age; and he had made him a long tunic. When his brothers saw that their father loved him best of all his sons, they hated him so much that they would not even greet him. One day, when his brothers had gone to pasture their father’s flocks at Shechem, Israel said to Joseph,  “Your brothers, you know, are tending our flocks at Shechem. Get ready; I will send you to them.” So Joseph went after his brothers and caught up with them in Dothan. They noticed him from a distance, and before he came up to them, they plotted to kill him. They said to one another: “Here comes that master dreamer! Come on, let us kill him and throw him into one of the cisterns here; we could say that a wild beast devoured him. We shall then see what comes of his dreams.”

          Boys and girls, if you could pick between the following two options, which would you like or prefer? Listen carefully, and raise your hand if you like Number One or Number Two. First choice: would you like to be Superman or be a kindergartner? Second choice: would you rather have a vacation in Disney World or play in your back yard? Third choice: would you prefer to be the pope or to be an altar server? Fourth choice: someday would you like to drive a Hummer or drive a Fort Escort? Fifth choice: would you rather be Peyton Manning and win the Superbowl or be Fr. John and throw the football with the Immaculate Conception students at recess? Now, here’s the last choice: would you prefer to live in a castle or live in a tent? Most people would choose Superman, Disney World, the pope, the Hummer, Peyton Manning and a castle. But what do you think God would choose? How many think that God would choose option Number One or option Number Two? It’s kinda strange, but if you study the Bible carefully and watch Jesus closely, you’ll see that God usually picks Number Two, not Number One.  God thinks differently than we do.

          This is the point of the story of Joseph and the coat of many colors. Joseph is the youngest son, the runt of the litter, of Jacob, who had 12 sons. Joseph’s 11 older brothers were stronger and bigger and smarter and had more toys than Joseph did. They probably drove Hummers. All Joseph had were his dreams and a really cool coat. Now, this wasn’t part of the story today, but later we learn whom does God chooses to save the whole family. It wasn’t Ruben or Judah or any of the other 11, but it was little Joseph. It’s so strange, but God often picks Number Two – or in this case Number 12 – to do his will. God often chooses very differently than we do.

          Boys and girls, I want to tell you a little secret. No one person will be good at everything. You may be good at some things, but you’re not good at everything. For example, raise your hand if you’re NOT good at basketball. Now raise your hand if you’re not good at spelling. Raise your hand if you’re not very good with math – don’t worry, I’m not either! How many of you are not good at learning Spanish? Raise your hand if you’re not good at English! Now, does that mean that God does not love you? No, it means exactly the opposite. God always and especially loves those whom the world ignores to do his will. You are like Joseph, and God has a very special plan for your life.

          Boys and girls, as you look around at the world, you know what you like – Superman, the pope and castles. But also ask yourself: what does God like? You might see a very different world.

          Praised be Jesus Christ!