Archive for the ‘Weekday Homilies’ Category

7 Superpowers — Tuesday, 1st Week of Advent

November 30, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

November 22, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

November 16, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

November 11, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uniquely Different — October 28 — Sts. Simon and Jude

November 3, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Prepare Yourself—Wednesday, 30th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

October 20, 2010

If you knew for a fact that you were going to die, or that Jesus was coming again,  one month from today, how would you begin living your life differently?

  • Would you pray more? 
  • Would you work harder to do good deeds?
  • Would you resolve to crush lingering vices?
  • Would you forgive enemies?
  • Would you show greater love toward people in your life?

Jesus said to his disciples:

“Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”

This is much is certain: someday we will die, or we shall live to see Jesus return ‘at an unexpected hour.’ So, let us commit ourselves by the grace of God  to living in such a way now that if someone were to ask us what we would do differently if the end of the world or the end of our lives were near, we could honestly answer, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

The Rot Inside — Tuesday, 28th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

October 13, 2010

St. Paul says in the first reading that “the works of the flesh are obvious.”  If so, then why does Jesus have to point out the sins of the scribes and Pharisees, whose sinfulness “are like unseen graves over which people unknowingly walk”? It’s not that Jesus is pronouncing “woe” upon people unaware that they have sins, the problem is these people think that their hidden sins are no big deal because of their outward practices and appearances.

As long as we are at ease with “immorality, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, hatreds, rivalry, jealousy, outbursts of fury, acts of selfishness, dissensions, factions, occasions of envy, drinking bouts, orgies, and the like,” in our lives we will not enter the Kingdom of God. Even if we do not end up in Hell because of them, we will certainly have to wait on the doorstep to Heaven in Purgatory until these sins are rooted out. Let us crush these sins in our lives like the cancers that they are.

The Eager Provider — Thursday, 27th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

October 7, 2010

Today we celebrate Our Lady of the Rosary and we hear a parable about a man who would rather not be bothered.  Let us compare this man to Mary.

He considers his visitor his friend, but she claims us as her children.

He feels too tired to help, but she never sleeps.

He hesitates to provide, but she is eager to give.

If mothers who are imperfect know how to give good gifts to their children, how much more will our perfect mother in Heaven intercede to give us good things whenever we ask her in the Rosary. It is a prayer which she receives from us as a sweet bouquet of roses.

The Author of Life — Tuesday, 27th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

October 5, 2010

If you took our Catholic faith and boiled it down to its most central and fundamental truths what would you have? I think you would end up with these four foundations:

First, that God is three divine persons who are one in being, a union we call the Trinity. Second, that Jesus Christ is both God and Man, a reality we call the Incarnation. Third, that Jesus Christ, to save us from sin and death, suffered, died, resurrected and ascended, an event we call the Pascal Mystery, and from which Jesus empowers His Church’s sacraments. And fourth, that every, single, human being has inherent worth and surpassing value, a truth we call the dignity of the human person. It is this fourth fundamental truth of our Catholic Faith that I will focus upon today.

The psalmist says to God:

“Truly you have formed my inmost being;
you knit me in my mother’s womb.
I give you thanks that I am fearfully, wonderfully made”

From the womb, God fashioned your inmost being, giving you an intellect to know, a freewill to act, and a desire for loving communion with others. Made in God’s own image and likeness, made for a purpose and made for love, every human life is precious from conception to natural death.

Sadly, laws sometimes disregard this dignity, and even Christians can forget it too. Martha looked down on her sister because she thought Mary was not being useful enough or productive enough. Martha only saw Mary as causing a burden to herself, yet Mary was exactly where the Lord willed her to be.

As Mrs. Eichstadt said before, God has a providential plan for each one of you. Like St. Paul, the Lord has set you apart from your mother’s womb for a great story which He has in mind. But anyone who would presume to cut short an innocent life would deprive God of a masterpiece.

Assisted suicide or euthanasia rips out the crucial final chapters. Suicide, murder, or neglect of our neighbor unto death, would end a story halfway. And abortion prevents the story from ever being told. Jesus is the author of our lives and He is to be the one who decides when our lives end. Maybe you will always remember the homily when Father tore up a book, but remember this too: every human life is precious and worth more than many, many books.

The Little Flower — October 1 — St. Therese of Lisieux

October 1, 2010

Why do we call St. Therese of Lisieux “the Little Flower?” This imagery comes from Therese’s autobiography and she applies the name to herself.  She writes:

“[Jesus] 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 its springtime beauty, and the fields would no longer be enameled with lovely hues. And so it is in the world of souls, which is the garden of Jesus.  He has been pleased to create great saints who may be compared to the lily and the rose, but He has also created lesser ones, who must be content to be daisies or simple violets flowering at His feet, and whose mission it is to gladden His divine eyes when he deigns to look down on them.”

She writes that her autobiography is “the story of the Little Flower gathered by Jesus.”

Therese thought she was only a little flower, yet she was greater than she realized. Just 27 years after her death she would be canonized a saint. John Paul the Great would name her a Doctor of the Church (the third, female Doctor, after Catherine of Sienna and Teresa of Avila.) Pope Pius XI even called her, “The greatest saint of modern times.” Such was the greatness of her life, her words, and her friendship with God.  And yet, Therese didn’t realize her greatness while she lived.

If St. Therese, the Doctor of the Church, could so misjudge her importance in the garden of the Lord, then how easy might it be for a humble, daily, Mass-goer to under-appraise his or her significance in the eyes of God too?

Job’s Desolation — Tuesday, 26th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

September 28, 2010


The sadness of Job is like a heavy stone hanging from his neck.

In his pain, he seems to forget that he is surrounded by people who care about him very much. When Job’s friends learn of his misfortune they come to him. For days and nights they sit with Job, listening, not saying a word, yet saying a great deal by just being there. He is not alone.

In his despair, Job imagines that his life will never get better. Yet he cannot see the future. The Lord is going to bless Job and happiness will return to him.

In his darkness, Job wishes he were dead. He asks, “Why did I not perish at birth?” Yet death is not the way. When the Samaritans rejected Jesus, James and John asked to rain down fire, but Jesus rebuked them for it. As long as there is life, there is hope, for the Samaritans, and for us.

How wrong it is if we mistake death for the way of peace, for that is not Christ’s answer. How wrong it is if we imagine that we will never be happy again, for sun’s light shines beyond our horizon or behind the clouds, even if we cannot see it. And how wrong it is if we forget that people care about us, for each of us here is loved more than we know.

The Scandalous Cross — September 14 — Exultation of the Holy Cross

September 14, 2010

Jesus died on a cross. But what if Jesus had died differently? Then, instead of crosses, Christians might wear little nooses. Under different circumstances, we might be celebrating the Feast of the Holy Electric Chair, or the Exultation of the Lethal-Injection Syringe. These images unsettle us, but we are comfortable with the idea of Jesus’ cross. However, whenever we find ourselves complaining, we are feeling the scandal of the cross.

We will naturally dislike it when life is hard on us, but “do not forget the works of the Lord.” Jesus’ crucifixion, despite its pain, injustice, and seeming futility, was the means for His glory and for our salvation. With Christ we become invincible, because even our suffering profits us. So when unavoidable crosses come, patiently bear them and use them as a powerful offering to God.

Enduring Injustices — Tuesday, 23rd Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

September 7, 2010

St. Paul rebukes the Corinthians today, saying, “[It is] a failure on your part that you have lawsuits against one another.” Then he says something that rubs us the wrong way: Paul asks, “Why not rather put up with injustice? Why not rather let yourselves be cheated?” We resist, saying, “It’s just common sense that we shouldn’t let ourselves be cheated.” But sometimes common sense falls short. That’s why we need the teachings Jesus Christ revealed. Jesus said:

“When someone strikes you on your right cheek, turn the other one to him as well. If anyone wants to go to law with you over your tunic, hand him your cloak as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who wants to borrow.”

Now this does not mean that we should be indifferent to injustices done to others, nor that we should seek out opportunities to be wronged by others ourselves. But when we are personally wronged, Paul suggests that we try imitating Jesus. St. Peter would agree, for he wrote:

“If you are patient when you suffer for doing what is good, this is a grace before God. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in his footsteps. ‘He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.’ When he was insulted, he returned no insult; when he suffered, he did not threaten; instead, he handed himself over to the one who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body upon the cross, so that, free from sin, we might live for righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.”

The next time you find yourself wronged, try imitating Christ. Jesus trusted that the Father would provide for Him, and He was provided for. Jesus accepted His unjust suffering, and it changed the world. Jesus invites you to accept a cross and to follow Him into this mystery.

Outstreched Hands — Monday, 23rd Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

September 6, 2010

The Lord said to Moses in Egypt, “Stretch out your hand toward the sky, that hail may fall upon the entire land…” Moses stretched out his hand, and the Lord rained down hail upon their enemies.

Then the Lord said to Moses, “Stretch out your hand over the land of Egypt, that locusts may swarm over it and eat up all the vegetation and whatever the hail has left.” Moses stretched out his hand, and the Lord sent locusts upon their enemies.

Finally, the Lord said to Moses, “Stretch out your hand, over the sea, that the water may flow back upon the Egyptians, upon their chariots and their charioteers.” Moses stretched out his hand, and the Lord hurled their enemies into the sea.

Centuries later, the Lord Jesus Christ said to a man in the synagogue, “Stretch out your hand.” The man stretched out his withered hand and it was healed, but the scribes and the Pharisees were enraged and plotted against Jesus. This time, it was not the Lord’s enemies who were to bear the terrible onslaught, but the Lord Jesus Himself. Jesus realized this, and freely accepted it, for the sake of you and me.

Saintly Vigilance — Thursday, 21st Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

August 26, 2010

The usual reading of today’s Gospel sees Jesus warning His followers to be ever watchful and prepared for the coming of the Lord. When we hear his image of a mud-brick house being broken into (or literally, dug through) we think of the devil as that thief, robbing us of the treasure in our souls. This interpretation is good and true. We should be vigilant in the keeping of our own immortal souls. But let me suggest that He teaches us another lesson as well, for Jesus words are autobiographical.

Jesus is that “master of the house.” He is the husband in His household, the Church. And Jesus did know the pivotal hour of night to “stay awake” and “keep watch” in the garden of Gethsemane. When His enemies arrived, Jesus did not allow His household be broken into and robbed. He said, “…If you are looking for me, let these men go.” He did not lose any of His own which the Father had given to Him.

“Who then is the faithful and prudent servant, whom the master has put in charge of his household to distribute to them their food at the proper time?” Jesus is that faithful and prudent servant, who feeds us our needed food. And seeing His suffering servant’s love, God the Father, who the master of all, has placed Jesus over all His property.

Yes, we should be vigilant in the keeping of our own immortal souls, but Jesus’ example suggests something more, to be have concern for the care of others’ souls as well. Who has God entrusted to you? Perhaps family members come first to mind, but think of your friends, co-workers, and others as well. Ask yourself in what ways you can be of good to their souls as well. God rewards those who love like this with a greater glory than just salvation alone.