Homily: 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B

Readings: Dan 12:1-3; Ps 16; Heb 10:11-14,18; Mk 13:24-32

About 30 years ago, as a group of us celebrated a friend’s 50^th birthday, her husband raised his glass and wished her happiness, health and peace, and then he added, "And at the end of your days may you go straight to heaven."

Her response? “I really wish you wouldn’t say such things. I don’t enjoy hearing about death and sadness on my birthday."

Okay, she said it with a little smile, but it seemed to be mingled with a touch of fear.

Her husband had offered a prayer of hope and future joy, but she received it instead as an unpleasant subject best ignored.

Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel passage may also seem unpleasant to some, but they, too, are really a message of hope.

And I suppose how we receive that message depends on the depth of our faith.

You know, I’ve always believed the opposite of faith is not despair, but fear. Despair is just a sort of side-effect of fear.

It’s why Jesus so often tells us to “be not afraid,” but instead to accept the gift of faith.

Sadly, this wonderful gift that God extends to all is rejected by so many today. Let me share another encounter from my past.

I’ve actually retired several times in my life. But before my final retirement, I worked for a hi-tech firm in Massachusetts.

We had about 400 employees, and I was the oldest. Most were in their 20s and 30s.

One morning, having heard that a young colleague’s father had died, I stopped by his office and expressed my condolences.

His response was remarkable: “No big thing,” he said. “That’s what happens…death, then nothing. So, who cares?”

“We just have to enjoy life while we can. I do whatever makes me happy, whatever brings pleasure, no matter what."

Raised in a Catholic family, he now believed in what? The pursuit of ephemeral pleasure?

How unbelievably sad for him. He desired a continual earthly happiness that’s unattainable. Because he sees nothing beyond, his life has become essentially meaningless.

Beneath his cynical veneer one detects a deep despair, and an even deeper fear.

The great G.K. Chesterton once remarked that the problem with those who don’t believe in God is not that they believe nothing. It’s really much worse. They end up believing anything.

The early Christians encountered this among both pagan and Jews.

Today’s reading is from chapter 13 of Mark’s Gospel. In that chapter, Jesus refers to two very different events.

He had just predicted the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, something that occurred 40 years later when a Roman army under a general named Titus, fulfilled Jesus’ prophecy.

All that’s left standing can still be seen today – the single Western Wall of the Temple.

I supposed most of those listening to Jesus dismissed His prophecy as ridiculous ravings.

Imagine your reaction if on September 10, 2001, someone had told you the twin towers of the World Trade Center would not be there the next evening.

It's hard to conceive of such things happening.

But Jesus goes on, and begins to tell His disciples that they’re about to enter the final stage of God’s plan, the stage in which they will play a major role.

For they will fulfill the prophecy of Daniel we heard in today’s first reading:

“But the wise will shine brightly…and those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever.” (Dan 12:3)

The destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple will be a sign that this change, this transition, is taking place, all beginning within a generation.

This change is highlighted too in our second reading from Hebrews. Here we’re told the Temple sacrifices of the Jewish priests cannot atone for sin.

Only Jesus’s “once-for-all” sacrifice on the Cross can do that. And every day, here and in churches throughout the world, we make present Jesus’ sacrifice on the Cross.

Yes, the sacrifice on the Cross and the sacrifice right here of the Eucharist are one single sacrifice.

And in truth you and I are made present to the Cross and receive the unlimited grace and power that flow from it.

Jesus is telling us that His passion, death, and resurrection fulfill the promises of the Old Covenant and initiate a New Covenant with Jesus as High Priest.

But Jesus also used His prophecy about the end of the Temple to tell His disciples about the end of time, about the end of the world as we know it.

When we first hear it, His message sounds like a message of fear, with its earthquakes, wars, famines, pestilence, and terrors in the heavens.

But it’s really a message of hope, not fear. Jesus gives us a real, tangible goal: to get to heaven, to gain the eternal life Jesus has promised us.

This is the mystery of our faith, the mystery we proclaim at every Mass:

We proclaim your death, O Lord, and profess your resurrection, until you cone in glory.

Today’s readings shouldn’t distress us because they’re not fearful; they’re hopeful.

How did Jesus put it? When these signs…"begin to take place, look up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near."

But what about today? What about us?

While waiting for Christ to come again, how should we act, how should we live?

Jesus tells us: watch and pray. Live as if He were coming tomorrow! Perhaps He is. We don't know.

Oh, there are Christians who say they have the inside story on the end of the world, and some believe it's right around the corner.

Their message is essentially the same: "The end is near! Repent!"

I suppose that’s not bad advice…but it’s slightly misplaced.

We’re not called to repent simply because we think the end is near. We’re called to repent and live accordingly because we’re Jesus’ disciples.

Jesus, of course, told us not to be deceived by those who come in His name telling us "The time has come."

Whether Jesus comes on Thanksgiving morning or two thousand years from now, we’re called to live as if He were arriving tomorrow.

Or better yet, as if He were already here. Because He is.

Yes, someday He will come in power and glory to place all creation at the feet of His Father.

But, today, He comes quietly, invisibly, wherever you and I are.

Look for Him not on a cloud surrounded by triumphant angels, and wearing the crown of a King.

No, as we wait for that majestic return, look for Him where He already is.

Look for Him seated all around you, beside you, in front of you, behind you, right here in the community of His faithful gathered together.

Here is the Body of Christ, His Church, and He is with us, for the Head cannot be separated from the Body.

Look for Him is His Word, for the Word of God is Jesus Christ. When you hear that Word proclaimed here at Mass, when you read your Bible at home, He is just as present to you as if He were right beside you.

As Jesus told us, “my Word will not pass away.” No, it never perishes, but remains to heal us, to nourish us, to give us strength.

And look for Him in the Bread of Life and His Precious Blood – here in His Eucharistic Presence, present here in a most special way – present in every way – Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.

Look for Him at home on the faces of those you love, for He is present in them too.

And look for Him especially where He told us to look: in those who hunger and thirst, in the stranger, the sick, the homeless, the imprisoned, in the lonely, that person in your neighborhood who has no one.

You see, Jesus has given us plenty to do before He returns in glory as Christ the King.

And as He instructed His disciples, “It will lead to your giving testimony.”

The day will come, He warns, when they hand you over, when you are powerless, terrified, betrayed.

The day will come when you are tempted by lies and persecuted because of my name.  

The day will come, Jesus says, when all that you have left is your testimony.

That’s right; the day will come when all we have left is our witness to our Christian faith.

Are we ready for that?

As Jesus assured us in today’s Gospel, we are in that final stage of God’s plan and our generation has some work to do.

As Christians, as members of the Body of Christ, we’re called to prepare the world for the Lord's return, but we must first prepare ourselves.

How ready are we to receive Him?

Each of us will have his own end of the world, and for many of us here today that last day will come soon enough.

When we stand in His presence and say, "Here I am, Lord. Did I do your will?"

How will He respond?

Homily: Mass and Healing Service - Tuesday 32nd Week in Ordinary Time

Good evening, everyone…and praise God – praise Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

It’s wonderful to see so many here tonight; all open to God’s healing presence. Praise God too for this. We’re gathered here in Jesus’ name, so we know He’s with us. And where Jesus is, so too is the Father, for they are One, One with the Holy Spirit.

When we turn to Scripture, we find the Holy Spirit inspiring, revealing, anointing, and counseling. He does it all. He’s the “Lord and giver of life,” the fount of Truth and Wisdom, the sanctifier, the source of sacramental grace, the manifestation of God’s power in the world. When Jesus rejoiced, He rejoiced in the Spirit. When He prayed, He prayed filled with the Spirit. And when he healed, the Spirit acted through Him.

And so, tonight, confident that the Holy Spirit is here among us, present in His power and glory, we turn to Him, the Divine Healer, for healing is among the Spirit’s greatest works. God knows how much we all need healing – healing of body, mind, and spirit; so He sends His Spirit into the world to heal all who come to Him.

The Gospels and Acts are filled with healings, but those healings all so very different. All kinds of people come to Jesus – men and women; young and old; Jews and Gentiles – all seeking His healing touch. Some come on their own, some are brought to Him by others, by family or friends, and some are healed at a distance.

But for all of them it was through the power of the Holy Spirit that Jesus healed. St. Peter confirmed this when preaching to the centurion Cornelius and his household, he said:

“God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power. He went about doing good and healing all…” (Acts 10:38)

Where Jesus is, so too is the Holy Spirit. And together they heal us all.

This came to mind when reading Paul’s Letter to Titus. Titus, a Gentile Christian who had journeyed with Paul, had been placed in charge of building the Christian community on the island of Crete. It’s a brief letter, but it’s packed with advice and suggestions designed to help Titus as he struggles to instill Christian virtue in a people who’d long been ensnared by the “godless ways” and “lawlessness” of a pagan society.

Paul begins by stating that their faith must be grounded in sound doctrine. In other words, they must listen to the apostolic Church and accept its teaching authority. Then Paul looks at the community in Crete, dividing it into age-related groups: older men, older women, younger women, and younger men. In effect Paul tells Titus, the Christian community must be self-supporting, with each person using inherent gifts and strengths to support the others.

Older men, a group I’m all too familiar with, must exercise temperance and self-control, so their love for God, family, spouse, are a living product of their faith. Yes, faith and love are inseparable.

Paul tells younger men to emulate the control and integrity of the older men they admire. Elsewhere, to the Ephesians, Paul instructs all husbands, old and young:

“...love your wives, even as Christ loved the church and handed himself over for her…” (Eph 5:25)

Did you hear that, husbands? Your love must be sacrificial. Just think about that...

For Paul, older women are called to be reverent teachers, models of goodness – no slander, ladies, and as for drink, easy on the pinot grigio. Their behavior should be an example to others, especially younger women, who look to them for guidance.

As for the younger women, they should love their husbands and children, for they are called to be chaste, self-controlled, and good homemakers. We don’t realize how different it was for a woman at that time. She was her children’s teacher, preparing them in every way for adult life, teaching them the faith. She tended her gardens, and much of what she needed and used in the home, she made herself. Being a homemaker with no electricity, no plumbing, no grocery store, was more than a full-time job.

Then Paul writes the phrase that bothers so many: “to be…under the control of their husbands.” Yes, for us today, when equality reigns, and many women work outside the home in every profession, it seems more than a little dated.

But we should understand exactly what Paul was really telling the people of his time, and our time. In a good Christian marriage husband and wife must be of one mind on all the important things that affect the life of their family. How they raise their children, the family’s spiritual life, their shared sense of morality, how they interact with others, both within and outside the Christian community. If a husband and wife disagree on these, the marriage and the family’s faith will suffer.

Paul’s really telling Titus that, regardless of age, our love for God and each other is manifested by our willingness to serve each other and all those He places in our lives.

Now, you might be asking yourself, “How does all this relate to healing? After all, I’m here tonight because I need God’s healing grace.” Well, let’s turn to our Gospel passage from Luke. How did Jesus put it?

“We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty” (Lk 17:10).

And that highlights the problem, for the servant is focused not on himself, but on another.

Sisters and brothers, when we’re hurting, when we’re in desperate need of healing, we tend to turn inward. It doesn’t matter if we’re suffering from physical illness and pain, or emotional and mental stress. Or perhaps we find ourselves wandering aimlessly in a spiritual desert, that our soul, darkened by sin, needs the merciful touch of God’s forgiveness. In the grip of suffering, and in our humanity, we turn inward, toward our suffering, hoping, somehow, for healing and relief.

But Jesus, in that paradoxical, counter-intuitive way of His calls us to do otherwise. He calls us to turn outward, to turn to Him in faith and to others in love.

We often receive healing when

we pray for the healing of others

God knows exactly what we need, but do we know? What kind of healing do you need? What do I need? We’re so sure we know, aren’t we? Often enough, especially in this community, it’s our bodies. They just don’t hold up do they? Illness, injury, and age all take their toll. We turn to God in our suffering and our fears, in our aches and pains, our illnesses, in the trials of our children, in the sometimes-shattered lives of those we love…and we pray for healing.

We don’t understand the why of this suffering, or why God doesn’t just take it away. And so we pray, but not very well. As St. Paul reminded us:

“We do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings” (Rom 8:26).

Now that’s amazing, isn’t it? Because we don’t know how to pray, the Holy Spirit prays for us, intercedes for us, within the Trinity itself. Can there be anything greater?

The son of some close friends was a young man named John. He died at 41 after a lifetime of suffering from a genetic disease. Believe me when I say that John, the father of four, is a saint, because it’s true. He was one of the saintliest people I’ve ever known.

Despite a lifetime of pain and suffering he refused to let his illness define him. Once, asked if he were angry with God because of his illness, John replied, "Of course not. Why would I be angry at God for the greatest gift He's ever given me?" Unlike most of us, John realized early in life that everything is a gift, especially life itself.

Almost 50 years ago, I flew home to Cape Cod from the Philippines because my mom was dying. As I entered her hospital room, she looked up and said, “Now I can die.” We talked for a while, and she told me, “Son, everything is a gift, even this horrible disease, because it’s taught me so much.” She died that night.

My mom and young John personified those famous words of St. Paul:

"We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose (Rom 8:28).

Both spent their lives fulfilling that purpose by serving and praying for others, suffering for others. And here I am, 80 years old, still praying that someday I may have such faith. As my wife, Diane, will be happy to tell you, I’m not a very good sufferer.

So, look to those seated around you, and realize you’re not alone. For they, too, are suffering. How can you serve each other? Will you pray for them, demonstrate your love for them?

There will be healings here today. Some of you have come for physical and emotional healing. And there will be some of those. But every one of us here today needs spiritual healing, healing of the soul, the healing that comes from total surrender to God. With that surrender, that abandonment, "God will fully supply whatever you need…”

Are you willing to make an act of surrender, an act of abandonment, and take all that you have, all that you are, and lay it at Jesus’ feet? He wants it all, you know, out of a love so great it’s beyond our understanding. He wants us to mirror His redemptive act of love by sharing in the crosses that we each must bear.

Do we recognize the power of the collective faith and prayers of our community? Do we trust that God can do the same for us as faithful, prayerful people who lift others up in their need?

After Mass we’ll have a laying on of hands. Come forward. Turn your heart and mind to Jesus Christ. Give Him permission to come into your life, to work His will within you.

“Heal me, Lord, and heal these others who come to you.” 

Let that be your prayer. 

“Heal us all, Lord, of all that’s keeping us from being one with you.”

Trust God, brothers and sisters, for He knows your heart.

Praised be Jesus Christ…now and forever.

Blessings and More

Because The Villages, our community here in central Florida, is so very large and still expanding, our parish receives many new parishioners every month. Part of our welcoming process includes an offer to bless each family's new home. Many folks accept this offer.  

The Church actually has a specific rite for the blessing of a new home; indeed, it has rites for the blessing of people, homes, businesses, religious articles, vehicles, pets...you name it. And here in our parish, we permanent deacons are often called on to perform many of them...sort of a "Blessings are Us" kind of thing. 

October 4th is the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, a saint who was particularly fond of all God's creatures. And so, on that morning, shortly after morning Mass, two of us, Deacon Greg and I, spent some time blessing a large gathering of family pets our parishioners had brought to the parish. We conducted the blessing rite outside, under a portico, so we would all remain dry in the event of rain. As it turned out the day was perfect. After the readings, prayers, and general blessing, we then blessed each animal individually, while sprinkling it with holy water. Given the circumstances, and the large number of animals, I'm amazed at how placid most of these wonderful creatures remained.    

As I recall, the animals that morning were all dogs and cats, nothing too odd or too wild, so this year was fairly normal. In the past I've been asked to bless snakes, tarantulas, lizards, and a few other of God's not very domestic critters. A few of our local farmers and ranchers have also asked me to bless cattle, goats, and horses. Yep, we do it all.

One of our parishioners, Maria, had asked if I would go to her house that morning and bless her two birds. She didn't want to take them to the parish blessing rite because it would probably upset them, being surrounded by dozens of noisy dogs and cats. Of course I agreed.

My experience with birds as pets is limited to a single bird. When I was a child, our family had a parakeet named Heinz, a clever little bird with a fondness for learning new words. Heinz had developed a close relationship with our female Weimaraner, Heidi. Heidi, a very tolerant dog, readily accepted her new flying friend. Heinz often landed on her back, then made his way across her head, and down to her nose. There he would stand, sometimes for ten or fifteen minutes, just looking at her. Heidi accepted all this and seemed to enjoy his walking on her back. Perhaps she appreciated the massage delivered by his little bird feet.

I won't go into the details of Heinz' sad and premature demise in which Heidi played no part. Although accidental and certainly unintentional, it was all my doing, a truth I have tried to repress for the past 70 years.

Anyway, when I arrived at Maria's home, she, her husband, and their little dog greeted me. I was then introduced to their two birds who were enjoying themselves out of their cages. Other than the limited knowledge I picked up from my childhood experience with Heinz, I know very little about tropical birds. Parrots, cockatiels, cockatoos, mynahs, and others are mysteries to me. They're very attractive birds, are long-lived, and seem quite intelligent. I'm also intrigued by their remarkable ability to imitate human speech and other sounds. 

I can't recall the names of Maria's two birds, although given the state of my aging brain, that's not unusual. But both birds, and the dog, seemed very interested in this man who had invaded their home, at least until I blessed them and sprinkled them with holy water. That led to some confusion. One bird, I believe it's a cockatoo (?), stood on my hand as I blessed it, and Maria captured the moment with her phone's camera. The bird, however, was eyeing my ear, so it was probably wise that I handed it back to Maria.

So, there you have a few hours in the life of a deacon, extending God's blessings to His people and His creatures. It's a small but enjoyable part of my ministry, and I'm always overwhelmed by the joy it brings to His people.

Homily: 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B

Readings: Is 53:10-11; Ps 33; Heb 4:14-16; Mk 10:35-45

______________________________

One hot summer day in 1941, in the infamous death camp of Auschwitz in southern Poland, the Nazis sentenced 10 prisoners to die by starvation in retaliation for an escape. One of the ten had a wife and children, so a 47-year-old Polish, Franciscan priest offered himself in his place. The man's number was crossed off the list and the priest's inserted: number 16670.

That very day ten men entered the starvation bunker, just an underground pit -- no light, no air, no food, no clothing, nothing…nothing but the love of God radiating from one simple priest. Two weeks later they injected him with a fatal dose of carbolic acid, then incinerated his wasted body on the feast of the Assumption. Forty-two years ago, on October 10, 1982, Pope John Paul II celebrated the canonization of this man, St. Maximilian Kolbe.

Maximilian lived the Gospel to the fullest, conformed his will to God’s, regardless of consequences, and answered God’s call personally, without question. Only a few are called to give witness to God's love as martyrs, although their numbers have increased greatly in recent years. But the word “martyr” simply means witness, and we’re all called to witness, and sometimes to lead radically Christian lives in the circumstances in which God places us.

Sometimes the Gospel message almost knocks us flat with its firm but unmistakably clear demands.

Sometimes it shakes the very foundation of our world, turning our lives upside down.

Just consider the Zebedee boys, James and John, in today’s Gospel passage. Jesus had just told His Apostles, for the third time, about His passion, death, and resurrection. Their response? Silence. This just isn’t something they want to think about. So, instead of focusing on Jesus and what He has just told them, they change the subject, to their favorite subject: themselves. Don’t you just love how the two brothers approach Jesus?

“…we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”

But they don’t really ask, do they? No, then they give Our Lord an order, as if they’re in charge:

"Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left." 

They simply tell Jesus exactly what they want. Sadly, it reminds me of the way I sometimes pray. Do you ever do that, just give God orders? I not only tell Him what to do, but how to do it.

"Dear Lord, I’ve got this problem, and here’s how I want you to solve it…"

Like many of us, James and John don’t seem to be overflowing with humility, do they? Convinced they had earned it, they demanded prime seats, essentially telling Jesus:  Lord, seat us in glory right beside you. We’re your special ones, Jesus. These other guys…well, they’re okay, but they really don’t measure up, do they?

Like these two brothers, we too are often driven by pride, aren’t we? Even those seeking holiness can fall prey to a kind of spiritual greed. So, Jesus gives them the first of two lessons. Because they don’t know what they are asking, Jesus first tells them what their demand means.

They must first drink from the Lord’s chalice, and undergo His baptism of suffering, something that they had not yet understood or accepted. 

Ironically it was James, the elder son of Zebedee, who was the first of the apostolic martyrs. Perhaps he and his brother would have understood had they actually listened to Jesus and also pondered the words of Isaiah from our first reading. 

Yes, hundreds of years before the Incarnation, God reveals, through His prophet, what the Son of God made man must suffer to redeem the world of its sins. Just a moments ago we heard these prophetic words…

“…through his suffering, my servant shall justify many, and their guilt he shall bear.”

But I suspect Isaiah’s Suffering Servant was far from the minds of James and John. They couldn’t imagine Jesus, in an act of divine humility, emptying Himself, suffering, and dying on a Cross, like a slave, before entering His Kingdom.

The other Apostles were no different. Upset with the brothers, they were really driven by the same motivations: Lord, we’re just as good as those two.

And with that, Jesus teaches calls them all together and teaches His second, more important, and more challenging lesson:

“…whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.”

Is there a more politically incorrect word today than slave? And yet, here’s Jesus, telling His Apostles, and telling us, to be like slaves. We are slaves, you know. That's why Christ can ransom us through His suffering. Someone truly free doesn’t need to be ransomed, but slaves do.

You see, like James, John, and the others, we too can become self-absorbed, something that will ultimately enslave us, enslave us to sin. Jesus is telling us to turn away from ourselves and turn to others. From a worldly perspective St. Maximilian was enslaved by the Nazis; and yet, in truth, his faith made him free, free to offer himself, Christ-like, and give his life to ransom the life of another.

The call Jesus extended to the Apostles, and its example manifested by St. Maximilian while surrounded by the evil of Auschwitz, is a call to love, a call of loving humility. It’s a message that the Apostles ultimately learned and lived, and one that we must learn as well.

My dad once told me, humility is the foundational virtue that supports all other virtues. Lacking humility, the value of any virtue is lessened. If, for example, a wealthy person gives generously to charity or the Church but is motivated solely by the public recognition he receives, the poor may certainly reap some benefit. But what about the giver's soul? 

And then Dad followed this thought with another: “Humility’s a very strange commodity, because once you know you have it, you just lost it.”

Yes, it's funny, but he was right. You don’t hear saints talking about their humility, because they know that true humility merely reflects reality, divine reality. God created each of us in a divine act of love; but created each no better than the other. Yes, we are all so very valuable, everyone from conception until natural death must be loved and protected. To grasp this perhaps every morning we should all read the final verses of chapter 25 of Matthew’s Gospel, the only place in Scripture where the last judgment is described in any detail.

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”

Jesus is telling us how valuable we all are, that He became one of us, took on our human nature, so we should see Him, the divine, creative and incarnate Word of God, in everyone we encounter. God calls us to love Him and each other, and in return for our response, for our submission to His Will, He promises a treasure far greater than you and I can ever imagine.

Here I am, after 80 years of a life with very little suffering, it’s easy to consider opting for a finishing leisure and just sit back and enjoy the rest of my days. But then the Spirit calls to mind St. Maximilian, the Apostles, so many others, and especially the world-redeeming suffering of our Lord, Jesus Christ. And so we ask: What does God have in store for each of us? As He revealed in our reading from Hebrews, we can only…

“…confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.”

Yes, we all plead for God’s timely help during these times of our lives, as we struggle to be seen worthy of the gift. 

But only arms that are empty of self can stretch out to receive that gift…just as St. Maximilian did when he held out his arm for that fatal injection. And just as Jesus did when He emptied Himself giving everything on the Cross.

"I am the way, the truth, and the life," Jesus tells us; therefore, nothing should take precedence over Christ in our lives, over His right to rule over our hearts. For that which we place first in our lives – when it is not God – becomes a prison. And that's the paradox: only as servants, as servants of God and each other, can we experience true freedom.

Signs of Truth

Often enough, people don’t want to hear the truth, especially when it’s stark and perhaps a bit frightening, the kind of truth that denies their Weltanschauung and their hopes for the future, as well as the hopes and lives of those they love. I suppose that’s a normal human response when things seem to be going reasonably well, and then someone comes along and insists on a very different view of the world. 

But faithful Christians don’t view their lives through a worldly lens. For them the truth is always “Good News” even when, to the worldly, it seems very bad indeed. After all, Jesus is “the Way, the Truth, and the Life” [Jn 14:6]. When the world and its confusion and hatreds pour into our lives, we Christians should be joyful because it’s an opportunity to suffer for the proclamation of the Gospel. 

Oops! Today most Christians in the West don’t expect to suffer simply because they go to church on Sunday and drop a few bucks in the basket. And yet, here we are, facing what could be another era of persecution. Don’t believe it? Just look around the world and realize it’s on its way to you and to me…and a lot sooner than we probably think. But the Church has been there before, many times, and yet it’s still here and will be here until the end. Although in the US and in Europe, the Church appears to be in decline, this isn’t true globally. In Africa and parts of Asia the Church is growing, just as it grew in its earliest years.

We need only look to that early Church and its response to persecution. Tertullian (died c. 220 A.D.) was a lawyer (we’ll forgive him for that) who converted to Christianity largely due to the courage of condemned Christians he witnessed as they went to their deaths singing hymns. His ultimate response, one directed to the Roman Empire:

“We are not a new philosophy but a divine revelation. That’s why you can’t just exterminate us; the more you kill the more we are. The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church. You praise those who endured pain and death – so long as they aren’t Christians! Your cruelties merely prove our innocence of the crimes you charge against us…

Yes, indeed, “the seed of the Church.” God calls us Christians to sacrifice and actually expects His disciples to give all for Him: evangelization without compromise. But that’s a truth few of us want to hear, much less think about. The signs, though, are there for all to see. The persecution of Christians today is greater than at any other time in history. And where is the Church growing? Wherever it suffers persecution.

I’ve focused below on only three nations: France, Finland, and Nigeria. These nations, from almost every measurement, seem to have little in common. France, a nation once considered among the most vibrant Catholic nations in the world, now hosts a Catholic Church in decline. Finland, a largely Protestant nation, now has a government that prosecutes members of parliament and clergy for speaking the truth about Christian morality. And Nigeria, where Christians of all denominations are subjected to deadly persecution. 

The stories that follow were pulled from the news in just a few days. As you might expect, most of them haven’t received much attention from the mainstream media or Western governments. 

Catholicism in France. As in many European countries, the Church in France has been in decline. To my knowledge French Catholics aren’t being imprisoned or sent to the guillotine just because they practice their faith. But persecution often involves the application of far more subtle means as secular governments merge with societal forces intent on undermining religious values. And their primary targets are children and young adults. We see this throughout the western world, in schoolrooms, in social media, in advertising, in businesses, and through dozens of other channels. And yet, as Isaac Newton demonstrated, actions generate reactions.

In France, as in much of Europe, roadside crucifixes (calvaires in French) are common sights. Many, erected decades ago, are in need of restoration. In 1987, in a small town in northern France, SOS Calvaires was formed to maintain these roadside crucifixes. Since then this apostolate has expanded its work to include the erection of new crucifixes throughout the country.  As might be expected, the organization has attracted both religious and laypeople. Perhaps surprisingly, most of the latter are young people in their teens and twenties. Three years ago it set a goal to build a new roadside crucifix each month, but it now averages more than one every day and has expanded to include 65 affiliated groups throughout France. 

It might sound like a small thing, but it isn’t. Every day in what many have called “pagan France” the young Catholics who make up SOS Calvaires are erecting crucifixes, some as tall as 13 feet, somewhere in the country. And as they do this work — work which demands both physical strength and moral courage — people see them witnessing to Jesus Christ. Their witness remains embedded in each crucifix, a sign to all of their personal faith and a sign pointing back to the once-vibrant faith of France. The French government might ignore the nation’s ancient and formative Christian heritage, and the Church might continue to suffer physical attacks (more than 800 in 2022), but things are changing. Even baptisms are up. As a leader of SOS Calvaires said, “If we don’t see the Cross, we don’t think about God.” May their tribe increase.

Finland. The enemies of Christianity sometimes wear business suits and hang out in courtrooms and parliaments. That’s certainly true in Helsinki where a member of parliament, Päivi Räisäne, has been charged, again, with violating “hate speech” laws by quoting the Bible’s teaching on marriage. The state prosecutors are very upset with one of her 2019 tweets that included pictures of Bible verses, as well as a 2004 pamphlet she wrote on marriage. And so, she now faces a trial for expressing her Christian views on marriage and sexuality. Interestingly, two years ago she was acquitted of these same charges by the Helsinki District Court. I don’t know for sure, but perhaps Finland doesn’t protect its citizens against double jeopardy, or maybe these are new charges based on different writings by Räsänen. But that’s all irrelevant. One would think a so-called Western nation like Finland would appreciate and encourage free speech.

Defending their case, the prosecutors, displaying an obvious but subtle hatred of Christianity, stated that as prosecutors they “can limit freedom of expression in the outward expression of religion.” I suppose that’s a plus when compared to the beliefs of some prosecutors in the UK who have charged people for praying silently outside abortion clinics. Before arresting these dangerous Christians, the police had to ask them if they were actually praying, or just standing around. All of this is happening in nations that were once a part of Christendom, but are now just failing secular states competing with each other as they race to oblivion.

As Räsänen herself stated so eloquently:

“Everyone should be able to share their beliefs without fearing censorship by state-authorities. I know that the prosecution is trying to make an example of me to scare others into silence. Yet, you do not have to align with my views to agree that everyone should be able to speak freely. With God’s help I will remain steadfast and continue defending everyone’s human right to free speech.”

Pray for this courageous woman who takes her Christian faith seriously. 

Nigeria. In many parts of the world, persecution is far less subtle. For example, Christians in northern Nigeria are the most persecuted people on earth, and theirs is a deadly persecution. According to Open Doors, in 2022 roughly 90% of the world’s Christian martyrs — which equates to over 5,000 Christians — were slaughtered for their faith in this part of Nigeria. Who’s been murdering them? Islamists. This has been going on for a long time. In the past 15 years 52,250 Nigerian Christians have been brutally murdered at the hands of Islamist militants. They not only kill Christians — men, women, and children — but also destroy churches — over 18,000 Christian churches and 2,200 Christian schools were set ablaze during this same period. And if you’re a moderate Muslim who objects to such genocide, the Islamists will kill you too. Approximately 34,000 moderate Nigerian Muslims died in Islamist attacks.

Megan Meador, communications director of Aid to the Church in Need (ACD) describes the situation faced by Christians and others in today’s Nigeria:

“The persecution comes from terrorists, from machete-wielding militias, from mob violence and laws that implicitly encourage them, and from authorities who are indifferent to the mayhem and shrug off these atrocities, allowing perpetrators to go free while punishing victims…We’ve had cases where Christians have been hauled in front of Sharia courts, without jurisdiction, and accused of crimes like apostasy, which is not supposed to be a crime in Nigeria…We are right now supporting a Sufi Muslim young singer, Yahaya Sharif-Aminu, who was sentenced to death on blasphemy accusations for posting lyrics to social media, and is now challenging that law at the Supreme Court. Nigeria needs to fully practice what is protected under its Constitution."

ACD is a strong and constant supporter of religious freedom throughout the world. In Nigeria ACD’s work includes defending Christians from legal attacks, false accusations, and discrimination. They also support those who are threatened by blasphemy laws if they express their religious beliefs openly. Both Open Doors and ACD deserve our support for the work they do. 

Bible Study Notice

Just a brief announcement for those who participate in our parish Bible Study: Our Wednesday morning session (10 am on October 9) is canceled because of hurricane Milton. All parish events are canceled on Wednesday and Thursday, October 9 and 10.

Birthday and Life

A few weeks ago, on Friday the 13th, I celebrated a birthday, my 80th, and I’m slowly coming to terms with it all. I suppose, from one perspective, it’s just another birthday, one among many. But it’s also a birthday I never really expected to reach. When I was younger, 80 seemed so very, very old and I simply never really considered living that long. And later, as a Naval aviator, I thought my life might be cut short by some unanticipated, catastrophic event in either war or peace. But, surprisingly, I survived, and here I am, 80 years old! And it still seems so very, very old. But I thank God for permitting me to live so long, and ask what He still has in store for me. After all, He didn’t keep me alive just to count the days or aimlessly stumble about, but to do some good. Sometimes, though, the good we’re called to do is involuntary, simply the result of God’s work. We do it but don’t ever, at least in this life, either understand or see its results. So, as Jesus commands us, “Repent, and believe in the Gospel” (Jn 3:15). Yes, we are called to repentance and to faith, and to keep doing as He commands throughout our days. 

Another redeeming value is my heath; it remains reasonably good, at least for now…although I could stand to lose a few pounds. I’m working on that, and still get up at 5 am every day to take my 2-mile fast walk. I also toss about 50 newspapers from driveways to front doors. Neighbors think I do this out of kindness, but in truth I reap the benefit of bending over to pick up each newspaper and give my back and tummy a minor workout. As a result, I have no problem reaching my 10,000 daily steps, although I’m not sure why that’s a desirable goal. Why 10,000, this remarkably round number, when 9,571 or 11,212 are probably just as good? But my little smart watch (Fitbit) tells me this is important, so I acquiesce and work to achieve this goal. Perhaps that’s the reason we need goals, easily defined, grasped, and achievable goals…like 10,000.

Other goals and hopes are, of course, far more important. For example, the American Catholic bishops have instructed Catholics to vote for life, to vote against those advocating abortion. We can only hope the faithful will listen and obey. That’s right, when the Church speaks definitively, when it speaks from its magisterial teaching authority, we are called to obey. The existing culture of death, which currently rules much of our political life, must be resisted by the faithful. You might not “like” every politician who pledges to support a culture of life. You might disagree on some issues, but as one spokesman for the bishops said, "At the forefront of 'life issues' is the right to be born as the right upon which all other 'life issues' rest.” We cannot, then, vote for anyone who supports abortion, the intentional taking of an innocent human life.

I’ve always believed that ultimately abortion will be overcome by prayer and through the work of the Holy Spirit, who alone can change the hearts and minds of the people. But that doesn’t mean we just ignore the political and simply turn it all over to God, while turning away from the evil surrounding us. The trouble is, when you’re surrounded, you really can’t turn away. And, anyway, God likes to use us to fulfill His work in the world. Just don’t fall into the trap of thinking it’s our work, our effort that brings God’s will to fulfillment. As Mary said, just “Do whatever He tells you” (Jn 2:5). And pray for life!

Homily: 24th Sunday in Ordinary Timne - Year B

Readings: Is 50:5-9a; Ps 116; Ja 2:14-18; Mk 8-27-35

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“Who do you say that I am?”

An interesting question Jesus asks the apostles. Only Peter answers, but he gets it right, doesn’t he? With a little nudging from the Holy Spirit.

“You are the Christ” [Mk 8:29], he responds. That’s right --  You’re the Messiah, the one who will set us free. Of course, Peter’s understanding is very different from that of Jesus. This becomes apparent just a few moments later when Peter gets it wrong. He gets it so wrong that Jesus calls him a Satan. I guess that’s about as wrong as you can get.

Poor Peter. He’s beginning to understand who Jesus is. We see this in Matthew’s Gospel where this same scene is described. Here Peter answers Jesus by saying,

“You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” [Mt 16:16]

For Peter, Jesus is the promised one, the king who will reign over Israel and bring freedom to His people. But Peter’s idea of a king and freedom are human concepts. And there’s the irony. Peter’s beginning to understand, but for all the wrong reasons. In truth, he hasn’t a clue…at least not yet.

Peter and the others never dreamed that the words of Isaiah, words we just heard proclaimed here, could apply to the Messiah, and still less to Jesus:

"I made no resistance, neither did I turn away. I offered my back to those who struck me, my cheeks to those who tore at my beard; I did not cover my face against insult and spittle." [Is 50:6]

Isaiah’s Suffering Servant isn’t the Messiah they envisioned, nor is He the God they worship. It was a slow, painful process for the disciples to change their thinking, something that wasn’t fully realized until after the resurrection, until Pentecost.

And brothers and sisters, we, too, must sometimes go through the same process. That’s one of the more interesting aspects of this exchange between Jesus and Peter: It’s still going on today. Jesus still asks us who do we say He is…and just like Peter, far too many, don’t have a clue.

Many so-called Christians stopped believing in Jesus’ divinity long ago. I mean, really, how can any educated person today believe that this itinerant 1^st century Jewish preacher was actually God? A powerful teacher, perhaps…a man of strong character…a wise philosopher…all of these things…but the Son of God?

Others will say, okay, maybe he was a prophet…Or a great moral leader…Or a revolutionary hero…Or simply a good man who, like many other good men, died before his time…Or perhaps he was simply a fool…Yes, indeed, these answers, and others like them, are all out there.

But for most of us, for us Christians, at least when things are going well in our lives, Jesus’ question is easy to answer: He’s the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

When you saw your newborn child or grandchild for the first time…Thank you, Lord; Oh, yes, Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

When a loved one is cured of that life-threatening disease…Thank you, Lord…Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

When an adult child returns to the Faith. Thank you, Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

Oh, we know the answer when things are going well, in the midst of success and happiness and the good things of life.

But then, there are other days, aren’t there? Days when that question nags and challenges — even taunts us for a response: But who do you say that I am? When others ask about Jesus, what do you say to them?

“I don’t know!”, we want to cry. “I wish I knew. I wish I could say for certain…”

So often, that question comes to us, not from one of the good places, with nice landscaping, and good food, and valet parking, and room service. 

Sometimes it comes from the deserts of our lives, from the dark woods choked with thorns and brambles. Then it just doesn’t sound very pleasant, does it? No, it sounds sharp, so sharp it can wound. Yes, God’s question, “Who do you say that I am?” comes just as often from places of uncertainty, from places of pain and conflict.

And that’s when we want to scream an answer: “I thought I knew who you were, but not today, not after this…” Not when we’re lost in those wilderness places, places where the border between hope and folly, between life and death, between trust and despair – places where those distinctions are so blurred the words become almost meaningless to us.

A few weeks ago, I conducted a committal service for a family at the National Cemetery in Bushnell. The husband and father, seemingly in wonderful health, had died suddenly of a heart attack while he and his wife were visiting their children. One moment he was laughing and playing with the grandchildren and the next moment he was gone. They were devastated – all of them – and each struggled to answer Jesus’ question: But who do you say that I am? And do you know something? So did I.

For it was one of those days when the answer we want to give, the witness we want to be, the words we long to say – the healing words, the comforting words, the reconciling words, the words of faith and hope – stick deep in the back of our throats, or remain stubbornly silent, too elusive, too fragile, too uncertain to be spoken aloud.

And yet that question, “Who do you say that I am?” continues to echo down through the ages from the hills of Galilee. It lingers in the air of a refugee camp in the Sudan. It shouts from a hospital bed in Leesburg, or a half-way house in the Bronx or nursing home in Palm Beach. It calls to us from a tunnel in Gaza, from an empty kibbutz in Israel, from a burned-out village in Nigeria, or a soup kitchen in Wildwood. From a neighborhood across the globe to one just around the corner and down the street.

Who do you say that I am?

The question arises when good men and women die, when families grieve, when hearts are broken when trust is betrayed. When it’s not a beautiful day in The Villages, who do we say Christ is? Is He still the Messiah, the son of the living God?

After Jesus asked that question, he turned to the crowd and told them:

“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.  For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it” [Mk 8:34-35].

For that grieving family standing at the graveside, for the woman just diagnosed with cancer, for the man who unexpectedly loses his job…these words of Jesus are hard words to hear. For so many, isn’t life itself burden enough?

But in truth, only the cross can bear the full weight of human suffering. Only the cross contains the promise that death is not the final word. Only the cross offers real hope in the midst of the world’s despair. Just watch the news, folks, and see the chaos and hatred. 

Do we accept and believe this truth even when our world is crumbling and the path ahead seems so uncertain? Not if our lives reflect a double standard. How can we be Christians and yet have the same values as the rest of society? We can’t.

Sisters and brothers, we are surrounded by a Godless culture, a culture of death. As Jesus prayed to the Father:

I gave them your word, and the world hated them, because they do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world [Jn 17:14].

Do we belong to the world, or do we belong to Jesus Christ?

How can we be Christians if our primary concerns are with material plenty, professional success, great careers for our children and grandchildren? Oh, it’s a full-time job just "saving" our lives, just locking in our security, isn’t it?.

But then Jesus tells us that to be really free, we must let it go, stop clinging. He tells us to give and not to grab, to share and not to hoard, to choose life at every stage, from conception until natural death. To see others as brothers and sisters, not as rivals and competitors. He tells us to love others, to reach out to them, not to guard against them.

Who do you say that I am?  he asks us, every day.

In the end, though, the question doesn’t call for an answer in words; no, it demands a decision; it demands action. Words are easy, aren’t they? Recall what James told us in our 2^nd reading.

"Go in peace…Oh, and if you have no bread, well, don’t worry, God will provide.”

"Sorry, I can't help you now, I’m on my way to Mass."

"Oh, yes, I can imagine how difficult it must be to be homeless. I'll pray for you."

No, Jesus doesn’t want just words; He wants a decision, a decision to pick up our cross, to help others carry theirs, and to follow Him together…for He’s the only one who knows the way…the way home.

God love you.