Archive for the ‘Christian Perfection’ Category

Associated Priests

October 30, 2021

31st Sunday in Ordinary Time

For the past four weeks, our second reading has come from the Letter to the Hebrews. This New Testament book shows Jesus Christ as our great, faithful, and merciful high priest: holy, innocent, and undefiled, yet patient and compassionate. He is able to personally sympathize with us in our weaknesses because, though sinless, he shares in our humanity and struggle. Jesus Christ is a priest forever offering his one perfect sacrifice to God the Father in a priesthood which does not pass away.

As the Catechism teaches, the redemptive sacrifice of Christ is unique, accomplished once for all; but this sacrifice is made present for us at Mass. The same is true of the one priesthood of Christ; Jesus’ priesthood is unique, but it is made present for us through the ministerial priesthood which he founded at the Last Supper. Jesus commands his apostles, “Do this in memory of me,” ordaining them priests of his New Covenant. Yet only Christ is the true priest, while they are merely his ministers.

Besides the unique priesthood of Jesus Christ and the ministerial priesthood of his ordained bishops and priests, there is the common priesthood (that is to say, an equally-shared priesthood) of all the faithful, which is ours through baptism. Sharing in Christ’s identity as priest, prophet, and king, each of us have holy sacrifices to offer, each of us have holy truth to proclaim, and each of us have holy power to wield. The Second Vatican Council noted, pastors “know that they themselves were not meant by Christ to shoulder alone the entire saving mission of the Church toward the world.” The ministerial priesthood is at the service of your priesthood, so that you — sanctified, strengthened, enlightened, and formed — can be as Jesus Christ and his saints for this place and time.

The scribe in today’s gospel approaches Jesus and asks: “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus answers that the first in importance is this: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.” And the second is this: “‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” We must be entirely devoted to God, lovingly serving his kingdom according to our personal gifts and callings. And yet, even when we’re giving our all, we remain limited creatures. For instance, time spent doing one thing cannot be spent doing something else. And we are not pure, angelic spirits but physically embodied creatures, beset by weakness and fatigue.

I have experienced this these past four years as your pastor, having two parishes and a school, celebrating thirteen or fourteen Masses a week, with usually five Masses to offer on the weekends. Plus there’s confessions, funerals, anointings, and weddings; school activities and CCD; answering correspondence and completing paperwork; writing for the bulletins and the Sunday homily; and meetings or appointments on most weeknights. I mention this not to brag or complain, but to show why this is grinding and draining and why I do not do more — there is only one of me. I would like to do more than these things I do, but I feel I can’t – not without some help or relief. That’s why I have been working with our parish councils for several months seeking a good solution.

Today, I can announce good news: St. Paul’s and St. John the Baptist’s parishes will soon have an additional priest. This associate priest will assist me, your pastor, in serving you. His name is Fr. Chinnappan, a priest from India, who presently happens to be Fr. John Potaczek’s associate in Mauston. Fr. Potaczek will have a new associate, but Fr. Chinnappan will officially begin ministry here with us, with lodging at St. John’s rectory, on December 1st of this year.

This means that our current weekend Mass schedule will not need to change next year. We’ll have more flexibility in scheduling funerals and more opportunities for confession. Weekday Masses will become Communion Services much less often than before. And visiting priests will no longer be needed for helpouts. Fr. Chinnappan is excited to teach a religion class at St. Paul’s School next semester, and now there will typically be at least one priest around at both parishes for each night of CCD.

I look forward to the unique gifts and perspective Fr. Chinnappan will bring to St. Paul’s and St. John the Baptist’s. I trust that you will make him welcome, and be patient with us who serve you. For myself, I am most excited to have more opportunities to engage, teach, and evangelize, drawing souls more closely and profoundly to Christ here at our church and school. I have some new ideas in mind, and I want to hear your ideas and any offers to help. Jesus wills for you and I to be one hundred percent devoted, with all our heart and mind, soul and strength. Let us serve Jesus Christ, our priest and king, as saints for this parish according to our own unique gifts and callings.

The Cup Jesus Drank

October 17, 2021

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, approach Jesus asking for a favor: “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.” Jesus says to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup that I drink…?” They respond, “We can!” Jesus answers them, “The cup that I drink, you will drink… but to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared.

Jesus told James and John, “You do not know what you are asking,” but how well do we understand what Jesus is saying here? What was the cup that Jesus would drink? How would Jesus be enthroned in glory? And who got those places at his right and his left? The answers are found in the gospel accounts of the Passion.

Jesus, the night before he died, prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.” And again, “My Father, if it is not possible that this cup pass without my drinking it, your will be done!” Earlier that same evening, at the Last Supper, Jesus told his disciples, “from this time on I shall not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes. … Amen, I say to you, I shall not drink again the fruit of the vine until the day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.” So when is the next time we see Jesus drink “the fruit of the vine”? All four gospels record that Jesus was given wine on his Cross. In his suffering, Jesus said, “I thirst.” Someone soaked a sponge in a vessel filled with sour wine and put it up to his mouth. Once Jesus had taken the wine, he said, “It is finished,” and then he died.

Alongside the cross of Jesus a pair of guilty criminals were also crucified; one on his right and the other on his left. Both of them had mocked Jesus at first, but then one of them repented. Acknowledging Christ’s innocence and lordship, he asked: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And Jesus replied to him, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.

So what is the cup which Jesus drank? His cup is a cup of suffering. When and where was Jesus first enthroned in the kingdom of God? He is enthroned in glory upon his Cross. And who received the places at his right and left? Those places close to Jesus went first to two crucified criminals. Indeed, James and John in today’s gospel did not know what they were asking. Yet these apostles would go on to be glorified through their own shares in Christ’s sufferings: including martyrdom for St. James and exile for St. John “the Beloved Disciple.”

Many people struggle to reconcile the reality of suffering with the power and love of God. Some Christians even mistakenly preach a “Prosperity Gospel,” saying that if you believe in God and love him, he will bless you so that bad things never happen to you. But this view is incomplete. There are true blessings which flow from following Jesus Christ and his Gospel, but the worldview of the “Prosperity Gospel” sets believers up for a fall. When painful hardship or tragedy eventually come, those Christians will either blame themselves for not having had enough faith or blame God for seeming to fail them. This latter group wonders, “If God is not dependable, why should I keep faith in him?” And then, feeling wounded, confused, and abandoned, they abandon God.

We do not completely understand the mystery of evils in our world; why a devastating earthquake happens to some particular city, why a particular healthy adult gets cancer, or why a particular young person perishes in a car wreck. We do know that God’s thoughts are higher than our thoughts, that his plans see farther than our sight. And we know that God, who is the highest good, would not permit evils to exist unless his omnipotence and goodness were such as to bring good even out of evil. In Jesus Christ we see that God intimately knows and deeply cares about all the things we suffer. So what is the Lord up to?

It’s no coincidence that all four gospels mention how Jesus is crucified between two criminals, one on his right and the other on his left, with one who repents and one who appears not to repent. All of humanity is similarly suffering as a result of our original or personal sin. We too begin as guilty rebels condemned. But on the Cross, Jesus Christ the Son of God, though divine and innocent, joins us in our suffering.

The Letter to the Hebrews observes that in him “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has similarly been tested in every way…” This divine plan for Christ to be a suffering servant was foretold through the Prophet Isaiah centuries before: “If he gives his life as an offering for sin… the will of the Lord shall be accomplished through him. …Through his suffering, my servant shall justify many, and their guilt he shall bear.

This Good Shepherd intimately understands the sufferings of the flock. He comes down from his high mountain into our dark valley and calls us to himself. We can respond to him with faith, acknowledging his goodness and lordship as sheep on his right. Or we can remain as faithless goats on his left, unrepentant for our sins and rejecting Christ forever. Realize that Jesus Christ desires not merely to forgive our sins, but that you and I would become children of God the Father just like himself.

Why do evils and sufferings continue to afflict those who follow Christ? As I said before, we do not know the answer to every painful question. (I believe we will understand God’s plan and purposes far better in heaven when he ‘wipes away every tear from our eyes.’) But we do know that Jesus Christ wants us to share in his own greatness and glory.

In today’s gospel, Jesus tries to help his disciples see that the path to true greatness and glory are not what they imagine. “Those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles,” Jesus notes, “lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.

In our loving service and in our faithful suffering, we become more like Jesus. With Jesus, our sacrifices and sufferings are redemptive, helping to make us saints while helping to save the world. This is the precious, challenging, saving cup our Lord offers us. But can we drink it? With the grace and love of Jesus Christ strengthening us, we can!

Cutting Off the Near Occasions

September 25, 2021

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Jesus says if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. If your foot causes you to sin, cut if off. If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter into eternal life maimed, or crippled, or half-blinded, than with two hands, two feet, and two eyes to be thrown into Gehenna (into hell) forever. There are two mistakes one can make with this gospel teaching. The first mistake is less grave than the other.

This first mistake would be imagining that one’s hand, foot, or eye were the source of your sins. If that were what Jesus meant, how could he think that plucking out just one eye, would be an effective solution? Pretty much any sin you can do with two eyes can be done just as easily with one. No, the Church does not encourage elective amputations because that’s not what Jesus is saying here. Jesus is using hyperbole, over-the-top rhetoric, to vividly drive home an important point.

As much as you enjoy your hand, your foot, or your eye, you can live without them. So if any of these were leading you to your death, you would be a fool not to part ways with it. How much more so is this true for the lesser things people enjoy which lead to spiritual death?

Human beings, for better or worse, are creatures of habit. The sins we commit and the virtues we practice tend to be habitual. So think: is there a person, setting, or thing that often leads you to sin? Whom do you sin with? Where and when do you sin? What object, substance, or technology do you sin with often? Jesus knows that you know your pattern of weakness and sin, or that you could easily recognize your pattern with a little self-reflection, and he wants you to take this issue seriously. For the love of God who loves you, for the good of your own soul and the souls of others, curtail in your life the near occasions of sin or, even better, cut them out entirely. Make a firm resolution, make a conscious renunciation, make a good confession, and begin better living the life Jesus wills for you.

Now here is the second, graver mistake people make with Jesus’ teaching. Since Jesus uses hyperbolic imagery about chopping off body parts some think that he isn’t being serious about the dangers of hell. Yes, Jesus uses symbolic imagery to describe it, but hell is very real.

Gehenna, for instance, was a valley southwest of Jerusalem, just outside the walls of God’s holy city. It had once been the site of pagan temples where children were offered as holocausts to idols of Baal and Moloch. The Jews went on to use that shameful place as a smoldering garbage dump, with rotten, worm-infested refuse and continuously burning trash. Will there be literal fire in hell? Maybe not. We would not say hell must have “undying worms” for Jesus’ teachings to be true. But fire does speak to great agony and worms to corruption.

In Jesus’ parable of the royal wedding guests, the king finds a man unfit for his feast. The king says to his servants, “Bind his hands and feet, and cast him into the darkness outside, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.” Wailing accompanies despair and the grinding of teeth, violent anger. As light is to vision and wisdom, the outer darkness is to blindness and error – error which is not innocent ignorance but falsehood blamefully embraced.

In that parable, the condemned one is utterly bound, hand and foot, and thrown out. Yet in Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats, the condemned go off on their own. Christ tells us that when he returns as king he will sit upon his glorious throne and turn to the unrighteous goats on his left and say, “Depart from me, you accursed…” And these, he tells us, “will go off to eternal punishment.” Hell is their sentence, but hell is also what they have freely chosen.

Grave sin, freely and knowingly chosen, is a rejection of the Kingdom of God. Mortal sin rejects Christ’s Way; it rejects the life of heaven. This decision to stray is ours, but the decision to respond to God’s grace and return is ours as well.

People today assume almost everybody is going to heaven, but the early Church Fathers were far less optimistic. Whether the number who will be saved in the end is a majority or a minority of the human race, I want all of you to make it. So please take Christ’s words to you seriously. Repent of your sins and change your ways. This is Jesus’ loving will for you.

Geraldine, Genghis, & John — Funeral Homily for Geraldine Halfman, 82

September 24, 2021

I would like to reflect with you today upon three people who have passed away. You have heard of all three, but you have only met one of them. Their names are Geraldine, Genghis, and John.

John lived a century ago. He made his fortune in American oil. Adjusting for inflation, he is considered the richest person in modern history and the wealthiest American of all time. He died at age 97, taking none of his money with him to the grave, leaving all his wealth behind.

Genghis lived eight centuries ago. He led conquering armies on horseback throughout Central Asia and reigned over one of the largest empires in history. He fathered so many children in his lifetime that an estimated 8% of all people living in that region of the world today are direct descendants of his. After many years of killing others, Genghis died himself, lost his throne, and left behind his empire to others.

Geraldine (or Gerry) was born in 1939. She conquered no lands. She never accumulated vast riches. She raised no biological children of her own. Her life’s most significant work may have been caring for her eldest sister. Gerry’s sister, Mary, became sick as a teenager from M.S. (multiple sclerosis) and needed ongoing care until her death at the age 70. Gerry spent decades living with and helping Mary; bathing her, dressing her, feeding her, and giving her worthwhile activities to engage with and enjoy. The world would encourage Geraldine to go off and live her own life but Gerry loved her sister as herself, as Jesus Christ and her Catholic Faith taught her to do. Geraldine died on her eighty-second birthday.

Geraldine, Genghis, and John are three very different people, who lived very different lives, but they share these things in common: all three lived, all three died, the souls of all three will have been judged, and all three of them will rise again. “For we shall all stand before the judgment seat of God,” and “each of us shall give an accounting of himself to God,” and all the dead shall rise again on the Last Day.

What will be important at our Last Judgment? What will matter on the Last Day? Jesus tells us:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the land.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.”

Remember that Jesus Christ is the measure of what matters. And in the end, every knee shall bend before him, either in resentful submission, as with the condemned, or in faithful love, as his holy ones.

Pray for Geraldine’s soul. Like gold in a furnace, she might still require the healing fire of God to purify her sin-wounded person into perfect flawlessness, so that God may take her to the fully-unveiled presence of his all-holy self. But do not fear for her, for in the words of the Book of Wisdom: “Those who trust in him shall understand truth, [including the truth about what is most important,] and the faithful shall abide with him in love. Grace and mercy are with his holy ones, and his care is with his elect.”

Does Jesus Have an Arc?

September 19, 2021

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) in The Hunger Games (2014)

When I was growing up, my dad read a lot of science fiction novels and he once made an observation that I’ve remembered ever since. He noted how science fiction stories always feature some futuristic thing (like cloning, time-machines, or space travel) but if a sci-fi story only talked about the technology, it would be boring. “Every good story,” he said, “is a story about people.” It’s true. All great stories, be they found in literature, television, or film, are stories about people – interesting characters living through events.

What do Katniss Everdeen, Sir Thomas More, and Paddington Bear have in common? They are all film characters with the same kind of character arc. A character arc refers to the inner journey of a character throughout the course of a story. A character may go here or there, and do this or that, but their character arc is their transformation as a person. There are three main types of character arc: Positive, Negative, and Flat.

Positive arc characters change for the better. They originally believe lies about themselves and the world, things like “I’ll never find true love,” or “I can’t be a warrior.” But by the end, they’ve found the truth, embraced it, and triumphed. Most of the stories you’ve seen or heard are stories like this. Negative arc characters, on the other hand, change for the worse. They come to accept lies and wickedness. Villains’ origin stories are like this. Michael Corleone from The Godfather or Walter White in Breaking Bad are famous examples of characters with negative arcs. Katniss Everdeen, Thomas More, and Paddington, however, are characters of a third type; characters who do not change.

Flat arc characters possess the truth and live it out from the start of their stories to the end. These characters also experience struggles like the others, but rather than being transformed themselves they transform the people and world around them. In The Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen, from beginning to end, knows that the tyrannical government is evil and is willing to sacrifice herself for others (as for her little sister, Prim). In A Man for All Seasons, 1966’s Best Picture winning film about a real-life Catholic saint, Sir Thomas More is a man of virtue who endures persecution for refusing to swear a false oath against his conscience and God’s law. And throughout the Paddington movies, young Paddington remains consistently earnest, honest, polite, and friendly while enhancing the lives of the people he meets.

When we consider the Gospels and the Book of Acts as stories (indeed, true stories and the greatest ever told) what kind of arcs do we find? What kind of arc does Jesus Christ have, and what sort of characters are his apostles? Though Jesus is born as a baby and grows into adulthood, though he ministers and is put to death as a suffering servant and returns as triumphant Lord, Christ’s inner self remains the same. The Person of Jesus Christ is divine, the eternal Son of God, a flat arc character who remains the same “yesterday, today, and forever.” He knows the wickedness of the world and sacrifices himself for others. He only speaks the truth and makes no compromise with evil, despite its persecutions. And his love converts the hearts of others, healing and saving the world around him. Jesus is the model, the pattern, the archetype, of every true hero.

What is the character arc of his apostles? The Gospels do not hide their flaws. We catch them arguing among themselves about who is the greatest. They still believe the world’s lies about who and what’s important, which produces the disorders St. James describes: jealousy, envy, and selfish ambition, greed, fighting, and slavery to passions, with every foul practice. But by the Book of Acts, the apostles’ positive arc has led each of them (except Judas Iscariot) to see that the greatest of all is not the ruler over peoples but the one who cares for even little ones. Jesus’ apostles have become new men, loving servants of all in the likeness of their Lord.

We human beings love stories. That’s part of why Jesus so often taught in parables. But why do we love stories so much? And why do we root for the underdogs, such as Rocky Balboa, Forrest Gump, or Joan of Arc? We love them because we are in a story ourselves, God’s great underdog story, in which you and I are characters. Our lives are important subplots to Christ’s overarching saga. We are co-authoring with Jesus our own character arcs within it.

Will you rise higher and higher in a positive arc, finding the truth in Christ’s Church, embracing the truth and living it out? Will you eventually become like Jesus and his greatest saints, who hold to the truth in a flat arc, blessing and transforming all around them? Or, following lies into darkness, will a negative arc lead you to final tragedy and disaster? If you are on this downward path, realize that a vast audience in heaven looks on, longing for a plot-twist which you can accomplish with Christ. But do not delay, for you do not know how many more pages of the book or minutes in the movie remain before your life’s eternal epilogue. This Sunday’s gospel antiphon acclaims: “God has called us through the Gospel to possess the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Let us whole-heartedly play our part in Jesus Christ’s heroic saga, that we may also share in his story’s glorious happy ending.

Following the Shepherd

September 12, 2021

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time

[Homily Part 1 at both parishes]

Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ.” That was a correct and inspired answer. Jesus then began to openly teach his disciples that he, as the Christ, must greatly suffer, be rejected by the Jewish religious leaders, be murdered, and rise after three days. Peter then took Jesus aside and began to correct him. St. Matthew reports that Peter said, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you!” At this, Jesus turned and, looking at his disciples, rebuked Peter in return, saying, “Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” Jesus calls St. Peter, his apostle, his Church’s first pope—“Satan.” What are we to make of this?

Satan” is the title given to the highest angel who rebelled against God at the beginning of Creation. The Book of Revelation recalls how “the serpent of old who is called the devil and Satan, who deceives the whole world … was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.” Jesus talks about this Evil One: “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. … He was a murderer from the beginning and does not stand in truth, because there is no truth in him. …He is a liar and the father of lies.” Both Jesus Christ and his Church today definitely believe in the Devil and that he prowls about the world opposing God and our good. But Jesus does not accuse Peter of being that fallen angel.

The Hebrew word “satan” means “adversary.” Jesus calls Peter his adversary at that moment because he is opposing God’s plan and being an obstacle in Jesus’ path. Like the Devil during the Temptations in the Desert, Peter is suggesting that Jesus be a Messiah who never suffers, a rich, powerful, comfortable Christ who imposes his will over peoples in the same mold as earthly kings. This is what Peter and Judas and the Jews in those days expected. But Jesus knew that the Christ must greatly suffer if the Kingdom of God would save human souls.

During the forty days in the desert, Jesus rebuked the Devil, “Get away, Satan!” And at the Last Judgment, Christ the King upon his throne will tell the unrighteous goats on his left, “Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” But notice Jesus does not say to Peter “get away” or “depart from me.” Jesus tells him, “get behind me.” Peter is not yet thinking as God does but the Lord Jesus does not desire to cast Peter off forever, if that fate can be avoided. If Peter would humbly follow Jesus, the Lord would show him the Way. Jesus saying “get behind me” was not a personal rejection of Peter, but asking him to follow his Good Shepherd from a new perspective to the Promised Land of heaven.

[Homily Part 2 at St. Paul’s]

Peter thought he had a great plan for Jesus and himself, but Jesus had a different plan, a more challenging plan, but a better plan for them both.

There is godly prudence in our forming of plans and working hard to achieve them. Like in Aesop’s fable about the ant and the grasshopper, the Book of Proverbs urges the lazy to work and prepare for tomorrow: “Go to the ant, O sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise. Without having any chief, officer, or ruler, she prepares her bread in summer and gathers her food in harvest.” St. Paul believed in Divine Providence, but also taught the Thessalonians: “When we were with you, we instructed you that if anyone was unwilling to work, neither should that one eat.” And Jesus said, “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it?” Jesus then encourages his hearers to be just as prudently intentional and totally invested in being his disciple. It is good for us to make plans and work hard toward worthy goals. But we should also keep in mind that all of our earthly plans are uncertain.

We simply do not know what our remaining time on this earth will be like. St. James writes in his New Testament Letter: “Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we shall go into such and such a town, spend a year there doing business, and make a profit’ — you have no idea what your life will be like tomorrow. You are a puff of smoke that appears briefly and then disappears. Instead you should say, ‘If the Lord wills it, we shall live to do this or that.’” As another verse from the Book of Proverbs says: “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.

In this land of the living, we do not know our earthly futures and we cannot control everything to make our futures entirely as we’d like. But then again, who’s to say that knowing our future perfectly would be good for us? Who’s to say that having the power to craft a future exactly to our liking, would be best for us? We very well may not know what is best for us and what is best for us may not be something we would readily choose. We do not always think as God does, but as human beings do.

Young Simon Peter could not imagine that the Christ would be killed, but this was how Jesus would save the world. Young Peter used to dress himself and go where he wanted; but when he grew old, he stretched out his hands and someone else dressed him and led him where he did not want to go. Jesus had foretold this to Peter, signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God in the divine plan: crucified in the likeness of his friend and Lord and God, and sharing (more than most) in his glory. Our personalized path to sainthood may not be the one we’d expect or choose for ourselves.

We ought to plan and work hard towards worthy goals, even though this broken world and the sins of men and demons make all of our plans uncertain. Our human sight and wisdom are limited. We do not always see, or have the courage to pursue, what is best for us. But we do know, as St. Paul taught the Romans, “that God works all things for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Jesus tells us, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it.” With this firm confidence, let us get behind Jesus Christ and follow him who leads our lives to salvation even through the Cross.

[Homily Part 2 at St. John the Baptist’s]

This is where your homily this morning diverges from what I’m preaching at St. Paul’s this weekend because I have been meaning to talk to you about ad Orientem Masses. Since the Second Vatican Council, the most common way priests have celebrated Mass is versus populum, or “towards the people.” Yet the much longer-practiced custom has been for the priest and the people to face literally or symbolically towards the East together, or “ad Orientem.” Like Muslims today who pray towards Mecca, the custom of the Jews was to pray towards the Temple in their holy city of Jerusalem. The writings of the Church Fathers show that the early Christians prayed towards the east.

In the second century, St. Clement of Alexandria wrote “prayers are made looking towards the sunrise in the east.” And in the third century, Origen noted: “…Of all the quarters of the heavens, the east is the only direction we turn to when we pour out prayer…” Tertullian records that Christians facing east to pray caused some non-Christians to mistakenly believe we worshiped the sun. But the Christians praying towards the sunrise saw a symbol of Christ rising from the dead and of his promised return to earth in radiant glory one day. Throughout the centuries, even in churches which were not built to face east, the priest and the people faced the same direction (or “liturgical east”) together. However, since the 1970’s the prevailing custom has been for the priest to face towards the congregation.

Now I am not saying that one way of celebrating English Masses is good and the other way is terrible. The Catholic Church approves both versus populum and ad Orientem as valid, legitimate options. But these two ways of celebrating the Mass emphasize different things. Celebrating versus populum, toward the people, emphasizes the horizontal aspect, the communal meal. And the Holy Mass is indeed a meal, a memorial of the Last Supper; where Jesus Christ and his disciples gather at his table. Celebrating ad Orientem, toward the East, emphasizes the vertical aspect, the sacrificial offering. And the Holy Mass is indeed a sacrifice, a memorial of the Cross; where Jesus Christ is offered up for us from his altar.

I experienced my first ad Orientem Mass back when I was still in seminary. The celebrant was a priest of our diocese, a graduate from our seminary returning to visit us, Fr. Derek Sakowski. I remember fearing that I would hate the Mass being said that way because I often dislike change. (For instance, our seminary once changed the toaster in the dining hall and, even though I almost never used that old toaster, I was annoyed when they had replaced it with another because the old one was pleasantly familiar.) Fr. Sakowski said the same English prayers as at other Masses, but seeing him celebrating that Mass ad Orientem, facing us when speaking to us and facing God when praying to God, I found it surprisingly beautiful and it made a lot of sense. Here at St. John the Baptist Church, I’ve celebrated our Monday, Thursday, and First Friday Masses ad Orientem since 2019, and attendees have reported positive experiences similar to mine. I’d like to give you the opportunity to experience this, too.

Around fifty years ago, when versus populum (Mass facing the people) became the prevailing custom in the Church, pastors often introduced the liturgical change abruptly and without adequate explanation. It was jarring, many lay people were bewildered and hurt, and public Masses celebrated ad Orientem were very rarely offered. I do not wish to repeat those mistakes going in the opposite direction.

Having consulted with our Parish Pastoral Council (who encouraged me to proceed with this plan) I’d like to alternate celebrating Masses ad Orientem and versus populum over four upcoming weekends. This means that if you consistently attend the same Mass time over those four weeks, you’ll experience the English Mass offered ad Orientem twice. Come with an open mind. After that, I’ll survey your feedback. Which approach do you find more fruitful? Which weekend Mass would you like to see celebrated ad Orientem on a regular basis: Saturday night, Sunday morning, neither, or both? I’ll want to hear what would help you worship best, and then we’ll go from there. For now, let us turn to Jesus Christ who invites us this morning, like St. Peter before us, to share in his holy meal and his perfect sacrifice.

Ephphatha! Be Opened!

September 5, 2021

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

What message does the Holy Spirit want you to hear through this homily? In what way does Jesus want you to be opened?

In today’s gospel, people bring to Jesus a deaf man with a speech impediment. They had heard Jesus’ teachings and reports of his miracles. Maybe they had seen and experienced his healing power themselves, so they bring this man to Jesus and beg the Lord to lay his hand and heal him. See how they lead someone they care about to meet Jesus and intercede before the Lord on his behalf. You and I are called to bring people to Jesus, too, and pray to God for their salvation. This gospel story shows that miracles can happen when we do.

Jesus takes this deaf man off by himself, away from the crowd. Like St. Zachariah, the father of St. John the Baptist, whose neighbors and relatives had resorted to making gestures to ask him the name of his newborn son, the deaf man’s speech problem is related (at least in part) to his inability to hear. Jesus wills to restore both the man’s hearing and speech, and see how our Lord does it: he puts his finger into the man’s ears and, spitting, touches the man’s tongue. Notice that Jesus does not heal this man through a word alone but through a physical encounter with himself. Likewise, Jesus encounters us today not only through his Scriptures and his Spirit, but through his Body and his Sacraments. The visible Church of Christ on earth and this material world have key parts to play in our salvation. And notice that this deaf man is delivered not merely through action alone, but also through prayer.

Jesus looks up to his Father God in heaven and groans, and says to the man, “Be opened!” (which is, “Ephphatha” in the Aramaic tongue). Behold the intensity of Jesus’ desire for this man’s good, the yearning in our Lord’s prayer. St. Paul writes in his Letter to the Romans that the Holy Spirit intercedes within us to help us intensely will what God wills, aiding our prayer with what Paul calls “inexpressible groanings.” St. Augustine preaches that the task of prayer “is generally accomplished more through sighs than words, more through weeping than speech.” So remember that you do not need many eloquent words in order to powerfully pray. A heartfelt groan can obtain a miracle.

Jesus says to the man, “Be opened!” and immediately the man’s ears are opened, the man’s mouth opens too, and he begins speaking plainly. The Holy Spirit inspired this story’s inclusion within St. Mark’s Gospel, and Christ’s Church recalls this episode in her Masses all around the world today. This is because Jesus’ healing of that deaf man has relevance for us all. This is reflected at sacrament of baptism. There is a custom of the priest or deacon touching the baby’s ears and lips with his thumb and praying: “May the Lord Jesus, who made the deaf to hear and the mute to speak, grant that you may soon receive his word with your ears and profess the faith with your lips, to the glory of God the Father. Amen.” This tradition is called the Ephphatha Rite. The story of Jesus curing that deaf man is meant to make us consider: how is the Lord wishing me, commanding me, to be opened?

Today’s first reading from the Prophet Isaiah proclaims that our God comes to save us, to clear the ears of the deaf and cause the tongues of the mute to sing. But this reading begins by saying “to those whose hearts are frightened: Be strong, fear not!” Do not be afraid of what our Lord wishes for you. Be strong and fulfill his command. Ephphatha! Be opened! But in what way does Jesus want you to be opened? Would he open your ears to somehow listen, or open your mouth to somehow speak, or open your heart to feel somehow, or open your mind to somehow think anew? The Holy Spirit can tell you.

Perhaps, like St. James talks about in today’s second reading, you are called to be more open to respecting and caring for the poor. Or perhaps there’s a person in your life whom you’ve been overlooking, neglecting someone you are called to be more open to. Maybe Jesus would take you off by yourself, away from the crowd, to be open to more daily prayer, or calling to follow him more closely in your vocation.

After curing the deaf man, Jesus ordered that the miracle be kept secret (for the time was not ripe for it to be shared). Yet the more he commanded this, the more they proclaimed it. Now we are commanded to share the Good News with others, and yet we are often silent. Perhaps Jesus wants you to be open to speaking with other people about your Faith. Maybe invite a non-Catholic person you’re close to to attend RCIA, which begins at St. Paul’s on September 16th.

I do not know in what particular way God desires you to be opened. But I believe that Jesus Christ, who “has done all things well,” who succeeded in making even the ears of a deaf man hear him, can surely tell you his will through the Spirit.

Mary & the Holy Eucharist

August 14, 2021

Solemnity of the Assumption
(20th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Year B)

The first three evangelists, Saints Matthew, Mark, and Luke, all detail the same event from the Last Supper. In his First Letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul recounts it in these words:

“I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’”

At every Mass, we recall how Jesus instituted the Holy Eucharist the night before he died. But the Gospel of John does not feature these words of institution. The Last Supper spans five full chapters in John’s Gospel—spending far more verses detailing Jesus’ words and deeds at table that night than is done by Matthew, Mark, and Luke combined—yet the phrase “This is my Body” is not included there. Why is this?

Both the early Church Fathers and modern scripture scholars agree that John’s was the last canonical gospel to be written. St. John probably thought it was unnecessary to retread again the same familiar ground as his predecessors, so he chose to omit the institution narrative. Instead, St. John shares with us the Bread of Life discourse. We’ve been listening to this chapter from John for the previous two weeks. Next Sunday presents the resolution of this story. And this Sunday, we would ordinarily be hearing the climax of Jesus’ teaching. Rather than being quoted saying “This is my body” at the Last Supper, in this gospel Jesus declares at the synagogue in Capernaum:

“Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. …For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him. …The one who feeds on me will have life because of me. …Whoever eats this bread will live forever.”

The other gospels include the eucharistic words of institution, but John particularly emphasizes Jesus’ real eucharistic presence.

As I said, we would ordinarily be hearing this climax to Jesus’ Bread of Life discourse this weekend, but it is preempted this year by the August 15th Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Now I’m a very big fan of Mary but I also love that particular gospel reading from John 6, so I was a bit disappointed when I realized the first would be cancelling the second. But then I reflected upon Mary’s profound connections to Jesus’ Real Presence in the Eucharist, and there is actually great beauty in the convergence of these two holy days.

Consider: from where did Jesus receive the flesh he gives us in the Holy Eucharist? God ordained that Jesus Christ receive his human nature from his mother, Mary. At the Annunciation, Mary gave God her pure flesh and pure “yes,” saying “Let it be done to me according to your word,” on behalf of all humanity. That she might respond with a truly free “yes” and be a truly worthy source and vessel for her Son, the most Blessed Virgin Mary was preserved in flawless holiness by the grace of God from the first moment of her life. She lived all her days on earth in sanctity untainted by sin. The 16th psalm proclaims of God: “You will not allow your holy one to see decay.” And so, “the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory.” This is the wonderful event which we remember and celebrate with Jesus and Mary today.

The sacred body and precious blood of Jesus we see held aloft at Mass come to us through the Blessed Virgin Mary. She is symbolically present on the altar as well. Consider the chalice. It is made from a precious metal and fashioned for a sacred purpose. It is traditionally veiled, denoting its dignity and sanctity. It is femininely curved, a vessel open to receiving and holding God’s gifts. The chalice is a symbol of the Virgin Mary, who is not to be adored as God and yet who is most profoundly close to him. Like Mary at the visit of the Magi, the chalice holds Jesus for all peoples to adore him.

At the Annunciation, after Mary responded, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word,” did she feel anything the instant the Word became flesh within her? Maybe she had the most enrapturing mystical experience ever known. Or maybe, when the angel departed from her, she felt nothing at the moment of the Incarnation. Either extreme seems possible, or it may have been something in between. When you receive the Holy Eucharist, you may or may not be graced to feel any different from the presence of Jesus within you. But consider how Jesus Christ has come to dwell in you at the center of your being as he did first within the Blessed Virgin Mary.

May Blessed Mary, the source of Christ’s flesh; the Lord’s holy chalice; the first Christian to commune with Jesus; intercede for you, helping you to know, love, and follow her Son. May you join them both in heaven one day so that all generations may call you blessed.

Drawn to Jesus by God’s Grace

August 8, 2021

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Deacon Matthew Bowe

There are many things that we are drawn to. I am drawn to delicious food, as you can tell. I am also drawn to playing golf, watching the Olympics, and spending time with friends and family. I have noticed that we can easily talk about the tangible and physical things that we are drawn to, whether it be sports, fishing, hunting, outdoor activities, card-playing, work, or any other thing. Curiously, I wondered how do we tell others about the spiritual things that we are drawn to? Examples include praying, going to Mass, charitable works, retreats, and any other sort of thing. Do we not tell people because we are not drawn to spiritual things, or do physical things attract us more than the spiritual things?

Currently, we are in the middle of the Bread of Life discourse from the Gospel of John. Two weeks ago, it was the reading about the multiplication of the loaves. Jesus fed five thousand people with just five barley loaves and two fish. In that story, the power of Jesus can do a lot with the little that we can give Him. Last week, the crowds pursued Jesus seeking to have this bread always, and the reading concluded with Jesus saying that he was the bread of life. Whoever comes to Him will never hunger, and whoever believes in Him will never thirst. In his writings, the evangelist John never uses the word “miracle.” Rather, he writes about the signs that Jesus worked. A sign points toward something. A stop sign signifies that it is the law to stop at this intersection. In this Gospel, the physical signs point to a spiritual reality. In this Bread of Life discourse, the physical sign is the bread, and the spiritual reality is that Jesus is the bread of life. This is one reason John wrote the Gospel – to show that Jesus was not only fully human but also fully divine.

Now, we turn to today’s Gospel reading. The Jews are murmuring and struggling that Jesus said that He is the bread that came down from heaven. The crowd could see the physical reality, or the humanity, of Jesus. They knew that Jesus was the son of Joseph and of Mary. However, they were spiritually blind. Despite the wonders and the signs that Jesus worked, they saw not the divinity of Jesus, the true bread that came down from heaven. Our culture today disbelieves the spiritual reality of the created world and idolizes the physical world. It is a culture that espouses that “science is everything,” “follow the science,” and “do whatever makes you happy,” yet the culture fails to recognize that the created world is more than just the physical and the pleasurable. That is not to say that the Church is anti-science. The Church promotes and espouses the arts and the sciences. Science leads us to a deeper understanding of the created world and thus of our Creator. Science serves to deepen our knowledge of God. The culture says that it is unreasonable to believe in God, but I say that is unreasonable to not believe in God and the spiritual reality of Creation.

Then, Jesus sternly answers the murmurs of the crowd. There is a lot here, most of which I will leave for your spiritual meditation. In each of our lives, God always makes the first move. When we pray, it is because He first drew us to pray. When we give charitably, it is because He first gave us the grace to do so. Everyone is capable of being drawn by the Father, but not everyone responds to that invitation. The early Church Fathers, who wrote commentaries on this passage, noted that the Arians, fourth-century heretics who denied the divinity of Christ (even after the Church declared otherwise), were not drawn by the Father. Because they denied a truth of the faith, they denied Truth Himself, who is Jesus Christ. Thus, they could not be drawn by the Father because the Father does not draw us partially. He draws us to Himself fully. Even people today who support and are gravely involved in any immorality or injustice condemned by the Church or hold opinions contrary to the teachings of the Church deny Truth and are thus not drawn by the Father. There is something that is lacking.

This is why we should pray, my brothers and sisters, that everyone may be drawn in by the Father, into the Catholic Church, which safeguards the fullness of Truth and Faith. There is always hope, for God is merciful and kind, as the Psalmist says. Repentance and conversion are always possible for us so long as there is life in us. This is the first way in which we are drawn by the Father. To repent of our sinful ways and to turn back toward Him. As St. Paul wrote to the Ephesians, we should remove all bitterness, fury, anger, shouting, reviling, and malice and replace it with kindness compassion, and forgiveness. We should imitate Christ. The ultimate imitation is sacrifice (even death on a cross). Then, we listen to Father, humbly being taught by God, and we will come to Jesus. Jesus is the bread of life, of life eternal. It is not by our bodies that we believe, but it is by our spirits that we choose to believe, through divine assistance. We who believe will be raised up on the last day and have eternal life.

How is it that we are intimately drawn into a spiritual union with Jesus? Foremost, it is via the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. The classic expression “You are what you eat” holds exceptionally true. Not only is there spiritual contact with Jesus, but we can also physically touch Jesus, for what was once ordinary bread becomes, by sacramental grace, the Real Presence, the Body of Christ. Jesus left us a Sacrament by which He is ever present on Earth. The Eucharist is the bread that comes down from heaven to lead us into heaven just as God came down from heaven and became Man. Whoever eats this bread will live forever, for this bread is the very flesh of Christ, Who is Life, and Jesus Who gives Life to the world. Brothers and sisters, let us pray that we may be drawn to Jesus today in this Blessed Sacrament, to believe more deeply in the Life of the world, and to delight in the heavenly things which are to come.

Beyond “Mercenary Love”

July 31, 2021

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Alongside other security personnel, the Holy Father and the Vatican City State are protected by one hundred and thirty-five men who have been called “the world’s smallest army.” Pilgrims and tourists to St. Peter’s Basilica may see them on duty wearing uniforms inspired by the Renaissance era – in garments comprised of yellow, blue, and red stripes and helmets topped with colored ostrich feathers. Yet these soldiers are not merely there for ceremonial decoration. Each of them takes a solemn vow to, if necessary, lay down their lives in defense of the pope. All of them are Roman Catholics, citizens of Switzerland, and have completed basic training with the Swiss Armed Forces. They are known as the Swiss Guard and have served the Holy Father semi-continuously for more than 500 years. But why Swiss guards, rather than Italian, Spanish, or French?

Before answering that, here is another small mystery of history. During the Revolutionary War, on the night of December 25th, 1776, General George Washington led his men in boats across the icy Delaware River to attack 1,500 enemy troops garrisoned in Trenton, New Jersey the next day. This daring tactic found their opponents unprepared. Our Continental Army suffered only two dead and five wounded in the mission but captured about nine hundred German soldiers. Yes that’s right, Germans. What were Germans doing in America during the Revolutionary War?

The reason why German soldiers fought for Great Britain in 1776 and why the pope began having Swiss guards in 1506 is that these troops were mercenaries, third-party soldiers-for-hire. In an era of conflict between Italian factions and his Papal States, the pope hired soldiers from friendly Switzerland five hundred miles away. It’s been the tradition to have Swiss guards ever since. And when the Revolutionary War broke out, the Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick II, saw an opportunity. He leased his German soldiers (nicknamed Hessians) to the British Empire to fight for them overseas.

Those serving in Swiss Guard today are remarkable and devout young men. And even if the pope were unable to continue paying their salaries I would not be surprised if almost all of them would faithfully complete their terms of service. The classic, mercenary soldier-for-hire, however, does not serve because he loves the king, country, or people he sides with, he does not risk his life because he believes in some just and noble purpose. The mercenary’s motivation is the money he is paid or promised. Deny him that payment and his loyalty and services will disappear with him. Similarly, the saints throughout the centuries have observed that many Christians have a “mercenary love” for God. That is, they love the Lord when times are easy, so as long as he “pays” them with many graces, consolations, and good things. But when those sensible blessings dry up, their loyal service and devotion disappear. Though God’s love does not depart from them, but they abandon him.

The Hebrews in the desert had witnessed God’s care for them. They saw the mighty deeds he wrought in the Exodus. But when they became hungry, the whole Israelite community grumbled. “Would that we had died at the Lord’s hand in the land of Egypt, as we sat by our fleshpots and ate our fill of bread! But you had to lead us into this desert to make the whole community die of famine!” God knew they needed food, he fully intended to meet their need, but he wanted them to trust in him and rely on him as a good Father. The Lord Jesus likewise desires a closer personal relationship with each one of us.

In today’s gospel, Jesus calls out the crowds at Capernaum on their mercenary motives. They love the gifts, but not yet the Giver. “Amen, amen,” he says to them, “you are looking for me not because you saw signs but because you ate the loaves and were filled. …Believe in [me,] the one [the Father] sent.” Jesus calls them higher, to a devoted love for himself, “Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. … I am the bread of life.” When we look at ourselves, what is the quality of our love for God?

St. Basil the Great wrote in the fourth century: “If we turn away from evil out of fear of punishment, we are in the position of slaves. If we pursue the enticement of wages, …we resemble mercenaries. Finally, if we obey for the sake of the good itself and out of love for him who commands… we are in the position of [devoted] children.” The Doctor of the Church, St. Bernard Clairvaux observed in the twelfth century: “Whosoever praises God for his essential goodness, and not merely because of the benefits he has bestowed, does really love God for God’s sake, and not selfishly.” So how can we develop a more perfect love for God, and how can we be more faithful when our next dry time of trial comes?

One way to a purer, more personal love for God is to realize that when you come to the sacraments, Jesus Christ meets you there. The Eucharistic Host you receive is him. It is he who forgives your sins through the priest in Confession. And when you receive the Anointing of the Sick, Jesus is uniting your suffering to his and his strength to your weakness. So do not avoid encountering him and do not meet him on autopilot. Recognize whom you are approaching, appreciate the Gift and appreciate the Giver, and your relationship with Jesus will grow.

This personal relationship with the Lord is also cultivated through daily prayer. Memorized prayers can be very good. Our Fathers, Hail Marys, litanies, and chaplets are great. But they can also become routine and impersonal, like chores. Regularly speak to our heavenly friends in your own words as well. When you boil it down, there are basically four things we can say whenever we pray: “I’m sorry, please, I love you, and thank you.” That is, there are prayers of Sorrow, Asking, Loving, and Thanking. (That’s S-A-L-T or SALT.) Many people spend their prayer times focused on the first two: Sorrow and Asking: “I’m sorry, Lord, please forgive me. Please Lord, grant this good thing for me and for them.” Jesus wants to pray for such things, but be mindful that your prayers are properly seasoned with expressions of Loving and Thanking as well. “I love you, Lord, and I praise you. You are holy and worthy and good. I thank you for your blessings all around me.” Focus more on rejoicing in who he is and what he’s done, not just on the things you want, and your love for him will deepen.

And when you find yourself in your next dry desert, tried and hungering like the Hebrews, or fighting on your next battlefield, serving without appearing payment, do not spurn or abandon the Lord. Go to him with your needs, recognizing how much you need him. Realize that even when the pleasant, warm fuzzies of consolation are withdrawn for a time, the Lord’s love for you remains and he offers you his sufficient grace to keep going in his will. And be patient knowing, that sooner or later, felt consolations and peace will return. With a more personal, more pure, and more perfect love for God, you can persevere as far more than a slave or mercenary, but as a devoted child of the Father and a true friend of Christ, as you are meant to be.

Reflecting Christ — Funeral Homily for Edward “Ed” Boehm, 96

July 23, 2021

Edward BoehmHe is known and loved by many. A man others are drawn to because they feel welcome and loved around him. He is wise and witty, joyful and just, honest and unpretentious; a strong, steady, peaceful presence. A great storyteller and a great listener. A hardworking craftsman who both builds and repairs. He’s faithful and devout, hating no one, a lover of God’s word and a believer in the Resurrection. He is the reason that we are all gathered here today. The man I speak of is Jesus Christ.

One of the things I love most about “The Chosen,” an excellent mini-series (now through its second season) about Christ and his disciples, is its wonderful depiction of Jesus. What sort of person’s three-year public ministry could so transform the world ever after? What kind of person would people leave everything behind to follow? Someone engaging and winsome, who can see into your soul and still loves you. “The Chosen” is currently free to watch online, and I urge you see it because it is truly well done, but you can always read the books that the series is based on instead and encounter Jesus Christ in the four Gospels.

Regardless, it is essential that each of us get to know and love him. As Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI once observed, “Being Christian is not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but the encounter with an event, a person, which gives life a new horizon and a decisive direction.” As Jesus says in St. John’s Gospel today, this is the will of God the Father: that everyone who sees God the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and be raised up on the last day.

Even though my opening description lists praiseworthy traits of Jesus Christ also found in Edward Boehm, those who know and love him and report such things about him acknowledge that Ed was not perfect. (This, by the way, is why the Church offers prayers for the dead, to help those who die as friends of God be sanctified through and through, to be completely healed and purged of any obvious or hidden flaw, since Revelation teaches us nothing impure can enter the heavenly Jerusalem, the holy city, where God’s unveiled glory dwells.) Ed was not perfect, but where did his Christ-like traits come from? Our world is not perfect, but where does its beauty come from? These things come from Jesus Christ, through whom all things were made, through whom all good things come.

We are finite creatures who desire the infinite. This longing for ever greater and unending goodness, beauty, truth, life, happiness, and love is to be fulfilled in God who, though we are dust, has placed these longings within us from the beginning. Though many do not realize it, our ultimate longing is for communion with God himself. There is a God-shaped hole in every human heart. And we meet the divine in human form in the person of Jesus Christ. Realize that the goodness you love in Edward Boehm reflects something of God’s goodness. Jesus Christ is the one on whom rests all our joyful hope, for Ed and for ourselves. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.

Hidden Wealth — Wake Service Homily for Leonard Stewart, 80

July 17, 2021

Leonard Eugene StewartToday St. Paul’s Parish is pleased to open our church and offer our prayers at this wake service for Len, whom you know and love so well. No brief homily can capture the fullness of someone’s life. But I believe that aspects of a Christian’s life will contain images of Christian mysteries. Jesus preached about the Kingdom of God using images like captured fish, sprouting seeds, precious pearls, and other things as illustrations. Similarly, a particular part I learned about Len’s life—though surely not the most important aspect of his life—especially strikes me as an icon of important Christian truths.

After Len and Carolyn moved to Eau Claire to build their home and raise their children there, Len began a coin game machine business. He bought gaming machines and would service them for customers on his route. Len reasoned, “People will always have quarters.” But eventually, in 2008, Len started a similar but greater line of work. Len began managing ATM (automatic teller) machines. He was still working around many of his previous customers. Not being showy, he continued dressing like them, unassumingly; with frayed hems, holes at his knees, and a ratty hat atop his head. But now, instead of lugging heavy heaps of quarters, Len might be transporting many thousands of dollars. He was adept at hiding this great wealth. Len’s family tells me, “He could carry $30,000 and you’d never know it.” He looked like everybody else so people didn’t notice that he carried a treasure with him. As I said, this strikes me as an icon of important Christian truths.

Men and women are born into this world with heaps of blessings, many tokens of God’s goodness. But the Christian experiences a greater, richer life. The Christian might keep the same company as others; their dress and appearance might be unremarkable; but they carry with them a hidden wealth. “See what love the Father has bestowed on us,” St. John exclaims, “that we may be called the children of God. Yet so we are! …Beloved, we are God’s children now.” The world might not notice the great treasure concealed in us, but this figures; they didn’t notice the greatness of Jesus the Son of God, either.

Though, as the psalm says, “man’s days are like those of grass; like a flower of the field he blooms; the wind sweeps over him and he is gone, and his place knows him no more,” Jesus reassures us in the face of death. He tells us, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me.” Jesus has died and has gloriously risen, and he promises the same for us, his brothers and sisters, his friends. Jesus tells us, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places….I am going to prepare a place for you… and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.” So, though it is natural to feel sadness on such a day as this, with the sadness we possess a joyful expectation, for Len and for ourselves: Jesus will always have quarters for us.

The Fear of Inadequacies

July 12, 2021

15th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Deacon Dick Kostner

Jesus at Prayer, Overlooking the Sea of GalileeOn my last homily I talked about the fact that faith can produce miracles. Today’s scripture readings helps us to understand how we acquire that gift of faith and participate in God’s divine partnership plan.

When I was studying for my Masters Degree in Pastoral Studies one of the revelations that God shared with me and that stood out in my mind was the fact that although God has no need to ask for help from anyone, that contrary to that he desires humans to participate in advancing and growing the body of Christ through human involvement in preaching and practicing the gospel message of love and service to others. The gift he bestows on those he asks for help from, and who accept his requests, is peace and happiness not only in this life but also the gift of the key to everlasting life in heaven.

For humans this presents us with obstacles in accepting those requests God asks from us, the greatest of which is our fear of inadequacy. Let me give you an example of this. When I began ministry studies one of my greatest fears was facing death or witnessing death. When I first got out of law school one of the first things I did was draft a will for myself and I placed a directive in it that I wished no funeral and requested that I be buried within twenty-four hours of my death. My thoughts were that this would make it easier for my family and friends to move on with their lives.

This fear stayed with me until I became a deacon and one day when our priest was on vacation, I received a call late one evening from our hospital. A car accident had happened and the family of the victim was trying to find a priest to administer the Sacrament of Healing for this young man. I advised the nurse that Father was gone out of town. She asked if I could come and be with the family. Fear hit me, and I told the nurse that I could not administer the Sacrament as deacons cannot do this. She then asked if I would come and maybe say some prayers with the family. My thoughts were that I was not adequate for the job and I did not feel I could do anything that would be beneficial for the family or their loved one. Then I remembered that part of my training for deacon ministry was to walk with someone and minister to someone who was dying. Fr. Frank, my director had assigned me to a elderly gentleman in Eau Claire who was terminally ill. I would meet with him on a weekly basis, at his home, and I would take Communion to him and his wife while spending time with him. I remember how after he died his wife called me and asked if I would do the Wake Service for him as he so much appreciated the times we got together while he was dying. I remembered how good this made me feel to know that they appreciated my company even though I felt inadequate for the mission Fr. Frank had assigned to me.

I decided to go and pray with that family at the hospital, and after doing so the family said they so much appreciated that I was willing to come and be with them during their suffering I finally realized that all that one needs to do is to show up and be there for those suffering and fearing death as the representative body of Christ. Jesus and the Holy Spirit do the rest. God knows that this is difficult for us but he always rewards those who say “Yes” to his call for help.

Our Gospel this weekend has Jesus telling his friends that its time for them to stand up and accept the job of helping others overcome their fears through their presence and healing. Jesus knows they don’t feel adequate for the job and so he sends them out in two’s knowing that this will help them feel more comfortable and capable of accepting their ministry mission. He tells them to not prepare and to take nothing with them as he promises to provide all the help that they will need to be successful.

Our parish at St. Paul’s is having a meeting this coming Monday to request help for our Fall Festival. This event provides not only financial support for the Parish but also allows its members to participate and say “Yes” to God’s requests for help. This will give evidence that Jesus is with us in helping not only others but ourselves to overcome our feelings of inadequacies. Like Jesus, the Parish is going to ask groups to come together as a unit to accomplish fellowship and support within our Parish Family Ministry. To the St. Paul’s committee people please plan on attending the meeting and by saying you will help build and exercise the Body of Christ in our community. St. John’s people encourage others to join you in planning your Parish activities to help reduce the fear we all have of being inadequate for the ministries asked of us by Jesus.

Remember the words of Jesus in today’s Gospel: “Take nothing for the journey but a walking stick—no food, no sack, no money.” Remember that God will provide you with everything necessary for his mission requests.

Lessons From The Gulag Archipelago

July 3, 2021

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn was a captain in the Red Army of the Soviet Union serving bravely on the front lines against the Germans in 1945. Three months before World War II’s end in Europe, his brigade commander summoned him to headquarters and asked for his pistol. When Solzhenitsyn handed it over two counterintelligence officers suddenly crossed the room. They ripped off the insignia from his uniform and shouted: “You are under arrest!” “Me? What for?” The pair gave him no answer. But as Solzhenitsyn was being hauled to the exit, the brigade commander firmly addressed him: “Solzhenitsyn. Come back here.” With a sharp turn he broke loose and stepped back to his superior.

Solzhenitsyn had never known his commanding officer very well. This colonel had never condescended to run-of-the-mill conversations with him, but now his ever-stern face displayed thoughtfulness. “You have…” the colonel asked weightily, “a friend on the First Ukrainian Front?” Solzhenitsyn understood instantly: he was being arrested for criticizing Joseph Stalin in private letters to a school friend. Over the decades, many millions would suffer in the soviet prison camps (known as gulags) for offenses as small as this or less.

Travkin Zakhar Grigorevich

The counterintelligence officers objected. They shouted at the colonel for his revelation to the prisoner: “It’s forbidden! You have no right!” The colonel could get himself arrested, too. As Solzhenitsyn recalls in his own words, his colonel, “Zakhar Georgiyevich Travkin could have stopped right there! But no! Continuing his attempt to expunge his part in this and to stand erect before his own conscience, he rose from behind his desk — he had never stood up in my presence in my former life — and reached across the quarantine line that separated us and gave me his hand, although he would never have reached out his hand to me had I remained a free man. And pressing my hand… showing that warmth that may appear in an habitually severe face, he said fearlessly and precisely: ‘I wish you happiness. Captain!’ Not only was I no longer a captain, but I had been exposed as an enemy of the people… And he had wished [me] happiness…” Despite the danger to himself, the colonel did what little he could to bless and console a persecuted man – and Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn never forgot this.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn in 1974Solzhenitsyn would go on to survive almost eight years inside prisons and forced labor camps. After his release, he became a world famous author, winning the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1970. But the publication of his most important work, The Gulag Archipelago in 1973, outraged the soviet authorities. They stripped him of his citizenship and expelled him from the USSR – they rejected him in his native place. Two Christmases ago, St. John the Baptist’s Altar Rosary Society gifted to me a subscription to Audible. A week and a half ago, I activated it and this non-fiction book, The Gulag Archipelago, is the first thing I’m listening to. It draws on interviews, documents, diaries, and Solzhenitsyn’s own experiences as a prisoner to detail the history and the horrors of soviet gulags from 1918 to 1956.

The dictator Joseph Stalin suspected and feared he had enemies everywhere, so he would hand down orders for entire groups to be arrested (“Arrest all the generals in the Red Army”) and he ordered large numbers of political arrests to be made (“Arrest 200 people in this city for political crimes by month’s end”). To fill their quotas, the police would arrest innocent people, employ terrible tortures to extract confessions, and then ship these condemned persons off to camps, often to die there from a bullet or from the inhuman conditions.

Getting confessions was very important for the corrupt and cynical interrogators. Caring nothing whether the accused were actually criminal conspirators, they inflicted intense physical and psychological sufferings to make them admit guilt and implicate others. These police were not afraid to lie, and any court trials there were were just for show. In that case, instead of breaking their victims, why didn’t the interrogators just forge signatures onto confessions? I suspect this was due to demonic influence. Demons delight to see the wicked do evil, but they are pleased still more by seeing the good fall, to see them sin by betraying the truth and betraying those they love. Solzhenitsyn urges us to have mercy on those who people fell: “Brother mine! Do not condemn those who, finding themselves in such a situation, turned out to be weak and confessed to more than they should have. … Do not be the first to cast a stone at them.

Vera Korneyeva as a young womanSome prisoners did not lie or betray anyone, but even took the opportunity to proclaim the truth. Solzhenitsyn tells the story of one Vera Korneyeva who was arrested with all seventeen members of a Christian group. Her interrogator had left her alone in a large office of the police building where half a dozen employees were sitting. A conversation started and Vera launched into a sermon. In freedom, she had been no more than a lathe operator, a stable girl, and a housewife. But the typists, stenographers, and file clerks of the secret police listened, sometimes asking her questions. People came in from other offices and the room filled up. She spoke mostly about religious faith and religious believers, and asked why anyone would need to persecute Christians.

Believers don’t need to be watched,” she said, “they do not steal, and they do not shirk [their duties]. Do you think you can build a just society on a foundation of self-serving and envious people? Everything in the country is falling apart. Why do you spit in the hearts of your best? … Why arrest [religious] people?” At that point, her interrogator reentered and started to rudely interrupt her. But everyone shouted at him: “Oh, shut up! Keep quiet! Go ahead, woman, talk.” Solzhenitsyn notes they were forbidden to call her comrade or citizen, but they referred to Vera with the honorable title Christ used: “woman,” and she continued in the presence of her interrogator. So there in an office of the police headquarters they listened to Vera Korneyeva — and why did the words of an insignificant prisoner touch them so? Like Ezekiel, a prophet had been among them.

Soviet prisons and gulags were hellish places, but like Mount Calvary, the Lord was present even there. Nikolai Aleksandrovich Kozyrev, whose brilliant career in astronomy was interrupted by his arrest, sustained himself in prison by doing theoretical work in his mind. His line of mental exploration, however, was blocked by forgotten figures. He could not build any further — he needed the data to develop his theory, but how could he obtain this from his solitary-confinement cell? The scientist prayed: “Please, God! I have done everything I could. Please help me! Please help me continue!” His eyes were fixed on the Lord, pleading for his mercy.

At that time, he was entitled to receive one book every ten days. Half an hour after his prayer, they came to exchange his book. As usual, without asking anything at all, they pushed a book at him. It was entitled A Course in Astrophysics! What was a book like this doing in a prison library? Kozyrev threw himself into it and began memorizing everything he needed and everything he might need later on. After two days, the prison chief made a surprise inspection of his cell and immediately noticed the book. “But you are an astronomer?” “Yes,” he answered. “Take this book away from him!” Yet its providential arrival had opened the way for the scientist’s further work, helping his mind and spirit survive his ten years of detention. Following his release, Dr. Kozyrev would go on to be the discoverer, through telescopic observations, of tectonic activity on the Moon. In other words, he discovered that there is hot magma inside of the Moon. Like Jesus Christ, the Moon is not long-dead (as many have thought) but is dynamically alive today.

Nikolai Aleksandrovich Kozyrev in 1958

Solzhenitsyn observed in 1983, “There always is this fallacious belief [around the world about great atrocities]: ‘It would not be the same here; here such things are impossible.’ Alas, all the evil of the twentieth century is possible everywhere on earth.” Will this church one day be torched by arsonists, as Catholic churches are now being burned down in Canada? Could we one day be fired, beaten, or arrested, be separated from our families, be deprived of our material possessions, or die because of our faith? Jesus Christ was perfect and sinless, “and they took offense at him.” He was hated, denounced, tortured, and murdered. If they persecuted him, why wouldn’t the world persecute us? I do not know how severe the persecution of Christians will become in our lifetimes, but I see no reason not to prepare our souls for this eventuality.

If we are to be like Jesus, even up to the point of dying like Christ rather than denying him (and indeed we are each called to be willing to do this) then we must begin practicing with the little things. Jesus says, “Whoever is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones; and whoever who is dishonest in very small matters is also dishonest in great ones.” So we must never lie. Make no false professions or false confessions. As Jesus teaches us, “Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’ Anything more is from the evil one.”

In addition to never telling falsehoods, we are called to speak the truth, like the woman Vera in the heart of the police organization. Are you afraid of what other people will think? Realize that they are concerned about what you think, too. If you are open, the Holy Spirit will give you opportunities to share the truth with others. Like Colonel Travkin with his accused Captain Solzhenitsyn, we must also be courageous enough to remain loyal to our peers when others would denounce and abandon them. And we must pray and rely on God, like Dr. Kozyrev (who was seemingly, but not truly) alone in his prison cell. Remember that Christ’s grace is sufficient for you, and his power is made perfect in weakness.

Practice these four things: never lie, share the truth, be loyal, and rely on Christ. Even if, in God’s Providence, you never come to suffer like Christ’s martyrs, by practicing these things you will become more like our Lord Jesus Christ.

Lovingly Received — Funeral Homily for Allen Pietz, 62

June 22, 2021

Allen is a dear acquaintance of mine. Unlike many of the persons I offer funerals for, I know him really well. But today I’m going to begin by telling you about another warm acquaintance of mine and the story he once told me. I went to seminary with a fellow who is now a diocesan priest in South Carolina named Fr. Andrew Trapp. Fr. Andrew looks a lot like the actor Tobey Maguire (who starred in the Spider-Man movie franchise) and Andrew also has a Peter-Parker-like friendly goodness. Fr. Andrew got a little famous back around 2010 when he beat the champion poker player Daniel Negreanu on a TV game show. He won $100,000 and donated his whole prize (after taxes) to his parish’s renovation project. Before he was ordained, Andrew spent a summer in Paris, France improving his French and helping out at a Catholic church.

There he met a former satanic worshipper who had repented, reconciled to God, and became a member of that parish. Andrew knew that Satanists were known to steal the Holy Eucharist, the Body of Christ, for use and abuse in their rituals. (I’ve heard elsewhere that Satanists are interested in stealing only the Catholic Church’s Communion Hosts to perform Black Masses and other sacrileges.) Andrew asked the man whether it was true that Satanists test their followers using these stolen Hosts, placing a Consecrated Host in a line-up of identical, unconsecrated wafers to see if the person could identify which one it is. The man responded that he had undergone this test and successfully passed it. Andrew asked him, “How did you know which host was the Lord?” And the man replied, “It was the one that I felt hatred towards.”

No brief funeral homily can tell the whole story of a person’s life, but sometimes a particular aspect of a Christian’s life can proclaim the most important things. Allen did not grow up Catholic. He started attending Mass at St. Paul’s in the front row with Sylvia. And it was here that he fell in love with the Holy Eucharist. Sylvia remembers Allen pointing to the altar and saying, “I want that Bread.” This desire was the main reason Allen became Catholic, got Confirmed, and received his First Holy Communion here in 2020, exactly a year and one week before his death. Allen was always eager to receive the Holy Eucharist on Sundays. And whenever he couldn’t come, he missed it profoundly. Sometimes he could barely walk and he still came to Mass. What fueled this intense longing and devotion in Allen? It was the love he felt for Jesus in the Eucharist.

It was Jesus, who said, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my Flesh for the life of the world.” When those in the crowd murmured at this, objecting, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” Jesus answered, “Amen, amen, I say to you… [M]y Flesh is true food, and my Blood is true drink. Whoever eats my Flesh and drinks my Blood remains in me and I in him.” Jesus says, “Whoever eats my Flesh and drinks my Blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.”

In truth, Allen’s great love for Jesus in the Eucharist was only a weak reflection of Jesus’ love for Allen. And what will separate friends of Jesus Christ from the love of Christ? Neither death nor life, neither present things nor future things, neither height nor depth, neither angels nor powers, nor any other created thing will be able to separate them from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. It is right that we pray today for the perfection and glory of our friend Allen’s soul, but we do so with great peace and confidence that Allen, who was so eager to receive our Lord in the Eucharist, will himself be eagerly received by our loving Lord.

Allen Pietz after his 1st Communion

Allen Pietz on the day of his First Communion, June 7, 2020