Archive for the ‘Christian Perfection’ Category

Strong Reactions — 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year A

March 3, 2020

My childhood memories of summer include the Osseo City Pool. I remember having fun in the water with friends, the 80’s songs playing from the lifeguards’ boombox, and the big brown door with red letters, warning something like: “Danger, Deadly Chlorine Gas, Staff Only!” As you might imagine, I never ventured into that room. Another memorable experience from my youth involving chemicals happened some years later. My science teacher, Mr. Hall, placed a bucket of water into the snow outside of our high school. Then, using tongs, he carefully dropped into it a chunk of pure sodium, and quickly backed away. The water steamed and bubbled and exploded a couple of times. It was intimidating and awesome. Two potent chemicals: chlorine and sodium. What happens when you combine them? You get sodium chloride. Today, this compound is present in the environment and inside of our homes. It’s in the oceans, on our streets, and even in the food we eat. Sodium Chloride may sound dangerous, but you know this common compound by another name: it’s salt.

Sodium Chloride (a.k.a. Salt)

Salt preserves, salt disinfects, and salt also adds flavor. Salt can preserve food from spoiling. In the days of sailing ships, unrefridgerated salted-pork could safely feed a crew for three months at sea. Salt has been used as a disinfectant and cleaning product since ancient times. The Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans employed salt water to treat cuts, wounds, and mouth sores. Even in 2010, a study from the Mayo Clinic found that gargling warm salt water reduces cold symptoms, including sore throat pain and mucus. And you know firsthand from a lifetime of eating that the addition of salt can make an otherwise bland dish taste much better.

Today, Jesus tells his disciples: “You are the salt of the earth.” Like salt, Christianity is found all over the world, preserving its good, purifying its evil, and adding flavor to what would otherwise be bland, meaningless life. And yet, like Sodium Chloride, Christianity is irrationally feared. This is nothing new. Listen to this second century Letter to Diognetus describing how Christians are present throughout the world, both helpful and good, and yet feared and opposed:

“Christians are indistinguishable from other men either by nationality, language or customs. They do not inhabit separate cities of their own, or speak a strange dialect, or follow some outlandish way of life. … With regard to dress, food and manner of life in general, they follow the customs of whatever city they happen to be living in, whether it is Greek or foreign. And yet there is something extraordinary about their lives. They live in their own countries as though they were only passing through. They play their full role as citizens, but labor under all the disabilities of aliens. Any country can be their homeland, but for them their homeland, wherever it may be, is a foreign country. Like others, they marry and have children, but they do not expose [their children to death]. They share their meals, but not their wives. They live in the flesh, but they are not governed by the desires of the flesh.”

“They pass their days upon earth, but they are citizens of Heaven. Obedient to the laws, they yet live on a level that transcends the law. Christians love all men, but all men persecute them. Condemned because they are not understood, they are put to death, but raised to life again. They live in poverty, but enrich many; they are totally destitute, but possess an abundance of everything. They suffer dishonor, but that is their glory. They are defamed, but vindicated. A blessing is their answer to abuse, deference their response to insult. For the good they do they receive the punishment of malefactors, but even then they rejoice, as though receiving the gift of life. They are attacked by the Jews as aliens, they are persecuted by the Greeks, yet no one can explain the reason for this hatred.”

Why does the world oppose devout Christianity? One reason is they imagine believing Christians behave like sodium in water, boiling hot with hatred and intolerance and violent in their reactions. Yet Christians’ allegiance to Jesus and his teachings on mercy, love, and the value of every human person are the best antidotes to mankind’s natural hatred and indifference toward others. Who is more responsible for sharing bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless, and clothing the naked in world history than Christians in general and the Catholic Church in particular?

Another reason why worldly people oppose Christianity is that they think our faith is lethal to life’s pleasures; they fear that embracing Christianity would asphyxiate their happiness, like breathing chlorine gas. This too is nothing new. In Roman times, Christians were charged with “hatred of humanity” because the Romans believed ‘a lover of man should love what men love.’ The Early Christians would not partake of common sins for passing pleasures while, at the same time, living joyful lives. Joyful even at their martyrdom. As Diognetus’ pen-pal observed in the second century: “The world hates the Christians, not because they have done it any wrong, but because [Christians] are opposed to its enjoyments.” And so it is today. When we tell the world some things it loves are false roads to happiness the world hates us for it.

Jesus said, “If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. … In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world.” So what are we to do? First, realize that the modern animosity to Christianity is nothing new. Don’t wait for that cultural hostility to pass; it won’t pass in our lifetimes. Next, never accept or act like your faith is a shameful thing. Jesus declares: “You are the light of the world. Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.” If you are a Christian, Jesus wants the people around you to see something different in you and wonder, “What’s your secret.” Be unafraid to tell them the truth, “It’s my personal relationship to Jesus Christ and his Holy Church.” Cooperating with Christ to live like this saves souls and transforms our world.

There is another, more literal translation of Jesus’ words in our gospel: “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world”: “You are the salt of the ground… You are the light of the cosmos.” Through your life, and every Christian life however humble, Jesus would reveal his divine light to the world, the glory and love that sustain the cosmos.

Shepherds & Fishermen — 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year A

March 3, 2020

What did the twelve apostles do for a living before Jesus called them to follow him? For six of the first apostles, that is half of the original twelve, we have no words from Scripture concerning their previous jobs. We are told that St. Matthew was a tax collector for the Roman government. We also hear of St. Simon the Zealot, who was either especially zealous in his personal religious devotion, or had ties to the Jewish Zealot movement is Israel. The Zealot movement sought, through politics and insurrection, to overthrow the Roman government in the Promised Land. If Matthew and Simon did indeed come from opposite sides of that era’s political spectrum, it suggests that every political party or faction has important things to learn from Jesus Christ.

In today’s Gospel, we learn the shared profession of four other apostles: Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John; they were commercial fishermen. Now the Lord choosing men from the fishing industry was something new in salvation history. In the Old Testament, God often employs shepherds in his holy service. Among the patriarchs there is Abraham, Jacob-Israel, and his twelve sons – shepherds all. Later there’s the prophet Moses, King David, and Amos the prophet, each of whom tended flocks for some time before receiving their higher calling from God. As far as I can tell, there are no fishermen of particular note in the Bible before these four to whom Jesus says, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Jesus, in calling fishermen, is doing something new. Now if the fishing background of these four apostles were irrelevant, I doubt the Holy Spirit would have inspired the inclusion of this fact into the Gospels. So what is the significance of this detail?

The work of a shepherd is different from that of fisherman. A shepherd tends his flock. He knows his sheep and his sheep know him. Some new lambs are born while other, older sheep go off to market or return to the earth, but the size of the sheepfold tends to remain rather stable. A fisherman, on the other hand, through his practiced skills and God’s providence, seeks and finds new fish every day. The fish are living in their own dark, watery world until the fisherman gathers them to himself. A shepherd maintains his numbers, but a fisherman goes out to seek more and more. Jesus chose his apostles not only to shepherd his people Israel, but to go forth to fish for people from all nations. Jesus made Peter not only a “fisher of men” but commanded him to ‘”feed my lambs… tend my sheep… feed my sheep.

Today we primarily think of water as a symbol of life, because nothing lives without water. Yet in the ancient world, water was often seen as a symbol of death. It’s possible even on a calm day to drown in a river, lake, or sea, but the volatile, deadly nature of large bodies of water is the subject of stories, poems, and songs even up to our day. For example:

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitche Gumee
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early

Fish live with this realm of death, a dark, watery world. The fisherman brings fish into the light, to a higher realm, a world they had previously ignored or never imagined. In our semi-post-Christian world today, is Jesus calling you and I to be shepherds or fishermen? Are we meant to maintain our flock, or to endeavor for more unnetted souls? There is need for both missions. In fact, we are called to do both. Many around us are baptized and still identify as Christians, yet how deep does their faithful devotion really go? Peter and Andrew left their careers for Jesus. James and John left their family for Jesus. Yet how few people today even come to church for him. True devotion and divine relationship is ignored or never imagined. Jesus calls you to be a missionary; not on the far side of the earth so much as in our own community. Be able to give witness to him. When I was a kid, when we were driving home from Sunday Mass, my family would often talk about what we heard in the homily. Today you your drive home from church I encourage you to ask each other: Why did you come to church today? What difference does it make for your life? We need to practice sharing why our faith is a gift with one another so that we can invite others to share this treasure.

In our first reading from St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, we learn that the Christians in Corinth were choosing favorites and forming factions: ‘I belong to Paul. I belong to Apollos. I belong to Cephas.‘ St. Paul writes to remind them, you belong to Christ! Do not allow another person to get in way of Jesus for you. Pastors are important and Jesus has ordained it so, since without clear leadership how could St. Paul’s prayer and Christ’s desire, ‘that all of us agree in what we say, that there be no divisions among us, that we be united in the same mind and in the same purpose‘ ever be achieved? The need for human leadership of Jesus’ Church in this broken world, however, makes grave sin and scandal possible. This is a terrible thing, wherever and whenever it occurs. But please, please, do not separate from Peter on account of another apostle’s sin. You need Jesus, I need Jesus, and everyone else needs Jesus, too. Let us be good shepherds and fishers of men, caring for and seeking out everyone in our midst, as Jesus calls us to do.

His Cause for Joy — Funeral for Michael “Mike” Rufledt, 67

February 28, 2020

If you had the chance to visit Mike over these past months of his final illness, might have come expecting to see a man anguished and crushed in the face of impending death. You might expect to find a quiet, somber, sad, inconsolable house. But if you visited, you encountered a house of joy; tears—but tears of love; and a joyful man, full of peace. How is this possible? It is the Lord. God had prepared him, God strengthened him, and God accompanied him through it all. And this began long ago.

When Mike was 31 years old, his father Ted died, and this event hit Mike really hard. Mike struggled with heavy grief, a grief he could not let go of or move beyond. He confided his pain to his mother and she gave him wise advice: “Pray to the Holy Spirit, Mike.” He took her advice and prayed. And that night or the next, he had a remarkable dream. He saw his father, standing before him, glowing with light, and smiling a large smile. His father did not say any words in the vision, but his presence and appearance were the message. Despite death, Mike’s father lived on, departed but not gone, still very much alive in God. Mike said that he was fine after that, so happy for his father that he was never stressed about his dad’s death again.

When Mike was 37, his mother Toni also died. Sometimes death’s approach is foreseen and we have time to prepare for it, but her death was sudden and unexpected. Mike was the first into her hospital room after she passed. He mournfully asked, not expecting a response, “What happened, Mom?” and kissed her on the forehead. And then, Mike reports, “I could feel her presence in the room.” Her spirit, her soul, was in his midst. And he heard her say, “It’s OK.” As you can imagine, that was incredibly consoling for Mike. About that time, his sister Mary called him on the phone. She was understandably distressed, like he had been just moments before. He told her, “It’s OK. It’s OK.” She said, “It’s not OK!” But he repeated the same words, “It’s OK.” He was too embarrassed, until recently, to share the story of the source of and reason for his peace that day.

Last year, Mike was up at his hunting cabin when he got the call from his doctor. He called with a grim diagnosis: it was cancer, serious cancer; and most likely, in the not very distant future, it would kill him. Imagine how it would be to receive such a diagnosis yourself. Mike felt like you might imagine. As he drove back home to break the news to Patti, he prayed, “I really need you now, Lord. You’re going to have to help me with this one. Let’s make the best out of this that we can.” To either miraculous recovery or death, they would take this journey together. In that hour Mike was not giving up, but surrendering himself, entrusting himself, to the Lord Jesus. And by the time he arrived back home to the farm, Mike felt peace, an incredible peace that remained with him through the months, weeks, and days that followed. Mike said towards the end of his illness. “[The Lord] really took the reigns on this one. And he stepped up immediately. He’s always there, but he went overboard on this one. I couldn’t thank him enough. He’s there for us all the time, all we have to do is ask. This has been a wonderful journey.

This Wednesday, we were marked with ashes for the beginning of Lent, for we are dust and to dust we shall return. Today we come to a Good Friday; not because death is good—death is not good—but because it is a more than OK thing to die with Jesus Christ. His life, passion, death, and resurrection—it’s all real, it’s true, and Mike’s great wish, then and now, is that you will believe in it, too. Jesus has given us the signs we need, so repent and believe in the Gospel.

Be Well-Prepared for Disaster

February 20, 2020

On October 9th, 1859, the first Marian apparition in the United States (since approved by the Catholic Church as “worthy of belief – although not obligatory”) occurred near Green Bay, Wisconsin. Adele Brise, a 28-year-old Belgian immigrant, was walking eleven miles home from Sunday Mass when she saw a beautiful lady with long, wavy, golden hair wearing a crown of stars and clothed in a dazzling white dress with a yellow sash around her waist.

Adele fell to her knees and asked, “In God’s name, who are you and what do you want of me?” The Blessed Virgin Mary replied, “I am the Queen of Heaven, who prays for the conversion of sinners, and I wish you to do the same. You received Holy Communion this morning, and that is well. But you must do more. Make a general confession, and offer Communion for the conversion of sinners. If they do not convert and do penance, my Son will be obliged to punish them. … Gather the children in this wild country and teach them what they should know for salvation…

Adele was faithful to her mission, teaching the Catholic Faith to the young and praying for sinners’ souls. However, almost exactly twelve years to the day after Mary’s message, Eastern Wisconsin experienced the one of the largest and the most deadly forest fire in our nation’s history. Flames of the vast Pestigo Fire surrounded the shrine built upon the apparition site, but all who fled to this ground dedicated to Mary survived. Consider: is our present time and culture somehow less deserving of divine punishment than theirs?

Another disaster afflicted our land a century ago. From 1918 to 1920, a deadly flu plagued Europe and the U.S. but wartime censors suppressed news reports from many nations besides the World War One neutral country of Spain. The Spanish Flu, as it came to be called, would go on to kill an estimated 675,000 Americans and at least 50 million people worldwide. This largely-forgotten history has been on my mind as the Coronavirus pneumonia outbreak has spread forth from Wuhan, China. There are strong indications that the dictatorial Chinese government is under-reporting how many of their people are infected or have died from this highly-infectious disease, and new cases are being reported day-by-day around the world. Earlier this month, in a effort to contain the spread of the disease, the Hong Kong government asked its citizens to stay at home and the cardinal of their Catholic diocese has suspended public Masses. Could we experience a deadly pandemic here? The U.S. Centers for Disease Control saysthe potential public health threat posed by [Coronavirus] is high.” Therefore, it is wise to be prepared.

I urge prudent preparation on two fronts. First, materially speaking, if an emergency were declared and schools and businesses sent everyone home, could your family be able to shelter at your house away from others for two or three weeks until the crisis passed? What food and water would you have if your electric power went out? Building non-perishable food reserves is easy now while store shelves remain fully stocked. And if no disaster ever comes (as may well be the case) you can simply cycle through these pantry supplies over time; so nothing is lost. The second, more important front in your disaster preparedness is: are you spiritually ready?

If you knew this Lent might possibly be your last, how would that change your spiritual focus? What vices would you cut and which virtues would you grow? How would you commit to prayer and prepare your soul? For many, times of great crisis or the end of their lives arrive unexpectedly and people face them unprepared. As Jesus once observed, “In [the days of Noah] before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day that Noah entered the ark. They did not know until the flood came and carried them all away.” Mark’s Gospel recalls one occasion when the Pharisees came forward and began to argue with Jesus, seeking from him a sign from Heaven to test him. Jesus sighed from the depth of his spirit and said, “Why does this generation seek a sign?” The Pharisees had heard Jesus’ teachings and known his mighty works but they still obstinately refused to change. Why do we put off the Lord, refusing to listen and respond, postponing our conversion until it might be too late?

Once, after a tower collapse in Jerusalem ended eighteen lives, Jesus asked, “Do you think they were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” Will the Coronavirus become a devastating American disaster like the Pestigo Fire or the Spanish Flu? Hopefully not. I pray to God it will not be so and ask that you do the same. Yet even if this crisis never comes to your community, why not prepare? Stocking-up your pantry, regularly washing your hands, instilling our Faith into your children, and deepening your own relationship with Jesus Christ are wise decisions you won’t regret.

Sports Isn’t Everything

January 17, 2020

Human beings love sports. We also love to win. When we watch a team or athlete we identify with compete and prevail, we vicariously share in their victory. And this human trait is nothing new. The ancient Greeks celebrated their Olympians. The Romans had their famous gladiators and charioteers. In our day, almost one hundred million people watched the Super Bowl last year and more than one billion people around the world tune in to see the World Cup Final. Ironically, most Americans care very little about soccer—the most popular sport on earth, while most of the world has no interest in American football games. Sports, teams, and players, extremely important to some, can be completely disregarded by others.

Vince Lombardi was not the first coach to say it, but he did proclaim this maxim often: “Winning isn’t everything… it’s the only thing.” In his nine seasons coaching the Green Bay Packers, his teams won almost three out of every four games they played, including five NFL championships and two Super Bowls. And yet winning was not really the most important thing to Coach Lombardi. As sportswriter Jerry Izenberg recalls, “He told me one day, ‘I wish to h*** I’d never said that. (I.e., ‘Winning isn’t everything… it’s the only thing.’)” The sportswriter asked, “Well, don’t you believe it?” And Lombardi replied, “What I believe is, if you go out on a football field on Sunday, or any other endeavor in life, and you leave every fiber of what you have on that field when the game finally ends, then you’ve won. And to me that tells a lot more than the final score. And I never made that clear.’” However, I think his players had understood him, despite his imperfect and repeated maxim.

Former Packers reporter Ken Hartnett said of Vince Lombardi, “He was the first coach that I ever heard refer to love in the locker room. He really believed that there was a Christian love that he could incorporate into the team, the love that binds his players together, the love that comes out of sacrifice.” This flowed from Coach Lombardi’s faith. He was Catholic, attended the Sacrifice of the Mass every day, and was an adult altar server, too. “As far as myself is concerned,” he said, “I know my future happiness is, has to be, some other place. I want to try to do the things as well as I can here in order to attain someday maybe a greater happiness.” When Lombardi was dying from aggressive colon cancer fifty years ago this year, his past and present players came to his bedside out of grateful love for him. At his funeral Mass in St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City, Cardinal Terence Cooke preached, “Vince Lombardi fought the good fight. We believe in that last struggle with death this man won the final victory.

Unless it happens to be our own team, we rarely remember who won or lost state or national championships and titles, even just a few years afterward. Yet how many fans and parents forsake great amounts of time and money, their pleasant mood, or the Sunday worship our God is due on account of such games? There is a proper delight to found in sports, and virtues to be cultivated in their play, yet sports are not everything, nor the most important thing. In the words of St. Paul to the Colossians, “Whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

The Holy Stream — Baptism of the Lord—Year A

January 13, 2020

When you think of the River Jordan, maybe you imagine something broad, vast, and impressive, like the mighty Mississippi or even the Chippewa River. But the Jordan River is a lot more like Duncan Creek. Ever heard of Duncan Creek? It’s not far from here. Duncan Creek flows out of the south end of Lake Como in Bloomer. You know the bridge between Dairy Queen and the post office? That bridge crosses over Duncan Creek. In terms of size and color, the Jordan River is much like Duncan Creek; small and muddy with shrubs and trees growing along its banks. But unlike the rivers around here in Wisconsin, which are numerous and flow though green and lush countryside, the Jordan is among the few rivers passing through its region’s mostly arid lands. This is the body of water Jesus chose to be baptized in. A humble river of life flowing through a desert. Joshua led God’s Old Covenant people into the earthly Promised Land through this river. And Jesus, the new Joshua, leads God’s New Covenant people to the true Promised Land through holy baptism.

Jesus did not need John’s baptism for himself. John the Baptist sensed this and tried to prevent him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?” Jesus insists, so John relents, but what is the purpose of his baptism? Jesus is baptized not to be made holy by the water, but to make the water holy, so that this most plentiful substance on the face of the earth could serve as the material for Christ’s gateway sacrament all throughout the world.

Jesus is baptized to allow us, through baptism, to be united to himself. His baptism foreshadows what comes in Christian baptism, what happened for you and me when we were baptized. The water, the decent of the Spirit, and the voice of the Father all signify effects of our first sacrament. Through baptism our souls were cleansed, the grace of the Holy Spirit was imparted to us, and we were acknowledged as a beloved children of God. We might take these things for granted: that sins can be forgiven, that the divine can dwell with us, that we can be more than mere servants, or slaves, or distant acquaintances to the transcendent God of the universe. That we can be treasured sons and daughters of God our Father. We need to remember and appreciate these things, for what goes unappreciated can be neglected to our loss.

The Jordan River flows about one hundred and fifty miles on the eastern border of Israel, south from the Sea of Galilee into the Dead Sea. These physical bodies of water contain a spiritual allegory. The Sea of Galilee is a large lake. Its fresh water, full of fish, pours out as the Jordan River. And this river, flowing through the arid desert, blesses its shores with life. But once these waters descent seven hundred vertical feet down into the Dead Sea, to the lowest place on earth, the water has no place else to go. So there the water sits, evaporating away in the heat, leaving its trace amounts of salt behind, causing the Dead Sea today to be an intensely salty sea in which no plants, nor fish, nor any other visible life lives.

The pure waters from above, received from the holy stream, bear no life in this recipient. Likewise, the sacraments offer grace from Heaven above, through Jesus Christ the stream of living water, but in the unrepentant soul they bear no life. Even a priest, baptized, confirmed, and ordained, saying the Mass every day, can be spiritually dead, causing spiritual harm to many, if he does not turn away from mortal sin. If you are in mortal sin, for God’s sake, for your sake, and for the sake of those around you, repent and be reconciled to God through his Sacrament of Confession. Jesus desires us to flow with his graces as a great blessing to others in this spiritually-arid world.

The words of Isaiah in our first reading point to Jesus, but because of your baptism you are in Christ. So Isaiah’s inspired words are spoken to every soul in a state of grace:

Thus says the Lord:
“You are my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one with whom I am pleased, upon whom I have put my spirit;
I, the LORD, have called you for the victory of justice, I have grasped you by the hand; I formed you… a light for the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to bring out prisoners from confinement [and darkness.]”

You might not be called to cry out or shout, making your voice heard in the streets, breaking this and crushing that. But Jesus wants to use you as his powerful instrument to do transforming good in this world. Jesus is still quietly saving souls through his faithful ones, who receive his graces and pour them forth for others. Let this be you, for Him, and for many.

The Magi Sought Jesus — Epiphany of the Lord

January 7, 2020


The Magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was greatly troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.

Why was King Herod greatly troubled? Because he saw this rumored, newborn king as a threat to his power and rule. No one ever mistook King Herod himself for being the Messiah or the Christ. Herod was not descended from David (as it was prophesied the great king of the Jews would be) and King Herod was not a godly ruler. The Roman Senate had installed him as king of Jerusalem and Judea, and he ruled as a brutal tyrant. Herod imposed harsh taxes, killed large numbers of his political opponents, and executed members of his family as well, including several of his wives and sons. The Magi, these wise astronomers from the east, had rightly interpreted the signs of heaven, but they badly misjudged Herod’s intentions. They had come, naturally enough, to Jerusalem to find the newborn King, but King Herod had no such son, so Herod hatched a wicked plan to murder any innocent child reputed to be the Christ.

Assembling all the chief priests and the scribes of the people, He inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. They said to him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it has been written through the prophet  [Micah]: And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; since from you shall come a ruler, who is to shepherd my people Israel.”

When King Herod was greatly troubled, all of Jerusalem was troubled with him because, knowing Herod, they knew the Magis’ message would likely lead to death and violence. Why did the Jewish religious leaders plainly-reveal to Herod where the Messiah might be born? They had reason to fear Herod, yet they could have demurred in Herod’s presence at responding to his inquiry. We must never tell lies, but we need not tell everything we know to everyone who asks us; for example, you don’t tell a killer where to find his next victim. The religious leaders could have replied to Herod, “Well, there are various disagreeing opinions about where the Christ will be born,” and that would have been true. The Jewish rabbis enjoyed theological debates about every question – and there was no need to let Herod know their best and most-accepted answer. Or, they could have replied, “Moses does not clearly tell us where the Christ will be born,” and that also could have been true – the prophet Micah provides that particular answer. Instead, the religious leaders tell Herod exactly where to look: “In Bethlehem of Judea,” they said to him. Without even realizing it, this was the Jewish religious leaders’ first betrayal, first denial, first rejection of Jesus Christ on earth.

Then King Herod called the magi secretly and ascertained from them the time of the star’s appearance. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search diligently for the child. When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage.” After their audience with the king they set out [and found the fulfillment of their hearts’ hopes.]

If the Magi were “overjoyed at seeing the star,” imagine how they felt upon entering the house and finding Jesus with his mother. The Magi had traveled hundreds of miles to seek out the newborn king, to give him their precious gifts, and to show him their homage. But did any of Jerusalem’s priests or scribes travel the five miles to Bethlehem to do the same? Did any of them seek out the Magi or the Holy Family to privately warm them that they were in grave danger? Apparently not, for it required dreams from Heaven to warn the Holy Family and the Magi to flee from Herod. It is as if the religious leaders didn’t believe the Messiah, their Christ, would or could be born for them; like they did not believe that God was alive and active in their present day. Despite their vast religious knowledge, these men lacked faith. You and I profess to be Catholic Christians, and that is important. We have come to Mass today, and that is very well. But the Jewish leaders show us the danger of our faith being just a theory, an idea we hold without it prompting our full response to God.

The Magi sought out Jesus. Are we seeking a daily encounter with Christ? The Magi gave Jesus their precious gifts. Are we offering our Lord our time, talents, and treasures generously? The Magi prostrated themselves before Jesus and showed him their homage. Are we loving Jesus as merely an idea, or as the most important person in our lives? The beginning of this new year is a good time to take stock of ourselves and make resolutions to follow Christ better. Do not be afraid, for it will be the fulfillment of your heart’s hopes. If you are willing, he will lead and guide you on your journey.

Lord of wonder, Lord of light,
Lord with royal beauty bright,
Heaven leading, still proceeding,
guide us to thy perfect light.

Rose in His Garden — Funeral for Rose “Rosie” Schindler, 90

December 17, 2019

After seeing ninety-one falls and ninety springs, Rosie has come to her funeral day. Today we pray for her soul with our greatest prayer, the Mass, that Rosie may rise to glory. A full Christian life like Rosie’s, married sixty-seven years, bearing five children, ten grandchildren and fifteen great-grandchildren, cannot be fully captured in one brief homily. But by taking one aspect of her life and holding it up in the light of Christ, we can see truths about her and God and us.

Rosie has many interests and loves, the farmstead, this parish, her family, her friends, but her hobby of first note was gardening. I’m told that Rosie had a huge garden and loved her flowers. She delighted in her plants, the beauty of their flowering, in the goodness of their fruits: raspberries, strawberries, blue berries, and blackberries: even crab-apples had their pleasing place for her. It is hard work to cultivate a garden well, but she rejoiced in her results.

Now something Rosie could have done, had she preferred it, would have been to raise just a single plant; but she wanted more than just one. Or, Rosie could have chosen to grow only one variety of plant in her huge garden; a mass of plants all uniform, every one the same. But what gardener does this? Raising just a single plant, or having just one breed of plant, is not what God does either in the garden of this world. Listen to these words of “the Little Flower,” St. Therese of Lisieux, about the divine gardener’s design:

“Our Lord showed me the book of nature, and I understood that every flower created by him is beautiful, that the brilliance of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not lessen the perfume of the violet or the sweet simplicity of the daisy. I understood that if all the lowly flowers wished to be roses, nature would lose it’s springtime beauty and the fields would no longer be enameled with lovely hues.”

God the Father did not plant his Son into the world to raise him up alone. God plants and tends and grows verities of people with Jesus. Jesus possessed the fullness of the beatitudes in their beauty, while we (in greater or lesser measure) bear blossoms and fruits of humility, mercy, purity, & sacrifice.

But what if I am struggling to live and grow because I’m not planted in his good soil? What if my behaviors are choking off the life of my neighbors in the garden? What if I am unfruitful because I have refused to be pruned? What if I am in danger of one day being uprooted as a weed? Then I must allow myself to be replanted and pruned by Jesus through his sacraments and through my choices, cooperating with the divine gardener, growing day-by-day, until my fall and harvest comes.

Look at these flowers donated for Rosie’s funeral. They have a variety of colors and flower types and the church is more beautiful for their uniqueness and diversity. Likewise, there is a is place for each of us in this church. Today we mourn yet rejoice in a beautiful Rose. May this day cause you and me to live in Christ, grow and blossom in our Lord, and bear sweet fruits in him as well.

A Life for Christ — 2nd Sunday of Advent—Year C

December 8, 2019


This weekend the Catholic Church Jesus Christ established joyfully celebrates and remembers one of her martyrs. Moved by the Holy Spirit, he answered God’s calling. He renounced his possessions, left his home and family behind, and lived in a different land. He lived differently, he dressed differently, and lived a celibate life for the love of God and the service of God’s people. His life was a prophetic sign for others, pointing them to Christ and his Kingdom. He was humble but brave in doing what was right. And for this faithfulness, the wicked had him killed. Today we celebrate him as one of those blessed in the Kingdom of Heaven. This description sounds a lot like St. John the Baptist, featured in today’s Gospel, but I speak of another: Brother James Miller, born in our diocese, a native son of Stevens Point, who became a Christian Brother and a missionary. He was martyred in Guatemala and, in a Mass celebrated there yesterday (December 7, 2019) was beatified by the Catholic Church, that is, declared one of the blessed in Heaven.

James Miller was born in Stevens Point in 1944, grew up on a dairy farm, and graduated from Pacelli High School. Discerning his religious vocation, he entered the novitiate of the Christian Brothers in 1962, and taught for them in St. Paul, Minnesota. In addition to teaching religion, Brother James taught English and Spanish, coached football, and worked in the maintenance of the school building. In fact, his skill and pleasure in doing such repairs would win him the nickname “Brother Fix-it.” After taking final vows in 1969, Brother James was sent abroad. He worked as a teacher, an administrator, and even a builder of schools in both Nicaragua and Guatemala, serving the poor with Christ’s love.

It was a time of great violence in Latin America, of war and terrorism between the region’s dictatorial governments and communist rebels. In these conflicts, Catholic priests and religious could be marked for death by either side. The Sandinista rebels put Brother James on a list of people to be “dealt with,” viewing him as an ally of the Nicaraguan government, but it may have been his religious community’s resistance to the Guatemalan government’s wrongdoing which led to his martyrdom.

Despite the students at Brother James’ school in Guatemala being exempt from being drafted, four men abducted a local youth from the city marketplace and forced him into military service. The Christian Brothers went to the authorities objecting to this breach and demanding their young man’s release. Soon after, on February 13, 1982, the 37-years-old Brother James Miller was up on a ladder outside, repairing a wall of the school building. There, he was shot, point-blank, multiple times, by three still-unknown gunmen. It is suggested that Brother James died before his body hit the ground.

When I read the story of St. John the Baptist’s martyrdom — of how his objection to the king’s sin landed him in a prison, of how the dancing of Herod’s daughter, the rash vows of the king, and the scheming of his vengeful queen, resulted in an executioner being dispatched to the dungeon with orders to bring back John’s head on a platter — I wonder if John the Baptist knew what was coming. Did he have any awareness of the events at the party leading to his death? I think quite likely not. I can easily imagine the sword-bearing henchman entering John’s dark cell, giving a curt command for him to bend down, and ending his holy life without any warning or explanation.

This reflection comes to mind because when Brother James was getting into the car to depart for dangerous Guatemala and, though they did not know it, he would never return, his biological brother Ralph told him to “be careful.” Brother James replied, “I’m no martyr.” And yet Brother James Miller and John the Baptist did become martyrs. They may not have expected the day or hour, but they had already made the decision to live for Christ and even die for Christ years before. Whether to love and serve Christ the King is a decision, a resolution, we each have to make and constantly renew. There is no hedging – not making the choice is making a choice; and everything follows from the choice we make.

St. Ignatius of Loyola, in his Spiritual Exercises, has a famous prayer reflection: “The Meditation on Two Standards.” (The word “Standard” in this case means a military or ceremonial flag carried on a pole.) St. Ignatius asks us to imagine a great field near Jerusalem, the holy city, where the supreme commander-in-chief of the good is Christ our Lord; and another field in the region of Babylon, the city of sin, where the chief of the enemy is Lucifer.

Imagine that chief of all the enemy seated in that field of Babylon in a great throne of fire and smoke, horrible and terrifying in shape. Consider how he issues a summons to innumerable demons and how he scatters them, some to one city and others to another, and so through all the world not one province, place, state, nor particular person is omitted. Consider how he instructs them to cast out nets and chains; to tempt human beings to a longing for riches, to a desire for the vain honor of this world, and to vast pride, thereby leading them to all other sins besides.

And then, on the contrary, imagine the supreme and true captain, who is Christ our Lord. Consider how Christ our Lord puts himself in a great field near Jerusalem, in a humble place, beautiful and welcoming. Consider how the Lord of all the world chooses so many persons – apostles, disciples, and others – and sends them through all the world spreading his holy teaching to people of all conditions and states of life. Consider the discourse which Christ our Lord gives to all His servants and friends whom He sends on this expedition, counseling them to poverty rather than riches; to contempt for worldly honor, and to humility against pride, leading them to all other virtues besides.

Whose side, whose standard will you rally to today? John the Baptist appears in our Gospel crying out to us: “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!” Blessed James Miller and St. John the Baptist gloriously rejoice today with their Lord, Jesus Christ the King. Now, which side do you choose? With whom and for whom will you live and die?

Our Partner at the Table — Funeral for Lucille Meier, 86

December 2, 2019

Today, St. Paul’s Parish is humbly honored to be offering our greatest prayer, the Holy Mass, for Lucy; a wife of 66 years, a mother of seven daughters, a grandma to 22 grandchildren, and a great-grandma to 11 great-grandchildren. May Jesus Christ, present in the Holy Eucharist and everywhere in our world, give peace to you all. No funeral homily can fully reflect the beauty and mystery of a faithful Christian life, but the facets of our lives can point to Christ and illustrate truths about him and us.

One interesting thing I’ve learned about Lucy is her skill at cards, especially Bridge, which she played here in Bloomer for years. And not only was she a “card-shark,” but Lucy played in a noteworthy way: she never criticized her partners. As a Bridge partner and as a wife and mother, she might roll her eyes at someone’s particularly dumb move, but she never berated them. Lucy was merciful with others and their errors. She never said, “I told you so,” but remained to support them in a quiet way. And Lucy had such an excellent mind at Bridge that she could carry people to victory. Even in her later years, when her mind was weakened, Lucy could still play cards and pull out a win for her partner. Jesus is like that too.

Jesus partners himself with us in a bid to win our salvation. Jesus wants us to play faultlessly without flaw, but what does he do when we sin? He does not berate us. “The Lord is kind and merciful.” Jesus is for us. Now he is not indifferent to seeing our wrongdoing; and if we give up on playing hands with him, if we walk away from the Bridge table, we’re lost. But if we come back and keep partnering with him, Jesus’ sharpest of minds can finds ways to lead us to a shared victory. If Jesus is for us, who can be against us? By cooperating with his love, we win overwhelmingly through Jesus Christ who loves us.

As Jesus tells us in the Gospel, “Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, for your Father is pleased to give you the Kingdom.” Like the Prophet Daniel writes in our first reading, the Lord desires to raise up many, North and South, East and West, to eternal life. So partner with Jesus, remain at his table, or make a good confession to return to this table, and keep fearlessly striving for him.

Lucy loves Jesus Christ. Quite recently, Thor arranged for a Communion minister from this parish to bring our Eucharistic Lord to Lucy in her memory care unit. He tells me that Lucy could no longer speak, but her face clearly spoke of her love for the One who was held up before her. And she smiled at Him.

St. Monica, in her last dying days, told her son, St. Augustine: “Bury my body wherever you will…. Only one thing I ask of you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be.” So pray for Lucy, and partner with Jesus Christ like she did, so that we may all enjoy his victory together forever.

What Happens When You Die — 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

November 9, 2019

Our days are growing shorter and shorter. In the fall, it’s impossible not to notice the dark night encroaching. The trees are being drained of the color of life, their foliage is falling dead to the ground, turning the trees into bare skeletons. The farmer’s field has yielded its harvest; the once-living crops have been cut down. This changing of nature chills us in our flesh. During this season of dying, we are reminded in the world and in the Church, of our own mortality. This is a topic personally relevant to us all. Unless Jesus comes back first, each of us is going to die. What happens next is what I’ll preach about today.

Human nature is a unity of body and soul. At death, our body and soul will separate. Our mortal remains, our dead bodies, will decay according to natural processes. Sometimes God works a miracle, causing a saint’s corpse to remain incorruptible in part or in whole, but ordinarily our dead bodies return to the dust from which we were made. Our immortal souls, however, will not go into the grave with our bodies; at death; the who that is you behind your senses, your soul, will appear for the judgment of your Creator. As the Letter to the Hebrews says, “it is appointed that human beings die once, and after this the judgment.”

In the words of the Catechism of the Catholic Church: “Death puts an end to human life as the time open to either accepting or rejecting the divine grace manifested in Christ… each will be rewarded immediately after death in accordance with his works and faith. … Each man receives his eternal retribution in his immortal soul at the very moment of his death, in a particular judgment that refers his life to Christ: either entrance into the blessedness of Heaven—through a purification or immediately,—or immediate and everlasting damnation.”

Those who die in God’s grace and friendship and are perfectly purified live for ever with Christ. This perfect life with the Most Holy Trinity – this communion of life and love with the Trinity, with the Virgin Mary, the angels and all the blessed – is called ‘Heaven.’ Heaven is the ultimate end and fulfillment of the deepest human longings, the state of supreme, definitive happiness. … [Jesus] makes partners in his heavenly glorification those who have believed in him and remained faithful to his will.

But what if we die spurning his friendship? We cannot be united with God unless we freely choose to love him. But we cannot love God if we sin gravely against him, against our neighbor or against ourselves. To die in mortal sin without repenting and accepting God’s merciful love means remaining separated from him for ever by our own free choice. This state of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed is called “Hell.” Jesus speaks repeatedly of Hell in the Gospels, so we cannot dismiss its reality. The numerous rebel angels, the demons, experience Hell, and it seems that many human beings will experience it forever as well. It’s a terrible thing, but recall C.S. Lewis’ words: “The gates of Hell are locked from the inside. … There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says, in the end, ‘Thy will be done.’ All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell.

What if I die as a friend of God but I’m still not yet perfect? What if I sincerely love God and my neighbor but I still retain a fondness for my sins. The Book of Revelation says of God’s Heavenly city “nothing unclean will enter it,” so how can I be cleansed to enter in? The Catechism teaches: “All who die in God’s grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of Heaven. The Church gives the name ‘Purgatory’ to this final purification of the elect, which is entirely different from the punishment of the damned.

On earth we know that personal conversion and change of lifestyle can be difficult. Private revelation suggests that the purifying process of Purgatory is both painful and joyful at the same time. It’s like a soldier returning victorious from a war overseas, traveling to his wife and family. His long trip home may be exhausting, but his great love for those who await him sweetens his journey and focuses his efforts to join them.

We should pray for one another on earth and we should pray for the dead as well. From her beginning, the Church has honored the memory of the dead and offered prayers for them, above all at Christ’s great sacrifice, the Mass, so that, thus purified, they may attain the beatific vision of God. The Church also commends us, especially in the month of November, to almsgiving, indulgences, and works of penance on behalf of the dead to help them on their way to the fully-unveiled presence of God. The saints in Heaven now behold the divine essence with an intuitive vision, without the mediation of any creature. The Blessed Virgin Mary, and possibly Elijah, Moses, and Enoch, already have their bodies there, but the reunited bodies and souls of all the dead, of both the just and the unjust, will rise again one day.

The resurrection of the dead, which in today’s Gospel the Sadducees denied and Jesus affirms, will precede the Last Judgment. This will be “the hour when all who are in the tombs will hear [the Son of man’s] voice and come forth, those who have done good, to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of judgment.” Then Christ will come “in his glory, and all the angels with him… Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will place the sheep at his right hand, but the goats at the left… And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” This Last Judgment will reveal even to its furthest consequences the good each of us has done or failed to do during our earthly life.

After this last and universal judgment, the universe itself will be renewed into what Scripture calls “a new Heavens and a new Earth.” Recall how Jesus’ resurrected body is the body that was pierced (for he still bears some wounds as trophies,) and it is the body that was buried (for the Easter tomb is empty,) but Jesus’ resurrected body is now gloriously transformed. The same body, but renewed Likewise, our resurrected bodies and this material universe will be renewed and transformed as well. Then the righteous will reign with Christ, glorified in body and soul, in a new heavens and new earth, forever.

From these reflections on the last things, I offer you these three takeaways. First: care for your soul. Be committed to prayer and the sacraments (particularly confession for the forgiveness of your sins.) Second: pray for the dead. They will appreciate it forever and pray for you too. Third and finally: remember that our time on earth is short. And forever is a very long time. You have just one life, so live and love heroically in Christ.

A Well-Nourished Tree — Funeral for Lois Eastman, 93

November 9, 2019

I offer my personal sympathy and the condolences of St. Paul’s parish at the passing of Lois, whom you know and love. In this church, 69 years ago, Lois married Jerry, her husband of 42 years. They went on to be blessed with six children. Today, we pray for Lois to have a special place among God’s children at the wedding feast of Heaven. No brief homily can capture the full mystery of a Christian life. At funerals, I just try to preach about one true aspect of the departed person’s life that reflects an important lesson for us with Jesus Christ and his Church.

Lois’ family told me a number of stories about her, and one theme I noticed was her fierce independence. For many years now, until quite recently, Lois always lived on her own. Not long ago, when her children suggested she use something to help her keep her worsening balance, she replied, “Canes and walkers are for old people.” Lois was 93 years old. Lots of people are set in their ways or stubborn, but here’s the really remarkable thing: not long after that remark to her kids Lois actually took their advice and started using a cane. In this and other things, Lois’s independence did not prevent her from accepting the help she needed.

Years before she absolutely needed a cane, Lois had trouble negotiating steps. But she would drive somewhere, by herself, with a plan: ‘someone will help me up and down the stairs when I get there.’ She would show us and say to someone she saw, “Hey, you over there, can you help me?” If the streets were icy in the wintertime, she would stand by her car until a person came along to help her up the curb and across the sidewalk to where she was going.

Lois was fiercely independent, but she acknowledged her need for help – and Lois knew she needed Jesus. Lois prayed every night, and until a couple years ago went to Mass every day, every day of the week except Sunday. (That’s because she went to the Sunday vigil Mass on Saturday night.) She sat in front pew to hear Jesus’ word and receive his very self. Lois knew that other people needed him too, so she would pick people up to bring them to church and brought our Lord in the Holy Eucharist to others at their houses or nursing homes.

We all want to be free. We all want our lives to be full and fruitful. And Jesus wants that, too. But people imagine that living their best life means keeping Jesus away while we do our own thing. Do you keep Jesus at arm’s length? Hear then the Parable of the Solitary Tree:

Once upon a time, there was a tree. This tree wanted to be free, to be its own tree, free to do its own thing, and not rely on anyone. So it told the Sun to go away, along with the rain clouds above it, the air all around it, and the ground beneath it. And the tree soon found itself in cold darkness – thirsting, gasping, and falling. Realizing its serious error, the tree asked, the tree begged them all to return, and they returned to the tree; which then lived and grew and produced much fruit.

In the same way, you and I were never meant be completely independent. Almighty God, the source and the sustainer of the universe, is not a solitude, but a Trinity, a loving communion of persons. So we are most fully ourselves when we’re connected to God and each other through Jesus Christ.

Pray for Lois, but do not fear for her. You know how she loved and relied on Jesus. And if you’ve been away from Jesus, I urge you to call him back and return to his house, his Church. Do not be afraid to rely on our Good Lord. To quote one of Lois’ favorite songs:

If you wonder how long he’ll be faithful
I’ll be happy to tell you again
He’s gonna love you forever and ever
Forever and ever, amen.

Obstacles to Jesus — 31st Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

November 6, 2019

Last week, Jesus told us a parable about a penitential tax collector. This Sunday, St. Luke recounts for us a true story about real one. Jesus came to Jericho and a man there named Zacchaeus, a chief tax collector and a wealthy man, was seeking to see him. You just heard the ending of that story; Zacchaeus joyfully succeeds in to beholding and encountering Jesus, and Jesus happily succeeds in finding and saving Zacchaeus. But Zacchaeus’ story would have ended differently if he had allowed any earthly obstacle or any human excuse to stop him. What sort of things could have gotten in Zacchaeus’s way of seeing and encountering Jesus? Many of the same things that can get in our way.

For starters, Zacchaeus could have believed or claimed that he was too busy to devote time for Jesus. Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector, a busy man, and this appears to have been a working business day. Faithful Jews did not walk long distances on the Sabbath day of rest. The rabbinic tradition set the limit for Saturday travel at 2,000 cubits or about ¾ of a mile. (That’s not very far.) But Jesus walked to Jericho and had intended to pass through the town, suggesting that tolls and taxes from toilers and traders and travelers were there for the tax man’s taking. But Zacchaeus made time for Jesus in his busy day.

Are we busy? I’d bet that most people would say that they are, but busy with what? Last year, the average American adult spent 3 hours and 44 minutes a day watching television; that’s more than 28 hours per week, that’s a full 56 days in a year! Maybe you don’t watch TV at home (I don’t) but how much time do we expend with games and social media and entertainments online? Whether we have time or not for something is really a question of priorities.

We just celebrated All Saints’ Day’s. Have you ever considered, if you get canonized as a saint someday, what you would like to become the patron saint of? If I get canonized I’d like to be the patron saint of packing. I have a number of reasons for desiring this niche but needed patronage, but it all goes back to a lesson from my father. One time, for an Illinois trip, he taught me how to pack a car trunk. He said, “Put the big things in first, and then fit the smaller things in around them.” So it is with life; put the big things in first. Make time for weekly Mass, daily prayer, spiritual study, and spiritual growth. Make them your priority.

Another reality that could have made Zacchaeus give up on Jesus when they got in his way was other people. “Zacchaeus was seeking to see who Jesus was; but he could not see him because of the crowd, for he was short in stature.” (In other words, Zacchaeus wasn’t tall.) The crowd was not only an imposing physical barrier, but a hostile obstacle as well. They all knew him by sight and despised him as a sinner. Because of Zacchaeus’s small size, they could easily and effectively block him out or even push him away from Jesus.

On this occasion, the short of statue Zacchaeus was one of the “little ones” whom Jesus warns us not to despise: “It is not the will of your heavenly Father that one of these little ones be lost.” And Jesus warns of great woe for anyone who causes his little ones spiritual harm: “Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.” It is gravely wrong to push people away from Jesus through sin, but it is also a great error for us to allow others to push us away from Jesus. Jesus’ Church is holy but it’s the home of sinners, too. Do not let Judas’s betrayals or Peter’s denials, as horrible as these scandals are, keep you away from meeting Jesus here.

Zacchaeus did not let the obstacle of other people thwart him. When he was unable to penetrate the crowd, “he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree in order to see Jesus, who was about to pass that way.” It is debated within scripture commentaries whether is was considered undignified for a first century Jewish man to run apart from an emergency. But another embarrassing aspect of this story remains recognizable for us today. When was the last time you saw a grown man climb a tree for any reason other than to cut down a branch? Climbing trees is something kids do. When people saw Zacchaeus, the rich man, sitting in a tree on Main Street they probably pointed and laughed at him. But Zacchaeus ignored their gossip and mockery to do this for Jesus, and that made the difference for his soul.

Jesus expects us to be different from the world sometimes, both in the things we do and the things we don’t or refuse to do. And people will not always respect us or like us because of it. There are various reasons for this hostility, but a major one was noted in the second century by a Christian who wrote: “the world hates the Christians not because they have done it any wrong, but because they are opposed to its enjoyments.” Jesus tells his disciples at the Last Supper before his death: “If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.”

Do you sometimes avoid doing good things because you’re afraid of looking too pious or of being thought of as a goody-two-shoes? Do pray before meals to give thanks to God and ask him to bless your food at home but never at restaurants? Do you avoid receiving Jesus’ absolution in sacramental confession because you’re afraid of what the priest or others might think? When and where was the last time you mentioned the name of Jesus outside of church or apart from prayer? We need to be unashamed to be Christians, unashamed to be Catholics, not cowed by peer pressure but bold in doing what Jesus desires of us.

Let’s make a quick review of the things that might have prevented Zacchaeus, or might prevent us, from seeking and encountering Jesus: believing or saying we’re too busy; obstacles from other people, their sinfulness or peer pressure; and finally, our own resistance to full or true conversion.

When Jesus reached the tree he saw a fruit hanging in it for his harvest. Jesus looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.” And Zacchaeus came down quickly and received him with joy. Jesus was not content to simply exchange pleasantries and then go their separate ways. Jesus says, “I must stay at your house.” This more than merely a historical detail–this is a profound utterance; the Lord desires to dwell with Zacchaeus for all his days.

In encountering Jesus Christ, Zacchaeus realizes he must change the way he lives. He can’t play host to Jesus one day and then behave like it never happened. Well, he could, that’s the temptation. He can keep clinging to his sins, but his sins haven’t made him happy. If Zacchaeus had been content with his life he would not have been trying so hard to see Jesus. Now, Zacchaeus is free to change his life with Christ, and he’s excited by the new hope set before him. Zacchaeus declares: “Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone I shall repay it four times over.” The focus of Zacchaeus’ life has changed. No more defrauding. No more hoarding. Now, the Lord dwells in Zacchaeus’ house as his honored guest. And giving away one-half of all his wealth suggests his heart’s intention to love his neighbor as himself. And Jesus says to him, “Today salvation has come to this house.

The name Zacchaeus is a Hebrew name. It means “clean” or “pure.” While Zacchaeus was still imperfect, still unclean, still impure, Jesus called out to him by name and said “today I must stay at your house.” And Zacchaeus, by finding and knowing Jesus, became true to his name, realized his true identity, became his true self. The Lord desires the same for each of us. So allow nothing to get in your way of seeing and encountering Jesus.

Preserved for Life — Funeral for Mark Schoonover, 65

November 6, 2019

Mark is loved and mourned by many in our community and in this parish. That’s seen in the many people here today. And we will miss him. Dying at age 65, Mark is one of the youngest people I have had a funeral for in my time here at St. Paul’s. And Mark will also be the closest parishioner, the closest friend, that I have buried here thus far. I often say that no mere homily can capture the fullness of the mystery of a Christian life well-lived. But I offer this brief reflection to reveal a truth about Mark’s life and the mystery of Jesus working in it. Mark’s family told me a number of great stories about his life that I hadn’t heard before, and I noticed a theme. Mark has faced death several times before.

In 1969, his family was driving in a car together when a drunk driver ran through a stop sign in front of them. His father, Tom, saw the crash coming and warned everyone to brace. There were no car seats, no seat belts in the car. Mark, just 15 years old, reached over and grabbed his 11-month-old sister, Wendy. He suffered a broken rib, broken collarbone, 30 stitches and a concussion, but he saved his sister’s life.

Later, as an A-6 Intruder Bombardier-Navigator in the Navy, I suspect there were a number anxious brushes with death he might not have ever mentioned. Flying hundreds of miles-per-hour in a complex military machine, in all sorts of weather, catapulting-off and landing upon aircraft carriers in the Pacific Ocean surely has its dicey, dangerous moments.

I’m told that one time, on the ground near his airbase in Washington State, Mark went sheep hunting alone in the mountains. He got his big sheep, and the family still has the picture of it, but he realized he would not make it out of the wilderness by nightfall. Something told him, to sit, to stay there. He sensed he should just stay there. So Mark sat vigil with the sheep. In the morning, when the sun rose and brought more light to his situation, he realized that he had been sitting just feet from the edge of the mountain. If he had tried to walk by himself in the darkness of that night, he may well have gone over the edge.

When Mark was diagnosed with brain cancer, there was great concern that he would die then. He told Traci, “God will get us through this.” And they were granted a gracious respite. Mark’s health recovered almost fully-back to normal for some blessed, precious months. However, his cancer treatments did a number on his liver, the organ in the body charged with expelling toxins. I was recently able to see Mark with Traci and Abby in the hospital. I was honored to anoint him and give him the Apostolic Pardon. Soon after, when his death was imminent, they brought him home, to the cabin on the lake up north. On the morning he died, Traci tells me that they watched the sun rise over the lake together. That is a beautiful death.

Sometimes older people in nursing homes, up in years and burdened with weakness and pains, ask me, not without faith but actually with a great deal of faith, “Why am I still here?” Their children are grown, most of their friends have passed away, they have grown tired of life and they wonder why the Lord has not taken them already. I always tell them the same thing, “If you are still alive on this earth, either God is doing something in you, or through you, or both.

Why did God preserve Mark throughout his years up till now? Because the Lord was working in him, and through him, both. Did God fail Mark in this last illness? Did God the Father fail his Son on the Cross? No. He who pleased God was loved, glorified through his passion, and brought to God by God himself.

The Book of Wisdom says of the just man who dies young:
Having become perfect in a short while,
he reached the fullness of a long career;
for his soul was pleasing to the Lord,
therefore he sped him out of the midst of wickedness.

And St. Paul reminds us:
If we live, we live for the Lord,
and if we die, we die for the Lord;
so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.

A day like this is challenging, and it is sad. Pray for Mark, but do not fear for him. You know of his life and of his faith in Christ. Talk to him. I ask him to pray for me. We are not abandoned, not without the helping graces we need. So cooperate with that grace, that grace of God working in you and through you, so that one day all of us may be reunited in Christ, rejoicing with Mark, forever.

Humility, Truth, & Love — 30th Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

October 28, 2019

Today’s second reading from the Second Letter to Timothy has St. Paul declaring near the end of his earthly life: “I have competed well, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on the crown of righteousness awaits me, which the Lord, the just judge, will award to me…” Recall how at the Visitation, after encountering her cousin Elizabeth, St. Mary declares about herself: “[God] has looked with favor on his lowly servant; from this day all generations will call me blessed.” Are these humble things for Mary and Paul to say about themselves?

Well, they’re both true statements, inspired by the Holy Spirit. Paul, having finished his race, is now a triumphant saint in Heaven, and the Church calls Mary the Blessed Virgin in every generation even to our day. True humility is not thinking that you’re dirt, it is being down-to-earth, well-grounded, and rooted in reality. Jesus says, “Let your light shine before others,” and the Blessed Virgin Mary pleases and honors God when she states, “The Almighty has done great things for me and holy is his name.” God has done good things for you as well, so thank and praise and glorify him for it!

But wait a minute, someone might object, wasn’t the Pharisee who went up to pray at the Temple in Jesus’ parable today also thanking God and declaring true statements about himself? What if this Pharisee did fast twice a week; what if he did pay tithes on his entire income; and was neither greedy, dishonest, nor adulterous? That is what’s implied by the parable, and those are all very good things! So why then does he incur our Lord and God’s displeasure?

Today’s gospel says “Jesus addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else.” Jesus says the Pharisee took up his position at the Temple and spoke this prayer to himself, “O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity – greedy, dishonest, adulterous – or even like this tax collector.” Imagine the Pharisee praying these words out loud, within earshot of this tax collector in front of everybody. Yet, even if the Pharisee prayed silently, or quietly to himself, and his neighbor did not hear him; the Pharisee despised the tax collector and the rest of humanity, and did not gain God’s pleasure. Like St. Paul once wrote, “If I give away everything I own, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.” In order to gain Heaven; truth, love, and sacrifice all need to go together within us.

We see the truth, authentic love, and self-sacrifice combined in the inspiring life of the twentieth century saint, Edith Stein. She was born into a Orthodox Jewish family but renounced her faith by the age of thirteen and embraced atheism. She went on to become a respected PhD in philosophy. Then, one night while staying with friends on a vacation, she read the entire autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila. The following morning she put the book down and declared, “That is the truth,” and responded accordingly. She was baptized a Catholic at the age of thirty, became a Carmelite nun and took the name Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, like the Carmelite St. Teresa of Avila before her. During World War II, because of her Jewish ancestry, the Nazis came to arrest her along with her biological sister Rosa, who worked at the convent. Teresa Benedicta reportedly said to Rosa, “Come. Let us go and die for our people.” They were taken to Auschwitz where survivors of the death camp testified that the nun helped other sufferers with great compassion. A week after their arrest, she and her sister were killed in the gas chamber. St. Teresa Benedicta comes to my mind this Sunday because of one of her most famous quotes: “Do not accept anything as truth that lacks love and do not accept anything as love that lacks truth. One without the other is a destructive lie.

It could be said that the proud Pharisee in our parable had the truth without love, while our culture today has many (so called) loves apart from the truth. Through our friendship, our prayers, and our perseverance, the tax collectors we know today need to encounter love and the truth, that they might turn to Jesus and say “O God, be merciful to me a sinner,” and be saved. If you think you see someone seriously sinning; perhaps in your circles or our community, on TV or in the news; be sure—at very least—to pray for them. Maybe you’re right, which means that they are greatly in need of your prayer. Or perhaps you’re judging rashly or too harshly, in which case you are in need more prayer. In any case, you cannot both hate someone and pray for someone at the same time, because praying for someone is an act of love.

As Jesus tells us, “the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” Praying for and loving sinners makes you their servant in the likeness of Christ. Jesus came to us, he told us the truth, he prayed and interceded for us, and he even died for us – you and me and everyone. Jesus wants all of us to be like him, loving in truth and sharing the truth in love.