Persistence in Prayer

One of the most maligned folks in American history is Calvin Coolidge, the nation’s 30th president who served the White House from 1923 to 1929.  He had the unfortunate distinction of being in office at the outset of the Great Depression. He was a quiet man. His nicknames were: Cautious Cal, Cool Cal, Silent Cal, and the Sphinx of the Potomac.

Not many know much about President Coolidge today. But if you Google him, the first 49,000 citations will mention this one quotation he gave in a speech in 1929. He said: “Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan Press On! has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.”

     Mr. Coolidge was right. Why does Jesus ask us to be so persistent in prayer? Our prayer certainly does not change God’s mind.  God already knows what we need long before we ask. Parents are the best examples of this and can give us some insight. Mom or Dad could easily give us what we need without our asking, but would we really appreciate it? Probably not. How delightful it is to a parent when a child comes to their own realization of what is best and then asks the favor.

    Three and a half millennia of human experience have shown that persistence in prayer has profound effects upon the one doing the praying. God does not change as a result of prayer. We do. Persistence in prayer allows us to discern God’s ultimate desire for us and to make that desire our own.

 Time is an ingredient. A monk much wiser than me once said,

“I have found that so much of prayer is simply waiting on God; and I have learned that if I am willing to wait long enough, insight always comes.”

Timing is everything, and God’s timing always so much better than our own. Persistence in prayer allows us to move from praying, “MY will be done.” to “THY will be done.” 

As we spend more time in prayer we begin to realize that God has three ways of answering prayer. 1) “Yes.” 2) “Not yet.” and 3) “I have something better in mind for you.” 

       Okay great.  How?

It’s not that hard.  You need to find a time and a place.  Take some time each day to unplug from the distractions of this world. Find a quiet place and spend some time with the Lord. Decide on a time each day that will work for you. You may have to tweak this a bit. And this may change depending on your situation.

At one parish my prayer time happened at 9:00 at night. Here at St. Elizabeth’s, it works out best at 7:00 in the morning.

You may need to adjust this time, you may need to fight for this time, but you need to make time.  I’ll say it again, if you cannot find at least ten minutes a day for private prayer with Our Lord, your life is out of control and you need to make adjustments.  No excuses.

Second, find a place.

       Create a space in the home.

       Or change your routine to bring you to a holy place.  

       I love this one quotation that is popping up on the door in many churches in France.  In four short sentences it says: 

       It is possible that on entering this church, you may hear the Call of God.    

       On the other hand, it is not likely that he will contact you by phone. Thank you for turning it off.   

       If you would like to talk to God, come in, choose a quiet place, and talk to him.  

       If you would like to see him, send him a text while driving.

Get creative. I love to tell the story of the fellow at St. Benedict’s who had two issues. First, because of his weird work schedule, he couldn’t find his ten minutes and he kept bringing the stress of his work home with him.

       As we chatted, the Holy Spirit kicked in and I asked him, “You live right down the street from the parish, right?

Why don’t you just pull your truck in and park in front of that big crucifix in front of the church on your way home?”

       You know, he did.

       About a month later he was in my office again and said, “You know, Father, that ten minutes has made all the difference.  I don’t even get out of my truck. I just do my Magnificat right there.  And I’ve also found that I can just leave all of the stresses and burdens of the day right there at the foot of the Cross. I suppose I could pick them back up again, but I’ve never seen the need.”

Make time. Create or find a place. Be persistent.  It may not change God, but it will certainly have a profound effect on you.

Let me end by paraphrasing Mr. Coolidge.  

“Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence in prayer. Vocation will not; nothing is more common than unfulfilled vocations. Cleverness will not; you cannot outmaneuver God. Erudition will not; the world is full of theological derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan Pray On! has opened and always will open the door of grace in the human heart.”

Ask Fr. Leo – Why does the priest wash his hands at the Offertory?

Hey, Church fans! No time to post the homily this week. You can get the gist in the bulletin at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton’s website by clicking here: https://www.akseas.net. This week you get my latest column in the North Star Catholic. Enjoy.


Dear Fr. Leo:

     Why does the priest wash his hands during the offertory of the Mass?  Is it a remembrance of Pontius Pilate washing his hands in front of the crowd?  – M

Dear M,

     At first glance it would look like it, but it really doesn’t have anything to do with Pontius Pilate at all. It does have a lot to do with the early liturgies of Church. The offertory is a very important part of the Mass. Let’s put it into the larger context so you can see where washing of the celebrant’s hands comes in. 

     Holy Mass is both a true sacrifice and a shared, ritual meal. In the Old Testament, if you were going to offer sacrifice, you need four things: An altar, a priest, an offering or victim, and a reason.

     The ritual varied a little based on the reason for sacrifice, but typically it began when you brought your offering before the priest, i.e., the first fruits of your harvest or of your flock. It had to be unblemished because you always offered God your first and your best. You couldn’t just offer the heifer with the broken leg because you were going to get rid of it anyway. Once the priest laid hands on the victim, it was dedicated to God and could not be used for any other reason.  The animal was then slaughtered and its blood was poured out or sprinkled on the altar in the proscribed manner. The front left quarter was given to the priest for his payment. Certain other parts were placed upon the live coals on the altar to be burnt as an offering pleasing to God. Then you took the rest home and held a big party or sacrificial banquet. Thus, sacrifice and sacred eating are inseparable.  You never have the sacrifice without the meal and you never have the meal without the sacrifice. 

     There were four main reasons for offering a sacrifice.  There were sacrifices to give thanks, sacrifices to established covenants, sacrifices to forgive sins, and sacrifices to remember. The Church has always held that all previous sacrifices of all types were completed and perfected in the one, perfect sacrifice of Christ on the Cross. The Mass is our real participation in that one, perfect sacrifice. This is reflected in the words of institution, especially over the cup where we hear the priest say,

     “At the end of the meal, he took the cup, and once more giving you thanks, he gave it to his disciples, saying,

     ‘Take this all of you and drink from it.

This is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and eternal covenant.

It will be shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.

Do this in memory of me.”

     Four gifts are offered at the Mass in the Offertory.  The bread, the wine, our gifts of treasure, and ourselves. That’s why they are brought up by members of the congregation and presented to the celebrant.  Just like in sacrifices of old, whatever is offered is immolated and changed. But now instead of being burned and sent up as smoke, the bread and wine become the body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ, the gifts of treasure become heat, light, salaries for parish staff and all the things that go into the life of the parish, and finally we offer ourselves that we might be transformed by the grace that we receive at the Altar and in the midst of the Sacred Assembly.

     These days, the collection is a pretty sanitary process. Depending on the parish you are at, you either plop your envelope or online giving chit in the basket at the foot of the altar or in the collection basket as it comes by. Not so in the days of yore. People would bring what they had, vegetables, grains, chickens, even lambs. After receiving the gifts of the people, the celebrant’s hands were pretty grimy. So, before handling the sacred vessels, he would clean himself up. 

     As time went on, society moved from an agrarian, barter system to a monetary system.  Eventually, the washing of the celebrant’s became part of the private spiritual purification rite of the celebrant before the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  It is accompanied by beautiful little prayers.  First, he prays on behalf of the people, “Lord, we ask you to receive us, be pleased with the sacrifice we offer you with humble and contrite hearts.”  Then, while his hands are washed he says, “Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquities and cleanse me of my sins.” 

     Grace builds on nature. Like many things in the sacred liturgy, the washing of the celebrant’s hands, or the “Lavabo” as it is known, has a very practical origin that has taken on a very spiritual meaning. Hopefully, our own lives can be a reflection of the same. 

Good Neighbors

The world is a bit less friendly than it used to be. I remember years past when it was no big deal to pick up a hitchhiker on the Kenai Peninsula or on the Alcan Highway. Even around town it was no big deal to give a couple of ski bums a ride to Girdwood on a Saturday morning. And you always stopped to help someone broke down on the side of the road. It was just something we did without thinking. Times have changed, I guess. People are much more cautious these days.  

It doesn’t appear that things have changed all that much in 2000 years. I like the story of the Good Samaritan we hear in Luke’s gospel this week, but I always sort of wince when I read about the priest and the Levite passing on the other side of the street. What’s up with that?  It grates against our wholesome Alaskan ethos.

Biblical scholars help us understand a little bit about what was going on when they explain that both were probably on pilgrimage and on their way up to Jerusalem to worship in the Temple. Apparently, if they had stopped to help the man and (God forbid) actually touch him, they would have incurred a ritual impurity and thus been unable to enter the Temple area.

Okay.  Fine.  So what?

That is exactly Jesus’s point. It doesn’t matter if they were on their way to worship. There was a brother Jew in need, bleeding on the side of the road. The obligation of charity trumps the obligation of the law every time. 

There are several different kinds of law that we need to keep in mind. In order of priority, they are: 1) Divine Law, 2) Natural Law, 3) Human Positive Law, and 4) Custom. 

These are at play even in the life of the Church, but there is a priority even within each category. Keeping holy the sabbath is indeed Divine Law, given to us in the Second Commandment and should not be taken lightly. Nevertheless, if the parable of the Good Samaritan teaches us anything, it is that love of God and love of neighbor are inseparable. One cannot render authentic worship to God after having passed by a person in need. The scholar of the Law, gained this insight at the feet of Christ. We hear it again in our sacred assembly. 

May we have the grace to go and do likewise.

Credible Witnesses

Hello, Church fans! As many of you know, I am now at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish on Huffman Road on the hillside here in Anchorage. So far, so good. Here is the gist of the homily this weekend.


Transition can be a crazy time and always involves a lot of mixed emotions. The last thing this parish needs is any kind of change.  So, we are going to take things easy for a while, get our emotional and spiritual feet underneath us, and maybe have a little fun in the process. Cause if you think about it, when it comes to church, if you are not having fun, you are doing it wrong.

Take moving for example, right now, I am in the midst of unpacking all my stuff in the parish house. The garage is full of hunting gear, pilot gear, an antique bedroom set, some exercise equipment, and a couple of freezers full of moose and deer and fish and whatnot.  And then there are the boxes…so many boxes…

       But let me share you a moving hack that I learned about three parishes ago. As you look at that big pile of half-labeled boxes of all your belongings. Get yourself a little Christmas tree and put it in the middle. Then start playing Christmas music.  As you open each box, exclaim with delight, “Oh look!  Towels and washcloths!  How thoughtful!  These will be perfect for the bathroom!” Or, “what a lovely lamp! This will go perfect in the living room!”  It’s a nice way of reminding ourselves that we really don’t own anything.  Everything is a gift. You’re gonna leave I tal behind anyway.  Think about it.  You never see a hearse with a U-Haul behind it.

   Many of you may remember Fr. Justin Dzickowicz, OSB, the mad monk from New Jersey who served here briefly at St. Elizabeth’s in the early 2000’s. While he was in Alaska, he and I formed a deep friendship that lasts to this day. While I was pastor of St. Andrew’s he would come and visit for several weeks at a time, usually during the summer.  When he wasn’t doing that, he was serving as a missionary chaplain to a convent of Benedictine sisters in Namibia. One day, he was getting ready to head directly from Alaska to Namibia. Preparing for such a trip was a significant effort and soon the living room floor was covered with boxes of supplies and baggage. As he packed yet another box, muttering all the while to himself, he looked up and noticed me observing him quietly. “What?!” he said in exasperation.  I simply replied with Our Lord’s words from today’s gospel reading:

Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals;

and greet no one along the way…

“Oh, shut up!” he roared as I fled from the room. 

   But really, why did Jesus send the 72 out in such a way?  It helps to remember that in those days, much like the televangelists today, there were rabbis who were making a pretty good living by developing a following and building a little empire. By sending his disciples out thus, Jesus is making a very clear point that the Kingdom he proclaims transcends this material world. He sends his disciples as mendicants, dependent totally on the providence of God and the charity of those who will hear His message of salvation. In doing so, he ensures that they will be credible witnesses of the Good News.

   It’s a good reminder to us. A good reflection in our daily examen at the end of the day (you ARE doing a daily examen, yes?) is to ask, “As an intentional disciple of Jesus, like the 72, have I been a credible witness of the Gospel today?  Have I proclaimed the Kingdom in simple or even profound ways? Or, have I let the “stuff” of this world get in the way and dictate how I treat others? If so, what do I need to cast off so that I am a credible witness and a herald of Christ to the people and places that God sends me each day?

   It’s important that we make the most of every opportunity. Like the 72, Christ has sent you to this part of the world to herald his coming. And always remember, this coming week, you may be the only Gospel another person will ever hear. 

Transformed by Grace

 Howdy, Church fans! This is my last post from St. Patrick’s. Next week I will be at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish in south Anchorage. There was a lot more to the homily this week, but here is the kernel on the Scriptures for the Solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul.


    Many, many years ago, I was trying to figure out what my confirmation name would be. I tell our confirmation students every year, you don’t so much pick your patron as your patron picks you. This was true for me as well. I was leaning towards St. Paul because I admired his missionary zeal. However, soon before we were to turn in our names, I watched a mini-series called “Peter and Paul.”  It featured Anthony Hopkins as St. Paul and Robert Foxworth as St. Peter. By the time it was over, I found I resonated much more with St. Peter. So that’s the name with which I was confirmed.

       It’s not often the Solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul falls on a Sunday. Commemorating these two great princes of the Church, one it’s great shepherd and Bishop of Rome, and the other its great missionary, is particularly providential this weekend.

       St. Peter is a particularly compelling figure. I am struck by the difference between pre-Pentecost Peter and post-Pentecost Peter. Pre-Pentecost, he is sort of a holy goofball. He doesn’t get the whole picture, but he gets the one central thing right. He knows who Jesus is. As we hear today in the gospel (Mt. 16): “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” That is enough for him. The rest is just detail. Jesus knows this too and it’s enough for him. That’s why he said that the gates of hell would not prevail against the Church built on a faith such as Peter’s. (He didn’t say they wouldn’t try really hard, but we have seen over 20 centuries that they will not prevail.” 

       Post-Pentecost Peter is a changed man. With the gifts of the Holy Spirit, all the tumblers have now fallen into place. With the authority given to him by Christ, he leads the Church and preaches the gospel with bold eloquence. His kerygmatic discourses in Acts and his letters form a firm foundation for articulating the faith in any age. 

       St. Paul also goes through a similar transformation. He is zealously upholding the truth. But when he meets the Truth itself in the Resurrected Christ on the road to Damascus, his humility is what is truly striking. He too comes to know who Christ is, and that is enough for him. And it is enough for Jesus.

       It makes me wonder, is not a similar transformation not only possible, but intended by Christ for each one of us? Are we willing to let ourselves be transformed by the love of Christ into what God has created us to be? Given these two great princes of the Church, I believe that it is not only possible, but inevitable. 

       Like St. Paul, it is time for me to move on to the next place Christ wants me to be. As I go, my prayer is that every person in 99504 who encounters Christ as he is manifested here in the Parish family of St. Patrick’s will be transformed by the love of Christ, like St. Peter and St. Paul. All it takes is a little faith, a little humility, and a whole lot of Jesus. 

Really Jesus

     It’s disheartening how many Catholics are confused about the true and substantial presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, in the last 50 years. Blame it on poor catechesis, a lack of good preaching, or whatever. Turns out things were not all that different in the middle of the 13th century. It took the vision of St Juliana of Cornillon and the Eucharistic miracle at Bolsena, Italy, in 1263 where the precious blood spilled out of the consecrated host and onto the corporal and altar cloth, to get folks’ attention. Pope Urban IV was so moved by the miracle, that he had the bloodied corporal moved to the cathedral in Orvieto where it resides today. (I’ve actually seen it. It’s pretty cool.) The following year Pope Urban  proclaimed the universal celebration of the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Our Lord, commonly known by its Latin name of Corpus Christi

Throughout the years, the Church has come up with various ways to try to describe this great mystery of our faith in the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Eventually, the best we could come up with was to use Greek philosophical categories to at least attempt to describe a little of what was going on. Briefly put, all things are made up of their substance and their attributes. The substance of a person or thing is its essence, its identity—what or who it is in and of itself. The attributes are what it looks like. Take yourself for example. You have always been you. Your identity has not changed. But your attributes have. As you aged, you got  taller, more trim and better looking! Your substance is the same, but your attributes have changed.

In the Eucharist, the process is the opposite. The attributes remain the same. It still looks and tastes like bread and wine.  However, the substance, the essence, the identity of the bread and wine is changed into the body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ.

Why? Well, quite frankly, because Jesus said so. Like the resurrection, the mechanics of this mystery escape us. Furthermore, we have to be careful not to get too bogged down in the details of sacramental analysis.  We can try to understand certain aspects, and use, quite rightly, the term “trans-substantiation,” but even as we do so, we realize that we are only talking about one tiny aspect of the immensity of the reality that is the Eucharist. When we understand that all that Christ is, is truly present to all that we are; that there is nothing that separates us from the love of God in a holy communion at the very essence of who we are, it is truly astounding.

Pentecost, 2025 – The Power of Relationship

The Power of Relationship

      Think of your best friend, soulmate, BFF, bestie, or whoever you consider the one who knows you better than anyone. Now think of the quality of that relationship. How did it start? How did it develop. Were there any particular moments, trials, achievements, that took it to the next level? When you describe the relationship itself, what words do you use? How do you explain such a relationship? At a certain point, words will fail, but you can at least describe such a relationship gives you life. 

       In a nutshell, this is exactly what the Church does when we try to describe the Holy Spirit. Words will ultimately fail, but that does not mean we should not try.

       The key to pondering the reality of the Holy Spirit is to understand that we are talking about relationship. Specifically, we are referring to the relationship between the Father and the Son. Like all loving relationships, such as the one between a husband and wife, it includes the two principle parties; but like a good marriage, such a love cannot be contained to just those two. This is manifested in several ways.

       Love by its very nature is creative and life-giving. For example, in the total self-giving spiritual and physical union of husband and wife, body and soul, we are talking about love so intense in its expression that nine months later you may have to give it a name! Such a love literally begets a life of its own. In a similar, but perfect and eternal way, all creation including you and me is begotten of the loving,  creative love between the Father and the Son. 

       This power of the love of God we  call the Holy Spirit also sustains and sanctifies. We Catholics are not ‘deists.’  We do not believe that God set the world in motion and then walked away. Maybe checking on it from time to time as one will check the soup. No, Divine Love cares for what it begets. As Catholics we believe that God is present to all creation, sustains us, continues to redeem us and sanctify us.

       It is this last bit about sanctification which is the kicker. It is a very heady thing to realize that each of us, by our baptism and by the other sacraments of the Church, are invited to participate in the very relationship that is God. This “Holy Spirit,” which is the power of the love of God between the Father and the Son, this relationship of sanctifying grace is what enables us to be what God has intended for each of us when he loved us into being.

       May we welcome such grace and let it transform us to reflections of such a perfect love.

Power and Witness to the Ends of the Earth

     I worked construction for many years in the western Aleutian Islands. One of islands was a place called Shemya. It is a small island that sits about 1800 miles west of Anchorage, at 52°43′27″N 174°07′08″E in the North Pacific. As we used to say, “It’s not the end of the world, but you can see it from there.” There is an Air Force Base with a chapel there. I used to go to Mass there every Sunday.

       I wonder if our Lord had Shemya in mind when he said that the disciples would receive power from on high and be his witnesses to the ends of the earth. Perhaps, but in truth, the antipode of Jerusalem is in the middle of the South Pacific. The nearest city is Mataura in French Polynesia. That is as far away from Jerusalem as you can get on the planet. In downtown Mataura is the old parish church of Christ the King.      That is amazing, but we should not fall prey to the temptation of thinking that our work as disciples is complete. Geography is one thing. Demographics is another. As of the last study, Alaska was still one of the most unreligious places in the country. According to the 2020 Census, the population of Alaska was 733,391 in 2020. The adherent totals of all religious groups (258,020) made up only 35.2% of the total population. Of this, Catholics make up only 5.5% of the population (down from 8.7% twenty years ago.) We have work to do. 

       Thankfully, the same power from on high given to the disciples that allowed the gospel to travel to the remotest ends of the earth, is the same power given to you and to me by virtue of our baptism and confirmation. Now, however, our focus needs to shift from geography to demography and even, if I may, to spiritual physiology.   

       I have said before that the Ascension of Christ to the right hand of the Father and the sending of the Holy Spirit allows Christ to be as truly and substantially present today in every time and place, as He was to the disciples in his Passion, Death and Resurrection. This is accomplished by the power of the Holy Spirit through the grace of sacraments of the Church.   The difference now is that our efforts must be directed to reaching those souls and hearts which are furthest away from Christ and his Church. For us here in St. Patrick’s the focus is two-fold.  First, we must strengthen the faith and open the door of interior conversion to the people in our own parish family. Second, we need to reach out to those in 99504 who are searching for the truth and introduce them to the One who is Truth itself.

Sure we have work to do, but we do so having entered the true sanctuary and clothed with Power from on high.

And if you think about it, if your entire life is spent bringing just one other person to the Gospel, is that not a life well spent?

Waiting and Wondering. Moving Across Town

It’s nice to live in the time of fulfillment. After 2000 years of Christian living, we know what Jesus was talking about when he promised the coming Advocate to the disciples before he went to the Father. Those in the Upper Room, however, were hearing it for the first time. How could they know or appreciate what he meant? That realization would not come until the Holy Spirit actually descended on Mary and the apostles at Pentecost. In the meantime, they had to wait and wonder about what he said.
I have always been struck by the difference between Jesus’s words to the disciples before the resurrection and his words after.
So often during his ministry he would encourage or reassure the disciples by saying, “Be not afraid!” But after the resurrection, his first words are almost invariably, “Peace be with you.” Perhaps this is because everything changes after the resurrection. The price for sin has been paid, a disordered world is set aright, and all creation is reconciled to God. Things can now be as they should be. It is the time of fulfillment which continues to unfold unto the present day.
The Christian who loves Christ and keeps his word realizes this. The Father and the Son love him and make their dwelling with him. This indwelling of the love of God, who we know as the Holy Spirit, gives a peace that the world cannot give. Rooted in the love of the Father, redeemed by Christ, and animated by the Holy Spirit, we stand in the truth in love, no matter what chaos this passing world may throw our way.
This promise of Christ to his disciples as recorded in the Gospel of John (14:23-29), is the promise of Christ that allows us to move from “Be not afraid.” to “Peace be with you.”
It is Christ’s gift to us. Let us make it our gift to the world.


MOVING TO ST. ELIZABETH’S

Yes, it is true. Effective July 1, 2025, I will be pastor of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish in south Anchorage. It’s been a good run here at St. Patrick’s, a time of growth for the parish, the people and the pastor. Lots to do before then. Let’s go do good thing for Jesus.

We Win!!!

Perhaps one of the most misunderstood books of the Bible is the Book of Revelation (No “s”, by the way). It’s understandable given that it is a very particular type of text known as “apocalyptic literature.” It comes from the Greek word apokalysis which literally means “unveiling” as when a statue is revealed when the veil is taken away.  Colloquially, it can mean “to bring one to knowledge he could not get on his own” or simply “revelation.” Most notably, it is seen in certain parts of the Book of Daniel and in the Book of Revelation, but also in Isaiah and various parts of many of the prophetic books. It became very popular in post-exile Judaism as a way to make sense of present suffering and how the righteousness of God would reconcile all things in his divine justice, and establish lasting peace. Of course, when you are being persecuted, the last thing you  want to do is name your persecutor outright. By using highly symbolic language, it allowed the author to identify certain people, places and events without others outside the group knowing about it. Thus, Rome becomes “Babylon” and the Emperor Nero becomes “The Beast” whose name, if you translate it into Roman numerals adds up to “666.”

     Despite what Hollywood would like you to believe, the purpose of the Revelation of John as the book is rendered in English, is not to be a repository of strange and mysterious prophecies of cosmic, cataclysmic struggles, but rather it is written down by John to the churches who were being persecuted to strengthen their faith and remind them that no matter what they may have had to endure, in the end God’s mercy and God’s justice will prevail.  In short, a subtitle of the Book of Revelation could be “We Win!!!” or more specifically, “Christ wins and we who are united with Christ are victorious with him.” 

     In the five verses we see in this week’s second reading (Rev 21:1-5a), we see the revelation of a new heaven and a new earth.  The old order has passed away. Gone are sin and suffering and death. Everything, including us, is as God has intended for it to be. This is nothing to be feared. This is the fulfillment of all that we could hope for, and more than we can imagine.

     Still, we have an odd tendency to think that this is some kind of far off, distant reality. In truth, it is something that has been unfolding since Pentecost. Even now Christ is renewing the face of the earth. God’s plan of salvation is unfolding in the life of every Christian. The Kingdom of God is in our midst.