Gratitude and respect at Holy Mass (Sunday homily)

The readings are obviously about gratitude. 
They are also about worship. 

In the first reading, Naaman, who has leprosy, 
is so grateful for being healed 
that he is moved to worship the true God.

And then, in the Gospel, the same thing happens. 
The one grateful leper who returns, falls at the feet of Jesus. 
He is worshipping him. 
Gratitude and worship go together.

Our late auxiliary bishop, Carl Moeddel, 
used to say that if you don’t want to come to Sunday Mass, 
you don’t have to! 
That is, if you can say that you have absolutely nothing 
for which to be grateful. And who can say that?

Did you know that the word, Eucharist 
comes from Greek word for giving thanks? 
Now, we don’t want to reduce the Mass only to this dimension. 
The Mass is primarily an act of intercession. 
Jesus offers himself – on the Cross and on the altar, 
they are one and the same! 

And then, the Mass is also our prayer, begging God – through Jesus – 
for forgiveness, and transformation, for the salvation of our family, 
our friends, and our world, and for everything else we need.


But the thing is, once we fully appreciate the reality of the Mass, 
and our participation in it, 
then of course our response is like Naaman’s and the Samaritan leper: 
we are overwhelmed with gratitude.

Despite what it seems, this is not just something we human beings do. 
Yes, that’s what we see: the ushers, the priest, 
the servers, we hear the musicians, we see everyone else at Mass; 
so it’s a human activity. But that’s not the primary reality. 
Rather, the Mass is first an action of God, in which we take part. 
God is the primary actor in the Holy Mass. 
God speaks in the readings and in the prayers, especially at the altar. 
Jesus Christ himself is at the altar! He offers himself. 
We hear his words, and he, Jesus Christ, 
changes bread and wine into his own Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.

God is the one who acts; we cooperate. 
God comes down, into our midst, and makes present for us 
what first happened on the Cross. 
The whole drama of God seeking out his children to bring them home 
is real to us here. 
The peril of human sinfulness and the hope of heaven are all here! 

If we were really good, really tuned in, 
maybe we’d only need it one time. 
But…that’s not how must of us are! 
So, God in his goodness and wisdom, does it over and over and over. 
It’s a commandment to come to Mass 
each Sunday and holy day of obligation, 
because God knows what we need for our salvation.

In the vein of gratitude, 
I’d like to talk about some very practical things related to Mass. 
Specifically, how we come to communion. 
Many of us receive in the hand; 
many of us keep the time-honored practice of receiving on the tongue. 
There’s a lot to be said for receiving on the tongue, 
which – by the way – is the norm everywhere outside this country. 

If you receive in the hand, you need to be able to present two hands. 
Sometimes someone has a cast, or is carrying a child, 
or for whatever reason, cannot present two hands. 
In those cases, I will say, very softly, “I’ll put it on your tongue.” 

And I do that because it’s not really reverent 
to try to receive Holy Communion with one hand. 
Let me demonstrate; this is a quarter I’m using. 
(Demonstrate moves with quarter.) 
This is not reverent.

Why make it hard? If you don’t have two free hands, 
I’ll put the Sacred Host on your tongue. 
And I ask our Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion 
to do the same.

Also, if you receive in the hand, please do several things. 
First, be sure to put one hand on top of the other, like this. 
Sometimes people will put their hands side-by-side; 
leaving me to guess: which hand does he want me to put the host in? 

If I guess wrong, I’ve seen people be sort of awkward, 
flipping the Sacred Host from one hand to the other. 
Again, that’s not reverent.

If you’re left-handed – as I am – that’s no problem; 
put your right hand on top, 
and then use your left hand to take the Body of Christ 
from your hand to your mouth. Vice-versa if right-handed.

The other thing I ask is that you lift up your hands high. 
(Have a server come and help demonstrate.) 
Which one really is more reverent? 
And, this makes it easier for the person distributing communion.

And if you receive in the hand, 
please check your hand to see if there are particles of the Eucharist. 
And if all this seems like too much trouble, 
well, there’s always receiving on the tongue!
Now, let’s talk about that. 
To put it very plainly, you have to stick out your tongue! 

I know that some of us aren’t fully steady on our feet. 
If that’s you, how about stopping right by the front pew, 
and then you can hold onto that; and I’ll come to you. 
And if you stay in your pew, just tell someone near you, 
and I’ll come back to you.

Let me also recall that when we receive the Eucharist, 
we first make sign of reverence. 
Many choose to kneel or genuflect, which is commendable. 
But a bow is also appropriate. 
That said, I think some are forgetting that.

Someone might say, all this is being picky, who cares? 
But I would point out that when we gather for a meal, 
even an informal one, 
there are still rules about how we handle ourselves,
that are really about respect.

How we handle ourselves at Holy Mass communicates our respect 
for the reality of what happens here. 
This is far more than an informal meal. 
We come here to meet God.

Persevere like the mustard seed (Sunday homily)

When you hear the term “faith” in this Gospel, 
realize that it’s talking about something more than just belief. 
Perhaps better would be, faithfulness. Fidelity. 
Something we used to call “Stick-to-it-tive-ness.”

A lot of people hear this Gospel, 
and they think it’s talking about 
what some Protestants refer to as “name-it-and-claim it” theology. 
You’ve seen them on TV: preachers who will tell you 
that if only you believe hard enough, you can whatever you want.

This is not what Jesus is saying.

Remember, Jesus is the one who said, 
“If you want to be my disciple, take up your cross and follow me.”
Take up your cross, not, your new car!
Healings and prosperity are great if they come, 
but they aren’t what Jesus came to give us.

Jesus came to give us a new life of holiness. He came to give us heaven. 
In a word, he came to give us himself.

So the measure of a faithful disciple is fairly simple: 
is that enough for me? Is it enough for you?

In the first reading, the Prophet Habakkuk 
is wrestling with a big question, which many of us wrestle with: 
when, O God, will you keep your promises? 
When will evil be defeated? When will the truth prevail? 

And God tells Habakkuk what he tells us: 
wait for it – the vision will have its time.

The prophet’s concern was the imminent threat of invasion, 
perhaps by Assyria, or Egypt, or Bablyon. 
God’s People were surrounded on all sides 
by powerful enemies who worshipped false Gods. 
Meanwhile, the Jewish people were ignoring God and lax in their faith. 
So Habakkuk saw both crisis from without, and from within.

Sound familiar?

A lot of us are pretty anxious about the state of things, 
and for good reason. 
Today is Respect Life Sunday, 
and we know just how bad things are with assaults on human life. 

There is a huge push on to legitimize and normalize euthanasia – 
that is, killing people who are sick or depressed or in pain. 
It’s being called “assisted suicide,” but don’t be fooled;
It’s not just about people in extreme circumstances.
In places where it’s been legal, especially in Europe, 
it involves children too. 
It involves people who are simply depressed. Or disabled. 

And it isn’t about “choice.” Once euthanasia takes root,
it isn’t long before people are “helped” against their will.

In Canada, this was imposed on the entire country 
by their Supreme Court? Sound familiar? 
And now the push is on to force all hospitals, 
Force doctors and nurses to participate! 
Stay tuned; we’re next.

And I could detail other reasons for concern, 
But I don’t want to discourage you. Many of us are already discouraged. 

But let’s listen to what God told Habakkuk 
and what Jesus told his disciples: persevere! 
Especially, persevere in prayer.

Next weekend we will have our annual Forty Hours, 
and the timing couldn’t be better.

Do you know the origin of Forty Hours? It began in the 1500s, in Italy. 
The way they did it was to have each parish take turns 
with 40 hours of prayer before the Blessed Sacrament;
when one finished, another would begin, 
so that there was never-ending prayer 
in the presence of Jesus on the altar.

But do you know why they did it? 
It wasn’t primarily to grow in devotion, or to pray for their own needs. 
They were begging God to avert disaster. 

Here’s what Pope Paul III said, commending, quote, 
“the prayer of the inhabitants of the said city, 
in order to appease the anger of God, provoked by the offences of Christians, 

and in order to bring to nought the efforts and machinations 
of the Turks who are pressing forward 
to the destruction of Christendom.”

I’m sorry, but if you think our situation isn’t that dire, 
you aren’t paying attention!

In our time, we could cite many offenses of Christians, 
and our own country, that are a stench before God.
We, today, are likewise beset with enemies seeking our destruction, 
but we’re doing a good job all by ourselves, without help from ISIS.

Jesus referred to the faith the size of a “mustard seed.” 
But there’s something else about a mustard seed: 
it doesn’t do anything but be a mustard seed. 

It doesn’t say, “well, I think I can squeeze in 
being a mustard seed sometime today…
I’ll do my seed-job while I’m driving home…
This has been a tough day, I won’t get to my mustard-seeding today.” 

No, every day, every hour, that mustard seed 
does whatever a seed does to turn into a tree. 
It perseveres. And that is what Jesus calls faith.

Are there miracles you want to see? 
Do you want some of our politicians, and our judges, converted? 
Do you have family members and friends who need conversion? 
How much do you want it? How much will you pray for it?

We might think of Forty Hours as an opportunity, 
and a blessing – and it is. 

But I submit to you that first of all, it is our duty.
You and I are God’s servants; this is what we do! 
This parish exists to bring God’s holiness into this place, 
and into the lives of the people here. 
And to pray, with the whole Body of Christ, throughout the world, 
in Purgatory and Heaven, for mercy and conversion in our world.

Please sign up for Forty Hours. 
The bonus is that we get to spend this time with Jesus, 
right here with us! 

And I’ll mention something else. 
Forty Hours is a great, and easy, way to share our faith with others. 
Why not invite someone to come along? 
“Let’s just pay a visit.” You may want to explain, 
if your friend isn’t Catholic, 
that we know by faith Jesus is in that monstrance, 
the King is on the altar before us.
Anyone and everyone is welcome to come.

Lazaruses all around us. Ignore them and go to hell (Sunday homily)

This Gospel is pretty clear in what it tells us about 
God’s expectations about how we respond to the needs 
of those who are poor and suffering.

The question of how we care for the poorest and neediest – 
for all the Lazaruses around us – has a pretty wide application. 

Our parish St. Vincent de Paul group 
is sponsoring a food drive, for example. Obvious application.

And in terms of those who are poor and abandoned, 
how can anyone with a conscience 
not see how this applies in the case of legal abortion? 
Of course I mean the unborn child, 
who is completely abandoned. 
So many treat the unborn child 
the way the rich man treated Lazarus – 
as if he didn’t even exist. 

But I also mean the women and others involved. 
Last week, I attended an annual luncheon 
to benefit the Elizabeth New Life Center, in Sidney, 
and heard the stories of those women 
who are so often exploited by the abortion industry. 
It’s a cruel joke to use the term “choice,” 
because so often, women and girls are pressured, 
and threatened, and manipulated, into getting abortions. 

Thank God for the work the New Life Center, 
and other crisis pregnancy centers nationwide, 
do to help women make the choice for life, 
and then support those women along the way! 

This ministry is the exact opposite of what the Gospel describes. 
They are seeking out all the Lazaruses as they can, 
and binding up their wounds, and getting them back on their feet. 

But let me offer another application. Let’s talk about immigration. 
This is a big subject, 
and I’m not going to get into the details of public policy. 

Rather, I just want to raise the question 
of how this passage applies to this situation. 
The bishops have said, repeatedly, 
that it’s absolutely legitimate for countries 
to control their borders and for people to obey the law. 
But what’s also important is to have compassion 
and to respect every person’s dignity, 
including people who are illegal immigrants, who have broken the law.

So, for example, the bishops have pointed out 
how much of this problem is driven by poverty,
and that is the root cause that needs to be addressed. 
And they’ve pointed out that as legitimate 
as the goal of controlling our borders is, 
nonetheless, sometimes the remedies can be cruel – 
breaking up families, for example – and excessive. 

For example, one proposal has been to make any kind of assistance 
to illegal immigrants a crime, even providing food and shelter.

You and I as citizens have a voice; 
as Catholics, our duty is to raise our voice for all the Lazaruses: 
the unborn, the unwelcome, those trapped in poverty, 
and all those we might rather forget about.

In the prayer I offered near the beginning of Mass, we heard: 
“O God, who manifest your almighty power 
above all by pardoning and showing mercy, 
bestow, we pray, your grace abundantly upon us 
and make those hastening to attain your promises 
heirs to the treasures of heaven.”

Notice that: God wants to give us the “treasures of heaven” – 
it is for that reason that he pardons us and shows us mercy, 
and pours his grace -- his power to transform us – 
“abundantly upon us.” So far, so good.

But, here’s the “but”: 
God sees how generous you and I are – or are not.
He sees whether we go out of our way to bring others 
to share in his treasures. 
And if we don’t, we will share the fate of the rich man in the Gospel, 
who is not waiting to enter into life, 
but is waiting to enter into hell.

The good news is, it’s not hard. If you want mercy, show mercy.
Especially to the poorest.

Use stuff to gain people (Sunday homily)

The parable Jesus told is confusing in some ways. 
But here's the key point: Jesus is telling us to have the right approach 
to money, and stuff, and material success.

Let's compare the worldly way with God's way:
The worldly way is to use people to gain success and money;
God's way is to use money and position to gain people -- that is, for the Kingdom.

One of the principles our Church teaches in the category of social justice 
is "the universal destination of goods." What does that mean?

It means that while we may own this or that thing, ultimately, everything belongs to God; 
and God gave everything in Creation for all his children to enjoy.

Think of a family. Dad passes out slices of pizza to everyone. He intends everyone to get some. 
What happens when he looks up and sees one child has three slices, and two have none?

God doesn't intervene the way my father, or yours, would. 
But he sees, and he will hold us accountable.

Now, the point is not socialism, 
because that just lets someone in government play god, 
and they make a mess of it. 

Rather, the point is that you and I seek to ensure 
every one of God's children gets a fair chance. 
And if no one forces us to share, that doesn't mean 
we can't and shouldn't do it ourselves.

My pizza analogy can be misunderstood, 
because there is only going to be a certain amount of pizza on the table;
but that doesn't mean there isn't an abundance of resources in our world.

It has been fashionable for years to claim that our world is resource-poor,
and that we have too many people. 
I'm sorry, but that is the devil talking!
God never says, "I have too many children."

It is a worldly mindset that says, "too many people."
Remember the disciples in the Gospel, 
when they had all those people listening to Jesus, and they were hungry? 
What did the disciples say? "Send them away."
But Jesus said, "you feed them yourselves." 
The disciples said, we can't do that! 
But when they did it God's way, they had more than enough, 
and twelve baskets of leftovers besides. 

Let's get back to how we approach our stuff and our plans for our lives. 
There is a place for budgets, for ambition, for savings and security.
But the key question we might ask is...

What is it all for?
What will I do with my success, 
my advancement in my career, and whatever stuff I acquire?

Jesus praised the dishonest steward for being prudent -- he used stuff to gain people.
And his point is not to favor dishonesty, but to say, would that the children of light
were doing the same, that is, to gain people for the Kingdom.

If you have a house, you can welcome people.
If you have a car, you can give rides.
If you have money and stuff, you can give some of it away.
Our St. Vincent de Paul group is organizing another food drive, 
which you can read about in the bulletin. 
They want to raise enough to donate over 5,000 items of food to the hungry. 
We did it before and we can do it again.

When I was a new priest, I would give a penance to children, 
who said they were greedy, to go home and give something away. 
But then I realized, they might give away something they shouldn't, so I stopped that. 

Still, I think it's never too early to learn the lesson of letting go of possessions.

If we reach heaven, you and I won't see any of our possessions there. 
None of our money, or stuff, will be there. 
But what we will see is people. And won't it be wonderful 
to see all the people we helped get there, with our stuff?

God's Mercy is shockingly generous, but... (Sunday homily)

The readings are all about God’s mercy. Let me make three points.

First: God’s mercy is shockingly generous.
Second: God’s mercy requires a response.
Third: That response is both hard – and easy.

In the Gospel, we heard three parables, each about something lost: 
a lost sheep, a lost coin, and most precious, a lost son. 
Scripture scholar Brant Pitre points out something 
about the parables of Jesus that we may not realize: 
that they often contain a twist or a surprise that we may miss, 
because they are so familiar. So let’s take a look.

In the first parable, Jesus says, 
“what man…would not leave the ninety-nine…
and go after the lost one until he finds it?” 
And the answer is, no one would do that! 
If you leave 99 sheep unguarded, what is likely to happen? 
You’ll lose a lot more. 

It’s the same in the second parable. Who would throw a party 
to celebrate finding a penny? Has anyone here ever done that?

Now we come to the third parable. The son’s sinfulness is extreme. 
He wants his father dead; 
he cruelly leaves and completely separates himself from his family. 

But the twist is in the response of the Father. 
He sees the son coming from “a long way off.” 
In other words, he was watching intently for him, day and night. 
Second, the Father runs—runs!—to his son. 
And, above all, the Father is extremely generous. 
Had he said, I’m glad you’re home, we’ll clean you up, 
but you have to prove yourself, wouldn’t that have been generous? 

When God gives, he always gives super-abundantly. 
Manna in the desert. Wine at Cana. Dying on the Cross. 
And so it is here.

So listen up: if you find yourself doubting God’s mercy, 
if you wonder if God can or will forgive you, 
or whether he has forgiven you, stop it! 
I realize sometimes we have feelings we can’t control, 
but be clear on this: if we ask for God’s mercy, he will give it. 

One drop of Jesus’ blood can wash away all sin, 
and when you receive absolution in confession, 
you are bathed in God’s mercy. 
It’s not because we deserve it, or work for it, 
or are in any way worthy of it. 

The psalm we prayed was written by King David, 
after he committed rape, and adultery, and murder,
and betrayal of a loyal servant, and lies to cover it all up. 
And God forgave him.

God’s mercy is so generous that it’s shocking.

Now, second: God’s mercy requires a response. 
This is where so many misunderstand what mercy is. 
Some people have a fantasy image of Jesus, 
that he doesn’t care about rules, he just talked about love. 

Actually, he talked about hell a lot, 
and if you want to boil his teaching down to one commandment, 
it was, take up your cross. Die to ego, die to money, 
die to family attachment, die to sex, die to ambition, die to self. 
The younger son had to die to all his dreams and ego, come home. 
Or else, he’d have died in his sins.

Part of our response is to pray mercy for others. 
This is really what the first reading is about. 
The point here is not that Moses has changed God’s mind, 
but rather, God is helping Moses himself to grow in mercy. 
God wanted Moses himself to say, oh no, God, please have mercy! 

A lot of us can see ourselves in the younger son – 
we’ve done things of which we are deeply ashamed, 
and it can be hard to believe God loves us. 

On the other hand, many of us are more like the older son. 
We’ve been faithful and we’re shocked by the evil things 
others have done. Your job is to intercede, as Moses was called to do. 
The older son said he was devoted; 
but had he prayed, every day, for the return of his lost brother? 

Finally, the response that mercy demands is both hard and easy. 
The sins we have in our lives: what keeps us from leaving them behind?
If we’re out drinking too much, 
or visiting the dark places on the Internet, 
or inflicting anger on others around us, 
or making a god of money or work, 
why don’t we give these things up? 
Some say, it’s impossible, I just can’t. And that’s true for some. 
That’s why Alcoholics Anonymous exists for example. 
If you feel powerless, come and see me, and I’ll help you all I can.

But for most of us, we just don’t want to give them up. 

The son didn’t come home until he became desperate. 
Sometimes the change we need to make is costly; 
sometimes it’s frightening or humiliating. 
But mercy requires a response.

It may seem hard in one sense, 
but in another it’s the easiest thing in the world. 
Go to the Father! Go to confession! 

Confession can be hard in some ways, 
and yet, it’s the easiest thing in the world. 
The priest will walk you through it, 
and no matter what else the priest might say – 
he might talk too long – still, if you tell your sins and are sorry, 
he has to give you absolution! Every single time!

God is ready to forgive. He waits for your response.

An not-costly way to be Christ's ambassador (Sunday homily)

I want to welcome everyone here, 
especially anyone who is visiting 
and perhaps is not familiar with our parish. 
If you’ve never been inside St. Remy Church, 
please come back another time for Mass, and we’ll be inside the church. 
Our church doors are open every day, from very early to late, 
and they are open for you.

As many of you know, I’ve been talking a lot about 
the importance of each of us sharing our faith. 
It may seem odd, when over 90 percent of our community is Catholic; 
but there are still a lot of folks who need the hope of Jesus Christ, 
and it’s our task to share it. 
When we stand before the Lord, and we say, well, 
I thought 92% would be good enough, we better hope he agrees!

But what you may not know is that for the past year or so, 
I’ve been working with the Pastoral Council, and our parish staff, 
to develop a plan for how we, as a parish, 
can be better oriented toward sharing our hope in Jesus Christ, 
and drawing others to him. 
And then, I listened to that bit in the first reading, 
where it says that the plans of mortals are uncertain, 
and I thought, uh-oh! 
But then I noticed the promise that when the Holy Spirit is involved, 
we have sure wisdom.

Now, I want to give everyone here a task. 
I assume you will be at our picnic today or tomorrow; 
so I ask that you will be Christ’s ambassador 
at our festival this weekend. 
When you are in line, in what you say to others, 
in what you spend your money on, and in how you handle yourself, 
will you be Christ to the others who are here today and tomorrow?

Of course our festival is a fundraiser, 
and it has been very successful in years’ past. 
And as a result, we are able to do a lot of good 
with the money we raise. 
In addition to helping to keep these grounds in top shape, 
these funds help share the faith 
with our children in religious education. 

They help the parish reach out to the homebound, 
the elderly and the needy in our community. 
And we are able to give directly to many worthy causes. 
So each of us has reason to be grateful for our volunteers, 
our festival leadership and for everyone who will take part.

Still, as important as this is as a fundraiser, 
that’s not the only, or even the main, reason we have this picnic. 
Lots of parishes have festivals because they feel they have to; 
but I think it’s different here. 
We could raise the money in other ways if we needed to. 

There are more important reasons for our picnic, 
which is why we call it our “homecoming.” 
This is a time to come together as a family, 
and it is a time to welcome people to our parish. 
Those are the more important reasons to have our annual picnic.

So that is why I’m asking you to be Christ at our picnic, 
so that everyone who is here, 
can come away from this visit with the sense, 
“I’ve been somewhere special; I’ve met some special people today.”

I hope our beer booth folks won’t mind, 
but we don’t want anyone to drink too much beer. 
We don’t want anyone to bet or spend money they can’t afford to lose. 
As you enjoy yourself, and you help others enjoy themselves, 
please be a good neighbor to anyone else who’s here.

Jesus told us to “count the cost” of being his disciple. 
Well, he’s given us perfect weather.
We are blessed to gather with our family and friends, 
we have good planning and preparation. This is about as good as it gets. 
Being his messenger, his welcome, this weekend – not very costly.

What Jeremiah can teach us about this election

In comments on a prior post, I suggested a reader -- who claims I am a bad priest because I won't support a particular political candidate as the blocking maneuver against another candidate -- read the Book of Jeremiah. Another reader asked what I meant. Here's what I had in mind.

Jeremiah was called to his prophetic ministry in a time of great peril for the Kingdom of Judah. After the invasion of Assyria destroyed the northern kingdom in 722 B.C., Judah is hemmed in by contending great powers. Now the threat comes from Babylon.

But Jeremiah's message to the people, the king and the priests is that the nation's true problem is apostasy from God; and God's judgment will take the form of Babylon's coming destruction of the temple and the city they have defiled by injustice, immorality and false worship.

In this crisis, many say that the answer to the peril of Babylon is to seek the help of Egypt; but through Jeremiah, God warns against that expediency:

And now, why go to Egypt,

to drink the waters of the Nile?

Why go to Assyria,

to drink the waters of the River? (2:18)

How frivolous you have become

in changing your course!

By Egypt you will be shamed,

just as you were shamed by Assyria (2:36).

Now, it's important to understand how the sacred texts present the nations surrounding Israel. They are presented not merely as places to go, and political powers that interacted with Israel; they are also presented as expressive of worldly values that compete with the covenant with God. Thus when the children of Israel end up in Egypt, during the famine described in Genesis, Jacob (i.e., Israel) makes his son, Joseph swear that he won't bury Jacob in Egypt: When the time approached for Israel to die, he called his son Joseph and said to him: 

“If it pleases you, put your hand under my thigh as a sign of your enduring fidelity to me; do not bury me in Egypt. When I lie down with my ancestors, take me out of Egypt and bury me in their burial place.”

“I will do as you say,” (Joseph) replied. 

But his father demanded, “Swear it to me!” So Joseph swore to him. Then Israel bowed at the head of the bed (Genesis 47:29-31).

So what does all this have to do with our upcoming election?

Lots of good folks are rightly anxious about the peril represented by one candidate winning -- and so argue that this means all good people must -- must -- cast their lot with the other candidate. Because I think they are both too flawed, and therefore, I won't vote for either, I was told I'm a shepherd who "cops out on his sheep and leaves them to be ravaged by wolves, or by satan in a pants suit." Take a look at Jeremiah to see what people said about him when he counseled not to rely on Egypt, but to trust in the Almighty.

The parallel is inexact; I do not claim it is sinful to vote for one of these terrible candidates. The bishops have said, in Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, that it is licit to vote for the lesser of two evils; but it is also acceptable to refuse to vote for any such candidate. Here are the relevant paragraphs, with key sections in bold:

34. Catholics often face difficult choices about how to vote. This is why it is so important to vote according to a well-formed conscience that perceives the proper relationship among moral goods. A Catholic cannot vote for a candidate who favors a policy promoting an intrinsically evil act, such as abortion, euthanasia, assisted suicide, deliberately subjecting workers or the poor to subhuman living conditions, redefining marriage in ways that violate its essential meaning, or racist behavior, if the voter's intent is to support that position. In such cases, a Catholic would be guilty of formal cooperation in grave evil. At the same time, a voter should not use a candidate's opposition to an intrinsic evil to justify indifference or inattentiveness to other important moral issues involving human life and dignity.

35. There may be times when a Catholic who rejects a candidate's unacceptable position even on policies promoting an intrinsically evil act may reasonably decide to vote for that candidate for other morally grave reasons. Voting in this way would be permissible only for truly grave moral reasons, not to advance narrow interests or partisan preferences or to ignore a fundamental moral evil.

36. When all candidates hold a position that promotes an intrinsically evil act, the conscientious voter faces a dilemma. The voter may decide to take the extraordinary step of not voting for any candidate or, after careful deliberation, may decide to vote for the candidate deemed less likely to advance such a morally flawed position and more likely to pursue other authentic human goods.

37. In making these decisions, it is essential for Catholics to be guided by a well-formed conscience that recognizes that all issues do not carry the same moral weight and that the moral obligation to oppose policies promoting intrinsically evil acts has a special claim on our consciences and our actions. These decisions should take into account a candidate's commitments, character, integrity, and ability to influence a given issue. In the end, this is a decision to be made by each Catholic guided by a conscience formed by Catholic moral teaching.

There's a lot more to be said about all this, but here's my point. Given a choice between the hammer and the anvil, I think the best answer is to do as Jeremiah kept begging God's People to do: return to the Lord:

Call to me, and I will answer you...

I will restore the fortunes of Judah and Israel, and rebuild them as they were in the beginning. 

I will purify them of all the guilt they incurred by sinning against me; 

I will forgive all their offenses by which they sinned and rebelled against me. 

Then this city shall become joy for me, a name of praise and pride, before all the nations of the earth, as they hear of all the good I am doing for them. 

They shall fear and tremble because of all the prosperity I give it (33:3, 7-9).

Approaching Holy Mass with humility (Sunday homily)

Let me begin by pointing out something you may have noticed: 
the second reading today was also the second reading last Sunday! 
You may be wondering, how that happened. 
It happened this way: 
while the readings most weeks are assigned, last week’s were special, 
for the anniversary of this church being consecrated, 
and they were chosen by…me. I didn’t notice the coincidence.

In any case, it gives us a chance to really reflect on that reading, 
which is really about the Holy Mass. 
It describes us approaching the heavenly Jerusalem, 
where the angels and saints gather 
in celebration of the salvation won by the blood of Jesus.

So what that describes is heaven – but how do we approach that? 
We do so in the Holy Mass.

Meanwhile, the first reading and the Gospel say a lot about humility. 
And let me point out, in passing, what humility is, and is not. 
Humility is not allowing yourself to be a doormat; 
nor is it denying that you have gifts. 

To be humble is to be at peace with who you and I are, 
with the gifts God gave us. 
The more you and I realize what it means to be a child of God, 
the easier it is to have that genuine humility. 

If I need to build myself up, 
then rushing to get the place of honor makes sense. 

But if I know, deep in my heart and being, that God loves me, 
that I am destined for heaven, 
then who cares where I sit around the table? 

So how does humility come into our approach to Holy Mass?

Here’s one thing that comes to mind: 
sharing your talents generously and without false modesty. 
I didn’t ask Carla if she wants new members of the choir, 
and new singers to help at Mass, but I’m guessing she’d love that. 
Being generous with your gifts, for the benefit of others, 
is true humility. 
If you’d like to share the gift of your voice, let Carla know!

Let me thank you, parents, for the efforts you make 
to bring your families to Mass. 
I am sure there are times when you are frustrated, 
when you feel you cannot enter into prayer during Mass, 
and you wonder if it even “counts.” Be assured, it does. 

Let me highlight another way humility is at work in the Mass – 
and that is in how those, who have particular roles in Mass, 
approach their tasks. The readers come up here, 
not to put themselves forward, but God’s Word. 

The altar servers are like the seraphim and cherubim in heaven, 
who attend to the Lord’s needs, and bow down before him. 
The musicians are here to let the light of Christ 
shine through their voices and talents. 

And the priest is here, not to put himself forward, 
but to surrender 
so that Christ is clearly the priest, the prophet, and the king. 

So that’s why, for example, many – 
such as Pope Benedict and Cardinal Sarah and others – 
have recommended a recovery of the practice 
of the priest and people facing the same way, 
when the priest is offering the Sacrifice at the altar. 

As you know, I’ve been celebrating Mass this way on Saturday mornings
 and I’ve started doing the same on Tuesdays. 
I’m not claiming there are no merits to the priest 
facing the people at the altar – which is how it will happen at this Mass, 
and how you’re used to seeing it happen. 
And I understand everyone has different preferences, 
and I respect that.

But when the priest and the people face in the same direction, 
it helps emphasize where our focus is – on the Lord. 
And I can tell you, for many priests, 
we are tempted to ego and to draw attention to ourselves, 
and we need help being humble before the Lord.

Finally, take note of what Jesus said in the Gospel, 
about inviting those who are poor, or blind, or disabled. 
This applies to Mass. 

If you know someone who has difficulty getting to Mass, 
what can you do, what can I do, to help them get here? 
Does someone need a ride? 
Or, do you know those who want communion brought to them at home? 
Let me know, please. 

But this also applies to anyone who thinks, oh, I’m not worthy. 
Or, I don’t have the right clothes. Or who feels out of place. 
Everyone here is unworthy. 
Clothes aren’t that important; we do what we can. 
If you know folks who haven’t been here, 
don’t beat them over the head about it, but do check in with them. 
Be a friend, including a spiritual friend, to them.

Something awesome happens at this and every Mass. Let’s share it. 

Clinton and Trump: both evil. One may be worse than the other.

I've got a lot I could say -- and have said, elsewhere -- about this election, but I'm going to save my fingers. Both Secretary Hilary Clinton and Mr. Donald Trump endorse grave moral evil. Both of them. If you want to argue one endorses more than the other, I won't dispute it. But first, let's be crystal clear: they both endorse grave moral evil.

Both support abortion -- one supports some abortions (rape and incest), the other supports abortion pretty much all the time, and with your tax money to pay for it. Mr. Trump supports blurring -- if not erasing -- the distinction between combatants and non-combatants, and deliberately killing terrorist's wives, parents, siblings and children. Mr. Trump supports the use of torture -- "worse than waterboarding," he has repeatedly said. Both of them support a war on terror that isn't too particular about the Constitution.

"But there's more," I hear you saying. Oh, I agree, there's a lot more, but my fingers can't type that much. The bottom line is, they both support grave moral evil.

Now, if you choose to vote for one of them, because you think that's the only way to stop the grave evil proposed by the other, I understand. I will not condemn you. But please don't let's have any pretense about it. You're voting for a lesser evil -- and a lesser evil is still...you know how that sentence ends.

This is a dismal choice. I can't remember such a wretched pair of candidates. It hit me this morning: this is divine judgment. Secretary Clinton's nomination is a judgment on the Democrats, and Mr. Trump's, a judgment on the Republicans.

Dedication of St. Remy Church (Sunday homily)

Today we are celebrating the anniversary of the consecration of this church. Now, to be precise, we don't actually know the date when this church, the third St. Remy's, was consecrated. However, we do know that the first St. Remy's was consecrated on August 18, 1852; and last year, I wrote the Archbishop, and asked permission to celebrate the consecration of our church on that date. And, since August 18 fell on Thursday, we are able to move it to the weekend for everyone's benefit. So that's what we're doing today.

But why? Why is it important to mark this anniversary. As you know, last year we put new doors on the front of the church; and Father Amberger had written above them the words, Domus Dei et Porta Coeli, which is Latin, and means, "House of God and Gate of Heaven." Some years ago, there was a movie, and then a TV show, called "Stargate." The idea was that these folks found a device that, if you turned it on, and stepped through it, you would be transported many thousands of light-years to another world. 

Now, wouldn't that be sensational if there really were such a thing? But there is: this church is a gate...to heaven!

This is why we do this.

Now, let me share a little history about our parish and our church. The first settler in this area was James Thatcher and his family, in 1805, about a mile and a half north of here. The first French Catholic families arrived in the 1830s. In September, 1839, Archbishop John Purcell sent the first priest here, Father Louis Navarron, who was given responsibility for Frenchtown, Versailles and Russia. The first church for this area was St. Valbert's, where the cemetery is now; but in those days, it wasn't easy getting there, through the forest -- so Father Navarron took up residence in Russia, and set up a chapel about a mile southeast of here, on a farm then owned by the DeBrosse family. By my calculuation, it's about where Versailles and Miller Road meet, or a little south of there. That's where Mass was first offered in Russia, and there was a cemetery there.

The first St. Remy's was consecrated August 18, 1852, and Archbishop Purcell came up from Cincinnati for that. Today that's a two hour drive; in those days, it might have taken a couple of days.

That first church, built of logs, proved to be too small, so in the 1860s, a second church was built of bricks, right around the first church -- then, the log church was dismantled and taken out the front doors! Then, in 1890, the pastor had to tell everyone that they'd built their 30-year-old church the wrong way, so they had to do it over! Imagine having to make that announcement! But they did build the third -- the present -- St. Remy's. As mentioned, we don't know the date it was consecrated, but they laid the cornerstone August 17, 1890; and it was probably dedicated in 1891. So that makes this church 125 years old this year. And, since then, of course, there have been additions and improvements.

Now, this is a good time to ask: why is this parish here? What is our purpose? As the first reading makes clear, God wishes this to be a "house of prayer for all people." I had a conversation with someone in the community recently, who is not Catholic, and she said she didn't realize she could come here, she thought it was only for Catholics. May I suggest we all make it our task, in the coming year, to communicate to everyone in our community, Catholic or not, that this is a house of prayer for all people?

But I want to return to an earlier point. I mentioned that fanciful "gate" to another world. It would be impressive -- but it's only impressive if people believe it's real. Likewise, folks will only be impressed by this place, this Porta Coeli, if they have reason to believe it's real.

So do people see in me -- in you -- some evidence that this place changes us, because we come here? 

Let me suggest some "markers" that might serve to convey this to others:

- First, when we come here, one of the things we can do is go to confession. There are many benefits, but let me highlight one in particular: it will make us humble. Nothing is more humbling than to kneel down, in the presence of another fallen human being, and confess your sins. And if we are humble, rather than arrogant, that will impress people.

- Knowing our faith and sharing it is great; but what impresses people is when they see that we live it, in how we live and how we treat others.

- Another marker is how we stand apart from worldliness. This is delicate, because I'm not saying we should shun people when they are drinking and smoking pot, and looking at trash on the Internet, taking God's name in vain, and all the rest; but what is important is that we communicate, in the right way, that we're not part of that.

- Finally, are we peaceful? Both in how we deal with others, and in our own lives? So many people these days are worked up about politics, about the situation in the world, about other things -- what does that communicate? If we're angry and fearful, does that suggest we've just been to heaven? 

These are some ways people will see this Gate of Heaven is real -- because it changes us. And that will draw people to this House of God.

Division and peace (Sunday homily)

(Sorry it took me awhile to post this. I had incomplete notes, and I just didn't get around to posting them. I think I'm leaving things out, that weren't written down. This is what I can reconstruct from my notes. I actually posted this 8/25, but I'm back-dating it for the Sunday it corresponds to.)

In the readings, Jesus talks about both division and peace. So I'll talk about division first, then peace.

Jesus brings division, not because it's what he wants, but because the truth divides: between those who accept it, and those who do not. Our world is divided over truth. It has always been thus, especially over who Jesus is. There has always been resistance to him. So, understand: facing opposition because you are a Christian is normal! I repeat: it's the normal state for a Christian. So: if you haven't experienced any, why might that be?

In our time, you and I face an unusual situation. In times past, the division was over doctrine: who Jesus is, whether God is a trinity, over the Eucharist, or the priesthood, and so forth. But in our time, the battle lines are over objective truth, the truth of who humanity is: male and female, and male made for female and vice-versa.

That a male is male, and a female is female, not as a social construct but as a biological fact, isn't a dogma -- it's objective truth. And now, for me to state that, is deemed bigotry. It's important for you and me to realize what we're up against. 

I realize we don't like having this discussion, and you're right to dislike it, but there's no avoiding it. This is Jesus' point: "don't think I'm bringing peace..." as in, no conflict.

You and I are those people described in the second reading. This world isn't our home, our destination. We are bound for a city where Christ is king. So, may I suggest that we avoid being drawn into conflicts over things that don't matter for eternity? Whether politics, or sports, or whatever? The only really good reason to ever be in conflict, is over faith in Jesus Christ.

Jesus does, indeed, bring peace: but only when he is Lord -- over every heart and every nation. So, if you want that peace, start surrendering your own heart to him.

Is this your last day? (Sunday homily)

This Gospel is read as part of the vigil prayers, for a funeral, 
which usually takes place at the funeral home. 
It’s easy to see why, because it offers us such an assurance: 
if we are ready for Jesus when he comes to us, 
he will not only take us to heaven, 
but he, the Lord, will actually wait on us! 
As I often say after I read this, at the funeral home, 
if you hadn’t heard me just read that from the Gospel, 
you might not believe God had made such a promise. But there it is.

So, these readings invite us to think about being ready – 
ready for God to call us. 
And it calls to mind what we used to call “a happy death” – 
that is, a well-provided-for death. 
So let’s talk about what that is.

A well-provided-for death means 
we have the chance to go to confession, 
and to receive the sacrament of anointing, 
and above all, to receive the Holy Eucharist. 

A well-provided-for death means 
we can make our peace with others 
and face eternity with a clean conscience. 
An especially beautiful way this happens 
is when family are gathered with the person who is dying, 
and they are praying together. 
If the priest is called – not necessarily at the exact moment, 
but in the last few weeks or days – 
then he can help the family with all this.

When this happens, it is a beautiful thing, 
not only for the one who is facing eternity, but for everyone. 

Now, here’s the thing. We don’t always get a warning. What then?

Well, then it comes down to how we live our daily lives, doesn’t it? 
My grandmother had a saying: “being a Catholic can be a hard life – 
but an easy death.” By that, she meant a faithful, practicing Catholic.

What’s “hard” about it?

Forgiving is hard. Keeping custody of the eyes is hard. 
Being honest and guarding our tongues is hard. 
Putting God first can be hard.

But, in another sense, it’s not hard at all. 
How to be faithful isn’t a secret. And we have a lot of help. 
That’s what the Church, the Body of Christ, is for. 
If you’re trying to live a Christian life, don’t try to do it alone. 
That makes it harder. 

Instead, seek out other practicing Catholics, and support one another. 
If you’re running with folks who are out late drinking and partying, 
guess what you’re probably going to end up doing? 

This is why God gave us each other, and above all, 
it’s why he gave us the saints, especially Mary, the Mother of God. 
If you ever think, I don’t know how to be a good Catholic, 
then take a long, hard look at the saints. 

Pick one. Who is your own patron saint? Don’t know? You can find out. 
Ask your parents if they had a saint in mind when they named you. 
If not, then look up your own name, 
and find out what saints had that name. 

And if that doesn’t work, then you can just pick a saint, 
and make him or her your patron saint. 
Patron saints are not like girlfriends or boyfriends – 
you can have as many as you want, and they don’t get jealous!

The thing about heaven, we’re not going to end up there by surprise. 
And we won’t get there by being kidnapped. If we get to heaven, 
it will be because we aimed to get there; we wanted to be there; 
because that’s the treasure we wanted most of all.

So, you and I can take our chances 
and hope we’ll get a chance to go to confession in your final hour; 
or, we can get to confession every month. 
You can hope that you’ll have a priest bring you holy communion 
at the end; or, you can receive Jesus’ Body and Blood each Sunday, 
or even daily, if you want. 
We can hope we’ll make peace with others, someday, or…

Well, you get the idea.

Is today my last day? Is it yours? We can’t know. But we can be ready.

What price will you pay? (Sunday homily)

Father Jacques Hamel, pray for us!

As I think everyone is aware, last week, 
a Catholic priest was murdered in France, 
while he was offering the Holy Mass. 
In fact, he was martyred – at least, that is my own opinion. 
His name is Father Jacques Hamel. May he pray for us! 

I know this is disturbing; but remember, 
this is what has been happening in Iraq, and Syria, in Egypt and Turkey, 
and many other places, 
where Christianity has existed almost from the beginning. 
But those places seem so far away; 
we don’t expect this to happen in France. 

Let’s remember who the true author of persecution of the Faith is. 
It is the devil; and if we are faithful Christians, 
he hates us every bit as much as he does those 
Christians who are driven from their homes in Iraq or in Africa.
Let me say that again: if you and I are faithful, 
we face the exact same hatred and opposition 
that comes to those who are being martyred 
in so many places around the world.

So that raises a question:
What price are you and I prepared to pay, 
for the love of Jesus Christ?

Father Hamel paid with his life; but the truth is, 
most of us aren’t going to face that. 
You and I are likely to face rather different choices.

Two years ago, as you may recall, 
Brendon Eich, the CEO of Mozilla – a computer software company – 
was forced to resign from the leadership of that company –
 which he founded, by the way! – 
because he had donated money 
to a referendum defining marriage as a man and a woman. 

Now, I don’t know anything about Mr. Eich’s faith, but here’s the point. 
If someone who is rich and powerful 
like Mr. Eich can be forced out of his job, 
what do you think is likely to happen to the rest of us?

In the state of Washington, the governor imposed a rule 
that if you operate a drug store, you must – must! – 
distribute the so-called “morning after pill.” 
While its supporters claim it’s merely a contraceptive, 
a lot of people are concerned that it may induce an abortion. 

Several pharmacists sued, simply asking that they be able to opt out 
and not be made to cooperate with this.
Their case went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. They lost.
So now their choice is: either do what they believe is wrong, 
or else stop being pharmacists.

Are you and I prepared to see the loss of a promotion, 
or a job, or a career, as the price we pay for the love of Jesus Christ?

If you speak up about the dignity of human life–
every single human life truth about men and women* – 
you may be called some names. You may lose a friendship.

Let me say something to our students. 
Many of you will go off to college, 
either in a few weeks, or in the next few years. 
This community, the environment here, 
shelters us from a lot of ugliness. 

Some of you are in for a shock when you get to college. 
Not only will you be in situations 
where most people around you aren’t Catholic, 
but quite a lot of the Catholics around you 
won’t be very tuned into their Faith. 
A lot of the built-in supports that you experience here, 
a lot of which you may not even be aware of, will be gone. 

I’m not trying to scare you; and I’m not saying you can’t handle it.
What I am saying is, that in those moments, 
you’ll start paying a price 
for the love of Jesus Christ, and it may take you by surprise. 
There will be people around you 
who won’t be able to stand up to it.
Can you bear that scorn and rejection, 
as the price you will pay for Christ?

Don’t be overwhelmed. Be encouraged! 
When someone gets up in your face, when someone spits at you, 
or turns his back on you, for what you believe, 
and when the shock passes, something wonderful happens. 
Actually, several wonderful things happen.

First, you realize: I’m stronger than I thought.
Second, you look around, and there will be people with you. 
It may not be very many, but it doesn’t have to be many. 
Just one other person will give you great courage.

Third, you will feel a spiritual power unlike anything you’ve ever known. 
You will know it isn’t your strength, but the strength of Jesus Christ. 
And you will, in that moment, understand exactly 
How martyrs have such superhuman courage and peace. You’ll feel it.

And, finally, you’ll remember what Jesus said 
about being close to those who are maligned and attacked for his sake. 
You’ll feel Jesus right there. 
And nothing in this world means anything compared to that.

Most of us will never be martyrs like Father Hamel, 
but every one of us can expect to pay some price 
for being faithful to Jesus Christ. 
And consider this: how is it that Father Hamel 
Faced his martyrdom with courage and grace?
One answer is that it is supernatural grace, and that’s true.
However, there’s more to it than that.

The great and costly decisions in life 
are prepared for by small and boring ones. 
My parents never gave their lives for me all at once. 
Instead, they gave their lives for my brothers and sisters and me, 
little by little, day by day. 
I have yet to be faced with martyrdom, 
but every day I am faced with the decision to get up, pray, 
give myself to others as I meet them hour by hour, 
and be faithful to the Lord and to his people.

And it’s exactly the same for you.

So I ask you again: what price are you prepared to pay, 
for the love of Jesus Christ?

* I made this change after the 5 pm Mass.

Sodom, hell and hope (Sunday homily)

The first reading mentions the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah, so let’s start there.
The passage we heard doesn’t spell out the sins involved, 
but I think most of us know; in any case, 
you can read about it in chapter 19 of Genesis if you want.

I’m going to talk about three things in this homily. First is the sin of Sodom. 
The second is hell. And the third is hope.

So let’s talk a little about what was going on in Sodom.

Until not that many years ago, 
there wouldn’t have been that much controversy
in reiterating that sexual behavior involving two people of the same sex 
is a mortal sin. 
But our society is changing rapidly, 
and now there is intense social pressure for us to keep quiet. 
After all, we can always talk about something else, can’t we? 
But when the subject comes up, you and I have a duty to speak up. 
It came up in the readings, so I’m speaking up.

One of difficulties in talking about the issues relating to homosexual activity
is that our society has language and concepts that are problematic, 
and first we have to address that. 
So, for example, many people tend to identify and define themselves by an attribute. 
But does this make sense?

Let me use a personal example.* My “ampleness” isn’t a result of a bee sting! 
It’s a result of eating too much over the years. 
That’s a moral failing of mine; it’s one of the deadly sins, gluttony. 
That doesn’t define me, however. But there are people who do, 
indeed, shape their lives around food and eating. 
You can see a whole cable channel dedicated to this; and on another channel, 
a show about people who are over 600 pounds as a result.

Also, when we talk about this subject, 
it sometimes seems like we’re making it out to be the worst possible sin. 
There are Ten Commandments, 
and it’s possible to commit mortal sins involving all ten. 
So we don’t want to overstate the matter.

It’s also necessary to make very clear that feelings aren’t sins. 
A husband’s eye may stray, and his wife may think murderous thoughts 
when she sees where he’s looking, 
but virtue lies not in impulses, but in our choices.

The real problem with Sodom and Gomorrah wasn’t only lust, 
but a more general state of moral madness. 

I read an article recently by Catholic scholar Anthony Esolen called 
“The Uses of Disgust.” 
It’s an excellent article, you can find it online. 

He makes the point that all of us have, built in, 
a faculty for disgust, for revulsion, and he compares it to our sense of smell. 
He writes, “What smells good to a vulture, flesh rotting in the sun, 
smells repugnant to us, because eating such flesh would be bad for us. 
The smell is then protective; 
it keeps us from tasting even a little of something that would sicken or kill.”

And his point is that our moral sense is meant to work that way, too. 
But, of course, if we ignore – or kill off – that faculty of moral repugnance…
then we will find ourselves consuming what is bad for us, and claiming to like it.

And that’s what was wrong with Sodom and Gomorrah. 
It wasn’t just one moral failing. They’d completely lost their way. 
Understanding that explains why God would talk of destroying the city; 
because it means they had reached the point of no return.

There is another word for the point of no return: it’s called hell. 

The clear point of this whole episode is not, fire and brimstone,
but God wanting to rescue all that he can. 
If you read on, there aren’t even ten innocent people. 
There are four, that is, Abraham’s cousin, Lot, his wife and two daughters; 
and if you read the next chapter, they weren’t exactly innocent, either. 

But what they were was salvageable. They weren’t beyond hope. 
So God sends his angels to rescue them. 
And many of us have had that experience: 
whether being saved from moral danger or physical danger. 
I can distinctly remember a time I was riding in the back seat of my dad’s car, 
and I had my head out the window. 
Something made me pull my head in; and just after I did, 
a car coming the other way came frighteningly close. 
And there have been many times in my life when I wanted to do the wrong thing, 
and something blocked my way. And I bet that’s happened to you, too.

So when we wonder why God cares – about two people of the same sex,
 or about whether we wait for marriage, or contraception, 
how we might entertain ourselves…this is why: 
because God knows these things, however attractive, distort us. 
It’s not all at once, it’s little by little. 

If there is a hell – and Jesus talks about it a lot, so I think there is one – 
do you think many people really set out in life to go there? 
So then, how do people end up there? By losing – by destroying – 
that sense of revulsion from what is evil. 

All right, enough fire and brimstone. Let’s turn to what Jesus said in the Gospel. 
He told us: God wants to give us good gifts. He is eager to give them to us! 
He wants us to want them. 
Notice what Jesus said: “how much more will the Father in heaven 
give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?"

The Holy Spirit in us is what helps us revive our moral compass, 
if it’s been beaten up,
 and to help us turn our hearts and desires from what seems good, 
to what truly is good. 
We first receive the Gift of the Holy Spirit in baptism. 
As Saint Paul makes clear, the gift of baptism, the gift of God himself, 
washes away all transgressions. They are, as he says, “nailed to the cross.” 

And, after baptism? That’s what the sacrament of confession is for: 
renewing the grace of baptism, and applying that powerful solvent 
to any and all sins we may confess. 

I’ll say it again: the Father wants to give us good gifts. 
He offers us total and complete forgiveness. He offers us chance after chance. 
He offers us life in the Holy Spirit. 
He offers us life with the Trinity forever. It’s so easy! 

“And I tell you, ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; 
knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; 
and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, 
the door will be opened."

*At the 5 pm Mass, I used the example of my being left-handed. Afterward, I decided an example of a moral failing would be more apt.

If Jesus came to your house (Sunday homily)

If Jesus Christ called, and invited himself over for dinner 
at your house, what would you do?

How would you react?

Let’s see what the checklist would be:

- Clean the house; I mean, really clean the house!
- Go to the store and get the fancy stuff – the very best food.
- Clean up the kids.
- Get out the best clothes, a fresh shave, 
run to the hairdresser, maybe?
- Tell everyone –with the laser-gaze of death 
that only mothers can give – 
that they are to be on their very best behavior!
- Maybe mow the lawn? Trim the hedges? 
Put the garden hose away?

What kind of meal would you fix for the Lord?

Remember, he came to earth as a Jewish man, 
so that means he kept Kosher. How do you cook Jewish food? 
What can you fix for him?

Do you serve drinks? He did make wine; would he like a beer? 
In a glass, or would he just drink it out of the can?

What do you talk about? If you and your spouse have been fighting, 
maybe you decide beforehand that everyone will be all smiles.

And, if you don’t have time to clean all the rooms, 
you just keep the Divine Guest out of the kids bedrooms, 
if they are too much of a mess.
Hopefully you don’t have a nervous breakdown 
until after the Lord goes home!

On the other hand…

Doesn’t Jesus already know what your house looks like normally?

And doesn’t he already know 
what you and your spouse are arguing about? 
So if Jesus came to your house, maybe that’s what you talk about: 
you stop trying to keep everything perfect, 
and instead, you let things be real. 
Maybe you just open your heart to him, tell him what’s going on, 
and ask for his help. 
Ask him the questions you’re dying to know the answers to.

In short, if Jesus came to your house tonight, 
would you spend your time trying to see what you could do for him – 
or would you see how you can be open to him 
doing as much as he can, for you?

And then, having God as your guest in your house isn’t a calamity, 
but a joy – and you don’t want him to leave.

By the way, my question isn’t just for the homily. 
I encourage you to take this question home with you. 
If Jesus were coming to stay at your house – what would you do? 
I suggest this for a couple of reasons.

First, this is a really powerful way to pray.
Saint Ignatius of Loyola recommended it. 

Namely, take a scene from Scripture – 
such as the readings we’re talking about – and use your imagination. 
Put yourself in that scene. 
Would you be Martha? Mary? Abraham? Sarah? 
One of the servants? How would you react? What would you do?

And, second, being able to let Jesus come to your house, as it were, 
and instead of being on pins and needles, 
you are able to relax and be with someone you trust…
that’s the heart of prayer! 

To be able to be with Jesus as a friend; closer than a friend, really: 
because we are with our Creator and our Redeemer. 
Nothing is hidden, and nothing need stand between us.

(Added at some Masses:

When Paul talks about the mystery that was hidden from ages ago, but revealed in us, 
this is what he's talking about: Jesus coming to our house -- but not our physical house, 
but the "house" of our hearts, our lives. And that leads to a further mystery, 
foreshadowed by the first reading: of Jesus bringing us to his house, to the life of the Trinity!)

Every Thursday we have exposition of the Blessed Sacrament – 
that is, Jesus is on the altar for us to gaze at him, 
talk to him, and him to us –
from the morning Mass until around 8:45 pm when we have Benediction.

This is our opportunity to sit with Jesus 
and to enter into that friendship. Maybe it’s hard, at first. 
What do I say? How do I talk to God? 
Do I have to use certain words?

No, just visit with him. Gaze at him. Open one of the Gospels, 
and read his words. Imagine you are with him. Tell him what hurts. 
Bring the names of all the people you care about to him. 

God wants to come and visit with you, today.

Death in Dallas (Sunday homily)

(My homily was from notes; this is a close approximation.)

I think we are all aware of the ugly events of the past week. In Dallas, five police officers were murdered, and several other people were wounded. You may not realize that police officers were shot at in other places as well. The shootings in Dallas came a day after two controversial incidents in which police, in carrying out their duties, shot and killed two men. And all that is against a backdrop of concern and suspicion about other incidents in which people died in interactions with police.

Now, we know these situations get misreported and misrepresented by media, by activists and politicians. And we know these things are not always clear-cut. One case is not like another. We know the police have a difficult job; so a lot of time our sympathy goes with them. On the other hand, some of the situations look pretty bad, and it's hard to understand why the police acted as they did.

There is a tendency to take sides; but as someone else pointed out, it really is possible to be supportive of the police, and yet also be concerned when things go too far. 

You and I don't have to resolve the facts in these matters to know some things for certain:

-- Of course, nothing justifies cold-blooded murder -- by anyone.

-- Just because there is racism, and there is, doesn't justify violence.

-- Just because being a police officer is dangerous, and it is, doesn't mean anything goes.

This is a mess, because there is so much anger and fear; even if it's based on false claims or misunderstandings doesn't change that. This is a climate in which a lot more ugliness can occur.

So what do we do?

Well let's begin with the words of Jesus in the Gospel. He was asked, "who is my neighbor" -- and with his parable, Jesus gives the answer: anyone; everyone. No, we can't solve everyone's problems, but that doesn't mean we don't have to care, and do what we can.

A good and necessary step is to seek greater understanding.

Suppose you had a neighbor, and you looked over, and thought, gee, they don't take very good care of their yard, and the house needs to be fixed up; and their kids are playing outside pretty late all the time, and they don't look very well cared-for; and while you see all this, in your house, you are forming a definite idea of the sort of people they are next door.

But what if you went out of your house and went next door? Then you might discover some things: that perhaps one of the spouses is ill, and the other spouse is so busy caring for the other, that he or she can't keep up with the kids. Or perhaps there is only one parent carrying the whole load? Maybe they don't have much money so they can't keep up with things; and maybe they don't know anyone to call to help them. My point being, once you are actually in the situation, you might understand the situation rather differently.

What goes on in our cities is depressing, and should alarm us. The poverty isn't so much of material things, but of education; we have schools that don't work very well, and add in crime and drugs, and behind all that are lots of broken families. You and I get frustrated, because we are taxpayers, and we spend large sums of money and nothing seems to do any good. So it's tempting to look away and brush our hands of it all. But they are our neighbors.

And, if we want, we can go and find folks who are beaten and half-dead in Troy, in Piqua, in Dayton and Sidney. 

Finally, you and I can ask the Holy Spirit to guard our hearts against rash assumptions and writing people off, and from anger.

We've had bad times before. In times of conflict, God raises up people who bring a voice of calm and peace; I don't just mean towering, national figures; I mean lots of ordinary people, speaking and praying words of faith. We never seem to have enough of such people. So, how about you and I tell the Lord at this Mass, we're willing to be such people, who speak peace, instead of cynicism and rage?

Loving our country as Isaiah loved his (Sunday homily)

Tomorrow we celebrate our nation’s birthday: 
240 years ago we declared our independence! 
A lot of us will be at parties, 
and shooting off fireworks today and tomorrow. 

I love our nation’s birthday, I am sure you do too. 
The saddest 4th of July I ever had was when I was a seminarian, 
and I was spending a month in South Korea. 
It was a wonderful experience overall, 
but being away from home on Independence Day made me sad; 
and it was the only 4th of July I spent away from our home.

That love of country that runs deep in us is a good thing; 
in the ancient Roman way of thinking, 
it belonged to the category of pietas, where we get our word piety; 
but for Romans, it was more about our sense of duty and attachment 
to our country and family; as a son or daughter to a mother or father.

There’s a saying, “my country, right or wrong.” 
The great English Catholic writer, G.K. Chesterton, famously replied, 
“That’s like saying, my mother, drunk or sober”! 

His point being that, yes, if my mother is drunk, 
she is still my mother and I love her; 
but I surely want better for my mother, and for all those I truly love. 
Surely, we want the best for our country; 
to be right, rather than wrong.

That’s what is going on in the first reading; 
the prophet Isaiah loves his country, too. 

In his time, she was in deep trouble, in every way. 
But the prophet receives a vision of a better future, 
when God’s people would be secure 
in the arms of their mother, Jerusalem. 
Yet not only Israel, but all nations would be secure in, 
and draw life from, the City of God. 

The main thing to understand here 
is that this is about spiritual abundance, spiritual life. 
Which means, the nation has to save its soul. 
And this, I think, is what should concern us 
on this 240th anniversary of our Independence: the soul of our country.

I need hardly recount all the reasons to be concerned. 
Our laws continue to allow the destruction of unborn children. 
And, of course, there is the deep confusion about what marriage is. 

So many Americans are caught up in poverty, 
not so much of material things – 
our nation has never had more material things – 
but of education and opportunity, 
which are bound up with problems of 
crime, and drugs, and broken families.

Now, what sort of problems are these? 

They may be economic, or political, or military, or legal, 
but they are also a spiritual problem.
There is a spiritual battle going on. 
Let’s not miss that! 

Isaiah was concerned for the soul of his country, in his time, 
and it is the same for us. 
Isaiah was the voice of conscience in his time; 
and, likewise, so must we be in our time. 

How do we do this?
Well, notice what Jesus told the 70 disciples.
He said, stay focused, don’t get distracted along the way. 
Don’t worry too much about what stuff you bring along; 
but make sure you bring a peaceful spirit. 
If your peace isn’t accepted, it will come back to you. 
So as I said last week: don’t get worked up, get prayed up.

One way to keep our focus is frequent trips to confession. 
When we feel anger, or worry, or we get off track, 
a good confession helps a lot to get our priorities in order. 

This is where Saint Paul’s words in the second reading 
make so much sense. 
He said, “the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.” 

When Jesus was on the cross, 
he didn’t say, “how terrible this is!” – even though it was! 
Nor did he just give up.
Rather, he said: “Into your hands, Father.” 

When he was seemingly at his most powerless – 
when he was at his lowest – is when Jesus’ power was greatest; 
because that is when he poured out his grace on the world!

That is what you and I, as disciples of Christ, bring to our country.
Yes, we speak out; yes, we vote; yes, we get involved. 
But none of that will mean anything 
unless it is in the grace and power of Jesus Christ. 
If you and I want to make a difference for our country – 
to be right rather than wrong – 
let us offer words and actions bathed in prayer and full of grace.

Focus (Sunday homily)

As I reflected on these readings from Scripture, one word came to mind: focus.

In the first reading, we have Saint Elijah seeking out the man 
God had chosen as his successor, Elisha. Elisha is focused: 
by slaughtering his oxen and giving away the food, 
he shut the door on ever going back 
on his resolve to be the Lord’s prophet.

Then in the Gospel, we see Jesus totally focused on Jerusalem. 
He knows what will happen there: 
he will give his life as a ransom for many. 
James and John’s focus is somewhere else. 

They remind me of a saying a friend of mine has: 
“Keep your eye on the main chance; 
don’t stop to kick every barking dog.” 
James and John are stopping to kick the Samaritans; 
Jesus is keeping his eye on Jerusalem, 
and the Cross, and the salvation of the world.

And what Paul says in the second reading is likewise about focus. 
His advice could be restated as following: 
the reason you don’t want to give into temptations 
and be drawn aside by pleasure, and desires of the flesh, 
is because they will keep you from gaining eternal life.
Keep moving! Keep focused! 
Keep your eye on the main chance, which is heaven!

So when we see Jesus’ conversations with people in the Gospel, 
we might be a little put off by what he says. 
“Let the dead bury the dead,” he says to one man. 

Was Jesus saying that the man shouldn’t care for his dying father? 
Or, if the father was already dead, he shouldn’t give him a funeral? 
That is, after all, one of the corporal works of mercy.

No, I think what’s going on is that Jesus sees these folks’ hearts. 
He knows the man’s heart is divided. 
He kind of wants to follow Jesus; but he holds back. 
Remember, Jesus had a conversation like this with another man – 
a rich young man, who wanted to follow the Lord. 
And Jesus told him: go, sell all you have, and give it to the poor – 
then, come and follow me. And you will have treasure in heaven.
And do you recall what happened? 
The man did not go away and sell his things; 
instead, it says, he went away sad – because he had many possessions.

It’s all about focus. Jesus tells us: 
if you set your hand to the plow and turn back, 
you aren’t fit for the Kingdom. 
I shouldn’t talk about these things, 
because the closest I have come to putting my hand to a plow 
was driving Dave York’s combine – 
but I was driving over stubble, where I couldn’t do any real harm! 
But I noticed when Dave drove that combine, 
even as he was explaining about his farm, 
he kept a steady eye forward; 
he was making sure he didn’t fail to gather any of the corn. 
And I would imagine, when plowing, you want to look ahead, 
to focus on the task, 
rather than looking back to admire your handiwork. 
And in the process, make a mess of things.

What is the task Jesus has for us to focus on? It is the Kingdom. 
You and I are united with Jesus in this life, heading for eternity. 
Don’t let anything slow you down! 
Don’t let sin and bad habits and distractions 
come between us and Jesus.

Our mission is to get to heaven,
and bring as many others with us as we can. 
To the extent that we can, 
we bring the law of the Kingdom into this world – 
because Jesus isn’t just king of heaven, 
he is the rightful king of this world as well.

But we keep our focus. 

So, for example, a lot of us are paying attention 
to national and world events; 
there are elections later this year that are important, 
and we have a voice and a vote. 
God calls us to live in this world according to the truth of Christ, 
but you and I are in this world as wayfarers, as pilgrims. 
We aren’t going to make a paradise on this earth. 

So, while we pay attention, we don’t get bogged down. 
Don’t get angry; don’t get worked up. 
If you find that happening, turn off the TV, and instead, get prayed up! 
Keep our focus on Jesus! 
He is the only one who will save us, no one else.

Last Friday, I was so happy to see 
over a hundred men and boys of all ages come out 
for our first Men’s Prayer Walk. 
It was a good time of friendship; and the cookout was great, 
with good food and games. 
But what was the focus? 
Prayer; and lifting up Jesus Christ before our community, 
and praying for him to bless the people of our parish. 

I walked right behind the older boys 
who were taking turns lifting up the Cross. That was the focus. 
And it seemed like all those taking part understood that.

This coming Friday, we have a group of folks 
who are going to be keeping vigil in the church, 
after the First Friday Mass. 
They will be praying for conversion, seeking to consecrate themselves, 
and our world, more deeply to the Two Hearts: 
the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. 
You are welcome to come and join in. 
Our focus is Jesus – bringing him, as much as we can, to our world; 
and bringing as many people in our families, 
and our community, to Jesus.