The prophet's choice (Sunday homily)

The people reflected in the readings wanted a prophet—
someone who would speak with authority for God—
and maybe we might like to have a prophet in our time as well?

You realize we actually do have such a prophet?
The Church has the role of prophet in our world today.

Our Lord himself founded the Church,
and poured out his Holy Spirit
to guide the Church with assurance—
even, as needed, with “infallibility”—
meaning, the Church cannot, and will not, err,
when teaching about Christ and how to live for Christ.

So the Church, as a whole—all of us—is prophet to the world.
Each of us, by our baptism has a share in this prophetic role.

This is why it matters that you and I are spiritually active:
why be faithful in going to confession and Mass?
Why continually seek to grow in our faith?
This is why our Catholic schools are worth sacrificing for.
This is why our religious education program is not an “extra.”
We are prophets: Christ is counting on each of us!

Within the Church, the prophetic role
belongs in a special way to the “teaching office” of the Church—
that is, her bishops, led by the pope,
and assisted by deacons and priests.

Now, you might look to your pastor, or our bishop, or our pope,
and you might shake your head! But it’s always been that way.

We’ve always been men with feet of clay,
with our heads in the sand and our finger in the air.

God could have sent us angels to lead the Church;
instead, he personally chose Twelve, with all their flaws.
Maybe he did that was so it would be clear, from day one,
that the success of the Church was the work of the Holy Spirit.

The story goes that Napoleon threatened to crush the Church—
and a Cardinal [Consalvi] replied,
“If in 1,800 years we clergy have failed to destroy the Church,
do you really think that you'll be able to do it?”

If there are times the Church says things we don’t want to hear,
or are hard to follow—well, that is part of what a prophet does.

It is been a bone of contention, for some,
that I am “too conservative” about teaching the Faith,
or celebrating the Mass.
Now, I admit I am prone to my own biases and flaws, as are we all.
If you are here 50 or 100 years from now,
no pastor will follow me who will be any different.

So, the one thing that can correct for that is
that I submit myself, as much as possible,
to wisdom and authority greater than myself:
the pope, the bishops, the Second Vatican Council,
and the longstanding Tradition of the Church.

But not just me, as your pastor—but all of us.
Our common ground can only be what the Church actually teaches,
and the accumulated wisdom of our whole Tradition.

At times I will cite Vatican II, and someone will say,
“wait, that’s not what I was told.”
Many understandably think it was all settled years ago.

In fact, there are a lot of open questions—
and, yes, some rethinking going on.

If you’ve heard about these four bishops,
who are at odds with the Church,
but who the pope is trying to bring back into the fold:
that’s a big part of what that’s about.

Our pope—who took part in the Council—
has written at length about how best to understand
the Second Vatican Council in the light of our ancient tradition.
Many think—many were told—that the purpose of the Council
was to set aside what was handed down:
“Out with the old, in with the new.”

That’s a misunderstanding,
but it really is what a lot of people were told, or experienced;
and because it is a wrong understanding, it needs to be corrected.
If you want to know what Pope Benedict is about—there it is.
If you want to know what I’m trying to do—there it is.

One of the trials of any prophet
is that she sees what others do not;
He tells others what no one else says.

It happens when the pope teaches us about contraception,
capital punishment, or remembering the poor;
it happens when you and I speak up for Christ in our daily lives.

To be a member of the Body of Christ is—and always has been—
to be “out of sync” with the world around us.

That’s why they fed us to the lions,
why they chucked us into concentration camps,
and why people shake their heads and say,
“your values don’t fit in our world!”

They are right!
Because the world is passing away, but Christ is eternal!
Every culture and every generation thinks it has all the answers;
followed immediately by another culture or generation
that knows better!

This is where we find ourselves, day by day,
This is the choice, at each moment:
The culture or Christ?

The wonders of rice, heat and vicodin

Yesterday I walked over to have lunch with the schoolchildren; unfortunately, I stepped on a wet spot on the floor, my feet came out from under me and I landed squarely on my...prosperity. Ow!

God bless the kids, a bunch came over, "are you all right, Father?" Well, at the moment, I didn't feel like talking much! I just nodded and caught my breath; a couple of the fathers--it being "Catholic Schools Week," parents were having lunch with the children this week--came over and helped me up. I was pretty sore, and after working a couple more hours, I went home and tried some ice on my back. That helped; I had a Pastoral Council meeting that evening, and I made it to that; then headed home again. I remembered I had some vicodin, so I popped one of those. That helped, but it wore off about 3 am...unnh!

But by then I'd realized I hadn't broken anything, it was just soreness; putting on socks, boy was that an adventure! I was in the office a bit today, but am back home now. My secretary reminded me about the "rice pack" she'd given me awhile back--do you know what those are? It's just a bunch of rice, sewn up in a cloth bag. What you do is microwave it for 2-4 minutes, and it's nice and hot...ahhhh!

Of course everyone heard about it, and someone said, oh that much have been embarrassing; well, I suppose, but at the moment, I really didn't think about that! Just as well, I guess.

Anyway, I expect I'll be sore for a few days, but Deo volente, nothing more to worry about.

Conversion of Saint Paul in Piqua

Here's how we did things here, today...

> I had the 7 am and 10:30 am Masses this morning; I was a little slow getting over to the first Mass, so alas I started two minutes late.

> We arranged to have postcards in the pews, which the bishops had provided to parishes, as part of an effort to oppose the so-called "Freedom of Choice Act." The other priests and I explained the postcard effort, and assisted everyone in filling them out during the homily time.

My own preference is not to do this sort of thiinig in a homily, but to present a homily--but I deferred to the bishops on this one, and it is obviously a good cause.

> My homily was about conversion, keying off the readings of course, talking about how each of us experiences conversion, a bit about baptism, a bit about my own conversion experience, and how we all continue to experience conversion; and I talked about being agents of conversion--particularly for our society (lead in to the postcard effort).

> After 10:30 am Mass, Father Tom and I had brunch with the catechists who serve our religious education program, to kick off a time of prayer and reflection for them. The original plan was to have the time of reflection, followed by dinner, but we had to rearrange that. Following the meal, we headed back to St. Mary, where I led a study of Acts 22 (our first reading at Mass), to see what insights we could draw from Paul's conversion, for ourselves. Some nice connections. From there, we went over to church, for a period of exposition and prayer; I invited the catechists to reflect on anything we discussed, but perhaps especially on how God might be at work in their lives for ongoing conversion--and how they might make conversion meaningful for the children we're serving. Then back to the meeting room for a talk by Father Tom, on some of the things St. Paul teaches us that make an impact on us today. We finished up around 4 pm.

> Next up: the Life Teen youth group's "BBQ in the Snow"--this year we actually have snow for it (boo!)--that starts around 6:30 pm, and I'll stop by for that.

> After that, I hope to get together with the artist who is headed into town to work on the windows at St. Boniface--he's driving in from Wisconsin, and is due around 7 pm.

Back from the March for Life

My whirlwind trip to the nation's capital is over. Left right after Mass Wednesday morning, hit DC around 5, dinner with my nephew, his wife and their son, then met up with a couple of Cincinnati priests downtown. Up for Mass at the Verizon Center with Archbishop Wuerl and everyone else--that's a combination "youth rally" plus Mass--then the seminarians from Cincinnati and I had lunch on the way to the march, then I found the Lehman Catholic group and we hung out a bit until we got marching. Started the Rosary, prayed all 20 decades, with help from Fathers Earl Fernandes and James Reutter--Father Jason Bedel was going to lead some of the mysteries, but he got way ahead of us, so that didn't work out. We ran out of mysteries before the march ended, so I'm thinking about five or ten new mysteries to suggest to Pope Benedict (next time I see him!).

Our parishes' coordinator of religious education and youth ministry drove back with me--he came up on the Lehman bus, all night. We decided to get something to eat before we left around 6 pm, and because it took forever to get out of DC at that hour--traffic was gummed up all the way up I-270 until it met I-70, in Frederick, Maryland!--we didn't get home until 3 am.

After sleeping a little later, I feel just fine, back in the office, and thankfully, not too much stuff piled on my desk.

The March is the same every year, except its numbers rise and fall; they were higher, I'm sure--I have a hard time gauging the crowd from my vantage-point--because of the election results. I was glad that very little of the signage or chanting was antagonistic to our new president--I think that is counterproductive, especially on his second day in office. I'm not saying there can't be the normal rough-and-tumble of politics, but I do not want to see President Obama "paid back" with a vitriole similar to what was visited on President George Bush. And it's practical--how does alienating tens of millions of African-Americans, who otherwise agree with us, help our cause?

A small matter: I noticed that the Obama White House waited until after the march--judging by press reports--to raise the spectre of changes in executive orders on abortion. Everyone knew it was coming; it might have happened the day he was inaugurated, which--if memory serves--is what President Bill Clinton did. Instead, the Obama folks chose to wait just a little bit, and not grind prolifers' noses into it. (CORRECTION: I just read, via a link at Rich Leonardi's "Ten Reasons," that President Obama signed an abortion-related order on Thursday, sorry I'd missed that report.)

Another matter--I read at the Washington Post today that "Federal regulators have approved the first experiment testing human embryonic stem cells on people, officials announced today." Connected to President Obama? Well, the article adds, "While the timing of the FDA approval led some to speculate that the two moves were related, Geron's work had not been restricted by the ban. The cells being used by the company were derived from leftover embryos at fertility clinics before the ban was implemented in 2001."

I realize a lot of prolifers are very negative about the near-term prospects, but I believe things are starting to get better and will continue to get better as we go forward. Prolife activism is going to continue to swell, affecting not only marches in D.C. and federal policy, but policy at the state and local level as well.

This weekend, millions of Mass-goers will be asked to sign postcards to Congress, opposing the so-called "Freedom of Choice" Act; and every indication I have is that while the abortion lobby wants it and will demand it, the White House and Congress know it's becoming more and more politically radioactive. Actually, you and I want a recorded vote on that, because a vote for that extreme legislation will be a huge, political liability for anyone not running in a super-safe seat--especially in the U.S. Senate. We have to do the work--we have to write the letters and sign the petitions--but I'm convinced we can stop that legislation, and just waging the battle will mobilize prolifers, and make us stronger than before.

What I saw at the March tells me we have a lot going for us.

Congratulations Mr. President

A few minutes before Noon, the staff gathered in the office kitchen to watch President Obama take his oath, and then deliver his speech. I am glad I didn't see the tacky way some people received President Bush when he arrived--I think I had just turned on the TV. I hope those on my side, who are not fans of President Obama, do not treat him the same way. Low class.

I was thinking last night about how easily this might not have happened: Hilary Clinton might very easily have won the nomination--to my mind, she really "should" have, in the sense that she had every advantage, and if she'd simply done a few things differently, things she could have foreseen, she'd have won the nomination--and she might well be president today. I think that, had the Iraq War not happened, or if President Bush had come up with the "surge" strategy sooner, Senator Obama might well not have had had the war as an issue, to win the nomination. And of couse, one wonders if McCain might have won, had a thing or two turned out differently.

But here he is, and I, for one, wish him well, even though I will oppose him on so many things he advocates. I am happy for him, as he dances with his wife, enjoying his day; I am very happy that the whole world witnesses something that would not happen in so many places: the barriers and bigotry of the past has been so swiftly swept aside. Not too many years ago, people said it would not happen, and if a black man became president, it would occcasion terrible reactions. In fact, we've all taken it in stride, both white and black. Many of the nations that criticize us--for all things--of not being inclusive and tolerant, surely know that what happened here would never happen in their country; and that includes many of our democratic, enlightened, allies.

Tomorrow morning, after Mass, I'll drive to DC for the March for Life on Thursday. I expect a great turnout as prolifers nationwide get up and get even more active than usual; this weekend, our parishes here will take our part in a nationwide effort to send postcards to Congress opposing the so-called "Freedom of Choice" Act, which is the most extreme pro-abortion legislation you could imagine, which we must now prevent from passing. I think we'll do it: yes, we can!

Meanwhile, let's pray for our new president, to have a change of mind and heart--that he may see that all his good words about lifting people up, and setting people free, should include the unborn.

'You're called to be a "caller"'(Sunday homily)

This past week has been “Vocations Awareness Week.”
These readings today are perfect—
we hear about how God called Samuel,
and how God chose Peter and Andrew.

This past week, I had a visit from a parishioner,
Who wanted to talk about how can do more to promote the deacon program,
as well as lay pastoral ministry.

Perfect timing!

I admitted to her, I’ve done less on these things than I’d like,
so I was glad she brought it up to me.

She had some ideas, and she’s going to get back to me, but—
here’s what I would say to everyone here:

> We have a Vocation Committee,
but it’s small and needs more people.
There are a lot of good things, good resources,
I wish I had more time to work on this,
I’m just swamped these days!
But if you are interested, please give me a call!

My point is, with some more help, I think we can,
this year, start doing a lot more.

> For those thinking about being a deacon—come see me.
I see a lot of men here who would make great deacons.
But I realize it’s a hard call to answer,
with jobs and family concerns.
Each situation is unique, let’s talk about how to do it.

> If you’re specifically interested in promoting
lay pastoral ministry, I think the parishioner
who came to see me, would be interested
in hearing about that. Let me know!
We want to do some things.

In the first reading, did you notice where Samuel was,
when he was called?
He was in the House of the Lord;
yes, sleeping! But still, in God’s House.

When Andrew followed Jesus,
the first thing he did was simply spend time with him.
That means prayer, and confession and the sacraments,
but it also means giving each day to him.
Good for all of us to hear his call.

Now, when we talk about “vocations,” a lot of us are saying,
I’m not going to be a sister or brother or a priest.

I’ve got two things to say to that:
First: I said that too!
Many times I said, “oh no, not for me!”
I spent many years away from the Church,
and was certain I’d never come back to being Catholic.

But God has his way of calling you, “Samuel, Samuel!”
He called me back to our Faith,
and in time, he led me to be a priest, and your pastor.

Not once did He force me.
Not once have I regretted answering the call to be a priest!

So, parents: sometimes you wonder if your sons or daughters
will be happy and fulfilled, in answering this call.
The answer is, if this is for them, then nothing else will!
Parents, please be generous in your encouragement.

But a second point, for those who say you’re not called
to the priesthood, or religious life, is…

OK, but you still called to support that calling in others.
You are still called to help us, as a Church, to draw others.

If we want more priests and deacons and religious,
we must pray for them;
we must support that calling; that is a responsibility for all of us.

In other words, you are called to be a "caller."

That’s why I’ve asked everyone to add, to your grace at meals,
a simple prayer: “please send us more holy priests.”
I ask you to bring this to your holy hours and daily prayers.

Sunday night, we have an opportunity.
At St. Mary, 6-8:30 pm, we’ll have the “Call to the King” Conference—a chance to pray for more vocations,
And to consider if your “calling” is not to be a priest,
but to be a prayer-warrior for others to answer the call.

I ask you to consider two times, in our recent experience,
where we stormed heaven—and heaven answered:

1. Father Tom was a death’s door. You remember?
We prayed, and prayed and prayed. Look at what happened!


2. Every week, St. Boniface prayed for the “Rebuild St. Boniface Fund Drive.”
That thermometer sign in the vestibule didn’t move very much.

Go check it out—it’s moving a lot faster!
We’re going to complete that fund soon!

So there’s a calling to be religious and priests—
but there’s also a calling
to be the one who prays and sacrifices for these things.

I ask that everyone of us answer that call.

“Here am I Lord—I come to do your will.”

The King Calls You to Piqua (bumped)

...Sunday, January 18, AD 2009...

'Call of the King Conference'...

Right here in Piqua, at Saint Mary Church

Exposition of the Most Blessed Sacrament, 6-6:45 pm, led by Father Kyle Schnippel, Vocation Director for the Archdiocese, assisted by other area clergy.

Talks by:

Rev. Earl Fernandes, professor of moral theology at Mount Saint Mary Seminary, and a dynamic young priest...

Rev. Jason Bedel, newly minted priest, will tell his story and how your prayers made a difference...

and Andrew Cordonnier, a fine young seminarian, on his journey.

Refreshments follow at 8:30 pm...

And yours truly will be there as well!

Who should come?

All who want to pray for priestly vocations and for our priests

Anyone thinking about a vocation to the priesthood

See you there!

Sorry I'm typing so slowly...

But, boy, is it cold here!

It was more than 20 degrees below zero hereabouts last night, according to some folks in the office; we found some pipes frozen at the office, and it was a little nippy in St. Mary Church at Mass this morning. And yet a hardy 10-15 folks showed up for Mass, and in my homily, I told them it was edifying to Father Tom (who was concelebrating) and me to see them there when nothing obliged them.

My day started with a finance committee meeting at 7 am--we went over a monthly budget report, and talked about the disposition of some nice donations received before the end of the year. Based on what the donors themselves said, the finance committee feels strongly the funds should be put to building fund needs--either those pending or future.

As some of you know, St. Boniface has had a "Rebuild St. Boniface Fund" drive for about 2 years, aimed at dealing a variety of needs in the school and church. We've accomplished some of them, but we have many more to go. In December, we had a fundraiser "roast and toast" in honor of our 90-year old Father Caserta, and wow, was that successful! We raised over $80,000 from the event, between ticket sales or other gifts and pledges! We said we'd use the proceeds to restore St. Boniface's 107-year-old stained-glass windows, and then, we got a gift of $50,000 toward the project, so all of a sudden, we are in a position to begin the work.

So, this week, I've been working on that, and the project will begin next week.

Down the road, we want to replace windows in the school, replace the pews, deal with weather-caused cracks and deterioration of the church and office exterior, and a number of other things.

It's exciting and it's been something I've been working on for at least two years.

Also today, I went back to the hospital, to bring the Eucharist to someone I visited yesterday--but with a twist: I brought the Precious Blood.

This is unusual, but it is allowed, for those who cannot receive the Eucharist in the form of bread; in this case, the patient had a tracheotomy and could not swallow. So I explained to her, and her family, I could bring the Precious Blood, and put just a tiny amount in her mouth, so that there'd be no issue of swallowing or choking. She was eager to have it.

Here's the thing--one has to plan for it, because it is not allowed to reserve the Precious Blood except for a short time, in anticipation of this situation. So I consecrated a small amount of wine in a eye-dropper, which I keep in the sacristy for this purpose. I realize an eye-dropper doesn't seem very dignified, and I agree, but it's all I've found so far for this purpose. (If anyone knows of something different, let me know.) I chose to use the Mass prayers for a Votive Mass of the Precious Blood, and I explained the whole thing in my homily, both so people would know what I was doing, and also to help spread the word about this: it concerns me that some people mistakenly think they can't receive the Eucharist, because they can't swallow something solid.

So, this afternoon, I headed down to the hospital, and visited the patient, and explained how I'd administer the Eucharist, and assured her that, although it would be a tiny amount, it was Our Lord all the same.

Well, there were a few other routine items, but those were the highlights. It was a light day.

Another day in a pastor's life...

Some events from today...

Hit the office around 9 am--since I don't come in on Mondays, I had plenty waiting for me. A lot of mail to open and then direct to various folks.

I had to meet a family to prepare for a funeral--the man who died Saturday night--but I had to get some things done in the office first. I usually don't meet with the families myself, although I like doing it; but in anticipation of the day, perhaps not far away, when I will be the only priest here, I decided to recruit and train some parishioners who could do this. But this time, I did it. So I got my list of music suggestions, which I had the music director prepare some time back, and headed over the family home.

We spent about an hour, going over readings, and I explained the way the funeral would go. We went over possible music choices; the family didn't ask for too many things, I explained the meaning of the In Paradisum which is the normative hymn for the procession with the body to the cemetery, so they chose that; they also liked the idea of the Sanctus and Agnus Dei in Latin, and they chose black vestments, after I explained the meaning of the options of purple, white and black. Then I asked them to tell me about the man who died, as I didn't know him well, but I explained that the homily is mainly about our Faith, and how Christ acted in the life of the one who died.

Back to the office around Noon, I think, and back to my desk. I got a few things together for the penance service tonight, for the children receiving the sacrament the first time (in preparation for first reception of the Eucharist), and I answered various emails, took a number of calls, signed checks, and opened mail. I had a big pile on my desk and worked on it somewhat. I had a meeting at 2:30 pm with the chairman of our stewardship commission--the purpose of which is to encourage involvement and inculcate a mindset in the parishes that fosters gratitude and a sense of mission, among other things. We were planning a survey we will provide for all parishioners, we hope in February.

I left that meeting around 4:30, and was on my way to the funeral home for the prayers, and I was thinking about my homily at the penance service. I remembered the Gospel was Luke 15, about the lost sheep; and the next parable is the lost coin (and then the lost son, aka the "prodigal" son); so I had an idea for my homily, and turned around and headed to the bank, where I bought ten gold, dollar coins.

Then to the funeral home, where I talked briefly with those who would bring the gifts forward, and the reader, then prayed the prayers with the family. Then I headed home to prepare my homily; at which point, I re-discovered that the coins in Luke 15 weren't gold, but were drachmae, which were silver! Ah well, no one else would know that!

As I'm waiting in the sacristy for the other priests, the coordinator of religious education advised me our retired priest was on his way to Columbus, to visit someone very sick. Oops, I bet he won't make it--five priests scheduled, now four. I explained to the other priests how things would go, and we began the service at 7 on the dot.

Simple service, using one of those Haugen settings of the 23rd psalm--which isn't appropriate for use as the responsorial psalm because it's not a proper translation--as the opening hymn. Seems like a good use to put them to, particularly at a Penance Service. Readings, Gospel, homily. In my homily I talked about the value of the sheep, the value of a coin--about a day's wages--and the most valuable thing is what Jesus goes looking for, us. "This sacrament doesn't make sense if we've never had the experience of being lost, if we've never felt our sins put distance between us and God; but for the rest of us who have been lost, Jesus has found us, right here!" Jesus comes to us, I explained, in the person of the priest. I also recalled baptism, and--keying off Psalm 51, which was our psalm response--the joy given us in the Holy Spirit, and this is restored in this sacrament.

One of the catechists led us in an examination of conscience, then I told everyone where the priest's would be. By that point, the retired priest had shown up! Deo gratias! FYI, every child had the option of confessing anonymously, and all the adults were encouraged to come, which is why five priests was important--they might hold back otherwise.

It was about 8 when I brought things to a close, at which point I blessed the rosaries each of the children had been given, and I greeted everyone I could afterward. Back here by about 8:30 pm, had my dinner, and now I'm writing this post.

It's all good...

It's been a tiring week.

Monday I went into the office, surprising my staff; but I'd been out of the office a lot the prior two weeks, and I needed to catch up--which I did, to some degree.

One of the reasons I try to plough through the mess on my desk and keep it somewhat manageable, is because so many things come to me unexpectedly. Such as the last week or so--Saint Boniface received some unexpected gifts that will really help; and as a result, I was able to move ahead on restoring our stained-glass windows, which are over 100 years old, and deteriorating. Thanks to some generous donations, we will be able to bring them back to pristine shape over the next two years or so. So this week, part of my time was spent finalizing the plans for that, advising Pastoral Council since it involves a significant expenditure, and getting things in motion.

One of the tasks was to call all the couples planning weddings this year, to let them know this was going to happen, in case they wanted to shift their wedding to St. Mary.

Friday, I spent part of the day at the store, buying supplies for a dinner party Saturday evening; I have dinner for the parish staff every year at this time; this year, I didn't have the funds to take them out as before, so I prepared dinner for them. For those interested, the menu was:

With drinks, for appetizers we had:

Shrimp cocktail (okay, I mean I had a tray of shrimp with cocktail sauce)
Crudites (cut up vegetables)
Asagio cheese with pepperoni (and crackers)
Chips & dip

Then dinner:

Tossed salad
Roast Beef
Lasagna
Homemade mashed potatoes
Green Beans Piqua Style (hereabouts they make them with stewed tomatoes, very tasty)
Rolls and butter

For dessert:

Cheesecake with assorted toppings
Cut up fresh fruit
Coffee

In case you are wondering what I actually made, I made the lasagna, but not the sauce; I mashed the potatoes, using both red and Idaho potatoes and leaving the skins on; I did not cut up the vegetables or the fruit, I let Kroger do that; the sisters prepared the green beans; I got the cheesecake also at Kroger.

Everything turned out fairly well--but I started things too early, and the lasagna and roast were finished way ahead of time; so everything had to be kept warm. Thankfully, it wasn't overdone.

Well, then, after all that, I was still up around midnight, and was about to head to bed, when the phone rang. It was the police dispatcher; the police had been called to a home and a priest was needed. No details, other than that someone had died. The dispatcher gave me a number; I called; it was busy. So for almost the next hour or so, I kept calling; it was busy. Finally, I got through; yes, they wanted me to come.

Well, I was wondering what the situation would prove to be; as it turned out--without going into details--it was relatively straightforward and I was able to pray with the family and for the deceased. But it was about 2 am when I got back; then up this morning for 7 am Mass.

At 9 am Mass, we welcomed five catechumens and had a ritual as part of Mass for them, signing them with the sign of the cross, and presenting them with crucifixes. The feast day was well suited for this, as I spoke about baptism. Sorry I don't have a text; I had some ideas I worked with, it's just been that way lately.

What's going on...

Today has been fairly busy, here's what I've been up to...

> up at 6 am to get ready for 7 am Mass. I had to start a little earlier, because I was preparing breakfast for folks at St. Boniface Parish, following 10:30 am Mass, having done the same for St. Mary folks last week; I had some stuff to bring from one parish to the other, and I had meant to do it before this morning, but there it is.

> The stuff needed for breakfast sat in my car during Mass, then after 7 am Mass I took it into the cafeteria, and did some prep work for breakfast later: got out post and filled them with water (for cooking the scrambled eggs: you can get eggs, yes, real eggs, frozen, in bags, which you boil; the eggs scramble nicely, and then you serve them), and the trays for the sausages to bake, and the coffee pot, and some other items. I'd also picked up donuts on the way to Mass, which I now put out. A parishioner who was helping would start cooking the eggs around 10 am, then I'd be back around 10:15, after the 9 am Mass, to get the rest ready.

> Off to 9 am Mass, with a stop at Tim Hortons for a cup of coffee and some donuts. (FYI--while the priest is obliged to keep the fast, same as you, he is not obliged to keep the fast between Masses; I find if I don't eat something at this point, I sometimes get lightheaded.)

> 9 am Mass at St. Mary was "high": lots of incense and chant, including the Eucharistic Prayer (Roman of course). A little side-note and benefit related to chanting at Mass. Some folks don't like it, think it's excessive. This Mass often has little children who, naturally, will cry or wail; and for whatever reason, not all parents can always silence them, or choose to take them out. And let's be candid--some of us might be able to tune it out, but no one finds a wailing baby edifying. Such was the case today: not one, but two, just as we were singing the "Sanctus." Well, as I began chanting the Roman Canon, the babies quieted down and all was silent during the prayer. Any opinions or observations on this point?

> Right after Mass, I visited with some folks; a couple wanted to talk to me about marking their 60th Anniversary at a Mass in February, and we made tentative plans.

> Had to run back over to St. Boniface to get things ready for breakfast, starting around 11:30 am (after 10:30 am Mass); my helper had started the eggs and coffee, I sent him to Mass, and I took care of the sausages and the rest of the prep work. A parishioner came by to help, and all went smooth.

> Folks started showing up around 11:20, folks who'd been at one of the other Mases; we had about 120 folks in total, and the only negative was not enough donuts and juice, but plenty of sausage and eggs. We had to make another pot of coffee, but folks stayed around a bit to help drink it. This is the secondary reason I started these breakfast--i.e., to build community; first was as my Christmas gift to the people of the parishes.

> Around Noon, the last few folks were leaving, and my various helpers assisted me with cleanup and putthing things back. It was around 1 pm when all was put back in good order. We had some eggs left over, still in the bag, which I sent home with one of my helpers who has a family. I took some back with me as well.

> Arriving back at St. Mary, I saw the retired priest's car still in the parking lot, meaning he was still in church; so I stopped in, laden down with my bags of eggs! I know, why didn't I take them into my kitchen first? I didn't want to miss him, I wanted to see if he needed any help, and I had some good news to share. (Sorry, I"m not telling you before I tell the parishes, but it concerns some end-of-year giving.) Turns out Father was talking and praying with someone, so I waited for him. Eventually, he finished up, and we chatted a bit.

> I got back home around 2 pm, and sat down to write this post and the last one.

Epiphany homily

My homily today was as follows (from memory, I did not have written notes):

> What does 'Epiphany' mean? It means manifestation, making-known, moment of understanding--that's how we use the term: to have an "aha" moment where everything comes together.

> Why does the Church have this feast? (Pointing to the creche) Last week you saw the shepherds here; now the kings are here; the Lord was born, and only Mary, Joseph and the shepherds were witnesses. This week, we celebrate the arrival of the Magi--who were not Jewish; this is the feast of the Nations coming to worship.

> This fulfills what we heard about in the Scriptures. The Jewish people had a good thing going: they had a relationship with the one, true God, while the rest of the world worshipped idols of wood and stone. The prophets said, one day all the world would come to know God; as we sang in the psalm: "Lord, every nation on earth will adore you." It was a prophecy, but also a challenge: God's people had a task to share their faith. When the Magi arrived, it was the beginning of what would happen: the nations would come to know Jesus.

> Most of us are not Jewish; we are from "the nations" who were given the Faith. My ancestors were German, running around the Black Forest, worshipping oak trees, until St. Boniface came and brought Christ to them; the same for all of us.

> Today, around the circuit of the earth, the Mass will be celebrated at every hour, in every language and culture; what the psalm said has come true: "Lord, every nation on earth will adore you."

> But still many people do not know the Lord; so the task God's People had from the prophets, is still ours: to share our Faith. In the coming year, this is our task, to share the treasure of our faith with our community. We have a lot to share! We have faith, we have mercy and reconciliation, we have Life in Christ! We have the Eucharist! As we share our Faith, our treasure, with this community where God has planted us, we will see more people come to know the Lord; we will help bring about what the Scripture said: "Lord, every nation on earth will adore you."

Please bail me out of jail...

...in order to benefit the Muscular Dystrophy Association.

On Thursday, January 8, A.D. 2009, I'll be in "jail" at Gover's Harley-Davidson in Piqua, Ohio, from Noon to 1 pm.

"Bail" is $800; either that or I guess they keep me!

If you want to take part, you can do so by going to this site.

As you know, many people suffer from this debilitating disease, and research continues on it. Your donation will help send kids to camp, provide leg braces and wheelchairs, and above all, support progress for a cure.

Thanks for your help!

Most of the decorating is finished

Thanks to the seminarian who's visiting this weekend, the Christmas Tree now has ornaments on it; and we finally got the nativity scene put up in the dining room. You can laugh at me, it's okay, but I really do hold that Christmas is only part-way along, certainly not over. So I explained that at the end of Mass, when I wished everyone Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas!

God's Idea of the Family (Sunday homily)

I remember hearing this first reading as a teenager…
One of things I didn’t understand
was just how hard my parents had to work.
Only as an adult did I realize what an ungrateful brat I was at times!
We always had plenty—yet we would complain
if we didn’t have the finest things—none of which we needed.

Now as a grown man, a pastor and spiritual father,
it’s my turn to provide for a household,
and to make decisions, and sometimes say "no,"
and have members of the family be unhappy about that.

Parents, no doubt you find it hard at times
to say "no" to your children?
It’s tempting to let them have what they ask for,
because maybe it buys a measure of peace?

I think of that because of another question the readings raise—
and this is a delicate issue—
it has to do with what used to be a Catholic idea of the family—
an idea that, honestly, is vanishing.

We Catholics used to be known for large families—
But now, families with four or five children are unusual,
and considered large.
Some—under their breath—say, "too large."

It is part of our Catholic Faith
that couples reject artificial means of planning families.
It is part of our Faith that God gave us a gift
that leads us to love someone in a special way,
and that giving life is intrinsically bound up with that gift of love,
and what God has put together—lovemaking and lifegiving—
we have no authority or right to separate.

But let’s be candid—most Catholics ignore
what the Church teaches about natural family planning.
Many think it’s optional, or not a major teaching.
I’m sorry to say that’s not so.
This is something that goes back to the beginning of the Church,
and it is rooted in the Bible and our Jewish origins.

And it’s important because it goes to the core of who we are:
made in the image and likeness of God.

As creative as we can be,
we can never make anything out of nothing.
But there is one moment we are most God-like:
when a couple comes together,
and cooperating with God, a new human being begins to exist!

But again, let’s be candid—this teaching seems out of step.

Many parents rightly say,
they find raising one, two or three children more than enough challenge,
they cannot imagine going further.

Understood—but whatever the challenge,
we always say that, don’t we?
Abraham and Sarah might have said the same thing:
leaving the only home they knew, going to a distant land,
and then believing they could be parents in their old age.

Don’t we say the same
when our older parents need more and more care;
when someone is in trouble, and we must come to their rescue.
My resources won’t stretch that far—and yet, somehow, they do.

Above all, we must confront a mindset that sees children—people!
as a burden, rather than a blessing.

That’s the drumbeat we’ve heard for decades:
from government and the media:
too many people—that’s the problem.

Guess what? Now our leaders are starting to admit,
maybe they were….wrong.

Leaders in Russia, Europe, Japan, yes, even China!,
and many other countries—are all coming to grips with a problem
they admit will be huge very soon: too few babies!

People ask: why don’t we have more children in school?
More people in our city—in our pews?
People fear for the future of Social Security.

Despite all this, this mindset—people are a burden—
still gets a lot of play, now in connection to the environment.

It is right to be good stewards of our environment,
yet we must confront this flawed thinking,
that sees only a mouth to be fed,
rather than a head and hands and heart
that can and will make the world better.

Think about it: in Abraham’s time, a man plowed his plot,
with the help of an ox, and maybe could feed his own family.

Today—thanks to the creativity God gave us,
a farmer uses a tractor, and electricity, and many other helps,
and plow vast acres of ground, and feeds a whole town of people.
But who invented the tractor and harnessed the electricity,
and all the other advances that spread food worldwide?

If this mindset—people are the problem—were true,
then why should God have even come to save us—
if we’re more trouble than we are worth?
Why, for that matter, even create us?

As Christians, we see a child,
born to a poor couple, in troubled times,
and we see not a burden—but our Savior!

Our Savior saw a human family,
so many squabbling, fighting children,
not as a burden, but those for whom he would give his life.
He gave his all—to his last breath—
that we might be born to eternal life.

Aren’t we glad that God never said—
I don’t want too many children?
Rather, in the Eucharist, he said:
"This is body…this is my blood…given for you."

Piqua Christmas

I hope you are having a merry Christmas!

As some may have inferred, this year I did not get sick, Deo gratias, as in past years. I had a very fine Christmas Eve and Day, and everything seems to have come together.

Kudos to our musicians all, who did very well at all the Masses I was part of. At 4 pm, we had the children, and they sang very strongly, and were a blessing; at Midnight, the music was transcendent. We had some lovely pieces before Mass; then, at the stroke of midnight, the schola sang the proper Introit for Midnight, in Latin:

A: Dominus dixit ad me: Filius meus es tu, ego hodie genui te.
V. Quare fremuerunt gentes: et populi meditate sunt inania?
A. Dominus . . .
V. Astiterunt reges terræ, et principes convenerunt in unum adversus Dominum, et adversus Christum eius.
A. Dominus . . .
V. Postula a me, et dabo tibi gentes hereditatum tuam, et possessionem tuam terminus terræ.
A. Dominus . . .

This is from Psalm 2 (not Ps. 110 as I vainly imagined). My rough English translation:
Ant: The Lord said to me, 'You are my son; this day I have begotten you.
V. Why do the nations rage, and the people imagine a vain thing?
V. Kings on earth rise up and princes plot together against the LORD and his anointed:
V. Ask it of me, and I will give you the nations as your inheritance, and your possession the ends of the earth.

If memory serves, the schola chanted but the antiphon; I'm not sure; I was loading up the incense at that point.
Then we sang "O, Come, All Ye Faithful," and then after the altar, cross and crib were incensed, and after the Sign of the Cross (sung), I sang the Christmas proclamation from the Roman Martyrology: "On the 25th day of December..." I chanted the Gospel (and I would love to have cantors chant the first and second readings someday--it would help people realize the psalm response is not merely another song, but a proclamation of the Word of God); I chanted the Roman Canon etc.; the schola also sang the proper communion chant, "In Splendoribus":

Ant. In splendoribus sanctorum, ex utero ante luciferum genui te.
V. Dixit Dominus Domino meo: Sede a dextris meis: donec ponam inimicos tuos scabellum pedum tuorum.

This is Psalm 110: "In the splendor of holiness, from the womb, before the dawn I begot you. The Lord said to my Lord, sit on my right, your foes I put beneath your feet."

I hope you can see why this psalm--and psalm 2--are so important to use at this point; and why our music director and I think it is so good to use them. If there were a really suitable English version, that would be good to use as well.

Christmas, 9 am Mass came early for me, as I didn't get to bed until almost 3 am; I'm always keyed up after Midnight Mass. After the morning Mass, I sat down for breakfast, and as I was finishing up, I got a call to the hospital for someone dying. After I got back from the hospital--and a side trip to the jail to visit someone there--I was happy not to have anything else I needed to do.

One point of Mass, last night, moved me more than I expected. Before we began the Creed, I explained that we kneel for the words, "and became Man," and so when that time came, and we all knelt--and I heard everyone kneeling--it really hit me; I hope others found it as moving as I did.

Today--back to work: a funeral this afternoon, a wedding rehearsal tonight, plus I got sad news about another death in the parish this morning and had a visit to make to that family.

But that is the world into which God chose to be born!

'Will there be room in us, for the Light to remain?' (Christmas homily)

A few days ago, in Germany, a priest went into his church to pray.
The church was decorated for the season,
as ours has been, the past few days—
including a nativity scene all set up, ready for Christmas.

He was praying, and suddenly he heard a sound—
the sound of a baby, crying—it came from the manger.

The priest covered the child to keep him warm,
and called an ambulance.
An investigation found a woman, a poor immigrant,
who had recently given birth,
and had left the child in the church’s crib,
hoping someone could care for the boy.

Every year, we prepare our church in a familiar way;
the nativity scene is all set up, and at the Mass on Christmas Eve,
we place the bambino in the crib—
but what if we—like that priest—found a baby already there?

What might that child look like?
What color would he or she be? What culture and background?

Of course, we would care for the child, feed and clothe her;
we would try to find a home.

This Christmas arrives, a little colder and darker—
and I don’t mean the weather.
There are always women, like that woman in Germany,
who need our help;
this year, there seem to be even more.
The children may not be placed here;
we will find them elsewhere.
We will find them on our streets, at the Bethany Center;
we will find them among our own family and friends,
and they won’t be children, but adults. People who need our care.

Another reason Christmas
may seem a little darker and colder this year
is because of a certain cynicism,
a world-weariness, in our culture.
On top of all the other cares of war and terror,
add bank failures, political failures,
and an economy that is cold and chill as well.
We don’t need any more mouths to feed!

And there is one more bit of chill—a chill on the faith of many.
We all know people who have drifted away;
there is a rising chorus, in the media, in the culture,
that mocks the values of faith and decency—
marriage is anything you want it to be,
all that matters is the choice I get to make!

On this dark night,
with a different darkness at work in our world,
we might wonder about the Light
that the Scriptures boast about.
We might even wonder, we might whisper:
is it true—or is it too good to be true?

I mentioned that baby—the unexpected one—
the one we would care for if some lost soul brought him to us—
but why? why would we care? Why should we care?
The world is dark—who are we to think otherwise?
Because one cold, dark night, an unexpected baby showed up.
The Inn had no room;
the powerful and the important had no room, and took no notice.
CNN and Fox News showed no interest; no one gave him welcome,
except some rough-edged shepherds, working all night.

We care because we believe—we choose—the Light.
We choose the Light who first chose us.
That we long for the Light shows us we were made for it,
and not for darkness.
God did not shrug his shoulders at the darkness,
and neither do we;
he sent a Child, and we receive a Child—
as many as he sends, of every color, shape and size—
because that Child told us, when he grew up,
"whatsoever you do for the least of these…"

To be a Christian is to know his Light—to be changed by it;
and more, to be faithful to the Light,
missed and mocked by so many.

Once a year, our church is all lit up,
and actually, for a little bit,
a little more of the world notices.
"Hmm..those Christians are having their Christmas again."

But it is between those Christmases, the other 51 weeks,
most of the world goes back to its darkness,
but we, who had Light poured into us in baptism;
we who confront the darkness week by week—
that’s when our task is so important!

Week by week, we bear witness;
week by week, we feel the darkness creep in,
and we return to the Light, first given on Christmas,
given again in the sacrament of penance and the Eucharist.

Tonight, our church, and our homes, are splendid with light;
in a few days, we’ll put it all away—and where will the light be?
That’s up to us: will there be room in us, for the light to remain?

Felix Dies Nativitatis

The Christmas Tree (Christmas Vigil)

Let’s talk about the Christmas Tree—
would you like to know where it came from?
I’m going to tell you.

You know the story of the Garden—in Genesis.
You know that Adam and Eve were at a tree.
Actually, there were two trees: the Tree of Life,
and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Bad.

Well, as you know, Adam and Eve disobeyed God,
and ate from the wrong tree:
for them, the Tree of Knowledge became the tree of death,
and they were not allowed to eat from the Tree of Life.

This story has always fired the imagination of Christians,
because just as Adam and Eve came to a tree,
and their sin brought death,
so, a long time later, Jesus came also to a tree—the Cross—
and there, he turned death into life!

For all these long centuries,
priests and bishops told this story at Mass.
There was one day in particular they would tell this story:
this day—Christmas Eve!

Around the year of our Lord 1000,
people in Germany began putting on plays to tell this story—
just like the children at Piqua Catholic do!
And on December 24, they would tell the story of Adam and Eve.

Well, they needed to set the stage—so they would get a tree.
And only one tree is still green in December: a fir tree!
Like the tree in the Garden, it had to have fruit on it:
and the fruit you could get in Germany, in December, was…apples!

Because they were also thinking of the other tree,
the Tree of Life, they wanted to put something else on
as fruit that brings eternal life:
round, white wafers of bread!
That’s right—bread that looked like the Eucharist!
Because the Body and Blood of Jesus is the "fruit" of the Cross,
which is the true Tree of Life!
When we eat this "fruit," we live forever!

Can you picture that "Paradise Tree," now?
Set up in the town square,
just like we have a big Christmas Tree set up in our town square?
Decorated with apples—red and yellow, and maybe green?
Also decorated with lots of white discs of bread?

About the year 1400, they stopped having plays,
but people loved the Paradise Tree,
so they started putting them up at home.
Over time, they added other decorations—
fruit, nuts, candies, cookies.
Later someone invented glass ornaments; still later, lights!
And there you have the Christmas Tree we have today.

There’s one more connection, to the Gospel I just read.
That was a family tree—the family tree of Jesus!

It was a lot of names—because of all the generations
that connected Abraham to King David, and King David to Jesus.

Matthew, who wrote this Gospel,
wanted us to know that when God came to earth,
he came as part of our human family;
and he also came so that we could become part of his family!

Yes, that was a long Gospel—
but it reminds us how large the Family of God is,
stretching all the way back to Adam and Eve:
who although they were very sad because they turned from God,
had to rejoice when Jesus, their great-great-great…grandson,
came to undo the damage they had caused!

In heaven, Adam and Eve rejoice
because Jesus has added so many more to the Family Tree…
right down to the present, and each of us!
Through baptism and faith in Jesus,
you and I have been added to that list of names in the Gospel!

That Family Tree, of all who belong to Jesus,
is God’s Christmas Tree;
How bright and beautiful that tree must be,
with all the people who believe in Jesus!
You and I are part of that Tree!

When we come to communion, remember the tree.
Adam and Eve ate from the wrong tree—
it brought sorrow and death.
You and I eat the Body and Blood of Jesus—
the fruit of the Cross, the Tree of Life—it brings us life!

My day off...

I thought you might find interesting what transpired today, my "day off"...

Around 4:40 am, the phone rang; I think it rang 3 times before I answered--to be honest, I was pretty dead asleep, and groggy in my conversation. The caller was someone from the police department; I was needed at the hospital. (Out of consideration for those involved, I will omit further details.) About 10 minutes later, I'd dressed and gotten behind the wheel, and was pulling out before I realized I'd forgotten my glasses! Don't worry, I'm only a little off without them...but agreed, not the best thing to do.

I was there until around 5:30--I won't say anything about it, except it was an extremely difficult situation but those involved were grateful a priest had come. I got back into bed a little before six--did I mention I'd been up pretty late the night before?--but I didn't get to sleep right away, and wondered if I should get up; but I think I was snoozing pretty well by 8 am...

The phone rang--the other priest answered it. Zzzzzzz....phone rang again--other priest answered it. Zzzzzz....the phone rang; the other priest let me know this was for me. A computer repair guy came by the office, something I'd arranged, I wanted to explain what we needed, so I did it over the phone--I confess, still in bed.

Well, I decided to get up then, and made some coffee and some breakfast. Bacon and eggs, all fixed in the microwave--isn't that grand? Maybe it was just my mood, but boy did it all taste good!

Fast forward to the afternoon, time to get down to some business--I had to begin decorating the Christmas Tree. So I went down the basement, and got the lights, and--as happens to you, I had to untangle them. I know what you are thinking--why didn't I put them in good order last year? Well, in this case, I let someone else take down the lights last year, but...I'd probably have done it the same way myself!

Then the phone started ringing again. The computer guy again; the maintenance man, advising me of a furnace problem in the school, then again, telling me it was working; then the office; then the funeral home; seems like a few others.

This is a good time to mention the plans I had for the evening: a group of seminarians and possible seminarians were coming by; one of our seminarians had called me, a few weeks back, to see if I'd be host for a get-together, so I said sure. The plan was to have some drinks and snacks, then pray Vespers, and then go out to dinner. They were due around 5, and I wanted the tree to have at least lights on it.

Another phone call--I needed to run over to the office. So a quick trip over there, in and out; only it's not in-and-out, as several people had questions. While I was out, I ran by the grocery store and picked up some pop and beer and chips and such for the seminarians, then back home, and I finished with the lights. The first guys showed up as I was bringing out some snacks, and they were happy to help me set out some things.

Well, now, when I talked to the deacon about it, I figured we'd have four or five, and that would be well worthwhile. That afternoon, he called me, said he expected ten! Along with the other priest and me, that's a full dozen. So our living room was packed, and the various snacks disappeared rapidly.

After Vespers, we reconvened at Ruby Tuesdays in Troy, and enjoyed a good conversation over beer, cokes and mostly burgers. A good bunch of guys, ranging from one high school guy to several in college and two guys currently in the seminary. Several are studying theology and philosophy, but others are studying engineering. Several talked about their experiences with the older, Extraordinary Form of the Mass; they were interested in hearing more, from one of the seminarians, about our new, coadjutor Archbishop Dennis Schnurr. We also talked about the schools the guys are attending--several are at Franciscan University in Steubenville, one at Dayton, one at Ohio Northern, and one at the University of Cincinnati.

About this time, it occurred to me a photo might be nice--I asked if anyone had a camera phone; several came out. (I showed the guys my Nokia phone from around 2003, and they laughed at it--"I think they have those in museums, Father.") Sorry I didn't think to get photos earlier of church or my house, but here are some pics:

Here's the seminarian-deacon, Rev. Mr. Shawn Landewich, who organized this whole event--a seminarian out beating the bushes for more seminarians, how cool is that? Beyond him is Chris Osgood, a college student at a Baptist university, a valiant Catholic witness, and then our congenial vicar, Father Tom Grilliot.

Here are Mark, Tom and Eric--sorry to say, with such a big group, I didn't get last names. Mark described some "liturgical dance" that happens at Masses at the University of Dayton; with a serious look, I said, "sorry to say, Mark, they don't have classes in liturgical dance at the seminary." He pretended to be disappointed.

Here's Father Tom again, hogging all the pictures as usual, along with brothers Pete and Phil. Tom, above, had his brother, Sean, along with him, but he was omitted from the pictures, sorry buddy!


Finally, here is your humble correspondent, along with current seminarian, Dan Hess. The Germans always sit together...


After a good conversation, several of the guys had to drive back to Cincinnati; the others were headed north, and we all parted ways. I hope I see these guys again, in the seminary and, God willing, in the priesthood. This is what you're praying for when you pray for more priests!

Now it's a little after 10, and I'm reclining and working on my lap-top, typing these words.

Oh, I forgot to mention, while I was carrying boxes up from the basement, I tripped on the stairs and jammed my big toe. It's starting to throb a little, I wonder if I sprained it?

That's how I spent my day off.

The whole world awaits Mary's reply

(This was in Saturday's Office of Readings, I thought you'd enjoy it.)

A sermon of St Bernard

You have heard, O Virgin, that you will conceive and bear a son; you have heard that it will not be by man but by the Holy Spirit. The angel awaits an answer; it is time for him to return to God who sent him. We too are waiting, O Lady, for your word of compassion; the sentence of condemnation weighs heavily upon us.

The price of our salvation is offered to you. We shall be set free at once if you consent. In the eternal Word of God we all came to be, and behold, we die. In your brief response we are to be remade in order to be recalled to life.

Tearful Adam with his sorrowing family begs this of you, O loving Virgin, in their exile from Paradise. Abraham begs it, David begs it. All the other holy patriarchs, your ancestors, ask it of you, as they dwell in the country of the shadow of death. This is what the whole earth waits for, prostrate at your feet. It is right in doing so, for on your word depends comfort for the wretched, ransom for the captive, freedom for the condemned, indeed, salvation for all the sons of Adam, the whole of your race.

Answer quickly, O Virgin. Reply in haste to the angel, or rather through the angel to the Lord. Answer with a word, receive the Word of God. Speak your own word, conceive the divine Word. Breathe a passing word, embrace the eternal Word.

Why do you delay, why are you afraid? Believe, give praise, and receive. Let humility be bold, let modesty be confident. This is no time for virginal simplicity to forget prudence. In this matter alone, O prudent Virgin, do not fear to be presumptuous. Though modest silence is pleasing, dutiful speech is now more necessary. Open your heart to faith, O blessed Virgin, your lips to praise, your womb to the Creator.

See, the desired of all nations is at your door, knocking to enter. If he should pass by because of your delay, in sorrow you would begin to seek him afresh, the One whom your soul loves. Arise, hasten, open. Arise in faith, hasten in devotion, open in praise and thanksgiving. Behold the handmaid of the Lord, she says, be it done to me according to your word.

If you want to access the Liturgy of the Hours online, you can do so at Universalis, from which I took this.

The House of God (Sunday homily)

When God tells David, through the prophet Nathan,
"I will build you a house,"
he is speaking to more than David.
He is speaking to those who would come from David’s line:
all the People of God, and very specifically,
He is speaking to the second David, Jesus, His Son.
"I will build you a house."

So, in one sense, the "house" is Mary herself.
She is the fruit of Israel, the glory of God’s People!
As the poet William Wordsworth called her,
"our tainted nature’s solitary boast"!
She is the immaculate temple, filled with the glory of God.

This is what we celebrated last week.
God acted, at the beginning of Mary’s life,
when she was conceived in Anna’s womb,
to keep her "immaculate," without stain of original sin.

God was preparing a house for his Son, the heir of David,
the King whose throne shall endure forever.

This is something marvelous to contemplate!
God not only came to his People
but he chose to do it by coming through his People:
becoming one of us, conceived in a human mother,
flesh of her flesh, and bone of our bone, a member of our family!

This is what we profess every Sunday in the Creed:
"For us men and for our salvation, he came down from heaven.
By the power of the Holy Spirit,
he was born of the Virgin Mary, and became man."

So awesome a statement is that, that we bow at those words.
And, twice a year, we kneel:
on the Feast of the Annunciation in March,
when Jesus was conceived in Mary,
and then on his birthday nine months later, December 25.

David longed to build a house fit for God;
and God’s response was, yes, but not in the way you imagine.
Instead, God himself would build the house,
and the house would be the People of God—us—
among whom God comes to dwell.

This physical house, our church,
which is consecrated for worship,
is a sign and expression of the House of God
which is made up of God’s holy people.

This is why we are right to take good care of this house.
Sometimes people will say it’s a waste of money
to make our church beautiful,
buildings don’t matter, anything will do.

But this building is not just to keep out the weather,
it is here to teach us, every time we come here,
what being God’s House means.
How clean and beautiful is the "house" of our own lives?
Is our spiritual life about doing the minimum—"good enough"?
Between Sundays, do we live lives that look like God’s House—
where he is welcome, and others will discover him in us?

You see, that is another purpose—to have a place of hospitality.
We invite people to our homes,
don’t we make things nice for them?
We do the same in God’s House, and we do it with our lives.
To be a Christian is to share Christ with others
and to welcome others to find Him in us.

I began by saying that God, in speaking to David,
was speaking beyond David, to Jesus and to us.
In like manner, when God, through Gabriel, speaks to Mary,
he is again speaking to us.
He tells us, "The Lord is with you!"—and we find it troubling.
What does this demand of us? Are we ready?

Every Mass is, as we say,
another Good Friday, and another Easter:
Jesus death and resurrection in the Sacrifice of the Altar.

Every Mass is also another Christmas:
The Holy Spirit comes upon this altar,
Jesus is conceived and born, as it were, in the Eucharist!

Do you know what "Bethlehem" means? "House of Bread."
Isn’t it interesting that when Jesus is born,
where does Mary place him?
In a manger—a feed-box for the stable!

We kneel in adoration of this honor and gift;
if we receive the Eucharist, we do so,
not as an afterthought or casually,
but struck with awe to receive God in this way,
being joined to him, flesh-and-blood!

Our best response is to ask God to make us clean of sin,
like Mary; and like Mary, to say:
"behold the handmaid of the Lord."

What's happening...

On this 20th day of December, as the daylight contracts, I am...

> Thinking about what I will say in my homily this weekend. I should have prepared it Wednesday, but I had other things intervene, including a meeting I mistakenly thought was Thursday...

> Thinking of Hannukah, which starts this weekend, and wishing more Christians knew about this event in our salvation history: the defeat of the forces of oppressive secularization almost 2,200 years ago, and the rededication of the Temple of the Lord by the Maccabees. The key ideas of Hannukah are light and liberty; which reminds us of the great gifts Judaism has given the world--which reminds me of something I thought about last night, in the chapel. Supposing the athiests are right, and there is no God, how does one explain the power and beauty and truth that comes to us first through Judaism, then through Christianity?

> Not planning to join in the neo-heathen celebration of the "Winter Solstice" which has, in recent years, so delighted the chai-tea, NPR, Sunday New York Times crowd because then they can be rid, finally, of that embarrassing Child, you-know-who...

> Instead, I'll be putting up my Christmas Tree, hopefully starting to decorate it on Monday...

> Trying to figure out if I have a cold or not. You know how you feel right before a cold really hits? Kind of "off," with maybe a bit of a scratchy throat and a headache? That's how I've felt for two days, along with being really tired at times.

> Thinking about when I'm going to schedule a rehearsal for the servers for Midnight Mass; once again, our dear Sister--you know who you are!--came through for me and lined up six--count 'em!--servers, all stout fellows. The running joke anymore is whether I'll show up, since I have a habit of getting sick at Christmastime, and here we may go again! (Two years ago I didn't even make it to Midnight Mass, I was so sick.)

> Feeling pretty good that Christmas falls mid-week this year, giving me more time to do various things (like prepare a Christmas homily and decorate the Christmas Tree)...

> Wondering if I should start taking pictures of meals the way Father Z does; if so, I'd have pictures of the meal I prepared (yes, really!) last night, for the priests from the neighboring parish: we had some nice scallops, which I sauteed in olive oil and butter, with some garlic, some linguine, and a nice red sauce a la Paul Newman called "Sockarooni." I'd never cooked scallops before, these turned out nicely, although I think I should have cooked them a slight bit more; also I think they would have been better with some kind of oil and vinegar dressing than with red sauce. For dessert, we ate some rum cake a parishioner made for the parochial vicar and me--oh heavens is that good!

> Noticing my coffee cup is empty, and another cup is in the pot, beckoning to me from the kitchen...

Yes, I wore...

...Rose vestments, at least at one parish; the other does not have a rose vestment; but I borrowed it from one parish to the other for the last Mass of the day.

The Gift of the Holy Spirit (Sunday homily)

As Christmas approaches,
I imagine you are either thinking about
gifts you still have to get for someone;
or you may be thinking about what gifts you hope to get;
or, you may be feeling badly
because you cannot do as much this year.

The readings focus on one Gift in particular—
a gift everyone needs—even if they already have it;
a gift everyone can give—whether you are very young or very old,
even if you haven’t one extra dollar to spend.

That is the Gift of the Holy Spirit.

Isaiah said: "He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor"—
he has sent us—
there are plenty in our midst who are facing poverty,
and many of us are suddenly facing financial hardship—
including our parish and our school.
We might pray for wisdom from the Spirit to "bring glad tidings."
This might be a good time
to forget about "my parish" and "us or them"
and instead think about, "we’re all in this together!"

"To heal the brokenhearted"—
many families are broken-hearted right now,
because of illness in particular.
Please reach out to them!

"To proclaim liberty to the captives"…
You might remember there are folks in nursing homes
who are often forgotten—
they would love a card or a visit.
And there is no liberty, no release, like the forgiveness of sins:
remember our Penance Service at Saint Mary on Tuesday,
come yourself, and bring someone with you!

The watchword for this Sunday is "rejoice"—in Latin, Gaudete!
It is a command, as we heard from Saint Paul.
It is the reason the color of the vestments
goes from purple to rose.
We are very close to the Day our Salvation dawned on the world.

As it gets dark and chill—both the weather and the economy—
our mood can also darken.
Many find this season not joyful but blue.
In a meeting the other day, discussing the financial situation,
one of our dear Sisters of Charity remarked:
"so much negativity!"
She is 100% right—it is far too easy to be negative in such times.

This is when what Paul commands: "Rejoice—in the Lord!"
becomes a real act of faith. An act of hope.

This, by the way, is one of the many reasons to be thankful—
and we are thankful—
for all our religious men and women
who have given so much to serve us.
We have been blessed, in Piqua,
with the Sisters of Charity,
teaching the Faith and calling us to justice and peace.
A sign of hope by their radical obedience to Christ.

So many religious orders have given us cause to rejoice;
and their elderly members now need us—through our generosity—
to meet their needs in their retirement.
That annual collection is today, and I ask you to do all you can.

First and last, it is the Gift of the Holy Spirit that is our joy.
We’d like a lot of other nice presents this year;
we’d love to see our economy turn around,
we’d love our finances get better.

Please Lord, come and deliver us—
especially those out of work, in debt, living in fear!

But it is the Lord who sends us to one another,
to meet one anothers needs, maybe in ways we never imagined.
Sharing meals, opening our doors in hospitality,
making sacrifices we only heard about earlier generations doing.

But in all that, we will be sharing the Spirit of consolation,
the Spirit of peace, with one another.
In all that, the fire of faith will be burning brightly in us—
and others will see it!

That is our joy—that is our one Gift
we can never lose or break or wear out or no longer need.
That is why we rejoice.

I am not the One

...who won the Mega Millions' $200 million jackpot last night--even though, according to the Dayton Daily News, the sole, winning ticket was sold right here in Piqua.

It was, actually, chilling to read that; because I had meant to buy one, and in fact, around midnight I was at a local store, picking up some items, and I saw the sign and asked to buy a ticket, and the clerk said, oh, it's too late for tonight's drawing. It got me thinking about Divine Providence and free will. Suppose the Almighty said, "yes, I do will that you win this jackpot"--but it was up to me to buy the ticket? Failing that...someone else won.

My next thought was...I hope the winner knows about Piqua Catholic School and our Catholic parishes! Oh, the good they could do! Then I thought about how all those who win, end up having everyone trying to get their hands on the money..."and now I'm one of those people!"

Father Tom and I talked about it just now--about the perils involved. I wondered, what if I had the winning ticket in my hands, right this moment? I'd be scared to death. I've got a fire going in the fireplace--get that ticket far away from the fire! I'd call a local banker, and have him escort me to the bank vault. I'd be wondering about all the phone calls I would need to make next; I'd be a bit paralyzed, not wanting to make a wrong move I'd regret long after. My mind would be racing and giving thanks.

Then it occurred to me, maybe the person just stopped on I-75 to buy gas, on his way somewhere else? Wouldn't that be a kick in the pants?

a blizzard of activity...and an invitation

Sorry, dear readers, for being scarce. The demands of being a pastor are great, especially these days.

The financial storm that has struck everywhere has, of course, struck in Miami County as well; and collections are down. Saint Boniface has had deficits for several years, and Saint Mary had many deficits for several years before having one up year when I first got here. Now both parishes face serious deficits, and I've been having lots of meetings discussing options, none good. It has not been easy or enjoyable, and I have learned from some mistakes along the way.

Meanwhile, the boiler in Saint Mary Church chose to die in November, and we have been getting by with minimal heat as the temperature dropped. I've been having a lot of discussions on that, and God willing, we'll settle on a recommendation next week. We had a temporary heater set up in the basement, which will, if it works, keep us in the 60s until the boiler is replaced.

Meanwhile, we are approaching--this weekend--a monumental celebration for our venerable Father Angelo Caserta, who had his 90th birthday today, and who will be a priest 64 years in February. Tomorrow evening, he will be celebrant for 4 pm Mass, followed by a carry-in dinner for all and sundry, at the Caserta Center in Piqua, next to St. Boniface Church. We expect at least 500 to show up, and the sky's the limit on how many will want to greet and give their love to Father Ang.

Sunday, we will have a "Roast & Toast" in honor of Father Ang, at the Fort Piqua Plaza, 116 W. High Street, in downtown Piqua, 6-9 pm, as a fundraiser for the critical needs of Saint Boniface Church and the school: we expect to have 200 present (tickets still available at the door, $100), and the proceeds will enable us to restore at least several of the century-old stained glass windows in church.

Oh, and then I have all the other usual projects, and tasks of a pastor!

If you have no plans, please come to Piqua this weekend, especially for the Roast & Toast--it'll support a good cause!