My weekend...

Here's a vignette...

Several weeks ago, a local group planned to bring a priest here from Haiti. His parish benefits from contributions from local folks -- including my parishioners -- so this was an opportunity for them to know where their money goes, and for the priest and the Haitian parish to tell their story.

Meanwhile, I had a wedding scheduled for Saturday...that means a rehearsal Friday, of course.

Somewhere in there I got a call: So-and-so was from your parish; she died; her funeral was at Such-and-such a parish, will you lead prayers at the grave on Saturday? Sure.

(It's starting to get complicated, but what can I do?)

Priest visiting from Haiti speaks little English; he brings a parishioner of his who speaks English. The group here, that is organizing things, has a schedule for him to meet with this group, that group, see this and that. He's going to be at all the Masses this weekend. I speak up: Father should be given an opportunity to offer Mass himself; even in French, if that's all that works. I stupidly thought Haitians all speak French; they speak Creole, which is French derived, but not the same thing. At any rate, we planned for one Mass to be a mixture of French and English, meaning, Father could offer Mass and we'd all just manage.

Father-from-Haiti is very pleasant, but little time to visit. I've got a rehearsal, he's got visits...

Oh, and the retired priest who was going to come on Saturday morning -- I have two other Masses -- gets a fever. Now I have three Saturday Masses, plus confessions, plus the burial...

And then I get a call: a longtime parishioner died. When shall I meet with the family? How about Saturday, between the burial for the other lady, and the wedding? That's all that works. Thank God, everyone who came for the 11:30 am burial arrived by 11:30 am. Bereavement meeting at noon went smoothly -- good, as there's a wedding at 1:30 and I need to be in the sacristy at 1 pm. "Father, it's hot in church!" "Yes, and I suggest that if you keep these inside doors closed, that'll help." "Good idea!"

Oh, did I mention I was sick this past week? Nothing serious, but I was hoarse and coughing a lot. No one likes to have the priest up at the altar, coughing. Thankfully, I felt pretty good by 1 pm on Saturday. But at the 8:15 am Mass, I said, "it's going to be a long day, sorry but no homily, no petitions..."

The families kindly invited me to the reception; and if they do (they don't always), I am happy to go.

Oh, I forgot to mention two phone calls on Friday: about a very difficult situation. No details, sorry, it's private; but VERY difficult, and I apologized for not being able to talk longer, but -- the rehearsal was in 15 minutes. 

So, by Saturday evening, things seemed on a good slide. All I had to worry about for Sunday was...

The priest visiting from Haiti would be the celebrant; but I would assist as I could, as he spoke almost no English; no one else in church spoke French. It worked, but there were some bumps.

Two more Masses...it went fine.

Then a baptism, now we're on the easy side of the day. Did I mention I was getting hoarse and coughing a little? 

The visiting priest and his interpreter headed out after that, to another parish nearby and then to Indiana. Not so easy for them. Hearing about the deprivation in Haiti is...amazing. How blessed we are. 

So it's been a couple of hours, doing nothing but drinking a cold drink on my porch, and nothing else.

The new war on tradition

It's been about five weeks since Pope Francis issued Traditiones Custodes, his motu proprio greatly restricting the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM), and everything, apparently, associated with it.

This decision hit me so hard that I barely talked about it, to anyone, for a week or two. I made only the briefest mention of it at Mass. Meanwhile, I contacted Archbishop Schnurr almost instantly to ask for whatever permissions were possible. Via the priest he designated as his "delegate" to handle these matters, I received permission to offer the Traditional Latin Mass "privately." No permission to celebrate any of the other sacraments in the traditional form; nor, it seems, for me to use the older forms of blessings. The Archbishop gave permission for two parishes in Cincinnati to continue offering the TLM, a parish in Dayton, and he indicated he would designate a site up north as well; that hasn't happened yet.

An aside: some want to fault Archbishop Schnurr for not being generous enough in applying, or even in sidestepping, the pope's edict. I am not a canon lawyer, so I am in no position to fault how Father Ruiz, the designated delegate, or the Archbishop himself, are construing things. But I do know they both are trying to act in accord with their consciences, as is right. And I know the following to be true: prior to Traditiones Custodes, Schnurr could not have been more generous toward those interested in traditional rites. Every priest was welcome to offer the TLM; training was generously made available; he made no problems whatsoever. The Archbishop takes seriously his moral duty to be obedient and I think he is trying to do that. Second, the choice of Father Ruiz was entirely suitable and irenic. He, too, has been supportive, and will do everything he can, conscientiously, to assist those interested in traditional forms.

So, to put it simply, even if you think Archbishop Schnurr could handle this differently, remember he is not the author of this new reality, and he is trying to navigate this with the long-term in view.

After a week, I did start writing about this situation in the parish bulletin, and I did work out how I would handle things at St. Remy. I have permission to offer the TLM privately; I have permission to allow a layperson to assist as an altar server; I have permission to do this in the church; no one told me to lock the doors or kick the faithful out of church; and I was told that if people wished to receive Holy Communion, I could give them the Eucharist. So these are the things I am doing. What, then, does offering Mass "privately" mean? It means that such a Mass cannot be on the parish schedule, nor can it be "announced." So, I regularly offer the TLM privately, without any announcement; but I do it the same time each week. If people figure it out and show up, what shall I do?

I am supremely confident that Archbishop Schnurr is entirely fine with people being present when I offer such a private Mass, but I can readily imagine it being otherwise. In the Diocese of Pittsburgh, the bishop has forbidden priests from any private Traditional Latin Mass. Meanwhile, in other places, even those things that might be suggestive of traditional things are being banned. In Costa Rica, vestments that savor of tradition are banned -- from use with the 1970 Mass -- as is Latin! A priest in the Archdiocese of Chicago has been told that he and the people must cease praying the St. Michael Prayer, and the Hail Mary, at the conclusion of Mass! Permission was graciously granted for them to do so silently.

All this is supremely silly and petty, and only serves to reflect badly on those who issue such edicts. What in the world does it even mean to say, you can't pray a prayer "after Mass"? Is the public recitation of the St. Michael Prayer forbidden entirely? No? Then how much time must elapse between the conclusion of Mass and the licit recitation of this prayer? 

It may be hard to see it, but there will be good that comes from all this, although I doubt it will be what those who support this war on tradition hope for. But good will come, because it always does. 

Meanwhile, there will be bad fruit as well; the instances I cited above are some of that bad fruit. There will be many who are discouraged -- I am discouraged! There will be further divisions as people take this opportunity to treat others badly, especially when they have the power to do so.

Also meanwhile, there are those counseling disobedience. I cannot assess the conscience of others, but I cannot endorse that. 

It is one of the oldest and most seductive temptations: to justify disobedience out of an inflated sense of "necessity" and because some aspect of the obedience demanded is unfair or unjust. I will not say that there are never grounds for disobedience, but that option must be saved for last. However unfair it would be for the bishop to tell me (which he has not done, let me stress) that I may not offer the TLM at all, in my judgment, I would not be justified in defying him. If he directs me to offer the 1970 Mass only, then that is what I would do. 

After all, whenever I reach the point that I think my only option is to disobey the bishop (or the pope), there still remains one other option: to resign -- i.e., from a pastoral assignment. Sure, I hear you say, "but that's exactly what these bishops want!" They may want this or that problem priest to go away, but they do need someone to staff parishes. Resignation is an entirely ethical way to refuse to obey; and it is a witness.

Remember, the battle is always the Lord's; and deciding to trust him is a powerful message, and a blameless one. 

Meanwhile, we must simply wait for the contradictions that have been set in motion to grind away on each other. At Where Peter is, a gentlemen tries gamely to defend the pope's edict by arguing that the reason the TLM must be chucked out the window, in favor of the 1970 Missal, is because the new Mass is simply "better"; then to show the manifest inferiority of the old Mass, he cites several features that -- oops -- are likewise features of liturgy in non-Roman Catholic rites. Thus raising the question of whether these non-Roman rites must also be extirpated? The author tries to wave away the implication of his argument with a footnote: "Nothing I am saying here is meant to indicate any disunity between the Rites nor is it meant to indicate any inferiority of the other Catholic Rites." Well, you may not have "meant" to indicate inferiority, just as a poor driver doesn't mean to run the car into a telephone pole; but the mess remains.

The drift of these arguments -- and when arguments fail, naked impositions of power -- is to argue that no more debate may be tolerated about the 1970 Missal -- it's better, don't you see, so shut up! -- and for that matter, about anything that has followed the Second Vatican Council; and, for that matter, the Council itself. The basic approach here is simply to demand silence. 

Not only won't that work; it is positively corrosive. 

Many of us have long maintained that Vatican II was badly served by the implementation that followed, and I still take that view. But, if you keep insisting that people must accept it all -- the Council, plus the 1970 Missal AS-IS, plus all the rest of the decisions about religious life and architecture and catechesis -- as a package deal, while being told that if they question or wonder, they're schismatics and they "sadden" the Holy Father...

Well, people will stop asking their questions openly; but they won't stop wondering; and if they believe you that it's all a package deal, then at some point, people who previously did not question the Council itself may find themselves doing so. They will find themselves searching online for discussions of this subject; to learn more about an event that happened before they were born, and about which, they haven't really learned a whole lot. And if those in communion with Rome are forbidden to discuss openly these questions, then whose articles and websites do you suppose these inquisitive minds will land?

This all takes me back to when I entered the seminary. I had no particular interest in the the Traditional Latin Mass at the time; I had almost no experience with it and it was opaque to me. I had, however, familiarized myself with the documents of Vatican II before entering the seminary; that seemed common-sensical to do while waiting. But then I noticed something about the seminary (this was 1997): certain subjects and certain interests were verboten; any discussion was entered into furtively, while no faculty were around, and indeed, only with seminarians who one felt could be trusted. 

What subjects and interests? Anything savoring of tradition! One was extremely careful about even expressing the slightest interest in the rites and forms of liturgy prior to 1970. Indeed, even expressing interest in clerical attire would get unfavorable notice from the "formators" -- because that might suggest a certain fetish about having a clerical identity: very unhealthy! 

Guess what? This very climate of suppression and fear piqued my interest. Oh, I was quite careful myself; but all this seemed awfully curious to me: what was so dangerous about tradition? I naively thought of the Catholic Church as all about tradition; one of the things I had to wrestle with in my return to the Faith was understanding how tradition fit into the whole picture. And then I found myself asking: do these folks who are teaching us, or whose materials we are studying, imagine that Vatican II represented a break with the tradition? I knew in my bones that if there were two Churches (pre- and post-VII), then there is NO Church. The Church is one, and therefore, there must be continuity.

Thankfully, the seminary I attended is no longer subject to this repressive climate, but I suspect this sort of fearfulness is going to make a come-back in many places. It won't work, as it didn't work in my case and in the case of many with whom I attended the seminary; it will only serve to expose the fragility of the positions those who impose this sort of thought-control.

So, yes, this is all bad, but keep of good cheer. This new war on tradition will not be successful.

'God dwells here' (Homily for Anniversary of St. Remy Dedication)

 This weekend we recall the consecration of this church; 

the actual anniversary is August 18, 

but we move it to the nearest Sunday.

This year, we also celebrate 175 years of our parish. 

The first Mass offered in Russia was not here, 

but at what was then the DeBrosse farm on Versailles Road. 

Father Navarron, the first pastor, lived in a small house there, 

and he set aside part of his home as a chapel.

In October – after the harvest – 

we’re going to have a pilgrimage out to that very location. 

Also, as you know, after the 11 am Mass on Sunday, 

we will have a picnic lunch and some live entertainment; 

I hope you can come!

Let’s be clear about the meaning of this anniversary.

Our Mass prayers and our readings are all about this place, this church.

When this church was consecrated, it became a true Holy of Holies.

It is literally true to say: God dwells here.

This anniversary should be joyful; and yet there is anxiety.

Too many things in our church, our nation, our world, give us disquiet.

I am reminded of something Saint Augustine said 1,600 years ago: 

Is there any affliction now endured by mankind 

that was not endured by our fathers before us? 

What sufferings of ours even bear comparison 

with what we know their sufferings? 

And yet you hear people complaining about this present day and age 

because things were so much better in former times. 

I wonder what would happen if they could be taken back 

to the days of their ancestors – 

would we not still hear them complaining? 

You may think past ages were good, 

but it is only because you are not living in them.

With that in mind, let’s recall our forebears who first arrived here.

They barely had anything we would call a “road”;

whatever resources they had – tools, food, life savings – 

they brought with them.

None of their tools ran on either electric or gas – but sweat.

Imagine all the trees they cut down…with an axe or handsaw.

There was no 911 to call in an emergency.

No hospital to go to if you felt bad.

No antibiotics and not much to relieve pain.

It must have been a very hard life, and they knew it would be, 

when they left all behind in Europe, 

and sailed for several weeks across a vast ocean, 

and then made their way deep into a wilderness of unknown peril.

When they arrived and caught their breath and wiped their brows, 

it wasn’t long before they knew what they needed:

A house for God to dwell in. A priest to offer Holy Mass 

and to baptize and to give absolution and the anointing of the sick 

and all the sacraments.

They wanted God to dwell here, and their Catholic faith assured them 

that in the Most Holy Eucharist, indeed God does dwell here.

Stop and think about the burden of work they faced, 

and with what justification they could have said, 

“we have so much we must do first; we’ll get around to God later.” 

Instead they moved quickly to invite God to dwell in their midst.

You and I have heard such discouraging news in recent weeks.

How heavy it is to witness the suffering of people 

in Afghanistan, Haiti – or a farm family in St. Henry.

That first generation who came here fled the wars of Europe;

as their sons came of age, they were called up for the Civil War.

In those days, a bad crop wasn’t just lost income; it was famine.

Do you dread the hostile culture around us? 

Did you know that in 1855,  

a mob set fire to the first Holy Angels church – in Sidney? 

That was only one of many riots across the nation, targeting Catholics.

What gave them strength and confidence to keep going?

Their families; their faith; and this house of God.

Today when you leave this house, 

will you know and be sure within yourself, 

that you were with God today; 

that you beheld him with your very eyes?

Will others you meet realize, from having met you,  

that God dwells here?

'Where Mary is, God wants us to be as well' (Assumption homily)

 Today we remember Mary’s departure from this life 

and entry into eternity.

We believe, as Pope Pius XII taught definitively in 1950, 

“that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, 

having completed the course of her earthly life, 

was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory.”

We believe this because early Christians believed it.

There is an interesting bit of concrete evidence for this:

and it is that nowhere on earth are the bones of Mary kept.

Surely, if her body had remained on earth, 

Her remains would have been honored and protected,

and they would be venerated to this day.

The bones of the apostles have been preserved all these centuries;

It is impossible to believe Mary’s body would be any less honored.

A third reason we believe it is because it makes sense 

that God would give this gift to her who cooperated so perfectly 

and so powerfully with God’s plan to save the human race. 

Now, there’s an important point to make about this gift given Mary, 

like all the gifts God gave to her.

Mary being taken into heaven 

isn’t only something that happened to her; 

it has meaning for all of us, for all Christians.

Where Mary goes, we will go. 

Everything God gave to Mary, he will give us as well.

So this is a powerful cause for hope.

As you know, I recently did a series of homilies 

on the Mass and the Eucharist.

Last week, Deacon Ethan Hoying gave a powerful homily 

on the Eucharist truly and really being Jesus’ Body and Blood.

There’s a connection between that subject and today’s observance,

and it is this: the Mass and the Eucharist aren’t only about 

a backward connection to the First Good Friday and the Resurrection.

They are also about a forward connection to what we aim for – 

where Mary has already arrived – and that is heaven.

The readings remind us of the “ark of the covenant.”

These details are fascinating.

This was a box, covered inside and out with pure gold.

This box was covered with a lid, on which two cherubim were fashioned. 

Their wings extended toward each other.

FYI, if you ever saw the Indiana Jones movie, 

it does a good job at least showing you what the ark looked like.

The ark had the original Ten Commandments placed in it, 

along with a container holding some of the manna from the desert.

Once a year, the high priest would enter into the Holy of Holies – 

where the ark was kept – in order to offer atonement for the people. 

God’s Glory would come down and overshadow the ark; 

the wings of the cherubim were referred to as the “Mercy Seat” – 

a kind of throne for God.

Now, compare the old ark to the new ark – that is, Mary:

What is better than pure gold? How about pure holiness? 

Mary was preserved, by God’s action, from any stain of sin.

Mary carried not God’s Word in stone, but the Word made flesh.

She bore not manna from the desert, but the true Bread from Heaven!

All this after the Holy Spirit of God overshadowed her.

And notice this: she was present when the true High Priest – her Son! – 

offered atonement for sin, not once a year, 

but once for all time and forever.

Here’s a secret that so many miss.

Do you know what is the closest you can be to heaven, while on earth? 

It’s where you are right this moment.

Do you doubt that Mary believed that?

Do you have any question, that when the Apostles offered Mass, 

she believed her Son when he said, “Do this in memory of me”? 

She knew for certain that the bread and wine 

truly became the Body and Blood of Jesus.

Do you deny that Mary above all would recognize her own son?

If Mary were still on earth, she’d be right here.

The Mass, the Eucharist, is not only union with Jesus on the Cross.

It is also union with Jesus risen from the dead; 

Jesus reigning in heaven: union with Jesus FOREVER.

Where Mary is, God wants us to be as well. 

The Wondrous Exchange (Sunday homily)

 Last Sunday, in my homily series, 

we looked at the dimension of sacrifice: 

the Holy Mass is a true and real sacrifice, 

precisely because it is the re-presentation of Calvary. 

To put crudely, the Mass is like a time-machine 

that takes us to the first Good Friday.

A better way to say it is that the Mass, 

because it is the action of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, 

is bigger than space and time. Bigger than everything!

When you and I take part in Mass, we tap into that power, 

and we are taken both back in time to Calvary, 

and also forward in time to the heavenly realities 

toward which God is pulling us with all his might.

And to repeat an essential point: 

to receive Holy Communion is to enter into union with God – 

Father, Son and Holy Spirit – in the fullness of this reality. 

So no one should ever receive the Eucharist 

without faith and preparation and being in a state of grace.

This is all too important to be casual about it!

No one in her right might would say to a casual acquaintance, 

let’s get married, right now! 

Even moreso, no one should approach the altar of God 

without great awareness of this awesome reality.

Today, I want to look again at this aspect of sacrifice, 

but from a different angle; 

and pose the question that maybe you’ve pondered – I know I have – which is this:

Why God? Why did you do it this way?

Why was the plan for the Son to die?

Here’s a reason that occurs to me. 

Every one of us discovers, more than once and in more than one way, the division within ourselves.

Part of us aspires to be great; above all, morally great.

Who doesn’t admire a Mother Theresa, who gives her life for the poor?

Or Father Kapaun, who sacrificed his life in the Korean War, 

for the soldiers he was there to help?

But then we always stumble over that other part of ourselves, 

which you can see on full display beginning a few months after birth. 

When we are little, you and I literally take the food 

out of our parents’ mouths – we don’t care if they eat; gimme, MINE!

It’s a lifelong challenge: what do we call it? Dying to self!

Sooner or later, there can be real pain 

as we confront that selfish barbarian inside ourselves: 

he has to die so that we can really live.

In other words, humanity faced crucifixion whether Jesus came or not!

So look what God did: he said to humanity, your trial is mine!

Your pain is mine! Your death will become mine, 

and in so doing, become life for you, not merely human but divine life!

Of course, we wonder, couldn’t God have spared us suffering?

And the answer has to be yes, he could, because he’s God.

If you are a parent, let me ask you this:

if you had it in your power, 

would you prevent your child from any and all suffering?

You know you can’t; but what if you could?

And I don’t just mean exterior hardships, like losing a job, 

or a broken heart, or physical disability or sickness.

The trials that matter most are when they become 

a confrontation within ourselves, the choice between good and evil;

and whether we will pay the price 

to kill that selfishness and greed and lust within.

Mom, dad: you can’t really spare your child from that battle!

All you can do is help him or her face it and pass through it safely.

See how our parents show us God?

This is what God does: he says, you don’t have to face your cross alone!

So, here we are at the Mass, at the Cross; 

and we dragged our own cross here!

Speaking for myself, I am embarrassed by the pitiful “cross” 

I complain about, as I contemplate what Jesus took up.

And here Jesus says – and we hear him say it:  

“This is my Body, given for you! This is my blood, shed for you!”

Union with Jesus puts you & me on the altar of sacrifice (Sunday homily)

 Let’s drill in on today’s Gospel. 

Specifically, why did Jesus ask the Apostles to provide food?

First, of course, Philip says, it’s impossible.

Next, Andrew finds a boy with his own lunch – a meager offering.

And this, I think, is the key: Jesus wanted something offered.

As you know, I’m doing a series of homilies 

about the Mass and the Eucharist. 

Last week the focus was on how full and intense 

is the unity with Christ that comes in Holy Communion. 

Holy Communion is union.

This Sunday, my focus is on sacrifice.

For there to be a sacrifice, something must be brought and offered.

In the Old Testament, it was lambs, bulls, or fruit of the harvest.  

When it comes to the New Testament sacrifice, 

the essential offering is Jesus himself, 

the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

On Calvary, on Good Friday, this is true: Jesus offers himself.

But this episode in the Gospel is looking beyond Good Friday, 

to the Holy Mass – as we call it – 

that would be offered day by day until he comes again. 

That’s why Jesus is going to talk about bread!

Bread – and wine – aren’t needed for Good Friday.

But they are needed for the Mass, which is the extension of Calvary.

And, the bread and wine – when changed by the Holy Spirit – 

are how you and I receive the flesh and blood of the Passover Lamb.

As the people who Jesus fed in today’s Gospel will say, later,

“How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”

The answer – the only answer – is the sacrifice of the Mass,

Which the Apostles and priests after them were to offer.

So, to be clear: in this episode, the people received ordinary bread, 

which Jesus had miraculously increased in quantity.

This is not yet the Holy Eucharist, which will come after Calvary; 

but this is a foreshadowing of what would come.

Still, some might point to today’s Gospel and say, 

see, Jesus gave to everyone! That’s how Holy Communion should be!

But notice, many of the assembled people weren’t ready.

They wanted to make Jesus an earthly king;

and when he later explains that, in the Eucharist, 

they would eat his flesh and drink his blood, 

many were offended and even left him.

So let’s ask: how can it be good for people 

to receive Jesus in the Eucharist, if they don’t believe? 

And in fact, it is harmful, which is what we’ve always believed: 

to receive the Holy Eucharist without faith, or in a state of mortal sin, 

is a sacrilege and that, itself, is also a mortal sin. 

Saint Paul described it as eating and drinking “damnation” for oneself!

This is why it is so important to go to confession 

before coming to Holy Communion, 

if you are aware of having committed a mortal sin.

So let me make this point. Sometimes someone you know 

may be at Mass and choose not to go to communion. 

Please, please don’t ask any questions. 

You may think it’s helpful to ask what’s going on, 

but that’s a very private matter and it’s better to leave it alone. 

One key thing we must believe before receiving Holy Communion, 

is precisely that you and I are taking part in a real, true sacrifice.

The Mass truly and really is united to the sacrifice of Calvary; 

they are one and the same. 

And now let’s connect what we talked about last Sunday:

You and I are becoming ONE with Jesus, truly, really one.

This begins in baptism, and is the point of all the sacraments.

So when Jesus offers himself, who is also on the altar?

You are! I am!

Later in Mass the priest says, “Pray, brothers and sisters, 

that your sacrifice and mine may be acceptable…”

It is your sacrifice; and it is my sacrifice.

But not bread and wine, but rather, what they will become:

Jesus himself! Jesus, the Lamb of God!

So take this seriously: you and I must put ourselves on the altar!

Let me speak personally here.

The pope’s decision a week ago to restrict greatly 

the Traditional Latin Mass 

caused me a lot of hurt and discouragement,

as I know it did many other people. 

I’m getting so many questions and I’m sorry, 

I can’t explain the pope’s thinking, 

beyond what he, himself, has said. 

I don’t want to make surmises 

about any other motives he may have had.

But what occurred to me is that this is a share in the Cross.

Remember, the Cross is unfair; it is undeserved;

and many people find the pope’s action very unfair. Me included.

So what did Jesus do when he was treated unfairly? Say, “I quit?”

No: he offered that unfairness to the Father, 

confident he would be vindicated.

I don’t know how all this will play out, but the only answer 

is to unite ourselves more fully to Jesus on the Cross.

You and I can be confident that God will recognize 

and reward those who are obedient – like Jesus – 

even in great unfairness. Out of his Cross comes life for others, 

and we become that life for others by our own embrace of the Cross.

And remember, if we unite ourselves to Jesus in his death, 

we will be with him, all the way to heaven! That’s the plan.

Holy Communion = Union with God; that's why some can't come to Communion (Sunday homily)

 Last week we began looking at the Mass and the Holy Eucharist; 

and the lesson from last week was this: 

this is all about a bigger plan by God, and without seeing 

that bigger reality, you can’t understand the Eucharist properly.

What is that plan? It is union with God – 

and I mean that in the fullest, fullest sense. 

See, this is the whole controversy right here: 

people want to receive Holy Communion,

but that union-with-God, union-with-his-people, thing? 

Let’s keep that part vague! We can deal with that later.

But that’s the whole point; there is no other point. So you can’t skip it. 

If you or I say we have union with God; 

but we don’t unite to what Jesus says: is that real union?

You have politicians who take precisely that view:

they say, oh we love Jesus and we should be able to receive 

the Eucharist – but we believe Jesus is wrong in what he teaches!

Of course they don’t state it that baldly, but that is their position.

Jesus says, marriage is male and female. They reject that.

Jesus says “Thou shalt not kill,” but they won’t stop abortion;

They even say you and I must pay for it!

So, yes, these politicians are rejecting Jesus’ own words.

How do you take Jesus in the Eucharist while rejecting Him? 

It’s not just politicians. Lots of people want to take Holy Communion, 

but they don’t want to live the way Jesus commands.

And I am not soft-pedaling the challenge of the commandments.

But how can we be in union with Jesus, while not living as he asks?

A third example: people – who aren’t Catholic -- say, I love Jesus!

You should give me Holy Communion!

So you or I ask, well, do you believe this – 

the Sacred Host, the Precious Blood – 

actually and truly are Jesus himself? 

And these folks will get uncomfortable and say, 

what difference does it make, and can’t we skip over that?

And the answer is, the Eucharist is all about unity;

how can there be unity if we aren’t even united 

about WHO the Eucharist IS?

One more case: there are folks who say, Jesus is fine with me – 

but I don’t want to join the Church he founded.

Who would say that to Jesus’ face:

Jesus, I like your head; but the rest of your Body? No!

In all these ways, people want to take the Eucharist 

but they want to sidestep the whole “union with God” part –

Again I remind you…THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT!

That’s why it’s called COMMUNION.

So, what the Church has always taught, from the very beginning, 

is that before you and I enter into any of the sacraments, 

there has to be a unity of faith – we believe the same things – 

and a unity of life – we accept and live by the same commandments;

and we do this as a community, or “communion,” called the Church.

There are those who tell you, just go to communion, 

don’t worry about what you believe, 

or about keeping God’s commandments; 

and it doesn’t matter if you belong to the Church Jesus established.

Those who say that, I have to ask: do they believe in hell?

Or do they figure nearly everyone goes to heaven, 

so what difference does it make?

In the second reading, Paul says what he always says:

this is all about the Cross. 

Jesus died to reconcile us to each other and to God. 

If we all go to heaven anyway, why did he do that?

Here are words Jesus never said:

Do what you like, it’ll all work out fine.

The reason it all matters is because this world 

is where we respond to God’s grace 

and by carrying the Cross daily, you and I become heavenly; 

or we don’t let God’s grace change us, and then we lose heaven.

Someone might ask: Am I claiming we have to be perfect

in order to come to Holy Communion? Absolutely not!

What I am saying is that you and I must unite [changed to "bend" in some Masses] our will to Jesus’ 

as best we can; opening ourselves to his grace to do the rest.

So: today’s message: Holy Communion is about union.

Union with God in all ways; union with Jesus on the Cross; 

and union with one another, which is maybe the hardest part of all!

If anyone says, I want Jesus, how do I have Jesus?

Our Catholic answer is, come and meet Jesus in our company.

We will share with you what comes from the Apostles.

Discover who he is, and discover the Church he established.

Count the cost of taking up his Cross as he himself said.

You are welcome to come with us, and be part of us. 

We will share everything with you, 

in this life, and even more, in the life to come!

Pope Francis sharply restricts the Traditional Latin Mass

 As you may know, today in Rome Pope Francis issued a new decree which expressly abrogates all prior permissions regarding the celebration of the Traditional Latin Mass according to the 1962 liturgical books. Under his new directive, the Traditional Latin Mass can still be offered, but with what appears to be tight restrictions, subject to the permissions of bishops and, it appears, Rome.

At this time, I do not know how this affects the celebration of the Traditional Latin Mass at St. Remy. As I said a few minutes ago on our Facebook page:

It is with great sadness that I learn Pope Francis has abrogated prior permissions for the celebration of the Traditional Latin Mass. He has mandated that priests must request permission to continue to offer the Mass according to the older form, and authorized bishops to continue to allow the celebration of the Traditional Latin Mass; this morning I sent an urgent email to Archbishop Schnurr requesting permission so that we may continue to have the Traditional Latin Mass as we have done.

I am sure there are many questions and concerns; I really don't know much more than I've shared here. Archbishop Schnurr has always been very favorable toward traditional expressions of the faith, so I am confident he will respond as generously as possible. I suspect he, too, is trying to figure out the implications of this.

I ask that everyone pray for the Holy Father and for what happens now, as I think there will be a great deal of unhappiness and conflict. If you have strong feelings, I strongly urge you to think and pray before offering commentary that may be overheated.

Archbishop Schnurr is, I am sure, scrambling to figure out what permission he can give at this point: does my request for permission to celebrate the Traditional Latin Mass need to be ratified in Rome? Meanwhile, there are Masses planned everywhere, and now everything is in suspense.

While I will greatly limit my own commentary on this for the time being, there is one point I see people making already: that all this was prompted by bad behavior on the part of those who love the Traditional Latin Mass. I think this is terribly unfair. Sure, there are bitter people who behave badly; they are everywhere. 

For the time being, I'm going to refrain from further commentary. It is forseeable that some folks will react in unhelpful ways, and I do not wish to do that myself, or goad anyone into it. 

The Eucharist is part of a much bigger plan (Sunday homily)

 Over the next five weeks, 

the homilies will be about the Mass and the Eucharist.

Why this topic? The readings over the next few weeks set the stage.

The other reason is because of confusion and misunderstanding 

about the Eucharist, including what receiving Holy Communion means.

Many people have this idea that you can just walk in and take it.

It doesn’t matter what you believe; it doesn’t matter how you live;

you don’t even have to be Catholic. 

This is all too big a topic for one homily, so we’ll do it over five weeks.

Let’s start with today’s readings.

In Paul’s letter, he’s laying out the biggest of big pictures: 

God’s plan for salvation. Maybe you notice Paul goes on and on!

I think he’s struggling to find the right words.

Here’s what Paul is trying to describe:

God’s whole plan – fulfilled in Jesus Christ – is “more”; always more. 

To forgive us, but also more. 

To free us from the power of sin, and more. 

Not only to live forever, but even more. To share heaven – and more!

In the shocking words of St. Augustine and others: 

“God became man so that men might become God.”

We are to be united to God, to be sharers in God’s own nature! 

How do you take this heady, mind-blowing idea, that’s way up here,

and make it concrete and real for ordinary people, for everyone?

The answer is two fold:

First you create a community of people, who share their lives together.

In that shared life, these realities aren’t just abstract, they are lived. 

That’s what the Gospels call “the Church.”

And then, in the shared life of that community, 

God makes himself present on a continual basis, 

transforming people, on the way to the Kingdom.

What does that community share?

In two weeks, we’ll hear Paul answer that: “One faith, one baptism”:

a common body of beliefs, a common way of life.

They also share leaders: the apostles and their successors.  

And they share God’s sharing of his own, divine life: the sacraments:

Now, this is where we have to acknowledge that 

Protestant beliefs take one road, and Catholic and Orthodox teaching – 

which continue what the first Christians believed – takes a different road.

Protestantism, speaking generally, emphasizes individual acts of faith.

The thing is, too much of that and every believer is on his own:

you make your own Christianity; pick-and-choose.

What the early Church emphasized was God’s grace and power

acting through people, through the Church, through the sacraments. 

Without that part, we can go wrong one of two ways. 

One way is to make it all personal: it’s just me-and-God.

The other mistake is to forget that God’s power acts here-and-now;  

then sacraments and worship become mere human rituals, 

not sources of God’s grace.

And guess what most Protestant denominations teach:

sacraments have no – repeat, NO – divine power.

There is no Mass; no Sacrifice; and Holy Communion is only symbolic.

Now, our dear Protestant fellow Christians go part-way here:

they believe in miracles and conversion; they believe in God’s grace.

Where the crucial link is broken is regarding 

how God’s power acts through the Church and the sacraments. 

For example: we believe baptism has divine power and really saves us.

A man becomes a priest and really can act with God’s own power, 

to forgive sins; as a bishop, he teaches with authority, 

and at the altar, make present what Jesus did at the Cross.

So, now let’s turn to today’s Gospel. 

If you look closely, you’ll notice 

that most of Jesus’ time is focused on the Apostles.

He is with them day and night, for about three years.

Most of what he says, he directs to them.

The Apostles are the key to his plan.

See: Christianity isn’t only or even mainly 

about beliefs that we profess; 

if so, all Jesus needed to do was give us a book.

Rather, Christianity is also about relationship: 

we share a common life with other believers, and in that shared life,

God makes himself present. His power acting through people.

And that is how God begins to bring about what we heard Paul describe.

Notice that Jesus empowers the Apostles 

to do everything they’ve seen him – the Son of God himself – do.

The Apostles are learning to exercise divine power!

And if you say, that’s astounding, I agree:

How do you imagine I felt the first time I offered Holy Mass?

I will tell you: I wanted to crawl under the altar!

So we’re going to talk about the Eucharist for five weeks.

Today’s lesson is this: 

You and I can’t understand the Eucharist apart from the bigger plan. 

To quote St. Paul again:

“To sum up all things in Christ, in heaven and on earth.” 

Loving America as a faithful Catholic (Independence Day homily)

 Since the Fourth of July falls on a Sunday this year, 

part of my homily will be about the meaning of this holiday.

And since it seems like a lot of our fellow Americans 

don’t know the story of our country – 

in many cases they are being given a very distorted version of it – 

I can’t take anything for granted. 

So let’s start with the basics. 

First: to be patriotic is a virtue. 

It is right to love and honor the place of our birth, 

recognizing how much we are given.

This is not a blind love. 

Our country is not perfect, and so it is also right to help our country 

become more godly, to become a “more perfect union.” 

That said: it is wrong to treat good gifts with contempt.

Too many of our fellow Americans seem totally unaware 

of what incredible gifts we have been given 

in our birthright as Americans.

This is due in part to terrible distortions and misrepresentations.

I can only do so much in these few minutes. You can do a lot more.

One action item I strongly urge from this homily 

is for everyone here to discover our history 

and what we have to be grateful for. And to share it!

Parents and grandparents: do not take it for granted 

that everyone knows!

When you see people tearing down statues 

of George Washington and Thomas Jefferson 

and Theodore Roosevelt and others, 

and you have so many people who want to silence and “cancel” 

ideas they don’t like;

Or they try to burn down courthouses in many cities,

or they behave like fools in the U.S. Capitol,

and you have many saying they think socialism is the answer, 

then it’s painfully clear that quite a lot of people 

do not know what they should know about our country.

So: you want to do something positive and not just be unhappy?

Make sure your family knows what we all have in this country.

Today we celebrate the birth of the United States of America; 

because this was the day in 1776 that elected leaders 

from the first 13 states approved the Declaration of Independence. 

When they declared our independence from Great Britain – 

then the world’s superpower – 

it was very uncertain whether they would succeed. 

Our founding fathers pledged 

their “lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor.”  

If you have never read the Declaration of Independence, 

or it has been a while, then you should read it.

It is a statement of what our country is about; 

why we exist as a separate nation and what defines us.

Let me quote words that every American 

ought to have written in his or her heart:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, 

that all men are created equal, 

that they are endowed by their Creator 

with certain unalienable Rights, 

that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

“That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, 

deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.”

No one had ever really said it like this – all in one place.

No nation had ever dedicated itself to this vision;

and if we took these ideas for granted before, let us do so no longer,

because they are under assault everywhere, including here at home.

Part of the birthright of being American is that we are citizens: 

“We the people” have a vote. We have a voice. 

In Hong Kong, they used to be free, 

but now they are being enslaved by communist China. 

In Finland, a member of the Parliament 

referred to what the Bible says about male and female 

and she was charged with a crime.

A few days ago, an American athlete turned her back on the flag 

and complained about how oppressed she is. I don’t know her story. 

What I see is a terrible lack of gratitude, and ignorance. 

If she did that in most places, she’d find out what oppression really is. 

No matter who you are, if you live in the U.S., you won the lottery.

That is not to say you and I and others should not speak out.

There are problems. Is there racism? Yes.

Are their injustices? You bet. 

There desperately need to be changes in our cities 

and many of our public schools. 

And I can mention the prolife issue, 

the growing insanity about marriage and family: 

yes, there are things that need to change!

Getting involved, speaking out, protesting – peacefully – and organizing: 

these are the right things to do, the American things to do. 

But there’s one more layer, the deepest one of all:

You and I are Christians. 

God chose to put us here, in in this place and time.

We are here both to be citizens of this land, 

while also being citizens of God’s Kingdom. 

It is not always easy to do both, that this is our task.

The readings today are really fitting.

We hear about Ezekiel giving a message no one wanted to hear;

the exact same thing happened to our Lord Jesus in the Gospel.

St. Paul talks about the hardships and disrespect he experienced.

Many generations of Americans before us toiled and sacrificed, 

often with their lives, to make this a better country, 

truer to our founding ideas. 

If you and I have to face opposition or criticism or mockery, 

that puts us in a long line of Christian witnesses and, also, patriots.

It is right to love our country; the fullest expression of that love 

is to want the best for America and all our fellow citizens. 

So you and I celebrate so much that is good about our nation;

and we work and pray for the conversion of our country, 

asking, as the song says, “God mend thine every flaw.”

The Fatherhood shortage (Sunday homily)

 Even though next week is Father’s Day, 

I think fatherhood is the idea I want to focus on this week.

I’m going to talk about a couple of different things 

that aren’t obviously linked, but the connection really is “fatherhood.”

Let me start with the “Beacons of Light” planning process 

which the Archbishop is leading, regarding how best to provide 

for the 200-plus parishes of the Archdiocese.

First: what’s going on? The answer is that many of our parishes, 

as currently configured, are not healthy. 

If you measure things by our local situation, that may surprise you.

But we’re part of an Archdiocese that covers 19 counties,

and many places are facing a very different situation.

We talk about a shortage of priests, and that’s a real problem; 

but in many places, the bigger shortage is of people; 

and that means a shortage of volunteers and material resources.

This “Beacons of Light” project is about taking a big-picture approach

rather than dealing with it piece-meal.

As I said, this isn’t ONLY about not enough priests, 

but that is part of it; specifically, about having enough PASTORS – 

that is, priests who are in charge of parishes. 

So here’s something you may not have thought about:

Not all priests are cut out to be PASTORS. 

We have good, holy priests who are either too new, 

or else they just don’t have the skills to run a parish. 

We have 110 priests serving as pastors right now. 

But 58 of them are over 60 – that more than half!

And that means they will all be eligible to retire in the next ten years.

Of those pastors over 60, 20 of them are, in fact, over 70 – 

that means they are at or past retirement age;

even if they don’t want to retire, they may have to, at any time.

Meanwhile, we’re ordaining an average of four priests a year; 

But those new priests are not going to become pastors immediately 

and they shouldn’t! 

New pastors can do damage if they lack seasoning. 

I first became a pastor when I had been ordained only two years.  

I made some serious mistakes; it wasn’t intentional, 

and I not blaming anyone but myself, but experience matters.

Right now, today, the Archbishop has no “bench,” no back-up.

He’s brought in priests from Africa and India, 

some of whom will be returning to their native countries.

We can’t kick the can down the road any longer.

So what’s all this mean for Saint Remy?

Let’s start with the bad news.

It seems almost certain that at some point in the next ten years, 

the Archbishop will group our parish with one or two other parishes, 

and we will share two priests, but only one will be pastor. 

And if you wonder why, if there are going to be two priests, 

why not have both be pastors? 

Because that second priest will be someone fresh from the seminary,

or even an older priest, who isn’t otherwise suited to be pastor.

This has long been a possibility; I think it will finally happen.

The rest of your questions I can’t answer.

I can’t say which other parishes we will be grouped with.

The Archbishop is sorting through the situation in all 19 counties, 

and he will propose some groupings this September,

at which point we’ll all see them and be able to give input.

If you ask we’ll be “clustered,” that depends on things no can predict.

My health is good, but I can get sick and so can other priests.

Here’s what I think is good news and should reassure you.

I mentioned how in many places, parishes are emptied out.

They don’t have much happening; they lack volunteers and money;

and they are situated within miles of other parishes in the same boat.

None of that describes us.

So the kind of re-organizing that is likely to happen elsewhere 

is not reasonable to expect or fear here. 

For example, when I was in Piqua, 

we did combine two religious education programs into one, 

and combine offices. But those parishes are ½ mile apart; 

and there was a critical shortage of willing volunteers to teach CCD.

None of that applies to Russia.

I started by talking about fatherhood.

When we talk about our larger society, 

we’re facing a critical shortage of true fatherhood.

One of the things that makes our local community healthy 

is that we don’t face a plague of absent fathers.

That is directly tied to the health of this parish 

and of this northern part of our Archdiocese.

This helps explain why our area generates more vocations,

as the example of genuine fatherhood inspires more spiritual fathers.  

The readings highlight how great things 

can come from small, even discouraging, beginnings. 

The devil wants to discourage us and panic us;

Not just about changes in our parishes, but in our society as a whole.

Jesus calls us to keep calm and keep confident in his leadership,

no matter what else is happening.

This Friday, I invite all men of all ages, from 1 day old to 100 years old, 

to participate in our annual prayer walk. 

We’ll meet between 5-5:30 pm in the main parking lot.

This year we’ll car-pool out to Loramie-Washington Road,

So we’ll be glad for as many vans and big cars as possible.

As before, our walk will be all about praying for our community.

Our task as men is to guard and guide, including spiritually.

Over time, we will complete a circuit all around the parish.

We’ll have rides for those who can’t walk the route.

Then we’ll share fellowship afterward.

It’ll be hot; it’ll be tiring, and you may be tempted to think, 

what good does this do? 

All I can say is that we will be faithful and trust Jesus 

to make the seeds of faith grow in this community.

That is what you and I are called to do.

Treasuring the Gift of the Eucharist (Corpus Christi homily)

 On this Feast of Corpus Christi, 

I want to talk about some practical things, 

particularly as we try to resume what was normal 

before this last, very abnormal year.

First, I want to thank you for the way take reverence seriously, 

not only during Mass, but before and after. 

I’ve been in churches where this has been lost,

where people are visiting and talking as they would anywhere else.

Nothing wrong with visiting – but it destroys prayerfulness.

This is a good time to talk about how we receive Holy Communion. 

You know that there are two options: 

receiving on the tongue, or in the hand. 

It’s no secret that I have encouraged you to receive on the tongue; 

but during the Covid crisis, 

a lot of people were uncomfortable with that. I understand that.

So what follows isn’t meant to override that concern, 

but to talk a little about the best way to receive the Holy Eucharist, 

whether you do it in the hand, or on the tongue.

Let me say that sometimes people come to Holy Communion 

with only one hand free, often because you’re holding a child.

In those cases, I’ll whisper, “I’ll put it on your tongue.” 

And this is the reason: it really isn’t reverent 

to try to juggle the Holy Eucharist with one hand, 

particularly when you are carrying a child.

Also, if you are receiving in the hand, please lift your hands high. 

That’s both very reverent: lifting Jesus up! It’s also practical.

If you are receiving on the tongue, this is going to sound funny, but:

You really do have to put out your tongue –

I’m not a dentist, I really don’t want to go IN there!

And whichever way you receive, it’s important to remain still.

Many of our younger parishioners are kind of rushing.

Parents, maybe you can help them remember these things?

I’ve told this story before, but it’s too good not to repeat it.

Father Randall Roberts was an United States Air Force chaplain 

in Saudi Arabia where, he explains, 

“any public Christian activity is punishable by imprisonment.” 

When he was going to offer Mass for American soldiers 

who were stationed in Saudi, soldiers would spread the word.

Because of the laws against any sort of Christianity,

Father Roberts had to celebrate Mass in a “remote area”

In this case, an abandoned recreation shack 

encircled by a chain-link fence.

Now, it happens there are many millions of foreign workers 

in Saudi Arabia – and a large number of them are Christians.

One of these foreign workers walked by; 

and when he realized Mass was underway, 

he “pressed himself against the other side of the fence.”

Here’s what Father Roberts saw:

He appeared to be straining his whole body – or at least his heart – 

through the chain-link fence, like water through a filter…

The sheer ecstasy in his face from being present 

at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass – though not able to move closer – 

is an image that will be indelibly etched in my heart until I die.

I wasn’t there, but now, I will never forget that image.

And I hope you won’t, either.

What a gift we’ve been given!

May God give us the gift of loving the Mass, and the Holy Eucharist, 

like that poor man, and the many millions like him, 

who are starving for what is so easy and available for us.

C.S. Lewis, Cicadas and the Holy Trinity (Sunday homily)

 

Maybe you are like me: you like to read news and opinion items online.

Also, I confess that I spend more time 

surfing for such things than I really need to. 

The result – for me, and maybe for you – 

is that sometimes we get too caught up in negativity and worry.

There’s a lot of negativity out there right now, don’t you think?

Folks who are unhappy with political trends, 

disillusioned with sports teams and the entertainment media,

and disappointed in how some of our bishops handle things.

These concerns are real: I’m not dismissing them.

However: there’s a need for perspective.

The author C.S. Lewis wrote a book called The Great Divorce, 

in which he imagines taking a trip from hell to heaven.

When he’s in hell, it seems like a vast city, miles and miles.

When he and others ride a bus up and out, 

that vast city turns out to be a tiny little speck and shadow of dirt, 

compared to the blinding brilliance of heaven. 

You’ll see the same thing in the Bible:

Humans build this great big tower in the city of Babel, 

they are so impressed! 

When God hears of it, he has to stoop WAY down to take a look!

In the Book of Revelation, there’s all this furious activity on earth,

people who are trying to overthrow God’s reign,

but in heaven, everything is calm and peaceful;

and when the final conflict comes, it’s over IMMEDIATELY.

By the way, how many times have you ever seen a TV show or movie, 

or read a book that is all about the End of the World,

and it’s told in the most lurid, frightening way?

People don’t read the Bible closely enough.

From a purely human point of view, it is a big deal;

But from Heaven’s point of view? 

All this storm and excitement is next to nothing, over and done, 

and then real life, the the life Jesus came to give, begins. 

We’ve just been through the Easter season, last week Pentecost, 

and today we focus on the Holy Trinity.

That’s a big subject, but I think there’s a way we can keep this simple.

God stooped down from heaven, becoming one of us – 

coming down into our lives, to bring us into the life of God.

One of the best expressions of this is so simple and routine, we miss it: 

and that is when you and I make the Sign of the Cross. 

We begin Mass with it and we end with it. 

You do it with holy water when you enter and leave.

Notice what we do: we say, 

“In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” 

as we mark ourselves with the Cross.

Here’s what that means:

Jesus came to bring you and me into the life of the Trinity;

The Cross is what puts us there; being baptized puts us there.

When you and I follow Jesus as our Lord and Savior,

then we are “surrounded,” as it were, with Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

How amazing is it that God made it the Cross that puts us there?

The Cross was an act of unspeakable cruelty and ugliness and injustice.

So we look around and we see things that are wrong – 

and that’s real, you’re not mistaken! – then, remember, that’s the Cross.

God not only sees it, he put himself right there! On the Cross.

And that ugliness not only doesn’t defeat what is good and beautiful,

in a way that never stops leaving us breathless,

that ugliness becomes the heart and center 

of the greatest goodness and beauty of all.

Keep perspective: all the controversies and causes for sadness

are not bigger than the good world our good God has given us.

Look at these silly cicadas who pop out every 17 years.

They’re a nuisance, but they’re harmless and kind of fun.

If you’re a dog, a cat or a bird, 

it’s All-You-Can-Eat Thanksgiving Dinner!

And, it’ll all be behind us soon enough. 

The really amazing thing is, 

those cicadas been doing this for 50 million years. 

Every time they emerge, we humans are worked up about something;

but no matter what, they keep coming back. 

The world keeps going on despite all our drama.

In God’s time and way – not ours – it will all turn to heaven.

One day we will wake up in that Divine Life, that Trinity Life.

Hell is that little speck of a place that won’t accept that happiness.

God goes out to bring us back (Pentecost homily)

 With today being Pentecost, it seems like a good time 

to share a little from St. Thomas Aquinas.

St. Thomas boiled down everything God is doing in his work 

both of creating humanity and even more, in saving us:

into two words: exitus and reditus; 

or, in English, “going out” and “coming back.”

And what Thomas meant was this: God “exits” 

or goes out of himself in creating us; 

the Father gives the Word, and everything comes into existence. 

We exist – this universe exists – 

solely because of this “going out” of God’s will, God’s power 

and above all, God’s love.

But humanity turned away and that brings corruption and decay:

So there is another exitus, another “going out”:

God the Son enters and becomes part of Creation!

That leads to the Cross where God “empties” himself, as it were, surrendering to suffering and death.

But all this is about the reditus, the “going back”; 

the bringing back of creation and specifically, US, to the life of God!

So when Jesus ascends – as we recalled last week – he doesn’t go alone.

Our human nature went with him to heaven.

Where Jesus the head goes, we are promised to follow.

Now we come to Pentecost:

the “going out” of the Holy Spirit, which also means a new creation; 

we human beings are remade.

It the beginning, God breathed life into Adam.

On Pentecost, the Father “breathed” the Holy Spirit, 

into those who have been redeemed by the Son:

these re-created people, together, are “the Church,” 

the Body of Christ, who is the new Adam.

In one way, of course, Pentecost happened once in history;

but in another way, Pentecost happens over and over, 

every time someone is baptized.

And then again, it happens in every Mass.

Do you see what’s up on the ceiling over the altar? A dove.

That signifies that only with an ongoing Pentecost 

does anything really powerful or supernatural happen.

Only when the Holy Spirit goes out from God 

does any sacrament do anything:

and only when the Holy Spirit comes down on this altar,

does bread and wine become the true and real presence of Jesus.

This is a good time to look at the Eucharist,

Because the Eucharist shows us what we are and what we will be.

Bread and wine come to the altar; ordinary bread and wine, not fancy.

At Father Puthoff’s first Mass last week, 

Father Amberger explained that the bread and wine 

we bring to the altar is rather poor, even embarrassing!

But that’s the point: the offering of our own selves is, honestly, 

even more meagre and embarrassing.

You and I come to Mass, maybe we don’t really want to be here;

Maybe we are counting the minutes till we leave, 

Just going through the motions – and yes, I include myself here!

That’s who we are as frail, sinful people: we’re a poor offering!

But God works with that: down comes the Holy Spirit!

As I’m sure you’ve noticed, after the consecration, 

the Body and Blood still have every appearance of bread and wine;

and this can be a challenge to our faith.

What do newly baptized Christians look like?

What do people fresh out of confession act like?

We trust that despite appearances,

the bread and wine truly and really become Jesus.

It’s even harder to see, yet necessary to believe, that similarly,

baptism and absolution in confession and reception of the Eucharist 

and the other sacraments truly make a real change in us.

We live in time and everything happens to us frame-by-frame;

God is eternal, and what seems to take forever to us 

is a blink of the eye for the Holy Trinity.

Parents get an inkling of this when you look at your children and think, 

oh, it was just the other day when they were babies – 

except that “other day” was a year, ten years, 18 years ago!

The Eucharist shows us what you and I are destined to be:

We are brought back into the Holy Trinity;

You and I are transformed into the Body of Christ!

Saint Augustine said, regarding receiving Holy Communion:

“Become what you receive.”

So today we pause to contemplate the work of the Holy Spirit

as He goes out from the Trinity, and renews and recreates everything; 

and we human beings are the primary recipient of this recreation.

No matter who you are, or where you are in your journey…

you may see your sins pile up to heaven;

or you look around at a world that seems spinning out of control…

you may think you haven’t got even a single clue on life or the future;

and you find it impossible to believe 

God can make you into anything worthwhile… 

No matter where you think you are, or how long a journey lies ahead,

the one place you know you are is in the loving gaze of your Father.

God created a beautiful world and put you into it;

then he put himself into you; 

so that you will be brought completely and fully 

into the fullness of God’s own life!

Leaving on a jet plane (Ascension + Confirmation homily)

I want to talk about the sacrament of confirmation today;

But we’re recalling the Ascension – so what’s the connection?

Well, it’s easier when you and I clear away the wrong ideas 

about the Ascension and get straight what’s going on.

A lot of the focus is, “Jesus gets to go back to heaven. Good for him!”

But that misses the point. Jesus in heaven is good for US. Why?

Remember, Jesus has made us part of him.

What did we hear just the other day? 

“I am the Vine, you are…the branches”:

We’re the body, he’s the head. We’re one with him.

There are plenty of times we find that hard to grasp;

And when you and I don’t act like we’re part of Jesus.

But that is what our Faith is, that’s what it is all about.

Therefore, where he goes, we go. He brings us along.

So the Ascension is not, “Bye Jesus, see you at the end of the world!”

But rather, Jesus says, “Let’s finish the trip: all aboard!”

So with that in mind, how does confirmation fit in?

Let’s keep going with the “going on a trip” analogy.

You get on an airplane, they check your ticket, right? 

That’s baptism: baptism puts you on the plane.

It’s a long flight, so they’ll feed you:

But this airplane food is the best: the Holy Eucharist!

What do they say when you get in your seat and about to take off?

Buckle your seat belt, right? Why? It may be bumpy. You’ll be OK.

And that’s confirmation! 

Confirmation lets you know: you’re where you belong, you’re solid.

Actually, confirmation does even more.

It unlocks the gifts and power of the Holy Spirit in each of us,

so that whatever our role on that airplane, we’ll have what we need.

Maybe you’re the pilot or navigator; or one of the flight attendants…

Maybe that’s what I am! I come around to see if you’re OK;

I give you the Holy Eucharist; if you’re feeling sick I anoint you!

Even as a passenger on the plane, you have a job to do.

Have you ever had to calm another passenger?

If there’s an emergency, you’re a doctor, you’re a nurse, you’re a priest:

They need your skills and your calm and your courage.

Confirmation is that sacrament that says, 

you’re part of the team, you’re ready to do your part.

Now, the good news is that on Jesus Airlines, the plane will get there! 

There are bumps and detours and complaints 

and the passengers don’t always behave well.

Nevertheless, the plane will get there.

Confirmation is all about empowering each of us to do our part.

God's messy icon (Sunday homily)

 I want to start by talking about art – like a portrait or a mosaic; 

or, to use a term I’ll come back to in a moment, an icon.

What I’m describing is more than a snapshot or reproduction.

I can take a photo of you – click, done! Pretty simple. One dimension.

But art – whether with a camera or brush or chisel or something else – 

brings discovery of hidden depths 

and reveals something always there but not seen at first glance.

This is why really beautiful and profound art can seize our attention: 

it leads us into something bottomless in meaning: we stare and stare.

So with that in mind, let me quote something Pope Francis said 

in his encyclical, Amoris Laetitia: 

“The couple that loves and begets life is a true, living icon…

capable of revealing God the Creator and Savior.”

This is a point Pope Saint John Paul II also made:

the family is an icon of the Holy Trinity. 

As awesome as all Creation, the stars of the universe are,

only the human being is made in the, quote, “image and likeness” of God; 

and that image and likeness is most fully revealed, 

not in a solitary human being, 

but when a man and woman are in communion; in a relationship. 

In a word, “family”; which begins with the couple, but – 

now circling back to Pope Francis’ words, 

a couple that “loves and begets life.”

Because a couple that doesn’t love, and isn’t open to life,

is not an icon at all, but the opposite: if you will, an “anti-icon” of God.

Last week I said I was going through each sacrament, so:

this week it is matrimony.

And while this Gospel isn’t focused on marriage, it sure applies:

Because when Jesus talks about love, 

he’s talking about, first, the divine love of the Trinity – 

Father, Son and Holy Spirit – 

and this love reaching out to humanity 

and drawing us up into that divine love and life of God himself.

That’s what Jesus is saying: “as the Father loves me” – 

that’s divine love – “so I love you” – 

Jesus, coming down to our level, and catches us up into that divine love.

And then, if it’s totally clear yet, he says:

This love – human-becoming-divine love, is how we love one another.

Do you have a pet? You love your pet? 

That love is real; but try as you might, 

you can’t lift that faithful companion up to the human level.

And as real as the gap is between us and our pets, 

it’s nothing compared to the infinite distance between us and God.

You and I are not God’s “pets”! 

That would be a lot easier: we get fed, have fun, but no responsibility.

But that’s not God’s plan for us:

you and I are to be lifted up into the full reality of God’s own life.

We don’t have to understand what that means;

only take Jesus at his word that he has nothing less than that for us.

So we come back to the family.

Human beings made in God’s image:

we’re a receptacle, if you will, waiting for the Holy Spirit, 

to bring us all the way into that fullness of life.

And the icon that God painted is the family: father, mother, children.

That’s the lovely account; but we know the less-beautiful reality:

family life isn’t idyllic; 

couples do not endlessly gaze dewy-eyed at each other!

So how can married life be that icon?

And that’s the transformation that grace brings.

Grace is God’s life, poured into our lives, to make us like God;

and don’t be fooled by the pretty language:

grace is messy and painful and sloooow!

So if you find your own, personal journey of grace frustrating?

Fear not! That’s just it works. and the same with family, only moreso.

The struggles – of couples to stay in love, to deepen their love, 

and of parents, trying to be generous in welcoming children – is real.

Holy Matrimony is the messiest of sacraments!

There are so many possible points here, but time won’t allow it.

But first, however challenging, how can this icon of divine love – 

which a couple is – not be about life? So: it’s man and woman. Period.

And, how can that icon not be open to life? 

We use this euphemism, we call it “protection,” right?

Protection from what? From LIFE. 

Another point: isn’t it obvious that 

married couples can’t just coast through,

and – this is hard to say – must not harden their hearts to each other.

God’s destination is indeed beautiful, 

but we all know what ugliness can happen along the way.

And the message here is not – I repeat, IS NOT – 

that one spouse is obliged simply to put up with ugliness and cruelty.

Sometimes things get broken; and we don’t know how to fix them: because we aren’t God. 

That brings us to the Cross. Thank God for the Cross!

The Cross is for all those people 

who have messes that are, let’s say, “un-clean-up-able”;

whose wreckage seems unsalvageable:

because on the Cross, Jesus’ wounds aren’t “fixed,” right? He dies!

They kill him and that seems to be the end. Defeated. Done. Final.

No! He dies but rises again. And notice: he still has his wounds!

So I confess I do not know how some family struggles get healed.

But here’s what you and I both know is true: the Cross is our hope!

In the words of St. Francis, “in dying we are born to eternal life!”

And it is the very messiness of the sacrament of marriage and family that this truth is revealed.

Each of us enters life in a family – and it’s messy;

from the very first moment, and all the way through: messy!

But God chose this reality as the icon that manifest 

how his Divine Love enters and overcomes and transforms.

Thank you mothers; thank you couples, for being the icon of hope!

Jesus with us is the ultimate healing (Sunday homily)

 You may not have noticed, but every Sunday since Easter, 

we’ve looked at a different sacrament. 

Baptism on Easter; Confession on Divine Mercy Sunday. 

The Holy Eucharist a week later, 

when our second graders made their First Communion. 

Last Sunday, Deacon Ethan Hoying 

gave an outstanding homily on Holy Orders. 

And as he explained, bringing the sacraments to God’s People 

is what bishops, priests and deacons are meant to do, 

because the reason men become priests and deacons 

is to get people to heaven; 

and the sacraments are God’s toolbox for getting to heaven.

So now you’re wondering, what’s this week’s sacrament?

When I thought about this Gospel – it speaks of “pruning,” 

which sounds painful, 

and people being cut off from the life of the vine,

that made me think of what happens when we’re ill.

So as you might guess: 

I’m going to talk about the Sacrament of Anointing

Let’s talk about what it’s like to be really sick.

Until you have been there, it’s hard to appreciate 

what a blow it can be when you lose your health.

Not just that you can’t do something or that you feel bad; 

but you’re cut off from others or from your normal routine. 

In fact, you’re cut off from yourself, as you’ve known yourself.

What do people say? “I don’t feel like myself.”

Every kid knows what that’s like to spend several days in bed, 

while you know your friends are swimming 

or playing baseball or riding their bikes. 

Even two or three days of that is torture.

But, at that age, you assume you’ll get back out there sooner or later.

Later in life, at a certain point, you get laid low, and then you wonder: 

will I get back to who I was? 

Losing that sense of yourself can be devastating,

when you suddenly can’t be who you’ve always been.

You can feel as worthless as branch thrown aside to wither.

So it’s really important to hear what Jesus said and let it sink in; 

and doubly, triply important, when you’re sick or weakened by age:

“Without me you can do nothing.”

As important a gift as good health is, that isn’t what gives us value.

What makes you and me count is that Jesus chose us;

Jesus came for us; Jesus died for us; 

Jesus wants you and me to be part of him, now and forever!

The Sacrament of Anointing is meant for those 

who are facing serious illness, serious threats to their life.

Nowhere does the Church say you must wait until your final breaths; 

but that’s often how people think of this sacrament.

That’s how the movies depict it – 

because a priest will give the sacrament of anointing 

even right at the end. Why?

Because this sacrament is intended for healing.

Physical healing is possible – I’ve seen it happen.

So precisely when things are desperate, 

of course we’ll pray for a miracle. That’s what Christians do. 

So one takeaway here, for everyone; please remember this:

Anyone facing a serious illness or condition can be anointed.

By “serious” I mean, a situation that is dangerous, uncertain.

You don’t have to wait and wait. Call me if you want this sacrament.

This sacrament offers healing; the most important healing 

is knowing Jesus is right there with you.

“I am the Vine,” he says: “you are the branches.”

That’s a very comforting thought, isn’t it? 

Especially when you put that together with the Cross;

Because it means he’s where we are.

You’re in trouble: he’s there; you’re sick, he’s with you.

If you’re dying – and that day lies ahead for everyone – 

You are not alone!

What does Jesus want? “Remain in me,” he tells us.

That is what our Faith is all about.