Longing for heaven (Ascension homily)

 Today’s feast of the Ascension is often misunderstood.

To put it bluntly: this feast is NOT about Jesus leaving us. 

Rather, it’s about where Jesus wants to TAKE us: 

he goes ahead of us, to heaven. And that’s the point:

The Ascension is about heaven; Jesus wants to take us to heaven.

There are two ways you and I can go wrong here.

First, a lot of folks take going to heaven for granted, 

pretty much no matter what. 

And that makes a lot of Christianity incomprehensible.

If everyone’s headed to heaven, there’s no real urgency.

No need to change; no need for conversion or confession.

In fact, no need for the Mass or prayer.

I might point out that while lots of people say, 

“don’t worry, we’ll all meet in heaven,” 

The Lord Jesus is notably not someone who says that.

Jesus doesn’t say, “go to sleep,” he says, “Wake up!”

He never says, “set the cruise control,” he says, “Watch and pray!”

That’s what he said in today’s readings to the Apostles.

In a few days he would give them the Holy Spirit.

Till then, they were to watch and pray;

After that, everything changes.

The other way we can miss the point is not taking heaven seriously.

This world demands our constant attention.

The electric bill doesn’t pay itself.

The boss will notice if you don’t come back from the weekend.

Still, Jesus wants us to lift our gaze regularly.

the reason he gave us the Holy Spirit and the Mass,

the reason he tells us to watch and pray,

and the reason he ascended to heaven,

was all to turn our longing for eternal life.

Lots of things in this life are pretty awesome:

That’s a foretaste of heaven.

But many other things in this world aren’t so good.

Now, if those rough parts are purgatory, that’s hopeful.

But: if this world is as good as it gets, isn’t that kind of sad?

If I’m as good as I can get;

If the best years for my knees and my eyes are behind me?

That is very sad.

The challenge is this: how can you and I long for heaven 

if we have no inkling of what it might be like?

Now, there are many things Jesus tells us about heaven. 

The Book of Revelation describes heaven.

Many saints have written about heaven.

The great poet Dante wrote about hell, purgatory, and Paradise.

So, there’s a lot we could draw from.

I’d like to suggest some spiritual homework:

Take some time to think about this: What IS heaven like?

Maybe look for some reading material.

What if – as the military slogan goes –

You and I really could be “all we can be”?

Really to be full of the Holy Spirit; really generous; really peaceful.

Really balanced and disciplined and virtuous?

What would that be like?

Here’s an image I have of heaven.

You and I all have those moments that seem so perfect:

A perfect time at the beach, or a perfect game with our friends;

a perfect cup of coffee or bowl of cereal on a beautiful morning, 

the sun, the sky, the breeze, everything is just right.

It only lasts for some bit; then the coffee is all gone, 

or if you have more, you won’t enjoy it.

The sun rises higher and gets too hot;

Or it gets too late, and your friends have to go home.

Those are foretastes.

And what St. Augustine somewhere described 

was a moment that will last, not just a moment, but forever. 

And he said, that’s heaven!

There’s my image of heaven.

What’s yours?

The package of gifts that is the 'Paschal Mystery' (Sunday homily)

 There is a big picture to what is going on in the readings. 

Let me try to sketch it out for you.

You will often hear in the prayers at Mass a term, “Paschal Mystery.”

And you may not want to admit, you’re not sure what that means.

Here’s what it means. There is a whole package – a series – 

of good things God has done for us.

God planned to come among us – as one of us – to bring hope and life. 

Not just limited to this world, but eternal life.

Part of that plan always was for Jesus to take the path of suffering, all the way to the Cross.

His death on the Cross takes away our sins. 

Of course he could have done it another way, 

but that is the way God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit – decided would be best.

Jesus rose from the dead in his human body. That’s the Resurrection. 

That’s essential because that proves his word is true, 

and it shows us the eternal life you and I will have.

After his resurrection, Jesus sets in motion more of the plan: 

the outpouring of the Holy Spirit.

And with the gift of the Holy Spirit comes 

the empowering of the Apostles; the Body of Christ, 

the community of believers on earth, which we call the Church. 

Through the Apostles and the Church, 

we have the seven sacraments – each giving us divine life. 

And the Holy Spirit is the one who empowers the Apostles – 

and their successors, the bishops – 

to be the messengers of Christ’s teaching. 

That doesn’t mean the bishops are better than you and I are, 

or less sinful, or smarter, or anything else. 

It means that for the benefit of the faithful – you and me – as needed, 

God keeps them on track. 

We’d like it if God prevented bishops from making any bad decisions! 

Parish priests as well! But that’s a lot to ask. 

So instead, what God does is keep the bishops – the pope in particular – 

from teaching error in matters of faith and morals.

This is where we often use the term, “magisterium,” 

which means the bishops’ role of teaching; 

and the term “infallibility,” which means God’s guardrails 

to keep the Church from going into the ditch.

So – think of all this as a lot of gifts, all in nice wrapping paper.

All these gifts are part of the “Paschal Mystery.”

And, really, there’s still more: that which lies ahead, 

which is when all the faithful have been gathered into the Kingdom, 

and we have a new heavens and a new earth. 

All that, together, makes up the Paschal Mystery.

This whole package is what the Holy Mass – on the Lord’s Day, Sunday – 

exists to make real for each of us, 

so that you and I don’t get lost and disconnected.

Occasionally I see an ad on TV or the Internet that says,

you need more fruit, more vegetables, 

and since that’s hard, here’s a capsule! 

Take this every day, and you get it all!

And, in a sense, that’s what the sacraments are for you and me.

They are the “capsule” that “contains” all these gifts God has for us.

Baptism: you take that “capsule” just one time; now God lives in you!

Confirmation, which we see in the first reading, 

“seals” all God’s gifts in us with the Holy Spirit. 

We only need that once.

Confession: take that frequently, as needed, 

to revive the life of God in us, 

when you and I wound or even kill it with venial or mortal sin.

And then we come to the Eucharist – 

which many of our children are receiving today for the first time.

Like a vitamin pill, the Sacred Host is small; 

sometimes people who can’t swallow 

will take even smaller portion of the Host.

And when you and I receive the Precious Blood, we only need a sip.

The full reality of what – and Who – the Eucharist is,

far exceeds anything our minds can grasp.

Sometimes people will say, maybe second grade is too early, 

because you are too young to understand it.

But let me tell you: NO ONE can truthfully claim 

to understand the gift of the Eucharist! 

Here’s better news: you don’t have to pass a test!

That’s why I emphasize that God’s gift is really a bundle of gifts, 

and ultimately, it’s all the Gift of God himself.

God doesn’t need or expect you and me to “understand” fully.

It’s good to try, and God helps us go deeper and higher.

Even in heaven, you and I will still gaze at Jesus and realize,

there is still more of the gift to unwrap and discover.

Today is when our second graders unwrap one of the gifts.

As they do – as each of us is privileged to be with them,

this is a moment for us adults to learn from our second graders.

Boys and girls, pray for the rest of us, 

that each of us will follow your good example of hungering for Jesus, 

your reverence, and your capacity for wonder.

Sometimes we get where we think, “I’ve seen it all.”

What a mistake! There’s always more to the Gift.

What communion *really* means (Sunday homily)

 Notice what’s going on in the readings…

Saint Peter told us that God is building a very special house: 

you and I are “living stones.”

Then, notice Jesus also mentions a house: 

the Father’s House, and it has lots and lots of rooms.

And Jesus also told us that the way to get there is he, himself. 

He’s the heavenly GPS.

But then notice, with all that hopeful talk, there is a problem.

We heard it in the first reading.

Prejudice and division among the first Christians: 

“We! They! They’re different; we don’t like them! It’s unfair!”

Ha! Some things never change! 

This makes a point: if the business of turning people into saints, 

and making this world the Paradise God wants it to be, were easy, 

then the job would have been finished a long, long time ago!

So, for example, maybe Jesus wouldn’t have created the sacraments; 

he could have just sent us a membership card.

But he didn’t do that. 

And notice, while we only get baptized once, 

we don’t only go to confession once;

we don’t take part in Mass only once, and receive the Eucharist once;

at least, that’s not how it is meant to work.

He knew we’d need a lot more than that.

Today some of our children will have their First Holy Communion.

But I want to explain something you may not realize.

In reality, you have already had communion.

I say that because in the full, real sense,

Our communion begins with baptism.

“Communion” isn’t just an event on a calendar; 

It isn’t just a special occasion.

“Communion” is actually a simple word that means “union with.”

What we really mean is that “communion” 

is that state of fundamentally being together; being one.

The perfect, fullest communion is God himself: 

Father, Son and Holy Spirit. They are totally, completely one.

The reason Jesus does all he’s doing is to share that total, 

complete oneness of the Father and Son and Holy Spirit, with us.

And again, if that were a simple thing, it would be like, 

“I’m taking a shower, presto-chango, yay, now I’m a saint!”

But instead, it’s a journey. The seed of faith is planted and grows.

Baptism, confirmation, frequent confession, Sunday Mass,

Our family, our friends, we pray together, we help each other…

And little by little, you and I go from being chunky blocks 

with sharp edges that can’t fit together – “ouch!”…

To well-shaped stones that fit; that cooperate.

And the mortar that holds it all together is love.

I don’t just mean the emotion, the feeling; that’s not the whole story.

Love is a choice, a series of choices, that don’t always feel good.

Boys and girls, your parents get up every day, 

usually earlier than they want to.

They work hard to make a home and provide what you need.

There are a lot things our parents would love to have; 

but what the family needs comes first.

When my mom did the laundry, or my dad paid the bills,

They didn’t feel exactly…”good.” 

But those – and a million other choices my parents, 

and your parents make – equals love.

It’s hard to become truly loving and truly generous.

And notice, Peter didn’t call us marshmallows – which are soft!

He called us “stones.” They’re hard!

It takes a lot of hammer blows and patience to reshape that stone.

And if a stone has feelings, that would hurt!

So maybe now we can understand better why Jesus did what he did.

He didn’t just send you and me a card; 

he didn’t just say, “here are the instructions.” 

No. God himself came to us, as one of us.

He said, I’m going to lay down my life for you – and he died!

That’s not love-talk, that’s love-action. The fullest possible.

And now, in the Mass, and the Eucharist, 

he continues to lay down his life for you and me.

That’s why this isn’t just bread or wine. What’s the value of that?

No: this truly is Jesus giving us EVERYTHING. His own self!

And the Eucharist is the heavenly food that – if received in faith – 

will change us, making us heavenly. 

So, dear children, realize that today isn’t about just this day.

This isn’t “one-and-done.” Communion, by it’s very nature, 

can’t leave us off on our own, but draws us in, closer and closer…

To heaven!

Why the Eucharist *has* to be Jesus' Body and Blood (Sunday homily)

 This Sunday is called “Shepherd Sunday” because of the readings.

The Gospel is from Jesus, the Perfect Shepherd, of course; 

but the first reading and the second reading feature Saint Peter, 

an imperfect shepherd.

And that’s what I am! That’s why I find Peter very consoling. 

Since Jesus was able to work with him, 

I am more confident he can work through me.

This Sunday – and this time of year – 

is usually when our second graders come to Holy Communion 

the first time. For you second-graders, I bet you’re nervous. 

It’s going to be just fine! 

Your parents and I will take good care of you. 

You see, that’s our job. That’s what we do as shepherds.

Notice in the Gospel, Jesus talked about other people.

He mentioned a “thief” and a “robber” – 

those are kind of the same thing – and he mentioned a “stranger.”

And Jesus’ point is, he is not any of those things.

Sometimes people think God wants to take things from us.

To take our freedom or to take away things we like to do.

The truth is, Jesus only takes away what hurts us.

Above all, he takes our sins away, otherwise, they will kill us.

Jesus is no thief! He doesn’t steal anything. He gives.

And right here, this is why it is absolutely necessary 

to know that the Holy Eucharist is not a mere symbol, 

and it absolutely is not merely bread or wine. 

Actually, when the priest stands at the altar, 

and Jesus speaks through the priest, 

the bread and wine cease to exist.

In their place are Jesus’ own Body and Blood.

And I was going to say, here is why that is so essential:

Because of what I just said:

Jesus doesn’t come to steal; he comes to give.

And isn’t it obvious that there’s a world of difference 

between saying Jesus gives us bread and wine – versus,

Jesus gives us his own Body and Blood?

Anyone can give you a snack; or a symbol – like a picture.

But that’s not what the Eucharist is.

Jesus gives each of us his whole, entire self.

So when you and I share Holy Communion – 

in faith, in a state of grace – 

then there simply is nothing else to receive.

Jesus giving himself means, he gives everything!

On Christmas, we all love to get lots of presents, right?

It’s wonderful to find yet another one under the tree.

But imagine getting a gift that was so amazing, so awesome, 

you didn’t even want any other gift after that!

That’s what the Holy Eucharist is! Because the Eucharist is Jesus.

Boys and girls, I want to thank you.

You don’t realize how much the rest of us need to be here with you.

We need to be reminded of how wonderful this Gift is.

Your good example today reminds us not to take this for granted.

Not to be casual or sloppy when we take part.

The rest of us need to follow your good example.

You know lots of people are praying for you.

I ask you to pray for me, and the rest of us, 

that each of us will hunger for Jesus the way you do.

And, I want you to know that as important as today is,

it isn’t your First Communion that matters the most.

No: it’s your last Communion. 

What we want is to receive Jesus in the Eucharist 

at the end of our life here, then close our eyes, 

and when we reopen them, we see Jesus!

Of course, none of us knows when that last communion will happen.

So we keep coming. Sunday after Sunday.

You and I need help to stay on track.

And we don’t want to treat Jesus as a stranger.

How can we not keep coming, for the greatest of Gifts?

No Eucharist without the Mass (Sunday homily)

 In this Gospel about a journey to Emmaus,

there’s so much here to notice.

The last line is so memorable: 

“they recognized him in the breaking of the Bread.”

But don’t miss all that preceded that awakening.

Jesus took pains to focus their gaze on Good Friday.

There’s no Eucharist without the Sacrifice; 

there’s no Eucharist without the Mass.

The blunt truth is that there is widespread misunderstanding 

about the Eucharist and the Mass, 

even among the most active Catholics.

We all know we have a grave obligation 

to attend Mass on the Lord’s Day.

But the point of that obligation is not to receive Communion.

I repeat: receiving Holy Communion is not the point of that.

No, the point is the Mass itself; being here, with each other, 

and being united to Jesus’ sacrifice, 

which happens even if we don’t receive the Eucharist.

This may sound odd, but it really is possible 

to focus on the Eucharist in the wrong way. 

Some people emphasize receiving the Eucharist, 

and forget about the awesome reality of the Mass.

I remember someone asking me – in another parish – 

if I could do more of those 

“really short Masses without all the stuff in the middle.”

In other words, she just wanted a communion service – no Mass!

If you or I key in on the Eucharist 

such that you forget about the Mass,

that is like focusing so much on the child, 

that you forget there must be a mother and father.

No mom plus dad means no baby.

No sacrifice by Jesus means no Eucharist.

Remember that the Eucharist is not so much a “what” as a “Who.”

You and I don’t merely “receive” Communion; we share it.

“Communion” isn’t an object; it is a relationship.

Husband and wife – that is a communion. Friendship is a communion.

The relationship between Father, Son and Holy Spirit 

is the supreme communion;

and that is what Jesus brings us into through the Eucharist.

I’m sorry to say, 

but I suspect a lot of Catholics just go through the motions.

That includes priests, by the way.

It’s so easy to get too familiar; too casual.

So, I’m just going to say,

if you’re walking up in the line without reflection,

maybe hold back, go deeper, and come another time?

Do you realize the importance of what we’re doing here?

The totality of God’s Plan for salvation is summed up and made present.

Here. For you and me.

Do you realize when you are given the Eucharist, 

you are face-to-face with your Creator? 

Face to face!

This is also a good time to mention something else.

Some folks have asked about the distribution of the Precious Blood.

And my answer is, making that change at Our Lady of Good Hope 

and at St. Henry involves more planning than you may realize. 

In my judgment, now is not a good time to take on that project.

Meanwhile, the Precious Blood is distributed at St. Mary,

at every Mass. So there’s no problem, no waiting.

Further, let me remind people: you receive the Precious Blood 

every single time you share in the Eucharist. Every single time.

Back to my main theme: this isn’t about thing we get, 

but a life that is shared with you and me. God’s own life. 

Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

That divine life poured from Jesus’ side on the Cross.

Each and every Mass, we are there.

What does the Resurrection have to do with us? (Divine Mercy homily)

 Today is Divine Mercy Sunday – 

a designation that Pope Saint John Paul II gave it a few years ago, 

based on the messages Saint Faustina Kowalska received from Jesus; 

so you would expect me to talk about that. 

But it is also the second Sunday of Easter, 

which means it’s about the Resurrection. 

So let’s start there, and connect that to Divine Mercy.

They aren’t separate things; 

because the mercy that we look for from Jesus Christ is only possible, 

it is only real, if the Resurrection is real. 

One reason why the Resurrection matters 

is because it gives us ground for believing Jesus is who he said he is, 

and will do what he said you will do. 

The Resurrection is a reminder 

that we Christians propose a faith not only of ideas, but of facts. 

God became man at a certain time, in a certain place; 

that God-Man walked the earth in Palestine, 

he said things people wrote down, and then, at a certain point, 

he was arrested, beaten, tried, executed…

and on the third day, his body came back to life. 

These are bold claims of fact, which – 

if they are not true, then Christianity is false, 

and you and I should find something else to do on Sundays.

And, if it didn’t happen, 

then surely those first Christians would not be so stupid 

as to pretend that it happened anyway – all the way to being martyred!?

So Thomas’ response in the Gospel makes perfect sense.

You may recall when Jesus told the Apostles that Lazarus had died,

Thomas said, “let’s go die with him.”

But Thomas is not going to die for a rumor.

He wants to be able to say: “I put my hands in his side!”

One more point. 

What Jesus shows us in his risen, glorified body isn’t only about him; it’s about us. 

He shows what you and I can look forward to with confidence.

Jesus not only promised to rise from the dead himself; 

he promised to call us back to life as well. 

You and I will experience the very same – the exact same – resurrection as Jesus. 

Our bodies will, one day, come back to life, 

and our souls and bodies will be reunited. We will live forever. 

A lot of people – including many Christians – 

have gotten the idea that the body doesn’t matter.

Whether it’s what happens to the body after death, 

or the current “transgender” phenomenon that claims identity 

is determined by subjective beliefs, regardless of bodily facts.

This is an interesting intersection of science and faith.

Biology is science; it’s not a set of beliefs.

For us as Christians, we not only accept science,

it is an article of our Faith that our bodies 

are as much who we are as our souls.

God could have created us like angels, without bodies. But he did not.

You and I will have our bodies back, so we always treat them as sacred.

That’s why, even in death, we always bury the deceased in the ground, 

even after cremation.

But don’t worry, when you and I get our bodies back,

We will no longer be subject to the frailties we experience now.

No more eyeglasses, pills or braces.

Now let’s talk about Divine Mercy.

God gives us every reason for hope.

Jesus did not only promise us eternal life, he showed it to us.

This is why we love the words Saint Faustina 

includes on her image of Divine Mercy, 

and we make them our own:

“Jesus, I trust in thee!”

'I believe in one Metaphor...' (Easter homily)

 Last night, in this church and around the world, 

we celebrated the great Vigil of the Resurrection.

Most people don’t come; it’s not easy, I understand.

I encourage you, next year, plan to come.

The Vigil of the Resurrection illuminates our Faith in a powerful way.

At the center of a long, complicated Mass

comes the baptism, confirmation and first Holy Communion 

of those who were led by God’s grace to make their act of faith.

It is a bracing experience – and humbling – 

to behold men and women and families come to be baptized, 

late on a Saturday night. They could have gone to bed.

Now, on the morning of the Resurrection, you and I are here.

In a moment, we will do something we always do on Easter morning; 

that is, the renewal of our vows of baptism.

You didn’t get a choice when you were baptized as a baby.

But now you do. Let’s reflect a moment. 

In the off chance that what I’m about to say was never clear:

The Resurrection – by which I mean, a dead body coming to life again – 

is not a metaphor.

This time of year, we hear a lot of talk 

about the metaphor of new birth, renewal, winter-to-spring…

supposedly, that’s what the rabbit and the eggs are about.

Look it up later if you get bored.

Also, sometimes people say, oh isn’t it a lovely story?

Just to be clear: we don’t believe in Jesus as a “comforting story.”

Lots of things about the Christian Faith aren’t “comforting.”

Nor does Christianity make things easier. 

A lot of short-cuts are blocked by the Ten Commandments.

No, there is only one reason to believe; and that is, it is true!

So, I might lose someone here, but:

If you say you’re a Christian, 

but you don’t believe the Resurrection really happened, then…

that’s really dumb.

If the Resurrection didn’t happen, then Christianity is pointless.

It’s not a metaphor. Jesus really rose from the dead.

Believe it, or don’t believe it, but don’t try to soften it.

It might be nice to have a set of gauzy, pretty, comforting notions 

that make us feel like we live in a Precious Moments calendar.

But when the Apostles met Jesus after he rose, 

that’s not what it was like!

First they scoffed, then they quaked in fear; 

and then they fell to their knees and said, “My Lord and my God!”

I can’t imagine meeting someone who I saw die, and he was alive again. 

But there could be nothing half-way about my reaction, or yours.

Either we are all-out; or all-in.

 

Right now, being a Catholic puts us 

at sharp right angles to the world around us, 

and it’s difficult. But it was always that way.

They used to feed us to the lions.

Today you and are unwelcome witnesses for human dignity, 

especially at the beginning and the end of life.

We bear witness to the fact of human identity, male and female.

Many seek to discover themselves in themselves.

You and I profess that we can only discover ourselves in our Creator. 

This angularity – the uncomfortableness of being Christian – 

fits with the same angularity, the shock of how Jesus saved us.

It wasn’t soft and pleasant. He died; brutally.

The clarity of that death forecloses any fudging the Resurrection.

Remember: they looked for his wounds.

Of those who met the Resurrected Jesus, 

almost every one of them didn’t want to believe it!

Their lives would have been so much easier if Jesus had stayed dead.

And then in their turn, one by one, 

they were killed because they did not lie, and they could not deny.

So, now, you and I declare our faith.

Not in a story. Not in a metaphor. In the Fact.

This Easter Vigil is for you (homily)

 As you surely notice, the Vigil of Easter is unlike any other Mass.

It is longer, of course; and it is supposed to be still longer; 

we aren’t using all the readings . . . this year. 

Back in the day, the vigil started much later, and it went until dawn.

The readings trace God’s saving grace in relation to human wandering, 

from the beginning, to Abraham, the Jewish People, 

down to the coming of Jesus.

After all that, in the deep darkness, 

those becoming Christians would be baptized and confirmed, 

and only after that would they participate in the Eucharist.

Now: think about the timing here.

Reception of the Holy Eucharist comes nearly at the end of Mass, 

so the priest showing the Lord to the faithful – saying, 

“Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world; 

blessed are those called to the Supper of the Lamb” – 

that would happen just before sunrise.

In other words, it coincides with the Resurrection!

So for you being baptized tonight, this vigil is all for you.

For the rest of us – including those who were baptized 

in other Christian communities, 

and tonight enter into the fullness of the Catholic Faith – 

this is a re-experiencing, a rediscovery of these mysteries.

We call them mysteries, by the way, 

because the Apostle Paul and the first Christians called them that. 

The word “mystery” suggests something hidden and inaccessible; 

and that’s the point: Jesus gives us access!

The veil is torn in two; heaven is open; you and I are born again!

The other thing about a divine mystery 

is that pulling aside one veil doesn’t “solve” it. 

With God’s creation and redemption, there is always more. 

So the long vigil is meant to reinforce 

that exploring this mystery goes on, 

as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.

That is one reason why – 

although we are baptized and confirmed only once – 

you and I re-encounter these mysteries each year at this time, 

each Lord’s Day, and even every day.

In a few minutes, the deacon and I will lead you to the font.

The Easter Candle, the pillar of fire, goes before you.

Unlike pharaoh who perished in the sea, 

because he hardened his heart, you are led safely through!

In baptism, you die: with Christ.

We all die; but this is the death you and I choose: 

with Jesus, accepting his cross and making it our own.

Every time you make the sign of the cross, 

Every time you bless yourself with holy water, you remind yourself:

I died with Christ, and through him, I will rise again!

So I want to be very clear and serious here:

this moment is a fork in the road, an ending and a beginning.

I will ask you to renounce sin and the vanities of this world.

I will ask you if you believe

in God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, 

and in the faith given to us through the Apostles.

Before you answer those questions, I must warn you:

to be a Christian has always been costly.

There has always been a tug-of-war 

between the kingdoms of this world, 

the kingdom of our own will, and the kingdom of Jesus.

And if no one ever told you this, I tell you now:

your choice of allegiance to Jesus Christ and his Kingdom,

which is in this world, imperfectly, in his Church:

that choice will cost you, sooner or later.

It may seem over-dramatic to speak of martyrdom; 

we’re in Ohio after all, not ancient Rome!

But martyrdom comes in a thousand small, daily, tedious choices 

long before it becomes some great climactic witness.

Probably none of us will ever stand before a guillotine; 

but every one of us faces the refrigerator, the computer, 

and the emperor that is our own will.

Not a firing squad, but criticism from coworkers, friends and family, 

is what chills our blood and shakes our resolve.

So, why should anyone profess this faith? Why should you?

On behalf of the faithful, some of whom are gathered around you, 

and on my own behalf as a Christian, I testify:

God has acted in time and history.

Jesus, the Son of God, having our same flesh,

revealed to us a Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

For our salvation, he embraced the Cross. 

He truly died and rose, in his mortal body, from the dead.

He is the judge of all mankind, to whom he offers not only mercy, 

but new life, fullness of life, and union with God, 

in the resurrection and the new world to come.

Jesus, risen from the dead, is the true and faithful witness!

He drew you here and he invites you to life.

The pivot of history (Good Friday homily)

 This day, which stands at the center of our Sacred Three Days,

Is the day of all days.

Good Friday--the Cross--stands at the center of time; 

and all Creation, all history, 

revolves around it as the earth revolves on its axis.

Thus everyone, without exception, 

must come and stand before the Cross. 

That is the meaning of the Final Judgment each human soul will face.

So it is a mercy that God has draws us here, now,

while you and I can still be changed by it.

We see the Cross, and we ask “Why?” 

Be very clear: No one made Jesus do this. 

The Father did not make his Son do this.

Before time, Father, Son and Holy Spirit knew man would sin. 

God saw it all, 

From the vanity and self-importance,

Wrath and pride, lust and greed and gluttony;

To the cruelty people visit on each other large and small,

From Cain and Abel, to Hitler and Mao,

To the crack of a whip, the prison of a slum, 

The office of an abortion doctor, 

and all the uncountable forms of our indifference.

Before anything began, God saw it all…

And He went ahead. He chose to create us.

And he chose to become one of us.

Was there no other way but the Cross? 

Of course there was. God chose this way. 

Remember—God didn’t invent the Cross—humanity did. 

Had God never become man, 

man would still have faced a cross, but now alone; 

and it would have been all death with no life.

St. Thomas tells us the Cross was “too much”: 

“Any suffering of his, however slight, 

was enough to redeem the human race…” 

The Cross is God’s exclamation mark 

on the sheer extravagance of his mercy.

God did the maximum where the minimum 

would already have been generous!

Archbishop Fulton Sheen said this:

“I tell you that if God had not come down …

and given us the supreme example of sacrifice, 

then it would be possible for fathers and mothers, 

men and women of countless ages, 

to do something greater, it would seem, 

than God himself could do, namely, 

lay down their lives for a friend.”

Why the Cross? 

Consider an amazing image from our late Holy Father,

Pope Saint John Paul the Great:

God came to earth—so man could put God on trial—

so that man could forgive God.

Our late pope asked, "Could God have justified himself 

before human history, so full of suffering, 

without placing Christ’s Cross at the center of that history? 

"Obviously, one response could be 

that God does not need to justify himself to man. 

It is enough that he is omnipotent. 

From this perspective everything he does or allows 

must be accepted. 

"But God, who besides being Omnipotence is Wisdom and—

to repeat once again—Love, 

desires to justify himself to mankind.

"He is not the Absolute that remains outside 

of the world, indifferent to human suffering. 

He is Emmanuel, God-with-us, 

a God who shares man’s lot 

and participates in his destiny.

"The crucified Christ is proof of God’s solidarity 

with man in his suffering."

We blame God—God does not argue. 

He comes to us—offers himself for trial. 

Pilate presides—and we are in that court as jury. 

We found him guilty; we sentenced him to death.

The price is paid. God himself atones. 

God and man are reconciled.

We see the horror of the Cross; we see the horror of human evil; 

and we wonder—can man be saved?

The Cross is our answer.

It is God saying “Yes.”

One eternal moment (Holy Thursday)

 A few years ago, I made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land,

and I had the awesome privilege of walking the streets of Jerusalem 

along the real, original Way of the Cross;

And I was able to be at the place of the Last Supper, 

and the Garden of Gethsemane and Golgotha, and the empty tomb.

I was with other priests, and we had Mass – at Calvary! Right there!

Now, because it is God’s work and not merely a human work,

The Mass is the Mass is the Mass, wherever and whenever.

Every single Mass brings us to Calvary – every single one.

Nevertheless, when you and I come to this evening, this time of year, 

if we realize what we’re doing, there is something electric about it.

All of Lent has been a journey to this moment. 

We have prayed, fasted and shared our blessings with others, 

so that we, like the Apostles, 

can prepare to celebrate the Passover with the Lord.

Normally the Passover was celebrated as a family event; 

instead, Jesus was keeping the Passover with these chosen men. 

No one else was present.

The Passover, remember, was first celebrated in Egypt.

God’s People were slaves; and on the night of the Passover, 

God executed judgment against Egypt, and Israel left in haste.

But in order to understand fully the Sacrifice of the Mass, 

it helps to recall what happens when God brings his People to Mt. Sinai.

There, God instructs Moses not only in the Ten Commandments, 

but also in all the details of worship: 

how the place of worship was to be arranged, the altar constructed, 

and how the sacrifices are to be offered.

After all this, Moses leads the elders of Israel up Sinai, 

to ratify the covenant. And the Scripture says, 

“They saw God, and they ate and drank” the sacrifice.

Think about that in relation to the Last Supper – and the Mass:

“They saw God and they ate and drank.”

Did you ever wonder why the altar is traditionally elevated?

As at Sinai, we go up to see God.

In a few minutes, at this altar, as your priest and on your behalf,

I will address the God of Sinai.

And when you and I sing, “Holy, Holy, Holy,” 

we are joining armies of angels adoring Almighty God;

the same angels who beheld Calvary happen with amazement.

When some of us were kids, there was a TV show, “You are there,” 

and it took you back to some moment in the past.

But this is way beyond any TV show.

You and I, brothers and sisters, really are there!

At Calvary, and in heaven, all at once.

So listen to the Eucharistic Prayer in a few minutes.

This is the prayer that comes from the early Church.

At a certain point, the priest says, “Graciously accept this oblation” –

what is an oblation? 

An oblation is an offering of food and wine, from the people to God.

It stands for you. You, and your prayers, works, joys and sufferings, 

go to the altar in that bread and wine.

The priest extends his hands like this. 

That is meant to suggest a dove – that is, the Holy Spirit.

In the Old Testament, God’s Fire would come down upon the sacrifice. 

On the Day of Pentecost, God’s Fire came down upon the Church.

In the Mass, it is the Holy Spirit that makes our human offerings

“become for us the Body and Blood of [the] beloved Son, Jesus Christ.”

The priest then recalls the words of Jesus at the Last Supper.

Realize: every word of this prayer is addressed to God.

Of course, you are listening, but it’s not you I’m speaking to;

And at a certain point, it isn’t exactly me, but really Jesus, who speaks.

At the Last Supper, Jesus’ disciples would not have been surprised 

had the Lord pointed to the body of the lamb – on the table – 

to talk about covenant and sacrifice.

But that’s not what happened.

Jesus took up, not the lamb, but rather, bread and the wine, and said:

This is my Body, given for you, this is my Blood, 

of the new and eternal covenant – eat and drink!

This was new. No one had ever done that before.

Then on the Cross, he completes the sacrifice.

He takes a last sip of wine, offered on a sponge and says, 

“It is finished.”

And after the Resurrection, he showed himself alive,

and that’s when the Apostles understood; our Holy Mass is the result.

We do this sacrifice, as he commanded, in memory of Him.

Notice the priest lifts up the Body, and then the Blood.

This is a Sacrifice: Christ offers himself to the Father.

And it isn’t merely past – it is now and eternal.

Jesus is the eternal High Priest.

Also, the separation of body and blood recalls his death.

When the priest later puts a part of the Sacred Host into the chalice,

That signifies Christ’s Body and Blood being “together” – 

pointing to his Resurrection.

After you sing, recognizing the mystery of faith before you,

you hear the priest beg the Father 

to accept this “pure victim, this holy victim.”

We know, of course, that the Father will accept this Sacrifice;

yet this summarizes the whole drama of salvation.

Without that acceptance, without Jesus, none of us can be saved. 

This moment – I mean, tonight; and I mean, the Mass; 

and, the Upper Room and Calvary and the Resurrection,

and heaven when all is complete –

this is all one eternal “moment” made present at Mass,

and it is the pivot point of all history.

Tonight, you and I are there. 

The Blood of the Lamb protects us. 

The flesh of the Lamb is our salvation.

Why doesn't Jesus spare us from suffering? (Sunday homily)

 Hearing this reading can raise an uncomfortable question in our minds. 

That is: if Jesus was willing to do this for Lazarus and others 

we hear about in the Gospels, why doesn’t he do it for us? 

Someone we love gets sick, and not only does our loved one 

go through so many trials, so does everyone around them. 

I could paint a picture, but we all know how awful this is.

And, if you don’t know what I’m talking about, 

your turn to be where Martha and Mary were – 

to say the same things they said, 

to feel their bone-weariness and to shed their tears?

 That moment eventually comes for each of us.

So you or I might easily ask with Martha: 

Lord, why didn’t you come sooner?

The hard truth is, you and I are not promised 

to be saved FROM suffering. 

If only, if only! But that’s not the deal. 

As we approach Holy Week and Good Friday, 

instead of avoiding this topic, let’s you and I face it squarely. 

The Cross puts suffering right in the center.

No, let me say that differently. 

Suffering was already at the center of human experience. 

What Christ does is put God and his salvation right there, 

in the middle of human pain. 

Jesus puts himself there. On the Cross, of course!

So, yes: Jesus could have spared Lazarus and Mary and Martha.

He could spare each of us. (Shrug.)

This calls to mind one of the great temptations today; 

and we see it in Europe, and in Canada, and it’s spreading in our country:

The idea that you and I should just die rather than suffer.

So we’re seeing spreading efforts 

to make it legal to give people a drug to kill them.

I’m not minimizing pain and suffering. 

But what you and I must say clearly is that it is false – false! – 

to claim that human life is made worthless by suffering.

We saw something of that during Covid. We isolated from one another. 

Many of our elderly were cut off from all personal contact 

with friends and loved ones. And what happened? 

We were trying to keep them “safe” – that’s laudable. 

But it was damaging! 

People – not just the elderly, but at all ages – 

were depressed, disoriented, overcome with sadness. 

Here again, we learn: 

life isn’t better when all danger and suffering are kept at bay. 

I realize this could sound callous but:

Sometimes the trials and suffering you and I experience – 

like Martha, like Mary, like Lazarus – 

aren’t something to be saved from – 

because they are what ends up saving us!

And that may be one reason why Jesus didn’t come and rescue Lazarus, 

and why he doesn’t simply spare us from the same path.

He isn’t just saving you and me for more of this life – 

but for eternal life.

As you and I enter the home stretch of Lent, and approach Holy Week, 

now is a great time to ask ourselves: 

do I really want to hang on to this life – 

which will slip away no matter what, or:

Will I walk with Jesus the road of dying to self, 

dying to this world, that I may share in his Resurrection? 

Why not run to confession? (Sunday homily)

 Of all the people in the Gospel who couldn’t see,

the one man who was healed:

Did you notice, he was only one who,

without question or delay,

simply went and did as the Lord said?

Everyone else tried to analyze, argue or deny.

That’s not to say we can’t ask questions.

If your or I saw someone who was blind, now able to see,

we’d have questions as well.

Yet, there comes a point when we know:

no more delays—just go!

When I was 19, I left the Catholic Church,

And joined another church. I came back 10 years later.

Over that time, I had questions,

I debated and wrestled—and that was right.

But, there came a moment, and I remember it vividly.

It was during Lent: as I drove home from work one day,

past a Catholic church, I heard the question in my head:

“What holds you back?” And I knew: “Nothing, Lord.”

A day or two later,

I went to confession for the first time in 10 years.

So, how about you? Are you holding back, or delaying,

on something you know the Lord wants you to do?

For a lot of us, that’s what happens

with the sacrament of penance.

It’s no great mystery why that happens.

Not many of us want to admit our sins,

especially to another human being.

Maybe we get discouraged,

Or we rationalize, I’m doing pretty good.

I go through exactly the same thing.

Again, the blind man could have had all the same feelings.

Did you notice, he didn’t ask to be healed?

Maybe he’d gotten used to it, or had given up hope.

He could have asked, “why this business with the clay?

Can’t you heal me without that?”

Instead, he simply went and did what the Lord asked.

He, and he alone, was healed.

So—for the sacrament of penance—just go!

There are a lot of opportunities for confession this week, 

and every week through to the Easter Vigil.

Just look in the bulletin – it’s all there!

The other priests and I are eager to provide you 

the spiritual healing that comes in the sacrament of penance.

The blind man in the Gospel,

after the Lord put clay over his eyes,

and sent him to the pool:

what might he have been thinking?

I don’t know, but: if he felt certain he would be healed,

then we can be sure his heart swelled with hope.

He didn’t walk, he ran to that pool!

Well then, the same for us:

Even as we pray, and confront our sins,

and ask God to help us change,

You and I really can be completely sure

God will forgive and heal us.

So why not rush to receive God’s grace in confession?

What is justification? (Sunday homily)

 The second reading mentions “justification” – 

we don’t talk about this often, 

so you might wonder just what that is.

From the Council of Trent and the Catechism we learn that 

"Justification is not only the remission of sins, 

but also the sanctification and renewal of the interior man.”*

In other words, justification not only forgives us, but changes us.

And if we don’t change, what good is forgiveness?

The life of God is poured into our hearts and our lives.

In a word, we become saints. This happens in baptism.

Baptism! Ah, now you know why we heard the first reading 

and the Gospel, all about water. 

Of course, Jesus wasn’t just talking about ordinary water, 

but the water of the Holy Spirit.

And you and I receive this water first in baptism.

At this Mass, among us, there are those friends or family members, 

who have been drawn here by that same grace of God.

And that work of God acts through you – each of us –

 as we live our lives as Catholics, bearing witness.

This is one powerful way our own growth in holiness matters;

Either people see that the Gospel changes us – or they don’t see it!

These our friends and family will be born again in baptism soon.

So this is even more a good time to talk about baptism.

And as I said, in baptism you and I are justified; we become saints.

This coincides with something else baptism does: 

it creates a new reality both in ourselves 

and in our relationship with God.

As I said, the life of God enters us; and you can turn that around:

In baptism, you and enter into the inner life of God!

When we sign ourselves, notice: “Father, Son and Holy Spirit”

That signifies that you or I are “surrounded” by the Blessed Trinity!

Baptism is the moment we fully and truly become children of God.

Now, the mystery to all this is the working out of grace in our lives.

A true revolution happens in us at the moment of baptism:

total forgiveness, total adoption, total sanctification.

And yet, this explosion of grace in each of us 

Doesn’t usually bring an instant change.

More often, each of us still has a zig-zaggy path to heaven.

The thing is, justification makes us truly free – free to say yes to God; 

how it plays out is that our lives are a long chain 

of daily, even hourly, yesses. Mixed with nos. 

Thank God, when you or I betray our baptism in mortal sin,

baptism is renewed in the sacrament of confession.

St. Therese, the Little Flower, got frustrated 

that she confessed the same sins over and over; 

till she realized that if she won that battle too quickly, 

she would fall prey to spiritual pride!

Not just baptism, but all the sacraments are about 

thirsting for the water – the divine life – God gives.

Yet notice Jesus himself thirsted; 

this is the amazing thing that is absolutely certain:

God himself thirsts infinitely for souls, 

and whatever path to sanctity each of us treads, long or short, 

straight or twisty, easy or rough – 

God’s unwavering purpose is that each of us will be glorious saints!

 

Saint Augustine said that the justification of sinners 

“is a greater work than the creation of heaven and earth," 

because "heaven and earth will pass away 

but the salvation and justification of the elect . . . will not pass away."

Some of us look ahead to baptism; others of us are invited 

to wake up again to that glorious gift we may have taken for granted.

This time of Lent is when, despite all our busyness,

you and I sit at the well again and say, 

Lord, give me this water always!

* This question of what justification is lies at the heart of the shipwreck of western Christianity in the so-called Reformation. 

Martin Luther insisted that justification was merely "forensic"; that is to say, God merely declared a sinner righteous, yet that sinner actually remained unholy. Note: this contradicts what Trent said and what the Catholic Church teaches, namely that in justification God does not merely say we are holy, but we become holy. 

Luther famously used the image of a hill of dung, covered in newfallen snow. Other "reformers" followed him in this, and this largely remains a bone of contention between Catholic and Protestant.

The reason this was so important to Luther and others was that if a sinner becomes righteous (rather than merely treated as such), then -- to him and other Protestants -- this would suggest that the sinner-made-righteous can claim that righteousness as his own and not a gift from Christ. The Catholic way of seeing it (and I suspect the Orthodox, but I don't wish to speak for them), is that it can be both a gift of Christ, that by being given, becomes ours.

 As it happens, in recent years, a major Lutheran body, after many years, joined with the Catholic Church in adopting a common statement that greatly narrows the area of dispute and then concedes, the remaining differences do not justify separation between Catholic and Protestant. Alas, 500 years too late!

Jesus is Abram's destination - and ours (Sunday homily)

 In the first reading, God says to Abram, get up and go. 

Go where? That’s a little vague. But the key word is GO.

In the Gospel, it almost precisely the opposite. 

God is saying, HERE. This is my Son. 

In other words, Jesus is the destination, 

the “where” Abram was ultimately sent.

This season of Lent orginated as the last weeks of prayer and fasting 

for people who would be become Catholics at the Easter Vigil. 

They realized the day of their baptism, 

their confirmation and their first Holy Communion 

was the most important day of their lives.

They also knew that being baptized 

was putting their neck on the chopping block. 

This is happening right now in Nigeria, Africa, 

among many other places.

Therefore, if you and I are going to risk our lives, 

we have to know: is Jesus the real deal? 

Is faith in Jesus really necessary? 

This was the Apostles’ quandary as well.

So that raises a thorny question: Is Jesus the only way to salvation? 

It’s a really big question and short answer won’t be enough. 

Can we agree that there will be more to say 

than I will be able to say, today?

That said, the short answer, as clear as I can offer, is…

Yes, Jesus is necessary for salvation. 

That’s why he is the Savior. That’s why he went to the Cross. 

None of it would make any sense if there was no real need; 

if any god, any religion, would do.

Why would God tell Abram to abandon everything familiar to him, 

if praying to the gods of Baal and Aphrodite, would work as well? 

When God’s people came out of Egypt, 

every time it got hard, they wanted to go back. 

And they preferred a golden calf to the God who delivered them. 

Why didn’t God tell Moses, don’t worry, it’s all the same?

Of course, all that raises the question, 

so what about people who don’t believe in God? Don’t believe in Jesus? 

Don’t belong to the Catholic Church? Are they lost?

Again, here’s a short answer where a much fuller one is needed.

There are several ways to explain it, here’s my own way: 

Everyone – I mean, everyone – who ultimately is saved, 

will be in the Kingdom because of Jesus. 

Jesus died for them, and his grace is what brought them safely home.  

That doesn’t mean it is automatic, but it means:

Yes, Jesus is the one and only Savior of humanity.

Now: many of those folks may be surprised when they get there, 

to learn that it was Jesus all along. But they will make it.

We might think of this as God providing an ordinary path,

which is faith in Jesus, and the fullness of that is the Catholic Faith.

That said, Jesus has ways of working in people’s lives 

that go beyond what we might call the “ordinary,” the primary, path. 

You and I, like Jesus, point out this primary path, 

but we don’t forget that God’s ways go beyond what you and I can see.

For example, suppose you oversleep and you don’t show up 

for a big test; if you don’t pass that test, you flunk.  

You might gain mercy and your teacher gives you a make-up. 

Or, she might not. You can’t assume that; 

but such “Plan Bs” happen in life. 

And they happen in the spiritual life. 

The mystery of how God works in each human heart 

cannot be reduced to a formula. 

It is wrong to say, that if you aren’t baptized, you have no hope.

Likewise, it is wrong to say, none of this really matters, 

everyone makes it to heaven. 

So, that’s my too-brief explanation.

There remains the invitation of God: do we say yes or no? 

We have many people around the world and in our parishes,

who are preparing now for baptism at Easter. 

Encourage them, pray for them, 

as they weigh the greatest question of all: 

Who is Jesus? Will I give him my all? 

Let's talk about the transgression and the gift (homily for first Sunday of Lent)

Ask me in the comments -- or tell me -- why this image is here.

The first reading is one of the most familiar passages of Scripture – 

it shows up in TV ads! -- and yet so misunderstood.

This account is given to us to illuminate 

one of the most profound mysteries of human existence: 

what is the fundamental flaw that seems to spoil everything? 

And that flaw is sin; to be precise, Original Sin.

When we reflect on evil, the most disturbing aspect of it 

is what we find in human beings. In ourselves!

This account of man and woman and surrendering to evil – just once! – 

cracks open that mystery.

Sin isn’t just a miscue; it isn’t a mere “mistake.” 

Writing “two plus two equals five” on a test is a mistake; 

it doesn’t poison life and turn it to death, as sin does. 

Sin isn’t merely something God is offended by – 

as if to say, if God had more forbearance, he’d let it go. 

This is obviously bigger than a piece of fruit.

Sin is corruption, decay; it is anti-life. 

It is the reason that even prior to creating Adam and Eve, 

knowing what they would do, God planned their salvation. 

He already intended to become human, 

to walk the path of human suffering to the full, 

all the way to death on the Cross and to resurrection.

The episode in the Gospel is paired with this first reading, 

to show Jesus is new Adam 

who renovates all that Adam wrecked, and more! 

Who turns death to life – and as Saint Paul emphasizes, 

those terms are not equal in weight. 

“The gift is not like the transgression.” 

This short sentence should cause us to blow the roof off with joy! 

Why?

Sin is decay, corruption – rust, if you will. 

Take big hands full of rust, and put them on a scale. 

Now on the other side of the scale, put God’s Gift. 

This is not to trivialize sin and evil; they are the worst of all things!

Rather, the point is the love of Christ, the grace Jesus pours out to us, 

is so vast and immense that all evil of history is as nothing!

And if you say, that is a lot to absorb, how right you are!

That’s why we have Lent, and Holy Week 

and Good Friday and Easter, and Pentecost!

Back to the first reading. 

Adam was entrusted with the care of all Creation, above all, his wife. 

Adam is present as the enemy attacks Eve. He is silent and passive.

The enemy wasn’t just cunning, he is dangerous. 

What happened to Jesus when he confronted the same enemy?

He was murdered! 

Adam abandons his wife to save himself.

And he points the finger. She did it! You put her here! 

The enemy tricked us!

There is a four year alive in each of us: 

You and I blame everyone else before we admit our own fault. 

Jesus chose to go out into the desert and face the enemy; 

But central to this is a confrontation with self.

Of course Jesus didn’t need this for himself. 

He had no sinful habits or pride to overcome. 

He didn’t need baptism. 

He went to the desert both to show us the way, 

and to walk with us along the way, that leads to life. 

The desert, here, meaning, dying to our appetites and self-will. 

The opposite of what Adam did, and what you and I prefer to do.

There isn’t a one of us who wouldn’t be fine with Lent 

as long as we didn’t have to change anything!

So, here’s your homework: 

Take advantage of this Lent to confront the old Adam in yourself 

and pray for me that I will do the same in myself. 

There is no appreciating the cure 

without first acknowledging the disease. 

The Cross isn’t for someone else, it is for me and for you. 

The joy of being a Christian is:

Part A, knowing the death that was injected into the human race; and

Part B, realizing we have the healing of Jesus 

who absorbs all the poison, and gives us, instead, Infinite, Endless Life!

Which is Resurrection; which is the Eucharist! Which is Heaven. 

So much to absorb!

Let us walk together this 40-day journey 

of confession, conversion and glory!

It's not one or the other, it's both (Sunday homily)

 This weekend is “Commitment Weekend” 

for the annual Catholic Ministries Appeal.” 

I’m not going to talk all about that for my whole homily. 

I’m mentioning it up front to give it prominence. 

All those who have envelopes for our parish 

should have gotten a mailing, 

and I am asking you to do what you can for this annual drive. 

If you need an envelope and a pledge form, 

we should have some, somewhere! 

Or give our parish staff a call, and they will help.

The readings say so much about serving those around us 

who are in need.  What occurred to me to say is this.

Some of us are really good at the corporal works of mercy. 

Making meals for neighbors, 

or gathering blankets for the homeless 

as our Ladies Society did recently – 

this comes instinctively to some of us more than others.

What no one can say is that God is unclear in his command: 

if you want God to hear your cry, 

hear the cry of those who are in need or who are facing oppression! 

It is totally clear.

Yet sometimes people boil Christianity down to these good works; 

as if to say, it doesn’t really matter if you seek to know God. 

All that matters are good works.

They’ll point to St. James who said, “faith without works is dead” – 

and that’s true.

But notice St. James still mentioned faith.

So, this is a chance to examine ourselves. 

Maybe you’re a go-out-and-do-stuff kind of person. 

And so it might be good to look inward and ask, 

how am I doing with the faith dimension? 

With prayer and seeking nourishment in the sacraments? 

Am I so busy doing Jesus’ bidding 

that I am not paying enough attention to Jesus himself?

Then turn that around.

Are you are person who always has the Rosary nearby, 

or a well-worn prayer book?

Perhaps your examination might include asking, 

am I finding enough time to help others? 

Am I so absorbed at Jesus’ feet, 

that I forget there are others to whom Jesus sends me?

As we all know, Lent starts in about 2-1/2 weeks, 

so right now is a good time to get ready. 

Lent isn’t just a time to deny ourselves; it is about conversion. 

I’m praying – and I hope you’ll pray with me –

that this Lent will be a powerful time for each of us to grow spiritually.

Meekness and humility; injustice and grace (Sunday homily)

Let’s talk about some of the words we heard in the readings.

If we are honest, we may doubt whether “meekness” 

is always a virtue. As we know, the meek get pushed around a lot.

Yet Jesus not only rewards the meek, 

but in another passage, he calls himself “meek and humble of heart.”

 

This is a good time to be clear about something.

There is a terrible, false idea out there about “accepting” abuse. 

Sometimes kids are told that’s what they are supposed to do. 

Sometimes girlfriends and wives think they are supposed to do that.

Let me state in the strongest terms: 

NO ONE is EVER supposed to put up with abuse. 

Our teachers, our principal at school, 

not only Bishop Leibold but any school, know how to help. 

Ask a trusted adult, ask a friend, to help you get help. 

Ask me, if you don’t know who to ask. 

And I want to add that anyone who has authority will be accountable to God 

for misusing that authority: pastor, parent or police officer. (Added at Mass.)

Jesus chose to endure the injustice of the Cross. 

It is a profound mystery, which each Lent we delve into.

There is a deep truth in the words of Isaiah, 

“by his stripes we are healed.” 

But Jesus did not endure injustice to say injustice was OK, 

but to stand with us in our suffering. 

Jesus chose to become lowly and poor and even despised, 

so that there wouldn’t be any single person who could say, 

“Jesus doesn’t know what I go through.”

Jesus, with us on our personal Cross, gives us courage 

not only to endure wrongs, but also to challenge them.

It is Jesus’ grace that has helped us, down the generations, 

to confront and overcome injustice. 

Often, it is precisely the weak and lowly who teach us how to do that.

Let’s talk about humility. 

True humility is not demeaning yourself, but rather, accepting yourself, 

being at peace with yourself, both in the gifts you and I do have, 

and the gifts we don’t have. 

Who I am, who you are, is not defined 

by money or position or any particular talent or ability, 

but by the supreme gift of being God’s children, and knowing that.

This allows you and me to face our weaknesses, 

and admit our sinful choices, 

because when I know God loves me, and offers me grace to change, 

my self-image isn’t threatened by confessing: “I am a sinner.” 

Rather, that confession becomes the doorway to salvation 

and true greatness as God measures it. In a word: heaven.

Then comes gratitude. I am not only at peace with myself; 

I can be grateful for who I am. 

I am not this or that person who is richer, thinner, 

more athletic or more artistic or more of anything else. 

I am me; you are you; and by God’s design, there is only ONE of you. 

God considers each of us important parts of his Creation; 

or else he wouldn’t have included us. No one is an accident. 

All this leads both to the Cross and beyond, to resurrection. 

Dying to pride and self-regard is how we are reborn 

as grateful sinners being changed, day by day, into glorious saints. 

And that, by the way, is the central reality of this and every Mass. 

Not just about the glory ahead, 

but the suffering and wrongs of now, which Jesus shares with us. 

To be baptized, to renew baptism in confession 

and to share in the Holy Eucharist as a Catholic, is to say: 

God made me, God saves me. I abandon myself into his hands. 

Every flaw and sin is an opportunity to be made glorious by his grace. 

To that journey and destination, you and I say yes and amen!

Beacons...of the Kingdom (Sunday homily)

 I want to call your attention to the second reading.

Am I the only one that smiles when it is read?

Saint Paul says, I hear there are divisions among you!

That could be any parish in any place in the world, from then to now!

It’s reassuring to know that some problems are as old as the hills – 

it takes the pressure off.

As we all know by now, Saint Mary, Saint Henry 

and Our Lady of Good Hope are now part of a “family of parishes.” 

And where Paul had to reprove the Corinthian Catholics about rivalries, 

I am very happy to give a commendation:

Our three parish families have been very cooperative 

as we move to being one parish family.

I hear this and that about the challenges other parishes are facing; 

I cannot emphasize enough how much your openness has helped!

Let me highlight an example: when St. Mary suffered a flood 

from the overhead sprinkler system on Christmas Eve, 

there was nothing but support and encouragement 

from folks at Our Lady of Good Hope and Saint Henry. 

No one hear complained about having to attend Mass 

at either St. Henry or Our Lady of Good Hope.

We were able to accommodate religious education classes 

at Bishop Leibold School for a couple of Wednesdays; no complaints.

Good news: starting this weekend, we’re back here.

Soon our offices downstairs will be ready to reopen.

Every year at this time, not only our parishes, but all parishes, 

all Catholics of the Archdiocese, 

do something very ordinary but very important, together. 

We organize something called the Catholic Ministries Appeal.

You may think of it as merely a fund drive. But it is more. 

It is all of us, united in one mind and purpose as St. Paul says today, 

being Christ to one another and to our community.

Let me remind you of the six projects funded by this annual drive:

- St Rita School for the Deaf;

- Catholic Social Services;

- The needs of our retired priests;

- Our seminary and vocations promotion;

- Ministry on college campuses, in hospitals, and in prisons;

- The revival of evangelization at every level of the archdiocese.

Every penny of this drive stays in our archdiocese. 

You may not realize we have four men in the seminary, right now, 

from our family of parishes. 

The chaplains at the Kettering and Premier hospitals 

are tremendously helpful, 

caring for many of our own parishioners during the year. 

This appeal supports outreach to the students at Wright State,   

Miami University and the University of Cincinnati, for example, 

working to keep our college students connected to their faith. 

And every year we have men and women in area prisons 

who become Catholic. 

Isaiah’s words about people in darkness 

sounds like what prisons can be; 

how wonderful to bring the light of Christ there! 

Last year, all three of our parishes significantly exceeded our goals. 

As a result, a portion of those extra donations 

come back to our parishes to support our local needs.

Perhaps each of us puts in $5 or $10; maybe $50 or $100, 

or even more if we’ve got the means. 

At the parish level, the goals for our three parishes totals $117,000; 

and the goal for all the archdiocese is $5,000,000. 

This is one of those times when you and I can look beyond 

our own family and our own parish, 

and see ways to make a difference in the lives of others.

To quote something Archbishop Schnurr said about this appeal:

we can do so much more together than each of us can do individually. 

In the Gospel, when Jesus tells us twice to repent, 

he means of course, being sorry for our sins. 

But it also means conversion, meaning a change in who we are.

The grave danger we can all fall into is to get so settled and satisfied 

that you and I can’t acknowledge a need to change. 

We’re just fine the way we are.

This applies in our family life; parish life, 

and in our personal spiritual life. 

To that Jesus says: Repent! Admit you need to change. 

Because change is coming, Jesus tells us.

He’s not talking about Beacons of Light, or social change;

He means change of the highest order: the Kingdom of Heaven.

Our parishes as a family, and each of us as individual Catholics, 

are beacons of that Kingdom; 

but only with conversion and readiness will you and I really shine.

Our Lady of Hope (Sunday homily)

This weekend we celebrate the patronal feast of this parish: 

Our Lady of Hope. This is a special feast day just for our parish here!

Although history isn’t everyone’s favorite topic, 

a little background might be of interest.

The story begins in January, 1871 in northwest France. 

France and Germany were at war, and France was losing badly.

German armies were marching west, toward the small town of Pontmain. 

What’s more, 38 men and boys from that town 

had been conscripted into the French army, and no one knew their fate.

On the evening of January 17, two boys, 

helping their father with farm chores looked up and saw Mary, 

dressed all in blue, covered with gold stars.

There’s an interesting twist: mom and dad didn’t see Mary, 

but other children in the town did. 

Sometimes we adults get too set in our ways 

and won’t be open to something new. 

God often chooses children as messengers! 

As everyone was anxious about the war, 

Mary’s message that evening was:

“Pray, my children. God will hear you in time. 

My Son allows Himself to be touched.”

That’s interesting! Did she mean, touched, as in, moved?

Or, touched, as in physical contact?

The answer, of course, is both:

God the Son chose to become human,

Which means he has a body that can be touched,

And a heart that can be moved to compassion.

I think the reason Jesus often sends his Mother with this message 

is because she is so convincing a messenger.

In the Gospel we heard, Jesus doesn’t disagree that Mary is blessed, but emphasizes the greater blessing: 

that Mary hears the word of God and observes it.

So she is an excellent messenger from heaven, 

to urge you and me to have hope that Jesus will hear.

That very evening, as the townspeople – led by the children! – 

were praying to Mary, the commander of the German army 

decided to halt his advance; and the town of Pontmain was delivered.

A week later, an armistice was signed, 

and soon the men and boys of the town return, all alive, all safe.

Now, the next part of the story is curious;

That is, how did our parish gain the title, “Our Lady of Good Hope”?

The first church in this parish was named St. Michael, 

with the first Mass offered in October, 1852. 

It was known as a German parish.

In 1880, the German pastor, Father Kalenberg, 

launched a drive to build a new church; 

and later that year, Archbishop Elder laid the cornerstone; 

and in July, 1881, the new church was consecrated, 

“Our Immaculate Lady of Good Hope.”

That was just ten years after Mary appeared 

to the children in Pontmain – France!

So there’s a part of the story still to be unraveled.

But I’m willing to bet those children 

in that French village never heard of Miamisburg, Ohio!

Here we are, 150 years distant from those events,

And the faith and openness of a few children in a small French village

has created a channel of grace for you and me.

Mary still bids you and me to keep praying and keep hoping.

We have different fears and worries.

But heaven’s message is the same:

Keep praying. God will hear you in time.

Jesus allows himself to be touched.

Don't miss your sign (Epiphany homily)

 Today we celebrate the Epiphany. 

What is an “epiphany”?

If you or I have a sudden moment of clarity, 

we’ll call it an “epiphany,” or, an “‘aha!’ moment.”

So it works like this:

Christmas is when God is born a human being. But only a few learn of it.

January 1 is the eighth day; that’s when a newborn boy is circumcised;

And when his name is given publicly for the first time.

Today, Epiphany: now the child is revealed to the nations.

He’s not just a Messiah for the Jewish people, 

but as Isaiah said in the first reading, light for the nations.

And that’s where the Magi come in—they are a symbol of the nations.

Their arrival is the beginning of the world having it’s “aha” moment.

So who are these “Magi”? 

Magi were sort of like priest-philosophers

of the religion of Zoroastrianism.

And one of the things they did was to study the stars, 

expecting them to give signs and meaning. 

Now, as we know, sometimes the stars and planets 

do line up in curious ways, 

and you can have several seem to “meet” in the sky, 

making for an unusual light which—

because it might happen so rarely—

no one alive had ever seen before. 

Nowadays, we have so much artificial light in the sky that we miss a lot.

But in those days, everyone saw a night sky full of light; 

and if you watched it, you saw lots of interesting things.

So while the sign they saw might have been a miracle, 

it also might have been one of the delightful surprises 

that happen in the long course of the ages, planned by God.

Whatever the sign was, it stirred up the magi to make a journey;

and it alarmed Herod and the whole city.

Now, here’s where I give you something to ponder.

They only saw that star because they were paying attention;

What signs might you have missed—because you weren’t looking?

Or, maybe you sort-of saw, but,

because you didn’t want to deal with it, you pretended you didn’t see?

Sometimes we find the message troubling; but it doesn’t have to be. 

Herod could have welcomed Jesus – 

imagine how well that could have gone!

So many people find the sacrament of confession troubling.

They come in afraid and anxious,

but they leave so very, very, VERY happy:

because they didn’t ignore the prompting of their conscience.

I meet couples frequently who are preparing for marriage.

They are always glad they didn’t ignore 

the signs and promptings that led them to each other.

And I tell you right now, I am not sorry 

I followed the star that led me to be a priest.

But what if at the end of my life on earth, I discovered I missed it?

Then I would have been sorry.

Finally, we are sometimes tempted to think 

that our particular part isn’t important. 

But great things almost always start with tiny beginnings.

A baby is born. Far away visitors come to see.

But little by little, the message spread; 

until the year of our Lord 2023 when a third of the world 

calls Christ their king. 

There are still Herods, striking out in violence.

Even so, the light keeps spreading. 

The word of Isaiah is being fulfilled.

Today you are the Magi who came to visit.

What have you seen? What will you lay at his feet?

And, what will you tell others that you saw?