Homily: 10th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year C)

Been There, Done That... (Sunday, June 9)


Readings: 1 Kg 17:17-24; Ps 30; Gal 1:11-19; Lk 7:11-17

As we hear the Gospel read each Sunday, we encounter several movements, threads that run from beginning to end. Each is like the plot-line of a novel, but of course in the Gospel we encounter truth, not fiction.

Now, in today’s Gospel passage from Luke we find several of these threads intersecting with the others. The first and perhaps the most obvious thread is the Gospel story itself: the journey Jesus makes from the moment of the Incarnation through His public ministry, and on to His passion, death and Resurrection. It’s a story of fulfillment; the realization of all the prophecies, of all the foreshadowings that fill the Old Testament. 

Elijah prays for the widow's son

And so it’s no mystery why the Church includes the story of the prophet Elijah among today’s readings. For in this story we see an almost perfect foreshadowing of the miracle in today’s Gospel passage. Elijah calls on the power of God that, through him, the poor widow’s son might be brought back to life. In the Gospel, Jesus seems to accomplish the same thing: another poor widow’s son is brought back to life.

But a foreshadowing in the Old Testament doesn’t point to a mirror image of itself; no, it always points to something greater. For example, in our first reading Elijah must call on and rely on God’s power – “O LORD, my God, let the life-breath return to the body of this child” [1 Kg 17:21]. But that’s not all. Elijah commits himself body and soul, literally stretches himself out on the dead child; and by doing so foreshadows something much greater. For in this act we get a glimpse of Jesus becoming one with us, becoming one of us, matching us body to body. He takes on the wholeness of our lives, our illnesses, our sorrows, even our death.

And then Scripture tells us: “The LORD heard the prayer of Elijah; the life breath returned to the child’s body and he revived” [1 Kg 17:22]. But there are other differences. And Elijah, the prophet, points to something else, something far greater. For, unlike Elijah, Jesus calls on no one but Himself: “Young man, I tell you, arise!” [Lk 7:14] Yes, unlike the prophet, Jesus relies only on His own authority, and by doing so reveals His divinity to all who will accept it.

And here we encounter a point on a second, parallel thread running through the Gospel, a thread of revelation, a revelation of exactly who Jesus is, a thread that reveals to all the divinity of Jesus Christ. Although His divinity is proclaimed from the very beginning – Indeed, Mark begins his Gospel by saying, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God” [Mk 1:1] …but like the apostle Thomas most of us still need to see to believe. And so Jesus, throughout His ministry, tells us and shows us. Through His Word and His works we, too, come to see and to believe.

A third thread that winds its way through the Gospels is perhaps less obvious because we’re so focused on Jesus, we don’t always notice the others who populate the Gospels. This thread follows the movement of the disciples, their coming to knowledge and understanding over time. For most of them it’s a slow, often erratic movement, full of fits and starts; but the disciples, too, move ultimately to the truth, thanks to the Holy Spirit. It’s a movement to faith, to hope, to love.

As we watch the disciples move toward this understanding, we notice others: some are indifferent; some are intrigued and follow Jesus for a time, until He teaches something they can’t accept; and others, why they reject Jesus outright.

Although this rejection of Jesus is not particularly surprising, Jesus’s message certainly was. Filled with hope, His message also forced people to recognize their sinfulness…and most of us don’t care much for that. Yes, Jesus can always be counted on to say some surprising things. Indeed, they’re more than just surprising; they go against the grain of the world; they’re truly counter-cultural.

In today’s Gospel passage He approaches a poor widow as she walks alongside the coffin containing her only son’s body. She’s in tears. Not only does she grieve for her dead son, but she grieves also for herself. For who will take care of her now? And what does Jesus say? In effect, “Stop crying.” [Lk 7:13]

As a deacon I’ve conducted my share of funerals and vigils, and I’ve spent time with many tearful people who have lost loved ones. But I’ve never been tempted to tell one of them, “Now, stop crying.”

As faithful Christians, we know all our sorrows will ultimately be turned to joy. As the Book of Revelation tells us: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning…” [Rv 21:4]  But until that day comes, we experience those sorrows, and we shed those tears.

If you’ve ever spent time with a loved one or friend as they were dying, you know how difficult it can be. You wish you could just reach out and touch them and heal them, to ease their suffering, to bring them back to physical wholeness, so they can stay with you and continue to be a part of your life. Can you imagine the sense of pure joy that such a miraculous healing would bring?

Jesus raises the widow's dead son

Well, in today’s Gospel passage that’s exactly what happened.  “Do not weep,” Jesus says to the grieving mother. And then, without giving her a chance to respond, he does the miraculous and gives all of us a taste of the joy we can expect.

But what was the effect on those who witnessed this miracle? According to Luke, fear seized the crowd; and rightly so. You and I would be afraid as well. For the dead simply don’t come back to life. And then Luke goes on to tell us, “they glorified God” [Lk 7:16] for who else could do this? Yes, they were sure this was God’s work. They just weren’t sure how Jesus fit in.

Interestingly, Luke gives us two responses. Some apparently saw Jesus as another Elijah and spread the word that, “A great prophet has arisen in our midst.” But others, it would seem, believed they had witnessed something greater, and proclaimed: “God has visited his people.” [Lk 7:16]

And with that the work of evangelization began: “This report about him spread through the whole of Judea and in all the surrounding region” [Lk 7:17]. Yes, God has visited His people, and brought us a message of hope.

“Don’t you see who I am?” He asks us all. “I am the way and the truth and the life” [Jn 14:6]. And the life I offer you is eternal life.

I will carry you out of the darkness if only you will let me.

I will free you from the prisons of your own making, from your fears, your sorrows...from your sins.

Come to me and exchange the darkness for the light of Christ.

“When the Lord saw her, he was moved with pity for her and said to her, ‘Do not weep.’ He stepped forward and touched the coffin.” [Lk 7:13-14]

Brothers and sisters, no matter what darkness might overcome us, the Lord Jesus enters the darkness. He touches the coffin. He touches the wood. He receives the nails. He cries out in despair, just as we often do the same.

Jesus, you see, has been there. He enters into the darkness, our darkness. And on some glorious day He will call us into the Light…the Light of a New and Everlasting Life.

You can count on it.

Homily: Wednesday 9th Week of Ordinary Time

Scripture and the Power of God (Wednesday, June 5)

Readings: Tb 3:1-11a, 16-17a  • Psalm 25 • Mk 12:18-27
 
Today’s Gospel reading includes the verse that actually led me to want to study Sacred Scripture more deeply. It was about 40 years ago, and I recall hearing this passage read one morning at daily Mass. When I heard Jesus say: “Are you not misled because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God?” [Mk 12;24] I was truly surprised.

It was then I realized I was really no better than the Sadducees. I, too, didn't know the Scriptures as I should. Yes, Jesus told them flat-out that they were wrong. And after explaining why, in case they hadn’t understood Him, He told them once again they were wrong.

He didn’t mince words, did He? It would seem Jesus was more concerned with the truth than He was about preserving the Sadducees’ self-esteem. Setting an example for the Church, He didn’t hesitate to speak magisterially, to teach the truth, and to do so with authority. As many who heard him "were astonished at his teaching because He spoke with authority" [Lk 4:32]

Well, this dialog between Jesus and the Sadducees made an impression on the younger me. I realized that I, too, really didn’t understand the Bible. Neither did I grasp the origin of the Church’s teachings in so many areas. And so began my life-long journey with Sacred Scripture. And I’m still being surprised by what I encounter.

Ironically, a surprise struck yesterday when I focused on the entirety of that verse. Listen again…“Are you not misled because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God?” [Mk 12:24]

I’d never really gotten past Jesus’s reference to “the Scriptures.” I’d never really thought very much about His reference to the “power of God.” And yet that reference is so central to what Jesus was teaching the Sadducees.

The Sadducees not only didn’t believe in the resurrection of the dead; they believed in no afterlife. They didn’t believe in angels. They believed only in what they read in the Torah, the first five books of Scripture. Only the Torah was inspired.

Of course, Jesus goes right to the second of those books, the Book of Exodus, and shows them how life after death, the resurrection of the dead, is confirmed by the Word of God to Moses.

The Sadducees hadn’t recognized this, because they were very smart people, among the most educated of those first-century Jews; and so like many of today’s very smart people, they rejected the truth of the Resurrection because…well, because people simply don’t rise from the dead.

I suppose they’re right…people don’t rise from the dead. They don’t rise from the dead without God’s help; and that’s what Jesus was telling them.

You Sadducees have forgotten about the power of God. Do you really think God would create you in a wonderful act of personal love, and reveal Himself to you, and provide you with guidance and protection…do you really believe He’d do all this and then let you rot in a grave?

No, He loves you more than this. You have forgotten about the infinite power of your Creator.

Sometimes we forget as well. Sometimes we fall into despair because we don’t accept the power of God in our lives, the very power that brought each of us into being.

God’s power is working constantly throughout the world and in each of our lives. Take a moment today to thank God for that power.

Early Morning Thoughts

So far our trip to Massachusetts has been wonderful. We've already visited our elder daughter and younger son and their families and are now spending time with our elder son and his wife and daughter. Tomorrow we begin the final leg of our trip and head for N. Andover, Massachusetts to visit our younger daughter and her family. Our children have certainly been a blessing, but these nine grandchildren are God's special gift, living reminders that our lives have been truly fruitful. 

At the moment, though, I sit here in our hotel room in Dartmouth, Massachusetts, sipping a nice, hot cup of coffee and trying to be quiet. Dear Diane, you see, is still asleep. I, on the other hand, have been awake since 5 a.m. I've read the morning paper, a disappointing fish-wrapper called The Providence Journal, prayed Morning Prayer, checked out the "breaking news" online, and now sit in the dark basking in the glow of my iPad screen. And so I might as well share a few early morning thoughts with my steadily tiny audience.

The Second Amendment. I'll probably catch some flak for this one: a post by a deacon in support of the 2nd Amendment to our Constitution. Yep, I'm all for it. 

One of the few things that stands in the way of a government becoming totalitarian is an armed citizenry. This is why one should always mistrust the motives of politicians who want to disarm the people. 

George Orwell, a socialist who could never be accused of being a right-wing conservative, once wrote:

"That rifle hanging on the wall of the working-class flat or labourer's cottage is the symbol of democracy. It is our job to see that it stays there."

Our Founding Fathers recognized this as well when they included the 2nd Amendment in the Bill of Rights:

"A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed."

There seems to be a lot of infringing going on these days, just as there are far too many politicians and others who aren't all that enamored of a truly free state.

You'll notice there's nothing in that brief constitutional statement about hunting or target practice. No, the Founders had just lived through a struggle for freedom, a War of Independence, in which an armed citizenry was one of the keys to victory. They knew full well that without that rifle over every fireplace the United States would never have been born.

The Danger of Elites. Have you noticed how those who seek power these days always claim that their overriding goal is to fix things they believe to be broken? In all humility they are determined to right the wrongs that the people umknowingly inflict upon themselves. Only they can accomplish this selfless task because they are so much smarter than the rest of us. Accordingly, their ideas and their decisions should be accepted without question. Although they'll never admit it publicly, they really do not like the idea of representative government. To represent the people is such a passive act, one that puts the people in charge, and we can't have that, can we? The elites, then, those an uninformed and lazy people inflict upon themselves, feel the need to impose their order on the rest of us. And we go along with it. We the people have rejected our sovereignty and become mere enablers of those who seek power. As Lord Acton astutely remarked, "Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely." This is borne out by today's elitists who believe themselves to be like little gods possessed of the right to oppress all who resist their efforts to right the perceived wrongs of the world.

And so we end up with elitists like Mayor Michael Bloomberg of New York who doesn't trust the people to make even the most trivial decisions. He, the all-knowing all-wise super parent, tells us what we should drink and how much. He instructs mothers on how best to nurse their newborns. Nothing escapes his attention. And he doesn't simply tell us; no, he enforces his beliefs through regulation and law. We must obey because it's for our own good. And if we don't obey, we shall be punished. We see the same arrogance displayed at the national level by the administration's use of the IRS to punish those who simply do not share its statist ideology.

Ahhh. Dear Diane awakens, and it will soon be time for breakfast. Today we plan to visit a farm so our little granddaughter can enjoy the animals. Should be fun.

God and Babies

Dear Diane and I have four children, now all grown up, either past forty or pushing It. We've been blessed as well with nine grandchildren and, although all four families live in Massachusetts and we live in Florida, we manage to spend time with them fairly frequently. Of course we wish their parents would just pack up and move to one of the southern states, but that's unlikely to happen anytime soon. And so we're spending the month of May here, making the rounds, hugging and kissing and blessing and spoiling as much as possible. 

This week we're with Alana Claire, the newest of our grandchildren. Just seven weeks old, she's reached the age at which a baby comes to realize that everyone else has just one purpose: to please her. At this point Alana has limited needs, perhaps a half-dozen or so, but only one way of expressing them: she cries. And then her parents and grandparents struggle mightily trying to identify which of these needs has just taken priority over all the others. As you might expect, her mom excels at this. Eventually the need is satisfied, the crying stops, and our efforts are rewarded with coos and smiles and other expressions of contentment. And make no mistake, the reward far outweighs the inconvenience or worry or panic that preceded it. It's just one more of God's gifts to us; for He wants us to love and cherish and care for these little ones that He has loved into being. The Father wants us to be like Him, to love as He loves. He wants us to love with His perfect love. What a lesson this is for our world, a world so self-absorbed that it would rather destroy babies by the millions rather than suffer a moment's inconvenience.

Another of God's gifts that accompanies the arrival of a new baby is a lesson in humility. This is especially true of first-time parents. Quite suddenly this new little person becomes the centerpiece of the household, pushing all other considerations aside. The new parent -- and I believe this applies particularly to fathers -- is quickly cured of any pretence of self-importance and discovers that his family's well-being takes precedence over everything else. For the unprepared father, this revelation can be a humbling and unexpected shock. I really believe it's more shocking and more humbling today because many couples marry and have children later in life. Dear Diane had her fourth child on her thirty-first birthday, but none of our children had even their first child before the age of thirty. Times have certainly changed.

The weather here on Nantucket is a bit dreary this morning, but the professional weather-guessers promise us a sunny afternoon with temperatures in the almost tolerable mid-sixties. We have decided, therefore, to take little Alana on an outing for which I must now prepare.

God's peace...

 

A Few Brief Thoughts

I haven't posted anything for some time now, and can offer no excuse other than busyness. And for the past few weeks Dear Diane and I have been away from home visiting children and grandchildren. Our trip north has been a joy. We witnessed grandson Carlos' First Communion which took place last Sunday during the Latin Mass celebrated at his family's parish, St. Francis Xavier Church in Hyannis, Massachusetts. (Photos are forthcoming, once I transfer them from camera to iPad.) We spent most of last week catching up with Carlos, his four siblings, and their parents.

After our week on Cape Cod we took the ferry to Nantucket to visit with our newest grandchild, seven-week-old Alana Claire, and her doting parents. We will remain on this beautiful island for the rest of the week basking in the sunny aura that surrounds the lovely Alana. Alana and her father (our youngest, Brendan) can be seen below.

After leaving Nantucket we'll go on to visit our two other children and their families before returning home.

Despite the sunniness of our family's world, the rest of the world seems bent on continuing its spiral into darkness. But there have been some bright spots. I was saddened to read that Jesuit-run Boston College had selected Irish Prime Minister Edna Kenny as the 2013 commencement speaker. Kenny has been an outspoken supporter of abortion and would not, one would think, be selected to speak at a Catholic university and receive an honorary doctorate. But BC ceased being a true Catholic university some time ago. The good news is that Boston's archbishop, Cardinal Sean O'Malley, chose not to attend the commencement ceremonies because of Kenny's involvement. Kudos to Cardinal Sean. Here's a link.

Another bright spot is the conviction of Philadelphia abortionist Kermit Gosnell of three counts of first degree murder for the brutal killing of babies that survived abortions Gosnell performed. Kudos to the jury that convicted him and sentenced him to life imprisonment rather than the death penalty. Truly a pro-life jury. Here's a link. Ironically, the "doctor's" attorneys blame the media for his conviction -- the same media that virtually ignored the arrest and trial. Go figure.

Alana, her parents, and Dear Diane are calling me for breakfast, so I will, I hope, continue this soon.
Blessings...and take a moment today to tell your children and grandchildren and parents how much you love them.

Homily: 4th Sunday of Easter, Year C

Readings: Acts 13:14,43-52; Ps 100; Rev 7:9,14b-17; Jn 10:27-30

Today, the 4th Sunday of Easter, is often called “Good Shepherd Sunday,” a day in our liturgical year when we celebrate God’s great love for us.

But did you know, it’s only in John’s Gospel that Jesus calls Himself the Good Shepherd? In the other Gospels He relates a parable that describes a shepherd who goes out in search of one lost sheep. We’ve all seen pictures describing this parable, pictures of the shepherd with the little lamb draped over his shoulders.

It’s a nice story, isn’t it? One of those heart-warming parables with which we can all identify. It’s easy to see oneself as the lamb that has strayed and is now being carried to safety by our forgiving Lord. How wonderful that God cares so much about each of us that He’d search for us and carry us home – reminiscent of the father in the parable of the Prodigal Son.

But in John’s Gospel, where Jesus describes the work of the Good Shepherd, we find a very different story. It’s told in the verses immediately preceding today’s brief Gospel passage.

In John’s Gospel we don’t hear about just one lost sheep, one little lamb that wandered off. No, here we find that the entire flock of sheep is threatened. They’re threatened by wolves and thieves and robbers. In Jesus’ words, “they come only to steal and slaughter and destroy.”

And what about the shepherd, the good shepherd? Do we encounter a different shepherd in John’s Gospel? Yes, indeed we do.

Jesus provides the first part of the answer when He says, “I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father…” What a wonderful revelation this is! In effect the Lord is telling us that our relationship with Him can mirror the depth of His relationship with the Father.

Do you realize what that means? How did He put it in today’s reading? “The Father and I are one.” And so He’s telling us that we can become one with Him. Indeed, this is exactly what happens at every celebration of the Eucharist. By receiving the Body and Blood of our Lord, we are truly in communion with Him. We become one with Him. And because we all share in this, we are in communion too with each other.

This communion, the gift of this unique relationship, is no less than the mystery of St. Paul’s Mystical Body of Christ brought into the reality of the here and now. Yes, Christ is the head and we are the body. We are that intimately connected, joined together in love, in the Holy Spirit. As St. Paul wrote, “For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body…and we were all given to drink of one Spirit.” This communion foreshadows the unimaginable union with God and each other that we all hope to experience in eternity.

But this isn’t all Jesus tells us about the Good Shepherd; for the Good Shepherd is very different from the shepherd who goes out in search of the one lost lamb. For Jesus adds, “…and I will lay down my life for the sheep.” And just so we don’t misunderstand Him, He goes on to say, “No one takes it from me [speaking of His life], but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again. This command I have received from my Father.”

This, then, isn’t just a matter of going out and bringing back a stray lamb. No, this shepherd, this “good shepherd” willingly goes out to face the wolves, the robbers, the murderers and in doing so knowingly gives His own life. Yes, He sacrifices Himself, offers Himself to the forces of evil, and for what end? To save those whom He loves.

Do you see the trade-off here? He makes this remarkable sacrifice and in doing so He tells us, “I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.” When we tie this all together we encounter the revelation of a relationship, a relationship of remarkable love. Do you see the kind of God we have, this Good Shepherd who cares so much for us?

And then, to ensure we get the point of all this, Jesus turns to us and tells us to love others as he has loved us, to be willing to give our lives for them, even for those the world tells us are beneath us. Our love for God, Jesus tells us, must be mirrored in our love for others. We are not strangers to one another; for those who are one with our Lord Jesus Christ cannot be strangers.

Of course, when things get rough, the temptation is to think more of ourselves than of others. But in the midst of this temptation, Jesus reminds of His presence. When we’re in danger, when we’re threatened, when our world seems so bleak, so hateful, so broken, Jesus is with us. He is one with us, just as He and the Father are one. We are, in a very real sense, inseparable.

Amidst all the chaos of this world, He is there with us, reminding us, “Be not afraid.” When the bombs of terror strike down and maim entire families, when hatred becomes so real that it takes the lives of children and teachers, when it becomes so convenient to slaughter thousands of the most innocent among us every day…

Yes, when evil draws near, that’s when we are confronted by the power, the terrible reality, of sin. And it’s not just the sin of the terrorists, or the murderers, or the abortionists…No, it’s every sin, our sin as well, your sin and my sin. And it empowers all those wolves, and thieves, and murderers.

But something else happens when evil draws near: our God draws even closer. And in that closeness, in that communion with Him, He empowers us. He empowers us to be one with Him. He empowers us to be Good Shepherds.

The Good Shepherd – the teacher who shielded the six-year-old with her body.

The Good Shepherd – the young Bostonian who ran to the blast site and used his belt as a tourniquet to save a life.

We’re all called to be Good Shepherds, brothers and sisters. We’re all called to be like Christ, willing to lay down our lives for another.

“I am the Good Shepherd,” Jesus reminds us. “I have ransomed you all.” We are His flock. We must confront and resist the sin of the world and protect those who are weak, those who are innocent.

I suppose only one question remains: Are we willing to do so?

Through the Looking Glass...Again!

Every so often I come across news stories that cause me to suspect that I've wandered into Wonderland. Here are a few that cannot be ignored.

The Extremist Catholic Church. The U. S. Army has apparently classified the Catholic Church (among others) as a "religious extremist" organization. You think I'm joking? Think again. As you can see, the following slide, from a U. S. Army Reserve PowerPoint presentation, lumps the Catholic Church and Evangelical Christians, into the same category with the Islamist terrorist organizations al Qaeda, the Muslim Brotherhood, and Hamas. 

Since Catholics and Evangelicals make up over 50% of our population, it's interesting that the Department of Defense believes a majority of the people it serves and protects are extremists. The real reasons behind the inclusion of the Catholic Church on this list are well known: the Church's stance on both abortion and so-called same-sex marriage. For today's leftists -- and make no mistake, today's DoD is managed by the left -- these issues trump everything else. If the Church would only agree to kill the babies and let the sodomites marry, it would immediately be removed from the list. Of course, the Church will never change it's teaching because it reflects divine law, something which no man can change. Ironically, the Army author of the presentation used the Southern Poverty Law Center as his primary source. The SPLC is perhaps the leading hate group of the American left. 

At this point I suppose I can now claim, without fear of contradiction that, as an ordained member of the Catholic clergy, I am officially a religious extremist who can reside comfortably on President Obama's enemies list. For more on this story, check out these links:

Original story from The Washington Times.

Follow-up from  Human Events.

Images from The Daily Mail.

Jesuit colleges in need of reform. Many Catholics expect Pope Francis to initiate reforms within the Church and especially within the Vatican's Curia. Personally, while I'm sure some reform of the Curia is needed, I really believe the new Pope should first turn his attention to his own order, the Society of Jesus (Jesuits). My reasons stem from a couple of other Wonderland stories:

Loyola Marymount University, a Jesuit institution of higher learning located in Los Angeles, has a Bioethics Institute which, according to its mission statement, enables "students to reflect systematically on contemporary issues in bioethics and healthcare principally through the prism of the intellectual heritage of the Roman Catholic philosophical and theological tradition." One would think, therefore, that this "Catholic philosophical and theological tradition" would reflect the teachings of the Catholic Church. One would also expect the director of the Institute to agree with these teachings. Such expectations, of course, do not take into account that Loyola Marymount is run by the Jesuits. 

It seems the university is conducting a search for a new director of the Bioethics Institute, and that two of the three finalists are -- irony of ironies -- pro abortion. One of the candidates, Professor Ann Mongoven of Michigan State University, has stated that abortion and contraception are acceptable beliefs within the Catholic tradition. Another candidate, Professor Denise Dudzinski of the University of Washington, has also written about the moral permissibility of abortion. The question, asked from beyond the borders of Wonderland, is why are these two people finalists? Read more about it here: National Catholic Register.

Not to be outdone by Loyola Marymount, those who administer Gonzaga University in Spokane, Washington, another Jesuit institution, have decided not to recognize the Knights of Columbus as a student organization because...drumroll...the K of C is a Catholic organization and, sin of sins, limits membership to men. That's right, the Catholicity of the Knights betrays the university's “commitment to non-discrimination and inclusivity.” One certainly has to be careful in today's Catholic university, especially one run by the Jesuits, and not be too Catholic. Interestingly, the Knights are the largest fraternal organization in the world. Read more here: The Daily Caller

Turning my attention to Florida, I read that Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity have been issued a "notice of violation" by the city of Miami, Florida alleging that they are "operating a business without a license." A certain city inspector, a bozo named Cornellius Pierre (May I call someone a bozo? Sure. Why not.), issued the violation despite the fact that the good sisters have been ministering to Miami's poor for more than 30 years and doing so with the city's full approval. Read more here: Catholic News Agency

There are more similar stories, many more, but I am being paged by my visiting three-year-old granddaughter, who must be obeyed.

Pax et bonum...

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Lenten Reflection: Stations of the Cross

A reflection given at the Stations of the Cross on Friday, March 22.

As we pray the Stations together I suspect that, like me, most of you focus on Jesus and His sufferings. Joining Him on the Way of the Cross, we’re so saddened that our God was treated so abominably. But with this deep sorrow comes joy, the recognition that He did this out of love, that we are loved so greatly. It’s why we call next Friday, “Good Friday.” For it was through His passion, death and resurrection that He brought redemption to a sinful world and, with it, the gift of eternal life. And so I suppose this odd mixture of sorrow and joy is as it should be.

But if our reflection goes no further, if we focus solely on Jesus’ sufferings and our thanksgiving for His act of redemption, then we’ve missed a key element of this devotion. For the Stations of the Cross, like this holy season of Lent, is a call to conversion. It’s a time to examine ourselves and our response to Jesus’ call. Indeed, at each station Jesus pleads with us to reform our lives, to turn away from sin, to accept the Gospel. It’s the same call He proclaimed as He began His public ministry: “Repent and believe in the Gospel.”

Consider the first station. As He is condemned by Pilate, He looks into my heart and your heart and reminds us of the times we have condemned others. It’s the same look He gave Peter in the high priest’s courtyard after His friend had denied Him, betrayed Him, again and again. And we hear Him say to us, “Who are you to condemn? Who are you to exalt yourself above another and confine that child of God, that sister or brother of mine, to the category of human debris?”

Yes, standing there before Pilate, Jesus tells us, “There’s only one Lawgiver and Judge…and it is I, not you! Leave God’s justice to me, and love one another.” Once again He issues the call: “Repent and believe in the Gospel.”

Then we watch as Jesus, for love of us, takes up His cross. Bloodied and beaten, He looks up at us, and if we listen we hear His words:

“…whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.”

But you and I, as we strive mightily to avoid any kind of cross in our lives, find ourselves alone, unable to accept the burden.

…the burden of a terminal illness

…or the death of a spouse or a child

...or failure, rejection, loneliness or pain, or the memory of our own past sinfulness.

Again Jesus looks at us, again with love, and says:

“I have to do this alone, for that is the Father’s will. But you don’t. You need only ask and I will help carry your burden. Come to me...For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

Again, we hear the call to conversion: “Repent and believe in the Gospel.”

And then Jesus falls. Indeed, He falls three times…and the world simply watches. No one goes to help Him. How often are we just the observers? People fall in a thousand ways all around us – and we do nothing. They hunger, they thirst, they become ill, they’re imprisoned, they’re rejected by others, they’re confined at home…and we watch.

And then we fall…and suddenly you and I know the pain, the pain of absence, the pain of being watched but not helped. Don’t they know what I’m suffering? But He knows. He’s been there. He looks up at us from under the heavy cross and reaches out a wounded hand, a hand larger than the universe itself, and holds you in His forever-pierced palm. And then He speaks, encouraging us, pleading with us to love one another, as He loves us…

“…whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”

And so it goes. Every station along that Way of the Cross is a call to conversion. At every point Jesus speaks to us, pleads with us, begs us, calls us to conversion, to holiness. In His Cross we see the ultimate expression of love and the power for overcoming evil. Only God's love and grace can set our hearts and minds free from the tyranny of our own sinfulness.

Pope Francis speaking to the crowd gathered last Sunday in St. Peter’s Square for the Angelus, reminded us all of God’s love and mercy:

“God never tires of forgiving,” the Pope said, “but at times we get tired of asking for forgiveness. Let us never tire, let us never tire! He is the loving Father who always pardons, who has that heart of mercy for us all. And let us too learn to be merciful to everyone.”

But we must ask for that grace. We must ask for the virtues of mercy and kindness, virtues that spring from a divine heart full of love and forgiveness. We need to discover, grow, and ultimately take responsibility for building the Kingdom right here, right where God has placed us.

Lent is almost over, brothers and sisters. Let’s approach these final days filled with childlike joy, knowing that we’re the cherished children of our Father. We aren’t in charge of our salvation, nor are we the best judges of how much we’re achieving. So let God be God and just go about the work He’s given us to do, that of being His joyful children.

This, I think, is the holiness to which He calls us.

Praised be Jesus Christ.