Why we Catholics do what we do with Holy Communion (Sunday homily)

 In the first reading, Wisdom says, come to a meal. 

For a lot of us, meals are eaten on the run, in the car, or at your desk. 

I’m guilty of that!  

Yet that’s not Wisdom’s meal. 

She is saying, set aside real time to focus on both the food and the company. 

Make the most of it. 

Just on the level of a meal, this can be a powerful experience, 

to give real attention both to preparing a meal with love 

and sharing it with others, 

where we focus not just on the food, but the company. 

And that is a prism for the whole of life.

Is the point of the Rosary to rush through as fast as possible? 

Or to be aware of your company: 

Being with Mary and the saints turning our gaze to Jesus, 

And being aware of our fellow pilgrims beside us in the pews?

Now let’s focus on Jesus’ words in the Gospel. 

He is True Wisdom, inviting you and me to the greatest of all meals. 

“The Bread I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”

These are shocking words, and if you’re not shocked, 

I must ask: were you listening? “The Bread I will give is my flesh…”

People were listening that day, and they were shocked. 

Notice Jesus didn’t back down, he doubled down. 

Over and over, he says, “eat my flesh” and “drink my blood.” 

So, this is not a mere symbol, not a metaphor. 

This, right here, sets us Catholics apart from many other Christians. 

I do not say that to be superior or insulting – 

and I am aware there are those with us who aren’t Catholic, 

who are, in their own way, sorting out their beliefs. 

But it is actually disrespectful to minimize or wave away real differences.

There’s more we could explore here, if there were time, 

but for now, let’s just acknowledge the reality.

If people ask us why we Catholics take this so seriously, 

we can do no better than to point to this Gospel passage. 

You and I are remaining faithful 

to how Catholics have heard these words since the very beginning. 

One of the first to call us “Catholic” was the bishop Ignatius, 

about 70 years after the Last Supper. 

He spoke about the Eucharist as we do, today.

And more examples could be cited.

And it’s all connected to questions like, is the Mass a true sacrifice? Yes. 

Does there continue to be a true priesthood? Yes. 

And do we believe it is important to maintain continuity with those before us? Again, yes.

Still, we can get a panicky, not knowing how to explain 

our Catholic practice of only Catholics – in a state of grace – 

receiving the Eucharist.

If asked, you might answer that we believe receiving the Eucharist 

is not just one familiar rituals. 

Anyone can receive ashes or bless themselves with holy water.

But for Catholics, the Eucharist is the supreme moment of focus on Jesus himself. 

Since Jesus tells us the Eucharist 

is his whole self, Body and Blood, given for us and to us, 

it is necessary that you and I come prepared to give our whole selves to him.

Remember Lady Wisdom inviting us: take time to give yourselves wholly.

So: there needs to be a holistic act of faith on our part,

giving ourselves wholly to the whole Body of Christ;

Not just what the priest or distributor is holding up,

But the whole mystical Body of Christ – that is, the Church.

This is what it means to become Catholic. 

When people become Catholic a little later in life, this is clearer: 

they take time to understand the implications, to prepare, 

and then in a solemn way, they commit themselves publicly. 

Then: their first Holy Communion.

For those of us who were baptized as babies, 

it was our parents who had to make a solemn commitment, 

which they did on the day of our baptism. 

Then, as we mature, we grow into our own solemn commitment. 

What I’m describing is the origin of Lent: 

either for those entering the church to fast and prepare and convert; 

or for the already baptized to fast and renew our conversion. 

Then comes Easter when some are baptized and the rest of us renew our baptism. 

And this is relived each Sunday at Mass. 

Notice we recite the Creed each Sunday: a solemn profession!

If no one ever told you that all this is serious, solemn stuff, 

then I’m telling you now. Don’t just toddle along. Ask yourself: do I believe this?

And for those around us who want to receive the Eucharist,

The right answer is, “Yes, we want that too! But let us help you prepare. 

This is worth a lot more than a moment’s reflection, don’t you think?

'What happens in St. Mary Church...' (Sunday homily)

 Today we have a feast day special for just this church. 

That’s why the readings are different today, 

and apologies to anyone who expected something different.

Today we recall when this church was consecrated by Archbishop Schnurr.

The bishops consider such an occasion so important 

that it can be celebrated on a nearby Sunday, so that’s what we do; 

it was actually August 14, 2016, 

when this structure changed from merely a building into the House of God.

And that right there is what we celebrate:

God dwelling among his people.

And that makes this church, and every church so consecrated, holy ground.

A bit of heaven on earth.

You may think I’m speaking figuratively or using a metaphor, 

but I am speaking very literally. I mean my words with full force.

You and I live in a secular age, in which increasingly, 

people speak of God as if he is just a figure of speech.

And if he actually exists, we really can’t say anything definite about God.

God becomes kind of an ink-blot test, remember those?

Someone shows you an ink-blot 

and you say, “Oh, I see a bird” or “I see a tree.”

The funny thing is, humanity was supposed to be so much better off 

when science and reason prevailed, 

and any claims about faith and the supernatural 

were segregated off to be purely personal.

But that doesn’t seem to be working out.

Like it or not, some part of us seems to be oriented toward mystery, 

toward the transcendent, toward – dare I say – the spiritual?

And so, if you look around, you may notice more and more people who,

in declaring themselves not to be interested in religion, 

End up embracing a world-view that is not more rational, but less, 

grounded not in science but subjectivity?

How else to explain those who insist emotional experience 

is more real than objective biological facts – 

which is what the “transgender” issue boils down to?

So, let me return to what I said a moment ago.

This church is a bit of heaven on earth. God is here with us.

This is no more than an extension of the words we recite in the Creed:

“For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven,

and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.”

This – God becoming what we are and becoming knowable by us – 

is the only remedy for our friends, neighbors, or any of us 

to avoid being lost in the abyss of our own subjectivity.

Of course, this feast day is not only about a sacred building.

It is about the consecrated people who are changed by what happens here.

That takes the matter to the next level:

This building’s holiness is demonstrated by our holiness.

People will believe God is here by what they see in you and me.

There’s a TV ad that says, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

That statement has many problems we can talk about another time, but: 

This cannot be true about this place. 

What happens in St. Mary’s church, if it’s real, 

cannot and will not stay in this church!

Through baptism, through confession, through prayer together, 

through the Holy Mass, through mourning and rejoicing together, 

The Holy Spirit is working to shape each of us into the likeness of Jesus.

What happens here pushes out from here:

In a readiness to forgive and seek peace amidst strife;

In a calm steadiness amidst the uncertainties of the world around us;

In an unrelenting generosity to those most in need.

As the hymn says, “They will know we are Christians by our love”;

And they’ll know God dwells here by meeting us.

'Food that endures' (Sunday homily)

 Last Sunday, the key idea was “signs” – 

that is, which point us toward Jesus Christ, who is the destination.

This Sunday, we hear the Lord Jesus say:

“Do not work for food that perishes

but for the food that endures for eternal life.”

So I wondered: how do these two types of food compare?

Let’s start with “food that perishes” – that is, natural, ordinary food.

This food you and I can grow or raise ourselves, or we buy. 

Although food is much easier to get than in Bible times,

It still costs real money and takes real work.

If we don’t eat it, we will die.

If we eat the wrong kind, we will get sick.

If you or I eat too much, we get fat.

But even if we eat the right food, in the right amount, 

You and I will still die, because this natural life cannot go on forever.

Such is the “food that perishes.”

Now, what about the enduring food Jesus offers us?

You and I cannot produce it; we cannot prepare it. It is simply given.

What does it cost? I was going to say it’s free, and that’s true.

Yet in another sense, no food is more costly,

because what we “pay” to receive Jesus is, simply, our whole selves. 

He gives himself entirely, and he demands the very same from us.

Our entire selves: let that sink in.

Many wonder why the Christian Faith is facing troubles in our time.

So many profess to be Christian, but don’t really live it. 

Many live compartmentalized lives: one part of me prays, 

one part of me believes, but another part of me cheats on my taxes,

or mistreats my spouse, or goes to dark places on the Internet, 

or depends on alcohol to make me happy,

or is envious or controlling, and so on and so on.

Meanwhile there are so many who simply ignore the claims of Christ.

They don’t think they are rejecting him; but he’s a figure on a cross, 

a picture on the wall, and maybe he gets a visit one or two times a year.

Why is this happening?

It is true that bad Christians – high or low – give scandal.

Nevertheless, the main reason people 

do not continue with their Christian Faith, or do not accept it,

is because Jesus simply asks too much.

We might be willing to give him a part of us; but he demands ALL.

And so, by the way, this is why when we commit a mortal sin, 

we must be reconciled – through confession – 

before receiving the Eucharist. 

Jesus is not content to have only part of us; he wants all!

So, yes, the “food that endures” is indeed costly.

What else about the food Jesus gives?

While natural food can only communicate natural life,

The food of Jesus provides supernatural life that never ends. 

But without Jesus, you and I will be eternally hungry and empty, 

and that is hell.

These are the two foods placed before us.

And Jesus says, you’re working hard for ordinary food; I understand.

Still, receive this Food; “work” for this Food I will give;

And the “work” we do for it, is to put our faith in Jesus; 

as I said, to give him our entire selves, nothing held back.

The bread and wine, used for Mass, is “food that perishes.”

It is ordinary.

In a few moments, before our eyes, 

through the unworthy hands of this sinful priest,   

Jesus himself will change these ephemeral, earth-bound elements, 

into that Food which he promised to give: 

His very self, his Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.

Now, do you see something else? 

This food, this perishable food, this is us!

You and I, like the bread and wine, 

do not have supernatural life in ourselves; 

and if God had not acted and entered time to share it, 

we would spend eternity without supernatural life!

What Jesus does to the bread and wine on the altar, 

He is determined to do to you and me!

This is what it means to receive the Eucharist;

As Saint Augustine said, we become what we receive.

I’m going to end with two questions.

Don’t answer too quickly. 

Look deep in your own heart, confront yourself, 

and tell yourself the answer. 

Think hard about whether you truly mean it. 

Do you believe this change – from bread and wine, 

into Jesus’ Body and Blood, his true and real Presence – 

actually happens on this altar?

And do you believe that what Jesus does to bread and wine, 

He can and he will – AND WILL! – do to you?

Jesus is the Food that Endures: Become what you receive!

What kind of sign? (Sunday homily)

 A few years ago, I made a trip to Germany;

I rented a car to get around. 

Even without speaking much German, 

I could figure out the speed limits and what exits to take. 

In other words, the signs did their job.

Today’s Scriptures talk about signs.

Elisha performs a sign, which points to what Jesus himself did later.

And in the second reading, 

Saint Paul tells the Ephesians, in effect, 

they are a sign by how they live their lives.

For the next five Sundays we will hear Jesus himself teach us

about the Eucharist, from Chapter six of the Gospel of John. 

That decision by the Church, to give so many Sundays to this, 

is also a sign: of how very important the Holy Eucharist is.

Now, speaking of highway signs.

The way they work is, they point you to the next major city, 

and then when you reach that, 

the signs refer to the next place, and so forth.

So, with I-75: when you get on, it’ll say, north to Toledo, 

or south to Cincinnati.

Not until you get beyond Cincinnati does it say “Lexington,” 

And so forth, all the way to Florida. 

That’s how God leads us through life. 

You and I move forward in stages,

and before you know it, we’re home.

When you and I talk about the sacraments,

They are more than merely signs.

A traffic sign doesn’t have any power in itself,

but the sacraments do: 

the power of God is at work through them.

And when we speak of the Most Holy Eucharist, 

Jesus’ Body and Blood, his true, full self,

What you and I are dealing with is now, 

not so much a waypoint, as our “destination.”

As you and I follow the path given us, 

responding to our hunger for Jesus, who is somewhat hidden,

stage by stage, we pass beyond the surface, beyond the ordinary;

and when we have that awareness that he’s real,

the Eucharist is Jesus himself! 

He draws us all the way to full union, and to heaven.

But now comes the challenge.

We’re not just given signs. You and I are signs.

We can either be good signs that point the right way,

or bad signs, that people disregard.

We’ve all had the conversation where someone

points to a bad priest or bishop,

Or a phony politician, or some other Catholic who is a bad witness,

And they say, “that’s why I won’t be a Catholic.”

There’s the bad sign!

What do we do? Give them another sign to look at.

A convincing sign. A sign that is bright with the Holy Spirit.

That sign is you.

See? This is what we’re talking about when we say,

our St. John Paul II family must become about evangelizing and welcoming.

This is it: you and I becoming that credible, attractive sign, 

pointing to Jesus.

Let me give you two ways to become that kind of sign.

The first way is to be a penitent. 

People aren’t drawn by who are boastful, 

who claim to have it all figured out. 

That’s not what you and I need to be.

Our family, friends and neighbors can identify with us 

when we admit our failings and demonstrate we are trying 

to become the best version of ourselves.

In short: go to confession! Make a habit of confession.

How powerful a sign it would it be if OLGH, SM and SH 

became crowded with people seeking confession and conversion?

How much will that help each of us 

to be convincing witnesses for Christ?

The second way you and I can be a powerful sign is by our reverence, 

at Holy Mass and specifically, in receiving Holy Communion.

Now, so many are doing that.

Your love for the Eucharist is a powerful sign to me!

That said, now is a good time to reflect and ask ourselves,

Does how each of us approaches Holy Mass, and the Eucharist,

Fully reflect what we believe.

So often people feel rushed; our mind is on the rest of the day.

We can treat what is special as too ordinary.

All of us, including me.

What can help is to pause, before Mass starts, and during Mass,

To remind yourself: I am in the presence of the God who made me,

And more than that, became human to die on the Cross for me.

God is giving himself to me.

And this is why it’s so important to have moments of actual silence – 

without talking or music – before and during Mass.

Also, remember that when we come to receive the Eucharist,

The bishops ask that everyone show some sign of reverence.

Some kneel. Others genuflect. 

Others bow or make the sign of the cross.

The idea is slow down and notice: my God, given to me!

Jesus forms us into his Body on Earth, the Church 

to be signs pointing to him.

You decide how powerful a sign you will be.

Planting seeds of faith with St. Henry (Sunday homily)

This weekend we celebrate the patron of this church, Saint Henry. 

Saint Henry’s feast day falls on July 13 each year; 

for a parish or church named for a saint, that day is a solemnity 

and the bishops allow the feast to be celebrated 

on the nearest Sunday – so that’s what we’re doing this weekend.

The point is that a parish should know its patron saint.

We were entrusted to his care; Saint Henry prays for us in heaven!

Before I go any further, let me share some news.

1) You might enjoy knowing that Joseph Allaire, 

one of our seminarians 

and a son of Our Lady of Good Hope parish, 

made a trip to Germany this summer, 

and visited the grave of St. Henry and his wife, St. Cunegunda. 

2) You can see some improvements on our campus, 

and I hope you like having some repaired curbs and fresh asphalt. 

3) Meanwhile, we are installing a new floor in the PAC 

and added some fresh paint. 

With a renewed Parish Activity Center, 

you and I can fill it with activity again, for all ages, 

from prayer and meetings to social activities and sports.

There are generous people who are helping make these improvements possible 

this summer and if you want to help, let me know. 

Now let me share a bit about Henry. 

He was born in AD 973 and died in 1024, a thousand years ago.

He was part of an important family. 

His father had been Duke of Bavaria.

But then his father fell into disfavor with the King, 

and dad was deposed from his office.

Later, the political winds changed again, and Henry and his family 

were back in their position of power and prestige.

One of the wise decisions his father made 

was to entrust Henry to be educated by the bishop Wolfgang, 

who was later recognized as a saint. 

Perhaps St. Wolfgang helped Henry learn from his family’s trials 

to focus on Christ’s kingdom, instead of his own, uncertain one?

Some people have great conversion moments; perhaps Henry did too.

Others are set on a path of prayer early on – this was Henry’s story. 

He was taught the importance of giving Jesus time every day.

Sometimes the most life-changing decisions are the simplest.

And we might notice that not many politicians become saints!

Why did Henry? Maybe because of the seeds of faith planted early.

This is what we do in our parish family in so many ways.

With Bishop Leibold School, with religious education and preparation for sacraments, 

with retreats and other activities for adults,

With our many opportunities to feed the hungry and help the troubled, All this plants seeds. 

If you did the math, Henry lived only 51 years on earth – 

fewer years than this parish has been here in South Dayton –

And yet the light of heaven that shined through his life 

reaches forward a thousand years to us and beyond.

Think about that whenever you say, what difference can I make?

So many kings valued their wives solely for giving them heirs.

He and his wife Saint Cunegunda did not conceive any children. 

Other kings would abandon their wives; Henry remained true.

Henry’s family complained to him that he was squandering his fortune; 

not on palaces and politics, but on the poor.

As king, Henry commanded armies and faced wars; 

but he was notable for seeking paths of peace and reconciliation.

Where did Henry learn these things? 

Was it when he got together with other kings and dukes?

Or was it when he attended Mass, 

or in the habit of prayer that he learned as a youth?

Perhaps as he and his beloved wife contemplated 

how to make a difference for eternity?

Again, it’s all about what you and I make a priority.

We always find time for what matters most. 

As St. Henry Parish comes together with Our Lady of Good Hope 

and St. Mary, as we work together, as we build together,

you and I can be just like Henry, as we:

- Share our gifts with our community, not hesitantly, but confidently;

- Make our churches and all our facilities welcoming, 

which is some of what you’re seeing happen this summer;

- Don’t be discouraged as we plant seeds of faith; 

they will sprout, even if takes a thousand years!

Ho-humming Jesus (Sunday homily)

So, this is a pretty striking reaction to Jesus.

He is healing people, casting out demons, 

and teaching people about God, offering forgiveness and offering hope.

“And they took offense at him.”

We know this kid, they said; he grew up here. 

We know his family. Who does he think he is? 

Ho-hum, they said.

Their hardness of heart “prevented” Jesus from performing miracles; 

not because he was literally incapable of doing so – 

he is God, he can do what he likes – 

but rather, because there was no point.

The point of his healings and his teaching are the same: 

to open people up to the supernatural life God offers them.

But they were closed off; his miracles would do them no good.

It is shocking to think of people reacting this way.

But let me ask you: if you could have just 5 or ten minutes with Jesus, 

in which he would do for you what he offered those people,

Would you rearrange your schedule to meet with him?

I think a lot of us are saying, of course I would!

So then I ask you: what do you think happens in the confessional?

I know: a lot of people get discouraged because they go to confession, and they don’t get better.

But maybe the sacrament is keeping you from getting worse – 

did you ever consider that?

Saint Therese the Little Flower made a point on this somewhere:

That the reason we don’t quickly overcome our sins 

is because that would lead us to massive spiritual pride, 

which can send us to hell just as easily.

So it is God’s mercy that we spend our lives wrestling with sin, 

rather than one confession and done.

It really is this simple: what do you think happens in confession?

Do you believe Jesus is there, with all his power and his mercy?

Do you believe that? 

For that matter, do you believe the Holy Mass is a miracle?

Because that is what it is.

Actually, two miracles; two miracles happen in every Mass; 

and we all witness them.

The first miracle is that God brings us to Calvary, 

to the Sacrifice that Jesus offered on the Cross.

The Mass is the Cross; the Mass brings us to the Cross.

When you and I are at Mass, we are right there with Jesus.

The second miracle is the change of bread and wine 

into the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity – 

the true, real Presence of Jesus our Lord.

And, now that I think about it, there are three miracles.

The third one is that you and I, 

in receiving the Eucharist in a state of grace – 

meaning, we are not conscious of a mortal sin 

that we have not yet brought to confession…

I say again, when we receive the Eucharist in a state of grace,

we are united with Jesus. We have union with God.

When I say it aloud, it is astounding; it’s shattering.

I can’t help wondering, 

how in the world do we ho-hum these wonders? 

How does it happen? And yet, we do.

I don’t mean you; I mean me.

I stand at this altar, day by day. 

I give out God’s mercy in the confessional, and I’m glad to do it; 

but I confess to you, I am not overwhelmed enough. 

Not nearly enough.

It wasn’t just the hometown neighbors of Jesus who ho-hummed him; 

And by their “yeah, so what?” attitude, closed the door to miracles.

No; it wasn’t just them.

I don’t want to be those people. Do you? Do you?

“Jesus, I dare to ask: break down the barriers, break my heart open!

Please keep me, please keep these your flock, 

from being numbered among those 

about whom you are ‘amazed at their lack of faith.’

Please, Lord, in your mercy, may these words not be said of us. Amen.”

A homily about pornography (without using the word)

 This homily is going to focus on something delicate and not pleasant.

But I’ll use careful wording for the sake of younger ears.

There’s a chronic problem faced by a lot of people around us – 

but very few are ever going to talk about it openly.

And it isn’t just grown-ups; 

it includes a shocking number of our kids, starting in their early teens.

I’m talking about the dark corners of the Internet; 

mainly ugly images and videos, but also, increasingly, online gambling. 

For a lot of people, this isn’t just an occasional thing; it is an addiction.

If this isn’t you, it can be really hard to understand.

How can someone wreck his or her life over alcohol 

or gambling or over dark stuff on the Internet?

What you must understand 

is that this isn’t merely a question of will power.

It isn’t about not praying enough, or some easy trick. It goes deeper.

Partly it’s brain chemistry. 

Something makes me feel good, and for some of us, 

we want it too much.

There’s also an issue of connection – intimacy –

which is a hidden crisis in our times.

If you or I do not have the healthy kind of human connections, 

we are prone to seek out the wrong kind. 

False kinds. Empty connections.

Which means, if we are hooked on the wrong kind,

a big part of the remedy involves seeking more of the healthy kind.

When a lot of us were children, 

we had one phone the whole house shared.

When you talked on the phone, you did in the hall or living room.

And all you could do with your phone was talk.

Most people had one TV, with 3, 4 or wow! Five channels!

So, TV was much more a thing you did with others.

Today, everyone has his or her own telephone;

You can watch TV on it. Alone. You do lots of things. Alone.

A few years ago, 

I talked about the good practice of a “thank you” phone call.

It turns out, some teenagers found calling grandma terrifying.

They knew how to text, not talk.

See how disconnected we have become?

No wonder more of us seek connection in fake and twisted ways online.

Now let’s talk about what happened in the Gospel.

A man comes to Jesus; his daughter is very ill.

What does Jesus say? I will come to her. 

Along the way.

A woman in the crowd reaches out and touches Jesus.

And then, surprisingly, Jesus decides to call her out.

Why not just let her go on her way: she was healed after all.

If you were her, would you want the spotlight to be put on you?

It’s kind of harsh. Why would he do that?

There was something more that woman needed 

than just to have her bleeding problem stopped.

This condition had been humiliating, 

and for 12 years, it separated her from others.

Perhaps this woman felt shame, ugly, unwanted and unloved.

She didn’t just need the medical issue fixed; 

She needed even more for her connection with others to be restored.

To be loved and to know it. That’s the healing the woman needed.

Jesus wasn’t embarrassing her; he was pulling her from the shadows.

Then she told Jesus the whole truth.

One of the most healing things you and I can do, 

when we have something we feel shame about, is to tell someone.

Being alone with that shame gives it so much power.

Remember: what we need is to connect in a healthy, real way.

Jesus wanted that woman to know she wasn’t just a stranger; 

she was family. He called her “daughter.” 

That’s the connection. You are a beloved child of God. And so am I.

Dealing with these habits online: I don’t have all the answers, 

but if you want to talk, and get it out,

we priests are here to listen and not repeat things.

We have a group called “Catholics in Recovery” 

as a place for anyone facing addictive behaviors to start healing.

And no matter what separates you, 

what you think makes you totally outside and unworthy,

is just not big enough that God won’t say to you, 

you are beloved son, you are my beloved daughter.

God created this world to be a place of life.

He made you and me to be “imperishable.”

And he came into the world – becoming one of us –

To raise us back to life.

You are the one to whom Christ is speaking in the Gospel.

You are the child, he says, “is not dead but asleep.”

And to you, his most loved child, he says, “Arise!”

What do Job and the Apostles both discover? (Sunday homily)

Image from: Just a Catholic Blog

Since the Book of Job rarely gets read on Sunday,

This is a chance to fill in some details behind today’s reading.

At the beginning, Job has a good life, 

and he offers prayers and sacrifices to keep it that way.

What do you think? Do you and I ever operate that way?

“I’ve got a good life, so I’ll go to church and God will keep blessing me.”

The risk – for Job and for us – is this:

what happens when Job, or we, lose our good life?

When our health fails or everything goes south, like Job we ask: 

what did I do wrong? Why did this happen to me?

And here we come to something many don’t notice about Job:

He says to God, I want you to come here and tell me what I did wrong.

And God does come and speak to Job!

God agrees, Job did not commit any sin. 

Now we arrive at today’s reading, where God reveals his glory,

And after this, Job falls silent; he no longer has any complaint, 

even though he is still weighed down with pain and grief. 

Why does Job fall silent? What has changed for him?

Job has reached a new relationship with God:

He doesn’t worship from a distance, God is right there.

It isn’t about the good things of life. 

Now Job realizes, knowing God is the treasure.

So, now we jump ahead to Paul’s letter and to the Gospel.

Both Paul, speaking to the Corinthians, 

and the Apostles, speaking to each other,

are grappling with the same question: Who is this Jesus?

And the answer is, he’s the exact same treasure Job discovered.

I almost said what maybe you are thinking right now:

We can’t imagine what it is like to realize, as the Apostles did, 

that the Lord your God is sitting with you in your fishing boat.

But that’s not true! You and I do know what that is like!

Every time you and I come into this church, 

or drive by a Catholic church, we know: Jesus is right here.

So I can walk over here to the tabernacle, 

and I suppose this is about how close he was 

to the Apostles in that storm.

And while the Eucharist is the fullest reality of God present to us, there is more! 

All seven sacraments serve to make God present to us, as in that boat.

And each one of us, by virtue of our baptism, 

our confirmation, and of our maintaining communion with Jesus 

by prayer and seeking holiness, we too make God present to others.

Not the unique full, real presence of the Eucharist, 

but still, something real and powerful in our world.

Saint Paul tells the Corinthians: don’t miss the reality of what we have!

And today, I’m repeating that to you.

And let me say this to our young men:

When I talk to you about being a priest, you may wonder, 

why would I even think about that? Here’s the answer:

Everyone can share Jesus with the world.

Everyone can be as close to Jesus as the Apostles in the boat.

But someone has to take up the unique mission 

of offering the sacrifice of the Mass, 

Of lending your voice to speak absolution, 

freeing us from sins in the sacrament of confession, 

And letting Jesus use your hands to anoint and comfort us in sickness.

Jesus invited the Apostles to that special surrender and he invites you. 

When many of our fellow Christians gather on the Lord’s Day, 

the preacher will give an altar call, 

challenging everyone to wake up to God’s invitation, not later; now! 

That’s kind of what God is doing for Job and again, for the Apostles.

And, let’s face it, we often need the storm to focus their minds.

If you have no storms in your life, thank God!

But that might tempt you to think the invitation isn’t just as urgent.

Meet the One who commands the storms and supplies all we need.

Jesus himself is the treasure.

What to do with terrible sermons

Here are some thoughts that came to me today as I considered the various observations about homilies (or sermons, the terminology isn't all that important):

1. Most bishops, deacons and priests seriously try to offer homilies that are for your benefit.

2. Preparing a homily message, and delivering it, are two distinct challenges that come easier to some; and it isn't merely a matter of training.

3. Many priests and perhaps bishops, face a particular challenge in finding time to do even minimal work in that preparation. Some priests who give homilies without much preparation may be lazy, but I suspect many more find all their time taken up with other things.

4. Preparing a homily that addresses delicate or controversial topics is especially challenging, because it involves, metaphorically, navigating a minefield. Many or most weeks, time or other circumstances may lead a homilist to say, I just can't manage that this week. Rinse and repeat, week after week.

5. Many priests have been encouraged by feedback to be funny, to be entertaining, to be light, as opposed to be substantive and controversial. This comes both from positive and negative feedback.

6. Recognize these last two aspects, combined with the force of habit, for the peril they create: we preachers can get comfortable with, and rationalize, not giving you all that much in our homilies.

7. It may be desirable that the homilist be funny or lively or eloquent or dramatic or animated and profound, and to manage to avoid giving offense, and to avoid any rhetorical sharp elbows or awkward expression; and to do all that in 3 minutes or 90 seconds or with a single sentence. 

But sometimes the job that needs to be done, and the worker doing the job, can't work out that way. Indeed, what you get may, in your judgment, be too...whatever. It might even be what some treat as the worst possible thing: "boring."

8. Before you complain (and I'm not saying you can never complain, but I will ask how you justify complaining to everyone else, but never bothering to address your comments to the one who offered the homily), maybe consider the prior points and perhaps ask: what do I think the homilist hoped to do for any of us, for me in particular, with his message? 

In short, apply charity. Do you actually think the homilist's purpose was to harm you? Even in offending, perhaps deliberately, was it to *harm* -- or to save? 

9. Somewhere along the way, before you say or do anything at all, you might ask: "How can I help?"

10. And along the way, ask: how much merit does my grievance really have? 

Actually misrepresenting the Faith, or the facts, in a serious way, is seriously bad, as is a serious and deliberate lack of charity toward anyone. My guess is, most of the complaints people offer don't rise to this level. No, the usual complaints are, "too long," "too boring" or "not that again!" 

If you really cannot find anything else of merit in the homily (and I've listened to homilies that were a struggle for me to find much treasure!) there remains this: your suffering, such as it is, can be purgatory for you and how precious is that!

What do you think of these quick observations?

God doesn't care... (Sunday homily)

God doesn’t care about big and little.

Being the biggest kid at school or the strongest country in the world.

This doesn’t impress him.

And saying, “I’m too old,” or “I’m too young,” or “I don’t know enough,” 

aren’t excuses that cut any ice with God.

This business of saying that human life doesn’t matter 

when it’s too early or too small: 

Well, we humans who determine value by money or power or size, 

find it easy to devalue early human life. But what does God say?

God doesn’t care about big or little.

An awful lot of change has happened in this world — 

both for bad and for good – 

through people who didn’t listen when others said, “who are you?”

Marx - who are you?

Saint Paul – who are you?

Martin Luther King - who are you?

Mother Theresa – who are you?

God doesn’t care about little or big…except when it comes to virtue.

No matter what age you are, or how limited your abilities, 

you can be rich in courage and justice, chastity and generosity.

Consider Father Maximilian Kolbe. He was a Polish priest, 

his country conquered in six weeks in World War II, 

and he was thrown into the notorious death camp Auschwitz.

Every day he saw proof that he and everyone else imprisoned

were nothing to their captors;

and he had to know he would die,

and that he was powerless to prevent it.

Father Maximilian had serious health problems even beforehand.

He was a brilliant scholar, but what did that count for now?

How insignificant, how nothing, he might have felt!

Yet he planted a tiny seed of generosity: 

he stepped forward to take the place of another prisoner 

marked for death.

That man – Franciszek Gajowniczek – 

survived Auschwitz, and was in St. Peter’s Square in Rome 

when Pope John Paul II declared Maximilian Kolbe a saint!

But understand – and right here is the practical takeaway 

for each of us – that the courage and ability to deny oneself 

that Maximilian had in that hour didn’t just show up.

It began when he was a boy learning the habit of virtue: 

of choosing prayer, kindness, chastity and generosity.

And while on this subject: a lot of people don’t get 

why chastity or self-denial matter all that much. 

Here’s the answer: the capacity to say no to what my body says 

is super-duper urgent, right now, is directly proportional 

to being able to say YES to putting others first.

I never witnessed my father making any heroic sacrifices 

like St. Maximilian – at least, I didn’t think so; 

until, as a man, I reflected on how my dad 

almost never seemed to be sick. But of course he was!

What he did, however, was still get out of bed and go to work.

Chastity and temperance form that virtue of self-gift in us.

No matter who you are, how small or young you are, 

or if you think, I’m too old, it’s too late for me:

While you have breath, 

it is not too late to become greater in virtue,

Which is the only thing that really matters 

both in this life and in eternity. 

Today is not too late to say to Jesus:

Please plant that seed of courage, of faith, in me;

As small as I am, I will give all I can to make it grow, 

even if all I have is just today.

Doubling back to South Dakota

In my account of my recent travels, I realize I never talked about visiting either the Crazy Horse Memorial, or Mount Rushmore. And what happened was that I didn't have any pictures worth sharing. The few I took didn't turn out well.

So, doubling back...

My first stop, midday Tuesday, was the Crazy Horse Memorial. This is amazing. I don't have time to tell the whole story, but you can look it up. Some details I will highlight:

- The organizers want to create a city there, made up of a university and a museum as well as the memorial. All three exist in embryonic form, but not finished.

- They said they won't take federal dollars because they don't trust the feds to honor the plan.

- The statue being carved out of the mountain will take a very long time to complete. It began in the 40s, and only the head and the upper part of Crazy Horse's arm is complete. I didn't see an estimate of how long it will take, but perhaps not even 100 years will be enough. The sculptor -- whose grandchildren are working on it now! -- laughed in the film that is shown, saying, so what? Time is relative!

- There's a lot more to see in the museum, and there were young ladies giving presentations in Native American dance and music; I left my hat in my car and so couldn't sit too long in the sun, and I wanted to move on to Mount Rushmore. In any case, I actually spent more time at Crazy Horse than with the four presidents.

Onto Mt. Rushmore...

It's striking how the planners arranged it; you don't really see the famous images until you have parked and ascended the stairs and entered through a grand passageway; then, there they are!

I didn't even bother taking photos of the mountain! You can find better images online. When I arrived, I was still a little sun-weary so I sat in a shady spot, both to contemplate the mountain, and to watch the people. It was like a little UN; there were bikers wearing Harley-Davidson gear whose native language seemed to be German! I couldn't help laughing as a dad patiently tried to get his kids to cooperate with a photograph.

There are displays on the story behind the famous sculptures, but I was already familiar with it, and at any rate, I was worn out. What I didn't know, but learned at the prior stop, was that the sculptor who gave his life to dynamiting Crazy Horse out of a mountain, worked first for the scultor at nearby Mt. Rushmore. 

Also something to keep in mind, if you visit: there is an ampitheater at the foot of the mountain, and at night (every night?) there is a lighting ceremony; if I'd done my homework, I might have planned to be there for that. But I arrived around 3 pm, and didn't want to hang around for six hours, nor did I want to return. But I bet that would be cool to see.

OK, that's a wrap!

Wrapping up the adventure

This morning I'll drive home. I'm outside Madison, Wisconsin, dreading driving anywhere near Chicago, because the traffic is always terrible; but alternative routes don't look promising.

Last night I visited with a friend from my days in Washington, it was great catching up with her.

Here are some remaining photos and narrative. Below is the Chalet Motel in Custer, South Dakota. A blast from the past. I carefully checked the reviews before booking, because it could have been a nightmare; in fact, it was very nice. My room opened into a tiny, shaded courtyard, so I enjoyed having a cold drink after arriving, before heading out for dinner.

Custer has buffalo statues all over town, variously decorated:

My next stop was Wall Drug. Honestly, I could care less; however, I figured people would ask, and be shocked if I said I didn't stop. So I stopped, looked around for five minutes, and drove on. The ubiquitous signs along the highway promise free ice water and five cent coffee, and free donuts for honeymooners. 

Also along I-90 is a Minuteman Missile National Historic Site! So I headed there next. When I arrived, all I found was a lavatory facility and a parking lot, with a few cars, and some explanatory signs. Nothing else. Upon reading the signs, I discovered the facility is actually three sites, spread over several miles. About eight miles to the west was the actual missile silo, which is really what I wanted to see. Several miles ahead was the "visitor's center." Where I arrived was the former command center; that is, where the military personnel remained on duty, all the time, just in case the order ever came. Here's that command center, across the road from the toilets:

There was no way I was driving back west for the silo, so I pressed on across South Dakota. If there are any Dakotans reading, please explain why there were all these little black bugs everywhere. I am sure I brought a lot of their carcasses back on the front grill of my car, along with cicadas and assorted other fauna from 12 states. The front of my car is insect armageddon; it got so bad before a rainstorm the other day that it attract flies! I thought about taking a picture; however I am too lazy to figure out how to blur out my license plate.

My stop for the night was Sioux Falls. Here is an arch over the river:

And I discovered an Italian restaurant just steps from the hotel, the R Wine Bar. I am extremely skeptical and picky about Italian restaurants; very, very few are anything like authentic. This place blew me away. I ordered a Caprese Salad, some beef and mushroom ragu on polenta, and a creme brulee for dessert. Now, I'm not saying it was all exactly like in Italy, but it was the best I've had in an Italian restaurant since visiting Italy; of course, a second or third try might have disillusioned me. Anyway, here is the Caprese (and no, it didn't come this way; I started to eat it before I decided to take a picture):

Yesterday morning, I scudded across the southern edge of Minnesota and into Wisconsin, the landscape becoming extremely familiar, a process that began once I crossed the mighty Missouri; on the eastern bank of the even mightier Mississippi, geographically, I'm home. Last night, my friend and I met a restaurant that was fairly well hidden on the water side of an apartment building. In a few minutes, I'll set out for gasoline and home.

Day 10: Across the Plains

This morning I'm in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and my next stop is outside Madison, Wisconsin, where I'll be able to visit with a friend from my political days who I haven't seen in several years. And I have good wifi, and I have some time, so I'll try to catch things up.

Let's post some pictures, starting with Grand Teton National Park:

If you go, be aware there are two routes that go roughly north-south, one on the east side of the Snake River, which gave me the view above, and then another drive on the west side. I drove down the east side of the river to Jackson Hole -- which was very prosperous, very touristy and very crowded -- and then found my way up the other side of the river, which gave even more spectacular views. Also, if you are so inclined, you can hike in these mountains.

It was about this spot, as I recall, I stopped to pray Midmorning Prayer, which included this from Psalm 121: "I lift up my eyes to the mountains, from where shall come my help? My help shall come from the Lord, who made heaven and earth."

While in the Grand Teton area, I espied a sign for "Chapel of the Transfiguration" but didn't turn off. When I saw this chapel -- on the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart! -- I took that as a divine nudge.

I spent about six hours driving around this park, and then drove north to Yellowstone. I passed through and then went eastward toward my lodging for the next two days. Friday night, I found this place for dinner, just a few miles down the road:

As you can read, this place claims to be Buffalo Bill Cody's "original hunting lodge," which I do not dispute. The barroom below, where I ate, isn't actually in the original building, which is nearby and not public. If you look closely, you'll see lots of animal heads on the walls, and a chandelier which the bartender claims includes buffalo skin and you can see also includes intricate metal work. He and another patron (who I'll describe more presently) asserted various high values to the chandelier.

Here was my first course, a Martini and Rocky Mountain oysters. I'd never had them. Delicious!

It was fun sitting here, listening to and observing the other guests. The bartender was from Alabama -- I guessed because who else would have an Alabama scrimmage game on TV? The gentlemen with the white hair turned out to be a resident at Pahaska (Cody's Indian name), and he explained, in a roundabout way, that he dresses up as Cody and if I wanted to see that, come back the next day around 8:30 am. I was tempted, but I wanted to get to the park.

This was hung in the corner, I'm guessing also made from buffalo hide. 

I apologize in advance for my pictures -- not enough and not very good. However, you can find excellent photographs of Yellowstone online, and for me, it takes a great deal of trouble to shoot and then edit the pictures. I confess: I'm too lazy. 

Here is Old Faithful geyser, seen from a covered porch nearby. To my right is a very fine lodge, where I snagged a sandwich to go.

There are a number of spots where you can view hot springs, bubbling and steaming. They are slightly ominous reminders that this whole park sits on the mouth of a temporarily dormant volcano.

I met a ranger here who has worked at the park for over 50 years -- he was in his 80s! -- and he described the Dragon's Mouth spring as one that changes constantly, sometimes erupting more forcefully, and the rock ceiling periodically drops large chunks of rock.

And, lest there be any confusion: that bubbling, steaming stuff is terribly hot and terribly poisonous. When visiting the West Thumb geysers, I overheard a mom say, "OK, that's enough about farts."

Here are the falls at the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone. There were several places to stop to view this canyon.

Here are photos of Mammoth Springs, which was my last stop before heading north. This is a mountain of travertine, formed over many years by water pouring forth and causing the limestone buildup. Follow the link above for details. I thought I had more striking photos, sorry! Feel free to mention in your Yelp Review.

Before I wrap up Yellowstone, I will add this observation. At various points, the landscape here made me think of The Lord of the Rings. The poisonous landscape above? Mordor. But lots of other sights were more like the Elven realms and the Misty Mountains. I can't say I discovered Hobbiton.

When I got to Livingston, Montana, I went into town for dinner. As the sun skimmed the horizon, I caught this sight. It reminded me of the alternate history section of "It's A Wonderful Life."

The restaurant I visited, called the Mint, had this vending machine near the men's room. This was a reminder of my childhood! My father's business -- which supported our family -- involved delivering lots of candy and, yes, cigarettes, to golf clubs and swim clubs, and also maintaining lots of vending machines at various locations, including the Cincinnati Post building downtown, and all around the University of Cincinnati. He had a lot of machines exactly like this:

This broken down wagon was outside my hotel in Gillette, Wyoming. 

Here are pictures from Little Bighorn (oops, this may get me banned from Facebook again!). This is the Native American monument, with a cut-out oriented toward the nearby memorial to Custer and his men, on the spot where they made their last stand.

At various points around the battlefield, markers indicate where individual warriors -- either from the Indian Nations or the U.S. forces -- fell. The U.S. markers are in the usual limestone white; these are red as you can see. 

Here is Custer National Cemetery. Although I didn't verify it, this includes far more than those who died at the battle. There is a smaller cemetery on the hill that was the last redoubt of Custer and his men; and there is a section marked where the soldiers horses fell; the men killed them in order to create some measure of defensive ramparts, to no avail.

I'm afraid I don't recall just where this was, but it was on the road from Little Bighorn to Custer, where I stayed after visiting the Crazy Horse Monument and Mount Rushmore.

This is a sod house, re-built by some of the students from the town:

The jail, which made me think of the old Cincinnati Workhouse, where my mother warned me, I'd end up if I didn't change my ways.

I've got to hit the road for Wisconsin, I'll try to catch things up further soon.

Day 9: Turning East

I'm sorry this will be another brief post as, well, I am on vacation!

A quick re-cap:

Friday I was at Grand Teton National Park for most of the day, then passed through Yellowstone National Park from the south entrance to the east entrance. Saturday I was back at Yellowstone, not as long as I wanted, which I'll explain below; and then, Sunday I spent most of the day in the park, before heading north to Livingston, Montana (and state 46).

A few observations about these national parks:

- If you ever wonder if they are over-hyped, the answer is no. The sights and experiences were everything you would hope.

- Don't worry about accessibility. You can drive to lots of things worth seeing.

- Don't worry about not being able to get into the wild; there are ample places for hiking and camping.

- Do plan ahead, both in researching all that there is to see, and plan your stops; and book well in advance, if you want to stay in Yellowstone, which -- while costly -- would have been worth it. I booked a very nice mountainside, creekside lodge (that's the name: Creek Side Lodge), advertised as 10 miles from Yellowstone's east entrance. True, but that omits how far that entrance is from the heart of the park. I had a two-hour, twisty mountain drive each way to get into the center of the park, not to mention the driving around the massive "loop." Stunning sights all along the drive, but I'd rather have been closer.

- Don't be the driver if you are either nervous or impatient behind the wheel. You know who you are! Let someone else drive.

- When you see wildlife, just keep moving, calmly. Stopping to coo at the "adorable" critters strikes me as a very poor decision. We Ohioans know how much havoc a mere deer can do to a car; the longhorn sheep, elk and bison are notably, or else significantly more massive than deer, so what do you think happens when that cute animal decides your Honda Accord looks like a threat? I say, keep moving along. If you want to gaze at animals, get your car off the road. The park posts signs everywhere giving further advice on this subject, namely, don't feed them and don't get too close.

I am not at all sorry I devoted so much time to these two parks, and when I get a better time, I'll post what pictures I took, but don't get too expectant: I'm not that good at it and I figure other people have published far better shots of these spectacular places. 

So what rearranged my Saturday? Discovering that Mass wasn't offered when and where I thought. Again, this is on me for not being more diligent. I had thought there was both a Sunday morning Mass in the park, and a Sunday evening option on the way north; but upon further checking, on Saturday morning, those weren't going to take place this past weekend. So, after some reworking, I decided Saturday afternoon Mass in "nearby" Cody (3 hours east from the center of the park!) was the best option. I was glad to visit Cody, but sorry I didn't plan for it. There was a museum for Buffalo Bill, and also a collection of old-looking buildings supposedly marking the original settlement; but it was closed by the time Mass ended.

In my defense, Google Maps, which is usually extremely helpful, was anything but when dealing with driving through Yellowstone. I think what messes up the app is the fact that many roads in the park are closed in winter, and subject to closure beyond that. So, when I was planning my trip and trying to calculate routes, Google would not let me plan to drive through the park; it almost always routed me around. Of course, I could have done it the old-fashioned way, using the road atlas in my car! (Another suggestion: always keep one of these, because the Internet isn't everywhere.) In retrospect, it would have worked to have departed Yellowstone through Cody and then up to Montana. 

Cody, by the way, boasts a German restaurant, and I was very sorely tempted. However, I had a 50-minute drive back to my lodging, and I don't think carry-out schnitzel would be so good after that drive. Nor did I think it prudent to drive back along those twisty mountain roads after schnitzel, and of course some beer, as dusk fell and the bears were on the road (I was told dusk and dawn are the best times to see them). For the same reason, I didn't stay for the 8 pm rodeo in town, although that looked like great fun. Better would have been to have stayed in Cody for a night. Next time!

My drive to Montana on Sunday afternoon, and then eastward toward Gillette, Wyoming, where I stayed last night, was mostly accompanied by the Yellowstone River, which finally bent toward the north as I steered south. Along the way I passed through the Crow Reservation, and visited the Little Bighorn Battlefield. (FYI, on this trip I played the "senior card" for the first time, as I qualified, at 62, for the $20 one-year pass for all national parks.) This, too, was well worth the visit.

Here's a fact that doesn't often get mentioned, however, regarding this tragic battle. The U.S. forces were not, strictly speaking, the agressors. They were caught between several Indian tribes that had, contrary to treaty, departed their reservation in Wyoming and South Dakota -- with good provocation, to be fair -- but in doing so, they trespassed on Crow territory. So the Crow invoked their treaty with the U.S., demanding protection. Of course, there's a lot more to it, there always is; but that's my point: usually the story is, Native Americans, good, U.S. bad. History is complicated because it involves people, who are complicated.

It's time to hit the road. Today's agenda is the Crazy Horse memorial, then Mount Rushmore. If time allows, I hope a longer post later.

Deep in the Wyoming Wild

Sorry for no post since Friday morning, but I was busy all day Friday at Grand Teton National Park, until about 3 when I headed north for Yellowstone. When I arrived at the lodge just east of Yellowstone, it was late, and to boot, the Internet was pretty bad. It's barely better now, so I probably will keep this short. Enjoyed drinks and dinner at a restaurant where Buffalo Bill Cody had his own hunting lodge, and supposedly entertained the Prince of Monaco 110 years ago. Several interesting people and details from that evening! This morning I headed back to Yellowstone, which is a two-hour drive from here; next time I will book earlier and be willing to pay more to be closer. Originally I planned to attend Mass in the park, but then discovered that didn't begin for another week; so I left early and drove into Cody -- a 2-1/2 hour drive east -- for Mass this evening. Picked up some BBQ in Cody (named after guess who?) and headed back to the lodge on a creek that is roaring as I speak, from the snow rapidly melting in the mountains. Tomorrow I'll return to Yellowstone again and see what I missed so far, before heading north to Montana, state number 46.

God willing, I'll have reliable Internet there and will catch up and post photos.