Seek the Treasure -- Mary will help (Sunday homily)

There are times when what our Lord Jesus said in the Gospel 
doesn’t need very much explanation. Today is one of those days.

You and I know what the treasure is that he speaks of. 
He, himself, is that treasure. In one parable, 
the fellow stumbles upon it; and that happens to us. 
Sometimes we are going along in life, 
and a crisis or an illness changes changes everything, 
and we suddenly that how thin and worthless 
are things we used to chase after.

In the other parable, 
only after a long search does the merchant finally discover 
the pearl worth having. A lot of us have spent our lives 
looking for meaning, and we try everything. Nothing really satisfies.

The treasure is Jesus himself: knowing him, and being with him.

But here’s the thing Jesus wanted to make very clear, 
so he repeated it: you and I don’t just pick up the treasure; 
someone doesn’t just give us the pearl. 
Everything goes on the line. It takes effort and full commitment. 
We trade in everything else we value.

Lots of people know God exists – and they believe Jesus is the Messiah. 
They think believing in God is a good thing. 
Lots of parents figure that having some religion in the family, 
exposing their kids to some faith, is good for them, 
sort of like exercise and fresh fruit. 

But that’s not what Jesus was talking about in the Gospel. 
He’s talking about going all in.

Only when we really put something on the line, do we really know him. 
Not know about him, but knowing him. That changes everything.

Here’s the really good news: you and I don’t have to search. 
We know where the treasure is. Jesus is right here, in our Faith, 
in our Scriptures, in the Sacraments, in the Holy Eucharist; 
he is as close as our own hearts.*

This Friday evening, we have a special opportunity to draw close to him. 
Every First Friday, we have Mass at 7 pm, and after that, 
we have adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. 
We have a group of folks who are keeping vigil, all night, 
until Mass on Saturday morning. 

That means the church will be open all night, 
and anyone can come and pray. 
We have been doing this for several months, 
and the focus is to draw close to the two hearts: 
that is, the heart of Mary, and the heart of Jesus. 

Mary conceived Jesus in her heart by faith, 
and then in her womb by the Holy Spirit. 
Mary’s heart is like that field: 
the treasure of Jesus’ heart is hidden there for us to discover.

As I say, we do this every month on the First Friday. 
Yes, this is the Traditional Latin Mass, 
so that will be unfamiliar to some. 
But we have booklets you can use to follow along.
And after all, what did we just say: that seeking Christ takes effort; 
we don’t discover the pearl of great price easily.

This First Friday we will have something special: 
a statue of our Lady of Fatima, blessed by Pope Francis, 
one of several traveling the world, 
as a focal point of devotion and prayer. 

We will honor Mary in a special way on Friday evening – 
you can see the details in the bulletin – 
and we will renew the consecration of this parish to our Lady, 
which I know Father Amberger made some years ago.

Now, there are a lot of ways to look at this. 
It’s First Friday and First Saturday, 
and there are devotions and indulgences associated with that, 
as promised by the Lord to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque 
and promised by Mary to the children at Fatima. 

In addition, this is the 100th year since Mary visited Fatima, 
and through her visit, God set great things in motion. 
While the end of the Cold War was a tremendous confirmation 
of what Mary told us at Fatima, there is a sense that there’s more. 

We don’t know just what, but we can plainly see 
there are forces at work in our world that are anti-Christ 
and anti-Church, and we know what Mary said: 
in the end, her Immaculate Heart will triumph. 

Mary is the one chosen by heaven to bring the Messiah. 
And today is a good time to remember what Mary said at Fatima: 
"If men knew what eternity is, 
they would do everything to change their lives." 
To give everything – to have the Pearl of Great Price.

So this year seems like a powerful time to turn to Mary, 
and ask her to help us turn back to her Son.

But in the end, it’s all about the treasure 
that Mary doesn’t hide from us, but rather, holds out to us constantly: 
her Son, our brother and our Savior and Lord. 
He is what we long for, and what is worth giving up everything to have.

* Update: the words in a different color were added at Mass.

Crux (with KofC dollars) pretends not to know what a woman is

Here's the headline at Crux (paid for by the Knights of Columbus, of which I am a proud 4th degree member):

Nun ministering to transgender women 
gets thumbs-up from Pope

There's just one problem: the individuals the nun is assisting are not women.

OK, so maybe don't focus on the headline; headlines have to be brief. So let's look at the body of the article. Surely at some point, this publication will explain that "trangender woman" means a man who believes himself to be a woman, and presents himself to the world as such.

No -- in fact, neither the world "men" or "male" ever appears in the article. But women appears a lot.

Just to be crystal clear: the issue isn't the nun, or the pope. (Indeed, the pope, with somewhat convoluted language, actually makes a little clearer what Crux cannot bring itself to clarify.) I'm not objecting to the nun helping these individuals; she seems to be doing wonderful things.

And, this doesn't have to be handled in a heavy-handed way. Here's what you do:

- Put "transgender women" in quotes whenever used. And use that term sparingly.

- Explain early on what this term means, perhaps as I did, above.

- If you don't want to refer to these individuals as males or men in subsequent references (admittedly, it can be confusing or cumbersome), then refer to them as "individuals" or "people" or "the group" or "the participants in the program."

Look: I understand that our society is marching along in this fools' parade, embracing a lie about basic biology, because that's what compassion supposedly requires. But tell me why a Catholic publication needs to go along with that? Why do the Knights of Columbus need to pay for it?

To put it another way: if Catholics start participating in the lie, what hope does truth have?

The wheat and the weeds: two ways to understand the parable (Sunday homily)

There are two ways to take this Gospel passage: 
as it applies to each of us personally, 
and as it applies to society as a whole. 

Let’s start with the personal sense, 
which is to see the field as our own lives. 
And you and I, by our choices, sow either good seed or bad, 
so that we struggle to see whether the field of our soul 
will be full of virtue, 
or will it be crowded out with the weeds of vice and sin.

I was reading a book by Father Basil Maturin, 
an Irish priest from a century ago, who talks about this parable. 
It was he who saw the field as our own lives. 

Father Maturin asked, “How often, as we look into our souls, 
and wonder at the evil we find there, do we not ask ourselves” 
where do these tares – these weeds – come from? 
Where do our sinful habits and the trials that go with them, 
come from? 

You and I struggle with laziness, with wrath, with lust, with greed, 
and it seems as though these sins crowd out virtue in our lives. 
And the answer is, “An enemy has done this.”

Now, the point is not that the devil makes us do it. 
No matter what anyone says or thinks, 
no matter what you see in movies, 
the devil cannot make anyone choose evil. 

The enemy makes suggestions, even very alluring suggestions – 
but you and I make the choice, and the evil seed is sown in our lives. 
So there seems an obvious point to be made: 
that you and I cannot be too careful about what evil 
we allow the enemy to sow in our lives. 

It doesn’t take much time given to the Internet, 
going to dark places, to allow a foul habit to take deep root. 

There are folks who think this isn’t any big deal. 
Let me tell you: there is a growing number of people – 
more men than women, but women too – 
who are finding it harder and harder to have a healthy relationship with the opposite sex 
because of pornography. 
It is damaging marriages and contributing to divorce. 

So it’s vital to guard our eyes against what is degrading; 
our ears from gossip and poisonous words of envy; 
our heart from envy and wrath; our stomach from gluttony.

Of course, a lot of us would say, too late! 
These weeds are already in my life! 
We are frustrated to face these same weeds, 
week after week throughout our lives. 
Why doesn’t the Lord simply tear them out, when we beg him to do so?

Sometimes it happens: we have a moment of conversion 
and we receive the grace to completely overcome that bad habit; 
the weeds are, indeed, ripped out. But guess what often happens? 
The person who, with great effort, overcomes a bad habit, 
only to slowly slide back into it. 

As much as we hate it, for virtue to grow in our lives, 
you and I often need this struggle; 
just as it takes hard, physical labor to build our lungs and our muscles.

When you find it discouraging to go to confession, again, and again,
with the same sin – realize, that is exactly the medicine you need. 
It is the enemy who says, you can’t fight the weeds, 
just let them grow.

Now, there is a more familiar way to take this passage. 
That is to see the field as the world, 
and some people are wheat, to be gathered into heaven, 
and some are weeds, who do evil and face the fire of hell.

No doubt you have had a similar reaction as I have. 
We will be confronted with some terrible evil, 
or people who seem devoted to evil, and we wonder: 
why, God, do you allow it to go on? 

And one answer comes from the first reading: 
God is very patient, way more patient than we are. 
God has plans for quite a lot of the weeds to become wheat. 

And that patience isn’t just for others – it is for you and me as well. 
If we are honest, at any given moment, which are we? 
You and I want to be wheat, 
but we like being with the weeds a lot more than we care to admit. 

We know God’s great harvest is coming someday; 
we just hope it doesn’t happen 
before we get to church and get in line for confession!

And that is exactly how to get out of the weeds and back to the wheat: 
and the more frequently we get to confession, the better.

Since we know that our Lord desires to turn weeds into wheat, 
then we know that he wants us to help in that mission. 
And we do that best by letting people see virtue in our own lives; 
when they see that we strive to be people of virtue, 
our example gives them courage.

In a few minutes, you and I will be given the gift God’s Wheat, 
the very Body and Blood of our Lord. 
Jesus gives himself to us, day by day, week by week, 
so that you and I can become what we receive. 
Not without struggle, but with abundant grace 
and far more patience than we can tolerate, 
he will make us what he wants us to be.

Spadaro, ISIS and the Knights of Columbus

You have probably heard about this article by Jesuit Father Antonio Spadaro, editor-in-chief of the influential Rome-based Jesuit publication La Civiltà Cattolica, and Marcelo Figueroa, the editor-in-chief of the Argentinean edition of the Vatican newspaper L’Osservatore Romano. Father John Zuhlsdorf has done a great job aggregating lots of critical commentary, which his most recent item here. Scroll down his page for more items.

One one side you have "progressives," led by the National "Catholic" Reporter, applauding this "blockbuster" attack on American Catholics (that is to say, those the writers deem the wrong sort); on the other side, you have a pretty wide range of voices, the most prominent being Philadelphia Archbishop Charles Chaput, pointing out the profound problems with the article. Sad to see Mark Shea jumping on the progressive bandwagon, but all the rest are what you would expect.

Here's an item in Crux -- funded by the Knights of Columbus -- that compares two points of view. But here's just one quote from Austen Ivereigh, who used to be the editor of the Tablet -- the UK version of the N"C"R. After he admits the many errors of the article, here's what he identifies as the heart of it's analysis of how the wrong-sort Catholics in the U.S. see the world:

"Frankly, it’s a narrative that’s very close to that of ISIS."

Get that? When you and I seek to oppose the secular push to remake society, to impose a new vision of human nature (which is what the redefinition of marriage and "gender theory" is all about), we are "very close to...ISIS" -- ISIS being those folks who throw gay people off the tops of buildings and give 30 lashes to schoolboys for playing soccer and sell girls into slavery.

Oh, and let me say something to my brother Knights of Columbus. Figueroa and Spadaro were pretty clumsy in their screed, but they were clever enough to avoid two targets that would have blown the whole thing. One of them is Ronald Reagan, as Fr. Z points out in the link above. The other is you, Knights of Columbus. The authors know it would be suicide to attack you directly, and by name. Why? Because the Knights of Columbus' prosperity and success generates a lot of money that pays the bills in Rome. A LOT of money.

But make no mistake, they are including you, brother Knights, in this smear. The authors attack those who seek to bring Catholic teaching into public policy, particularly regarding ending abortion and opposing the redefinition of marriage. The authors warn ominously about patriotism that talks too much about God, rolling their eyes, for example, at the national motto, "In God We Trust."

They are hitting the Knights of Columbus, but they don't dare come out and say so. Read the article and tell me you don't agree.

Update: I fixed one of the links, and corrected the name of the former Tablet editor.

Something new for dinner...

Tonight I have some seminarians coming for dinner. It started with one seminarian from a former parish, calling to invite me to dinner, and I persuaded him to let me be his host instead; when he's a priest, he can take me to dinner. Until then, he belongs to, and benefits from, the "Feed-a-seminarian" program.

I invited the two seminarians from this parish to join me -- one could not -- and then another seminarian sent me an email about something else, and I invited him as well.

So, what to cook?

I looked through some recipes I'd saved from Facebook, and found this one. So on Monday, I got what I needed at the store, and a bit ago, I started on it.

First I whipped up the marinade:

I was going to show more pictures of me pouring things in, but I had trouble with the camera on my tablet. It helps if you mash the correct button! I did substitute some garlic paste I already had, for the grated garlic called for. (FYI -- if you click on the video at the link, it will take you to the recipe.) I also goofed and used table salt instead of kosher salt. Oh well.

After mixing up the marinade, I sliced and pounded out the flank steak:

When I was doing it, I got the sinking feeling I'd done it wrong; but now that I see the video, it looks pretty much the same. So next, the meat and marinade go in a big, plastic bag:

I squished it first to get almost all the air out, and then to distribute the marinade; then it went into the fridge. After that?

 First round of dishes. Always clean as you go, if you can.

Now to make the Herb sauce...

Whoops! Not yet. When I came back to the kitchen, I saw the potatoes all washed and ready to go, so I decided to finish preparing them. I worked from this recipe, but modified it a little; I threw in some garlic and red pepper, just because. Here are the cut up potatoes, which I'll spread out on a baking pan after Mass.

 Then I worked on the herb sauce, but I am rushing a bit, so I didn't take any pictures. It's all ready, too. Now I wait for the meat to continue marinading, and then I'll prepare it, before I head over to church for Mass. My plan is to have everything ready to throw in the oven, or on the grill, as soon as I get back from Mass.

So what's left? I have some squash I'm going to saute with some olive oil, salt and pepper; I'll cut that up before Mass if I have time, otherwise I can do that while everything else is cooking.

(Time lapse while I work at my desk...imagine theme from "Jeopardy"...)

OK, now it's 5:40 pm, so I have a few minutes to add a little before Mass...

I just got the flank steak mopped up, layered out, rolled and tied up, thus:

It's a little messier than I wanted; the meat tore a little when I pounded it out, so we'll see what happens when I grill it. For the time being, I covered it with foil and shoved it into the fridge. Right after Mass we'll cook it all up, plus the squash, still to cut up and saute. Check back for more pictures (maybe)!

Update, next day...

Sorry, no pictures. When everything was ready, there was no time to fool around with the camera. But everything turned out pretty well. I left the roast on the grill a few minutes too long, but it was pretty tasty. If I do this next time, I'll marinate it longer. The potatoes were done a little early, so they ended up a little crispy, but still good. The zucchini and squash was just right. We had some leftover wine. And, if any of this seems too pricey, I'll just point out that this was flank steak (a cheap cut), potatoes (cheap), zucchini and squash were donated. The wine was probably about $14, and I paid for that. The one real extravagance was the cheesecake, but that'll last several days. I did buy too much basil and parsley; the basil I'll use later this week, as I plan to make some sauce. The leftover parsley will probably go to waste -- it cost 50 cents a bunch.

One seminarian didn't make it for dinner; he was baling hay with his family until about 10 pm.

Mysterious lights and shadows in the sky!

Father John Zuhlsdorf finds the coolest stuff...

Vatican says what 'bread' and 'wine' mean for communion; liberal heads explode

I hate to admit this, but I regularly visit the website of the so-called National Catholic Reporter (perhaps better titled, National Schismatic Reporter, or National "Catholic" Distorter--you get the idea). If it's so bad, why do I read it? Well, two reasons: first, because as bad as it is, it does actually "report" some stories; two, because it's helpful to get different perspectives. And, I confess, for a third reason: sometimes the progressives' unconscious self-parody is hilarious -- if not in the actual articles, then certainly in the comments.

So, today, I read an item there about the Vatican reiterating what has been true for as long as anyone knows: the bread and wine for Holy Communion must be, respectively, wheat bread and grape wine, with nothing added. Mindful that some people have health issues with gluten, and others with alcohol in wine, the document spells out that it is legitimate to use bread with extremely low levels of gluten -- but not without gluten; and similarly, something called mustum, which is wine in which fermentation has begun, but then immediately stopped, so as to yield an infinitesimal alcoholic content. But, the Vatican insists, if no alcohol, it's not wine; grape juice is not wine; and wine made from other than grapes is not the wine Jesus used, so that's a no-go as well. Similarly, if no gluten, it's not wheat bread; and if it's made from other than wheat, it's not the bread Jesus used, so no-go again.

And to be very clear: that means not only is it naughty; it means, it is invalid matter for the sacrament, meaning no sacrament at all. If at Mass tonight (I would never do this!) I brought over a loaf of, say, cornbread, and a bottle of elderberry wine, my praying the Eucharistic prayer would have no effect; there would be no transubstantiation, no sacrament, no Mass. Which is why I wouldn't do it, and if I did, I most likely would never have a chance to do it again.

Here are some choice comments from the N"C"R item (there are nearly 200 comments -- that itself is sadly comical):

Frankly, I am fed up with the insistence that gluten is a required element, but the health and well being of the recipients is irrelevant. These men are not medical experts. Do I actually need to explain the non sequitur here?

...its authentic spiritual validity has nothing to do with its ingredients. It minimalizes the Eucharist by focusing on its earthly matter rather than on what matters.

It never ceases to amaze. These men in the Vatican seem to have no clue whatsoever as to the meaning of the eucharist - of Jesus' meaning when he asked his followers to remember him in this particular way. One hopes that someday at least a few of them will make the breakthrough and begin to understand Jesus' message.

If Jesus had come to 21st century US, He probably would have consecrated pizza and coke. In 1st century Palestine He used the familiar items at hand. I defy anyone to tell me that God does not accept gluten-free hosts as the Body (and Blood) of His Son. It is the faith of His children which confirms the Sacred Mystery, not the grain content of the materials (Emphasis added.)  And...that's Calvinism!

As you are male, you never had to wear a Kleenex on your head in church when you forgot your beret/beanie/hat/scarf!  NB: this tells you what all the caterwauling is really about.

OK, that's enough to give you a sense of things. Along the way, one commenter, without intending to, actually explained quite well why the Church does this:

The Last Supper was a Passover meal, which required the use of unleavened wheat bread.

And, of course, wine made from grapes. And that's all this is about: determining some definition for what counts as "bread" and "wine."

What fascinates me is the "it doesn't matter" argument some used: in effect, who cares what is used for the Mass; why not "pizza and coke"? But then I have to ask: why does the Eucharist matter...at all? If the Eucharist can be anything, then it doesn't actually have to be...anything--right? It can be water; it can be air. If definitions are exclusionary and "scrupulosity," then of course, we must get rid of definitions.

Yeah, it makes my head hurt too.

Three lessons from a friend's sudden death

Every few weeks, I get an email from the Archdiocese regarding the death of a priest. Because I know of many elderly priests facing difficulties, such emails, while sad, are not surprising. But I was positively shocked to get one with the name of Father Chris Coleman, my friend who was in the seminary with me, and who was ordained in 2006. The last time I talked to him, a few weeks ago, we had vague plans to get together for dinner. He was 50.

The news reports indicate that he had just finished a round of golf on Sunday afternoon -- it was a beautiful day! -- and he was riding in a car with someone else driving. The driver lost control of the car, it flipped over, and Father Coleman died of the injuries. I don't know anything more about the circumstances, and nothing about what follows is in any way a hint or suggestion about what I think those circumstances are.

Yesterday afternoon I was out driving myself, after learning this terrible news, and three lessons in particular came to the fore:

1. Driving is serious business: respect it.

Nothing defines freedom quite like having a driver's license and a car. We all know older friends or family members who have had to give up driving, and it's a very difficult thing to do. I can remember when I first began driving, and I was a nervous wreck. My first few years driving, I wasn't that great a driver: I had several speeding tickets and few fender-benders; thankfully, nothing too serious. In my more mature years, I have managed to leave all that behind.

So it's easy to get to become blase about driving, forgetting that we are behind the wheels of something weighing close to a ton, capable of being propelled at speeds well over 100 miles per hour. In my lifetime, this casualness has been abetted by a succession of safety measures and conveniences. When I learned to drive in 1978, the car didn't have power steering or power brakes; it was an automatic transmission, but this was still deemed an upgrade from "standard" (i.e., clutch) transmission. Only in 1968 were seat belts mandated for cars, and I can remember riding in cars that didn't have them. Airbags seem like an "only yesterday" sort of thing; and there are many other ways cars are so much safer than they used to be. Injuries and deaths from car accidents were far more common in the past than today. It is very easy today to think of the car practically driving itself (and that's not science fiction anymore), and to allow bad habits to creep in.

Just because bad things don't happen most of the time, doesn't mean they won't happen to you. There used to be a thing called "defensive driving." If you don't know what it is, look it up: it can save your life. The techniques I'm talking about, I learned in driver's ed almost 40 years ago; and while I confess I don't always follow them, I know I'm stupid not to. Things like keeping alert behind the wheel, all the time, keeping an assured distance between your vehicle and whoever is in front of you, and paying attention to what's going on further down the road. Common sense stuff.

Driving is awesome, in all senses. Take it seriously.

2. Driving and alcohol don't mix. It's no secret that in this rural part of Ohio, drinking is a favorite pastime, even for many in their teenage years. A lot of adults wink at it. It's how a lot of folks spend their weekends.

I might point out that getting drunk is a mortal sin, because you are doing serious damage to your ability to make right judgments. To put it simply, drinking causes bad decisions to cascade; and it makes it a lot more likely you'll end up in a situation you may regret the rest of your life, or even seeing your life dramatically altered...or simply ended.

Also, realize that the legal limit for alcohol if you are driving is .08% blood alcohol, which is notably below what it takes, for many (if not most) people, to be "drunk." That is to say, you stop being legally qualified to drive a car well before you sense that you are snockered. Just because you know people who drove "buzzed" or drunk, and came out OK, doesn't confer any magic on you. Only a few months ago, a young man died along Versailles Road one night after drinking too much, and driving.

3. Death can come anytime for anyone. Be ready. Although airplane travel is far safer than driving, there is something about take-off and landing to focus the mind, at least for me. I have been on a plane when I knew I needed to go to confession, and made the most heartfelt act of contrition when it started shaking a bit from turbulence. On the other hand, there is nothing like the feeling of being absolved and being in a state of grace.

Dreadful hope (Sunday homily)

Stop and think a moment about what we just heard in the Gospel. 
Think about what Jesus said, especially in light of who he is.

He is God in human flesh. The Creator of all things. 
The Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.

And how did an all-powerful, all-seeing, 
all-knowing God describe himself?

“I am meek and humble of heart.”

“I am meet and humble of heart.”

The first and most basic of the seven deadly sins is pride. 
I can do this. I don’t need your help. I know what I’m doing. 
I need to be the one to fix this. It’s all on me!

Pride. We all have it, and I fear for myself, 
because I think see in myself only a small fraction of all that there is.
Arrogance. Self-sufficiency.

The other day the toilet in the church bathroom was clogged. 
Lucky me, I happened upon it! 
And my thought was, ew! why should I have to deal with this? 
Then I said to myself, “Seriously? Why not me?”

Especially when I think of all the messes 
my parents cleaned up for me – 
and all the filth we ask God to clean up.

“I am meek and humble of heart,” Jesus said. 
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me.”

If there is any hope for you, for me – any hope at all – 
it is that we must give up our pride, our self-sufficiency, 
and learn from him. 

Maybe a start will be to ask: 
help me, Lord, to see my pride, and to confess it, and to repent of it. 
Help me to be meek and humble of heart.

I am certain he will answer that prayer. 
And I suspect it will come in ways often unpleasant. 

Bishop Joe Binzer one time said this, to a group of priests, 
about those people we sometimes meet who give them terrible fits. 
He said, be grateful, because they are helping you to grow in holiness! 

I dread the thought of what price I might have to pay 
to become truly meek and humble of heart; 
but I am filled with horror at the alternative, 
and I beg Jesus in his mercy, to save me:
to make me meek and humble, like him.

Starting Liturgy of the Hours in the parish

Last week, after some planning, we began praying the Liturgy of the Hours -- aka, the Divine Office or the Breviary. I lead it at 7:30 am, which means we end before the Rosary, which usually starts about 7:45 am; Mass is at 8:15 am (that is, excepting Wednesday when it's at 6:15 pm).

Some of the planning involved deciding what books to order; I got the slender, "Shorter Christian Prayer," which will be the easiest to use, most of the time; but it has only the major feast days, omitting most saints' days. There are a few times when it will be a little clunky, as was the case on the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul. We didn't have the proper readings or antiphons which are recited before the psalms, but we made the best of it.

After a week, how is it going? Not bad. We have about four or five people taking part, which is what I expected. And, as expected, it's a little confusing, but we're making it work. I'm explaining things along the way.

So what is the ‘Liturgy of the Hours’? As the name implies, it is liturgical prayer; meaning, it is the corporate prayer of the whole Church; and it is about sanctifying time – so it is customarily prayed at different hours of the day. Like the Mass, the Liturgy of the Hours – also known as the Breviary or the Daily Office – is filled with Scripture; mostly psalms, as a matter of fact.

While there are many forms of prayer, all Christian prayer can be sorted into two categories: “public” and “private.”

Examples of public prayer are all liturgical: Holy Mass, Exposition of the Eucharist, the celebration of sacraments, and the Liturgy of the Hours. They are “public” in this sense: that when a sacred minister – i.e., a bishop, priest or deacon – leads these prayers, the whole Church is praying, even if it’s only happening in Russia, Ohio. When I take a day of rest, and when I go on vacation, I will offer Mass on my own, usually with no one else present. And yet, the whole Church, in a sense, offers that Mass, because Christ himself offers it, through the priest.

This explains why a priest is not free to modify parts of the Mass (or any other liturgical prayer), beyond the options provided. No Mass, offered by me, ever “belongs” to me. Nor does it belong to the people attending it; that’s why if people ask me, “Oh, can’t you do such-and-such on this special occasion?” My answer is the same: I am not free to change the Mass to suit me, or you, or anyone.

The term “private” prayer applies both to traditional devotions, such as the Rosary, as well as spontaneous prayers, either alone or in groups. This doesn’t make them less meaningful, nor does it mean they aren’t powerful; it means they don’t represent an action of the Church as a whole in the way liturgical prayer is.

The heart of the Divine Office is Scripture – specifically, the psalms. And, although we will mostly recite this prayer, it (like the Mass) is meant to be sung. The psalms are the “hymnbook” of the Bible – they were used in the Temple of the Old Covenant, or when people made pilgrimages to the temple. In fact, the first verse of many psalms contains directions on how the psalms were to be sung. For example, Psalm 4 begins: “For the leader; with stringed instruments”; Psalm 5 refers to “wind instruments”; and some refer to melodies which are lost to us.

There are different accounts of how the Liturgy of the Hours/Divine Office originated; but there is no doubt that just as the early Church gathered to pray the Holy Mass, it also prayed the psalms daily. After all, the early Church was heavily Jewish. Just as Jews, then and now, will pray at different times of day, so the Divine Office does the same. Over the centuries, the Divine Office came to be seen as primarily a prayer for bishops and priests, and was chanted by them in the larger churches, or in monasteries. From time to time it has been modified, most recently at the same time that the Mass was reformed in the 1970s. In recent years, there has been a renewed effort to involve laity in the Liturgy of the Hours again. When I was ordained, I promised to offer this prayer every day, with the people if possible, but for the people in any case. So...that's what I'm trying to do.

'Who is a prophet, and what do they do?' (Sunday homily)

Prophet Elisha, striking the River Jordan (2 Kings 2:14)

The readings raise a question about prophets.
In the first reading, we have the Prophet Elisha. 
And in the Gospel, our Lord Jesus promises that 
“whoever receives a prophet, receives a prophet’s reward.”

So the question we might consider: 
Who is a prophet, and what do they do?

Let’s start with what a prophet does. 
Contrary to what many people think, 
in the Bible, prophecy is not primarily about predicting the future.
Sometimes that is what prophets do, but not necessarily, 
and most of the time, that is not actually what they do.

The essence of a prophet is that he or she is sent to speak for God; 
to speak God’s Word. 
That is what a prophet is: the one who says, “Thus sayeth the Lord.”

In the Bible, prophets were often anointed, like kings and priests. 
And in any case, they were understood to be “anointed” 
by the Spirit of God.

All the prophets of the Old Testament, however, 
were ultimately pointers toward the final and definitive prophet, 
and that is Jesus Christ. 

In the letter to the Hebrews, it says
“In times past, God spoke in partial and various ways 
to our ancestors through the prophets” – 
but “in these last days, he spoke to us through a son.” 
Jesus, in who he is, what he says and does, 
is God’s complete and final word to humanity.

There are other religions that claim to add to what Jesus gave us. 
Mormonism claims that, and so does Islam. 
But our answer as Christians is, no, 
all that God is going to reveal to humanity, has been revealed.

So when people have visions of saints or of Mary, 
these are called “private revelation” – meaning, they don’t add anything. 
That doesn’t mean they aren’t true or worthwhile, 
but for example when Mary spoke at Fatima or Lourdes, 
she added nothing to what we already had 
from Jesus and the Apostles and the Bible.

So are there still prophets? Why does Jesus talk about them?

That brings us to what St. Paul was talking about in the second reading; 
that is, the sacrament of baptism. 

A lot of people way misunderstand what baptism really is.
They think it’s just a special sort of blessing or ritual. 
Baptism is way, way, way more than that.

In baptism, we become part of Christ, and therefore, 
we share in his office of priest, prophet, and king.
The Church is the Body of Christ;
the designated leaders of the Church, the pope and bishops, 
have the authority to teach in Jesus’ name.

But each one of us belongs to Christ, 
so each of us has a prophetic role: 
that is, to speak God’s Word and make it known.
But there’s more. This isn’t just a hat we wear on Sundays.
You and I became entirely new people in baptism. 
We were born again, as Jesus told Nicodemus.

As we just heard Paul say: 
do you not realize that when you were baptized, you died? 
You died with Christ! That means several things. 
It means that we are dying to sin and to the sinful ways of the world.
It means we are embracing Jesus’ death, 
in order to gain access to the Resurrection. 
It means we are taking up the Cross and embracing it.

This is a time to talk about something 
that happens in different ways for all of us, including me.
At some point, everyone will say, 
“God, what you’re asking of me is too hard.” And it is hard.

So God asks people to wait until marriage, 
and to remain open to the gift of life in marriage – 
meaning, no contraception.
God asks people to persevere in marriage – no remarriage.
God asks men and women who, 
because their feelings go a different way, 
to remain chaste as single people, 
if they can’t marry the opposite sex.

Yes, that’s only one of the Commandments, the Sixth.
But these particular truths are ones that, today, our Catholic Church, 
almost alone, proclaims before an incredulous world that says, 
along with many incredulous Christians who likewise say:

Where does this come from? What kind of God asks this of us?

And the answer is in today’s Gospel. The One who said:
If you want to be my disciple, take up your Cross and come with me. 
And when he said “Cross,” he didn’t mean an item of jewelry.

I don’t mean to minimize the trials and challenges. They are real.
But I am saying this to anyone who claims it can’t be true 
because it’s too hard: I don’t know what Christianity, 
what Jesus Christ, you have in mind, 
but it’s not the Jesus of the Gospels.
He never said, follow me, so long as it isn’t too demanding.
Follow me, as long as it doesn’t interfere too much.

And yet, isn’t this supposed to be Good News. 
This sounds like gloom and doom. 
Well, it is Good News, because of what else Jesus just told us:
Whoever tries to save his life will lose it,
and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

So back to the question I posed at the beginning: Who is a prophet, and what do they do?
 
You and I are prophets, and what we do is face a choice for ourselves,
which we also present to the world:
Live for yourself, and in the end, that’s all you’ll have.
Live for Christ, live for others, and you will have your sins forgiven, 
a new life, both here and hereafter in the glory of heaven.

You have heard me talk about being intentional disciples, real disciples, 
and helping others to become committed disciples of Christ. 
And you’re going to keep hearing me talk about it.

That’s what this is. 
You and I were baptized into a new life, the life of the Holy Trinity. 
We were enlisted as Cross-bearers, 
marching through this life with Heaven’s Glory reflected in our gaze. 
We fall down, we get back up. 
We get insults or bruises along the way, we give a blessing and keep going.

This is what we signed up for. 
This is what it means to be a follower of Christ.

Being a priest isn't always easy or fun, but it's always awesome

I wrote this for the parish bulletin on the occasion of the priestly ordinations in May. I meant to share it here sooner. I edited out some parish information that doesn't need to be here.

By the time you read this, Archbishop Dennis Schnurr will have ordained three new priests for the Archdiocese: Rev. David Doseck, Rev. Peter Langenkamp, and Rev. Alex Witt. I’m writing this ahead of time; I plan to be at the Ordination Mass myself. These are fine men becoming priests.

Although I can’t always do it, I try to attend the priestly ordination Mass every year. It’s getting harder to find priests who can cover my obligations here, so that I can attend, which is a reminder that we need more priests. And, while these three are fine men, we really need to be ordaining 10-15 a year in order to turn things around. At this point, we’re keeping things steady, but not improving.

Last week, I had two interesting questions about the priesthood. The first came when I was teaching the first-graders about some of the things we do at Mass; one child asked, “is it fun being a priest?” The short answer is, lots of things are “fun,” but I also explained that some of the best things about being a priest aren’t “fun” but certainly powerful and rewarding: visiting people who are sick, counseling people in trouble, and helping people come back to Christ.

On Tuesday evening, I was with some men of the parish, and they asked what is “hardest” about being a priest. We talked about several things, but what stood out to me – and which I tried to stress – was that what is most difficult isn’t what people imagine. One time I had to anoint a woman while on the operating table, with open-heart surgery. Another time, I was asked to pray over a man who’d died, and who wasn’t found for several days. Several times, I’ve been with people experiencing the most devastating losses. Were these difficult? Sure; but they were also moments when I really felt God’s grace helping me do things I could never have done otherwise; and in those moments, Jesus really made himself present to people. These are moments when I really feel most like a priest.

Being a priest isn’t easy, and anyone who wants an easy life has no business becoming a priest. But it’s a wonderful life, full of challenges and grace and miracles and above all, full of Jesus Christ, who I get to walk with and accompany as he does his work in the world.

Do babies 'participate' in the liturgy? (Getting 'Active Participation' Right)

Last week, I was present with most priests of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati for a three-day convocation, which is held every five years. The idea is that we will discuss some topic that is pertinent to the life of the Church or to our ministry as priests. Some of these convocations have focused on parish management or on dealing with a shortage of priests; some have been of a more theological focus, as was the case last week: our topic was the seven sacraments. Our speaker was Father Paul Turner, who is a priest of the Diocese of Kansas City-St. Joseph, Missouri. If you click on his name, you'll see his qualifications, as well as have access to his writings on his website.

After I returned to the parish, folks asked me how the session was. I have to be honest: while catching up my brother priests, and having Mass and prayer with them, with Archbishop Dennis Schnurr and Bishop Joseph Binzer, were all very worthwhile, I was disappointed with the discussion of the sacraments.

Let me illustrate the problem by drilling into one of the issues that came up in several of the talks, as well as in the questions Father Turner fielded from those listening. It is the question of "active participation" in the liturgy. At one point, Father Turner was asked -- what about what Pope Benedict said, that "active participation" is essentially internal? In his response, Father Turner acknowledged the interior dimension, but said something along the lines of, he didn't see how you could have one without the other.

Not a terrible answer, but I think he was still missing the point.

This is a subject much discussed by experts in matters liturgical, and the term has certainly penetrated the awareness of many ordinary Catholics. The reason is because one of the documents of the Second Vatican Council (1963-65), the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum Concilium), said this on the subject:

Mother Church earnestly desires that all the faithful should be led to that fully conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the very nature of the liturgy. Such participation by the Christian people as "a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a redeemed people (1 Pet. 2:9; cf. 2:4-5), is their right and duty by reason of their baptism.

In the restoration and promotion of the sacred liturgy, this full and active participation by all the people is the aim to be considered before all else; for it is the primary and indispensable source from which the faithful are to derive the true Christian spirit; and therefore pastors of souls must zealously strive to achieve it, by means of the necessary instruction, in all their pastoral work (Paragraph 14).

Indeed, if you click on the excerpted text above, you can go read the entirety of Sacrosanctum Concilium; and you will discover emphasis on "participation," frequently "active," in many places.

In the years immediately following the Council, there was a tremendous focus on this idea, to the point that it became a kind of "mantra" for a whole generation of clergy and laity whose understanding of the liturgy and the sacraments was formed in this period. Even 30 years later, when I entered the seminary, this was a point being pounded very strongly.

But there is an obvious question: what, exactly, is "fully conscious and active participation"? To state it differently, is it essentially external or internal?

In the years right after the Council, the great focus was on externals. Indeed, some of the language of the Council encouraged this:

To promote active participation, the people should be encouraged to take part by means of acclamations, responses, psalmody, antiphons, and songs, as well as by actions, gestures, and bodily attitudes. And at the proper times all should observe a reverent silence (Sacrosanctum Concilium 30).

That is, lots of people focused on "acclamations," "responses" and "gestures" -- but notice what else was highlighted: "reverent silence."

Others have delved deeply into this subject; you can do an Internet search and find lots to read if you wish. One notable contribution came from Pope Benedict XVI, who gave emphasis in Sacramentum Caritatis to "constant conversion," "inner disposition," and a "heart reconciled to God [that] makes genuine participation possible" (paragraph 55).

So why am I dissatisfied with Father Turner's answer? It's not that I disagree, exactly, so much as that I think he does not seem to get the problem with the emphasis on external participation. Let me illustrate with some real life examples:

- Several years ago, in another parish, I had a catechist propose some ideas for increasing the "active participation" of her students in Mass. Specifically, she wanted them write the words of the responsorial psalm on individual cards -- and then have students stand in front of church, and while the psalm was sung, they would hold up the placards for the assembly. I wasn't enamored of this idea, but I wanted to approach it diplomatically, so I approached the catechist with this question: "what is the concern or need you are trying to address with this idea?" Guess what she said? "So they participate more." My followup: "do you think the children in your class are praying during Mass?" She thought about it, and said, "yes." My response to her was, "that's the participation we most want."

- In my first parish assignment as a priest, the pastor gave me the task of arranging some training sessions with our volunteers who assist at Mass in various liturgical roles; we were going to be implementing some changes asked for by the Archbishop. One change in particular was as follows: instead of the extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion coming to the altar and taking chalices with the Precious Blood off the altar themselves, they would, instead, have the chalices presented to them by a priest or deacon. At one of these sessions where I explained this change and its rationale, one volunteer huffed: "this takes away from my active participation!"

- Over the years, I've read any number of articles in the National Catholic Reporter, discussing matters liturgical. And whether the question was the priest facing the same way as the people when he offers the sacrifice at the altar, or whether it had to do with music choices, or even the church's sound system, I noticed the same refrain: if the priest isn't facing me -- or if it is the wrong sort of music -- or if someone cannot be heard in the church . . . then "I can't participate."

Surely you can see the problems here?

Is it really true that if I can't see what's happening at Mass, I can't participate? If that's true, then I guess that means visually impaired people do not participate in Mass.

Similarly, if not hearing means no participation, then no participation for those who are deaf.

If movement is necessary, that leaves out any number of people with mobility problems.

If you attend a Mass not in your own language, are you unable to participate? That has not been my experience -- why should it be anyones? Of course the language barrier created difficulties, but nothing I couldn't overcome. And that is obviously true for anyone.

Let me illustrate the flaw in this thinking with a hypothetical, which I posed to some other priests, and now pose to you: Does a babe in arms "participate" in Mass?

If you subscribe to the participation must be external theory, then the answer must be no. And guess what? Lots of people will say, about their children, that they see no reason to bring them to Mass "because they don't get anything out of it." But what about grace, I answer?

The answer is "yes." Even a newborn truly participates in the liturgy. Even a comatose person does. People participate as they are able.

Let's take it another step.

Who is the primary actor in the liturgy? Per Vatican II, the answer is Jesus Christ:

Rightly, then, the liturgy is considered as an exercise of the priestly office of Jesus Christ. In the liturgy the sanctification of the man is signified by signs perceptible to the senses, and is effected in a way which corresponds with each of these signs; in the liturgy the whole public worship is performed by the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, that is, by the Head and His members.

From this it follows that every liturgical celebration, because it is an action of Christ the priest and of His Body which is the Church, is a sacred action surpassing all others; no other action of the Church can equal its efficacy by the same title and to the same degree (paragraph 7b).

But take note of the words I bolded: it is the action of Christ in his "Head and His members." That includes everyone, even a newly baptized infant, who is, after all, a member of the Body of Christ.

Now, I'm not against encouraging people to participate in external ways; nor am I encouraging a minimalism that sets the bar at where an infant is. Rather, what I am insisting is that given the true nature of the liturgy -- as described by the Council above -- what we are talking about is first and foremost a spiritual reality; we respond to this reality, above all with our interior disposition, which is assisted by, and often manifested by, exterior dispositions.

In short, we're talking about grace. I have no idea what sort of experience the Mass is for a newborn, or for a very young child, or for that matter, for those with varying degrees of physical and mental disabilities. But I insist that there is a true and real experience of the Mass -- of the sacraments -- for them. When a baby is baptized, does anything "happen" to the baby? When a priest anoints or absolves -- or baptizes -- a comatose person, what happens? Does the recipient of these sacraments "participate"?

The answer has to be yes.

P.S. I found an article I liked, but I never found a way to work it into this article, so I'll just link it here. It drills into what the Latin text behind "active participation" actually says. The whole article is good, but I am thinking particularly of what appears at the end from Monsignor Richard Shuler.

How to be faithful, not fearful (Sunday homily)

In the first reading, Jeremiah knows people around him 
are plotting his destruction.

In the Gospel, Jesus says, “Fear no one” – only be faithful to God.

So, thinking about fear…the question that comes to mind isn’t, 
what are we afraid of? – because the answer is, of course, 
lots of things, and often for good reason – 
but instead, what do our fears keep us from?

The fear I’m talking about is not those rational judgments we make, 
such as how fast we drive, especially in bad weather, 
or those dumb things a friend tries to dare us into doing. 
That is the virtue of prudence, one of the four cardinal virtues. 

No, I’m talking about that fear that holds us back from better things. 
We might call it timidity or faint-heartedness or cowardice. 
These are vices that are opposed to another of the cardinal virtues, 
which is fortitude, or courage – 
and that virtue of fortitude is what we want and need.

If we are in a conversation, 
and we are faint-hearted about bringing up an important subject; 
or, if we simply avoid the whole conversation altogether, why is that? 
Isn’t it because we don’t want to be thought less of? 
We don’t want an uncomfortable situation? 
And when we stop and think about it, 
what holds us back is hardly anything at all. 

Jeremiah shared God’s message at the risk of his life. 
What do we risk? Being laughed at, or whispered about?

So what do our fears – our timidity – hold us back from? 
They hold us back from being saints, 
being fully faithful to Jesus Christ.

This past week, we remembered the martyrdom 
of Saints John Fisher and Thomas More, 
who both died because they were faithful 
to Christ’s teaching on the permanence of marriage, 
when the King of England demanded they go along with his desire 
to divorce his wife and marry another. 

These are especially relevant saints for our time. 
Out of all the bishops of England, John Fisher was the only one – 
the only one – who refused to submit to the king. 
All the rest caved in.

In our time, so many around us are readily, eagerly going along 
with a redefinition of marriage, 
which has been declared the law of the land. 
Two men, two women, who cares? 
It can be so hard to stand up to this, 
especially if you are called a bigot, 
as members of my family have called me, 
because I will not bend to this redefinition of marriage. 

And now the latest idea is that our identity as male or female 
is not something given by God, but something we give ourselves, 
and is changeable. 

And I tell you now: the day will come when every single person here 
will feel as lonely as Bishop Fisher and Thomas More, 
when we stand up for these truths. 
But stand up we must, because truth isn’t decided by majority vote, 
and reality is not ours to remold, as if we are God!

Pope Francis has called these theories 
about marriage and sexual identity “demonic.” 
Strong language, but he is exactly right; 
because what is under attack is not just some old rule. 
What’s under attack is the truth about what it means to be human. 

When God had finished his Creation, with the man and woman his crowning work, 
he called it all “very good.” 
When Satan saw it, he vowed to ruin it all, 
with humanity – us – his primary target. 

So notice what’s happening in our time: 
the killing of unborn children; the elimination of the handicapped; 
so-called “assisted suicide” for everyone else, 
especially the elderly and those who are discouraged; 
the poisoning of marital life with contraception; divorce – 
which I don’t want to be flippant about, but it is a problem…

And now, a denial of the realities of what it means 
to be a man and a woman. 
Do you see the whole picture? Satan is attacking humanity, 
to destroy us. 
The end goal is that we won’t even know who and what we are: 
the image of God, who he calls to union with him. 

Now, that is a hellish vision, and it’s frightening 
to see it spreading in our world. 
Nevertheless, we must obey Jesus’ words, when he says, 
Do not be afraid! 
Fear paralyzes us, and keeps us from speaking what is true, 
and living the truth boldly.

When Saint John Fisher refused to buckle, 
he was imprisoned for over a year. 
During that time, he wasn’t allowed to offer Mass, 
receive Holy Communion or go to confession. 
He grew so ill that the king sent his doctors, 
just to get him well enough so he could be executed. 

When the day came, the guard woke him, and told him: 
today you will die. 
Do you know what Bishop Fisher said? 
He asked if he could sleep another two hours! 
Does that sound like he was afraid?

You see this time and again: 
when people have lost everything, when they have nothing left to lose, 
there is a peace beyond all understanding. 

This is the reason why acts of penance, self-denial, mortification, 
not just for a few weeks in Lent, but every day, are important, 
and can help us. 

So we become detached from caring too much about stuff, or comfort, or anything else, 
but the one thing that matters, 
which is being faithful to Jesus Christ.

The world may go crazy all around us, but do not be afraid!
Jesus reigns! And he calls us to reign with him.
By his grace, may we remain faithful witnesses to him!

At the beach...

...So, no homily this weekend.

Instead, I arranged for one of the newly ordained priests to cover for me. So, he gets to explain the Holy Trinity this weekend!

As Bugs Bunny says, "ain't I a stinker?"

Renewing our part of the face of the earth (Pentecost homily)

This feast of Pentecost is the end of Easter – 
and the beginning of everything else.

Fifty days ago, we celebrated Jesus rising from the grave, 
after giving his life on the Cross for us. 
Fifty days to realize: Jesus has made me brand new!

In the sacrament of confirmation, the bishop says, 
“Be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit.” 
A “seal” is placed on a document, certifying that it is authentic.  

You and I are sealed with the Holy Spirit – 
meaning we are authentic ambassadors of Jesus Christ. 

The seal of the Holy Spirit means you and I are ready. For what? 
To do what the psalm describes: “renew the face of the earth.” 

(Last night at the Vigil Mass, the readings were different; 
we heard the story of the City and Tower of Babel.)

The City of Babel fell apart because 
their task had nothing to do with God. 
They were impressed with their mighty tower; 
yet God had to “come down” in order to see it! 
Not so impressive after all. 

So much of our world is exactly like this. 
We are building things we think are impressive, but leaving God out. 
It will all come tumbling down. 

Today, a terrible confusion is spreading in our society 
about the most basic things, such as what it means to be a human being. 

We hear about lawsuits because a boy wants to be a girl 
and the legal system and schools and everything else 
gets twisted up like a pretzel over all this. 
Just another Tower of Babel. It will all come tumbling down.

More broadly, there’s so much anger being built up. 
You see it everywhere. People bite each other’s heads off on Facebook.
If you turn on the TV, fury pours out hour upon hour. 

It will all come tumbling down.

And then what? My task, your task, 
is to be instruments of the Holy Spirit, 
“to renew the face of the earth.”

What can you and I do? 

Well, let’s start with what not to do. 
It’s easy to laugh or shake our heads. 
It’s also easy just to turn away. 

But take the “transgender” phenomenon. 
There is a lot of hurt and pain. This is real. 
So many of us are at a loss as to how to respond. 
But we can’t lie to people; we can’t pretend to call a lie the truth. 
That’s the easy way out, not the loving way.

Here’s something no one wants to talk about, 
but if you do some further reading, 
you’ll discover that when individuals 
go through this process of “transitioning” – even having operations – 
so much of the hurt remains. Many end up in a much worse place.
It’s like when people have troubles and they drink. 
At best, all that does is kick the can down the road.

So, when someone you know is in trouble, you may not know what to say. 
And if you are faithful to the truth, 
your words may not be very welcome. 

But may I suggest that the very first thing is to pray
That you will act always with love – 
meaning, putting that person’s interests first. 
One of the most important things we can do 
is to let people know that they are infinitely more important 
than any struggle or sin or weakness. 
Love sees and reaches past the differences, 
to the person God created and died on the Cross for.

This takes courage. But first it takes a realization: 
I can’t just let someone else do this. 
Look around: there clearly aren’t enough “someone elses” 
doing the things needed to renew the face of this earth. 

So it’s on me. I have to get up, and get to work, 
bringing the Holy Spirit into the situations around me. 

Let me mention another opportunity. 
Later this month, on Friday, June 23, 
we will have our second annual Men’s Prayer Walk. 
As with last year, we did this as a way for the men of the parish 
to step up and take some spiritual leadership. 

The essential tasks of men are to guard, to give and to guide. 
So with our Prayer Walk, we will, over several years, 
walk the parish boundaries, praying for the protection of our parish, 
for the needs of our parish. 

There are a lot of places in the world that need our help – 
but God didn’t send us there. He did put us right here.

So here’s how it’ll work. We’ll meet at 5:30 pm, 
in the parking lot behind my house. Men and boys of all ages welcome. 

You don’t have to be Catholic. If you can’t walk well, we’ll have rides. 
Last year, some men met us at the starting point in their electric carts. 

We’ll ride some hay wagons over to Russia-Houston Road and S.R. 48, 
and walk along Russia-Houston to Dawson Road. 
Yes, that’s over to Houston – because Houston is part of our parish, 
and therefore, part of our spiritual responsibility.

Then we’ll get a ride back to the parish for a cookout and fellowship.

The Holy Spirit is poured out to renew the face of the earth. 
God put us here, to renew this little portion of it. That’s our job.

The point of the Ascension -- of the Mass -- and of ad orientem -- is heaven (Sunday homily)

The feast of the Ascension is NOT about Jesus leaving us. Rather, it’s about where Jesus wants to take us: he goes ahead of us, to heaven. That’s where he wants us. The Ascension is about heaven; Jesus wants to take us to heaven.

So that caused me to think of a connection, between today’s feast, and the Parish Priorities I’ve been talking to you about recently. That is, the priorities I am urging us all to pursue, together, as a parish. And if you recall, the first one is cultivating devout worship.

The connection is this: our worship together is likewise about getting us to heaven.

This isn’t something everyone understands. There are a lot of folks in our society who think what going to church on Sunday is about isn’t going to heaven – because they take that for granted. So instead, whether Catholic or Protestant, lots of people think of church as about giving them a good outlook on life; maybe giving them something to think about. Above all, about making them feel good. 

I know this is true because I’ve had people tell me that. I’ve had priests tell me that. Mass should make people feel good after a long week. Mass should be uplifting and encouraging. While those are good things, none of that is the point.

Rather, the point of the Holy Mass – the point of you taking part in Mass, and the point of me offering the Mass – is to get us to heaven.

When we come to Mass, and we listen to the readings, the prayers, some of which are sung, and we hear the homily, who knows whether it’ll make you feel good or not? If God tugs at your conscience, or reminds me of things I’ve neglected, maybe we’ll feel bad, along the way to making the changes we need. 

The point of the Mass is exactly the same as the “point” of the Cross: Jesus came from heaven, to be with us, one of us, all in preparation for offering himself for us on the Cross. To die for us…why? To get us to heaven.

Each and every Mass, then, is a re-presentation of this cosmic drama: that’s why, if you listen closely to the prayers of Mass, you will hear words like sin and judgment and damnation, as well as words like forgiveness, grace, conversion and salvation. Jesus sheds his blood for all those whose souls hang in the balance – and your job, here, is to pray for them. That’s why you’re here. There’s a house on fire, and Christ is the one putting out the fire. And you are here, not to watch, but to help pass the buckets!

To make another connection: our worship together, as a parish, is central to the task of sharing Christ with our community. Yes, there are lots of great things that happen in our parish, to bring people together, to help folks in need, to make our community a better place. But we remember that the First Commandment is, “I am the Lord your God, you shall not have other gods before me.” Everything else follows from that. The point of our parish – like the point of the Mass and the point of the Ascension – is to get people to heaven. And so, when you and I offer our worship together with reverence, bringing our best, and doing it with the mind of the Church, this is the best thing we can offer to our community. We’re offering people the face of Christ – and that’s what they want to see and need to see.

This gives me a chance to explain something I’ve been doing at daily Mass. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’ve been offering the Mass on the high altar, meaning the people and I are facing the same way. Why have I been doing that?

The point to doing that is the same as the point of this feast: the focus is heaven.

Right now, I’m facing you. Why am I facing you? Because I’m speaking to you, of course. (Turning around away from people): of course, I could give the homily facing away from you – but doesn’t that seem odd? (Turning again to face the people.) Maybe some of you would prefer it that way!? But it makes sense for me to face you when I speak to you.

OK then: when I’m at the altar, am I speaking to you? Am I asking you to forgive sins, and to deliver people from hell? No, of course I’m speaking to God. So that’s the reason it makes sense for the priest and the people to face the same way, symbolizing us facing heaven, our common destination.

So, in August, when we celebrate the Feast of the Assumption, I’m going to celebrate one of the Masses on that feast day in this fashion, so you can experience it. Give it a try.

This is a good time to talk about our volunteers, who are so important to having Mass celebrated well. We rely on ushers, musicians, readers, extraordinary ministers of holy communion, and altar servers. Especially our altar servers – you make a difference. No less than the Archbishop has complimented our altar servers, and we want to keep a high standard.

But we have a problem. There are times when our altar servers can’t get here. I understand, things happen: sports, prom, homecoming – nevertheless, it is a problem when the servers don’t show up.

And I thought it might be helpful to explain why we need them to be here 15 minutes before. The first five minutes is grace time; at ten minutes, I have to get subs. Maybe I find some subs by eight or seven minutes till. Then the kids have to get their albs or cassocks on – and you may not realize this, but sometimes kids don’t get dressed quickly! So now it’s 5 or 6 minutes till; then I may have things to explain, and they have all these candles to light. So sometimes things get rushed, and they get missed. We have started Mass late sometimes. So I need your help to ensure our servers are here. I have an idealistic notion that it should be the kids’ responsibility to know when they are supposed to be here; but I’ve had parents smile and say, “Father, that’s not how it works – it’s mom who remembers.” I understand; but whichever way, I need your help on this.
Let me also say something similar about our extraordinary ministers of holy communion. Sometimes we don’t always have all here who are supposed to be here. It’s not obvious, because someone always jumps up to fill in. But that’s not fair to those folks, especially if they have children they have to leave in the pew. So if we can work on this, that would be great.

Let me come back to where I began: the point of the Ascension, the point of the Mass, is to get us to heaven. Jesus told us in the first reading, he would send power upon us – that power is at work in the Mass. Nothing any of us will do today is as important as what we do here, in the Mass.  

The four keys to being a disciple (Sunday homily)

Last week, we looked at the “Parish Priorities” 
that I am calling us, as a parish, to pursue together. 
And if you recall, the second goal is “Making more disciples.” 
Listening to the readings, that seems a good topic to explore this week.

The word “disciple” means one who is taught; 
but it’s more than what happens 
when you’re a student at RHS or college. 
You go to school, you put in your time, maybe you have homework – 
but you can’t wait till you’re finished. 
If that’s your idea of how to follow Jesus, you’re doing it wrong.

Jesus’ disciples went where he went, they lived with him. 
They weren’t with him just to learn a trade or gain a degree;
this was about a new life.

In the readings, we see his disciples in action. 
The deacon Philip is sharing Christ with people. 
But notice, he isn’t just there to tell them things; 
he shows concern for their well-being. 
People are healed through his work. 

And in the second reading, Peter tells us: 
be ready to give an answer to everyone, 
concerning the reason for your hope. 
These are the things that disciples do, 
because they are doing what Jesus did, because they were with him.

So, as I was thinking about what it means to be a disciple, 
I came up with four qualities; and to make it simple, 
they can be summed up in four words: 
Open, Turn, Time, and Teach. 
That is to say, being a disciple of Jesus 
starts with us really opening ourselves; turning toward the Lord, 
giving him time, and letting him teach us. 

“Opening ourselves”: that means more than the minimum, 
more than just checking the boxes and following the rules. 
That’s what a lot of people think being a Catholic is – 
and that’s what a lot of people want it to be. 
Tell me what I have to do: 
how many times do I have to show up at church or CCD or for meetings. 
Give me a list of dos and don’ts, and I’ll check them off. 
And if I do something wrong? I’ll go to confession; I’m good to go.

If you want to be his disciple, open yourself to Christ! 
Pope Benedict said once 
that we are often afraid to entrust ourselves entirely to God, 
because we think he will take something away 
and we will be less ourselves. 
On the contrary, Benedict said: 
when we really abandon ourselves to God’s will, 
only then do we really become fully ourselves! 

The second word is “turning”: we must turn to God. 
Jesus said, “if you want to be my disciple, 
take up your cross, and follow me.” 
We must turn from our sins and turn toward him. 
This conversion isn’t just once; we learn quickly enough as his followers, 
that we must repent over and over. And you see that with the Apostles. 
They were always losing their way, 
and Jesus would help them turn back to him. 
And that, too, was part of their learning and growing.

There’s another way we must be ready to turn: 
Jesus himself is going to surprise us 
with turns and directions we don’t expect. 

When I was 16, I was certain I would be an attorney. 
When I applied for college, I expected an Air Force scholarship, 
but that didn’t happen. When the time came to apply to law school, 
I discovered I didn’t want to be a lawyer after all! 

Instead, I worked as a journalist. A few turns later, 
I was working in politics. And then, at age 35, 
I entered the seminary, and here I am, a priest. 
I never saw it coming, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So if you want to be his disciple, be ready to keep turning back to him, staying close to him, whichever way he takes you.

The third word is “time.” 
There can be no discipleship 
unless we are prepared to give our time to Jesus. 
If you look at the Gospels, 
the Apostles were almost always with Jesus – 
only occasionally off on their own. 

And when he was telling them about his departure – 
today’s Gospel gives us part of that conversation – 
Jesus promised the Holy Spirit, 
so that he would be with them “always, until the end of the world.”

You might be thinking, I can’t give Jesus all my time! 
I have work, I have chores, I have a business to run, 
friends, sports, school and papers and studying to do! 
But there is no contradiction. 

Obviously, this giving of time to Jesus involves prayer; 
prayer is absolutely indispensable. 
What you will find is that if you give Jesus 
a part of your time in prayer – it need not be a lot, 
even 15 minutes will do – 
and if you invite him along for the rest of the day, he will be there.

This isn’t something that just happens; it is a habit we form, 
and the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, will help us. 
As we go through our day, we pause, we ask Jesus to help; 
we call on him when frustrated or under temptation, and he is there. 

So to be his disciple, we must give him time.

Finally, to be a disciple is to be taught. 
Remember, the main way the first disciples learned from Jesus 
was by being with him. 
They prayed with him; they read or listened to Scripture with him; 
they listened to his words. And they saw what he did, 
particularly in caring for people in their needs. 
If you want to learn from Jesus, read Scripture, yes; 
and seek out other good materials. 
But you will also learn when you reach beyond yourself 
and seek Christ in others. 

Jesus calls you to be his disciple. 
It’s not easy; it’s simply the best thing there is.

Christ calls us to build and fill his House; here's how we're going to do it in this parish (Sunday homily)

There are two special points emphasized in the readings. 
First is hospitality and welcome; and the second is building God’s House. 

In light of those themes, I think this is a great opportunity 
to return to the Parish Priorities 
I introduced in a homily just before Lent. 
As I explained then, these are priorities the Pastoral Council and I, 
after much reflection, see as deserving special emphasis. 

And to recall, they are five: 

(1) Devout worship;
(2) Forming more disciples;
(3) Offering a better welcome;
(4) Seeking out – that is, inactive Catholics 
and those who aren’t Catholic;
(5) Paying for it all.

But it all boils down to what the readings talk about. 
Building God’s House – which is made of people – 
and seeking out those God wants in his House.

In the first reading, the early Church is divided along ethnic lines; 
that is, Greeks and Hebrews, with the Greeks feeling neglected.

Notice the Apostles’ solution is very practical. 
All seven men have Greek names. 
It has ever been this way. 
When the Archbishop sent the first priest here, 
he chose Father Navarron, who was French, 
like the first Catholics in this parish.
There are similar needs today. 
A growing number of Catholics in the U.S. are Spanish-speaking.
But do you realize that right now, 
Hispanics represent over 40% of all Catholics in this country? 

So far, we aren’t seeing this in Russia, 
but go to Osgood and St. Mary’s, to Sidney and Piqua, to Troy 
– and of course points beyond – you’ll see this here and now.
And who can say but that Russia’s turn may come before long.

Meanwhile, there is another cultural and language barrier 
that is real for us, here and now. I don’t mean Spanish v. English. 
I mean, the gap between the culture that is familiar to us 
as practicing Catholics, as opposed to those around us, 
who are not Catholic, or not active.

You and I gather here each Sunday because that’s our habit; 
our parents taught it to us, and part of what brings us here
is that this is where we feel at home; 
our friends and family are here, too.
We have a familiarity; we “fit in.” 

But if you didn’t grow up with what is so familiar to us; 
or, if you were baptized Catholic, 
but never really developed the habits 
that are second-nature for many of us, then there is a barrier. 
The terms you and I use, 
like “grace” and “sacraments” and “Resurrection” 
might as well be Spanish or French 
for many who live and work side-by-side with us. 
Has Christ prepared a place for them? Of course! 
So who has the task of helping them find that place? 

My purpose in proposing these Parish Priorities 
isn’t about some new project or program, 
but a different way of thinking; and even in being Catholic.
A different awareness of what belonging to this parish means.
Not just for the priest, or the staff, or key volunteers,
but for every single baptized Catholic, from age 1 to 101.

So why now? There are trends moving very fast in our nation, 
leading us to a post-Christian future. 
And I don’t mean 100 years from now, I mean, 20 years from now. 
Unless we build a great wall around Russia, this will affect us, too.

Let me offer an analogy. 
What if I told you that for each child enrolled in Russia School, 
there was another child in this community, not enrolled, 
and not home-schooled either, but in fact, 
receiving no education at all? Would that shock you?

Well, that’s the situation with our parish! 
For every person who attends Mass here each week, 
there is another Catholic who is registered in this parish, 
but doesn’t show up. 
We have 1,564 Catholics registered; 
we get about 750 in the pews each week. 
And that’s only those Catholics who bothered to register!


Meanwhile, there hundreds more folks who aren’t Catholic, 
but who Christ is making room for in his Father’s House as well.

So, this is why we began the Men’s Prayer Walk last June, 
and we’ll do it again this June – check the bulletin for the date. 

This is why we’ve begun inviting everyone – not just Catholics – 
to use Formed.org and to attend our summer Bible Camp. 
This is why we will have a Parish Mission this November 
with Father Nathan Cromly. 
But again, it isn’t about a program or an event; 
And sending out flyers alone isn’t enough.

So, here’s something you can do. 

Over the next several months, I’d like to meet personally 
with each and every parish group, 
in order to talk about these priorities, and very specifically, 
to talk about how each group can play a role.

After all, this welcome, this bringing people to the Lord, 
usually doesn’t begin at Sunday Mass; 
it begins in your living rooms or backyards, 
over lunch at school or pizza in the bowling alley. 

If this was simply a matter of special knowledge 
or some sort of “technique,” 
I’d pass out cards or booklets; but it’s not. 

It’s a change of mindset; it’s an evolution to the culture of the parish. 
Just like what the Apostles did in the first reading.
And this adaptation, this new mindset, 
will happen not simply because I talk about it on Sunday, 
but because it’s something we all help each other learn together.

So if you are part of any group or activity in the parish, 
I’m asking someone from your group 
to send me an email or give me a call, 
and we’ll plan a time to dig into this together. 

Today is Mother’s Day, and we give thanks for all our mothers do – 
in giving us natural life, and sharing spiritual life with us. 
How do they do it? 

The answer is not, that it’s something they say now and then, 
or some special knowledge or program. 

No; our mothers do what they do by being who they are. 
Their life, their example, as well as their words, are the “how”; 
our moms being who they are is how we become who we are. 
That’s how the family grows; that’s how the Church grows. 
And that’s how you and will share Christ with our community.