Overcoming discouragement (Sunday homily)

 There’s a word for what is happening in all the readings; 

what is happening for Elijah, for Saint Paul, and for Saint Peter. 

That word is discouragement.

And there is a word for what cures it. And that is joy. 

In the first reading, Elijah has fled to the mountain 

because he is discouraged. He tried to spark revival of faith, 

and the queen seeks to kill him. He feels very alone and overwhelmed.

In the second reading, Paul is “in anguish” for his fellow Jews 

who have resisted the message of Jesus Christ.

Peter, in the Gospel, is disheartened by the storm raging around him, 

and he begins to sink.

Meanwhile, there are trends that trouble us all.

So many of us face the same discouragement Elijah and Paul did.

You and I see members of our families, 

people who were once active in the Faith, drifting away.

We see ways our nation is heading in the wrong direction.

If you want to be discouraged, there are plenty of opportunities.

But there is always a choice.

Sometimes people give into fatalism, saying, 

“There’s nothing we can do!” 

Believe me, I’ve felt it too; yet you and I must remind ourselves:

If we truly believe in God, there is no room for fatalism.

Instead, you and I must seek that which Elijah needed to renew, 

and what Peter lost sight of. And that is joy.

I was inspired by reading the words of Charles Chaput, 

the former Archbishop of Philadelphia, who said, 

while Christians need to see the world’s problems as they are, 

“we can’t let the weight of the world crush the joy 

that is our birthright 

by our rebirth in Jesus Christ through baptism,” he said.

So, what is joy? Well, it isn’t simply happiness, 

because we can know joy even in times of great suffering. 

Let me give you an example that may surprise you.

I knew an older couple in Piqua, married over 60 years. 

The wife became ill, and got worse and worse; 

and I was called to visit her in the hospital. 

When I entered that small hospital room, it was packed – 

maybe 20 people or more. 

Everyone was praying, centered on their mother and grandmother, 

in bed, with her husband sitting by her, holding her hand. 

She was leading the prayers. 

Then came a moment when she couldn’t speak, 

but her husband kept praying. 

Then, he finally stopped. We all knew she was gone.

And he broke the silence with these words: 

“I’m heart-broken, but I’m joyful.”

Death was all too real, 

but something else is infinitely more real, 

and that is Jesus Christ, and that is hope, and that is joy!

That man knew he would see his wife again;

He was drawing on the reservoir of faith they had shared;

He looked forward to experiencing the fullest joy from its source,

Which is Jesus Christ, whom his wife went to meet first.

So we might ask, what steals our joy? Many things, 

including discouragement, resentment, 

and worry about the cares of the world.

Some of us pay too much attention to the news and the Internet. 

It’s just like what happened to Peter: we see the waves crashing 

and the wind howling, and we start to sink.

But it wasn’t the storm that sunk Peter; 

it was looking away from Jesus.

So if stormy news on TV or the Internet gets you anxious, 

there is a simple solution: Turn it off!

Our inflated ego tells us, “oh, I need to know!”

But mostly that’s not true. 

We might need 5 minutes of news, not 5 hours. 

Put down that phone and pick up a Rosary.

You’ll hear that quiet whisper Elijah heard in the silence.

Stop staring at the screen and look instead at another human face. 

Human relationships are messy, 

but they are also where real love happens; and those relationships 

are the only possession we can enjoy for eternity. 

The choice is yours: tremble at the storm or fix your gaze on Jesus.

When he is our focus, 

what will shine in our face is the light of heaven, pure joy, 

and people will see that and will want to know where it comes from.

They will want what you and I have.

Peace, even in hell (Sunday homily)

 Father Miguel Augustin Pro, executed in Mexico City, Nov. 13, 1927. Image from: https://catholicnovenaapp.com/

All the Scriptures we heard are very inviting:

Come and rest; come and eat and drink.

It’s all very inviting, isn’t it?

In the second reading,

St. Paul gives us every reason not to worry.

And yet, we worry all the same, don’t we?

Isaiah asks, “Why spend your money for what is not bread,

your wages for what does not satisfy?”

We still do that, don’t we?

All this raises the question:

How do you and I learn to have that calm, that peace,

No matter what our circumstances may be?

Yes, that truly is possible: in any circumstance!

Many of our parishioners were just in Mexico on pilgrimage.

They visited the tomb of one of the many martyrs from a century ago, 

when Catholics in Mexico faced terrible trials.

They were hunted, arrested and killed by the thousands.

Led before firing squads,

Do you know what the Mexican Catholics said as they died?

Viva Christo Rey! “Christ the King LIVES!”

Did those martyrs lose everything? Or did they gain everything?

The amazing story of Francis Xavier Nguyễn Văn Thuận, 

who was Archbishop of Saigon, comes to mind.

When the communists conquered South Vietnam in 1975, 

he was imprisoned for 13 years. 

Archbishop Van Thuan managed to hide away, in his cell,

a stash of wine and altar bread. 

He offered Mass from memory – he had no Missal.

The archbishop would use just a few crumbs of bread,

Three drops of wine, one drop of water.

He used his hand as the paten and chalice!

After he was liberated, he called those 

the most beautiful Masses he ever offered.

That gulag was close to hell on earth.

Archbishop Van Thuan found heaven there, in the Eucharist.

Now, one more story, and I invite you to put yourself in it.

This comes from Father Randall Roberts,

Who was a United States Air Force chaplain in Saudi Arabia. 

He was serving American soldiers stationed there.

Because any public Christian activity is illegal in Saudi Arabia,

when he was going to offer Mass for American soldiers 

who were stationed in Saudi, that had to be low-key, out of sight, 

and he relied on soldiers to spread the word.

So, one day he was offering Mass in an abandoned recreation shack 

surrounded by a chain-link fence.

Now, it also happens there are many millions of foreign workers 

in Saudi Arabia, including very many Christians.

One of these foreign workers walked by; 

He looked, and when he realized Mass was underway, 

Here’s that man’s reaction, as Father Roberts witnessed:

The man “pressed himself against the other side of the fence.”

He appeared to be straining his whole body – or at least his heart – 

through the chain-link fence, like water through a filter…

The sheer ecstasy in his face from being present 

at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass – though not able to move closer – 

is an image that will be indelibly etched in my heart until I die.

Many of us face the agony of uneven finances, 

family distress, and uncertain health situations.

Some may be unsure where their home will be next month.

But notice: no fences, no threatening armies blocked us

from meeting Jesus in the Holy Mass today!

Even with the cross each of us carries,

you and I yet have an embarrassment of riches, 

both material and spiritual. 

We are like the apostles who only saw scarcity and crisis;

They couldn’t yet anticipate the abundance Jesus would provide.

One hallmark of martyrs is that, when they seemingly lost everything, 

they still held the true treasure they could never lose.

This is how we can know the peace they gained.

Choosing to live each day as if we possess nothing but Jesus.

Anchoring all our hope, not in our stuff, our plans and assumptions, 

but only in him. 

Beg the Holy Spirit to give us this gift!