Homily, 11th Sun O.T. Year B–Father’s Day and the Small Things

In the early 1900’s, Hilaire Belloc, an English Catholic writer, wrote one of the best travelogues of all time, The Path to Rome. He walked extensively all over Britain and Europe and for this particular book, he walked from central France, across the Alps, and all the way down to Rome. As he walked, he wrote descriptions about the people and places he met along the way, along with drawings of the route, and some humor, poetry, and other reflections here and there. One of the things he discovered along his walks was the importance of simple good deeds, like courtesy. Small deeds, like courtesy, multiplied across the span of his journey, tended to become the theme that characterized the whole way. He wrote:

Of Courtesy, it is much less
Than Courage of Heart or Holiness,
Yet in my Walks it seems to me
That the Grace of God is in Courtesy.

On Monks I did in Sorrington fall,
They took me straight into their Hall;
I saw Three Pictures on a wall,
And Courtesy was in them all.

The first the Annunciation;
The second the Visitation;
The third the Consolation,
Of God that was Our Lady’s Son.

The first was of Saint Gabriel;
On Wings a-flame from Heaven he fell;
And as he went upon one knee
He shone with Heavenly Courtesy.

Our Lady out of Nazareth rode –
It was Her month of heavy load;
Yet was Her face both great and kind,
For Courtesy was in Her Mind.

The third it was our Little Lord,
Whom all the Kings in arms adored;
He was so small you could not see
His large intent of Courtesy.

Courtesy is small and simple, like the mustard seed in our Gospel today. The typical mustard seed is about a sixteenth of an inch round, but it can grow to become a huge tree, about 15 feet tall in a matter of weeks! Jesus uses this image to describe how his kingdom, the Church, begins with twelve poor fishermen and grows to span every corner of the globe. The point for us is to not neglect or ignore small things.

In the Church this weekend, we celebrate the 11^th Sunday in the Season of the Year, the Season of Ordinary Time. This is the season in which we focus not so much on a particular mystery in the life of Jesus, Mary, or the Saints, as we do in Advent or Lent, but on the routine, day-to-day responsibilities of a Catholic. It is faithfulness to the small aspects of Catholic life that build us up into faithful Catholics, not so much the occasional celebration of the big events, like the Holy Days of Obligation.

The small deeds matter, perhaps most of all… Like the Morning Offering when you wake up, offering to God all the “prayers, works, joys, and sufferings” of the day… or making the Sign of the Cross as you say Grace before meals when you eat out in public as a family… or taking a few minutes to pray with your kids at night before they go to sleep. There are other small acts that build up the Catholic life too… like praying quietly before Mass, or kneeling for a few minutes after the final hymn to give thanks to God, rather than talking with friends or family… or saying during a difficult time “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner” or saying the names of the Holy Family: “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, pray for me.” These are the mustard seeds of faith – small and simple, taking only a few seconds or minutes to do – that grow over time to become the tree of a lively Catholic identity.

As we celebrate the civic holiday of Father’s Day – this attention to small deeds and virtues could perhaps be especially commended to fathers. We all have special memories of the small acts of kindness that our fathers did for us, that left the most lasting impression. For me, its memories of my dad taking a prayer card out of his shirt pocket when he came home from work late at night, and teaching my brothers and me how to pray… or the way he would always say “Aaaaa-Men!” at the end of grace before meals… or when he took us through the drive-through at my granddad’s store and get us each a piece of gum.

Speaking to all of the natural fathers here today, and myself as a spiritual father, if we want our children and families to be good Catholics and good citizens, families we can be proud of, families we can be honored to present to our heavenly Father when we meet Him face-to-face one day, then we cannot neglect the small acts of kindness and virtue. What may seem like only a mustard seed for us, could become the tree of their lives.

One father that I am good friends with told me a story about a time when he was reading a novel that he had always wanted to read. It wasn’t the greatest novel in the world but he was nearing the end and was anxious to see what would happen. His wife and daughter were out running errands so he settled into his chair and picked up his book. But then the phone rang which turned into a task he had to follow-up on, on his computer. He finally got back to his chair only to have his wife and daughter come home five minutes later.

My friend’s wife wanted to discuss a couple of things with him and his daughter wanted to tell him about her day. But he sat there, book in hand, glancing up at them, and down at his book, and up again… giving them the signal that they were interfering with something very important. But then he asked himself, “Who do I love more? This book? Or my family?” So he sat his book down, scooped up his daughter into his lap and let her tell him all about her day. Then he had a delightful conversation with his wife. The sacrifice was worth it. He had an enjoyable moment with his family and they saw once again the primacy they have in his life. He wasn’t called at that moment to give his life for his family. He was simply called to put down his book. He chose to love his family more, so he showed them his love.

It is formation brought about by these day to day virtues, or lack thereof, that either makes or breaks fathers in this country. Now, neither my friend’s wife, nor his daughter would have concluded that he didn’t love them had he continued to halfheartedly listen to them. But, in a small way, their relationship would have been diminished. What was a one-time hint could have easily grown into a full-blown message: “What I want, when I want it, is more important than you.”

And I know that for me too, as a spiritual father, small things matter. Spending a few minutes with the kids playing kickball during recess at the school is something that they always remember. Or saying “Bye” to them at the end of the day as they get in their parents’ car is something small, but I know it makes a difference. And I will work to be more attentive to the small things during my second year with all of you.

I encourage the fathers of our parish to take a moment during this Mass to think about how you and your family are doing with the small acts of Catholic identity. You don’t have to startup a nightly family rosary tomorrow, but maybe you can say one Hail Mary together after dinner or before everyone goes to sleep – and build up little-by-little to a family rosary. You don’t have to start coming to daily Mass tomorrow, but maybe while the kids are home from school, grandparents could make one day, like Friday, the Family Mass Day and take the kids. These things matter and they build on each other. They could make the difference between having a family of only a casual, occasional faith to one fully grown and blossomed. God promised us his help with this: “I, the Lord… lift high the lowly tree… and make the withered tree bloom,” he said to Ezekiel. Finally, with his help “we shall flourish like the palm tree” and grow like a Lebanon cedar, “planted in the house of the Lord,” we shall “flourish in the courts of our God,” still bearing fruit when we are old, still full of sap, still green.

Wedding Homily, Richard and Karen Woodham–“Salt and Light”

Again, “Welcome!” to Gary and Karen, and all of their friends and family to St. James for this wedding Mass. Of course, this will be a day you will always remember. As this is my first wedding as a recently ordained priest, this day means a lot to me too. I am honored to be able to celebrate the sacraments of Matrimony and the Eucharist with you today.

When I gave Karen the options that she and Gary could choose from for the readings, I think they were a little overwhelmed! There are 35 readings to choose from and some of those have both short and long versions! So Karen picked a few in each category and said, “Here, you decide!” I was happy to help and I think the readings we settled on for today present a theme that is rich in meaning for today and for continued reflection in the months and years ahead. After all of the prayer, work, and conversations we have had, I think we prepared well for this wedding, but the point is to be prepared even more for the marriage. I like that Gary and Karen wanted to have just a simple daily Mass, so that then the focus really can be not on just one day – as important as it is – but on their lifetime of days together with Christ. I encourage you to allow the readings we have heard to be the light that guides you forward.

The theme I have discerned in these readings is The Christian Witness of a Holy Marriage. The Sacrament of Marriage is not for just you two alone. It is a public reality, signified by the witnesses who stand beside you and your friends and family gathered around you. By exchanging your consent before a priest and two witnesses, according to the mind of Christ and the Church, the two of you will become married. But you will also become the “salt of the earth”, and the “light of the world” as St. Matthew’s Gospel reminds us. Granted, this is the calling of all Christians, but it is yours today in a special and unique way. By your marriage, you will be given the noble mission of showing the world, by your faithfulness, fruitfulness, perseverance, and love, the kind of love that Christ has for all of us.

Being the “salt of the earth” is a great challenge indeed, because salt can be used for both good or ill. Salt is used well when it is sprinkled on food to add or bring out its flavor. But, salt is used for ill if it is sprinkled on the ground, because there it prevents growth. If you allow the grace of the sacrament of Marriage to flow freely through your lives – by helping each other to remain innocent and holy before God – then the example of your married life can be like salt sprinkled on food. It will give flavor to the institution of marriage, one that so often sours in our society today. But if you give into temptation and yield to the attacks on marriage that are all around us, then your marriage will be like salt sprinkled on the ground. Christ within you, and this community around you, hope to always be there to help you not let that happen.

Our readings have shown us what a grace-filled marriage looks like. The first reading from Sirach focused on the beauty that a “good wife” contributes to her marriage and household. She is a blessing who “brings joy to her husband,” giving him peace and abundance. She herself is a “generous gift,” making his heart content, “a smile is always on his face.” She “delights her husband,” the reading said and “puts flesh on his bones” – she feeds him! She is modest and chaste, holy, decent and temperate. All of these traits build and build, ascending to the highest one of all – she is virtuous, and like the rising sun, a virtuous wife is the radiance of her home.

Karen, that’s a lot to live up too! But you are already on your way. And Jesus Christ, who gives himself to you and Gary in the Eucharist you will receive, will always be at the center of your marriage, if you both accept him there, ready to help and renew you in all of those virtues and more. This is just as our Responsorial Psalm said, “The Lord is near to all who call upon him, to all who call upon him in truth.” Now what about Gary? What does he have to live up to!? I think the second reading and Gospel balance out the reading from Sirach nicely.

Gary, for his part, is called to protect his marriage from being “conformed to this age,” as St. Paul put it. He and his wife will be of one mind, and he is being called to make sure that that “mind” is transformed and renewed in God so that together they may “discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.” If his love is sincere, if he hates what is evil and holds on to what is good, then he will add many flavors of affection, honor, zeal, service, hope, perseverance, and hospitality to his marriage – again with the help and example of Christ who himself is the Groom to his Bride, the Church.

This is how Gary and Karen can be the “salt of the earth,” when they help the world to know, by their very living-out of the vocation of marriage, the true Christian flavor of marriage. This is how their marriage can be the “light of the world,” when it shines on the friends, family, and community around them – showing them what true love, joy, and peace can really be, even in the midst of difficulties. With the help that God gives them in this sacrament and the Eucharist, they can show the world that marriage indeed can be lifelong, total, faithful, and fruitful, no matter what they have been through or will go through – not because their marriage will be perfect, but precisely because they will be like the sun. Although the sun at times will set on their marriage, with faith and hope, it will always rise again. This is the faith and hope that God renews in you now, Gary and Karen, as you enter into the Holy Sacrament of Marriage.

Homily Trinity Sunday, Year B–Love, the Essence of God and of the Family

I’ve been involved in many youth and young adult groups over the years. One of the most effective ways I have seen for causing the group to be quiet was for the leader to make the Sign of the Cross. You could have 20 or 30 talking, joking, clowning teenagers but when the leader said, “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” the whole group, with its Catholic instinct, immediately made the Sign of the Cross and quieted down.

While this is sort of a gimmick, I think it speaks to something very true. The Sign of the Cross was for most of us, the first prayer we ever learned. It is commonplace to Catholics, we make it all the time and know it right away. The Sign of the Cross in the life of a Catholic serves to root his entire life in the mystery that it expresses. But it can also have an unfortunate effect. It is so common that we can easily take it for granted and not give it, or our Trinitarian God, much thought. When we dip our fingers in Holy Water and make the Sign of the Cross as we enter the Church, do we think about what this really means? When we genuflect to the tabernacle before entering the pew, do we make the Sign of the Cross purposefully? When we make the Sign of the Cross after receiving the Body and Blood of Christ in Holy Communion, do we make it with reverence and awe at Who we have received?

Today, the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity is the perfect day to re-focus and concentrate all the more on Who God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, really is. The Holy Trinity, is the most supreme Truth of our Christian faith. For that reason, this Sunday is commonly regarded among priests as the hardest feast day to preach. It is important though that we still strive more and more to be as clear as we can about Who God Is. This is a great mystery that is only fully understood in heaven. But just because God is a mystery, doesn’t mean we simply resign and move on. The meaning of life itself is the lifelong pursuit of this mystery, of Who God Is and who we are to Him. We must not give up on it.

The Feast of the Holy Trinity comes now, near the beginning of Ordinary Time, I think, because it is the pinnacle of all of the great feast days we have celebrated so far: of Christmas, of Mary, Mother of God, the Epiphany, the Baptism of our Lord, Lent, Easter, the Ascension, and Pentecost. They all culminate in the Holy Trinity. Each feast day, one after the next, has revealed one more aspect of who God is. He became man, to a virgin mother, revealed himself to all nations, and underwent Baptism to show us the way to eternal life. He was crucified, died, was buried and ascended into heaven to show us, as Paul said, that “if we suffer with him we will be glorified with him.” And God the Holy Spirit came to us to preserve us in these truths. In fact, every feast day, every Sunday, every liturgical act is a celebration of the Holy Trinity, of God who is one in nature, but three in Persons. These three are numerically one, for there is only one God, just as Moses said in our first reading, “The Lord is God… there is no other.” There is only one, single, undivided God. This God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Scott Hahn, a popular Catholic theologian, has an interesting approach to the Trinity that I like very much. He explains that we often give up when it comes to mystery because we approach mysteries like we approach math problems. The doctrine of the Trinity tells us that three Persons are One God, but we know in math that three does not equal one. The Church accepts the truths of other sciences. How then can we understand the Trinity? Hahn suggests that mystery is better understood less like a math problem and more like a marriage. He wrote in his book, Signs of Life: “We cannot ever ‘figure out’ a spouse, but we can certainly grow in love, knowledge, and understanding of that person. The Trinity is the loving relationship we hope to know forever in heaven. If we are not growing in our love of that mystery, we are not growing any closer to heaven. And if that is so then our faith is superficial” (p 221-226).

The image of marriage helps us to understand mystery, but especially the mystery of the Trinity. God is not an in solitary confinement in heaven. The Godhead, the Trinity, is a community of love. The Father loves the Son from all eternity. The Son receives and returns this love from all eternity. And the love that they share is divine and so intense that it is a third Person, the Holy Spirit, proceeding forth from them from all eternity. This image of the Holy Trinity as the Lover, the Beloved, and the Love They Share is the one St. Augustine used to illustrate the Holy Trinity. This is an image we can know ourselves. In marriage, we see a husband who loves his wife so much that he gives his life and all he has to her. She receives this love completely and loves him completely in return. And the love they have is so intense that proceeding from their love is a third person, a child. Love is the essence of the family, as it is the essence of God. “Deus Caritas Est,” we read in 1 Jn 4:16 – God Is Love.

That is why Jesus empowered and commissioned his apostles to “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” so that we could be “heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ,” brought into the inner life of the Trinity, into the family of God, and made sharers in His eternal exchange of Love. In our Baptism we received “a Spirit of adoption, through whom we cry, “Abba, Father!” In the sacraments, and especially in the Eucharist, this Spirit and this love is renewed. Through the Eucharist, behold, God is with us always, “until the end of the age.” This renewal allows you to continually know God, even if your particular point of reference for God, your natural family, is broken. He forms us in love to the degree that we accept His love through the sacramental life of the Church and share it through our good deeds. Love is a mysterious thing, the more we give it away the more it increases in us. This is a love we can rely on even if everyone else fails us. It all starts with the Sign of the Cross, the power and the mission to live the life of God.

Homily Ascension Sunday–Christ at the Father’s Right Hand and by Our Side

At the seminary I went to in Baltimore, St. Mary’s, we were encouraged soon after we arrived to pick a spiritual director. A spiritual director is a priest who helps someone discern the will of God and the action of the Holy Spirit in his life. For us, our spiritual directors helped us to grow closer and closer to this call we had received: to be priests of Jesus Christ. They helped us discern which things in our lives were of God, and which were of the evil one. My spiritual director was a priest on the faculty: Fr. Anthony Perez.

It didn’t take me much time at all to know that I wanted Fr. Perez to be my spiritual director. He had a quiet, confident presence in the seminary. He always joined the seminarians for prayer, even while other faculty members were often too busy. He sat in the same pew in the chapel every time, as an ever-present journeyman along the often difficult way of seminary life. He always wore his clerical attire too, which impressed me so much – he was a constant witness to us of what God was forming us to be. He loved the liturgy too which enkindled my own love for it and my dedication to celebrating it well. Most of all, we knew that he loved us.

In the beginning of my third year of theology, my second to last year of seminary, he died tragically and suddenly while doing what he loved – spending time with seminarians. He was playing racket-ball with a group of guys at the local gym when he fell suddenly to a massive heart attack. One of the guys with him was a cardiac technician before he entered seminary – but even he could do nothing for him. At the Vigil Service before Fr. Perez’s funeral, one of the other priests on the faculty said something in his homily that I’ll never forget. He said that during Fr. Perez’s earthly life he directed many seminarians in their spiritual lives. We should never forget, he said, that Fr. Perez still directs us, only now in the silence of our hearts. Although I picked a new spiritual director for my last two years who was also very helpful, I felt in my heart Fr. Perez’s continued spiritual direction – helping me to make it to Priesthood.

We feel a similar tinge of bitterness today as we celebrate the solemnity of the Ascension of our Lord into Heaven. For 40 days after his death and resurrection he has been revealing himself to his apostles and us. He adds new depth of meaning to the time we have already spent with him. One of my favorite saints, St. Josemaria Escriva, puts it beautifully in his reflection on today’s feast:

We miss his human speech, his way of acting, of looking, of smiling, of doing good. We would like to go back and regard him closely again, as he sits down at the edge of the well, tired from his journey; as he weeps for Lazarus; as he prays for a long time; as he feels pity for the crowd… But I think that the sadness that is particular to the day of the ascension is also a proof of the love we feel for Jesus Christ, our Lord. He is God made man, perfect man, with flesh like ours, with blood like ours in his veins. Yet he leaves us and goes up to Heaven. How can we help but miss his presence? (In Conversation with God, Vol. 2, p. 535).

There were times when I was struggling with something and I wanted so much to go to Fr. Perez’s room, knock on his door, and get his advice. I wanted him to teach me how to celebrate Mass, the last class of seminary. I wanted him to be at my Priesthood Ordination. In my prayer, memory, thoughts, and feelings, he did teach me how to celebrate Mass and he was at my Priesthood Ordination. It took some time but I finally realized that my task at hand was to become the type of priest that would honor him and the direction he had given me. And so that is what I have tried to do.

For all of us today, our task at hand is to wait, as Jesus said, for “the promise of the Father about which we have heard him speak” – to wait for a renewed gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, a wondrous gift we will celebrate next weekend. When we receive His Power we must be his witnesses “to the ends of the earth.” “This Jesus who has been taken up from us into heaven will return in the same way.” His earthly mission has been accomplished, our has just begun.

We are not alone though in our respective missions, in our various ways of life. While Jesus has taken his rightful place at the right-hand of God, as the Head of the Church which is his body, he continues to live and work among us. He still speaks to us when the Gospel is proclaimed. He still heals us through the sacraments of anointing of the sick and confession. He is still interceding for us through his priesthood and sustaining us through the Eucharist and all of the sacraments. His physical presence is no more, but that doesn’t make him less really present to us as he lives in our hearts in Holy Communion, as we enjoy his presence in the tabernacle.

We can either live as if he is no longer among us or we can live knowing that he is always by our side. “May your hearts be enlightened,” Paul wrote to the Ephesians, “that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call, what are the riches of glory in his inheritance among the holy ones, and what is the surpassing greatness of his power for us who believe.” Christ’s continued presence among us, in the Church and her ministers, in the divine life of the sacraments, in our faith, in the good works that we do, in each us, gives new meaning and vigor to our lives. With this realization, a single mother is no longer the only guiding light of her family. With this realization, long hours at work to support a family are no longer worthless. With this realization, the good things we do that go unnoticed are noticed by he who matters most. Be not afraid! Christ lives! As he lives among us, he shows us that life is worth living to the full. And as he sits at the right hand of God he gives us hope that we can live there too.

Homily Easter Sunday Mass during the Day: The Light of Christ

This morning, I am so happy to be celebrating with you this Easter Sunday, the Sunday of my first Easter Triduum as a priest. Last night’s celebration of the Easter Vigil in which 19 catechumens and candidates were Baptized and brought into Full Communion with the Catholic Church, was a wonderful experience. I must say though, it really didn’t hit me until Kevin, our Music Director, and the choir sang so beautifully the Hallelujah Chorus of Handel’s “Messiah” right after Communion. I was so fixated on what I had to do and what was coming next that my heart had not been opened yet to the joy of this day. That Hallelujah burst it wide open!

Imagine the joy our catechumens and candidates felt! Some of them had not yet been baptized and so they descended into the Baptismal font with Fr. Chuck, were immersed three times in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, rising out of the waters filled with Divine Life. They were one with Christ in a special way. In going down into the water they died with Him as he did on Good Friday. In rising out of the font, they were raised with Him as he did today. They then were immediately confirmed, as were the candidates for Full Communion who had been baptized in other faiths. They were sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit who enhanced and completed the graces they received in Baptism. Finally, they received their first Holy Communion, in which Christ fed them with his glorified Body and Blood under the appearance of bread and wine. What a miraculous night! In one continuous celebration, they died and rose with Christ; were washed of their sins; their souls were infused with Faith, Hope, and Love; they were made sons and daughters of God, brothers and sisters of Christ, and co-heirs with him of the riches of heaven; they were made members of the Church, soldiers for Christ, and now share fully in Holy Communion! Little Sabrina Bergman, one of the girls who was baptized, was already a bundle of joy, wait until you see her now, filled with so many powerful graces!

The power of this day reaches all of our hearts wherever and whoever we are… just as it reached the hearts of St. Mary Magdaline and the women; and the hearts of St. Peter and St. John, causing them to run to the tomb in search of Jesus. Even Catholics who rarely attend Mass, find their way back to this Easter day. Each one of us, from the daily Mass-goer, to the Christmas-and-Easter Catholic, have carried some darkness that Christ today wants to illuminate with his glorious Light. Today, darkness is no more; it yields to and is conquered by, the Risen Son. No matter what type of darkness we carry, Christ today conquers it with his healing light: whether it be darkness of mind in not knowing our faith very well, darkness of heart in not caring much about it, darkness in memory of an offense that has kept us away, or the darkness of a tragedy in the family or of frustration with ourselves – no matter the darkness, the healing Light of Christ shines on it today.

Have you all ever been to Mammoth Cave in south central Kentucky? I remember going on a field trip there in high school. One of the schticks they do is to lead a group of people into the heart of the cave and then turn out all the lights. Then the tour guide asks the group to put their hands in front of their faces and try to see them. It’s no use, he says. In a dark room or a dark house, our eyes will eventually pick up on some small source of light like the moonlight or a lamp in the distance. But in the heart of that cave, there is no light to get used too. Our eyes will never adjust, he says, not matter how long we sit there. At that moment it begins to get very uncomfortable. Perfect Dark. The moment you can start to feel the tension in the cave, the tour guide slowly turns the lights back on much to everyone’s great relief. We got a sense of this last night, when all of the lights of the Church were off, representing the individual and collective darkness that mankind suffers without the Light of Christ. Soon though the Easter Candle, lit from the Easter fire, showed us the way.

The temptation for each of us is to just get used to the darkness rather than let the Light of Christ illuminate it. We become acclimated to bumping around in the night – it becomes our new normal. And I’m speaking for all of us here today, myself included. We get used to the same bad habit, guilty pleasure, personality quirk, or weakness and we forget that the Light of Christ is much stronger than that thing we try to give up every year for Lent. We forget that the Light of Christ has actually already won. We tend to think of ourselves as downtrodden and hoping for victory, rather than victories and hoping to maintain the victory. It’s like being in Mammoth Cave, holding my hand in front of my face trying to see it in the dark, and then using it to cover my eyes once the tour guide turns the lights on. Or it’s like sitting outside at the Easter Vigil, when the Easter fire has burned out, rather than coming inside with the Easter Candle and all the lights.

Don’t let the devil rob you of your joy. Again, everyone from the daily Mass-goer to the Christmas-and-Easter Catholic has something holding them back. Today, no matter what it is, let Christ’s Light heal and conquer it. Today is a day of joy and gladness – a joy and gladness that lasts for 50 days, and God-willing well beyond – as Christ works in our hearts with His grace, getting us more used to him than to the darkness, making new, or deepened, faithfulness to Him and to His Church our new normal. Today he leads us and he not only turns on the light, but walks us out of the cave, and he not only keeps the Easter fire burning, but leads us into the Church and into the center of the divine life of the Trinity. In the great movie, The Mission, Mendoza, a slave hunter on the cusp of conversion, says to the Spanish Jesuit, Fr. Gabriel: “For me there is no redemption, no penance great enough.” Fr. Gabriel replies, “There is. But do you dare to try it?” That is our Lord’s challenge to you and me: Do we dare try to let His Light, His Joy, His Redemption transform our lives?

Homily Good Friday – Christ, Still King on the Cross

About three years ago, I went on a retreat with a group from St. Athanasius before my third year of theology and I saw a crucifix I think I will never forget. Our retreat was to the EWTN Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Hanceville, AL. When we arrived at the grounds of the Shrine and monastery, the first thing we saw was a large castle, complete with all the architectural elements and furniture of a real castle.

The reason they have such a castle, practically, is so that the constant stream of pilgrims to their Shrine will have a place to congregate, eat, visit the gift shop, or listen to retreat directors without disturbing the quiet of the square outside that is between the castle and the Shrine Church. But, spiritually, this castle is a very real reminder of the spiritual warfare that is waged all around us and the necessity for all of us to engage this battle with courage and resolve. And a castle always reminds us that we have a king, Jesus Christ, who has fought and won the battle against sin and death.

As we passed through the castle and crossed the square toward the Church we noticed two long colonnades on either side, one containing the Stations of the Cross and the other the crucifix that I so vividly remember. It was life-sized and commissioned by an artist to reflect the wounds which are shown in the Shroud of Turin, the burial cloth in which Jesus was wrapped when he was laid in the tomb. Literally every inch of his body was slashed or wounded. The sight of it almost made me recoil, it was hard to look at. But I think this has been the common reaction of all mankind since that first, dark, Good Friday afternoon. Indeed, as Isaiah the prophet foretold, “Many were amazed at him – so marred was his look beyond that of man, and his appearance beyond that of mortals – so shall he startle many nations, because of him kings shall stand speechless … He was… One of those from whom men hide their faces” (Isaiah 52:14-15; 53:3).

Crucifixion was the most painful and degrading punishment that the Roman empire employed, so horrible that Romans were exempt from it – it was reserved for the worst criminals of the lands they occupied. The words of the great Roman orator, Cicero, show how infamous a punishment it was: “That a Roman citizen should be bound is an abuse,” he said, “that he be lashed is a crime; that he be put to death is virtually [as to kill one’s closest relative]; what, then, shall I say, if he be hung on a cross? There is no word fit to describe a deed so horrible.”[1]

How then does the castle hold true? Is this the king we were all prepared to meet? He is king, and upon the cross, especially so. But we need not be afraid, for He is unlike any king we have ever known. Isaiah, again, foretold “Because of his affliction he shall see… his portion among the great, and he shall divide the spoils with the mighty, Because he surrendered himself to death and was counted among the wicked” (Is 53:11, 12). And the author of the Letter to the Hebrews proclaimed “Therefore, since we have a great high priest who passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us… confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help” (Heb 4:14, 16).

“To men Christ’s kingship may seem paradoxical: he dies, yet he lives forever; he is defeated and crucified, yet he is victorious”[2]. But, throughout His Passion and Death that we contemplate today, Christ’s Kingship is maintained. Our account from John’s Gospel in particular emphasizes

“that Jesus freely accepted his death (Jn 14:31) and freely allowed himself to be arrested (18:4, 11). The Gospel shows our Lord’s superiority over his judges (18:20-21) and accusers (19:8, 12); and his majestic serenity in the face of pain, which makes one more aware of [Jesus’ triumph] than of his actual sufferings.”[3]

His kingship as a man was meek and moderated. He did not allow the royalty of his divinity, his claim on all creation, to have the glorious splendor it deserved because He did not come to exercise earthly power. He wanted a spiritual reign, to rule over hearts. To prove it, he made his cross his last earthly throne: Upon his death on the cross, “God highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every other name, that at the name of Jesus every knee must [bend], in heaven and on earth and under the earth; and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Phil 2:9-11).

What then does Christ’s kingship mean for us? The Catholic Church is the budding forth of his kingdom on earth (Lumen gentium 5). Each one of us is called to participate in this kingdom and expand it through our good works. The Lord should be the king of our families, and he should reign among our friends, neighbors and colleagues at work.[4] But his reign starts with each of us. Does he reign in our minds with firm belief in truth and doctrine? Does he reign in our will with obedience to the will of God? Does he reign in our hearts with love for God above all things? The good thief, at his bitter end, looking at Christ on the cross, recognized his kingship, placed his trust in him and received the promise of heaven: “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingly power.” (Lk 23:42). We faithful Christians do not wait till our bitter end; we make this same appeal tonight as we embrace and kiss the cross, on which hung the salvation of the world.

---

[1] Navarre Commentary, St. John, 186.
[2] Ibid., 181
[3] Ibid., 173-174
[4] In Conversation with God, Vol. 5, “Christ the King”, by Fr. Francis Fernandez

Rite for the Blessing of a Child in the Womb

Vatican City, 3 April 2012 (VIS) - Beginning in the second week of May when many countries around the world celebrate Mother's Day, the text of the "Rite for the Blessing of a Child in the Womb", having received the approval of the Holy See, will be made available in parishes throughout the United States. The announcement was made recently in a note issued by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops informing the faithful that the the text - printed in both English and Spanish - has received the "recognitio" of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments.

Cardinal Daniel N. DiNardo, archbishop of Galveston-Houston and chairman of the episcopal conference's Committee on Pro-Life Activities, has explained that the blessing was prepared to "support parents awaiting the birth of their child, to encourage parish prayers for and recognition of the precious gift of the child in the womb, and to foster respect for human life within society". The blessing may be imparted either during the liturgy or outside of Mass and the text will eventually be included in the Book of Blessings, after it has been revised.

The blessing of unborn children was promoted by Archbishop Joseph Edward Kurtz of Louisville. When bishop of Knoxville he had asked the Committee on Pro-Life Activities to see whether a blessing existed for a child in the womb. When none was found, the committee began preparing a text which was presented to the Divine Worship Committee in March 2008. In November of the same year the full body of bishops approved the prayer and it was sent to the Holy See for the "recognitio".

Homily Palm Sunday – A Deeper Faith

Today marks the beginning of a rapid succession of external rituals in the life of a Catholic. We are reminded of Ash Wednesday when we received the blessed ashes on our foreheads. Today we receive palm branches and we fold them into neat little crosses. On Holy Thursday we have the foot-washing. On Good Friday we kneel and kiss the Cross. And Saturday night, the Easter Vigil, is filled with incense, chants, exclamations, water, oil, and light. All of these, even the deadening silence and emptiness of the altar on Good Friday, are rich experiences that flood our senses.

It somehow makes sense that we show up in such larger numbers to these liturgies than to the common Sunday obligation. Our Lord made us to be sensing beings and uses our senses to relate himself to us. But what will we do when Easter is over and the rest of the liturgical year marches on? What will we do when all the sensational things give way to the sobriety and noble simplicity that most often marks the Holy Mass?

Let us begin today, Palm Sunday, and continually until Easter Sunday, to re-examine our Faith. We must not forget that all of the external rituals of our faith are not ends in and of themselves. We have them to remind us of the deeper spiritual realities that they signify. Religious sentiment and feeling are good and appropriate in response to these beautiful things for they often serve as invitations to more fully enter into our faith. But our experiences of these things must not stop at the level of feelings, for feelings come and go. We must consider the underlying spiritual effect that is taking place. Deep down what we are really longing for is something greater than ourselves. We are longing to know the Lord, to shout to him “Abba, Father!”(Mk 14:36); “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord… Hosanna in the highest!” (Mk 11:9-10)

We proclaim the same thing today that the Jews did centuries ago. The Jews of Jesus time, though, were only caught up with the spectacle of His triumphal entry into Jerusalem; they had not let Him enter into their hearts. Up to this point Jesus had been telling those he cured to remain silent. He had also been disappearing when the people would rise up to make him king. They wanted a Messiah who would rule with military might and free them from Roman occupation. But our Lord wanted to teach them that his kingdom is of heaven, not of earth, and he wishes to reign in hearts, not palaces.

This day, though, is different. He allows them to proclaim him as king to teach us to look for kingship not in one who is dominating and ambitious but in One who is humble and obedient. Therefore our Lord – who in his Divinity deserved to ride into Jerusalem upon a golden throne, with a team of chariots, on a path of fine tapestries and gold – rides instead on the poor throne of a donkey along a path of cloaks and palm braches. This he did to the shouts of “many people” (Mk 11:8), a “great crowd” (Jn 12:12): “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, the king of Israel” (Jn 12:13). But, then, only a few days later, this same group of Jews, riled up by the high priests, turns this acclamation into a death sentence, into a trumped-up charge of blasphemy (Navarre Bible, Mk 11:1-11). Pilate said to them, “what do you want me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?” They shouted, “Crucify him” (Mk 15:12-13).

It’s easy to shout with praise and acclamation to Jesus when everyone around us is shouting too. But when the leaders of our society disperse enough ill will, are we quick to condemn him? Do I preach Christ, and Him Crucified only when I am surrounded by attentive parishioners or brother priests? When I’m out with friends or on the annual family camping trip do I praise him still or am I tempted to speak otherwise?

How can we live differently today? You and I have to make sure that our faith doesn’t stop at the externals. If we live our lives no deeper than the surface level, then we are easily swayed by those who have the loudest voice. But when we allow the external signs of our faith to take us deeper then we come to know the truth of our faith and come to know Christ for who He really is. If we allow the grace of his Passion, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension, signified by so many beautiful rituals over these coming days – when we allow that grace to penetrate deeply into our hearts, deeper than our surface feelings, then Christ can begin to mold and transform us into Catholics who are always faithful, always at His right hand, even if we are the only ones standing up for Him, even when there is “darkness… over the whole land” (Mk 15:33).

Letter from Archbishop Kurtz on Informed Consent

ACTION ALERT

Please forward to your email groups and school communities.

March 28, 2012

Dear Pastoral Leader:

I am writing to ask that you take immediate action on a very important bill that has been amended in the state Senate and returned to the House for concurrence. House Bill 274 now contains the language of SB 102, an informed consent bill that the Catholic Conference of Kentucky has supported for many years.

Informed consent requires abortion providers to ensure that patients are fully informed about this procedure in a face-to-face meeting, as done for other surgical procedures. The current practice of using a recorded phone message is inadequate and does not allow the patient to ask questions about the procedure or about how the surgery might affect her based on her personal health history. There is evidence that a percentage of women who seek abortions, but who are fully informed, change their minds and bring the baby to term. For that reason I urge you to call House leaders as soon as possible.

PLEASE CALL 1-800-372-7181 as soon as you can and leave the following message for the five House Democratic leaders (i.e. Representatives Stumbo, Adkins, Clark, Thompson, and Damron):  

The Senate has returned HB 274 to you for concurrence after amending it with language that clarifies Kentucky's informed consent law. This language makes it clear that there is to be a face-to-face in-person meeting with a health care professional prior to an abortion. Please honor your pledge to my Bishop to get a bill like this to the House floor for a vote. Now is the time. Thank you!

Thank you so much for your time and your willingness to be a true faithful citizen in making this important call.

                                                                                                Sincerely yours in our Lord,

                                                                                                Most Reverend Joseph E. Kurtz

                                                                                                Archbishop of Louisville

Homily 5th Sun Lent Year B (3rd Scrutiny, Year A)–Raising of Lazarus

In the summer of 2008, I had one of the most difficult experiences of my entire formation to be a priest; I participated in a program at U of L Hospital called C.P.E. – Clinical Pastoral Education. This is an ecumenical program in which I worked as a hospital chaplain while learning how to be a more effective minister. Each of us in the group of different faiths, genders, and ages were assigned to visit the patients in a particular department of the hospital. We would then gather as a group to discuss and study our experiences.

My department was particularly difficult: Palliative Care – which is the care that one receives in order to manage pain or to aid in making end of life decisions. Most of the patients I visited were dying or near death, but I felt like it was a great honor to be with these patients in their greatest need. Perhaps what I appreciate the most, though, are the times I spent with patients who, while they were dying of a terrible cancer or intense pain, were comforting and praying for me, consoling me, and reassuring me. Shouldn’t I be taking care of them? What was it about these particular patients that enabled them to be so other-centered, so charitable, so loving, so peaceful? I saw a wide range of reactions to death that summer. I myself had a wide range of reactions! The Gospel from today’s Mass, of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, has helped me to understand better what I experienced during that summer almost four years ago.

In today’s Gospel reading and in many other places in Scripture, we can see that wherever Christ is present at significant events, he sanctifies the situation. One of the reasons we celebrate Matrimony as one of the Church’s seven sacraments is because Christ was present at the Wedding Feast of Cana, thus making it holy, grace-filled, and a sign of his love. One of the reasons we celebrate Baptism as a sacrament is because Jesus entered the waters of the Jordan River to be baptized by John even though he was without sin, thus making the waters of Baptism holy and able to wash away sins and give divine life.

And so today, on this 5^th Sunday of Lent, Jesus enters into our lives too, particularly our experiences of suffering and death, making them holy too, making them a mystery, and taking away the crude and narrow finality that we too often give them and replacing it with his presence. Even death, even times of great suffering, when Christ enters into them, can become times of his healing and divine life. What was a time of grief and confusion for Mary, Martha, and their friends and family, became an occasion of faith, hope, and love.

Because Jesus Christ was fully human, we can feel comfortable inviting him into any place, any circumstance, any struggle, any memory whatsoever. He was once like us, completely human, in every way except for our sinfulness. That humanity he still has in heaven, but in a glorified state, no longer affected by the limitations he once felt alongside us. He did feel them. He felt the full range of human emotion. The Gospel mentions that he wept in sympathy for Mary and Martha and for what Lazarus had to endure. He understands our lives and what we are going through. At the same time though He is fully God and so wherever he goes, wherever we welcome him, he brings the fullness of divinity and all that God has to offer.

To places of pain and suffering he brings new purpose, meaning, and value; he brings the Resurrection. He is the Resurrection. To places of happiness and success he brings a glimpse and a foretaste of eternal happiness with him in everlasting life. He is everlasting life. He wants to be for us, right here and now, Resurrection and Life. He wants to show us too, like he showed Martha and Mary, that death is not the end; it is simply the step, God-willing, to eternal life. He wants to give us a share in eternal life which grace brings to the soul even while we still live on earth. Mary and Martha have shown us how to enter into this type of relationship with Jesus Christ. “They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’” As Catholic Christians, I think we would do well to have these words always on the tip of our tongue in prayer: “Lord, come and see.”

To the students here: Whenever you get a good grade on a test, pray to him, “Lord, come and see” and he will share that joy with you and help you to know he is proud of you whenever you use the gifts he has given you well. What else can we invite the Lord to come and see today? What is it for you? Perhaps it is a childhood trauma that has affected you for years. Perhaps it is a relative or a friend who has driven you to your wit’s end. Perhaps it is a physical or psychological illness or the struggles of someone in your family.

Mary and Martha have taught us what power can come from the simple prayer of invitation, “Lord, come and see.” They have also taught us that when we run to the Lord without delay, with patience and humility, and without presumption, even though he may seem to delay he actually desires to exceed our expectations. He is not content to simply restore us to level zero. He wants to do that and so much more! He wants to restore us and then increase us! This may be hard to believe when the Lord doesn’t respond to our invitation when we want him to. If Jesus had come to Lazarus in two days rather than four then Lazarus could have been cured and would not have died. But, Jesus knew that raising Lazarus from death to life would have a more profound effect on his disciples’ faith than simply raising him from sickness to health.

“So then Jesus said to them clearly, ‘Lazarus has died. And I am glad for you that I was not there, that you may believe.’” Despite this though, when Martha came to Jesus she said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” not in order to complain to him or to ridicule him but because she actually believed that to be true. Her faith was so deep that she didn’t even ask him to raise her brother Lazarus from the dead. She abandoned herself to him, trusting that if he willed it he would do it. Jesus, moved by her faith and the sympathy he felt, did indeed raise Lazarus from the dead. He could have left it at that! But he also asked his disciples to unbind Lazarus after he had risen. Then he had a meal with Lazarus and his family!

One of the most profound ways Jesus is present to us, giving us peace and strength, is in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. St. Augustine saw the episode with Lazarus as an image of this sacrament. Whenever we sin, our spiritual lives can begin to die and we find ourselves in our own tomb of despair or isolation. The call to reconciliation that this Lenten season brings is like Jesus crying out to each one of us, “Lazarus, come out.” Through the words of absolution our sins are forgiven, we are given new life and emerge from the tomb. Then Jesus instructs the priest in the confessional, like he instructed the friends of Lazarus: “Untie him, and let him go.” We are released from the sins that bind us and are restored to full fellowship and communion with God and with the Church, our spiritual family.

All of this is offered to each one of us, individually, personally, during the remainder of this Lent and beyond. The prayer to the Lord to “come and see” and his call that we be unbound and “let go” – these are how a dying cancer patient can have more peace and strength than those sent to minister to her. When the Lord is present and we are set free, our happiness can be transformed from happiness that fades away to happiness the brings a taste of eternal life. And suffering and death are transformed from a meaningless pain or a senseless end, to experiences that give faith to others by the sheer power of what God can do in the heart of one who believes. He gives us the hope that with death life is changed, not ended.

Homily 4th Sun Lent Year B (2nd Scrutiny, Year A) - Man Born Blind

A couple of weeks ago, while many of the priests of the Archdiocese were on their annual retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani, I was on a retreat at St. Meinrad for recently ordained priests called, “Settling into Priesthood.” It was good to spend the week with young priests from the area, praying together, and sharing stories, experiences, thoughts, and feelings. There were also several speakers who addressed different topics in order to make sure we were starting off on the right foot.

At one point we were talking about which areas of ministry exceeded or came below our expectations and which areas still excited us or had become routine. One of the guys who had studied at the North American College, the American seminary in Rome, told an interesting story that stuck with me. He said that after studying in Rome for six years, he actually got to the point where he could walk past St. Peter’s Basilica, the largest Church in Western Christendom, and not give it one glance. His eyes were not open to the beauty of faith, they were only open to the cobblestone at his feet, to his next destination, to the next task to accomplish. For this reason it was always a blessing, he said, to be able to lead a tour through St. Peter’s for some pilgrims seeing the Basilica for the first time. Seeing their eyes, physically and spiritually, open wide with awe and wonder at the grandeur of St. Peter’s always opened his eyes in a new and fresh way to allow him to see again the tremendous blessing it is for him to live, move, and have his being in Jesus Christ in the Eternal City.

Today the Church invites us to have this type of experience ourselves as we celebrate the Second of a three-part ritual called “The Scrutinies” with our catechumens. As they move closer and closer to Baptism, Confirmation, and Holy Communion, and to continued study and reflection, they are called “The Elect” and move through the phase of Purification and Enlightenment.

This is a period of more intense spiritual preparation, consisting more in interior reflection than in catechetical instruction, and is intended to purify the minds and hearts of the elect as they search their own consciences and do penance. This period is intended as well to enlighten the minds and hearts of the elect with a deeper knowledge of Christ the Savior. The celebration of certain rituals, particularly the scrutinies, brings about this process of purification and enlightenment and extends it over the course of the entire Lenten season (RCIA 139). They are beginning to get excited as the joys of Easter draw near. We rejoice with them on this 4^th Sunday of Lent and we wear Rose vestments instead of Violet to give witness to the fact that the joys of Easter are indeed close at hand.

But how often have you and I been like that seminarian studying in Rome? Our eyes become closed and the great mysteries of our faith no longer impress on us wonder and awe, they become commonplace. Especially if we have been raised Catholic since infancy, we can easily let our eyes close to the grandeur of our faith so that it no longer impresses us. Today, let us look again through the eyes of The Elect and of the Candidates who will be received into full communion with the Church. Today, look at the many aspects of our faith through the eyes of someone who has never seen them before. Look at the holy water at the front of the Church and see your Baptism all over again. Remember the joy of your children’s Baptism! That water is a sacramental, it gives grace! Look at the statue of Mary at the entrance, at the Infant of Prague in the cry room, at the depiction of the Holy Family here in the sanctuary. We are surrounded by the Communion of Saints! Look at the red candle by the tabernacle, Christ is truly present among us! Look especially at the Host and the Chalice when they are elevated at the Consecration – BEHOLD THE LAMB OF GOD, behold him who takes away the sins of the world. These are things that our eyes should never become closed to.

After this homily we will celebrate the Second Scrutiny with the elect, but this is something that we can all benefit from. The scrutinies, solemn rituals reinforced by minor exorcisms, are rituals for self-searching and repentance and have above all a spiritual purpose. The scrutinies are meant to uncover, then heal all that is weak, defective, or sinful in the hearts of the elect – may our hearts be healed too. The scrutinies bring out, then strengthen all that is upright, strong, and good in the elect – may these be strengthened in us too. The scrutinies are celebrated in order to deliver the elect from the power of sin and Satan, to protect them against temptation, and to give them strength in Christ, who is the way, the truth, and the life. The rituals, therefore, should complete the conversion of the elect and deepen their resolve to hold fast to Christ and to carry out their decision to love God above all. God-willing, we too will be delivered from sin, protected, and strengthened for our own ongoing conversion (RCIA 141).

Their spirit is also filled with Christ the Redeemer, who is the living water – seen in last Sunday’s gospel of the Samaritan woman; the light of the world – seen in today’s gospel of the man born blind; and the resurrection and the life – seen in next Sunday’s gospel of Lazarus. From the first to the third scrutiny the elect – along with us – should progress in their perception of sin and their desire for salvation (RCIA 143).

The man born blind, in our Gospel today, had a heart that was open to God. Why else did he go, without hesitation, to wash his eyes in the Pool of Siloam at the command of our Lord? Why else did he perceive that the water that flowed every day into that pool since the 8^th c. BC would on this day be any different? Even Tobit whose eyesight was temporarily lost and later restored was not blind from birth. It was unheard of that anyone ever opened the eyes of a person born blind. Yet he did go and was healed. But the eyes of the Pharisees were closed to God and could not see the evidence before them (Ignatius Catholic Study Bible, Jn 9:32).

Our Lord enlivened the water and made it life-giving for the blind man. There is no reason this cannot happen for all of us too, in a deeply spiritual but no less real way. The gospel relates that the pool was of Siloam which means “Sent.” We have our own Pool of Siloam, our Baptismal font. Jesus Christ is the One Sent by the Father. He is the source of life-giving water. The eyes of the man born blind were anointed with clay. The elect will be anointed at their Baptism and Confirmation with the Oil of Catechumens and of Sacred Chrism. The man born blind washed in the pool and was given the gift of faith. They too will be washed in Baptism and infused with Faith, Hope, and Love. Just as Jesus became the light of the man born blind, so too our catechumens will be enlightened with grace and truth. When we gather at the Easter Vigil to behold these sacred mysteries, when we dip our fingers in the Holy Water and sign ourselves every Sunday after that, let us never fail to let these mysteries be relived in us and continually seen with the eyes of faith.

Homily 3rd Sun Lent Year B–The Body of Christ and the Dwelling Place of God

Jesus does not come to destroy the temple, but to fulfill it - to reveal its true purpose in God’s saving plan.

He is the Lord the prophets said would come - to purify the temple, banish the merchants, and make it a house of prayer for all peoples.

The God who made the heavens and the earth, who brought Israel out of slavery, does not dwell in sanctuaries made by human hands.

Nor does He need offerings of oxen, sheep, or doves.

Notice in today’s First Reading that God did not originally command animal sacrifices - only that Israel heed His commandments.

His law was a gift of divine wisdom, as we sing in today’s Psalm. It was a law of love, perfectly expressed in Christ’s self-offering on the cross.

This is the “sign” Jesus offers in the Gospel today - the sign that caused Jewish leaders to stumble, as Paul tells us in the Epistle.

Jesus’ body - destroyed on the cross and raised up three days later - is the new and true sanctuary. From the temple of His body, rivers of living water flow, the Spirit of grace that makes each of us a temple, and together builds us into a dwelling place of God.

In the Eucharist we participate in His offering of His body and blood. This is the worship in Spirit and in truth that the Father desires.

We are to offer praise as our sacrifice. This means imitating Christ - offering our bodies - all our intentions and actions in every circumstance, for the love of God and the love of others.

Notes from St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology

Letter to the Editor, The Record, Mar 15, 2012: Jesus the New Adam in the Mass

To The Editor:

In the Jan 12 edition of The Record, I was disappointed to read the response given in the “Question Corner” to the concern about inconsistent inclusiveness in the Gloria and the Creed at Mass.

We say in the Gloria, “Peace to people of good will,” yet we say in the Creed, “For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven.”  I would like to comment on the decisions made by the translators.

In the Gloria, “people” is the well-known and close translation of the inclusive, Latin word, hominibus, as the 2001 document on translation, Liturgiam Authenticam, recommends (see no. 56).

In the Creed, homines, also an inclusive word, is translated “men,” reminiscent of the once-common and inclusive term, “mankind.”  Because few use “men” inclusively anymore, Father Doyle says that the translators should have “bowed to that reality and used the generic phrasing,” like “people,” for example.

Liturgiam Authenticam cautions, though, that the liturgical texts “should be free of an overly servile adherence to prevailing modes of expression,” thus freeing the liturgy “from the necessity of frequent revisions when modes of expression may have passed out of popular usage” (no. 27).

The use of “man” in the Creed recalls important theological and anthropological correlations between Jesus and Adam, the first man, whose original sin and the resulting tendency toward sin is passed on to all of the “sons of man.”

Jesus Christ, the New Man, the Son of Man, “came down from heaven” in order to save us from sin and draw all of us, men and women, into a participation in his own sonship in the life of the Trinity.

Father Doyle, in order to be more inclusive, excludes these important correlations when he recommends saying, “for us – (pause) – and for our salvation” at Mass.  I do not think this is a valid choice.

With the above reasons, let us remember the caution from Vatican II’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium: “No other person [than the bishop(s)], not even a priest, may add, remove, or change anything in the liturgy on his own authority” (para. 22).  This is because the Mass is not our creation; it is a gift from God and his work.

Father Matthew Hardesty
Elizabethtown, KY

Homily 2nd Sun Lent Year B–Mountain-Top Experiences

Last weekend, I had the opportunity to participate in a program called Engaged Encounter at Mt. St. Francis in southern Indiana.  Engaged Encounter is a weekend retreat for young engaged couples in the area to come together and focus on preparing well for a holy Catholic marriage.  I led the retreat along with one married couple in their 30’s and another in their 40’s.  We gave several talks that weekend intended to open up communication at a deep level on topics that they may not have considered.

One of the talks we gave was on how to accurately interpret highs and lows in marriage.  Some let the good times distract them from real problems that need to be addressed.  A more mature approach is to let these times built you up so that you are sustained through the rough times.  On the other hand, some let the bad times cause them to doubt the covenant they entered into rather than approaching them as opportunities for purification that can make the relationship even stronger.

Our readings today have given us three profound highs – or mountain top experiences – that we all can use to sustain us in the valleys of our own lives.  The Holy Spirit gathers us and leads us up these mountains together.

The first mountain we ascend together today is Mount Moriah from the first reading. Here we behold a scandalous episode indeed! How could God ask Abraham to sacrifice his only son?! This doesn’t seem like the God we know, the God who has said that burnt offerings from us he would refuse. Our sacrifice, he has told us, must be a contrite spirit for a humbled and contrite heart he will not spurn. And besides, Abraham’s son Isaac is the key to the covenant that God made with Abraham. God promised Abraham that he and his wife Sarah, despite their old age, would become fertile and would bear a son, Isaac. And it was through Isaac that Abraham would be the father of many nations, of peoples as numerous as the stars. These are the people of Israel, God’s chosen people, a people set apart to be an example to all mankind that God alone is our God and we are his children. From the people of Israel, our elder brothers and sisters, we have inherited this covenant and Abraham is our father in faith. For him to sacrifice his only son, his beloved son, would dissolve all of this!

Abraham was aware of what was at stake but his faith in the Lord was rock-solid. He no doubt trusted that God would find a way to keep his promise. Abraham’s only concern was fidelity to God’s command: to sacrifice Isaac, his only son, his beloved son.  So Abraham ascends the mountain with Isaac, with his only son carrying the wood for the sacrifice, and builds an altar on which to accomplish it. He then places his son on the wood and as he takes his knife to slaughter Isaac, an angel of the Lord stays Abraham’s hand. He assures Abraham that his intention, his devotion, his obedience, his willingness to do even this is as good as if he had done it. Then the Lord provides a ram, caught by its horns in the thicket, to take Isaac’s place.

But what is the Holy Spirit trying to teach us by putting before us such a chilling account? I believe it is this: that even in the midst of unthinkable sacrifice, when our circumstances in life make demands on us that seem unbearable, God is always by our side, watching and waiting to help us and to bless us abundantly. But, we must be obedient to him, trust him, and have unwavering faith in him. Unlike Abraham, we may not be called to make heroic acts of faith in God. But, like Abraham, it is not what we accomplish that matters, only that we act with a pure heart. God judges not the results of our works but the intention of our hearts. In our hearts he sees our devotion. So, for example, when we suffer injury and illness with a heart of patience and humility, he is there. When we spend long, agonizing hours at the bedside of a dying loved one with a heart of commitment and love, he is there. When we strive during Lent to uproot our vices and sins so that our hearts are open and free, he will bless us abundantly and give us not descendants but graces as numerous as the stars.

Our second reading points us to the second mountain we must climb today: Mount Calvary. Here God the Father himself, as St. Paul tells us, “did not spare his own Son, but handed him over for us all.” Here too we behold an Only Son, a Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, ascending a mountain of sacrifice to God, submitting to his Father’s will, carrying the wood along the Way. He too was placed on the wood, but for him the nails and the knife of the soldier’s lance were not held back. For him there was no ram caught in a thicket. He himself was the ram, suspended from the thicket of the cross, to take the place not of one, but of all mankind.

Faced with this parallel, St. Paul asks us, “If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but handed him over for us all, how will he not also give us everything else along with him?” Even on Mount Calvary we are again assured of God’s constant love and help, for He was raised and not sits at the right hand of the Father interceding for us. We must never doubt the lengths that God has gone and will go to help and save us. No scene in our lives – not even divorce, separation, abuse, violence, sin or death – no scene is darker than the scene the only beloved Son of the Father has already entered and overcome.

Finally now, we climb our third and final mountain, Mount Tabor of our Gospel reading. Here we find Jesus with his three favorite apostles: Peter, James, and John, his inner circle. Six days before this episode, Jesus taught them that he must soon suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes; be killed; and after three days rise again. Furthermore, “If any man would come after me,” Jesus said, “let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” This was unthinkable to Peter, how could the long-awaited Messiah suffer and die? Jesus rebuked Peter for thinking this way but out of his great love and generosity takes him along with James and John, on the seventh day, to Mount Tabor to strengthen them. There, he showed them and us that God never abandons us even in our deepest despair or confusion. He appeared transfigured before them, along with Elijah and Moses, and his garments were glistening and intensely white. He allowed his glory to shine forth, the glory that is rightfully his as the Divine Son of God, the glory he set aside in order to be like us. This he did in order to encourage his apostles and us to follow the difficult way that leads to our own glorification.

When our Mass is finished today we will be sent to “Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.” We will descend the mountains of Moriah, Calvary, and Tabor and return to the valleys of our everyday lives, our schools, our homes, our workplaces. We will return to our Lenten penances and sacrifices and good works. We may even be returning to much suffering and pain. But let us not forget the mountains we have climbed today and what we witnessed at the top of each one. The God who stayed Abraham’s hand and provided for him on Mount Moriah is the same God who provides for us today. The God who loved us so much that he allowed his only Son to die on Mount Calvary on behalf of all mankind, is the same God who loves us today. The God who strengthened the apostles by allowing them to behold the glory of his Divine Son, is the same God who strengthens us today. Let us be faithful and obedient to Him with the hope that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom 8:18) at our coming Easter.

Homily 6th Sun OT Year B–Contraception, Why Not?

A couple of weeks ago, I preached about the prophetic nature of marriage, about how marriage itself preaches the good news of Christ’s love for the Church and of eternal union with God in heaven. During the announcements I read the letter from Archbishop Kurtz about the mandate from the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS). In addition to marriage being roundly attacked in our society, so too is our religious freedom. The Archbishop’s letter pointed out the troubling moral implications of religious organizations being forced to provide insurance coverage for contraception, sterilization, and abortion-inducing drugs – a mandate that tramples on the freedom of conscience and the teachings of the Church. Despite a recent development in the Administration’s policy, it isn’t over yet.

Last week I preached about the healing power of God’s Word and I proudly proclaimed with St. Paul to the Corinthians: “If I preach the gospel, this is no reason for me to boast, for an obligation has been imposed on me, and woe to me if I do not preach it.” I have combined that line in my heart with what Paul writes to the Corinthians today: “Avoid giving offense… not seeking my own benefit but that of the many, that they may be saved.” These verses have inspired me not to wade out of the waters of controversy just yet. There are still difficult moral questions to be addressed before I can feel like I have adequately provided spiritual leadership to you. I was ordained a priest on May 28^th to teach, to sanctify, and to govern God’s people, not to shy away when wolves in sheep’s clothing threaten their safety.

On Friday, the Administration announced that now, rather than forcing religious employers to directly pay for insurance coverage that included contraception, sterilization, and abortifacients, it will be the insurance companies that will directly offer these free to women and will reach out to them separately to provide them.

This so-called “accommodation” is still morally troubling. What about religious employers who self-insure? EWTN, the popular Catholic network, is the largest Christian media network in the world – it self-insures. What about the conscience rights of for-profit employers? They’re being forced to deny their consciences as well. You can read the Archbishop’s latest response on archlou.org at another time. Today I want to address the big elephant in the room.

Our first reading from Leviticus explained the law concerning those in the society with leprosy. They were exiled to a shameful lot outside of the community, declared unclean for worship, made to give humiliating warnings to those who come too close. But the prophets foretold that the Messiah will one day come and we will know him by his ability to heal this terrible plague and restore lepers to the community. In the gospel a leper, out of great humility and trust in the Lord, throws himself at Jesus’ feet pleading, “If you wish, you can make me clean.” Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, touched him and said to him, “I do will it. Be made clean.”

In our society today, a leprosy still plagues God’s people. It is not a “scab or pustule or blotch” on the skin though, as Leviticus describes it. It is, rather, a scab on the heart. No bodies have been quarantined, but hearts have certainly been separated. I’m talking about the leprosy of the sin of contraception. Contraception, is the big elephant in the room, the sin getting everyone’s attention but that no one wants to talk about. We’ve certainly heard a lot about it in the media’s coverage of the mandate from HHS. Every time religious objection to the mandate is reported, the media is quick to say that 99 percent of all women use contraception and 80% of Catholics are contracepting. But, they forget, that the truth isn’t determined by popular vote – the truth is true outside of the number of those who believe it.

I know there are bigger fish to fry: religious liberty, the first amendment of the Constitution, and the very framework of our nation, made up mostly by religious institutions. But the spotlight is being shined on contraception in a big way and its making Catholics sheepishly scratch their heads and say, “Oh… yeah… that’s a problem, isn’t it.” If 80% of the nation’s Catholics are contracepting, can we narrow that down to 80% of Catholics at Mass here today? Don’t worry, I don’t need a show of hands! But what kind of priest would I be if 80% of my people carried this modern leprosy on their hearts and I didn’t stretch out my own hand to them? Trust me, it’s not easy for me to stand up here and talk about a sin that won’t necessarily win me any popularity points. But I don’t want the Good Shepherd, on the day of my particular judgment, to say to me, “80% of my sheep were led astray and you did nothing to save them.”

The truth is, contraception is intrinsically immoral; it is a mortal sin, a sin that doesn’t merely wound but severs our personal integrity, our relationships with each other, and our relationship with God. It is not confessed enough.

There are many troubling effects of contraception. Studies link its widespread use since the 1960’s to increased prevalence of societal dysfunction, abortion, single parenthood, sexually transmitted diseases, unwed pregnancy, poverty, and divorce. But the Church teaches against it primarily because it violates the goods of marriage. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states that marriage “is by its nature ordered toward the good of the spouses and the procreation of offspring” (CCC, 1601).[1] Contraception thwarts God’s will and intention for marriage and the very design of the human body. It is indeed a serious sin.

The popular mindset is articulated well by the president when he speaks about contraception. He refers to “contraceptive services” and “contraceptive care” as part of “preventive services.” The healthy and natural functioning of the human body, including its reproductive function, is a great good. Indeed, precisely because the human person is of such inestimable value, the sources of the human person – the fertility of both men and women – also have great value. But, contraception divorces human sexuality from procreation and leads one to regard fertility as a disease. The ability of spouses to become cooperators with God in the creation of new human life is itself of inestimable value and not some physiological nuisance.[2]

Janet Smith, a professor at Sacred Heart Seminary in Detroit has a talk on CD called “Contraception, Why Not?” that has distributed over a million copies. You can find the transcript free online. She beautifully explains this issue. “Barriers are not appropriate between those who love each other,” she says. Our bodies speak a certain language. A husband and wife should say to each other, in their sexuality, “I give to you all that I am and all that I have, even my fertility. I am willing to be a parent with you.” And those are statements that promise a lifetime commitment because children help to reinforce that commitment. “Sexual intercourse is meant to express and solidify this comment to lifetime union that a couple has already made through their marriage vows. Indeed a child is a living monument to the union… Sexual acts that are open to children express more fully the lifetime commitment that marriage is.” But couples who put up a barrier between them are “saying” with their bodies “I only want from you a momentary union of pleasure.”[3] Just as the decision to marry IS a decision to be open to the miracle of children, so to the decision to have sex IS a decision to be open to the miracle of children – they are one and the same decision, not two separate ones.

Most married couples have “spoken the language” of contraception. Most used contraception before they were married. Once married, they stop it momentary to have a child and then contracept again. They may stop again to have a second child and then become sterilized. They say to each other, “your fertility is a pox on this house.” The fact that some contraceptives end up killing the embryonic human being makes this “language” all the more abusive. Now, I realize, that some women take the synthetic hormones that are in the pill to treat hormonal disorders, endometriosis, or ovarian cysts that themselves can cause infertility. In these cases, infertility is the unintended and indirect effect of a treatment and so use of the hormones is then not a sin. But, nowadays there are very few occasions in which infertility causing drugs are the single, solitary treatment for these problems.

In marriage, Natural Family Planning is the better way. Contracepting couples make themselves infertile; NFP couples work with the natural periods of infertility in a woman’s body. Contraception treats fertility as a defect; NFP treats fertility as a gift to be treasured though perhaps not always opened. Contracepting couples do not give fully of themselves in their sexuality; couples using NFP give all that they have to give during the times of infertility. Furthermore, NFP costs nothing, is as effective as birth control, enhances marriage, improves the sex life, increases intimacy, and improves communication. And couples using NFP almost never divorce, unlike 50% of the rest of the population.[4]

To the young adults here today: don’t buy the lie of contraception, don’t fall into its trap. Don’t trivialize sex now and ruin it for yourself later. For the sake of your future marriage, stay away from it. To those already married, come to the Lord in humility and trust in the sacrament of Reconciliation. He does will it, to cleanse you of this modern leprosy, so you can start again.

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[1] Janet E. Smith and Christopher Kaczor, Life Issues, Medical Choices: Questions and Answers for Catholics, p. 78
[2] Ibid, p. 78
[3] Ibid., p. 79
[4] Ibid., p. 82

Homily 5th Sun OT Year B – The Healing Power of the Word of God

It can be tempting at times, especially given the state of our economy and other pressures, to live life according to the despair of Job rather than according to the hope of Jesus Christ, the Gospel of Life. “Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery? Are not his days those of hirelings?” Job asks with despair. We strive to grow in holiness only to fall to sin time and time again. We work so hard, day in and day out for money to support our families, only to have it taken from us. We raise our children the best way we can only to see them leave the faith. We exercise and eat healthy foods only to be stricken with a debilitating disease. Even our nights provide no rest. “The night drags on,” Job laments, “I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.” Surrounded by sin and death we are tempted to utter again with Job “I shall not see happiness again.” What’s the use?

If you have uttered these words before, let me tell you that there is indeed hope; that you will see happiness again, even in this life, for happiness is your destiny, the very thing for which you were created. This happiness can be found in the Word of God, Jesus Christ the Lord. And perfect happiness can be found in Eternity with Him.

Notice how our readings today bring together the trials and sufferings of life with the preaching of the Word of God. We have in the same Mass the despairing cries of Job alongside St. Paul’s zeal for preaching. And we find Our Lord “preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee.” Why are suffering and preaching brought together? I think this is to remind us that the Word of God is inextricably linked to every aspect of the healing ministry of the Church, physical and spiritual, as she seeks to alleviate suffering in the world. There is much wisdom in this; we must not take it for granted.

With all of the Church’s sacraments and sacramentals of healing, both those celebrated within Mass and outside of Mass, readings from Scripture are there. In the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick, readings from Scripture are there. In Visits to the Sick, Communion of the Sick, celebrations of Viaticum, and Commendation of the Dying, readings from Scripture are there. In Baptism and even in the beginning of the Sacrament of Reconciliation – when the greatest sickness of all, sin, is healed – the priest is encouraged to read some passages from Scripture. It is unfortunate that this isn’t the common practice. The Church, you see, is not a haven for the perfect and healthy; it is a hospital for sinners. Our Lord is the Divine Physician and His Word is our medicine for everlasting life. After all, the word “doctor” comes from the Latin word docere, which means “to teach.” And in our Responsorial Psalm – one of the readings or “teachings” of the Word of God – we sang, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

Remembering then how necessarily linked the Word of God is with both physical and spiritual healing, we are given both a consolation and a challenge. How often, when we suffer, do we look to everything but the Word of God for happiness or relief? In a world that has no tolerance for suffering and refuses to find meaning and redemption in it, we are tempted to turn to Christ, if we turn to Him at all, only when all other avenues have been exhausted. We try all the latest medications and remedies. Or we medicate ourselves through impulsive buying or thrill-seeking or lustful passions or by being in denial. St. Paul captures beautifully in our Gospel the universal longing that is at the root of all of these: “Rising very early before dawn, [Jesus] left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed. Simon and those who were with him pursued him and on finding him said, ‘Everyone is looking for you.’”

We seek happiness and relief from our suffering in a myriad of ways but, deep down inside, “Everyone is looking for [Jesus].” Although in the midst of our trials, our Lord may seem to be “off to a deserted place” he is always very near. Let’s not wait until we hit rock-bottom to turn to Him. When we are tempted to look to worldly things to find what only He can provide, we must remember that he truly is found in His Eternal Word, especially in the Gospel proclaimed at Mass. He really can satisfy the desires we have. This is our consolation and challenge.

Perhaps you yourself are suffering even as you sit here today. Or perhaps a friend or a relative or a coworker you know is suffering today. St. Paul challenges us with full zeal and piety: “If I preach the gospel,” he says, “this is not reason for me to boast, for an obligation has been imposed on me, and woe to me if I do not preach it!” Woe to us as well if you or I fail to preach the Good News to those who are sick in body or soul; if we fail to proclaim the truth of Christ’s redemptive suffering and his many healing miracles; if we fail to give the sick this greatest of medicines: His Word.

The power of His Word inspires us not to wait to call a priest to anoint our loved ones only at their final moment, as we used to do. No, the power of God’s Word impels us to call for the priest to preach the Good News of God’s Anointing as soon as we begin to be in danger. Why would we want to delay the giving of so precious a gift? And Why should we be afraid to see the priest when he comes? He’s not the grim reaper. He is Jesus Christ bringing the grace of strength, humility, perseverance, and healing. This is the challenge from St. Mark. He says that the apostles “immediately told [Jesus]” about Simon’s mother-in-law who lay sick with a fever. We must not hesitate to tell our Lord in prayer about our own trials or those of our relatives and friends.

We see that upon hearing their petition “[Jesus] approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up. Then the fever left her and she waited on them.” Furthermore, St. Mark continues, “When it was evening, after sunset, they brought to him all who were ill or possessed by demons.” Perhaps you, or someone you know, are looking in all the wrong places for the comfort we can only find in Jesus. Perhaps you, or someone you know, are possessed by the demons of addiction or despair. Today is the day to resolve, if you have not yet done so, to gently take them by the hand and bring them to Jesus. If you have already begun this journey, resolve to persevere for our Lord himself said he wishes to come to us, to “preach there also.” We need only to “gather at the door” of His Word.