I'm cooling my heels (almost literally) this morning as the latest snowstorm blows over. Seems like a good time to give you another peek into how things are for a pastor.
The big project these days is snow. Everyone got hit last Friday and Saturday, then again yesterday, and more today. Here in Piqua, the mounds are pretty high. The job of clearing snow in such situations is more than any one person can do; whether you are out and about, or staying home, say a prayer for all those who are clearing snow in these storms.
That included me this time. I am a little chagrined to admit it, but until recently, I haven't been all that familiar with how a snow blower operates. Before I entered the seminary, I always used a shovel to remove snow, and so I did since. A few times, here in Piqua, I've asked someone to show me how to use a snow blower, but it didn't happen. Well, last night I finally got a tutorial, and managed not to mow down a bush or run into anything; but I can't say that I was all that efficient.
We had a funeral this morning--with a priest scheduled to come up from Cincinnati, at the request of the family. About 8:15 pm last night, the four of us who were cleaning up the snow all around St. Mary Church and the school--pretty much a full city block--we're looking with satisfaction at every walk cleared, the lot cleared, and all the walks and steps salted.
Then this morning, I didn't even look that closely right away...but when I did, oops! So we got out and cleared things up again. The other folks did most of it, I did a little, because I was also checking in with the family that arrived around 9 am, along with the funeral home, for a visitation in church before the Mass. I didn't look very priestly, I'm afraid, because I'd put on work clothes that were going to get soggy while working in the snow. After doing a bit with the snow, I came back, cleaned up and dressed appropriately, and went over to see if the visiting priest had made it. If not, I was there to offer the Mass.
But he had made it, as had two of the four servers. The Mass was to be in Spanish, which I cannot do; I can manage a few words, that's all. I chatted with him, making sure all was in order, then left him to take care of things.
Meanwhile, I'm making calls around to folks. We have a 24-hour chapel, that usually never closes, but when we have bad weather like this, we do close it. I called the retired priest who was scheduled for Mass this evening, and suggested I take the Mass, since I will have to be out and about, and that way he doesn't take any chances.
The question comes up, what about cancelling Mass? My answer is, if the priest can get there, we'll have Mass; what is the alternative? If I don't show up, someone else, who didn't get word Mass was cancelled, may still show up. So even if I put it on TV and radio...I still have to be there, "just in case." Besides, the Mass must be offered for the intention designated--if not that time, then on another occasion. So as I say, it comes back to, if the priest can get there, Mass will happen. In my situation, St. Mary is a few steps away, St. Boniface is a half-mile away. It would have to be very bad for me not to be able to walk that distance.
In a moment, I'm going to write my column for the bulletin; meanwhile, I'm fielding calls about this and that, but not going anywhere till the storm settles down. The city crews are out on the roads, and they don't need me getting in their way, and besides, everything is cancelled. The vicar and I are here, deciding who is going to handle the burial for the funeral this morning (the visiting priest cannot go), and who will take care of a visit to a nursing home that needs to happen sometime later today.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Saturday, February 06, 2010
How dare a priest come here!
Earlier this week, I read a column at the Washington Post, and posted a response there, that led to a conversation that developed along interesting lines.
The column--which you can see here--was by an ex-priest who was criticizing the Archdiocese of Washington in how it responded to a move by the District of Columbia government to create "same-sex marriage" in the District. With that move came requirements, imposed on those who accept city funding, that the Archdiocese found in conflict with our Catholic Faith and its Gospel mission. So, the Archdiocese said, if that passes, we will have to forgo the funding that was then flowing through the Archdiocese into various services to the poor.
Well, the city proceeded as it announced--and while I'm not up on the exact state of things, if the Archdiocese hasn't withdrawn from those activities, it will before long.
And ex-Father Tam excoriated the Archdiocese, accusing it of refusing to serve the poor.
Bogus charge. A lie, in fact, and so I said on the thread.
Well, you may or may not be interested in what followed. One child of God showed up and dowsed me with condemnation as "dishonest," "prejudiced" "sanctimonious," a "hater" etc. I thought it rich with irony that he would attack me like this...yet I'm the "hater." In the end, he pretty much said I had no business being there.
It's true I had other things to do. It's also true that someone needed to speak up in defense of the Archdiocese of Washington's defense of the truth and defense of the rights of Catholics and others who disagree with the city's high-handed actions.
I thought you might find it interesting.
The column--which you can see here--was by an ex-priest who was criticizing the Archdiocese of Washington in how it responded to a move by the District of Columbia government to create "same-sex marriage" in the District. With that move came requirements, imposed on those who accept city funding, that the Archdiocese found in conflict with our Catholic Faith and its Gospel mission. So, the Archdiocese said, if that passes, we will have to forgo the funding that was then flowing through the Archdiocese into various services to the poor.
Well, the city proceeded as it announced--and while I'm not up on the exact state of things, if the Archdiocese hasn't withdrawn from those activities, it will before long.
And ex-Father Tam excoriated the Archdiocese, accusing it of refusing to serve the poor.
Bogus charge. A lie, in fact, and so I said on the thread.
Well, you may or may not be interested in what followed. One child of God showed up and dowsed me with condemnation as "dishonest," "prejudiced" "sanctimonious," a "hater" etc. I thought it rich with irony that he would attack me like this...yet I'm the "hater." In the end, he pretty much said I had no business being there.
It's true I had other things to do. It's also true that someone needed to speak up in defense of the Archdiocese of Washington's defense of the truth and defense of the rights of Catholics and others who disagree with the city's high-handed actions.
I thought you might find it interesting.
Where we expect Him and where (maybe) we don't...(Sunday homily)
My homily may well have been less well ordered today, because I planned on preparing it today, and then got caught up in many other things (such as dealing with lots and lots of snow), and had a real time trying to focus my thoughts.
I didn't write any notes, so all I can share with you are some points I attempted to make; along the way, I'll share the thoughts that lay behind my homily tonight, such as it was.
What caught my eye was the contrast between the first reading and the Gospel: in each case, an encounter with God. The first happens in church (in the temple)--where we expect and hope to encounter God--that's why we come. The second happened at work--where we may not be expecting to encounter God, but we need to, as do those we work for.
Look at what happened in this Gospel story. Simon is hard at work, and he's ready to go home. Jesus comes and choose his boat to sit in; now he can't go home. How long will this preacher talk?
When our Lord finishes, he says, put out over there--you'll get a catch.
When we had the workers painting the outside of church this past summer, imagine if I'd come along, and said to the workers, you know, you could do a better job if you did it this way. Imagine what would they say? "Oh, you think so, do you?" I wonder if that's what Simon Peter said to Jesus! But then he gets a catch--and he realizes the miracle. He knew there wasn't any fish in that lake! That's when he falls to his knees and calls out Lord.
This got me thinking about how Christ needs to be heard and met in the workplace--who will go? Who will take him there? We may think this is the priest's job; but my calling as a priest is to sanctify you; and you--as laypeople--in turn, are called to sanctify the world. That is your role and privilege through your baptismal priesthood. You meet folks I never see; and you have credibility with folks where a priest won't.
This got me thinking along another line as well. Something about this passage seemed to say something in particular to us men. Let's face it, men--when we come to church, we are in the minority; for whatever reason, a lot of our fellow men don't see spirituality as their thing. But was there something unmanly about Isaiah being overwhelmed by God's presence? We all need that--and hopefully, we all experience that at some point in our lives. You and I as men need to be speaking to our fellow men, and calling them go deeper and to encounter the Lord.
So what do you say folks? Are you ready to fishing for the Lord? To catch souls for him? Who is sending? He's sending you--into the workplace, wherever you go, to bring him there, so people meet him. We encounter him here, in church--like Isaiah; but the whole world needs to meet him. We can wait till they come here; or we can go fishing for the Lord.
I didn't write any notes, so all I can share with you are some points I attempted to make; along the way, I'll share the thoughts that lay behind my homily tonight, such as it was.
What caught my eye was the contrast between the first reading and the Gospel: in each case, an encounter with God. The first happens in church (in the temple)--where we expect and hope to encounter God--that's why we come. The second happened at work--where we may not be expecting to encounter God, but we need to, as do those we work for.
Look at what happened in this Gospel story. Simon is hard at work, and he's ready to go home. Jesus comes and choose his boat to sit in; now he can't go home. How long will this preacher talk?
When our Lord finishes, he says, put out over there--you'll get a catch.
When we had the workers painting the outside of church this past summer, imagine if I'd come along, and said to the workers, you know, you could do a better job if you did it this way. Imagine what would they say? "Oh, you think so, do you?" I wonder if that's what Simon Peter said to Jesus! But then he gets a catch--and he realizes the miracle. He knew there wasn't any fish in that lake! That's when he falls to his knees and calls out Lord.
This got me thinking about how Christ needs to be heard and met in the workplace--who will go? Who will take him there? We may think this is the priest's job; but my calling as a priest is to sanctify you; and you--as laypeople--in turn, are called to sanctify the world. That is your role and privilege through your baptismal priesthood. You meet folks I never see; and you have credibility with folks where a priest won't.
This got me thinking along another line as well. Something about this passage seemed to say something in particular to us men. Let's face it, men--when we come to church, we are in the minority; for whatever reason, a lot of our fellow men don't see spirituality as their thing. But was there something unmanly about Isaiah being overwhelmed by God's presence? We all need that--and hopefully, we all experience that at some point in our lives. You and I as men need to be speaking to our fellow men, and calling them go deeper and to encounter the Lord.
So what do you say folks? Are you ready to fishing for the Lord? To catch souls for him? Who is sending? He's sending you--into the workplace, wherever you go, to bring him there, so people meet him. We encounter him here, in church--like Isaiah; but the whole world needs to meet him. We can wait till they come here; or we can go fishing for the Lord.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Holy Water in Lent...
Just passing this along, came through via email today, from the Worship Office of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati:
Recently, Archbishop Schnurr received a letter concerning the removal of holy water from fonts during the season of Lent. Archbishop Schnurr asked that I clarify for parishes the appropriate liturgical practice.
There is no liturgical directive or norm that states that removing holy water from baptismal fonts (or holy water receptacles) is an acceptable practice.
While the original intent of some parishes to remove holy water from fonts during Lent was well meant, pastoral practice and reflection has taught us that this practice is not well founded. Perhaps some explanation might be helpful.
For those of us who are baptized, Lent is a season in which we walk with the Elect as they prepare for their upcoming baptism and when we prepare for the renewal of our own baptismal promises. We are not “fasting from our baptism,” but rather, during this season, we renew our baptismal call to discipleship through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.
Thus, the purpose of “fasting” is to allow more space in our hearts so that we may walk more closely with the Lord and the Elect, and that we might be moved to greater charity, greater love, greater justice in our lives. Because the Lenten season is understood in this baptismal light, it is most appropriate to leave the holy water in the fonts reminding us of our baptismal commitment.
Therefore, if it has been your parish practice to remove holy water from the font (or holy water receptacles), we would ask that you refrain from doing so during the Lenten season.
However, it is appropriate to remove holy water after the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday until the blessing of water at the Easter Vigil.
Recently, Archbishop Schnurr received a letter concerning the removal of holy water from fonts during the season of Lent. Archbishop Schnurr asked that I clarify for parishes the appropriate liturgical practice.
There is no liturgical directive or norm that states that removing holy water from baptismal fonts (or holy water receptacles) is an acceptable practice.
While the original intent of some parishes to remove holy water from fonts during Lent was well meant, pastoral practice and reflection has taught us that this practice is not well founded. Perhaps some explanation might be helpful.
For those of us who are baptized, Lent is a season in which we walk with the Elect as they prepare for their upcoming baptism and when we prepare for the renewal of our own baptismal promises. We are not “fasting from our baptism,” but rather, during this season, we renew our baptismal call to discipleship through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.
Thus, the purpose of “fasting” is to allow more space in our hearts so that we may walk more closely with the Lord and the Elect, and that we might be moved to greater charity, greater love, greater justice in our lives. Because the Lenten season is understood in this baptismal light, it is most appropriate to leave the holy water in the fonts reminding us of our baptismal commitment.
Therefore, if it has been your parish practice to remove holy water from the font (or holy water receptacles), we would ask that you refrain from doing so during the Lenten season.
However, it is appropriate to remove holy water after the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday until the blessing of water at the Easter Vigil.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Speaking the truth in love (Sunday homily)
Three powerful readings from Scripture.
What do they have in common?
Love.
Why was it important that Jeremiah speak out?
Why did God send him?
God’s people were on a path to being destroyed;
they needed to be warned.
Why did Jesus,
right after everyone said how wonderful he was,
then proceed to infuriate them all so much
that his own friends and neighbors
tried to throw him off the cliff?
Love tells the truth; not as a weapon,
but as the call—often an urgent call:
“Here’s the right path, you’re going the wrong way!”
Both Jeremiah and our Lord found out
how unpopular that can be.
So why is anyone surprised that it’s true for us?
We Catholics often present to our world
a message it doesn’t want to hear.
What’s more, many of our own Catholics don’t agree
with parts of that message.
And the response we hear is, the Church is out of step; change the message—
not just how we say it, but change what we believe.
We might mention marriage:
what used to be common sense is now called “bigotry.”
But to say that marriage is a certain thing,
Rather than anything we want to make of it,
Is simply telling the truth.
There’s a story told about President Lincoln.
He asked some other politicians,
“How many legs does a sheep have?”
“Four,” they answered.
“What if you call a tail a leg, how many then?”
“Well, then five.”
“No,” Lincoln said—the sheep still has four legs—
because calling a tail a leg doesn’t make it so.
The reason we must keep speaking out, like Jeremiah—
and whether it’s about marriage, or the sanctity of life,
or about what real justice looks like,
or what the real ingredients of a happy life look like…
The reason we do it is because we have a life-giving message.
Our society needs it.
And like Jeremiah, God sends us to give it!
And no matter how young you are—speak out.
And the fact that our message
is sometimes unwelcome is just the same thing
that has always happened.
It hardly “proves” that what we’re offering isn’t true;
It only proves that what we’re offering is a challenge.
Chastity and self control…
Being open to God giving new life in families…
Forgiving our enemies…
Finding room for the poor, for the aged, the immigrant…
Telling people that “success” isn’t the main thing…
These are hard messages—not always welcome.
But here’s the thing:
For all these centuries,
Christians—and the Catholic Church in particular—
have been saying hard things like this to the world.
Before we Christians did it, the Jewish people did it.
The world never liked it,
but our world is a far better place because of it.
Think of slavery. It is so shocking to us.
And yet, in most of human history, it was normal.
It was common before Christianity spread.
Over the centuries,
it almost entirely died out in Christian Europe.
Then, when European explorers came to Africa…
They found it, they got dollar-signs in their eyes,
and brought it to the New World.
And it was another four hundred years’ long struggle
as Christians, our Church in particular, kept fighting it.
There were a lot of Jeremiahs over the years,
Their message wasn’t welcome…
They didn’t say, “I’m personally opposed, but…”
They were told, “Get with the times,”
They didn’t listen!
“Love never fails.”
So however long the odds may seem,
That our culture is going to listen to us,
We have a simple but certain fact on our side:
Our message is not our own invention.
We are presenting the message of Jesus Christ.
And while parts of the message are well received,
Other times, it inspires fury.
Some years back, I spent a month in Korea,
And there is a hilltop there where 150 years ago,
the King threw Christians to their deaths—
just like the crowd wanted to do to Jesus.
There’s a Catholic Church on that hilltop now;
And although Christians are still a minority in Korea,
they have had a huge influence for good.
Parents, you are the ones who often do this
when you draw a line or say “no” for the thousandth time.
You do it when you go the extra mile to share our Faith with your children.
This week we celebrate the great gift of our Catholic Schools
and we thank all those whose work and sacrifice make them possible.
But the key thing is that the family,
the leadership of parents, is what passes on the Faith.
As a former kid, I can tell you I eventually figured out that my parents were right!
Your kids will figure it out—and they may even admit it!
Meanwhile, it is love—love that speaks the truth—
that compels us to say,
“this is the path that leads to life.”
What do they have in common?
Love.
Why was it important that Jeremiah speak out?
Why did God send him?
God’s people were on a path to being destroyed;
they needed to be warned.
Why did Jesus,
right after everyone said how wonderful he was,
then proceed to infuriate them all so much
that his own friends and neighbors
tried to throw him off the cliff?
Love tells the truth; not as a weapon,
but as the call—often an urgent call:
“Here’s the right path, you’re going the wrong way!”
Both Jeremiah and our Lord found out
how unpopular that can be.
So why is anyone surprised that it’s true for us?
We Catholics often present to our world
a message it doesn’t want to hear.
What’s more, many of our own Catholics don’t agree
with parts of that message.
And the response we hear is, the Church is out of step; change the message—
not just how we say it, but change what we believe.
We might mention marriage:
what used to be common sense is now called “bigotry.”
But to say that marriage is a certain thing,
Rather than anything we want to make of it,
Is simply telling the truth.
There’s a story told about President Lincoln.
He asked some other politicians,
“How many legs does a sheep have?”
“Four,” they answered.
“What if you call a tail a leg, how many then?”
“Well, then five.”
“No,” Lincoln said—the sheep still has four legs—
because calling a tail a leg doesn’t make it so.
The reason we must keep speaking out, like Jeremiah—
and whether it’s about marriage, or the sanctity of life,
or about what real justice looks like,
or what the real ingredients of a happy life look like…
The reason we do it is because we have a life-giving message.
Our society needs it.
And like Jeremiah, God sends us to give it!
And no matter how young you are—speak out.
And the fact that our message
is sometimes unwelcome is just the same thing
that has always happened.
It hardly “proves” that what we’re offering isn’t true;
It only proves that what we’re offering is a challenge.
Chastity and self control…
Being open to God giving new life in families…
Forgiving our enemies…
Finding room for the poor, for the aged, the immigrant…
Telling people that “success” isn’t the main thing…
These are hard messages—not always welcome.
But here’s the thing:
For all these centuries,
Christians—and the Catholic Church in particular—
have been saying hard things like this to the world.
Before we Christians did it, the Jewish people did it.
The world never liked it,
but our world is a far better place because of it.
Think of slavery. It is so shocking to us.
And yet, in most of human history, it was normal.
It was common before Christianity spread.
Over the centuries,
it almost entirely died out in Christian Europe.
Then, when European explorers came to Africa…
They found it, they got dollar-signs in their eyes,
and brought it to the New World.
And it was another four hundred years’ long struggle
as Christians, our Church in particular, kept fighting it.
There were a lot of Jeremiahs over the years,
Their message wasn’t welcome…
They didn’t say, “I’m personally opposed, but…”
They were told, “Get with the times,”
They didn’t listen!
“Love never fails.”
So however long the odds may seem,
That our culture is going to listen to us,
We have a simple but certain fact on our side:
Our message is not our own invention.
We are presenting the message of Jesus Christ.
And while parts of the message are well received,
Other times, it inspires fury.
Some years back, I spent a month in Korea,
And there is a hilltop there where 150 years ago,
the King threw Christians to their deaths—
just like the crowd wanted to do to Jesus.
There’s a Catholic Church on that hilltop now;
And although Christians are still a minority in Korea,
they have had a huge influence for good.
Parents, you are the ones who often do this
when you draw a line or say “no” for the thousandth time.
You do it when you go the extra mile to share our Faith with your children.
This week we celebrate the great gift of our Catholic Schools
and we thank all those whose work and sacrifice make them possible.
But the key thing is that the family,
the leadership of parents, is what passes on the Faith.
As a former kid, I can tell you I eventually figured out that my parents were right!
Your kids will figure it out—and they may even admit it!
Meanwhile, it is love—love that speaks the truth—
that compels us to say,
“this is the path that leads to life.”
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
First Reconciliation
I thought you might be interested in how we did things here for our second-graders who participated in the sacrament of reconciliation for the first time.
The children--whether in religious education or Piqua Catholic grade school--have been preparing all year; last night we had a penance service for them and their families. We had a reading from Isaiah, a psalm and a Gospel passage from Luke, concerning the one lost sheep (later in that passage, our Lord talks about the lost coin, and then the lost son--i.e., the "prodigal" son). Yours truly gave the homily, which is below. The children took their turns, after which the adults were welcome to receive the sacrament. Several older children came as well. After receiving the sacrament, the children light a candle and can take a rosary, which I blessed at the end. We had four priests, and I decided we'll need five or six next year.
Afterwards, two of the priests, our religious education coordinator and I went out for something to eat; we ended up staying past closing (at 10, I mean), the conversation was so enjoyable. Thanks to Father Jason Bedel, from Sidney, who joined us!
You might be curious about our timing--we will have First Communion in May, so this gives time for the second-graders to receive the sacrament of confession again before then.
When Father Caserta read the Gospel,
You heard Jesus ask:
What man wouldn’t leave the 99 sheep…
and go find the one that’s lost…
Jesus said, “who doesn’t do that?”
Well…I think we would not do that!
If you’ve got 99 sheep, and one goes off into the woods,
Most people would say,
“too bad…that’s the cost of doing business.”
After all, if you are watching 100,
and one sheep wanders off,
what might happen while you’re gone?
They might wander off, or get in trouble, too!
So this is what happens: we feel badly,
but we let the sheep go.
And we do it with people, too.
We have an argument with someone,
and we are too mad—or too proud—
to be the one to go make up.
“No, she should come to me!”
Maybe there’s someone in our grade at school—
and we don’t know him or her very well;
or we may not like that person so much.
Someone makes fun of that boy or girl,
and we go along with it.
As you may know, everyone is not always
treated with respect in our society.
Sometimes we put people down
because their name sounds funny to us;
or their skin color is different from ours;
because of their clothes,
or their family doesn’t have a lot of money.
Many times, we know people who did wrong—
and we let them wander off; we’d rather they did:
“good riddance!”
Of course, everything I just said
not only applies to those other people—
those other sheep—it applies to ourselves!
We wander off because we get our focus
on someone other than Jesus, who is our shepherd.
We—or the other sheep we’re with—
would rather be at a soccer game.
We wander off because we decide
that we really don’t need a shepherd—
we know our own way.
I’ll tell you a secret—but you already know it.
Sometimes grownups say,
“now that I’m a grownup,
I don’t need my faith so much. That’s for kids.”
Let me tell you: I’m 48 years old, I’m a grown man.
But I am not so smart that I know every answer.
Today I needed Jon Paul to help me with my computer!
So how can I think I don’t need Jesus to lead me every day?
We might wander off, thinking, what I do is my business.
But caring for each other is our business.
Just like a team, we need everyone. Everyone counts.
So tonight, with the sacrament of penance,
We have the opportunity to get back.
Of course, this is a first time for many of us.
But I am confident it won’t be your last.
Now I know how hard you worked to be ready;
But if you are afraid you’ll forget, don’t worry!
Father Tom, Father Ang, Father Jason and I will help!
(Hint: that’s true for everyone!)
Parents, after your children have their opportunity,
I want to invite you to receive the grace of this sacrament.
Now, we might ask:
“Does this Gospel passage mean the sacrament of reconciliation
is only for the sheep who wander off?”
No! This is sacrament is very powerful to help keep us from wandering off.
After all, I suspect the lamb Jesus talked about
may not have realized, right away, he’d gotten lost.
He was happily chewing on grass,
and didn’t realize Jesus was farther and farther away.
This sacrament keeps us close to the Shepherd—
and teaches us to recognize his voice
in all the ways he speaks to us.
Kids, when you’ve driven with mom and dad,
I bet you noticed this: they will get lost,
but they don’t want to admit they are lost.
Or else, they won’t stop to ask directions!
That can be hard to do;
But it is what we do when we go to confession.
“I’m sorry Lord, I got off track. Help me get back!”
And the more often we come, the more easily we do that.
Finally, remember that when the Lord finds us,
He never says, “I came to find you to kick you out!”
No, we heard what Jesus does:
He gathers up his lamb, puts it on his shoulders, “with great joy!”
Let him find you tonight—
Let him keep you close to his heart.
The children--whether in religious education or Piqua Catholic grade school--have been preparing all year; last night we had a penance service for them and their families. We had a reading from Isaiah, a psalm and a Gospel passage from Luke, concerning the one lost sheep (later in that passage, our Lord talks about the lost coin, and then the lost son--i.e., the "prodigal" son). Yours truly gave the homily, which is below. The children took their turns, after which the adults were welcome to receive the sacrament. Several older children came as well. After receiving the sacrament, the children light a candle and can take a rosary, which I blessed at the end. We had four priests, and I decided we'll need five or six next year.
Afterwards, two of the priests, our religious education coordinator and I went out for something to eat; we ended up staying past closing (at 10, I mean), the conversation was so enjoyable. Thanks to Father Jason Bedel, from Sidney, who joined us!
You might be curious about our timing--we will have First Communion in May, so this gives time for the second-graders to receive the sacrament of confession again before then.
When Father Caserta read the Gospel,
You heard Jesus ask:
What man wouldn’t leave the 99 sheep…
and go find the one that’s lost…
Jesus said, “who doesn’t do that?”
Well…I think we would not do that!
If you’ve got 99 sheep, and one goes off into the woods,
Most people would say,
“too bad…that’s the cost of doing business.”
After all, if you are watching 100,
and one sheep wanders off,
what might happen while you’re gone?
They might wander off, or get in trouble, too!
So this is what happens: we feel badly,
but we let the sheep go.
And we do it with people, too.
We have an argument with someone,
and we are too mad—or too proud—
to be the one to go make up.
“No, she should come to me!”
Maybe there’s someone in our grade at school—
and we don’t know him or her very well;
or we may not like that person so much.
Someone makes fun of that boy or girl,
and we go along with it.
As you may know, everyone is not always
treated with respect in our society.
Sometimes we put people down
because their name sounds funny to us;
or their skin color is different from ours;
because of their clothes,
or their family doesn’t have a lot of money.
Many times, we know people who did wrong—
and we let them wander off; we’d rather they did:
“good riddance!”
Of course, everything I just said
not only applies to those other people—
those other sheep—it applies to ourselves!
We wander off because we get our focus
on someone other than Jesus, who is our shepherd.
We—or the other sheep we’re with—
would rather be at a soccer game.
We wander off because we decide
that we really don’t need a shepherd—
we know our own way.
I’ll tell you a secret—but you already know it.
Sometimes grownups say,
“now that I’m a grownup,
I don’t need my faith so much. That’s for kids.”
Let me tell you: I’m 48 years old, I’m a grown man.
But I am not so smart that I know every answer.
Today I needed Jon Paul to help me with my computer!
So how can I think I don’t need Jesus to lead me every day?
We might wander off, thinking, what I do is my business.
But caring for each other is our business.
Just like a team, we need everyone. Everyone counts.
So tonight, with the sacrament of penance,
We have the opportunity to get back.
Of course, this is a first time for many of us.
But I am confident it won’t be your last.
Now I know how hard you worked to be ready;
But if you are afraid you’ll forget, don’t worry!
Father Tom, Father Ang, Father Jason and I will help!
(Hint: that’s true for everyone!)
Parents, after your children have their opportunity,
I want to invite you to receive the grace of this sacrament.
Now, we might ask:
“Does this Gospel passage mean the sacrament of reconciliation
is only for the sheep who wander off?”
No! This is sacrament is very powerful to help keep us from wandering off.
After all, I suspect the lamb Jesus talked about
may not have realized, right away, he’d gotten lost.
He was happily chewing on grass,
and didn’t realize Jesus was farther and farther away.
This sacrament keeps us close to the Shepherd—
and teaches us to recognize his voice
in all the ways he speaks to us.
Kids, when you’ve driven with mom and dad,
I bet you noticed this: they will get lost,
but they don’t want to admit they are lost.
Or else, they won’t stop to ask directions!
That can be hard to do;
But it is what we do when we go to confession.
“I’m sorry Lord, I got off track. Help me get back!”
And the more often we come, the more easily we do that.
Finally, remember that when the Lord finds us,
He never says, “I came to find you to kick you out!”
No, we heard what Jesus does:
He gathers up his lamb, puts it on his shoulders, “with great joy!”
Let him find you tonight—
Let him keep you close to his heart.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
What a marvel! (Sunday homily)
“What a marvel,”
St. Augustine said of today’s Gospel.
“God came to a wedding!”
When God chose to become a human being,
He made a marriage with Creation,
and with humanity in particular.
At the instant when Jesus was conceived
in the womb of Mary,
from that moment, and forever, without end,
God is united with human flesh and blood.
What a marvel! Let us count the ways.
On one level, we have an ordinary part of life:
a man and woman united in marriage;
But it doesn’t stay on the ordinary level—
Not after Jesus came to the wedding.
The ordinary becomes forever more than ordinary;
Changed, filled with grace.
Water becomes wine; human love becomes divine;
Regular life a place where God is real and present;
Heaven comes to earth, and earth is lifted up.
That’s what our sacraments are:
Ordinary things, which God takes and uses
to give his supernatural life to us.
Water—in baptism—gives the Holy Spirit.
A priest speaks ordinary words—in confession—
and through them, Christ gives total forgiveness.
A couple gives themselves to each other
in their “I do” and in acts of love—
and Christ unites them forever as one flesh.
Another marvel: this Gospel story of a wedding;
it’s a family scene, it’s earthy; it’s giddy;
the wine was flowing, it’s amorous—
you know there were knowing jokes and laughter,
like any wedding; some things never change!
And here is Jesus, he blesses it all!
Our Faith does not push aside the good things of life;
We are not ashamed or embarrassed by these things.
We’re the moderates, if you will, between two extremes.
On one side are those who make the things of this life their ultimate good.
Pleasure or money, health, sports, sex or power.
That way of thinking cannot fathom the value of self-denial;
or else it believes its impossible.
We’re animals, we can’t help ourselves.
The flip side is to see human experience negatively—
and this world as something to escape.
That includes a mindset in which being poor, or old,
or sick or handicapped means your life isn’t worth it;
that mindset gives us “assisted suicide.”
It also includes those who go too far
in respect for Creation,
to the point of making the earth more important than people;
humanity becomes “intruders,” and they believe
the world would be better off with fewer of us.
But notice, Jesus did not say, “you invited too many people”!
God’s wine flows freely;
and when we care for our world and for one another
as God would have us do…
When we use our gifts to unlock this world’s abundance,
we have plenty of room for all his children.
There’s one more marvel: the Mass and the Eucharist.
The miracle of water-turned-to-wine
anticipates the miracle of wine (and bread)
turned into our Lord and God;
and with that, the change our union with Him makes in us.
We become part of God, sharing one life.
Marriage: two become one.
On the cross Jesus said, “it is finished”;
a better translation is, “it is consummated.”
The Cross is where He consummated the marriage with his Church.
This is what the Mass is.
This is why the Mass is the center of our faith.
This is why we come every week—and many come every day;
And it is also why we—as a Church—
so often have discussions
about the right way to celebrate the Mass.
This is the reason we don’t take lightly
the act of receiving the Eucharist;
some believe it is merely a ritual or a “reminder”;
but the reason we call it “communion”
is because it is a real, intimate union with Christ.
Something that special deserves our full attention!
This is one reason for the fast from food for one hour before communion.
And it is why we examine our lives,
to see if we’re ready for that intimacy.
Just as a married couple sometimes needs
moments of reconciliation first—so, too,
sometimes we need the sacrament of reconciliation
before we enter into this act of communion.
This is what Isaiah foretold:
“As a young man marries a virgin,
Your Builder will marry you;
As a bridegroom rejoices in his bride,
So shall your God rejoice in you.”
What a marvel!
St. Augustine said of today’s Gospel.
“God came to a wedding!”
When God chose to become a human being,
He made a marriage with Creation,
and with humanity in particular.
At the instant when Jesus was conceived
in the womb of Mary,
from that moment, and forever, without end,
God is united with human flesh and blood.
What a marvel! Let us count the ways.
On one level, we have an ordinary part of life:
a man and woman united in marriage;
But it doesn’t stay on the ordinary level—
Not after Jesus came to the wedding.
The ordinary becomes forever more than ordinary;
Changed, filled with grace.
Water becomes wine; human love becomes divine;
Regular life a place where God is real and present;
Heaven comes to earth, and earth is lifted up.
That’s what our sacraments are:
Ordinary things, which God takes and uses
to give his supernatural life to us.
Water—in baptism—gives the Holy Spirit.
A priest speaks ordinary words—in confession—
and through them, Christ gives total forgiveness.
A couple gives themselves to each other
in their “I do” and in acts of love—
and Christ unites them forever as one flesh.
Another marvel: this Gospel story of a wedding;
it’s a family scene, it’s earthy; it’s giddy;
the wine was flowing, it’s amorous—
you know there were knowing jokes and laughter,
like any wedding; some things never change!
And here is Jesus, he blesses it all!
Our Faith does not push aside the good things of life;
We are not ashamed or embarrassed by these things.
We’re the moderates, if you will, between two extremes.
On one side are those who make the things of this life their ultimate good.
Pleasure or money, health, sports, sex or power.
That way of thinking cannot fathom the value of self-denial;
or else it believes its impossible.
We’re animals, we can’t help ourselves.
The flip side is to see human experience negatively—
and this world as something to escape.
That includes a mindset in which being poor, or old,
or sick or handicapped means your life isn’t worth it;
that mindset gives us “assisted suicide.”
It also includes those who go too far
in respect for Creation,
to the point of making the earth more important than people;
humanity becomes “intruders,” and they believe
the world would be better off with fewer of us.
But notice, Jesus did not say, “you invited too many people”!
God’s wine flows freely;
and when we care for our world and for one another
as God would have us do…
When we use our gifts to unlock this world’s abundance,
we have plenty of room for all his children.
There’s one more marvel: the Mass and the Eucharist.
The miracle of water-turned-to-wine
anticipates the miracle of wine (and bread)
turned into our Lord and God;
and with that, the change our union with Him makes in us.
We become part of God, sharing one life.
Marriage: two become one.
On the cross Jesus said, “it is finished”;
a better translation is, “it is consummated.”
The Cross is where He consummated the marriage with his Church.
This is what the Mass is.
This is why the Mass is the center of our faith.
This is why we come every week—and many come every day;
And it is also why we—as a Church—
so often have discussions
about the right way to celebrate the Mass.
This is the reason we don’t take lightly
the act of receiving the Eucharist;
some believe it is merely a ritual or a “reminder”;
but the reason we call it “communion”
is because it is a real, intimate union with Christ.
Something that special deserves our full attention!
This is one reason for the fast from food for one hour before communion.
And it is why we examine our lives,
to see if we’re ready for that intimacy.
Just as a married couple sometimes needs
moments of reconciliation first—so, too,
sometimes we need the sacrament of reconciliation
before we enter into this act of communion.
This is what Isaiah foretold:
“As a young man marries a virgin,
Your Builder will marry you;
As a bridegroom rejoices in his bride,
So shall your God rejoice in you.”
What a marvel!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Give Yourself--make a difference (Sunday homily)
Today we recall Jesus came to be baptized.
Picture the scene:
Here is John, baptizing;
on the shore, a line of people, waiting;
and here comes the Son of God:
He gets into line with all the sinners!
This is the next chapter of the Christmas Story:
God becomes man; he is revealed to the nations;
and now, the God-man comes to stand with us.
When God—human like us—comes where we are,
It means we humans are invited to be where God is!
As we prayed in the psalm:
“The Lord will bless his people with peace.”
Today, also, we call attention to vocations,
As deacons and priests, as sisters and brothers.
And you might wonder, what’s the connection?
When Jesus came to be baptized,
he accepted the challenge
of what the Father sent him to do.
He had already chosen it before time began;
Now, he chooses it again;
and he will choose it once more, the night before he dies.
We all go through that.
If we were baptized as a child,
we later choose to make the Faith our own.
Some of us drift—but then comes a moment
when our Faith matters more to us.
Maybe in high school or college we have tough questions.
When we think about marriage, or our first child arrives,
and you realize you want your children to have faith;
and you ask yourself, “what do I really believe?”
It’s a funny thing; some people believe
that being a priest, a brother or sister,
is somehow harder than being a husband or a wife.
In many ways, they mirror each other.
A priest can’t be much of a priest
unless he comes and offers himself to the Father,
and to God’s people, just as Jesus did in today’s Gospel.
But a husband is no husband, a wife is no wife,
unless they do just the same.
This dying to self blesses a marriage with peace.
Now, some people can’t get past the celibacy thing.
Our society is messed up on this subject;
we know how it damages the priesthood;
but it also damages marriages.
Any man who enters marriage
thinking he isn’t going to die to self,
particularly in this area of sexuality,
is in for a rude awakening.
When a spouse goes on a business trip;
or is far away in the military,
and there you are—you have to remain faithful,
despite opportunities, and the desire to be with someone.
What do you say, wives and husbands?
“No thank you—I have someone I’m waiting for.”
When you meet a brother, or a priest, and you say,
“why don’t you get a partner, a spouse?”
We answer the same:
“No thank you—I have Someone I’m waiting for.”
Celibacy reminds the world that Heaven is real,
it is where our true hope lies.
And most people get this on an intuitive level.
That’s why something lifts us up simply by meeting
a priest, a sister or a brother.
A little bit of heaven enters our ordinary life,
and we experience hope.
So, during Vocations Week,
I simply want to give the invitation:
Do you want to be that person—
that deacon, that sister,
who lifts this world up to the Father?
Will you bless God’s People with peace?
Parents, grandparents:
do you want your children to be that sister or priest?
I say this because it is family life
where the seeds are planted and nourished…or not.
A moment ago, I said that marriage, and priesthood,
are mirrors of each other.
We see this particularly at Mass.
Mass is when all that Christ did for us,
all that he is for us, is summed up;
it is summed up in the Cross:
everything for you; I give my life for you.
That is what a sister says in her vows;
It is what a priest becomes when he is ordained;
and it is what a couple declares on their wedding day.
Then…you live it, day-by-day!
We all live the Cross…or we’re sterile and empty.
But realize, we can only have the Eucharist,
because he died—he gave everything for us.
And we can only have the Eucharist,
because we have priests who do the same:
who die to self.
We have families because couples do the same.
It's the hardest thing we do,
but if you want to make a difference,
you must do the same!
When we come to share the Eucharist,
This is what we choose:
not just to receive, but to become:
Life-givers; Christ-bearers;
Thus does the Lord bless his people with peace.
Picture the scene:
Here is John, baptizing;
on the shore, a line of people, waiting;
and here comes the Son of God:
He gets into line with all the sinners!
This is the next chapter of the Christmas Story:
God becomes man; he is revealed to the nations;
and now, the God-man comes to stand with us.
When God—human like us—comes where we are,
It means we humans are invited to be where God is!
As we prayed in the psalm:
“The Lord will bless his people with peace.”
Today, also, we call attention to vocations,
As deacons and priests, as sisters and brothers.
And you might wonder, what’s the connection?
When Jesus came to be baptized,
he accepted the challenge
of what the Father sent him to do.
He had already chosen it before time began;
Now, he chooses it again;
and he will choose it once more, the night before he dies.
We all go through that.
If we were baptized as a child,
we later choose to make the Faith our own.
Some of us drift—but then comes a moment
when our Faith matters more to us.
Maybe in high school or college we have tough questions.
When we think about marriage, or our first child arrives,
and you realize you want your children to have faith;
and you ask yourself, “what do I really believe?”
It’s a funny thing; some people believe
that being a priest, a brother or sister,
is somehow harder than being a husband or a wife.
In many ways, they mirror each other.
A priest can’t be much of a priest
unless he comes and offers himself to the Father,
and to God’s people, just as Jesus did in today’s Gospel.
But a husband is no husband, a wife is no wife,
unless they do just the same.
This dying to self blesses a marriage with peace.
Now, some people can’t get past the celibacy thing.
Our society is messed up on this subject;
we know how it damages the priesthood;
but it also damages marriages.
Any man who enters marriage
thinking he isn’t going to die to self,
particularly in this area of sexuality,
is in for a rude awakening.
When a spouse goes on a business trip;
or is far away in the military,
and there you are—you have to remain faithful,
despite opportunities, and the desire to be with someone.
What do you say, wives and husbands?
“No thank you—I have someone I’m waiting for.”
When you meet a brother, or a priest, and you say,
“why don’t you get a partner, a spouse?”
We answer the same:
“No thank you—I have Someone I’m waiting for.”
Celibacy reminds the world that Heaven is real,
it is where our true hope lies.
And most people get this on an intuitive level.
That’s why something lifts us up simply by meeting
a priest, a sister or a brother.
A little bit of heaven enters our ordinary life,
and we experience hope.
So, during Vocations Week,
I simply want to give the invitation:
Do you want to be that person—
that deacon, that sister,
who lifts this world up to the Father?
Will you bless God’s People with peace?
Parents, grandparents:
do you want your children to be that sister or priest?
I say this because it is family life
where the seeds are planted and nourished…or not.
A moment ago, I said that marriage, and priesthood,
are mirrors of each other.
We see this particularly at Mass.
Mass is when all that Christ did for us,
all that he is for us, is summed up;
it is summed up in the Cross:
everything for you; I give my life for you.
That is what a sister says in her vows;
It is what a priest becomes when he is ordained;
and it is what a couple declares on their wedding day.
Then…you live it, day-by-day!
We all live the Cross…or we’re sterile and empty.
But realize, we can only have the Eucharist,
because he died—he gave everything for us.
And we can only have the Eucharist,
because we have priests who do the same:
who die to self.
We have families because couples do the same.
It's the hardest thing we do,
but if you want to make a difference,
you must do the same!
When we come to share the Eucharist,
This is what we choose:
not just to receive, but to become:
Life-givers; Christ-bearers;
Thus does the Lord bless his people with peace.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Christmas Vigil homily
I’m going to talk to you about the Christmas Tree.
In Genesis, the first book of the Bible,
we have the story of the Garden,
and two, particular trees:
The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Bad,
and the Tree of Life.
We recall that Adam and Eve, disobeyed God,
and ate from the wrong tree:
for them, the Tree of Knowledge
became the Tree of Death.
And they were not allowed to eat from the Tree of Life.
This story, and these ideas,
have always fired the imagination of Christians,
Priests and bishops have talked about them, at Mass,
from early on.
One reason is that the Bible tells us about
yet another Tree—the Cross!
The Cross was made of wood; and they called it a tree.
The connection is this: because Adam and Eve
made a sinful choice, Jesus came as the second Adam,
and he chose the Cross—the Tree of Death—
and he made it, for us, the Tree of Life.
Do you know when Christians would hear about this?
At Mass…on Christmas Day!
What’s more, over the years, Christians made artwork,
that depicted Adam and Eve,
and the Tree, with its colorful fruit!
Around the year 1000, people in Germany,
began putting on religious plays.
And on December 24th, they would have a play
about Adam and Eve.
The main prop on stage was a tree—
a fir tree, the only tree still green in December.
There is another story about this,
and that is the story of St. Boniface.
St. Boniface went to Germany in the 600s
to proclaim Christ, and he found people
whose worship of false gods was connected to trees.
To demonstrate their gods were false,
Boniface cut down a great Oak tree
that they considered sacred.
The oak knocked down many other trees—
but a small sapling of a fir tree remained.
It’s not clear what time of year this happened,
but some claim it happened…in December.
Now, where did the decorations come from?
Remember the play I mentioned?
They decorated the tree with fruit: apples.
But because they were not only recalling
the Tree of Death—with it’s forbidden fruit—
they were also thinking of the Tree of Life—
whose fruit gave eternal life.
But they only had one tree,
because Jesus, dying on the Cross,
made the Tree of Death into the Tree of Life.
So you know what else they decorated the tree with?
Bread!
Round wafers of bread…
that looked just like what we receive at Mass:
The Holy Eucharist!
The Eucharist is the “fruit” of the Cross—
the Eucharist is the “fruit” Jesus gives us,
that enables us to live forever!
Can you picture that “Paradise Tree,” now?
Decorated with apples—
red, and maybe green and yellow?
Also decorated with round, white circles of bread?
Many years later, the plays went in the wrong direction,
and in the 1400s, the Church put a stop to them.
But, people loved the Paradise Tree;
so they started putting them up in their homes.
Over time, they added other decorations:
other fruit, nuts and candies,
and the wafers of bread became pastries.
Much later, someone invented glass ornaments,
and we still use them.
But notice even now,
we still have ornaments shaped like…fruit!
You still find food on the Tree: candy, chocolate,
garland made of popcorn and berries.
There’s one more connection to a tree,
mentioned in Scripture—
we heard about it in the Gospel:
a family Tree!
We just heard a long list of names—
the family tree that connects Abraham to Jesus.
Why do we hear that Gospel on Christmas Eve?
Because in becoming human, becoming a baby,
Jesus did two things at the same time:
He became part of our, human, family tree;
and he made it possible for us
to become part of his, supernatural family!
Through faith in Jesus Christ, when we are baptized,
we are “born again”—into a new family.
That family tree in the Gospel seemed long—
but imagine trying to list all the people
who are part of God’s Family,
because they believe in Jesus?
The list would go on…forever!
By accepting Jesus, and following Jesus,
you and I become part of that Family Tree.
God has a Tree, too—and he decorates his Tree
with all that is precious to him: each one of us!
Together with all the angels and saints,
you and I are the priceless treasures,
which Jesus gained by his dying and rising,
to give to his Father in heaven,
to decorate the heavenly Christmas Tree!
In Genesis, the first book of the Bible,
we have the story of the Garden,
and two, particular trees:
The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Bad,
and the Tree of Life.
We recall that Adam and Eve, disobeyed God,
and ate from the wrong tree:
for them, the Tree of Knowledge
became the Tree of Death.
And they were not allowed to eat from the Tree of Life.
This story, and these ideas,
have always fired the imagination of Christians,
Priests and bishops have talked about them, at Mass,
from early on.
One reason is that the Bible tells us about
yet another Tree—the Cross!
The Cross was made of wood; and they called it a tree.
The connection is this: because Adam and Eve
made a sinful choice, Jesus came as the second Adam,
and he chose the Cross—the Tree of Death—
and he made it, for us, the Tree of Life.
Do you know when Christians would hear about this?
At Mass…on Christmas Day!
What’s more, over the years, Christians made artwork,
that depicted Adam and Eve,
and the Tree, with its colorful fruit!
Around the year 1000, people in Germany,
began putting on religious plays.
And on December 24th, they would have a play
about Adam and Eve.
The main prop on stage was a tree—
a fir tree, the only tree still green in December.
There is another story about this,
and that is the story of St. Boniface.
St. Boniface went to Germany in the 600s
to proclaim Christ, and he found people
whose worship of false gods was connected to trees.
To demonstrate their gods were false,
Boniface cut down a great Oak tree
that they considered sacred.
The oak knocked down many other trees—
but a small sapling of a fir tree remained.
It’s not clear what time of year this happened,
but some claim it happened…in December.
Now, where did the decorations come from?
Remember the play I mentioned?
They decorated the tree with fruit: apples.
But because they were not only recalling
the Tree of Death—with it’s forbidden fruit—
they were also thinking of the Tree of Life—
whose fruit gave eternal life.
But they only had one tree,
because Jesus, dying on the Cross,
made the Tree of Death into the Tree of Life.
So you know what else they decorated the tree with?
Bread!
Round wafers of bread…
that looked just like what we receive at Mass:
The Holy Eucharist!
The Eucharist is the “fruit” of the Cross—
the Eucharist is the “fruit” Jesus gives us,
that enables us to live forever!
Can you picture that “Paradise Tree,” now?
Decorated with apples—
red, and maybe green and yellow?
Also decorated with round, white circles of bread?
Many years later, the plays went in the wrong direction,
and in the 1400s, the Church put a stop to them.
But, people loved the Paradise Tree;
so they started putting them up in their homes.
Over time, they added other decorations:
other fruit, nuts and candies,
and the wafers of bread became pastries.
Much later, someone invented glass ornaments,
and we still use them.
But notice even now,
we still have ornaments shaped like…fruit!
You still find food on the Tree: candy, chocolate,
garland made of popcorn and berries.
There’s one more connection to a tree,
mentioned in Scripture—
we heard about it in the Gospel:
a family Tree!
We just heard a long list of names—
the family tree that connects Abraham to Jesus.
Why do we hear that Gospel on Christmas Eve?
Because in becoming human, becoming a baby,
Jesus did two things at the same time:
He became part of our, human, family tree;
and he made it possible for us
to become part of his, supernatural family!
Through faith in Jesus Christ, when we are baptized,
we are “born again”—into a new family.
That family tree in the Gospel seemed long—
but imagine trying to list all the people
who are part of God’s Family,
because they believe in Jesus?
The list would go on…forever!
By accepting Jesus, and following Jesus,
you and I become part of that Family Tree.
God has a Tree, too—and he decorates his Tree
with all that is precious to him: each one of us!
Together with all the angels and saints,
you and I are the priceless treasures,
which Jesus gained by his dying and rising,
to give to his Father in heaven,
to decorate the heavenly Christmas Tree!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Update on various things
OK, for the last three people who read my blog, I owe some report on my doings these days...
As you know I was in Mexico. Great experience. Saw a lot of poverty but experienced a lot of faith and hope.
The first three days were in Mexico City, where I was so privileged to visit the Basilica where the miraculous image of our Lady of Guadalupe is on display. We were also able to visit some other sites in Mexico City and experience some of Mexican history and culture. Then we went south to Oaxaca: one of the three poorest states in Mexico, I was told by my hosts; if you look at a map of Mexico, the Pacific coast curves around at the bottom of Mexico. That's where I was.
This region is very mountainous, a lot like West Virginia, except very tropical. We visited several small towns in the Diocese of Puerto Escondito, as well as a bit in Huatulco, a little further down the coast.
Well, yes, it is true that it was very balmy and pleasant, and being by the ocean would not seem a hardship, while home was frozen! That said, I was not sunning myself on the beach; in fact, I only visited each beach one time for a short walk. Other than the time it took to travel from point-to-point--long enough anytime a large group of people is in motion, then worsened by the combination of many hills, many curves, and not the best roads--our time was spent visiting parishes and outlying communities, and meeting people and talking to them.
We were privileged to talk several times with Bishop Eduardo Camorra, who told us about his diocese--created six years ago--and who invited us to take part in Mass with him many times. He was extraordinarily kind and gracious, and it was reflected on the part of everyone else. He assigned one of his priests to be our shepherd and guide, Father Jaime, who was great fun and much help. He confirmed for me our intuition, that the meals that were served for us in the parishes we visited, involved real sacrifice on the part of our hosts.
Each place, we were served and well-fed, and given a chance to meet catechists and other lay leaders in the parishes. At one parish, the meal, while very good and more than enough, was nonetheless much simpler than the others. That was an index of the hardships of that very poor parish, as well as the great generosity of the people.
I stopped telling people I was pastor of two parishes, because there, a parish is more like our county, or even larger. The smallest parish included something like twenty communities, each with a chapel and a Catholic community; the distance, roads and lack of cars meant that everyone could not come to the central, parish church for Mass. The pastors told me they could get around, for Sunday Mass, in each community maybe two or three times a year. As a result, they couldn't reserve the Blessed Sacrament there, either, because the Eucharist has to be refreshed more frequently than that.
So picture that: you live in a small village, and the priest comes for Sunday Mass every four-to-six months, and in between, you can't even have the Holy Eucharist there. How blessed we are here!
You can see how important catechists are and local lay leaders who can gather folks both to learn the Faith and to pray together. You can also appreciate the threat of non-Catholic groups coming to win converts. This is a grave concern; for one reason, it creates divisions in the community. Mexico is deeply Catholic; it's as much a part of Mexico as your spine is a part of you.
Yet a curious thing about Mexico--it has a legacy of confrontation between the state and the Church. It got so bad during the 20s that priests were hunted and killed; and until not so long ago, priests weren't allowed to vote or wear clerical attire. As it is, religion is not taught in the schools, and at one time, the government forbade the Church to operate her own schools. I don't know if that is still the case. But you can see the problem.
Mexico also has a legacy of many injections of socialism, that it is slowly undoing. Example: touring Mexico City on a bus, the recorded explanation of the sights included reference to a monument celebrating the glorious expropriation of the petroleum industry. As it stands, we only saw Pemex gas stations everywhere. Mexico has--or has had--vast reserves of oil. I do not believe that a state-run monopoly gives the Mexican people the best value for that resource. Would you prefer such a thing here?
As we drove the roads, it routinely took far longer than it would here, because we have better, straighter roads. And it's not just the mountains--West Virginia has some wonderful roads, admittedly at great expense. One of the main roads was in the process of being widened to four lanes, and I commented how good that was; our host priest agreed. Yet one of our party--perhaps misunderstanding why I felt as I did, said: oh no, they shouldn't build more roads, they should just use more buses!
Well, in further-developed city and suburbs, that makes some sense. But in a rural area, where farmers have products they are desperate to sell to a larger market, and where there is a deep desire for more industry, more factories, to provide more opportunity (so said the bishop), there is no way that more buses on those terrible roads is going to do the job! Thankfully, that main road is being widened--that will help a lot in years to come, as will more good roads, if that can be accomplished.
Another experience I submit for your consideration. We visited a "co-op" in one town, where a group of 33 folks, mostly women, were working together to manufacture and sell soap and other cosmetic products. The goal is to produce products that are organic and environmentally friendly, as they put it. The project began, we were told, thanks to a Frenchwoman who provided the formulae for various cosmetic products, and helped arrange grant money and sponsorship from a non-profit group called Bio-Earth. (I just googled that without success, so I think I got the name wrong, sorry.) We were told Ms. Brodie was concerned about the destruction of some local species of turtle, and hoped that helping to create this co-op would lead to better things.
Well, I was very interested in knowing just how this worked in practice. Looking around at the facility, it was a very nice building--I wondered just how much was invested in that, but I didn't ask about that. I also noticed that no one was, that day, making any soap. It seemed to be a slow time, but having not a single person making soap concerned me. I did ask some questions of the woman showing us around--through a member of our party who translated for me.
I asked, if the 33 members of the co-op--the number is fixed, no one can be added (isn't that curious?)--work really hard, have a better year than planned, what happens to the profits--i.e., beyond the pay they earn through the year? The answer--confirmed by a followup--is that they do not receive it! Not a penny! Instead, the profits are distributed to other "projects" in the area, designed to do good things. I was told, by the one translating, "the point isn't to make people rich, but to help the environment." OK, but that suggests a model that can't be replicated very easily; and making these folks "rich" (i.e., richer--I doubt anyone is likely to become "rich" by any standard in this situation) would, to my addled mind, be very desirable, for the benefit of these workers' families and communities.
But I know what you may be thinking: if this is how they want to spend their earnings, that's their business. True. So, I asked, if the 33 folks wanted to change the business plan, to expand, or shift, their business, or simply to dissolve it, can they do that? Answer: no. The "whole community" would have to agree to that. I also asked, if a member of the co-op leaves the group, does s/he take anything with him or her? Nope--no equity in the corporation. I learned, along the way, that if the co-op has lean years, the foundation "helps out"--I assume that means with money.
So what do you make of that? Seems to me a project that appeals more to well-off folks from somewhere else, that no doubt does some good locally, but really, what they need is something that can be replicated and expanded. To be fair, I only have a part of the story.
The poverty in this part of Mexico was severe, yet it wasn't all I thought it would be. So many houses are just shacks, better ones are built from cement-blocks and corrugated steel, without glass windows. The warm temperatures and long dry spells mean you can do a lot of living outside, but still... One road we came down was dirt, and the plants on either side were coated in dust--as, I surmise, must have been the insides of many of those homes.
One such home had latrines--outhouses--out front, so that's a benefit. I never got inside, so I don't know what sort of floor the family had, nor if they had electricity or water. Often they draw water from a well; worse, from a river. As you've heard, even the municipal water is not drinkable, not even in Mexico City. Yet somehow folks bathe and keep things as clean as they can.
While visiting that home--I talked with a woman who was blind, and she and the woman and child she lived with had very little--a beggar-man came by, calling out something in Spanish. The sighted woman promptly rose, disappeared into the house, and came out with a handful of change. It looked like about a dollar's worth. She gave it to the beggar. I could have given him a $20 with no real sacrifice; I didn't do anything.
The faith is so deep and intense, perhaps too much for our tastes. People come to visit shrines, they come on foot, for days, carrying images on their backs. They arrive, and they approach on their knees. They pray intently before the Lord for the longest time, during Mass or outside it. The processions we witnessed involved great energy, devoted to joyous and raucous music and dancing, and they seemed not to tire.
There's certainly more to tell, but that will have to do for now...
As you know I was in Mexico. Great experience. Saw a lot of poverty but experienced a lot of faith and hope.
The first three days were in Mexico City, where I was so privileged to visit the Basilica where the miraculous image of our Lady of Guadalupe is on display. We were also able to visit some other sites in Mexico City and experience some of Mexican history and culture. Then we went south to Oaxaca: one of the three poorest states in Mexico, I was told by my hosts; if you look at a map of Mexico, the Pacific coast curves around at the bottom of Mexico. That's where I was.
This region is very mountainous, a lot like West Virginia, except very tropical. We visited several small towns in the Diocese of Puerto Escondito, as well as a bit in Huatulco, a little further down the coast.
Well, yes, it is true that it was very balmy and pleasant, and being by the ocean would not seem a hardship, while home was frozen! That said, I was not sunning myself on the beach; in fact, I only visited each beach one time for a short walk. Other than the time it took to travel from point-to-point--long enough anytime a large group of people is in motion, then worsened by the combination of many hills, many curves, and not the best roads--our time was spent visiting parishes and outlying communities, and meeting people and talking to them.
We were privileged to talk several times with Bishop Eduardo Camorra, who told us about his diocese--created six years ago--and who invited us to take part in Mass with him many times. He was extraordinarily kind and gracious, and it was reflected on the part of everyone else. He assigned one of his priests to be our shepherd and guide, Father Jaime, who was great fun and much help. He confirmed for me our intuition, that the meals that were served for us in the parishes we visited, involved real sacrifice on the part of our hosts.
Each place, we were served and well-fed, and given a chance to meet catechists and other lay leaders in the parishes. At one parish, the meal, while very good and more than enough, was nonetheless much simpler than the others. That was an index of the hardships of that very poor parish, as well as the great generosity of the people.
I stopped telling people I was pastor of two parishes, because there, a parish is more like our county, or even larger. The smallest parish included something like twenty communities, each with a chapel and a Catholic community; the distance, roads and lack of cars meant that everyone could not come to the central, parish church for Mass. The pastors told me they could get around, for Sunday Mass, in each community maybe two or three times a year. As a result, they couldn't reserve the Blessed Sacrament there, either, because the Eucharist has to be refreshed more frequently than that.
So picture that: you live in a small village, and the priest comes for Sunday Mass every four-to-six months, and in between, you can't even have the Holy Eucharist there. How blessed we are here!
You can see how important catechists are and local lay leaders who can gather folks both to learn the Faith and to pray together. You can also appreciate the threat of non-Catholic groups coming to win converts. This is a grave concern; for one reason, it creates divisions in the community. Mexico is deeply Catholic; it's as much a part of Mexico as your spine is a part of you.
Yet a curious thing about Mexico--it has a legacy of confrontation between the state and the Church. It got so bad during the 20s that priests were hunted and killed; and until not so long ago, priests weren't allowed to vote or wear clerical attire. As it is, religion is not taught in the schools, and at one time, the government forbade the Church to operate her own schools. I don't know if that is still the case. But you can see the problem.
Mexico also has a legacy of many injections of socialism, that it is slowly undoing. Example: touring Mexico City on a bus, the recorded explanation of the sights included reference to a monument celebrating the glorious expropriation of the petroleum industry. As it stands, we only saw Pemex gas stations everywhere. Mexico has--or has had--vast reserves of oil. I do not believe that a state-run monopoly gives the Mexican people the best value for that resource. Would you prefer such a thing here?
As we drove the roads, it routinely took far longer than it would here, because we have better, straighter roads. And it's not just the mountains--West Virginia has some wonderful roads, admittedly at great expense. One of the main roads was in the process of being widened to four lanes, and I commented how good that was; our host priest agreed. Yet one of our party--perhaps misunderstanding why I felt as I did, said: oh no, they shouldn't build more roads, they should just use more buses!
Well, in further-developed city and suburbs, that makes some sense. But in a rural area, where farmers have products they are desperate to sell to a larger market, and where there is a deep desire for more industry, more factories, to provide more opportunity (so said the bishop), there is no way that more buses on those terrible roads is going to do the job! Thankfully, that main road is being widened--that will help a lot in years to come, as will more good roads, if that can be accomplished.
Another experience I submit for your consideration. We visited a "co-op" in one town, where a group of 33 folks, mostly women, were working together to manufacture and sell soap and other cosmetic products. The goal is to produce products that are organic and environmentally friendly, as they put it. The project began, we were told, thanks to a Frenchwoman who provided the formulae for various cosmetic products, and helped arrange grant money and sponsorship from a non-profit group called Bio-Earth. (I just googled that without success, so I think I got the name wrong, sorry.) We were told Ms. Brodie was concerned about the destruction of some local species of turtle, and hoped that helping to create this co-op would lead to better things.
Well, I was very interested in knowing just how this worked in practice. Looking around at the facility, it was a very nice building--I wondered just how much was invested in that, but I didn't ask about that. I also noticed that no one was, that day, making any soap. It seemed to be a slow time, but having not a single person making soap concerned me. I did ask some questions of the woman showing us around--through a member of our party who translated for me.
I asked, if the 33 members of the co-op--the number is fixed, no one can be added (isn't that curious?)--work really hard, have a better year than planned, what happens to the profits--i.e., beyond the pay they earn through the year? The answer--confirmed by a followup--is that they do not receive it! Not a penny! Instead, the profits are distributed to other "projects" in the area, designed to do good things. I was told, by the one translating, "the point isn't to make people rich, but to help the environment." OK, but that suggests a model that can't be replicated very easily; and making these folks "rich" (i.e., richer--I doubt anyone is likely to become "rich" by any standard in this situation) would, to my addled mind, be very desirable, for the benefit of these workers' families and communities.
But I know what you may be thinking: if this is how they want to spend their earnings, that's their business. True. So, I asked, if the 33 folks wanted to change the business plan, to expand, or shift, their business, or simply to dissolve it, can they do that? Answer: no. The "whole community" would have to agree to that. I also asked, if a member of the co-op leaves the group, does s/he take anything with him or her? Nope--no equity in the corporation. I learned, along the way, that if the co-op has lean years, the foundation "helps out"--I assume that means with money.
So what do you make of that? Seems to me a project that appeals more to well-off folks from somewhere else, that no doubt does some good locally, but really, what they need is something that can be replicated and expanded. To be fair, I only have a part of the story.
The poverty in this part of Mexico was severe, yet it wasn't all I thought it would be. So many houses are just shacks, better ones are built from cement-blocks and corrugated steel, without glass windows. The warm temperatures and long dry spells mean you can do a lot of living outside, but still... One road we came down was dirt, and the plants on either side were coated in dust--as, I surmise, must have been the insides of many of those homes.
One such home had latrines--outhouses--out front, so that's a benefit. I never got inside, so I don't know what sort of floor the family had, nor if they had electricity or water. Often they draw water from a well; worse, from a river. As you've heard, even the municipal water is not drinkable, not even in Mexico City. Yet somehow folks bathe and keep things as clean as they can.
While visiting that home--I talked with a woman who was blind, and she and the woman and child she lived with had very little--a beggar-man came by, calling out something in Spanish. The sighted woman promptly rose, disappeared into the house, and came out with a handful of change. It looked like about a dollar's worth. She gave it to the beggar. I could have given him a $20 with no real sacrifice; I didn't do anything.
The faith is so deep and intense, perhaps too much for our tastes. People come to visit shrines, they come on foot, for days, carrying images on their backs. They arrive, and they approach on their knees. They pray intently before the Lord for the longest time, during Mass or outside it. The processions we witnessed involved great energy, devoted to joyous and raucous music and dancing, and they seemed not to tire.
There's certainly more to tell, but that will have to do for now...
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Back...
...from Mexico, all's well, a great adventure both of travel and faith.
Alas, too much waiting for me here, so I cannot post now. But comments are re-enabled.
Sorry I couldn't post while in Mexico; the Internet was available, but I didn't bring my laptop, and in any case, I was way too busy for that in any case.
Alas, too much waiting for me here, so I cannot post now. But comments are re-enabled.
Sorry I couldn't post while in Mexico; the Internet was available, but I didn't bring my laptop, and in any case, I was way too busy for that in any case.
Monday, December 07, 2009
Comments temporarily disabled...
Sorry, no offense meant--but I'll be unable to moderate any of the comments that may show up the next two weeks; and while it's rare, sometimes something offensive shows up. I'd hate to have that happen and be left hanging for two weeks.
Thanks for all the good wishes!
Thanks for all the good wishes!
heading to Mexico
I'm flying to Mexico rather early tomorrow, joining a trip sponsored by the Archdiocese's Mission office. A group of 14, including one other priest, is heading first to Mexico City and then to Puerto Escondito in Oaxaca, Mexico. Our purpose is to get to know the folks there better, especially in Oaxaca, which is where many of the Mexican immigrants to this area come from.
I signed up for this many months ago, hesitating because of the time of year, but electing to do it because otherwise it would be a missed opportunity that might not arise for longer than I imagined. Such is how opportunities work out.
So, as you can guess, I've been running about. I'm waiting for some laundry to be finished so I have enough clerical shirts, and of course I have to remember to take my passport!
I'll be gone until about the 19th.
I signed up for this many months ago, hesitating because of the time of year, but electing to do it because otherwise it would be a missed opportunity that might not arise for longer than I imagined. Such is how opportunities work out.
So, as you can guess, I've been running about. I'm waiting for some laundry to be finished so I have enough clerical shirts, and of course I have to remember to take my passport!
I'll be gone until about the 19th.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Catching up...
Sorry folks, it's just busy.
I'll do what I can to bring you up to date...
>Sunday, the Feast of Christ the King, is one of my favorite feast days. In my homily, I explained the origins of the day--established by Pope Pius XI in 1925, amidst a rising tide of statism and totalitarianism. I told the story of the German-American priest who wrote the hymn, "To Jesus Christ Our Sovereign King," written as a heart-felt rebuttal to the darkness overtaking his German homeland about that time. I also cited the oppression of the Church in Mexico about that time--where, when you said, "Viva Christo Rey!" it was right before you heard the crack of the rifle at your execution.
Then I talked about the challenges we face today; citing how when we exercised our rights and had an impact on abortion funding in the health-care bill, enraged members of Congress threatened the Church for daring to speak up. And I cited how the city of Washington, D.C., is preparing to redefine marriage, and compel everyone to go along with that, and the Archdiocese of Washington said, not so fast--we won't be able to provide social services the city currently pays us to provide. And that provoked vitriol from the powerful Washington Post. And I cited the member of Congress who calls us "bigots" for insisting marriage is man-woman.
I talked about what our Lord said in the Gospel--all who live in the truth hear my voice--but many today respond as Pilate did: "what is truth?" can we know it? The Lord will return--and it is our job to bring as many as possible to faith, so they receive his coming with joy, not dread. Who will share the truth with those hungry for it? That is our mission.
We lead others to Christ the King by making him king in our own lives. This is why many have an image of the Lord, a crucifix or the Sacred Heart, in their homes--declaring him king in that home. When we say grace in restaurants, our sign of the cross is a powerful witness. When we receive the Eucharist at Mass, he makes our hearts his throne, King in our own lives. Viva Christo Rey!
>I'm planning to go out of town in December, between the 8th and18th--I'm joining an Archdiocesan-sponsored trip to Mexico--so I have things to take care of before I go. One of which is scheduling meetings with staff, for an annual review. Remember, I'm an employer. It's good to do, I enjoy it, but it takes time and effort.
For example, a variety of things conspired today to require me to postpone an appointment for today, to tomorrow.
Oh, and I have things to do regarding the trip...all the usual things.
>Another project--we have a 24-hour chapel, with perpetual exposition of the Holy Eucharist--and I've been putting together a plan for some time to install new carpeting and some fresh paint. We have a group of volunteers to do it, led by a young man doing this for his Eagle Scout badge, and we finally got everything in place to go ahead. That will happen next week, from Dec. 1 to the 8th. So, today, I had to scramble to get the word out and get some stuff together for the bulletin. One of our active parishioners gave me a good suggestion, requiring, however, a change in plans--so that was today. Why today? Well, the bulletins have to be assembled tomorrow, due to Thanksgiving.
>Tonight, our parish liturgy commissions met for the third time. I started this recently, in response to requests and also because the time seemed right. Our plan borrows from the basic, Cursillo model: prayer, study, action. So the two commissions meet together, pray the Liturgy of the Hours together; then we study Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy from the Second Vatican Council; and down the road, after we've been well grounded in the Church's teaching and tradition, we will get to action. For example, I've been explaining to the folks about the new translation of the Mass coming down the pike.
That finished up at 8 pm; I checked in with the parochial vicar, covered some things, and then sat down to dinner--some leftover pork chops and some ramen noodles (cheap! easy! tasty!).
I'll do what I can to bring you up to date...
>Sunday, the Feast of Christ the King, is one of my favorite feast days. In my homily, I explained the origins of the day--established by Pope Pius XI in 1925, amidst a rising tide of statism and totalitarianism. I told the story of the German-American priest who wrote the hymn, "To Jesus Christ Our Sovereign King," written as a heart-felt rebuttal to the darkness overtaking his German homeland about that time. I also cited the oppression of the Church in Mexico about that time--where, when you said, "Viva Christo Rey!" it was right before you heard the crack of the rifle at your execution.
Then I talked about the challenges we face today; citing how when we exercised our rights and had an impact on abortion funding in the health-care bill, enraged members of Congress threatened the Church for daring to speak up. And I cited how the city of Washington, D.C., is preparing to redefine marriage, and compel everyone to go along with that, and the Archdiocese of Washington said, not so fast--we won't be able to provide social services the city currently pays us to provide. And that provoked vitriol from the powerful Washington Post. And I cited the member of Congress who calls us "bigots" for insisting marriage is man-woman.
I talked about what our Lord said in the Gospel--all who live in the truth hear my voice--but many today respond as Pilate did: "what is truth?" can we know it? The Lord will return--and it is our job to bring as many as possible to faith, so they receive his coming with joy, not dread. Who will share the truth with those hungry for it? That is our mission.
We lead others to Christ the King by making him king in our own lives. This is why many have an image of the Lord, a crucifix or the Sacred Heart, in their homes--declaring him king in that home. When we say grace in restaurants, our sign of the cross is a powerful witness. When we receive the Eucharist at Mass, he makes our hearts his throne, King in our own lives. Viva Christo Rey!
>I'm planning to go out of town in December, between the 8th and18th--I'm joining an Archdiocesan-sponsored trip to Mexico--so I have things to take care of before I go. One of which is scheduling meetings with staff, for an annual review. Remember, I'm an employer. It's good to do, I enjoy it, but it takes time and effort.
For example, a variety of things conspired today to require me to postpone an appointment for today, to tomorrow.
Oh, and I have things to do regarding the trip...all the usual things.
>Another project--we have a 24-hour chapel, with perpetual exposition of the Holy Eucharist--and I've been putting together a plan for some time to install new carpeting and some fresh paint. We have a group of volunteers to do it, led by a young man doing this for his Eagle Scout badge, and we finally got everything in place to go ahead. That will happen next week, from Dec. 1 to the 8th. So, today, I had to scramble to get the word out and get some stuff together for the bulletin. One of our active parishioners gave me a good suggestion, requiring, however, a change in plans--so that was today. Why today? Well, the bulletins have to be assembled tomorrow, due to Thanksgiving.
>Tonight, our parish liturgy commissions met for the third time. I started this recently, in response to requests and also because the time seemed right. Our plan borrows from the basic, Cursillo model: prayer, study, action. So the two commissions meet together, pray the Liturgy of the Hours together; then we study Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy from the Second Vatican Council; and down the road, after we've been well grounded in the Church's teaching and tradition, we will get to action. For example, I've been explaining to the folks about the new translation of the Mass coming down the pike.
That finished up at 8 pm; I checked in with the parochial vicar, covered some things, and then sat down to dinner--some leftover pork chops and some ramen noodles (cheap! easy! tasty!).
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
'Just enough...until the Lord sends rain' (Sunday homily)
(From notes)
In the first reading, the prophet Elijah asks for "a bit of bread"--
and when the widow hesitates, he promises
that her store "shall not run dry until the day when the Lord sends rain."
The text suggests that the promise is not that her supplies would overflow--
but that there would be just enough each day; until the rains come.
We might chose to see this passage symbolically--
with the rain as the Holy Spirit falling on the earth to bring life--revival.
We certainly need that.
We live in strange times, in which things we would have taken for granted
are under constant assault.
Who would have thought it would be necessary to vote to protect the institution of marriage;
and on Tuesday, the state of Maine did just that, by a close margin.
Father Tom and I were in Columbus on Thursday and Friday,
along with all the bishops of the state, and 700 priests from the whole state.
The U.S. bishops are preparing a letter on marriage,
and we were there to reflect on it and to prepare for when it is issued.
We heard some bad news about the state of things, and hopeful news.
On our drive back home, we talked about
how we could best use what we heard and talked about to help couples.
And I would ask you--tell us, what can we do to help you?
Whatever little bit you may have to offer, please share it with us. We want to help.
These are strange times. The faith of many seems so weak,
as people sometimes drift off and we wonder why.
We need rain; we need revival!
How will that come? Our prayers--our faith--offered for revival.
You may feel you haven't much to offer, but put it in, all the same.
If we continue to see this passage as symbolic,
we might see the woman as the Church, and the son as us.
It is here that we come, and we find enough to get us through.
In the back of church is a bit of bread. It's not very fancy;
we could get nicer, fancier bread at Panera, or make it ourselves--but that isn't the point.
The Lord takes just a handful, and transforms it into himself.
And it is enough! Enough to sustain us, day by day: "give us this day our daily Bread."
That's why we come here. We find what we need here.
And we put in what we have, while we pray for rain.
In the first reading, the prophet Elijah asks for "a bit of bread"--
and when the widow hesitates, he promises
that her store "shall not run dry until the day when the Lord sends rain."
The text suggests that the promise is not that her supplies would overflow--
but that there would be just enough each day; until the rains come.
We might chose to see this passage symbolically--
with the rain as the Holy Spirit falling on the earth to bring life--revival.
We certainly need that.
We live in strange times, in which things we would have taken for granted
are under constant assault.
Who would have thought it would be necessary to vote to protect the institution of marriage;
and on Tuesday, the state of Maine did just that, by a close margin.
Father Tom and I were in Columbus on Thursday and Friday,
along with all the bishops of the state, and 700 priests from the whole state.
The U.S. bishops are preparing a letter on marriage,
and we were there to reflect on it and to prepare for when it is issued.
We heard some bad news about the state of things, and hopeful news.
On our drive back home, we talked about
how we could best use what we heard and talked about to help couples.
And I would ask you--tell us, what can we do to help you?
Whatever little bit you may have to offer, please share it with us. We want to help.
These are strange times. The faith of many seems so weak,
as people sometimes drift off and we wonder why.
We need rain; we need revival!
How will that come? Our prayers--our faith--offered for revival.
You may feel you haven't much to offer, but put it in, all the same.
If we continue to see this passage as symbolic,
we might see the woman as the Church, and the son as us.
It is here that we come, and we find enough to get us through.
In the back of church is a bit of bread. It's not very fancy;
we could get nicer, fancier bread at Panera, or make it ourselves--but that isn't the point.
The Lord takes just a handful, and transforms it into himself.
And it is enough! Enough to sustain us, day by day: "give us this day our daily Bread."
That's why we come here. We find what we need here.
And we put in what we have, while we pray for rain.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
I'm sure you've heard about the lovely songs schools have taught the children to sing to our President. Since it's so popular to do these days, I thought of some additional lyrics they could sing:
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
He’s the Leader, he’s divine
And everyone should get in line
Or give them reeducation time!
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
Let the gummint take the lead
And provide for you your every need
Free to you, cuz the rich we’ll bleed!
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
Grammies looking a little wan
Here’s a counselor to help you plan
It’s patriotic, don’t you understand?
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Belated biretta-tip to Instapundit
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
He’s the Leader, he’s divine
And everyone should get in line
Or give them reeducation time!
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
Let the gummint take the lead
And provide for you your every need
Free to you, cuz the rich we’ll bleed!
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
Grammies looking a little wan
Here’s a counselor to help you plan
It’s patriotic, don’t you understand?
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Belated biretta-tip to Instapundit
Monday, November 02, 2009
Reason #1,378...
not to take sharing your faith with your children for granted illustrated here.
(If you read closely, you'll see that both are Catholic...)
(If you read closely, you'll see that both are Catholic...)
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Other happenings on Omnium Sanctorum
I just ducked into the balcony of St. Mary Church for the second half of the Mass offered by our parochial vicar. I wanted to be there before the Liturgy of the Eucharist began, because our junior high choir was providing music at Sunday Mass for the first time. Our music director, who also teaches in the school, and I have been wanting to do this for some time--to have our schoolchildren form choirs and provide music as part of Mass regularly throughout the year. We of course want our schoolchildren to learn the importance of music as part of Mass, but we also hope this will reinforce the importance of Sunday Mass for all our families (it is a sad reality that some families will send their children to Catholic school but not attend Sunday Mass).
They did well--they sung the standard, Gregorian Sanctus and Agnus Dei--using the simplest setting that the bishops recommend be introduced into every parish; they led us in "Be Not Afraid" as a communion hymn and "For all the Saints" as a closing hymn. After communion they sang a more contemporary piece--the name of which I do not know--that is a meditation on the Lord's Prayer. It is a very nice piece and they did it well. After the final hymn, they sang a more rousing piece--again, I don't know the name, but if someone from our music program visits here, can you give that information in the comments?
These two contemporary pieces were well chosen and well done--and they belie the notion that we must choose either ancient or modern. The issue is not that modern or contemporary has no place, but rather, the right sort of music that is appropriate for the liturgy, and turns our hearts and minds not inward, but upward and forward--to the Lord who saves us. They did well!
Our vicar, Father Tom, also wore a new, brilliant vestment which was generously donated by the St. Mary Altar Society. I hope to have a photo of the vestment, as soon as I get someone to take a picture of me (or Father Tom) in it. The chasuble, stole and chalice veil were blessed--by me--right before 9 am Mass, and then I used them for the first time.
I obtained the vestment from Saint Bede Studio, after scanning the web for companies to have make a vestment for us. My goal was something a little different--and I was intrigued when I saw a style of chasuble on the St. Bede blog that was worn by St. Philip Neri, St. Charles Borromeo and St. Ignatius Loyola. If you go here, you'll see a post about "a priest from Ohio"--could that be me?--ordering a vestment remarkably similar to the one I obtained!
Later today, I'll stop by a picnic organized by some of our families, including the aforementioned music director and family. The gathering is notable for one feature--it's all our families with four or more children! With great thanks to God, we have a number of families who are--as I like to put it--doing their best to repopulate Western Civilization. It is tremendously encouraging to me and to all of us, and I look forward to stopping by.
Still later, the youth group will have a gathering, starting in the basement of the rectory-office at St. Boniface, focusing on the saints--and as part of that, we'll have a procession to the chapel for solemn Mass--the idea is to recall the catacombs experience of the early Church. After Mass, we'll have a bonfire and 'smores--which allegedly came down from the early Church, but I cannot find a citation for that just now...
They did well--they sung the standard, Gregorian Sanctus and Agnus Dei--using the simplest setting that the bishops recommend be introduced into every parish; they led us in "Be Not Afraid" as a communion hymn and "For all the Saints" as a closing hymn. After communion they sang a more contemporary piece--the name of which I do not know--that is a meditation on the Lord's Prayer. It is a very nice piece and they did it well. After the final hymn, they sang a more rousing piece--again, I don't know the name, but if someone from our music program visits here, can you give that information in the comments?
These two contemporary pieces were well chosen and well done--and they belie the notion that we must choose either ancient or modern. The issue is not that modern or contemporary has no place, but rather, the right sort of music that is appropriate for the liturgy, and turns our hearts and minds not inward, but upward and forward--to the Lord who saves us. They did well!
Our vicar, Father Tom, also wore a new, brilliant vestment which was generously donated by the St. Mary Altar Society. I hope to have a photo of the vestment, as soon as I get someone to take a picture of me (or Father Tom) in it. The chasuble, stole and chalice veil were blessed--by me--right before 9 am Mass, and then I used them for the first time.
I obtained the vestment from Saint Bede Studio, after scanning the web for companies to have make a vestment for us. My goal was something a little different--and I was intrigued when I saw a style of chasuble on the St. Bede blog that was worn by St. Philip Neri, St. Charles Borromeo and St. Ignatius Loyola. If you go here, you'll see a post about "a priest from Ohio"--could that be me?--ordering a vestment remarkably similar to the one I obtained!
Later today, I'll stop by a picnic organized by some of our families, including the aforementioned music director and family. The gathering is notable for one feature--it's all our families with four or more children! With great thanks to God, we have a number of families who are--as I like to put it--doing their best to repopulate Western Civilization. It is tremendously encouraging to me and to all of us, and I look forward to stopping by.
Still later, the youth group will have a gathering, starting in the basement of the rectory-office at St. Boniface, focusing on the saints--and as part of that, we'll have a procession to the chapel for solemn Mass--the idea is to recall the catacombs experience of the early Church. After Mass, we'll have a bonfire and 'smores--which allegedly came down from the early Church, but I cannot find a citation for that just now...
'The saints are the health of the world' (All Saints homily)
(I will recount my homily as best I can from memory, I had no notes.)
As it happens, we might call today "Health Sunday"--because I have a couple of items to share with you concerning our health--and this seems the best way to do it.
First. Given the flu season, there are many with concerns, and after talking to Father Tom and Father Ang, we wanted to offer the following precautions:
1) Since shaking hands is a very effective way to spread germs, please don't feel you have to shake hands at the sign of peace. This is a symbolic sign of the peace Christ gives us. If you are a little under the weather, or you aren't so sure about the nice person next to you, you don't have to shake hands--maybe a head-nod or a wave instead.
2) If you are feeling a little under the weather, and you don't come to Mass because you don't want to spread it, that's not a sin, that's being very considerate. If you know of anyone who isn't coming to Mass and would like to receive holy communion, call the parish office so we can do that.
3) If you came to Mass and you feel a little under the weather, you don't have to drink from the cup. We receive all of Jesus in the Eucharist, whether we receive the host or the cup. Not drinking from the cup when you're a little germ-y or cough-y is very considerate of others. If there is anyone for whom this creates a problem, please let me know after Mass.
4) We are so grateful for those who help distribute the Eucharist at Mass--and I would just suggest that they may want to get some hand-sanitizer and use it just before they come forward.
Second health item. This is something Archbishop Pilarczyk wants me to bring to your attention. We are all aware of Congress debating health-care legislation that will affect all of us. And for some time, the bishops have been raising the concern that whatever legislation is passed, it not include funding to promote or pay for abortions, among other concerns.
Unfortunately, thus far Congress has not heeded that concern--so the bills now under consideration would use our tax money to promote abortion. In your bulletins today is this orange handout (hold up handout)--it has other information on the back, so look at both sides--and it provides all the information you need. Also, it provides a way you and I can contact Congress right away to voice our views. As Catholics and as citizens, we have the right--and the duty--to speak up; and things are moving fast, so don't wait, we need to act now.
Now, what does all that about health have to do with the saints? I thought about that; and I realized: the saints are the health of the world. Everyone in this world who has the Holy Spirit active in his or her life, following the grace of Christ--that means all of us, but the saints especially, who do so in heroic ways--this is essential for the health of the world. Consider for a moment: what if, at midnight, everyone who followed the Lord ceased to be in the world? What would happen? What would the world be like? No one to be a peacemaker; no one to offer reconciliation in response to anger; no one to lead others in a life of discipline and holiness.
I don't want to think about that world, and thankfully, we won't find out--because the world is filled with Christians, and the grace of Christ is at work through us all--and the world needs us!
Who can forget when Mother Theresa won the Nobel Prize, and stood before the world, and said it was a terrible poverty to destroy children in abortion? What a difference St. Damien of Molokai, John Paul, Maximilian Kolbe, and so many others, have made in the world!
Now, there's another thing. How many saints are present, right here? I don't mean the saints who are present with us spiritually at Mass--I mean you! I know what you're thinking, "I'm not a saint!" But when you were baptized, you became a saint. As I tell the parents and godparents, that's the easy part; the hard part is staying a saint. That's why their task is so important.
But how blessed we are that God doesn't just give us one shot--and if we mess up after baptism, too bad, hope you have an asbestos suit for the afterlife! No! God gives us every possible help to persevere. We are made saints in baptism, and if we mess up, we can renew the newness of baptism in the sacrament of confession.
What if I told you that, if you stepped into the box back there, when you came out, all debts would be gone? I suspect some of us wouldn't wait for Mass to end--you'd be back there! Wouldn't that be wonderful? That's what happens in confession--the debt of sin, wiped away! How wonderful!
Above all, the Lord gives us the Eucharist--where we are united to the One who will take us to heaven. Through the Eucharist, we are joined to him--and as long as we hold onto him, we have nothing to fear, because he is taking us to heaven.
We are called to be saints. If we make it to heaven, that's what we'll be; there's no economy class in heaven! We will all be saints.
Think of those who run marathons. I don't run marathons, in case you haven't figured that out! But I've seen it done! What happens? The men and women who are running, maybe after 10, or 15 or so miles, they get tired, they flag, they are running down. And what do those who have finished the race do? They are standing there, saying, "come on! you can do it! you can make it! keep coming, keep running, don't give up, go, go go!"
That's what the saints are doing for us. They are cheering us on from heaven, supporting us with their prayers--they want us to make it! So that what the first reading from Revelation described is fulfilled: a number, too great to count, of all those who have been washed clean in the Blood of the Lamb, and who have overcome, are gathered together.
That's us! That's our hope.
As it happens, we might call today "Health Sunday"--because I have a couple of items to share with you concerning our health--and this seems the best way to do it.
First. Given the flu season, there are many with concerns, and after talking to Father Tom and Father Ang, we wanted to offer the following precautions:
1) Since shaking hands is a very effective way to spread germs, please don't feel you have to shake hands at the sign of peace. This is a symbolic sign of the peace Christ gives us. If you are a little under the weather, or you aren't so sure about the nice person next to you, you don't have to shake hands--maybe a head-nod or a wave instead.
2) If you are feeling a little under the weather, and you don't come to Mass because you don't want to spread it, that's not a sin, that's being very considerate. If you know of anyone who isn't coming to Mass and would like to receive holy communion, call the parish office so we can do that.
3) If you came to Mass and you feel a little under the weather, you don't have to drink from the cup. We receive all of Jesus in the Eucharist, whether we receive the host or the cup. Not drinking from the cup when you're a little germ-y or cough-y is very considerate of others. If there is anyone for whom this creates a problem, please let me know after Mass.
4) We are so grateful for those who help distribute the Eucharist at Mass--and I would just suggest that they may want to get some hand-sanitizer and use it just before they come forward.
Second health item. This is something Archbishop Pilarczyk wants me to bring to your attention. We are all aware of Congress debating health-care legislation that will affect all of us. And for some time, the bishops have been raising the concern that whatever legislation is passed, it not include funding to promote or pay for abortions, among other concerns.
Unfortunately, thus far Congress has not heeded that concern--so the bills now under consideration would use our tax money to promote abortion. In your bulletins today is this orange handout (hold up handout)--it has other information on the back, so look at both sides--and it provides all the information you need. Also, it provides a way you and I can contact Congress right away to voice our views. As Catholics and as citizens, we have the right--and the duty--to speak up; and things are moving fast, so don't wait, we need to act now.
Now, what does all that about health have to do with the saints? I thought about that; and I realized: the saints are the health of the world. Everyone in this world who has the Holy Spirit active in his or her life, following the grace of Christ--that means all of us, but the saints especially, who do so in heroic ways--this is essential for the health of the world. Consider for a moment: what if, at midnight, everyone who followed the Lord ceased to be in the world? What would happen? What would the world be like? No one to be a peacemaker; no one to offer reconciliation in response to anger; no one to lead others in a life of discipline and holiness.
I don't want to think about that world, and thankfully, we won't find out--because the world is filled with Christians, and the grace of Christ is at work through us all--and the world needs us!
Who can forget when Mother Theresa won the Nobel Prize, and stood before the world, and said it was a terrible poverty to destroy children in abortion? What a difference St. Damien of Molokai, John Paul, Maximilian Kolbe, and so many others, have made in the world!
Now, there's another thing. How many saints are present, right here? I don't mean the saints who are present with us spiritually at Mass--I mean you! I know what you're thinking, "I'm not a saint!" But when you were baptized, you became a saint. As I tell the parents and godparents, that's the easy part; the hard part is staying a saint. That's why their task is so important.
But how blessed we are that God doesn't just give us one shot--and if we mess up after baptism, too bad, hope you have an asbestos suit for the afterlife! No! God gives us every possible help to persevere. We are made saints in baptism, and if we mess up, we can renew the newness of baptism in the sacrament of confession.
What if I told you that, if you stepped into the box back there, when you came out, all debts would be gone? I suspect some of us wouldn't wait for Mass to end--you'd be back there! Wouldn't that be wonderful? That's what happens in confession--the debt of sin, wiped away! How wonderful!
Above all, the Lord gives us the Eucharist--where we are united to the One who will take us to heaven. Through the Eucharist, we are joined to him--and as long as we hold onto him, we have nothing to fear, because he is taking us to heaven.
We are called to be saints. If we make it to heaven, that's what we'll be; there's no economy class in heaven! We will all be saints.
Think of those who run marathons. I don't run marathons, in case you haven't figured that out! But I've seen it done! What happens? The men and women who are running, maybe after 10, or 15 or so miles, they get tired, they flag, they are running down. And what do those who have finished the race do? They are standing there, saying, "come on! you can do it! you can make it! keep coming, keep running, don't give up, go, go go!"
That's what the saints are doing for us. They are cheering us on from heaven, supporting us with their prayers--they want us to make it! So that what the first reading from Revelation described is fulfilled: a number, too great to count, of all those who have been washed clean in the Blood of the Lamb, and who have overcome, are gathered together.
That's us! That's our hope.
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