Thy Kingdom Come

Hey, Church fans! Christ the King this past Sunday. We had a great time here at St. Elizabeth’s. I told the King Spud joke, so if you want to hear that, you can watch the video. The text is below.

 

     It is a very perplexing sort of juxtaposition. On the one hand we are celebrating the Solemnity of Our Lord Christ the King of the Universe. On the other hand, we have this gospel reading from Luke 23:35-43, where Jesus is hanging on the Cross and the good thief asks him to remember him when he comes into his kingdom. Jesus’ answer is “This day you will be with me in paradise.” 

       There’s a lot to unpack here.

       First of all, what does it mean to acknowledge Christ as King? This is difficult for us Americans because we got rid of our monarchy 246 years ago.  It helps to remember that a monarch had dominion. This means he had authority over the land and everything and everyone on it.  But he did not own it.  It was given to him by God to be placed under his care.  At his death a king would be judged on how the land and the people prospered materially, culturally and morally under his care.  He was a steward, not an owner. 

This feast was established relatively recently by Pope Pius XI in 1925. He did so to emphasize that, in the face of the rising secularism of our day, it is Christ who is sovereign over all creation, including every human person. The feast also has an eschatological dimension. At the end of the age, the Kingdom will be established in fullness and Christ shall reign supreme. This is why it is celebrated on the last day of Ordinary Time, on the threshold of Advent, when we contemplate the second coming of Christ in glory.

       Second, dying a brutal death by an incredibly cruel method of execution does not seem to be the way to establish the Kingdom. As we will see in May when Charles III is crowned King of England, it is usually done with great pomp and circumstance and lots of fancy clothes and shiny things. What was it about Jesus that allowed the thief on his right to see who Jesus really was, even in the midst of his own suffering? That is a faith that looks into eternity.  THAT’S the kind of faith that I want! 

       Third, Jesus’ answer to the thief lets us know that the Kingdom is not just some distant, future reality. It is something that we can experience “today.” This is cause for reflection. There is an immediacy to the Kingdom, its benefits, its responsibilities, and our role in helping it unfold in the present day.

       One thing is obvious. The Kingdom of God is very different from any kingdom on this earth. It bears none of the trappings of this world and thus transcends the vagaries of this world. So much so that even a dying, repentant thief could recognize the King of the Universe as he hung upon the Cross.

       What’s the key?  Quite simply, the Kingdom of God is not made of bricks or stone or pomp or circumstance or lots of shiny things.  It is made up of relationships. Relationships with God and with one another.

       Relationships are not rocket science.  If you want a relationship to grow, you give it two things.

       1. Time, and

       2. Attention

If you want your relations with Christ to grow,

       You give it time and attention

       Once again, I say, “If you cannot find ten minutes a day for private prayer with Our Lord, your life is out of control and you need to make adjustments…no excuses.”

If you want your relationship with your spouse, your family, your friends to grow

       You give it time and attention.

Very few relationships end because of conflict

       Conflict is simply a symptom.

Very many relationships die because of neglect.

Here’s a good exercise.  Go back and pull out your high school yearbook from your senior year.

       Count how many people wrote in your book that you would always stay in touch. Think about how many times you wrote that in the yearbooks of others. 

       Where are those people now? 

Very few relationships end because of conflict

Very many relationships die because of neglect.

If you want a relationship to grow, give it time and attention.

If I was the Evil One, I would try to steal your time.

I would fill your life with so many good things.

Not bad things

Good things:

Career, responsibilities, hockey, soccer, volleyball, dance, video games, even volunteering…you name it, so that you would not have time to give attention to the essential relationships….to what really matters. 

The Kingdom of God is built of relationships

       We even describe it in terms of the most intimate relationship that we humans can have with one another,

We call it being in full communion

with God and with one another in the Church

In this holy communion, who I am is intimately joined at the very level of being with who God is

       And who you are as the body of Christ.

This is celebrated in the Eucharist as we celebrate and receive holy communion from this very altar.

       Virtue deepens this communion

       Sin injures or severs this communion

       Reconciliation restores this communion.

In the end, it is not our stuff that we take with us when we leave this earth

       It is the relationship we build while we are here

              Our communion with Christ and with one another.

This is our treasure in heaven.

It’s all about trajectory.

       And it begins now

              The Kingdom of God is close at hand

       Because you and I are close at hand.

Let us build these relationships with Christ and one another

while there is still time

So that we may say today and every day into eternity

       “Thy Kingdom come.”

The End is Near!

Greetings, Church Fans! We are nearing the end of Ordinary Time and entering the season of Gratitude and Hope. Vid and text below.

   There is the story of the priest and the rabbi who are standing by a bend in the side of the road with a sign that says, “The End is near!” 

   After a few minutes a big pickup truck drives by at high speed, as it passes the driver says, “You stupid religious nuts! Get off the road!” 

   Shortly after it goes out of sight around the bend, there is the sound of screeching tires and then a big splash.

   The rabbi looks at the priest and says, “Do you think we should have written: ‘The Bridge is Out’? 

   As we near the end of Ordinary Time, the readings shift and the Church asks us to contemplate the end of all time. During the daily and Sunday readings we get eschatological readings such as the one this weekend from Luke. There is a lot going on in this reading. In this column, I’m just going to look at the first part of it.   

   In the first section Jesus tells the people admiring the Temple that soon not one stone will be left upon another. That would have been pretty shocking to his listeners. The Temple was the dwelling place of the Most High God. It represented the eternal covenant with Israel. Destruction of the Temple would be the ultimate disaster. Yet, in 70 A.D., that is exactly what happened when the Roman General Titus brutally put down the Jewish nationalistic revolt and ordered the complete destruction of the Temple. Like all things Roman, they did a completely thorough job.

   In our own day, popular culture is rife with apocalyptic and dystopic books and films and whatnot that depict the collapse of society by forces from without or within. While it is comforting to learn from a well-funded study that Alaska is seen as the most likely place on the earth to survive a zombie apocalypse, such dark and pervasive images in popular our culture tell me that secular humanism has failed our society. There just is not a lot of hope out there.  The end is near.

   How very different from what we Christians believe and profess. For us, the End of the Age and the second coming of Christ represents the fulfillment of all our deepest hopes and desires. We await the blessed hope, not with fear and trembling. Jesus warns that the end times will not be without their trials, but so what? For us the end is not the destruction of all things, but the completion and the perfection of all things. What we await are new heavens and a new earth where all creation, including you and me, truly become what God has intended us to be, perfectly human body and soul. 

   Without question, all churches, from St. Peter’s Basilica to our own little parish church of St. Elizabeth’s will cease to exist…and we will be so happy about it. Exalting in the true and substantial presence of Christ, there will be no more need for his sacramental presence. The Church in all its members will be glorified with him before the Father.         Is the end near? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Nevertheless, for us it represents all that we are now, and all that we hope to be in the resurrection of the dead and life of the world to come. Amen.

Mother Church

Great to be back. This past weekend we celebrated the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica. What’s up with that? Thanks to Theresa Austin, digital usher, for the vid. The text is below.

   It was the Year of Our Lord, 312. For the better part of three centuries, Christians in the Roman Empire had undergone a series of persecutions at the hands of various emperors.  Now the Empire was embroiled in a great civil war between the forces of Maxentius and Constantine. Maxentius occupied Rome while Constantine’s army, greatly outnumbered, mustered across the Tiber near the Milvian Bridge, a key access point to the city. The battle for control of the Roman Empire would ensue at dawn the next morning.

   That night, Constantine and his officers had vision in a dream. He found himself looking at the sky. In the clouds he saw a cross and heard the words, In hoc signum vincit! (“With this sign, conquer.”)  The next morning, Constantine ordered that a cross affixed to all of his battle standards.  Then he marched his troops towards the city.

   The two forces met at the Milvian Bridge. In the course of the battle Maxentius’ horse slipped on a rock in the river, throwing him headlong onto the bank. His head struck a rock and he was mortally wounded.  With their leader having fallen, the forces of Maxentius were routed and Constantine entered the imperial city triumphant and secure in his claim to the throne.

   Although not yet a Christian, based on his vision and the unlikely circumstances of his victory, Constantine attributed his victory to the Christian God. In gratitude, he legalized Christianity and soon built four major basilicas to serve the needs of the Church. The first of these was built in an area known as the Lateran. It was dedicated to St. John the Baptist and St. John the Evangelist. Although renovated from time to time throughout the centuries, and sacked more than once, it stands largely the same as it did when it was built in the year 315. Strictly speaking, it is the Cathedral of Rome. 

   As the first church built in Christendom, St. John in the Lateran is the mother church of Christianity. This is where the Church of Rome has gathered for over 1700 years to celebrate the Eucharist and the sacraments. How fitting it is that the whole Church throughout the world pauses on the anniversary of its dedication to give thanks to Almighty God for his generous providence in history in continuing to provide for the needs of the People of God in every time and every circumstance…even here in 99516. 

Buildings are funny things. If you think about it, what makes a house a home?  Is it the location, the style, the furnishings?  Or rather, it is the family that lives there?

In the same way, what makes a building like the Lateran Basilica holy?  It is the history? Is it the age?  The architecture?  Or rather is it the one who dwells there?  

Likewise, what about our own little parish church? What makes this place holy?  Is it the walls, the roof, the windows, the liturgical furnishings? Or rather, is it the one who dwells here and the family of faith that meets here?

This morning our Holy Father likened the Church to a construction site. Having grown up in construction, it is an apt description. Somewhere in the annals of history, there is an unwritten rule that all airports, hospitals and churches must be under construction at all times? I don’t know why, I don’t make the rules.  But I do agree with Benjamin Franklyn who once said, “We shape our buildings and then our buildings shape us.”

Working construction is a marvelously satisfying occupation. When you show up there is a piece of bare ground.  When you leave, there is proof you have been there. How incredibly wonderful when that proof is something beautiful for God, whether in a building or in a life of faith lived therein.

I have worked on many buildings and have guided the construction of at least two church buildings. I have studied at great length and have learned a great deal about what Catholic church buildings have looked like over the centuries and what they are supposed to achieve. One of my greatest experiences was visiting the Cathedral in Cologne, (Koln) Germany for the first time as a seminarian. The building is massive. Construction began in 1248 but it was not completed until 1880, 632 years later. I explored every inch of that building from the highest point in its bell towers to the foundation stones in the basement. 

   It was down there that I had a moment. Now I was a laborer. I was the one who would dig the hole and shoot the grade for foundations stones such as that. I stood there in the basement of that huge cathedral and thought about my brother laborer who was the first one to put a shovel in the ground and turned that first spadeful of dirt so many centuries ago…knowing that he would never see it completed in his life time.  THAT is the kind of faith that I want. That is the kind of faith that we are called to. 

I’ll leave you with the thought of Bishop Kenneth Utner, who wrote the following prayer after the death of St. Oscar Romero, the martyred archbishop of El Salvador. 

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.

Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.


No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection.

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.

No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master
builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.

Commemorating the Faithful Departed

[Credit to @litcatholicmemes. Find them on Facebook. These folks are great.]

November is special for many reasons. Oh sure, there is the whole pumpkin spice thing. (No, contrary to the rumor, we are NOT introducing pumpkin spice flavored hosts at communion between now and Thanksgiving.) More importantly for us Catholics is the Commemoration of all the Faithful Departed beginning with All Saints Day on November 1st, then All Souls’ Day on November 2nd.  Throughout the rest of the month we continue to commend our departed loved ones to the Lord who said, that I should not lose anything of what (the Father) gave me, but that I should raise it on the last day. (Jn 6:39)

     It is fitting that we should do so. This year, at the recommendation of the newly formed Liturgy Committee, we will continue to inscribe the names of our departed loved ones in the Book of the Dead. This will be located in the Narthex and will be brought up at the Offertory at every Mass in November. 

     Similarly, the portraits of all members of the parish family who have into eternity this past year will be on display on a table near the Baptismal Font. It is through baptism that we are born into eternal life. It is fitting that they who have passed through the gates of death into eternal life should remind us of our own eternal destiny.  You are encouraged to bring a small (5×7 inch or smaller) framed picture of any of your loved ones who you would like commemorated throughout the month and place it on the table as a sign our communion with the Church Triumphant. 

     As I said, it is fitting that we do so as a family of faith. Christ has promised that he would lose nothing that the Father had given him, but that he would raise it up. It’s essential that we keep this in mind not only in the month of November, but throughout the whole year as well. 

     There is a popular heresy out there that when we die, we become angels. It’s a nice thought, but it limps theologically. Angels are purely spiritual beings. They don’t have a body.  We are human beings. By definition, we have a body and a soul. This is why the Eternal Word of God became flesh, suffered, died and then rose.  Jesus did not come to redeem half of us. He came so that he might raise us up.  Through our own resurrection, we don’t morph into something else.  Rather, we become what God has created us to be – perfectly human, body and soul. 

          The faithful departed, and all of us, await the fulfillment of our hope in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.

Healing, Forgiveness, Gratitude

Hey, Church Fans! I have a great staff here at St. Elizabeth’s who have helped me bring back the videos of the homilies that get posted here. As always, there is more in the actual homily than in the text. Here it is..

   You don’t see a lot of leprosy these days. With better hygiene and the introduction of sulfate medications in the 1960’s, Hansen’s disease has largely been eliminated as a physical and social scourge.  Not so in the time of Jesus. Hansen’s disease was at once a medical, social and religious curse. If someone was so afflicted, it was understood either they or one of their ancestors had sinned gravely. Because it seemed to be spread by physical contact, they were cast out of the community, having to live outside the town or village. If they moved about, they had to wear a bell and call out “Unclean!  Unclean!” so that others could avoid them.  Worst of all, they were not only seen as physically unclean, but also ritually unclean.  They could not worship with the community, they could not enter the synagogue or temple, or do anything that could make them righteous before God. In short, they were damned here and in the afterlife. 

   This is one of the reasons why Naaman the Hittite asked for two mule-loads full of dirt on which to offer sacrifice to the God of the Hebrews why Jesus told the ten lepers in today’s gospel to go show themselves to the priests. He is not just healing them of a horribly disfiguring disease, but more importantly he is restoring them to the worshipping community and by removing the curse and the ritual impurity that came with it.

   No wonder they were grateful.

   If you think about it, healing of the lepers by Jesus is a good analogy of what happens to us when he forgives our sins, especially in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. While sin does not physically disfigure us, it does horrible things to our spiritual well-being. The longer we remain in sin, the more grotesque and disfigured our soul becomes. In a similar way, we become more and more separated from the means of grace and the community of believers.

   Thanks be to God, through the Sacrament of Reconciliation, Christ has given us the meant to approach him and cry out, “Lord Jesus! Have pity of me, a sinner!” In the presence of the priest, we are healed and our sins forgiven and restored to full communion with Christ and with one another.  How can we not return to Christ to give thanks in the Eucharist?

   May we have the humility and the grace to approach Christ, to ask for healing and to rejoice in the gift of our salvation. 

The Loving Thing

There is something deeply unsettling about the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus.

First, it’s interesting what Jesus omits from the story.

For example, we don’t know how Lazarus got into his situation. 

       Was he a good man that fell on hard times?  Was he a profligate like the prodigal son who spent all his money wine, women and song? Does he have an addiction?
A mental illness? 

Come to think of it, we don’t know much about the about the rich man either, not even his name. 

There is a caution for us here.  Remember that whenever a character in scripture is unnamed, the listener is supposed to see himself or herself in that role.

Still, we don’t know much about him. How did he get rich?  Was he a businessman and a hard worker? Did he inherit his wealth?  Was he a good man or an evil one? 

       We just don’t know. 

And that’s the point for Jesus.  None of that matters!

All that matters is that he was rich and Lazarus was poor. 

       It’s not like he kicked Lazarus every time he left his house, or cursed him, or muttered about him under his breath, saying, “Get a job!” .

       He simply ignored him. 

The rich man loses his salvation not for something he did, but something he did not do. It is a sin of omission.

       This is very sobering and should make us think.

Think about how we began Mass today. 

“I confess to Almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done…and in what I have failed to do…. 

Yikes.

       It’s not just enough to avoid the evil thing. It’s not even about doing the right thing.

       It’s about doing the loving thing.

So how do we figure out what the loving thing is? 

Thankfully, the Catholic Church has a very well developed body of social teaching. Many of you are familiar with it, but if not, it is easily googled.  Catholic Social Teaching has seven main themes.  These are:  

  1. Life and Dignity of the Human Person
  2. Call to Family, Community, and Participation
  3. Rights and Responsibilities
  4. Option for the Poor and Vulnerable
  5. The Dignity of Work and the Rights of Workers
  6. Solidarity
  7. Care for God’s Creation

You can find these all over the web and in the Catechism in paragraphs 1928 and following. 

       Here the Catechism reminds us that: “Respect for the human person proceeds by way of respect for the principle that ‘everyone should look upon his or her neighbor as ‘another self,’ above all bearing in mind their life and the means necessary for living it with dignity.’

It also reminds us that our relationship to others articulated in terms of ‘friendship’ or ‘social charity’ is a direct demand of human and Christian brotherhood.

What is needed here is a change of heart.  We need God’s grace to transform the way we see each other. Or to begin to help us to even see each other at all.

This coming liturgical year, we will be going through the Gospel of Matthew. In it, we will hear him say, “Whatsoever you did to the least of my brothers, you did for me.” 

We are called not just to avoid the wrong thing.

       Not even to do the right thing. 

No, the Christian is called to go beyond the simple demands of justice.

We are called to do the loving thing, the merciful thing

On this our salvation rests.

Called within Community for the World

Hello, Church Fans! This past weekend I was privileged to give the homily at the Memorial and Promotion Mass for the Northwestern Lieutenancy of the Knights and Dames of the Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem. It is a great organization with its roots going back all the way to the first crusade. The mission is the same – to protect and preserve the Christian presence in the Holy Land. However, the methods have changed. These days our primary “weapon” is prayer. Our second is to support the Latin Patriarchate in the Holy Land with substantial financial assistance.

Please pray for the Christians in the Holy Land. The Israeli government does not distinguish between Christian or Muslim Palestinians. For more information on the work of the Order click here.

Here is homily.


Tomorrow you will likely get  nice homily from the Bishop on what it means to be a Knight or a Dame of the Holy Sepulchre.

           This morning I think we would do well to first look at what it means to be a Christian,

           by meditating on the Blessed Virgin Mary.

           She who is the first disciple. 

First, that she is is rightly seen in the context of the Community of believers who pray – and so too should we.

Second, that within that for that Church, she received a special vocation – and so too do we.

Finally, that such a vocation sent her forth into the world to proclaim the Good News – and so too must we. 

When the council Fathers were drafting the Lumen Gentium, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, the question was debated for no little time as to whether the Blessed Virgin should have her own document or rather, should be included in the document on the Church itself. 

           Wisely they discerned that she be included in any discourse we use to describe the Church.

Much of their reasoning is made plain to us in our first reading today from the Acts of the Apostles where we see

           “…they went to the upper room where they were staying, Peter and John and James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. All these devoted themselves with one accord to prayer, together with some women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers.

We see then, that the first task of the Christian is twofold

To gather

and to pray.

“The whole community devoted themselves to prayer.”

           When I left my last parish of St. Patrick’s at the end of June, the parishioner papered the wall with “Fr. Leo quotes” – very few of which are original to me. One of these stood out. It says:

“If it doesn’t begin with a prayer and end with a prayer, it ain’t got a prayer!”

           Too often I think, especially for us professional Christians. We get so wrapped up in the work of the Lord, that we sometimes forget the Lord of the work.

           We must pause.  We must unplug. We must spend time with Our Lord in prayer.

           I am adamant, that if you cannot find ten minutes a day for private prayer with Our Lord, your life is out of control and you need to make adjustments.

           NO EXCUSES.

I shall say it again:  if you cannot find ten minutes a day for private prayer with Our Lord, your life is out of control and you need to make adjustments.

           NO EXCUSES.

In the wake of events in the Holy these past two years and in our own county in the last two weeks, we have once again entered the realm of “no excuses Catholicism.”

           We can no longer as men and women of the Catholic faith simply try to fit comfortably and anonymously into an increasing secular society which sadly is becoming more and more antagonistic towards the Faith.

The Christian, the Knight or the Dame, cannot charitably engage such a society if we are not first and foremost people of prayer.

In so doing, we must never forget the words of a wise old monk named Aidan Shea, late abbot of St. Anselm’s in DC:

           He said, “I have learned that so much of prayer is simply waiting on God.”

And, he added, “I have learned that if I am willing to wait long enough, insight always comes.” 

           So much of prayer is just waiting on God.

           Time is an ingredient. 

When I was in the seminary, we had a classmate who had been a very high level nuclear engineer. For some unknown reason, we gave him the task of making the birthday cake. He did some calculations and determined that rather than let the cake sit in the oven at 375 degree F for 45 minutes, it would be more efficient to put it in for 23.2 minutes at 578 degrees F. Well, you know what happened. It was black and charred on the outside and gooey and inedible on the inside. What he did not take into account is that time is an ingredient. So too with our prayer.

The early Church seemed to have a sense of this as they gathered in the Upper Room.

           For nine days they prayed and they waited for what the Lord had said to them to be fulfilled. 

           It is the original novena, and the most powerful.

           Time is an ingredient.     

                     Insight comes, and we come to know what God is calling us to do hic et nunc, here and now.

The Blessed Virgin Mary enjoyed a particular, a difficult, and a glorious vocation within and for the Church. 

           In her immaculate conception she received the grace necessary to carry it out.

           In her fiat to the Angel Gabriel, she embraced that vocation.

           In the birth of the her divine Son, in his teaching and miracles, in this passion, death and resurrection, she saw that vocation come to eternal fruition for her and for all the faithful.

So much so that the author of revelation, reflecting on such things could say:

NOW have salvation and power come, the Kingdom and the authority of his anointed. 

           For our purposes today, I would emphasize the word “NOW” in that passage.

           There is a temptation to think of the Kingdom only as something that is way off in some far distant eschatological future. 

           But we must not forget the very words of Our Lord, nor the words of the inspired writer of the Book of Revelation.

                      The Kingdom of God in our midst.

           Now, have salvation and power come. 

As Christians, the people in our neighborhoods, schools, places of work and our communities, the Christian in the Holy Land, cannot afford have us simply bank our charity in hopes of future resolution.

           As Knights and Dames, we are called to act hic et nunc.  Here and now. 

I am reminded of the story of the young boy and the starfish – An oceanside village sat on four miles of sandy beach. One night a terrible storm raged and washed up thousands of starfish far up onto the shore. As an old man was walking down the beach and lamenting the tragedy he say a young boy picking up starfish and throwing them back into the sea before they perished in the sun.

“Young boy,” he said, “What are you doing?”

The young boy replied, “I am throwing these starfish back into the sea before they die,” the boy replied.

The old man shook his head, “Son, this beach of four miles long and there are thousands, if not tens of thousands of starfish washed up here. It is sad, but even by your efforts you can’t hope to make a difference.”

Looking defiantly at the old man, the young boy picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea, and said, “It made a difference to that one.”

It’s a good lesson for us. Think about it, Christian, if your entire life is spent bringing only one other person to the gospel, is it not a life well spent?

We are called to make a difference, and this is what sends us forth.

           In the gospel we see that after she conceived Our Lord in her womb, Mary does not just sit at home, happy that God had shown her such a favor, saying to herself, “I know something you don’t know!”

           No, love by its very nature goes forth from itself

           And when Love Incarnate is within you, how can you not take him to the world, or at least that little part of the world that you know? 

           The Visitation is one of my favorite passages in Sacred Scripture.

The Gospel of Luke is sometimes called the “Gospel of Joy”

           Especially in its early chapters, it reads like a Broadway musical.

           Time and again the action is punctuated as one or more characters just break into song, or dance as we see in the case of little John the Baptist. 

           how fitting, then, that the late Pope Francis entitled his encyclical, “The Joy of the Gospel.”

           Our call as Christians is to take the joy of the Gospel in the world

And if not the whole world, then at least that part of the world with which we will come into contact.

To stand in the truth in love.

           Knowing the whole while that if even we but try;

           Knowing that even if do it poorly

If we stand in the truth in love, with joy,

           There will be those who will find it very irritating.

           We may be maligned, we may be slandered.

           And God forbid, we may even be excluded…            

           Or like today’s saint, Andrew Kim,

or closer to home, dare I say Charlie Kirk whose memorial is tomorrow, even worse.

SO WHAT?!

The Christian who stands in the truth in love has no FOMO.   (Fear of missing out.)

The Kingdom of God is in our midst.

           In union with the Church, rooted in prayer, called to proclaim the Good News here and now,

           Let us stand in the truth in love.

           Let us proclaim the Good News with hope and joy.         

           Let us be faithful and true Chritians, Knights and Dames of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem, here and now.

           That the words of our lips, and the deeds of our hands may play their part in the unfolding of the Kingdom today and unto eternity.

Being Prudent. Being Loving. Being Catholic.

     I don’t watch TV anymore. Quite simply, I don’t have the time. I get my news from a variety of online sources to keep up. I check the box scores when I can.

     Two recent incidents in the news have caused me great sorrow and concern. The first is the wanton act of violence against the students, faculty and parishioners at Annunciation Catholic Church in Minneapolis. The second is the assassination of conservative commentator Charlie Kirk on a university campus in Utah. What are we Catholics in America to make of such tragic events? 

     From what I’ve been able to discern, the perpetrator the Annunciation shooting was a terribly disturbed individual. The choice of target appears to have been made more on his past association with the parish and school than on any overtly anti-Catholic bias, although his suicide note apparently rants against all religion, including the Catholic Church. I don’t have to the expertise in mental health to figure out the mind of the perpetrator. It was an act of evil, pure and simple. We must pray for the healing of all survivors.

     Closer to home, prudence dictates that we assess our own facilities and practices to ensure that our children and parishioners are safe. While we already have good practices in place, the parish has engaged a local security firm to do a security audit of our facilities and procedures and to make recommendations on how we can make improvements. Once this is complete, we you will likely see certain subtle, but definite changes.  It is a delicate task. How do we maintain the warm hospitality for which we are known, while also ensuring the safety of those on the campus? Prudence, not fear, should guide our actions.

     I did not follow Charlie Kirk. Most of what I know about him has been gleaned from the reports in the wake of his assassination. What disturbs me most is that, as Bishop Robert Barron has pointed out, he died with a microphone in his hand, not a weapon. By all accounts Mr. Kirk engaged his interlocutors with courtesy and forthrightness. He did not back down from what he believed to be true, but neither did he denigrate the character of those with whom he disagreed.  He simply pointed out where he believed their arguments were flawed. 

     As so many others have said, the strength of our republic is not that we all agree, but that we have learned how to disagree while maintaining the dignity of the other. Evelyn B. Hall, describing the thought of Voltaire once said, “I “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

      Though at times provocative, Mr. Kirk embodied such a notion. As Catholics, we have always upheld the inherent dignity of every human person. We have always distinguished between person and idea; between identity and behavior. Let us continue to stand in the truth in love, prudent in our practice, charitable in our deeds.

Philemon’s Dilemma

Homily – 23SundayC, Philemon’s Dilemma

   Whatever your musical tastes, country music has a lot of practical wisdom. Brad Paisley described it as “Four chords and the truth!”  For your edification, here is short list of real titles of real country music songs.

Real Country Music Titles:

  • Drop Kick Me, Jesus, Through The Goalposts Of Life
  • My John Deere Was Breaking Your Field, While Your Dear John Was Breaking My Heart
  • I Changed Her Oil, She Changed My Life
  • How Can I Miss you if you won’t go away?
  • I’m So Miserable Without You It’s Like Having You Here
  • The Last Word in Lonesome is “me”
  • The Worst You Ever Gave Me Was the Best I Ever Had
  • If the Phone Doesn’t Ring, It’s Me.
  • I Been Roped and Thrown By Jesus In The Holy Ghost Corral

   The late, great Toby Keith wrote one entitled, “Wish I Didn’t Know Now (What I didn’t Know Then.)”

   I imagine that is what Philemon was thinking when he opened that letter from St. Paul, probably carried to him the same Onesimus mentioned therein. So, what is Philemon’s problem?

   Well, it’s a doozy. Philemon is a wealthy Greek, probably from the Church in Collosae, who came to the Catholic Faith and was baptized by Paul. Onesimus was his slave…his runaway slave who found his way to Paul and spent a fair amount of time helping him during his imprisonment. Now Paul is sending him back to Philemon asking that he not be received as a runaway slave, but as a brother in Christ. Philemon has a dilemma.  Does he do as Paul asks?  If he does, then does that mean he will have free all his other slaves who have been baptized?  What about the ones who have not yet been baptized. If they come to faith does that mean an automatic ticket to freedom?  If they ask for baptism can he refuse them?  What are the implications if he does not do as Paul asks and puts the slave’s collar back on Onesimus?  Who knew that being a Christian would be so hard? How difficult it is to be an intentional disciple of Jesus! 

   It’s not like he didn’t have fair warning. Jesus said as much in our gospel passage this week from Luke. He does not sugar coat it. Being a disciple of Jesus demands a complete change of mind and heart.

   It’s a good lesson for us. Being a disciple of Jesus has never been about fitting comfortably and anonymously into an increasing secular society. It is about standing in the truth in love.  This may manifest itself at work, at school, on the community council, in the doctor’s office, in the ballot box, and any other number of places. 

   Scripture does not say what Philemon did after he received the letter. Perhaps he did as Paul asked.  Perhaps he did not. Regardless, the early Church has passed this letter on to us to help us in our discernment in our own journey of faith. May we have the grace to respond as Christ would have us do.  It has never been easy, but it is always worth it. 

What Matters to God

   For a number of years, our family had a dairy farm in western Washington about100 miles south of Seattle. As a “gentleman farmer” my dad used to have a T-shirt that said, “A big barn and a plump wife never did any man harm.”  

   Big barns are pretty cool.  It’s amazing how some of them were built in the early 20th century. Not only are they incredibly functional, they are truly works of art. And by and large a big barn never did a man harm.

   So what’s the deal then with the parable of the man who had the bountiful harvest and built himself some big barns to put it in. Why is he called a fool?

   It’s pretty simple really. There is nothing wrong with a bountiful harvest or a big barn to put it in. Where gentleman farmer in the parable went wrong is that he saw his wealth as an end unto itself. He put his trust in the things of this world and forgot that our true destiny of communion with God transcends anything this world has to offer.

   Wealth in and of itself is neither good nor bad. It simply gives you more options. But as our misguided farmer found out, at the end of the day we really don’t own anything. It is all a gift given to us to use for the time that we are on this earth. We are stewards, not owners.

   They say you spend the first third of your life wanting stuff, the second third accumulating stuff and the last third trying to get rid of stuff. Having just turned 60, I’m finding that there is a lot of truth to this. The goal at this stage is to shed as much stuff as practical and to grow rich in what matters to God.

   So what matters to God? 

   Well, if we pay attention to Our Lord in the today’s gospel, its not the stuff we’ll leave behind, but the relationships with God and others that really matter. We don’t take any of the stuff with us, but we do take our relationships. For us Catholics that relationship is characterized by full communion with Christ and his Church – union at the very level of being.  Who I am, united with who God is and who you are. It is these relationships that we call full communion that we carry with us into eternity.

That is what matters to God.