Lord, if you will (Sundays and Holy Days)

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B (Lord, if you will)

2012-02-12T13:07:00.000-05:00

In terms of sickness in the Bible, it is safe to say that leprosy was one of if not the worst sicknesses to suffer from. For, not only did one have to deal with painful lesions, scabs or blotches, as it so graphically depicts in our first reading, but a leper was cast out and seen as unclean and unfit for social and liturgical celebrations as well.

And since it was also believed that leprosy was contagious anyone who would touch a leper was believed to have become immediately unclean and would have to go through a process of purification by a priest.

In fact, that is why Jesus tells the leper, after he has been cured, that he must present himself to the priest because, it was also believed, that leprosy was caused by sin and the result of God’s punishment on the person.

Our Gospel today is so amazing, then, not just because Jesus performed a miracle, but, because this man approached Jesus, something he was not allowed to do, and Jesus touched Him, something He wasn’t allowed to do, yet, in doing so, was able to demonstrate the healing power of God, and how He can reach out to the most abandoned, isolated, outcast and sick in order to reconcile them back to the Church, to others and to His very self.

In fact, that is why St. Augustine sees within this Gospel an even deeper meaning than this, for within this Gospel he sees the very sacrament of Reconciliation. He sees the leper as a symbol of mortal sin, given its power and ability to separate and divide us from God and one another, and he, too, sees it as contagious insofar as no sin entirely affects us alone but can affect others as well.

And, since sin, by its very nature, is divisive, sin isolates us, and keeps us from fully experiencing all that God wants to give us, all He needs to give us to be healed.

That is why, like the leper, when we approach Jesus in the sacrament, we, too, should approach Him in utter humility, knowing what we have done, what we have failed to do and giving Him all of it, so that we lay before Him, not our excuses but, instead, our very will. So that, we too, can say the same thing as that leper did: “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.”

And, if, indeed, it is His Will, He says the same thing to us as He said to the leper, only they are different words, powerful words, words, indeed that cleanse, words of absolution, the words: “I absolve you of your sins.”

So that in that moment, just as that leper experienced, we, too, stand spiritually cleansed and purified. For, by those words that any priest speaks in the Person of Christ, we are immediately renewed, reconciled and made whole once again. In fact, as a priest, I have had the beautiful privilege to see, more than once, so many almost instantaneously changed by those six simple but powerful words.

And, all it takes is that same simple desire, the same desire as that leper, to, ultimately, make our will His knowing, that by doing so, in the words of St. Thomas Aquinas, with whom I leave you with today: “To give one’s will to God is to give all.”

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B (Prayer)

2012-02-05T00:10:00.000-05:00

In all of the Gospels, no matter how busy Jesus is, no matter how many people are looking for Him, there will always be a time when He will disappear for a little while just to pray.

In fact, as we hear in our Gospel today, He spent His day healing and performing exorcisms, and the next day made sure to get up early in the morning so, that before anything else could begin, His day would begin properly, His day would begin with prayer.

Perhaps, it is easy to miss the impact of what is being said, since the Gospels are full of these moments, but Jesus Himself, who is both God and man, the Second Person of the Most Blessed Trinity, always looked for opportunities when He could go off to a deserted place to pray.

His actions should speak volumes to us because, without uttering a single word, He is teaching us how important and how foundational prayer is meant to be in our lives. That everything we do and every action we take, from the simple to the mundane, to the extraordinary, must all find its support and its strength on the pillar of prayer. So that we always begin our day, sustain our day and end our day with prayer.

Because, when we make time in our busy schedules, those moments, those opportunities for prayer help shape and direct our lives closer to God, so that we are not always struggling to understand God’s Will in our lives, but, instead, seeking to live it even if sometimes it does not seem to make sense.

In fact, after Simon found Jesus, it is obvious that the time He spent in prayer directed and shaped His decision and aided in His knowing that His mission was to continue to other towns and villages. For, by spending that time early in the morning it enabled Him to be more ready for the task at hand, finding the strength He may have needed, since He is also human, and to get a clearer indication of the Father’s Will for Him.

For, truly prayer, as Jesus makes clear, is much more than a conversation with God, it is much more than a means to get what we want, it is our source of strength, of understanding, of confidence and of consolation. It is a unique and beautiful gift that God has given us, because, by it, we are given the amazing and profound ability to communicate with God Himself.

From a theological perspective, our human nature comes in contact with His divine presence so that our voice is at, one and the same time, both uniquely our own, and divinely inspired.

Our prayer is meant to be much more than a simple conversation with God, but a powerful instrument that can transform both ourselves and others, especially those for whom we name, and even the world itself. Indeed, this is what Jesus knew and constantly tried to convey to us, that prayer is supposed to be as important and as necessary as the very air we breathe.

Therefore, let us, like Jesus, seek and strive to always find and make opportunities for prayer, to steal away, like the saints, early in the morning, or late at night, in order to sanctify our actions and constantly bring the presence of God within our midst. So that prayer becomes more than just something we do, but, instead, the very essence of our lives.

For, in the words of St. Josemaria Escriva, with whom I leave you with today: “Prayer is the most powerful weapon a Christian has. Prayer makes us effective. Prayer makes us happy. Prayer gives us all the strength we need to fulfill God’s commands. Yes, indeed, your whole life can and should be prayer.”

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

2012-01-21T22:36:00.001-05:00

If all of us knew that in one week the world would end, what would we do differently? How would we live for that one week? Would we pray more? Would we do more for others? Would our perspective on life change? Would we finally, if we hadn’t already, in the words of our Gospel: “repent and believe in the gospel?”

In our readings today, this was always the constant concern, that at a time we were unaware of, in the words of St. Paul from our second reading, “the world in its present form [would] pass away.”

In fact, if it seems as if St. Paul is being a little extreme it is because he believed that the end was imminent and that, in comparison, struggles and worldly concerns would matter very little at that point. That our only concern would be our relationship with God, since it is only that which endures forever.

Yet, this sense of urgency is the same that would drive the saints to pray for hours on end, this sense of urgency is the same that caused simple fishermen to give up the only thing they knew in order to follow Jesus.

For, they did not even hesitate, they abandoned their nets and left their father in a boat, because they knew or they saw something that was more important than what they were doing, their perspective was completely changed in an instant and their lives were transformed, as a result.

It is with this same sense of urgency that we, too, are called to live as well, to live each day with the reality that the Kingdom of God is at hand and that all of us have a responsibility to usher it in.

To recognize that we don’t have to wait until the end is imminent, but to live that way every week, every day, every moment of our lives. That is what true repentance is, that is what it means to believe in the Gospel.

Knowing that our faith is to become more than just something we profess, but something we live and that each day is an opportunity to be transformed, each day is an opportunity to bring that Gospel to those who need it most, and to speak on behalf of those who have no voice of their own.

In fact, that is why this weekend, people from all across the United States will gather in our nation’s capital to March For Life on Monday.

For, though you will hear little if not anything at all in the news, countless people, hundreds upon hundreds to perhaps thousands will fill the streets, signs in hand, singing, praying and marching to try to make a difference in our nation, in our world, and to bring, that much closer, the Kingdom of God within our midst.

Because, if there was a sense of urgency in the days of the Bible, that sense has only grown more and more, especially in this day and age. We need only pick up a newspaper or turn on a TV to see this to be the case.

That is why, ultimately, to bring the Kingdom is to evangelize, by word and action, to, literally, become fishermen. To throw the net far and wide and to, urgently, fearlessly and happily share our faith, to live our faith. So that from pulpit to podium to public square, Christ’s message is always heard, His message to repent, to believe, to follow.

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B (Temples of the Holy Spirit)

2012-01-14T15:48:00.000-05:00

Every single one of us has been called, every single one of us, like Samuel in our first reading today, have heard the voice of God in our lives, whether it was a whisper or a bellow, we knew that He was calling us forth for some particular task.

We may question whether it was, indeed, Him, we may question what we actually heard, but the fact of the matter is we have all heard something and it was powerful enough, strong enough to bring us to this point in our faith and to lead us to this Church right now.

And, just as we are all different, so too was the call different for each and every one of us, but there was one thing within that call that was universal, one thing that we all share, He asked us to follow Him and to live a life of holiness. In fact, the Church has constantly said, above all, our common vocation is a vocation to holiness.

So, that in that holiness we become, as it is beautifully put in our second reading today, Temples of the Holy Spirit, living vessels of God Himself. In fact, above all else, that is the great beauty and the mystery of the Incarnation that we just celebrated, that God-the-Son took on our human flesh and, in so doing, as St. Athanasius, an early Church Father put it: “He was made man that we might be made gods.”

And, when that happened, He not only sanctified who we are but, with our flesh, purchased us at a price, the price of His very own life, the price of His own Precious Blood. So, that we could then have the capacity to live as Temples, to be sanctified by the Holy Spirit and to truly live the vocation to holiness that all of us have been called to.

It is this from which the Church understands the dignity of the human person and forms Her morality, it is this, which we should always live and keep before us constantly. That, if we allow Him, we, indeed, can become living instruments of God’s Will, that, if we allow Him, our bodies will become the means of glorifying Him.

For, the true mystery of holiness is not just us speaking to God, but God speaking through us, in our words, in our actions, in our lives, so that, as St. Paul says elsewhere, and something I often repeat: “It is no longer I, who live, but Christ who lives within me.”

Therefore, no matter who we are or what we are, we have all been called in the same exact way, we have all been called to the same thing, to become holy, to become saints, so that, just like Samuel in our first reading today, we will always ready for His call and always ready to do His Will. So that, we too, can say, in all simplicity and in complete obedience: “Speak Lord, your servant is listening.”

Solemnity of the Epiphany, Cycle B

2012-01-08T12:17:00.000-05:00

Last night, after Mass, as I was saying goodbye to everyone, I noticed a single star in the sky, none others were visible or as bright as that star. And I thought how difficult it must be to follow a star to a town and, also, how fitting it was to see something like that given that we celebrate the Solemnity of the Epiphany today.

Yet, while that is the most well known aspect of this feast, it is actually, also, a celebration of the three times Christ chose to reveal or manifest Himself. In fact, that is what the word, “epiphany” means, to “make known,” to “manifest,” or to “reveal.”

And Christ revealed Himself in three ways: By the Magi, who followed a star that led them to Bethlehem. At His Baptism in the Jordan River when the Father said that this was His beloved Son whom we are to listen to, and, lastly, when He performed His first miracle at The Wedding Feast of Cana in Galilee.

Yet, this day, also, usually marks the 12th and final day of Christmas, even though, in this case, it was last Friday and the Church moved it to this Sunday. Also, on the night before Epiphany it was customary to put on a play, which is why Shakespeare, the great poet and playwright, probably wrote his play, Twelfth Night, in honor of this celebration.

Yet, given all of this, our feast today is most known for three people, Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, those whom we call the three Magi, kings, or Wisemen. And, while not much is known about them, what we do know is that they were astrologers, that they were those who would study the Heavens and sought to read signs in the sky.

And, what’s more, is that it was believed that there would always be a sign in the sky of a famous birth, like a king or queen, or like, it was believed there was for Moses and other important people from the Bible.

So, these Magi knew that in following the star they would find someone important, they would, most likely, find a king. It also why they brought such extraordinary gifts, gifts that would be a symbol of who this child is, what He would become and what He would, ultimately, do for us.

For, gold was a symbol of Jesus’ kingship, frankincense, the stuff that makes the church smoky is a symbol of our prayers rising to Heaven and myrrh, was something burnt at funerals and also used to embalm the dead.

That is why they embarked upon a long journey to see this king, a trip that many believe was much longer than one night, in fact, some believe that the Magi traveled between 1000-2000 miles. And, in doing so, were forced to leave behind their family and their friends and everyone they knew.

As one priest puts it: “It was anything but a romantic, sentimental pilgrimage that we often see in our manger scenes! The magi were not just holy visionaries or whimsical religious figures; they were willing to wager their money, their time and their energy, and perhaps even their lives to seek out someone who would bring true peace.”

That is why when they got there, they immediately prostrated themselves before Him, literally, laying down all that they were.

Yet, the larger miracle was not just the appearance of the star, but the way in which God perfectly knew what would draw the Magi’s attention the most, just as He knows the same with us, because a sign does not just depend upon its manifestation but also on the one interpreting it. In fact, this is the reason Herod did not see the star as clearly as the Magi had.

God gave them a star because they probably would not have followed anything else.

And, it was this simple, quiet star that led the way, a star that shows us how Christ is truly found, not in the big things, the extraordinary things, but the little things, the quiet things, the simple things of our ordinary lives. Where He can transform something as simple as a light in the sky and make it a spotlight to our Savior, or take bread and wine and make it God Himself.

Perhaps, then, today, as we end our Christmas season, we might look at those moments when God has sanctified our lives and see in the simplicity of our own the beauty of His.

Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God, Cycle B

2011-12-31T19:25:00.000-05:00

Tonight/Today, as we stand on the cusp of a new year, looking forward in anticipation and backwards with a certain nostalgia, we celebrate the Solemnity of Mary, as the Mother of God, placing ourselves, as Jesus did, in her arms, under her patronage and protection, knowing that His mother is also ours.

There is, perhaps, no better way to begin this New Year, than by celebrating it with Mary. A woman who not only wants the very best for her children, but one who stands as the perfect model of sainthood, showing us not just how to sanctify the year, nor the day, nor the hour, but every single moment of our lives, every opportunity that God will give us in 2012.

And, since that year, beyond all others, especially on Dec. 21st has become the source of fear, anxiety and uncertainty, given so many apocalyptic predictions, it is the opportune time to look to Mary and, like her, ponder in our hearts all that God has in store for this New Year.

To anticipate all that He will do and to stand in awe and amazement for all that He has done. Knowing that the same Word that lives among us and in our midst is the same Word that created all of nature and the entire universe, so that from the stars, to the earth, to the sea, to the sun, all is, ultimately, subject to Him.

So that we may recognize that while there may be reluctance in entering a new year, especially with all that is unknown, with the very Mother of God by our side, we not need fear anything but trust in God alone.

Perhaps, though, that fear of the unknown is the reason why Pope Paul VI, when instituting this solemn celebration of Mary, also dedicated the day as “World Day of Peace.” For, as he put it: “It is likewise a fitting occasion for renewed adoration of the newborn Prince of Peace…and for imploring from God, through the Queen of Peace, the supreme gift of peace. For this reason . . . we have instituted the World Day of Peace.”

So that even as we honor Mary as the Mother of God we are also reminded that she brought forth He who is the “Prince of Peace” which, in turn, made her the Queen of Peace, which means that we are being invited to enter this new year with a sense of peace.

Yet, in spite of what we might think, we can never bring peace the way that only God can, which is why we need, like Mary, to be men and women of prayer. In fact, Fr. Peyton, whose story I spoke about in the bulletin this weekend, would always say: “a world at prayer is a world at peace.” And, just imagine a world where everyone prayed, where everyone made time in their day to not just thank God, but to spend ample time with Him.

Maybe, all of us might make that our New Years resolution, to pray more, to bring God into our world, our lives and our hearts so that, by doing so, we can all become what we have been called to be, saints.

Because this day not only commemorates Our Heavenly and spiritual Mother, it reminds us what it means to be a child of God, to walk towards the uncertainty that 365 days can bring with confidence and trust, knowing that with our Mother at our side, and Her Son in our midst and in our hearts, we will fear nothing but, instead, take each day as a new opportunity as a new cross, if need be, knowing that with the power of God behind us we will be children of hope, children of love, children of peace, children of Mary.

CHRISTmas Mass in the Evening, Cycle B (Silent Night)

2011-12-24T23:42:00.001-05:00

Tonight, there is a stillness, and it happens every Christmas Eve. It never happens on any other night nor does it happen on Christmas day, only at night, on this night. No matter how old you are, you can still feel it, which is, perhaps, why so many people have written countless songs about it, but what it is, is not entirely clear.

Perhaps, it is the exhaustion of the world after preparing, after impatiently waiting, perhaps, it is the calm before the storm of family and friends, yet, while those things bring quiet, that is not what this is, it is different.

It is almost a silence, a stillness, a peace that penetrates and permeates unlike any other. Perhaps, what the shepherds might have experienced, as they kept watch, or as the Magi encountered as they followed a star to Bethlehem. Or as Mary and Joseph felt as they knelt before their newborn child as He slept.

It is almost as though creation itself is hushed to let that little child sleep. Perhaps, this is what that silence is, one of the few times when it is not just us, but the entirety of creation that bows down in adoration before Him, and we experience this as reverential.

In fact, that is why we are here tonight and what we are reminded of, that great and beautiful mystery when earth itself entered Heaven and Heaven came down to earth.

Our journey from the days of Advent has, at last ended, and, tonight, we find ourselves in Bethlehem where we are invited to humbly kneel before the child Jesus and, like Mary, to ponder in our hearts. Because, in the words of St. John Chrysostom: “Bethlehem this day resembles heaven; hearing from the stars the singing of angelic voices.”

The same reality, then, experienced over 2000 years ago occurs again this night, in this church, in our town, in our world, for all of creation itself bows before its creator, and the very mystery of the Incarnation becomes tangible and unfolds before every single one us. So that, in the words of St. Athanasius: “God became man, so that man might become God.”

It is a mystery that we cannot even begin to fathom, begin to comprehend, yet, what we do understand is so overwhelming, so amazing, so phenomenal, that we cannot but help to fall down in adoration and rejoice, to join with the angels and the saints in their triumphant hymn of praise.

Because, tonight, is not just Christmas, it is a reminder of the very culmination of our salvation and that what we have is truly God’s gift to us, that this night, that this child, more than any other gift we may receive, is the only gift we will ever need, because, as clichéd as it may sound, it is not a thousand presents that He gives us but only His presence among us.

That is why we are here tonight and why we gather in this Church, to adore Him, our savior, and to recall the time when God Himself became a little child to save us, when Mary held in Her arms the same child who held Her in His. He who is Our Emmanuel, our Wonder-Counselor, our Prince of Peace, He who came into this world lying on the wood of a manger only to leave this world lying on the wood of the cross.

Therefore, tonight, let us celebrate and adore, and with the choirs of heavenly angels sing that triumphant hymn of praise: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will.”

CHRISTmas Mass with Children, Cycle B (Little Drummer Boy)

2011-12-24T20:40:00.002-05:00

I have here a gift, it is not that big, it is not that small, but it is a gift, that means that someone gave it to me, that I am to open it and that they want me to use it, in whatever way I am supposed to. It also means that it is meant for me, in fact, that’s why we call it a gift.

Now, especially during this time of year, we hear so many stories and songs about gifts and giving gifts, but one of my favorites is about a little boy and his drum, a song that most of us probably know, “The Little Drummer Boy.”

While, I am sure that most of you have heard it, for those of you who may not have, it is about a little boy who went to go see a King, but this King was just born, so He was still a baby, but the little drummer boy watched as people from all over brought this little infant-King beautiful and really expensive gifts. Some brought gold, while others brought frankincense, that stuff that’s making the church so smoky and many expensive and beautiful gifts.

So, this little drummer boy, watching this, really wanted to give a gift as well but the problem was he didn’t have any money; he was poor, so he didn’t think he had anything to give. Then he realized, he did have something, he had his drum, and he could play his drum for the king.

So he asked this baby’s mother if he could play. The child’s mother nodded to tell him, “yes” he could play his drum, and that is what he did. And, then the song ends with the little child, this little King, cradled in His mother’s arms, smiling at the little drummer boy.

Now, if you know why you are here tonight, when you would rather be home watching all the Christmas specials, then you know who that child is, and if you have been paying close attention in your religion classes, then you know who this child’s mother is, but, just in case, I’ll tell you, that little child is the baby Jesus and the mother is Mary.

That is why this little drummer boy felt so bad that he thought he didn’t have anything to give, because it wasn’t just a present for a king, but for God. In fact, he probably thought he should have just left and tried to find someone to trade with, so that he could get something nicer for his drum.

But then he realized something very important; he realized what a gift actually is, and what it is meant to be. Now, I am sure that most, if not all of you, has given a gift to someone else, especially tomorrow or on someone’s birthday and when you do you get to see how happy they are when they receive the gift.

And then it makes you happy when you see them use it, wear it or treasure it in any way. It doesn’t matter whether it was big or small, whether it was a lot of money or not, or whether you even made it yourself, just that the person you gave it to really loved it and they used it, and that you were happy because you picked out the perfect gift for that person.

Believe it or not, God does the same thing with us, He gives us the perfect gift. Now, I am sure you are asking yourself, when did God give me a gift?

Well, He gave us the very gift of His Son, which we, so beautifully, celebrate tonight, but them He also gave us a gift that is ours alone, and that no one in this world can do in quite the same way as we do.

For, you see God didn’t give the Little Drummer Boy His drum, instead, He gave him the ability to play that drum. We don’t always call them gifts, but that’s what they are, so that those who are good at music, sports, drawing, dancing, it’s not just a talent, if we are good at it, people might even say we have a gift in what we do.

And, since it is a gift, like I said in the beginning, it means that someone gave it to us, it means…that God gave it to us, (open the box) and that He continues to give it to us, so that just like any gift, He wants to make sure that we always use it, that we always treasure it.

That is why, no matter what it is, we all have something to bring tonight, just like that little drummer boy, whether our favorite possessions, as the children will do shortly, or the gift of our self and our abilities, we all have something to bring, therefore, let us then come before that child Jesus, and, indeed, give Him that gift, the very gift He has given to us.

Fourth Sunday of Advent, Cycle B (Mary)

2011-12-18T12:59:00.000-05:00

On this, the last week of Advent, we turn to Mary, a humble woman with the most important vocation of all. For, unlike St. John, she is not asked to convey a message of His Second Coming, she is not a voice of one crying out in the desert, nor is she asked to baptize and call sinners to repentance.

Instead, she is asked to, essentially, say one word, one single word, that will forever change the course of history, the course of humanity, the course of our entire world, for hers is the choice to allow our redeemer and our God to be born into our flesh or to turn away and deny such an overwhelming request.

So, that, in the words of St. Bernard: “The angel awaits an answer…we too are waiting…

And, we all know what she said, granted, first she questioned, as we all do, but then she consented, she said, “yes,” but not just “yes,” something even more, she said: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”

Her response echoes throughout the ages, for her consent set forth our salvation, and began for her that unbroken “yes” throughout her life that not only brought our Savior and God into our world, but also brought her through the desert, to the cross, to Him laying in her arms, to seeing Him again in glory.

Her simple consent, as many saints and scholars would say, cancelled the “no” of Eve and brought forth Him who cancelled the multitude of our sins.

And, it is her response; it is her humble abandonment to God that should become a model for all of us, an important reminder and a powerful example of how it is we should live each and every day, each and every moment of our lives. Because, truth be told, her response is not just a simple “yes,” but a “yes,” without any qualifications, without any hesitation, without any stipulation, only full and true obedience to what it is God wants.

We turn to Mary, then, on this, the last week of Advent, not because she is the least important but because she the most, it is the Church’s wisdom of saving the best for last and the way in which we truly learn what Advent calls us to, a quiet expectation, an obedience to the Will of God that brings forth an excitement, a longing, a joy unsurpassed.

Truly this is what Advent has been pointing us to, preparing us for, and getting us ready to experience, His coming in fullness, His entering our hearts, His joy in the world. That, we too, may say yes, that, we too, allow ourselves to be overshadowed and overcome by the Holy Spirit, so that just as Jesus was hidden in Mary’s womb, He may be hidden in the recesses, in the mangers of our own hearts, He who truly is our Emmanuel, our God-who-is-with-us.

Gaudete Sunday, Cycle B

2011-12-11T12:08:00.001-05:00

Today, is a turning point in the season of Advent, it is the halfway mark, as it were, between this two-fold preparation that we have begun, for whereas our preparation has been for the Second Coming of Christ, today and for the rest of the weeks to come, we now direct our preparation to His birth. That is why we call it “Gaudete” or “Rejoice” Sunday, and why our readings have a more festive and less ominous feel to them and a certain excitement and anticipation of His coming.

That too, is why one of the candles on the Advent wreath is a different color, a rose color and why, if they are available, priests are permitted to wear those same rose-colored vestments, (something, believe it or not, I tried very hard to find) to underscore this jubilation, this desire, as it says in our second reading, to “Rejoice always.”

Yet, I have to be honest with you, I never really understood, like a lot of priests, why out of all the colors in the world, it was rose that was chosen, and it was only after really searching that I finally found the answer, that I finally discovered the beautiful reason for using this color.

If you have ever gotten up really early in the morning, before the sun rises, and looked at the horizon, you will notice that though everything around is still dark, there is a very faint light from the sun, and as the sun slowly rises, the color of the sky changes from black, to a shade of violet, to a shade of pink, or more properly put, rose. So that, as the sun begins to rise the very color of the sky changes, and as the light draws closer this transition becomes all the more evident.

And, that is what is happening today, liturgically, we are demonstrating that the light of Christ is drawing closer, that the darkness is slowly fading and the anticipation is, indeed, growing.

We are, literally, replicating that same transition, so that the dark shade of purple is giving way to rose, which will eventually turn to white, because the light on the horizon is, indeed, coming, signaling the very promise of a new day.

For, it is no coincidence that one of the Advent hymns we sing is “People Look East,” because it is in the East that the sun rises, it is in the East that the light of Christ will dawn, and a new hope will break forth.

A hope that will, as Isaiah beautifully puts it, bring glad tidings to the poor, heal the brokenhearted, proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners. For, truly there is cause for rejoicing, which is why we are told in our first reading that we must rejoice heartily in the Lord, that is, with everything we have, with every ounce of energy in our soul, because, truly Christ is coming, in our midst and in our hearts.

That is why, as our second reading reminds, we must be holy and preserved blameless, because as the light in the horizon gets brighter, so do we, and we want to make sure that no darkness exists within us, that no sin will prevent us or impede us from fully experiencing His presence and the fullness of grace He brings us.

Because the light of Christ is coming and, indeed, is almost here, therefore, let us continue our preparation this Advent as we anticipate and draw closer to His return, knowing that, indeed, our Emmanuel is coming soon.

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, Cycle B

2011-12-08T10:12:00.000-05:00

Today we celebrate the feast of the Immaculate Conception, when, as Pope Pius IX proclaimed, when declaring this feast day that “The most Blessed Virgin Mary was, from the first moment of her conception, by a singular grace and privilege of almighty God and by virtue of the merits of Jesus Christ, Savior of the human race, preserved immune from all stain of original sin.”

So that, Mary, from the very first moment of her conception was free from all and every trace of sin. Given, as she was, the highest grace to be bestowed upon any human being, something that no other woman or no other person in the history of the world has shared, the freedom from all sin.

Just imagine for a moment what that would be like, what we would be like, what the world would be like, if no sin existed, if we were free from any possible way of offending God, our Father and Creator. If, instead of constantly finding new ways of hiding from Him in shame and fear, as our first parents did, after consuming the forbidden fruit, if, instead of making excuses for what we have done, we were constantly in His presence and purified in His love.

And, while nearly impossible to imagine, that was the singular grace that Mary was given, a grace that, believe it or not, every now and then we, ourselves, get to see, a grace that every now and then we get to catch incredibly small glimmers of, a time when sin never existed, when that harmony that Advent prepares us for and so beautifully points to was a reality.

And, it happens, when we leave the confessional, burdened, no longer, by the weight of our sins, when our conscience is made clean and through the very mystery of God we enter into, what we call, the state of grace. Or, when we receive Christ in the Eucharist as a worthy vessel of His love, as a tabernacle in which He is to dwell the way He did in Mary who was our first tabernacle.

And though, for us, they are only moments, pockets of time, those are the times when this feast makes the most sense, when we are closest to sharing in that same gift God bestowed upon Mary.

Yet, the reality is that we are constantly aware that our greatest challenge is to live that life free from all sin. In fact, perhaps, one of the greatest struggles of being Christian is the ability to avoid sin at every moment, of every hour of every single day.

There are, of course, stories of saints, those just like you or I, who were able to accomplish the ability to never mortally sin, but they were, indeed, the exception and, they struggled and fought for such a grace, but the majority of the saints were just as fragile and prone to sin as all of us.

Yet, this feast reminds us that there was somebody who was given an extraordinary grace to live a life free from all sin and it should encourage us and become our life’s desire to imitate Mary, and to learn from Her how this is possible, especially in this day and age.

For, like her, we need to live a life of prayer and of great humility, because, it takes a lot of humility to conquer ourselves and our desires and to let Christ dwell completely within us, so that no trace or, in our case, very little trace of sin can be found on our conscience and in our hearts.

It is not an ideal, as much as it may sound like that, but something possible for every single one of us. Mary stands as the extraordinary example of this possibility, reminding us as the angel did: “that nothing will be impossible for God.” For, when our entire lives reflect this constant striving to avoid sin, unlike our first parents, we may be able to conquer our own sinfulness and find ourselves, in the end where Mary is and where we strive to be, face to face with God Himself in Heaven.

Second Sunday of Advent (St. John the Baptist), Cycle B

2011-12-03T23:08:00.000-05:00

I will never forget what I saw one night as I was driving. I was looking at and admiring all the Christmas lights and decorations, because it is nearly impossible not to, when I pulled up to a traffic light and happened to notice a house that was a little darker than the others, on the porch, there was a purple cloth draped and there was a single spotlight pointing at a sign, and on the sign there was a quote from Isaiah, our first reading today, and it simply said: “Comfort, Comfort, O My People.” And, in each window there was a single candle, there were no colorful lights, no Santas or Snowmen, just a purple cloth, a light and a sign.

Today, we are introduced to St. John the Baptist, he who was that spotlight that sign of one greater than himself who was to come. A man with a simple but incredibly challenging mission, to prepare the entire world for the coming of Our Savior, to become, as Isaiah puts it: “a voice of one crying out in the desert.”

Yet, given who St. John the Baptist was, we cannot help but wonder in awe why God would choose him. Here was a man, as we hear in our Gospel, who was dressed in camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist and whose diet consisted of locusts and wild honey. We might be tempted to look at him as one of those whom we might see on the streets of NYC, with one of those signs saying: “Repent! The End is Coming Soon.” That is why I like this picture the best, (the one above) because I think it really encapsulates who St. John the Baptist was.

What is most amazing, however, is that in spite of how he appeared, in spite of what he did, many were still drawn to him, baptized by him, and converted as a result of him, because, he never pointed to himself, he never, once, even in spite of countless followers, declared himself as worthy of a following. Instead he said something completely different, that he was not even worthy to stoop and loosen the thongs on the sandals of the one mightier than him. Something that was seen as so humiliating, so degrading that not even a slave was allowed to do so.

That is why while he may have appeared as unkempt and poor, he was actually dressed as a prophet and his diet of locusts and wild honey was one of the most severe penances that was practiced at the time. So, he was well prepared for his mission and taught that same preparation to all of those he met, baptized and brought the message of repentance to.

Yet, we cannot help but ask, that if it is was that important for Christ to send a herald of His coming, how much more should we prepare ourselves during this Advent?

Because Advent is more than just a season, it is an opportunity, another day that God has given us to be ready for the last day, as it reminds in our second reading. It is not meant to be fatalistic but realistic, and to know that the more we are ready, the less we have to fear, but even more so, to know that to be ready is to be willing to accept Christ in our lives, knowing, indeed, as St. John the Baptist proclaimed, He will come again, but also knowing the true joy of receiving Him on Christmas day.

For, in the end, the more we are spiritually prepared, the more we practice penance and patience, the more of a gift Christ will truly be for us, and, most important of all, the more of a gift we will realize we are given each and every time we receive Him in the Most Holy Eucharist.

Because, then, just like that house that I saw one night, our souls will show that same state of readiness, clothed in a purple cloth, shining with the light of Christ, pointing to a simple sign, a sign of hope, a sign of peace, a sign that He will be here soon.

Christ the King, Cycle A

2011-11-20T12:57:00.000-05:00

The 19th century Christian philosopher and theologian Søren (SIR-uhn) Kierkegaard has a famous parable known as the king and the maiden, a parable I included in the bulletin this weekend.

In it, he describes the great power of this king, the way in which he would strike fear in his opponents and how his strength was too much for any to bear. Yet, one day he met a humble maiden whom he fell in love with, but it left him in a difficult situation, for as Kierkegaard questions: “How can he declare his love for her? In an odd sort of way his very kingliness tied his hands.” He thought of showering her with gifts but knew that would not guarantee her love in return, he thought of making her a queen, but worried she would love him for who he was but what he represented.

His simple desire was that she forget he was a king and let love “cross the gulf between them, for it is only in love, Kierkegaard says, that the unequal can be made equal.”

So, the king realizing what needed to be done became a servant in order to declare his love and for them to, eventually, marry. He gave up his majestic robes and shining crown to put on a beggar-cloak, worn out and fluttering loosely about him.
And it is this that we celebrate on this feast of Christ the King. Our great, omnipotent, mighty, majestic and creator God became a servant for us all.

Yet, the cloak He wears is not just any cloak, it is the garment of love, this is why He did not rule from a throne or dictate from on high, but came among us, serving the hungry, the thirsty, the naked and the sick, the most dejected and rejected, caring for them all, and bringing them closer to Himself.

And what He did He asks us to do as well, to be a servant of the same, not dressed as one but living as one, knowing that the person we serve is not just them, but Christ Himself.

It was Bl. Mother Teresa who recognized this asking: “How can you love God whom you do not see, if you do not love your neighbor whom you see, whom you touch, with whom you live?” When asked how it was we are to see Christ in our neighbor, she simply responded: “To be able to love one another, we must pray much, for prayer gives a clean heart and a clean heart can see God in our neighbor. If now we have no peace, she says, it is because we have forgotten how to see God in one another.”

For, the reality of this Gospel reminds us that Christ will not just return, but ask us to make an account of the lives we lived and of what we have done to bring Christ’s kingdom to earth. And when He comes, it will not be as a simple servant, but as judge and king, His power will no longer be hidden and His sovereignty will be made evident. In fact, as our Gospel puts it: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him.”

That means that all of us, individuals and, indeed, nations will be held accountable, in fact, one of the reasons for this feast is an encyclical by Pope Pius XI, in which his desire was that everyone would realize Christ’s sovereignty on earth, with the hope, that as he says:

“Nations will be reminded by the annual celebration of this feast that not only private individuals but also rulers and princes are bound to give public honor and obedience to Christ. It will call to their minds the thought of the last judgment, wherein Christ, who has been cast out of public life, despised, neglected and ignored, will most severely avenge these insults; for his kingly dignity demands that the State should take account of the commandments of God and of Christian principles, both in making laws and in administering justice, and also in providing for the young a sound moral education.”

Showing us and reminding us, ultimately, in the end, that those three Latin words Pope Sixtus V had engraved on the pillar in Saint Peter’s Square ring true: “Christus vincit! Christus regnat! Christus imperat!” Christ conquers! Christ reigns! Christ rules!

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-11-13T10:23:00.000-05:00

Every year, around this time, which you may have noticed, our readings change and our focus turns towards the Second Coming of Christ and the importance of being prepared for that Coming.

In fact, that is the overarching theme, as it were, to the coming season of Advent, which is why our Gospel is, in a sense, preparing us with, what is known as the famous parable of the talents.

Yet, all too often when we hear this parable, we associate it exclusively with our own talents and abilities, but that should be only part of it, because this Gospel is also reminding us of the importance of being able to make an account of the very gifts God has given each and every one of us. The great gifts of virtue, prayer, and, as Fr. Cantlamessa, the papal household preacher describes it, the kingdom of God proclaimed by Him.

In other words, it is a call to be ready to make an account of how well we used or, in some cases, abused those gifts or, as we often call them, graces, that God has given us.

I was once speaking to an agnostic, that is one who isn’t sure they believe in God, but are open to the possibility. And she assured me that she had never been given the grace of faith. In fact, she said, rather tongue-in-cheek: “If faith is a gift then someone forgot to give to me.” Yet, my question to her, was did someone truly forget to give it to her, or was it is still sitting in the corner waiting to be opened?

Because each day, each moment of our lives we make the decision, to choose grace or reject it, we make the decision to take His gifts and either multiply them 100 fold or to bury them in infertile ground.

That was the reason the Master in our Gospel, upon his return, was so upset and angry with his servant, because rather than trying to multiply that one gift, that grace, he instead buried it, never thought about it, and dug it up when it was time. In other words, he let it sit in a corner, unopened and unused until it was too late.

Yet, each day, each moment, God imparts new gifts to us, new ways for us to show Him our love and we are free to do with them as we like. In fact, probably one of the greatest gifts He has given us is hope, because it takes a lot of hope, especially in this day and age, to continue on, to gather together in this Church each week and to pray and to celebrate the Eucharist.

Otherwise, we might be forced to look at the world and see nothing but pain, sorrow, hurt, loss, despair and darkness, among others.

That is why we should embrace each and every single gift God desires to give us, and make the most of them all, whether one, five, one hundred or a thousand talents, because, by doing so, we become, as our second reading so beautifully reminds, children of light in the darkness, children of day in the night and beacons of hope to all we meet, so that when the Master returns the same promise to the faithful servants will be the same promise we hear as well: “Come, share your Master’s joy.”

32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-11-06T12:35:00.000-05:00

Today’s Gospel should leave us with a simple, but incredibly powerful question: “if Jesus were to return tomorrow or even today, or even right now, would we be ready? Would we have all our spiritual affairs in order, fully ready to see Him when He comes face to face?”

The answer, of course, is individual, but the demand is the same, asking us, in no uncertain terms if, indeed, we have sought to live our lives in accordance with God’s Will, if we have lived our lives with vigilance, preparation and patience, knowing He can come at any hour, at anytime, at any day.

And, it demands not just an examination of conscience, but a very inventory of how we have lived, whether or not our actions have reflected who we are, whether we have lived our lives as a Christian, as one who truly reflects the light of Christ or if we have let the oil in the lamps of our souls be emptied.

Because, this parable, like all parables, is meant to be seen in a spiritual context, so that the oil is seen as spiritual reserves that are acquired by a life of constant and vigilant prayer, and the light is the light of Christ burning within us which was fueled by the oil of this prayer. The foolish virgins were only foolish because they didn’t have oil, in other words, they were not praying and their reserves were very low, because after a while they gave up waiting and they stopped praying altogether, bringing, therefore, no oil with them.

That is why when they asked those who were prepared to give them some oil, it was truly impossible, because they cannot give something that took them years to acquire by a life of constant and vigilant prayer. Their reserves were only full because their lives were full with the light and the love of Christ. St. Josemaria Escriva, in one his sermons explains this beautifully, he says: “But if we then consider things from a supernatural point of view, we can also see what is the root cause of this sterility: the absence of a continuous and intense, person-to-person relationship with Our Lord Jesus Christ.”

For, this parable teaches us the true strength, value and importance of a strong, consistent and regular prayer life and these ten virgins are Jesus’ way of showing us this, of reminding us of the importance of being vigilant and alert and always ready for when He returns.

Because, our prayers, whether full of the greatest and most beautiful of consolations or the worst thing we can possibly feel, either way, have the extraordinary ability to build up those reserves, to create a flowing oil in our souls and an opportunity to ignite a fire of prayer in our hearts with the love of Christ, that can only be extinguished when we choose to stop praying.

In fact, that is why the saints would pray day and night, longing for those opportunities and desiring them always, even going so far as sacrificing sleep, food and shelter, not because they were crazy, as many think, but because they knew that when God returned, either for them individually, or to the entire world, they wanted to be ready, prepared and in a constant state of awareness of both.

And, the same should be true of us as well, we, too, should have that same vigilance that same readiness, so that the oil of our souls, indeed, lights our prayer on fire and we may bring that fire, that light of Christ to others, making sure it never burns out, but constantly burns bright and strong. Being always ready and prepared for when the day comes for the bridegrooms’ return when we can see Him as He is, person-to-person, face to face in Heaven.

The Solemnity of All Saints, Cycle A

2011-11-01T11:15:00.000-04:00

Many years ago, when I sat where you sit right now and went to Mass on All Saints Day, I heard a particularly striking homily from the priest. He said when we are younger we aspire to be so many things from an astronaut to a police officer, to a firefighter, to anything we could possibly fathom. Then he said something I will never forget, he said yet I wonder how many of us would have said we wanted to be a saint.

It was one of those things that really stuck with me, and I thought about that question for a long time, beginning to wonder the same thing. And then it occurred to me: if we are honest with ourselves, we are afraid to entertain such an idea because it seems more of an ideal than a reality.

In fact, all too often, when we hear about the saints we rarely ever hear about what they did day in and day out, or even how they lived their lives before their conversions. Instead, we hear about the miracles that are attributed to them, the great wonders they worked while on earth, and the holiness they constantly radiated.

Yet, something we might tend to forget is that these saints were just like you or I, who experienced the same things we experience, struggled with the same things we struggle with and who were guilty of the same sins and faults that we commit.

A couple of years ago, I discovered this book, a book that should give us all hope and a book that sheds some light on who the saints were before they were saints. It is simply called: “Saints Behaving Badly” with the subtitle: “The Cutthroats, Crooks, Trollops, Con Men, and Devil Worshippers Who Became Saints.”

And, it highlights countless saints, from the famous to the unknown, who lived less than holy lives before God changed that. St. Callixstus of Rome was an embezzler, a brawler, a twice-convicted felon until he repented, became a priest, was elected pope and died a martyr. St. Camillus was an Italian mercenary soldier, a cardsharp and con man, who repented and then founded a Congregation, known as the Servants of the Sick and spent the rest of his life caring for those who were sick and dying. St. Pelagia, was an actress in Antioch, who led a very unsavory life, until one day she heard a homily by a bishop which caused her to repent and even ask that same bishop to baptize her. St. Augustine, a man who recounts all of his sins in his own book, lived a worldly and less than holy life, was converted, baptized and became bishop.

A sampling of the countless of those men and women who lived ordinary and sometimes incredibly scandalous lives, but who, once converted, persevered until the end in order to attain something even greater than the seemingly great lives that they thought they had, a life that nothing in this world could compare to.

Yet, what makes them different, what makes them saints, is the simple fact that given the lives they lived they realized one thing: they could just as easily fall back into that same life, and so they fought adamantly for that not to happen.

And, while that is what they teach us, that seems to be the only part that we hear about, which is why sainthood seems so unattainable and idealistic.

But, it’s not, because every single one of us has the potential to become a saint, every single one of us has been called to holiness and to live that call to the same radical and extraordinary degree as those whom we celebrate today. Because, holiness is simply a fancy term for one who desires Heaven and to become a saint is to live our lives on earth so that we can attain that Heavenly homeland.

And, to do so, is simple, it is to change our lives and to let that change affect and permeate everything we do, and everything we say in order to make Heaven that much closer, to make it a reality rather than ideal.

It was St. Josemaria Escriva who said it best: “To reform. Every day a little. This has to be your constant task if you really want to become a saint.”

Therefore, let us always follow the example of the saints and call upon them often for inspiration, for help, and for guidance, knowing, indeed, that they were just like you or I, with one difference, they realized their potential for Heaven, they accepted it and they stopped at nothing to get it.

The question we must ask ourselves then, is do we want the same?

31st Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A (Priesthood Sunday)

2011-10-30T18:54:00.000-04:00

Today, is not just the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time, it is not just the day when we have a freak snowstorm in October, it is also a day that the Serrans, that is, a group that promotes vocations to the priesthood and religious life, has dedicated as Priesthood Sunday.

And, its purpose is simple, to ask you to thank God for those who have answered their call and to continue to support them in their vocation with your countless prayers and support. For, as our readings remind, the priesthood is both a call to leadership and to humility, it is a simultaneous call, as our Gospel says, to be both the greatest among you and a servant.

That is why the priest, a simple man chosen among men, as it says elsewhere in Hebrews, has been given the monumental task of bringing the Eucharist, Jesus Himself, within your midst and caring for the salvation of souls. That is why the priest does not stand as his own, but as, is popularly said in Latin, an “Alter Christos,” that is, “another Christ.” For, the sacraments are a mystery and we are not just guys doing our job, we are not even instruments, in a very real way we are Christ made present to you.

This day has been set aside, so that you can particularly pray for all priests, living and deceased, because every single priest benefits and needs your constant prayers, because, though the priesthood has become much less glamorous than it was in the past, it is still the priest in the person of Christ who dispenses the sacraments, so that from the Eucharist to confession, it is, indeed, Christ to whom you come, not me, nor Fr. Angelus, nor Fr. Peter, nor Fr. Whomever, it is Christ, the great high priest who stands with that priest.

What’s more, is that though every priest is to live a life of holiness, he constantly needs help in that endeavor, we need only look at the news to see this to be the case. That is why, again, it is by your prayers that this can happen, for it is your prayers that strengthens us, it is your prayers that allow the priest to beget what he has become, to live what he has been ordained for.

So that his example and his joy inspires others, who inspire others, until the Body of Christ is brimming with new priests to bring the sacraments to the next generations and generations to come. In fact, in this weekend’s Our Sunday Visitor, they interviewed countless priests and 92% say they are happy, 94% say they experience joy that only God can give. For, theirs is, indeed, a unique vocation, because, without the priest, there is no Eucharist and without the Eucharist, there is no church.

Today, then let us pray for our priests, those that have served us, those that continue to serve, those that are retired, those who have died, and most importantly, for those of whom their humanness was all too evident.

Knowing that your prayers, indeed, all prayers for priests far and wide not only help them but help foster vocations for more priests, called as they are, to humbly preach, teach, dispense the sacraments and proclaim the Gospel of God by their word, by their actions and by their love.

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-10-15T18:25:00.001-04:00

In our Gospel, we have two of the greatest civil powers in the Bible, who, though politically divided, came together in order to try to entrap Jesus. The Pharisees and the Herodians, one who wanted political independence of Israel and one whose allegiance was to the Roman Empire. Two great forces who put aside their differences in order to finally catch Jesus, once and for all.

And, while it finally appears that they have Him, His response shows that this is not the case, for unequivocally, he says: “give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar.” Now, in order to understand the importance of this response a little more biblical history is necessary, so bear with me.

Every year, Roman authorities would demand taxes from each man, woman, and slave, and the tax had to be paid in Roman currency. On the coin one would see the image of the current emperor, in our Gospel today, this was the image of Caesar. And on that coin, there was the inscription, "Tiberius Caesar, August son of the divine Augustus, high priest." In other words, the emperor claimed himself to be the “chief priest,” Lording himself over all priests, which, essentially, was the equivalent of saying he was a god.

Now, as you might imagine, this did not fare too well with the Jews and though they recognized the emperor’s political authority, the same was not true with his religious authority.

The Pharisees and the Herodians knowing this were trying to catch Jesus and either expose Him for collaborating with the Romans or be able to denounce Him before the Romans, this is why Jesus’ full response was not just “repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar” but also, to give God what belongs to God. In other words, to honor the emperor as he is to be honored and give obedience to him in terms of just laws, but if ever there is a conflict between God’s laws and the emperor’s, it is God’s laws that should always be followed.

So, the tension that exists even today, that you cannot turn on the TV, or avoid in the news, is a tension that is as old as the Bible itself, and it is Jesus who shows us the proper way to respond. Yet, it is a response that has had consequences, in fact, it is said, that in the 20th century alone, there have been over 70 million faithful who have given their lives for the faith, 65% of whom were within the last century, so that the challenge to live as a Christian, the challenge to follow God’s laws, in the midst of all others, especially in this day and age, is a call that takes strength, courage and a strong faith.

Because, whether we like to think about it or not, we are slowly starting to see what the very first Christians had to endure, when their government no longer protected them but sought to silence them, when their government passed laws that would take away their religious freedom and when what belonged to God was no longer claimed as their own.

That is why, though a good Christian should also be a good citizen, he is always a Christian first, and that is the challenge for all of us in this day and age. Yet, truth be told, when all is said and done, it shouldn’t be a challenge at all, but, rather, an affirmation of the magnitude and the power that God truly has, because, as simple as it sounds, He is our God, our glory, and, at heart, He truly is, or should be, our everything.

So that, when we render to God what is His, we realize, indeed, we are rendering everything, because everything is His, the state, the government, the nation, the universe, and every last person within it.

That is why we are called to always remain steadfast as Christian citizens, to be, as one priest put it: “children of God in the halls of government as well as in the living-rooms of our friends.”

For, by doing so, as Jesus taught us, we will, ultimately, know the importance of giving to “Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”

Respect Life Sunday, Cycle A

2011-10-02T23:16:00.000-04:00

Years ago, before I was a priest and when my faith wasn’t that strong, I was in a bookstore and happened to see this book. It is the famous Encyclical by Bl. John Paul II, simply entitled: The Gospel of Life. And, I remember opening to one page, the page where he quotes the Book of Wisdom, which says: “God did not make death, and he does not delight in the death of the living.”

It was a simple, stark and insightful line that really struck me, but, at the time I’m not sure I completely understood it or, perhaps, even agreed, since so many instances in the Scriptures seem to point to the contrary. In fact, in our very readings today, our first reading ends with bloodshed and the Gospel ends with the very son of the father being killed.

And all the Gospels, apart from St. John, seem to focus a great deal upon Jesus’ death. Yet, what’s clear now, that wasn’t clear to me before, is that none of those Gospels end there, rather, they end with the Resurrection, they end with life.

That is why, all throughout the world, there are people speaking, at this very moment on the importance of life, of giving a voice to those whose voice can either not be heard or will not be heard, because today is not just the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time, it is not just the Feast of the Guardian Angels, it is also a day that the Church has reserved for the celebration of life, life in all its many forms, and it is known as Respect Life Sunday. And, though it is unfortunate that we even have to set apart a day for this specific purpose, it is needed now more than ever.

Because, contrary to what we might think or hear, the Church is not trying to cause further division and upset, or stir up controversy, but rather, in the words of Bl. John Paul II, to celebrate the “Gospel of Life” a Gospel that, as he says, is “to be preached with dauntless fidelity as ‘good news’ to the people of every age and culture,” because, as he points out: “The Gospel of Life is at the heart of Jesus’ message.”

And, yet, it is precisely this Gospel that is daily threatened, especially at the key moments when life becomes life at conception and when life is coming to an end at death. We have found thousands of ways to intervene at these moments or create our own and, in the process, the whole idea, value and concept of life itself becomes a political argument, a choice, a vote, no longer a natural and beautiful process, no longer a moment of joy, but a decision, and a subject feared to be spoken in mixed company.

That is why the simple action of standing up for life in what Bl. John Paul II called a “culture of death,” not only takes courage but, indeed, faith, because our faith is more than what we profess each Sunday, it is what we live each and every moment of our lives and shapes who we are, what we are, what we believe and what we stand for in the public arena. That is why life issues, as we call them, should not be political, because they are the very fabric of who we are as human beings, from conception to natural death.

I am, of course, not trying to oversimplify it, by any means, I know there are countless situations that exist, there are times when we feel as though there are no other options, but, truth be told, there are, and I don’t think many of us realize that there are many services that exist and countless people willing to help, options that are not just limited to the decision before, but, also, the effects after.

That is why, at the risk of going a little longer, I want to share a story about a young couple in their early twenties, newlyweds, who had their lives before them and a difficult decision they had to make of keeping a child or not.

The would-be parents were conflicted as to what they should do, the would-be father was more of the mindset that finances were difficult, that they were not settled as a couple, and that they might be better off not having the child at that time. The would-be mother, however, disagreed and, despite valid fears and concerns, which she gave to God, she decided it best to have the child and that is what they did.

When the child was born the father was the first to hold the child in his arms, and he wept, and he loved the child and he realized none of his concerns mattered anymore, because all that mattered was that child. In fact, he was so overcome that he even left the room forgetting to let the mother hold the child.

Today, that child is a priest and he is standing before you right now. I was that child, and, while my parent’s story is not a unique story, it is a common one, and their choice has made all the difference in the world, their choice brought a priest in your midst.

Let us then pray today for all of those who face a similar situation, interceding on behalf of all the saints, those who have brought the celebration of their lives in our world and ask them to have a greater awareness and love for life, all life, from conception to natural death.

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A (September 11th)

2011-09-10T14:10:00.007-04:00

Today marks the anniversary of September 11th, a date we all know, a date we cannot help but know, a date we will never forget. And, as time moves on and the events less frequent in our collective conscience, we pause to recall those same horrible events, yet, we do so not to experience the pain, which is bound to happen, but to remember how as a nation we came together, how as a nation heroes were made, and how as a nation we mourned and we prayed as one.

For, 10 years ago our lives were, forever, changed.

Yet, something always interesting seems to happen on this day, which I am unsure happens by design or is Providential, or a little of both, but, usually, at least one or both of the readings during Mass happens to center around forgiveness, the destructive nature of anger, or the importance of life itself.

It is no wonder then that our readings today speak to all three, especially on this 10th anniversary, for, usually, in the midst of great tragedy we look to the Scriptures for consolation and hope and, yet, today, we are asked, above all things, to forgive.

Yet, how do we forgive when the memory is etched into our minds, or when we look at the skyline and only see two lights where two great towers used to stand?

It seems impossible and more idealistic than anything else.

Yet, as our first reading tells us: “Forgive your neighbor’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven.” In other words, our forgiveness of another’s faults brings forgiveness to us as well because the anger we hold towards another not only prohibits us from forgiving the other person, but also from having the capacity of being forgiven ourselves.

Put another way, forgiveness, by its very nature, asks us to accept our own faults and in understanding those faults to understand the fault of another. That is why Jesus tells us to forgive not just seven times, but seventy-seven times, a number that, in biblical terms, is equivalent to infinity, and the number with which God has used to ultimately pay our debt, with His sacrifice. For, if His forgiveness is infinite, and we are unworthy of that, as our first reading asks: “Could anyone refuse mercy to another like himself?”

Now, of course, I am by no means trying to imply that we would do the same things, but rather to recognize the sad truth that all human beings are, unfortunately, capable.

In fact, St. Augustine, in his Confessions, realizing this, said: “There is no sin or crime committed by another which I myself am not capable of committing through my weakness; and if I have not committed it, it is because God, in His mercy, has not allowed me to and has preserved me in good.”

Either way, forgiveness is never easy, in fact, it is one of the greatest challenges of being a Christian, but when we refuse to let go, we not only carry the anger and the hurt, we also carry the person with us, which causes the greatest pain of all.

There was one man who recognized this, one man who, perhaps, stands as one of the greatest examples of forgiveness. Pope John Paul II was shot and seriously injured but, miraculously, he survived. Although, most people probably wanted to kill the man who shot him, John Paul II did not, in fact, he visited him in prison and not just visited him, but, made it a point of forgiving him. He didn’t need to do that, he could have held on to the anger, refuse even to see him, but instead he went to him, in his attempted killer’s darkest hour, and did just the opposite.

Forgiveness is never easy, our Gospel makes that clear, but forgiveness is not impossible since, as we know, all things are possible with God. Therefore, let us seek to practice forgiveness everywhere, in our hearts, in our lives and, most especially, as we recall those tragic events this day, watching as those two bright blue lights shine where two strong towers used to reside.

So that, one day we may to come to a point of forgiveness, to free our hearts of the burdens and resentment, knowing that by doing so, we will learn to forgive freely and fully from our heart knowing that then and only then will our bitter grief and tremendous suffering fully subside.

So that as it reminds in our first reading, we will not hate our neighbor, but, rather, remember the Most High's covenant, and, ultimately, knowing the true freedom found in the fullness of forgiveness.

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-09-04T12:08:00.002-04:00

The English poet John Donne has a very famous book of meditations known as Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions. It consists of countless meditations that he penned while suffering from cancer. Although, the entire book may not be familiar to you, there is a very famous meditation, known simply as meditation XVII. It is a meditation simply titled: “no man is an island,” and while all of it is incredibly moving, it is the first sentence that has become extremely popular.

It says: “No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.” It was a recognition, on Donne’s part, that, on some level, we are all connected and in communion with each other. On some level the person sitting right next to you is your sister or your brother. On some level, we are part of a great human family. He explains this earlier in his meditation when he says:

“The church is Catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she does, belongs to all. When she baptizes a child, that action concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that head which is my head too, and ingraffed into that body, whereof I am a member. And when she buries a man, that action concerns me; all mankind is of one author.”

And, our readings today remind us of this extraordinary reality, that all of us are part of this larger body and that all of us, consequently, have a responsibility to each other.

In fact, Pope Benedict, speaking to the youth in Madrid, said that it is the very basis of our faith and that: “Having [such] faith,” as he says, “means drawing support from the faith of your brothers and sisters, even as your own faith serves as a support for the faith of others.” So that our very faith is formed by this truth, that, as he also says: “Growing in friendship with Christ necessarily means recognizing the importance of joyful participation in the life of your parishes, communities and movements, as well as the celebration of Sunday Mass.”

In other words, our faith is not individual and our prayer not solitary. So that whether we are offering the sacrifice on Sunday or praying on our own, our prayer is always united to the countless prayers of each one of us, so that we are never an island unto ourselves but, literally, always, “a part of the main.”

That our prayers are part of what connect us, our prayer helps us to see that, indeed, we are part of the larger Body of Christ. It is no wonder then that Jesus assured His disciples, that where two or three are gathered, He is in the midst of them, because when we pray, whether alone or not, we pray with the entire Body of Christ, we pray with the saints in Heaven and those on earth, building up the Body and keeping it strong. Yet, at the same time, it is also possible to do the opposite, to wound the Body by our sin.

That is what our readings also point to, that our responsibility as Christians extends beyond ourselves to all of those who are our brothers and sisters in Christ, and that their sin can wound just as badly as our own. And, our responsibility is actually to say something, for as our first reading reminds, if we choose to not do or say anything then we too are at fault, we will be held just as responsible as the other person. One priest, preaching on these same readings, puts it a little less tactfully, he says: “We are not allowed simply to let our sisters and brothers live in ignorance and sin. Instead, we are called to be proclaiming our faith and to stating clearly what is right and what is wrong.”

That is our responsibility as being part of this Body of Christ, and while it may seem challenging, it is St. Francis, with whom I leave you with that helps give some perspective. A man approached him and said, "Brother Francis, I am in a quandary. In the Bible it says we should rebuke sinners, but I see people sinning all the time. I don't feel like I should go around rebuking everybody."

St. Francis thought and then said, "What you must do is live in such a way that your life rebukes the sinner - how you act will call others to repentance."

As a Christian our example is the strongest message we have, let us always live as Christians then wherever we may be.

The Feast of the Assumption of Mary, Cycle A

2011-08-15T08:35:00.000-04:00

Today we celebrate the feast of the Assumption of Mary, when Mary returned body and soul before Her Son in Heaven. “Preserved immune,” as Pope Pius XII said it, the one who decreed this feast, “from the corruption of the tomb…there to sit in splendor at the right hand of her Son, the immortal King of ages.”

For, unlike Eve who disobeyed God’s requests, when God asks Mary, she always says “yes.” This is why we call Mary the “New Eve” and why being preserved from the stain of sin, she was preserved from the wages of sin, which is, indeed, death itself.

So that, as a result, her life was simply a life of humble praise and adoration to God who bestowed upon her such a great and immaculate grace. It is no wonder then, that our Gospel today is the Magnificat, one of the greatest prayers of humility and praise.

For, Mary runs in haste to greet her cousin Elizabeth, to share the excitement of both of their pregnancies, yet somehow she becomes the center of attention and Elizabeth turns to Mary and says “how is it that the mother of my Lord should come to me.” Yet, Mary turns the attention to where it should be, on God Himself, with that simple proclamation, “my soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord.”

Yet, this translation is not entirely accurate, the proper translation of what Mary says is actually: “my soul magnifies the greatness of the Lord,” which, incidentally, is why we call it the Magnificat. And, while it may seem to be splitting hairs, that one word emphasizes this proclamation and truly conveys the fullness of her meaning, of what it is she wants to say.

For, to proclaim something is to make it known, to make others see what they may not see themselves, yet, when something is magnified it is seen a lot clearer, a lot larger, and, in more detail, yet the most important thing is that the magnifying glass, as it were, becomes secondary to the thing being magnified. In other words, though the magnifying glass is important, its purpose is not on itself, but on what it shows.

For, just as Mary was and is important to us and to the entire plan of salvation, her purpose was never to focus on that plan but to focus on Him who allowed her to be part of that plan.

That is why her departure from this world was nothing more than a mere continuation of her life here on earth, because her life was an unbroken “yes” to God, which reached its culmination when she entered Heaven.

And, while her life was unique, being free from sin, she is our model of virtue and our model of holiness, for, though she sets the bar high, her life is the life we should all strive to imitate and to follow. To see each day as a new opportunity to praise and proclaim the greatness of the Lord, to be that source of magnification, the microscope, the magnifying glass, as it were, that is constantly seeking and always finding new ways of letting God be known to the world.

So that with the same prayer of Mary, this Magnificat, upon our lips, we, too, will be able to confidently say: “all generations shall call me blessed, because the Almighty has done great things for me.” And, by following Mary’s example, Mary’s humility, Mary’s life, we can hope for her same reward, where the culmination of our own life will be fulfilled and we will, at last, be truly home in Heaven.

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-08-13T20:37:00.000-04:00

This Monday we will celebrate the feast of the Assumption, when Mary was assumed body and soul into heaven; a feast that reminds us that Mary is, indeed, a pure vessel in which Christ chose to dwell, and, as thus, was rewarded, upon her death with the immediate reward of heaven.

So that, by becoming this pure vessel, this “first tabernacle,” this house for the indwelling of God, she shows us that, by extension, we too, when we receive communion, become the same. Yet, what’s more, is that elsewhere in Scripture it says our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, individual houses of God, mini-chapels, as it were. And, as with any temple or chapel they are also, as Isaiah says, in our first reading today, “houses of prayer.” So then, in a very real sense, each of us is a house of prayer.

And, as with any house that is filled with prayer, our lives become immersed and overflow with the graces and the benefits of that prayer, namely, faith, the ability to believe without seeing, or, in the case of our Gospel, to ask without fear.

The Canaanite woman approached with faith, uttering those simple words: “Lord, help me,” but when denied her request does not waver in her faith, but rather, affirms it with her response. For although Jesus, in so many words, called her a dog for asking for help, she was adamant, unmoved and confident in her faith, even agreeing with Jesus but still seeing herself worthy of help. And it is only faith, strong faith that can give someone the strength to still believe in the healing when even the healer Himself denies the request.

This is the true test of our love for God, for it is easy to believe in Him when He is near to us, but the strength of our faith is revealed when it seems as though He has abandoned us, ignored or denied our requests, our pleas for help, our sincerest prayers.
Yet, it is the saints that teach us how we are to respond, what it is we are to do in those situations, and that is, quite simply, to continue to pray, to persevere in the seeming darkness, to constantly remain a house of prayer.

St. Therese of Lisieux, it is believed, suffered immensely from the inability to know God in her later years, seemingly ignored by Him, yet, it is said, she would do something extreme, she would prick her finger and write the creed in her own blood. And, if her struggle in her faith persisted, she would scratch, on the doorway of her cell, in utter rejection, absence and emptiness, the simple words: “Jesus is my only love.”

She sought, struggled and fought for her faith and, while her example is, indeed, extreme, she teaches us the importance of the perseverance we must all have as well. That we must make ourselves, especially in those times of doubt, despair and emptiness more than a mere house of prayer, but a building, a castle, a fortress of prayer, unmoved by doubts, steadfast, despite rejection, and persistent even when it seems as though God has truly abandoned us.

It was this that gave that Canaanite woman hope, the only thing that gave St. Therese hope, the only thing that gave any of the saints hope, and it is the only thing that will give us hope. So that with that same unwavering faith, with that same steadfast perseverance we too can approach God in confidence and hope, and be consoled when Jesus says those incredibly powerful words to us as well: “Great is your faith, let it be done for you as you wish.”

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A (Faith)

2011-08-06T11:56:00.002-04:00

How does a man walk out onto a raging ocean? Where does he find strength to do the seemingly impossible? How can he have such great trust, such confidence stepping off a boat into violent waters?

With faith, simple, strong and pure faith.

I once read somewhere that faith is not faith until it is all you are holding on to. We don’t decide to have faith, we trust in that faith, this is why we say we take a leap of faith, because we don’t know if in taking that leap we might fall or be supported, that we might sink to the bottom or defy every law of nature and walk on water.

Yet, as outlandish and as extraordinary as it may seem, Jesus told us that with faith even as tiny as a mustard seed we could move mountains, uproot trees, even raise the dead. Things that seem not just irrational, but, indeed, impossible, yet that is the promise, that is His promise, and all we need is to believe, to trust and to know.

We have faith because we love, and it is in that love that we learn to trust. For, it is only those that we truly love that we truly trust. That is why our faith demands so much, because we freely entrust ourselves to a God we cannot see, but at the same time, love enough to do what He asks of us.

That is why St. Peter, without thinking, can step out of a boat, being tossed back and forth, with waves crashing before him and walk toward Jesus, confident and unafraid, that is, until he looks away.

For, once he looked away, he realized what was happening: he was indeed walking on water, defying any rational explanation, and his fear got the best of him. He was distracted and he started to sink.

The same may happen to us as well, we, too, may get distracted, look away, the same way St. Peter did, and get caught up on those things that are unimportant so that we no longer look into the eyes of Jesus but look to ourselves, wondering why our lives have fallen into turmoil and forgetting how much we are truly capable of with faith.

That is why we need to look to Elijah in our first reading today. He went to a cave and never heard God until he stopped paying attention to the earthquake, the wind, and everything else, for when he truly started to listen, becoming unaware of the distractions and the turmoil and recognizing only the quiet it was then that he was able to hear the voice of God.

And, when God speaks He doesn’t ask for much, He asks only that we listen and in listening have that faith and confidence, have that undying trust to follow Him, whether it means believing that bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ or, like St. Peter, walking out on water, no matter how impossible it may seem.

Years ago, I was on a retreat and in reflecting on this very powerful Gospel I was inspired to write a little poem with which I would like to end with today. It is simply titled: “faith”

I will walk on water
Once
When my faith is strong
Taking strides,
Balanced on mirrored footsteps,
Watching the sun dance
In tiny ripples

I will try to find my way
To the other side.

Only, just when I come close
I will remember, like St. Peter,
That I am only a man.

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-07-24T11:56:00.000-04:00

In our Gospel, there are two people, one who somehow stumbles upon the greatest treasure in the world and another who, after years of searching, finally discovers the pearl that he had been searching for all his life.

Yet, what is interesting is what both do when discovering their respective treasure, they don’t take it or even use it, but rather sell all they have in order to buy it. In other words, this treasure is far more important than any other treasure they have, and, not just that, it seems to put in perspective for them the true worth of those things that they do have in their lives, showing, in essence, that their worth only has value in light of this great treasure.

Perhaps, that may sound a bit abstract, but think of it this way, all of us, when we were children, had something we really wanted and stopped at nothing to get, trying to make as much money as possible in order to finally buy this great thing, or even being a little sneaky by hiding it somewhere in the store, until we had enough money to buy it insuring it would still be there, like the man with the field. Yet, when and if we finally got whatever it was, it was great, exactly what we wanted that is, until something better came along.

Now, just imagine this multiplied 100X, 1,000X, a million times, stumbling upon or searching almost all of our lives for this something which is so great, so amazing that nothing in this world could possibly compare to it, something more valuable than all of those things we desire or could imagine to have in our lives combined, that is the treasure and the pearl in our Gospel today.

The difference though is that this treasure, this pearl, cannot be bought with money, it does not have monetary value, in fact, it shows that those things of true worth are not bought but given, cannot be purchased but need to be earned or, as I once saw on a bumper sticker recently, the best things in life aren’t things.

The pearl is that treasure that awaits those who want it, that pearl is where our greatest desires, our greatest loves, our greatest anything abides. That is why it cannot be found on earth, that is why we would sell everything, give everything for this pearl, because nothing here could even come close to compare to it’s ultimate value. For, while we may catch a glimpse of it’s shimmer, while we may see a piece of what it can offer, as St. Paul says elsewhere, we see dimly, as in a mirror, but then face to face.

Because the pearl is the Kingdom of God and it is not something we can always easily find, nor even easily see, especially in this day and age, which is why it is our faith that helps us to know the value of what we have and what we can have.

For, just like anything that God gives to us, the pearl is not lost nor is it actually hard to find, it was given to us when Jesus opened the shell of the cross, as it were, and, while we need to work for it, we don’t have to search for it or stumble upon it, instead we need only be ready to let go of those things that can distract us from it or lead us away, because, to use a very clichéd phrase, all that glitters is not gold, and all promises of a great pearl here and now is probably not a pearl we want.

That is why our faith will lead us in wisdom, like it did Solomon in our first reading today, because like those two men in our Gospel, we will know that our greatest treasure will never leave us wanting, that all of our longings will be fulfilled so that in great joy, we can inherit the greatest treasure of all, indeed, the Heavenly kingdom, the true pearl of great price.

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-07-17T10:13:00.000-04:00

In our spiritual lives, a battle is constantly waged between our desire for holiness and our sinfulness, so that as we grow, as the seed of faith starts to flourish, there is always next to us the weeds, our sins, reminding us where we have come from and how easily we can give up being a child of God to becoming a child of the evil one, as it were. That concurrently, as we grow in holiness, our sin is always before us, casting its shadow and constantly trying to impede that growth.

It was something the saints were constantly aware of, afraid of, and daily struggled with, knowing that the more and more they grew in holiness the more they feared returning to their old sins. St. Augustine, in fact, called them, his “old friends,” constantly aware, as they were, that, as we see in countless cartoons, the angel on one shoulder has a devil on the other.

Yet, as strange as this may sound, it seems that we need both, that there is a need for the weeds to grow alongside the wheat, because then we have something to fight for, then we have a goal and a purpose, then we know the value of our struggles and what holiness truly entails.

Because, as much as we think we are in control of our own spiritual lives, we realize this is not the case, that the struggle makes us keenly aware of how truly entangled the wheat and the weeds can become if we are not careful.

Our second reading beautifully reminds us of this, it is the Spirit who helps us along the way, it is the Spirit who intercedes on our behalf, and it is even the Spirit who teaches us how to pray.

While that may sound a little circular or illogical, it shows us how truly dependent we are on God, and He shows us how by living with the weeds, as it were, we come to better fulfill and understand His Will in our lives.

Because, while the wheat and weeds grow together, while our holiness is always overshadowed by the fear of our own sinfulness, if we endure, if we allow ourselves to grow, even in the midst of difficulties and of suffering, especially in the midst of difficulties and of suffering, allowing the Spirit to make intercession for us, the weeds will have no power.

And while they will be there with us until the end, they will not conquer us, rather, they will be there to constantly remind us, that, in the great words of Oscar Wilde, of whom I would like to leave you with today: “The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.”

15th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-07-09T21:31:00.002-04:00

Every single one of us, whether we realize it or not, has had their faith born from a tiny seed. Somewhere, somehow, this tiny seed of faith fell and germinated in our hearts and in our lives.

And, from it, we have become, in a spiritual sense, anything from a mighty oak to the tiniest plant, for though that seed contained within it everything we needed to have a strong faith it was the soil, the way in which we received it in our hearts, that made all the difference.

For, as many saints and scholars will tell us, if we understand the soil as our hearts, the sower as the Holy Spirit and the seed as the Word of God, then that seed depends on us, that seed depends upon our disposition to our faith, to our beliefs, and, especially to the Word of God.

Because, every single day countless words are spoken to us, from all different directions, from all different sources; yet, something different happens when those words are compared to this Word, the Word of God. There is something there that is not present in our words, because the Word of God has power, authority and goes beyond something that simply inspires us but moves us to love and to act in accordance with God’s Will.

The degree to which that happens though is completely dependent upon the soil of our hearts and how receptive we are to the Word at that time. For, sometimes we may hear the Word but cannot believe or accept what we hear and so close ourselves off.

Other times we may allow our hearts to be so hardened that the Word means nothing to us and cannot take root. Other times, we may be inspired by the Word, moved by it, seemingly changed by what we have heard, until other things take precedence over it, choking it with the thorns of our own anxieties, our desires and wants, allowing them to uproot our stability and to cause the very foundation of that word to crumble.

Yet, when we have tilled the soil of our hearts, softening it with prayer, and allowing it to establish roots, that is when the Word truly changes us, so that the grace and power of the Word germinates and multiplies itself over and over again.

So that each seed does not just fall on the ground and die but, instead, goes to work within every soul it was planted to change the ground and to literally transform that soul in a way that no poem, no book, no speech has the power to do in the same capacity, the same way and the same strength.

This is what makes the Word of God so important, and why sometimes it fails to affect us in the way it should, because our hearts are not ready to hear it.

Therefore, let us strive take the Word and allow it to not just touch but transform our very hearts, our very souls, to permeate the entirety of our lives, and live it as though there was nothing else we could hear with the same power in this world, because, truly there isn’t.

Knowing, ultimately, in the end, by allowing it to fall on such fertile ground that that tiny seed of faith that germinated in our own hearts has the same potential, the same power, to do the same in another.

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A (Come to Me)

2011-07-02T23:19:00.000-04:00

“Take my yoke, upon you, and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart.”

Arguably, this is one of the most beautiful passages in Scripture because Jesus invites us to lay down our burdens and, in Him, find rest. And, He does so, by focusing on a simple word, an uncommon word, yoke.

A yoke, quite simply, is what two oxen would wear while farming. In fact, this (look above) is what one might look like. It is U shaped and placed upon their backs, harnessing them together to pull either a wagon or large amounts of weight.

What is interesting about the yoke, however, is that it is specifically designed for each of their backs, their own personal yoke, as it were, and it is designed in such a way that the weight is equaled out between the two oxen, so if one could not carry the burden, the other ox would have to bear the weight.

Therefore, we need only look at the Cross to see what Jesus is implying, that our Cross, though strictly ours, as it were, is not a weight we bear alone. For, if we did so, the Cross would either fall from our shoulders, fall squarely upon them or it would merely crush us.

Yet, that is what it means to take up our Cross, to embrace the same as Jesus, to carry the same that He carried, to take His yoke and to learn from Him, because wrapped up in this very mystery of the Cross is the difficult reality that the more weight we bear the more He gives, not because He likes to watch us suffer, but because He knows it makes us stronger and, whether we like to admit it or not, we too know this to be true.

And though, during those times, especially, it may seem as if He has abandoned us, forgotten us, or no longer cares, it is, instead, just the opposite, He is guiding us, inspiring us, and, in weight lifting terms, “spotting us,” just in case we can no longer bear such tremendous weight upon our shoulders and in our lives.

For, our Cross, ultimately, reminds us, as St. Paul did in our second reading, that we are spiritual people in the flesh. In other words, our suffering reminds us that we are fragile human beings and that as strong as we make ourselves, without the Spirit, we can never endure, that without our own yoke, our own cross, laid on the back of Christ, our burden will be too great and the weight too much to carry.

That is why Christ invites us today and always, to go before Him, labored and burdened and to seek rest, because, truly He has something great to give us, a yoke that is easy and a burden that is, indeed, light.

Solemnity of The Most Sacred Heart, Cycle A

2011-07-01T10:12:00.001-04:00

Every single one of us is loved by God, the fact that we exist at this very moment is proof of this, because, in one of the greatest mysteries of all, we were loved into existence, which means that God knows each and every one of us individually, that, as it says elsewhere, He knows every single strand of hair on our head.

So that, this seemingly remote God, knows us better than we know ourselves, that this same God loves us that much. And, even when we betrayed Him, even when we turned our back on Him for something seemingly better, for a false desire to be as God Himself, rather than taking that love away, He did something else, He, as our Father, sent His beloved Son into the world so, that, as it says in our second reading: “we might have life through Him.” For, as it also says: “this is love: not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as expiation, [as deliverer] for our sins.”

That is why today we celebrate the great Solemnity of the Sacred Heart to remind us of this love and the power with which, as we just heard in that very short but beautiful Gospel, our hardness of heart can be taken away and we can learn from Him the greatest lesson of all, to have a humble and sincere heart, one that constantly beats for the same things He wants and desires.

Because the love of God is completely undeserved and if we but truly understood this our one desire, our only desire would be to fall on our knees for the rest of our lives, to pray more and to sin less, because without this love, God would mean nothing, what we do would be pointless, and our very lives would be empty.

It may sound extreme, but we are not dealing with normal love, we are dealing with divine love, and it demands much more, because, as it says in our readings, we have not loved Him, but He has loved us first, and it is He who teaches us what love truly is.

In fact, St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, a mystic who gave us this great devotion to the Sacred Heart was at prayer once and, as she says, she begged God to make known to her how she could satisfy her desire to love Him more. She said: “He gave me to understand, that one cannot better show one’s love for him than by loving one’s neighbor for love of him,” as she continued: “I must work for the salvation of others, forgetting my own interest in order to espouse those of my neighbor, both in my prayers and in all the good I might be able to do by the mercy of God.”

In essence, as one of the great prayers to the Sacred Heart reminds, to say each and every day “Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like your heart.”

For, by doing so, He will teach us how to make our yoke, that is, our burdens, light and will show us true rest in Him, taking, as we hear in another part of Scripture, our stony hearts and making them into hearts of flesh, making them holy and compassionate so that our hearts live, beat, always and everywhere, with, in and for Him.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us!

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, Cycle A

2011-06-18T21:48:00.000-04:00

Today, we celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, the day in which we celebrate one of if not the greatest mysteries of our Catholic faith. A mystery that has eluded countless scholars, theologians, Doctors of the Church, and some of our greatest saints, and, it is even said to be the hardest homily for a deacon or priest to prepare because, by its very nature, it is very easy to get deeply theological, overly complex and incredibly philosophical.

To give you an idea of this, I once heard a homily where the priest gave handouts so that the Congregation could follow along, (something I will not be doing) and it is even said that St. Augustine, a great saint, theologian and Doctor of the Church only understood this difficulty after an experience he had.

It is said he was walking on the beach one day, contemplating the mystery of the Trinity, when he came across a little child who dug a hole in the beach close to the water. He watched as this little child took a spoon and went back and forth with a spoonful of the ocean and dumped it into the hole. Finally, St. Augustine went over to this child and asked him what he was doing, to which the child responded that he was trying to empty the sea into that hole. St. Augustine told him it couldn’t be done, to which the child responded that he would be more successful in doing that than St. Augustine would be in comprehending and fully understanding the Blessed Trinity.

So, then logical question is why even bother trying to contemplate the Trinity in the first place?

It was the great Catholic author and apologist, Frank Sheed, who gives us the answer, he says: “The doctrine of the Trinity is the inner, the innermost, life of God. His profoundest secret. He did not have to reveal it to us. We could have been saved without knowing that ultimate truth. In the strictest sense it is His business, not ours.” Sheed then explains that even given this, it was revealed to us for no other reason, than out of love, for, as Sheed beautifully puts it: “It is the surest mark of love to want to be known.”

God then revealed Himself as a Trinity not to cause confusion and frustration, but to help us to grow in love of Him and to come know Him better, for, truly, God wants to be known.

And, so then the next logical question is what does He want us to know?

Simply stated, He wants us to know that “eternity” that “infinity” are not fancy scientific terms, but where He dwells, and that despite being outside from where we are, we are being held in existence, at this very moment, by Him, so that as remote as that may feel, He is, at the same time, closer to us than anyone could ever be. And that though Jesus became man, giving God a human face, as it were, He is only the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, not the entire Trinity, for the Trinity, is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

And, within that Trinity, a deep intimacy exists that we could never fully fathom but get a glimpse of as we do in our second reading today with St. Paul’s greeting: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.”

That is why we say that The Trinity is God in three persons, Father, Son, and Spirit and that they are three distinct persons, yet one in divine nature and that the Father is not the Son, the Son is not the Holy Spirit, and the Father is not the Holy Spirit. Which is why we also say with countless creeds that: “They are all equal in glory, uncreated, boundless and eternal.” Something we profess each Sunday and confidently say we believe.

But why would God want to reveal such a deep mystery to us? Why would He want us to ponder the very essence of who He is knowing how limited our minds truly are?

Perhaps, it is because by pondering the Trinity we walk into the very mystery of our Christian lives, the deepest, most profound, and most beautiful facet of our identity, the same in which we were baptized, the same in which we begin any prayer, the same that we bless ourselves with when walking into this church, marked by God, our soul His own.

Perhaps, God could have allowed us to understand more, to be a greater part of this mystery, as it were, but maybe that is the mystery itself, or maybe it is because of this that we constantly desire Him, His love, His intimacy, and go to Him in prayer, because, if we can never fully know someone completely here on earth, how much more when it is God Himself?

This is why to truly understand the Trinity we have to begin in prayer, we have to come to know this same Father, Son and Holy Spirit. In fact, when any of the saints put pen to paper to begin to comprehend this vast mystery, they spent countless hours in the presence of the Blessed Trinity, where faith can take us beyond what we can know or comprehend.

It was St. Thomas Aquinas, a great Doctor and scholar of the Church, who wrote thousands upon thousands of pages of theology, a lot of which the Church still uses today, who puts it all in perspective. One day, it is believed, he had a vision of the Trinity, and afterwards said he will never write again, when asked why he said: “I can write no more. I have seen things which make all my writings like straw.” He stopped writing, and died about a year later.

This is why even that small glance, all of our learning can not even come close to this most beautiful of mysteries, and though we should never stop trying to plumb its depths, it will be only a speck of what is in store for us. As St. Paul has said elsewhere: “we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.”

The Trinity is the heart, the greatest secret of God, yet, a secret He has chosen to reveal to us, for us, and that is what we celebrate today, this intimate mystery, that is what we contemplate always, knowing that there is constantly more to learn, knowing His depths are inexhaustible. And giving, in the end, all glory to the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Solemnity of Pentecost, Cycle A

2011-06-11T18:52:00.000-04:00

Today is the feast of the Holy Spirit, the Birthday of the Church, the end of Easter, the great Solemnity of Pentecost. For, today this Third Person of the Most Blessed Trinity descends upon us and fills us with His divine gifts, His supernatural gifts those that Jesus promised us before He departed, the most amazing gifts that could be found in any person.

7 of which we pray for, wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and Fear of the Lord, and countless others that, unseen, the Holy Spirit works in our lives: miracles, healings, discernment of spirits, interpretation of tongues, the list is truly endless, just as God is endless in His bounty and in His gifts.

And yet these gifts not only help to make us holy but, literally, transform us into living vessels, true and lasting Temples of God Himself.

Yet, in spite of that, sadly, the Holy Spirit is probably the most neglected of the Blessed Trinity, the least known or worshipped, because He is Spirit. Therefore, our understanding of Him is limited to symbols, and it becomes hard to connect or worship a dove, tongues of fire, a driving wind or living water.

But that is what makes our relationship with this Third Person of the Blessed Trinity so beautiful and so unique, He is not a little child in a manger or a man nailed to the cross, He is not a Father, but, indeed, Spirit and, as Spirit, He asks not just to make a home within our soul, but to transform our bodies into living Temples of God.

So that those symbols become palpable, more than just ways in which to understand the Holy Spirit, but something we experience as our own.

Diving and plunging into the living water, letting the wind not just move us but breathe into us and fill us and letting the fire, as it did for those in the upper room, to descend upon us, to take control over us and to inflame us so completely that we burn with the love of God so much that we cannot help but bring that love to others.

Because, unseen in any holy man or woman, unseen in the powerful preacher, speaker, or teacher of faith, unseen in the confessor and the healer is this most beautiful, most profound and most powerful Spirit.

For, though the Holy Spirit is, indeed, unseen, like Ezekiel witnessed, once He fills something, it comes to life, whether dry bones, hardened heart, the words we speak or our very actions, especially prayer, for, as St. Paul reminds: “we do not know how to pray as we ought,” rather, it is the Spirit Himself who intercedes on our behalf.

That is why we should daily consecrate ourselves to the Holy Spirit, because within Him, as God, an untapped power dwells, full of everything we need, full of everything we could possibly want, and if we but understood what this meant we would never cease praying to Him, we would never stop asking His intercession, because this day, Pentecost, would be everyday and the Holy Spirit would daily fill our hearts, change our lives and set fire to our soul.

IMAGE FOUND HERE: http://jpsmsu40.deviantart.com/art/holy-spirit-fire-169826936

7th Sunday of Easter, Cycle A

2011-06-04T21:32:00.000-04:00

Jesus has ascended. The Apostles watched as He departed from their presence and returned to the Father, but rather than standing and looking at the sky, lamenting this departure, they returned to Jerusalem, as we heard in our first reading, collectively gathered in the upper room, and there, together, they prayed.

No longer do they seem hesitant, no longer do they doubt what they have seen, nor do they seem confused as to what to do, their lives are now simply governed by prayer, they recognize its power and it instills within them patience as they wait, once again, only this time for the coming of the Holy Spirit.

And, they show us, or at least should show us, how foundational prayer must be in all of our lives, not just personal prayer, however, but communal prayer as well. For, this is how the infant church began, its foundation was a spiritual foundation and from that foundation, they learned patience, they learned to anticipate the coming of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, so that the Church grew and became what it is today.

That is why, like the Apostles, we are called to do the same, to pray, not just for ourselves, but for each other, for this church, for the entire church and to come together not just on Sundays but any day that we can, in order to, literally, meet each other in the midst of the Eucharist, to place those prayers before this altar and, in patience, anticipate the same indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

So that, like the Apostles, we can have a deep and lasting prayer life, especially by following the model of she who was with the Apostles herself, Mary, the mother of Jesus, our Mother and great model and patroness.

And, if, indeed, she stands as our great model to follow, as our example of prayer, then our reading today tells us something, because this is the last time Mary will be mentioned in the Scriptures, and the way we see her is deep in contemplation, quietly anticipating the presence of God.

There was a priest who encapsulated this quite well, he said: “This last portrait that Luke (the author of the Acts of the Apostles) paints of Mary is like the first portrait he painted of her in his Gospel. She is the disciple, he says, who is not paralyzed but who is waiting, praying, expecting that great things are going to happen. That is why, he says, we call her the “Mother of the Church.”

Indeed, it is Mary, above all, who shows us this proper way to pray and how to wait for the coming of the Holy Spirit, but she also shows us something even more as well, that is, how we are to receive the Holy Spirit when He comes.

For, like her, we must be willing to give ourselves completely, so completely, in fact, that our will becomes His Will, so that there is no difference between the two. That like her, our deep prayer life will allow us to be enveloped by the presence of God, completely overshadowed by the power of the Holy Spirit. In fact, this is why Mary is often called the spouse of the Holy Spirit, because she experienced this in greater depth and intimacy than we could ever imagine.

And, because of this, because of this example she leaves us, because of what she teaches us, because of what God has made her, it should be no surprise then that the last time we see her is at prayer.

Therefore, let us look to the example of these Apostles and the example of this humble woman, our Mother and model of holiness, the spouse of the Holy Spirit, and look to her to teach us how to pray, both individually and communally, so that we may live in true humility and quietly anticipate those great things that, if we allow Him, God wishes to do, from that altar, from that tabernacle and throughout all of our lives.

Ascension of the Lord, Cycle A

2011-06-01T22:27:00.000-04:00

Today we celebrate the feast of the Ascension of the Lord, that dramatic moment, when Christ, 40 days after His Resurrection ascended into heaven to return to the Father. A bittersweet departure for the disciples as they watched, as many saints point out, in sadness for His leaving, but in joy knowing that unlike the absence they must have felt at His death, this absence brings Him closer than He ever was before.

And, within this mystery, is the very culmination of the paschal mystery, the crowning achievement of His Passion, death and Resurrection and the very fulfillment of our redemption.

It is a day of victory and a day of longing, because Christ returns to the Father to take with Him our very humanity, entering the heights of Heaven with it in order to raise our fallen flesh. So, that where He goes we also hope to go, seeing Him, as He is, face to face, no longer veiled by His humanity, but fully seen in His glory.

That is why, before He left, He put His disciples to work, so that what they did, we also may do, that their example may become ours. His departure was necessary because it reminds us of this responsibility, the responsibility to become ambassadors of Christ, because just as those disciples were left on their own by Christ to continue His work, we, too are called to the same, to become witnesses to the ends of the earth. So that St. Paul’s hope for us, as we heard in our second reading, will be made real and the eyes of our hearts will be enlightened, so that we may know the hope that belongs to this call, the riches of glory and the true greatness of His power.

Yet, He knew that we could do that alone, that we needed an Advocate and guide, which is why as He ascends, the Holy Spirit descends, so that His promise, the Father’s promise becomes a reality to us.

Therefore, we celebrate more than just Jesus’ Ascension, we celebrate His very victory over sin and death, we celebrate who we are as Christians and what we believe to be true.

That is why the words of those two men, whom many speculate were angels, should echo in our own hearts as well, as a beautiful reminder and as a future promise: “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky? This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.”

His Ascension does not mean He is no longer with us, because, in truth, He can never fully leave us, rather, He only brings us closer to Himself.

That is why it is not the sky we should be looking towards but, rather, what He gave us before He departed, the very gift of Himself in the Most Holy Eucharist. For, He promised He would remain with us until the end of the age, and it is only by this that His promise can be fulfilled, for while we anticipate being with Him in Heaven, we have a foretaste of it in the Eucharist, because we do not gaze upon Jesus alone, but, as He constantly tried to make evident while on earth, the fullness of the Trinity itself, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Therefore, today is a feast, it is a day of celebration, yet, if sadness touches our hearts, as it did the disciples, then, as many saints before us have said, it is, indeed only proof of the love we feel for Him.

So that as He departs, raising His hand in blessing, we know that He has not abandoned us, but has taken us with Him, closer to Himself, to the very heights of Heaven, where at the right hand of the Father, He intercedes on our behalf, where in love, He constantly returns to us, especially, when we receive Him, as we will shortly, in the Most Holy Eucharist.

Surgery Tomorrow

2011-05-22T20:36:00.001-04:00

Keep me in your prayers tomorrow as I will be having pacemaker surgery tomorrow at 2PM. I have to have two leads extracted, and then a new pacemaker put in. Please pray for me. Perhaps, offer a couple of Hail Mary's or a Rosary on my behalf, since I do have great devotion to Our Mother Mary.

God bless,

Fr. Brian

5th Sunday of Easter, Cycle A

2011-05-21T15:23:00.000-04:00

Every day, it seems, there is something new for us to worry about, a new fear, anxiety or concern, whether it be money, work, health, the future, or, as many had expected today (yesterday), the end of the world.

That is why it seems so appropriate to have this Gospel today, hearing the opposite of the world, and rather, the reassuring words Jesus left to His disciples and to us: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me.”

Yet, how do we have such faith? How do we put into practice what we believe? To trust that what we know to be true to be true? The answer, of course, as seemingly simple as it may sound, is always the same: by fully abandoning ourselves to Jesus; to follow, to know, and to believe that, indeed, He is the way, the truth and the life.

Thomas A. Kempis, a 15th century author, in his famous book, Imitation of Christ puts it well, he says: “Without the Way, there is no going. Without the Truth, there is no knowing. Without the Life, there is no living."

Because, we are not being asked to follow just anyone, we are being asked to follow and to trust in Jesus, God Incarnate, He who laid down His very life and then raised it up in order to bring us eternal life; He who leads us to the Father and brings us into the very center and the mystery of this relationship that the Father and the Son share.

A relationship so intimate, in fact, that, as the Catechism beautifully puts it: “Christ’s whole earthly life – his words and deeds, his silences and sufferings, indeed his manner of being and speaking – is Revelation of the Father.”

In fact, this is why when the disciples asked Jesus to show them the Father, He immediately pointed to Himself, saying something that could be seen as very arrogant if, indeed, He isn’t God: “I am in the Father, He says, and the Father is in me.” So that, in essence, the more our relationship with Jesus grows, the more our relationship, indeed, with the Father will grow as well.

That is why, ultimately, when we abandon ourselves to Jesus our hearts should not be troubled, our faith should be unmoved, because our trust will be in God, God made man, who as God has the power to take away all anxiety and fear and, as man, has endured greater sufferings than we could ever know.

Because by following Jesus, we will tread upon the Way that leads to the Father, by knowing Jesus, we will come to know the truth, the truth that will set us free, and by allowing Him into our hearts and our lives, we will seek to find eternal life in the Father’s house, the dwelling place of Heaven.

Good Shepherd Sunday and World Day of Prayer for Vocations, Cycle A

2011-05-14T20:50:00.000-04:00

Every single one of us here shares a common vocation, a universal call from God to fulfill His Will, a universal call to holiness, to become a saint. How we achieve that, how we live that vocation is different for each and every one of us, because God has called us all each individually, but each vocation has one purpose, to make us holy.

For, God in His infinite wisdom, knowing better than us, in spite of what we might think, helped us to realize that some would be better as priests, as deacons, as nuns, as single or married, and that within those vocations themselves we would be given the graces and the support we would need to live lives of sanctification and to live as God wanted us to live.

That is why this Sunday is not just the Fourth Sunday of Easter, but has been designated as both Good Shepherd Sunday and World Day of Prayer for Vocations, because, all vocations are necessary and all vocations, especially in this day and age, are in need of prayer. In fact, we need only turn on a TV or read a news article to see that our universal call has been suffering a lot lately, and that the voice of God calling us forward is being ignored, drowned out or replaced by another more enticing voice.

And, while it may seem a bit strange for Jesus to equate us with sheep in our Gospel today, it helps us to understand the importance of this same voice that refuses to be heard and the important bond that a sheep and shepherd share. There is a little known fact that the relationship between a sheep and a shepherd is very unique, so unique that the sheep only knows and responds to the shepherd’s voice. If another shepherd tries calling that sheep forward, it won’t respond, similarly, if anyone, other than the shepherd himself, tries walking in the midst of a herd that is not his own, there would be much havoc.

So, Jesus is telling us, in the simplest way possible, that to recognize His voice is to show that we know the Will of the shepherd, but, of course, that is the challenge of being a Christian in the first place, to know the Will of God. In fact, that was the constant struggle of the saints, and, if we are honest, the ongoing struggle for us.

But, as Jesus is telling us, to know Him we must listen to Him, and to listen to Him we must spend time with Him, otherwise, we won’t know His voice. The difficulty, however, again, if we are honest, is that we spend so much time filling our lives with noise and distractions, the miracle, indeed, is that His voice can be heard.

However, it was Mother Teresa who put it well, she said: “We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence, she says, to be able to touch souls.”

Because, it is in the silence where we find our vocation, it is when it is us and God, and no one or nothing else that we hear the whisper, the cry or the bellow of the Father.

For, when we hear that voice, when we heed His call, it is then that we find our path to holiness, it is then when we hear and understand that our vocation is not always what we want, but what God wants, not to torture us, but because He knows that this is the path to Him, that this is the way to become a saint, and this is the way that our will truly does becomes His.

For, as the shepherd calls out to His flock, He constantly calls out to us, so that we may always follow Him confident and unafraid, obedient and responsive to His voice, knowing, as we just sang in that beautiful psalm, Psalm 23, in the darkest of valleys, in those things that may take us from Him, in the end, if the Lord is our shepherd, indeed, there is nothing we shall want.

Divine Mercy Sunday, Cycle A

2011-04-30T23:23:00.002-04:00

It seems only fitting that the late Pope John Paul II was beatified today, that is, declared “blessed” of the Church and moves one step closer to canonization, whereby he will be known as a saint of the universal Church.

The reason it is so fitting is because in 2001, he declared the Second Sunday of Easter, today, as Divine Mercy Sunday. It is said, he was so inspired by the diary of a young Polish nun, a famous book simply titled the Diary of St. Faustina, which recounted the countless visions of Jesus to her, that he wanted to fulfill Jesus’ requests.

In fact, that is where the devotion to the Chaplet of Divine Mercy comes from and why it is typically prayed at 3PM, because Jesus had designated that hour as the hour of mercy. The reason it was so named was because that was the when Christ died, that was the hour when He saved us, which is why in that prayer we are to invoke His Passion and repeatedly say: “For the sake of His sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.” So that, upon each bead of the rosary we are literally pleading to the Father for mercy because of what Christ has done.

Yet, it was not enough for Jesus to ask her to have everyone stop at 3PM to pray this powerful Chaplet, He also desired that an entire day to be devoted solely to His Divine Mercy, today, Mercy Sunday, the Second Sunday of Easter when we experience, receive and are covered in a multitude of mercy, covered in all its forms, from the confession of our sins, to that Chaplet, to the very source and summit, the very essence from which mercy flows, the Holy Eucharist.

Yet, what’s more, is Jesus also commanded St. Faustina to paint a picture, as you see here, a picture, however, packed with meaning, in fact, as Jesus Himself explains it: “The two rays denote Blood and Water. The pale ray stands for the Water which makes souls righteous. (in other words, Baptism) The red ray stands for the Blood which is the life of souls. (in other words, the Eucharist) These two rays issued forth from the very depths of My tender mercy, He says, when My agonized Heart was opened by a lance on the Cross.”

That is why today, in a special way, we are called to celebrate, rejoice and glory in God’s limitless compassion, in His unfathomable kindness, in a word, in His infinite mercy. For, He calls us forth to experience again and again the same thing the Apostles experienced, the same thing St. Thomas experienced, faith, the ability to say with the utmost confidence, those same words that are found on the bottom of that image of the Divine Mercy: “Jesus, I trust in You.”

For, that is what St. Faustina teaches us, that is what St. Thomas teaches us, that is what this day teaches us, that is what Pope John Paul II recognized, that mercy is not an intangible, unseen thing, but, rather, the very hand of God holding us, His very love sustaining us, and an ocean that not only envelops us, but covers a multitude of sin.

Therefore, I invite all of you to join us later today as we celebrate this feast of mercy, this opportunity for grace, this moment to state simply and confidently: “Jesus, I trust in you.”

Easter Sunday, Cycle A

2011-04-24T12:35:00.000-04:00

Today, is Easter Sunday, the Sunday of all Sundays, the culmination of what we have done these past couple of days, these past couple of centuries, for today we celebrate a great victory, the very triumph of life over death and the very victory of hope, our hope and the hope of the entire Church.

In fact, today, is why, how, and the very reason the Church exists even in this day and age, because, ultimately, we are a people of the Resurrection, we are, in the words of St. Augustine, an “Easter people,” with one word, one beautiful word, one powerful word, that is our joy, our exaltation and our song, the word: “Alleluia!”

And, because we have fasted from that word for 40 days, because we have been deprived of that song, that most ancient form of praise to our God, we use it in almost everything we say and everything we do, from here on out, because, the pinnacle of our faith can be expressed in that one word alone, becoming the very essence, the overflowing joy that bursts forth from our hearts to our lips so that the defining word mixed with all others is always and everywhere an ecstatic: “Alleluia!”

Yet, this word packed, as it is, with meaning, will lose all significance, all power, and all triumph if it does not recognize what it truly celebrates, if it finds itself empty, not as the tomb was, but as those who were expecting to find Jesus were.

Because to believe the Resurrection is to live the Resurrection, is to know, without a shadow of a doubt that because He is not there, we should not be there either, that, by our Baptism, by the confession of our sins, by the reception of the Holy Eucharist, with Him, in Him and through Him, we are made a new creation, constantly given a new life, a transformed life, flowing with grace upon grace, from the darkness of the Cross to the bright morn of our salvation.

So, that when we say “He is Risen!” It is more than just another pious thing to say, it is the very essence of what we long for, it is the very source of our strength and our ability to stand up without fear, because it is the very core, the very foundation of our faith. For, as St. (Padre) Pio once put it: “It is not enough for us to rise again in imitation of Christ, if, in imitating him, we do not appear as arisen, changed and renewed in spirit.”

For, this is not just one day among Sundays, it is the Sunday, the greatest and most important Sunday in our lives, because it is an opportunity to rise, to become dead to sin and to become fully alive to God, to look at this day as a brand new day, as a Son that will never set, as an eternal morning that will never cease.

That is what we mean when we say “Alleluia!” that is why we cannot stop saying that word, that is why our entire hope, our entire faith rests on this Resurrection Sunday, on this, the day when Christ conquered not just sin but the very wage of sin, death itself.

For, as St. John Chrysostom beautifully puts it in his own Easter homily and with whom I leave you with today: “Christ is risen and [death] is abolished. Christ is risen and the demons are cast down. Christ is risen and the angels rejoice. Christ is risen and life is freed. Christ is risen and the tomb is emptied of the dead: for Christ, being risen from the dead, has become the Leader and Reviver of those who had fallen asleep. To Him be glory and power forever and ever. Amen. Alleluia!

Easter Vigil, Cycle A

2011-04-23T23:26:00.000-04:00

Tonight we all began, as creation began, in darkness, and, in that darkness, we lit a single candle, the Paschal candle, a symbol of Christ, a symbol of that pillar of fire, and from that light, we passed His light to each other, walking side by side into this church, as we stood together while the shadows of darkness disappeared before our light.

For, tonight, “before whom the stars at their posts shine and rejoice” (behind the clouds) as we heard in that beautiful reading before, we, too, now rejoice, as the light of a new dawn bursts forth from the horizon of our hearts.

Because, tonight, more than ever, we are reminded that the very darkness that sin and death has cast over the world has been destroyed.

Which is why we will begin to celebrate one perpetual Easter Sunday for 50 days, ten days longer than Lent, as if to show that the struggle and the sacrifice was worth it, that the reward far outweighs the suffering, that, indeed the cross would be empty without the Resurrection and the Resurrection pointless without the cross.

For, tonight, we celebrate the fact that we are a people of both, those who embrace the heavy wood of our redemption knowing, indeed, it brings us the reward of eternal life.

For, tonight Christ has conquered the cross, tonight, as we just heard in the Exultet: “Christians everywhere are washed clean of sin, restored to grace…[because] Jesus Christ [has] broke[n] the chains of death itself and [has] [risen] triumphant[ly] from the grave.” Tonight, the tomb is empty and death itself drained of all of its power, pierced through by the shining light of the Son of Man, because tonight victory is born.

This is why that great Hebrew word, “Alleluia,” a song in itself of praise and jubilation bursts forth from our mouths, and why, at heart, as St. Augustine says: “We are an Easter people and Alleluia is our song.”

For, the same hope Jesus brought to the entire world when the stone was removed from the tomb is also ours, which why with those first women at the tomb, we, too, should have that same level of excitement, that same desire to run to tell the world, fearful, yet overjoyed, believing that, indeed, Christ is Risen and to know what it means for us, each and every one of us, in our lives and in our hearts.

Because to believe the Resurrection is to live the Resurrection, is to know, without a shadow of a doubt that because He is not there, we should not be there either, that, by our Baptism, by the confession of our sins, by the reception of the Holy Eucharist, with Him, in Him and through Him, we are made a new creation, constantly given a new life, a transformed life, flowing with grace upon grace, from the darkness of the Cross to the bright morn of our salvation.

So, that when we say “He is Risen!” It is more than just another pious thing to say, it is the very essence of what we long for, it is the very source of our strength, the very core, the very foundation of our faith. For, as St. (Padre) Pio once put it: “It is not enough for us to rise again in imitation of Christ, if, in imitating him, we do not appear as arisen, changed and renewed in spirit.”

That is why we say “Alleluia!” this is why we cannot stop saying that word, this is why our entire hope, our entire faith rests on this Resurrection, on this night, on this perpetual day when Christ conquered not just sin but the very wage of sin, death itself.

For, as St. John Chrysostom beautifully puts it in his own Easter homily and with whom I leave you with tonight: “Christ is risen and [death] is abolished. Christ is risen and the demons are cast down. Christ is risen and the angels rejoice. Christ is risen and life is freed. Christ is risen and the tomb is emptied of the dead: for Christ, being risen from the dead, has become the Leader and Reviver of those who had fallen asleep. To Him be glory and power forever and ever. Amen. Alleluia!

Good Friday, Cycle A

2011-04-22T19:11:00.000-04:00

There is an ancient, but beautiful tradition in the Church, that on this day, on Good Friday, we meditate and reflect on Jesus’ final words to us here on earth.

Words that have been so thoroughly scrutinized, debated and, even sometimes, misinterpreted, yet, in each of those weighted words; He leaves us an instruction, a request and a powerful testimony of what it means to imitate Him.

And, since each word He spoke multiplied His pain, each word more difficult than the one before it, since He could barely breathe, these words are, clearly, important, these words meant something to Him and should mean something to us. Therefore, I would like to offer a meditation on these 7 Last Words.

The night before Jesus is arrested, He is in the Garden, and there something happens that, physically, many doctors have said is a distinct possibility, His sweat turns into blood. It is a rare occurrence, to be sure, but it is believed that it only happens when someone is suffering from extreme anguish and stress, a physical reaction to intense psychological and emotional agony.

Yet, given this, it is said, that the skin becomes tender, so that even touching the skin is excruciating. The scourging then was even more painful than it might have been, because each lash of the whip upon His skin was then multiplied.

So, receiving thousands of lashes, being crowned with thorns and dragging a cross was not just grueling but torturous beyond the scope of any pain we could possibly imagine or fathom. This was only made much worse when they laid Him on the Cross, stretched out His arms, and one by one nailed His hands and His feet, and, His response was to plead mercy, not mercy from His accusers or executioners, but mercy from His Father for them: “Father,” He says, “forgive them, for they know what they do.”

Mounted on a cross, He is next to two criminals, condemned of the same crimes; one asks for forgiveness, the other curses Him with the crowd. The man who asks for mercy, knows what he has done, knows that he deserves his punishment, and knows that Jesus does not deserve His. Next to Him hangs a king, a mocked king, but a king that is not of this world. So, this thief makes a simple request: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And, Jesus’ reply is just as simple: “Amen. I say to you, this day, you will be with me in paradise.”

Jesus hangs upon the cross and looks down to see both His mother and His beloved disciple, St. John, two people whom He cared deeply about, yet, what He says to both seems almost impersonal and generic, calling His mother, “woman,” and His disciple “son.”

Yet, these are important words otherwise He would not have spoken them, and, indeed, they are important words, because it is here, at the very foot of the Cross, where Mary becomes our mother, because those generic words are not generic at all, but, rather, universal, so that “woman” reminds us of Eve, the mother of all living, the one who failed, whereas, Mary, the New Eve, becomes the new mother of all living. This, too, is why St. John is referred to as son, because he represents all of us. So, that Jesus’ greatest gift before He dies is His greatest love, His mother: “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, 'Behold, your mother!”

The anguish of the cross is starting to take its toll, physically Jesus is clinging to life, internally, in His humanness, He is experiencing a great mystery, abandonment, desolation and emptiness. So that from the greatest depths of His humanity, from its very core, He could not help but cry out with the Psalmist: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Jesus has been hanging on the cross for a while now, the sun beating down on Him, His wounds still bleeding, if crucifixion did not kill you by asphyxiation, you died by dehydration, so, indeed, He was thirsty. But, His thirst goes far beyond a physical thirst, His thirst was for something much more, in fact, it was the reason He was on the cross in the first place, because His thirst was for our redemption, His thirst was for our conversion. “Aware that everything was now finished, St. John says, in order that the scripture might be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I thirst.””

Jesus’ death draws near, He knows it, He expects it, it is only a matter of time. With the little breath that He has left, He says three powerful words: Words of triumph over evil, words of completion, words that express that what He has come for and to do has finally been fulfilled that His hour has, at last, come: “It is finished.”

In this confidence, with His final breath, He shouts out 8 agonizing words, words of abandonment and word of resignation, so that bowing His head He could leave us our final lesson, a lesson in dying, dying not just physically but spiritually, dying to our very selves: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

Seven words that have transformed the world, converted thousands, moved countless men and women to tears, the seven last and dying words of Christ, who gave His life for our love and for our salvation, so that His cross was not emptied of meaning, but, in the end, the doorway to Heaven and the overflowing fountain of our grace.

The Mass of the Lord's Supper, Cycle A

2011-04-21T21:39:00.000-04:00

Tonight, in spite of all the images that we have of Jesus, the one in our Gospel is probably one of the most memorable, because it is here that He bends down and washes the feet of His disciples, for while St. John the Baptist elsewhere said he was unworthy to merely loosen the sandals of Jesus, since it was something not even a slave was allowed to do, given how humiliating it was, Jesus does not just loosen the sandals, He kneels down, removes them, and then takes their feet in His hands and washes them.

God Himself, stoops to earth to wash the feet of sinful men. Here, in the absence of adornment, our Lord and our God, our very savior, chose this simple but humiliating act to reveal what was in His heart and to give a visible sign of His love that the Apostles would never forget, that we, too, can never forget.

And, what He does He tells us we must do as well: “I have given you a model to follow,” He says, “so that as I have done for you, you should also do.” For, all of us are called to wash each other’s feet as we put into action what we believe and why we believe it, so that we can bring the same love God has shown us in His death and resurrection.

This is why it is no coincidence that the washing of the feet happens on the same night that Jesus institutes the Most Holy Eucharist because the greatest example of love is that ability, like Him, to truly empty ourselves, to embrace the fullness of humility that does not seek its own glorification, but to truly be a servant to all, as He is to us.

For, if we think about it, whether sinful or full of grace, when we receive the sacrament of the Most Holy Eucharist, Jesus, our God and our savior, comes down before us to wholly dwell within our hearts, our lives and our very bodies, so that what we receive, we, literally, become and, in this great mystery, we then pass from death to life, from sin to grace, to become the people of God, His Church.

Yet, this sacrament could not even be present in this church, right now, without a priest, for while all of us share in the common priesthood, it is the ministerial priesthood that Christ instituted on this holy night. And, it is through the priesthood that the Church continues to make Christ present so that from their consecrated hands they don’t merely celebrate sacraments, but literally, like the priests of old, call forth the power of heaven, in spite of their worthiness, upon those same faithful.

Why, how or for what reason they are chosen is a mystery for only God to know, but living what they were chosen for, living their vocation is why we constantly assist them and need to assist them in our prayers, for their sacrifice is not just important but needed because theirs teaches us to live the common priesthood of the faithful.

And, on a personal level, while it is true that my ordination has changed me, it also reminds me that what has been given is purely a gift, and that the power that I have is not my own, but fully God’s, I am merely the unworthy instrument through which He works. That is what makes it so overwhelming and so amazing that he would call anyone, especially me.

Therefore, on this Holy Night let us remember all priests and pray for them that they may carry out, like Jesus that selfless love and dedication, trusting in the gift that they have been given as dispensers of the mysteries of God.

And, as we enter this Sacred Triduum, let us imitate this same humility of our God, being a servant and minister to all, in our prayers and in our actions, so that we may echo those words of Jesus in all of our lives: “as I have done for you, you should also do.”

Passion Sunday, Cycle A

2011-04-16T22:03:00.000-04:00

And here they are, the painful steps of our redemption, so that every move, and every action Jesus makes from this point on has the possibility to save us, every bruise, every gash, every wound a stark reminder of our sins.

That is why these painful steps affect us so deeply, because they are a reminder of who we are, that we are that fickle crowd who cheers and sings “Hosanna in the Highest” and, not a day later, shouting, in great anger, “Crucify Him!”

For, these, indeed, are the steps of our redemption so that our lives, literally, hang in the balance, between Heaven and earth, because His did, and, whether we wanted it or not, we are now walking side by side with Him, we will now enter the very essence of our sanctification.

The greatest of all mysteries will slowly unfold before us, those same that occur upon this altar, at Mass every single day and those same that will draw us into this Holy Week.

A week that points us to the lasting promise of our salvation, because this journey does not end where our Gospel does, nor does it end on Good Friday or even Holy Saturday, for with Christ we will walk not just to Calvary but from the tomb to the eternal promise of the Resurrection, from this Sunday to Easter Sunday and beyond.

5th Sunday of Lent, Cycle A (Lazarus)

2011-04-10T12:14:00.000-04:00

In all of our readings today there is a feeling of something different, an anticipation of something to come, and it seems to exist in the most unlikely of places, in death itself.

Yet, in this death, rather than despair, rather than darkness, it seems to point to a dawn, a light on the horizon, as it were, something not fully realized yet, but coming soon, and it is almost as though death will no longer be able to exist, as if death will be drained of its power.

That is why this anticipation points to one man, one man who, in fact, not only defines what this light is, but embodies it, becoming, as He Himself says, “The Resurrection and the life,” so that we need only believe this to be true, have the faith and confidence that even our greatest enemy, death itself, must bow before Jesus Christ, our Almighty Savior.

In a few short weeks we will celebrate this Resurrection, we will celebrate anew this destruction of death, when, as it says in our first reading, the “graves will be open,” and all will rise from them, and our anticipation will reach its culmination in joy and exultation when we triumphantly sing the Alleluia as though we had never known the word before.

For, these readings are meant to remind us of the very victory of Christ over the sovereignty and grip of sin and death, which is why, next weekend, we will get to see and partake in what that Resurrection truly cost us, we will come to know the very price of our redemption, our salvation, and the great source of our hope.

As we know we could have been saved in any way possible yet, it was the way of the Cross that was chosen, it was Jesus lying on the bed of the wood of our salvation, stretched out only to die. And, yet, if Jesus only died on the cross but was never raised, everything we do would be in vain, everything we believe would be empty and we would still be looking for our Savior.

This is why, though the coming weeks will be painful, as they should be, since they are reminder of what our sins did, we should always have this hope of the Resurrection before us, because, by doing so, we will not be weighed down by the cross but, rather, see it as it should be, that light on the horizon, that hope in the darkness, those two pieces of wood that have saved us and have destroyed the very power, strength and dominion of the darkness of sin and, indeed, of death itself.

4th Sunday of Lent, Cycle A (Blind Man)

2011-04-02T20:42:00.000-04:00

There is a certain irony in that the man who is blind sees Jesus better than those who are following Him with full sight. Yet, the greater irony is that this man has no idea who Jesus is, all he knows is that he has been healed, all he knows is that an unknown person came up to him, placed clay upon his eyes and told him to wash in the Pool of Siloam. That is why when he asked if he believed in the Son of Man, he doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t question, he simply says: “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?”

That is conversion.

And, conversion is a powerfully beautiful thing, because, almost in a moment or, in this blind man’s case, incrementally, we become a different person, so that while we once had closed our eyes to the light of Christ in order to delight in the shadows of sin, we open them once again, allowing ourselves to see who we are, what we are, and how we stand before and in the light of Christ.

And, while you may be tired of me talking about it by now, this is what I am so blessed to see so many times in that confessional, and, even more beautifully, what I got see firsthand, when 15 of you came on Monday night.

For, while most of us have already bathed in the Pool of Siloam by our own Baptism, as it were, and though that Baptism may be long forgotten, the confessional, as many saints have said, and as I keep reiterating, is always our second Baptism.

And, if you don’t believe that, I can say it is the only place that I have seen women, children and even grown men cry because it is so overwhelming and so strong and something we might not have even realized we missed until we palpably felt His love and experienced the power of His mercy once again.

That is why I keep talking so much about this sacrament, and why I keep preaching about it, because it has the ability to change and to transform our entire lives. In fact, we buy all sorts of things that make the same promise, but only the one that costs us nothing, but cost Him his blood is the one that can change who we are.

For, we can be healed by this sacrament and our eyes truly opened so that, as our second reading reminds, we can live as children of light, knowing, ultimately, the priest is merely the instrument and it is Christ who is the healer.

Because, in the end, as our first reading beautifully puts it: “Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance but the LORD looks into the heart.” And, since only we know our hearts, by exposing them before the Light of Christ, they cannot and will not cease to be changed.

Second Sunday of Lent, Cycle A (The Transfiguration)

2011-03-19T21:39:00.000-04:00

Jesus takes Sts. Peter, James and John to the highest mountain, and before their eyes is Transfigured, which literally translated means having undergone a metamorphosis, a change so complete and so pronounced that, as it says: “His face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light.” A clear vision of the coming Resurrection, and some say of the glory of Heaven itself.

St. Thomas Aquinas, in fact, says that before their very eyes the Trinity itself was revealed, the voice of the Father, the Son standing before them and the cloud of the Holy Spirit.

It is no wonder then that St. Peter wanted to build a tent, to preserve, forever, this beautiful and powerful vision of Heaven, in fact, who wouldn’t be so eager?

But, there is something more as well, Jesus is showing us that we cannot see, know, nor appreciate what heaven is, unless we are men and women of prayer, unless we live with the reality that we are truly temples of the Holy Spirit and realize that the very essence of our souls are composed by our prayers. In fact, Pope Benedict says it well, he says: “The Transfiguration of Jesus was substantially an experience of prayer.”

So that every time we, ourselves, kneel in prayer, we experience the same because, that same Christ who was illumined upon that mount, is the same whose bright rays shine upon us from that tabernacle, and each prayer we pray allows to, literally, become a different person, each prayer we pray makes us fully aware that our spiritual existence not only relies but is completely dependent upon that prayer.

In fact, the saints are a great example of this, because they could have had the driest, most painful prayer possible, could have been physically weak and unable to concentrate, yet, they would always persevere, not because they desired such suffering, but because they knew their prayer was the only thing that would, indeed, spiritually and even, sometimes, physically sustain them when nothing else could.

For, the Transfiguration reminds us, that we are not just a body and we are not just a soul, but we are both, and both equally need to be fed, both equally need nourishment and sustenance each and every day, for just as we would not starve ourselves or let ourselves go thirsty, so, too, should we never do the same with our souls.

And, when we feed ourselves, as it were, by our prayer, we become more and more like Christ, and though our outward appearance may not visibly change, though we may not have to veil our face like Moses did after praying, each time we can be assured that we are being transformed more and more.

And, that is only the potential that exists with our prayer, just imagine then, what happens when we receive Christ in communion, when that tiny host, the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity literally become a part of us, so that His Body becomes one with ours and His blood flows in our same veins.

For, as our second reading reminds, we are all called to holiness, we are all called to the hope of Heaven, and the coming promise of the Resurrection, the foretaste of which is found in that Eucharist, when our bodies will be as Christ’s and the very essence of our souls will, indeed, be our prayer, and, we will literally become what we receive Transfigured and changed in Him.

1st Sunday of Lent, Cycle A (Temptation)

2011-03-13T00:26:00.001-05:00

In today’s readings, we have before us Adam, Eve and Jesus, all of whom were tempted, some of whom were conquered by that temptation.

When I was in the seminary I had a professor who would often say that Eve’s first mistake began long before she was holding that forbidden fruit in her hand.

Her mistake was speaking with the tempter, the Devil, in the first place, because once she engaged in that conversation, she did what we all do, she rationalized the temptation and started to see it as less sinful, and the fruit became more and more attractive the more she engaged in the conversation.

That is why if we were to compare what made the tempter successful and what made Jesus successful against the tempter, it was exactly that; He never once engaged in conversation, rather, He let the Scriptures speak on His behalf.

And, even when the Devil tempted Him to use His power for His own good, He refused, in fact, the only time He showed any power at all was when He claimed authority over the temptation itself by saying those three powerful words: “Get away, or Begone Satan!”

Showing us that the first fatal mistake is to speak, as it were, to our temptation, finding ways to justify it rather than fighting it, looking for ways to make it appear differently than it truly is.

Actually, this is what the reading says: “The woman saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom. So she took some of its fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.”

So that once Eve was told or, rather, deceived into believing what the tree was, she then looked upon it differently, and, just like that, the tree and the fruit were no longer a source of temptation; the fruit ceased to be forbidden, and, instead, became food and a source of wisdom.

Of course, this was not the case, because, after they ate, everything instantly changed and, we are told, “their eyes were opened,” and though they did, indeed, obtain wisdom, the wisdom of not just good but both good and evil, this came at a great cost, the cost of their innocence, the cost of their lives.

For, that, at heart, is the nature of sin, it is meant to deceive and to take something good and corrupt it for our own purposes, and, yet, after the sin is committed, and we are no longer deceived, our eyes too are opened and we realize what we have done.

That is why, though it is not a part of this particular reading, it is interesting to see what Adam and Eve do next, they hide, they know they have done something wrong.

And, even when God calls out to them, asking them where they are, though He knows, He wants them to humble themselves, He wants them to confess what they have done, to admit their sins, but none do, instead they try to justify it, by playing the blame game, for, as it is said, after the Original Sin came the Original excuse, so Adam blames Eve, Eve blames the serpent, and no one takes responsibility for their actions.

It is the great mess that we often find ourselves in when we sin.

And it begins, as all sin does, with a simple temptation, showing us how powerful it actually can be if we allow it and if we speak to it, as it were, or how it can be conquered, if we follow Jesus’ example.

This is why in our moments of temptation we should always abandon ourselves to Christ, because, as our second reading reminds, just as through one man sin entered the world, through another sin was conquered.

So that through Him, with Him, and in Him, though temptation will not cease, it will lose its power, because it will stand against the Incarnate Word, it will stand before the very authority of Christ.

And, while it may be weakened, it might still be strong to us, but, as we know, as long as we are careful, unlike our first parents, we will never be tempted beyond what we can handle. For, in the words of Thomas A. Kempis, author of the Imitation of Christ, with whom I leave you with today: “We usually know what we can do, but temptation shows us who we are.”

9th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-03-06T10:33:00.004-05:00

In our Gospel, many are surprised to learn that Jesus does not know them, that, in spite of all they did in His name, He does not recognize who they are. And, while He obviously does not mean it literally, it is meant to illustrate an important point.

For, these people lived as Christians, they fulfilled all of their obligations, but it, seems, it never affected their lives, it never entered their hearts or their souls. They prophesied, cast out demons, and did mighty deeds but missed the point, because, as far as we can tell, it did not change them, it did not prevent them from fulfilling their own will to the absence of God’s.

For, while they may have known Him, He did not know them, because to know someone is to spend time with them and no matter how good our intentions are, no matter what we may do in a person’s name, if we don’t know the person ourselves, it matters very little.

That is the fundamental point of prayer, to lift up our hearts and minds to God in order that we may truly know Him more and more. For, our time, especially in this day and age, is a precious commodity, and sometimes we can do great work for the Kingdom without spending time with the King.

In fact, I once asked a confirmation class how much time they spend with their friends, they told me from 2-4 hours. I then asked them what they did within that time, to which they responded that they hung out, they talked and sought to keep their friendship strong. I then asked them how long they prayed, and they told me 20 minutes to, at best, a half hour, and not every day, and not even every week.

To give them a little perspective, I explained to them that they spend 30 minutes, at most, with the very one who created us, gave us life and has given us countless gifts, but with their friends much more time. It was not meant to make them feel guilty, but rather, to help them see, as they did, that while both are important relationships, the one with God has to be our most important.

Sometimes what tends to happen though is that we can get caught up in merely reciting words, in fulfilling the obligation, but never allowing that prayer to become an expression of our love, to become an avenue of communication. And, as a result, we listen to the Word of God, but never act on it; we come to Mass, but never let it affect our lives.

Yet, that is why, believe it or not, where we are right now, here at this Mass is, indeed, the most important place we can be, because it is here that the culmination of our prayer and the very source of our belief are found.

For, here, the Word of God and the Eucharist, the source and summit of our lives, truly challenge us to show the strength of our faith and the confidence of our belief, because, truth be told, we should never leave here the same as we came in, what we learn and what receive should permeate the entirety of our lives.

Because the Word of God, is beautiful and is different than any other word that we can hear or read anywhere else, His Word contains power, depth and a lifetime of meditation, it is alive, the Holy Spirit fills it, Christ has made it Incarnate, and even now, it contains that same power and that same Spirit.

And, by conforming our lives to that Word we are able to better discern God’s Will in our lives and find a firm foundation upon which to build our spiritual house.

And, the Eucharist, our greatest challenge to our faith and, simultaneously our greatest love, that same Lord whom we strive to know, literally comes to us, dwells within us, and becomes, as St. Paul reminds in our second reading, the very fountain of grace that has brought us salvation.

That is why it is here that we come to know God, it is here where we genuinely ask ourselves the difficult question of what type of Catholic we truly are, whether our faith is something we live and love or something we practice, as those Christians did, on a superficial level.

Our readings today remind us of the importance of never being complacent and comfortable with our spiritual lives, but to always allow ourselves to be challenged, as Lent will do, to make the harder choice, to not, as I sadly once heard someone put it, be a Catholic on Sunday and someone else the rest of the week.

For, in the end, it is the narrow way that leads to salvation, and if we are clothed in the Word, fortified by the Eucharist and seek to have an ongoing relationship with God, when we come before judgment He will not say those frightening words we heard in our Gospel: “I never knew you,” but, rather, “well done good and faithful servant…enter into the joy of the Lord.”

8th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-02-26T23:13:00.002-05:00

Someone once said that: “You can tell the size of your God by looking at the size of your worry list. The longer your list, they say, the smaller your God.”

And, while God does not shrink, as it were, the more our trust is divided, the more our priorities change, so that God falls out of the list of priorities and becomes secondary, tertiary, or even last to that which has consumed us to the point of worry.

In fact, the word “Mammon,” which is typically, but oftentimes only associated with just money, actually comes from a Hebrew root that means, "to entrust," so that this mammon becomes that in which we place all of our trust, in other words, it becomes an idol that replaces God.

So that, as Jesus says, we literally find ourselves trying to serve two Masters, that which causes us this anxiety and worry and God, who wants to replace that if only we would, indeed, let go of that idol.

In fact, the author Sheldon Vanauken, in his book A Severe Mercy recounts how he and his wife bought a brand new sports car, shiny, sleek, fast and perfect in every way. However, when they got it home, they took an axe and put a few dents in the hood, for no other reason than to free themselves from the worry and anxiety that would have come from idolizing it.

And, while, indeed, it is an extreme example, it reminds us of the importance of always questioning where our priorities truly lie and, where God is found among those priorities, but, also, and more importantly, it forces us to let go of those things that might become a source of worry and shows us how to place our trust in something much more valuable, that is, the kingdom of God.

However, one of the most difficult things for us, if we are truly honest, is that act of trust, because, at heart, we want to be in charge, we want to be in control and when we trust, we aren’t the ones in control, someone else is making our decisions.

Yet, as it strange as it sounds, that might be the reason why Jesus points us to the birds, the flowers and the grass in the field, because they are doing what God has created them to do, in other words, they trust because they have no other choice, they don’t know, like us, what tomorrow will bring.

So, what Jesus is asking then, is that we trust in the same way, not blindly, as it were, but with our full consent, knowing that each moment of each day invites us to renew our trust in Him, to not worry about each and every moment, but to truly put it in His hands.

St. (Padre) Pio summarizes it perfectly, he says "Pray, hope, and don’t worry! Worry is useless. God is merciful and will hear your prayer.” In other words, at the end of the day, our worrying will change nothing, but our trust will change everything, because, as Jesus Himself reminds we add absolutely nothing to our life-span by worrying and, as many doctors will say, actually shorten our life-span by doing so.

That is why the foundation of our trust is found in our prayer, because our prayer helps us to re-organize our priorities and to look at each of those things that cause us to worry as nothing in comparison to what it could be. In fact, there is a Swedish Proverb that says: “Worry often gives a small thing a big shadow.”

In other words, if we were to truly examine that which causes us to worry, that which distracts us and can even cause us to turn away from God, we might see that we have, literally made, a mountain out of an anthill.

For, in the end, no one can truly know everything and no one can truly benefit from trying to predict the future, from dwelling and possibly regretting the past, or over-concerning ourselves with money, our job, our health, our safety and our stuff, those things we typically worry about.

Instead, we are being challenged today to trust that those things will be taken care of and to place all of our concern, all of our worries, on just one thing and one thing only, to, seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, knowing, as difficult as it may be, that, as all things do, tomorrow will take care of itself.

7th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-02-20T11:04:00.000-05:00

DEACONS PREACHED, SO NO HOMILY THIS WEEKEND. HOWEVER, I WILL BE PREACHING ALL THIS WEEK, SO CHECK OUT MY DAILY HOMILY BLOG http://lordifyouwilldaily.blogspot.com/

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

2011-02-13T11:35:00.003-05:00

Each day, God invites us to renew our love for Him, but He doesn’t do it just by asking us to tell Him how much we love Him, rather, He places choices before us, choices that can allow us to grow deeper in our love for Him or to separate ourselves more.

For, as our first reading clearly reminds, our choices affect the entirety our lives and, most importantly, our spiritual lives, so that each choice that is placed before us is an opportunity to grow in grace or to turn away from what God wants to give us.

And, it is a choice that demands the fullness of our consent, so that, as our Gospel says, we are to let our ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’and our ‘No’ mean ‘No.’ In other words, we have to be confident in our decision, confident that, if, indeed, we want each opportunity to bring us closer to God, that it is not just in our actions but even in our very thoughts, so, that what we say, what we do, is merely a reflection of what we think and, truly, of whom we love.

For, as one priest puts it: “The Sermon on the Mount, [that from which our Gospel today comes], is not about dos and don’ts. It is not about limitations: how little must I do to slip by St. Peter at the gates of heaven. The Sermon on the Mount is about being fully alive in Jesus Christ. It is about nourishing the eternal life within us.” It is about making a choice to respond to God’s invitation to love Him more or to walk away from that same invitation.

And, the reason is simple, because we are pilgrims here on earth and the grace that God wants to give us now is nothing in comparison to what will be awaiting those who are ready. For, as St. Paul, in our second reading, beautifully puts it: “What eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and what has not entered the human heart, what God [truly] has prepared for those who love him.”

One of my favorite poets is Robert Frost, an American poet who wrote his very famous, “Road Not Taken,” and while there are a thousand different interpretations of that poem, I often meditate upon it and see in that poem the choices we are daily faced with and see in the person of the poem itself making not just an important decision, but a decision that will shape the very essence of his life.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, he says, and sorry I could not travel both, and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down as far as I could, to where it bent in the undergrowth.” And, if you know the poem, then you know that ultimately, he picks the road less traveled by, because, he understood that the path that was overgrown and not frequently used, was probably the right path.

This is why most of the choices that we make that draw us closer to God lead us on a path fraught with most difficulty and we find the most challenging, not because God likes to watch us suffer, but because, the suffering allows us to become stronger and worthy of the road we walk. In fact, Christ Himself tells us that the path is narrow and not many enter it. And, deep down, somehow we always know, in our own lives, which is the right the path to take.

Because, if the choices we do make reflect our love of God and constantly remind us to follow the true path that we should take each and every day, then, like Frost, we are to weigh our options and see what will best lead us to Heaven so that, indeed, in taking the road less traveled by, we pray that, in the end, it has made all the difference.

PHOTO: FOUND HERE http://doszika.deviantart.com/art/The-Road-Not-Taken-49149311

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A (Salt and Light)

2011-02-06T00:06:00.004-05:00

This right here, this salt shaker, was, at the time of Jesus, in the Middle East, worth the amount of gold, because it was only the truly wealthy that could own refined salt, in fact, it was known as “white gold” and, it is said, that the Roman soldiers would be paid in salt. In fact, that is where the word "salary" comes from.

The rest of the people, however, could only afford a bag of salt, which was full of impurities. So that, once the salt bag was getting empty, all that was left were those same impurities or what were known as “dregs.” Once the salt went flat then, it was no longer good and would be thrown on the ground and used to dry up mud, or in our case, to melt the snow.

Today, Jesus reminds us that we are called to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world, that is, we are called to preserve, as salt also did, since there were no refrigerators to keep things fresh, and to, literally, make palatable the Christian message to those who find it less than appetizing, as it were. We are called also to live as a bright light, as torches of Christ in a world that finds the darkness of sin more comfortable and pleasing than any Son in the world.

Because, each time we receive the Eucharist, whether we realize it or not, we, literally become a lamp stand of Christ, and when we leave this church, we make the decision to allow that lamp to remain for all to see or to put it under a bushel basket, concealed and hidden away.

Yet, truth be told, as Jesus reminds, our light cannot stop shining, it cannot be dimmed, no matter what we do, no matter what we try, because it is meant for all to see, it is meant to illuminate our lives and not to darken it, it is meant to be passed on from one person to the other, to be a single lit candle in the cold darkness of the night.

Because, ultimately, by carrying the light of Christ to others we come to see that we are the flashlights, as it were, to Christ who is the light, that we are the lamp to Christ who is the bulb.

In fact, we need only look at the tabernacle, where we will see a single candle burning, a light that not only reminds us that Christ is there, but a light we are to carry within ourselves, to remind us that He is also with us.

So that His light shines in our soul and we start to grow in our love for Him, so that wherever we go we want to make Him known, or, as a priest once put it: “Those of us worth our salt make others thirsty for Christ.”

For, Jesus is placing a challenge before us today, to be the best Christians that we can be, to live holiness the best we can so that our ultimate desire is sainthood, not as an ideal to be imagined, but as a reality to be lived.

Because, by doing so, we become that salt, spreading the message of Christ, far and wide, savored by many and lighting a torch on our way. So, that in the end, we live as Jesus challenges us today, to truly be the salt of the earth and the light of the world.

4th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A (Humility)

2011-01-30T09:51:00.001-05:00

One of the greatest challenges about being a Christian, if we are truly honest with ourselves, is that of living the virtues. And, again, if we are truly honest, one of the hardest virtues to live, is that of humility, because it demands from us something we are not used to, it demands an unapologetic honesty with ourselves and a recognition of how we truly stand before and in relation to God. And, as a result of that knowledge, it demands living our lives in a whole new way, by redirecting all of our praise and all of our honor to God alone.

It is, therefore, something that takes all that we have in order do so, living so that, as St. Paul, in our second reading reminds: “we should…boast not of ourselves but in the Lord.”

There is a great story I once received in an email, which I think encapsulates this well and I would like to share with you now.

It is a story about a mountain climber who wanted to climb the highest mountain, and he prepared himself very well, so well, in fact, he wanted the glory all for himself. As a result, he decided to climb the mountain all alone.

Things were going well until one night when it got so dark he could see nothing since even the stars and the moon were covered by the clouds. As he was climbing, about to reach the top of the mountain, he slipped and fell, falling at a great speed. In fact, he could only see black spots as he went down and the terrible sensation of being sucked by gravity. As he was falling his entire life literally flashed before his eyes, and he remembered all the good things and the bad things that he had done. He felt his death imminent until, all of a sudden, he felt the rope that he had tied to his waist pull on him very hard.

He was hanging in the air, only the rope holding him and keeping him from falling any further. He could think of nothing else except to scream out “Help me God!”

He heard a voice from the sky answer: “What do you want me to do?” He replied: “Save me God!” The voice responded: “Do you really think I can save you?” The man replied: “Of course I believe You can.” The voice then told him: “Then cut the rope tied to your waist.” There was silence and the man decided he could not do it, and so held on to the rope with all his strength.

The rescue team tells that the next day the climber was found frozen and dead, his body hanging from the rope, his hands holding it tight…only ten feet from the ground.

All he had to do was let go, all he had to do was trust, humble himself and accept the fact that if he wanted to conquer the mountain he couldn’t do it alone, that if he truly wanted to succeed, he had to “forget himself,” as it were, and allow the mountain of his pride to be conquered first.

In fact, that is what Jesus is reminding us of in our Gospel today, that when we are lacking anything we seek support, and when we lack what is most fundamental to us, we come to see what is most important in our lives and, as a result, come to rely upon He who can help us, the One who knows better than ourselves what we truly need.

For, the beatitudes, believe it or not, are an instruction for happiness, but it is happiness that is only understood in the light of Christ, a happiness that only makes sense when we allow ourselves to be led, when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, that is, hungry, poor, sad, hated and persecuted, because it makes us dependent upon the same Christ who lived the reality of the Beatitudes in His own life.

And, they show us that true happiness, true fulfillment only begins here on earth, but reaches its culmination, reaches its pinnacle in Heaven, in fact, the word “beatitude,” means “fulfillment” in Latin.

Therefore, when we change our view, when we look at the world with eyes of humility, we come to see that when we are hanging at the end of our rope, when our own pride has brought us to a place we don’t want to be, we need not fear, but only truly let go, knowing that if it is not a cliff or someone there waiting, it will always be the hand of God ready to catch us if we cut the rope and fall in faith.

3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A (Follow Me)

2011-01-22T23:08:00.002-05:00

Today, our readings take us back to the hope that was restored when Christ came into our world on Christmas day, when the darkness of sin and death could give way to light, when a new hope was restored by Him, whom we call in our Creed, Light from Light, so that for those, whom our Gospel reminds, sit in darkness in a land overshadowed by death, light and hope, has, indeed, arisen.

And, it is Jesus, radiant as the sun, who brings this to the world, He allows Himself to be recognized, for this is the beginning of what is known as His public ministry, and He begins by bringing light to the darkness of the world, by calling forth individuals to follow Him, one by one.

A call that though beginning with Simon Peter extends all the way to us, a call to be a follower of Christ, one of His disciples, one willing to abandon everything to follow Him.

A call that is immediate, no second thought, no mulling it over, in essence, a demand to make a choice to get off the boat and go where He wants to lead or to stay waiting for something or someone better to come along.

Yet, truth be told, as we all know but may convince ourselves differently, there is nothing better, there is no one who can compare to what Jesus can offer. The disciples knew this, otherwise they would have hesitated, but they didn’t.

What Jesus said had power enough for them to drop everything and follow Him. Some even left their father in the boat it was so abrupt and instantaneous. He spoke and they followed.

It is this that should be the model for our lives and the driving force by which and through which our lives are governed, because in following we are being led, in following we have a guide to literally light our way. In fact, His light in our lives is what makes our lives what they are, His light shows us the way to Him by illuminating our steps and by dissipating the shadows that are cast by the world.

And, what’s more, He teaches us how to bring that light to others, so that just as a flame is passed from one candle to another, so too is His same light passed from one soul to another.

So that the more places we bring that light, the more the darkness in the world disappears, the more Jesus is known, and the more hope is brought into this world. For, one by one each and everyone of us has been called, each and everyone us, by our Baptism, made to be one of Christ’s followers, so that all of us, no matter our state in life, have a responsibility to not just heed His message but to bring it to others as well.

For, if our faith is truly the center of our lives, if it is the source of joy and strength, then, just like anything that we love, we will want to share it, we will want everyone to experience what we experience, no matter the consequences, living joyfully and fearlessly as we truly become the instrument of God to others, the beacon of light to those who are looking for clarity in the obscurity of our days.

That is what it means and that is what He meant when said those simple words: “follow me.”

As many of you know, I am the assistant vocation director of the diocese, and so I would be remiss if I did not mention that this universal call for all of us is specialized in the individual vocation that God has called each of us to live, be it as a priest, religious, deacon, married or single.

And, while all vocations are incredibly beautiful, I want to briefly focus on those I deal with daily, that of priesthood and religious life, because I am willing to bet, since I sat where you some of you sit now, that there are more than a few men who have had, at least, the passing thought of priesthood and more than a few women who have, at least, entertained the idea of religious life. I want you to know, it is not strange or uncommon, rather, it is that specific call from God, which often begins as a whisper and becomes a thundering voice before you know it.

However, it is what you choose to do with that voice that does make the difference, perhaps, you do not have the same trust as the disciples, and, honestly, that is fine, and not that uncommon, but just know that if God is calling you, and it is a genuine call, He won’t stop until you respond, in whatever way you choose to respond.

For all vocations, in the end, ultimately, ask for the same challenging choice, the choice to stay in the boat waiting for something or someone better to come along or, to throw all caution to the wind, leave everything and to follow Him.

THE DEACON PREACHED TODAY BUT I DO HAVE A WEDDING, SO I DO GET TO PREACH :)

2011-01-16T10:09:00.001-05:00

The Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, Cycle A

2011-01-08T23:33:00.004-05:00

We celebrate today an interesting feast, the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, interesting because it begs the question, why would Jesus, who is free of sin, have to be baptized? The obvious answer, of course, is that He didn’t, but, as many Church Fathers will say, His baptism was still necessary, and the reason is actually quite simple, because, in the words of St. Maximus of Turin, an early bishop of the Church: “Christ is baptized, not to be made holy by the water, but to make the water holy, and by his cleansing to purify the waters which he touched.”

In other words, Christ is washed in those waters so that we can be washed of our sins, taking that which had no life within it and, literally, making the waters of baptism, true living waters, that which absolves us of our sins, and makes us a new creation in Him. Incidentally, this is also why many saints and Church Fathers would call the sacrament of reconciliation a second baptism, since the same occurs again and again in the confessional.

Yet, that is not all, something else occurs at our baptism as well, something even more amazing, that is, we are known, from then on, as our Gospel alludes to, as children of God. Perhaps, it is said too often to have meaning or significance, so let me say it again, we, literally, become children of God.

That means that, spiritually, God, the eternal Father, the creator of the very universe, is our father, that Jesus, the very savior of the world, is our brother, and the Holy Spirit, the one who overshadowed Mary, the one who inspired St. Peter to speak so beautifully and eloquently, as we heard in our second reading, is our guide.

This why our baptism is such a monumental occasion and why Christ’s baptism is still celebrated after all of these years, because He not only made water holy, He transformed the power that it had, so that when we emerge from those waters, when we walk away from that fount, whether young or old, infant or aged, we will always stand as a child of God.

That is why the Father’s words to Jesus are to us as well because, truly, that indelible mark that was left upon our soul has claimed us as the Father’s own.

And, even that is not all, for our baptism is a lesser imitation of Christ’s own baptism yet, in allowing us to share in His we are literally, also, made to become another Christ in the world.

In fact, in the early instruction for the newly baptized in Jerusalem, the following would be said: “Now that you have been baptized into Christ and have put on Christ, you have become conformed to the Son of God…since you share in Christ, it is right to call you ‘Christs’ or anointed ones… You have become ‘Christs’ by receiving the sign of the Holy Spirit…When you emerged from the pool of sacred waters you were anointed in a manner corresponding to Christ’s anointing.”

That is what the saints mean by saying we must be Christ to one another, that is why we have been given that responsibility to imitate Christ as fully as we can, because our baptism, literally, changed who we truly are, because Christ changed what baptism was.

And that is why, as another Christ, as adopted sons and daughters our constant and only desire should be to grow in love more and more for our Father, to heed His Will and to pray always that He may say to us what He said to His Son: “This is my beloved….in whom I am well pleased.”

Epiphany, Cycle A

2011-01-02T00:06:00.001-05:00

The light has come, darkness has given way to the true light, and the lone star traversing in the sky has led three kings to a small, sleeping child. In their hands they bear three gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh, symbols of who this child is, symbols of what is in store for Him as He becomes one of us.

For, today, we celebrate the Solemnity of the Epiphany, or as it is also called the “Feast of the Magi” or “Three Kings Day” and it celebrates Christ’s manifestation and revelation to the world. In fact, that is where the name of the feast is derived, since the word “epiphany” means “to make known,” to “manifest” or “to reveal.”

And, it recalls those three ways in which Christ manifested, or revealed Himself in His divinity: First, in the recognition and adoration of the magi, guided by a star to Bethlehem, second, by His Baptism in the Jordan River and lastly, by His first miracle at The Wedding Feast of Cana in Galilee. However, it also usually marks the twelfth day of Christmas, (though in this case, there are a few more days) and the definitive end of the Christmas season.

This is why the night before the Epiphany is commonly known as Twelfth Night, which for many, was and continues to be, a great source of celebration. Incidentally, this was also a time when it would have been appropriate to put on a play, which is probably where Shakespeare got his idea for his play, “Twelfth Night.”

Yet, this Solemnity recalls, more than any other, as we know, what are believed to be three men, wise men, kings or Magi, whom tradition calls Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, whose single purpose was to follow a star, whom they believed would lead them to a king. For, in spite of countless theories and speculation, it more than anything else, had to be a star, or, at least what they knew to be a star, because that is what the Magi knew, that was their profession, astrologers, those who studied the heavens, those who read the signs in the sky.

This is why they each brought a specific gift of gold, frankincense and myrrh, because those gifts symbolized who Christ was and the life He would live. For, Gold was a symbol of His kingship, frankincense the symbol of His deity and myrrh, which was used for embalming, was the symbol of His death. Incidentally, it is because there are three gifts mentioned that, it is believed, there were three Magi.

For, these three men did something not a lot of people would do, they left behind family and friends and everything they knew to gain even more, they took a great risk, following a star and the Scriptures, the Old Testament to be exact, and from that their goal was realized, their journey ended, reaching its culmination, its peak as they “prostrated themselves,” did him homage and brought forth their gifts, giving Him though the greatest gift of all, the gift of themselves.

And it is their example that should inspire us to do the same, for that star precedes all of us, leading us where that child is, leading us to a greater understanding and revelation of who God is and what it is He wants in all of our lives.

Therefore, we must seek Him always and look for Him everywhere, throughout our lives and throughout our day. It was a star that pointed to salvation, it was a star that lit the way, a simple star, showing us that Christ is found not in the big things but the little things, the quiet things, the simple things of our everyday lives.

That is why like the Magi we, too are to follow that star, whatever it may be to us, with an undying and intimate faith, with urgency and haste, knowing that, by doing so, we can come to recognize the great gift that that child is to us and the great gift that He has given to us, eternal life and salvation through Him.

Christmas, Cycle A

2010-12-24T11:58:00.002-05:00

I would like to speak to the children gathered here tonight, because I know how hard it is sometimes to understand what we just read, with all the different words that you may or may not have heard before and also to help you understand why it is this night is so important and special.

I have here a handful of hay, which is nothing more than a handful of dried out grass, and it has one purpose, to feed the animals in a barn or a stable, however, in order to feed the animals, it would have to be put in a special container called a trough, I don’t know if any of you have seen a trough, but it is right here. And it really wouldn’t be important except for one reason, one of the types of troughs is called a manger. So, when we hear about Jesus lying in a manger, as we just did, it means His bed was a container from where animals would eat and this was his mattress.

Yet, there is something else, He was born in a town, a special town called Bethlehem, a word in Hebrew, one of the languages they spoke back then, which means “house of bread.” So, then Jesus was laid in a manger in a town called Bethlehem.

This means that Jesus wants to feed us and that, in fact, He was born in order to feed us, feeding us first with His Word, which we just heard and then again with the Eucharist, the true bread from Heaven. So that this Jesus who is born on Christmas is the same Jesus in the Eucharist that we celebrate tonight, what that means is that when your parents drag you out of bed, telling you have to come to Mass, it is because Jesus is there waiting, wanting to feed you and wanting you to be fed.

Because even when we put away our nativity scenes, when we put away our plastic and ceramic baby Jesus, we cannot take Him away, He wants to continue feeding us the whole year round.

Now, I want to talk to the parents.

I am sure, everyone here has flown on an airplane, at least once, and, if so, you will recall the whole lengthy process that they go through about the proper usage of an oxygen mask. There is something during that which they say that is very interesting, they tell you to make sure you put on your own mask before helping others, the Eucharist asks for the same. For, we cannot breathe without oxygen and we cannot have life within us without Christ, for, if we are not fed we cannot feed and if we are not full we will never have enough to give to others.

When Christ was born He not only brought Heaven to earth, He raised up earth to Heaven, a great Father of the Church, St. Athanasius explained it as “God becoming man and man becoming God.” For, indeed, that is the true mystery and beauty of the Incarnation and the reality of what happens every time we come to receive the Eucharist.

And, that is why we are here tonight and what all of us celebrate, because, with the shepherds before us, we cannot help but fall down in adoration and praise and with all angels and archangels sing that triumphant song: “Glory to God in the highest and peace to His people on earth,” because “today in the city of David a savior, our savior, has been born, who is Christ the Lord, the Prince of Peace, our God, our Eucharist, our hope!

Gaudete Sunday, Cycle A

2010-12-11T21:13:00.001-05:00

If you have ever had the privilege of watching the sunrise, you will have noticed that the sky turns from black, to purple to a pinkish or, more properly understood, rose color. An indication that the darkness is being dissipated by the light and that at each moment the rays from the sun are about to burst forth in order to fully illuminate the sky.

Today, we celebrate the third Sunday of Advent, somewhat different than the other Sundays and commonly called Gaudete, or “Rejoice” Sunday, because with this Sunday we move closer to the feast of Christmas and turn our attention from Christ’s Second Coming to His first.

This is why we light a rose candle and, if they are available, for a priest to wear rose vestments because, soon, indeed, the true Son will rise and we will recall that day when our God and Savior was born. It is no mistake, nor coincidence that one of the Advent hymns is “People Look East,” because it is in the East that the sun rises, it is in the East, that we anticipate His coming.

This is why we rejoice and designate this day as a Sunday to rejoice, a rejoicing that will extend far and wide, among the lands, the people, everywhere. In fact, Isaiah, in our first reading puts it beautifully, explaining the way in which a desert and barren land will not only rejoice at the glory of the Lord, but bloom with abundant flowers, and that those who are afraid will become strong in the Lord, that those who are blind will see, those who are deaf will hear, and the lame, those unable to walk, will not just walk but leap, and those who cannot speak will not only speak again but be able to sing. For, the rejoicing will be great and everything will be restored.

Herein lies our hope, what is to be expected when He comes, but right now there is still time to prepare, right now, as it says in our second reading, we are to observe patience, knowing, that as the farmer learned, it is patience that makes it worth it, it is patience that allows us to be properly prepared for His return.

Yet, what is so unique, is that, as Catholics, though we await His return in the fullness of glory, in the radiance of a king, in the gentleness of a child, we have the great opportunity to look upon Him face to face, with the eyes of faith, to be sure, but the opportunity nonetheless, which is found in the closest church and in any tabernacle throughout the world, where the same Christ-child lies.

In my previous parish, I had the opportunity to teach the 8th grade religious ed. class, and I asked them a question, which I would ask all of you as well, if someone told you that you had the opportunity to meet Christ, our Lord, the same Savior and God, that little child, would you? Most of them, rather wisely, said they would have to confess first, which is why Advent gives you so many opportunities, but agreed that they would probably do so. I then explained to them that the opportunity always exists at any time, hour, day, or night, wherever there is a church that is open. I then asked them, knowing this, what is preventing them, and they were honest, they said they were lazy.

Perhaps, they can teach us something about ourselves, and we too might ask ourselves the same question. For, if we truly believe Christ is present, and as important as we say He is, if we truly believe that God dwells upon that altar, why then aren’t we all spending time in His presence?

In Isaiah we see the miracles that are possible with the Lord, and how often have the saints pointed to the Eucharist, the Lord Incarnate, as the fountain and source of countless miracles? The mere fact that bread can become Jesus, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, is a miracle in itself and when we come before the greatest miracle, kneeling before Him as the Shepherds, as the angels, it cannot but help cause miracles in our own lives, indeed, true cause for rejoicing.

In this season of preparation, this season of waiting, while we wait for Him, He is already waiting for us, maybe today we might pay Him a visit and experience the true joy of Christmas, the true joy that Advent leads us to, the silence of that Christ-child dwelling on the altar or in that tabernacle and He who seeks to find a home in the mangers of our hearts.

2nd Sunday of Advent, Cycle A (St. John the Baptist)

2010-12-04T23:33:00.000-05:00

St. John the Baptist was, without a doubt, an interesting man, however, he was a man with a mission, a man whose sole purpose was to prepare the people for the coming of the Lord, becoming, as Isaiah puts it, a voice of one crying out in the desert, with a simple message to prepare, repent and believe, a signpost, a prophet of someone greater than himself that is coming.

Our Gospel explains him as wearing camel’s hair with a leather belt and feasting on locusts and wild honey. Typically, what he was wearing was common for a prophet but his diet was one of the most extreme forms of penance, for, as St .Peter Chrysologous, an early Church Father explains: “locusts intended for sinners worthy of chastisement are rightly considered to be food for repentance, so that bounding from the place of sin to the place of repentance the sinner may fly to heaven on the wings of forgiveness.”

And, although, in spite of his eccentric ways, St. John achieved great fame as a preacher and prophet, his simple response to it all was to point immediately to who was to come, and even did so in such a way as to be sure that Christ was the one who was exalted: “One mightier than I,” he says “is coming after me. I am not worthy to carry his sandals.” A man, simply put, whose life was not about him but spent pointing constantly to Christ.

And yet, it raises a question for us: if it was this important for Christ to send someone before Him whose sole purpose was to prepare for His coming, how much more should we prepare ourselves today?

For, if Advent is a time of a two-fold preparation, that is celebrating the anniversary of His first coming as a little child and looking forward to His Second Coming, then we too should heed St. John’s warning to prepare our hearts and our souls for Christ’s return, and while there are many ways in which to do this, the ones that are, indeed, most important would be prayer and penance, but most especially, penance.

For, if you have wondered how powerful, how strong and how damaging sin truly is, you need only look at our first reading today. For, before us we see a harmony and unity in creation, a mingling of the most unlikely, a wolf as a guest of the lamb, a leopard with a kid, that is, a goat, a calf and a lion, a cow and a bear, and a child and a cobra.

As one commentator notes: “It paints a panorama of the harmony that reigned at the dawn of creation, only to be broken by sin. Even among wild beasts violence will disappear. No longer will man in his pride desire ‘to be like God, knowing good and evil’ instead he will be filled with the divine gift of the ‘knowledge of the Lord.’”

That is why St. John the Baptist constantly spoke of the baptism of repentance and the forgiveness of sins, because he recognized this damage that sin causes and wanted to prepare us for the one with the power to, literally, absolve us of our sins. For, though most of us have already been baptized, many Fathers of the Church would call confession, the sacrament of reconciliation a second baptism, a time when we are brought back to those waters and made a new creation in God’s eyes.

This is why we prepare, this is how we prepare, and this is what St. John so loudly proclaimed, which is why it should be our constant desire during this Advent season to make ourselves ready for His return. For, though Jesus will come to us in a very real sense in this Eucharist, this same child has now grown and will come again, in fullness of glory and at a time, and at a place, and at a day completely unknown.

There is now no St. John the Baptist to warn us when, nor should their be, because today we have all the tools and all the resources necessary, as it were. So, that with a prayer upon our lips and a conscience that is cleansed we will be ready, willing and waiting for His return.

First Sunday of Advent, Cycle A

2010-11-27T15:29:00.002-05:00

Today, we celebrate the first Sunday of Advent, a word from the Latin Adventus, which simply means: “coming.” It is a time that the Church sets apart, four weeks to be exact, in order to undertake what is known as a two-fold preparation, that is, to prepare for the anniversary of Christ’s birth, His first coming, while, simultaneously always being aware, ready and prepared in expectation of His Second, as we just heard in our Gospel today.

St. Cyril of Jerusalem, an early Father of the Church, put it this way, he says: “At the first coming he was wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger. At his second coming he will be clothed in light as in a garment. In the first coming he endured the cross, despising the shame; in the second coming he will be in glory, escorted by an army of angels. We look then, he says, beyond the first coming and await the second.”

This is why this season is full of symbols and actions that are both similar and unique from other seasons. It is why everything is now purple and why all priests are wearing purple, to point to the penitential nature of the season, like Lent, once known as it was as a mini-Lent, but also to symbolize royalty, since, in ancient times, purple was a rare color and only those who had the economic means could have made it.

This, too, is why we exclude the Gloria since it is the triumphant hymn of His birth, which is also why the music that we do sing is that of hopeful expectation and waiting. It is also why we have a calendar, a special calendar to mark and count down each of the days in anticipation of His return, and, lastly, why we have a special Advent wreath, a symbol of God’s eternal love and eternal mercy for us, with each candle to remind us of the light that has come and will come again He who, indeed, is the light of all the world.

And, while all of these symbols point to the importance of Jesus’ return, of His coming, it is, indeed, the wreath itself that can help us to understand the importance of this Advent season.

In fact, we began this Mass by going to that wreath, and by lighting the first candle of the four, which we will now do every week. And the light, though dim right now, will get brighter and brighter each time.

I used to teach 3rd grade religious ed., and, one day, I brought in an Advent wreath, turned off all the lights and had the kids gather around the wreath. One by one I lit the candles and each time asked them what they noticed. They said the light was getting brighter and the darkness was becoming less.

They understood it was a symbol of the coming of the light of Christ and that, ultimately, at the end of the four weeks, the darkness would, indeed, be scattered and there would be nothing but light, the light of Christ.

That same light that also dwells within us as well, so that each week, as we light another candle upon that wreath, each week we should start to see more and more of ourselves, more and more of what is inside of us, in our hearts and in our souls, so that the brighter it gets, the more we see, seeing, in essence, our very souls the way God sees us.

And though for some of us that might cause us to be anxious, we should know that we have nothing to fear, because even the darkness of sin and the seeming shadows of hopelessness are cast out and made anew in the light of Christ. In fact, St. Paul, in our second reading, puts it beautifully, he says: “the night is advanced, the day is at hand.” Therefore, as he encourages us all: “Let us then throw off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.”

This is why Jesus tells us be prepared in our Gospel today and to always be ready, because we have been given this beautiful time of preparation, this new year of the Church, this Advent season, looking forward in hopeful expectation for His return, be it in anniversary of His first or in joyful anticipation of His second.

Today then, let us look within ourselves and see what that first candle has brought to light within us, so that, in the end, we can confidently turn our backs on the darkness, and in the words of Isaiah, always “walk in the light of the Lord.”

The Solemnity of Christ the King, Cycle C (The Last Sunday in Ordinary Time)

2010-11-20T15:24:00.001-05:00

Picture for a moment, any king, a man with an ornate crown upon his head, perhaps wearing a few pieces of jewelry, and dressed in the finest of robes, adorned possibly with silver or gold. The most extravagant, the most expensive, the most ornate, sitting upon a throne that only enhances this lifestyle, surrounded by people who honor, respect and fear him. There would then be no doubt in anyone’s mind that this man, indeed, was a king.

Today, we also see a king, but this king’s crown is not of silver or of gold but of thorns, He is not adorned with jewelry or fine robes, in fact, all He is wearing is a loin cloth, and His throne is not comfortable or ornate, but a wooden cross upon which His head rests. And His followers have all but abandoned Him, and those who remain, neither honor, respect nor fear Him, but, rather, taunt Him, mock Him, and spit upon Him, for, if He truly is a king, they say, He can command his angels to remove Him from the cross, if He truly is a king, He would not have been on the cross in the first place. And a plank of wood placed above Him not as a sign to show honor or respect, but mockery and insult: “This is the King of the Jews.”

People were expecting a Savior, a king like that of David, they were looking for hope and all they seemingly got was someone who allowed Himself to be conquered, who allowed seeming defeat, was humiliated and killed. And the only one who recognizes Him, the only one who identifies Him as king, is a thief, a common criminal.

Therefore, the great question that had to have remained in the hearts and minds of all of those who were mocking Him, all of those who trusted in Him, all of those who were drawn to Him in some way was how can this man dying among criminals, how can this man beaten and practically dead, truly be a king?

And the answer is in Jesus’ response: “I promise you this day you will be with me in paradise.” Paradise is a Persian word and it means an enclosed park, which was usually attached to a royal palace. So, that while Jesus, indeed, affirms that He is a king, it is a kingship that merely begins at the cross, but reaches its culmination, on the Third Day, when He rises from the dead. For, Jesus, as we know, was no ordinary man but God and man, so that He rules as both God and man.

That is why it is no accident that His suffering and His death is intimately associated with His kingship, because, as our second reading reminds Jesus is “the firstborn of the dead” and has made peace through the blood of His cross, because, as firstborn of the dead, that is, of being the first to be able to come back to life from the dead, He has ultimate dominion then, as God and man, over every one and everything, those in heaven and on earth, those visible and invisible.

He has conquered all of our enemies, not with a sword but with a blood-stained cross, because only He has destroyed the greatest enemy as St. Paul calls it elsewhere, “The last enemy to be destroyed, [which] is death.”
So, that His conquest was not for His sake, but for ours, because, in destroying death itself, He also did something else, He, literally, freed us from our sins, for, as St. Paul also reminds: the wages of sin is death.

And, therefore, He asks of us very little in comparison, something that benefits us more than Him, that we allow Him to rule in our hearts and our lives, so that He could reign as one who can bring us to His kingdom, bring us, as He did the Good thief, before His throne.

A throne that will, indeed, be truly fitting for a king, a crown that will be incredibly ornate and garments that will be unmistakable, so that when we see Him, as we prepare for during Advent, all will fall to their knees in honor, respect and fear and know that, indeed, this is a king, Christ the King, who rules now and will forever and ever Amen.

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C (The End)

2010-11-13T18:27:00.000-05:00

December 21, 2012, that is the famous date, the date that everyone believes marks the end of the world. In fact, it’s in the movies, it’s on TV, it’s in the news, it’s in the science magazines, it, literally, is everywhere. And, it points to a definitive end, an end that is absent of any hope an end that is full of fear.

And, though, as Christians, we, too, believe in the end, ours is an end with hope, ours is an end that should, believe it or not, bring us joy, because it will be the final culmination and the ultimate fulfillment of God’s very plan on earth. For, all endings are nothing more than new beginnings, and it is this end that points to the return of Jesus on earth. What we call the General Judgment, something we profess every Sunday, as we will after this homily, that: “He will come again to judge the living and the dead.”

It is something that sounds like it could be a scene from a movie, and, in fact, has been the source of many apocalyptic movies, the chaos and confusion, the fear and terror accompanied by great wars, insurrections, earthquakes, famines, plagues and signs in the sky, something, believe it or not that merely points to the end, but, as Jesus assures, is not the end, only that which precedes His great return. And, people say the Bible is boring.

Yet, this is not meant to scare us but, rather, to prepare us, to help us to get ready, to use our time wisely and diligently, so that we can work, fight and struggle on our relationship with God, so that, ultimately, we can live our call, our true call, to a life of holiness and to share that life with others.

In fact, our Gospel warns us of a time when the Church will be even more persecuted than it is now, and that, like in the days of old, we will be called to give testimony to the faith that is within us and, in the darkest hour and in the worst of the chaos, to trust, to let God use us as instrument, and to let Him speak through us, by our actions and by our words.

Because despite how it may appear, The End is meant and intended to be a time of hope and of joy, not a time of loss and sadness, because it speaks and points to the very strength we have as Christians and the confidence that we have in God, knowing that on that day we will literally see Him face to face.

When that day comes, when Jesus returns, no one actually knows, for despite what everyone is saying, no one knows, not even Jesus Himself, the one closest to the Father. So, 2012 could easily be 2010, tomorrow or today, but that is not the point, the point is the reason we are even here today, the point is what it means to be a Christian, the point is what the Advent season, that which will be upon us soon, points to, to be prepared, to live and grow in a life of holiness, to have a deep and meaningful relationship with God.

For, by doing so, we will make ourselves ready for that coming day, whenever and wherever we may be, knowing, in the end, as it beautifully says in our Gospel today, by our perseverance we will secure our lives.

32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C (Resurrection)

2010-11-06T15:34:00.004-04:00

If death was our final end, then our faith is hopeless, praying for those who have gone before us, as we do during this month, would be pointless, and our lives would literally be devoid of meaning, because we would merely live only to die.

Yet, our readings today show it differently, they remind us of our greatest reality and of our greatest hope; that each and every one of us will, like Jesus, rise again. In fact, that was the only thing that sustained those in our first reading today, tortured as they were, forced to do what was in violation of their beliefs, the last brother to die, summarizing well what they all believed: “It is my choice to die at the hands of men, he says, with the hope God gives of being raised up by him.”

For, their view was focused on the hope that was to come rather than the torture, pain and suffering they were, at that moment, enduring. In fact, that is why their faith, their courage, their zeal caused the king and his attendants to marvel, because they were astounded that they could say and act as they did while suffering so much.

Yet, their actions show why it is that the Resurrection is so integral to our faith because, put simply, if there was no Resurrection, then death was never conquered, and if death was never conquered, what they did was in vain, and further, if death was not conquered, then there is no hope for salvation,

because dying was not the only part to Jesus’ life, everyone, up to that point, could do that, it was coming back after three days that made it such a monumental and important part of salvation history.

That is why, even today, it is the source of such debate, and why only a couple of nights ago I had a great dialogue with someone for nearly an hour about the importance of the Resurrection, because like the Sadducees in our Gospel, in their confusion, no one really knows what it means to be Resurrected because we really cannot compare any earthly thing to the Resurrection, because it is a state that no one or anything has as of yet experienced.

Yet, Jesus does give us a glimpse, as it were, when He says that our bodies will be like angels, that is, clothed in immortality and bathed in the glory of God. And, what’s more is that as we read in the Gospels, and see in Jesus, after His Resurrection, we see a body and soul so at peace with each other, that the same laws of physics we are used to no longer apply, that the same limitations we have now will then no longer exist.

That is why it is not just a mere doctrine, nor mere words or belief, but an extraordinary reality, one that we are to hope for but one, perhaps, we don’t always think of.

In fact, I remember a priest friend of mine was at a funeral service, and during the homily, he said something many were not expecting, he pointed to the body lying in the casket and said: “just as surely as you see him lying there dead, you will see him alive again.”

Later he told me “I don't think people are used to hearing the Resurrection spoken about in such plain terms anymore. You have to hit them between the eyes with it sometimes.”

That is why Jesus was so clear when always speaking about the Resurrection and why He says unequivocally that He is God of the living and not of the dead, and before doing so, talks about Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, to show that if they are still with God, long after their death, then a new life is almost implied.

Christ did not just die; He rose and thereby destroyed death itself, He, literally, brought life beyond death. That is why, in the end, it is a source of hope, because it is our pinnacle, our summit, the very celebration of the life that is in store for all of us.

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C (Humility and Prayer)

2010-10-23T14:24:00.000-04:00

In today’s Gospel, Jesus presents a parable about righteousness, about humility, and a question about both. And He presents two people, a Pharisee and a tax collector, one who enjoys his prayer so much that he wants to share it with everyone, even going so far as reminding God at how great a pray-er he is, and the other, in the back of the temple, eyes cast down, unable to even look up, beating his breast, pleading mercy for his sins.

Two people at prayer but only one person praying.

And that is why, throughout our readings, especially in our Gospel, a common thread exists, a thread that is not only important but also incredibly necessary when praying and that is, quite simply, humility, for without it prayer then becomes nothing more than talking to God about ourselves with no desire for God to talk to us about Him.

For, all prayer, whether we recognize it or not, has instilled within it a desire for God to form us, a desire to have such an intimate relationship with Him that our conversation is not mere everyday conversation but truly love speaking to love. And, in order for that to happen, we need to fully abandon ourselves before our Almighty Father, hiding nothing and holding nothing back, not trying to fill the time with trivial and everyday conversation, but approaching Him in humility, in trust, in truth and in faith. Falling to our knees, knowing who we are and how we stand before God and being completely, brutally and thoroughly honest with Him. For, it is He who knows us better than we know ourselves.

Blessed Mother Teresa, in fact, gives a great reminder, she says: “Humility comes when I stand as tall as I can, and look at all of my strengths, and the reality about me, but put myself alongside Jesus Christ. And it's there, when I humble myself before Him, and realize the truth of who He is, when I accept God's estimate of myself, stop being fooled about myself and impressed with myself, that I begin to learn humility. The higher I am in grace, she says, the lower I should be in my own estimation because I am comparing myself with the Lord God.”

This is why when we approach God, as St. Paul reminds in our second reading, we are to pour ourselves out like a libation, that is, empty ourselves of ourselves before Him, because then He not only works through us but fills us with His grace.

Perhaps the best example of this was a priest I met a few summers ago at a program for priestly formation. He had a couple of jobs, but the one in particular that stood out to me was as the exorcist of a major metropolitan city.

I remember we had a great conversation about exorcisms, how it happens, how they know if a person is possessed etc. However, when I asked him how he prepares for an exorcism he said “I fast, I pray, and have others pray for me, and most importantly during the actual exorcism, I get out of the way.”

It was probably the most profoundly simple pieces of advice I had ever heard, but one of the greatest examples of how we are to live as Christians and how we are to approach God in prayer. That in order to do such a great thing, he had to let himself be the lowest thing, the mere conduit through which God works, the mere vessel of His grace.

This is why humility is so necessary, because pride, as the Pharisee demonstrates, prevents us from seeing beyond ourselves, from truly approaching God, so that it becomes we, ourselves, who create the obstacle to Him. Yet, when recognize that, in the words of St. Josemaria Escriva: “Humility is born of knowing God and knowing oneself,” we will see that we can never know ourselves unless we know God, and we can never know Him unless we approach Him as we are, in openness, in truth and always aware of how vulnerable we truly are.

For, by doing so, we will always be able to live in true humility and know well the reality of what Christ says: “whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C (To Pray Always)

2010-10-16T21:46:00.003-04:00

Our readings today focus on prayer, constant, persistent, unceasing prayer.

And, if we are honest, it seems nearly impossible, for how can we realistically sanctify every moment of every hour of each and every day? Granted, there are countless stories from the saints showing us that it is possible, but how do we, ourselves pray in that way, how do we pray always?

The simple answer is by making prayer the beginning, the end, the very essence of our lives, but that does not come easy, that does not come overnight, that, like everything good, takes hard work, dedication and perseverance. In fact, Father Raniero Cantalamessa, the Papal household preacher, puts it quite well, he says: “We are deceiving ourselves if we think that we can pray always, make prayer a kind of respiration of the soul in the midst of daily activity, if we do not set aside fixed times for prayer, when we are free from every other preoccupation.”

So that, by doing so, we find the more we pray, the more we need it, the more necessary it becomes in our daily lives, so much so, that when we neglect our prayer, it becomes immediately noticeable as if we did something as drastic as stopped breathing or eating. Yet, in a sense, spiritually starving ourselves of prayer is the equivalent of physically starving ourselves of food.

Archbishop Timothy Dolan, in a series of talks he gave to a group of seminarians, says it well: “Our prayer, he says, must be eternal; it must keep going. You know you can never stock up on food, eating a lot, say, on Monday so you don’t have to eat the rest of the week. No-we have to eat daily-. [The] Same is true of breathing, he says, I don’t take ten deep breaths and then say ‘Good, that’s over for a while. I won’t have to breathe for a couple of hours.”

In other words, our prayer should become as natural, important and as necessary to us as taking a single breath or eating so that, indeed, our souls are nourished, sustained and fulfilled.

Yet, if we are honest with ourselves, for most of us, it is not that we don’t want to pray, rather, it is that we falsely believe that we don’t have enough time, so that constant prayer becomes an ideal since we cannot even carve enough time for regular prayer.

However, I am always reminded of the late Pope John Paul II, who always said: “the pope’s first duty is prayer,” something that is true of all of us, but something that had to be incredibly difficult with everything weighing on him. And, I remember, once, hearing a great story of how he lived this in his life. It is said that there was an urgent matter for which he was needed, in fact, it is said that one of the Cardinals came to him, interrupted him in prayer, to state the urgency of this matter. Pope John Paul looked up and asked: “is it really urgent?” to which the Cardinal responded, it was, Pope John Paul asked again: “do I have to be there right now,” the Cardinal told him it would be good if he were, Pope John Paul then said, “let me finish praying then.”

The Pope realized that in order to be an effective Pope prayer was first and all else secondary, the same should also be true of us, for we cannot hope to begin to have perpetual and persistent prayer, in a word, to pray always, unless we are willing to make sacrifices of our time and of our desires to do what we think important in order to do the only thing that is of utmost importance, pray. For prayer is not just simple words, falling from our lips, but an expression of love and an intimate experience with the one who not only created us but keeps the very universe in existence at this very moment. That is why it is seen as a gift and why each and every moment of each and every day should be an expression of that love and an effort to bring sanctification to those moments and to create always and everywhere an opportunity for prayer.

When I was discerning a vocation with a group of contemplative Franciscans, every night before going to bed they would pray a Prayer to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, ending it with the following words: “And because I cannot praise my God while I am asleep, may You give praise to the Most Holy Trinity as many times as my heart beats this night.”

And that, in the end, is what it means to pray always, to find opportunities to simply sanctify each moment, and to offer it to God. Therefore, let us work towards being men and women of prayer, not just momentarily or sporadically, but constantly and unceasingly, always mindful of this need for prayer, so that, as we just heard in our Gospel, when the Son of Man comes He indeed may find faith on earth and He may find it in us.

Respect Life Sunday, Cycle C

2010-10-02T16:55:00.000-04:00

In today’s Gospel, the Apostles make a request of Jesus: “Increase our faith.” And Jesus responds by explaining that they already have that faith, it is only a matter of fostering that faith, drawing upon it, and recognizing it. And, it does not even need to be that much, in fact, it only needs to be the size of a mustard seed. (Do you see this, this is a coin, which attached to it is a mustard seed you can barely see it, I can barely see it as I look at it,) and yet Jesus is telling us that that much faith is not only sufficient but has the power to uproot a mulberry tree and have it planted in the middle of the sea.

It sounds outlandish, impossible, and, yet, that is the point, it is to us, because we are thinking in terms of ourselves, and what is possible for us. But faith allows us to look beyond ourselves, in fact, it demands it, so that what we see is not what is impossible but possible, despite anything to the contrary. For Jesus Himself has said elsewhere, “with men, it is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

And, it is that faith which defines us as Christians and helps us to live fearlessly and confidently in the Lord, for it not only makes the impossible possible, but it turns our weaknesses into strengths.

That is why, all throughout the world, there are people speaking, at this moment on the importance of life, of giving a voice to those whose voice can either not be heard or will not be heard, because today is not just the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time, it is also a day that the Church has reserved for the celebration of life, life in all its many forms, and it is known as Respect Life Sunday. And, though it is unfortunate that we even have to set apart a day for this specific purpose, it is needed now more than ever.

Because, our goal, contrary to what is said, is not to cause further division and upset, but rather, in the words of the late Pope John Paul II, to celebrate the “Gospel of Life” which is, as he says, “to be preached with dauntless fidelity as ‘good news’ to the people of every age and culture.” For, as he goes on to explain, all of us have a divine vocation of sharing our life in God, made in His image and called to so much more beyond this world.

And, yet, it is this same thing that is constantly threatened, through all stages of life, to be sure, but especially at the key moments when life becomes life itself at conception and when life is coming to an end at death. We have found thousands of ways to intervene at these moments or create our own and, in the process, the whole idea, value and concept of life itself then becomes a political argument, a choice, a vote, no longer a natural and beautiful process, no longer a moment of joy, but a decision, and a subject feared to be spoken in mixed company.

That is why the simple action of standing up for life in what John Paul II called a “culture of death,” not only takes courage but, indeed, faith, a powerful faith, one that can not only move mountains but, indeed, uproot trees, that is, one that has power, not of its own, but of the one who gives us the faith in the first place, because it needs to cause a stir, it needs to have such strength that it echoes throughout the entire world, so that our voice is loud enough for those unable to speak, those who cannot defend themselves.

Because our faith is more than what we profess each Sunday, it is what we live each and every moment of our lives and shapes who we are, what we are, what we believe and what we stand for in the public arena. That is why life issues, as we call them, should not be political, because they are the very fabric of who we are as human beings, from conception to natural death.

I am not trying to oversimplify it, by any means, I know there are countless situations that exist, there are times when we feel as though there are no other options, but, truth be told, there are, and I don’t think many of us realize that, there are many services that exist and countless people willing to help and those options are not just limited to the decision before, but, also, the effects after.

In fact, at the risk of going a little longer than usual, I want to end with a story of a young couple in their early twenties, newlyweds, who had their lives before them and a difficult decision they had to make of keeping a child or not.

For these would-be parents were conflicted as to what they should do, the would-be father was more of the mindset that finances were difficult, that they were not settled as a couple, and that they might be better off not having the child at that time. The would-be mother, however, disagreed and, despite valid fears and concerns, which she gave to God, she decided it best to have the child and that is, ultimately, what they did.

When the child was born the father was the first to hold the child in his arms, and he wept, and he loved the child and he realized none of his concerns mattered anymore, because all that mattered was that child. In fact, he was so overcome that he even left the room forgetting to let the mother hold the child.

Today, that child is a priest and, while theirs is not a unique story, it is a common one, but their choice has literally made all the difference in the world, because their choice brought the life of a priest to the Church.

Therefore, today let us join as one all the voices for life and, in confidence, in trust and in faith, even the size of a mere mustard seed, speak, love, and, indeed, choose life.

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C (Lazarus and The Rich Man)

2010-09-25T15:57:00.003-04:00

There is a story of a priest, Fr. Scheier, ordained in 1973 and, for 12 years, as he himself puts it, lived his priesthood not for Jesus Christ but for himself.

One day he was coming home from visiting another priest in Wichita, and was involved in a head on collision with a truck. Miraculously, no one was killed, but he was unconscious and had lost a part of his scalp. He was rushed to the hospital with a 15% chance of living. Many people prayed for him and he eventually made a full recovery.

He says one day he was saying Mass and he read the Gospel of the fig tree, and something strange happened. He said, as he was reading this Gospel, the page became illuminated, the words became enlarged and they came off the page towards him. He didn’t know what to think of it, and tried his best to finish Mass.

When he went back to the rectory he says he sat down and remembered a conversation that occurred right after the accident. He says he found himself standing before the Lord in Judgment, going through his entire life and showing him all the things he had done. It was not a positive experience, to say the least. He says that he believed that when that time came he would be ready with a thousand excuses, and yet, when the time did come, standing before Truth Himself, as he says, he could not lie, but only admit to what he had done. At the end of the judgment he was given the sentence of Hell. He simply replied “yes.”

All of a sudden he heard a voice of a woman, and she said: “Son, will you please spare his life and his eternal soul?” He replied: “Mother, he’s been a priest for twelve years for himself and not for me, let him reap the punishment he deserves.” “But Son,” she said, “if we give him special graces and strengths then let’s see if he bears fruit; if not, your will be done.” There was very short pause, after which Jesus said, “Mother, he’s yours.”

After that, as you can imagine Fr. Sheier was a different person.

Yet, his story reminds us of the same reality as our Gospel, that our choices have consequences, that not just what we do, but fail to do, as in the case of the rich man, reflect how we will spend our eternity.

Because, as we know, we are composed of a body and a soul, so that what we do can have and has had eternal consequences, put simply, we have the very power to divide ourselves from God Himself, in other words, we, mortal, finite beings, have the freedom to sever all ties with an immortal and infinite being, and, we only can, because God has given us that power. And, we do so with that same gift that God has given everyone, the ability to choose, perhaps a little simplistically put, but, essentially, to say “yes” to Him or “no.”

And, when we say “no” we live then strictly for ourselves, as Fr. Sheier did as this rich man did. For his sin was not that he was rich, but, rather, that the chasm that existed between him and Lazarus was established long before either one of them went to eternal life.

In fact, that is at the heart of all sin, and the very definition of Hell itself, that is, separation, division and self-exclusion from communion with God and all the blessed. That is why it is always a great challenge and difficulty to turn away from those who are poor, sick, in need or suffering, because, we never know if it is Christ in our midst or another person who wants to take advantage of our charity and generosity. Yet, as Fr. Sheier reminds, we are dealing with souls, others and ours and, in God’s eyes, our souls are a great commodity.

Our Gospel today brings before us a difficult reality, but one that must not be forgotten, because it shows us that no person, not even a priest, is immune from God’s Judgment, and that our one goal, our only goal is to constantly strive for holiness. In the words, of our second reading: “pursue righteousness, [grow in] devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness. In a word, to compete well for the faith.”

For, by doing so, we move each day more and more towards a transformation and our lives become different, because one day we too will experience the same thing Fr. Sheier did, and we too will stand before Truth. We will have no excuses, no one to defend us; only our conscience and what we have done, and, in the end, we want to be prepared for that.

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

2010-09-04T23:34:00.003-04:00

To be a true disciple and to truly live a Christian life, is, as our Gospel reminds, to embrace the cross. It is a cost that is unparalleled, and one whose foundation is built upon our faith and complete and total trust in Christ.

In fact, it has to be, because it is one of the most challenging, mysterious and demanding aspects of our lives as Christians. For, when Jesus says that we must come after Him, that is what He means, true imitation that demands great sacrifice and the depth of which that only exists in our own personal Cross, something all of us have, no matter who we are.

In fact, St. Augustine, a great saint of the Church, once said: “Our pilgrimage on earth cannot be exempt from trial. We progress by means of trial. No one knows himself except through trial, or receives a crown except after victory, or strives except against an enemy or temptations.” So, whether it has come in the form of a loss of someone close to you, a loss of a job, for some of you, a physical ailment, a sickness, a surgery, a temptation, a problem with family or friends, or any other sufferings. Perhaps, it has not been seen as such, but, quite simply, that is Christ saying: “come, take up your cross and follow me.”

Yet, if we are honest, most of us fear the Cross, we fear what it wants of us and we would rather flee from the Cross than to embrace it. And, truth be told, that is a natural response, because it asks of what we don’t want, it requests that we deny our very selves and not just ourselves, but all of those things and people we find that hinder us from fully embracing that Cross.

And, truly, this is one of the most painful aspects of the Cross, to hate, as Jesus says, father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, and even our own lives.
However, to hate, in this context, is not the same hate we know and harbor, rather, it is hate, as it is rendered in the Semitic, which means to detach ourselves, or, put another way, to love another not on our own but through God, with Him, not apart from Him. So, that by embracing the Cross we are placing priorities in our lives, never forgetting what we learned in the solitude of Gethsemane and finding out who we truly are, what we are truly made of and how strong we can actually be.

For, the difficulty arises when we don’t see the inherent contradiction that lies within the Cross, that, in spite of what we think, the Cross is not a sign of death but life, for Christ has made it that way, so that the real death, as it were, is turning away, or fleeing from the Cross.

And, on a personal note, I don’t believe I would be standing before you today if it weren’t for my own Cross, because when I was a teenager I had a combined total of 7 surgeries, two of which were open-heart and 5 of which were for a pacemaker. On top of that, as I was recovering, I lost my father; yet, it was those heavy burdens that drew me, literally, to the foot of the Cross, (a different story for a different day) and where I found my vocation to the priesthood.

And, as strange as it may sound, that is the power of the Cross, that is what it means to daily embrace the burdens that Christ places upon us, because we then see not just what the Cross means, but how it shapes our lives and calls us to make the difficult decision to bear the heavy weight upon our shoulders, to walk side by side with Christ, to renounce everything we are, and everything we think we are, and to truly see that next to Him we are a speck in this vast existence, an ant in comparison to the Cross. So that we know and fully understand that the Cross is a symbol of hope, the Cross is a symbol of Resurrection, the Cross is a symbol of new life, it is more than just pain, it is more than renunciation, for, in the end, the Cross is truly nothing more than the banner of victory.

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C (Humility)

2010-08-28T21:19:00.002-04:00

Humility, true humility is found not by becoming less than who we are, but, rather, by becoming who we truly are in Christ.

For though humility lies in a sense of hiddeness, it is not in the sense that we hide our talents under a bushel basket but, rather, work behind the scenes as Christ accomplishes what He wants through us.

Yet, in order for that to happen, we must heed the instruction of our first reading today from Sirach with its simple and practical instruction: “What is too sublime for you, seek not, into things beyond your strength search not.” In other words, to use the popular phrase: “Know thyself.”

For by knowing ourselves, our own limitations, we see what true humility is, a realization that, indeed, alone we cannot do anything, but with God all things are possible, and we further see that it is He who gives us this humility, it is He who humbles or He who exalts us.

Mother Teresa, who would have celebrated her 100th birthday this past Thursday, would often speak to her novices about this as humility with a hook. “If I try to make myself as small as I can,” she would say, “I’ll never become humble. It is humility with a hook. True humility, she says, is truth.”

And she then gives some of the best advice I have ever heard, she says:

“Humility comes when I stand as tall as I can, and look at all of my strengths, and the reality about me, but put myself alongside Jesus Christ. And it's there, when I humble myself before Him, and realize the truth of who He is, when I accept God's estimate of myself, stop being fooled about myself and impressed with myself, that I begin to learn humility. The higher I am in grace, the lower I should be in my own estimation because I am comparing myself with the Lord God.”

I remember once I had a spiritual director who made a similar recommendation, he told me to pray that I may see myself as God sees me. If you ever want to be truly humbled I don’t know of a faster or more painful way, because when your soul is laid bare, you come to see who you are and not whom you think you are.

And that is the point I think Jesus is trying to make, that true humility does consist of humbling ourselves, but doing so with the purpose of realizing who we truly are, of seeing ourselves as God sees us, of being the one not at the head of the table but the one bringing the food to those seated.

It is not a hidden pride or a false sense of self-deprecation, but of honesty, of knowing who we are, what we are capable of, and how we stand, as Mother Teresa reminds, next to Jesus, how we stand as one who strives to imitate Him. For, it is by this and this alone that we can come to that wedding banquet, and not just be invited to a higher position but find ourselves, at last, in that place of honor.

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

2010-08-08T08:12:00.002-04:00

In our Gospel today, Jesus reminds us of something that is hard to hear, that each and every one of us is mortal, that each and every one of us have a limited time here on this earth and that it is important to live our lives always aware that this is the case.

For, as scary as it may be, we are reminded, that this is not our true homeland, that something greater and much more beautiful awaits us in Heaven, which is why we must be vigilant here on earth, and prepare ourselves well, knowing that all else is transitory, all else is fleeting, because, as our second reading reminds, at heart, “we are strangers and aliens on earth.”

In fact, it was Thomas A. Kempis, author of the Imitation of Christ, who puts it quite beautifully, he says: “You have here no lasting city. For wherever you find yourself, you will always be a pilgrim from another city. Until you are united intimately with Christ, you will never find your true rest.”

That is why, each and every day we have to live as men and women of faith, confident in what we believe and knowing that, as it says in our second reading: “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.” That is, without faith what we do here would make little sense, what we do would have no impact and would have no lasting value in our lives or in our heart.

In fact, without faith all we would see is merely bread and wine, rather than the Body and Blood of Christ, a counseling session, rather than a moment of mercy, a baby bath, rather than a washing of sins, a mark of the cross upon the forehead and a shake of the hand, rather than the sealing of the Holy Spirit, a bunch of men lying on the floor, rather than a complete overshadowing of God in their lives, or a man and a woman speaking loving words to each other rather than a covenant which no one can tear asunder.

For faith does not just move mountains, it transforms our very lives, so that we see with a vision towards Heaven, so that we see the true worth of our time here on earth. That is why we must be vigilant, that is why we must heed the words of Christ in our Gospel today, because, truly vigilance begets our faith and our faith removes all fear, fear of death and fear of the shortness of our lives, helping us to see that we are merely passing through, that, at heart, we are homesick children longing to return to our Father.

This is why the saints prayed day and night, sacrificing sleep, food and shelter, in some cases, not because they were crazy, as many think, but because those moments of prayer brought them closer to the reality they longed for, brought them closer to understanding and catching a glimpse of what awaited them when they departed from this world.

That is why we, too, need to be prepared, why, we too, need to imitate those saints, because as scary as it may sound, at an unexpected hour the Son of Man will, indeed, come, and it should not be an occasion of fear, but, rather, a returning home where as our Gospel promises we will be welcomed, seated at a table and it will be God Himself serving us, giving us what we need, true food and true drink; the very same that we have a foretaste of at this table, at this altar, in the Eucharist that we receive.

Today then let us always make ourselves ready, waiting for the Lord, for whenever He may return, vigilant in our prayer and strong in our faith, knowing that our true hope should be in Heaven and our desire to see it in all its beauty, longing and pining as a child lost and looking for fulfillment that none of us can find here on earth.

For, as our Gospel reminds our true treasure can never be found here, but only where our heart is, where, hopefully, we have stored up all that will be waiting for us when and if we find our way home. So that, in the end, our prayers, our worship and our love can come to ultimate fruition with God, our Father, in Heaven.

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

2010-08-01T10:18:00.002-04:00

Today’s three readings can all be summarized in what Jesus says in our Gospel today: “one’s life does not consist of possessions.”

And yet, to us, that may sound strange, because our entire lives are made up of possessions, things we have, things we need and things we want. But the point is not the possession, nor the fact that we own it, rather, it is something more.

The man in the parable had a rich and bountiful harvest and stopped at nothing to make sure it was all taken care of, storing up his great treasures here on earth. And, when he had finished, he came to see that it was all in vain, that everything he had he was going to lose that very night, he came to realize the hard truth that, in the end, “you can’t take it with you.”

And, that is the point, this man was so concerned with what he owned that he never once gave thanks for having owned it, he never once turned to God in thanksgiving. In fact, there is no mention of God in this man’s life at all. He was more attached to the things he had acquired and more concerned with maintaining them to the detriment and well being of his own spiritual life and his own soul.

In fact, his was a life that our first reading portrays quite well, the vanity of vanities, which translated from its original Hebrew is equivalent to a breath, a vapor, a “chase after the wind.” For, in the end, for this man, he got distracted from what is important, from what has true worth for those things that are passing and fleeting.

Now, that is not to say that wealth is bad, nor owning possessions evil, but rather they need to be viewed as means to an end rather than an end in themselves, or put simply, we must be careful to not be possessed by our possessions.

St. Paul, in our second reading, put it very well, he says: “Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.” In other words, as I once heard someone recommend, we should go through our things and thank God for every single one of them and then offer them back to Him so that we might look at them in a new way, and see in them, from the smallest tube of toothpaste to the TV we watch, to the computer we use, a blessing and an opportunity to give God the thanks He is due.

Because, then we will see that the greatest treasures in life are, indeed, those for which no price tag can be put, for those which cannot be held in our hands but, rather, stored in our hearts. In fact, I always tell married couples that no matter the great gifts they have been given, in time they will break, stop working, rust, rip or deteriorate, but the gift they leave with from this altar, the great gift of the Eucharist, the great gift of God Himself, the great graces He wishes to bestow will last a lifetime.

And, the same is true with us, so, that each time we come to Mass we see the true worth of what we own overshadowed by the true worth of what we have, so that those little treasures we have in this world become merely a means to store up true treasure in Heaven making us incredibly rich in what truly and only matters, those things that matter to God.

15th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C (Good Samaritan)

2010-07-10T16:14:00.004-04:00

With God’s love, the seemingly impossible becomes possible, because, with His love, a complete stranger becomes a neighbor and a choice that can have dire consequences is made with ease. Between the priest, the Levite and the Samaritan, it is the Samaritan that can lose the most, because he puts himself in greater risk, since he does what the others avoided.

The priest passes by because, if the man lying in the street is a non-Jew, he risks defilement and would have to go through a lengthy purification process, so, in his mind, he can’t even check to see if the man is dead.

The Levite passes by, because he is afraid, since it is clear that this road is obviously full of bandits and robbers and they were known to use the seemingly sick and dying as decoys.

It is only the Samaritan who puts all that aside and strictly out of compassion, tends this man wounds and even though he faces the same risks and even more so, since he can also be identified with this unknown man, who may be a thief or murderer himself, it becomes irrelevant to the mercy he has placed above all else.

And, this is the model that Jesus gives us; this is what it means to be a neighbor and to love our neighbor as ourselves, because love, true Christian love, begets charity and charity, in the words of St. Gertrude the Great: “makes its own what belongs to our neighbors.”

For, any charitable deed, any work that we do, must be motivated by love, not simple, emotional and attached love, but love in its truest form, that is, sacrificial, unassuming and selfless.

It was Blessed Mother Teresa who used to say: “If we pray, we will believe; If we believe, we will love; If we love, we will serve.”

That is why whenever we speak of love, it is so difficult, because we truly cannot speak of it as though it is our own, for the very essence of love itself is both a mystery and a seeming contradiction, one that I am sure we are all familiar with at this point, that in order to love we need to experience love, and in order for that to happen, we need to spend time with He who is love itself, because without God, all love, whether we believe it or not, is empty, all love, without Him, is still wanting.

That is why at this Mass as at every Mass it is made so clear, because, when I, or any priest, holds up that Eucharist we are literally holding before you a beating heart, holding the essence, the very source and the center of all of our love.

So, that what we receive becomes a part of who we become, and we then love not with our own abilities, but with God’s, so that truly we love everyone, through, with and in Him. And, with Blessed Mother Teresa we, too can say: “I see God in every human being. When I wash the leper's wounds, I feel I am nursing the Lord himself.”

And, personally, I cannot think of a better message, or any better words to leave you with before I go, because, if you take anything from any of the homilies that I have preached to you these past four years, it is that our lives should be motivated and led strictly and only by the love of God. Granted, sometimes we tend to get in His way, and not let His love work, but that is the struggle of being a Christian, of letting His Will be done in spite of our own, because true love gives of itself in spite of itself and there is nothing greater in the entire universe than to know that we are men and women freely governed and led by God’s Will, by our love of His.

Because, in the end, what truly matters is holiness, and the mark of holiness is simply this: loving God with the entirety of ourselves, with all our heart, all our being, all our strength and all our mind, because, by doing so, everything else follows, love of neighbor, peace of heart, and obedience to His Will.

Therefore, if I can leave you with anything it is simply that, because when we realize that we realize, too, indeed, we are a dependent people, a dependent people, however, who daily do the impossible because, ultimately, all things, everything is possible with God.

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C (Harvest is Abundant)

2010-07-03T16:46:00.005-04:00

Each and every one of us has a vocation, that is, a unique call by God Himself to fulfill His Will in our lives, because, each of us, in our own way, and by our example, become a witness to our faith.

And, while this may be true, the idea of a vocation is very foreign, because we have fallen into the mindset that our work is our identity, that who we are is shaped by what we do.

Yet, that is not what a vocation is, rather, it is a specific and intentional call by God Himself to bring the fullness of His kingdom to earth, be it as a single person, as a married couple or as a priest or religious. That is what it means to work in the vineyard, that is what it means to be laborers of the harvest.

For, while all of us are sent to fulfill this specific task that God has in store for us, not all of us are willing and ready to follow, because, in some sense, it is too simple of a call, we need not have anything with us, no money bag, no sack, no sandals, instead, we need only go forward with only one thing, that is, trust in God.

And, believe it or not, that is our greatest challenge, to walk in faith, to let each step of our lives be an act of complete surrender, to walk, in a sense, like the Apostles, from house to house, town to town, never knowing what to expect, never knowing what it is God is calling us to each time.

Yet, that is why, it seems, the laborers are so few, because, the challenge is greater, the call to be a priest or religious, especially, does not have the same appeal in the environment in which we live, and so, if someone is called, they are not as eager to heed that call.

In fact, more often than not, of those ordained within the past couple of years, there was hesitation, deliberation, procrastination and fear. It happened to me, it happened to Deacon Jared, and it happened to a lot of those who are ordained today.

It used to be that God would call once and His voice would be heard, now it is that He nags and is persistent until He is finally, first acknowledged, and then heard.

That is why all of us have a great responsibility of recognizing religious vocations and, at least, offering the invitation, like I, myself, will be doing. It used to be the priest or nun who would see that vocation and encourage it, but now that there are so few of us, we all have that added responsibility, if even to just ask.

Truth be told, my mom is the reason I am standing here before you today, because one time while we were on vacation, she heard a voice, which doesn’t happen often, and this voice asked her to ask me if I wanted to be a priest. At that time I had thought about it, but never really pursued it, however, it was only after she invited me to think about it that indeed I did, and, eventually acknowledged and then pursued my own call.
Granted, there are many things in the Church that have made it more unappealing to pursue such a vocation and certain things that the Church requires that some may find difficult, but with a vocation comes grace and with that grace comes the ability to live the seemingly impossible, for, as we hear elsewhere, “all things are possible with God.”

And, if that is the case, then it is impossible to believe that God has stopped calling, it is just that He needs others, like yourselves, to help them hear His voice and discern their call, for by doing so, then, the harvest will not just be abundant, but the laborers, themselves, as well.

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C (Follow Me)

2010-06-26T15:30:00.001-04:00

“Follow Me.”

Two of the most challenging, difficult and haunting words that Jesus has ever spoken, because, with those two words, He calls us forth from the comfort of our lives to the seeming uncertainty and unpredictable way of His Will.

And, like the disciples, we are given two options, to respond in immediacy, without hesitation or deliberation or to try to prolong the inevitable and make excuses in order to avoid being called.

With those words, Jesus reminds us that to be a disciple we will not always know the road ahead of us, nor may we know what will be asked of us, which is why our response is so important, because it is our response that will define us in our vocation and will determine whether in great trust if we will leave, follow and be guided or look for an excuse like that of even wanting to bury the dead.

For, while it seems like this man in our Gospel has good intentions, Jesus sees through Him and tells Him: “let the dead bury the dead.” He is not being callous or disrespectful, because, there is absolutely no indication that this man’s father was even dead, or, for that matter, even sick. It is, rather, an excuse to not follow Him at that moment, to avoid what it is he is being called to do, that of, as Jesus says, proclaiming the kingdom of God.

Yet, the hesitation and fear of the unknown is always what prevents us from responding as we should, and while Jesus does not make it any easier by stating that He has nowhere to rest His head, He shows us what it means to have that true type of abandonment, to go where we are called and to put all of our trust in the Will of the Father.

That by putting our hand to the plow, we don’t look back, not because we don’t want to or because we don’t feel that sense of nostalgia, but because, when we reach that level of trust in God, that obedience and submissiveness to His Will, we will have no other desire than to look forward, to embrace what is to come not as an uncertainty or as a mystery, but, rather, as another road that God has directed us towards, another desire He wishes to fulfill within us.

And, strangely enough, this is one of those rare opportunities whereby I get to literally practice what I preach, because, as many of you know, in a few short weeks I will be saying my final goodbyes to everyone here at St. Margaret’s, after four great years. For, God has seen fit to call me forth for the task of finding more vocations for the diocese.

Yet, it stands as a very clear reminder that every day, every moment, in one way or another, no matter who we are, how old we are or where we are, we are called and asked to follow in confidence and in faith.

We need not make excuses, like those in our Gospel, and we need not find ways of avoiding it, but, rather each day, give of ourselves, making of ourselves a living sacrifice to God, so that we become not just disciples and great followers, but reach a point as St. Paul has said elsewhere, where it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives within me.

So that when we hear the invitation, the simple call from God, everyday to “Follow me,” without hesitation, reservation or excuse, we get up, embrace our cross, ready and willing, always and everywhere to do His Will.

Solemnity of Corpus Christi, Cycle C

2010-06-05T21:28:00.003-04:00

Today we celebrate Corpus Christi, the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ, the day when we focus on that which is the very source and summit, the very essence of our faith.

For, before us God is present and, in a little while, within us, God will be present, because, what begins this celebration as mere bread and wine becomes the very Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Himself.

That is what makes the Eucharist so important, that is what countless people have fought for, lived for and died for. In fact, a bishop of Vietnam, by the name of Francois-Xavier Nguyen van Thuan was captured and put in solitary confinement for most of his life. His one consolation was the piece of bread and drop of wine that was smuggled to him so that he would be able to say Mass.

Or, in the times of persecution, a 12-year old altar server by the name of St. Tarcisius was among the many Christians who were forced to go underground in what are known as catacombs to celebrate Mass. As the story goes, there was no deacon and so St. Tarcisius, was sent carrying the "Holy Mysteries" to those in prison.

On his way, he was stopped by boys his own age, who were not Christians, but asked him to join their games. He refused and the crowd of boys noticed that he was carrying something. They became curious but St. Tarcisius would not let them see, so they beat him up severely until a fellow Christian rescued him and brought him back to the catacombs. However, on his way, he died and was buried in the cemetery of St. Callistus.

Proof positive that the Eucharist is not merely bread and wine, but so much more, because if that bread and wine remained just bread and wine, then there is absolutely no reason for us to here today, there is absolutely no reason to fall down in adoration before that tabernacle or before a monstrance, in short, there is absolutely no reason to have a Church. In fact, if that bread and wine remained just bread and wine, we would be idolaters and the great sacrifices of all the holy men and women and of all the saints would be pointless and in vain.

That is why every Mass culminates in communion, because at that moment, there is no longer bread and wine, but the Eucharist itself, and, at that moment, it is not just something we know, something we pray before, He literally becomes a part of us, so that we become, in essence, living tabernacles, true temples of the Holy Spirit, in short, we become vessels of God Himself.

So, that His Body and His Blood are not only something we receive, but something that changes who we are, because, in truth, we cannot receive God and not be changed, we cannot receive such power, such grace and such humility, without becoming, literally, a new creation in Christ.

Mere bread and wine, no matter how much of it we eat or drink, can never do that, it can never become the living sacrifice, the same sacrifice in Calvary, the same sacrifice in Heaven, because it is only by the words of consecration, it is only at the Mass itself where this can occur, and does occur throughout the world each and every moment of each and every day.

That is why we are here today, that is what we celebrate, that is why we approach this place with reverence and adoration, because the Eucharist is here and nowhere else can that be found, nowhere else is it offered than right here.

Therefore, let us never take advantage of such a great gift; let us never take lightly this very identity of our faith as Catholics, knowing, in the end, that our faith is not centered on mere bread and wine, but the living and true, the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ, Our Lord.

Solemnity of the Holy Trinity, Cycle C

2010-05-30T16:30:00.000-04:00

One of the greatest mysteries of our faith is that of the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, it is something that challenges, that frustrates and that confuses us, because it brings us into the very heart of God and it compels us to speak directly about something none of us can ever completely know.

That, of course, does not mean that it is pointless for us to contemplate God Himself, rather, it shows and reminds us that this is one of those mysteries that cannot be solved by mere logical deduction, this is one of those mysteries that cannot be solved through study alone, because this mystery is what leads us to the greatest heights of prayer and to the overwhelming desire to drop to our knees in adoration. For, as one priest put it: “what else can we do in the face of God but contemplate?”

In fact, it was Archbishop Luis Martinez, author of the great spiritual classic, The Sanctifier, who put it well, he said: “If God were not so great, if he were not infinite, if we could comprehend him or exhaust him, we would not love him as we do; he would not satisfy our hearts.”

For, it is in contemplating Him that we constantly learn more about Him and in learning more about Him, we find more things to love, again and again, so that, in that love we reach the most perfect and purest form of adoration, and, in that, get to experience a glimpse, a moment, a passing understanding of who God truly is.

Because, though He is shrouded in mystery, though He is incomprehensible and inexhaustible, He still reaches us out us to allow us to come closer to the fullness of Himself as the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. He is not some remote being out in some far off galaxy, but God Himself who is here in our midst, in our Eucharist, in one who desires that, indeed, we do come to know Him more and more. And, the way that happens is through contemplation, what many spiritual writers would call, “the highest form of prayer.” Yet, if we are honest, this is the type of prayer we don’t take the time to do, to contemplate Him, to seek Him and to know Him as He is, in short, to “Be still and know that He is God.”

Yet, all prayer, no matter what it is, is actually meant to lead to this greater contemplation of God Himself, for the Rosary, the novenas, the Scripture reading, everything we do, in that sense, is merely a gateway to the contemplation of Almighty God. And, when we kneel before that Blessed Sacrament, when we fall down in adoration before Him, we are, in actual fact, before the Blessed Trinity.

So that, before us, we see the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and though veiled from our physical eyes, we see Him with the eyes of faith. For, there the Trinity is revealed, there we understand and get a fleeting glimpse of Heaven itself.

Because we all know that He is 3 Persons yet one God, that He is infinite, immortal, almighty and eternal, and that He is perfect love pouring Himself out for the other so that, as our second reading says: “the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Yet, unless we contemplate that, unless we fall before Him in adoration and love, approaching Him, in faith, it will mean nothing, it will yield no greater understanding.

For, this day is the culmination of our faith, the summit of our belief and a reminder that daily we face one of the greatest and most incomprehensible mysteries of our lives, and no words, no amount of clarification can truly explain what we must experience for our very selves.

In fact, every time we celebrate this feast of the Holy Trinity, I cannot help but be reminded of that great story about St. Thomas Aquinas. For those who don’t know him, he is one of the greatest intellectuals the Church has ever had, and he spent his entire life writing the deepest and most profound theology and philosophy, most of which the Church still uses even today. It is said, that one day he had a vision of the Trinity itself and it so overwhelmed and astounded him that he never wrote again. He said: “I can write no more. I have seen things which make all my writings like straw.”

And, this mystery, though unfathomable in its scope, is one that God wishes to reveal to those who spend time with Him, to those who contemplate Him in His glory. For, in the words of a great spiritual writer, with whom I leave you with today: “What can [we] say in the presence of such a sublime mystery? What can [we] understand of it? Nothing!,” he says, But the mystery is so sublime and it so exceeds our understanding, that we can only bow our heads and adore in silence.”

The Solemnity of Pentecost, Cycle C

2010-05-22T16:37:00.002-04:00

Today, we celebrate the feast of the Holy Spirit, the Birthday of the Church, the end of Easter, the Solemnity of Pentecost. For, today, we ask that this Third Person of the Most Blessed Trinity, may fill our hearts and come before us today, to bring us His divine gifts, His supernatural gifts, those Jesus promised us as He departed from our sight, those that we have been praying for these past 9 days.

Wisdom, knowledge, understanding, counsel, piety, fortitude, fear of the Lord, 7 incredible and powerful gifts that not only help to make us holy but, literally, transform us into living vessels, true and lasting Temples of God Himself.

For, unseen in any holy man or woman, unseen in the powerful preacher, speaker, or teacher of faith, unseen in the confessor and the healer is this most beautiful, most profound and most powerful Spirit.

And though His work is, indeed, unseen His presence is known, constantly, in our hearts, in our lives, and in our midst, by the unfathomable experience of His very self that does nothing more than completely overwhelm us, bringing us to our knees, so that we fall down in love, adoration and praise of our God, for, as St. Paul reminds: “we do not know how to pray as we ought,” rather, it is the Spirit Himself who intercedes on our behalf.

So that the practice of the Holy Spirit in our lives, the calling forth of His great gifts bestow upon us the very fruits of sanctification, the very essence of a life lived under His powerful hand. From the virtues of charity, joy, peace and patience, to kindness, goodness, generosity and gentleness, to faithfulness, modesty, self-control and chastity, 12 rewards that the Church names as a effect, as it were, from those 7 amazing gifts.

And, what’s more, is that in being receptive to the Holy Spirit, to what He wants to offer, to all of His gifts, we learn to imitate one of the greatest saints in the world, we learn to imitate Mary, the only one whose title is the Spouse of the Holy Spirit, and the one whom many spiritual writers say we must go to in order to not just learn holiness but from whom we truly achieve holiness.

In fact, in his spiritual classic, “The Sanctifier,” a former archbishop of Mexico, Archbishop Luis Martinez says the way Jesus is reproduced in our souls: “Two artisans, as he calls them, must occur in the work that is at once God’s masterpiece and humanity’s supreme product: the Holy Spirit and the most holy Virgin Mary.”

Because, when the Holy Spirit overshadowed her, Jesus immediately dwelt in her womb, so that when the Holy Spirit overshadows us Jesus dwells in our soul, and it is Mary who shows us how this happens, it is Mary who reminds us how to accept that same Holy Spirit as an important guest in our lives.

In fact, those who have a devotion to the Holy Spirit will almost always have a devotion to Mary and vice versa, because they recognize their importance in our sanctification, they recognize that though unequal in authority, they are both indispensable to our holiness.

That is why today, in the upper room, with Mary and the Apostles, we celebrate this great feast of the Holy Spirit, who, like a driving wind, a fire in our hearts, and a river of living water comes before us, drawing us to holiness and slowly sanctifying our souls.

For, within that unseen Spirit, an untapped power dwells, full of everything we need, full of everything we could possibly want, and if we but understood what this meant we would never cease praying to Him, we would never stop asking His intercession, we would never stop seeking holiness in our lives.

Therefore, let us echo that beautiful hymn to the Holy Spirit, calling Him forth saying always and everywhere: “Come, Holy Spirit, Creator blest, and in our souls take up Thy rest; come with Thy grace and heavenly aid to fill the hearts which Thou hast made.”

7th Sunday of Easter, Cycle C (Prayer)

2010-05-15T18:51:00.003-04:00

Prayer, is a conversation of love, because, when we are praying, we are not merely speaking words, we are literally pouring ourselves out. So that what we say is coming from the deepest recesses of our soul, from the greatest depths of our heart.

That is what makes this prayer of Jesus, in our Gospel today, so beautiful, so profound and so perfect, because it is the Incarnate Word, God Himself, in His humanity, praying for us. It is Jesus Himself, not just showing us the love that dwells within the very center of the Trinity, but an invitation for us to experience it as well. It is literally love speaking love, a complete pouring out of one to the other.

In fact, that is why this is called Jesus’ Priestly Prayer, because as the Priest, whom all priests are conformed to, He offers the very sacrifice of His passion and death, He literally pours Himself out on the Cross, so that what He does, all ordained priests are called to do, so that what He does all of us are to imitate in living a sacrificial life.

And, in fact, that is what lies at the heart of prayer, that is what all prayer demands, sacrifice, the ability to lay down our very selves, to step away from who want to be in order to allow God to show us who we truly are. For, if prayer is a conversation of love than we cannot deceive ourselves, we cannot try to deceive God, because if we are not willing to pour ourselves out, if we are not willing to make every effort that prayer demands, setting apart time, or not doing something else when we should be praying, then our hearts will never burn for God whom we should love above all things. It was St. Louis de Montfort who put it well, he said: “The more you give yourself, the more God will give himself to you.”

In our Gospel, this was Jesus’ promise, this was His request, His prayer for us: “that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us.” So, that the more we give, the more we receive, so that our prayer, though not perfect like His, will still have merit, will still be a conversation of love, because, at heart, that is what love is, that is what Jesus said love is, laying down our very lives, because it doesn’t have to be a physical laying down it can be spiritual, it can be giving of our lives to God.

And, how can we not, how can we not give our lives to God? For Jesus Himself, in our Gospel, calls us His gift, gladly accepting all of us, gladly suffering and dying for all of us, in spite of ourselves, in spite of our failings, in spite of our sins. And, His desire, His greatest desire, His only desire is that all of us get join Him in Heaven, that all of us get to experience that great joy. In fact, He says: “I wish that where I am they also may be with me, that they may see my glory that you gave me.”

Is it any wonder then that our sins hurt Him so much, that our conscious choosing to abandon Him causes Him so much pain and torment? That is why our prayer has to be as His, a constant pouring out, in our words, in our actions, in everything we do, so that we live what we pray, we believe what we pray, knowing what prayer truly is, a conversation not in words only, but a conversation of love, love sincerely speaking to love.

Ascension Thursday, Cycle C

2010-05-13T09:18:00.003-04:00

Today we celebrate the feast of the Ascension, when Christ, 40 days after His glorious Resurrection ascended into heaven. It is the final component of the paschal mystery, the crowning achievement of His Passion, death and Resurrection, the fulfillment and completion of our redemption.

It is a day of victory and a day of triumph, for He returns to the Father taking with Him our very humanity, entering the heights of Heaven with it, so that He literally raises our fallen flesh. So, that where He goes we also hope to go, seeing Him, as He is, face to face, no longer veiled by His humanity, but fully seen in His glory.

That is why, however, we have to work here on earth in order to achieve what is promised of us. For, His departure is necessary, because it reminds us of our responsibility to become ambassadors of Christ, it reminds us that we must bring His message far and wide, because just as those Apostles were left on their own by Christ to continue His work, we, too are called to the same. Otherwise, our very faith will no longer continue, our very beliefs will become empty.

Therefore, it is a departure that is necessary. For, everything He has endured, the cross, the Passion and death is itself now raised, redeemed and exalted. And this could only happen once He ascended, because, as He ascends the Holy Spirit descends, and His promise, the great promise of the Father becomes a reality.

Therefore, we celebrate more than just Jesus’ Ascension, we celebrate His very victory over sin and death, we celebrate that Jesus truly is the one in control, our Divine King, the ruler of the entire universe, the Savior, and Creator of the world.

This is why the words of the angels should echo in our own hearts as well, as a beautiful reminder and as a future promise: “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky? This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.”

His Ascension does not mean He is no longer with us, because, in truth, He can never fully leave us, rather, He has only brought us closer to Himself, giving us everything we could possibly need, His very own Body and Blood in the Eucharist and the guidance and grace of the Holy Spirit.

Therefore, today is a feast, it is a day of celebration, because, like the Apostles we are called to return with great joy to our lives, constantly and always worshipping Him.

Yet, if sadness touches our hearts, as many saints before us have said, it is, indeed only proof of the love we feel for Him. So that as He departs, raising His hand in blessing, we know that He has not abandoned us, but has taken us with Him, closer to Himself, to the very heights of Heaven, where at the right hand of the Father, He intercedes on our behalf, where in love, He returns to us when we receive Him in the Eucharist.

6th Sunday of Easter, Cycle C (Heaven)

2010-05-08T19:16:00.007-04:00

NOTE: While the above picture is of the Tridentine Mass, the same is still true with the one we celebrate now, what we call the Novus Ordo Mass.

In the year 70 A.D. something tragic happened that changed the course of history, Christianity and Judaism forever, because in that year, the holy city of Jerusalem fell and the great Temple that stood there was destroyed. It was a tragedy for everyone and Jesus Himself even wept over this holy city.

Yet, amidst the rubble and the destruction, as Catholic author Scott Hahn points out, there is a small neglected historical detail, that one structure did remain, that one Church still stood, the first Christian church structure…on Mount Zion.

The place where the upper room was, the place where the Holy Spirit descended upon the Apostles, the place where Jesus instituted the Eucharist.

In our second reading today, John, in the Book of Revelation, sees something amazing, he sees that same holy city, Jerusalem descending upon the earth, but it is not as it was, rather, it is a restored city, a new city, an eternal city, a New Jerusalem, “touching down” as Hahn puts it: “On Mount Zion [the place known as the heavenly Jerusalem] where Jesus had…instituted the Eucharist…where Christians till [70 A.D.] met to celebrate the Eucharist,” so that, as he goes on to say: “The new Jerusalem came to earth, then as now, in the place where Christians celebrated the supper of the Lamb.”

In other words, at this very Mass Heaven itself is literally descending upon the earth, in fact, that is why the church here is as it is, because it imitates, in the most beautiful and the most solemn way the heavenly feast so that together we worship, we sing and we adore with the angels and the saints. That too, is why God’s presence is in the center of it all, so that our focus is constantly drawn to Him, He who is our source, our summit and the center of our lives.

So that when we come to Mass, we are not just walking into a Church, waiting for the show to start, rather, we are preparing ourselves to enter into one of the most profound and most beautiful mysteries of our lives, the very essence of Heaven on earth and the fact that we, ourselves, sinners, though we are, constantly in need of mercy, can receive God, He who in His power not only created the universe, but that very same Heaven itself.

And, even though it is part of what believe, it seems that many of us do not take the time to think about Heaven, and, perhaps, the reason is that we might think it too boring, too distant or too unattainable, when, in fact, it is closer than we might realize, that all we need to do is come here, to see and know and experience what is in store for those who are ready.

So that when and if we enter Heaven we will see, as St. John did, that there is no Temple, there is no Church to remind us of God, because, in Heaven, as St. John says, He is the Temple, and we will dwell there, within Him, within the very heart of the Trinity itself.

And there we will need no light, we will not need the sun or moon, because God will be the light, and those who receive Him, just on earth, will bring that same light to others, so that the Eucharist as it is here, will be an unfading fire in Heaven, so that the Resurrection we look forward to, will be a dawn that never sets.

For, this is the mystery and the beautiful experience that we get a glimpse of and that we get to partake in every time we come here, every time we celebrate the Mass.

Therefore, let us never take advantage of such an opportunity, let us be attentive and prayerful, seeing it not as just another day we have to go to Mass but as the gift that it is, a doorway to Heaven opening a pathway before us to the angels to the saints and to very life of God, where in their midst we celebrate the same feast as them, the heavenly feast, the eternal banquet of the Lamb.

5th Sunday of Easter, Cycle C (Love)

2010-05-02T16:16:00.003-04:00

To love one another we must first love God, because, whether we believe it or not, we do not know how to love unless it has been given to us from the one who is love, and became love incarnate.

In fact, that is the new commandment, that is what Christ means when He says we must love one another as He has loved us, because, otherwise, we have no model, no understanding, no concept of what love truly is. Because, to be a Christian is to imitate Christ, and to imitate Him means we love without reservation, that we love others, that we love Him as completely as He Himself loves us.

For, as the famous saint and Doctor of Church, St. Bede the Venerable has said: “God cannot be loved apart from our neighbor, nor our neighbor apart from God,” and, though it might seem a bit circular, it underscores something very important, that we cannot say we love the Creator but hate His creation, that is, we cannot say we love God only while, at the same time, hating or refusing to forgive our neighbor in our hearts.

It is, of course, one of the more challenging tasks that Jesus puts before us, but, we should know by now, that He does not ask to do what is easy, but to do what is needed, what is necessary, in a word, that which demands sacrifice. And love, in any form, is a great sacrifice, because it is a complete giving of ourselves, an abandonment that knows no bounds. That is why one who seeks holiness, why those whom we call saints are so eccentric, because they are and have been men and women in love, men and women who would go beyond what is necessary, beyond what is needed until they could give no more.

In fact, there is a beautiful story about Blessed Mother Teresa that illustrates this perfectly. It is said, that a journalist accompanied her as she made her rounds, caring, as she did, for the sick and the dying. One of the men had a horrible wound that gave off a foul odor. Mother Teresa, went over to that man, calmly washed the wound, all the while speaking softly to him. After Mother Teresa finished and they were walking away, the journalist said, "I wouldn't do that for all the gold in the world."

Mother Teresa replied, "Neither would I."

Jesus teaches us that our motivation should not be found in ourselves, our motivation should not be found in what it is we can get from it, but, rather, in the simple act of love, love of God and love of neighbor. And though it may not be new in the sense of hearing about it again, and again and again, it is new, because each day is another opportunity to demonstrate, to live and to act on that love as though it were, again, the first time that we did something out of a pure love, out of love that sought nothing but to give more, as much as we possibly could.

In my office, I have this great picture of a shadow of Christ seemingly above the entire world, and, though I know I have probably shared it before, it is the perfect summation of what Jesus did for us. Because, at the bottom of this picture, it says: “I asked Jesus how much do you love me?” “This much, He answered,” and He stretched out His arms and died.

Indeed, there is no greater love than that, no greater love that He, Himself could ask us for as well.

This is why, as many saints and spiritual writers have put it, to live for Christ we must die to ourselves, so that it is not our will but God’s Will that is done, because, to give of our will is truly the greatest act of love, because we give the entirety of our being, we give so that God can use us as a vessel, we give so that we may be able to love, as God does, one another.

For, then, by that, we will be known as disciples, we will be known as Christians, we will be known by our love.

Good Shepherd Sunday, Cycle C

2010-04-24T16:50:00.006-04:00

In his very first homily as Pope, Pope Benedict XVI preached the following, he said: “One of the basic characteristics of a shepherd must be to love the people entrusted to him, even as he loves Christ Whom he serves. 'Feed my sheep,' says Christ to Peter, and now, at this moment, He says it to me as well. Feeding means loving, and loving also means being ready to suffer. Loving means giving the sheep what is truly good, the nourishment of God's truth, of God's word, the nourishment of His presence, which He gives us in the Blessed Sacrament.”

Today, is Good Shepherd Sunday, today is World Day for the Prayer of Vocations, both of which, in this day and age, seem like the last choice anyone would want to make in his or her life. For, daily we are reminded of the bad shepherds, daily we are exposed to those who have freely turned their back on their vocation, and daily we watch as our Church is attacked for it.

So that another priest is accused, another bishop maligned and even the Pope threatened to be arrested, and yet, history shows that this is not new, history shows that for thousands of generations, this was the Church, the only Church, a persecuted Church, and that what was true back then is also true now, that both the good and bad shepherds were mixed together as one, so that it would be difficult to distinguish who was laying down their lives for the flock, like any good shepherd, and who was fleeing in fear of the enemy.

Because, we have before us a Church that is suffering, attacked as it is, from within and without, and, yet, history also shows us something else, that try as we might we cannot destroy that Church, we cannot take it down, because, as Christ promised, if the Church has stood for this long, for over 2000 years, unless the end is near, the Church will still remain.

And, what’s more, is that it is in this environment, when the Church has always been stronger and more vibrant, because it is in this that we truly see that, in spite of ourselves, Christ is the one who is truly in charge, Christ is the head, the Good Shepherd who laid down His life for His people, for His Church.

And that, too, is why it is so necessary and so important for everyone, for all of us, to pray, to pray for vocations, that men and women will stand up, as they have for centuries, and answer the call that God has placed within their hearts, that they will allow themselves to not just listen but to follow that call, knowing that their witness is even more important now than it might have ever been, knowing that it takes courage to live a consecrated life, and though difficult, it is not impossible, for, as St. Paul says elsewhere: “With God all things are possible.”

And that, too, is why we need to pray, pray for our priests, pray for our shepherds, those who have been conformed to Christ, those who stand before you each day in Persona Christi, in the Person of Christ, acting as they do as an “Alter Christus,” Another Christ, because, as Fr. Corapi and many others remind any oppressive group, any enemy of the Church will attack the shepherd, because, by doing so, they know something we all know, that the sheep will scatter, and if we didn’t believe it before, we see how true it is now. And, unfortunately, there is something else we can never forget, that, sometimes, the greatest enemy of the shepherd, is, indeed, the shepherd himself.

Yet, that is why our prayers are not some empty words, they are the fundamental and the core of our strength, and while Christ, of course, is in the midst of the Church, while Christ is in the middle of the storm bearing the brunt of it all, it is our prayers that support the Church, it is our prayers that give it strength, hope and courage.

Today is not just another Sunday, today should be a reminder, a wake-up call to all of us of how important it is to pray, for those who are discerning and those who already serve, and of how crucial it is that we do so, because, whether we want to believe it or not, we are starting to see how the early Church existed, we are starting to see where the core, the strength and the endurance of their faith originated. The Church was strong, not because it had bad shepherds, not because it was comfortable, but because every single one of its faithful members, was ready, at any moment of any day, to witness to their faith, whether by word, by action or by literally laying down their very lives.

Because, in the end, this is the true test of our valor, this is what it means to be a Christian, for us to not be ashamed that we are Catholic, for me to wear my collar no matter where I go, not because we desire martyrdom, but because we have faith and confidence in one greater and more powerful than ourselves, the same who established the Church and the same who will keep it exactly where it is, until He is, ultimately, ready to return.

3rd Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

2010-04-17T23:53:00.006-04:00

It has been said that love, above and beyond everything else, is a verb, which means that what we profess, we live, that what we say, we also do.

It was the message that Christ brought, it was what He preached, what He spoke and what He, Himself did, loving us to the point of death, loving us in spite of pain, not because we deserved it, but because His love was and is greater than our hate, greater than our sin.

There is a beautiful story about a teacher who taught Christianity, but realized that his students were either not interested or just not getting it. So, after class, he asked his best student, Steve, physically strong and on the football team, how many push-ups he was able to do. He found out that Steve would do 200 push-ups every night. The teacher, however, asked if he would be able to do 300 in sets of ten. Steve was reluctant, at first, but assured the teacher that it could be done.

It was a Friday and it was the last class of the day and the teacher had brought in a nice big box of donuts. Steve was in the front of the room, sitting at a desk, as the teacher went to each desk in the row, asking if his students would like a donut.

The first girl was very eager to receive a donut, so the teacher gave her one, then looked at Steve and told him to do 10 push-ups so that she could have a donut. The teacher asked the next student, who was also eager to have a donut as well. Steve then did 10 more push-ups so that this student could have a donut. The next student was also asked, however, he said that he would only have a donut if he could do the push-ups himself; the teacher replied that only Steve could, so the student declined the donut. The teacher then asked Steve to do 10 more push-ups so that this student could have the donut he did not want.

Eventually, given that the teacher was doing this with every student, Steve was growing tired, but persevered each time. Most of the students, however, by this time, would decline the donut, for which Steve would still have to do 10 push-ups.

Students from the other classrooms started to look on, bringing the class number to 34 students and, just then, a transfer student made his way into the room, and all the students in the classroom shouted out for him not to come in. Steve, though exhausted, picked up his head and told the teacher to let him come in. It was 10 more push-ups for him to do, and though he was starting to struggle, he did them as well. The teacher finally got to the last student, and though she also declined the donut, she wanted to help him, but the teacher said that Steve was to do it alone.

He then finished his 350th push-up, his arms buckled and he fell to the floor, tired and exhausted. The teacher then said: “Christ had pleaded with the Father with the understanding that He had accomplished all that was required of Him…And like some of those in this room, many leave the gift on the desk, uneaten."

For, this is what Jesus did for us, this is what we mean when we say He truly loved us, and, each day we are given an opportunity to show that love, because each day He asks us, like He did St. Peter, if, we too, have that same love, if we too will live that gift that He has given us, to not leave it sitting there on a desk but letting it mean something in our lives. To not just say we love God but to show that love, to act on that love, to live that love.

That is why Jesus asked St. Peter three times whether he loved Him or not, because three times he denied Him, three times he said, three times he showed, that he did not love.

Yet, our response should be different, our response, each day, should always be an assurance of God’s love, so that, in everything we do, when we are give a choice to love Him or deny Him, we seek to love Him. So that when Jesus asks us, we seek to say “yes” to Him not with an empty “yes,” but with the same sincerity and humility as St. Peter: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” And, then, then we show it, we live it out, we accept our gift, we embrace our cross and we follow Him.

Divine Mercy Sunday, Cycle C

2010-04-10T16:18:00.004-04:00

In 2001, the late Pope John Paul II made the second Sunday of Easter forever more known as Divine Mercy Sunday. The reason was due to a young Polish nun, by the name of St. Faustina, who had countless visions of Jesus and from whom the prayer of the Chaplet of Divine Mercy arose. She was told to especially make every effort to pray this prayer at 3PM, designating this hour as the hour of mercy. The hour when Christ died, when He saved us, to invoke His Passion and to say: “For the sake of His sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world,” and to repeat those words often on the beads of the rosary, as if pleading to the Father for what Christ has done.

For, as St. Faustina relates in her famous diary, with Jesus speaking directly to her: “In this hour you can obtain everything for yourself and for others for the asking; it was the hour of grace for the whole world – mercy triumphed over justice.”

Yet, it was not enough for Jesus to ask her to have everyone stop at 3PM to pray this powerful Chaplet, He also desired for an entire day to be devoted solely to His Divine Mercy, today, Mercy Sunday, the Second Sunday of Easter when we experience, receive and are covered in a multitude of mercy, covered in all its forms, from the confession of our sins, to that same Chaplet, to the very source and summit, the very essence from which mercy flows, the Holy Eucharist.

Yet, there was even more than just that, Jesus also commanded St. Faustina to paint a picture of what she saw, to paint what Jesus looked like to her. A picture, however, that is packed with meaning, in fact, as Jesus Himself explains: “The two rays denote Blood and Water. The pale ray stands for the Water which makes souls righteous. (in other words, Baptism) The red ray stands for the Blood which is the life of souls. (in other words, the Eucharist) These two rays issued forth from the very depths of My tender mercy, He says, when My agonized Heart was opened by a lance on the Cross.”

That is why today, in a special way, we are called to celebrate, rejoice and glory in God’s limitless compassion, in His unfathomable kindness, in a word, in His infinite mercy. For, He calls us forth to experience again and again the same thing the Apostles experienced, the same thing St. Thomas experienced, faith, the ability to say with the utmost confidence, those same words that are found on the bottom of that image of the Divine Mercy: “Jesus, I trust in You.”

Knowing, indeed, that after experiencing such profound, such immeasurable mercy, on this day, on all days, we cannot but help to give of ourselves completely, to put our trust in Him alone, for we don’t have to see to believe, we only need to believe and know it is true.

For, that is what St. Faustina teaches us, that is what St. Thomas teaches us, that is what this day teaches us, that mercy is not an intangible, unseen thing, but, something very tangible indeed, for, it is the very hand of God holding us, His very love sustaining us, and an ocean that not only envelops us, but covers a multitude of sin.

Therefore, let us pray with so many others that beautiful opening prayer of the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, which I leave you with today:
“You expired, Jesus, but the source of life gushed forth for souls, and the ocean of mercy opened up for the whole world. O Fount of Life, unfathomable Divine Mercy, envelop the whole world and empty Yourself out upon us.

O Blood and Water, which gushed forth from the Heart of Jesus as a fountain of Mercy for us, I trust in You!”

Easter Sunday, Cycle C

2010-04-03T17:25:00.003-04:00

Today, is Easter Sunday, the Sunday of all Sundays, the culmination of what we have done these past couple of days, these past couple of centuries, for today we celebrate a great victory, the very triumph of life over death and the very victory of hope, our hope and the hope of the entire Church. In fact, today, is why, how, and the very reason the Church exists even in this day and age, because, ultimately, we are a people of the Resurrection, we are, in the words of St. Augustine, an “Easter people,” with one word, one beautiful word, one powerful word, that is our joy, our exaltation and our song, the word: “Alleluia!”

And, because we have fasted from that word for 40 days, because we have been deprived of that song, that most ancient form of praise to our God, we use it in almost everything we say and everything we do, from here on out, because, the pinnacle of our faith can be expressed in that one word alone, becoming the very essence, the overflowing joy that bursts forth from our hearts to our lips so that the defining word mixed with all others is always and everywhere an ecstatic: “Alleluia!”

Yet, this word packed, as it is, with meaning, will lose all significance, all power, and all triumph if it does not recognize what it truly celebrates, if it finds itself empty, not as the tomb was, but as those who were expecting to find Jesus were.

Because in seeking Jesus the question went from “where is He,” to “Why do you seek the living one among the dead?” In other words, to believe the Resurrection is to live the Resurrection, is to know, without a shadow of a doubt that because He is not there, we should not be there either, that, by our Baptism, by the confession of our sins, by the reception of the Holy Eucharist, with Him, in Him and through Him, we are made a new creation, constantly given a new life, a transformed life, flowing with grace upon grace, from the darkness of the Cross to the bright morn of our salvation.

So, that when we say “He is Risen!” It is more than just another pious thing to say, it is the very essence of what we long for, it is the very source of our strength and our ability to stand up without fear, without forcing ourselves to believe in nonsense, as it says in our Gospel, because it is the very core, the very foundation of our faith. For, as St. (Padre) Pio once put it: “It is not enough for us to rise again in imitation of Christ, if, in imitating him, we do not appear as arisen, changed and renewed in spirit.”

For, this is not just one day among Sundays, it is the Sunday, the greatest and most important Sunday in our lives, because it is an opportunity to rise, to become dead to sin and to become fully alive to God, to look at this day as a brand new day, as a Son that will never set, as an eternal morning that will never cease.

That is what we mean when we say “Alleluia!” that is why we cannot stop saying that word, that is why our entire hope, our entire faith rests on this Resurrection Sunday, on this, the day when Christ conquered not just sin but the very wage of sin, death itself.
Therefore, there is then no reason to seek the living among the dead, for truly He is not here, truly He is risen! Alleulia! Alleulia!

Good Friday (The Seven Last Words)

2010-04-02T10:58:00.004-04:00

When someone is dying, more often than not, they are careful, cautious and deliberate with their final words here on earth. Yet, in the case of Jesus, each word was even more important because each time He spoke He multiplied His pain, each word He uttered became more difficult than the one before it, because He could barely breathe, so that each breath He took was a feat, and, given His pain, each word He spoke deliberate, necessary and important.

In fact, that is why Jesus’ dying words have been so thoroughly scrutinized, debated and, even sometimes, misinterpreted, because in each of those weighted words, He leaves us an instruction, a request and a powerful testimony of what it means to imitate Him. Given this, there is an ancient tradition of meditating and reflecting on Jesus’ final words, His Seven Last Words.

The night before Jesus is arrested, He is in the Garden, and there something happens that, physically, many doctors have said is a distinct possibility, His sweat turned into blood. It is a rare occurrence, to be sure, but it is believed that it only happens when someone is suffering from extreme anguish and stress, a physical reaction to intense psychological and emotional agony. So that, even before the physical pain and torment, He has already experienced something that alone could be seen as great suffering.

Yet, because of this occurrence, it is said, that the skin becomes tender, so that even touching the skin is excruciating. This means that the scourging was even more painful than it might have been, because each lash of the whip upon His skin was multiplied.

So, that receiving thousands of lashes, being crowned with thorns and dragging a cross was not just grueling but torturous beyond the scope of any pain we could possibly imagine or fathom. This was only made much worse when they lay Him on the Cross, stretch out His arms, and one by one nail His hands and His feet, and, His response was to plead mercy, not mercy from His accusers or executioners, but mercy from His Father for them: “Father,” He says, “forgive them, for they know what they do.”

Then mounted on a cross, next to two criminals, condemned of the same crimes, one asks for forgiveness, the other curses Him with the crowd. The man who asks for mercy, knows what he has done, knows that he deserves his punishment, and knows that Jesus does not deserve His. Next to Him hangs a king, a mocked king, but a king that is not of this world. So, this thief makes a simple request: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And, Jesus’ reply is just as simple: “Amen. I say to you, this day, you will be with me in paradise.”

Jesus, hanging on the cross, looks down to see both His mother and His beloved disciple, St. John, two people whom He cared deeply about in this world, yet, what He says to both seems almost impersonal and generic, calling His mother, “woman,” and His disciple “son.” Yet, these are important words otherwise He would not have spoken them, and, indeed, they are important words, because it is here, at the very foot of the Cross, where Mary becomes our mother, because those generic words are not generic at all, but, rather, universal, so that “woman” reminds us of Eve, the mother of all living, the one who failed, whereas, Mary, the New Eve, becomes the new mother of all living. This, too, is why St. John is referred to as son, because he represents all of us. So, that Jesus’ greatest gift before He dies is His greatest love, His mother: “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, 'Behold, your mother!”

The anguish of the cross is starting to take its toll, physically Jesus is clinging to life, internally, in His humanness, He is experiencing a great mystery, abandonment, desolation and emptiness. Yet, as the late Pope John Paul II once reminded: “If Jesus felt abandoned by the Father, he knew however that that was not really so… But in the sphere bordering on the senses, he says…Jesus' human soul was reduced to a wasteland.” So, then, from the greatest depths of His humanity, from its very core, He could not help but cry out with the Psalmist: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Jesus has been hanging on the cross for a while now, the sun beating down on Him, His wounds still bleeding, if crucifixion did not kill you by asphyxiation, you died by dehydration, so, indeed, He was thirsty. But, His thirst goes far beyond a physical thirst, His thirst was for something much more, in fact, it was the reason He was on the cross in the first place, because His thirst was for our redemption, His thirst was for our conversion, the same thirst that He demanded of the Samaritan woman, so that everyone who drinks of His life giving water will never thirst again. “Aware that everything was now finished, St. John says, in order that the scripture might be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I thirst.””

Jesus’ death draws near, He knows it, He expects it, it is only a matter of time. With the little breath that He has left, He says three powerful words: Words of triumph over evil, words of completion, words that express that what He has come for and to do has finally been fulfilled that His hour has, at last, come: “It is finished.”

In this confidence, with His final breath, He shouts out 8 agonizing words, words of abandonment and words of resignation, so that bowing His head He could leave us our final lesson, a lesson in dying, dying not just physically but spiritually, dying to our very selves: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

Seven words that have transformed the world, converted thousands, moved countless men and women to tears, the seven last and dying words of Christ, who gave His life for our love and for our salvation, so that His cross was not emptied of meaning, but, in the end, the doorway to Heaven and the overflowing fountain of our grace.

Passion (Palm) Sunday, Cycle C

2010-03-27T23:39:00.002-04:00

We have before us today, what one man did for our salvation, what God did so that we could be saved. And, it is powerful, it is heart-wrenching, and, sometimes, it is difficult to hear, but this is what happened, this is what we did, this is what all of us did, and it is why we remember this week, because, today, we see better than any other day the true depth of Christ’s mercy, the unfathomable forgiveness of our sins, and the power of His very blood, His very life to cover them all.

In fact, it is said, that St. Elizabeth, Queen of Hungary, with St. Matilda and St. Bridget wanted to know more about the Passion of Jesus Christ and so they offered many fervent and special prayers to this effect.

As a result, it is believed Jesus appeared to them and told them the following: “Be it known that the number of armed soldiers were 150; those who trailed me while I was bound were 23. The number of executioners of justice were 83; the blows received on my head were 150; those on my stomach, 108; kicks on my shoulders, 80.

I was led, bound with cords by the hair, 24 times; spits in the face were 180; I was beaten on the body 6666 times; beaten on the head, 110 times. I was roughly pushed, and at 12 o'clock was lifted up by the hair; pricked with thorns and pulled by the beard 23 times; received 20 wounds on the head…pricks of thorns in the head, 110; mortal thorns in the forehead, 3.

I was afterwards flogged and dressed as a mocked king; wounds in the body, 1000. The soldiers who led me to the Calvary were 608; those who watched me were 3, and those who mocked me were 1008; the drops of blood which I lost were 28,430.

That is why this week, this Holy Week, in a very real way, we enter into the very heart of these mysteries, the very essence of the Passion and Cross, the very essence of what happens upon that altar, every single day, and the identity of what we believe, why we believe it and why, even in the midst of such tremendous pain, sorrow and death, we are still able to find hope.

Because, though Christ endured extraordinary suffering, more than any one of us could possibly imagine, and though each wound, each gash, each bruise, was our sins, it was not in vain, because the Gospel does not end where we stopped today, it does not end on the Cross, it does not end in the tomb, in fact, there really was no end, only the introduction of something new and that which we will steadily move towards in the week ahead, when everything will culminate on Easter Sunday, marking, indeed, not an end, but a beginning, the beginning of something new, new hope and new life, which finds its ultimate fulfillment in the Resurrection.

5th Sunday in Lent, Cycle C

2010-03-20T23:04:00.002-04:00

If you have ever been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing, no matter what it was, sinful or not, then you know exactly how this woman in our Gospel felt today. She is brought before Jesus, accused of breaking the sixth commandment, humiliated, ashamed and remorseful and expecting a death sentence for her actions.

Yet, the interesting thing about this exchange is that she is not the only one who is guilty, in fact, the Pharisees and Scribes are just as guilty as her, because it is not Jesus to whom they should be taking this woman, but, rather the proper authorities who would have judged her, indeed, worthy of death. They were taking her to Jesus so that they could accuse Him and condemn Him, so that they could betray Him to the Romans, yet, in the end, it backfired.

This is why Jesus bends down and writes something in the sand, while no one knows exactly what it was, many seem to believe it was their sins, which is why Jesus then says to them: “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” This, too, is why instead of throwing that first stone, the Pharisees and Scribes dropped those stones, one by one and left her alone, condemning neither her nor Jesus.

So that when He looked up after the second time, He asked her: “Has no one condemned you?” She replied, “No one, sir.” Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you.”

It was then not just the woman who experienced mercy but her accusers as well, because, truth be told, He could have condemned them all, but, instead He traced their sins in the sand, knowing that what was written would, ultimately, be removed by the winds of forgiveness, just as what is marked upon our conscience is taken away by those very powerful words of absolution.

Yet, that was not the end, because though their sins were now forgiven, though no one has been condemned, attached to it, is an important command: “Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”

In other words, though the sin has been removed, inherent within that plea for mercy is the promise that the same sin will no longer be committed, that just as she leaves when we, ourselves, leave the confessional, there will be an effort, a striving to avoid those sins that that are confessed, and not just those sins that are confessed, but to avoid all types of sin, even what we call the near occasions of sin, that is, those things that also might lead us in that direction.

Because, though mercy, though forgiveness is given freely, it cost Christ the shedding of His blood, the pain of His Passion and the nails in His hands and in His feet. While, it is true, that we may not want to think about it, we contribute to those pains just as much as anyone else, because that is what it means when we say Christ suffered for us, Christ died for us, because though it was for all of us, individually, we are all responsible for what happened, we are contributors to the crucifixion.

So, when Jesus tells this woman and tells us to sin no more, He is actually saying for us to not cause Him anymore pain, for us to be merciful to Him.

That is why we should echo those beautiful words of St. Paul in our second reading today, saying with confidence: “I continue my pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God’s upward calling, in Christ Jesus.” Because, the greatest goal towards holiness is to root out sin, no matter what it is, to be called forth towards Heaven and to live, always and everywhere, with, in and through Jesus Christ our Lord.