The deep meaning of our Christian Passover (Holy Thursday homily)

It is necessary to peel back the layers of tradition 

to reveal the full meaning of what we do tonight.*

The first reading describes the Passover, 

celebrated by the Jewish People. 

It speaks of the “the fourteenth day of the month” – 

that is, fourteen days after a new moon, which means, a full moon. 

The moon will be full this weekend.

The lamb was one year old and “without blemish”; 

it was obtained several days before and lived with the family.  

Why is this important? 

This points to Jesus, who became a member of the Jewish household, 

a member of the human family.

Then, with the whole assembly present, the lamb was slaughtered. 

When we come to church tomorrow, what do we recall?

Jesus is crucified with the whole assembly present.

The blood of the lamb is then spread over the doorposts.

This is protection from divine judgment. 

By the way: when you and I are baptized, 

that’s when the blood of the Lamb covers us! 

When we fall back into mortal sin, confession renews it.

And then after the lamb is sacrificed, its flesh was eaten. 

This was necessary to complete the sacrifice.

But only those who were members of the household could eat the lamb.

This is why only those baptized and in a state of grace 

receive Holy Communion at Mass. 

Now, let’s drill into the details of the Last Supper, 

which was Jesus’ Passover with his chosen twelve apostles. 

He’s acting as the head of a family. 

I already pointed out how central the lamb is to the Passover.

But the accounts of Jesus’ Last Supper never mention a lamb.

Instead, he takes the bread, and says, 

“this is my body, given up for you.” 

And of course, there was a cup of wine.

In fact, there were four cups of wine.

The first cup that was prepared with water added. 

Ring a bell? You’ve seen me do that.

This was called the “cup of sanctification,” 

and the father began the meal with a prayer, over this cup, 

and the food is brought to the table.

The second was the cup of “proclamation” – 

it was prepared, but not drunk right away; 

because while the food was on the table,

the father would tell the account of what God did 

for his people in Egypt, in the exodus.

By the way, when these events were “remembered,”

the understanding was that in remembering, you were present!

You were actually brought there spiritually, through the meal.

So, when Jesus says to the Apostles, “do this in memory of me,”

two things:

First, he knows that all of us would be coming after in years to come.

He made a plan for each of us to be part of his Passover.

That means Jesus planned for what we call Holy Mass,

and for priests to offer this sacrifice.

And second, our “remembering” here, not quite 2,000 years later,

likewise makes you and me truly present: 

in the Upper Room, at Calvary, at the empty tomb.

Now, back to the Passover.

After everyone ate, the father would share the third cup, 

called the “cup of blessing.” 

And Saint Paul just told us that this was the cup Jesus took up, 

and said, “This is my Blood.”

I said earlier there were four, where’s the last one?

Tomorrow, you and I will hear these words in the Gospel of John:

After this…Jesus said, “I thirst.” There was a vessel filled with common wine….

They put a sponge soaked in wine…up to his mouth. 

When Jesus had taken the wine, he said, “It is finished.” 

And bowing his head, he handed over the spirit.

So we don’t finish this Mass tonight. No final blessing.

We do go on a procession – to the side altar – recalling the Garden.

Oh, I meant to give you one more detail. 

In Jesus’ time, when the lamb was prepared for the meal, 

in order to roast it, do you know how they did it? 

They took two skewers, made of wood. 

One was speared through the torso, from head to tail. 

The other was speared through both shoulders. A cross.

Tomorrow we will worship the Cross on which our Savior, 

our Lamb of God, was slain. This is our Passover. It begins tonight. 

* All these details come from Scripture scholar Brant Pitre.

Make the most of Holy Week (Palm Sunday homily)

 Every year on Palm Sunday, part of me – and maybe you, too – 

has so much to say in response. 

But another part of me responds: What is there to say?

There is only silence before the Son of God on the Cross.

But real, true, extended silence? That is hard to do, 

with family and work and sports and farms and businesses to tend to.

All I can do is to challenge you to TRY.

Kids? Spouses? Parents? Maybe you can help.

This might be a good time to say, “I’ll leave them alone this week.”

Let’s give each other the gift of silence and peace, if we can.

Maybe your Lent has been good, or maybe not so good.

But every day, every breath, is another opportunity.

This Holy Week is such a gift.

The church is open from 5 am to 9:30 pm every day.

We will have confessions 

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday – 

see the bulletin for the times.

I invite you to be part of Holy Thursday, 

Good Friday and Holy Saturday evening.

These days take us deep into the pulsing heart of our Faith.

Look forward like God (Sunday homily)

 Do you know what one of the biggest differences 

between us and God is? (Changed after 5 pm Mass.)

There are a lot of ways we are different from God.

One of them is that…

You and I look backward. God looks forward.

For us, only what has already taken place, is real.

The future is guesswork. It hasn’t happened yet.

And when we set our highest dreams against bitter experience,

hope seems a slender thread indeed.

But God knows the future – because he is already there. 

God looks forward, and over and over again, 

he tries to get you and me to do the same. 

What did you just hear?

“Remember not the events of the past,” God says in the first reading.

“I am doing something new!”

Saint Paul tells us he counts everything as “rubbish”

and forgets “what lies behind,” because Jesus Christ is his prize!

The pharisees say, “look what this sinner did!”

Jesus says, “start new.”

At the risk of being tedious, I’m inviting you again to confession.

Maybe someone needs just one more nudge.

The truth is, I can’t change the world. 

Maybe I can help you change you. 

You can’t change the world. 

But there’s one little chunk of this world 

that you and I have supreme power over. 

And that is our soul! Our choices!

That’s why we go to confession. 

I can’t speak about anyone else, but about myself I say this:

If I didn’t go to confession regularly, I believe I would go to hell.

I would lose my way, little by little.

You’ve heard of the “invisible fence”: to keep your dog in the yard?

You know how it works: there’s a wire underground,

and if the poor dog crosses the wire and ZZZZZT! 

That’s what my conscience does for me, and yours for you!

Confession keeps my conscience alive and reasonably healthy.

You want to make the world better? You want to bring peace?

Start with your own soul. It’ll radiate to your family.

Broccoli Omelette

I didn't intend to do a post about today's lunch, but I had some time to kill, so here I am!

(Sorry no pictures...)

So, it's a Friday in Lent, what shall I have for lunch? Also, I'm trying to cut back on carbs (because I'm carrying around enough for a small village), so...

I remember I have some frozen broccoli, and of course, eggs. And I remember the late Father Angelo Caserta whipping up amazing omelettes when he would invite me over for dinner back in my days in Piqua.

So, here's what I did:

1. Start heating a pan well coated with olive oil. Don't skimp on the oil unless you don't like olive oil; in that case, use whatever fat you prefer. You could even make it without fat, if that's your jam.

2. Once the oil is good and hot, toss in a good handful of broccoli florets. I didn't bother to cut them down, because I was going to cook them till tender. But if you prefer, you can certainly do that. If I had been working with fresh broccoli, I might blanche them first, or else still sautee them, only longer. In any case, the goal here is to get the broccoli both hot and soft, but not mushy. I cooked the broccoli on around medium.

3. While the broccoli cooks -- keep an eye on it so it doesn't burn -- crack three eggs into a small bowl (I use a coffee cup). Add a generous pinch of salt (don't be scared of it). You can add a little water if you like, I did not. Mix these well, so that the yolks and whites are well blended. Or not, if you don't care about that.

4. When the broccoli is cooked as you like, pour the eggs over the broccoli. Check your heat; the temp in the pan will go down, but come up fast -- too fast -- if the fire is too high. You don't want to cook your eggs too fast, and I prefer my omelettes not to have any brown.

5. Stir the eggs, until they are still a little wet but fairly well set. Again, this is how I like an omelette. Remember, the eggs will continue cooking even after you turn off the fire. So when the eggs are close, I turn off the fire and let the residual heat do the rest. That's environmentally conscious, isn't it? I added a good grind of black pepper here, as well as a bit of cayenne pepper. Then I sprinkled some grated "Parmesan" cheese right out of the jar; real Parmesano or Pecorino would be worlds better, but I used what I had.

6. Now you roll it, and this intimidates people. The key here is not to overload it, or it won't fold over very well. And if that happens, who cares? As long as you don't over (or under) cook, it will be delicious. But the way I do it is to fold over a third of it, then...well, this is hard to explain, but Youtube videos aplenty show you how to do it. The point is that you end up with an omelette either with two folds (my preference) or one. If you fold twice and don't overcook it, you can further shape it on the plate.

7. At this point, I put just bit of butter on it, and sprinkled a little more black and red pepper. You could put parseley on it if you want, or paprika.

My omelette was very tasty, although I ought to have let the broccoli cook a bit more. No, not as tasty as I remember Father Caserta's, but still a lovely meal. And it only took a few minutes, and if you think about it, pretty cheap to make. 

Confession: your sins are goney-gone-gone! (Sunday homily)

 If you have ever wondered what God is like, really like,   

this parable is where you must begin and end. 

Which of these two children do you want to be?

Would you like high adventure on the road – or stay close to home?

Do you think it would be fun to go on a spending spree?

Or do you find satisfaction in a good day’s work?

Do you want to end up with nothing, envying the pigs for their slop?

Or would you rather be convinced you’ve never done anything wrong –

and you can’t think of any gift your Father ever gave you?

Can you imagine your Father running toward you, overjoyed to see you?

Hugging you, crying from pent-up sorrow but also swelling with joy?

Well…are you prepared 

to abandon pride and self-regard and simply admit being wrong?

Or can you not think of any reason to go to confession?

As I’ve said before, Lent is all about conversion. 

If you and I aren’t thinking about, praying about, 

working toward our own conversion, 

we are missing entirely what Lent is.

Confession is one of the best helps God gives us, 

but this tool doesn’t do us much good if we leave it in the drawer.

 

I want to commend many of our parishioners: 

you work at developing the habit of regular confession, 

and that’s a really good move, 

and a powerful example to your kids and others.

Let me stress, especially to our kids: 

if you only go to confession once or twice a year, 

you’re not getting anything like the benefit from it you could be.

Why do I say that?

If, starting from your first confession in 2nd grade, you go once a year, 

by the time you’ve done it ten times, you’re in college!

At that pace, I bet you feel awkward every time, 

because you can’t quite remember what you’re supposed to do, 

and that makes all the easier to put it off. 

If the only time you go is right before Easter or Christmas – 

when lots of people are going, and there’s a long line – 

guess what happens?

You’re a little nervous, Father Fox is kind of hurrying things along – 

so, you shrug and think, what’s the point?

Let me introduce you to other possibilities.

Instead of once a year, go once a month. 

This morning, from 9 to 10, it was quiet in the confessional, 

I dozed a little!

And I had plenty of time for those who came. 

Like almost anything, if you keep at it, it gets more familiar,

and, instead of investing all that mental energy around the “how-to,” 

you can actually focus on the meat of it:

being truly honest with God and your own need to change.

Going frequently to confession will enable you to SEE yourself – 

without flinching, without excuses, and without being ashamed.

To be able to admit, “I am a sinner, I failed,” 

without being wrecked by that recognition, is powerful;

because then you and I realize our sense of worth and self-respect 

doesn’t come from some false image:

“I can do it myself” or “I’m really a good person!”

God doesn’t love us because we’re so capable, or so impressive; 

there are no “becauses” with God’s love. He loves us, PERIOD.

As I’ve heard Father Vonderhaar say many times: 

God loves us AS we are, 

but he loves us too much to leave us WHERE we are.

And I want to pause here and make one point in bold, capital letters, 

and I am begging you to believe me when I say: 

When you go to confession, and the priest gives absolution, 

your sins are gone. 

Gone, gone, gone-issimus gone; as gone as gone can be!

And, that includes ALL OF THEM. “But I forgot one!” 

It’s INCLUDED! It, too, is GONE!

In the first reading, Joshua and God’s People crossed the Jordan 

and left Egypt behind, forever.

That is a sign of what God’s absolution in confession means to us:

You and I leave those sins behind forever.

True, like the Children of Israel, we often want to go back.

You and I are unsteady. But God is not unsteady. 

The Father is a Rock. He never wavers.  

Catholic progressives: Ukraine should be happy to lay down and die

 The thing about "progressive" crazy is that no matter how out there they are, there is always a further move to make.

So the National Catholic Reporter took this particular moment to argue that Ukraine is evil to fight the Russian invaders. Not because the invaders aren't also evil; but because fighting back is evil. You think I exaggerate? Read the headline for yourself (and click on it if you want to see more):

Ukraine shows we must reject the possibility that war can be just

The article really is as inane as you can imagine. To combat Russian bombs and bullets, "we need a paradigm shift." Putin is blowing up your apartment building? Try "music and art"!

No doubt Ms. Marie Dennis, author of this article, would offer Ukrainians the advice Gandhi gave the Jews during the Holocaust: you should happily leap into the gas chambers, that'll show Hitler! (Oh yes, he really did give that advice.)

I am trying to unravel this madness, but then these words ring in my head: "Forget it Jake; it's Progressive-town."

Heaven -- God's invitation -- and hell -- our refusal (Sunday homily)

 In a way, these readings are about heaven and hell.

Let’s start with heaven.

In the first reading, Moses asks to know God’s Name. 

He wants to draw closer to God. 

After all, Moses and God’s People had been in slavery 

for over 400 years. 

The stories of what God did in Abraham’s life, 

in the lives of Isaac and Jacob and Joseph, were all distant memories. 

Perhaps even God himself seemed very distant. 

In Hebrew, names are more than just what someone is called.

They express the essence of who someone is.

When God tells Moses he is “I AM WHO AM,” 

he is revealing his true nature, 

that he is the One who truly and fully exists.

By responding this way, God is being very intimate with Moses,

And encouraging Moses’ desire for that intimacy.

Notice that: God WANTS US to know him this way!

This intimate union with God is heaven.

Remember, always remember: God wants this for us.

Some people seem to think God’s salvation is grudging. NO!

The problem is never God’s want-to, but ours.

You and I never have to change God’s mind. 

It is our mind, our lives, that need to change, 

and God is always at the door our heart, 

you and I only need to invite him in.

At the beginning, I mentioned hell. Where does that fit in?

Well, that’s what Jesus is warning against in the Gospel. 

Unless you and I repent, he says, we will all likewise perish.

He doesn’t mean natural death, but spiritual death.

As we all know, a terrible war is raging in Ukraine.

The thing about war is that it, too, is about both hell – and heaven.

The hell part is obvious. But notice the grace that is at work.

It was C.S. Lewis – in his book, Screwtape Letters – 

who noted that war strips away, better than almost anything, 

the illusion that death is far away. 

Amid the horror, acts of courage and generosity take our breath away.

As people worldwide unite in a common purpose and pray together, 

our hearts lift with hope. 

Let me call to your attention Pope Francis’ plan 

to consecrate Ukraine and Russia to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

People are asking, is this about Fatima?

Honestly, I will let other people deal with that.

I know that Sister Lucy, one of the Fatima visionaries, 

said that Pope John Paul properly consecrated Russia to Mary in 1985.

I’m not interested in getting into the weeds on that. 

Pope Francis wants to renew that consecration. I’m 100% in favor.

This will happen on Friday, at noon our time. 

Meanwhile, Archbishop Schnurr has asked us all 

to pray a novena of Rosaries for Ukraine, 

so I invite you to pray a Rosary every day through Friday.

Maybe people would like to gather at St. Remy, on Friday, at noon?

'Brace for Impact' (Sunday homily)

 Every Lent we hear this Gospel describing Jesus’ “transfiguration.” 

The question we might ask is, why did this happen 

and what does it mean?

The meaning is this: Jesus knows the Cross is coming.

He has already warned the Apostles, but they don’t grasp it.

This experience – this revelation of his true glory as God – 

is meant to inoculate the apostles in advance 

for the crisis of the Cross.

He knows that the Cross will shake them to the core.

Even after this experience, Peter and James 

will be missing in action on Good Friday. 

Only John stays with Jesus to the end.

What would have happened to them 

without this strengthening experience?

Now, let’s bring this forward to our situation.

You and I don’t usually have a crisis of faith when all is well.

Actually, maybe we do, but we don’t realize it.

When everything is on the upswing, 

we don’t notice how rickety our faith may be:

that it’s shallow and we’re just going with the flow.

Then when the you-know-what hits the fan, we’re a mess, 

just like happened to the Apostles.

So, consider our situation: we get two years of Covid, 

and just as it seems like that is behind us…

Wham, supply-chain problems! Wham, inflation!

And I’m sorry, but let’s be candid: 

our political leaders do not inspire confidence in most of us.

Now we have a war in Europe, and it only requires a little slip

for this to become our war – another world war.

How’s that for our own shaken-to-the-core crisis?

Like the Apostles faced.

What the apostles needed to face their crisis is what you and I need:

To see the glory of Jesus. To remember who he is. 

If recent events are too much for you, turn off the TV and radio. 

Fix your eyes on Jesus. If you can, come here to St. Remy.

If you can, come on Thursday when we have exposition.

This church is open every day at 5 am, until 9:30 pm.

Anyone who wants access earlier or later, please let me know?

That can easily be arranged. 

And remember what an advantage you and I have over the Apostles.

When they saw everything fall apart on Good Friday, 

Easter hadn’t happened yet. 

They hadn’t had Jesus come back from the dead.

They hadn’t yet been given the Holy Spirit.

They didn’t know yet the power of the Holy Mass!

They didn’t yet realize that Jesus would always be present with them, 

above all in the Eucharist.

So: brace for impact. But remember, when the Cross came, 

Jesus was not alarmed, and he was not shaken.

Whatever may lie ahead, it will not surprise Jesus 

and will not be too big for him.

Today's Mass & homily...

 https://youtu.be/YKCtfFMLF10

The alarm clock (Sunday homily)

 In my first assignment as a priest, the other priest with me 

would often refer to this as the “baptismal” season of Lent. 

At first, I found this confusing, 

but as I listened to him and reflected on his point, I understood.

Lent is about baptism: what does that mean?

Well, that’s how Lent originated. In the beginning of Christianity, 

people would prepare very seriously for their baptism, 

for their confirmation 

and for the first reception of the Body and Blood of Jesus.

They would prepare for months or years – 

and the last six weeks would be especially intense. 

They would fast every single day.

After all, they were entering an entirely new life. 

They would receive a new name. 

And they knew they might lose their life; they might be martyred.

For pretty much all of us, of course, we’ve already been baptized, 

and that happened when we were a few months old. 

No drama, no peril; we may have literally slept through our baptism.

For us, Lent is our invitation to go back and make it all personal. 

That’s what the sacrament of confession is all about.

We go back to the font of baptism.

Now, for our kids in 2nd grade, preparing for your First Communion?

For our older kids, maybe in your teenage years, 

and you’re starting to put it all together? 

I’m talking to YOU right now.

Sometimes there isn’t any special moment; 

we just sort of grow into our own faith. 

But there can come a moment, when the lights go on; 

it all comes together, and you realize:

This isn’t about my parents or my family, but it’s ME:

It’s MY relationship with God. Who is Jesus TO ME?

For me, it was when I was 19, in my first year of college.

I had an encounter with our Lord, very personal, very intense.

It’s hard to describe, but I knew, down to my bones, 

that he was calling me to follow him. 

That moment changed everything.

Later I figured out that in that moment, 

the reality of my baptism, and my confirmation, came alive.

I woke up.

To be clear, that’s not when I heard the call to be a priest; 

that was when I heard the invitation to be a disciple.

This is what Lent is for: to wake us up.

Right now, I’m the alarm clock: RING, RING, RING!!!

Some here are already awake. You’re out of bed, getting to it.

So maybe you’re trying to turn me off! That’s OK.

The alarm is ringing for those who haven’t woken up yet.

Or think of this as the alarm on your phone, reminding you of a task.

Just now, I spoke to the kids; so, let me say something 

to those at the other end of the journey.

As you and I get older, we get set in our ways.

I’m 60 and it’s true for me. 

You start saying, “No, not trying that.”

I used to go camping, sleep on the ground – but now, no!

The danger is when that mindset comes into your spiritual life:

“Nah, I don’t need that! That’s for somebody else!”

Once again, I’m your alarm clock.

Jesus is speaking to every single one of us when he says, CHANGE.

And if you say, “Well, I don’t know how!”

Jesus does! Ask him. Open your heart.

As I said, many of us are awake, so just…keep going! 

God’s grace is at work in your life, trust that, give thanks for that.

And, for some here, the truth is, 

you’re not only awake, you’re TOO awake!

You’re charged up on “spiritual caffeine.” You’ve got spiritual jitters.

That part before wasn’t for you! It was for the sleepy, OK?

You’re earnest, you’re intense, that’s good! 

And I’m not trying to discourage fervor.

What I want to say to you in particular:

Remember God’s grace. It’s not all on you. 

God’s part is 99.999999999%; our contribution is a speck.

You and I cooperate with grace, but we don’t replace it. 

And we certainly cannot earn it.

You don’t have to fast on crackers and water. 

If you want to, that’s fine, but your family doesn’t have to.

Remember: when you were baptized, you didn’t do a THING.

Even now, no matter how old you and I are, 

each of us is still that baby that really doesn’t understand. 

God carries us. And that’s how we’ll get to heaven.

And some of us, hearing that, you think, “OK I can go back to sleep!”

No…that was for the already awake, the maybe “too awake.”

For every one of us, this is our time to come back to font, 

to the place of our new birth, to our baptism.

Preparing for Lent (Sunday homily)

  The first reading said, 

“When a sieve is shaken, the husks appear.”

That’s a good image for what we want to do with Lent.

We want to get those unsavory parts of our lives up on the surface – 

and, of course, get them out.

If you are thinking about Lent as something to be “got through” – 

just grit your teeth and march through to Easter – 

then you’re not going to gain much of anything from Lent.

The whole point of Lent is conversion. We all know that Jesus said: 

“Repent and believe in the Gospel. The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.”

All Christians know that. 

But what we as Catholics do – that not all Christians do – 

is give ourselves six weeks of focusing on that repentance, 

that turning back to God, that getting ready for the Kingdom.

Now, you and I can shake the sieve,

But truly, the conversion – the change – only happens with God’s help.

With the help of his supernatural grace, 

that is, his divine life poured into our lives.

So please do not reduce this to ritual or rules.

Those exist in service to something far more important, which is – 

to repeat myself – our conversion. Our becoming heavenly.

One day every one of us will leave this life, we know not when.

When you depart this life, where will you go?

Do you want to go to heaven? Of course, you do.

Do you take this for granted? 

What exactly in the words of Jesus lets you think so?

Jesus keeps saying, wake up! Get ready! Change your life!

Why would he do that if we could just cruise on autopilot 

straight through the Pearly Gates? 

Here’s a lesson that each of us can – and will learn – during Lent:

Change is hard. Conversion is hard.

Talk is cheap. Six straight weeks is something else.

One reason to give something up is precisely to humble ourselves, 

and to face the reality of our weakness and our spiritual flabbiness.

And I say it again: me too.

In the second reading, St. Paul talked about resurrection.

When the discipline of Lent becomes a real drag, 

remind yourself of what lies ahead. 

By the calendar, Lent leads to Holy Week and then to Easter:

The way of the Cross to Calvary, to the grave and then to new life.

For us that means taking up the Cross here and now.

Embrace purgatory, here and ahead.

One day it will be heaven and resurrection.

That means having our bodies back, new and improved.

What is mortal and frail will clothe itself with immortality.

That’s what Jesus told us to get ready for. 

The classic tools of this conversion are fasting, prayer and giving alms.

Each of us can offer more prayer, give up things we like, 

and give things away to help others. 

I repeat, everyone can do this, at any age.

I’m speaking right now to our children.

Talk to mom and dad about what you can do without or give away, 

about learning new prayers this Lent. 

And if you really want to make a good Lent, 

think about how you can make things easier for mom and dad. 

I especially want to highlight some opportunities for prayer 

you may not realize.

Daily Mass will be at 7 am, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday.

If you come about 20 minutes before, we pray Morning Prayer.

You can come to adoration anytime from about 8 am to about 8:30 pm. 

We’ll have Stations of the Cross every Thursday evening at 7 pm.

All the many opportunities for confession are available.

It’s game-time, let’s go! Let’s you and I make this our best Lent ever.

I’m praying that this will be a time of conversion:

For myself, for you, and for our parish.

Will you join me in that prayer, and in making that happen?

Which Adam will you be? (Sunday homily)

 What Jesus asks in this Gospel seems impossible.

And, at a certain level, it IS impossible.

The wrong someone causes you can be devastating.

Blackening your good name.

Betraying trust.

Damaging your relationships with others.

Causing you to lose your job.

The other day I saw a story about a man 

released from prison after many years. 

He’d been convicted of murder, 

but eventually the truth came out that his brother had done it. 

Imagine that: your own brother lets that happen to you.

You and I can also be in situations – like David’s in the first reading – 

where the right thing to do seems utterly inexplicable to everyone. 

As his right-hand man said, 

“God has delivered your enemy into your grasp!”

But what David understood was that 

this wasn’t primarily his fight, but God’s. 

The King was the Lord’s anointed; David left Saul to God.

How could David do this? The people around him, following him, 

not only found it confusing; they may have found it threatening, 

because their lives were in danger from Saul as well. 

So, I reiterate what I just said: at a certain level, this is impossible. 

How do you and I find the grace to do this?

Here’s where the second reading fits in.

This ability to forgive, this calm in the midst of a storm – 

both from your enemies, but also from your friends who are baffled –

Can only come from the Lord.

When Paul talks about two Adams, 

he means Adam at the beginning of the human race, 

and the second Adam is Jesus.

What he’s also saying to the Corinthians is:

Which Adam will you be?

The one who said, I don’t know if God is there or not. I’m on my own.

Or the one who said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

When you and I become a Christian, when we live as Christians, 

it means choosing that second Adam.

And when it seems especially difficult, 

ask yourself whether you’re acting more out of that first Adam 

point of view: I’m on my own.

If David had thought that way, he’d have killed King Saul.

This last week I was on retreat, 

and we were looking at the life and teachings 

of St. John Henry Newman.

Newman made a point about faith:

That, contrary to how people describe it, faith is NOT blind.

There can be times of darkness, but it’s not about being blind.

Rather, what faith does is enable you and me to see more fully.

If I take off my glasses, everything is fuzzier, 

especially way back there!

I put my glasses back on, and the weakness of my vision is corrected. Things are now clear. 

That’s what faith does.

One way to deal with people who have harmed you, and are harming you, 

is to follow David’s example.

David was not passive when King Saul was unjust and threatened him. 

David acted to protect himself and to escape danger.

Yet at a certain point he said, Saul is God’s problem.

So, whoever that is in your life, acting like Saul to you,

you can protect yourself and others.

But, if you have a chance to strike out, but maybe you don’t have to?

That’s what Jesus means by saying, “turn the other cheek.”

This person, this situation, is God’s problem. God’s battle.

Look at David’s life. 

He wasn’t off somewhere, away from the action – 

he was in the thick of battle, 

he’s living off the land, he’s on the run from danger.

But with all that, he’s talking to God. 

We have his psalms in the Bible:

“I was in battle, and you saved my life.”

“Wild animals were all around me, and you, God delivered me.”

“My sins are so loathsome, yet you forgive me!”

David would have loved being out in the woods in camo, hunting deer.

And he would have loved the sacrament of confession.

So, what St. Paul said to the Corinthians, he says to us:

Which Adam will you and I be? 

The worldly Adam who says, I’m alone, I don’t know where God is?

Or the Spirit-filled Adam who will be at the altar in a few minutes, 

offering himself to the Father for us, 

to give us his Body and Blood, cleansing us of sins, 

giving us eternal life, and making us life for others?

Which Adam? 

'Our leaves will stay green!' (Sunday homily)

 I really didn’t want to give this homily.

As you know, there is a reorganization of parishes 

called Beacons of Light underway. 

This involves some priests being moved around, 

and this weekend is when these changes are being announced.

I am one of those priests who will be moving. 

The Archbishop asked me to take charge of three parishes in Dayton. 

I’ll become pastor of St. Henry, Our Lady of Good Hope, 

and St. Mary of the Assumption.  

Your new pastor will be Father Ned Brown, who is now in Fort Recovery. 

This will all take effect July 1st.

I have been so happy here as your pastor. I asked to stay.

I pushed. It wasn’t possible.

I will miss you. I will miss watching our children grow up.

There’s so much I could say, but this isn’t about my sadness.

I will just add that you helped me more than you can imagine.

You nourished my faith and helped me be a better priest. 

If I make it to heaven, you will have helped. Thank you!

Now let’s talk about the future.

Father Brown will be joined by three other priests.

That includes Father James Reutter, 

who is currently leading several rural parishes in Clermont County, 

and Father Matt Feist, who is currently pastor in Greenville, 

which of course is part of this new family.

The remaining priest will be named later.

So, that makes a team of four priests led by Father Brown.

You may recall the original plan called for three priests, 

so, getting a fourth is a bonus.

We may not keep that fourth priest long term, 

but it will help during the transition.

Everyone always asks, what do I think of these priests?

I will say they are all my friends; I have worked well with them. 

But I’m not going to build them up, setting you up for a let-down.

Nor am I going to tear them down either!

You will meet them soon enough. 

Father Brown has a big task, especially between now and July 1:

he has his own parishes to lead, 

he has to help with the transition there, 

and of course, make the transition to this new assignment.

Let’s talk about the fear these changes engender.

Father Brown knows we have strong, well-run programs here; 

he is well aware of our strong parish identity; because I’ve told him. 

He told me he’s not looking to mess up what works.

What he wants is to provide good leadership for all the parishes,

in order to navigate this transition as smoothly as possible.

He’s going to need everyone’s cooperation and patience.

It may take longer than you like, but he will get to your questions.

For my part: I will be on retreat this coming week.

No, it’s not anything mysterious, I planned this months ago.

But I’m glad to have these few days under these circumstances.

I have to move from my sadness and grief to my next challenge.

So, with all this affecting Father Brown and the other priests,

affecting his current parishes, 

and then, our parish, and our family of seven parishes, 

and affecting me, and my own transition to a new assignment…

You can understand there may not be time for some things.

I’m going to zero in on the essentials, 

on the deadlines that are out of my control, 

and otherwise, I’m going to have to gear down.

In the Gospel, our Lord Jesus talks about blessing and woe.

This “woe” language can be unsettling.

But Jesus is not condemning those who are rich and comfortable.

He’s saying, if you are putting your hope in that comfort: woe to you!

Apply that to our present situation:

a lot of us are unsettled by change, but we forget change is constant.

You and I overlook that we’ve adapted more than we realize.

We will navigate the change ahead better than we think – 

because that’s what we do. It’s built into us.

If you’re sitting here saying, “Not me: I do TERRIBLE with change,” 

my answer is, relax and look around: you’re not alone. 

People around you will help. We’re going to help each other.

Don’t forget the advantages you and I bring to this challenge.

We have deep reservoirs of faith and God’s help.

The gifts we need are in other people, 

and together, you and I have all we need. 

This is God’s Church – he died for it.

And if you are griping, “but where are we going? Why this way?”

Remember, God’s People have been saying that for 3,500 years, 

starting way back in the desert with Moses.

Whatever comes – and all my experience tells me the actual reality

will be nowhere near as bad as we imagine on fretful, sleepless nights…

Whatever comes, our leaves will stay green. That’s God’s promise!

How to get on the first rung of prayer (Sunday homily)

 Have you ever considered how often the Lord met people at work: 

farmers in the field; women caring for the household; 

shepherds and fishermen, working all night?

When you are at school, or at your job, 

or doing the daily tasks of the farm or the home, Jesus is there. 

And if you find it hard to remember he’s part of your day, 

here are some easy, practical ways to keep Jesus with you all day:

- Start each day with the Morning Offering. 

You can do it in the shower or as you brush your teeth.

- Turn off the radio in the car and pray while you drive. 

You will drive more politely, and if you have a long enough drive, 

it’s not hard to complete an entire Rosary. 

There’s nothing wrong with praying part of your Rosary 

and coming back to it later. 

It’s not the best, but better to pray part, 

than to wait and not pray it at all.

- Make an effort to pause during the day, if only for a moment. 

Our parish staff takes five at Noon to pray the Angelus.

- Keep a Rosary or a medal in your pocket. 

Reach for it when things get crazy.

- Talk to Jesus through the day. This is a way to remind yourself 

of God’s presence and to develop the habit of realizing, you are never alone.

- On the way home, reflect on the day, both what’s behind 

and still ahead. Ask the Holy Spirit to give you a second wind.

- Be sure to give yourself a few minutes before bed to look back, 

ask forgiveness and give thanks for the ups and downs of the day.

Of course, there is more to prayer than this. 

This is just how you get your foot on the first rung of the ladder.

Now, the other thing I’m supposed to do this weekend is invite you 

to make a commitment to the Catholic Ministry Appeal. 

You know about this. 

This provides for St. Rita School for the Deaf, 

for our seminary, for our retired priests, 

for Catholic Social Services which provides help to people in trouble, 

including here in Shelby County,

for hospital and prison chaplains, for outreach on college campuses, 

and for other evangelization efforts.

We have parishioners who have benefited from St. Rita, 

we have parishioners who have been in our seminary or are there now, 

we have people who quietly seek out help from Catholic Social Services, 

and a lot of our kids are away at college.

This is help that stays close to home.

There are pledge forms and envelopes in the pews. 

Feel free to fill one out and include it in today’s collection, 

or mail it in later.

Let me add one more point about prayer. 

As important as a plan is, such as what I outlined to a moment ago, 

that never gets anywhere without something far more basic. 

And that is desire.

So, if you’re having a hard time getting out of the starting gate, 

then here is my very simple advice. And it will work if you follow it:

Start with this short prayer: “Jesus, give me the desire.”

That is, for a habit of prayer, for a deeper spiritual life, 

for the grace to kick the habit of going to dark places online, 

whatever it is.

Five words: “Jesus, give me the desire.”

Say it over and over, a hundred times a day. That’s how it starts.

“Jesus, give me the desire.”

What's love got to do with it? (Sunday homily)

 Jeremiah had to do it, and so did Jesus.

That is, they had to say things that upset people.

But the reason they did it wasn’t just to stir the pot.

It was out of love for the people who needed to be woken up.

 

So, before you get into an argument with someone – especially online – ask this question: 

how is what I am saying fundamentally about loving this person I’m talking to?

You could even start that way. Instead of leading with, “you’re wrong!”

Begin with, “because I care about you, I want to say thus-and-so…”

Ah, but that takes more work:

you and I have to stop and process that question: 

what has love got to do with whatever I’m going to say? 

See, everything you and I stand for, as Catholics – 

everything we get beat up for believing – is about love.

God’s love for us, and a proper love on our part for each other.

So, for example, consider what we say about marriage.

That, in turn, is directly related to what a man is, what a woman is.

Sexual love is properly shared between a husband and a wife. 

There is another love – it’s called friendship – 

which is proper for two men, and for two women.

Yet another love that is proper being parents and children,

and between brothers and sisters. 

So, consider the popular slogan: “love is love.”

That makes people feel good, but that is actually a lie.

The love of married couples is NOT the same as love between siblings.

And lying is never the loving thing to do.

Here’s the hard truth no one wants to say:

Because men and women are different – 

they complement each other, but they are not interchangeable – 

then, when two people of the same sex attempt marriage,

there are some essential things that are missing.

And people will say, oh those don’t matter. 

But we know that’s not true, because many same-sex couples themselves go looking, 

outside their relationship, for precisely those missing elements.

So, we all saw a picture of the Secretary of Transportation, 

Pete Buttigieg, with his “husband” and two newborn children.

Everyone said, how wonderful!

But what was intentionally excluded from that happy picture? 

The mother of those children. 

Men need women to compensate for their weaknesses, 

and women need men for the same reason.

If you are wondering what love is: it is to seek the good of the other.

And again, a hard truth: the good of you, the good of me, 

is rarely “self-fulfillment.” The true good I need is self-DENIAL.

So, when you or I just nod and go along with today’s false values,

that is easier, but how is that the loving thing to do?

So many people say, I’ll just create my own reality.

That sounds great, but it’s an illusion. 

After 80, 90, 100 or so years, we all die,

and then we face Ultimate and Unyielding Reality.

Then, either our choices in this life prepared us for God’s Reality, 

and then we will be happy forever!

Or else, our choices shaped us at cross-purposes to God’s Reality, 

and that means eternal misery.

Yes, these are hard things to say, and people may not accept them.

But remember when Jesus said the tough things he did, 

at the same time, he was planning to die on the Cross, 

for the people to whom he spoke.

Jesus gives you the best access (Sunday homily)

 First, let me say that I am still recovering from Covid. 

My energy levels are low. 

I’m very grateful for so many prayers and so much love, thank you! 

This will be a short homily.

Second, this is the weekend to announce 

the Catholic Ministries Appeal. 

I’ve written more about this in the bulletin. 

You know about this: 

it supports several very worthy causes in our archdiocese, 

and you’ve always been generous in supporting them. 

Remember that when we exceed the goal, 

a portion of that comes back to St. Remy 

and we use that for our youth programs.

Now let me talk about the readings. 

If you are enough of a bigshot in politics, 

you might be able to have dinner with the President to give him advice. 

If you write a big enough check, 

you can get one of those fancy suites 

at the Bengals stadium, protected from the weather, 

and have a waiter to bring you drinks and snacks whenever you want.

But notice what Jesus does. 

He doesn’t just call us VIPs who can sit close to him. 

He makes us part of him: members of his Body! 

What could be closer or more intimate? 

And it doesn’t require a million-dollar check. 

This privilege isn’t only for a few. 

Anyone, no matter how lowly or disreputable, can have this access.

And yet how many Catholics, treated so royally by Jesus, 

disregard his generosity? 

He asks that you and I come be with him once a week, 

but many find that too much to ask. 

Since you and I are a part of him, 

of course that calls for living holy lives – 

but we don’t want to be too different from the world around us. 

If people had to pay money for this access, 

perhaps they would value it more?

Remember what Saint Paul said to you today: 

“You are Christ’s body, and individually parts of it.”

There is nothing anyone in the world can say, or do, 

to change that great honor and dignity! 

There is no one who can take away that good news! 

Jesus' baptism and your identity (Sunday homily)

 Today we recall when Jesus showed up 

on the banks of the Jordan River and asked to be baptized.

We might wonder, first: why did he do this, 

and second, why is this important to us? What does it mean?

John was baptizing people as an act of repentance. 

They were confessing their sins along the way.

So: they were, in a sense, going to confession.

The shocker is to see the Lord Jesus get in that line.

Jesus puts himself squarely with us, in our situation. 

He does not hesitate at all.

This is also about Jesus showing himself as the new Adam.

The first Adam rebelled and failed to keep God’s law, 

and that set the whole, sorry story of human history in motion. 

Here, Jesus does the exact opposite.

This Adam is obedient. He fully does his Father’s will. 

And, most astounding, Jesus accepts the punishment for sin 

that otherwise was due to Adam and the rest of us.

So, when Jesus came to be baptized, he accepted 

his vocation as the faithful Son, the new Adam, the Messiah.

That included the Cross.

Remember something else John said on this occasion:

“Behold the Lamb of God”!

I hear you saying, “Fine, but what does this have to do with ME?”

When you and I were baptized, we became part of Jesus, 

born again of water and the Holy Spirit. 

So, I ask you: will you respond to God as Jesus did?

Will you embrace the life you have been given?

Will you take up the Cross? Will you be a witness to Jesus?

Maybe you never gave much thought to your baptism. 

Think about it now. 

At a certain point, each of us must decide 

to make the commitment of baptism our own. 

So, in case it wasn’t clear, this is why I sprinkled you with Holy Water. 

And, in case you never realized it, 

when we recite the Creed in a moment, 

you and I are confirming our baptism.

Something else happens when we are baptized.

You and I become part of Jesus, and we gain God as our Father.

Saint Paul said we become “heirs of hope of eternal life.”

When Paul calls us “heirs,” that is no metaphor.

He means that literally.

Children not only inherit all the stuff their parents owned, 

they inherit all that their parents are.

When children are conceived and born, 

What do people say? “You have your mother’s eyes!”

“You look just like your daddy!”

And as we grow to adulthood, like it or not, we become a lot like them.

So, to be “heirs” with Jesus, means that when the Father said, 

"You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased,”

He didn’t only say it to Jesus. He said it to you and me, too!

That’s what the Father said – of you – when you were baptized.

It is what he says every time you and I go to confession.

Each of us has moments of doubt.

Maybe you are single and wondering, what does God have for me?

Are you called to be a priest or in religious life?

That seems so scary, and you may think, I’m not holy enough.

Or you are married

and you despair of ever being a good enough parent. 

Every mistake is always on your mind.

Perhaps you are a young person, and you hate being asked, 

“what are you going to do with your life?” Because you have no clue!

Let’s talk about how, in recent years, so many people are “coming out” 

and saying, “I’m gay,” or “I’m trans” and the like. 

So many of us are bewildered. We’re told, just say it’s great.

We react with jokes or just trying to wave it all away.

These developments are part of a much broader problem: 

more and more people simply do not know who they are. 

By that I mean: they are losing the thread of what it means 

to be human, as opposed to being just another animal.

They are losing the realization that they – we – are a child of God.

And by that, I mean, a God who relates to us 

and acts in our lives and wants you and I me to know him.

A lot of the anger and dislocation in our society is a product of this:

that people who were created to be loved, are starved for that love.

Without stable, secure, family love, they don’t know who they are.

Sooner or later, each of us will meet a family member or friend 

who says he or she can’t relate comfortably with the opposite sex.

They are so disoriented 

that they don’t know if they are male or female.

Don’t dismiss them. Embrace them! Walk with them. And tell them:

Jesus got in line with you! He takes up your cross with you!

The Holy Spirit came down on you!

And the Father says to you: “You are my beloved child. 

With you I am well pleased!”

Truly home (Christmas homily)

 This time of year, there is a strong emphasis on “home.”

It’s great to have our college students and many others back again.

Welcome home!

Many years ago, a singer named Perry Como sang a song, 

“Home for the Holidays.” 

Like so many Christmas songs, it was catchy and made you feel good, 

but otherwise, it doesn’t seem to say much.

Yet the more I thought about it, 

I realized there is a lot more to that idea of “home” and Christmas.

It isn’t just some of us who are away from home.

Every single one of us is.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

And he created a place for humanity – to be home with him. 

The Book of Genesis calls that the “garden.”

That’s a good name; that sounds like someplace we want to be.

As we know, our first parents were not content to stay there.

Their lack of trust led them to sin and they chose a path away;

They left the Garden; they left home.

And all the rest of the story is God longing to bring us home!

He called to Noah, to Abraham, to Jacob, to Moses.

God made covenants with them, to give them – and us –

what the cold world of time cannot give us:

Forgiveness of sins, reconciliation, and eternal life.

In the Gospel of John, while Jesus is talking to his fellow Jews,

He says something odd: 

“Your Father Abraham saw my day and rejoiced in it.”

What could that mean?

It means this:

That when God called out to Abraham, saying, “I’m here, I’m here!”

In that call was a promise that God would one day really be here – 

for Abraham and everyone else – not just in a prophecy or a ritual, 

but in flesh and blood. 

In other words, it’s always been about the Incarnation: 

God becoming one of us.

And it’s always been about the Cross, 

because what does it mean to say God is with us,

if it doesn’t include the full measure of suffering and death?

Even so: dying with us is cold consolation, if that’s the end.

I’m dying, you’re dying? We’re all dead.

So it was always about Resurrection, which means,

not Jesus rising and escaping our humanity,

but Jesus rising and living, forever, in our humanity!

That gives his name, Emmanuel, God-with-us, even more meaning.

 

God came and made his home with us in our exile;

always with us, often hidden, often ignored.

Or else, despised and rejected: on the Cross, and down to the present.

This is his birthday. How many will have a great party, but ignore him?

How sad that so many people know the word, “Christmas,” 

but not what it refers to?

What good is a “season of lights” 

that is about no more than electricity or candles?

God came to make his home with us, for one more purpose:

To bring you and me home: home to him.

Remember what I’ve been saying all Advent: this is about the Kingdom.

This is about our forever-after.

That is “joy to the world”;

Only God’s life filling our lives can mean “peace on earth.” 

And what you and I see before our eyes – 

what the prophets and patriarchs

could only glimpse darkly, as in a mirror – 

that is what makes us fall silent on this (Christmas) night.

This church, this place, 

this circle of familiar faces, is our home – for now.

Yet we are not yet home, and God is not content to leave us here.

With baptism, you and I became citizens, not of this place,

But of that Place – of heaven.

In the incarnation, God became man;

By faith in Jesus, following him, you and I will become God!

Sharers in everything God has to share, even his own infinite life!

All the sacraments serve to restore us and to prepare us, 

to make us long all the more for our true home,

the home of which this home is a shadow and a promise.

I am so glad you are here. We are all glad to be together.

We all try so hard to make Christmas special,

to make everything sparkle and glow.

As hard as we try, it is never enough. It never can be.

Christmas isn’t about satisfying our longing,

but rather making us hunger and thirst all the more:

We want to go home! 

To be with Jesus, not just for a few golden hours, but forever.

Grace is the hidden power of the Kingdom (Sunday homily)

 As you have heard me say at least once in recent weeks, 

Advent is fundamentally about the Kingdom of Christ, 

not merely about Christmas. 

I say that because Christmas itself is only important 

because it’s about the Kingdom.

That’s why Jesus was born: his Kingdom is sill being formed.

So, it may sound strange, 

but even with Christmas so close, keep your gaze on the far horizon!

A great day of justice and fulfillment still lies ahead.

Every time you and I get angry about suffering 

Or dispirited by injustice,

that is yet another reminder to look, not back, but forward.

And what I want to highlight today is the hidden power of the Kingdom: that power is grace.

What is grace? 

Grace is God’s own life and love, 

at work in the world, and in us, to change us and make us like God.

This is my Android tablet. I don’t use it as much as I used to,

and I haven’t plugged it in lately. As a result, it has no juice. It’s dead.

What electricity does for this device 

is a lot like what grace does for you and me. 

Without God’s grace, you and I would not merely be dead; 

in fact, without grace, we would not “be,” at all! 

It is God’s grace that causes you to exist, me to exist,

this world to exist, for this world to reveal him to us,

and ultimately, for him to come into this world to save you and me.

The same grace that filled Mary from her first moment 

is what sent Gabriel to her at the appointed time.

And then in Elizabeth, and in the unborn child, John, all grace at work!

You may not think you are important, 

just as people didn’t think that little town of Bethlehem was important.

But God’s grace decided differently.

It is grace that stirs up your heart to long for God, 

to know you need him and to turn to him in repentance.

It is God’s grace that lifts your heart when you hear his word.

It was grace that led your parents to bring you to be baptized,

and through that baptism, grace entered your life 

and made you a child of God.

The great struggle of this world is between sin and grace.

Sin corrupts and destroys, but grace brings us back to life and, 

more than that, leads us to eternal life, life beyond life.

Grace is the hidden power at work in the world.

It is the greatest power in the world;

And that power is given to you, day by day – 

in every possible way, but above all in the sacraments – 

to bring you safely home.

To be a Christian is not only to believe in that hidden mystery, 

but to know that with certainty that grace is real, 

to see what otherwise remains unseen, 

and because of that, to find courage, hope, and joy, no matter what.

That’s why it’s important to celebrate Christmas as a down-payment: 

a foretaste of all that lies ahead.

It’s so fitting that we decorate everything with lights.

And it’s not too late to add more! 

Why?

Because every added light is a small step toward the brilliance 

of the Kingdom in which each of us is a citizen. 

Although we haven’t been there yet, that kingdom is our home.

It is where we belong. It is where we are heading.

John the Baptist and Kingdom Joy (Sunday homily)

When John was stomping around on the banks of the Jordan, 

he was a spectacle. 

He wore strange clothes – camel hair – and he ate locusts. 

Just to be clear: that’s not just weird today, 

that was strange back then.

And John knew that. 

He was like the people you meet who are in religious life. 

They wear funny clothes, just like I wear a cassock: 

it makes you stand out. That’s part of the point.

John was trying to make clear that he stood apart. 

When you make the Sign of the Cross in a restaurant, 

you’re doing the same, 

which is why some people don’t want to be seen saying grace.

John was willing to be a spectacle. 

And you can just imagine some number of the people who came out, 

came for that reason, to see a show.

I can just picture some teenage boys, standing off to one side, 

whispering and snickering, can’t you?

And then John would pick somebody out in the crowd.

He’d fix his eyes right on you, pinning you to the wall!

“You soldier! You farmer! You student! You parent! 

You came to see me dump water on people 

but one is coming after me who's going to pour fire!

Are you ready for Him?”

And notice when John was challenging people, 

the Gospel said it was “good news”: why? 

The keynote of this Sunday, 

in the readings and in the prayers, is joy, rejoicing. 

That's what the rose-colored vestments signify. 

Let me just explain that joy isn't the same as feeling up,

being in a good mood, being all sparkly and bubbly.

If you've lost someone you love, if you have work problems, 

family problems, health problems, or other issues, 

it can be really hard to be chirpy and cheerful, 

especially at this time of year. 

So, just to be clear, that’s OK.

You have permission not to be all Suzy Sunshine. 

Because joy isn’t about a mood or your personality.

It’s down deep, like bedrock, and it doesn’t change from day to day.

This is where what John the Baptist was saying ties in.

What John was offering is the path to true joy:

getting right with God; getting right with your parents, your family, 

your friends, and the people you work with.

So now, this is my John the Baptist-spectacle moment.

I want to do whatever it takes to grab you.

What do you think?

Should I march up and down the aisle like a TV preacher, 

hooting and hollering? That could be fun!

Oh, what a scandal! People would talk!

The point is, I want you to hear that invitation.

This sermon isn’t for someone else, it’s for YOU. 

I may not be able to look everyone in the eye, 

but the Holy Spirit can speak to you in a way I cannot.

You want that true joy, that deep-down joy?

Go to confession. 

John would have said, get baptized.

And if you’ve never been baptized, 

then talk to me about becoming a Christian. 

But most of us are already baptized, 

so, for us, it’s renewing that new birth.

That’s what confession is.

Knowing you are at peace with God, at peace with others?

That is joy!

And don’t wait till the last minute. 

It’s the same every year, right in the last few days, 

it’s like check-out at Wal-Mart!

It’s OK, But I’m saying, if you come THIS week,

you can get a jump on last-minute rush. 

Don’t worry that you can’t remember how. I’ll help you!

You know what my best Christmas gift is?

Someone comes to confession, it’s been a long time,

he or she is really burdened, overwhelmed, 

and then gets to be quit of it all! In a few minutes! 

Every priest will tell you; we can sense that huge weight sliding off!

I’m not saying, come to confession for me.

I’m saying, you’re waiting in line, sweating, all churned up,

and you’re wondering, what will the priest think? 

I’m thinking, this is a really good day! God just made my week!

That’s joy for me; that’s joy for you!

What is 'Kingdom Justice'? (Sunday homily)

 As I said last week, this time of year – Advent and Christmas – 

is all about pointing toward the Kingdom Jesus will one day establish.

Today, I want to talk about the first reading mentions: JUSTICE.

What is Kingdom Justice?

God’s Justice is complete in a way human justice cannot be.

We have a “justice system”: 

police, courts, lawyers, judges, and prisons.

It isn’t perfect; it gets abused sometimes.

“We the people” are ultimately in charge,

and if we get mad enough, and mobilized enough,

you and I can change those laws and the judges and the prosecutors.

This is a good time to make a key point:

As Christians, it is our duty 

to bring as much of God’s justice as we can into this world. 

You and I cannot make this world perfect, 

but that doesn’t mean we can’t make it better than it is.

And one of the things we will answer for, before God, 

is whether we made any attempts, whether we ever lifted our voice, 

or put ourselves out to bring more justice, more healing, in our world.

Even when our system of justice is at its best,

no human process or punishment can undo the injuries done.

At the end of the road, we send someone to prison,

or perhaps even execute someone.

As you know, the last several popes and our bishops 

have called for abolition of the death penalty if possible.

The reason is not that some people don’t deserve the worst penalty – 

because some certainly do deserve it –

but because killing people, if we don’t have to, 

doesn’t help us respect the dignity of human life.

But the main point I want to make is that in the end, 

the most our justice system can do is punish. 

We call prisons “penitentiaries,” in hope of bringing reform. 

But if you take a close look at prison life – if you can stomach it – 

you will see how powerless you and I are at bringing true justice.

Terrible people go to prison and they hone their skills at evil.

The good news is that some people do experience grace in prison.

They hit bottom and finally call out to God.

God’s justice isn’t only punishment, but healing.

God’s justice is holiness and wholeness.

There is no criminal so vile that God does not long to restore.

It’s very hard to comprehend how God does this.

There is both the human side and the God side of the process.

The part we understand is that sin and wrong do need punishment, 

there do need to be consequences. 

Sometimes – I emphasize, sometimes – this happens in this life.

People may seem to get off easy, but God is not fooled.

This is the mercy of purgatory – and I emphasize, mercy!  

Purgatory is the perfect example of God’s justice, 

in contrast to human justice,  

because purgatory isn’t only punishment, it is healing.

Think of the thief on the cross, dying next to Jesus.

We don’t know what crimes he committed, 

but they could be the most horrendous you can imagine. 

The human side was, he was punished – terribly!

But then there’s the divine side:

God was nailed to the Cross next to that thief!

It wasn’t an accident: Jesus chose to die with and for that man!

That’s the God side. You and I could never pay what we owe.

God pays for us!

Two criminals died with Jesus that day, on either side.

One rejected him and all he offered.

The other cried out for mercy and was told, 

This day you will be with me in Paradise!

Does that mean the good thief had no purgatory?

No. He was crucified, so that may have been his purgatory.

Or, for all we know, his purgatory and ours 

takes but an instant in earthly terms. 

So finally, we come to the frightening scene in the Gospel.

The upheaval it shows is what happens when God’s Justice meets worldly injustice! 

But notice Jesus says, you and I can stand before him, unafraid! 

How?

On that day, we need not be ashamed, 

if we chose to stand for His Justice, and to live it,

while we wait and pray for the coming of his Kingdom.

To enter the Kingdom requires radical conversion (Christ the King homily)

 Today is the feast of Christ the King and then we go into Advent.

I know you’ve heard people say, 

Advent is about preparing for Christmas.

But the truth is, Advent isn’t primarily about Christmas.

When you hear the readings next week,

they are going to sound a lot like this week’s readings,.

and they aren’t about the birth of Jesus.

Rather, we heard just now about the end of time,

when Jesus, the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last,

brings down the final curtain on this world.

The truth is, Advent does NOT point to Christmas.

Advent and Christmas both point to what today is about: the Kingdom.

So, I decided that would be a good theme for a series of homilies.

As we head toward Christmas, I invite you to reflect on the Kingdom.

What is the Kingdom?  What do we mean by that?

We’ll have some Bible-study materials available from Scott Hahn, 

which will fill in a lot of interesting background from the Scriptures.

But let’s start with words you and I pray daily, 

“thy kingdom come, they will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

First, notice those words from the Lord’s Prayer:

We pray that when Jesus reigns, earth and heaven will be united, 

and God’s ways will rule earth the same way God rules heaven.

That’s not true now.

Also, did you notice in the opening prayer, 

it referred to “restor(ing) all things, 

and freeing “the whole creation…from slavery”?

In a few minutes, when I am at the altar, 

you’ll hear reference to “a kingdom of truth and life…

a kingdom of holiness and grace…justice, love and peace.”

These are some glimpses of what the Kingdom is about.

Let’s focus in on the Gospel, because it shows, if you will,

the two Kingdoms face-to-face: the Kingdom of this world, 

and the Kingdom of God.

It’s a shame this Gospel reading stops where it does.

After Jesus said, “I came to bear witness to the truth,”

what did Pilate say back, remember? “What is truth?”

If that isn’t the perfect statement of this world’s values!

It’s a shame to say it, but just because CNN, NBC, and even Fox, 

all call themselves “News,” 

that is no guarantee that what they disseminate 

has any close connection to the truth!

It’s not just the media! There are a lot of us who are oh-so-ready 

to believe and spread dirt when it confirms our biases. 

What do we say? “Oh, I just knew it!”

In a kingdom of truth, justice and love, 

we are SLOW to believe the worst. 

And even slower to repeat it, and never revel in it.

Keep looking at this confrontation between Pilate and Jesus.

Pilate has thousands of soldiers at his command.

He can – and will – have Jesus beaten and killed.

And he’s just one part of a vast machine of cruelty.

That’s worldly power. That’s the Kingdom of Man.

And yet Pilate hesitates. 

He is standing before a reality he cannot comprehend.

Why doesn’t this “king” defend himself? 

How could he possibly defeat almighty Rome?

And how can this Jesus be so calm, while I am quaking?

Did Pilate realize that all the things 

he counted as “strength” were utterly powerless?

Jesus is unshaken because he knows Pilate’s moment will be brief.

The same with Rome and every other human ambition.

His strategy is not to break backs but to change hearts.

His army is the martyrs. His most powerful weapon is forgiveness!

Jesus was barely comprehensible to Pilate, 

but that should not surprise us. 

When you look out through worldly eyes, 

God’s ways are, indeed, going to look very strange.

So, this week’s lesson of the Kingdom 

is that to enter it means conversion. 

Meaning, you see differently. 

And you end up at sharp angles to worldly values.

I am not talking about a slight course correction.

A lot of folks think to be a Christian just means 

adding a little prayer and religious talk, 

a baptism here, a first communion and confirmation there, 

and putting in some hours at Mass through the year

if it doesn’t conflict with something that is actually important!

Doing just enough to keep your spouse happy and look respectable.

Boy, are they wrong! They could never stand before Pilate!

And I don’t even mean the Pilate in the Gospel.

How about the Pilate at work who says, “so, you’re a Catholic, huh?”

Or at school who mocks the Rosary to see if anyone says anything.

The Kingdom of Pilate is respectable. It’s how the world works.

Or you can have that so-called king who is abandoned, 

who the crowd is laughing at, 

who looks like a freak compared to Pilate!

What is the very best sign God can give? (Sunday homily)

 Throughout time, there have always been people scavenging 

for every possible clue for God’s timetable for the future.

Today’s Gospel is, as they say, “red meat” for that hunger. 

People want to know how this world will end, and the new ushered in.

In short, people want signs. Show me a sign, they kept telling Jesus.

In our time, if people hear about a statue crying,

or someone shares a picture of a miraculous tortilla,

everyone comes from all over to see it.

And these things can be genuine. Or not. I can’t say.

What I can say is this. You want a sign?

Jesus has already given you and me 

the best of all signs, the absolute best. 

There is nothing greater he can still give than what he’s already given. 

He came. He died. He rose from the dead!

He sent his Apostles and others in his name,

telling them: “Do THIS in memory of me.”

I’m talking about the Holy Mass. The Most Holy Eucharist!

You want a sign?

That’s the absolute best you can get.

There is no need for anything more. 

Jesus’ gift of the Eucharist 

is as full and complete a confirmation as God can give.

The only “more” we can hope for is heaven itself. 

This weekend we are having Forty Hours, 

with the Lord Jesus on the altar to adore.

Use your imagination now.

If the monstrance were on the altar right now, 

you would see the pale, white disc of the Sacred Host. 

This truly is Jesus’ Body and Blood. No shilly-shallying around. 

The Eucharist is Jesus, himself.

Yes, while retaining the physical qualities of bread or wine, 

but after all, would you really prefer to see bloody flesh?

In your mind, see the Sacred Host, as if he were on the altar now.

And what if you and I could step up to the monstrance, 

and do what Alice in the story, Alice in Wonderland, did.

Remember that? She drew close to the mirror and stepped through it.

What if somehow you and I could “step into” 

the monstrance on the altar, and pass beyond?

Where would we be? The answer is heaven! Heaven!

You want a “sign”? The Eucharist is Jesus: 

the fullness of God and all his promises. There is nothing more.

On Christmas we might look around for one more present.

But no, there is nothing more to look for than the Eucharist!

So, if you ever have said, God give me a sign!

Show me, prove to me, that you love me, 

that I matter, that I can dare to hope: 

the Most Holy Eucharist is that sign!

This is “Vocations Awareness” week.

Everyone knows we need more priests, more religious.

There are so many young men I’ve watched grow up.

From my perspective, I think you’d be fine priests, and I’ve told you so.

I stop bringing it up when you bring your fiancé by to meet me!

But I can’t really know. Only God can give that call.

What I want to say is, men, if you want to make a difference,

if you want to leave a legacy and change lives,

being a priest is an awesome way to do it.

And you are privileged to be right there, at the altar – 

and, just as much, at the Upper Room, 

and at the Cross, and at the empty tomb.

He is the “Sign” of all signs.

You get to be the bringer, the sharer, of this Sign.

I won’t kid you. There’s work. There’s sadness and sacrifice.

There’s times of tedium and misunderstanding.

But, oh what a life! You get to be his companion along the way!

And I want to say about the religious life for brothers and sisters.

The task of those in religious life is likewise to be a sign.

Not THE Sign; that’s Jesus. You are the “sign of the Sign.”

Your vows are all about trying to live – as fully as possible – 

a life full of heaven while here on earth.

Now, I’m going to say here something “politically incorrect.”

Some of our religious orders have lost their way.

Don’t let that discourage you. 

There are many communities that are 

full of zeal and joy to know Jesus and make him known.

To serve others in so many ways.

They don’t hide who they are, 

and the center of their common life is the Holy Eucharist.

It’s not for everyone. But if some part of you longs for…MORE, 

then maybe it’s the religious life you hunger for.

And if you don’t at least TRY it, you’ll always wonder, what if?

If you call me, I’ll get you connected.

Don’t worry, they don’t lock you in the convent or seminary!

And I’m not going to start calling you like a telemarketer!

In a moment, we’ll witness the wonder of Jesus offering himself 

on the Cross and at the same time, on the altar.

And then if we are ready, spiritually – I mean, in a state of grace – 

He gives himself to us. Total gift. All of God and heaven.

All of love. All of hope. All there is to give!