Archive for the ‘Jesus Christ’ Category

Finding Jesus in the Temple

March 19, 2020

The Solemnity of St. Joseph

Each year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, and when he was twelve years old, they went up according to festival custom. After they had completed its days, as they were returning, the boy Jesus remained behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Thinking that he was in the caravan, they journeyed for a day and looked for him among their relatives and acquaintances, but not finding him, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him.

After three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions, and all who heard him were astounded at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were astonished, and his mother said to him, “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.” And he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them.


Joseph and Mary feel great anxiety in these days. Jesus is missing and Jerusalem could be dangerous. Yet the young Lord Jesus is not lost. Retracing their steps they find him in the Temple. He’s dialoguing with the Jewish teachers, perhaps answering their replies with more probing questions of his own in the tradition of the rabbis.

Mary asks her Son, “Why have you done this to us?” Her anxiety, perhaps even touched by anger, is natural. Jesus has purposes in these events that his parents do not fully grasp, but they still love him and he loves them too. “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Jesus could have been found by his parents sooner; he was in the Temple the whole time.

You may feel great anxiety in these days. With the suspension of public Masses you could feel like Jesus is missing. Given the serious reports of disease the city could be dangerous. Yet we have not lost Jesus. Retracing your steps you can find him in the church.

What questions are you asking Jesus in prayer? What question does he pose you in reply? Perhaps you ask, “Why have you allowed this to happen to us?” Our feelings of anxiety or anger are natural. Jesus has purposes in these events that we do not fully grasp, but we still love him and he loves us too.

And Jesus can still be found nearby; he has been present in the tabernacle of the church this whole time. You can find Jesus in his Temple by visiting the Real Presence of our Eucharistic Lord. St. Paul’s Church is open daily, 7 AM to 7 PM and St. John the Baptist’s Church is open 8 AM to 7 PM on Saturdays, Sundays, Tuesdays, & Thursdays. These churches will be spray-disinfected for each day they are open, but use the cleaning materials located in the back of church to clean your seating area before and after use.

Follow these important safety tips as they might save your life or the lives of others’:

  • Realize that possibly 80% of confirmed cases of Coronavirus are contracted from people who did not realize they were sick and that symptoms typically take five days to manifest. Therefore, we must guard against this disease before we know it is among us. Practice social distancing.
  • If you have a cough or a fever, you might not be sick with the Coronavirus but please stay home; this virus can linger in the air and upon surfaces and infect others.
  • Remember that the virus can survive on surfaces (such as door handles, pews, and clothing) for one, two, or three days; so avoid touching your eyes, nose, or mouth. Treat unwashed hands as if they were infected and clean them often with soap and water.
  • Maintain at least a six-foot distance from other people.
  • No more than nine persons can be at the church at once (under emergency Wisconsin state law and by our bishop’s decree).
  • The most common place visitors sit in church is the back pews; so I suggest sitting in other, less-frequented, possibly-safer rows.


St. Joseph,
Patron of the Universal Church
and Protector of the Holy Family,
pray for us in our time of need

 

Finding Jesus in our Isolation — 3rd Sunday of Lent—Year A

March 16, 2020

Today’s Gospel story contains a valuable lesson for us in our present situation.

Jesus, tired from his journey, sat down there
at [Jacob’s] well. It was about noon.
A woman of Samaria came to draw water.
Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.”

There is a weird detail contained in these passages: the woman is going to the well to draw water at noon. It’s hot at noon in the Middle East, so Jesus and the woman are the only ones there. Why didn’t she come in the morning or the evening when the heavy job of hauling water would not have the added burden of the midday sun and heat? It’s because she didn’t want to be there when the other women would be around. Jesus reveals that the woman has no true husband and that she has had five different mates through the years. Jesus knows this supernaturally but her neighbors know something of these facts naturally, through local gossip. This woman has a reputation and if she were to go to that well at the same time as the other women they would make her feel unwelcome, through their words or their silence, with their eyes and their body language. They have quarantined themselves from her and she has socially distanced her heart from them.

In the middle of her day,
in the uncertainties of her life,
amid the stress of her tasks,
in her personal isolation,
she is surprised to encounter Jesus there.

He says to her:

“If you knew the gift of God and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him and he would have given you living water. … Whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

Jesus wins over the woman’s soul, she leaves her water jar behind and joyfully proclaims her great discovery. Meanwhile, the returned disciples urge Jesus, ‘Rabbi, Teacher, eat something!’ But he says to them, “I have food to eat of which you do not know. … My food is to do the will of the one who sent me and to finish his work.” Of course Jesus is hungry—physical realities are real—but he has nourishment in his soul, from his relationship with God his Father and his deepening relationship with those he has come to save, like this woman at the well.

Now in likening the woman at the well to one quarantined from others, I am not advising you to take unnecessary or imprudent risks amidst this current Coronavirus pandemic. In these months ahead, some of us will be called to acts of particular courage; nurses and doctors come first to mind. But we should not blithely, unnecessarily place ourselves in foreseeable natural dangers expecting God to perform miracles to protect us. Recall how Satan tempted, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here. For it is written: ‘He will command his angels concerning you’ and ‘with their hands they will support you, lest you dash your foot against a stone.” Jesus answers, “You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test.” We must not act presumptuously.

The reason I mention the woman finding Jesus in her isolation is because, whatever our health may be, we need to encounter him there as well. Public Masses continue in our diocese, but it is very probable that these will be suspended in the future, just as Catholic Churches suspended public Masses a century ago during the Spanish Flu pandemic. I will personally be very surprised if we are having Mass here together two weeks from today. [Post-Script: On the evening of March 17th, Bishop William Callahan directed his priests to abide by Wisconsin’s statewide ban on all gatherings of more than 10 people announced earlier in the day. As a result, we are cancelling all remaining public Masses at my parishes.] Yet even in times when public Masses are readily available, most hours of our week and not spent inside of a church.

In the middle of your day,
in the uncertainties of your life,
amid the stress of your tasks,
in your personal isolation,
you can encounter Jesus there.

He is with you and within you, so you are never really alone.
Jesus says:

“Let anyone who thirsts come to me and drink.
Whoever believes in me, as scripture says:
‘Rivers of living water will flow from within him.’”

Wherever you are, find him there, and draw on his graces.

I seem to recall a story about St. Faustina Kowaska, the Polish nun and visionary most closely associated with the Divine Mercy devotion. When she was confined to her convent infirmary, suffering from the tuberculosis which would eventually take her life, she lamented that for one or more days in a row she had been unable to receive Holy Communion. In a vision, Jesus reassured her, saying, ‘Whenever you receive me in the Eucharist, I remain within you until you receive me again, unless you cast me out through mortal sin.’ Similarly, in the sixth chapter of John, Jesus famously declares:

“I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst. … Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.”

Christ’s Church encourages frequent, even daily, reception of Holy Communion as a helpful devotion toward holiness, but whether your next communion is one week or three months from now, know that Jesus is with you to provide his sufficient graces for your life. If public Masses are suspended in our diocese, realize that I and other Catholic priests, even if standing alone in our churches, will still be offering the Holy Mass daily for you and the whole world. And we will be bringing Confession, Holy Anointing, and Viaticum to the sick, as is our calling and duty, for as long as we are able. This Wuhan Coronavirus pandemic is rightfully concerning. (I urge you to read my bulletin article this weekend.) But whatever comes we need not fear, for “we know that all things work for good for those who love God,” and “whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.” As Jesus would very often say, “Be not afraid.

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.

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.

Naming Jesus — January 1 — Mary the Mother of God

January 7, 2020

“When eight days were completed for his circumcision, he was named Jesus, the name given him by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.”

Who named Jesus? In one sense, it was his parents; Mary his mother and Joseph his adoptive-father. Yet this name was not their own idea. At the Annunciation, the Archangel Gabriel told Mary: “you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus.” And later on, an angel of God, likely Gabriel but perhaps another, told Joseph in a dream: “[Mary, your wife,] will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” So this name was communicated to Jesus’ parents, and both parents were instructed to name him so, but the idea of this name and the commands to bestow it did not originate with the angels.

The word “angel” comes from the Greek and Latin words for “messenger,” and the angel spirits are messengers of God. The Archangel Gabriel was sent from God to Nazareth to announce to Mary the plan and will of God. So who named Jesus? First and foremost, God. The Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians declares, “[God] bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth”.

And what does the name of Jesus mean? The name “Jesus” (or “Iēsous” in Greek) is “Yeshua” in Hebrew, which means “Yahweh helps,” or “God saves.” The name of Jesus, given him by his Heavenly Father, denotes the message and the mission of the Son, And this message and mission was given him by the Father. Jesus declares, “I did not speak on my own, but the Father who sent me commanded me what to say and speak,” and “I came down from heaven not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me.” The Father names his Son, and the Son is obedient to his Father’s authority.

Naming someone or something is to author its name, and authorship denotes authority over that person or thing. In the story of Creation, God creates and names the Day and the Night; the Sky, the Earth, and the Sea. Then the Lord forms man from the ground and settles him in the garden, with a mission to cultivate, protect, and care for it. Then God forms the animals from the ground, bringing each to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called each living creature was then its name. Since none of these would be a suitable partner for the man the Lord formed another from the man’s rib, perhaps the bone closest to the core of man’s being, God’s last and ultimate creature. When the Lord brought her to the man, he rejoiced: “This one shall be called ‘woman,’ for out of man this one has been taken,” and the man gave his wife the name “Eve.” God blessed them and said to them: “Be fertile and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it. Have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and all the living things that crawl on the earth.

The man has sovereignty and dominion over the creatures he named. Parents, likewise, have authority over their children. As we heard last Sunday from the Book of Sirach, on the Feast of the Holy Family, “God sets a father in honor over his children; [and] a mother’s authority he confirms over her sons.” Both Joseph and Mary name Jesus on this eighth day after his birth and they exercise authority over the Child-God. “[Jesus] went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them.” All legitimate authority (in a family, a workplace, a government, or the Church) is to be exercised in accord with God’s will. And when authority is exercised in this way, we can expect the household, business, nation, or Church to thrive—provided that legitimate, godly authority is likewise obeyed in accord with God’s will. ‘Jesus went down with Joseph and Mary, and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and favor before God and man.’

Who have you been entrusted with authority over? For whom has God given you a mission to cultivate, protect, and care for as their Christ-like servant-leader? Recognize your mission, and exercise your authority in accord with God’s will as a blessing for others. And realize that those with spiritual authority over others (as you may have in your household) can literally bless them. Usually when we say “God bless you,” (that is, when we say this to a peer) we are not really blessing them ourselves but desiring, hoping, wishing, praying that God might bless them. As the Letter to the Hebrews says, “Unquestionably, a lesser person is blessed by a greater.” When we have spiritual authority for someone we can personally speak blessings upon them.

Words can not only encourage, but they also seem to have metaphysical power. Our first reading recounts how Aaron and his sons as priests of Israel were given authority to bless God’s people. The Old Testament patriarchs blessed their children and we see their words fulfilled. God creates and Jesus works miracles through spoken words; God said “let there be light” and there was light. Jesus said to the paralytic your sins are forgiven; stand up, pick up your mat, and go home, and the man was healed inside and out. Your words of blessing, in accord with God’s authority, can have great power, too.

[After preaching this homily last night, a parishioner shared with me that she and her husband learned about blessing and claiming dominion your household from friends a decade ago. They notice a difference in their family in their years of marriage before and after. For example, when she begins to fell minor health issues coming on, she asks for her husband’s blessing, and reports that she can “feel the power of his prayers.”]

So husbands, bless your wives and children, mothers bless your children, and bless your grandchildren, too. And on this first day of the year, ask God our Father and Holy Mary, the Mother of God and our spiritual mother too, to bless you and yours in this new year ahead.

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.

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.

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.

Catholic Twitter

October 16, 2019

Twitter.com is a social media website where both famous figures and less famous folks share their free thoughts of 280 characters or less. Pope Francis posts there daily (@Pontifex) alongside many other Catholics as well. There is a good deal of Catholic community, evangelization, and defenses of the Faith to be found on Twitter, depending on whom you follow. I recently came across a wonderful reflection by Fr. Dylan Schrader, a Catholic pastor in Missouri with a Ph.D. in systematic theology. @FrDylanSchrader wrote:

If the Catholic Church fulfills the figure of Noah’s Ark, then of course the Church is ridiculed and seems stupid, crazy, or like a waste of time to the world until all of a sudden we realize that it’s our only hope.” Like Jesus says in the Gospels, in the days before the Great Flood people were eating and drinking, marrying and given in marriage, up until the day that Noah entered the ark. They had disbelieved until the flood waters came, and it carried them all away. So it will be with the Second Coming of Christ.

Twitter allows threads of conversation and Fr. Schrader’s tweet was apparently replied to by a Protestant Christian who wrote: “CHRIST JESUS, alone, is the hope of a [C]hristian… if your hope is in a church, then your hope is misplaced.” Does the Church displace or minimize the Lord? To this, Fr. Schrader answered, “That’s like saying that it’s Noah who saves from the flood, not the Ark.” Indeed, Noah built his Ark and Jesus builds his Church. The Ark was God’s means to save a portion of humanity through Noah. Likewise, the Catholic Church is God’s means for saving the human race through Christ.

The Great Carpenter — Funeral for James “Jim” Rogge, 55

July 10, 2019

St. Matthew’s Gospel tells us that St. Joseph, the foster-father of Jesus, was a carpenter or craftsman by occupation. He supported his family, both wife and child, as a carpenter, a woodworker, or perhaps a mason, and a builder. And, as his son grew older, Joseph taught him his trade. We read in St. Mark’s Gospel that when Jesus returned to preach in his hometown, the people of Nazareth asked, “Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary?” Odds are that Jesus the Nazarene was personally well-familiar with the work of preparing timber for his uses.

Every log comes to be from a once-living tree, from a natural canopy or tent of foliage over the earth. But every round log to become fit for the craftsman’s purpose, such as to become a portion of his dwelling place, must be transformed from its original, natural, unfinished state. Before the advent of modern sawmills, this difficult task was done up-close, by hand. First, the rough, brittle, dead bark must be stripped away. In life, this bark served as a protective layer against our imperfect, trial-some world, but in this stripping process this layer is removed and discarded into the craftsman’s fire. From there, the log of wood is hewn (perhaps flattened, notched, or whittled down) to fit its intended purpose. When the carpenter desires to erect a building, each piece, each log or plank, is made to fit with its neighbors, so that the builder’s structure may stand solidly and harmoniously as one. And the greater the carpenter the greater the perfection they desire in their work.

Our Lord Jesus Christ is a carpenter. He is the greatest carpenter. And his work material is the wood of humanity; that is, you, and me, and Jim. The Lord would shape us as he has done with others since ancient times: laboring personally, up-close. As King David said in the psalm: “He guides me in right paths for his name sake. I fear no evil; for you are at my side.” But we build up layers of bark against him and the world, because we’re afraid to trust or we love our faults, yet Jesus doesn’t give up. Our rough, brittle, dead bark must be stripped away, in this life or hereafter.

We must allow Jesus to befriend us – it is supremely important that we befriend him – for as Daniel writes in our first reading and St. Paul in our second, a resurrection and a judgment awaits us all. But if we do befriend the Lord, “we know that [when] our earthly dwelling, a tent, should be destroyed, we have a building from God, a dwelling not made with hands, eternal in Heaven.” As St. Paul told the Ephesians, “Through him the whole structure is held together and grows into a temple sacred in the Lord; in him you also are being built together into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit.

You probably know of Jim’s faith in Jesus, of his strengths and his weaknesses. Pray for him, that he may be hewn and perfectly fitted with our brothers and sisters in Heaven. And today at this altar, renew your commitment to Christ, so that we and he may remain in the house of the Lord, the master craftsman, forever.

Consoling the New Jerusalem — 14th Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

July 8, 2019

This word of the Lord regarding Jerusalem was spoken through the Prophet Isaiah in our first reading:

“Thus says the LORD: Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad because of her, all you who love her; exult, exult with her, all you who were mourning over her! For thus says the LORD: Behold, I will spread prosperity over Jerusalem like a river. As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; in Jerusalem you shall find your comfort. When you see this, your heart shall rejoice and your bodies flourish like the grass; the LORD’s power shall be known to his servants.”

When reading Old Testament prophesies, the tone can really widely vary. Depending upon the particular century, the Lord’s message directed towards Jerusalem or the Israelites can be consoling, encouraging, promising good things to come; or denouncing, woeful, declaring punishments to follow. I find it really difficult to place our country and our present time amongst these Old Testament messages. I can imagine the people of our land being pleasing the Lord in many respects and I can see us meriting his correcting chastisement for other reasons. So do the consoling words of Isaiah apply to us? Let me explain how I think that they can.

In Old Testament times, Jerusalem, the holy city, was the place of God’s temple, his dwelling place on earth. But in 70 A.D., the Romans sieged Jerusalem and destroyed the temple leaving not one stone upon another, as Jesus had proselytized and foretold. In New Testament times, Jesus is the Temple. In John’s Gospel, Jesus tells a crowd, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up,” and John notes Jesus “speaking about the temple of his body.” The Body of Christ is the New Temple. The Christian understanding of Jerusalem changes, too. In the Book of Revelation, St. John beholds “the holy city, a new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.” John hears a loud voice from the throne say, “Behold, God’s dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them as their God.” So the New Temple is the Body of Christ. And the New Jerusalem is the Bride of Christ. Where is the Body of Christ now and where is his Bride? As New Testament Scriptures tell us, they are present on earth and in Heaven, as his Holy Church.

There are wounds and sufferings in the Body of Christ. This was personally true for Jesus on earth, and it is true for his members. In our second reading, St. Paul writes: “From now on, let no one make troubles for me; for I bear the marks of Jesus on my body.” Paul composed his letter in Greek, and here the Greek word for “marks” is literally “stigmata.” In the ancient world, slaves and devotees of pagan deities were often branded by marks called “stigmata” to indicate to whom they belonged, who they served or who was their god. In a Christian context, “stigmata” has come to mean the miraculous sign or gift of receiving the wounds of Christ, in one’s hands, feet, or side. St. Francis of Assisi experienced the stigmata near the end of his life, and St. Padre Pio bore Christ’s wounds in his hands for fifty years. But what St. Paul is describing in this passage is not necessarily that. In 2nd Corinthians, he enumerates the sufferings he had endured: “Five times at the hands of the Jews I received forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned…” St. Paul greatly suffered in Christ, but many wounds are not physical.

I hate that wolves in sheep’s clothing have hurt and scarred members of the Body of Christ, the Church. I hate that the Bride of Christ I love is denounced as something evil. Perhaps it has never been easy to be a Catholic, but it is hard to be a Catholic today. How are we going to respond? In today’s gospel, Jesus says, “Beg the master of the harvest [that is, God his Father] to send laborers into his harvest.” In other words, we should ask God to raise up saints. In the worst and hardest times in Church history, God has supplied holy saints. And he still lifts up saints in our modern times as well.

In the year 2010, a baby boy was born in Illinois with neither breath nor pulse. The parents prayed for the intercession of another native son of Illinois. That man had grown up in El Paso, Illinois, become a priest and eventually an archbishop, was an excellent preacher and author, and even won an Emmy for his highly-rated, prime-time, national TV show called “Life is Worth Living.” Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen died in 1979, but after praying for his help in saving their son’s life, after sixty-one minutes of no signs of life, their boy began to breathe and show a pulse. Today, James Fulton Engstrom is a fully healthy eight-year-old, and yesterday the Vatican officially announced that his inexplicable healing was a miracle, which clears the way for Archbishop’s Sheen’s beatification in the near future.

Fulton Sheen was a twentieth century saint, but God desires to raise up twenty-first century saints as well. And not just among others elsewhere, but among we ourselves. You and I likely never be beatified or canonized, but we are all called to be saints because we are all called to Heaven, and to begin living the life of Heaven here and now.

Notice how in today’s gospel, Jesus does not send out his missionaries one-by-one but in pairs. He told them to stick together, “stay in the same house.” Why? He wanted them to be a help, encouragements to each other, to be faithful and fruitful. Likewise, we have the fellowship of one another to help us become saints. And we have holy friends who know and love us to help us, the saints in Heaven. And we have our greatest friend who provides the means for our sanctification in himself, Jesus Christ. Let us become saints together. Then the words of Isaiah will be fulfilled among us. All who were mourning over Jerusalem will exult and all who love her will rejoice. In holiness the Lord’s power shall be known to his servants. And we will be comforted and flourish, in the New Jerusalem here on earth and in Heaven without end.

Mass Apparitions of Our Lord

June 26, 2019

So there’s Our Lady of Guadalupe, Our Lady of Lourdes, Our Lady of Knock, Our Lady of Fatima, and Our Lady of lots of places. Our Lady of the Rosary, Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal, Our Lady of Good Counsel, Our Lady of Good Help, Our Lady of Sorrows, Our Lady of Victory, Our Lady of Grace, Our Lady of Peace, and Our Lady of lots of other good things, too. When I was a kid, I didn’t realize that all these ladies were the same lady. But eventually I figured out that these were all titles of the Blessed Virgin Mary. With that confusion cleared up, I went on to wonder why there seems to be so many apparitions of Mother Mary throughout Church history and so few of her Son, Jesus Christ.

Sure, there are famous exceptions. In the 18th century, Jesus appeared to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque to invite devotion to his Sacred Heart. The month of June is now dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. And in the 20th century, St. Faustina Kowalska had visions of Jesus encouraging devotion to his Divine Mercy. As a result, the first Sunday after Easter is celebrated as Divine Mercy Sunday. But it’s usually Mary who we hear about appearing here or there around the world, encouraging people to repent, to listen to her Son’s words, and be saved.

So I wondered, “Why aren’t there more apparitions of Jesus in the world?” Eventually I figured out the reason: there’s an apparition of Jesus Christ at every Holy Mass. At every Mass, Jesus’ words are proclaimed. At every Mass, he works a miracle for us. At every Mass, his Real Presence come to us by the Eucharist. Compared to how frequently Jesus appears before us at Mass, Marian apparitions are the rarity.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus multiplies five loaves and two fish to feed more than five thousand people (and that’s just counting the men.) He has them sit in groups of about fifty, blesses and breaks the food, and hands it to his disciples to serve the people. They all eat and are satisfied, and the leftovers are more than Jesus had started with. The day after this amazing event (a miracle recounted by all four Gospels) St. John tells us that Jesus was in Capernaum, teaching in the synagogue about the Bread of Life:

I am the bread of life,” he said, “whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.” At this the Jews quarreled among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” And Jesus replied, “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day. …My flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him. …The one who feeds on me will have life because of me. …Whoever eats this bread will live forever.

The crowds were perplexed by this teaching and St. John notes that after this many of Jesus disciples left and no longer followed him. But Jesus doesn’t chase them down saying, “Come back, you misunderstood, I was only using a figure of speech.” Instead, he turns to his apostles and asks, “Do you also want to leave?” St. Peter, not understanding but trusting, replies, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” After the Last Supper, recounted by St. Paul in today’s second reading, the Early Church understood Jesus’ teaching. Multiplying five loaves into enough bread to feed thousands is a miracle, but Jesus’ far greater miracle is feeding the world with bread transformed into himself.

If someone asked you, “Are you an object? Are you a thing?” how would you answer? If someone asked me if I was an object, I’d say that I do have many qualities and traits of an object; I have size, and shape, and color, and weight. But an object or a thing can be bought or sold, used and discarded, held cheaply and treated cheaply. You and I are not merely objects or things, but persons; persons meant to be loved and to recognized as worthy of love. So much about our devotion is set right when we recognize that the Holy Eucharist is not merely an object but a person.

When we dress up for Sunday Mass, we dress up for him. When we sing as Mass, we’re singing for him. Unlike Judas, who took the morsel and left the Last Supper before it was over, we remain until the end of Mass because he is here. Sunday Mass in not merely an obligation, but an opportunity for encounter with him. And when we visit him (on Sundays, or at a weekday Mass, or just stopping by the church) he is please that we are here. In love, Jesus offers us a communion with himself through the Eucharist more intimate and profound than that shared by spouses. Our Eucharistic Lord wants us to behold him, recognize him, and rejoice to receive him. So, if a Christian ever asks you, “Have you personally received Jesus?” you can answer, “Yes, in my hand, on my tongue, into my body and blood, in my soul and in my heart, through the Most Holy Eucharist, which is his very self.

Princess Grace (née Kelly) of Monaco receives
the Holy Eucharist at her 1956 nuptial Mass

 

Returning to Dust & Rising From the Ashes

March 11, 2019

Funeral Homily for Daniel G. Zwiefelhofer
by Fr. Victor Feltes on March 7, 2019

The Fall of Mankind and Expulsion from Paradise
by Michelangelo on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel

Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” These words were heard many times yesterday on Ash Wednesday as ashes were applied to foreheads. There is another phrase the ash-bestowing minister can say, but “remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” is the classic option. Where does this phrase come from? It’s from the story of Genesis, following the Original Sin, the Fall of Man.

When Adam and Eve sinned in the Garden, punishments were placed on them and their descendants. To the woman God said, “I will intensify your toil in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children.” And to the man God said, “In toil you shall eat the ground’s yield all the days of your life. Thorns and thistles it shall bear for you, and you shall eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow you shall eat bread, until you return to the ground, from which you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” And God announced a punishment upon the wicked serpent too: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel.”

We still feel the consequences of sin and observe of the brokenness of our world. Birthing babies is painful and raising children is challenging. Daniel learned these truths firsthand alongside Marion. And, as a lifelong farmer, Daniel experienced firsthand that farming is hard work. Growing food, from beasts or fields, demands the sweat of one’s brow. And today, after eighty-one years of life on this earth, we gather for Daniel’s funeral; for we are dust, and to dust we return. If these things were all that we saw and knew we would be left in sad despair, but this is not the end of the story; for Genesis, for Daniel, or for us.

I mentioned earlier that there’s another phrase option for ash-distributors to say on Ash Wednesday: “Repent and believe in the Gospel.” The Gospel is a message of living hope and it was proclaimed from the beginning. The Church teaches that the Protoevangelium, or “First Gospel” promising salvation was announced in the Garden of Eden. Recall how God said to the serpent, in the presence of Adam and Eve: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel.” This is speaking to more than the natural hatred between humans and deadly snakes – it’s a prophesy. That “he,” the offspring of the woman, was to be Jesus. The ancient serpent, the devil, struck out at Jesus’ lowly flesh (as at Jesus’ heel) in the Passion. But Jesus the New Adam, triumphed through his Passion, death, and resurrection, crushing the enemy’s head.

Jesus is the New Adam. Tempted in a garden (the Garden of Gethsemane) Jesus did not falter. Called to lay down his wife for his bride (the Church) Jesus did not balk. And by the sweat of his brow (even sweating blood) he has provided her bread, in the Most Holy Eucharist, which is himself. He accepted a crown of thorns from a world turned against him, but by his toil of carrying his Cross Jesus has produced a fruitful yield on earth. Jesus was placed into the dust of the earth — entombed at death, but Jesus was not abandoned to the dustbin of history. The New Adam triumphs over death.

And the New Eve, his bride the Church, continues (with toil and pains, but also with joy) to bear forth children who live and die with faith in Christ, like Daniel. And, as Daniel’s prophetic namesake says in our first reading, “Those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake; and some shall live forever…” Likewise, in our second reading, St. Paul proclaims to the Thessalonians: “We do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose, so too will God, through Jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep.” The first Adam, by sinning, and gave death to all his descendants. But Jesus Christ, the new faithful Adam, offers life to all who follow him.

On Ash Wednesday and at any funeral, we are reminded that are dust and to dust we shall return. But we must also remember to repent and believe in the Good News of the Gospel. As night lead to dawn and sleep to arising; as winter leads to spring and Lent leads to Easter, so the dying of friends of Jesus leads to joyful resurrection.

Christ Calls in Ordinary Time

January 16, 2019

As [Jesus] passed by the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea; they were fishermen. Jesus said to them, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Then they left their nets and followed him.

— Mark 1:16-18

A remarkable thing about this calling of Simon Peter and Andrew is its ordinariness. The pair are not called through a vision or by angels. Mark mentions no miracles performed there on the shore. We know from John’s Gospel that they have met this rabbi before. Jesus simply tells them to follow him.

This call does not happen on a Jewish holy day, in the Temple, or in a palace, nor at Jerusalem or Rome. (The region of Galilee was an unesteemed place for the Jews and doubly so for the Romans.) Simon and Andrew are not clergy nor scholars, neither governors nor generals. They’re fishermen who work nights doing manual labor. They’re not on spiritual retreat or pilgrimage, they haven’t journeyed for days to a holy mountain of God. Yet Christ walks up to them and calls these two brothers during an ordinary day at their place of work.

Jesus Christ the God-Man does extraordinary things through the ordinary. He makes use of water for his baptism, bread for his Eucharist, and human pairing to reveal his loving union with the Church. He uses our human words to communicate God’s Word in the most published book on earth. He dwells (and waits) for us in every Catholic tabernacle. He makes himself so accessible that, if we are unattentive to him, we can disregard his presence and graces amidst familiar things.

Ordinary Time has returned in the Church. Though not a “special” season like Advent, Lent, Christmas, or Easter, its name does not derive from a lack of value but from the ordinal numbers which count its weeks (1st, 2nd, 3rd, etc.) The color of this time is green because it is a season for our ongoing growth. So let us follow the Christ who greets and calls us like Simon Peter and Andrew even in Ordinary Time.

A Christmas Funeral

December 29, 2018

Funeral Homily for Marie Clark

There is an understandable and natural sadness felt in the passing of a well-loved mother, sister, aunt, grandma, and  great-grandmother like Marie in any season of the year. But a funeral like this, so close to Christmas, can feel strange as well. Perhaps I have forgotten but I can’t remember — in almost a decade of priesthood — ever offering a funeral Mass so close to the celebration of Jesus’ birth, with Christmas trees still in the sanctuary. And yet, this is not so strange as it may seem, for the birth of Jesus the Christ bears many connections with and foreshadowings of his death:

Jesus’ birthplace, a stable, was actually a cave. His burial-place, his tomb, was a cave as well.

The first cave was prepared by Joseph, the poor carpenter from Nazareth. The second cave was also prepared by a Joseph, a rich man from Arimathea.

At his birth, Mary wrapped Jesus’ body tightly in cloths for swaddling clothes. At his death, Mary also wrapped Jesus’ body, in linen cloth, for a burial shroud.

She placed his body in a manger, a feed-box for grain. He would give his own body as food, feeding his flock with his flesh and blood.

Who first heard the news of Jesus’ birth? It was shepherds in the fields outside Bethlehem. From Bethlehem’s flocks the lambs were provided for sacrifice at the Temple in Jerusalem about 5½ miles away. Jesus is the Lamb of God who was born to die as a sacrifice to take away our sins.

The Christmas trees in our sanctuary are evergreen and gloriously-lighted. Contrast that to the wood of the Cross, stark and dead, where we see the starkness of death in Christ crucified. Yet the cross bears the Light of the World, for Jesus says, “I am the Light of the World.” Life flows from this tree.

The Church, in these days following Christmas, celebrates a series of martyrs. The day after Christmas is the feast of St. Stephen, the first martyr after Jesus’ Ascension. Tomorrow, it’s St. Thomas Becket, a bishop martyred more than a millennium later. Today, it’s the Holy Infants of Bethlehem, who died unknowingly for Christ, but who the Church has long-celebrated as martyrs. We can fittingly celebrate the martyrs or even a funeral so close to Christmas because the birth of Jesus Christ has great and vast implications for life and death.

As we heard in our first reading, “If before men, indeed they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality. … They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction, and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace.” So, even in the dark valleys of life, we are courageous (as St. Paul twice declares in the second reading) for the Lord who died and rose is our shepherd. “Even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil; for you are at my side.” And this is our Gospel: ‘this is the will of the Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and Jesus shall raise them on the last day.’

Pray for Marie’s soul, as is fitting and right, but be courageous and even joyful through the sadness; for at Christmas we see:

Christ, by highest heaven adored,
Christ, the everlasting Lord.
Late in time behold he comes,
offspring of the Virgin’s womb.

Mild he lays his glory by,
born that we no more may die,
born to raise us from the earth,
born to give us second birth.

With the herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn King.”