Archive for the ‘Chrisitian Virtues’ Category

No Regrets — Tuesday, 2nd Week of Ordinary Time—Year I

January 21, 2011

When I was a kid, my Uncle Tom said to me, “I remember when I was young like you, when I felt invincible and thought that I’d live forever.” It struck me, because I have never felt that way. In fact, the idea that I would someday have to look back on my whole life was a consideration throughout my youth.

When I was about the age of most of you, I began to read the Gospels on my own and started to seriously consider Jesus’ teachings. What He said challenged me. Jesus said, “Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap. For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.” I had always felt like whatever I gave away only made me that much more vulnerable to harm. But I thought to myself, “Do I want to have to look back from my deathbed and have to wonder how my life would have been blessed if I had been more generous?”

Jesus said, ‘Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear.  If our heavenly Father feeds the birds and clothes the grass in flowers, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith? Are not you more important than they?’ Jesus was telling me not to worry when there seemed so much to worried about. But I thought to myself, “Do I want to have to look back at the end of an anxiety-filled life and wonder if I could have live in peace the whole time?”

When Jesus encountered the apostles and called them to follow Him, it seemed like He might be calling me, too, to serve Him as a priest. Though I had always respected our priests, priesthood had never been a personal dream of mine. But I knew that if I never went to seminary to seriously discern it, even if I went on to live an otherwise o.k. life, I would still wonder if I had missed out on God’s plan for me.

I wanted to live a regret-free life, so I tested whether God’s blesses a giver, I tried out what life was like when I trusted God to handle things, and I followed where I thought He was calling me. I’m glad I did.

There are two different views of religion reflected by the Pharisees and Jesus. For the Pharisees, religion is about keeping rules.  They say, “Look, why are [your disciples] doing what is unlawful on the sabbath?” Jesus answers, “The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath.” For Jesus, religion is about freedom and fulfillment. So it is with Sundays, our Sabbath, the Lord’s Day.

When I was in college I wanted to try taking Jesus at His word by keeping the third commandment, so I resolved to make every Sunday a true day of rest. That meant no studying or homework, no matter what I had due on Monday. Now I had some pretty late Saturday nights, but I was faithful to my commitment. The funny thing I discovered was that when I gave my Sundays to God, He gave them back to me. Before, Sunday had been just another day; but after, I had a vacation day every week; to sleep, to have meals and fun with friends, to go to Mass and to pray.

Do you want to live a regret-free life, and not have to look back someday and wonder what your life would have been life if you had trusted Jesus more? Then take Jesus at His word, and put His words into practice.

Multiplying Our Gifts — Tuesday After Epiphany

January 5, 2011

When the crowd gets hungry, Jesus takes the five loaves and two fish that his disciples offer to Him and uses these to feed everybody. Now if Jesus had wanted to, He could have used just one loaf and one fish. Or, He could have transformed a single piece of bread into more loaves, more fish, or whatever He chose. In fact, Jesus could have forgone the bread and fish business entirely and created a meal from absolutely nothing (ex nihilo) if He had wished. Yet, Jesus takes everything that the disciples offer to Him, blesses it, and uses it to a greater effect than any of them could imagine. Let us remember this when we consider offering our gifts to God.

Seen and Unseen — December 28 — St. John the Evangelist

December 27, 2010

Today’s Gospel says that when John the Apostle went into the tomb on Easter morning “he saw and believed.” What did he see that led him to believe? Was it how the burial cloth which had wrapped Jesus’ body wasn’t taken away or tossed in a mess on the floor,  but left behind (perhaps deflated) in its place? Or was the cloth which had covered the Lord’s head rolled up in a familiar way, such that John recognized Jesus’ hand behind it. Or perhaps, if the Shroud of Turin is truly the burial shroud of Christ, John believed through beholding its testimony to the resurrection.

On the other hand, maybe it wasn’t something John saw that led him to believe, but something he didn’t see. Perhaps it was from the fact that Jesus wasn’t there that he infered the truth. “Dead bodies don’t just disappear for no reason at all. I didn’t do this. None of us did this. And what motive would our enemies have to take Him? This is the work of God.”

Just as John may have inferred the resurrection of Jesus from the empty tomb, so we can infer the truth of God from the presence of the universe: “Things don’t just appear for no reason at all. I didn’t make this. None of us made this. And how could an enemy have to create beauty, life, and love? This is the work of God.”

Tradition says that after Jesus entrusted the care of His mother into the care of John the Apostle, they went to live in what is modern-day Turkey.  What if we had gone to visit them in their home at Ephesus and asked them how someone can believe in the God of the universe, or the Lord Jesus Christ, when their reality can sometimes seem so distant.

I can imagine Mary or John replying, “Beloved, the One who was from the beginning, whom we have heard, whom we have seen with our eyes, whom we looked upon and touched with our hands, the Word of God, the Word of Life, the Lord Jesus Christ——we have seen Him, and testify to Him, and proclaim to you His eternal life.” The Christian faith is firmly founded, upon the unseen things we can infer and the things which we  have seen.

A Teenage Examination of Conscience

December 16, 2010

Jesus said, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment.”

Since my last confession…

  • Have I neglected daily prayer?
  • Have I stubbornly doubted God’s existence, goodness, or love?
  • Have I denied Jesus Christ or my Catholic Faith?
  • Have I dabbled in occult things, like spiritualism or magic?
  • Have I frivolously said, “I swear to God”?
  • Have I used holy names as if they were profanities?
  • Have I failed to keep Fridays as a day of penance?
  • Have I failed to keep Sundays as a day of rest?
  • Have I skipped Sunday Mass?
  • Have I been irreverent or inattentive at church or towards Jesus in the Eucharist?
  • Have I neglected to confess serious sins?
  • Have I favored my own comfort and entertainments over God’s will?
  • Have I refused to trust that God will take care of me?

God said, “Honor your father and mother that it may go well with you and that you may have a long life on earth.”

  • Have I disobeyed my parents?
  • Have I disrespected them to their faces or behind their backs?
  • Have I lied to them?
  • Have I manipulated them to get what I want?
  • Have I seldom shown them love or gratitude?
  • Have I neglected my duties at home?
  • Have I failed to put forth my best effort at school?
  • Have I lied to, disobeyed, or disrespected a teacher?
  • Have I cheated on tests, plagiarized papers, or copied answers?

Jesus said, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

  • Have I quarreled with anyone?
  • Have I bullied, insulted, or mocked anyone?
  • Have I intentionally harmed anyone?
  • Have I wished for bad things to happen to anyone?
  • Have I embraced hated for anyone?
  • Have I had an abortion or encouraged anyone to get one?
  • Have I told gossip or unflattering stories about anyone?
  • Have I told any lies?
  • Have I betrayed any friends?
  • Have I broken any promises?
  • Have I wrongly revealed any secrets?
  • Have I been a poor friend?
  • Have I coveted, been envious or greedy of anyone’s possessions?
  • Have I stolen or vandalized what belongs to another?
  • Have I simply stood by while another did wrong?
  • Have I dressed, spoken, or behaved immodestly?
  • Have I been unchaste with anyone?
  • Have I been selfish or insincere in a relationship with anyone?
  • Have I manipulated anyone to get something I wanted?
  • Have I been impatient, jealous, unkind, or unmerciful toward anyone?

St. Paul wrote, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit… and that you are not your own?  For you have been purchased at a price. Therefore, glorify God in your body.”

  • Have I gotten intoxicated using alcohol or other drugs?
  • Have I used illegal-performance enhancing drugs?
  • Have I malnourished myself or ‘binged and purged’?
  • Have I intentionally harmed my own body?
  • Have I plotted or attempted suicide?
  • Have I lusted using movies, TV, the internet, romance novels, magazines, or music?
  • Have I engaged in unchaste acts of imagination or with myself?
  • Have I used media or entertainments in obsessive, self-isolating ways?

An Act of Contrition

Oh My God, I am sorry for my sins. In choosing to sin and failing to do good, I have sinned against you and your church. I firmly intend, with the help of your grace, to sin no more and to love as I ought.  Amen.

The New Eve — December 8 — Immaculate Conception

December 8, 2010

In the beginning, when our first parents fell, they lost a great deal, but they were not deprived of hope, for God spoke in their hearing a prophesy to the deceiving serpent, the devil. God said, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel.” Who is this offspring, who strikes back at the devil? He is Jesus the Christ, the New Adam, the Son of God. And who is this woman, who is Satan’s enemy? She is Mary of Nazareth, the New Eve, the Immaculate Conception.

After their Fall, when Adam and Eve heard God approaching in the garden, they became afraid, they fled and hid, so God called out, “Where are you?” When God drew near to Mary, she also was afraid, but she did not hide or flee. She declared, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” And, because she did, her Holy Offspring could go on to say in His garden of testing, “Father… not my will but yours be done.”

The first man, Adam, called the first woman Eve, because she became the mother of all the living. Now, Mary is the New and Second Eve, for she is the mother of all the living, and she loves each one of us personally as her very own children.

She is the icon of the Church, and as she is, we are called to be: holy and without blemish before God, as the second reading from Ephesians says. But how can we do this? Unlike Mary, at times we have been allies of Satan by our sins. To cleanse us, God gives us the sacrament of reconciliation, and to strengthen us He gives us the fruit from the new tree of life; that tree is the cross, and its fruit is the Eucharistic Christ.

If it has been a long time since you have been to confession, come that you may be purified as pure as Mary. And if you receive our Lord in the Eucharist tonight, consider that the Son of God Incarnate has come to dwell in you, just as truly as He dwelt in Mary.

Let Advent Be Advent — 2nd Sunday of Advent—Year A

December 5, 2010

John the Baptist was living quite differently compared to people in his day. What he wore was different, what he ate was different, and what came from his lips was also different. Yet, John shared something in common with us today. Like Christians in this season of Advent, John knew that the Christ, or Messiah, had already been born, years before in the past. Like us, what John was preparing for was the coming of Christ anew.

That’s the reason why in Advent, in this season of awaiting the Messiah’s arrival, John the Baptist is so prominently featured in our Sunday Gospel readings, like today’s. By looking at John we can learn how to prepare ourselves for Christ’s arrival. As I mentioned before, John was rather different from his neighbors in his day. Today I suggest that we in the Church need to be a bit more different from everybody else if we want to prepare better for Christ’s coming this year.

What did John do with all that time alone in the desert, when he wasn’t out preaching or baptizing? Surely, John was praying, asking for grace and contemplating the one who was coming. The desert is a quiet place, free of distractions, and conducive to prayer. The world can make this month before Christmas a very stressful time. This Advent, you must find a desert, a quiet place, free from distractions, where you can pray each day. Create a daily desert space for your own family as well and prayer together as one. You cannot prepare well for Christ’s coming without daily prayer and the peace it gives.

What did John eat in the desert? He ate locusts, or grasshoppers, and wild honey. The wild honey may sound pretty sweet, until you realize that it was guarded by wild bees. John ate simply. Our meals in Advent should be simple too. You know how it is at Easter, when you enjoy what you gave up for Lent again for the first time? You find yourself enjoying what you denied yourself more than ever before. Then just think of how much greater your Christmas feasting will be if you eat more simply in Advent. (Besides, if you fast or diet now, there will less pounds to lose next year.)

John dressed differently than other people in his day. He wore a garment made of camel’s hair and tied a leather belt around his waist. He dressed like the Old Testament prophet Elijah because he wanted people to know that these were special days. You can also dress in ways that witness to the world that these are special days. One way to do this is to dress liturgically. As you can see, the main color of Advent is purple. If you have purple outfits or ties, now is their season.

By the way, this Wednesday, December 8th, is a holy day of obligation and Christ is asking you to attend the worldwide feast in honor of His immaculately conceived mother. On such a day, intentionally wearing blue or white would honor her. Try dressing liturgically and you’ll find that it reminds you and others of what makes these days special.

What came from the lips of John was different, and despite the large crowds, whatever he spoke was not for himself but for Christ. This year, wish people “merry Christmas” instead of “seasons greetings,” and instead of “happy holidays,” say “happy holy days,” for by this you give witness to the true reason for the season.

John knew that he must decrease and that Christ must increase, for John himself was not the light but had come to give testimony to the light. In the world, the Christmas songs have already begun on the radio and the Christmas trees are all up and lit in the malls, but the day after Christmas their songs will stop and their decorations will be taken down. But as the world is packing Christ away for another year, the Church is just beginning its celebration. You know the “twelve days of Christmas?” On Christmas day, the twelve day begin, not end. Like Easter, the Church celebrates not just one day, but for weeks after.

This year, let Advent be Advent, and save Christmas for Christmas. Sing Advent songs for Advent, and (as much as possible) save Christmas carols for their time. I suggest leaving your Christmas lights, on your tree and on your house, unlit during Advent. Then, when you plug-in at last on Christmas Eve, you shall enjoy a joyful sign that the light of the world has come.

St. John the Baptist calls to you through the Scriptures. I encourage you here, before you. And I hope the Holy Spirit is now prompting you, in your hearts and minds, to keep Advent as Advent this year, and to prayerfully prepare for the coming of Christ at Christmas more profoundly than you ever have before.

7 Superpowers — Tuesday, 1st Week of Advent

November 30, 2010

Back when I was in seminary, we would sometimes joke around with a game we called Superpower/Super-weakness. One of us would imagine a superpower for himself, and then we would try to come up with a super-weakness, or vulnerability, to go with it.

So let’s say that you’re able to fly; then, your super-weakness is that you can only fly to Iowa. Imagine you have the ability to change anything into food; however, that food is always celery and you don’t have any teeth. Or perhaps you can talk with animals, but they only want to talk to you about lawnmowers, trees, and how things smell.

Today, I have a challenge for you. I am going to describe to you seven superpowers, seven more-than-human abilities, though none of these will have built-in drawbacks. Your challenge is to choose which superpower you want for yourself. Here we go:

The first is the power to always recognize what is truly important. With this power, you always keep the big picture in mind. With this power, trifles never distract you and you always spend your time and money well. Let’s call this, Wisdom.

Or, would you rather have the ability to power to penetrate deeply into any topic and grasp it thoroughly. With this power, you could become an expert in any chosen field. If you were to study the dynamics of the stock market, or the weather, or even your female classmates, you would soon understand them thoroughly. Let’s call this power, Understanding.

Or, would you prefer the power to sense the best course of action to take in the middle of any situation? With this power, you would always get reliable hunches in uncertain moments. Let’s call this power, Counsel. (Possessing superhuman intuition would be useful, but even if you always knew the best choice to make, you wouldn’t necessarily always have the strength or courage to follow it through.)

Would you rather have the power to be free from all unreasonable fears and to be able to ignore any sufferings? With this ability, you are be perfectly brave and an overwhelming force. Let’s call this power, Fortitude.

Or, would you want the ability to detect when someone is speaking truth or a falsehood? With this power, you are more than a human lie-detector, you are able to see through subtle and false arguments which other people accept as true. Let’s call this power, Knowledge.

Or, would you prefer to have the innate ability that you would always intensely desire to do what you know to be right? People often know the right thing to do but they still don’t do it. With this power, you are irresistibly drawn to do what’s good. Let’s call this power, Piety.

Or, lastly, would you rather have total protection from ever doing anything stupid? With this ability, you are spared from making the mistakes and errors which are committed by many other people. Let’s call this power, Holy Fear.

So, how many here would choose Wisdom; the ability to always recognize what is truly important and to keep first things first in life?

Who here would choose Understanding; to penetrate deeply into great mysteries?

How many would choose Counsel; an uncanny intuition for choosing the best course of action?

How many here would choose Fortitude; the power to be freed from fears and endure all sufferings?

Who would choose Knowledge; the ability to recognize truth or falsehood whenever you hear it?

How many would choose Piety; the ability to intensely desire to do whatever you know to be right?

And how many would choose Holy Fear, or the Fear of the Lord, to be protected from doing foolish things?

These seven superpowers, these seven more-than-human abilities, are the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. Their names come from today’s first reading, Isaiah 11:1-10. The good news for us is that God freely gives these gifts to the childlike who ask Him for them, and He does not limit us to just one. At this Mass, pray for all seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, but especially for the power which you desire the most.

Willing, Yet Unwilling — 1st Sunday of Advent—Year A

November 28, 2010

This morning, I’m going to tell you the true story of a friend of mine, a person whom I respect, who was once addicted to sensual sins. As he tells the story, when he was 32 years old, he found himself in an intense spiritual struggle; my friend found himself willing, and yet unwilling, to change his life for Christ.

When he would turn and honestly look at himself, at the things he was doing and the way he was living, what he saw was ugly, sordid, and ulcerous. He desired life with Christ. He knew that holiness should mean more to him than all bodily pleasures, but he could not seem to detach himself from his sins. He hesitated to die to death and to live to life. Old enticements tugged at him and softly whispered: “Are you going to part with us?” Doubts kept nagging him, “Do you really think you can live without these pleasures, forever?”

But together with these temptations, other thoughts beckoned to him. He could envision a smiling multitude of saintly men and women of every age, who had lived both chastely and happily. A voice seemed to say to him, ‘You can also do what these men and women did, but none of them did it by themselves. The Lord their God gave it to them. Why do you try to stand by your own strength, only to fall over and over again? Cast yourself on Christ; don’t be afraid. He will not flinch and you will not fall. Cast yourself on him without fear, for he will accept and heal you.’

My friend was both willing and unwilling, attracted to both and repulsed by both. There were times when he would even pray, Lord, give me chastity, but not yet.” One day, these struggles came to a head for him, as he happened to be sitting in a garden outside of his house. Like Adam and Jesus in their gardens, he had come to a crucial moment of agonizing decision. With tears, he cried, ‘Why do I keep delaying to until tomorrow? Why not now? Why not end my uncleanness this very hour?’ Yet he could not find the strength to do it.

As he was saying these things, he heard the voice of child coming from the house next door, chanting over and again, “Pick it up and read it; pick it up and read it.” Thinking this a rather strange thing for a child to say at play, he took it a divine command to open his Bible and to read the first thing his eyes should fall upon. I took his Bible, opened it, and read these words in silence, words from today’s second reading: “Let us conduct ourselves properly as in the day, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in promiscuity and licentiousness, not in rivalry and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh.”

That moment changed my friend’s life for as instantly as he finished reading those words he says that his heart was infused with something like the light of full certainty and all the gloom of doubt vanished away. By this God-given grace, his life began to change, and he went on to become a saint. Actually, you know my friend too, because he’s a friend of yours as well. We call him Saint Augustine of Hippo, and he tells us his own story in Western history’s first autobiography, The Confessions by St. Augustine. [see Book 8, Chapter 11]

All of us here are recovering sinners, and we all struggle with personal addictions to sins large or small. Maybe we find ourselves committing and confessing the same sins over and over again. Maybe we are tempted to doubt that we can really change our lives for Christ. If we try to exert ever-greater efforts of personal will power, and find ourselves failing and falling again, perhaps a new approach is needed.

Instead of making promises and firmly resolving, that this time, somehow, I will amend my life and sin no more, try praying in this way: “Lord Jesus, I want to sin no more, but I have proven again and again, to myself and to You, that I can’t do it. I can’t do it, but You can. Please, give me the gift of your grace. Show me your power working in me. Jesus, live your life through me. I can’t do it, but You can.” Humble yourself and accept the gift of grace. Rely on Christ, for apart from Him we can do nothing. Pray everyday and confess your poverty, and Christ will provide what you need. If we neglect to pray or to humble ourselves, we are showing the pride of a branch that thinks it can produce fruit without the vine. If we do that, we should know that our next fall is near.

This season of Advent is for us to prepare for the Christmas coming of Christ. This year, He is asking us for only one thing; the gift of ourselves. Let us ask for the gift of His grace, so that we may present ourselves to Him, holy, pure, and whole.

[A similiar homily about St. Augustine’s mother, St. Monica.]

The Sound of Heaven — Monday, 34th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

November 22, 2010

What do you think Heaven sounds like? In the first reading, St. John describes it for us. “I heard a sound from Heaven like the sound of rushing water or a loud peal of thunder. The sound I heard was like that of harpists playing their harps.”

The sound of Heaven that John describes is powerful and beautiful. It is like the onslaught of a tidal wave or a thunder burst, yet it has the harmony, clarity, proportion and perfection of supreme beauty. What John is hearing is the sound of worship in Heaven.

In the Gospel, we hear another sound, neither great nor gorgeous in itself: the quiet chinking of two small coins. Yet, this simple sound has echoed for two-thousand years and millions have been drawn to it. When Jesus Himself heard the sound of the faithful, poor widow’s generous gift, He was moved to speak words in praise. Despite its subtlety, it reminded Jesus of a sound He knew well; it reminded Him of the sound of Heaven.

In our own simple ways, with unending joy, let us echo on earth the song of the angels in Heaven as they praise God’s glory for ever.

Laodicean Christians — Tuesday, 33rd Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

November 16, 2010

The Christians of Laodicea lived in what is now southwestern Turkey. Today, their city is merely ruins, but in those days it was a modern, rich, commercial center of banking, industry, and entertainment. The Christians there were well-off and contented, but Jesus knew them and their city well and he was not content with them. In the Book of Revelation He rebukes them, “You say, ‘I am rich and affluent and have no need of anything,’ and yet do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.”

A few decades before, in 60 AD, an earthquake ravaged their city and the Roman emperor offered to send them money to aid in their recovery, but within a year, the wealthy Laodiceans had finished rebuilding using only their own resources. To a people too rich and proud to accept a king’s aid, Jesus says, ‘I advise you to buy from me gold, (good works) refined by fire, so that you may be (truly) rich.’

Laodicea was home to the Marshfield Clinic of its day in the field of eye medicine. There they produced of an ointment for the eye which was used throughout the Roman empire. But Jesus urges the Chrisitians, ‘buy (true) ointment to smear on your eyes so that you may see (the truth).’

Laodicea was also known for its fine, soft, black cloth, made from the wool of the region’s excellent dark sheep. But Jesus sees the Christians’ immorality and warns, ‘put on white garments, so that your shameful nakedness may not be exposed.’

Laodicea had an aqueduct which carried water to the city from hot springs some five miles away, but by the time this water would get to them, it would be merely lukewarm; neither cold enough to cool in hot weather, nor hot enough to warm-up in cold weather. Jesus likens the Laodicean Christians to their water supply. “I know that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.”

Jesus Christ, being divine, knows the Christians of Laodicea perfectly well. By their values, words, and actions, He sees them living not much different than any other Laodiceans. And because He loves them, he corrects them, and warns them that they need to repent and to start getting serious about living true, Christian lives.

Do we live in a Christian nation? Compared to the secularized countries of Europe, or to the Asian or African countries where Christianity is the minority religion, the United States is a very Christian nation. On the other hand, only about one in four Americans went to Church last weekend. [source] Only one in four Americans offered up an hour to God, to thank Him, worship Him, and to fulfill the commandment, “You shall keep holy the Lord’s day.” Of course, being a Christian is about more than just going to Church, but this gives us some indication of our society’s commitment to Christ.

To think of our country as a Christian nation at a 25% level, or to a 25% degree, is both discouraging and encouraging. It is discouraging that our devotion is not greater, but there is encouragement to be found in this: if our society’s half-hearted, or even quarter-hearted commitment to Christ and His Gospel can do as much good as we see now, imagine what things would be like if we were whole-heartedly His disciples.

As G.K. Chesterton said, “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and not tried.” The Gospel is supposed to be radical. It’s supposed to change the world. If there is nothing very counter-cultural about your life as a Christian, then you are not yet living out the Gospel like Christ calls you to do. If you are living the same way as everyone else in our present-day Laodicea, then Jesus Christ’s wake-up call from the Book of Revelation through the centuries is addressed to you.

Jesus is looking for people who will go out on a limb for Him, people like Zacchaeus, people who will risk the mockery and judgment of others, people who would give half of their possessions to the poor if that is what Christ wills, people who will rise and open the door for Christ when they hear Him knocking. Jesus is looking for disciples who seek the riches of being a true and whole-hearted Christian. With a person like that, Jesus can change the world.

Go to church every weekend, pray every day, and do not merely learn about our faith but act on it in your life. Jesus Christ pleads to you, through me and your teachers who have witnessed their faith to you, please: go out on the limb for Him.

True Christian Soldiers — November 11 — St. Martin of Tours — Veterans Day

November 11, 2010

This morning I would like to tell you two stories. The first is the story of a cavalry officer who was sent to serve in France. He grew up in a military family and got enlisted when he was still only a teenager. Interestingly, his parents were not Christians, but this young man was studying in preparation to become a one himself. He was what we call a catechumen.

One cold winter day, at the gates of the French city of Amiens (A-mi-en), he encountered a shivering, half-naked beggar. This miserable sight disturbed the young soldier and he drew his sword from its scabbard. Because he had nothing else to give the poor man, the soldier took his own cloak, cut it in two pieces, and reaching down from his horse handed one half to the beggar. Giving away half of his cloak was no small gift, considering that the soldier himself needed to keep warm, too. In this act, he had loved his neighbor, the beggar, as himself.

That night, the soldier had a dream in which he saw Jesus Christ, surrounded by angels, and dressed in half a cloak. He heard a voice say to look at the garment and say whether he recognized it. He then heard Jesus say to the angels, “Martin, as yet only a catechumen, has covered me with his cloak.” Very soon after that dream, Martin, the 18-year-old Roman soldier, was baptized. He would go on to become a monk, a priest, and a bishop. Today we call him as St. Martin of Tours, and celebrate him as the patron saint of soldiers.

My second story comes from more recent times. A great and horrible war was raging, as it had for more than four years, killing every day. Many people could see no end in sight. But then, ninety-two years ago today, the wonderful order came announcing an end to all armed conflict at the 11th hour, of the 11th day, of the 11th month, of the year 1918. This was the end of the First World War and it came to pass on the ancient feast day of St. Martin of Tours, the 11th of November.

Do you think that St. Martin in Heaven may have prayed for his beloved France and for their enemies, too? Do you think that he interceded before God for peace on Earth? Of course he did, for he was a true Christian soldier. No true Christian soldier loves war, or even hates his enemy. He fights not because he hates who is in front of him, but because he so loves what is behind him. The Christian soldier trains for war because he loves peace.

Today we thank and honor our veterans for they have served to defend our nation and freedom-loving people around the world. Through the intercession of St. Martin of Tours, let us pray that our country, history’s most benevolent superpower, may be served by Christian soldiers like them for many peaceful generations to come.

The Saints & Us — 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year C

November 5, 2010

 
Brothers and sisters, as the Letter to the Hebrews tells us, we have approached Heaven even as we remain on earth. Though we are dust and sinners, we stand before Jesus, the eternal Father, and the Holy Spirit. We draw near to each other and they invite us to share more deeply in their friendship. And they are not alone. They are surrounded by countless angels and by a multitude of men and women whom they have made perfect in goodness and love. We have a name for these “holy ones” who live with God in Heaven. We call them “saints,” and Jesus invites us to share their friendship, too.

Have you ever had the pleasure to introduce your friends to each other; people who already know and enjoy you, but who have never met each other? I think you’ll agree that it’s a very special joy when your friends to befriend each other. When your friends befriend each other do they love you less because of it, as if their affection has been divided or diluted? No, the love between all of you is greater for being shared. So it is with Jesus, the saints, and us. Some Christians fear that befriending Jesus’ friends in Heaven will lessen our love for Him. They fear that talking to them and honoring them will distract us from Christ. But these are silly fears. Love increases by being shared.

When someone asks you, “Would you pray for me,” or asks you to pray for one of their heartfelt concerns, what do you say in reply? Do you refuse, saying, “Why should you ask me to pray for you when you can go directly to God?” Nobody says that. Instead, Christians say, “Of course I’ll pray for you.” Christians ask each other to intercede for them not because they have lost hope in Christ, but because they have it, and because Scriptures tell us, “pray for one another.” Asking our friends and family in Heaven to pray for us is no different than asking our friends and family on earth, except that the prayers of the saints are offered by souls perfected in love and divine intimacy.

What about the objection that honoring the saints distracts from Christ? Today’s Gospel shows that Jesus does not think that sharing honor with His saints detracts from His own preeminent glory. He has said to them, “My friend, move up to a higher position. Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table.” By giving seats of honor to His saints at His heavenly wedding banquet Jesus invites us to esteem them. In honoring them, we honor Him.

Remember that our circle of closest family and friends is not limited to earth. We have brothers and sisters in Heaven; saints and angels who know us, love us, and want to help us arrive at our true home. Let us remember to take the opportunity to make their acquaintance and grow in their friendship.

Uniquely Different — October 28 — Sts. Simon and Jude

November 3, 2010

[Jesus] called his disciples to himself,
and from them he chose Twelve,
whom he also named Apostles:
Simon, whom he named Peter…
Simon who was called a Zealot,
and Judas the son of James,
and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor.

In the early days of their ministry, whenever Jesus called out for ‘Simon’ or ‘Judas,’ more than one head may have turned. Among Jesus’ apostles there were two Simon’s and two Judas’. There was Simon Peter and Simon the Zealot, and Judas (or Jude) the son of James and Judas Iscariot the betrayer. Though these pairs shared the same names and the same calling to be apostles, they were different in important ways.

Simon Peter was called to be the Rock, the leader of the apostles and of the nascent Church. Simon the Zealot may have shared his zeal, but he was not meant to have the same role as Peter. Each saint’s apostleship was unique to him.

Sometimes Christians who eagerly desire to be saints themselves strive to impersonate their favorite holy heroes. We do well to learn from the lived examples of the saints, for St. Paul did say, “Be imitators of me, as I imitate Christ,” but there can truly be only one St. Paul, one St. Francis, or one St. Therese of Lisieux. Every saint in history has been unique, and every future saint will be, too.

The two Judas’ teach us a lesson, too. Even after years of preaching the Gospel, I can imagine some people felt an initial uncertainty towards Judas the son of James. Intellectually, Christians would know that this apostle could not possibly be Judas the betrayer (because he one took his own life,) yet they might feel wary about this “Judas” in their midst.

Sometimes our feelings toward other people are influenced by who they remind us of. For instance, if you meet someone whose face resembles a person who has hurt you in the past, you may be involuntarily uncomfortable around them. In psychology, this shift of emotions from one person or thing to another is called transference. This is the stuff that prejudice is made of, and the good apostle, Judas, caught some of its unjust, negative effect.

Though the apostles shared names and a common calling, they were unique individuals. The two Simons teach us that each is called to live out their own, unique, holy life. The two Judas’ teach us that we must always receive others in their own personal uniqueness.

Have A Holy Halloween!—31st Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year C

October 31, 2010

Have you ever noticed how our Christian holidays get filled with stuff that distracts us from what we’re really celebrating? Take Christmas, for example. There’s nothing wrong with exchanging gifts and decorating with tress and lights, but there is good reason in that season that we need be reminded, to “Keep Christ in Christmas.” For many people, celebrating the birth of the Prince of Peace on earth is the most stressful time of the year. Or consider Easter: There’s nothing wrong with chocolate bunnies and hunting for Easter eggs, but the connection between egg-laying rabbits and Jesus’ resurrection is tenuous at best.

However, this disconnection between Christian holy days and the cultural observance of holidays is the greatest when it comes to Halloween. There’s nothing wrong with kids playing dress-up and going door-to-door to ask for candy, (I have many happy memories of this myself,) but Halloween’s connection to its Christian holy day seems to have been forgotten. The name “Halloween” comes from “All Hallows Eve,” or the evening before All Saint’s Day. Something is “Hallowed” when it is sanctified or respected, as in, “Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name.” All Saints Day celebrates the “hallowed” ones, the holy ones, the saints who are now in Heaven. Some of these saints are canonized, but most of them are not.

For every friend and relative we knew on earth who is now in Heaven, November 1st is their feast day in the Church. And for our holy dead who are still being purified and made perfect so that they may enter the fully-unveiled presence of our infinite God, there is November 2nd, the Feast of All Souls. In this fall season, when the natural world appears dying, our Church celebrates the holy dead, for we have hope in the new life.

Halloween, or “All Hallows Eve,” is to All Saints Day what Christmas Eve is to Christmas. As Christmas Eve reminds us of Christ’s coming, so Halloween should remind us of the victory of the saints, and of our own life’s calling: to become the best possible versions of ourselves, to become saints.

I think it is in no way an overreaction to observe that the secular observance of Halloween has overtones in dark, demonic things; the things of horror. Isn’t it suspicious that from a feast celebrating the saints in light, we have a secularized holiday focused on things of darkness? Instead of Christian hope in the resurrection of the dead, Halloween gives us images of zombies. Instead of the consolation that we are surrounded by the perfected souls of the saints, who love us and are full of concern to help us, Halloween gives us tales of ghosts and demons who want to harm and scare us. How does this sort of thing happen? I don’t think it is crazy to think that the Evil One wants to distract people from the true reason for this season; that the Devil would have us thinking about him, rather than the saints, that he wants us to be terrified, rather than full of hope.

Did you know that this Sunday, Satanic worshipers will come to Masses and Catholic Churches around the country trying to steal our Lord in the Eucharist? (Interestingly, they don’t go after the communions of Protestant denominations, but only the Catholic Eucharistic Hosts.) Their plan is to desecrate Jesus in a ritual they call a Black Mass. In doing this they are trying to rebel, seeking a false freedom that cannot make them happy. They try to harm Jesus, but only hurt Him in as much as they sadden Him. These sad people, who strike out at Jesus, are really hurting themselves and the Jesus still loves them. We know that the Lord loves every person He has made, for as the first reading notes, if the Lord did not love His creations, they would not continue to exist. As we see in today’s gospel about Zacchaeus the sinful tax-collector, there is hope for them and all of us, for Jesus “has come to seek and to save what was lost,” and He calls every one of us to be happy and holy with Him.

This Halloween, let us pray for the misguided persons, who knowingly or unknowingly, will dabble in bad things tonight, that they may turn to Christ. Let also offer Jesus our consolation for how the feelings of His Sacred Heart will be wounded by their offenses against His love. And for ourselves, let us try celebrating Halloween in some different ways this year.

Maybe everyone in your household already has their trick-or-treat costumes ready (but I know it can sometimes be a last minute decision.) If you’re still looking for costume ideas, how about dressing up as an awesome saint? Saint costumes can be easy and very creative. Dressing like this delights the saints (and it will probably score you more candy.)

Does your family have a patron saint? If not, then pick one this Halloween and entrust your family to them for the year ahead. Print off their picture from the internet and put it on the wall, learn about them as a family, and pray to them, asking that they pray for you. (I, for myself, am choosing St. John Vianney this year; the patron saint of priests and a good guy to know.) Great saints are waiting, just waiting, to grow in friendship with you.

This year, make it a point to celebrate the vigils and feasts of All Saints and All Souls. Our family and friends who are now in Heaven or on their way there expect us to be joyful on these feast days in their honor, and there is not better place for us on earth to draw near to them than here, around the altar of Jesus Christ.

Christ is the Light who shines through the darkness. This Halloween, let us claim the night for Jesus Christ and His saints.

The Sorrowful Mysteries, Meditations on Vocation with the Saints

October 29, 2010

The 1st Sorrowful Mystery:
The Agony in the Garden

Years before Jesus agonized in the Garden of Gethsemane, the Blessed Virgin Mary had an agony of her own, when the Archangel Gabriel came to announce to her that she would bear the Son of God. Mary was “greatly troubled,” and the angel sought to reassure her “Do not be afraid, Mary….” Even after the plan was presented to her, she must have been full of questions about her future, like “What will Joseph and my parents think?” But Mary answered, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word,” and because she said that, Jesus could say years later, “Father… not my will but yours be done.”

God has a plan for every life, and a calling, a “vocation,” meant for them. Accepting God’s plan for our lives can take great, trusting courage, but answering “Yes” to Him will do more good than we know. Let us pray for the grace, trust, and courage to say “Yes” to our own God-given callings.

The 2nd Sorrowful Mystery:
The Scourging at the Pillar

Father Damien went to the Hawaiian island of Molokai to minister the spiritual and bodily needs of lepers exiled there. Last year, in 2009, Father Damien was canonized a saint. But in 1889, six months after his death, the following letter was published in a Protestant Christian newspaper:

Dear Brother,

In answer to your inquires about Father Damien, I can only reply that we who knew the man are surprised at the extravagant newspaper laudations, as if he was a most saintly philanthropist. The simple truth is, he was a coarse, dirty man, headstrong and bigoted. He was not sent to Molokai, but went there without orders; did not stay at the leper settlement (before he became one himself), but circulated freely over the whole island (less than half the island is devoted to the lepers), and he came often to Honolulu. He had no hand in the reforms and improvements inaugurated, which were the work of our Board of Health, as occasion required and means were provided. He was not a pure man in his relations with women, and the leprosy of which he died should be attributed to his vices and carelessness. Other have done much for the lepers, our own ministers, the government physicians, and so forth, but never with the Catholic idea of meriting eternal life.

– Yours, etc., “C. M. Hyde”

Hyde’s comments are noted today only because they were so exquisitely answered in an open letter by Robert Louis Stevenson, the author of Treasure Island (1883) and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886). Stevenson quite rightly wrote, “[If the world will] at all remember you, on the day when Damien of Molokai shall be named a Saint, it will be in virtue of one work: your letter to the Reverend H. B. Gage.” The whole reply, assessing Damien and rebuking Hyde, is worth your reading, but I will give you the closing words: “[Father Damien] is my father… and the father of all who love goodness; and he was your father too, if God had given you grace to see it.”

In yesterday’s gospel, Jesus asked, “Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” This is because when someone set about to do God’s will, the world, which opposes God, will attack that person. Criticisms will land on the just man like lashes on the back. Jesus said, “Woe to you when all speak well of you,” for ‘the world loves its own.’ If there is nothing very counter-cultural about your life, then you are not yet living out the Gospel as Christ calls you to do. Let us pray for the grace to be faithful to the Gospel, even at personal cost.

The 3rd Sorrowful Mystery:
The Crowning with Thorns

Once, when St. Maximillian Kolbe was a boy, his behavior began trying his mother’s patience. She said in exasperation, “Maximillian, what will become of you?” As St. Maximillian writes, “Later, that night, I asked the Mother of God what was to become of me. Then she came to me holding two crowns, one white, the other red. She asked me if I was willing to accept either of these crowns. The white one meant that I should persevere in purity, and the red that I should become a martyr. I said that I would accept them both.” How bold of him to imagine, and how bolder still to ask, that he might receive them both. St. Maximillian would receive both crowns, as a holy Franciscan brother, and as a victim of the Nazis at Auschwitz, where he took the place of another innocent man who was condemned to die.

At yesterday’s Mass you heard that God, by His power, “is able to accomplish far more than all we ask or imagine.” Yet we will receive little if we are too timid to imagine or ask much of Him. Let us pray for the grace to imagine and ask to be crowned by Christ with a life with far greater than whatever we would merely drift into on our own.

The 4th Sorrowful Mystery:
The Carrying of the Cross

In 1961, Gianna Molla was expecting another child. During her second month of pregnancy, a tumor developed in her uterus. She could have chosen to have her uterus removed—preserving her own life, but resulting in her baby’s death.  Instead, she chose to try having the tumor surgery removed. After the operation, complications continued throughout her pregnancy. Gianna told her family, “This time it will be a difficult delivery, and they may have to save one or the other—I want them to save my baby.” On Good Friday, 1962, Gianna gave birth to her daughter, Gianna Emanuela, but it was too late for the mother. St. Gianna Molla died one week later.

Naturally, we all hate to suffering, but if you were to ask St. Gianna Molla what was the greatest thing she ever did, the thing she least regrets and of which she is most proud, I bet she point to this final trial, carrying the cross for the life of her child. I suspect, that on the other side of death, we shall see how much good an offered suffering can do, and we will regret not having offered more. We should ask ourselves, would I rather live a great life, or merely an easy one. Let us pray for the grace to be a lasting blessing to others though the crosses that come our way.

The 5th Sorrowful Mystery:
The Crucifixion

We think of Mexico as one of the most Catholic countries there are, but in 1920’s, it was illegal to celebrate Mass there.  That did not stop priests like Blessed Miguel Pro, S.J. from sneaking about to minister to people in their homes.  After many close calls, Fr. Pro was captured by police and condemned to death on false charges that he was somehow connected to a bombing assassination plot.

When he was led out for his execution by firing squad, Fr. Pro be blessed the soldiers, knelt and quietly prayed for a time. Declining a blindfold, he faced his executioners with a crucifix in one hand and a rosary in the other and held his arms out in imitation of the crucified Christ and shouted, “May God have mercy on you! May God bless you! Lord, you know that I am innocent! With all my heart I forgive my enemies!” Just before the firing squad was ordered to shoot, he proclaimed, “Viva Cristo Rey!” (“Long live Christ the King!”) When the first shots failed to kill him, a soldier shot him point-blank. The government had a photographer on hand, capturing these moments for propaganda purposes, but soon after the images were published their possession was made illegal—a Catholic priest dying faithfully and bravely was an inspiration giving new life to a people oppressed.

At the end of the Rosary we pray, “O God… grant, we beseech Thee, that, meditating upon these mysteries of the Most Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may imitate what they contain and obtain what they promise through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.” If we are faithful to Christ, the mysteries of His life we be made manifest in our own. And if we are faithful to Christ, we will receive a glory similar to His own. Let us pray for the grace to live extraordinary lives in the likeness of Jesus Christ.