I resolved to know nothing but Christ, Crucified.

In my wonderings around to different parishes, there is a frequent conversation that happens in the sacristy prior to Mass: 'What does St. Paul mean in this reading?'

As Catholics, we tend to study the Gospels the most. With the arrangement of the Lectionary Cycle, we can often see the typology of Christ hidden in the Old Testament, but St. Paul's writings are often lost to most of us. Even as a priest, I often overlook the Second Reading at Mass when preparing my homily.

Today's Second Reading gives us an insight into how to interpret the entirety of the Pauline corpus, and I want to look a little more in depth at this for our reflections today. In fact, I think there are two key hermeneutical lenses that can give us an insight into the writings of St. Paul.

First, Life in Christ: For St. Paul, the primary motivator for his journeys and his writings is to exhort the growing Christian community into a new life in Christ: Put on Christ over the old life of sin. In that time frame, there was such a dramatic conversion that was needed, he had to be forceful with his audiences (see, for example, the stupid Galatians!). He has experienced that conversion and desperately desires for his fellow believers to have that same joy that he has found in Christ.

The challenge becomes how do we continue to live that life in Christ? This is where today's Second Reading gives us the particular insight: 'I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Christ, and Him Crucified!' For St. Paul, this is the key into that life in Christ. The central event not just in Salvation History, but in all of human history is the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ, the Divine Son of God. By this one event, all of human history has been changed. Therefore, when we enter into that particular mystery, all of life is changed.

This becomes an interpretive key for the modern day, as well. As a priest, I am convinced that life in Christ, particularly in the Cross, it what unites us all. For there is one thing that we have in common across the human condition: we suffer. We have our own weaknesses, we have suffered because of the weaknesses and sins of others directed at ourselves, we all sin.

Yet, by entering into the Crucifixion, we are able to overcome or pass through those sufferings to experience the joy that comes in the Resurrection. In fact, as we go through that suffering, we come to have a deeper awareness and appreciation of that joy that comes in Christ! 

In this: life in Christ, and Him Crucified, we find the deeper joy that transcends our human weaknesses, transcends even the limits of time and space: we find joy that is rooted in Christ.

As we embrace this joy, then we are able to truly be the salt of the earth and the light of the world, spicing this world with the truth of the Gospel and leading others to Christ by the light of faith that shines in our willingness to proclaim Christ, and Him Crucified.

A Day of Contrasts (Palm Sunday Homily)

Today is a day of contrasts.

We begin Palm Sunday Mass with the triumphal entry of Our Lord into Jerusalem. We chant with the crowds from that day: 'Hosanna to the Son of David!'

Shortly thereafter, the mood turns much more somber and severe as we yell out with the crowds just a few short days later: 'Crucify Him! Crucify Him!'

This day (and indeed this upcoming week) is jarring, moving from one extreme to the other.

By doing so, the Church invites us to reflect upon our own lives, to consider by our words and deeds, by our action or inaction, which crowd are we truly a part of.

Do our actions, does our testimony to Christ chant with that welcoming crowd: 'Hosanna to the Son of David!'

Do our sins, our inability to give testimony to Christ, scream out: 'Crucify Him! Crucify Him!'

I know I like to think that I am always in the prior grouping, rather than the latter. But I am not always so sure. St. Josemaria Escriva, in his reflections on this day, recognizes this tension: "I like to think that I am always welcoming to Christ, but then I recognize my sins, my weaknesses, the times in my life when I have been too much like Peter in failing to testify that I even know Jesus. Even worse, have there been times when I was even like Judas in betraying My Lord?"

As we begin Holy Week, the Church invites us to take some extra time this week to focus and pray on whether we are in the first group (Hosanna!) or in the latter (Crucify!). We invite you to take part in these three special days of the Triduum. To walk with Our Lord over his last days on earth that we might truly enter into His Passion, so that we might enjoy the fruits of His Resurrection all the more.

We walk this journey with Him, that we might continue our path of conversion, our continued turning of the heart to the Lord, so that we might always and everywhere proclaim by thought, word and deed: Hosanna to the Son of David, rather than cry out: Crucify Him! Crucify Him!

Christ as Source of Salvation (Sunday Homily)

I’ve got a secret to tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else, in fact, especially don’t tell your pastor, because, well, he might not let me back….

Fr. Reutter/Fr. St. George, well, he is, ummm…, a sinner.  He is not perfect.  In fact, there are things that he struggles with.  Now, be assured I am not breaking a seal of confession, as I am pretty sure he has never gone to confession to me, nor would I really want him to, unless it is an emergency.  But how do I know that he is a sinner?  Well, because the second secret is that I am a sinner, too.  I have weaknesses, I have foibles, I make mistakes, I fall down.  It isn’t the place to discuss them openly, but rest assured, I am very sure that I am not perfect.  Ask my mother!

But I don’t say this as if it is a bad thing, in fact, it is a very good thing to have your priest, your pastor, be a sinner.  It is something that I became conscious of very soon after I was ordained a priest.  Even though I am still working out my own salvation as a Catholic Christian, salvation which involves me now serving Christ as a Priest, I must also help others in their path to salvation.  It is the marvelous way that Christ set up His Church, that even though it is the Spirit who is in charge, He works through the instruments of very imperfect agents.  So it is important to pray for your priests, as they in turn, pray for you.

I do not say this to beg for prayers, even though I am very much in need of them, I do this in recognition of our First Reading today, for this is exactly what the priests of the Old Covenant, at the time of the Captivity, failed to realize.  They forgot that they were there as God’s instruments, to help lead the people towards salvation.  Instead, as we hear in the Second Book of Chronicles, they ‘added infidelity to infidelity, practicing all the abominations of the nations and polluting the LORD’s temple, which he had consecrated in Jerusalem.’  The priests should have known better, but became comfortable in their position and in their status, in their place as leaders, and no longer call the people to conversion, no longer cared about the right sacrifice in the Temple, they no longer recognized their own need for salvation and that they were supposed to lead others to salvation.

Because of this, God destroyed the Temple and allowed them to be carted off into Exile.  We hear echoes of the shame in the Psalm for today: “We hung our harps by the streams of Babylon and sat and wept, for Zion, God’s Holy City has been destroyed!”

But this fact that we priests are sinners and imperfect, in fact that we all are imperfect and sinners, is something which we strangely rejoice over!  So many times throughout the Old Covenant, God tried to reach out and restore us to His friendship, restore us to a place of honor in Creation.  But the more He called us to conversion, the more we turned our hearts against him.  While Moses and Aaron were present, we did fairly well, but even then the Golden Calf was made.  During the time of judges and prophets, the people of Israel were sometimes good, as long as a righteous leader was present.  But soon, they would fall back into their old ways.  The Kings were an unmitigated disaster!

But in the New Covenant, the Covenant founded in Christ, we no longer have to rely on the weaknesses and foibles of the priests, for we have a perfect priest whom we all worship: Jesus Christ!  And what we see in this snippet of the passage of the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, is the whole key that will turn this whole thing we call the experiment of life around: John 3:16.  There are many apparent answers to why Christ came to this Earth, but here we have a summary of his whole mission, a short summary which, I think, we should all memorize: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish, but might have eternal life.”

This is the key!  Christ came not to be a good teacher, not even to embrace the poor, not to be a spiritual role model, he came to save us from our sins, so that we can dwell with him forever.  If we are here to experience something other than salvation, if we are here looking for something other than that great gift of Salvation; we are here for the wrong reasons.  Salvation is first and foremost what we are about.  My salvation.  My coming to know Christ so much, that I cannot wait to be with him not only in this life, but also in the next.  This is what drives the Church’s mission to the poor, this is what drives her commitment to social justice, because it helps me to know that Christ died for my sins, in a way that is perfect and eternal, and unlimited.  And I want others to know about it.

Hence, we rejoice that we are sinners, for when we forget that we are in need of salvation, we forget that we are in need of Christ.  It starts with the Holy Father, it runs through every priest and bishop, and drives every Catholic and Christian in the world to be Christ’s agent of light out in the midst of the world.

As we reach this midpoint of the Lenten Season, let us rejoice that we have so great a redeemer who won for us Salvation.  But let us also strive to always recognize our great need for redemption, for it is only in that recognition are our hearts truly opened to receive the powerful and great light of Christ, which will dispel the darkness of sin and radiate the bright joy of Everlasting Life.

Abraham, Our Father in Faith (Sunday Homily)

Delivered at the Cathedral and Our Lady of Victory:

The first reading that we have today is one of those almost garish readings from the Old Testament.  To our modern ears, it is incredible that God would ask for a human sacrifice, that God would seemingly demand that Abraham, after a long journey of faith, would now have to kill the one gift that he has been waiting and waiting for: the gift of his son.

Plus, today the Church comes out so vociferously on the side of life, which this seems to be a senseless act.  How is it that a Church that is so pro-life could hold up the example found in this Scripture passage?

Well, as we look at this passage, I think what has to be kept in mind is that this is a passage about Abraham, not Isaac, his story will be told later.  In our typical modern mindset, it is easy to lose track of the scope and depth of the story of Abraham, how he became our Father in Faith, that this story jumps off the page at us.  So, let us turn back and look at his example, so that we may learn from his faith.

In the early part of his life, even after he was given the great promise from God that ‘he would become the father of many nations,’ Abraham always traveled with a security blanket, so to speak.  When he was called to leave his homeland, he took his nephew Lot with him.  When he visited Egypt, he sold his wife out to the pharaoh, so that he would not become jealous of Abraham.  He protects his son Ishmael (through the harlot Hagar) when his wife Sarah tries to send him away, because she knew that as long as Ishmael was with Abraham, Abraham would not fully trust.

All through this process, God is working on Abraham, trying to increase his faith, so that finally God is able to grant that deep desire of Abraham’s heart: once that heart is fully purified, God grants that Isaac may be born.  The promise made many, many years ago is finally starting to be fulfilled.  Abraham’s faith is now true, and centered on nothing else.  What becomes remarkable at this stage is that he is no longer holding on to some type of security blanket, but is ready and willing to give back to God the great gift that God has given to him in his son.  What a beautiful testimony!

But there is an even deeper level than this.  Whenever we read the Old Testament as Catholics, we always read it through the lens of Christ, typology is inescapable.

Here, in the passage that was trimmed from the pericope that we have heard is how Isaac carried the wood of his own impending sacrifice up the hill to the place of Sacrifice.  This immediately brings to mind Jesus carrying his cross up the Hill of Calvary.  The Church Fathers richly developed this theme and expounded upon it in the years after Jesus life, death and resurrection.

But there is even something more that is here in this passage that has another impact for the Christian believer.  Ancient Jews, even up to the very day of Christ were very aware of where Mt. Moriah was.  They knew what happened on that mountain, for it was known in their day as Temple Mount.  This is the last part of the Holy Land that was conquered by the people, this was the mountain that as David brought up the Ark of the Covenant, he danced before it naked in jubilation.  Finally, this holy site from the deep recesses of the past was part of the patrimony of the Jews.  It was on this mountain that Solomon built the first Temple, the Western Wall still stands today (of the later Temple.)

Jewish Christians at the time of Jesus and the Apostles would have been very aware of these connections, and it would have confirmed the truth of who and what Jesus truly was.

But there is even more!  In the comparison between the Sacrifice of Isaac and the future Sacrifice of Christ, we see how the New Covenant completed and replaced the Old Covenant, for the New took it to a deeper degree.

The Sacrifice of Isaac is not only a foreshadow of Christ’s Sacrifice, but it is also a foreshadow of the Old Covenant Sacrifice, which was imperfect.  Abraham wanted to give the greatest gift he had been given (Isaac) by God back to God, but was prevented by God’s own hand.  Instead, Abraham offers a propitiatory sacrifice, a sacrifice of the ram caught in the thicket as a replacement for his very own son.  In the Old Covenant begun under Aaron and Moses, the priest had to do the same thing.  He had to first offer, on the Day of Atonement, a propitiatory sacrifice of a bull, in place of himself, because he could not offer himself.

In the New Covenant, the Sacrifice is no longer of one offering another, it is now Christ offering Himself.  This makes all of the difference!  By giving Himself, He is able to overcome the weaknesses of the Old Covenant and establish an unbreakable bond between the human race and God.  All things become new in Christ!  The limitations and weaknesses of the old are completed and renewed in Christ.  This is what we are preparing to enter anew at Easter.

Therefore, as we continue our journey through Lent, what we see in the example of Abraham and of Christ is that it is not enough to offer God just the leftovers, what remains after we have taken care of ourselves.  Rather, let us throw off the security blankets that we have accumulated around us and offer back to God the most precious gift that He has bestowed upon us: our very gift of self as an offering back to God, in the model and mode of Christ, that He may do as He wishes with our lives and build and establish His Kingdom through us.

Lessons from Noah (Sunday Homily)

Often in the structure of the Church’s cycle of Liturgical Readings, the selection of the First Reading is geared towards an understanding of the Gospel reading, so that we are able to better understand the mystery of Christ by seeing how He was foreshadowed in the Old Testament.  Therefore, a few weeks ago when we had the story of Jesus curing the Leper, it was informed and explained by the selection from Leviticus that dealt with how Lepers were to be treated in the Jewish community.

Today, however, there seems to be a greater connection between the First Reading and the Second Reading, and well the Gospel sort of hangs out there by itself.  (I’m stretching a little bit here, but stay with me.)

In our first reading, we hear of the response of God to Noah upon the landing of the Ark.  As the great ship lands, the first thing that Noah does is to offer a sacrifice of praise before God.  He takes the finest of the clean animals and gives them to God to say ‘thanks’ for bringing him and his family safely through the flood.  God then repeats the instruction that he gave to Adam to ‘fill the Earth and subdue it,’ but then extends his promise to Noah in an even greater way with the words that we have here:  “I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants; and through you to every living creature that was with you on the Ark.”

How is it that Noah is so privileged to be bestowed such a great promise?  To see that, we have to turn back even further in Genesis, prior to the Flood.  He was found worthy because he trusted in God and followed His commands, even though it cost him ridicule, even though it cost him a lack of respect, even though he was shunned from the community; after all, they would all be destroyed in the flood while God would protect Noah and his family.  When Noah heard the invitation to build the Ark, he responded in faith and action, and then becomes a model for what will happen in Christian Baptism, as the waters of the Great Flood washed the sins off the face of the Earth, the waters of Baptism wash the sins from the one who is to be baptized.

But as we come to the First Letter of Peter that we heard today, the image of how God works with His people is fleshed out even more.  We continue to call to mind the story of the flood, how even after the Ark was built by Noah, God waited seven days before He sent the waters of the flood on the Earth.  This is a very important detail then to St. Peter in his letter, for it shows that when one of the faithful responds to God’s invitation, God allows that person to be an example and invitation to others, a witness, an evangelist, so to speak, to draw others into conversion and contrition.  God waited after the Ark was built to give them the chance to repent and then also board the ship so that they too might be saved, yet they rejected that.

Noah’s example of being persecuted, Noah’s example of suffering, was in itself and invitation to his brothers and sisters at the time to accept God’s invitation, and they refuse.

This, then, is the idea that St. Peter picks up and develops in his letter, a letter written at a time where severe persecutions had not yet broken out, but was starting to develop.  At the time, slaves who had become Christians were being maltreated.  Sons and daughters who came into the Faith were being excluded from wills and family structures; the culture was becoming more and more hostile to the faith; and Peter writes to encourage his fellow Christians to fight the good fight, to keep true to the faith, so that those who suffer for doing what is right may have a clear conscience and follow God reservedly.

This then, is the important lesson that we have for today, as well.  We find ourselves in a culture very much like what the early Church found itself in.  Our world no longer understands who we are and what we do, and when one is faithful to the teachings of Christ found in the Church, that person is often reviled and put to shame in the eyes of this world.  When a Catholic family rejoices in the birth of even their fourth or fifth child, much less eighth or ninth, the response is often: “There’s a pill for that, you know.”  When someone takes the time to pray during the day, their boss might challenge them to ‘get back to work and stop wasting time.’  When someone refuses to join the sports program on a Sunday morning because they feel a necessity to come to Mass, the child is cut from the team.

Let us resolve during this season of Lent to willingly boast of these revilements, to suffer in patience as did Noah and Job before us, so that we might be living invitations to our brothers and sisters to come to know Christ in a deeper and more profound way.  So that we might have a clear conscience in following Christ, and by the joy that comes from being a committed and intentional disciple of Christ, might win others for the sake of the Kingdom.

Things noticed in Readings

It's funny how the mind can wander at times during Mass.  I know, I should be paying attention to the readings, but sometimes things just jump out at you, even after you've read the readings time and time again in homily preparation.

As a little backstory, I've been listening to a series of 8 cd's by Scott Hahn on the Letter to the Hebrews (AMAZING!), and one of his main points during his presentation is that you can't just look at the reading itself, especially when the author quotes a segment of the Old Testament, you have to look at the context; ie what's happening before and after the quoted passage, because the author often has that in mind as well in quoting a specific passage.

Ok, with that in mind, I heard once again in the First Reading from Leviticus for today's Mass that lepers were to remove themselves from the camp and make their dwelling outside the abode.

Fast forward to the Gospel, the wonderful image of Jesus touching the leper, when they were to be shunned and avoided at all costs, is such a powerful image for me.  (Especially with my suffering from Discoid Lupus, which I always wonder if it would have branded me a leper at the time of Jesus.)

Anyway, to touch a leper was to make oneself ritually impure, in a sense to take on the disease for yourself.  And at the end of the Gospel passage, notice where Jesus is: he is now outside the villages and has to dwell there.

This is a forshadowing of his propetiary sacrifice.  He is starting to take the sufferings and sins of the crowd onto himself so that when His mission on earth is to be completed on the Cross, He has gathered it all to Himself and can then offer it all, the weaknesses, sins and illnesses that aflict the human race, back to the Father.

It is so easy to slide over these details, even as a homilist.  Yet, when we are able to take that step back and see this particular story in the context of the whole breadth of Scripture, wowzers.

Epiphany

So, there are many tacts that one could take for today's feast.

Certainly an important aspect is how the universal nature of Salvation is forshadowed in the coming of the Magi from the East.

The Secret (Prayer over the Gifts) hints at the symbolism contained in the gifts presented by the Magi.

I went with a slightly different tact for today:

How often do we miss the signs that God is doing around us?

King Herod was at least part Jewish, he should have known the Scriptures, he should have known the prophecies as they concerned the Christ; especially since he was the 'King' and the Messiah was reputed to be after his job, so to speak.

Yet, when these Magi show up, he acts as if he has never heard the prophecies and has to consult with the chief priests and the scribes as to where the Christ was to be born.

On the flip side, the Magi arrive being so in tune with what God is doing, even though they are outside of the Covenant, that they are able to recognize how nature, through the appearence of the start, is exulting in the coming of the New Born King of the Jews.

How often do we miss what God is revealing to us, through the Scriptures, through the leadership of the Heirarchy, through the Sacraments, and yes then even through nature.  (notice the order, nature is last!)

That's at least a snapshot of my homily for today given out at St. Angela Merici Parish in Brown County, about an hour east of downtown Cincinnati.

What do we seek? (Sunday Homily)

What do we seek? Saint Augustine’s wonderful line keeps echoing to us through the centuries: “Our hearts are restless until the rest in you, O God.” Yet, we continue to seek and not find, we continue to look, but not see; the doors we knock upon are not opened. Is this because God has stopped listening to our prayers? In this season where we prepare for the coming of Christ at the end of time in addition to Christmas; his can seem a disheartening prospect!

Yet, I think with the example we have from the Gospel account for today, we may take some solace; because what we start to see here in this passage is that the authorities from Jerusalem, seeking to fill the restlessness of their hearts in coming out to hear and witness John the Baptist’s mission out in the wilderness. When they come out to him, they come with questions, but they are the wrong questions! Even worse, as John directs them to the right questions, they refuse to follow his lead and stubbornly follow their preconceived notions of what they are after!

Let’s walk back through that dialogue to see where they went wrong, and then how we might learn from their mistakes so that we can ask the right questions.

First, it is important to call to mind the stark image that John presents in the Gospels, which we heard described last week: he is an imposing figure, and one which hearkens back immediately to the great prophets of old: the leather belt, the garment of camel’s hair, the un-kept hair and beard: his mere appearance is one to challenge the niceties of the day.

So, these leaders from Jerusalem come out and are confronted by this mysterious figure and ask the natural question: ‘Who are you?” John’s answer is one to direct them to the right question: “I am not the Christ, the Messiah, the Anointed one.” So, who is? Do you know? John follows his role in pointing others to Christ, but they stay focused on him instead, asking him this litany of questions which he refuses to answer and constantly points back to Christ: Are you a prophet? NO! Are you Elijah? NO! “I am the voice crying out in the desert: make straight the paths of the Lord!”

What they fail to ask is if he knows the one who is coming, they are so focused on their own agenda, that they fail to see the forest for the trees.

Where it comes down to us, then, is that I think that the leaders from Jerusalem fall into a very likely trap that, perhaps, we too often fall into: we get so caught up in asking God to answer our specific questions and needs, that we fail to hear the direction in the answers, we fail to hear God giving us the directions to a deeper relationship with Himself.

St. Andrew, A Model for Advent

My homily for the First Sunday of Advent, delivered at Holy Redeemer, New Bremen, Ohio. On a side note, it was good to put faces to names, specifically Jamie S. and Wife, Mother, and so much more.

As we begin the Church year once again on this First Sunday of Advent, we naturally start at the end. Instead of looking at the beginning of Creation in the Garden of Eden, we look first to the end of time and Christ’s return in glory. Certainly, it does seem an odd place to start a ‘New Year,’ but what the Church wants to do in starting in such a way is to give us a focus for our lives by focusing on what is of most importance to the Church. This focus on the End is a call to mind that we are to cooperate with the Grace of Christ in building up the Kingdom of God here on Earth, that at some point which we do not know, Christ will come again and we will be called to give account of the stewardship of the gifts that God has given to us to share.
Ok, great, how do we do this? That’s the challenge, and it really is a challenge that each one of us has to face individually; but there are some common elements that each disciple goes through. To highlight that example, I want to focus on the Saint who would be celebrated today, if today was not a Sunday.
November 30th is set aside to honor St. Andrew, one of the initial disciples of Jesus, and the one, importantly, who brought Peter to meet Jesus while they were in the wilderness with John the Baptist. It is a fairly simple story from the First Chapter of the Gospel according to John: Andrew is listening to John the Baptist when Jesus walks by, and John simply says: “Behold, the Lamb of God.” Intrigued, Andrew follows after Jesus who turns and invites Andrew to ‘Come and See’ where he is staying. But before he goes, he first finds his brother Simon and brings him along.
This little episode, comprising all of 8 versus in the Scripture, provides a paradigm of how we are to be prepared for the Coming of Christ at the End of Time. Simply, through our own quest of Discipleship, through our own pilgrimage of faith, our witness to others in both grand and small ways, should be an invitation to that other person to ‘Come and See’ where Jesus is, both here in the Church and personally in our lives as Christian disciples.
The challenge, and how this becomes ever new in the lives of the Christian Believer, is that the situation is always changing, Our Lord keeps upping the ante on us, so that he is always putting us in new situations where we might respond to His invitation of Grace at an ever deeper level. We must be prepared to give our witness no matter where we are, no matter what we are doing.
Yikes, I know this sounds extremely Protestant, but it was ours before it was theirs! And, in fact, in talking with Protestant converts to the Catholic faith, even Protestant clergy members who have left behind everything to come to the One True Faith, one of the biggest stumbling blocks that they have found is the witness of ordinary Catholics who seem to not realize the treasures that we have here in the Faith. Their eyes start to be opened to the great mystery of the Eucharist, to the wonders of all the Seven Sacraments, yet they see a lackadaisical attitude among so many Catholics that they are confused.
So, what are we to do? We have to be constantly aware of opportunities that God presents us with to share our faith, and not be afraid to take advantage of that chance to invite someone else to ‘come and see.

Fr. V's gone and done it!

His 'Guest Blogger C' has given priests the 'list of what to preach on' which will take what, I think, 15 years to accomplish!

Basically, it is the list that priests think people know, but in reality most are clueless.

One favor to ask: if he starts hitting these and gets the flack, make sure you support him by writing to the Bishop and saying 'My, it is wonderful how Fr. X is really calling us all to conversion!'

Living the Faith (Sunday Homily)

“What will separate us from the love of Christ?”
With these words, we are brought back to the First Century of Christianity. St. Paul is writing to the nascent community in Rome, a community that is struggling to grow, a community that will shortly see most of its leadership eliminated through the crown of martyrdom. Yet, this is not the source of dismay and despair for the new Church in Rome, rather it is a source of encouragement and power: we have been found worthy to suffer for the sake of Christ! They are able to strip away everything else, yet the Imperial Roman government will never be able to break their relationship with Christ; and in fact, by the persecutions, they only serve to strengthen that relationship!
Yet, where are we today? In many ways, we find ourselves in a very similar situation to the early Roman Church: the culture is hedonistic and hostile to the faith; committed Catholic Christians are being silenced and persecuted for practicing their faith (see the stealing and destruction of the ‘stop planned parenthood’ signs that is happening on the West Side of Cincinnati.) Yet in all of this, it is still very easy to slide along as a Catholic, come to Mass on Sundays, yet not stand up in any bold and dramatic way for what the Church teaches and believes.
Part of the issue that St. Paul is addressing here, and the issue truly is timeless, is the question of how we see our identity in the Church and in the world, because these two dimensions have always been in tension with one another. Obviously, I want to focus on our membership in the Church. I see two fundamental approaches that we can have: Membership in a club or a living member of the Body of Christ.
First, membership in a club approach: This approach is one where we see our status in the Church as something for which I signed up; I pay my dues with my Sunday offering, I support ‘the club’ with my volunteer opportunities, and I may occasionally venture out to another branch if it is more convenient, but if I can’t work Mass in this Sunday, well, it’s no big deal. I mean, really, is God upset if I miss once in a while? To me, this approach leaves something to be desired, as notice this is all something that ‘I’ choose to do, it follows the ego-centrism that is bred in our culture.
The Second option, however, turns this approach around. To be a living member of the Body of Christ instills the obligations found within Catholicism on the very heart and soul of the believer, and he or she becomes a joy filled and exuberant messenger for Christ. Because the believer has been chosen and selected by Christ, all of these things flow naturally in gratitude for the gifts that have been received from Christ. In this approach, we want to go to Mass, we want to give to the parish, we want to share our faith with the world because we have been changed by our encounter with Christ; and I want others to know that they, too, can be changed by this same encounter!
To see yourself as a ‘living member of the Body of Christ,’ down to the very core of your being, guides everything that I say and do in this world; and nothing, neither anguish, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, nor sword could ever take this most precious gift away from me.
As we do this, the parish becomes alive, even more so than it already is. You become more effective and transparent witnesses of Christ out in the world. You become a ‘little evangelist’ just by your presence and joy at coming to know Christ; and it effects and transforms all those around you.
Be convicted in Christ, be a witness for Him. Sure, there will be persecutions and misunderstandings and trials, but nothing in this world will ever be able to separate you from Christ, and, as St. Paul says, I am more than able to conquer anything in my path because of the love of Christ within me.

St. Paul, Sunday Homily

Sts. Peter and Paul, Apostles
Inauguration of the Year of St. Paul
June 29, 2008, St. Mary, Hyde Park

Yes, the Church was founded by Christ himself, this much is non-negotiable. However, from the very beginning of his public ministry, he passed along the authority and leadership to a few select individuals who would carry on his message to the ends of the world.
Primary among these is St. Peter to whom Christ gave the keys of authority, as we hear about in our Gospel passage this morning. From the very beginning, he was always seen as the Prince of the Apostles, and when he spoke, the matter was settled. It is this authority that is passed down to us through the leadership of the Holy Father, the Pope.
However, as this is the year of the 2000th anniversary of St. Paul’s birth, Pope Benedict XVI has declared that for the next twelve months, we should focus on the life and ministry of this Apostle to the Gentiles, the great co-worker of Peter and whose preaching enabled to the Church to grow from a small segment of Judaism into her own worldwide dominance.
First, let’s take a look at his life and times. From his writings and from the legends that have been passed down to us, we learn that Paul was not born in the Holy Land, but rather in Tarsus, a city on the southern shore of Asia Minor, modern day Turkey. His mother was Jewish, his father was a Roman citizen, so unique among the Apostles, he too was a citizen of Rome. He was not just a scholar of the Law, but also knew the value of labor, for he worked as a tentmaker.
His early life was marked, however, by being a member of the party of the Pharisees, scholars of the Law who felt that if they followed the Mosaic Law perfectly, God would be forced to intervene in the life of the people Israel and re-establish the Kingdom. As such, ritual purity was vitally important to them. Hence, you can see the results that happen in Jesus’ interactions with the Pharisees, as they were concerned only with the externals and not with anything internal.
As can be seen from early in the Acts of the Apostles, it seems that St. Paul (or Saul at the time) was a leader in the party of the Pharisees as well, for his first appearance in the Scriptures us at the martyrdom of St. Stephen in Chapter 7 of the Acts of the Apostles. Those committing this crime ‘lay their cloaks at the feet of Saul.’
Despite this persecution of the Church, Saul (soon to be renamed Paul) is handpicked by Jesus to be the Apostle sent to the Gentiles, those who are outside of the Jewish covenant. On a trip to Damascus, north of Jerusalem, Paul is stopped by a blinding vision and a voice that calls him to repentance and to a new mission.
To say that he accepts this mission with his whole heart is an understatement! He becomes the most zealous of preachers of Christ, Crucified and goes forth to nearly the edge of the known world to make this message known. During his four missionary journeys, he writes prodigiously, exhorting those he has already met, and selling an orthodox, positive Christianity. His writings continue to shape what we believe today.
But what we gather to celebrate over the next twelve months as we celebrate this great Apostle is not just the life that he lead in bearing witness to Christ. It is much more than that. It is a special time to reflect on his writings, it is a special time to see in his life a model and paradigm for our lives here today, for the world which we find ourselves in today is not all that dramatically different than the world of St. Paul. It is hostile to the message of Christ, it is caught up in hedonism and pleasure and needs the message of salvation that is unique to the Christian message.
So, how do we emulate St. Paul in our world today? I think it is rather simple, actually: we must take for ourselves the same drive and passion that drove St. Paul to the ends of the world in service to the Gospel. Simply, to understand St. Paul, is to understand that he was driven by the simple statement: “Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel!” Everything he did was guided by this simple proposition: “Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel!”
I encourage, over the next twelve months, that we all need to take this simple maxim as a personal maxim: “Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel!”
There are many ways that this could play out, but it will certainly not be boring to do so; for St. Paul’s life was anything but boring.
Over the next twelve months, read the Acts of the Apostles, read Paul’s letters, and embrace the challenge to live out the Gospel completely, courageously, dynamically in your life. You will be changed, dramatically, and life comes to a much deeper level of meaning.

Fatherhood

11th Sunday of Ordinary Time, 2008

Every once in a while, we have a happy coincidence where the readings assigned for a particular day also very much fit a civic celebration that happens to fall at the same time. The readings that we have heard proclaimed are not assigned for Father’s Day Weekend, but very much fit the theme of the Divine Paternity of the Father, Jesus giving his Apostles to the Church that they might be shepherds, and the call to Father’s today to share in these dimensions.
First, the Divine Paternity of God the Father: This is something that I think we as Catholics can take for granted, we forget just how special of a thing this is that we are drawn into a relationship with God. Here, we are treated to a very warm first reading, an almost tender voice of God who is profoundly interested in us, His sons and daughters: “I bore you up on eagle’s wings,… you shall be my special possession, dearer to me than all other peoples.” God the Father desires to draw us to Himself, to have this unique and powerful relationship.
Here in this passage, He is shaping, forming, nurturing us, His children. I almost get the sense that this is the moment in time when God starts to let go of the bicycle seat as the people of Israel learn to ride on their own, they are being formed as a nation, their freedom is about to be guaranteed. Yet, God never leaves them, He is always present to guide and protect. As they are faithful, He is faithful. During these first years, they flourish as the promises that God made before them on Mount Sinai are still fresh and present.
However, as often happens in families, there are those tumultuous teenage years. The joy at first learning to ride the bike is replaced by the angst and desire to be out on their own. This seems to be what the people of Israel went through during the decline and fall of the Kingdom. The connection with God was not strong, God was too distant and the people rebelled and wanted to be like everyone else.
Into this vacuum, Jesus steps in and recognizes that we were like ‘sheep without a shepherd.’ To remedy this problem, he appoints these twelve men who are called to be shepherds, who will carry on His message and ministry in his name after he is gone. Again, as part of God’s master plan, he does not want us to be left to our own misery, but desires that we be drawn deeper into relationship with Him as Father. Knowing our weaknesses, He appoints these men, who have handed down their authority to their successors right down to today in the bishops and in the priests. So it is through the Sacrament of Holy Orders that God is still present with us, leading us a shepherd leads his sheep. What a wonderfully warm and caring image of our God, that he provides for us the leadership of those whom He has chosen and have set aside all that they might give their lives as Christ did, so that others might live. It is awe-inspiring to me who live this mystery every day, and as Jesus instructs us, we should pray that more men, especially, have the courage to take up this call. (As well as women to religious life, but that is a slightly different call.)
One final aspect that I want to address on this Father’s Day is the crisis of fatherhood in this country especially. As vocation director, I am often asked what some of the causes of the current vocation crisis are. Certainly there are many different aspects that can be highlighted, but at the root of much is that the men in this country have failed as fathers and dads. We have been emasculated. Recent research has pointed out that those raised without a father present in the home are much more likely to end up involved in the violent crime, drop out of school, and parent a child at a young age; which often just serves to perpetuate the unfortunate cycle. (As a caveat, one of my dearest friends is a single mom of a now college aged son. While she has never married, she admits that she had to be very forthright in providing good, holy role models of men for her son to emulate in his life. While it was not easy, it can be done, so please do not take what I say as an absolute condemnation of single moms, I just want to focus on fatherhood for today.)
Dads: be good dads! Do you realize that you are an image of God to your children, much more so even than your wives? They way that you relate to your children, and they relate to you, will impact them for the rest of their lives, and their relationship with God will be greatly modeled on their relationship with you! (Not to but too much stress on you!) Teach your children the ways of faith, model the heroic striving for virtue, be kind and courteous to everyone you meet. Your children (or grandchildren) are watching you! Be stern if you have to be, because sometimes we need that swift strong kick on the backside to get us out of our own way!
Take God as your model. He shapes and molds each one of us. So must you shape and mold your children, be concerned for your wife’s holiness, and be an example to your co-workers and friends. We need good strong dads in this world, strive to be the greatest, and treasures will result.

Called by Name (Sunday Homily)

Plugging back in after a long weekend, details in a yet to come post, here are my thoughts for the Sunday Readings, as heard on Sacred Heart Radio this morning:

I remember like it was yesterday. I left the campus ministry that night and walked, aimlessly, confused, dumbfounded really. This can’t be right, wrong number, not interested, my plans involved family, a career, success! Priesthood? What?

How could Jesus be calling me to be a priest? I am not perfect. Yeah, I mean, I like going to Mass, I like talking about my faith, I’ve seen some pretty powerful things; but this is so not what I want to do.

The next day was worse. The first thing I thought about was the priesthood. This after hardly sleeping the night before, and to make matters worse I had a Calculus exam coming up! (Hey, if I go to the seminary, no more Calculus!)

I imagine that while St. Matthew was obviously overjoyed at what he was invited as Jesus passed by, he also had doubts and concerns. We all do. How could Jesus actually be calling me, a sinner, to this great responsibility?

But I am convinced that what happens to St. Matthew in this Gospel account will also happen at some point in the life of each Christian disciple as well. We will be sitting idly by at our customs post, minding our own business when we will encounter Jesus along the way. He will simply look down at us and ask: Will you follow me?

There are two possible responses. The first, like St. Matthew, that even though we know our faults and failings, even though we may be thinking 'Lord, WRONG number!' but I'll follow and see where this leads. If He gets that first step, He'll work on us as long as we're open and lead us where He wants us. The second response is like the rich young man in the Gospel: no, it is too much for me. We sit idly by as Jesus walks past, too concerned with image, too concerned with money, power, prestige, that we are unable to act. We are unable to respond to Jesus' gratuitous invitation.

How will you respond? He still gives the invitation to follow, will you respond? He still calls Taylor, Julie, Wayne, Stephen...

I can tell you that I have never regretted the choice I made as a Freshman in college to follow after him, to respond. Sure, it was not always easy, just as it was not always easy for St. Matthew. He face persecution, ridicule, and eventually martyrdom. To live the life of a priest today, and really even to live the life of a serious committed Christian today is to live a life of martyrdom. Jesus never promises that it will be easy to follow him. If you want easy, there are myriads of other options out there. However, what He does promise is that if we take His yoke upon us, the burden is easy and light. He helps us to overcome our own weaknesses that we might be freed to serve Him more completely.

True happiness comes in knowing and following the Lord into true freedom, of giving your life so that others may live. Are you willing to accept the challenge to follow Him unreservedly?

Corpus Christi

Homily delivered at two parishes today on this feast of Corpus Christi, the second (at Guardian Angels) was prior to a Eucharistic Procession.


Corpus Christi 2008
Our Lady of Visitation and Guardian Angels

Familiarity can breed, I do not want to call it contempt because I don’t think that’s right, but something along the lines of a laziness, taking things for granted and forgetting that what is present right in our midst is not just special, but is truly otherworldly. For example, there can be that family heirloom that has been passed down for several generations, but it sits now forgotten on a shelf. That precious gift received from someone special on your graduation, marriage, ordination, that is stowed away in a closet. We walk past every day and no longer blink an eye; yet when we stop to think about it, memories flood back of that day this precious gift was received; that day is made present once again. We relive, we re-enter into that great day.
What we have gathered here to celebrate today can often undergo this same sort of lackadaisical ‘taking for granted.’ We celebrate today the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, the Feast of Corpus Christi where we turn and purposely look at the one unique gift that Jesus has given us, that we may walk past time and time again without realizing just how special this gift is. And what makes this gift so special is that it does not just represent Christ, it does not just merely bring back memories of an event that happened two thousand years ago. No, to hold that position is to miss the great mystery that we celebrate every Sunday, every weekday if possible: Jesus Christ himself is as present here in the Eucharist as he was to his disciples when He gave the discourse we just heard. He is as real here today on the Cross offering Himself, as He did on that fate-filled Passover around the year 33 AD. What we celebrate today is not just a memorial, it is not just a remembrance; it is real, true, present act of worship that Jesus made while on the Cross; which we now enter into again as if we were with John and Mary and Mary the wife of Clopas, and the soldiers, and the crowds. We are there with them, and Jesus is here with us; really, truly present as if he were standing by my side.
As we realize this, as we come to that deeper realization that our eyes of faith see better than our physical eyes ever could, we should be changed by this mystery. We receive Christ, anew, every Sunday. It is as if we take that family heirloom down and have our ancestors not just in mind, but speaking, challenging, giving us the courage to live up the legacy that they have given us; because Jesus gives us an even better legacy: He gives us Himself so that we can be emboldened to live out our faith in the world. So that we can experience life to its fullness not just here on earth, but that we might experience that greater gift of Eternal Life: life forever with God in heaven.
So a question to leave you with today: what do you do to come to a deeper realization of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist? How do you ‘take it down off the shelf’ so to speak? Did you know that every Thursday, you have a chance here at Visitation to come before Christ as if he were right in front of you, staring you in the face, challenging you, encouraging you to be His witness in the world? Periods of Adoration are unique times to come to know Jesus at the deepest level as we place him out on the altar, and he calls us out of ourselves, he fills that hunger for something more that is deep down in our souls. Take advantage of such a wonderful gift that is made present daily, really, but in a unique way during these periods of Adoration.
(Guardian Angels only!)
Insert story of missionaries to Japan who came upon the hidden Catholics present in the hills.
There is an intimate connection between the Eucharist and the priesthood. The simple fact remains that without priests who stand in the person and place of Christ today, there is no Eucharist. We cannot get around this fact. There are some in our Church who would advocate that in order to alleviate this problem, we should change the admission standards, we should change the criteria for who is eligible for ordination. I argue that if we want to refill the seminary across the street, we do not need some type of new program, what we need is faithfulness to the Gospel; radically; and it begins in the family with a longing to be formed as Catholic Christian disciples; disciples who are hungry to receive Christ truly present in the Eucharist.
What we do here today in the procession around this little ‘Catholic Corner’ on the east side of Cincinnati has to be just the beginning of something new; actually something old. It has to be the re-invigoration of your faith, that just as we will take Our Lord from here and process/journey with Him to the high school across the street, to the seminary down the block; you have to take Him with you in your life as well.
Do your co-workers know that you are Catholic by the way you act, dress, and speak in the office? Do your neighbors know that your house is a house of prayer that serves the Lord and Him alone? Do you have a statue of Mary in the front yard as a witness?
This Eucharistic Procession is just the beginning of a pattern where we all recognize that Christ walks with us throughout our life, and calls us to be His Disciples, even when it is inconvenient, difficult, or dangerous. Are we all willing to accept the challenge, the dare, the risk to be His disciple out in the world?

Be a Disciple

Rough sketch of my homily, delivered at St. Mary's Hyde Park and the Catholic Campus Ministry Center at Wright State University:

There is a natural tendency after going through a traumatic experience to slide back into an old way of life, especially experiences of a profound conversion, a profound spiritual encounter; if it does not ‘take hold’ so to speak, we can find ourselves very easily backsliding into our old way of life, our old existence, and nothing really is changed from before.
In a very real sense, that is what we see here in today’s Gospel: the Eleven are still shaken from the events or a week ago, even though Jesus warned them that it was coming up, and they are starting to back slide into an old way of life: they are hiding, fearful, almost shamed that they knew Jesus. And their lives are still in danger.
Change -> personal encounter with the Risen Christ, moved them from their own human limitations to a deep desire to share the message of salvation wrought by Christ with all the world.
Kerygma, core, was His death, not ‘be nice to everyone’ but ‘This Christ, whom you put to death, God raised from the dead for the forgiveness of your sins!’
The power of their preaching, and the authenticity of their lives, that they were truly converted and won over by Christ, allowed that ‘every day, more and more were added to their numbers.’
Question: Is the way I am living inviting people to a closer discipleship of Christ, or am I a stumbling block to my brothers and sisters?

Share the Good News! (Easter Homily)

The good folks at Our Lady of Lourdes in Westwood heard the following message:




Over the last week, more than anything, we hear about a certain little tournament going on, the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament. Reports show that nearly 70% of Americans enter at least some type of pool, arranging brackets and studying up the teams, and the most often heard question this time of year: who’s in your Final Four picks? (Just a show of hands, who here filled out a bracket?)
Don’t get me wrong, I certainly enjoy the tournament as much as the next guy, and I hope Xavier makes a good run, hopefully even to ….. But the question I have with regard to the other ‘Big Thing’ we celebrated this week is this: no matter who wins this tournament, will it actually have a day to day impact on our life, on my life? As much fun as the tournament is, I don’t think so. We watch, we root, we enjoy, we clamor for the coach to be fired if he doesn’t win it all; but regardless our lives go on.
This ‘Other Event’ that I spoke of, though, has a drastic impact, not only in our daily lives, but also a dramatic effect on our souls into Eternal Life. And again, as much as I enjoy the tournament, I think this event is much more dramatic, much more important, much more life changing than any basketball event could ever have. Obviously, the event I refer to is the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Our Lord: a singular event which happened nearly two thousand years ago, yet an event which we enter into every time we celebrate the Mass. It is a life changing event that we can enter into every day of our lives, if we so choose. Yet, the temptation is to talk of something so mundane as a sports tournament.
Looking back to the First Reading today, we hear Peter’s impassioned speech in the house of Cornelius in Caesaria by the Sea. Truly, Peter is a gifted speaker and through his words many came to believe on this day and the faith is opened to those who were Gentiles, no longer just Jews, thanks be to God! Peter sums up the whole of the faith in these few short words, and presents it with such passion, such conviction, such vigor that the crowds are immediately opened and welcome the Holy Spirit.
Sadly, I only see this passion today when it comes to sports, and our conversation about the faith is relegated to something you just do not do in polite company. My argument is that this is nothing more important to talk about than our faith! Do you understand what we celebrate today? Jesus was DEAD, story over, see ya later, turn out the lights on this whole movement. As of last Friday, it was DONE!
Then this morning, low and behold, Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb, and it is empty! Peter and John run to meet their Lord, and He is not there! This is the moment when their lives are changed forever! They are no longer afraid to acknowledge that they even know Jesus, now they will proclaim Him from the rooftops!
This is what we need for today, this same zeal that led Peter to give his life in Rome, that led ten of the other eleven to give their lives for Christ; (all except John, who remained faithful at the Cross and believed at the moment he entered the tomb.)
And it is not just from me, and its not from just the deacon; it is this zeal that we need from everyone.
Ask yourself the question: how much time did I spend this past week preparing for Easter versus preparing for a, really, meaningless game. If we spent as much time pursuing the Truth from Christ (who is Truth embodied) as we spent arranging and rearranging brackets for a tournament; what would our world be like?
Now, will you seek him out, run to the empty tomb, come in and believe?

The Response to Conversion

My thoughts on the Gospel of the Man Born Blind, shared this week at St. Luke's in Beavercreek:


I am one of those unlucky few, relegated to the world of eyeglasses. Because of a slight stigmatise, I am unable to wear contacts, and any type of lasik procedure is too much to hope for. Even worse, mine is not a slight vision impairment, but a rather dramatic version, so that if I do not have my glasses on, I’m bumping into tables, missing steps, squinting in vain attempts to read even my large digital clock from across the room. Without the glasses, I am blind. In a small way, I identify with the man in today’s Gospel reading, helpless without the correction.

However, this man’s blindness is contrasted with the apparent sight of Jesus’ adversaries. While this man is not able to see, the Pharisees and those with them think that they can see; and here is the rub, the crux, of the problem.

But what's even more interesting to me, is that he is really an innocent bystander in this whole event. He's sitting there, minding his own business, and all of a sudden, this guy is smearing mud on his eyes and he's told to go and wash. Maybe he did it just to get the mud off of his face, maybe he knew who this was, but imagine his surprise at opening his eyes, and the flood of color, sights, textures that rush into his brain! Unbelievable! I wouldn't want to shut my eyes ever again!

There is something more that strikes me in this account, and it is again something that resonates with my experience. After he has that healing encounter with Jesus, the tension he gets, the adversity he meets because of his conversion. Looking back through this story, he gets challenged by people who used to know him, he gets hauled before judges and magistrates (the Sanhedrin was the governing body of the Jews at the time.) 'Maybe this is his twin brother, and not really him?'

I can hardly imagine the tension that he is feeling as he wants to erupt in joy and share those experiences with everyone he meets, yet he is also then hauled before a tribunal and nearly charged with a crime! It is a dangerous thing, having an encounter with Christ, something that continues to bear out in the life of the believer today.

When I first entered seminary, I had friends from high school who ridiculed me, and laid some very unkind accusations at my feet. I had acquaintances at college that mocked and scorned me, both to the group I was involved with, as well as behind my back.

At the time, it was painful. Yet looking back now, with the eyes of faith, I see that it was not me that they were rejecting, but rather Christ whom they saw through me because I was responding to His invitation.

This is one of the challenges that I see coming from today's Gospel: "How do we treat those who have had conversion experiences?" The temptation is to see that person as he or she once was, yet they have been changed, we have been changed. Are we able to see beyond who they were to who they now are, and to help them experience that joy of meeting Christ, deeply, profoundly, dynamically, in their life?


With all that, though, I think that there is another question that the Church poses for us, and one that might be a little harder to hear: Are we like the Pharisees who miss the signs of what is happening around them? This is an easy temptation to fall to, and it is easy to miss when it happens, as well. We can get so caught up in our own reading of events and happenings, that we miss the direction, we miss the surprise, we miss the depth of what God is doing right in our midst.

Back to the story we have heard, the Pharisees are so hard hearted that they cannot rely on the word of the man born blind (and now able to see), but rather have to call in his parents! (who are none to excited by the prospect, apparently.) Still, the Pharisees are so obsessed with their single-minded pursuit that Jesus is disrupting their flow of life, they absolutely miss every thing that he offers.

The problem, however, is that there is not an easy solution to this dilemma. We, as faithful Catholics, certainly need to trust the wisdom and guidance of the Holy Spirit as expressed through the teaching authority of the bishops; we have to have the discipline to study and understand what the Church teaches and to make that teaching our own. Yet, we cannot be so obsessed with ironing out the minutia of our faith that we miss those blessed interruptions where Jesus challenges us to take that next step of trust, that leap of faith, that when we are sent to wash that we will be healed.

To me, this is part of the glory and wisdom of the Catholic Church: nothing moves in a hurry, rather we take our time to discern and reflect, as we balance the exuberance of faith with the calm discipline of theology.

So, as we continue this journey in Lent, we pause to recognize these two tendencies, to see if we have fallen into the very pitfalls that Jesus warns us against: the shunning of a converted sinner or the obsession of the self-righteous. We lay our weaknesses at the feet of Jesus so that we can experience that great joy that comes with knowing Christ, and experiencing his power and authority in our lives.

On Going need for Conversion (Sunday Homily)

A main theme for Lent continues to be our ongoing need for conversion, an ongoing need to recognize the supremacy and authority of Christ in our lives, and the continued tension to give over more of our life to Him, so that he can lead us closer to our Heavenly Home. Certainly, this is not always easy, and very rarely is it ‘fun,’ yet it is profoundly necessary to continue to recognize our great need for Christ to be in our life, to leave behind our sins, and then to spread that message of salvation to those we come into contact with.

In a very descriptive way, this is exactly what we have heard in our Gospel lection for today: first, a recognition of our sinfulness; secondly, a healing encounter with Christ; and finally spreading the Good News of our salvation with all we meet. Our relationship with Christ should make a difference in our lives, a difference that others should be able to see, and come to a similar relationship through our witness to them.

First, the recognition of our own sinfulness. There has been a temptation over the last years to move to a ‘Joel Olsteen’ method of Christianity; the ‘I’m ok, you’re ok’ branch that, unfortunately, does not leave much room for conversion. I do not see this as an authentic interpretation of the Scriptures that the Church presents for us, especially during this great season of Lent.

Going back to the story we have presented to us today. The woman is certainly aware that she is a sinner, for she is an outcast from society, shunned by her own village, for the simple fact that she does not come to draw water with the rest of the village, something that was always a communal event. By the fact that she comes out about noon, a hot and miserable time of day in the Holy Land, and not early in the morning, shows that she is an outcast. The reason for this casting out from the village is that she would be publicly known as a sinner, which we come to find out later is because of her somewhat loose nature of a few too many husbands. (She’s now on her sixth!)

What always strikes me is that Jesus already knows the condition of her heart. He knows why she comes out at such an odd time of day, he is able to read her heart and recognize that she does desire to be healed. And this is the opening. This is the first step in our journey as Christians, in our continuing conversion that began with our Baptism and will continue to the day we die: a constant awareness that we can be healed on our own, but that we need to turn to Christ and ask for that healing, out loud, by pleading for his healing.

Step two: that healing encounter. The Church does not advocate that we wallow in sinfulness, but has given us a wonderful repository of grace to alleviate our suffering and free us from our continued slavery to the power of the Evil One: the Sacrament of Confession, in which we confess our sins and weaknesses to the priest, as if to Christ himself. This is one of the many opportunities we have within the Church to respond to Jesus’ invitation to leave behind our sinful ways and ‘go and sin no more.’ In this wondrous Sacrament, we are able to lay our weaknesses, our faults and failings at the feet of Jesus, and experience his well of great mercy so that we can be healed of what separates us not only from Christ, but also one another.

In this encounter with Christ, through the priest, we come to a greater and deeper awareness that Jesus is the Messiah, the one sent by God to teach, to heal, and to reconcile. Jesus was not just a great teacher and friend, he is Savior. He has a specific mission to return us, not just to a place in an earthly Garden of Eden, but to a spot at the Father’s Heavenly Altar. Even as profound and massive as this altar here is, it is only a small and somewhat insignificant replication of that Altar in heaven. And we can only get there through Christ.
Granted, it is not always fun to come before a priest and admit our weaknesses, for he is just as much of a sinner as the penitent. Yet, if we ignore our sins, if we ignore our need for redemption, freedom; the pain and injury that result will just increase, will fester until it causes severe damage to our soul. I liken Confession, at times, to the pulling of a splinter from your finger. The pain can be severe, it can be uncomfortable, yet the peace that comes afterwards, the relief that comes afterwards, is much worth the momentary discomfort. Plus, if we do not deal with it, it grows, and can affect the whole of the body, not just the one finger that was originally infected.

Step Three, spreading the message: Once we have had this encounter with our Savior, with Christ, we follow the model of this woman at the well. She is not content to just sit at his feet, rather she goes and tells her fellow villagers, even the ones who have shunned her, who is in their midst. Now that she has been healed, she must bring others to the Healer.

This is the dimension that is often, sadly, missing among Catholics. I hear from Protestants who are thinking of conversion, yet they are less than inspired by the lackadaisical attitude of so many Catholics. Do you realize that here, at this very Mass, we are able to receive within the very Lord of Life? This is a life transforming gift, an encounter which should change us to be witnesses of His Gospel, to bring others into His Truth!

Notice, this is what leads the other villagers to faith as they first invite Jesus to stay with them, but shortly ‘no longer believe because of the word of the woman, but because of their own hearing, and know that Jesus is truly the savior of the world.

The question that this all leaves for us: will others know that Jesus is the Savior of the world through your actions in this world?

One final aspect is that we do not have to do this along, thankfully. The Church provides us with a community to support our journey, a community that will both encourage us when we are down, celebrate with us when we are up; but also has the obligation to challenge us if we are wrong.

It is here, at Sunday Mass, that we are unified by Christ to be transformed. It is here that we welcome new members, and receive the strength to live out the Gospel in our own unique way, so that when we come to Easter anew this year, we can have that life changing experience that coming to know Christ more profoundly in our lives, coming to know Him as the Crucified One Resurrected to break the power of sin, we can have that joy which only He provides, a joy which necessarily erupts outwards and invites others to taste that same mystery.

Thoughts from Sunday's Gospel

This will be a fairly quick surmise of my homily from this past weekend.

I started by tell the story that Steve told at NCYC, regarding the one student of his who was shot during the tragedy at Columbine High School, specifically how she was afraid to make the last thing she said on this earth a denial of God.

We often think that the Age of the Martyrs was long ago, and ended with the Edict of Milan by the Emporer Constantine. But, it is not the case. In fact, the Patron Saint of this parish died in 1942 (St. Maximillian Kolbe). And, there were more Christian Martyrs in the last Century than in the previous 19 centuries, combined! The Age of the Martyrs has continued, and has grown int he last years. Jesus' prophecy in the Gospel continues to ring true, we are still being hauled in before princes and governors of this world in order to give testimony.

But there is a new type of martyrdom that is happening. When it comes to the big situations, such as faced that day in Littleton, Colorado, it can actually be easier to make that vow of trust in God. In a sense, the Red Martyrs have it the easiest.

There is a new type of martyrdom that is growning in the Church today, which has been referred to as a 'Green Martyrdom.' If you take the faith seriously, if you put God first in your life, you may face financial penalties. For example, refusing to work on Sundays because it is a day of rest, a day to worship God and spend time with family, could lead to being passed over for the next big promotion. What happens when you request time off during the week to attend Ash Wednesday MAss, or Mass for the Holy Day of Obligation (which DO still exist!)? "Well, you are not as committed to the team as so-and-so, they are getting the promotion."

This is happening in our world today.

Now, the question that we are posed here at the end of the Church year: are you willing to give that 'Yes' to God, even when it might lead to your own persecution? This is one of the things that I think JEsus is getting to in today's Gospel.

In fact, I am convinced that if the Church is to survive, not even thrive, just survive over the next 100 years, it is going to be on the faith and the commitment and the witness that the lay faithful have. My crediblility as a priest has unfortunately been shot down. In some sense, people expect me to say and do certain things, and I can get away with it because I am a priest. But the person on the street doesn't take it seriously.

But when you pray in your cubicle at work, or proudly wear a crucifix as a reminder of Christ's dying for my sins, or treat both friend and enemy with compassion, and hold yourself to the standard that Church asks you to live towards; you say much more by your actions than I could say in an hour and a half of preaching.

Are you willing to give the testimony that Jesus tells us we are to give?

This means you better know the faith, because you will be challenged.

This means you must live life with integrity, otherwise your actions cover the message of the words.

This means that you have to say 'Yes,' when the question is posed to you: "Do you believe in God?"


St. Max usually posts the homilies from the weekend on their website, too, eventually.