Archive for the ‘Saintly People’ Category

How we Know the Magi Arrived Later (and What That Means for Us)

January 2, 2022

Feast of the Epiphany

Did you notice that our three wise men statues arrived in our manger scene only on this Sunday of the Epiphany? That’s because the Magi were not in Bethlehem on Christmas Day. In many movies and imaginations, the visit of the shepherds and the arrival of the Magi get smushed together as events of the same night. St. Luke’s Gospel recalls Jesus being wrapped and laid in a feedbox and speaks about the shepherds, but St. Matthew’s Gospel tells us the Magis’ tale with several signs that the Magi came quite a bit later.

For starters, the Magi arrive in Jerusalem after their long journey from the east expecting that the new king has already been born. “Where is the newborn king of the Jews?” they ask. “We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” Once Herod had “ascertained from them the time of the star’s appearance” and had learned from the Jewish chief priests and scribes where the Christ was to be born, the wicked king sent the Magi to Bethlehem.

St. Matthew says “on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother.” There’s no mention of a cave or stable; it appears that the Holy Family has moved into better lodgings since Jesus’ birth. The Magi “prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” This happy encounter occurs at least forty days after Christmas. We know this because of a detail from the Gospel of Luke.

According to the Law of the Old Covenant, a Jewish woman who had given birth was required to wait a certain number of days and then provide sacrifices at the temple. For a baby boy, the mother had to wait at least forty days, then she was to bring the priest two animals for sacrifice; namely, a one-year-old lamb and either a turtledove or a pigeon. However, if she could not afford the lamb, God’s Law allowed her to just offer either two turtledoves or two pigeons instead.

St. Luke indicates that for Jesus’ Presentation at the Temple, after the completion of those forty days, Mary and Joseph were poor enough to take that second option, offering “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons in accordance with the dictate in the law of the Lord.” If the Magi had already visited, the Holy Family would have had some gold for buying a lamb. But Mary and Joseph did not have that gift because the Magi had not yet come. In fact, what King Herod goes on to do suggests it could have been more than a year later before the Magi arrived.

When Herod realizes the Magi have evaded him (for they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod) the paranoid and ruthless king does a horrifically evil thing. He orders that all the baby boys in Bethlehem – not just newborns but all those two years old and younger – be killed. This suggests King Herod thought the baby which the Magi sought could already be up to one or two years old.

The Magi arrive at our manger scene today on Epiphany Sunday because the Gospels show they celebrated the birth of Jesus Christ together with his Holy Family a time after Christmas Day. It’s interesting to learn about the Gospels and the life and times of Jesus, but collecting bits of biblical or historical trivia is not the point. What significance does the Magis’ later arrival have for our lives as Christians? One thing it means for Christ’s Church is that Christmas is not just a one day event but a whole season to celebrate.

What happens in our world on December 26th or 27th? Lots of people take down their decorations and throw out their Christmas trees. The Christmas songs played since before Thanksgiving disappear from the radio. Mentions of Christmas vanish from mass media because the opportunity to sell things to people has passed. Our secular culture uses Advent as its Christmas season, filling it with stressful hustling and hassles like Joseph and Mary experienced preceding Jesus’ birth. That birth is allowed one day of restful, spiritual, joyful peace and then the event is over. But for Catholics and Christians of times past, Christmas Eve is not the beginning of the end of Christmas, but the start of the Christmas Season. We are in that season now, decked in the liturgical color of white through the third Sunday after December 25th, the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, which is next Sunday.

Beware of taking too many cues from the world of Herod, whose interests in Christmas are not pure. Let us learn instead from the Magi about celebrating this season. They come after Christmas day but are still “overjoyed” to celebrate his birth. They come to him, honor him, savor their time with him. They rest with him at Bethlehem. It appears the Magi did not come and leave in just one day, but were able to be warned in a dream not to return to Herod because they chose to rest with Christ and his Holy Family.

Living differently for Christ bears unexpected blessings and benefits. For instance, my good friend Katie told me yesterday that she gets a Christmas tree and puts it up on Christmas Eve. Doing it this way not only helps keep the whole season special but she gets a tree each year for free. (By that point, Christmas tree sellers are just happy to have her take one away.) Imagine no longer having to fit everything that is Christmas into the month of December. Like the Magi, you can plan trips and gatherings for after Christmas Day.

There’s still one week of Christmas left this year. Make a plan to keep it special. Play and sing your Christmas songs. Keep on feasting. Create some fun. And think of how next year you and yours can celebrate throughout the entire Christmas season. Like the Magi before you, let how you celebrate Christmas be guided by heavenly light.

Bringing Christ to Others — Funeral Homily for Loretta Logslett, 89

December 30, 2021

Loretta has been a faithful St. John the Baptist parishioner for very many years. Meeting our Lord Jesus Christ at his churches like this one was Loretta’s priority. Her son, Dean, says that she would leave a party early to attend a Sunday Mass, to contemplate and gaze upon Christ’s loveliness in his house and temple as today’s psalm says, before returning to the party after. In 1955, she married Julian here, her loving husband for 55 years. Today, Loretta shall be buried from here, and entrusted to her loving Lord forever.

Since 1977 she has worked at the Colfax Health and Rehabilitation Center as a nutrition cook. Her coworkers say that she provided them with generous food portions. But Loretta always knew that we do not live on bread alone. Residents in nursing homes often have limited mobility. Health and transportation problems prevent them from coming to church for Mass like they used to, and they miss it. They miss visiting that holy place of contact, they miss that sacred encounter, and they may feel separated from the Lord. But as St. Paul asks, what can ever separate us from Christ’s love? He who died for us, who was raised for us, and who sits at God’s right hand and intercedes for us, sends us help and consolation. Jesus sent Loretta to that nursing home not only to feed bodies but also to feed souls.

Loretta brought to its residents Jesus in the Holy Eucharist – the Sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood – the food which gives eternal life. On days when a priest could come for monthly Mass there, Loretta helped set up the room for the celebration, she brought residents to the altar in their wheelchairs, and proclaimed the scripture readings. And throughout the week, she was a pleasant, joyful presence. She would visit residents in their rooms, genuinely befriend them, and pray the Rosary with them. Loretta’s coworker, Robert Johnson, reflected and shared that Loretta may have personally inspired among them some conversions to Christ and his Church. They were not able to make the trip to Jesus, so Jesus came to them in, with, and through Loretta.

These are things we would expect to see in someone very close to the Lord: a consuming desire to see him and be with him, a longing wish that others would know and love him too, a living reflection of his goodness and love in everything one does. Here today, we offer the greatest prayer of Christ’s Church, the Holy Mass, to aid Loretta on her journey to God and to comfort and strengthen us who remain here. On this day of hope and mourning, on this day of reflecting on the past and of looking forward to tomorrow let us ask our Lord Jesus Christ to increase our Christian devotion, to purify our love for him, to make us truly grateful for his gifts, to make us faithful, like Loretta.

Keeping the Faith During Trying Times

December 25, 2021

Feast of The Holy Family
By Deacon Dick Kostner

“Mary, did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?  Mary, did you know that your baby boy would one day rule the nations?  Did you know that your baby boy is Heaven’s perfect Lamb?  That sleeping child you’re holding is the great “I Am“?

The answer to the lyrics just quoted from the popular Christmas Song “Mary did you know?” is “No! Not everything,” according to Pope John Paul II. She did not know everything at once and it is displayed in our gospel proclaimed in today’s Liturgy.

The morning I began to prepare for this homily I saw some very disturbing statistics from an article in The Wall Street Journal. Americans who pray daily was 58% in 2007, this dropped to 45% in 2021; Americans who identified themselves as Christians was 78% in 2007, in 2021 this dropped to 63%. This downward trend began long before COVID but increased during the pandemic. At our own parish we have experienced a substantial decline in attendance at Sunday Mass, especially family attendance. Other parishes have had similar declines.

So what’s going on? Our gospel displays to us the problem but it also gives us the answer to the problem. The problem is rooted in both mental and physical sufferings that are a part of the human experience. Sacred Scripture lays it out very well. Humans get sick, go blind, struggle with raising children, have disagreements with spouses and family, and yes the big one, death and when we pray for help we expect results not tomorrow but right now. All of these were experienced by Jesus the big question is: “Why?” The answer is a mystery we are incapable of understanding, but God did gift us with how we can get through these sufferings and anxieties when he sent His Son to experience these struggles and to supply us with the cure, and that is faith that the Father loves us, His Holy Family, and has a plan for us to follow and find happiness even while suffering, through His Holy Spirit and His Holy Family. The problem is our world has become secularized. Secularization is the process of removing religious and moral influence from our society. The significance of God and the Holy Family in our world is looked down upon and is been reduced.

Lets reflect on our Gospel this Feast of the Holy Family, and “Mary did you know?”. Humans are wired by our creator to care for and protect children we are blessed with. Mary was no exception and when her and Joseph realized Jesus was missing and days had passed panic hit them. They backtracked and found Jesus in the temple listening to the elders and conversing with them. They were upset and asked why Jesus had not told them where he was going. His reply was that he thought they would know that he was going to His fathers house. And then we are told that Mary and Joseph “did not understand what he said to them.” Thus we are given the answer to some of the songs questions of her that she did not know. But then we are told that Mary “kept all these things in her heart.” and thus she reflected upon her son’s words and she came to understand that Jesus had assumed she knew his vocation, to learn and be involved with public ministry. Jesus also realized they did not know this and felt sorry for not telling them his plans to visit his Fathers house, for we are told that “Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and favor before God and man and was there after obedient to them.”

Jesus made a mistake for causing anxieties to his Mother and his step father and corrected his behavior and honored his human parents. This is the guide line for human families becoming members of the Holy Family. They care for and correct mistakes they make within their Holy Family relationships and its members.

Being human will carry with it sufferings. There will be mistakes that we will make as members of the Holy Family that will cause not only us but other members of God’s family to suffer. We are called to reflect upon our mistakes and make corrections to assure those we have caused to suffer that this will not happen again. We are called by God to place other members of the family of Jesus ahead of ourselves when we realize that others need our help and support as Jesus, Mary and Joseph have taught us, by reflecting on our actions and praying to the Father for wisdom and direction in helping our brothers and sisters overcome their sufferings and anxieties of life.

Like Mary, there are many questions in life we don’t know answers to. It is faith that allows us to trust that the Father knows our fears and anxieties and will answer us through His Holy Family when the time is right, for as told to us by God we are to look to His Holy Family and the Word for help and guidance and as far as fear, He tells us: “Be still and know that I AM!

Learning from the Angels

December 24, 2021

Christmas, the Nativity of the Lord

It can be an alarming experience to encounter an angel. Their presence is typically veiled to us but once revealed to our human perception angels radiate such mightiness, holiness, and otherworldliness, that often the first thing they say upon appearing is: “Do not be afraid.” So it was on the first Christmas night in the fields outside the little town of Bethlehem where the shepherds kept watch over their flock.

A heavenly angel appeared to them, the Lord’s glory shone around them, and the shepherds were utterly terrified. But the herald angel said, “Do not be afraid… I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. …Today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.” The angel then gave them a sign to look for, to know that they had found the newborn king: “You will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” Suddenly, a whole multitude of angels appeared, praising God and saying: “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests!” When the angels departed the shepherds were seemingly alone once more in the dark and quiet field.

Like the gospel two weeks ago about St. John the Baptist’s preaching, what strikes me about the angels’ proclamation is what the shepherds are not told to do. The Holy Family was very poor, but the shepherds are not told to bring them coins. The cave-stable in which Jesus laid was probably dirty like a barn, but the shepherds are not told to bring him a broom or clean blankets. Jesus’ parents had had a long day, but the shepherds are not told to bring them a meal. Any of these things would have been good gifts, but none of them were the most important thing. The angels invited the shepherds to bring themselves to Jesus; to approach him, see him, know him, love him, honor him; to come and encounter him, to come and adore him. This is the greatest gift.

Jesus Christ had only just been born on earth but the angels had already met the eternal Son of God in heaven. Through him all things were made, including the angels. The angels knew him from the start of their existence and in highest heaven they adored him constantly beholding his unveiled glory. In this, the angels seem to have an advantage compared to us. We see God’s creations, but they see the Craftsman. We see his effects, but they see the Source. We see his works which reflect his glory, but they see his glory directly. At Jesus’ birth, we see the Godhead veiled in flesh, lying in the manger. At his Holy Mass, we see Jesus Christ in the Eucharist, veiled in the appearances of bread and wine. Every good and beautiful thing you have ever enjoyed has its existence from him who is the most real, the most delightful, the greatest and best of all. And yet, for us human beings, God is easy to overlook.

If an angel had not visited the shepherds they would not have realized that they were within walking distance of their Savior, Messiah, and Lord. But once the angels had proclaimed the message and went away from them to heaven, the shepherds turned and said to one another, “Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us!” The shepherds left in haste, but imagine if… they had chosen not to go. The shepherds could have chosen not to go into Bethlehem. Nobody was forcing them to visit the Holy Family. They could have ignored Jesus and stayed away from him. Many people do.

The angels, in their beginning, once faced a choice like this themselves: would they love and adore and serve the Lord or would they disregard him, rejecting him and his reign? Would they love him or not? Would they worship God or themselves? The spirits who chose well are called the angels. The spirits who chose badly are called the demons. Ever since that decisive decision, the angels have loved and worshipped the Lord and been rightly ordered and thriving in his will, while the demons who refused to love and worship him have been disordered and depraved through and through.

Worship and love are linked. We worship what we love most, and that impacts our relationships to other things for good or ill. Imagine a child on Christmas morning who excitedly unwraps a new and coveted toy which, for a while, they love more than anything on earth. Will they remember to thank Mom and Dad who gifted it, or be too distracted to show gratitude? Will they be willing to share the toy with their brothers and sisters, or resent and fight against anyone who wants it? Will they draw closer to their family, or isolate to be alone with their most precious possession? Will they be delighted by that toy forever, or feel disappointment when it does not provide happiness unending? As adults, our coveted toys, our disordered loves, take different forms but lead to similar results. To love God as our greatest good and worship him with thanksgiving, praise, and openness to grace, are essential for us to love him and people and things like we should.

For the first Christmas, the angels’ gift to Jesus Christ was worship: “Glory to God in the highest!” And the angels’ gift to the human race was an invitation for us to do the same. As God’s messenger to you this sacred day, I invite and urge you to return to this church soon to faithfully encounter and adore your Savior, Christ, and Lord.

Squandered Gifts?

December 19, 2021

4th Sunday of Advent
By Deacon Matthew Bowe

This past week was finals week at the seminary. Many of my seminary brothers were busily writing papers and completing oral and written exams. Hours were spent with noses in the books and eyes staring at the screen. Stress and frantic work were abundant. I suffered.

Before you have any pity for me, I should confess the whole truth. After my one class Friday morning, which was only fifty minutes, I was mostly done. I only had a ten-minute oral exam to complete for the Eucharist class. I was on break mode since Friday at ten A.M., yet we were not allowed to depart from the seminary until after our final class on Tuesday. Some of my brothers went to class on Monday and Tuesday. I did not. I have not stressed about schoolwork for over a week, and I had plenty of time to work on my thesis and play fun activities with my friends. How, then, did I suffer?

Well, two of my closest friends, with whom I wanted to spend time, had a ton of work yet to do. They are procrastinators, poor planners, and undisciplined and unmotivated toward academic matters. Having an abundance of work left at the end of the semester is a common occurrence for them. Anyway, I suffered because they did not have time for me. I wanted to give them some of my time to be with them and to partake in shared activities. I understood that they had work to do. However, they mentioned that they were going to work on things sooner, yet they never did. They said that we could not watch a television show together because of the work that they had to do, yet I saw them sleep in, take naps, play video games, and watch television at other times. I was hurt because I felt left out. The message from this story is that our actions and our inactions can affect others in profound ways unbeknownst to us. We can be oblivious and passive to the passing moments in our lives. We can hurt others and not know it.

Please do not be hard on my friends, for I forgive them. Please do not have pity on me, for it was good spiritual growth. I tell this story to set up the message of my homily. In our humanness, we let many gifts and graces pass by in our lives. In our relationship with God, we are like my friends. I am like my friends to others and to God. How often do we squander the gifts that God gives us by casting them aside like pearls before swine? We look at God’s gifts and say, “Thanks, but no.” Then, we do our own thing not realizing that God had just given us the very thing that was necessary. It could have been an invitation to prayer, the grace that we needed to endure a hardship, a kind word to speak to another, or other good things. Why do we forsake heavenly things for the passing things of this world?

Yet, squandering gifts is not even my message, but it serves as a foil, as a contrast, for my main message. I want to talk about someone who never squandered one of God’s gifts. Glory to God that Mary, our Blessed Virgin Mother, never squandered a gift from God. In her immaculate and virginal heart, which magnifies the glory of the Lord, Mary perfectly received the angel Gabriel’s message. Her response and disposition were receptive – “Behold, the handmaid of the Lord, may it be done according to thy word.” Then, she received the Word Himself in her spotless womb. This gift of the Son was not for Mary alone, but the Savior came to redeem all nations back to God. Thanks be to God for Mary’s fiat, her “yes,” for the world gained the Savior of all Mankind.

Besides Mary’s disposition to receiving God and her freedom and openness to say yes to God’s will, Mary also exemplifies the love owed to a neighbor. She went into the hill country, around a ninety-mile journey from Nazareth, to rejoice with her cousin Elizabeth, who was once barren. Mary recognized that she had a duty to care for her cousin as her cousin progressed through her pregnancy. From this humble act of charity, another divine purpose would be served. Mary went to Elizabeth, and Jesus went to John. Jesus went to anoint John so that John would be ready to be the forerunner-prophet for the Christ. Whereas Mary and Elizabeth exchange greetings in a human way, Jesus and John exchange greetings in a spiritual way. Elizabeth heard the greeting first, but John experienced the grace from within Mary’s womb, leapt in Elizabeth’s womb, and filled Elizabeth with the Spirit. This prompts Elizabeth to praise Mary, who is “blessed among women” and is the “mother of my Lord.” Mary is first praised by an angel, and now she is praised by a woman. Even today, Mary is praised by the hosts of angels and by all the faithful in heaven and on earth.

Now, my brothers and sisters in Christ, we must continue to wait to hear more of the story. We must wait a little long to hear how the prophecy of Micah is fulfilled, when the “one who is to be ruler in Israel” comes forth. Mary will give birth to the One who shall stand firm and shepherd his flock, who will shepherd us. The King of Peace will come. Until that time, let us heed the words from the Letter to the Hebrews. The Lord wants us, and He wants the offering of our hearts. Jesus obeyed the Father’s will and offered His body once for all. Christmas does not stand apart from the Passion and Resurrection. Christmas points to Easter. The Son of God came to die for our sins. The old saying goes “from the wood of the manger to the wood of the Cross.” We hear in the opening prayer that we may “by His Passion and Cross be brought to the glory of His Resurrection.” But the Death is still awhile away, so let us prepare for His Birth.

There is one week left until Christmas. Let us intensify our spiritual sacrifices and penances to clear room in our hearts to receive the newborn King. Let us renew our vigilant waiting for the birth of our blessed Lord. Mary is very pregnant now; she is about to pop, as they say. We have seen mothers who are in their final days of pregnancy before the delivery. There is excitement in the eager and anxious anticipation of the newborn babe. St. John the Baptist announced the presence of Jesus by leaping in the womb of Elizabeth. Let us prepare our hearts to leap with joy with the presence of the newborn King on Christmas Day.

Christmas, Unlike We Envisioned It — Funeral Homily for Dr. S. Ann Hartlage-Feltes, 79

December 16, 2021

Ann and Larry realized something was gravely wrong during their recent vacation abroad. She was experiencing persistent and unexplained fatigue and shortness of breath. Just some forty days later, the cancer present and growing within her ended her earthly life. It’s stunning, it’s shocking, that a woman we know as being so energetically alive could pass away from us so quickly. As a good and faithful spouse to Larry after James’ passing, as a loving, caring mother to David, Kristin, and Ken, as a devoted, attentive grandma to her grandkids, as a dedicated psychologist to the clients and couples she served, as someone known and loved by us, her death creates a painful absence. How strange, how jarring, how incongruous it is, to be having her funeral now – so very close to Christmas. At a time for togetherness, we’re separated. In a season celebrating heavenly peace, we’re unsettled here on earth. Christmas joy, veiled by dismay. This is not how we imagine Christmas to be. And yet… the first Christmas was troubled too.

About fifteen months before the first Christmas, when Zachariah exited the temple sanctuary after having encountered an angel, he made excited, mute gestures to the people. Some concluded that he had seen vision but Zachariah was unable to speak or hear for many months. His wife, Elizabeth, may have worried whether her beloved suffered a stroke. Would he ever speak again? Then Elizabeth herself began to be unwell. She felt nauseous every day and noticed her abdomen expanding. Could she “who was called barren” somehow be pregnant, or was something gravely wrong?

Nine months before the first Christmas, the Blessed Virgin Mary gave her “Yes” to God’s plan at the Annunciation in Nazareth. An angel told Mary she would become the mother of the Messiah, but many details about her future remained hidden from her. Would her husband. Joseph, believe her when she told him? Would he become angry or afraid and decide to leave her? Joseph came very close to erroring and divorcing Mary, either because he judged her unworthy of him or because, believing her, he thought himself unworthy of her. After a torturous time of doubt and uncertainty, an angel visited Joseph in a dream and got him back on the right track.

Joseph resolved to be the very best protector and provider to Mary and her Holy Child that he could be. So imagine his great frustration that first Christmas night, consider his distress at being unable to find a proper place for Mary’s labor and Jesus’ birth; only an unclean cave with a feed trough for a crib. The first Christmas and the events leading up to it were not easy for the people who lived them. Their times were troubled, with hardships and fears. But in the end, now looking back, the accomplishment of God’s loving plan for them was more beautiful than any of them would have imagined.

See what God did for these saints of his who suffered: St. Elizabeth was not sick and dying but with child, carrying the forerunner of the Christ. St. Zachariah would regain his voice and rejoice in their firstborn son, St. John the Baptist. St. Mary would never be abandoned, but was lovingly cared for through it all. And St. Joseph succeeded in his mission to be the best father on earth. Jesus Christ’s birth in a stable was not an accident, not a divine oversight, but according to God’s plan. Their stories are a sign for us, a lesson for our lives. The Scriptures repeatedly tell us to hope in God and the good things to come.

The author of today’s first reading laments, “My soul is deprived of peace, I have forgotten what happiness is,” yet the prophet does not despair. “The favors of the Lord are not exhausted, his mercies are not spent. … Good is the Lord to one who waits for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good to hope in silence for the saving help of the Lord.” St. John tells us in our second reading: “The way we came to know love was that [Jesus] laid down his life for us.” Our Lord faced dying so bravely because he knew not even death would end God the Father’s blessings toward him.

Today we gather in this famous and beautiful cathedral to offer the Church’s greatest prayer, the Holy Mass, for Ann’s soul and our consolation. She and Larry have been parishioners here at Holy Name for years, attending Sunday Mass and sometimes weekday Masses, too. From this altar, Ann received her Lord, his Body and Blood, his Soul and Divinity, his living and entire Self, in the Holy Eucharist. Jesus says in our Gospel, “My Flesh is true food and my Blood is true drink… Whoever eats my Flesh and drinks my Blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.” Today, we remember and are consoled by Jesus’ promise to Ann and us: “Whoever eats this bread will live forever.

Because of Ann’s parting, this Christmas will not be as we envisioned. But we are consoled by the truth that even amid these trials God is accomplishing his loving plan for us, a plan which is more beautiful than we can now imagine.

“What Should We Do?”

December 12, 2021

3rd Sunday of Advent

Despite the complications of the heavy storm, the family still decided to come. They came to St. Paul’s Friday evening to have their children baptized: a nearly three-year-old boy and a six-year-old girl. Afterwards, I asked the daughter what it was like to get baptized. She answered, “It felt like Jesus was in my heart.” Truly and beautifully, that’s what baptism does. Through simple water and simple words, new Christians are born with Christ living within them.

Large crowds came to St. John the Baptist to be baptized by him in the Jordan River as they confessed their sins. Now this was neither sacramental baptism nor sacramental confession but a preparation for what was next. John the Baptist preached that he was sent by God to prepare his people for the coming of the Messiah. Regular folks, and tax collectors, and soldiers all asked this forerunner of the Christ: “What should we do? Teacher, Rabbi, what should we do?” And what really strikes me about John the Baptist’s answers is what John the Baptist doesn’t say.

He does not say, “Give all your food and clothing away.” He says to the crowds, “Whoever has two cloaks should share with the person who has none. And whoever has food should do likewise.” He does not say to servants of King Herod and Caesar, “Abandon your posts and revolt against your rulers.” He says to the tax collectors, “Stop collecting more than what is prescribed,” and to the soldiers, “Do not practice extortion, do not falsely accuse anyone, and be satisfied with your wages.” The plan of God is to change the world by transforming individuals within the world.

John does not send people on a complicated, epic quest. They can begin doing what they need to do to prepare for Christ’s coming immediately where they’re at. John instructs them and us to do simple things: share with the needy as you are able, stop stealing, stop lying, and stop coveting what others have. These acts belong to basic justice: treating other people at least as well as you ought to be treated yourself.

Can Jesus Christ call us from this to more advanced discipleship? To sacrifice for the Kingdom of God? To suffer for the sake of righteousness? To embrace poverty, or celibacy, or radical obedience? To take solemn vows like the retired religious whose special collection is this weekend? Certainly! The Old Covenant teaches lessons for walking in justice while Christ’s New Covenant goes further, as with the Beatitudes. However, we must walk with the Lord before we can run with the Lord.

Do you grumble, discontent with what you have? Do you deceive, not always speaking what is true? Do you take what is not yours to take, or keep what is not yours to keep? Do you fail to share what is your surplus with others in need? Then you know what you should do this Advent to prepare for the Christmas coming of Christ. Convert more space in your heart for Jesus that he may fully live in you and you may fully live in him.

Jesus Chose Them for Each Other, for Himself, & for Us

December 8, 2021

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception

This December 8th unites two of our greatest saints: the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph. Today we celebrate both the Immaculate Conception and the conclusion to the Year of St. Joseph. Our Lady, under the title of “The Immaculate Conception,” is the patroness of our country. And Joseph, under the title of “St. Joseph the Workman.” is the primary patron of our diocese. Last year, our Bishop William Callahan proclaimed a year dedicated to St. Joseph beginning May 1st. Then, last December 8th, Pope Francis unexpectedly announced a Year of St. Joseph for the entire Church worldwide. As a result of this, our diocesan celebration of this Year of St. Joseph is the longest in the world: 19 months and 8 days in full. And this is very fitting, since our diocesan patron’s name, “Joseph,” means “he will increase.”

How beautiful it is that this date brings together Mary and Joseph! He, the noble head of the Holy Family; and she, the Immaculate Heart of their home He, her chaste guardian; and she, his loving spouse. Both are absolutely faithful and obedient, courageous and righteous. And both of them were chosen by God, chosen for each other, and chosen for Christ. Mary became Jesus’ loving mother and Joseph became Jesus’ nurturing foster-father. God chose them “before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him.” Our Lord Jesus Christ chose them for himself and he also chose them for us.

Does Jesus get jealous at the Church celebrating Mary and Joseph? Does our Catholic devotion to Mary or Joseph detract from devotion we ought to have for Christ? In his recent book, “Consecration to St. Joseph,” Fr. Donald Calloway answers: “What brother would be offended if his younger siblings expressed love towards their mother and father? What man would be upset if another person wrote a song about his mother or placed roses at her feet? Likewise, what son would be disturbed if someone praised the virtues of his father? A person who honored a father would not receive condemnation from the father’s son. On the contrary, such a person would receive praise and tremendous favors from the son.” I would add that love in a family is not a zero-sum game, but that healthy love makes love grow larger. Devotion to Mary and Joseph does not make us love Jesus less, but helps us love him more.

Jesus has not diminished these parents who cared for him on earth. He has exalted and shared them with us. He has made his mother the mother of all Christians. Like the first Eve who “became the mother of all the living,” Mary is the spiritual mother to all those alive in Christ. He has made his foster-father Joseph, who successfully safeguarded the Holy Family through its trials, spiritual protector of the universal Church And ‘never was it known that anyone who fled to their protection, implored their help, or sought their intercession was left unaided.’ So be sure to befriend St. Mary and St. Joseph. Jesus loves them dearly and they aided him on earth. He wills that you would know them, and love them, and be helped by them through this life, too, by their powerful, loving care.

Her Last Rites — Funeral Homily for Jeanette “Ginny” Kelly, 92

November 8, 2021

All of you who know Jeanette have a sense of the great woman she is. Perhaps you know her as a wonderful mother, who, when asked by any one of her eight children “Do you love me better than everybody else?” would honestly and beautifully reply, “I love you in a special way, just like all your siblings.” Or perhaps you know her as a faithful aunt, grandmother, great grandmother, or friend, whose joy and optimism always shone forth, and who, when she spoke to you, regarded you as if you were the most important person in the world.

She’s the kind of woman who some fifty years ago, when a petition went around her Connecticut neighborhood trying to run minority households out of town, refused to sign based upon firm Christian conviction, strongly rebuked the very idea, and befriended black families to help them feel more welcome there. She’s the kind of woman who felt very sad after her beloved husband Richard’s death in 1998 but, rather than turning-in on herself, intentionally looked around for others in need, volunteering and mentoring. I would bet that each of us here who knows Jeanette has a story about her, and I hope that you would recount them to one another. Today, I would like to share with you a story of mine about something God did for her less than twenty-four hours before she passed.

Ordinarily, on Tuesday afternoons, I visit Dove Nursing Home, where Jeanette has lived in recent years. But before last Tuesday, I had not been there for eight weeks. The facility had been on lockdown due to Covid and November 2nd was my first time back to celebrate Mass for the residents. After Mass, by providence, I was tipped off that Jeanette could use a room visit. I had previously given her the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, but I was informed her condition had declined since then. After seeing her, praying for her, and blessing her, I realized that it was now time for Jeanette to receive Last Rites. I fetched my ritual book and holy oil from my car and returned to her that hour. Jeanette knew that I was there because once I began she made a feeble Sign of the Cross and weakly said, “Amen.” The highlights of the Last Rites feature the Apostolic Pardon, the Anointing, the Litany of the Saints, and the Final Commendation.

First, I pronounced over Jeanette the Apostolic Pardon:

“Through the holy mysteries of our redemption may almighty God release you from all punishments in this life and in the life to come. May he open to you the gates of paradise and welcome you to everlasting joy. … By the authority which the Apostolic See has given me, I grant you a full pardon and the remission of all your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

On the first Easter Sunday evening, the Risen Jesus appeared to his apostles in the Upper Room saying, “Peace be with you… Peace be with you.” Then he breathed on them and said, “Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” Jesus did this that his apostles may be witnesses to the Resurrection and ministers of the forgiveness of sins after baptism.

Next, I anointed her head and hands with blessed olive oil, saying:

“Through this holy anointing, may the Lord in His love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit. May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up.”

In our bodies we suffer and in our bodies, when connected with Christ, we are sanctified. Unless Jesus returns first, in these bodies we shall die and in these bodies we shall rise.

With the Litany of the Saints we call upon our holy friends in heaven, for the dead in Christ are not truly dead. As Jesus told Martha mourning at the death of her brother, Lazarus, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” “He is not the God of the dead but of the living,” so they are ‘all are alive in him.’ With this hope, we pray for the purification, perfection, and peace of our dearly departed and ask the saints in heaven to pray for us.

And last of all, came Jeanette’s Final Commendation. I said:

“I commend you, my dear sister, to almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator. May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace. May Christ who died for you admit you into his garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of his flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. May you see your Redeemer face to face, and enjoy the vision of God for ever. Amen.”

I hope that I am graced to hear these words and receive these holy rites myself someday. After these blessed sacraments, prayers, and benedictions, I suspect Jeanette was very grateful and felt ready and well-prepared to go to meet our Lord. She passed away the next morning.

On November 1st, we in the Church celebrated All Saints. On November 2nd, we celebrated All Souls. And on November 3rd, Jeanette followed after them. This is not the end of all stories about Jeanette, but the beginning of new stories; stories which she will joyfully share with us one day, if you and I faithfully follow Jesus Christ like her.

Associated Priests

October 30, 2021

31st Sunday in Ordinary Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Longing to go Home — Funeral Homily for Donetta Bowe, 90

September 27, 2021

You may or may not have known it, but Donetta wrote poetry. She wrote these words during her retirement:

“I want to go home
  Not to the house in town
  But back to the farm.”

In the following lines she went on to fondly recall the farm’s many sights and sounds, the cardinals and chickadees, the wild turkeys and pheasants, “the humming birds by the flowers,” the deer crossing through the fields, and the barn cats she left behind.

“But it’s not the same anymore,” she wrote,
“I need to find another way
  To satisfy those feelings now.”

In her later years, Donetta felt the fading of her flesh, and lamented at not being able to do all that she could do before.

“Only in my spirit,” she wrote,
“Only in my spirit
  can I run up a green grassy hill.
Only in my spirit
  can I skip along a shady park path.
Only in my spirit
  can I still run up the stairs.”

Over time, our lives accumulate losses. We painfully lose people and places and bodily powers. If this were only natural, why doesn’t it sit more naturally with us? Why do we desire the infinite? Where is the fulfillment of our insatiable longings to be found?

As Martha mourned the death of her brother Lazarus, Jesus assured her this was not her loved one’s end. She replied to him, “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus told her, “Whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live… Do you believe this?” She answered him, “Yes, Lord,” and Martha saw his words proven true sooner that she had expected.

Therefore,” as St. Paul told the Christians of Corinth, Greece, “we are not discouraged… Although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day… This momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory… We look not to what is seen but to what is unseen; for what is seen is passing, but what is unseen is eternal.

Despite looking back, Donetta looked ahead, to the ultimate fulfillment of her longings through our Lord, Jesus Christ. Here are the words of a final Donetta poem, as it appears on her funeral card:

“My time has come for me to go
  and say goodbye to the ones I know.
My body is tired my mind is weak
  it’s difficult for me to speak.
And now I’m waiting by the gate
  so as I go don’t be sad
  for I am grateful for all I had.
Embrace the day and smile for me
  for I am going where I want to go.”

Does Jesus Have an Arc?

September 19, 2021

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Following the Shepherd

September 12, 2021

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time

[Homily Part 1 at both parishes]

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

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

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

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

[Homily Part 2 at St. Paul’s]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mary & the Holy Eucharist

August 14, 2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lessons From The Gulag Archipelago

July 3, 2021

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time

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

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

Travkin Zakhar Grigorevich

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nikolai Aleksandrovich Kozyrev in 1958

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

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

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

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