What if you and I were not here in church, in Russia,
but we were walking in downtown Columbus or Dayton or Cincinnati?
And a man runs up to us and asks to know your name?
What would be your reaction? Your immediate reaction?
Are you entirely comfortable giving him your name? Your full name?
I’m guessing not. I’m guessing that you would, like me,
find that uncomfortable and awkward.
If someone asked me that, my first question would be, why do you ask?
The point is, sharing my name with someone is a kind of intimacy.
It opens up unknown possibilities. There’s a risk involved.
In the first reading, Moses asks to know God’s Name.
He wants to draw closer to God.
After all, Moses and God’s People had been in slavery
for over 400 years.
The stories of what God did in Abraham’s life,
in the lives of Isaac and Jacob and Joseph, were all distant memories.
Perhaps even God himself seemed very distant.
So notice, God tells Moses, “I am the God of your fathers,
the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob.”
Remember them?
Then Moses asks, but the people will want to know your name.
In Hebrew – the language in which this was written –
names far more significance than just what something is called.
As scholar John Bergsma explains,
“in Hebrew culture, the “name” designated the essence or being
of the person” – it’s not just what someone is called.
So what God tells Moses – when he says, “I AM WHO AM” –
he is revealing his true nature: he is the One who truly and fully exists;
he is being and existence in himself.
He is the Source; everything depends on him for existence and life.
Think about what was happening to God’s People in Egypt.
They were slaves. Their lives didn’t belong to themselves;
they belonged to Pharaoh.
As far as Pharaoh was concerned, he was their existence;
he was their god.
This is a challenge and temptation we all face:
what is the real purpose and center of my life?
What things in my life are too important?
What shapes my life, other than God?
Of course we all need to make a living;
so we need our jobs, our farms, our businesses.
But that doesn’t mean they have to become our Pharaoh.
One of the most important things we can do is to consecrate our work,
our farms, our businesses, to God.
The Morning Offering prayer is an easy way to do that;
as well as pausing during our work day to remember that God is our god,
not our job, and not anything else on this earth.
A lot of us have consecrated our homes to the Sacred Heart.
If you haven’t done this, and you want to know how, let me know.
By the way, this is one of the reasons the Sabbath is important.
The slaves in Egypt didn’t get any Sabbath, any day off.
Every day, they belonged to Pharaoh.
When they left Egypt, they began to have a day of rest,
which means they were free.
It’s interesting that today, something similar happens.
People have debts, or are struggling to make a living,
and what’s the result?
They have to work an extra job, or two,
and then they are back in Egypt: no Sabbath, no day of rest.
We can understand those who work on Sunday because they have to.
But not everyone has to. Sometimes we choose to.
What god are we serving when we do that?
But I want to go back to this encounter Moses had with God.
God revealed his name – his true nature – to Moses,
that he is Life, Existence, Being-in-itself.
Now, go back with me to the very beginning, Adam and Eve.
God gives them existence. They have everything.
Then they sin; they fail to trust God, and turn from him.
And if you will recall,
Genesis says that they tried to hide themselves from God.
Do you realize what happened at that moment?
They lost the center of themselves.
That’s what turning from God did to them.
One moment they were united to Existence, to Life; and bam!
They lost it. Can we even imagine what that might have been like?
It must have been staggering.
This is what we call Original Sin.
We all “inherit” that same poverty, that hole in our chests,
where God belongs.
And what do we do? We find ways to fill it.
Work; sports; sex; food, alcohol, money; friends. There’s a long list.
That loss of God is the problem we all have in common.
It’s why we need to be baptized;
it’s why parents do well to bring their children for baptism
soon after birth.
Baptism isn’t the last step, but the first.
This is why we need to learn who Jesus is,
and why it’s so important we help one another find him.
We need his friendship.
He fills that hole in our lives.
That’s why Jesus said: do you think those folks the tower fell on
were worse than you? We’re all in the same boat.
We all have that hole in our soul. Only Jesus will fill it.
If you’re not sure what Lent is for,
and what you’re trying to accomplish, then there’s your task.
Forget the other stuff that isn’t filling that need.
Seek friendship with Jesus. Talk to him.
Seek him in the sacrament of confession.
Let him accompany you in your day.
Let him make your life fruitful.
He will fill that hole.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Sunday, February 21, 2016
What more can God do? What more do we want? (Sunday homily)
Let’s begin with this strange scene in the first reading.
Before I explain the passage, recall some facts about Abram.
God has called him from his homeland –
the city of Ur, in what is today Iraq –
to travel a long distance to what is now Israel and Palestine.
Abram is already an old man, and he has no children –
so he has a lot of reasons to doubt his future,
and to doubt the promises God has made.
So notice how the passage begins. God “took him outside and said:
Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can.
Just so, he added, will your descendants be.”
Now, I wonder how many of you noticed something.
The passage, a few lines later, describes the sun going down –
meaning, it’s daytime when God does this!
Why would God do that? Well, because it fit Abram’s situation.
God said, look up at the stars; Abram is thinking, but I can’t see them.
That’s right, Abram, just as you can’t see your offspring.
But those stars are up there, whether you can see them or not.
And your future is real, even if you can’t see it.
Then God promises Abram would have all the land.
And when Abram says, how do I know?
That’s when we have this strange ritual.
At God’s command, Abram cuts up several animals
and lays them on the ground. Then he waits.
As he waits, darkness falls and is terrified.
And in the dark, he sees a “smoking fire pot and a flaming torch,
which passed between those pieces” of animal carcasses.
This ritual was intended to work like this:
after the animals are laid out,
the people forming the covenant would walk between them,
in effect saying to each other, may what happened to the animals,
happen to me, if I do not honor my promises to you.
And who walked between the pieces of the animals?
Abram did not; he watched. But God did.
That’s what the torch and the firepot signify.
A covenant goes beyond a contract or a business agreement.
I have a business relationship with my insurance company.
I haven’t given my whole life to them. If I like another company better,
I can cancel that contract and make a new one.
But a covenant binds one whole person to another; and it’s forever.
By the way, here is the whole misunderstanding about marriage.
Lots of people think it’s a contract; but God says it’s a covenant –
which is what the Catholic Church teaches.
But the truly amazing thing to notice
is that God made a covenant with a human being – with his creature.
As I said to the folks at Mass Saturday morning,
a parent might make a covenant with your children.
But those of you who have livestock,
I’m certain you don’t make covenants with them.
When they get fat enough, off to market they go!
We are God’s creatures. And yet he made a covenant with Abram;
and then, at Sinai, with the Children of Israel.
And then, at the Cross,
he made a “new and eternal covenant” with all of us.
This is what connects the first reading with the Gospel.
In each case, God is giving a reassurance.
To Abram, he performs a familiar ritual.
To the Apostles, Jesus shows the fullness of his glory as God.
He’s on the way to Jerusalem, to the Cross –
he’s told the Apostles this,
and that’s what he and Moses and Elijah were discussing.
This revelation of his glory lets them know: you can believe Me.
The other connection is even more astounding.
When God made this covenant with Abram,
he said, in effect, death will come to me if I do not keep my promises.
In fact, God did keep his promises to Abraham.
And yet – what happened with the Cross?
Jesus, the God-Man, surrendered himself, and was killed!
What more can God do?
Do you have trouble trusting God? Abram did. The Apostles did.
That’s what these signs were about:
letting them know he would keep his promises.
OK, so what is God going to do for me? Where’s my sign?
What do you think the Holy Mass is?
Before your very eyes, Jesus Christ executes his covenant –
here, on this altar.
He lays himself out; he gives himself, totally.
What more do we want?
Before I explain the passage, recall some facts about Abram.
God has called him from his homeland –
the city of Ur, in what is today Iraq –
to travel a long distance to what is now Israel and Palestine.
Abram is already an old man, and he has no children –
so he has a lot of reasons to doubt his future,
and to doubt the promises God has made.
So notice how the passage begins. God “took him outside and said:
Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can.
Just so, he added, will your descendants be.”
Now, I wonder how many of you noticed something.
The passage, a few lines later, describes the sun going down –
meaning, it’s daytime when God does this!
Why would God do that? Well, because it fit Abram’s situation.
God said, look up at the stars; Abram is thinking, but I can’t see them.
That’s right, Abram, just as you can’t see your offspring.
But those stars are up there, whether you can see them or not.
And your future is real, even if you can’t see it.
Then God promises Abram would have all the land.
And when Abram says, how do I know?
That’s when we have this strange ritual.
At God’s command, Abram cuts up several animals
and lays them on the ground. Then he waits.
As he waits, darkness falls and is terrified.
And in the dark, he sees a “smoking fire pot and a flaming torch,
which passed between those pieces” of animal carcasses.
This ritual was intended to work like this:
after the animals are laid out,
the people forming the covenant would walk between them,
in effect saying to each other, may what happened to the animals,
happen to me, if I do not honor my promises to you.
And who walked between the pieces of the animals?
Abram did not; he watched. But God did.
That’s what the torch and the firepot signify.
A covenant goes beyond a contract or a business agreement.
I have a business relationship with my insurance company.
I haven’t given my whole life to them. If I like another company better,
I can cancel that contract and make a new one.
But a covenant binds one whole person to another; and it’s forever.
By the way, here is the whole misunderstanding about marriage.
Lots of people think it’s a contract; but God says it’s a covenant –
which is what the Catholic Church teaches.
But the truly amazing thing to notice
is that God made a covenant with a human being – with his creature.
As I said to the folks at Mass Saturday morning,
a parent might make a covenant with your children.
But those of you who have livestock,
I’m certain you don’t make covenants with them.
When they get fat enough, off to market they go!
We are God’s creatures. And yet he made a covenant with Abram;
and then, at Sinai, with the Children of Israel.
And then, at the Cross,
he made a “new and eternal covenant” with all of us.
This is what connects the first reading with the Gospel.
In each case, God is giving a reassurance.
To Abram, he performs a familiar ritual.
To the Apostles, Jesus shows the fullness of his glory as God.
He’s on the way to Jerusalem, to the Cross –
he’s told the Apostles this,
and that’s what he and Moses and Elijah were discussing.
This revelation of his glory lets them know: you can believe Me.
The other connection is even more astounding.
When God made this covenant with Abram,
he said, in effect, death will come to me if I do not keep my promises.
In fact, God did keep his promises to Abraham.
And yet – what happened with the Cross?
Jesus, the God-Man, surrendered himself, and was killed!
What more can God do?
Do you have trouble trusting God? Abram did. The Apostles did.
That’s what these signs were about:
letting them know he would keep his promises.
OK, so what is God going to do for me? Where’s my sign?
What do you think the Holy Mass is?
Before your very eyes, Jesus Christ executes his covenant –
here, on this altar.
He lays himself out; he gives himself, totally.
What more do we want?
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Go to confession! (Sunday homily)
Jesus spent 40 days in the desert; we have 40 days of Lent.
The connection is obvious. Our Lord,
who became man to be in solidarity with us –
to fight not just for us, but side-by-side with us – leads us into battle.
And the three temptations from the devil sum up all that tempts us.
Like Jesus, we are tempted by the flesh, by worldly greed,
and by the arrogance of power.
One way to understand the temptations
the devil presents to Jesus is this.
The devil appeals to that part of us that says,
take the shortcut; go ahead and cheat to get ahead;
win through power.
The devil tells Jesus: you can have all the kingdoms of the world –
meaning, all the souls they contain –
and you only need to do one, little thing: just worship me.
This is how a lot of temptation works out for us. Take the shortcut.
We have candidates for public office saying, sure, let’s use torture.
Others say, sure, we take unborn children, at the early stage of life,
and destroy them for “research,” but they justify it,
because it’ll go for a good cause.
The state of California recently legalized killing sick people –
so called “assisted suicide.” After all, it’ll save money.
A lot of this is also about the arrogance of power.
We are unwilling to let God be God. We want to be God.
The whole movement today, not only for redefining marriage;
it’s moved now to redefining what male and female mean.
The bottom line is arrogance of power.
Who cares what God has designed? We are god.
We make our own design.
And so you have scientists who want to manipulate human life
at the genetic level, and “edit” the genetic structure of life.
They want to create babies on order;
and they want to mix human and non-human genes together.
But let’s come back to where you and I are.
The main battlefield most of us will face
is not 1,000 miles away, not 100, not even one mile away.
It’s inside us: our own heart.
It’s in the choices we make
from when the alarm clock buzzes in the morning
until we return to bed each night.
It’s in what we do at work each day,
and on the Internet each afternoon and evening.
In the words we share with our families –
and in the refusal to share ourselves with one another.
Our hearts are the battlefield.
And this Lent is our time to enter into desert silence,
so that we’re alone with ourselves.
Who among us can say, I don’t need this?
I have no temptations; I have no weaknesses to overcome?
The one man who really could say that was Jesus Christ.
And he went into the desert.
He went there to say, you’re kidding yourself
if you think you can win these battles
without prayer, without cost, without Me!
There are lots of tools that help us.
We know three of them: fasting and self denial. Prayer.
Giving generously to others, especially the poor.
Under the rubric of prayer, let me highlight
the most powerful weapon of all. The sacrament of confession.
I go to confession about every 2-3 weeks; although, at present,
I’m overdue. So I promise, I’m going to go this week if I possibly can.
What do I confess? Like a lot of people,
I tend to confess the same sins again and again.
That said, I can tell you:
there are some sins I don’t confess very often anymore.
Over the years, with help from God prompting my conscience,
and the priest giving counsel,
and my own desire to make something happen,
and going back to confession again, and again, and again,
I have beaten down some of my sins.
I don’t know that anyone is ever cured, this side of Purgatory.
But, we can learn –
with the help of the Holy Spirit and frequent confession –
to silence our tongues a little more;
to avoid certain sections of the Internet
and to refuse certain pleasures;
to trust that our business will be OK
even without cheating and cutting corners.
We can learn to tame our anger and cool our passions.
And, we can learn to forgive.
But none of these things will ever happen
if we cannot humble ourselves and go to confession.
And, while I’m on the subject, I want to make an announcement:
starting this week, I’ll be here an hour earlier on Thursdays,
hearing confessions from 6 pm, before Stations.
In the first reading, when God’s People would come into the temple,
to offer the first-fruits of their harvest,
they were bowing down and acknowledging:
they didn’t do it themselves, they needed God.
My soul is my battlefield; your soul is yours.
Can you become who you want to be without God? I cannot.
That’s why we go to confession.
The connection is obvious. Our Lord,
who became man to be in solidarity with us –
to fight not just for us, but side-by-side with us – leads us into battle.
And the three temptations from the devil sum up all that tempts us.
Like Jesus, we are tempted by the flesh, by worldly greed,
and by the arrogance of power.
One way to understand the temptations
the devil presents to Jesus is this.
The devil appeals to that part of us that says,
take the shortcut; go ahead and cheat to get ahead;
win through power.
The devil tells Jesus: you can have all the kingdoms of the world –
meaning, all the souls they contain –
and you only need to do one, little thing: just worship me.
This is how a lot of temptation works out for us. Take the shortcut.
We have candidates for public office saying, sure, let’s use torture.
Others say, sure, we take unborn children, at the early stage of life,
and destroy them for “research,” but they justify it,
because it’ll go for a good cause.
The state of California recently legalized killing sick people –
so called “assisted suicide.” After all, it’ll save money.
A lot of this is also about the arrogance of power.
We are unwilling to let God be God. We want to be God.
The whole movement today, not only for redefining marriage;
it’s moved now to redefining what male and female mean.
The bottom line is arrogance of power.
Who cares what God has designed? We are god.
We make our own design.
And so you have scientists who want to manipulate human life
at the genetic level, and “edit” the genetic structure of life.
They want to create babies on order;
and they want to mix human and non-human genes together.
But let’s come back to where you and I are.
The main battlefield most of us will face
is not 1,000 miles away, not 100, not even one mile away.
It’s inside us: our own heart.
It’s in the choices we make
from when the alarm clock buzzes in the morning
until we return to bed each night.
It’s in what we do at work each day,
and on the Internet each afternoon and evening.
In the words we share with our families –
and in the refusal to share ourselves with one another.
Our hearts are the battlefield.
And this Lent is our time to enter into desert silence,
so that we’re alone with ourselves.
Who among us can say, I don’t need this?
I have no temptations; I have no weaknesses to overcome?
The one man who really could say that was Jesus Christ.
And he went into the desert.
He went there to say, you’re kidding yourself
if you think you can win these battles
without prayer, without cost, without Me!
There are lots of tools that help us.
We know three of them: fasting and self denial. Prayer.
Giving generously to others, especially the poor.
Under the rubric of prayer, let me highlight
the most powerful weapon of all. The sacrament of confession.
I go to confession about every 2-3 weeks; although, at present,
I’m overdue. So I promise, I’m going to go this week if I possibly can.
What do I confess? Like a lot of people,
I tend to confess the same sins again and again.
That said, I can tell you:
there are some sins I don’t confess very often anymore.
Over the years, with help from God prompting my conscience,
and the priest giving counsel,
and my own desire to make something happen,
and going back to confession again, and again, and again,
I have beaten down some of my sins.
I don’t know that anyone is ever cured, this side of Purgatory.
But, we can learn –
with the help of the Holy Spirit and frequent confession –
to silence our tongues a little more;
to avoid certain sections of the Internet
and to refuse certain pleasures;
to trust that our business will be OK
even without cheating and cutting corners.
We can learn to tame our anger and cool our passions.
And, we can learn to forgive.
But none of these things will ever happen
if we cannot humble ourselves and go to confession.
And, while I’m on the subject, I want to make an announcement:
starting this week, I’ll be here an hour earlier on Thursdays,
hearing confessions from 6 pm, before Stations.
In the first reading, when God’s People would come into the temple,
to offer the first-fruits of their harvest,
they were bowing down and acknowledging:
they didn’t do it themselves, they needed God.
My soul is my battlefield; your soul is yours.
Can you become who you want to be without God? I cannot.
That’s why we go to confession.
Tuesday, February 09, 2016
God doesn't think about your sin the way you think he does (Sunday homily)
Here are notes from Sunday. The last week or so I've been under the weather to some degree, and really didn't have much energy. I'm feeling better.
The first reading and the Gospel have a lot of similarities. God reveals himself in both; and both times, the human being reacts by becoming deeply aware of his sinfulness.That’s often what happens when we draw close to God. We instinctively recognize sin as something that separates us from God, which it does.
But notice how God reacts – that is, how he does NOT react. God does not recoil from Isaiah in horror. Jesus does not turn away from Peter.
Think about that.
How many times when we fall into sin, one of the things we may come to believe is that God is against us, God is offended, God is angry, God is going to punish us. The truth is, when we face the reality of sin, we’re projecting onto God our own horror and disgust. We’re right to be disgusted by sin. Would that we all had a true horror of sin, as Saint Louis urged his son.
Sin is indeed horrible, but God does not think you and I are horrible.
The next time you are in a situation wondering whether God can forgive you, remember what Jesus said to Peter: “Do not be afraid!” Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid!
As we go into Lent – Ash Wednesday is this week – what great things might God do in our lives if we can these two things:
a) Not let our sins discourage us;
b) And not be afraid of where God might lead us?
The first reading and the Gospel have a lot of similarities. God reveals himself in both; and both times, the human being reacts by becoming deeply aware of his sinfulness.That’s often what happens when we draw close to God. We instinctively recognize sin as something that separates us from God, which it does.
But notice how God reacts – that is, how he does NOT react. God does not recoil from Isaiah in horror. Jesus does not turn away from Peter.
Think about that.
How many times when we fall into sin, one of the things we may come to believe is that God is against us, God is offended, God is angry, God is going to punish us. The truth is, when we face the reality of sin, we’re projecting onto God our own horror and disgust. We’re right to be disgusted by sin. Would that we all had a true horror of sin, as Saint Louis urged his son.
Sin is indeed horrible, but God does not think you and I are horrible.
The next time you are in a situation wondering whether God can forgive you, remember what Jesus said to Peter: “Do not be afraid!” Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid!
As we go into Lent – Ash Wednesday is this week – what great things might God do in our lives if we can these two things:
a) Not let our sins discourage us;
b) And not be afraid of where God might lead us?
Tuesday, February 02, 2016
Always say what needs to be said, and always with love (Sunday homily)
Lent is about 2 weeks away.
Are you thinking about what you will do with this Lent?
Now, after listening to the readings, one theme is clear enough:
when we live our faith and proclaim our faith,
we won’t always get a good response.
As obvious as that is, it’s striking to me
how often people will fall for the counter-argument:
that you can measure what’s true and good by what’s popular.
I can give you a few examples.
One is the debate that occurred a year or so ago in Indiana,
over a law to protect religious freedom.
A lot of the big corporations came out against it.
Their position was that if there came a conflict
between, say, a same-sex wedding, and a baker or a florist
whose religious beliefs meant they couldn’t participate in that,
the chamber of commerce thought conscience should lose.
And why?
Because other organizations has threatened to boycott Indiana,
and so it all came down to dollars.
Another example, which could be told many times over:
a priest comes into a parish, he shakes things up,
he gives tough homilies, he tightens up some things;
and before long, someone writes a letter to the bishop.
And in the second or third paragraph,
that letter will say something like,
“X number of people who used to come to this parish
don’t come here anymore.”
I don’t know if anyone has ever done it,
but it could be a really funny bit
if some comedian did a sketch telling today’s Gospel story
as if it were a CNN broadcast.
Wolf Blitzer would come on and say,
“well, this once-promising rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth,
seems to be off to a rocky start,
given the reaction of his own relatives and neighbors.”
And then they’d interview someone from the synagogue,
who’d say, “This smart-alecky kid thinks he’s the Messiah?
Well, this is no way to start a movement, by insulting everyone!
He really needs to be more positive and uplifting!”
I started out by asking about Lent.
Maybe one of the things we will do with our Lent
is to ask God to help us purify ourselves
of caring whether we’re “winning” or not.
To stop caring what others think about us.
Not that this is permission for any of us to be jerks about it.
The words we heard from Saint Paul are so beautiful
we might miss the practical application.
Notice what Paul said:
no matter what great things I might be able to do for God,
if there is not love, they are—I am—nothing.
Which means, if we have a difficult message to deliver,
if we have a tough decision to make, are we sure it’s grounded in love?
Jeremiah’s tough message was always about love:
his nation was on the road to destruction,
and he was working night and day to turn them back.
I recently saw something Penn Jillette said.
He’s the magician from the team, Penn and Teller,
and you’ve probably seen them do their act.
You may not know that Mr. Jillette is an atheist.
And in the video, Mr. Jillette told the story of a man
who came up to him, after his show,
and gave him a copy of the New Testament.
And Mr. Jillette was impressed. Here’s what he said:
“I’ve always said that I don’t respect people who don’t proselytize.
I don’t respect that at all.
If you believe that there’s a heaven and a hell,
and people could be going to hell or not getting eternal life,
and you think that it’s not really worth telling them this
because it would make it socially awkward…
how much do you have to hate somebody to not proselytize?
How much do you have to hate somebody
to believe everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?”
But let’s keep St. Paul’s words in the picture.
If we do have a tough message to deliver,
what effort have we made to purify our motives,
to be sure that love is our motive?
Here’s a practical suggestion:
if you expect you will have to say something hard to say:
whether it’s coworkers, brothers and sisters, children or spouse;
make sure you are praying for that person,
in addition to whatever things you say to that person.
More than that, just to remove all doubt,
why not go ahead and tell that person, straight out:
I’m saying this because I love you?
Awkward? Probably. But if we can’t manage
to communicate God’s love to people,
then don’t even claim you’re speaking God’s message.
And if you’re not sure just how to explain
some of the things we believe, in terms of God’s love,
then we have more work to do ourselves
to understand what God teaches and asks of us.
For example, perhaps we're not sure how to explain why marriage is a man and a woman,
not two men or two women.
And the answer is, because God designed humanity in a particular way--
the union of man and woman, in marriage, open to life, completes the divine image.
And any alternative is a counterfeit,
and while they may give us some measure of earthly happiness,
they actually distort us, and if we persist in them,
we will be unable to enjoy happiness with God forever.*
Which gives me the opportunity to remind you
that in a couple of weeks, we’ll have “Symbolon, Part II,”
and this is a chance to explore and understand our faith better.
You’ll see the cards in the pews.
The white card shows you the topics;
the ivory card is what you use to sign up.
Look at the topics. Why do we need to be baptized?
Why do we need to go to Mass? And confession?
Why is marriage so important,
and why did God design it the way he did?
You can see that some of the subjects
we have the most trouble talking about, are in this series.
Remember, this is all free, all available online.
The white card tells you how to find the materials online.
This weekend and next, you are invited to fill out the ivory card.
The office staff will link you up with discussion groups.
To return to my opening question. Lent is coming.
What will you do with it?
* This paragraph was improvised several different ways.
Are you thinking about what you will do with this Lent?
Now, after listening to the readings, one theme is clear enough:
when we live our faith and proclaim our faith,
we won’t always get a good response.
As obvious as that is, it’s striking to me
how often people will fall for the counter-argument:
that you can measure what’s true and good by what’s popular.
I can give you a few examples.
One is the debate that occurred a year or so ago in Indiana,
over a law to protect religious freedom.
A lot of the big corporations came out against it.
Their position was that if there came a conflict
between, say, a same-sex wedding, and a baker or a florist
whose religious beliefs meant they couldn’t participate in that,
the chamber of commerce thought conscience should lose.
And why?
Because other organizations has threatened to boycott Indiana,
and so it all came down to dollars.
Another example, which could be told many times over:
a priest comes into a parish, he shakes things up,
he gives tough homilies, he tightens up some things;
and before long, someone writes a letter to the bishop.
And in the second or third paragraph,
that letter will say something like,
“X number of people who used to come to this parish
don’t come here anymore.”
I don’t know if anyone has ever done it,
but it could be a really funny bit
if some comedian did a sketch telling today’s Gospel story
as if it were a CNN broadcast.
Wolf Blitzer would come on and say,
“well, this once-promising rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth,
seems to be off to a rocky start,
given the reaction of his own relatives and neighbors.”
And then they’d interview someone from the synagogue,
who’d say, “This smart-alecky kid thinks he’s the Messiah?
Well, this is no way to start a movement, by insulting everyone!
He really needs to be more positive and uplifting!”
I started out by asking about Lent.
Maybe one of the things we will do with our Lent
is to ask God to help us purify ourselves
of caring whether we’re “winning” or not.
To stop caring what others think about us.
Not that this is permission for any of us to be jerks about it.
The words we heard from Saint Paul are so beautiful
we might miss the practical application.
Notice what Paul said:
no matter what great things I might be able to do for God,
if there is not love, they are—I am—nothing.
Which means, if we have a difficult message to deliver,
if we have a tough decision to make, are we sure it’s grounded in love?
Jeremiah’s tough message was always about love:
his nation was on the road to destruction,
and he was working night and day to turn them back.
I recently saw something Penn Jillette said.
He’s the magician from the team, Penn and Teller,
and you’ve probably seen them do their act.
You may not know that Mr. Jillette is an atheist.
And in the video, Mr. Jillette told the story of a man
who came up to him, after his show,
and gave him a copy of the New Testament.
And Mr. Jillette was impressed. Here’s what he said:
“I’ve always said that I don’t respect people who don’t proselytize.
I don’t respect that at all.
If you believe that there’s a heaven and a hell,
and people could be going to hell or not getting eternal life,
and you think that it’s not really worth telling them this
because it would make it socially awkward…
how much do you have to hate somebody to not proselytize?
How much do you have to hate somebody
to believe everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?”
But let’s keep St. Paul’s words in the picture.
If we do have a tough message to deliver,
what effort have we made to purify our motives,
to be sure that love is our motive?
Here’s a practical suggestion:
if you expect you will have to say something hard to say:
whether it’s coworkers, brothers and sisters, children or spouse;
make sure you are praying for that person,
in addition to whatever things you say to that person.
More than that, just to remove all doubt,
why not go ahead and tell that person, straight out:
I’m saying this because I love you?
Awkward? Probably. But if we can’t manage
to communicate God’s love to people,
then don’t even claim you’re speaking God’s message.
And if you’re not sure just how to explain
some of the things we believe, in terms of God’s love,
then we have more work to do ourselves
to understand what God teaches and asks of us.
For example, perhaps we're not sure how to explain why marriage is a man and a woman,
not two men or two women.
And the answer is, because God designed humanity in a particular way--
the union of man and woman, in marriage, open to life, completes the divine image.
And any alternative is a counterfeit,
and while they may give us some measure of earthly happiness,
they actually distort us, and if we persist in them,
we will be unable to enjoy happiness with God forever.*
Which gives me the opportunity to remind you
that in a couple of weeks, we’ll have “Symbolon, Part II,”
and this is a chance to explore and understand our faith better.
You’ll see the cards in the pews.
The white card shows you the topics;
the ivory card is what you use to sign up.
Look at the topics. Why do we need to be baptized?
Why do we need to go to Mass? And confession?
Why is marriage so important,
and why did God design it the way he did?
You can see that some of the subjects
we have the most trouble talking about, are in this series.
Remember, this is all free, all available online.
The white card tells you how to find the materials online.
This weekend and next, you are invited to fill out the ivory card.
The office staff will link you up with discussion groups.
To return to my opening question. Lent is coming.
What will you do with it?
* This paragraph was improvised several different ways.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
The three (faithless) ways people respond to Christ -- how will you respond? (Sunday homily)
In the first reading, we hear how Ezra was reading the Covenant –
which was given at Mount Sinai to Moses and to God’s People.
And they fell to their faces, did you notice?
We might wonder? Why did they respond the way they did?
Then, in the Gospel, Jesus himself is reading from the Scriptures.
This time, from Isaiah, from a passage describing the Messiah
who will set free those imprisoned by sin and guilt.
And Jesus tells them: this passage is fulfilled in your hearing—
it is fulfilled…in Me!
While this reading ends without telling us how people responded,
that’s what interested me, about both these readings:
how people reacted, and why.
In fact, next Sunday’s Gospel will give us the people’s response.
There were three ways they responded.
Some said, in effect, oh, isn’t he nice?
Others said, he’s Joseph and Mary’s boy,
there’s nothing special about him.
And still others reacted by seeking to throw him off a cliff.
And of all those reactions, the one that makes the most sense?
Those who tried to throw him off the cliff!
To this day, these are still the responses people give to Jesus.
Lots of people today will say, oh, isn’t he nice?
But I’m not sure that if people spent a day with Jesus,
they would say that.
Yes, he was nice when he healed people –
but when he called the Pharisees a brood of vipers,
and he turned over the tables? That was not so nice.
And there are lots of people who, likewise,
claim that Jesus has nothing special to say.
We all know the sort: gruff people, who think everything’s a con,
it’s all bosh, and they aren’t going to be taken in!
But I can’t help thinking of something
the great English writer, C.S. Lewis, said:
the person who sees through everything, in fact sees nothing at all.
So those folks who went to throw him off the cliff?
That response made sense.
Because if you don’t believe he’s the Messiah,
then you realize, this fellow is trouble. Big trouble.
And someone who makes such big claims, but is false,
is also anything but a good man. In fact, he’s a very bad man.
But no matter what, you can’t just pass on by, nodding amiably.
Whatever or whoever Jesus is, he’s not the same old thing.
He’s Jehovah God, the One who separated the light from darkness,
who breathed life into dirt to create Adam,
the God of Abraham, Moses and Elijah,
the God of fire and judgment,
the one who divided the Red Sea and gave manna from heaven –
and he’s come down to earth,
and he’s standing right in front of you.
“Oh how nice!” is not a proper response!
One response we might have to Jesus is to want to know him better.
The people in the first reading were filled with sorrow
because they heard the words of the Covenant
God made with his people at Sinai,
and they realized they’d lost so much.
Ezra and Nehemiah were telling them, don’t despair, rise up,
and reclaim what is yours.
Many Catholics today are discouraged
because they don’t know their Faith as well as they might.
I’m here to say, one more time, rise up, claim what is yours.
We e have opportunities to learn our Faith –
let’s seize those opportunities.
In the weeks leading up to Christmas,
we had a lot of folks take advantage of the Symbolon program,
available online, and also the discussion groups.
It all seemed to work: it was free, it was accessible,
and a lot of people seemed to enjoy getting together with others
to share their faith.
So—we’re doing it again. Believe it or not,
Lent starts in about three weeks.
So we’re gearing up Symbolon, Part 2.
It’ll work the same way, but the materials we will look at
are about the Seven Sacraments.
Now, to be clear, if you didn’t join in part 1, don’t let that stop you.
Just jump in. If you don’t know how to sign up,
see the cover of the bulletin today, or look for a mailing.
It’s easy and it’s free.
Also, while we’ll focus on the next part of the Symbolon program, remember the website, Formed.org, has lots of options.
It’s all free, and it’s all for you.
Another way we might respond to Jesus
is to help him bring good news to the poor, and to set captives free.
This time of year, we talk about the Catholic Ministry Appeal,
which is the Archdiocese’s annual fund drive
to support six important missions of the local Church.
They are: our seminary and the vocations programs;
Catholic Charities and social services; campus,
hospital and prison ministries;
the fund for retired Archdiocesan priests;
St. Rita School for the Deaf;
and the Archdiocese’s programs for sharing the Catholic Faith.
There are envelopes in the pews,
and many of us will get mailings as well.
Our parish has always responded generously.
In fact, when we exceed the goal set,
the parish actually gets a bit of money back,
and that helps with our religious education programs.
These are all worthy causes.
Personally, I write my check each year for the seminary.
I give $500, which is a lot of money, but I don’t have any children,
so I can afford it. You do what you can afford.
Some can afford a lot more; others nothing close to that.
Do what you can.
Giving to help share Christ with others
is a very good response to Jesus coming close.
Like the people in the Scriptures, you and I have heard God’s Word.
In a few minutes, I’ll go to the altar, and once again,
Through me, Jesus will offer the Sacrifice
that makes him, the Messiah, the Deliverer,
present right here, on this altar.
All this is fulfilled in your hearing, and before our eyes.
How will we respond?
which was given at Mount Sinai to Moses and to God’s People.
And they fell to their faces, did you notice?
We might wonder? Why did they respond the way they did?
Then, in the Gospel, Jesus himself is reading from the Scriptures.
This time, from Isaiah, from a passage describing the Messiah
who will set free those imprisoned by sin and guilt.
And Jesus tells them: this passage is fulfilled in your hearing—
it is fulfilled…in Me!
While this reading ends without telling us how people responded,
that’s what interested me, about both these readings:
how people reacted, and why.
In fact, next Sunday’s Gospel will give us the people’s response.
There were three ways they responded.
Some said, in effect, oh, isn’t he nice?
Others said, he’s Joseph and Mary’s boy,
there’s nothing special about him.
And still others reacted by seeking to throw him off a cliff.
And of all those reactions, the one that makes the most sense?
Those who tried to throw him off the cliff!
To this day, these are still the responses people give to Jesus.
Lots of people today will say, oh, isn’t he nice?
But I’m not sure that if people spent a day with Jesus,
they would say that.
Yes, he was nice when he healed people –
but when he called the Pharisees a brood of vipers,
and he turned over the tables? That was not so nice.
And there are lots of people who, likewise,
claim that Jesus has nothing special to say.
We all know the sort: gruff people, who think everything’s a con,
it’s all bosh, and they aren’t going to be taken in!
But I can’t help thinking of something
the great English writer, C.S. Lewis, said:
the person who sees through everything, in fact sees nothing at all.
So those folks who went to throw him off the cliff?
That response made sense.
Because if you don’t believe he’s the Messiah,
then you realize, this fellow is trouble. Big trouble.
And someone who makes such big claims, but is false,
is also anything but a good man. In fact, he’s a very bad man.
But no matter what, you can’t just pass on by, nodding amiably.
Whatever or whoever Jesus is, he’s not the same old thing.
He’s Jehovah God, the One who separated the light from darkness,
who breathed life into dirt to create Adam,
the God of Abraham, Moses and Elijah,
the God of fire and judgment,
the one who divided the Red Sea and gave manna from heaven –
and he’s come down to earth,
and he’s standing right in front of you.
“Oh how nice!” is not a proper response!
One response we might have to Jesus is to want to know him better.
The people in the first reading were filled with sorrow
because they heard the words of the Covenant
God made with his people at Sinai,
and they realized they’d lost so much.
Ezra and Nehemiah were telling them, don’t despair, rise up,
and reclaim what is yours.
Many Catholics today are discouraged
because they don’t know their Faith as well as they might.
I’m here to say, one more time, rise up, claim what is yours.
We e have opportunities to learn our Faith –
let’s seize those opportunities.
In the weeks leading up to Christmas,
we had a lot of folks take advantage of the Symbolon program,
available online, and also the discussion groups.
It all seemed to work: it was free, it was accessible,
and a lot of people seemed to enjoy getting together with others
to share their faith.
So—we’re doing it again. Believe it or not,
Lent starts in about three weeks.
So we’re gearing up Symbolon, Part 2.
It’ll work the same way, but the materials we will look at
are about the Seven Sacraments.
Now, to be clear, if you didn’t join in part 1, don’t let that stop you.
Just jump in. If you don’t know how to sign up,
see the cover of the bulletin today, or look for a mailing.
It’s easy and it’s free.
Also, while we’ll focus on the next part of the Symbolon program, remember the website, Formed.org, has lots of options.
It’s all free, and it’s all for you.
Another way we might respond to Jesus
is to help him bring good news to the poor, and to set captives free.
This time of year, we talk about the Catholic Ministry Appeal,
which is the Archdiocese’s annual fund drive
to support six important missions of the local Church.
They are: our seminary and the vocations programs;
Catholic Charities and social services; campus,
hospital and prison ministries;
the fund for retired Archdiocesan priests;
St. Rita School for the Deaf;
and the Archdiocese’s programs for sharing the Catholic Faith.
There are envelopes in the pews,
and many of us will get mailings as well.
Our parish has always responded generously.
In fact, when we exceed the goal set,
the parish actually gets a bit of money back,
and that helps with our religious education programs.
These are all worthy causes.
Personally, I write my check each year for the seminary.
I give $500, which is a lot of money, but I don’t have any children,
so I can afford it. You do what you can afford.
Some can afford a lot more; others nothing close to that.
Do what you can.
Giving to help share Christ with others
is a very good response to Jesus coming close.
Like the people in the Scriptures, you and I have heard God’s Word.
In a few minutes, I’ll go to the altar, and once again,
Through me, Jesus will offer the Sacrifice
that makes him, the Messiah, the Deliverer,
present right here, on this altar.
All this is fulfilled in your hearing, and before our eyes.
How will we respond?
Friday, January 15, 2016
Sunny in Puerto Rico
I'm in Puerto Rico for a few days on vacation. Why Puerto Rico?
Why not? It's part of the U.S., but assuredly warm; it's not too far; and I've never been here -- I like some adventure. But the clincher was, I got a bargain.
Impressions so far?
Well, American Airlines' customer service could have been more helpful -- and I could have been more assertive. My flight from Columbus was delayed for weather, leaving me only a few minutes to get to the next flight. One of those carts would have made the difference. I didn't ask; but then, I didn't know how far I had to go. Next time, I'll ask.
My car rental was all goofed up. When I booked, I didn't realize it wasn't at the airport. The guy at the airport explained. Ok, so can you rent me a car? Yes, but the taxes make it more. How much? He took awhile to discover it would add $500 -- tripling the bill! Dubious, but between a language barrier and my weariness, I was in no position to argue. The place where I'd gotten the reservation was closed -- thanks American! -- so it would have to wait till the next day. So I caught a taxi to my hotel.
That was the slowest taxi ride I've ever had, by the way. The driver was with her husband, I think, and rather nervous.
So, the next day, I see there's a rental place nearby. I call. No cars. I couldn't find a number for the office that had my reservation, so I couldn't do much with that. The car finally came through yesterday.
Oh, and I found out why this place was a bargain. In the daylight, I discovered, across from the hotel, a country club that's out of business. The apparent plan was to have a golf club, with houses surrounding, and a couple of hotels. Well, it's all here, except the golf course has gone to seed.; the birds have taken over. I'm sure the homeowners, who banked on a golf course, are delighted. No doubt the hotels did too. They are both fine, but the one I'm in shows a little wear. Meaning, not enough money for upkeep.
All that sounds too negative! And I didn't even mention my cold, which is about gone. I might have also mentioned the swaying palm trees, the lovely people -- people are nice to you, despite language, if you are polite, and at least try. I might also mention the curious night sounds, birds and frogs, that have made the abandoned golf course their home. The food has been good. The main thing is, rest, prayer, and relaxation. It is sunny, warm, and I am just finishing my coffee.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
What baptism means -- Jesus' and ours (Sunday homily)
I’d like to tackle a couple of questions with you.
The first is relatively straightforward:
why was Jesus himself baptized?
Recall that John was baptizing people
as an expression of sorrow for sins.
So when you came and lined up along the banks of the Jordan River,
it was like lining up for confession.
You were there to tell God you were sorry for your sins.
So why was Jesus there?
The answer is, Jesus was there for the same reason Jesus is here –
for the same reason God became human.
The whole point of the Incarnation, that is, of God becoming human,
is that God was coming to be with us, to stand with us.
So it was entirely appropriate
that Jesus was standing with the sinners on the riverbank.
That’s why Jesus came. He comes to be with us.
Have you ever thought about that moment?
If there were a lot of people waiting for John to baptize them,
that suggests Jesus was standing there for awhile.
Sure, he could have gone to the front; but what if he didn’t?
Can you imagine standing next to him all that time?
What went on during that wait?
Maybe everyone was praying silently,
the way folks do while waiting outside the confessional.
But maybe they were talking.
Imagine standing in the confessional line,
and Jesus is standing behind you.
What would you talk about?
That’s what the Incarnation—God becoming human—is about.
God chooses to take part in all that he asks of us.
Each of us is baptized, beginning our life in Jesus,
beginning our life in the Holy Spirit.
Jesus didn’t need baptism –
he enjoyed the fullness of the Blessed Trinity –
but where we go, he goes.
And so, you may recall from other Scripture accounts of this event,
that John was startled. In Matthew’s Gospel,
John says, “I need to be baptized by you—yet you come to me?”
This event also serves to show how
Jesus is both the heir to the kingdom of David –
that is, he’s the Messiah – as well as showing he is the Son of God.
In the first book of Kings, when Solomon was anointed king,
first he went down into the river, and received a ritual bath.
That is, he was baptized.
And then, coming out of the water, he was anointed.
This ritual was overseen by the chief priest, and the prophet.
What we see here is a new and better Solomon –
the true King, entering into his kingdom.
And there is an anointing: but this comes from heaven:
the Holy Spirit, in the form of a dove. Why a dove?
Why not flames of fire, as on Pentecost?
Why not thunder and lightning, as at Mount Sinai?
Well, I don’t know for sure, but here’s a thought.
A bolt of lightning tends to send people scurrying for cover.
God’s purpose here wasn’t to intimidate. Is a dove frightening?
In the story of Noah, a dove is the sign of life and of hope.
The second question I want to tackle is, what does all this mean for us?
When the Father speaks from heaven, he says:
“You are my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.”
Of course that means Jesus. But don’t stop there. It also means us.
Get that? That’s the whole point of the Incarnation.
God came to be with us, so we could be with God.
Or as so many saints put it,
“God became man so that men might become God.”
Which is to say, to become partakers in divinity, to share God’s life.
So what happens when Jesus is baptized
shows us the meaning of our own baptism.
When we are baptized, we receive the Holy Spirit.
After the baptism, as the priest anoints the person with chrism,
He prays these words:
“As Christ was anointed priest, prophet and king,
so may you live always as a member of his body,
sharing everlasting life.”
Jesus’ baptism isn’t the end, but the beginning.
From here he goes into the desert to do battle with Satan.
After that, he goes to Galilee;
he performs his first miracle at the wedding in Cana.
We’ll hear that Gospel next Sunday.
From that point on, Jesus is on the move,
constantly seeking out the lost sheep of Israel.
He is also on the move, heading toward the Cross and the Resurrection.
This baptism is the launch, as it were, of his Messianic ministry.
Pope Francis often speaks of the need for the Church to be missionary;
to go out to the “peripheries,” as he says –
meaning, to those on the margins, to those most in need,
to the lost sheep.
And you’ve heard me talk about the task of sharing our faith.
This is why we’re anointed with the Holy Spirit.
It’s what we’ve been prepared, spiritually, to do.
You may think you can’t do it; that you aren’t equipped.
But God says otherwise.
The first is relatively straightforward:
why was Jesus himself baptized?
Recall that John was baptizing people
as an expression of sorrow for sins.
So when you came and lined up along the banks of the Jordan River,
it was like lining up for confession.
You were there to tell God you were sorry for your sins.
So why was Jesus there?
The answer is, Jesus was there for the same reason Jesus is here –
for the same reason God became human.
The whole point of the Incarnation, that is, of God becoming human,
is that God was coming to be with us, to stand with us.
So it was entirely appropriate
that Jesus was standing with the sinners on the riverbank.
That’s why Jesus came. He comes to be with us.
Have you ever thought about that moment?
If there were a lot of people waiting for John to baptize them,
that suggests Jesus was standing there for awhile.
Sure, he could have gone to the front; but what if he didn’t?
Can you imagine standing next to him all that time?
What went on during that wait?
Maybe everyone was praying silently,
the way folks do while waiting outside the confessional.
But maybe they were talking.
Imagine standing in the confessional line,
and Jesus is standing behind you.
What would you talk about?
That’s what the Incarnation—God becoming human—is about.
God chooses to take part in all that he asks of us.
Each of us is baptized, beginning our life in Jesus,
beginning our life in the Holy Spirit.
Jesus didn’t need baptism –
he enjoyed the fullness of the Blessed Trinity –
but where we go, he goes.
And so, you may recall from other Scripture accounts of this event,
that John was startled. In Matthew’s Gospel,
John says, “I need to be baptized by you—yet you come to me?”
This event also serves to show how
Jesus is both the heir to the kingdom of David –
that is, he’s the Messiah – as well as showing he is the Son of God.
In the first book of Kings, when Solomon was anointed king,
first he went down into the river, and received a ritual bath.
That is, he was baptized.
And then, coming out of the water, he was anointed.
This ritual was overseen by the chief priest, and the prophet.
What we see here is a new and better Solomon –
the true King, entering into his kingdom.
And there is an anointing: but this comes from heaven:
the Holy Spirit, in the form of a dove. Why a dove?
Why not flames of fire, as on Pentecost?
Why not thunder and lightning, as at Mount Sinai?
Well, I don’t know for sure, but here’s a thought.
A bolt of lightning tends to send people scurrying for cover.
God’s purpose here wasn’t to intimidate. Is a dove frightening?
In the story of Noah, a dove is the sign of life and of hope.
The second question I want to tackle is, what does all this mean for us?
When the Father speaks from heaven, he says:
“You are my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.”
Of course that means Jesus. But don’t stop there. It also means us.
Get that? That’s the whole point of the Incarnation.
God came to be with us, so we could be with God.
Or as so many saints put it,
“God became man so that men might become God.”
Which is to say, to become partakers in divinity, to share God’s life.
So what happens when Jesus is baptized
shows us the meaning of our own baptism.
When we are baptized, we receive the Holy Spirit.
After the baptism, as the priest anoints the person with chrism,
He prays these words:
“As Christ was anointed priest, prophet and king,
so may you live always as a member of his body,
sharing everlasting life.”
Jesus’ baptism isn’t the end, but the beginning.
From here he goes into the desert to do battle with Satan.
After that, he goes to Galilee;
he performs his first miracle at the wedding in Cana.
We’ll hear that Gospel next Sunday.
From that point on, Jesus is on the move,
constantly seeking out the lost sheep of Israel.
He is also on the move, heading toward the Cross and the Resurrection.
This baptism is the launch, as it were, of his Messianic ministry.
Pope Francis often speaks of the need for the Church to be missionary;
to go out to the “peripheries,” as he says –
meaning, to those on the margins, to those most in need,
to the lost sheep.
And you’ve heard me talk about the task of sharing our faith.
This is why we’re anointed with the Holy Spirit.
It’s what we’ve been prepared, spiritually, to do.
You may think you can’t do it; that you aren’t equipped.
But God says otherwise.
Friday, January 08, 2016
A day in the life...
Here's my day (so far)...
First stop, after the bathroom, was the church sacristy. I turned on the lights and put on my vestments for Holy Mass. As I am in the habit of preparing my chalice the day before, I only needed to double-check it. Then I sat down to pray the Divine Office. As the faithful are usually praying the Rosary about this time, I pray in the sacristy, contemplating the crucifix and the relics that are kept there.
The seminarians, home for Christmas break, come in; they vest to serve Mass, and take care of the candles and so forth. The volunteer whose turn it is to take Holy Communion to the sick checks in just before Mass.
After Mass, the servers take care of business. I greet a few folks after Mass, then I get the altar set up for the Traditional Latin Mass (low) later on. I like having things set, just in case I get called away.
Back to the house. I fix some coffee and some eggs. I bring my breakfast to my desk, where I check emails and do some online reading while I eat. My assistant stops in with some questions.
I have a column to write for the bulletin; also, I need to look at the readings for Sunday and get started on a homily. And I need to get some things in place for while I'm out of town the next two weeks. That, plus some things from my assistant, keeps me busy most of the day. (One of the things my assistant and I talk about is having another educational opportunity for the parish during Lent, to follow up what we did in Advent, which seemed to go well and was well received. But she also reminds me about the upcoming Catholic Ministry Appeal, so we have to think about how all that works out. We solve some conflicts -- that's always good.)
In the midst of all this, I make some calls and take some calls. I print out some documents. I send a copy of my column to the person who will set it up in the bulletin. Writing the various things involved some research along the way, which took me to the Internet. Somewhere in there, I got some lunch, but I can't recall what it was. Maybe I didn't have lunch? I did have a cup of hot chocolate around 1:30 pm...
That's when a couple came in, preparing for marriage. We met for 90 minutes -- actually, a little longer. I talk too much. They pretended to find it helpful!
I had another meeting at 3:30; in between, my assistant had some checks for me to sign. That takes time, especially when I review the invoices, which is what I really should do. This time, I was a little hasty. Sometimes people say priests shouldn't worry about such things. But I'm a father, right? My father always handled the bills. He didn't "shop it out" to anyone, unless it was my mom. That's what the head of the household does.
My second appointment just left; afterward, I saw a few more checks needing signatures. I just finished that. Now I have some time before the Traditional Latin Mass tonight at 7 pm.
FYI -- before Mass, I not only prayed Morning Prayer (Lauds), I also prayed Daytime Prayer (Terce), because (a) it's allowed and (b), I know how a parish priest's day goes. I'll pray Vespers (Evening Prayer) before Mass tonight; and if possible, Matins (Office of Readings) for tomorrow.
I still have my Sunday homily. I didn't neglect it; part of my decisions today had to do with whether I did a homily on the Catholic Ministry Appeal -- since I won't be able to do it on the 17th when I'm away -- or else, do it January 24. I opted for the latter. Sometimes homilies don't come together until the last minute. Tomorrow, in addition to a morning Mass, and the evening Mass, and two-plus hours of confession, I have two appointments. With God's help, I'll come up with some sort of homily before the evening Mass.
Even though I didn't eat lunch, I probably won't have dinner until after Mass tonight. Because we'll have exposition and devotions to the Sacred Heart, that means around 8:30 pm or so. I don't really like to eat, and then go to have Mass or a meeting.
This is a pretty typical day, although not so typical for a Friday, because I don't usually have meetings on Tuesday.
Oh, and I still have some phone calls to make. Maybe I'll do that next...
First stop, after the bathroom, was the church sacristy. I turned on the lights and put on my vestments for Holy Mass. As I am in the habit of preparing my chalice the day before, I only needed to double-check it. Then I sat down to pray the Divine Office. As the faithful are usually praying the Rosary about this time, I pray in the sacristy, contemplating the crucifix and the relics that are kept there.
The seminarians, home for Christmas break, come in; they vest to serve Mass, and take care of the candles and so forth. The volunteer whose turn it is to take Holy Communion to the sick checks in just before Mass.
After Mass, the servers take care of business. I greet a few folks after Mass, then I get the altar set up for the Traditional Latin Mass (low) later on. I like having things set, just in case I get called away.
Back to the house. I fix some coffee and some eggs. I bring my breakfast to my desk, where I check emails and do some online reading while I eat. My assistant stops in with some questions.
I have a column to write for the bulletin; also, I need to look at the readings for Sunday and get started on a homily. And I need to get some things in place for while I'm out of town the next two weeks. That, plus some things from my assistant, keeps me busy most of the day. (One of the things my assistant and I talk about is having another educational opportunity for the parish during Lent, to follow up what we did in Advent, which seemed to go well and was well received. But she also reminds me about the upcoming Catholic Ministry Appeal, so we have to think about how all that works out. We solve some conflicts -- that's always good.)
In the midst of all this, I make some calls and take some calls. I print out some documents. I send a copy of my column to the person who will set it up in the bulletin. Writing the various things involved some research along the way, which took me to the Internet. Somewhere in there, I got some lunch, but I can't recall what it was. Maybe I didn't have lunch? I did have a cup of hot chocolate around 1:30 pm...
That's when a couple came in, preparing for marriage. We met for 90 minutes -- actually, a little longer. I talk too much. They pretended to find it helpful!
I had another meeting at 3:30; in between, my assistant had some checks for me to sign. That takes time, especially when I review the invoices, which is what I really should do. This time, I was a little hasty. Sometimes people say priests shouldn't worry about such things. But I'm a father, right? My father always handled the bills. He didn't "shop it out" to anyone, unless it was my mom. That's what the head of the household does.
My second appointment just left; afterward, I saw a few more checks needing signatures. I just finished that. Now I have some time before the Traditional Latin Mass tonight at 7 pm.
FYI -- before Mass, I not only prayed Morning Prayer (Lauds), I also prayed Daytime Prayer (Terce), because (a) it's allowed and (b), I know how a parish priest's day goes. I'll pray Vespers (Evening Prayer) before Mass tonight; and if possible, Matins (Office of Readings) for tomorrow.
I still have my Sunday homily. I didn't neglect it; part of my decisions today had to do with whether I did a homily on the Catholic Ministry Appeal -- since I won't be able to do it on the 17th when I'm away -- or else, do it January 24. I opted for the latter. Sometimes homilies don't come together until the last minute. Tomorrow, in addition to a morning Mass, and the evening Mass, and two-plus hours of confession, I have two appointments. With God's help, I'll come up with some sort of homily before the evening Mass.
Even though I didn't eat lunch, I probably won't have dinner until after Mass tonight. Because we'll have exposition and devotions to the Sacred Heart, that means around 8:30 pm or so. I don't really like to eat, and then go to have Mass or a meeting.
This is a pretty typical day, although not so typical for a Friday, because I don't usually have meetings on Tuesday.
Oh, and I still have some phone calls to make. Maybe I'll do that next...
Tuesday, January 05, 2016
Pork roast report.
Last night I fixed a pork loin. I originally planned to fix this on New Years Day for some friends I'd invited over, but one after another called the day before to say they couldn't come, so that party got cancelled. As I had other plans for Saturday and Sunday, Monday was my next opportunity to prepare this.
My original plan was to use rosemary and garlic; however, when I stopped at the store last Wednesday, the rosemary was gone; but there was a "mix" that had some rosemary, plus some sage and thyme, so I got that. It had enough rosemary both for the chicken I prepared Thursday, as well as for this roast.
Then, when I went to the cupboard for some garlic, I found the bulbs all dried out. So I used powdered, which works pretty well.
So this was pretty simple. I stripped the herbs off the stems, and chopped them up. Then I put them in a bowl with a generous amount of garlic, and added some olive oil to make a kind of paste. This I spread on both sides of the roast. I did this a couple hours before roasting it, so it could marinate the meat. If I had it to do over, I'd have done it much earlier. Here's the slab of meat in the pan. I tucked woody parts of the sage and thyme under the meat, figuring they might add some flavor. I didn't add any liquid. You can't tell, but I also generously salted and peppered the roast. (The side shown, below, ended up down. I cooked this fat side up.)
After about an hour or so, here's the roast. I cooked it to about 150 degrees, a little past where I wanted it; but as I was finishing the roast, a friend called and needed to come by. So I had to delay dinner a bit. He actually joined me for dinner, although he'd already eaten, so he just watched me eat.
For my friends who didn't make it on New Years, I had plans to make rosemary potatoes with this; but I decided to let that go, as I had some spinach, so I sauteed that. My friend helped me dispose of a bottle of sauvignon blanc, as well as some of the cheesecake I made for the seminarians. I had two slices of the roast, and the rest will be my meals for the rest of the week.
Sunday, January 03, 2016
Are you paying attention to the signs? (Epiphany homily)
Today we celebrate the Epiphany.
What is an “epiphany”?
If we have a sudden moment of clarity,
we’ll call it an “epiphany,” or, an “‘aha!’ moment.”
So it works like this:
Christmas: God is born a human being. But only a few learn of it.
January 1 is the eighth day; that’s when a newborn boy is circumcised;
And also when his name is given publicly for the first time.
Epiphany: now the child is revealed to the nations.
He’s not just a Messiah for the Jewish people,
but as Isaiah said in the first reading, light for the nations.
And that’s where the Magi come in—they are a symbol of the nations.
That’s why, even though they probably came from present-day Iran,
They are often depicted as being different races.
And their arrival is the beginning of the world having it’s “aha” moment.
Notice Matthew doesn’t call them kings, but “Magi.” What are “Magi”?
Magi were sort of like priest-philosophers
of the religion of Zoroastrianism.
And one of the things they did was to study the stars,
expecting them to give signs and meaning.
Now, the interesting thing is,
the stars and planets often line up in curious ways,
and you can have several seem to “meet” in the sky,
making for an unusual light which—
because it might happen so rarely—
no one alive had ever seen before.
There’s so much artificial light in the sky today that we miss a lot.
But in those days, everyone saw a night sky full of light;
and if you watched it, you saw lots of interesting things.
So while the sign might have been a miracle,
it also might have been one of the delightful surprises
that happen in the long course of the stars
slowly moving through their million-year cycles;
a delight that only God—
who planned it before time began—
can fully appreciate.
For the magi to make that arduous trip—
it must have been quite a sign.
No wonder Herod and the whole city were so troubled.
So let me sum this up with some questions to ponder.
They only saw that star because they were paying attention;
What signs might you have missed—because you weren’t looking?
Or, maybe you sort-of saw, but…because you didn’t want to see it,
you told yourself, nothing was there?
Sometimes the message is troubling. It doesn’t have to be.
Herod could have welcomed Jesus.
I don’t know how many times
I’ve had people come to confession who came in afraid—
but left so very, very, VERY happy
they didn’t ignore the prompting of their conscience.
I meet couples about every week who are preparing for marriage.
They are always glad they didn’t ignore
the signs and promptings that led them to each other.
And I tell you right now, I am not sorry
I followed the star that led me to be a priest.
But had I missed it,
and at the end of my life found out that I missed it?
I think I would have reason to be sorry!
Finally, we are sometimes tempted to think
that our particular part isn’t important.
But great things almost always start with tiny beginnings.
A baby is born. Far away visitors come to see.
But little by little, the message spread;
until the year of our Lord 2016 when a third of the world
calls Christ their king.
There are still Herods, striking out in violence.
Even so, the light keeps spreading.
The word of Isaiah is being fulfilled.
Today you are the Magi who came to visit.
What have you seen? What will you lay at his feet?
And, what will you tell others that you saw?
What is an “epiphany”?
If we have a sudden moment of clarity,
we’ll call it an “epiphany,” or, an “‘aha!’ moment.”
So it works like this:
Christmas: God is born a human being. But only a few learn of it.
January 1 is the eighth day; that’s when a newborn boy is circumcised;
And also when his name is given publicly for the first time.
Epiphany: now the child is revealed to the nations.
He’s not just a Messiah for the Jewish people,
but as Isaiah said in the first reading, light for the nations.
And that’s where the Magi come in—they are a symbol of the nations.
That’s why, even though they probably came from present-day Iran,
They are often depicted as being different races.
And their arrival is the beginning of the world having it’s “aha” moment.
Notice Matthew doesn’t call them kings, but “Magi.” What are “Magi”?
Magi were sort of like priest-philosophers
of the religion of Zoroastrianism.
And one of the things they did was to study the stars,
expecting them to give signs and meaning.
Now, the interesting thing is,
the stars and planets often line up in curious ways,
and you can have several seem to “meet” in the sky,
making for an unusual light which—
because it might happen so rarely—
no one alive had ever seen before.
There’s so much artificial light in the sky today that we miss a lot.
But in those days, everyone saw a night sky full of light;
and if you watched it, you saw lots of interesting things.
So while the sign might have been a miracle,
it also might have been one of the delightful surprises
that happen in the long course of the stars
slowly moving through their million-year cycles;
a delight that only God—
who planned it before time began—
can fully appreciate.
For the magi to make that arduous trip—
it must have been quite a sign.
No wonder Herod and the whole city were so troubled.
So let me sum this up with some questions to ponder.
They only saw that star because they were paying attention;
What signs might you have missed—because you weren’t looking?
Or, maybe you sort-of saw, but…because you didn’t want to see it,
you told yourself, nothing was there?
Sometimes the message is troubling. It doesn’t have to be.
Herod could have welcomed Jesus.
I don’t know how many times
I’ve had people come to confession who came in afraid—
but left so very, very, VERY happy
they didn’t ignore the prompting of their conscience.
I meet couples about every week who are preparing for marriage.
They are always glad they didn’t ignore
the signs and promptings that led them to each other.
And I tell you right now, I am not sorry
I followed the star that led me to be a priest.
But had I missed it,
and at the end of my life found out that I missed it?
I think I would have reason to be sorry!
Finally, we are sometimes tempted to think
that our particular part isn’t important.
But great things almost always start with tiny beginnings.
A baby is born. Far away visitors come to see.
But little by little, the message spread;
until the year of our Lord 2016 when a third of the world
calls Christ their king.
There are still Herods, striking out in violence.
Even so, the light keeps spreading.
The word of Isaiah is being fulfilled.
Today you are the Magi who came to visit.
What have you seen? What will you lay at his feet?
And, what will you tell others that you saw?
Saturday, January 02, 2016
What's in a name? (Mother of God homily)
There are actually three things we recall on this feast day,
and none of them has anything to do with the New Year.
First is the circumcision of Jesus; second is his naming;
and third, is the Motherhood of Mary.
According to the law of Moses,
a boy was to be circumcised on the eighth day;
and at that time, he receives his name publicly.
This is what observant Jews do to this day.
The Gospel also emphasizes his being named on this day.
Of course, we remember that the Archangel Gabriel
told both Mary and Joseph, “You shall name him Jesus.”
Don’t forget what the name Jesus –
in Hebrew, Yeshua or Joshua – means.
It means, the salvation of God, or God saves.
All this still would have taken place at home, not the temple.
Most likely, after Jesus was born in the stable,
Joseph found some more suitable quarters for the Holy Family.
And it would have been there
that this first ritual in a Jewish boy’s life took place.
This day recalls the first time the Gospel was announced:
when Mary, or Joseph spoke up and said, “His name is Jesus!”
That is to say, “Here is the salvation of God!”
This is a good time to talk about the importance of the names
that we give our children, and the names we bear.
We all know that lots of things go into what names
parents give their children.
Even though no one seems to listen to my baby-naming advice
(I’ve been dropping hints about “Martin” for over a decade,
with zero success!), I’m going to give some anyway.
First, may I suggest that you pray about what to name your child?
The name we bear is a powerful sign of who we are.
And your child’s life will be shaped by the name he or she bears.
Ask the Holy Spirit, ask your child’s guardian angel,
to guide your decision.
Second, I want to echo what the Church
has always strongly, strongly encouraged the faithful to do:
to choose names of saints, including Biblical names.
Remember, when you pick a saint’s name for your child,
you are giving your child a patron saint.
Thankfully, lots of names are saints’ names,
even when people don’t know it.
You can easily look it up either at the Patron Saint Index,*
or a site called Behind the Name.
Please give your child at least one saint’s name, if not two.
Which leads to another suggestion:
know what patron saint you have in mind.
I’ve talked to a lot of kids over the years
who had no idea who their patron saint was. No one had ever told them!
That made me sad, because my parents told me who my patron was: Saint Martin de Porres.
As I grew up, I learned more about him.
It’s a wonderful thing to have a saint in heaven
who you can call your own!
Now, if your name, or your child’s name, is “Oak” or “Summer,”
what do you do? No problem. You can still choose a patron.
Give it some thought. Pray about it.
For example, if I ever meet someone named “Oak,”
I’ll suggest Saint Boniface as his patron.
Finally we come to the name of today’s feast: “Mary, Mother of God.”
That title isn’t mainly about Mary, as much as we love
to honor and celebrate her faithful cooperation with God’s plan.
The point of the title is to emphasize who Jesus is. Son of Mary, yes;
Son of David, yes; Savior, yes; but also: True God from True God!
This is why Mary was called “Mother of God” early on,
and when some attacked this title, the Church’s bishops,
at the Council of Ephesus in AD 431,
reaffirmed that Mary truly is the “God-bearer.”
Even though this title, “Mother of God,”
is mainly about who Jesus is,
that doesn’t keep us from taking this opportunity
to honor Mary as well.
Some of our fellow Christians find fault with this;
as if to say that somehow, Jesus isn’t happy
when we his disciples shower our love on his mother.
But once I say that, doesn’t that seem silly?
Why wouldn’t Jesus, like any devoted son,
be delighted to see his mother treated with great love?
It reminds me of a custom we had in my home, growing up.
On our birthdays, we would go find mom
and wish her “Happy Mother’s Day.”
Because, after all, isn’t that true?
And so, that’s what the Church does throughout the world today.
We come to Mary, still holding her Son, our Savior and our God;
we adore him; and to Mary, we say,
“Hail Mary!” “Thank you Mary!” “Happy Mother’s Day!”
How fitting then that the Church grants a plenary indulgence
when the Faithful recite on Dec. 31 the Te Deum,
and on January 1, the Veni Creator.
The indulgence is granted
when we also make a good confession and receive holy communion –
within eight days is a good rule of thumb –
and say a Hail Mary and an Our Father
for the intentions of the holy father.
So at the end of Mass, instead of the Saint Michael Prayer,
we’ll pray the Te Deum/Veni Creator together,
plus an Our Father and a Hail Mary.
The prayers are in the books in your pews, and are in English.
* I just discovered this site is now called Catholic Saint Info.
and none of them has anything to do with the New Year.
First is the circumcision of Jesus; second is his naming;
and third, is the Motherhood of Mary.
According to the law of Moses,
a boy was to be circumcised on the eighth day;
and at that time, he receives his name publicly.
This is what observant Jews do to this day.
The Gospel also emphasizes his being named on this day.
Of course, we remember that the Archangel Gabriel
told both Mary and Joseph, “You shall name him Jesus.”
Don’t forget what the name Jesus –
in Hebrew, Yeshua or Joshua – means.
It means, the salvation of God, or God saves.
All this still would have taken place at home, not the temple.
Most likely, after Jesus was born in the stable,
Joseph found some more suitable quarters for the Holy Family.
And it would have been there
that this first ritual in a Jewish boy’s life took place.
This day recalls the first time the Gospel was announced:
when Mary, or Joseph spoke up and said, “His name is Jesus!”
That is to say, “Here is the salvation of God!”
This is a good time to talk about the importance of the names
that we give our children, and the names we bear.
We all know that lots of things go into what names
parents give their children.
Even though no one seems to listen to my baby-naming advice
(I’ve been dropping hints about “Martin” for over a decade,
with zero success!), I’m going to give some anyway.
First, may I suggest that you pray about what to name your child?
The name we bear is a powerful sign of who we are.
And your child’s life will be shaped by the name he or she bears.
Ask the Holy Spirit, ask your child’s guardian angel,
to guide your decision.
Second, I want to echo what the Church
has always strongly, strongly encouraged the faithful to do:
to choose names of saints, including Biblical names.
Remember, when you pick a saint’s name for your child,
you are giving your child a patron saint.
Thankfully, lots of names are saints’ names,
even when people don’t know it.
You can easily look it up either at the Patron Saint Index,*
or a site called Behind the Name.
Please give your child at least one saint’s name, if not two.
Which leads to another suggestion:
know what patron saint you have in mind.
I’ve talked to a lot of kids over the years
who had no idea who their patron saint was. No one had ever told them!
That made me sad, because my parents told me who my patron was: Saint Martin de Porres.
As I grew up, I learned more about him.
It’s a wonderful thing to have a saint in heaven
who you can call your own!
Now, if your name, or your child’s name, is “Oak” or “Summer,”
what do you do? No problem. You can still choose a patron.
Give it some thought. Pray about it.
For example, if I ever meet someone named “Oak,”
I’ll suggest Saint Boniface as his patron.
Finally we come to the name of today’s feast: “Mary, Mother of God.”
That title isn’t mainly about Mary, as much as we love
to honor and celebrate her faithful cooperation with God’s plan.
The point of the title is to emphasize who Jesus is. Son of Mary, yes;
Son of David, yes; Savior, yes; but also: True God from True God!
This is why Mary was called “Mother of God” early on,
and when some attacked this title, the Church’s bishops,
at the Council of Ephesus in AD 431,
reaffirmed that Mary truly is the “God-bearer.”
Even though this title, “Mother of God,”
is mainly about who Jesus is,
that doesn’t keep us from taking this opportunity
to honor Mary as well.
Some of our fellow Christians find fault with this;
as if to say that somehow, Jesus isn’t happy
when we his disciples shower our love on his mother.
But once I say that, doesn’t that seem silly?
Why wouldn’t Jesus, like any devoted son,
be delighted to see his mother treated with great love?
It reminds me of a custom we had in my home, growing up.
On our birthdays, we would go find mom
and wish her “Happy Mother’s Day.”
Because, after all, isn’t that true?
And so, that’s what the Church does throughout the world today.
We come to Mary, still holding her Son, our Savior and our God;
we adore him; and to Mary, we say,
“Hail Mary!” “Thank you Mary!” “Happy Mother’s Day!”
How fitting then that the Church grants a plenary indulgence
when the Faithful recite on Dec. 31 the Te Deum,
and on January 1, the Veni Creator.
The indulgence is granted
when we also make a good confession and receive holy communion –
within eight days is a good rule of thumb –
and say a Hail Mary and an Our Father
for the intentions of the holy father.
So at the end of Mass, instead of the Saint Michael Prayer,
we’ll pray the Te Deum/Veni Creator together,
plus an Our Father and a Hail Mary.
The prayers are in the books in your pews, and are in English.
* I just discovered this site is now called Catholic Saint Info.
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Dinner with our seminarians
The parish's three seminarians are home from college, so I invited them for dinner during the Christmas Octave. We settled on tonight.
As I have Holy Mass at 5 pm, I have to get things mostly in order beforehand. So I've been working on this since yesterday.
I started with something new: a cheesecake, using this recipe.
Here is the ricotta and cream cheeses, with the sour cream and pretend sugar:
Here are the eggs, extra yolks, lemon juice, and vanilla. Next in is the cream:
Here's the batter, which I was careful not to "overwhip" (per the instructions):
Here is the cake in the water bath, going in the oven. (The water bath was there already.) Please don't notice the condition of the oven. Just today I figured out how to use the "self clean" option.
So that cooked for almost 2 hours, then it cooled in the oven for another three, then into the fridge. That was all last night.
This afternoon, I cleaned the chicken and dried it -- it's in the fridge, so the skin dries a bit more. I have to put that in the oven right before Holy Mass, and then hurry back to get it out of the oven right after. A little later, after the skin has dried some, I'll dress the chicken with butter and pepper, and stuff it with lemon slices and rosemary, a la Zuhlsdorf.
Meanwhile, I got the red potatoes ready. These will cook below the chicken -- meaning, they'll soak up all that wonderful goodness given off by the chicken. Here are the potatoes, washed, drizzled with olive oil, and sprinkled with pepper, salt and fresh rosemary:
And, while I'm fooling around in the kitchen, I got out the cheesecake, and took the top part of the pan away. (Sorry, I should have gotten a photo after that!) I was a little disappointed in it's (lack of) height; but the little bit I tasted from the pan was good. I will offer the guys some chocolate sauce, or some raspberry-rhubarb sauce, if they like, to go with it.
OK, I just popped the bird in the oven. Fifteen minutes on high, then down to a lower temp for the rest of the way.
Here's the bird, before being dressed with butter, pepper and salt, and stuffed with lemons and rosemary:
Here it is with all that. The butter didn't spread very well -- the skin was still too wet -- so I rubbed some olive oil on.
Meanwhile, here's the dinner table, all set. In the upper left is our patron, Saint Remigius, depicted in a Russian-style icon. (Get it?)
In a few minutes, I'll turn down the oven, and then over to Mass. I hope the servers show up!
As I have Holy Mass at 5 pm, I have to get things mostly in order beforehand. So I've been working on this since yesterday.
I started with something new: a cheesecake, using this recipe.
Here is the ricotta and cream cheeses, with the sour cream and pretend sugar:
Here are the eggs, extra yolks, lemon juice, and vanilla. Next in is the cream:
Here's the batter, which I was careful not to "overwhip" (per the instructions):
Here is the cake in the water bath, going in the oven. (The water bath was there already.) Please don't notice the condition of the oven. Just today I figured out how to use the "self clean" option.
So that cooked for almost 2 hours, then it cooled in the oven for another three, then into the fridge. That was all last night.
This afternoon, I cleaned the chicken and dried it -- it's in the fridge, so the skin dries a bit more. I have to put that in the oven right before Holy Mass, and then hurry back to get it out of the oven right after. A little later, after the skin has dried some, I'll dress the chicken with butter and pepper, and stuff it with lemon slices and rosemary, a la Zuhlsdorf.
Meanwhile, I got the red potatoes ready. These will cook below the chicken -- meaning, they'll soak up all that wonderful goodness given off by the chicken. Here are the potatoes, washed, drizzled with olive oil, and sprinkled with pepper, salt and fresh rosemary:
And, while I'm fooling around in the kitchen, I got out the cheesecake, and took the top part of the pan away. (Sorry, I should have gotten a photo after that!) I was a little disappointed in it's (lack of) height; but the little bit I tasted from the pan was good. I will offer the guys some chocolate sauce, or some raspberry-rhubarb sauce, if they like, to go with it.
OK, I just popped the bird in the oven. Fifteen minutes on high, then down to a lower temp for the rest of the way.
Here's the bird, before being dressed with butter, pepper and salt, and stuffed with lemons and rosemary:
Here it is with all that. The butter didn't spread very well -- the skin was still too wet -- so I rubbed some olive oil on.
Meanwhile, here's the dinner table, all set. In the upper left is our patron, Saint Remigius, depicted in a Russian-style icon. (Get it?)
In a few minutes, I'll turn down the oven, and then over to Mass. I hope the servers show up!
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Three families (Holy Family homily)
On this Feast of the Holy Family, I invite you to reflect, with me,
on three families.
The first family is our human family – our individual families.
This is a time of year in which we emphasize family;
we try to get together with our families and a lot of us look forward to that.
Many of us have children and grandchildren visiting;
people bring boyfriends or girlfriends to visit; couples get engaged.
Gathering with family is really important.
An unintended result is that this can be a sad time for many,
either because someone they love is absent; because of a death,
or because of pain and division in their family.
Some families are separated by long distances.
But many families are separated by other things;
and at this time of year, those wounds are painful.
For some, staying away is the least-painful option.
May I offer a suggestion?
If you know someone who isn’t with his or her family
at this time of year, don’t ask too many questions.
An invitation to be with your family is the best thing.
And if you have the blessing of a happy, close family,
stop and realize what a gift that is.
This brings us to our second family: the Holy Family.
We know that Mary was conceived without sin, and full of grace.
We don’t know a lot about Saint Joseph,
but he was a holy and prayerful man.
God spoke to him in his dreams, and Joseph listened.
That God chose Joseph to be the protector of Mary,
and the foster father of the Divine Son,
says all we need to know about Joseph’s character.
But in recognizing the sanctity of this family,
don’t make them too distant from our families.
Consider what they had to go through.
We know that Joseph and Mary were of humble means.
Do you think if Joseph had had a bag full of gold,
they’d have turned him away from the inn on Christmas night?
They’d have found room for a wealthy customer, don’t you think?
We know that Joseph had to work hard.
He had to pay taxes to the cruel Romans.
He had all the same worries any business owner,
any parent, might have.
And then consider what must have happened
as a result of the special circumstances of Jesus’ birth.
Everyone knew that when Mary became pregnant,
it was before Joseph and Mary were still, as we’d say, “engaged.”
So there were two obvious inferences for all the gossips to draw.
One was to point the finger at Joseph.
The other, even more insulting jibe,
was to say Mary had had another “friend.”
And when Mary and Joseph both said, it wasn’t Joseph,
but the Holy Spirit, what do you think the poison tongues said then?
When Pope Paul VI gave a homily one time about this feast,
he talked about how powerful it can be to contemplate the Holy Family.
I’d like to invite anyone, who thinks the Holy Family is distant, and unlike us,
to think through what these circumstances meant for Joseph and Mary, and Jesus.
The gossip. The laughter. The insults. The temptation to strike back.
That this family was filled with holiness
didn’t mean they knew no suffering.
And just because our family situations feature pain and wounds,
doesn’t mean we and our families can’t be holy.
And that brings us to our third family – and that is the Divine Family.
When God came to earth as one of us,
his purpose was to expand the “family” of the Trinity –
Father, Son and Holy Spirit – to include us.
To adopt us into that Divine Family.
In baptism we are reborn;
we are born spiritually as true children of God.
Think about what that means to say, you are a child of God.
I am the child of James and Rose Ann Fox.
Everyone who knew my parents can see the likeness I bear to them,
for obvious reasons.
As I get older, more and more of the things my parents said to me –
which they thought I ignored – comes out of my own mouth!
And one thing I knew about my parents, about my family,
was that I belonged to them.
I wasn’t a renter; it wasn’t a business arrangement.
I was – I am – their son.
And when we are baptized, we become part of God’s Family.
God is our Father. Jesus is our brother.
The Holy Spirit binds us as one.
(Here I added a few words about the saints being our older brothers and sisters in the Divine Family, who show us how to be children of God.)
God became part of our family – our families.
With all their pain and failure, with all that is both joyful and shameful.
He wasn’t ashamed to call us his family.
All so that we could be part of his Divine Family,
both here on earth, and forever, in heaven.
on three families.
The first family is our human family – our individual families.
This is a time of year in which we emphasize family;
we try to get together with our families and a lot of us look forward to that.
Many of us have children and grandchildren visiting;
people bring boyfriends or girlfriends to visit; couples get engaged.
Gathering with family is really important.
An unintended result is that this can be a sad time for many,
either because someone they love is absent; because of a death,
or because of pain and division in their family.
Some families are separated by long distances.
But many families are separated by other things;
and at this time of year, those wounds are painful.
For some, staying away is the least-painful option.
May I offer a suggestion?
If you know someone who isn’t with his or her family
at this time of year, don’t ask too many questions.
An invitation to be with your family is the best thing.
And if you have the blessing of a happy, close family,
stop and realize what a gift that is.
This brings us to our second family: the Holy Family.
We know that Mary was conceived without sin, and full of grace.
We don’t know a lot about Saint Joseph,
but he was a holy and prayerful man.
God spoke to him in his dreams, and Joseph listened.
That God chose Joseph to be the protector of Mary,
and the foster father of the Divine Son,
says all we need to know about Joseph’s character.
But in recognizing the sanctity of this family,
don’t make them too distant from our families.
Consider what they had to go through.
We know that Joseph and Mary were of humble means.
Do you think if Joseph had had a bag full of gold,
they’d have turned him away from the inn on Christmas night?
They’d have found room for a wealthy customer, don’t you think?
We know that Joseph had to work hard.
He had to pay taxes to the cruel Romans.
He had all the same worries any business owner,
any parent, might have.
And then consider what must have happened
as a result of the special circumstances of Jesus’ birth.
Everyone knew that when Mary became pregnant,
it was before Joseph and Mary were still, as we’d say, “engaged.”
So there were two obvious inferences for all the gossips to draw.
One was to point the finger at Joseph.
The other, even more insulting jibe,
was to say Mary had had another “friend.”
And when Mary and Joseph both said, it wasn’t Joseph,
but the Holy Spirit, what do you think the poison tongues said then?
When Pope Paul VI gave a homily one time about this feast,
he talked about how powerful it can be to contemplate the Holy Family.
I’d like to invite anyone, who thinks the Holy Family is distant, and unlike us,
to think through what these circumstances meant for Joseph and Mary, and Jesus.
The gossip. The laughter. The insults. The temptation to strike back.
That this family was filled with holiness
didn’t mean they knew no suffering.
And just because our family situations feature pain and wounds,
doesn’t mean we and our families can’t be holy.
And that brings us to our third family – and that is the Divine Family.
When God came to earth as one of us,
his purpose was to expand the “family” of the Trinity –
Father, Son and Holy Spirit – to include us.
To adopt us into that Divine Family.
In baptism we are reborn;
we are born spiritually as true children of God.
Think about what that means to say, you are a child of God.
I am the child of James and Rose Ann Fox.
Everyone who knew my parents can see the likeness I bear to them,
for obvious reasons.
As I get older, more and more of the things my parents said to me –
which they thought I ignored – comes out of my own mouth!
And one thing I knew about my parents, about my family,
was that I belonged to them.
I wasn’t a renter; it wasn’t a business arrangement.
I was – I am – their son.
And when we are baptized, we become part of God’s Family.
God is our Father. Jesus is our brother.
The Holy Spirit binds us as one.
(Here I added a few words about the saints being our older brothers and sisters in the Divine Family, who show us how to be children of God.)
God became part of our family – our families.
With all their pain and failure, with all that is both joyful and shameful.
He wasn’t ashamed to call us his family.
All so that we could be part of his Divine Family,
both here on earth, and forever, in heaven.
Friday, December 25, 2015
All the world pauses for Christmas. Why? (Christmas homily)
There’s a funny thing about Christmas.
Even though only about a third of the world is Christian,
practically the whole world celebrates Christmas.
In North and South America, from coast to coast and pole to pole,
this is a national holiday.
As I mentioned the other day, businesses and entertainment media
may try to repackage it as the “holiday that must not be named,”
even so, everyone knows what that holiday is.
Indeed, even Jews, Muslims and non-believers
keep Christmas in their own way, because they are so often
the ones who volunteer to work on Christmas,
so their Christian friends and coworkers can have the day.
Across Africa and Asia,
the world’s newest Christians are celebrating this day.
Did you know that in Africa,
in China and Korea, and other places in Asia,
the Christian faith is seeing tremendous growth? Despite persecution.
In China, the ruling Communist party tears down churches
and forbids those that remain to show the cross;
they’ve tried to create a puppet church
and they throw you in a concentration camp
if you are faithful to the pope.
And despite all that, year upon year, millions are baptized.
North Korea, the closest place to hell on earth,
recently agreed to let Catholic priests visit from South Korea.
In the land of our Savior’s birth, it’s a sad Christmas,
because so many Christians are being driven out.
And yet, on this night, Holy Mass is being celebrated
in the very place where Jesus was born.
And if you went to Jerusalem this very night,
even though there are very few Christians there,
you would know that today was Christmas Day.
Many of us can remember when communism held sway
from the heart of Europe to the rice paddies of Indochina.
And in that prison of nations,
where fear and darkness reigned so cruelly,
try as they might, they could not kill Christmas.
Just like our corporations and media have done here,
they tried to reinvent it – but everyone knew the truth.
The red star has long since been toppled,
but the star of Bethlehem still shines.
Yes, we know that in many places
where the Gospel was brought long ago,
faith is thin and more and more want the trappings of Christmas,
without the Christ whose day it is.
And yet…despite themselves, they are still celebrating his birthday!
To steal a phrase from a very different context:
you may not be interested in the Christ Child,
but the Christ Child is interested in you.
In a faraway place you may never have heard of –
Brunei, in the islands of Indonesia –
where only 10% of the people are Christian,
the mighty Sultan has decreed: Christmas is illegal!
Only the Christian minority may celebrate it,
and only with his permission, and then, only in private.
No Christmas trees, no Santa hats. They are dangerous!
And he’s right. Christmas is dangerous.
Herod understood it; so did Pilate; so did Caesar,
and all their heirs, down to the present day.
The child born in poverty is destined to reign –
and as we’ve seen, he’s gained a foothold in every corner of the world.
The Sultan is right to be nervous.
It’s fashionable to treat all this as a fable.
A nice story, a story that’s simply too good to be true.
Now, here’s a curious thing. If it’s all a fable, who first told it?
There are those who will tell you,
it was all a plot long ago by the Emperor Constantine and the pope.
But they are wrong.
The story of this King was told centuries before he was ever born.
It was a prophet Micah who said, 700 years before,
That he would be born in Bethlehem, the city of David –
and yet would be, somehow, eternal.
It was Isaiah who foretold his virgin birth;
and that he would save his people from their sins.
And here’s another curious thing.
Do you know what “Bethlehem” means?
It means, “House of Bread.”
In the House of Bread was born the one
who would give his people the Bread of Life;
and where did his mother place him? In a manger – a food bin.
The story is so amazing – the twists and turns so improbable.
He was crucified, that ought to have finished him.
Why would anyone want to follow a defeated and humiliated king?
“He saved others; he cannot save himself,” they mocked him.
Peter and Paul, tax collectors and prostitutes,
such absurd witnesses and leaders!
And yet, if you go to Rome this day,
you can venerate the bones of both Peter and Paul.
And there bones have no business being in Rome, yet they are;
and for just one reason: because they, with others,
saw Jesus rise from the dead,
and so they, in turn, gave their lives rather than deny what they saw!
Now, a bit more than 2,000 years has passed
since that night when the king was born.
And with all the things that are hard to explain
about the Catholic Faith, the hardest may be:
why does the Catholic Church even exist—at all?
Babylon is fallen, the Roman Empire has crumbled,
the winds of time have swept away everything in their path.
And yet, against all odds, the Church Jesus founded still stands.
And the strangest thing of all:
on this day, the world celebrates his birth.
Much of the world doesn’t know why – or exactly what it’s celebrating.
A child was born, in a nowhere place;
Yet now, the whole world can’t help but pause, and notice.
The Light has entered the world, and the world can’t deny it.
Much of our world fights the light, and tries to extinguish it.
Many who belong to Christ neglect his light and ignore his inspiration.
The world is a long way from being filled by his light, and changed by it.
And yet across the ages ring the words of the Apostle John:
“the light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.”
What has brought you here? Many things; many paths.
You and I, with the world, cannot help but be fascinated by this child, and his light.
Pause and behold him. And, more than that, let him behold you!
Let his gaze meet yours. Meet the king that half the world,
without half knowing him, cannot help but pause, on this night, to adore.
Even though only about a third of the world is Christian,
practically the whole world celebrates Christmas.
In North and South America, from coast to coast and pole to pole,
this is a national holiday.
As I mentioned the other day, businesses and entertainment media
may try to repackage it as the “holiday that must not be named,”
even so, everyone knows what that holiday is.
Indeed, even Jews, Muslims and non-believers
keep Christmas in their own way, because they are so often
the ones who volunteer to work on Christmas,
so their Christian friends and coworkers can have the day.
Across Africa and Asia,
the world’s newest Christians are celebrating this day.
Did you know that in Africa,
in China and Korea, and other places in Asia,
the Christian faith is seeing tremendous growth? Despite persecution.
In China, the ruling Communist party tears down churches
and forbids those that remain to show the cross;
they’ve tried to create a puppet church
and they throw you in a concentration camp
if you are faithful to the pope.
And despite all that, year upon year, millions are baptized.
North Korea, the closest place to hell on earth,
recently agreed to let Catholic priests visit from South Korea.
In the land of our Savior’s birth, it’s a sad Christmas,
because so many Christians are being driven out.
And yet, on this night, Holy Mass is being celebrated
in the very place where Jesus was born.
And if you went to Jerusalem this very night,
even though there are very few Christians there,
you would know that today was Christmas Day.
Many of us can remember when communism held sway
from the heart of Europe to the rice paddies of Indochina.
And in that prison of nations,
where fear and darkness reigned so cruelly,
try as they might, they could not kill Christmas.
Just like our corporations and media have done here,
they tried to reinvent it – but everyone knew the truth.
The red star has long since been toppled,
but the star of Bethlehem still shines.
Yes, we know that in many places
where the Gospel was brought long ago,
faith is thin and more and more want the trappings of Christmas,
without the Christ whose day it is.
And yet…despite themselves, they are still celebrating his birthday!
To steal a phrase from a very different context:
you may not be interested in the Christ Child,
but the Christ Child is interested in you.
In a faraway place you may never have heard of –
Brunei, in the islands of Indonesia –
where only 10% of the people are Christian,
the mighty Sultan has decreed: Christmas is illegal!
Only the Christian minority may celebrate it,
and only with his permission, and then, only in private.
No Christmas trees, no Santa hats. They are dangerous!
And he’s right. Christmas is dangerous.
Herod understood it; so did Pilate; so did Caesar,
and all their heirs, down to the present day.
The child born in poverty is destined to reign –
and as we’ve seen, he’s gained a foothold in every corner of the world.
The Sultan is right to be nervous.
It’s fashionable to treat all this as a fable.
A nice story, a story that’s simply too good to be true.
Now, here’s a curious thing. If it’s all a fable, who first told it?
There are those who will tell you,
it was all a plot long ago by the Emperor Constantine and the pope.
But they are wrong.
The story of this King was told centuries before he was ever born.
It was a prophet Micah who said, 700 years before,
That he would be born in Bethlehem, the city of David –
and yet would be, somehow, eternal.
It was Isaiah who foretold his virgin birth;
and that he would save his people from their sins.
And here’s another curious thing.
Do you know what “Bethlehem” means?
It means, “House of Bread.”
In the House of Bread was born the one
who would give his people the Bread of Life;
and where did his mother place him? In a manger – a food bin.
The story is so amazing – the twists and turns so improbable.
He was crucified, that ought to have finished him.
Why would anyone want to follow a defeated and humiliated king?
“He saved others; he cannot save himself,” they mocked him.
Peter and Paul, tax collectors and prostitutes,
such absurd witnesses and leaders!
And yet, if you go to Rome this day,
you can venerate the bones of both Peter and Paul.
And there bones have no business being in Rome, yet they are;
and for just one reason: because they, with others,
saw Jesus rise from the dead,
and so they, in turn, gave their lives rather than deny what they saw!
Now, a bit more than 2,000 years has passed
since that night when the king was born.
And with all the things that are hard to explain
about the Catholic Faith, the hardest may be:
why does the Catholic Church even exist—at all?
Babylon is fallen, the Roman Empire has crumbled,
the winds of time have swept away everything in their path.
And yet, against all odds, the Church Jesus founded still stands.
And the strangest thing of all:
on this day, the world celebrates his birth.
Much of the world doesn’t know why – or exactly what it’s celebrating.
A child was born, in a nowhere place;
Yet now, the whole world can’t help but pause, and notice.
The Light has entered the world, and the world can’t deny it.
Much of our world fights the light, and tries to extinguish it.
Many who belong to Christ neglect his light and ignore his inspiration.
The world is a long way from being filled by his light, and changed by it.
And yet across the ages ring the words of the Apostle John:
“the light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.”
What has brought you here? Many things; many paths.
You and I, with the world, cannot help but be fascinated by this child, and his light.
Pause and behold him. And, more than that, let him behold you!
Let his gaze meet yours. Meet the king that half the world,
without half knowing him, cannot help but pause, on this night, to adore.
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Where the Christmas Tree came from (repost from 2011)
Originally posted December 21, 2011.
(This is a talk I gave today to the Piqua Kiwanis Club, of which I am a member.)
By now, if you put up a Christmas tree, you’ve already got it up. Actually, I have not! But I like to put it up this week, for reasons that will become clear shortly.
In any case, I bet you have heard different stories about the origin of the Christmas tree.
Some of you have heard the Christmas tree was a pagan thing that Christians “baptized” at some point--meaning they converted it from having a pagan meaning to having a Christian or at least innocuous meaning.
Some have heard that there is some connection between the Christmas Tree and Saint Boniface, who brought the Gospel to Germany.
How many simply have no idea where it came from?
In order to explain it, I have to explain something most people don’t know.
The Catholic Church assigns a day on the calendar for every saint, including saints of the Old Testament. So the Prophet Elijah is considered a saint, and his day is July 20. Moses’ day is September 4.
You may not know that Adam and Eve are also considered saints. Do you know what their day is?
December 24--Christmas Eve.
Now, I don’t know why December 24 is their day, but I would guess--and it’s only a guess--that it was done precisely as a lead-in to Christmas.
So let’s go back in history to approximately the year AD 1200. Let’s land in Europe, where many, if not most, of our ancestors came from, and where the search for the Christmas Tree takes us.
Remember, in the year 1200, there are very few books, because books must be copied by hand, which is time consuming and expensive. That’s why people didn’t read. It would be like saying, did you know in the year 1980, no one knew how to twitter? It’s true!
So…how do you teach people the Faith in those days? Well, you do what I bet Pastor Wells often does at his church--and we do in ours--we organize plays.
Just like today, a community would have celebrations through the year. What do we do in Piqua? We have festivals and parades and folks love to come, particularly with their kids. Some things never change.
They would do the same, but instead of Memorial Day, Independence Day and Labor Day, they would gather on saints’ days and feast days. If they didn’t come into town to attend church every week, they’d come then.
And these would be great occasions to have plays to teach people the Faith. The plays would take place in the church, or the public square--and, naturally, they would be fun occasions for everyone to come together.
So, we’re in our time machine; let’s land in Germany--and imagine showing up for one of these plays; maybe some enterprising businessperson--like Peggy H____ or Gretchen R___--those are good German names!--is out selling bratwurst und streudel to feed the folks who came to the festival!
So here we are in December. And the mayor of the town--or the pastor--is organizing the celebration n of Adam and Eve day, December 24th. I’m not guessing about this, we know they did this.
But imagine you’re the person who is in charge of the play. The pastor says, “we need props for the play!” If you want a props for a play about Adam and Eve, what would you need?
How about a tree? What sort of tree are you going to find--that’s not bare--in December?
A fir tree!
Now, it is true that the story of Saint Boniface connects here. Saint Boniface, in preaching to my ancestors running around in the Black Forest, confronted those who worshipped trees. And when he saw them worshipping a mighty oak, he took an axe and brought it down, and said, “how stands your god now?” The story goes that because Thor didn’t strike him down, my great-great-great….grandfather and his brothers all listened as Boniface told them about Jesus Christ. And, the story goes, a fir tree sprung up in the place where the oak was felled.
So some claim that this is how the fir tree was involved; the trouble is, I don’t have any evidence for that. But we do know they had the plays; and we do know that, in December, in Germany, no other trees are green.
So you come back: "Hier ist ein tree!" "Gut, gut!” says the pastor. “Now, getten zome fruiten for das tree!"
Fruit? Why would you need fruit on this tree?
Adam and Eve, remember?
Now…Pastor Wells can tell us, what does Genesis say is the type of fruit on the Tree of knowledge of Good and Bad?
That’s right--the Bible just says “fruit.”
So, what fruit might you find in Germany in December? Well, nothing on trees, of course, but maybe in a basement? How about apples?
You may also be interested to know that in Latin--the Scriptures were in Latin then--the word for "bad" (as in "the tree of the knowledge of good and bad") is "malum"; and the word for apples, is "malum."
So while those are guesses about how apples came to be chosen, we do know apples were placed on the tree.
They also placed another decoration on the tree: discs of bread.
If you’re wondering why, recall that in the Garden of Eden, there were two trees mentioned by name. Not only the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, but also, the Tree of Life. We know that they ate from the Tree of Knowledge; but there remained the Tree of Life--which they couldn’t eat from once they’d sinned.
And what they were attempting to teach was about the Eucharist--holy communion--being a sharing in the death of Christ; who, remember, died on a “tree”--it was Saint Paul who called the cross “a tree.“
So the “Paradise Tree,“ in these plays, was both trees in one, with the fruit that brought death, and the fruit that gives life!
Over many years, these plays were performed in Germany, but along the way they got out of hand--hmm, a play about Adam and Eve, with forbidden fruit? How could anyone take that the wrong way? So Church authorities called a halt to the plays. But folks liked the "Paradise Trees" so they continued setting them up--at home.
Now at this stage, the decorations gradually change; there are different stories about when glass ornaments came along--either in the 1500s or the 1800s. But what seems to have happened was that other fruit or nuts were placed on the trees, and along the way, the discs of bread were replaced by cookies. I’m curious: who here has, or has seen, cookies-baked to be very hard--as ornaments? How about fruit-shaped ornaments? I bet some of you even have apple-shaped ornaments; I have.
Who knows the story about the lights on the tree? The story usually told is that Martin Luther added candles; I couldn’t find any source for that, but I don’t have many Lutheran sources! My mother, who was born in 1914, remembered candles from her childhood. Has anyone here ever seen real candles on a tree?
So, with all this information, I think we can answer the claim made by some that the Christmas Tree is something pagan. It is not; it is Christian and Biblical--meant to point back to Adam and Eve, but also to Christ, and the Cross.
And when you enjoy looking at your Christmas Tree this year, think of the passage from Revelation, that describes the New Jerusalem, the City of God, with no sun or moon, because the Lamb is its light; and in the center, along the River of Life, is the Tree of Life, giving twelve kinds of fruit all twelve months of the year.
Sources:
“In Defense Of The Christmas Tree,” by the Very Rev. Daniel Daly, published in The Word Magazine, December 2002; accessed online at:
http://www.prescottorthodox.org/2010/12/in-defense-of-the-christmas-tree-2/.
“The Christmas Tree,” by Rayn Blair; appearing in Celebrations: a social studies resource guide for elementary teachers, Fall, 1996, published by Department of Elementary Education, College of Education, Utah State University; accessed online at: http://teacherlink.ed.usu.edu/tlresources/units/Byrnes-celebrations/christmas.html.
The Christmas Tree, by Daniel J. Foley, Chilton Co., 1960.
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Invite people back this Christmas (Sunday homily)
Many times you’ve heard me talk about the importance of sharing our faith. This week, I saw an article in the National Catholic Register – and I decided I wanted to talk to you about it.
The headline is: “The No. 1 Thing I’ve Learned From Talking With Fallen-Away Catholics.”
The author, Katie Warner, has worked for ten years with a group called “Catholics Coming Home.” From time to time, you may see some ads they run on TV, that invite Catholics who have gotten away from their faith, to get back to it. They are very nicely done. A few years ago, the Archdiocese ran a series of those ads right around this time.
In this job, she would talk to a lot of inactive Catholics, and she said, “the messages I receive from (them) range from cordial to scathing, and it didn’t take me long…to see that there are common threads in their conversations.”
She goes on to say:
“Many of these people are hurting; many are angry; many are lost. All have stories; all have reasons for leaving — reasons ranging from ‘I just drifted away’ to ‘I don’t believe in these teachings’ to ‘Someone in the Church wronged me.’” She also explained that the first and the last reasons are the most common. That is to say: either that people drifted away or someone wronged them.
But the most important lesson she drew was this: “Almost all of these fallen-away Catholics want to know that someone cares.” That someone notices they aren’t there. That we’re sorry to see them go. That it matters to us.
There is cause for hope. Ms. Warner reported that often, people would go from being angry, to opening up. And I can confirm that from my own experience. Many times I’ve spoken with someone who was hurt, years before, by a dispute in a parish – maybe with the priest, maybe with other parishioners. And the person was angry. But the fact that I or someone else reached out to them made a huge difference. Hearts can be softened.
Our gaze is toward Christmas Day. It’s a few days away. One of the things I learned from a wise priest, Father Tom Grilliot, who has gone to his reward, was that this is a time of year when people are more open spiritually. All around us, there are TV specials and marketing campaigns, and even though they try to avoid mentioning the word, we all know it’s about Christmas! Now, we may want to be irritated, but don’t be. Instead, seize the advantage: we all know this is the Christmas season – we all know it. So don’t be afraid to talk about it.
People are hungry. They are like the people of Israel who were waiting, and longing, for a redeemer. The trouble – both now, and when Jesus was born – was and is that we all have reason to be cynical. Time and again, people have their hopes raised, only to be dashed. It was true then; it’s true now.
So what do we do?
Well, Ms. Warner says that when we talk to people who are away from the Church, the first thing to do is “tell them they are missed and that you care that they are away.” Second? “Invite them home.”
There are about 800 folks who routinely come to Mass here every weekend. That’s really good. A lot of my priest friends are envious, because our church is mostly full on the weekend.
But there are about twice that many Catholics in our parish boundaries. Some of them are away at college; some are homebound. But many of them are just…drifting.
There’s never a bad time to invite and welcome people, but this is a particularly good time. If people want to know, I’ll be hearing confessions on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings from 7 to 8 or so.
There’s no need to hit people over the head. Just invite. Ms. Warner said that when they would ask people who returned to the Church, why they returned, they’d respond, “because you invited me”!
Sometimes the most powerful things are the simplest things.
The headline is: “The No. 1 Thing I’ve Learned From Talking With Fallen-Away Catholics.”
The author, Katie Warner, has worked for ten years with a group called “Catholics Coming Home.” From time to time, you may see some ads they run on TV, that invite Catholics who have gotten away from their faith, to get back to it. They are very nicely done. A few years ago, the Archdiocese ran a series of those ads right around this time.
In this job, she would talk to a lot of inactive Catholics, and she said, “the messages I receive from (them) range from cordial to scathing, and it didn’t take me long…to see that there are common threads in their conversations.”
She goes on to say:
“Many of these people are hurting; many are angry; many are lost. All have stories; all have reasons for leaving — reasons ranging from ‘I just drifted away’ to ‘I don’t believe in these teachings’ to ‘Someone in the Church wronged me.’” She also explained that the first and the last reasons are the most common. That is to say: either that people drifted away or someone wronged them.
But the most important lesson she drew was this: “Almost all of these fallen-away Catholics want to know that someone cares.” That someone notices they aren’t there. That we’re sorry to see them go. That it matters to us.
There is cause for hope. Ms. Warner reported that often, people would go from being angry, to opening up. And I can confirm that from my own experience. Many times I’ve spoken with someone who was hurt, years before, by a dispute in a parish – maybe with the priest, maybe with other parishioners. And the person was angry. But the fact that I or someone else reached out to them made a huge difference. Hearts can be softened.
Our gaze is toward Christmas Day. It’s a few days away. One of the things I learned from a wise priest, Father Tom Grilliot, who has gone to his reward, was that this is a time of year when people are more open spiritually. All around us, there are TV specials and marketing campaigns, and even though they try to avoid mentioning the word, we all know it’s about Christmas! Now, we may want to be irritated, but don’t be. Instead, seize the advantage: we all know this is the Christmas season – we all know it. So don’t be afraid to talk about it.
People are hungry. They are like the people of Israel who were waiting, and longing, for a redeemer. The trouble – both now, and when Jesus was born – was and is that we all have reason to be cynical. Time and again, people have their hopes raised, only to be dashed. It was true then; it’s true now.
So what do we do?
Well, Ms. Warner says that when we talk to people who are away from the Church, the first thing to do is “tell them they are missed and that you care that they are away.” Second? “Invite them home.”
There are about 800 folks who routinely come to Mass here every weekend. That’s really good. A lot of my priest friends are envious, because our church is mostly full on the weekend.
But there are about twice that many Catholics in our parish boundaries. Some of them are away at college; some are homebound. But many of them are just…drifting.
There’s never a bad time to invite and welcome people, but this is a particularly good time. If people want to know, I’ll be hearing confessions on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings from 7 to 8 or so.
There’s no need to hit people over the head. Just invite. Ms. Warner said that when they would ask people who returned to the Church, why they returned, they’d respond, “because you invited me”!
Sometimes the most powerful things are the simplest things.
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