Beer and Bible

Appreciating the recent resurgence in Bible study

09/30/2024

2 Timothy 3:14-17 Beloved: Remain faithful to what you have learned and believed, because you know from whom you learned it, and that from infancy you have known the sacred Scriptures, which are capable of giving you wisdom for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that one who belongs to God may be competent, equipped for every good work.

Have you noticed the recent resurgence of Catholics reading the Bible? It used to be said that the Protestants have the Bible while the Catholics have the rosary. But not anymore. Today Catholics carry the Bible in one hand and the rosary in the other, analogous to holding Jesus (the Word of God) by one hand and Mary (the Mother of God) by the other hand. When Jesus and Mary are the company you keep, you will never get lost. The Bible, therefore, is no longer “that Protestant book.” Put humorously, Catholics are learning that BYOB really means “bring your own Bible.”

So what is this recent resurgence all about? For instance, literally millions of people have watched Fr. Mike Schmitz podcast called the “Bible in a Year.” It’s hard for me to listen to Fr. Mike because he talks too fast, and it feels like I am taking a sip from a fire hydrant listening to him. But lots of Catholics have fallen in love with the Bible thanks to his motor mouth.

This coming December 8 (the feast of the Immaculate Conception) Ignatius Press will publish their ginormous Catholic Study Bible edited by Scott Hahn and Curtis Mitch. It consists of no less than 2,320 pages of sacred text and sound commentary. It is my personal favorite version because it is so informative but also because it is the one I used in my Bible studies.

A third option for Bible fans is called “The Word on Fire Bible” produced by Bishop Robert Barron. The first thing you will notice about this Bible is how beautiful it is, not only the book itself – cover and content – but also how it uses art, architecture, and literature to explain the Sacred Scriptures.

Just like a beautiful girl can turn a boy’s head, so a beautiful Bible can inspire us to turn its pages and fall in love with God. The producers of this Bible like to call it “a Cathedral in print.” Just imagine capturing the beauty of this church of the Immaculate Conception in words, and you get the reverse of the idea of the Word on Fire Bible.

Today is the feast of St. Jerome, and he would remind us that this recent resurgence of biblical attention is really part of a recurring resurgence in Scripture study over the years. How so? Well, St. Jerome lived from 342 to 420 and was so enthralled with the Bible he wanted the whole world to read it. At that time the common language was Latin but the Bible was still only available in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek.

So like Fr. Mike Schmitz, Scott Hahn, and Bishop Barron, St. Jerome tried to make the Bible more accessible and exciting to lay persons and translated the entire Bible into one language, Latin, called the Vulgate. Vulgate comes from the Latin word “vulgatum” meaning common or popular. In other words, this recent resurgence is only the latest wave of Scripture study crashing on the shores of Christian souls trying to covert us to Christ, the true Word of God.

My friends, have you become part of this recent resurgence? Well, why not? There is no longer any rational excuse not to read, study, and meditate on God’s Word. I am so pleased with the tireless work of Surennah Werley who provides many different vehicles and venues for Bible study. Our parish spiritual life committee has launched an on-line Bible study which you couch potatoes can participate in while wearing your cozy pajamas.

Pope Francis is doing his part by designating the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time (usually the last Sunday in January) as “The Word of God Sunday.” And why is the recent resurgence so urgent? St. Jerome put it best and famously: “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.” In other words, our claim to be a Christian rings hollow and empty without a deep and intimate familiarity with the Holy Bible.

St. Paul taught Timothy in the first reading today: “All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that one who belongs to God may be competent, equipped for every good work.” That is, if we do not become part of this recent resurgence, we will not be “equipped for every good work.” Or, to paraphrase the movie The Godfather, “Leave the beer, take the Bible.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Deaf and Dumb

Seeing the journey of faith as an act of remembrance

09/28/2024

LK 9:43B-45 While they were all amazed at his every deed, Jesus said to his disciples, “Pay attention to what I am telling you. The Son of Man is to be handed over to men.” But they did not understand this saying; its meaning was hidden from them so that they should not understand it, and they were afraid to ask him about this saying.

Our RCIA classes are now in full-swing and it is one of our biggest classes in years, with almost 30 candidates, non-Catholics who want to become Catholic. Often Catholics come with their non-Catholic spouses to the classes, not only to support them in their journey of faith, but also as a refresher for themselves.

And at some point in the course of the year cradle Catholics inevitably exclaim: “I never knew we believed all that!” That is, they are learning some doctrine about the Eucharist, or Mary, or papal infallibility as if they were hearing them with fresh ears, as if for the very first time. But I always smile when veteran Catholics are astonished by Church teaching. Why?

Well, because they are not learning something new but actually remember something old. In other words, they had learned about the Eucharist, and Mary, and papal infallibility (and a 100 other doctrines) in grade school. But the pleasures and pressures of adulthood have suppressed those lessons, almost to the point of having forgotten them. And now they feel like they are learning something brand new.

Fr. Daniel Velasco still gives me tennis lessons – for four years now – and sometimes when I ask him why I am missing my forehand shot, he replies: “It’s your faulty footwork. Remember, I told you that in the beginning.” You know, I just love it when he says that. In other words, our journey of faith, like learning tennis, is far more about remember the old than learning the new.

In the gospel today the apostles also experience a moment of learning the faith that they will have to return to and remember again and again and again. Jesus says – knowing full well how the human mind and memory work (or better don’t work) – “Pay attention to what I am telling you. The Son of Man is to be handed over to men.”

Of course, he means his suffering and death. But notice the next verse: “But they did not understand this saying; its meaning was hidden from them so that they should not understand it.” Jesus knows that he is teaching his apostles like a teacher in Catholic grade school, instructing cradle Catholics: “I will teach you this, but the problems, pressures, and pleasures of life will make your forget what you learn.”

Like Fr. Daniel when he told me the preliminary lessons of tennis that I would have to re-learn and remember, so too the apostles’ journey of faith would consist far more of remembering the old than in learning the new. And the function of remembering would helped by the Holy Spirit. So, Jesus explains in Jn 14:26, “The Advocate, the holy Spirit that the Father will send in my name – he will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.”

In other words, Jesus’ public ministry of teaching, healing, suffering, dying, and rising only lasted 3 years. But it would take the apostles the rest of their lives, and indeed all eternity, to grasp the full significance of all our Lord taught and did. And we should not be surprised if it takes us a lot longer than eternity. The journey of faith is far more about remembering the old than discovering the new.

My friends, the central lesson of our Lord’s life revolved around the Eucharist, a memorial meal. He would even say, after consecrating the bread and wine into his Body and Blood: “Do this in memory of me.” And he did not intend us to celebrate the Mass once a year or once a month but at least every Sunday, and if possible even every day. Why?

Well, because we weak-minded mortals forget the lessons we learned in childhood about the majesty and mystery of the Mass. And we have to walk into church and kneel down as if for the first time and gasp like cradle Catholics in RCIA class, “Wow, I never knew we believed all that about the Eucharist!”

The journey of faith is far more about remembering the old than about learning the new, when the problems, pressures, and pleasures of life are not making us deaf and dumb. Jesus said, “Pay attention to what I am telling you.” But we are only half paying attention, or not paying attention at all. Or as Fr. Daniel would say to me: “Remember, I told you that in the beginning.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Family Feelings

Prioritizing our supernatural family above our natural

09/24/2024

LK 8:19-21 The mother of Jesus and his brothers came to him but were unable to join him because of the crowd. He was told, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you.” He said to them in reply, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it.”

As you know, we priests are normally celibate, meaning we do not marry or have a natural family. Now, our diocese does have a few married priests and they are great priests and men. But that rule about celibacy is a two-edged knife that cuts both ways, both positively and negatively. It is positive because it allows us greater freedom to serve others; we are not tied down by a wife and kids.

One lady told me several years ago that she could never go to confession to a married priest. Why? She explained that she could not be sure that when he is laying next to his wife in bed at night, he might not say, “Honey, you will never believe what I heard today!” So, being celibate is positive because it helps with the confidentiality of the confessional.

But celibacy can also be a knife that cuts negatively. How so? Well, without a wife and children, priests can live in an artificial bubble and become unsympathetic to the plight and problems of married people. I don’t have to change diapers, or save for a wedding, or plan for retirement, or teach a teenager how to drive a car!

In fact, it wasn’t until I got my dog Apollo that I learned to be more sympathetic because there are a lot of similarities between raising children and training dogs, mutatis mutandis. So, that is the negative side of celibacy, namely, it can isolate a priest and make him insensitive to people’s everyday difficulties and dilemmas.

In the gospel today, we see Jesus dealing with the pressures of family life, both the positive and the negative. Now, obviously, Jesus was celibate and not married with children, no matter what Dan Brown fantasized in The DaVinci Code. Nonetheless, he did feel the pressure of family life because of his mother Mary, foster-father Joseph, and cousins (called brothers and sisters in Judaism).

So, someone says to him, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you.” But Jesus replies: “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it.” In other words, Jesus emphasizes the positive side of celibacy, and St. Paul would build on that foundation in 1 Corinthians 7. That is, more urgent than the natural obligations of family life are the supernatural demands of hearing and obeying God’s word.

I try to go see my parents on Fridays. But whenever I have a funeral on Friday, they never complain about my absence but always assure me instead: “Son, go take care of your people. Your parishioners are your priority.” And when Jesus answered as he did in the gospel today, Mary and his cousins no doubt reacted the same way as my parents when I have a Friday funeral. The supernatural family should take precedence over the natural family.

My friends, clearly not everyone is called to celibacy. Nonetheless, we all have to weigh and balance our natural and supernatural obligations and prioritize the latter over the former. I regularly talk to grandparents whose adult children have not baptized their children, that is, the grandparents’ grandchildren are unbaptized.

It causes great grief and concern for the grandparents, and it should. While always respecting the rights of the parents, the grandparents should fervently pray for their children to live their faith and look for opportunities to put in a good word about the immense value of baptism.

Parents’ supernatural obligations can also be tested in the many ways children choose to marry these days. Some choose to simply live together and forego marriage all together, others marry their same-sex partner, still others undergo sex-change surgeries due to feelings of gender dysphoria.

These are extremely complex and highly sensitive situations, and I feel great sympathy for parents who try to navigate these uncharted waters. The only advice I can give is to keep your eyes on Jesus and don’t lose your faith while you try to love your family. Through prayer and patience, try to prioritize your supernatural duties over your natural affinities.

After considering all these challenges parents face today, celibacy might sound pretty attractive. Listen again to the profound exchange in the gospel today: “Jesus was told, ‘Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you.’ Jesus said to them in reply, ‘My mother and brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it.’” In other words, I’ll be here if your funeral falls on a Friday.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Legs in Our Legacy

Developing people as how we want to be remembered

09/23/2024

Mk 9:30-37 Jesus and his disciples left from there and began a journey through Galilee, but he did not wish anyone to know about it. He was teaching his disciples and telling them, “The Son of Man is to be handed over to men and they will kill him, and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise.” But they did not understand the saying, and they were afraid to question him. They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house, he began to ask them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they remained silent. They had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest. Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them, “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.” Taking a child, he placed it in their midst, and putting his arms around it, he said to them, “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me.”

A few years after I was ordained I was assigned to St. Raphael Church in Springdale, where my older brother and his family attended Mass. Now, the hardest congregations to preach to are teenagers and older brothers. Why? Well, because teenagers don’t care, and older brothers care too much. One day after Mass, my brother handed me a book on leadership by John Maxwell, and he urged me, “You really need to read this.”

I felt mildly offended and I replied: “Hey, I know how to be a priest! And I was ordained to say Mass and save souls, not to be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.” But I was wrong and Paul was right. Think about it. Some of the biggest blunders pastors make is not how they celebrate Mass or preach the gospel, but whether or not they have mastered basic leadership skills; how to lead a congregation.

John Maxwell once share how he was mentored by legendary Coach John Wooden, who had won 10 basketball championships, the most ever. And Maxwell asked Wooden what he wanted to be remembered for, what he wanted his legacy to be. And surprisingly, Wooden replied he did not want to be remembered for his championships. Rather, he wanted to be known by his players as a coach who prepared them for life. That they did life better, not just play basketball better.

And then John Maxwell used a memorable phrase saying, ‘Legacy has legs in it.” That is, just like you can see the word “leg” in “legacy,” so too, people (symbolized by legs) are the best legacy we can be known for. A priest-friend of mine jokes, “You know it would be great being a priest if it wasn’t for all the people!” But that comment is a perfect failure to learn a critical lesson of leadership: namely, legacy has legs in it. People are an asset, not a liability.

In the gospel today, Jesus is at pains to teach his disciples lessons in priestly leadership, especially about prioritizing people. First he explains his own pending suffering, death, and resurrection for others, but they are clueless. Instead, they start a secret conversation about who’s the greatest. Perhaps they would have defined greatness as winning 10 national championships.

But like Coach Wooden and John Maxwell, Jesus emphasizes that legacy has legs in it. He insists: “He who wishes to be first shall be the last of all, and the servant of all.” That is, make other people more important than yourself. And then he uses the example of paying attention to a small child, that is, take time to teach the next generation. Why? Because legacy has legs in it, especially the legs of little children whom we form to be tomorrow’s leaders.

My friends, let me ask you the same probing question that John Maxwell asked Coach Wooden: “What do you want to be remembered for when you leave this earth? What do you want your legacy to be?” Sometimes we priests can get side tracked like the apostles and think we want to be known for building a new church, or writing books, or becoming a bishop. But all those are secondary goals to touching the lives of other people.

I’ll never forget when we bought the Trinity Junior High building a few years ago. We wanted to honor Msgr. Jack Harris by naming something for him. I called him and suggested several options but he kept objecting, “No, John, I don’t want or need anything named for me.” But I kept asking and so he finally relented and replied: “Okay, fine, name one of the bathroom stalls for me!” Tons of teenagers were deeply influenced by Msgr. Harris. His legacy already has lots of legs in it.

One way to honestly answer what we want to be known for is where we spend most of our time and money. Take out your calendar today and review where you spend most of your time last week or last month, especially your free time. And second, take out your checkbook or bank statement and look carefully at where most of your money went last month.

Whether we want to admit it or not, our time and our money are inevitably being spent on what is most important to us. And whether we like it or not, that is what people will remember us for. In other words, will our legacy have any legs in it? You know, I probably spend most of my time and money on Apollo, so I guess my legacy will have four legs in it.

Let me leave you with a provocative poem, which I also came across in one of John Maxwell’s books, called “A Little Chap.” It goes: “A careful man I ought to be, / A little fellow follows me. / I do not dare to go astray, / For fear he’ll go the self-same way. / I cannot one escape his eyes, / Whatever he sees me do, he tries. / Like me, he says he’s going to be, / The little chap who follows me.

“He thinks that I am good and fine, / Believes in every word of mine. / The base in me he must not see, / That little fellow who follows me. / I must remember as I go, / Thru summer’s sun and winter’s snow, / I am building for the years to be, / This little chape who follows me.” In other words, those little chaps are precisely the legs in our legacy.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Flute and Dirge

Opening our ears of faith to hear God’s voice

09/18/2024

Lk 7:31-35 Jesus said to the crowds: “To what shall I compare the people of this generation? What are they like? They are like children who sit in the marketplace and call to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, but you did not dance. We sang a dirge, but you did not weep.’ For John the Baptist came neither eating food nor drinking wine, and you said, ‘He is possessed by a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking and you said, ‘Look, he is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.’ But wisdom is vindicated by all her children.”

Perhaps you have heard the old joke about the man on his roof during a flood. A rowboat came by and the rescuer shouted, “Jump in, I can save you!” The stranded man replied, “No, it’s okay. I’m praying to God and he is going to save me.” Then a motorboat came by an hour later as the water was rising and the fellow shouted, “Jump in, I can save you!” Again the man on the roof responded: “No, God will save me!”

Finally, as the water had reached his feet, a helicopter flew by and the rescuer yelled, “Grab the rope, I can save you!” But the stubborn man insisted: “No thanks! I have faith that God will save me!” Well, the water continued to rise and eventually the man drowned and died. He went to heaven and had a chance to discuss his demise with God.

He complained: “Lord, I had faith in you and prayed fervently. Why didn’t you save me?” God answered, “I sent you two boats and a helicopter! What more did you expect?” In other words, God is always aware of our position and plight – as St. Augustine said he is closer to us than we are to ourselves – but sometimes we expect the water to miraculously part instead of a simpler natural solution to our problems.

In the gospel today Jesus also discusses the different ways God speaks to us but we miss his messages. He explains: “For John the Baptist came neither eating food nor drinking wine and you said, ‘He is possessed by a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking and you said, ‘Look, he is a glutton and a drunkard.’” That is, sometimes God speaks through our pains but at other times he speaks through our pleasures.

C. S. Lewis put it perfectly: “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” John the Baptist was God’s voice shouting in pain and speaking in conscience, while Jesus was God’s voice whispering through pleasures, like eating and drinking. But the people turned a deaf ear.

As Franz Werfel in the novel “The Song of Bernadette” said: “For those who believe, no explanation is necessary. For those who do not believe no explanation is possible.” In other words, for believers God is speaking, whispering, and shouting all the time, and we open our ears to hear his symphony of love. For those who do not believe God is mute and never speaks to us.

My friends, may I give you a little homily homework today to train your ears to hear God’s voice? Why? Well, so you don’t end up like that poor man on the roof during the flood. Try to notice the three ways God’s voice is heard by people of faith. First, try to notice one way God whispers in our pleasures. Quality time spent with family and friends, a good delicious meal, a vigorous game of tennis. Can you hear God whispering “I love you” in these pleasures he has given us for our enjoyment? God is like a father who delights to see his children happy.

Second, listen for God’s voice speaking in your conscience. Good old Catholic guilt is one way we hear God’s voice in our hearts, and it often sounds a lot like the voice of our mom and dad, or the strict nun who taught us in fourth grade. God is a good Father who speaks to his children to grow up and become saints, and not remain childish selfish sinners. Every night before we go to bed we should examine our conscience, opening our ears to God’s voice and then opening our mouths to ask his forgiveness.

And third, God shouts to us in our pains. Nothing helps people turn back to God or come back to church like our pains and problems. A divorce, a lost job, an illness, and most especially the death of a loved one. Just like lots of family reunions revolve around the death of a grandparent or parent, so funeral Masses are full of people who haven’t darkened church doors for a long time. God shouts to us in our pains. He does not want us to suffer, of course, but sometimes that is the only way he can get our attention.

Folks, God’s voice is like a symphony of love reverberating all around us, if only we open our ears to listen. Listen then again to Jesus’ words in the gospel: “We played the flute for you, but you did not dance. We sang a dirge, but you did not weep.” Today, try not to miss the flute and dirge of God's communication, otherwise, you might end up like the poor man on the roof during the flood.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Get a Dog

Learning how to embrace our human nature

09/17/2024

Lk 7:11-17 Jesus journeyed to a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd accompanied him. As he drew near to the gate of the city, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. A large crowd from the city was with her. When the Lord saw her, he was moved with pity for her and said to her, "Do not weep." He stepped forward and touched the coffin; at this the bearers halted, and he said, "Young man, I tell you, arise!" The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, exclaiming, "A great prophet has arisen in our midst," and "God has visited his people." This report about him spread through the whole of Judea and in all the surrounding region.

When I first got my dog Apollo lots of people asked me why I decided to get a dog. At first, my reason was to celebrate my 10 year anniversary as pastor of Immaculate Conception. But a better reason has emerged more recently, namely, Apollo makes me more human. Sometimes people are intimidated by a priest in a Roman collar. They think we are from another planet. If men are from Mars and women are from Venus, then priests are from Pluto, the farthest planet in the solar system and now downgraded and not even a planet.

But when people – even perfect strangers – see me with Apollo, suddenly they feel moved to talk to me. They say, “That’s a beautiful dog!” or they ask, “May I pet your dog?” And the best experience of all is when young couples come for marriage preparation. The young lady is usually polite and cheerful, but the young man is often stoic and standoffish.

But when he hears Apollo bark in my office, his face lights up and he becomes “Chatty Cathy” telling me about his dog and asking about mine. In seminary, they taught us how to become more like Christ’s divine nature – in persona Christi (in the person of Christ) – but Apollo has helped me discover Christ’s human nature. How “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (Jn 1:14).

In the gospel today, we see another instance of when Jesus sort of “let’s his hair down” and shows his human nature. He raises a young man back to life and gives him back to his widowed mother. When I was in seminary as a deacon, I preached on this gospel and said Jesus had a premonition of his own death and the heart-breaking sorrow his own widowed mother.

It seems to be a rather spontaneous miracle – moved by the tender love a son for his mother’s pain and sorrow – and not part of a larger divine strategic plan, like when I decided to get Apollo. In other words, it was just Jesus being human and maybe made him a little more approachable too: just a kid who loves his mom. Jesus’ behavior seemed a little less like Pluto and much more like earth.

My friends, it is not only us priests who can seem like we are from another planet, but we can all fall into that trap. That is, we can try to hide our humanity and try to appear better than we really are. We say things like “real men don’t cry” and we hold back our tears. Or maybe we refrain from smiling too much or laughing out loud – or laughing at ourselves – because we think it is a sign of weakness.

Or, we rarely admit we are wrong, or make mistakes, or apologize because we fear other people will think less of us. Like us seminarians we try hard to embrace Christ’s divine nature (and hope to appear perfect) and forget he also had a beautiful, tender human nature as well. We, too, need to learn to let our own hair down, even if we don’t have any.

G. K. Chesterton ends his autobiography called “Orthodoxy” enumerating ways Jesus let his hair down to show his humanity. He writes: “The Stoics, ancient and modern, were proud of concealing their tears; [Jesus] showed them plainly on His open face at any daily sight, such as the far sight of His native city…

“Solemn supermen and imperial diplomats are proud of restraining their anger; He never restrained his anger. He flung furniture down the front steps of the Temple, and asked men how they expected to escape the damnation of Hell.” In other words, a careful reading of the gospels reveals a Jesus who wanted us to see both his divinity but also his humanity, almost as if he, too, had a dog named Apollo.

There is an old saying that always makes me pause and think: “Don’t be so heavenly minded that you’re no earthly good.” That is, sometimes we can think so much about heaven – returning to Pluto our true home – that we forget we have landed on earth to accomplish an urgent mission. Part of that earthly mission is to discover our humanity – it’s blessings, burdens, and brokenness – so that all of it can be redeemed by Christ. And one of the best ways to get in touch with our humanity is to get a dog.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

The Spice of Life

Learning what it means to carry our cross behind Christ

09/15/2024

Mk 8:27-35 Jesus and his disciples set out for the villages of Caesarea Philippi. Along the way he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" They said in reply, "John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others one of the prophets." And he asked them, "But who do you say that I am?" Peter said to him in reply, "You are the Christ." Then he warned them not to tell anyone about him. He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and rise after three days. He spoke this openly. Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. At this he turned around and, looking at his disciples, rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do." He summoned the crowd with his disciples and said to them, "Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it."

When people first meet me, they are surprised how American I am. I don’t have a thick Indian accent, I don’t have a dot on my forehead, and I cannot even criss-cross applesauce my legs and sit Indian-style on the floor. My brother likes to say that we are basically like Oreo cookies because we are brown on the outside and white on the inside. The only thing Indian about me is this deep island tan I still have.

But one thing I am beginning to rediscover and slowly reintegrate from my Indian culture is a love for spicy food. I grew up in Little Rock, and like most kids my age my favorite foods were pizza, hamburgers, and hotdogs, and the spiciest thing on my plate was the relish for my hotdog. I turned my nose up at the spicy Indian food my mom and dad prepared at home. Why? Well, the spicy food made me sweat, and would give me hiccups, which were very embarrassing for a self-conscious teenager.

But now I have learned to appreciate the spicy food my mom and dad still cook. The sweat and hiccups signal that my taste buds have grown up and matured and I can finally judge truly good food. Msgr. Scott Friend, who loves spicy Mexican food, once said, “A good chili pepper burns you twice.” I don’t know what exactly he meant by that; maybe someone can explain it after Mass. In any case, sometimes spicy Indian food can cause some discomfort, but that is when you can truly appreciate an Indian delicacy.

In the gospel today, Jesus also discusses the discomfort of following him, that is, some sweat equity, some suffering will be required of his disciples. He tells the crowds, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” But notice Peter’s reaction a few verses earlier when Jesus says that he himself will be an example of suffering.

We read: “Then Peter took [Jesus] aside and began to rebuke him.” In a sense, Peter had an adolescent palate and only wanted the “comfort food” of Christianity, but nothing too spicy that might make him sweat and suffer. In a sense, Peter wanted to be a Christian Oreo: look like Jesus on the outside, but still be worldly and sinful on the inside. He was too immature for the spices and suffering of the truly Christian life.

Let me give you three examples of the spice and suffering that are required for following Christ fully. Our 4th grade teacher, Josey Rowe, shared this experience from last week. She said, “I could tell my students rushed through their religion work so I asked them if they thought they did their best work. They all insisted that they did.

Then I asked, “Would you be proud to show Father John this work?” And they all nodded yes at first, but then paused and Mac said, “Wait. Not Father John!” And they pulled their religion books back out and kept working.” In other words, Fr. John was the “spicy ingredient” that Josey added to her religion class to create a little sweat equity in her students.

Another spice in Christian cooking that causes some sweating is the memory of our past sins. Do you still remember your past sins? Frequently people ask my advice about what to do about the memory of past mistakes they cannot manage to forget. They say they try to erase that memory and even confess those sins several times, but all to no avail.

I suggest that instead of forgetting them, they should embrace those memories as part of the penance for that sin. That is, don’t try to forget it but rather accept it and even sit with it and mull it over, even though it causes pain, embarrassment, and regret. Like the ancient Buddhist maxim, “My enemy, my teacher.’ In other words, a painful memory can be like a spiritually spicy jalapeno pepper that sort of “burns you twice” every time you remember it. That is the spice of the Christian life.

And a third example of spices and suffering is the losses we experience in old age. For instance, our hearing is diminished and we need hearing aids. Our mobility is reduced and we need a cane or a walker. Our ability to drive a car is impaired and we must give up our car keys. Maybe even our short-term memory is curtailed, or we become incontinent, or entirely dependent on others for our care and have to live in a nursing home. We lose our home.

One elderly friend of mine asks me in great anguish: “Why am I still here? I wish God would call me home! I feel to useless and just like a burden on my family and friends!” My friends, instead of wishing to be free of these sufferings – like St. Peter in the gospel – perhaps look at them like the spices Jesus is seasoning your Christianity with. You see, it is exactly this sweat equity of suffering that proves we are not Christian Oreos: Christian on the outside but worldly and sinful on the inside.

Folks, how refined is your Christian palate? Do you still just crave the “comfort food” – give me more mercy, forgiveness, and peace! Or can you handle the spicy food that is part of the full course meal of the followers of Christ? Listen to these perceptive words from St. Paul: “When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child” – and I would add, “eat as a child” – “when I became a man, I put aside childish things” (1 Co 13:11). That is, when we grow up, we too can handle the spice of the Christian life.

Praised be Jesus Christ!