The Eucharist and the Rebuilding of Culture

(Wednesday of the of the 29th Week in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on 21 October, 2009 at the Chapel of The American College of the Immaculate Conception in Louvain, Belgium; See Luke 12:39-48)

In his Apostolic Exhortation, Sacramentum Caritatis (The Sacrament of Charity), our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, writes about the “intrinsic relationship” of three things regarding our experience of God’s tremendous love for us in the Eucharist and our response to so great a Gift.

He begins by explaining the “intrinsic relationship between the eucharistic celebration and eucharistic adoration” (Sacramentum Caritatis, #66). Against what he refers to as a “false dichotomy” which would set those two expressions of our Eucharistic encounter with God at odds with each other, Pope Benedict XVI describes how adoration of the Blessed Sacrament in fact deepens and intensifies our reception of Christ in the holy sacrifice of the Mass.

Receiving Christ at Mass and adoration of the Blessed Sacrament outside of Mass are never in competition with each other; their “intrinsic relationship” enables us to grow and mature in our appreciation for and reception of the Sacrament of Charity. We must adore so great a Gift, our Holy Father insists, and quoting St. Augustine he reminds us that “No one eats that flesh without first adoring it; we should sin were we not to adore it.”

But the mystery of the Eucharist is not only an event to be celebrated and a Person to be adored; it is also an experience which takes hold of the Christian soul and moves us to embody Christ in a real and living way. We come together and share in that recognition of the One who gave everything—His body and His blood—for us, and we cannot help but to be transformed by that sacrifice. We, too, desire to give freely of ourselves in service and in sacrifice for others.

“Here,” says Pope Benedict XVI “the intrinsically eucharistic nature of Christian life begins to take shape” (Sacramentum Caritatis, #71). It is a way of life neither separate from nor merely supplemental to the adoration and reception of the Blessed Sacrament of the altar; it is “intrinsic” to it and an essential expression of the great self-offering of Jesus Christ for the salvation of the world.

The intrinsic relationship between the Mass and adoration, as well as the lived Eucharistic spirituality which flows from it, is able to build up our Christina lives, our community and, more than that, to re-build an entire culture which finds its source, inspiration and center in the God who offers everything in a total self-gift of mercy, forgiveness and love: Sacramentum Caritatis.

Our late Holy Father, Pope John Paul the Great, spoke eloquently about the Eucharistic liturgy and Eucharistic spirituality which became the very foundation and inspiration for so many of the aspects of culture we see today in architecture, sculpture, sacred music and sacred art (Ecclesia de Eucharistia, #49). It is not possible to fully understand a people or a culture without reference to these particular expressions of the Eucharistic experience which inspired them. In fact, it is impossible for a culture founded on the Christian mystery to understand itself and all that God is calling it to, in this world and in the next, without God and the self-offering of Jesus Christ at the center.

Is not this the very problem we have come to recognize right here in Europe and in other parts of the world? We are living in the midst of a culture that no longer fully understands itself and—in many fundamental ways—has lost its moral compass. The creation of laws against human life—laws for abortion, euthanasia, embryonic stem-cell research—are clear indications that the moral compass on which this culture was founded no longer points true north, no longer points, on these essential aspects of human life, to the one, true God.

What is the solution? How do we rebuild a world that seems to be breaking apart at so many fundamental levels? I would suggest that we are called to rebuild the culture and to rebuild relationships—with God and with each other—from the same Eucharistic foundation with which it began. We start here, at this altar, and with this God “who is able to accomplish far more than all we ask or imagine” (Ephesians 2:20).

John Paul the Great spoke of “the great responsibility which belongs to priests in particular for the celebration of the Eucharist. It is their responsibility to preside at the Eucharist in persona Christi and to provide a witness to and a service of communion not only for the community directly taking part in the celebration, but also for the universal Church, which is a part of every Eucharist.”
—Ecclesia de Eucharistia, #52

That responsibility confronts us directly in our Gospel this morning. Here in this seminary, which is founded for the sake of forming men for the priesthood of Jesus Christ, we do well to listen with our hearts and minds wide open as Christ turns to St. Peter and asks that hauntingly beautiful and powerful question:

Who, then, is the faithful and prudent steward whom the master will put in charge of his servants to distribute the food allowance at the proper time?

—Luke 12: 42

Who are those servants, called by God to distribute “the food allowance,” to offer to the people the Bread of Angels and the food of eternal life?

Who are the ones called by God to a particular responsibility of rebuilding the culture we live in not by our own efforts alone but by the gracious sacrifice and self-offering of Jesus Christ in the Holy Sacrament of the Altar?

The priest is called to answer so remarkable a call, and to take on so great—and so humbling— a responsibility.

Blessed is that servant whom his master on arrival finds doing so.
—Luke 12: 42

Feast of St. Teresa of Avila

St. Teresa of Avila (1515-1582)

1827 painting by François Gerard

St. Teresa of Avila, Doctor of the Church, on prayer:

"Indeed a great mercy does He bestow on anyone to whom He gives the grace and courage to resolve to strive for this good with every ounce of energy. For God does not deny Himself to anyone who perseveres. Little by little He will measure out the courage sufficient to attain this victory. I say “courage” because there are so many things the devil puts in the minds of beginners to prevent them in fact from starting out on this path. For he knows the damage that will be done to him in losing not only that one soul but many others. If beginners with the assistance of God struggle to reach the summit of perfection, I believe they will never go to heaven alone; they will always lead many people along after them."

—The Book of Her Life, Ch. 11, #4

St. Teresa of Avila,

pray for us.

Not merely us, but Christ in us

Michelangelo's Pieta, St. Peter's Basilica in Rome

(26th Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on 27 September, 2009 at the Chapel of The American College of the Immaculate Conception in Louvain, Belgium; See Numbers 11:25-29 and Mark 9:38-48)

One of the most beautiful and certainly well known works of Christian art is Michelangelo’s Pieta located in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. What makes that masterpiece of sculpture remarkable is that Michelangelo completed it while he was still a young man in his twenties.

He was present on the day they unveiled that exquisite statue and certainly the people there would have heard of Michelangelo, but it is unlikely that they would have recognized his face. Unbeknownst to so many of them he was mingling among the crowd when he heard two men speaking about the Pieta. One of them was asking who made it. Upon hearing the reply, that Michelangelo was believed to be the artist, the person expressed his doubt that the young Florentine could have accomplished something that grand. Perhaps, he suggested instead, it was done by Solari (Cristofero Solari was a contemporary of Michelangelo and an extremely gifted artist in his own right).

Upon hearing this conversation Michelangelo was so offended, his pride so wounded, that he later took a chisel and hammer and stenciled into the sash which Our Lady was wearing the following words: Michelangelo Bunarroti the Florentine Made This.

Obviously you cannot take back something like that. It is said that he was so ashamed at having acted that way, out of pride and self importance, that he vowed never to sign another work of art again.

Can you imagine how different that is from the culture we live in today? People do not accomplish anything at all without making sure their name is all over it (take this blog, for instance!). If you go to the bookstore, look at the bestsellers and the most gifted writers of our time. What you will discover are hundreds of books with the title on the front cover, maybe in small letters at the top or bottom of that book; then you will find the author’s name, usually in the middle, in enormous block letters and bold print!

Please do not misunderstand me; we should be recognized for the work we do. There is nothing wrong with putting our name on the works we accomplish or being recognized as the ones who do something beautiful. It is just that for the Christian artist that cannot be the final goal. The main purpose of the Christian artist is to put the other in touch with the sacred.

One of the things I find striking about the writing of icons—which Fr. Paul Czerwonka teaches so well here at the American College—is how the icon is never signed by the artist upon its completion. The reason, again, is because the role of the iconographer is not to put another person in touch with the artist himself or herself, but with the living God. Icons are a window to heaven and the person who prays before one of these sacred images should be able to communicate with God; they should be placed in a deeper communion with the saints; they should be able to draw closer to Our Lady and to her Son, Jesus Christ.

But that is not only the goal of Christian art and iconography. It is, in fact, the goal of the Christian life. We are all called to surrender our lives in such a way that we can be an avenue through which other people can “travel” in order to draw closer to God; an avenue through which God can move and operate in such a way that He can draw closer to the people around us. His dream for each of us is that we fully cooperate in that endeavor. We have to be willing to see more than just our own individual lives but to truly be open to the way God is working and active everywhere in the world around us. The focus has to move away from us and back to God. St. Paul says it best:

I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me.
—Galatians 2:20
In other words, it is no longer about Paul and his gifts and abilities, his selfish individual projects, however noble they may be. It is about Jesus Christ and the way He is living in St. Paul. We surrender ourselves in such a way that God is living and moving in us and through us. Paradoxically, this does not inhibit our freedom in the least. We become more free and more ourselves as we live in the very way God created us…but it doesn’t come easy!

That is the struggle we find in the First Reading and in the Gospel this weekend. In that compelling story from the Book of Numbers we hear of God’s plan to take “some of the spirit that was on Moses,” and give it to the seventy elders of Israel. Obviously the burden of leadership was far too much for any one man to accomplish. God is bestowing a blessing upon Moses by granting him other persons will help him carry the load.

Yet two of the elders were not present with Moses when this spirit was given; apparently they were out to lunch that day. Nonetheless they received it anyway. Suddenly it is Joshua, who has attended Moses all his life, who becomes offended:

“Moses, my Lord, stop them.”
—Numbers 11:28

Moses, no doubt with great love, assures Joshua that there is no offense here. “Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets,” he says. “Would that the Lord might bestow his spirit on them all!” Moses knows that the blessings of God and the graces God pours out on His people cannot possibly take away from the good things He is already doing in us. For another person to be blessed by God in no way diminishes me. Moses understood that clearly. Do we?

We find that same struggle in the Gospel this weekend. Christ has chosen twelve Apostles to follow Him and to do a particular work in the Church. They will be the foundation on which He will build His Church. He has already sent them out to do miraculous things and they have shared in the very power and authority which He has exercised in their midst.

Suddenly they discover that another person, not from their own group, is also accomplishing great things in the name of Jesus. St. John, again with the same misplaced love which we saw in Joshua, turns to Christ and says:

“Teacher, we saw someone driving out demons in your name, and we tried to prevent him because he does not follow us.”
—Mark 9:38
Christ has to correct him: “Do not prevent him.” This was a work accomplished in the name of Jesus; albeit not in the manner St. John had expected and not within the parameters that he was accustomed to. Jesus draws him away from his own individual focus and tries to show him the broader scope of what God is doing: “Whoever is not against us is for us” (Mark 9:40).

This is such an important lesson for the Church, not just in St. John’s time but perhaps even more so in our own. Competition, rivalry, jealousy; these are the very things that diminish, frustrate and suppress the work of God in the Church. It is something that happens in seminaries, in Catholic universities, in parishes and in dioceses. Even the domestic Church, the family, is affected by the jealousies, rivalries and competitive spirit that are not from Christ.

We become so wrapped up in our own little world, our own projects, that we fail to recognize or even begin to inhibit the way God is working in the people around us. How very much we need to learn the lesson which Joshua and St. John were taught in our readings this weekend!

St. Paul, again, tells us distinctly that we have nothing to lose and everything to gain when another member of the Body of Christ is blessed by God. He says that if any one of the members of the body are honored, then all of the members of the body rejoice with it (see 1 Corinthians 12:26).

I would suggest this week that we choose three people in our lives, any three people who are fellow members of the body of Christ, and ask God for the wisdom to recognize the beautiful work He is accomplishing in them; ask God to show you the masterpiece, the icon He is writing in their daily lives. Seek to be a part of that great work by your encouragement, your charity, and especially by your prayers for those three people. This week let us ask to see less of our own individual lives and more of what God is accomplishing on a much larger scale, and may we all be able to say, with St. Paul:

It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me; and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
—Galatians 2:20

Proofs for God in the Year for Priests

Christ the Great High Priest

Icon writen by Iconographer Marek Czarnecki of Seraphic Restorations in Meriden, Connecticut.

(23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on 6 September, 2009 at the Chapel of The American College of the Immaculate Conception in Louvain, Belgium; See Mark 7:31-37)

I am sure you are at least somewhat familiar with the common arguments or proofs for the existence of God. For instance, there is the argument from the order or structure of the universe. We come to see that the sun rises each day and sets every evening; the planets do not crash into each other; there is unity and order, and so there must be one who created that order and maintains it: God.

Then there is the argument from beauty. We look at a breathtaking sunset in the spring or gaze at the ocean on a cool summer afternoon; the leaves change into dazzling colors in the fall. There must be someone who created all that, someone who is even more beautiful than creation itself, and that someone is God.

Yet there is a situation found in the Gospel this weekend that could be considered as an argument against the existence of God! How is that for disturbing? It is the deaf man with a speech impediment.

“Well,” you might be thinking, “that does not sound like a very convincing argument to me!” But do not be too hasty. That deaf man with a speech impediment has experienced what the philosophers and theologians of antiquity define as evil. The philosophical and theological definition of evil is "privation"; it is a lack of a proper good where a good ought to be.

We ought to be able to hear sounds in the world around us. We ought to be able to listen to a majestic symphony or hear the sound of our own mother’s voice calling our name. We ought to be able to communicate and speak with the people in our lives we love most. All of those things have been denied that deaf man with the speech impediment.

I assure you there is no more common or convincing argument used down through the ages to deny the existence of God than the experience of evil. The atheist is seldom the one who has sat down and read the Scriptures and the Summa Theologica; It is not often the one who has studied theology extensively and then come to the sad conclusion that the idea of God is simply untenable.

It is the man or woman who has looked at the Holocaust in the face and experienced a living hell here on earth that will sometimes say, “I cannot believe that God exists.” It is often the person who has encountered a tragic or sudden loss or the one whose life seems to be falling apart without any rhyme or reason; that is the one who will say, “I refuse to believe in a God who has allowed this to happen.”

Even as people of faith we are often at a loss for words when confronted with an argument like that. But St. Thomas Aquinas, in his Summa contra Gentiles, uses that same line of reasoning to argue for the existence of God. He says, rather shockingly: Quia malum est, Deus est. Because evil exists, God exists.

If evil is a privation or lack of the good, then it can only exist in relation to the order of good; there would be no order of good if not for the supreme good who is God (see Summa contra Gentiles, III, 71).

But more importantly, we could not live in this world another day if there were no possibility of God’s existence. We could never go on as a people of hope if, when all is said and done, this world is all that there is; if there is not a final recompense for something as atrocious as the holocaust. There must be a God who will respond to the violence, racism and discrimination that occurs in the world we live in. There must be one who will set things straight and bring about justice after all the injustice that has taken place from the beginning of time. Quia malum est, Deus est.

As people of faith we believe that even now God is beginning to do just that. He is—even now—beginning to restore the order, unity and beauty to the world that we live in. We see that clearly in the Gospel this weekend. Jesus Christ meets evil—that privation of the good—head on…and heals it. Yet, He does so in a rather peculiar way.

Christ not only speaks the words of healing to this person but He also touches him. We are body and soul, spiritual and physical, and thus Christ heals this man physically and spiritually at the point of his greatest need. He not only speaks to the depths of that man’s soul: “Ephphatha!” that is, “Be opened!” (Mark 7:34). He also sticks His finger in the man’s ear and spits on his tongue. Have you ever considered how strange that is?! Jesus Christ is literally reconnecting this man—physically and spiritually—to the source of healing, power, and life that is Himself! He reconnects that man and restores all that he had lost, opening up the possibility for an entire spectrum of experiences and relationships, both human and divine.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church says that Christ, who did that, and consistently reaches out and touches those who are broken and the hurting in the Gospels, continues to touch us in the sacraments in order to heal us (see CCC, #1504). Thanks be to God for the Church that Christ founded! Thanks be to God for the Sacraments by which Christ continues to reach out and touch this world so effected by evil and so much in need of healing and wholeness! Quia malum est, Deus est!

But I would borrow from that argument of St. Thomas Aquinas just a bit this weekend, and say not only “Because evil exists, God exists.” Following from that I would also say, “Quia malum est, sacerdos est!” Because evil exists, the priest exists!

If God is to continue to reach out to this broken world through the Sacraments of the Church, then there must be some who are called by God to surrender their bodies and their souls in love so that God may say through them:

This is my body given up for you…this is the cup of my blood. Take it and receive it. Be reconnected to the source of life and the source of healing that is Myself.

There must be some, called by God, who will surrender their bodies and their souls in love so that God may say through them, to the broken and those filled with sorrow for their sins:

I absolve you from your sins.

There must be some, called by God, who will receive a small child and pour water over that child’s head—or receive an adult, converted inwardly by faith and the Holy Spirit—and say “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

Because there is such a lack of the good in so many places of society and life and because there is such a need and so many hunger and thirst for the living God, there must be at least some who will make Him sacramentaly present in this world. That is why Pope Benedict XVI has asked us all to focus on this year as the Year for Priests. Because evil exists, God must exist, and so, too must the priest.

There are 16 men here at the American College in Leuven preparing for priesthood. In this Year for Priests I plead with you to pray for them, intercede to God for them. Pray that they will be as connected to Christ as the man who was healed in the Gospel, that they will be physically and spiritually touched by Christ in the Sacraments of the Church and opened up for all that He wills to do in their lives this year. Pray for those of us entrusted with their formation, for their professors and all who will be a part of their preparation for Holy Orders. There is indeed a lack of the good in the world we live in, and these men have said, “Yes,” to God because they have understood that He wants to use them to do something about it.

Bread of Life Discourse V: Love, Marriage and the Eucharist

Icon of Christ, the Bridegroom

Icon written by Rev. Paul G. Czerwonka. © 2007. All rights reserved. Fr. Paul is the Director of Aesthetical and Spiritual Formation at the American College of Louvain, Belgium. He is a priest of the Diocese of La Crosse and currently teaches iconography and assists in the formation of men for the priesthood. Please continue to pray for priests and for vocations to the priesthood.

(21st Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on 23 August, 2009 at the Chapel of The American College of the Immaculate Conception in Louvain, Belgium; See Joshua 24:1-18, Ephesians 5:21-32 and John 6:60-69)

If you are reading this right now and you are a married person then you have certainly been on one before. If you are a priest or religious, you may have been on one previous to entering the seminary or religious life. If you are a single person, then you may be going on one of these even now. What I am talking about, of course, are first dates.

First dates can be quite unpredictable; spending an evening out with a person you may not even know all that well. It can be disastrous…or beautiful…or it could even be something which begins to forge a relationship between two persons that will last a lifetime.

I would like to share a story with you (a true story) about a couple who experienced all three of those on the night of their first date! It was disastrous, beautiful and formed the beginning of a bond that has lasted even now and, please God, will endure throughout their entire lives.

Without getting into all the details, it was a night that began at a dinner where she felt slightly sick but the evening soon went from bad to worse. In the end he had to bring her to the emergency room and then finally dropped her off back home so that she could be taken care of by her family.

Basically there were two thoughts running through his mind at the end of that night. The first was: What a disaster! That was not at all what I expected this date to be like.

The second thought was actually not a thought at all; it was a prayer. He thought: In spite of how terrible things went tonight, I think I want to spend the rest of my life with this person, and he prayed, God, if this woman is my wife someday, I will take care of her for the rest of my life.

I know, it sounds like something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel, but it is true! And I share it with you because that crisis situation and moment of decision is something like what we find in the first reading and in the Gospel this weekend.

In our Old Testament reading Joshua is addressing the people of Israel who are just about to begin a new life in the Promised Land. They have been set free from slavery in Egypt and brought through the desert after all kinds of trials and difficulties. Nothing turned out quite the way they had expected. Yet even in the midst of their own failures God has remained so very faithful.

Joshua, understanding quite well that this is the moment of great consequence for the people, knowing them all too well and realizing they are living in a land of many gods, compels them to make a choice. The time has come to make a decision. He says:

If it does not please you to serve the Lord, decide today whom you will serve, the gods your fathers served beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose country you are now dwelling. As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.
—Joshua 24:15

Following his example the people also give their assent and choose to follow the God who has cared so very well for them.

In the Gospel there is a similar decision being made. Christ has revealed Himself as the Bread of Life, the Messiah that has come to offer His own body and blood for the salvation of the world. He has made it clear that there is nothing less than eternal life at stake here. All who eat His flesh and drink His blood will have life within them, and He will raise them up on the last day.

Sadly, remarkably, the majority of them are not willing to receive Him or even to consider the meaning of these words that He is speaking! They continue to murmur against Him and complain, “This saying is hard; who can accept it?” (John 6:60). Many of His own disciples, we are told—many—walked away from Him right then and there.

Jesus Christ, recognizing that this is a crisis moment and the moment of decision, turns directly to the Twelve Apostles and asks them a question upon which depends the future of the nascent Church: “Do you also want to leave?” (John 6:67).

It is Peter who answers for them all: “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God” (John 6:69).

These powerful and poignant moments of decision which we find in our readings for this weekend, as compelling as they are in their own right, have much more in common with that story I mentioned earlier than the fact that they are crisis situations. In both the Old Testament account from the Book of Joshua and in St. John’s Gospel what is being described is a relationship which is spousal; it is nuptial.

All throughout the Old Testament, and especially in the Prophets—Isaiah, Jeremiah, Hosea—God is described as the faithful spouse who has chosen Israel for His Bride. He loves Her deeply and adorns her in royalty (Isaiah 62:3), He seeks Her out and draws Her to Himself, loving Her with an everlasting love (Jeremiah 31:3), and when She is unfaithful He lures Her into the desert and speaks tenderly to Her (Hosea 2:14) because He desperately wants Her back! That is the depth of the relationship which Joshua is leading them to in the first reading this weekend.

In the New Testament this spousal love becomes even more vivid, visual and even physical, in the person Jesus Christ. He is the Bridegroom of His Bride, the Church. He will give everything—His own body and blood, broken and shed for us on the cross—to bring us home to eternal life in God.

That is what Christ is trying to communicate to His disciples in St. John’s Gospel all throughout the Bread of Life Discourse. That offering of His body and blood on the cross is the very culmination of the Gospel we have been listening to for the last five weeks. It is at the heart of the mystery of the Eucharist…and it is also at the very heart of the mystery of marriage.

In our second reading this weekend, from St. Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians, the Apostle goes through great lengths to describe for us what marriage consists of. He talks about the mutual submission of the spouses: "Be subordinate to one another out of reverence for Christ" (Ephesians 5:21). Married couples make an offering of themselves to one another out of love and out of devotion to God, and that self-offering includes no less than everything. St. Paul goes on to describe the marriage covenant even in physical terms. Quoting Genesis, he describes how a man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife and the two become one flesh. But then he concludes by saying something that is simply astounding: “This is a great mystery, but I speak in reference to Christ and the church” (Ephesians 5:32).

The self-giving love of husband and wife and their one-flesh union here on this earth is actually, in addition to being the expression of their love for each other, an image for something else. Marriage is an image for Jesus Christ’s own self-offering, His own gift of His body and blood for us on the cross.

But to make sure that we would never miss that spousal connection and the intimate bond we share with Him as His Bride and the people for whom He has made that self-offering, He has chosen to make it a sacrament: the Eucharist.

When we celebrate the Eucharist each week, we listen to His words: “This is my body, which will be given up for you…take it and eat it; this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant…take it and drink from it.” What we are celebrating is the God who offered Himself as our faithful Spouse in order to unite Himself to us forever.

We receive His body and blood and become one flesh with Him. Our spousal covenant with Him, that “new and eternal covenant,” is renewed each time we share in this Most Blessed Sacrament. Strengthened in that Gift and nourished by Christ, we have all the courage and power we need to face any of the difficult decisions and circumstances of life.

This week, when we face those moments of decision or times of crisis, may we echo the words of Joshua: “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15) and say with confidence, along with St. Peter, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God” (John 6:69).

Bread of Life Discourse IV: It's Personal

Supper at Emmaus by Caravaggio
from the Pinacoteca di Brera, Milan

(20th Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; See John 6:51-58)

Our first reading for this weekend is a beautiful and poetic excerpt from the Book of Proverbs which speaks rather eloquently to us about wisdom. The intriguing figure of Lady Wisdom is the very personification of the way of life God calls us to. Quite literally, Lady Wisdom beckons us:

Let whoever is simple turn in here…Come, eat of my food and drink of the wine I have mixed!
—Proverbs 9:5

This invitation to share a meal with Lady Wisdom reveals to us that the ways of God and the path He wishes us to follow are not merely informational. The wisdom of God is, instead, relational. It is personal. God does not give us an instruction manual or a series of checkpoints to guide us through life. He invites us into a personal relationship in which we grow in virtue, knowledge and holiness because the God who calls us is Himself filled with all of these things, and more.

You may have seen the movie The Matrix. The characters in that science fiction film are connected to a massive computer program—the matrix—that allows them to exist not only in this world but also in a parallel, virtual world in which almost anything is possible. When they want to learn a new skill in the matrix, a computer file is uploaded to their memory and they suddenly possess that skill. One of the main characters, Trinity, finds herself in danger and the only means of escape is a helicopter which she has no idea how to fly! In an instant she is able to upload the software and takes off into the air like a woman who has been flying helicopters all of her life.

That is not the way God instructs us in wisdom! We do not grow in understanding or in knowledge of the ways of God like Trinity, in a single moment; wisdom is not like computer software. We grow in wisdom through a personal relationship with The Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We spend time with Him, grow in intimacy with Him, learn from Him and share in the very life He offers. That is what Christ is calling us to do in the Gospel this weekend.

Much like that invitation we heard earlier, where Lady Wisdom instructs us to eat of the food and wine prepared for us, Christ invites us to eat His flesh and drink His blood (John 6:51-58), a clear and unmistakable reference to that gift of Himself to us in the Holy Eucharist.

But like wisdom, the Eucharist is not simply a moment which we experience at Mass each week. It is a personal encounter with the Savior who offers His body and blood on the cross to redeem us; the Eucharist is the second person of the Blessed Trinity who calls us into a personal relationship with God.

When we come to Mass do we recognize and acknowledge that?

In her book The Way of Perfection, St. Teresa of Avila is instructing her sisters in prayer and she teaches them how to avoid obstacles which keep them from recognizing the personal relationship which is at the center of the Christian life. She says that, in prayer, they should not merely try to picture Jesus and imagine what He would look like in a given situation or scene. No, instead she says they should also look at Him (see The Way of Perfection, Chapter 26, #3). She reminds them how Christ never takes His eyes off them! When they pray, they should look right back! They should look at the One who is already looking at them and allow that intimate and personal connection to grow even deeper.

In the Eucharist we do well to do the same. When we look at the tabernacle we are looking at Him. When the priest raises the Host at Mass and proclaims, “This is the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world,” we are looking at Him. When the body of Christ is offered to us at communion each week we are looking at Him.

What is the best way to prepare for such a personal encounter? What is the best way to savor such an experience even long after the Mass is over? I would suggest we take the counsel of St. Teresa of Avila and spend as much time as possible—before, during and after the Eucharistic sacrifice—watching in prayer and looking at Christ who never takes His eyes off us.

Bread of Life Discourse III: Drawn into the Eucharist

Jesus, Our Eucharistic Lord:

Rose Window from the Co-Cathedral of the Sacred Heart,

Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston.

(19th Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on 8 & 9 August, 2009 at St. Mary's Church, Cranston, R.I. and St. Mary's Church, Pawtucket, R.I.; See John Chapter 6)

We continue this weekend to listen to the beautiful words of St. John’s Gospel in what has come to be known as the “Bread of Life Discourse.” As I mentioned previously, the Church gives us five consecutive Sunday’s to follow this development in the teaching of Christ who reveals Himself as “the bread that came down from heaven” (John 6:41).

Our series began two weeks ago with the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000. Using only five loaves of bread and two small fish Christ provided for the multitude, with baskets left to spare.

Then just last week we saw how Christ had crossed over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee as the crowd began searching for Him once again. They were seeking Him out for more bread, but Christ engaged them in dialogue and encouraged them instead to work “for the food that endures for eternal life” (John 6:27).

This week, as Christ makes it explicit that He is the “bread that came down from heaven” (John 6:38, 44), our story takes a turn for the worse. The people are not willing to accept that He is the one sent from heaven by God. After all, they reason, we know his father and mother. Instead of believing in Him, says St. John, the people began to murmur; they started talking negatively about Him. Maybe it starts with just a comment or a small quip; we do not know. But before long the whole crowd is in on it.

How many times have we experienced something similar in our own lives? When we are in a group of people, sometimes a disparaging word is spoken about someone that we know…and maybe someone we do not really like all that much. Suddenly another person chimes in and we are all too eager to hear more of the same. Before we even realize it, we ourselves become drawn into the conversation; perhaps we begin to say things that we would not have even considered moments ago.

And we always leave those conversations the same way: more negative and discouraged than before. We ourselves become lessened and diminished. That is how sin often works in our lives. We resist for a while but once we allow ourselves to be drawn into it we are always adversely affected.

Sin separates us from God and from each other, and so it comes as no surprise that Christ so adamantly attacks it in the Gospel this weekend. “Stop murmuring among yourselves” (John 6:43), He says to them.

Christ is the enemy of sin and has come to engage it with the very power of heaven and to destroy it. But He is also the Savior of sinners, and so He offers more than just a rebuke. Instead He offers another alternative, another direction in which we should be moving.

Immediately after rebuking them He explains the reason why they have not believed: because they have not allowed the Father to move them in that direction.

No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draw him.
—John 6:44

So it becomes clear that we can either be drawn into sin and into that negative spiral that always leaves us diminished, or we can be drawn ever more deeply into a relationship with Jesus Christ.

That is what the Father is trying to do in the Gospel all throughout this “Bread of Life Discourse”: to draw the people to Christ.

That is why Christ was sent from heaven: to draw us into a deeper relationship with His heavenly Father.

That is why the Holy Spirit was poured out on the Church: to draw us into an intimate and abiding relationship with the living God.

The word that St. John uses—to draw—in the original Greek implies an action which involves some kind of resistance. He uses it again towards the end of his Gospel to describe the way a fisherman pulls in a net from the sea: he draws it in, but not without effort, because it is laden with fish and meets the resistance of the water (see John 21). God the Father is constantly trying to draw us into a deeper relationship with Christ, but so very often in our lives there is resistance.

There is a powerful story about the conversion of the English writer and philosopher C.S. Lewis. You may be familiar with The Chronicles of Narnia or so many of the other books he has written which express so eloquently and with tremendous passion the Christian message and faith. He is undoubtedly one of the greatest Christian writers of this past century.

Yet for years C.S. Lewis was a vowed atheist! While in the middle of his career as a brilliant Oxford professor he had come to the conclusion that there simply was no God. In his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, he describes how that façade which he had created slowly began to crumble as the God in whom he did not believe began to draw him in! Towards the end of the book he writes:

"You must picture me alone in that room in Magdalen, night after night, feeling, whenever my mind lifted even for a second from my work, the steady, unrelenting approach of Him whom I desired so earnestly not to meet. That which I had greatly feared had at last come upon me. In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England."

Despite all that C.S. Lewis had done to keep God out, He had broken through and the transformation had begun. God is that powerful and that effective, even in the midst of our resistance and in spite of the many obstacles that we encounter along the way.

That same God is here with us now, and He is seeking to draw us ever closer to Jesus Christ His Son. God the Father is drawing us ever more deeply into the mystery of the Eucharist, the Bread of Life. As we draw close to this altar today, let us offer no resistance, but instead allow Christ to nourish and strengthen us on our journey home to Him. May our communion bring us all closer together and, together, closer to Christ.

Bread of Life Discourse II: Searching for Christ

(18th Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on 1 & 2 August, 2009 at St. Mary's Church, Cranston, R.I.; See John Chapter 6)

Our Gospel this weekend is a continuation of the Sixth Chapter of St. John’s Gospel, what has come to be known as the “Bread of Life Discourse.” As I mentioned last week, every three years the Church gives us this five week series in which we focus more intentionally on the mystery of the Holy Eucharist in the words of Christ Himself.

Last week we began with the miracle of the loaves and fish, when Christ fed the 5,000 with just a small amount of food. You may remember the reaction of the people, how they were so enthusiastic and filled with spiritual fervor that Christ had to withdraw because He feared that they would take Him by force and make Him king!

This week the fervor and enthusiasm of the crowd has somewhat…dissipated. They are not quite as fired up as they were last week…Let’s not get carried away here, they might be thinking. Nonetheless, they are still seeking and searching for Christ.

St. John tells us that they did not find Jesus there where the miracle took place, and noticing that His disciples had gone over to the other side of Lake Galilee, they started to move in the same direction. You can picture that scene: hundreds, if not thousands of people, cramming into boats and travelling in search of Christ. And sure enough they find Him!

Yet Christ, always the realist, always seeing things exactly as they are, is quick to size up the situation:

You are looking for me not because you saw signs but because you ate the loaves and were filled.
—John 6:26

They were not so much seeking the God of miracles as they were searching for the miracles of God. Their stomachs being well fed they desired to continue this good thing that they had stumbled upon in Christ. Instead, He tells them:

Do not work for the food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of man will give you.
—John 6:27

Clearly now Christ has outlined the tension between being satisfied and fed here in this life and being satiated and content for eternal life. But importantly, we have to realize that He is not being critical of the first scenario. Jesus Christ is not saying we shouldn’t turn to Him for our physical and earthly needs.

§ On the contrary, God wants us to seek Him out for the food that sustains our bodies; by all means we should ask God for food on the table.

§ In this current economy we should be asking for economic stability and financial security. There is nothing wrong with asking for heavenly assistance in building up our bank account so that we can live with peace of mind and be able to retire without having to worry about the future.

§ When it comes to our health we should be seeking God for healing if we are sick and for strength to endure difficulties and setbacks. God wants us to seek Him out for those things.

§ Perhaps most importantly—regarding our spiritual lives—God wants us to search for the things that will give our souls peace and joy even right here and now on this earth.

The danger that we find in the Gospel this weekend is that we will seek out only those things. We seek to be fed and cared for in this life only, and risk losing out on the greatest Gift that God has in store for us: Himself now and for all eternity.

Do we really seek and search for God in the ways that He wants to make Himself known to us, or do we also tend to seek Him out on our own terms, to want more so the comforts of God than the "God of all comfort" (see 2 Corinthians 1:3)?

Here in Rhode Island we live in the most Catholic state in the entire country. I believe we are over 60% Roman Catholic; 6 or 7 out of every 10 people around you are Catholic. Yet if you go to any of the major commercial bookstores—and I do, because I enjoy those places immensely—and you look in the Religion/Spirituality section, what will you find? Comparatively speaking there are very few distinctively Roman Catholic books there.

Some of the books in those sections are nonsense and fluff, or perhaps even dangerous diversions which could draw one away from faith in Christ. Many, however, are inspiring and interesting and help to build up our faith and can teach us about God and His word.

Nonetheless, there are so few books which focus on the primary way that God is revealing Himself to us here each and every week; there are so very few books on the Eucharist. Yet here the Church spends five consecutive weeks, five Sunday Gospels, delving more deeply into that very mystery. It is that important. We need to open our ears and our hearts when we encounter so central a mystery as the body and blood of Jesus Christ.

There is a beautiful children's book by Antoine de Saint-Exupery called The Little Prince (I am sure you can find it at one of the bookstores I mentioned above; it’s a well known and beloved book). It tells the story of young prince from another planet who comes here to this earth and befriends a small boy. They become fast friends and go on all kinds of adventures together. At one point they find themselves in the desert, days away from civilization, and they are thirsty. They search diligently for water, just as the people in the Gospel this weekend searched for Christ. Suddenly they come across a well right there in the middle of the desert! There is a rope and a pulley connected to a small bucket. They hoist up that bucket and taste the deliciously cold water and are completely satisfied. The little prince then turns to the boy and with great wisdom says:

“The men where you live raise five thousand roses in the same garden—and they do not find in it what they are looking for.”

The boy agrees with his observation and then the little prince continues: “And yet what they are looking for could be found in one single rose, or in a little water.”

So many of us spend our lives searching for and seeking a happiness that can be so elusive and we often end up less satisfied and less fulfilled than when we started. We have televisions with over a hundred channels, new movies that come out every week, and thousands of ways that we can entertain ourselves for hours on end. We search for peace and happiness in our relatives and friends, in our work and leisure, but we are never satisfied because what we are seeking and searching for cannot be found in the things of this world.

On the contrary, what we yearn and long for, seek and search for more than anything else in the whole world has come into this world and found us. That is what the Gospel is about this weekend. Thousands of people rushed into boats and sailed across the sea to find Christ but they failed to see that He had already come down from heaven to seek and search for them. He crossed eternity to come to them and give them His body and His blood. They are on the verge of missing that; let us not make the same mistake!

Today Christ comes here looking for us, and He says to each of us what He said to those who were searching for Him after the miracle of the loaves and fish:

I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.
—John 6:35

Bread of Life Discourse-Part I

(17th Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on 25 & 26 July, 2009 at St. Mary's Church, Cranston, R.I.; See John Chapter 6)

This weekend we listen to St. John’s Gospel and although we are in Ordinary Time to hear from St. John is a little extra-ordinary. During the Sundays of Ordinary Time we usually hear from Matthew, Mark and Luke; John is proclaimed during the Christmas and Easter seasons and on special feast days.

Nonetheless, every three years the Church, in Her wisdom, gives us the entire sixth chapter of St. John-what is called the Bread of Life Discourse-to meditate on and delve more deeply into. Today, and for the next four weeks which follow, we will read through and listen to this remarkable chapter in which Christ announces that He is the Bread of Life; how His body and blood are God’s gift to nourish and strengthen us on our way home to Heaven. It is a beautiful reflection on the mystery of the Eucharist, something so central to our lives as Catholics.

Our discourse begins with the miracle of the Feeding of the 5,000. This miracle is found in all four Gospels but there are details provided by St. John that move us purposefully in two directions. Firstly, St. John wants his audience to recognize the connection with the past: the history of Israel and the significance of this miracle with all that God has already done in the lives of His chosen people. At the same time John draws their attention—and ours—to the significance of the miracle of the Feeding of the 5,000 and to what Christ will do as He founds His Church gives us the Eucharistic celebration which we experience even now, some 2,000 years later.

We begin with the past. St. John tells us there were 5,000 people there and that Christ had them all sit down on the grass; there was plenty of it in that place. As they reclined on that grassy meadow, Jesus fed them physically and nourished them. It is not difficult to see the connection with Psalm 23, so familiar to us and even more so to them:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want;
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul…

Thou preparest a table before me
in the presence of my enemies…my cup overflows…

And so there they are, seated like lambs in a green pasture, being fed by the Good Shepherd who cares for their every need. St. John wants his audience to realize that the God who cared so well for Israel in the Old Testament is still with them to nourish their bodies and restore their souls.

But more importantly, John also tells us that this miracle of the Feeding of the 5,000 took place around the time of the Passover (only John mentions this; Matthew, Mark and Luke do not). Why is this important?

The celebration of the Passover was the most important meal—indeed a Feast of utmost significance—for the Jewish people. It was a feast which recollected all that God had done and which celebrated their very identity as the people God had chosen and saved from slavery in the land of Egypt. Remember that first Passover where God commanded Moses to have each family slaughter a lamb and sprinkle its blood on the doorpost. The Angel of Death would then go through the land but would pass over each of the houses where the blood of the lamb was sprinkled.

Thus God spared Israel and saved that nation from slavery and oppression. He commanded them to celebrate that Passover Meal each year as an everlasting remembrance of how they were saved by God. That celebration was still taking place in the time of Christ, and St. John is making sure that the people understand that this is the context for the miracle of the Feeding of the 5,000.

At the very time Israel is remembering that moment of their salvation and the meal that commemorated their freedom and new life with God, Christ is providing for them another meal. He whom St. John has already told us is “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), is present among them to nourish them in a miraculous way.

But at the same time John also wants to move us in the other direction, not only to recognize the connection with the past but also to see how this miracle leads us ever more deeply into the mystery of Christ which we will come to know as the Eucharist. He does that by describing for us the actions of Christ in detail.

As the people reclined, Christ took the bread, gave thanks and then distributed it among them. Does that sound familiar? It is the very same thing He will do at the Last Supper, something we recall at every Mass: that He took the bread, blessed and thanked God, broke it and then gave it to the disciples.

It is the miracle of the Eucharist that has feed not 5,000 people but countless millions since the foundation of the Church. Christ is preparing the people for that Eucharistic miracle even as they recline on the green grass and watch in wonder this Good Shepherd who gives His very life for the sheep. Imagine, this is only the beginning of this five-week discourse on the Holy Eucharist!

But what I would call your attention to this weekend is the amazing fact that Christ does not perform this miracle by Himself. He could have. He has no need to rely on help from anyone in performing mighty deeds among the people. Nonetheless chooses to rely upon the apostles in accomplishing the Feeding of the 5,000.

Remember, Christ begins by asking Philip, “Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?” (John 6:5), a question to which He already knows the answer. It is the apostles who bring to Him that offering of 5 loaves and a few fish from that small boy. The apostles are the ones who assist Christ in distributing the food to the people, and they are the ones who collect the fragments left over: 12 baskets full, one for each of them.

Why is that important? Because these are the same twelve men who will be present at the Last Supper when Christ will once again take the bread, bless it and thank God, then give it to them, saying: “Take this all of you and eat it. This is my body.” At that Last Supper He will command them, “Do this in remembrance of me.”

They will be the ones who will take the bread and wine, consecrate it and offer that sacrificial gift of the body and blood of Jesus Christ. They will provide the Eucharist for the nascent Church in fulfillment of the promises of Christ. These are the first priests of Jesus Christ, and in this Year for Priests which Pope Benedict XVI has initiated we thank God for the gift of the priesthood, because without the priesthood there is no Eucharist. Without the priesthood there is no sacrifice of the Mass.

In closing I would like to ask you to pray for two things that are essential as we celebrate this Year for Priests. In his homily on the Feast of the Sacred Heart, when he began this Year for Priests, our Holy Father Pope Benedict spoke about the importance of the holiness of the priest. If the priest is not holy, how can he help the people he serves to grow closer to our Lord? If the priest is not holy, how can he lead others in the path of holiness?

Yet there are some challenges when it comes to recognizing this need for the prayers of the church that Her priests will be holy. The first one is that many people simply assume that the priest is holy already. Surely there is nothing our prayers can add; anyone who says yes to God in that vocation must already be holy. Unfortunately that is not the case! Priests struggle with the same difficulties as everyone else, and in this secular world priests have the same temptations that all the faithful have; they strive just as much as anyone else to be faithful to God in thought, word and deed. So please, pray for your priests! Pray that God will make your priests holy and that they will stay holy!

On the other side of the spectrum is a much smaller group, thankfully, and we all know people who make up this group. They are the ones who will say that we should not bother to pray for priests because none of them are any good to begin with! They are quick to point out how "Fr. So ’n So" did this ten years ago, or that other priest said that fifteen years ago. Therefore none of the priests are holy. This is a very negative and cynical position to say the least (not to mention illogical, for that matter) and one that God would have all of us avoid. So please pray for priests, that they will indeed be holy.

Secondly please pray that God will continue to call more priests and that the men He is presently calling will have the courage to say, “Yes.” We are very blessed to have three priests living at St. Mary’s. There are many parishes in our diocese that do not even have one full-time priest. In some places, when the pastor takes a vacation it is a major task to locate priests who will be able to celebrate the Eucharist there that week. We need to ask the Lord to continue the work that is already taking place in abundance in many parts of our diocese, and ask Him to bless those who are being called to this fruitful and life-giving vocation.

May our prayers to God be answered for more priests and holy priests as we continue to draw closer to Jesus Christ, the Bread of Life.

Two Women and a "muy determinada determinación"

(13th Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on 28 June, 2009 at the Chapel of The American College of the Immaculate Conception in Louvain, Belgium; See Mark 5:21-43)

Our Gospel this weekend is a compelling and intriguing passage from St. Mark. He provides us with two very different situations, two separate story lines that collide in the life and ministry of Jesus Christ.

The first one—the story of Jairus and his daughter—is a powerful tale in its own right and could quite easily stand alone as the central plot (the short version of this weekend’s Gospel allows for exactly that option). Jairus, we are told, is a synagogue official; he was a man of considerable importance among the people of Israel. Nonetheless he is in dire straits as we discover his daughter is at the point of death.

Jairus is a man of faith, and he truly believes that if Jesus lays His hands on this little girl that she will be healed. Christ agrees to come to the man’s house, and we are perhaps almost as eager as Jairus is to see her cured. But then, seemingly from out of nowhere, the forward motion of that scene is interrupted!

A woman sneaks up behind Jesus and intentionally touches his cloak. St. Mark says that she was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages; to be clear, she suffered from a difficult menstrual problem. Obviously she would have been through a great deal of physical pain from that condition. But to grasp the gravity of her situation we have to understand that for a Jewish woman at the time of Christ, this condition would have set her apart from the rest of the community.

A woman, according to the Mosaic Law, could not participate in the communal worship during the time of her period (Leviticus 15:25-30). It was not a moral judgment, but certainly it would have been an inconvenience. Nonetheless, for this woman it would have been much more than that. With her specific condition she would have been indefinitely separated from gathering together with the community. She no doubt suffered physically, spiritually, and emotionally. She, too, is desperate to be healed.

Both these stories are filled with pathos and emotion, and although they are distinct and separate scenarios, they also have a lot in common. Firstly, both stories have at their very core the dignity of woman. If ever we wanted to know what Christ thinks about women, and how very loving, compassionate and involved He is in the lives of women, we do well to pay attention to these details. Secondly, in both situations the women encounter Jesus Christ physically; He speaks directly to them but in each case He also touches them (or they touch Him, as in the case of the woman afflicted with hemorrhages). Thirdly, and this follows directly from the second, they are healed and made whole from that encounter.

But there is one more important point these two stories have in common; St. Mark is telling us much more here than the fact that two women were healed. If he wanted he could have told us that in two sentences. Instead he goes on and on—for nearly two pages—about all the details that led up to those healings. The point he is making is that these events did not just happen. These people did not simply sit back and wait for something to occur that would change their lot. They persisted, they persevered, they had a holy determination despite tremendous obstacles, and in the end they experienced the healing power of Jesus Christ.

It has been said before that the road to healing is always blocked; there are always obstacles. These two situations this weekend show us that a holy determination can open the way for the power of God to work deeply in our lives and touch us in places we could not have imagined possible.

The woman afflicted with hemorrhages had suffered for twelve years. She had been to doctor after doctor and instead of healing she had only gotten worse! Why not just give up? But still she seeks healing and wholeness; she reaches out for Jesus Christ not with blind faith but with her eyes and heart wide open. That is holy determination! We get the impression that if she had not been able to take hold of Him there, perhaps she would have followed Him to the next town. Maybe she would have sought Him for weeks, months or even years. This woman had an indomitable spirit!

And so did Jairus. He was a man of faith who believed that Jesus Christ could heal his little girl. He sought out Christ; he was ready for almost anything. But then the worse thing imaginable had happened. He discovers that his daughter is not merely sick, but that she is dead. He could only have been devastated, ready to simply give up. But Christ must have sensed that, for He immediately says to Jairus: “Do not be afraid; just have faith” (Mark 5:36).

It is as if Christ is saying to him: You believed that I could heal her, now believe that I can raise her from the dead. You have come this far, do not give up! See this thing through! Believe in me! Jairus presses on and experiences something beyond what he could have possibly imagined when he left his house earlier that day.

Holy determination. Where is God calling us to have that same holy determination in our own lives at this time? I would answer that question and say—first and foremost—God is challenging us to have a holy determination in the foundational relationship we share with Him in prayer. Prayer is the foundation of our lives, the essential core of our existence in God. Through the intimate relationship we share with God in prayer we draw close in fellowship and communion with the one who St. Augustine says is “more intimate to me than I am to myself.” But that kind of intimacy is by no means automatic!

St. Teresa of Avila, who is amazing, wrote to her sisters that God has so much in store for us in prayer, but we will never arrive there unless we have a muy determinada determinación, “a very determined determination” (The Way of Perfection, Chapter 21, #2). We come to the chapel to pray and what we feel is...nothing. We sense that we are spiritually in the dark or that we are not praying properly, and we are tempted to give up. Don’t! The saints, and especially the mystics, tell us that is exactly where God is: in the silence, near; He is very, very near to us.

How is God calling us to a “very determined determination” in our prayer lives right now? We ask our seminarians here to pray for one hour minimum each day. For you, maybe that time is different. Maybe God is asking you to pray a little less than that…or maybe more. Whatever He is asking of us, we need to have a muy determinada determinación, a very determined determination in our daily prayer lives, knowing that here, perhaps more than in any other place, God can reach us, transform us and set our hearts on fire.

Secondly I would suggest that God is calling us to a very determined determination in our relationship with Him in the sacraments. In the sacraments of the Church we encounter Christ in a spiritual and physical way, and it is the touch of Christ that we truly long for. Both Jairus’ daughter and the woman afflicted with hemorrhages encountered Christ physically in our Gospel today, and they were healed. The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that He has not relinquished that role! We are told that “in the sacraments Christ continues to ‘touch’ us in order to heal us” (CCC, #1504).

When we receive the Eucharist we touch and encounter the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. When we celebrate the Sacrament of Reconciliation we hear the voice of Jesus Christ speaking through the priest, saying, “I absolve you from your sins…” But we have to be determined to place ourselves in an openness and receptivity to fully embrace Christ when He comes to us in these encounters. Do we seek out reconciliation with a very determined determination? Do we prepare well for that encounter with Christ in the Eucharist, by praying before, obviously during, and also after we receive Him here?

Finally, do we have a muy determinada determinación when it comes to the relationships God has brought into our lives? Whether we are here today as seminarians, priests and religious, married couples or single persons, God has brought various relationships into our lives, but those relationships do not just happen. They require effort, sacrifice, and forgiveness. We need to have a very determined determination to see them through, to be faithful when we can be and to be sorry when we’re not.

May God give us all a muy determinada determinación in our lives of prayer, in our encounter with Him in the sacraments, and in the relationships we have been given, so that we might also experience His healing power and the fruits of determination in the life of grace.

Horton and the Dignity of Human Life

(Saturday of the of the Tenth Week in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on 13 June, 2009 at the Chapel of The American College of the Immaculate Conception in Louvain, Belgium; See Matthew 5:33-37)

I do not know if you are a Dr. Seuss fan or not, if you have perhaps read the “classics,” like The Cat in the Hat, Green Eggs and Ham, or How the Grinch Stole Christmas. But there is a movie that came out about a year and a half ago called Horton Hears a Who, and it is based upon the Dr. Seuss book with that same title.

It is the story of Horton, the Elephant. Like all elephants, Horton has great big ears and so he is able to hear things that most people cannot; he can tune into all kinds of sounds. Towards the beginning of the story he stumbles upon a small clover and suddenly hears something…In fact, that something is more like someone as Horton soon discovers a whole world which exists upon that little flower! There are thousands of tiny, little people, called Whos, that live on that clover.

From the very start Horton commits himself to protecting those people and to guiding them to a safe place where they can thrive and flourish (and not get stepped on!). Unfortunately he quickly runs into opposition as the other characters in the story begin to become suspicious of his strange new endeavor. They think he is either lying or delusional. They cannot hear any Whos, and they certainly cannot see any little people living on that clover. It must be a farce!

Undeterred, Horton devotes himself to safeguarding and protecting that clover and the tiny people that exist on it. He states, emphatically, that “a person’s a person, no matter how small,” and repeats many times throughout that movie and in the book:

“I meant what I said and I said what I meant,
an elephant’s faithful one hundred percent.”

No matter what happens, and regardless of the opposition, he has vowed to watch over those little people and he means to follow through on that promise. Horton is crystal clear about what he intends to do and to carrying out this new found responsibility.

“I meant what I said and I said what I meant,
an elephant’s faithful one hundred percent.”

It is a delightful children’s story, but that same attitude is what Christ is highlighting in the Gospel this morning. He says:

Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’
Anything more is from the Evil One.
—Matthew 5:37

In essence, Jesus is saying, “Be clear! Say what you mean and mean what you say. Be clear about your intentions, your will, your desires. Don’t waffle!”

That kind of clarity is desperately needed in the world today, and especially in the area of expertise that our friend Horton was a specialist in: the protection of life in its most minute form. Each one of us began as a tiny embryo. Before even your own mother knew it, you were an embryo inside her body, and God brought that new life into being with the cooperation of your parents. Life is sacred to Him, and to everyone of us, as well.

Today that sacred gift of life at its beginning is more vulnerable than at any other time in the history of civilization. Through embryonic stem-cell research, the human embryo is regarded as a means of experimentation and a mere instrument for scientific and medical progress. But every scientist will tell you that every time embryonic stem-cell research is undertaken—every time and without exception—the human embryo is destroyed. Human life comes to an end.

Abortion is being practiced legally in almost every country today, where the human embryo is intentionally destroyed in the name of human freedom and under the banner of “Choice.” Even artificial contraception, which is considered by some to be a perfectly acceptable and normal practice, often acts as an abortafacient. That means that, perhaps completely unknown to the person using it, the newly conceived human life is suddenly snuffed out and destroyed before he or she had the chance to be born. Is it any wonder that the Church has been fundamentally opposed to these practices and will consistently remain opposed to them?

But the culture we live in needs clarity on these issues, a clarity that is not always present even among the members of the Church. Catholic politicians will sometimes say, “No, I am personally opposed to abortion, but my constituents want to have a right to it, so I will say, 'Yes,' on this issue.” They say one thing, and then choose something else. Christ is clear in the Gospel:

Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’
Anything more is from the Evil One.
—Matthew 5:37

And so, my brothers, as we continue the work of formation for the priesthood we are reminded of how very important it is to be clear and decisive when it comes to these essential areas of human life. We are the ones who study these important questions, and spend years learning the theology regarding the dignity of the human person. We are called to articulate—in the parish and in all the places God sends us to after ordination—the great value and dignity of human life from conception until natural death.

Let us ask God for the grace to do that; to study well, learn well, and teach well the beauty and dignity of life in the face of so much opposition. No matter what, let us protect, safeguard and celebrate human life by our preaching, teaching and way of life, so that we can say, along with Horton: “A person’s a person, no matter how small,” and

“I meant what I said and I said what I meant,
a Christian is faithful one hundred percent.”

Sancta Maria, Omnibus et Singulis

(Wednesday of the 5th Week of Easter, Our Lady of Fatima-Year B; This homily was given on 13 May, 2009 at the Chapel of The American College of the Immaculate Conception in Louvain, Belgium; See Acts 15:1-6)

What do you need to do to go to heaven? What has to happen for a person to be saved?

Those are the questions being asked in our first reading this morning from the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 15:1-ff). Apparently some believers from Judea had come to the Church where Paul and Barnabas were teaching the Gospel, and had insisted on circumcision as a necessary part of being saved and going to heaven.

Now, before we judge these people too hastily, let us look first at the context of that situation. These were Jewish believers. They had already been circumcised and so they had already met the “requirement” that they were proposing. They were seeking to resolve that question about salvation not for themselves but for the others in that Church who had just come to believe in the Gospel.

Of course, they were wrong! Paul and Barnabas are adamant about that from the beginning. The decision which will come from Jerusalem (this coming Friday’s reading) will clarify the matter for good. But we have every indication that at least some of these Jewish believers were genuinely concerned, and perhaps even deeply so, for the salvation of those around them. Are we?

Jesus says to us in the Gospel this morning: “Remain in me,” and “Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit.”

It is the same beautiful Gospel we heard this past weekend. When we listen to those words, “Remain in me,” it is as if Jesus is speaking them directly to each one of us. Remarkably, God’s word to us is that personal, that intimate.

But the word Christ uses when he offers that invitation is addressed in the second person, plural! He is saying “You, all of you, remain in me!” He is concerned for the salvation of each individual soul, but He offers the promise of salvation and the invitation to eternal life to all of us. There is a wonderful saying that if you were the only one in the world, then Jesus still would have come to suffer and die on the cross to save you. I believe that. But, of course, you are not the only one in the world! Jesus did not come to suffer and die for you alone, nor for just me. He came for us all.

The sacrifice of Calvary-and the sacrifice of the Mass, for that matter-is offered for each individual, and also for all of us collectively. As we say in the sacristy at the end of each Mass, referring to that great sacrifice of Christ:

Priest: Pro sit (May it—this sacrifice—be to your benefit)
Acolyte: Omnibus et singulis (For all and for each one)

We should be concerned for our own salvation, by all means. We should prayerfully consider if we are in the right place before God and being made fit for heaven by a living faith in Christ. But we should also be concerned for the salvation of those around us. For omnibus as well as for singulis.

This morning we celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima, remembering the appearances of Our Lady—the Patroness of this College—to three children in a small village in Portugal. Our Lady visited them and they—so much like little children—were fascinated by her! They asked her two important questions, one after the other: “Are you really from heaven?”, and then, with childlike wonder and innocence, “Will we be in heaven some day, too?”

Our Lady responded in the affirmative, but then became more serious and made it clear that little Francisco would make it there only after a great many rosaries (apparently Francisco was a tough little customer)! Nonetheless, they were encouraged by that good news. Then she went on to ask them to pray, offer sacrifices and consecrate themselves to her Immaculate Heart. They were to love the hearts of Jesus and Mary with deep devotion and make reparation for the love that was so often neglected and even out rightly refused to God.

You might ask yourself: why would they ever bother to do that? Were they not just told about their place in heaven? What would be the point of prayer, sacrifice and devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary?

But of course they did not ask those questions. Like children, they trusted and gladly offered their lives and prayers for the salvation of those around them. And that is the point of Fatima. It is the point of our readings this morning, and it is the reason why Jesus Christ suffered and died on the cross: not just for my salvation, but for our salvation. Omnibus et singulis.

Today, on this Feast of Our lady of Fatima, may we heed well Our Lady’s request to those three small children, and to all of us:

1. To pray for souls and pray for peace; especially to pray the rosary.
2. To offer sacrifices, fasting in particular.
3. To consecrate ourselves to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and seek to love deeply the hearts of Jesus and Mary.


May we offer ourselves lovingly to God today, not just for our own salvation, but for the salvation of those around us: omnibus et singulis.

Blessed Damien and the Call to Holiness

(5th Sunday of Easter-Year B; This homily was given on 10 May, 2009 at the Chapel of The American College of the Immaculate Conception in Louvain, Belgium; See John 15:1-8)

Five months from now, on October 11, 2009, Pope Benedict XVI will canonize Blessed Damien of Molokai, acknowledging him as a Saint in the Roman Catholic Church. This morning, May 10, the Feast day of Blessed Damien, as we celebrate Mass only a few blocks away from Damien’s tomb, I would like to reflect on one simple question: Why?

Why is Blessed Damien being recognized as a Saint? The answer to that question is not as obvious as it may seem. If you asked ten people why Father Damien is being recognized as a Saint I would be willing to bet that many would say something like this: “He was a courageous and generous person who gave his life to serve the lepers on the Island of Molokai.” While those things are certainly true they are not the entire reason why he is being canonized on October 11. A lot of courageous and generous people served the lepers on Molokai. They are not being canonized this fall. Maybe some of them should be. Maybe someday they will be, but on October 11 it will be Father Damien. Why?

There is really only one reason why Blessed Damien will become Saint Damien, and it is the same reason why all the Saints receive that singular distinction: because he was holy.

The word saint, literally, means holy. Sanctus in Latin. Hagios (αγιος) in the Greek. Those words are used—in the Liturgy and in the Scriptures—to describe God Himself. In the Eastern Church they proclaim: Hagios O Theos, Holy is God! Here at this Mass this morning we cry out, “Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus! Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord!”

God is holy, and we as believers and followers of Christ are also called to that same holiness. It is the goal of each and every baptized Christian: to be holy. That is what it means to be a saint. That is why the church recognizes men and women as saints; because they were holy.

This past week, the General Superiors of Blessed Damien’s order, the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, sent a letter to their community in preparation for Father Damien’s canonization. In it they acknowledged:

“Holiness is the work of the Lord. His love is what justifies us. From this perspective, the canonization becomes a confession of hope-filled faith. The love of God is at work among us, as it was active in the life of Damien. The love of God can continue to transform us in spite of our weakness and our shadow side.”

There is tremendous hope in that reality for every one of us. Blessed Damien was a courageous and generous man who did great things for God and other people, but he also had a “shadow side,” like the rest of us. Father Damien did not get along well with everyone all the time, and perhaps at times that was not only their fault, but his as well. He had the same struggles that you and I have, but at the very foundation of his life he was holy, and “holiness is the work of the Lord.” He allowed God to work in and through him, in spite of his “shadow side,” and throughout his life the holiness of God shone through. Father Damien was holy.

In our Gospel this morning Jesus teaches us how that happens. He says it happens when we remain in Him:

Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing.
—John 15:4-5

Nothing? What a remarkable statement! Do we truly believe that? Without God we can do nothing. How’s that for a reality check! Without Christ we can never be saints. Without Him we cannot accomplish anything of lasting value for the Kingdom of God. Jesus is the vine, not us! We are the branches, called to remain in Him. We become holy when we remain with Christ, when we dwell with Christ, when Christ dwells in us and lives in us. We become holy because He is holy, and when we remain in Him, we become like Him and then we bear fruit. That is when we bear much fruit.

Pope John Paul II, in a homily he gave here in Belgium in 1995 on the day Father Damien was beatified (the stage just before one is canonized a saint) said that Damien “lived a particular form of holiness in the course of his ministry; he was at the same time a priest, a religious and a missionary. Through these three qualities he revealed the face of Christ, indicating the way of salvation, teaching the Gospel and being a tireless instrument of development. He organized the religious, social and communal life of Molokai, an island banned from society at that time; yet with him everyone had a place, everyone came to be recognized and loved as his brothers and sisters.”

This is the fruit that Damien de Veuster bore on the Island of Molokai. He surrendered his own will to God over and over again, and became an instrument through which the holiness of God shone through; he was able to do so because he remained in Jesus Christ. He bore great fruit because he was holy.

Pope John Paul II went on to say that we are all called to that same holiness. We are all called to place ourselves before God and at the service of the Church, at the service of our brothers and sisters, like Blessed Damien did. He said:

“Holiness is not perfection according to human criteria. It is not reserved for a select number of exceptional individuals. It is for everyone. It is the Lord who gives us the ability to enter a life of holiness, when we accept that collaboration for the Glory of God and the salvation of the world, in spite of our sin and—at times—our rebellious temperament.”

We all have a “shadow side,” and at times we all have “a rebellious temperament.” But we also have the ability to cooperate with God and to remain in Him. We all have the desire and the capacity to be holy, and to bear much fruit for God and to make a difference in this world we live in. The people of this world are crying out for the kind of holiness that Blessed Damien lived and the way he allowed the love and mercy of God to shine through him. God is calling each one of us to this, and inviting us this morning: Remain in me. Remain in me. And if you do, “you will bear much fruit.”