Sunday, September 22, 2024

What Detachment is and how to gain it (Sunday homily)

 This homily is going to be all about one concept, one virtue.

That is something called “detachment.”


What do I mean by “detachment”?


I mean that freedom that comes from 

not being overly concerned with stuff, 

or with pleasure, or food, or success, 

or with the opinions of other people, or with having our own way.

Or with the way the world goes on around us.


In the second reading, St. James tells us: 

you have conflict because of your passions, because of greed and envy.

You want things too much, or in the wrong way.


Detachment is learning to dial down those passions and wants.

Detachment doesn’t mean we don’t care or that we are passive.

It means accepting our limits and finding peace.


In the Gospel, Jesus confronts the Apostles 

over their longing for importance, for being admired and respected.

He puts a child in front of them and says, 

learn how to slow down and pay attention to a child. 

That takes great patience and a certain lowliness.


Detachment means freedom. What you own, owns you.

What do we say when someone is married, has a family, 

and builds a business? That she is “tied down.” 


Detachment is being free of these things.

That freedom means the ability to say “yes” 

where otherwise the answer would be “no.”

“Yes” to others; “yes” to opportunities for ourselves. “Yes” to God.

This is a reason why young people are more likely 

to drop everything and go off on adventures and missions.

So much less to lose. They aren’t tied down yet.

Have you never gotten that faraway look, longing to be young at heart, 

Wishing you could have that carefree mindset once more?


So, how do we gain this virtue of detachment?

Well, there are several ways it happens.


One path is that of suffering. Pain. Crisis. Loss.

Many of us have been there: 

nothing can so narrow our sense of what truly matters, 

as when we are in trouble, or someone we love is.

Another path is that of voluntary self-denial and penance.


You and I do this for six weeks of Lent. 

That’s the reason we give up things like 

candy and beer and video games. 

So that we don’t love them too much.


But this isn’t just for Lent.

Every Friday is supposed to be a day of penance. 

For Christians, penance is a feature of everyday life.

That’s what our parents meant by “offer it up.”

And, parents, I know you live this, 

when you rarely get a hot meal or a full night’s sleep. 


Underneath all this is something else, and that is grace.

Grace is the help God gives us – in uncountable, constant ways – 

to help us grow in holiness, to help us become like him.

To become a saint, which is what God has planned for each of us.



Bishop Binzer told me something once I never forgot, 

and I have found to be good advice:

Be grateful for those people who cause you problems, 

because they are helping you get to heaven.


You and I never really know why the path for us is what it is,

but by God’s grace, you and I find grace on that path.

That grace helps us become free, 

so we can enjoy – but not be possessed by – 

the good things of this life.


That frees our hands to reach for that one Prize that matters:

Jesus Christ and the life he offers.

Sunday, September 15, 2024

You don't want a Christ without the Cross

In the Gospel, Peter is offended 

by the idea of the Messiah going to the cross. 


But then, isn’t what Peter says just what we might say?

If someone says to us, “I’ve got a terrible path ahead of me,”

wouldn’t we say, “God forbid! No such thing shall ever happen to you”?


And yet Jesus whips around and says, 

“Get behind me, Satan!” 

He’s not rejecting Peter; but he is warning him 

of how misled, and ultimately fruitless, his thinking is. 


And notice, Jesus doesn’t say get away from me, 

but rather, “get behind me”—

he still wanted Peter with him, but not as a roadblock.


How does this apply to us?


Well, I think about how some people respond when someone says, 

“I am thinking about being a priest,” or entering religious life.”

And parents and grandparents will say, oh no, that will be too hard; 

you’ll be lonely, you won’t make much money. 


They try to talk their children out of it, too much of the cross.


I have known great joy as a priest.

But if anyone wants an easy path, don’t be a priest;

we do NOT need any priests who want an easy path. Not even one.


To be a priest is to unite yourself with Jesus the High Priest, 

and his priesthood is the Cross.

The joy I have as a priest is seeing how life is born from the Cross.

I get to see that in people’s lives every single day.


Next Jesus then goes on to say – to everyone –

Whoever comes after me must take up his cross and follow me. 

“Whoever”! That’s every single one of us.


Parents, I want you to know what our school 

and our religious education and youth programs

are telling our boys and girls:

To be a Christian man or woman 

isn’t to run away from the Cross, but to face it. 


That’s where virtue happens. That’s how we become saints.

This is a good time to talk about a part of our Faith 

that is most misunderstood, and most widely disregarded, 

and yet I think it will prove, in years to come, 

to be the most prophetic. 


I mean our teaching – 

which goes back to the beginning of Christianity, by the way – 

That marital love always being open to life,

Which is what Natural Family Planning safeguards.





Of course being a parent is a sacrifice. 

So many of you bear witness to this every day;

and I will always remember the sacrifices my parents made, 

which I had to reach adulthood to understand fully. 


But to me, that only proves the truth of this teaching.

Notice, it puts the cross right at the center of marriage. 

How can a home and a family be Christian, 

without the Cross right at the center? 


Let’s go back to Jesus’ words: 

You and I can’t be his disciple without the Cross.

As much as each of us might like such a plan, it simply won’t work.


Bishop Fulton Sheen once explained powerfully 

what happens when you separate the Christ and the Cross.


If you try to have Christ without the Cross, 

you end up with cheap sentimentality. 


This is the Jesus so many say they admire – “oh, isn’t he nice!”

But why would you give your life for Hallmark Card pieties?


Then Sheen talked about the alternative: a cross without Jesus.

In his time, Bishop Sheen cited communism, 

But it could be any number of “isms” and movements

that invite people to discipline, self-denial 

and dedication to something greater than oneself. 


In our comfort-rich but meaning-impoverished culture, 

this is attractive.


The trouble, as Sheen said, 

is that the Cross without Christ is authoritarian and cruel; 

conversion without love and forgiveness only means conformity. 


There is death but no resurrection.


Wednesday the anniversary of 9-11,

When followers of a Cross-without-Christ 

flew those planes into the Towers,  

Demanding that the world be purified.


A Christ-without-the-Cross looks on in horror, but does nothing. 

But those who ran into the fire showed us: 

no one has greater love than this: to lay down ones life for another.


There are lots of reasons to recoil from the Cross as Peter did.

But there is no other way to true life.


Sunday, September 01, 2024

Why rules? (Sunday homily)

Let’s talk about rules – because the readings talk about rules.


A lot of people think that being a Catholic is all about rules.

That’s a knock on us from outside. 

It’s what some Catholics themselves say when they complain.

People fault parish priests and the bishops for “too many rules.”


But here’s something that may surprise you.

That’s not actually what I or most parish priests 

or bishops are leading with.


People frequently will say, “Is such-and-such a sin?”

When I answer, I always try to explain the issue, 

so that people can know better how to answer the question themselves.

And it strikes me how often people don’t have patience for that.


Remember, this is why God gave each of us a conscience; 

and for each of us, our job is to inform our conscience 

by learning our faith — that goes beyond “just the rules.”


So, let me give you an example, and offer some guidance to help you:

People often ask, “I don’t know whether something is a mortal sin.”


Here’s how you know the answer to that.


According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 1857, 

For a sin to be mortal, three conditions must together be met. 

The object must be “grave matter,” and the sin is also committed 

with full knowledge and deliberate consent."

Notice those three terms. Let’s examine them.


“Grave matter.” Grave means serious, or great; 

that is, the damage the sin causes is serious or great damage.


So: stealing a pad of paper from work may not do grave harm; 

stealing a computer probably does. 

And, just to be super-clear: stealing anything at all is wrong. 

A venial sin is still a sin that damages our love for God and others.


“Full knowledge” means you know clearly that what you did is wrong, 

and how wrong it is. 


So, if you say, “I don’t know if X is a sin” there it is: 

a lack of full knowledge. And that calls for someone to learn more.


And then consent must be “deliberate,” meaning, not impulsive, 

and not under pressure or when you’re at a real low point.


I’m explaining this because what’s important is not just following rules, 

but knowing why we have rules.


Everyone gets to a point — probably every week – 

where we complain about a rule. Rules may not always be fair.

I am absolutely certain I could write better tax laws!

But then, everyone here has the same certainty, right?


My family and your family, every family, has rules – because we have to.

Same for a parish; same for a company; same for a community.

So, we can form some conclusions: rules, like it or not, are needed.

But rules are never for their own sake.

The late Father Mike Seger taught us in the seminary, 

and he said something simple and profound:

“Rules exist to protect values.”

If you can’t figure out why there is a rule, ask:

What value is this rule protecting?


Maybe – as our Lord makes clear in the Gospel –

The rule isn’t working anymore, and we change it.


Or, maybe we rediscover the value that we’ve lost sight of.


Jesus is challenging not just the pharisees, but every one of us:

Are you and I just checking boxes?

“I showed up on time.” “I filled out the right paperwork.” 

“I got right to the line but didn’t cross it.”


I’m sure we’ve all played a game before: 

softball or basketball or a card game like Euchre. 

And all games have rules.


But the rules aren’t the point. The rules make the game possible.

The game itself is the point.


So with our faith…what is the point? Have we forgotten?

To know God and to allow him to bring us into union with him.

The point is to let his grace fill us and change us: 

not just for a good show on the surface, but all the way through.

If it’s only following rules, that means we’ll end up being good robots.

Is that what you want to be for eternity?


But if the point is to become holy, to become truly loving 

and truly generous and truly just and truly merciful,

Then that means for us, heaven is simply being happy 

being the saints God has made us. 


Which sounds better: being a robot, or being happy?