Sorry folks, it's just busy.
I'll do what I can to bring you up to date...
>Sunday, the Feast of Christ the King, is one of my favorite feast days. In my homily, I explained the origins of the day--established by Pope Pius XI in 1925, amidst a rising tide of statism and totalitarianism. I told the story of the German-American priest who wrote the hymn, "To Jesus Christ Our Sovereign King," written as a heart-felt rebuttal to the darkness overtaking his German homeland about that time. I also cited the oppression of the Church in Mexico about that time--where, when you said, "Viva Christo Rey!" it was right before you heard the crack of the rifle at your execution.
Then I talked about the challenges we face today; citing how when we exercised our rights and had an impact on abortion funding in the health-care bill, enraged members of Congress threatened the Church for daring to speak up. And I cited how the city of Washington, D.C., is preparing to redefine marriage, and compel everyone to go along with that, and the Archdiocese of Washington said, not so fast--we won't be able to provide social services the city currently pays us to provide. And that provoked vitriol from the powerful Washington Post. And I cited the member of Congress who calls us "bigots" for insisting marriage is man-woman.
I talked about what our Lord said in the Gospel--all who live in the truth hear my voice--but many today respond as Pilate did: "what is truth?" can we know it? The Lord will return--and it is our job to bring as many as possible to faith, so they receive his coming with joy, not dread. Who will share the truth with those hungry for it? That is our mission.
We lead others to Christ the King by making him king in our own lives. This is why many have an image of the Lord, a crucifix or the Sacred Heart, in their homes--declaring him king in that home. When we say grace in restaurants, our sign of the cross is a powerful witness. When we receive the Eucharist at Mass, he makes our hearts his throne, King in our own lives. Viva Christo Rey!
>I'm planning to go out of town in December, between the 8th and18th--I'm joining an Archdiocesan-sponsored trip to Mexico--so I have things to take care of before I go. One of which is scheduling meetings with staff, for an annual review. Remember, I'm an employer. It's good to do, I enjoy it, but it takes time and effort.
For example, a variety of things conspired today to require me to postpone an appointment for today, to tomorrow.
Oh, and I have things to do regarding the trip...all the usual things.
>Another project--we have a 24-hour chapel, with perpetual exposition of the Holy Eucharist--and I've been putting together a plan for some time to install new carpeting and some fresh paint. We have a group of volunteers to do it, led by a young man doing this for his Eagle Scout badge, and we finally got everything in place to go ahead. That will happen next week, from Dec. 1 to the 8th. So, today, I had to scramble to get the word out and get some stuff together for the bulletin. One of our active parishioners gave me a good suggestion, requiring, however, a change in plans--so that was today. Why today? Well, the bulletins have to be assembled tomorrow, due to Thanksgiving.
>Tonight, our parish liturgy commissions met for the third time. I started this recently, in response to requests and also because the time seemed right. Our plan borrows from the basic, Cursillo model: prayer, study, action. So the two commissions meet together, pray the Liturgy of the Hours together; then we study Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy from the Second Vatican Council; and down the road, after we've been well grounded in the Church's teaching and tradition, we will get to action. For example, I've been explaining to the folks about the new translation of the Mass coming down the pike.
That finished up at 8 pm; I checked in with the parochial vicar, covered some things, and then sat down to dinner--some leftover pork chops and some ramen noodles (cheap! easy! tasty!).
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
'Just enough...until the Lord sends rain' (Sunday homily)
(From notes)
In the first reading, the prophet Elijah asks for "a bit of bread"--
and when the widow hesitates, he promises
that her store "shall not run dry until the day when the Lord sends rain."
The text suggests that the promise is not that her supplies would overflow--
but that there would be just enough each day; until the rains come.
We might chose to see this passage symbolically--
with the rain as the Holy Spirit falling on the earth to bring life--revival.
We certainly need that.
We live in strange times, in which things we would have taken for granted
are under constant assault.
Who would have thought it would be necessary to vote to protect the institution of marriage;
and on Tuesday, the state of Maine did just that, by a close margin.
Father Tom and I were in Columbus on Thursday and Friday,
along with all the bishops of the state, and 700 priests from the whole state.
The U.S. bishops are preparing a letter on marriage,
and we were there to reflect on it and to prepare for when it is issued.
We heard some bad news about the state of things, and hopeful news.
On our drive back home, we talked about
how we could best use what we heard and talked about to help couples.
And I would ask you--tell us, what can we do to help you?
Whatever little bit you may have to offer, please share it with us. We want to help.
These are strange times. The faith of many seems so weak,
as people sometimes drift off and we wonder why.
We need rain; we need revival!
How will that come? Our prayers--our faith--offered for revival.
You may feel you haven't much to offer, but put it in, all the same.
If we continue to see this passage as symbolic,
we might see the woman as the Church, and the son as us.
It is here that we come, and we find enough to get us through.
In the back of church is a bit of bread. It's not very fancy;
we could get nicer, fancier bread at Panera, or make it ourselves--but that isn't the point.
The Lord takes just a handful, and transforms it into himself.
And it is enough! Enough to sustain us, day by day: "give us this day our daily Bread."
That's why we come here. We find what we need here.
And we put in what we have, while we pray for rain.
In the first reading, the prophet Elijah asks for "a bit of bread"--
and when the widow hesitates, he promises
that her store "shall not run dry until the day when the Lord sends rain."
The text suggests that the promise is not that her supplies would overflow--
but that there would be just enough each day; until the rains come.
We might chose to see this passage symbolically--
with the rain as the Holy Spirit falling on the earth to bring life--revival.
We certainly need that.
We live in strange times, in which things we would have taken for granted
are under constant assault.
Who would have thought it would be necessary to vote to protect the institution of marriage;
and on Tuesday, the state of Maine did just that, by a close margin.
Father Tom and I were in Columbus on Thursday and Friday,
along with all the bishops of the state, and 700 priests from the whole state.
The U.S. bishops are preparing a letter on marriage,
and we were there to reflect on it and to prepare for when it is issued.
We heard some bad news about the state of things, and hopeful news.
On our drive back home, we talked about
how we could best use what we heard and talked about to help couples.
And I would ask you--tell us, what can we do to help you?
Whatever little bit you may have to offer, please share it with us. We want to help.
These are strange times. The faith of many seems so weak,
as people sometimes drift off and we wonder why.
We need rain; we need revival!
How will that come? Our prayers--our faith--offered for revival.
You may feel you haven't much to offer, but put it in, all the same.
If we continue to see this passage as symbolic,
we might see the woman as the Church, and the son as us.
It is here that we come, and we find enough to get us through.
In the back of church is a bit of bread. It's not very fancy;
we could get nicer, fancier bread at Panera, or make it ourselves--but that isn't the point.
The Lord takes just a handful, and transforms it into himself.
And it is enough! Enough to sustain us, day by day: "give us this day our daily Bread."
That's why we come here. We find what we need here.
And we put in what we have, while we pray for rain.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
I'm sure you've heard about the lovely songs schools have taught the children to sing to our President. Since it's so popular to do these days, I thought of some additional lyrics they could sing:
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
He’s the Leader, he’s divine
And everyone should get in line
Or give them reeducation time!
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
Let the gummint take the lead
And provide for you your every need
Free to you, cuz the rich we’ll bleed!
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
Grammies looking a little wan
Here’s a counselor to help you plan
It’s patriotic, don’t you understand?
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Belated biretta-tip to Instapundit
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
He’s the Leader, he’s divine
And everyone should get in line
Or give them reeducation time!
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
Let the gummint take the lead
And provide for you your every need
Free to you, cuz the rich we’ll bleed!
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Barack Hussein Obama
Grammies looking a little wan
Here’s a counselor to help you plan
It’s patriotic, don’t you understand?
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
Belated biretta-tip to Instapundit
Monday, November 02, 2009
Reason #1,378...
not to take sharing your faith with your children for granted illustrated here.
(If you read closely, you'll see that both are Catholic...)
(If you read closely, you'll see that both are Catholic...)
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Other happenings on Omnium Sanctorum
I just ducked into the balcony of St. Mary Church for the second half of the Mass offered by our parochial vicar. I wanted to be there before the Liturgy of the Eucharist began, because our junior high choir was providing music at Sunday Mass for the first time. Our music director, who also teaches in the school, and I have been wanting to do this for some time--to have our schoolchildren form choirs and provide music as part of Mass regularly throughout the year. We of course want our schoolchildren to learn the importance of music as part of Mass, but we also hope this will reinforce the importance of Sunday Mass for all our families (it is a sad reality that some families will send their children to Catholic school but not attend Sunday Mass).
They did well--they sung the standard, Gregorian Sanctus and Agnus Dei--using the simplest setting that the bishops recommend be introduced into every parish; they led us in "Be Not Afraid" as a communion hymn and "For all the Saints" as a closing hymn. After communion they sang a more contemporary piece--the name of which I do not know--that is a meditation on the Lord's Prayer. It is a very nice piece and they did it well. After the final hymn, they sang a more rousing piece--again, I don't know the name, but if someone from our music program visits here, can you give that information in the comments?
These two contemporary pieces were well chosen and well done--and they belie the notion that we must choose either ancient or modern. The issue is not that modern or contemporary has no place, but rather, the right sort of music that is appropriate for the liturgy, and turns our hearts and minds not inward, but upward and forward--to the Lord who saves us. They did well!
Our vicar, Father Tom, also wore a new, brilliant vestment which was generously donated by the St. Mary Altar Society. I hope to have a photo of the vestment, as soon as I get someone to take a picture of me (or Father Tom) in it. The chasuble, stole and chalice veil were blessed--by me--right before 9 am Mass, and then I used them for the first time.
I obtained the vestment from Saint Bede Studio, after scanning the web for companies to have make a vestment for us. My goal was something a little different--and I was intrigued when I saw a style of chasuble on the St. Bede blog that was worn by St. Philip Neri, St. Charles Borromeo and St. Ignatius Loyola. If you go here, you'll see a post about "a priest from Ohio"--could that be me?--ordering a vestment remarkably similar to the one I obtained!
Later today, I'll stop by a picnic organized by some of our families, including the aforementioned music director and family. The gathering is notable for one feature--it's all our families with four or more children! With great thanks to God, we have a number of families who are--as I like to put it--doing their best to repopulate Western Civilization. It is tremendously encouraging to me and to all of us, and I look forward to stopping by.
Still later, the youth group will have a gathering, starting in the basement of the rectory-office at St. Boniface, focusing on the saints--and as part of that, we'll have a procession to the chapel for solemn Mass--the idea is to recall the catacombs experience of the early Church. After Mass, we'll have a bonfire and 'smores--which allegedly came down from the early Church, but I cannot find a citation for that just now...
They did well--they sung the standard, Gregorian Sanctus and Agnus Dei--using the simplest setting that the bishops recommend be introduced into every parish; they led us in "Be Not Afraid" as a communion hymn and "For all the Saints" as a closing hymn. After communion they sang a more contemporary piece--the name of which I do not know--that is a meditation on the Lord's Prayer. It is a very nice piece and they did it well. After the final hymn, they sang a more rousing piece--again, I don't know the name, but if someone from our music program visits here, can you give that information in the comments?
These two contemporary pieces were well chosen and well done--and they belie the notion that we must choose either ancient or modern. The issue is not that modern or contemporary has no place, but rather, the right sort of music that is appropriate for the liturgy, and turns our hearts and minds not inward, but upward and forward--to the Lord who saves us. They did well!
Our vicar, Father Tom, also wore a new, brilliant vestment which was generously donated by the St. Mary Altar Society. I hope to have a photo of the vestment, as soon as I get someone to take a picture of me (or Father Tom) in it. The chasuble, stole and chalice veil were blessed--by me--right before 9 am Mass, and then I used them for the first time.
I obtained the vestment from Saint Bede Studio, after scanning the web for companies to have make a vestment for us. My goal was something a little different--and I was intrigued when I saw a style of chasuble on the St. Bede blog that was worn by St. Philip Neri, St. Charles Borromeo and St. Ignatius Loyola. If you go here, you'll see a post about "a priest from Ohio"--could that be me?--ordering a vestment remarkably similar to the one I obtained!
Later today, I'll stop by a picnic organized by some of our families, including the aforementioned music director and family. The gathering is notable for one feature--it's all our families with four or more children! With great thanks to God, we have a number of families who are--as I like to put it--doing their best to repopulate Western Civilization. It is tremendously encouraging to me and to all of us, and I look forward to stopping by.
Still later, the youth group will have a gathering, starting in the basement of the rectory-office at St. Boniface, focusing on the saints--and as part of that, we'll have a procession to the chapel for solemn Mass--the idea is to recall the catacombs experience of the early Church. After Mass, we'll have a bonfire and 'smores--which allegedly came down from the early Church, but I cannot find a citation for that just now...
'The saints are the health of the world' (All Saints homily)
(I will recount my homily as best I can from memory, I had no notes.)
As it happens, we might call today "Health Sunday"--because I have a couple of items to share with you concerning our health--and this seems the best way to do it.
First. Given the flu season, there are many with concerns, and after talking to Father Tom and Father Ang, we wanted to offer the following precautions:
1) Since shaking hands is a very effective way to spread germs, please don't feel you have to shake hands at the sign of peace. This is a symbolic sign of the peace Christ gives us. If you are a little under the weather, or you aren't so sure about the nice person next to you, you don't have to shake hands--maybe a head-nod or a wave instead.
2) If you are feeling a little under the weather, and you don't come to Mass because you don't want to spread it, that's not a sin, that's being very considerate. If you know of anyone who isn't coming to Mass and would like to receive holy communion, call the parish office so we can do that.
3) If you came to Mass and you feel a little under the weather, you don't have to drink from the cup. We receive all of Jesus in the Eucharist, whether we receive the host or the cup. Not drinking from the cup when you're a little germ-y or cough-y is very considerate of others. If there is anyone for whom this creates a problem, please let me know after Mass.
4) We are so grateful for those who help distribute the Eucharist at Mass--and I would just suggest that they may want to get some hand-sanitizer and use it just before they come forward.
Second health item. This is something Archbishop Pilarczyk wants me to bring to your attention. We are all aware of Congress debating health-care legislation that will affect all of us. And for some time, the bishops have been raising the concern that whatever legislation is passed, it not include funding to promote or pay for abortions, among other concerns.
Unfortunately, thus far Congress has not heeded that concern--so the bills now under consideration would use our tax money to promote abortion. In your bulletins today is this orange handout (hold up handout)--it has other information on the back, so look at both sides--and it provides all the information you need. Also, it provides a way you and I can contact Congress right away to voice our views. As Catholics and as citizens, we have the right--and the duty--to speak up; and things are moving fast, so don't wait, we need to act now.
Now, what does all that about health have to do with the saints? I thought about that; and I realized: the saints are the health of the world. Everyone in this world who has the Holy Spirit active in his or her life, following the grace of Christ--that means all of us, but the saints especially, who do so in heroic ways--this is essential for the health of the world. Consider for a moment: what if, at midnight, everyone who followed the Lord ceased to be in the world? What would happen? What would the world be like? No one to be a peacemaker; no one to offer reconciliation in response to anger; no one to lead others in a life of discipline and holiness.
I don't want to think about that world, and thankfully, we won't find out--because the world is filled with Christians, and the grace of Christ is at work through us all--and the world needs us!
Who can forget when Mother Theresa won the Nobel Prize, and stood before the world, and said it was a terrible poverty to destroy children in abortion? What a difference St. Damien of Molokai, John Paul, Maximilian Kolbe, and so many others, have made in the world!
Now, there's another thing. How many saints are present, right here? I don't mean the saints who are present with us spiritually at Mass--I mean you! I know what you're thinking, "I'm not a saint!" But when you were baptized, you became a saint. As I tell the parents and godparents, that's the easy part; the hard part is staying a saint. That's why their task is so important.
But how blessed we are that God doesn't just give us one shot--and if we mess up after baptism, too bad, hope you have an asbestos suit for the afterlife! No! God gives us every possible help to persevere. We are made saints in baptism, and if we mess up, we can renew the newness of baptism in the sacrament of confession.
What if I told you that, if you stepped into the box back there, when you came out, all debts would be gone? I suspect some of us wouldn't wait for Mass to end--you'd be back there! Wouldn't that be wonderful? That's what happens in confession--the debt of sin, wiped away! How wonderful!
Above all, the Lord gives us the Eucharist--where we are united to the One who will take us to heaven. Through the Eucharist, we are joined to him--and as long as we hold onto him, we have nothing to fear, because he is taking us to heaven.
We are called to be saints. If we make it to heaven, that's what we'll be; there's no economy class in heaven! We will all be saints.
Think of those who run marathons. I don't run marathons, in case you haven't figured that out! But I've seen it done! What happens? The men and women who are running, maybe after 10, or 15 or so miles, they get tired, they flag, they are running down. And what do those who have finished the race do? They are standing there, saying, "come on! you can do it! you can make it! keep coming, keep running, don't give up, go, go go!"
That's what the saints are doing for us. They are cheering us on from heaven, supporting us with their prayers--they want us to make it! So that what the first reading from Revelation described is fulfilled: a number, too great to count, of all those who have been washed clean in the Blood of the Lamb, and who have overcome, are gathered together.
That's us! That's our hope.
As it happens, we might call today "Health Sunday"--because I have a couple of items to share with you concerning our health--and this seems the best way to do it.
First. Given the flu season, there are many with concerns, and after talking to Father Tom and Father Ang, we wanted to offer the following precautions:
1) Since shaking hands is a very effective way to spread germs, please don't feel you have to shake hands at the sign of peace. This is a symbolic sign of the peace Christ gives us. If you are a little under the weather, or you aren't so sure about the nice person next to you, you don't have to shake hands--maybe a head-nod or a wave instead.
2) If you are feeling a little under the weather, and you don't come to Mass because you don't want to spread it, that's not a sin, that's being very considerate. If you know of anyone who isn't coming to Mass and would like to receive holy communion, call the parish office so we can do that.
3) If you came to Mass and you feel a little under the weather, you don't have to drink from the cup. We receive all of Jesus in the Eucharist, whether we receive the host or the cup. Not drinking from the cup when you're a little germ-y or cough-y is very considerate of others. If there is anyone for whom this creates a problem, please let me know after Mass.
4) We are so grateful for those who help distribute the Eucharist at Mass--and I would just suggest that they may want to get some hand-sanitizer and use it just before they come forward.
Second health item. This is something Archbishop Pilarczyk wants me to bring to your attention. We are all aware of Congress debating health-care legislation that will affect all of us. And for some time, the bishops have been raising the concern that whatever legislation is passed, it not include funding to promote or pay for abortions, among other concerns.
Unfortunately, thus far Congress has not heeded that concern--so the bills now under consideration would use our tax money to promote abortion. In your bulletins today is this orange handout (hold up handout)--it has other information on the back, so look at both sides--and it provides all the information you need. Also, it provides a way you and I can contact Congress right away to voice our views. As Catholics and as citizens, we have the right--and the duty--to speak up; and things are moving fast, so don't wait, we need to act now.
Now, what does all that about health have to do with the saints? I thought about that; and I realized: the saints are the health of the world. Everyone in this world who has the Holy Spirit active in his or her life, following the grace of Christ--that means all of us, but the saints especially, who do so in heroic ways--this is essential for the health of the world. Consider for a moment: what if, at midnight, everyone who followed the Lord ceased to be in the world? What would happen? What would the world be like? No one to be a peacemaker; no one to offer reconciliation in response to anger; no one to lead others in a life of discipline and holiness.
I don't want to think about that world, and thankfully, we won't find out--because the world is filled with Christians, and the grace of Christ is at work through us all--and the world needs us!
Who can forget when Mother Theresa won the Nobel Prize, and stood before the world, and said it was a terrible poverty to destroy children in abortion? What a difference St. Damien of Molokai, John Paul, Maximilian Kolbe, and so many others, have made in the world!
Now, there's another thing. How many saints are present, right here? I don't mean the saints who are present with us spiritually at Mass--I mean you! I know what you're thinking, "I'm not a saint!" But when you were baptized, you became a saint. As I tell the parents and godparents, that's the easy part; the hard part is staying a saint. That's why their task is so important.
But how blessed we are that God doesn't just give us one shot--and if we mess up after baptism, too bad, hope you have an asbestos suit for the afterlife! No! God gives us every possible help to persevere. We are made saints in baptism, and if we mess up, we can renew the newness of baptism in the sacrament of confession.
What if I told you that, if you stepped into the box back there, when you came out, all debts would be gone? I suspect some of us wouldn't wait for Mass to end--you'd be back there! Wouldn't that be wonderful? That's what happens in confession--the debt of sin, wiped away! How wonderful!
Above all, the Lord gives us the Eucharist--where we are united to the One who will take us to heaven. Through the Eucharist, we are joined to him--and as long as we hold onto him, we have nothing to fear, because he is taking us to heaven.
We are called to be saints. If we make it to heaven, that's what we'll be; there's no economy class in heaven! We will all be saints.
Think of those who run marathons. I don't run marathons, in case you haven't figured that out! But I've seen it done! What happens? The men and women who are running, maybe after 10, or 15 or so miles, they get tired, they flag, they are running down. And what do those who have finished the race do? They are standing there, saying, "come on! you can do it! you can make it! keep coming, keep running, don't give up, go, go go!"
That's what the saints are doing for us. They are cheering us on from heaven, supporting us with their prayers--they want us to make it! So that what the first reading from Revelation described is fulfilled: a number, too great to count, of all those who have been washed clean in the Blood of the Lamb, and who have overcome, are gathered together.
That's us! That's our hope.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
What else happened today?
Today was--for St. Boniface only--a very special day: we marked the anniversary of the dedication of St. Boniface Church, October 26, 1865. By Church law, this anniversary is for every parish a solemnity, of very high rank; thus, it can be transferred to a nearby Sunday, provided it is Ordinary Time.
So that is what we do, in each parish, each year. (St. Mary has its anniversary in June.)
What made it a little more special is that, for the past few years, St. Boniface has undergone some improvements. We had a bunch of repair and maintenance issues when I arrived, and the parish and I put together a list of projects, and we raised the money needed to get them done. Now we're working through them. And in the past year, some of those have been very noticeable: the stained-glass windows are in process of being restored, the exterior had some important work done, and some other projects not as noticeable.
So, it seemed like a good time to take note of some of that, and thank all who helped: so we had a Parish Brunch, after the 10:30 am Mass, to which all were invited, especially those who helped in the "Rebuild St. Boniface" fundraising effort. We made sure those who were out of town got an invitation mailed to them. And then, after the brunch, I gave a tour to anyone who wasn't up-to-speed on the projects, or had questions.
My homily for this Mass was different, because the readings were different. The readings all emphasize the sanctification of both the house of God, and the people of God--the twin themes of all the readings and prayers for the anniversary of the dedication of a church. My homily recalled the visit of Archbishop Purcell in 1865, and what an arduous journey that must have been in his day; and what an act of faith on the part of a small group of families, with limited resources, at a time when anti-Catholic bigotry was significant. I pointed out that about that same time, an anti-Catholic mob had burnt Sidney's Catholic church to the ground!
The Gospel was about Zacchaeus, short of stature, eager to see the Lord, and the Lord singled him out and said, I need to stay in your house today. And I pointed out that all the readings I'd chosen (although I hadn't noticed this when I chose them) talked about outsiders: the first reading, from Isaiah, talked about non-Jews being drawn to God's house; and Ephesians talked about being strangers no longer. And the reason God wanted this house of St. Boniface built was to bring in the outsiders, to make them "insiders"--part of his household. And we've been doing that all these years, but our mission remains the same.
Also, just as Jesus said to Zacchaeus, I need to stay in your house--he asks us to provide this house for him--he needs to be here. And from the first time the Holy Mass was offered in this church, Jesus has been in our house! What a thing to say! Yet it's true, for every Catholic church in the world! Jesus is in our house!
So when we wonder about our times, and we feel discouraged because of the economy, and we fear for the future--maybe we hear about the Mayan calendar and wonder if the world is going to end in 2012!--we might remember the act of faith of those who first built this house, and all that has happened since; and we might just remind ourselves: Jesus is in our house!
The task described by the readings--of bringing in the outsiders--is still ours today. Who will invite them? We will. Where will they sit? Right beside us. And what will we tell them, to get them to come? "Jesus is in our house!"
So that is what we do, in each parish, each year. (St. Mary has its anniversary in June.)
What made it a little more special is that, for the past few years, St. Boniface has undergone some improvements. We had a bunch of repair and maintenance issues when I arrived, and the parish and I put together a list of projects, and we raised the money needed to get them done. Now we're working through them. And in the past year, some of those have been very noticeable: the stained-glass windows are in process of being restored, the exterior had some important work done, and some other projects not as noticeable.
So, it seemed like a good time to take note of some of that, and thank all who helped: so we had a Parish Brunch, after the 10:30 am Mass, to which all were invited, especially those who helped in the "Rebuild St. Boniface" fundraising effort. We made sure those who were out of town got an invitation mailed to them. And then, after the brunch, I gave a tour to anyone who wasn't up-to-speed on the projects, or had questions.
My homily for this Mass was different, because the readings were different. The readings all emphasize the sanctification of both the house of God, and the people of God--the twin themes of all the readings and prayers for the anniversary of the dedication of a church. My homily recalled the visit of Archbishop Purcell in 1865, and what an arduous journey that must have been in his day; and what an act of faith on the part of a small group of families, with limited resources, at a time when anti-Catholic bigotry was significant. I pointed out that about that same time, an anti-Catholic mob had burnt Sidney's Catholic church to the ground!
The Gospel was about Zacchaeus, short of stature, eager to see the Lord, and the Lord singled him out and said, I need to stay in your house today. And I pointed out that all the readings I'd chosen (although I hadn't noticed this when I chose them) talked about outsiders: the first reading, from Isaiah, talked about non-Jews being drawn to God's house; and Ephesians talked about being strangers no longer. And the reason God wanted this house of St. Boniface built was to bring in the outsiders, to make them "insiders"--part of his household. And we've been doing that all these years, but our mission remains the same.
Also, just as Jesus said to Zacchaeus, I need to stay in your house--he asks us to provide this house for him--he needs to be here. And from the first time the Holy Mass was offered in this church, Jesus has been in our house! What a thing to say! Yet it's true, for every Catholic church in the world! Jesus is in our house!
So when we wonder about our times, and we feel discouraged because of the economy, and we fear for the future--maybe we hear about the Mayan calendar and wonder if the world is going to end in 2012!--we might remember the act of faith of those who first built this house, and all that has happened since; and we might just remind ourselves: Jesus is in our house!
The task described by the readings--of bringing in the outsiders--is still ours today. Who will invite them? We will. Where will they sit? Right beside us. And what will we tell them, to get them to come? "Jesus is in our house!"
True Joy (Sunday homily)
(From memory of what my now-misplaced notes said...)
The first reading and the psalm describe joy--
specifically, the joy God's People felt
when they were allowed to return from exile to their homeland.
As I reflected on the readings, I found myself thinking about
what things give us cause for joy?
Some things that are more permanent, others that are transitory--
such as a Buckeye's win: enjoy it while it lasts!
And I also found myself thinking about the moments I get to witness that joy, in you!
A week ago Saturday, we had a wedding--
and I got to see the joy in the face of the couple just as they gave their vows:
I get to see them the first instant they are married!
Then, some time later, I see their joy again when they return with a child to be baptized.
And I think about the joy of our second-graders,
when they first receive the sacrament of reconciliation;
they may not be able to explain fully what it means,
but you can see they experience real joy.
And then, of course, when they come for their first communion.
Even our 8th graders--they often want to keep cool, not show any emotion, but--
when they come before the Archbishop, and receive the sacrament of confirmation,
some of the hardest cases are grinning like kids on Christmas day!
These are all experiences of the Holy Spirit, of course--
but even these supernatural experiences of joy don't always last.
They can fade, whether because of spiritual inertia, or laziness,
or sin, or the busy-ness of life.
I remember the day of my own ordination as a priest--and what a joy that was.
But I have to admit, when I find my own joy isn't up where it had been,
it's pretty often because I need to get to confession,
or I need to stir up my prayer life, or look at how my priorities may be skewed.
The true cause for joy is not anything we receive, but the One who gives them.
That's what we saw in the Gospel. Bartimaeus received what he asked for--
and the Lord said, you can go your way;
and yet Bartimaeus didn't do that, he followed the Lord.
Because he came to see--once his eyes were opened--
that it was the Lord that he really wanted.
The question the Lord asked Bartimaeus, he asks us:
"What do you wish me to do for you?"
The first reading and the psalm describe joy--
specifically, the joy God's People felt
when they were allowed to return from exile to their homeland.
As I reflected on the readings, I found myself thinking about
what things give us cause for joy?
Some things that are more permanent, others that are transitory--
such as a Buckeye's win: enjoy it while it lasts!
And I also found myself thinking about the moments I get to witness that joy, in you!
A week ago Saturday, we had a wedding--
and I got to see the joy in the face of the couple just as they gave their vows:
I get to see them the first instant they are married!
Then, some time later, I see their joy again when they return with a child to be baptized.
And I think about the joy of our second-graders,
when they first receive the sacrament of reconciliation;
they may not be able to explain fully what it means,
but you can see they experience real joy.
And then, of course, when they come for their first communion.
Even our 8th graders--they often want to keep cool, not show any emotion, but--
when they come before the Archbishop, and receive the sacrament of confirmation,
some of the hardest cases are grinning like kids on Christmas day!
These are all experiences of the Holy Spirit, of course--
but even these supernatural experiences of joy don't always last.
They can fade, whether because of spiritual inertia, or laziness,
or sin, or the busy-ness of life.
I remember the day of my own ordination as a priest--and what a joy that was.
But I have to admit, when I find my own joy isn't up where it had been,
it's pretty often because I need to get to confession,
or I need to stir up my prayer life, or look at how my priorities may be skewed.
The true cause for joy is not anything we receive, but the One who gives them.
That's what we saw in the Gospel. Bartimaeus received what he asked for--
and the Lord said, you can go your way;
and yet Bartimaeus didn't do that, he followed the Lord.
Because he came to see--once his eyes were opened--
that it was the Lord that he really wanted.
The question the Lord asked Bartimaeus, he asks us:
"What do you wish me to do for you?"
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sunday homily: the power and beauty in suffering
For the second weekend in a row, I delivered my Sunday homily from a mental outline rather than a written text or page of notes, so...it's very hard to reconstruct my homily for you here. Perhaps if anyone heard my homily cares to recount what you heard? That might be interesting!
I began with the curiosity of our approach to suffering--we seem to embrace it, and that may be hard to explain to others, even to ourselves. Why do we do this?
Well, we do this of course because of what our Lord taught. But my next point was to describe how I, in reflecting on this, was led to recall the last years, and particularly the last days, of Pope John Paul II. Recall how he went from being so hale and strong, and gradually his body weakened, his back stooped, his appearance was contorted, until he could no longer walk or lift his arms, and in the end, he could no longer speak. Recall how there were those who said he should resign and retire, because he couldn't carry out his duties as Vicar of Christ! Instead, the late holy father understood quite well--far better than they it seems--how to represent Christ!
His last years and last days were his most powerful homily: demonstrating that life is worth living, and is beautiful, even amidst great suffering. I also talked about how we see this in so many people we love, who do the same in their own lives; how I saw that in my parents who, each in turn, faced their own decline and death with courage and faith.
Along the way, I recalled the saying my mother had, which often annoyed me as a child: "offer it up." Sometimes it served to confront me with the triviality of my claimed "sufferings"; but it also revealed a powerful truth about our Faith: that God has taken what otherwise would have no value, and transformed it--from death to life.
If God had not done this--if he had not embraced the cross and made it the path to salvation--then it would mean that for all the wonderful things we could tell the world about Christ, when it came to the thing that unites all humanity, all experience, when it comes to the trials and sufferings and persecutions that all endure, we--Christ--would having nothing to say to humanity.
Instead, by choosing the cross as the path of our redemption, God has placed himself at the very center of human experience. God has made the hard and difficult reality of the human condition central to his plan of salvation. He has turned death to life.
Also, God proposes for us a kind of exchange: bring our crosses, our trials, to Christ, and exchange them for his cross. By doing so, he takes our trials and suffering as his own--and we receive life! This is what happens at Mass: we are able to place, as it were, all our pain and difficulties on the altar, with the bread and wine; and Christ, who acts through the Mass, particularly through the priest, will offer it all, along with his own body and blood, as the sacrifice that takes away the sins of the world. Do you realize what that means? Our little, ordinary, seemingly meaningless trials and difficulties actually become part of saving the world!
That exchange is also what happens in receiving the Eucharist--we receive his Body and Blood. We give him our suffering and crosses; and he gives us life.
I began with the curiosity of our approach to suffering--we seem to embrace it, and that may be hard to explain to others, even to ourselves. Why do we do this?
Well, we do this of course because of what our Lord taught. But my next point was to describe how I, in reflecting on this, was led to recall the last years, and particularly the last days, of Pope John Paul II. Recall how he went from being so hale and strong, and gradually his body weakened, his back stooped, his appearance was contorted, until he could no longer walk or lift his arms, and in the end, he could no longer speak. Recall how there were those who said he should resign and retire, because he couldn't carry out his duties as Vicar of Christ! Instead, the late holy father understood quite well--far better than they it seems--how to represent Christ!
His last years and last days were his most powerful homily: demonstrating that life is worth living, and is beautiful, even amidst great suffering. I also talked about how we see this in so many people we love, who do the same in their own lives; how I saw that in my parents who, each in turn, faced their own decline and death with courage and faith.
Along the way, I recalled the saying my mother had, which often annoyed me as a child: "offer it up." Sometimes it served to confront me with the triviality of my claimed "sufferings"; but it also revealed a powerful truth about our Faith: that God has taken what otherwise would have no value, and transformed it--from death to life.
If God had not done this--if he had not embraced the cross and made it the path to salvation--then it would mean that for all the wonderful things we could tell the world about Christ, when it came to the thing that unites all humanity, all experience, when it comes to the trials and sufferings and persecutions that all endure, we--Christ--would having nothing to say to humanity.
Instead, by choosing the cross as the path of our redemption, God has placed himself at the very center of human experience. God has made the hard and difficult reality of the human condition central to his plan of salvation. He has turned death to life.
Also, God proposes for us a kind of exchange: bring our crosses, our trials, to Christ, and exchange them for his cross. By doing so, he takes our trials and suffering as his own--and we receive life! This is what happens at Mass: we are able to place, as it were, all our pain and difficulties on the altar, with the bread and wine; and Christ, who acts through the Mass, particularly through the priest, will offer it all, along with his own body and blood, as the sacrifice that takes away the sins of the world. Do you realize what that means? Our little, ordinary, seemingly meaningless trials and difficulties actually become part of saving the world!
That exchange is also what happens in receiving the Eucharist--we receive his Body and Blood. We give him our suffering and crosses; and he gives us life.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Some of the day's events...
Arrived at the office a little after 9 am, breakfast (coffee and two donuts) in hand. Big pile of mail awaiting me, some that I didn't finish opening on Friday. Also had emails to deal with.
Needed to call several folks on one parish finance committee; we had planned a meeting for this evening, at 5:30; however, too many couldn't make it, and the agenda was light, so the chairwoman recommended letting it go; we'll circulate a monthly report to all concerned via email. Involved several calls and some emails.
Plowed through the email inbox, responding to each in turn. Some phone calls came in, or I made some, based on what I found there. That's how a "few" emails can take a couple of hours to get through.
Checked in with everyone in the office about various items. The retired priest stopped by, we had a couple of things to discuss--another one I remembered only after he left.
He was returning the proposed Mass schedules for November and December--I write up the schedule, and send it around to the other priests for comments or changes. It includes: every weekday and weekend Mass; weddings; other special Masses; confessions for school children; nursing home Masses (four times each month, usually on Thursday--but in November, we had to move two of them around due to other events).
When I prepare this schedule, here are things I take into consideration--and which make it complicated: I attempt to "rotate" the three priests through all the Masses. I try to make sure I'm at both parishes each weekend--yet sometimes that doesn't happen, it didn't this past weekend. In consideration of the other priests' age and/or health, I don't have them take two Masses back-to-back; I attempt to line us up with special requests from families ("That will be our 50th Anniversary, can you be there, Father?") or with special observances taking part in Mass (blessing our catechists). It takes longer than you might imagine.
Exchanged some emails with a committee chairman about some parish business; had a phone call with another. That took time.
Advised the altar society about a new vestment they wanted to help provide for the parish, by sending along a picture we'd gotten from the fellow who designed it. It's due to arrive any day.
Spent some time looking at issues regarding the interior of St. Boniface--it needs painting, plus we raised money for new pews, and there are related concerns worth dealing with, all at one time. So I had some bids from two pew manufacturers to look at; also, I had a phone call with the artist who is preparing a concept for what the interior will look like. We have a meeting of that committee next week.
Was getting really hungry, so I went out for lunch around 4 pm, came right back. Sister, who has these crazy ideas about food and thinks french fries and hamburgers are bad for me! (She clearly has not taken to heart the wisdom of Woody Allen's "Sleeper"), looked in to see what I brought back. She was diplomatic as always. Thankfully, she doesn't know I ate the fries on the way back, she only saw the burger and the Diet Coke.
Cleared a few items off my desk, moved some others around. Don't laugh, you do it too!
I'll try to get a bit more work to do before a meeting tonight at 7 pm, then home I hope by 8:30 pm.
Needed to call several folks on one parish finance committee; we had planned a meeting for this evening, at 5:30; however, too many couldn't make it, and the agenda was light, so the chairwoman recommended letting it go; we'll circulate a monthly report to all concerned via email. Involved several calls and some emails.
Plowed through the email inbox, responding to each in turn. Some phone calls came in, or I made some, based on what I found there. That's how a "few" emails can take a couple of hours to get through.
Checked in with everyone in the office about various items. The retired priest stopped by, we had a couple of things to discuss--another one I remembered only after he left.
He was returning the proposed Mass schedules for November and December--I write up the schedule, and send it around to the other priests for comments or changes. It includes: every weekday and weekend Mass; weddings; other special Masses; confessions for school children; nursing home Masses (four times each month, usually on Thursday--but in November, we had to move two of them around due to other events).
When I prepare this schedule, here are things I take into consideration--and which make it complicated: I attempt to "rotate" the three priests through all the Masses. I try to make sure I'm at both parishes each weekend--yet sometimes that doesn't happen, it didn't this past weekend. In consideration of the other priests' age and/or health, I don't have them take two Masses back-to-back; I attempt to line us up with special requests from families ("That will be our 50th Anniversary, can you be there, Father?") or with special observances taking part in Mass (blessing our catechists). It takes longer than you might imagine.
Exchanged some emails with a committee chairman about some parish business; had a phone call with another. That took time.
Advised the altar society about a new vestment they wanted to help provide for the parish, by sending along a picture we'd gotten from the fellow who designed it. It's due to arrive any day.
Spent some time looking at issues regarding the interior of St. Boniface--it needs painting, plus we raised money for new pews, and there are related concerns worth dealing with, all at one time. So I had some bids from two pew manufacturers to look at; also, I had a phone call with the artist who is preparing a concept for what the interior will look like. We have a meeting of that committee next week.
Was getting really hungry, so I went out for lunch around 4 pm, came right back. Sister, who has these crazy ideas about food and thinks french fries and hamburgers are bad for me! (She clearly has not taken to heart the wisdom of Woody Allen's "Sleeper"), looked in to see what I brought back. She was diplomatic as always. Thankfully, she doesn't know I ate the fries on the way back, she only saw the burger and the Diet Coke.
Cleared a few items off my desk, moved some others around. Don't laugh, you do it too!
I'll try to get a bit more work to do before a meeting tonight at 7 pm, then home I hope by 8:30 pm.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Monday, October 05, 2009
My Sunday...
A glimpse into my Sunday...
The other priests had the early Masses (7 and 9), so I was able to sleep in; naturally, I woke up before 6:30 am! So I got up, went to get some coffee--oops, out of coffee and I meant to buy some, and forgot! So I jumped in the car and drove over to my friend Tim's place (Tim Horton's). They are thinking of opening a drive-through lane just for me, I hear.
OK, back home, prayed, read some news on the Internet...just before 10 am, I stopped in the cafeteria at St. Mary, because they were going to have coffee-and-donuts after 9 am Mass; but as I had 10:30 am at St. Boniface, my opportunity to catch folks was brief. I caught the end of the "breaking open the word" session--that's a group of folks who are preparing to enter the church at Easter, and it leaves Mass after the homily to reflect more on the Scriptures. I didn't see anyone else before I headed over to St. B.
After 10:30 am, it was back to St. Mary for Noon Mass. After that Mass, we had the anointing of the sick for those who wished; we do this every month, after either the 4 pm Mass or the Noon Mass.
Then, I ducked inside my house for a quick lunch--a couple of mettwursts cooked in the micro, and a diet 7-up. Then I met up with a group headed to Troy for the annual Life Chain. We prayed silently on the streets of Troy (the county seat) for an hour.
OK, back to the parish around 3:30. I watched some of the Bengals-Browns game, but had to go around 4, to stop by a parishioner's house to bless it. I couldn't find the paper, where I'd written down her name, address and number--and of course, I couldn't remember any of it! Meanwhile, the Bengals failed to end the game in regulation time, so it went to OT, and I'm thinking, end it before I have to go! After waiting as long as I dared, I had to run to the office, where I was pretty sure I had the info I needed.
Sure enough, it was in an email--so I called the parishioner, and headed over there. They rented the house out, and a prior tenant had just vacated, so they wanted me to bless it before they re-rented it. I apologized for being late, and for not being able to stay long, because next up was helping at St. Boniface bingo at 5 pm. We ask families with children in the school to work a certain number of hours at bingo, so I signed myself up for the same.
Well, I was kind of tired, and around 6:30 pm, I headed home. They had good help thankfully. I did stop in on the high school group for a few minutes. They were watching some movie, but I cannot tell you the name. Once home, I watched a movie I think--the third edition of the Pirates of the Carribbean series, which made absolutely no sense to me--but it was diverting.
Oh, and somewhere in there, I traded some phone calls with a funeral home about a funeral Wednesday, and with a parishioner who meets with the family to help plan.
That was a bit busier than the usual Sunday for me; but not moreso than for a lot of priests, as I have two priests who help.
The other priests had the early Masses (7 and 9), so I was able to sleep in; naturally, I woke up before 6:30 am! So I got up, went to get some coffee--oops, out of coffee and I meant to buy some, and forgot! So I jumped in the car and drove over to my friend Tim's place (Tim Horton's). They are thinking of opening a drive-through lane just for me, I hear.
OK, back home, prayed, read some news on the Internet...just before 10 am, I stopped in the cafeteria at St. Mary, because they were going to have coffee-and-donuts after 9 am Mass; but as I had 10:30 am at St. Boniface, my opportunity to catch folks was brief. I caught the end of the "breaking open the word" session--that's a group of folks who are preparing to enter the church at Easter, and it leaves Mass after the homily to reflect more on the Scriptures. I didn't see anyone else before I headed over to St. B.
After 10:30 am, it was back to St. Mary for Noon Mass. After that Mass, we had the anointing of the sick for those who wished; we do this every month, after either the 4 pm Mass or the Noon Mass.
Then, I ducked inside my house for a quick lunch--a couple of mettwursts cooked in the micro, and a diet 7-up. Then I met up with a group headed to Troy for the annual Life Chain. We prayed silently on the streets of Troy (the county seat) for an hour.
OK, back to the parish around 3:30. I watched some of the Bengals-Browns game, but had to go around 4, to stop by a parishioner's house to bless it. I couldn't find the paper, where I'd written down her name, address and number--and of course, I couldn't remember any of it! Meanwhile, the Bengals failed to end the game in regulation time, so it went to OT, and I'm thinking, end it before I have to go! After waiting as long as I dared, I had to run to the office, where I was pretty sure I had the info I needed.
Sure enough, it was in an email--so I called the parishioner, and headed over there. They rented the house out, and a prior tenant had just vacated, so they wanted me to bless it before they re-rented it. I apologized for being late, and for not being able to stay long, because next up was helping at St. Boniface bingo at 5 pm. We ask families with children in the school to work a certain number of hours at bingo, so I signed myself up for the same.
Well, I was kind of tired, and around 6:30 pm, I headed home. They had good help thankfully. I did stop in on the high school group for a few minutes. They were watching some movie, but I cannot tell you the name. Once home, I watched a movie I think--the third edition of the Pirates of the Carribbean series, which made absolutely no sense to me--but it was diverting.
Oh, and somewhere in there, I traded some phone calls with a funeral home about a funeral Wednesday, and with a parishioner who meets with the family to help plan.
That was a bit busier than the usual Sunday for me; but not moreso than for a lot of priests, as I have two priests who help.
Saturday, October 03, 2009
'The miracle of being human (Respect Life Sunday homily)
What our Lord just said in the Gospel is very demanding—
there’s no getting around it.
It explains why the Catholic Church teaches what she does
about marriage and getting married again.
It should be pointed out that when Jesus said that,
He was going against the grain from every direction.
As we heard—he was overriding what Moses taught;
As well as what the prevailing, Greek and Roman culture,
around him, taught.
So—when we feel like our Catholic Church’s teachings
are out there, all alone—
That’s the way it was at the beginning,
with a lot of what Jesus said and did.
But there’s something underlying this that bears attention.
The larger picture is the high calling God has placed on humanity.
Not just about how we live in our marriages—
but who we truly understand ourselves to be,
both in our destiny for eternity,
and also, right here and right now.
You see, it was this passage (or rather, the parallel passage in Matthew)
that Pope John Paul II was studying,
when he began to offer the world a new way
of looking at our importance, and our purpose, in being human.
This is what is often called his "theology of the body."
It’s not easy to sum up in a few minutes in a homily, but:
the big idea is this: that our humanity—
how we are made, our bodies, our emotions,
and the way live in relationship with one another,
especially in family, and above all,
the unique love between a man and a woman—
all this has an indispensable role in showing the world who God is.
That includes, showing us who God is;
and along the way, it shows us who we truly are.
Look at this way.
If you think you are a small, almost insignificant part
of a large corporation, or of an army, you may think,
"what I do isn’t very important;
and whether I do my best, or I slack off…
how can that matter to the whole effort?"
But what if you found out that you really aren’t just a small cog—
a third-string utility player who rides the bench all season—
but in fact, you are a key player,
the whole plan for success depends far more on you
than you ever realized?
We are caught between all the messages of our culture—
which are everywhere, and they permeate our thinking
and our decisions far more than we realize—
and one of those messages is, that our bodies,
and the way we use our bodies in expressing intimacy—
isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things.
It’s fun, it’s fulfilling—but really,
why should God care so much about "dos and donts"
when it comes to such things?
Why does God insist on marriage for life?
Why would God care about it being a man and a woman?
And why should God object to something like contraception?
The answer is that our human nature is a kind of sacrament:
Bringing God to the world;
And how we live our lives either tells the truth about God—
and ourselves—or it tells falsehoods—to ourselves and to others.
You and I are made in the image of God.
In the first reading, Adam—before he meets the woman—
meets all the other living things.
What happens is he begins to discover
what an awesome thing it is to be human.
And when he meets his partner—
he discovers the rest of himself.
The human image of God is made complete
in the union of a man and a woman.
If we continued reading that passage,
we discover her name—Eve—"the mother of all the living."
An essential part of being image of God is that we are life-givers.
So notice how, after Jesus teaches about marriage,
the passage talks about children.
The love of a man and a woman is designed by God
not to be a closed circle, but to break out of itself, into new life.
Realize that when a man and a woman come together that way,
and new life comes into existence, nearly out of nothing—
at that moment, human beings come closest
to being like God: as a pro-creator and a life-giver!
The implications are staggering.
This is why we emphasize waiting until marriage,
being faithful in marriage,
and being open to the gift of life each and every time
a couple comes together.
Because these seemingly ordinary aspects of human life
are, in their own way, as sacred and awesome
as what happens on this altar at every Mass.
You and I would be scandalized
to have the sacred mysteries of the altar with disrespect;
it’s exactly the same with the sacred mystery
of our own human existence,
particularly as it involves a spouse and family and new life.
So as much as we might prefer to keep quiet,
We keep speaking up on behalf of the weak and powerless,
especially the poor and the unborn children
who are targeted for destruction.
We refuse to be silent
about the use of early human life
as a commodity for scientific "research"—
because every human life is part of the sacred mystery,
and it is a sacrilege, a blasphemy,
to treat any human being as something to throw away.
We realize that part of the danger is that if we get used to it,
we adjust ourselves to a big lie about who we are in God’s eyes—
about how special it is to being human.
It would be as if Adam, in seeing those animals, merely thought,
"I am one of them."
Does this demand a lot of us? Indeed it does.
But the key question is not, is it too hard?
But: is it true?
If we really are that important to the divine plan,
then we cannot opt out; we cannot be bystanders
and our choices matter quite a bit.
And that’s why as Christians, we take sin seriously,
and we are so grateful, so overwhelmed, by what God did in Christ
to rescue us, and to give us his own power, the Holy Spirit,
to live up to, and achieve, the wondrous truth of being human!
This is why the Sacrifice of the Mass—
Jesus offering himself as one of us, for us—
to rescue us from the lie—is so awesome and overwhelming!
God is calling us and lifting us up
to something vastly beyond our wildest imagination.
It demands our everything—
like the challenges and joys of marriage and family;
and like the Cross demanded of Jesus—
But it’s where we discover who we are
and the miracle of being human.
(A liturgical note: I thought the fourth Eucharistic Prayer was especially appropriate for this Mass.)
there’s no getting around it.
It explains why the Catholic Church teaches what she does
about marriage and getting married again.
It should be pointed out that when Jesus said that,
He was going against the grain from every direction.
As we heard—he was overriding what Moses taught;
As well as what the prevailing, Greek and Roman culture,
around him, taught.
So—when we feel like our Catholic Church’s teachings
are out there, all alone—
That’s the way it was at the beginning,
with a lot of what Jesus said and did.
But there’s something underlying this that bears attention.
The larger picture is the high calling God has placed on humanity.
Not just about how we live in our marriages—
but who we truly understand ourselves to be,
both in our destiny for eternity,
and also, right here and right now.
You see, it was this passage (or rather, the parallel passage in Matthew)
that Pope John Paul II was studying,
when he began to offer the world a new way
of looking at our importance, and our purpose, in being human.
This is what is often called his "theology of the body."
It’s not easy to sum up in a few minutes in a homily, but:
the big idea is this: that our humanity—
how we are made, our bodies, our emotions,
and the way live in relationship with one another,
especially in family, and above all,
the unique love between a man and a woman—
all this has an indispensable role in showing the world who God is.
That includes, showing us who God is;
and along the way, it shows us who we truly are.
Look at this way.
If you think you are a small, almost insignificant part
of a large corporation, or of an army, you may think,
"what I do isn’t very important;
and whether I do my best, or I slack off…
how can that matter to the whole effort?"
But what if you found out that you really aren’t just a small cog—
a third-string utility player who rides the bench all season—
but in fact, you are a key player,
the whole plan for success depends far more on you
than you ever realized?
We are caught between all the messages of our culture—
which are everywhere, and they permeate our thinking
and our decisions far more than we realize—
and one of those messages is, that our bodies,
and the way we use our bodies in expressing intimacy—
isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things.
It’s fun, it’s fulfilling—but really,
why should God care so much about "dos and donts"
when it comes to such things?
Why does God insist on marriage for life?
Why would God care about it being a man and a woman?
And why should God object to something like contraception?
The answer is that our human nature is a kind of sacrament:
Bringing God to the world;
And how we live our lives either tells the truth about God—
and ourselves—or it tells falsehoods—to ourselves and to others.
You and I are made in the image of God.
In the first reading, Adam—before he meets the woman—
meets all the other living things.
What happens is he begins to discover
what an awesome thing it is to be human.
And when he meets his partner—
he discovers the rest of himself.
The human image of God is made complete
in the union of a man and a woman.
If we continued reading that passage,
we discover her name—Eve—"the mother of all the living."
An essential part of being image of God is that we are life-givers.
So notice how, after Jesus teaches about marriage,
the passage talks about children.
The love of a man and a woman is designed by God
not to be a closed circle, but to break out of itself, into new life.
Realize that when a man and a woman come together that way,
and new life comes into existence, nearly out of nothing—
at that moment, human beings come closest
to being like God: as a pro-creator and a life-giver!
The implications are staggering.
This is why we emphasize waiting until marriage,
being faithful in marriage,
and being open to the gift of life each and every time
a couple comes together.
Because these seemingly ordinary aspects of human life
are, in their own way, as sacred and awesome
as what happens on this altar at every Mass.
You and I would be scandalized
to have the sacred mysteries of the altar with disrespect;
it’s exactly the same with the sacred mystery
of our own human existence,
particularly as it involves a spouse and family and new life.
So as much as we might prefer to keep quiet,
We keep speaking up on behalf of the weak and powerless,
especially the poor and the unborn children
who are targeted for destruction.
We refuse to be silent
about the use of early human life
as a commodity for scientific "research"—
because every human life is part of the sacred mystery,
and it is a sacrilege, a blasphemy,
to treat any human being as something to throw away.
We realize that part of the danger is that if we get used to it,
we adjust ourselves to a big lie about who we are in God’s eyes—
about how special it is to being human.
It would be as if Adam, in seeing those animals, merely thought,
"I am one of them."
Does this demand a lot of us? Indeed it does.
But the key question is not, is it too hard?
But: is it true?
If we really are that important to the divine plan,
then we cannot opt out; we cannot be bystanders
and our choices matter quite a bit.
And that’s why as Christians, we take sin seriously,
and we are so grateful, so overwhelmed, by what God did in Christ
to rescue us, and to give us his own power, the Holy Spirit,
to live up to, and achieve, the wondrous truth of being human!
This is why the Sacrifice of the Mass—
Jesus offering himself as one of us, for us—
to rescue us from the lie—is so awesome and overwhelming!
God is calling us and lifting us up
to something vastly beyond our wildest imagination.
It demands our everything—
like the challenges and joys of marriage and family;
and like the Cross demanded of Jesus—
But it’s where we discover who we are
and the miracle of being human.
(A liturgical note: I thought the fourth Eucharistic Prayer was especially appropriate for this Mass.)
Monday, September 28, 2009
Letting go of money (Sunday homily)
(These are my notes, adjusted by my memory of how I delivered this homily three times this past weekend...)
Looking at that second reading, we might make a couple of points:
1) St. James is not indicting everyone who has wealth,
but those who misuse their wealth, and the power that goes with it.
2) Many of us who wouldn't call ourselves wealthy would--nonetheless--
by James' standards be considered wealthy, if we:
> own our own homes
> have savings and investments
> own nice stuff
...because James is contrasting those who have security in wealth with those who do not.
James' point is not that wealth is bad, but that it has perils.
Have you not found that when we have possessions, what we own possesses us?
When you own things, or have responsibilities for a business and so forth,
these things occupy our thoughts and cares.
I experienced this when I decided to enter the seminary.
Before I did so, I had a job with some responsibility; I owned a nice car,
on which I had payments to make; and I owned a home, with a mortgage.
When I entered the seminary, I gave up the job; sold the car and bought a cheaper one,
with nothing owed; and sold my house.
While I was sad to give up those things, it was very freeing--
especially not to owe anyone a penny.
Well, I've come full circle--while I don't own a lot,
I do have plenty of responsibilities for this parish and the other parish
and it occupies my thoughts and cares.
When we find that these things overwhelm us,
the only thing to do is a prayer of surrender--
of turning these things over to God--and that can be very hard to do.
Often, we can only do that when our backs are against the wall
and we finally admit we can't handle it all on our own.
For me, it comes late at night, when I am turning things over in my mind,
and I can't sleep, even though I need to; it's when I'm finally exhausted that I let go.
But that letting go--loosening our grip--is what we need to do.
Not giving up, but giving over--to God who is ultimately in control.
A funny thing happens sometimes--people who have wealth or responsibility,
sometimes just decide to give it up.
This is not just a feature of the religious life, it's one of its principal attractions,
the vow of poverty.
St. Anthony--not of Padua, who helps us find lost things,
but of Egypt, from a long time ago, was one of the first monks.
He inherited a lot of money, and like many of us, decided to give part of it to God.
But that wasn't enough for him; so he gave most of it to God,
keeping a little for himself. Ultimately, he gave it all away.
Those who enter the vowed, religious life, this is one of the great attractions:
making this radical gift to Christ.
It was the same with St. Francis of Assisi, who even gave over his clothing.
But what about the rest of us, the majority of us who won't make a vow of poverty?
This is why giving part away is important--this is the spiritual rationale for that.
Just like fasting or penance or other spiritual exercises,
giving a part of what we have away helps us not hold the grip too tightly.
Of course, if we have money to give away, that's wonderful,
and thank you for your generosity to the church;
but it is also giving talent and time away too.
And when we give these things away,
we realize another kind of wealth we have: Christ!
His mercy and his presence are a bank account that is never empty.
As we take part in this Mass, perhaps we realize we need to let go a little more;
but take this opportunity to seize--with both hands!--
the great wealth that is Christ! He is our true wealth--in this life, and for eternity!
Looking at that second reading, we might make a couple of points:
1) St. James is not indicting everyone who has wealth,
but those who misuse their wealth, and the power that goes with it.
2) Many of us who wouldn't call ourselves wealthy would--nonetheless--
by James' standards be considered wealthy, if we:
> own our own homes
> have savings and investments
> own nice stuff
...because James is contrasting those who have security in wealth with those who do not.
James' point is not that wealth is bad, but that it has perils.
Have you not found that when we have possessions, what we own possesses us?
When you own things, or have responsibilities for a business and so forth,
these things occupy our thoughts and cares.
I experienced this when I decided to enter the seminary.
Before I did so, I had a job with some responsibility; I owned a nice car,
on which I had payments to make; and I owned a home, with a mortgage.
When I entered the seminary, I gave up the job; sold the car and bought a cheaper one,
with nothing owed; and sold my house.
While I was sad to give up those things, it was very freeing--
especially not to owe anyone a penny.
Well, I've come full circle--while I don't own a lot,
I do have plenty of responsibilities for this parish and the other parish
and it occupies my thoughts and cares.
When we find that these things overwhelm us,
the only thing to do is a prayer of surrender--
of turning these things over to God--and that can be very hard to do.
Often, we can only do that when our backs are against the wall
and we finally admit we can't handle it all on our own.
For me, it comes late at night, when I am turning things over in my mind,
and I can't sleep, even though I need to; it's when I'm finally exhausted that I let go.
But that letting go--loosening our grip--is what we need to do.
Not giving up, but giving over--to God who is ultimately in control.
A funny thing happens sometimes--people who have wealth or responsibility,
sometimes just decide to give it up.
This is not just a feature of the religious life, it's one of its principal attractions,
the vow of poverty.
St. Anthony--not of Padua, who helps us find lost things,
but of Egypt, from a long time ago, was one of the first monks.
He inherited a lot of money, and like many of us, decided to give part of it to God.
But that wasn't enough for him; so he gave most of it to God,
keeping a little for himself. Ultimately, he gave it all away.
Those who enter the vowed, religious life, this is one of the great attractions:
making this radical gift to Christ.
It was the same with St. Francis of Assisi, who even gave over his clothing.
But what about the rest of us, the majority of us who won't make a vow of poverty?
This is why giving part away is important--this is the spiritual rationale for that.
Just like fasting or penance or other spiritual exercises,
giving a part of what we have away helps us not hold the grip too tightly.
Of course, if we have money to give away, that's wonderful,
and thank you for your generosity to the church;
but it is also giving talent and time away too.
And when we give these things away,
we realize another kind of wealth we have: Christ!
His mercy and his presence are a bank account that is never empty.
As we take part in this Mass, perhaps we realize we need to let go a little more;
but take this opportunity to seize--with both hands!--
the great wealth that is Christ! He is our true wealth--in this life, and for eternity!
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Who can be ordained?
There's been some discussion in the pages of the Cincinnati Enquirer about who can be ordained as bishop, priest or deacon by the Catholic Church. I wrote a letter which appeared online; I don't know if it appeared in print.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Events in the life of a priest
Another "day in the life" post, although it will be about events from this week...
Monday (or what a priest does on his day off):
We had a funeral for a man who died last week. I met with the family on Friday afternoon to plan the funeral. I often have a volunteer do this, but in this case, I didn't know the family at all, so this was a way to get better acquainted. We spent about an hour going over the Mass, explaining everything as needed. The family suggested I pick the readings; I suggested some and they liked them. We talked about options: incense is used toward the end; it could be used throughout. Would you like that? (Yes.) We can do some of the prayers in Latin, or would you prefer English? (English.) We can use purple, black, or white vestments--and I explained purple expresses prayerful waiting and hope (Advent & Lent); black expresses mourning and sorrow; and white represents resurrection. Preference? (Black.)
Monday morning, we had the funeral. Not a lot of folks besides the family and the American Legion. We did use incense throughout, and it was very nice. FYI, the way I did it was to load the censer with incense after we sprinkled the coffin with holy water and placed the pall--and then the incense led the procession to the altar. Then we did incense at all the usual places, including at the end which is most familiar. After this, I changed from my Mass vestments into a surplice (I was wearing my cassock) and a black stole, and we went to the cemetery for the burial. No one commented either way on the black vestments, but many did say they liked the Mass.
After the funeral, I came back to church, and was going to stop in on the St. Mary Altar Society lunch; however, I was needed for something in the office. By the time I got that taken care of, it was too late to go see the St. Mary Altar Society--sorry ladies! I wanted to tell them about the vestment I'd ordered for St. Mary, at their behest and with their pledge of funds. We are supposed to have it next month. I'll see if the maker can send me a pic when it's finished, to post here.
I didn't do much after that; I did head down to Dayton for awhile, ending up at Tumbleweeds for an early dinner (see prior post). That was my day off.
Yesterday, after Mass with the schoolchildren, and a quick trip to Tim Hortons for coffee and a breakfast sandwich, I had a staff meeting in the morning, then plenty of office work. I met with the chairman of St. Boniface Pastoral Council in the afternoon, to plan for Thursday evening's meeting. Then some more office work--phone calls, emails, mail to open, etc.
We had a meeting Tuesday evening of our new liturgy commissions for both parishes. When I arrived, one parish did not have a liturgy commission, and the other was falling apart. I had other fires to put out, so this sat on the sidelines. I received some feedback from one parish that parishioners would like to see one.
My response was to say, yes, let's create one for each parish; have them work jointly to some degree insofar as we have one pastor; and I said I believed the key thing must be that everyone will study, and work from, the Church's own understanding of the liturgy. I sought advice from several people on who to name, and it took some time to make phone calls to all involved, and we finally got together last night. We prayed the liturgy of the hours together, then discussed some routine housekeeping matters, and then looked at the beginning of Sacrosanctum Concilium, aka the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy from the Second Vatican Council. This weekend, I'll have a letter in the bulletins introducing these folks and explaining our purpose.
This morning, after Mass, I got together with our director of religious education and youth, because he had a project for me. "Have you ever seen 'MTV Cribs'?" I admitted I had. "We'd like to videotape you giving a tour of the church, explaining everything, sorta like that. I laughed...okay, but we need to do both churches. So that's what we did this morning--but we went to get some coffee and donuts while folks finished their rosary. If the video passes the censor (me), I'll post it here. That is, if it doesn't get accidentally erased.
I was at the Kiwanis lunch today, they signed me up for membership. I haven't found anyone who can tell me where the name comes from; but it's a good group, dedicated to volunteerism.
Then back here to work on some things, that seemed to take all afternoon, now I'm taking a break, and later we'll have our Bible Study--looking at Romans, about to chapter 5 I believe--then I'll hang out with some parishioners afterward.
Monday (or what a priest does on his day off):
We had a funeral for a man who died last week. I met with the family on Friday afternoon to plan the funeral. I often have a volunteer do this, but in this case, I didn't know the family at all, so this was a way to get better acquainted. We spent about an hour going over the Mass, explaining everything as needed. The family suggested I pick the readings; I suggested some and they liked them. We talked about options: incense is used toward the end; it could be used throughout. Would you like that? (Yes.) We can do some of the prayers in Latin, or would you prefer English? (English.) We can use purple, black, or white vestments--and I explained purple expresses prayerful waiting and hope (Advent & Lent); black expresses mourning and sorrow; and white represents resurrection. Preference? (Black.)
Monday morning, we had the funeral. Not a lot of folks besides the family and the American Legion. We did use incense throughout, and it was very nice. FYI, the way I did it was to load the censer with incense after we sprinkled the coffin with holy water and placed the pall--and then the incense led the procession to the altar. Then we did incense at all the usual places, including at the end which is most familiar. After this, I changed from my Mass vestments into a surplice (I was wearing my cassock) and a black stole, and we went to the cemetery for the burial. No one commented either way on the black vestments, but many did say they liked the Mass.
After the funeral, I came back to church, and was going to stop in on the St. Mary Altar Society lunch; however, I was needed for something in the office. By the time I got that taken care of, it was too late to go see the St. Mary Altar Society--sorry ladies! I wanted to tell them about the vestment I'd ordered for St. Mary, at their behest and with their pledge of funds. We are supposed to have it next month. I'll see if the maker can send me a pic when it's finished, to post here.
I didn't do much after that; I did head down to Dayton for awhile, ending up at Tumbleweeds for an early dinner (see prior post). That was my day off.
Yesterday, after Mass with the schoolchildren, and a quick trip to Tim Hortons for coffee and a breakfast sandwich, I had a staff meeting in the morning, then plenty of office work. I met with the chairman of St. Boniface Pastoral Council in the afternoon, to plan for Thursday evening's meeting. Then some more office work--phone calls, emails, mail to open, etc.
We had a meeting Tuesday evening of our new liturgy commissions for both parishes. When I arrived, one parish did not have a liturgy commission, and the other was falling apart. I had other fires to put out, so this sat on the sidelines. I received some feedback from one parish that parishioners would like to see one.
My response was to say, yes, let's create one for each parish; have them work jointly to some degree insofar as we have one pastor; and I said I believed the key thing must be that everyone will study, and work from, the Church's own understanding of the liturgy. I sought advice from several people on who to name, and it took some time to make phone calls to all involved, and we finally got together last night. We prayed the liturgy of the hours together, then discussed some routine housekeeping matters, and then looked at the beginning of Sacrosanctum Concilium, aka the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy from the Second Vatican Council. This weekend, I'll have a letter in the bulletins introducing these folks and explaining our purpose.
This morning, after Mass, I got together with our director of religious education and youth, because he had a project for me. "Have you ever seen 'MTV Cribs'?" I admitted I had. "We'd like to videotape you giving a tour of the church, explaining everything, sorta like that. I laughed...okay, but we need to do both churches. So that's what we did this morning--but we went to get some coffee and donuts while folks finished their rosary. If the video passes the censor (me), I'll post it here. That is, if it doesn't get accidentally erased.
I was at the Kiwanis lunch today, they signed me up for membership. I haven't found anyone who can tell me where the name comes from; but it's a good group, dedicated to volunteerism.
Then back here to work on some things, that seemed to take all afternoon, now I'm taking a break, and later we'll have our Bible Study--looking at Romans, about to chapter 5 I believe--then I'll hang out with some parishioners afterward.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Glenn Beck
I'm sitting at Tumbleweed, waiting for dinner.
Glenn Beck (remember Howard Beale from "Network"? If not, rent it) is on TV, with a chart with lots of names of people and organizations, all connected this way and that. The sound is turned down, so I cannot comment on what he's saying (Deo gratias); but Morton Blackwell, one of the wisest men in politics, warned me about folks who draw complicated charts explaining how "it's all interconnected"--meaning vast, spidery conspiracies. It's a snare and a delusion--which is what Glenn Beck is--he who hap'ed upon his moment of success skewering the Obama Administration because it's a target-rich environment and most of the big-game hunters are all not interested.
I hold Mr. Beck no personal animus, but--I'm cautioning you, he's going to be a major embarrassment, sooner or later.
Glenn Beck (remember Howard Beale from "Network"? If not, rent it) is on TV, with a chart with lots of names of people and organizations, all connected this way and that. The sound is turned down, so I cannot comment on what he's saying (Deo gratias); but Morton Blackwell, one of the wisest men in politics, warned me about folks who draw complicated charts explaining how "it's all interconnected"--meaning vast, spidery conspiracies. It's a snare and a delusion--which is what Glenn Beck is--he who hap'ed upon his moment of success skewering the Obama Administration because it's a target-rich environment and most of the big-game hunters are all not interested.
I hold Mr. Beck no personal animus, but--I'm cautioning you, he's going to be a major embarrassment, sooner or later.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Control or the Cross (Sunday homily)
My Sunday homily was not the same text as three years ago--but the same theme. But I had no notes; I just talked about how we (I!) behave behind the wheel as an example of a vain attempt to control things--leading to anger--in contrast to the release of control that brings peace. Another example I offered was the anxiety many feel about the political situation; which we influence, but we must ultimately yield to God's providence. In contrast to control, I offered the example of our Divine Savior on the Cross. And I invited everyone who had something they would like to let go of, to place it (figuratively) with the gifts of bread and wine, as they come to the altar, so they may be offered, with the bread and wine, to the Lord to be transformed--as we long to be transformed through union with the Eucharist--into Christ himself.
If you click on the headline, you can read my homily from three years ago. I didn't actually look at it beforehand, other than to borrow the theme; but I wouldn't be surprised if some of the same ideas resurfaced--I'm not that creative!
If you click on the headline, you can read my homily from three years ago. I didn't actually look at it beforehand, other than to borrow the theme; but I wouldn't be surprised if some of the same ideas resurfaced--I'm not that creative!
Monday, September 14, 2009
This time, 'District 9'
I have a thing for science fiction. I took in 'District 9' this afternoon. I was kind of bored with it at first, and thought about leaving (which I have done maybe 3 times). It had that jumpy quality that 'Blair Witch' and whatever that movie was where the aliens attack New York. I hate that stuff, it makes me want to throw up. But I moved back a few rows (in an otherwise empty theater); and after awhile, the movie became very interesting to me.
Warning: it is rather bloody and in some ways disturbing. But in many ways interesting and thought-provoking.
Meanwhile, let me digress back to the previews. Do you enjoy those? I try to arrive at the theater with enough time to see those. I noticed one preview for something called 'Legion,' in which God--this is what they said, I'm not interpreting this--was so angry at the world that he sent a bunch of angels to exterminate everyone. Another take on the creepy/dark supernatural/"we deserve to be punished" theme that shows up a lot. When does it open? January 22. What do you make of that?
While I was watching that...
...and it doesn't look like something I want to see, because among other things, I absolutely refuse to take part in a movie that depicts angels as villains or enemies of humanity. Sorry--absolutely wrong answer. Maybe it really won't be that way (it's amazing but true: movie makers will present a film, in the previews, in a way very much contrary to what the movie is really about), but that's my reaction based on their own preview.
...anyway, as I was watching that preview, I thought of something I've observed before--and now I'll share with you for your thoughts. Does it seem to you that a fair amount of films and literature is all about how we're gonna get it? We've got it coming and we're really going to be slammed? Put it another way: how often does a futuristic movie depict the future as something sunny and positive, or even something more or less like our world? In the former category, I'd put the whole 'Star Trek' series; they exude a great optimism about the future. In the latter, I'd put the Philip Dick movies, "Total Recall," "Minority Report" and whatever the movie was with Ben Affleck having his memory wiped. Not terrible futures, but not utopian, either.
Then we have the movies in which the future is bleak: Terminator; the new flick about the Mayan calendar, "2012" I think; and the animated movie out right now, called "9." Then there are the environmental apocalypse movies: "Waterworld" and "Day After Tomorrow" (which I think should be a double feature every Earth Day--but few would get the joke). And a lot more.
Is it just me, or does Hollywood have a widespread sense of foreboding? Here's an even more edgy idea: does this reveal something unconsciously at work in our culture? Someone said that if you really want to know what's at work in a culture, don't read it's non-fiction, but it's fiction; because there's something unconscious at work there. (Did Flannery O'Connor say that? I pick these quotes up like barnacles but never remember where I got them, sorry--maybe one of my readers knows?)
Anyway, that's what I thought about during the previews; then came the movie: "District 9.
What are your thoughts about any of this?
Warning: it is rather bloody and in some ways disturbing. But in many ways interesting and thought-provoking.
Meanwhile, let me digress back to the previews. Do you enjoy those? I try to arrive at the theater with enough time to see those. I noticed one preview for something called 'Legion,' in which God--this is what they said, I'm not interpreting this--was so angry at the world that he sent a bunch of angels to exterminate everyone. Another take on the creepy/dark supernatural/"we deserve to be punished" theme that shows up a lot. When does it open? January 22. What do you make of that?
While I was watching that...
...and it doesn't look like something I want to see, because among other things, I absolutely refuse to take part in a movie that depicts angels as villains or enemies of humanity. Sorry--absolutely wrong answer. Maybe it really won't be that way (it's amazing but true: movie makers will present a film, in the previews, in a way very much contrary to what the movie is really about), but that's my reaction based on their own preview.
...anyway, as I was watching that preview, I thought of something I've observed before--and now I'll share with you for your thoughts. Does it seem to you that a fair amount of films and literature is all about how we're gonna get it? We've got it coming and we're really going to be slammed? Put it another way: how often does a futuristic movie depict the future as something sunny and positive, or even something more or less like our world? In the former category, I'd put the whole 'Star Trek' series; they exude a great optimism about the future. In the latter, I'd put the Philip Dick movies, "Total Recall," "Minority Report" and whatever the movie was with Ben Affleck having his memory wiped. Not terrible futures, but not utopian, either.
Then we have the movies in which the future is bleak: Terminator; the new flick about the Mayan calendar, "2012" I think; and the animated movie out right now, called "9." Then there are the environmental apocalypse movies: "Waterworld" and "Day After Tomorrow" (which I think should be a double feature every Earth Day--but few would get the joke). And a lot more.
Is it just me, or does Hollywood have a widespread sense of foreboding? Here's an even more edgy idea: does this reveal something unconsciously at work in our culture? Someone said that if you really want to know what's at work in a culture, don't read it's non-fiction, but it's fiction; because there's something unconscious at work there. (Did Flannery O'Connor say that? I pick these quotes up like barnacles but never remember where I got them, sorry--maybe one of my readers knows?)
Anyway, that's what I thought about during the previews; then came the movie: "District 9.
What are your thoughts about any of this?
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