The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Sunday, February 28, 2021

Sessionless Bible Study

For 15 or 16 years I've facilitated our parish Bible Study and must admit, it's been a joyful experience. But because of this pesky, and too often deadly, virus, we've been unable to come together in our weekly sessions. I'm not certain when we last met, but it must have been sometime in February or March of 2020 -- far too long ago.

Our Bible Study program, which began with fewer than a dozen active participants, grew steadily over the years and eventually included approximately 100 people. As you might imagine, because of the numbers, we had to offer more than one weekly session. When our initial Wednesday morning session had grown to about 30, I added a second session, on Wednesday evening, so participants could take their pick. This just attracted more participants and within several years, we added a third session, offering it on Monday afternoons. We were truly blessed with so many parishioners thirsting for God's Word...and then COVID came along and our meetings stopped completely. This was not a difficult decision due to the demographics of our parish. Most of us live in The Villages, a very large retirement community here in central Florida and our ages place us in a category most vulnerable to the virus and its worst effects. 

At first, not realizing how long this "new normal" would be with us, I thought we could just take a hiatus for a few months and then restart everything, perhaps in the fall of 2020. It didn't take long to realize that wouldn't happen. So I considered options. There were too many participants to offer Zoom meetings -- anyhow, just the thought of running a half-dozen or more Zoom meetings each week made me physically ill. I therefore considered other options, ways to keep the participants reading and thinking about Sacred Scripture. I finally decided on a distinctly low-tech approach and simply wrote a weekly reflection, really a kind of homily (a bit longish, perhaps) that I could email to our Bible Study regulars. I usually chose a Bible passage and attempted to apply it our current situation. These reflections seemed to be fairly well-received, so the parish suggested that I make videos of these reflections, which would be made available to all parishioners (and others) by uploading them to YouTube. I've now written 30 reflections and recorded videos of 24. I'll probably record a few more this week.

But as time went on, and I began to have hope that things might return to a state where we can again meet, I thought I'd better refocus my efforts and alter what I send to my Bible Study regulars. For years I have written what I call "Bible Study Guides," which address particular books of Scripture. Each offers only a basic introduction to a book, or portion of a book, and is designed to give participants a little background before we begin our in-depth coverage in our weekly sessions. About three weeks ago, I decided to try to write a new study guide (or revise and enlarge an existing one) and email them to all participants. When we get together once again, we can use these books as a good starting point. 

I decided, for reasons I cannot articulate, to focus on the 12 minor prophets...or at least a few of them. The first three study guides look at Amos, Micah, and Habakkuk. Amos was a rewrite of my Study Guide #7, originally written probably a dozen years ago. Micah (#39) and Habakkuk (#40) are both new.

If you're interested in reading them, here are links to PDF files of each:

Amos -- Micah -- Habakkuk

All other study guides, as well as those COVID reflections are available on the documents page of my Bible Study site: 

Bible Study Documents

I got a wee bit upset with YouTube because of its acquiescence to the rampant cancel culture, so I retaliated by canceling my personal YouTube pages and put my own videos on Rumble.com. You can access them there should you feel a need for penance.  Links to all my stuff are on the home page of my Bible Study website: 

Bible Study Home Page


The parish still maintains its YouTube site since it would be very hard for them to change given the number of folks who access parish videos.

Anyway, I hope those of you who read this blog will take time this Lent to increase your reading of the Bible to deepen your relationship with God and His Word.

 

Homily: 2nd Sunday of Lent - Year B

 Readings: Gn 22:1-2,9-13,15-18;Ps 116; Rom 8:31-34; Mk 9:2-10

---------------------------

Not long ago I thought my wife’s hearing might not be what it used to be, so I decided to conduct a little test. I stood some distance behind her and said softly, “Diane, can you hear me.” Getting no answer, I moved closer and again asked, “Diane, can you hear me?” Again having received no answer, I moved right up behind her and said softly, “Diane, can you hear me?” And that’s when I finally heard her say, “For the third time, Yes!”

Well, that’s pretty much how you and I communicate with God. We’re so intent on making sure He’s listening to us, that He doesn’t miss all those needs and wants we’re always placing before Him, that we neglect the more important task: We fail to listen to Him. We forget, or simply can’t believe, that God hears our every prayer, that He knows our every need. Not only does God hear us, but He also speaks to us…and He does so definitively.

We need only listen, listen as the Father commanded us. That’s right, twice in the gospels the Father speaks aloud regarding Jesus. At Jesus’ Baptism the Father said:

This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.

As Jesus begins His ministry that culminates in His death and resurrection, and in our salvation, we learn that the Father sent Him to become one of us; that He is Emmanuel, God with us. Yes, the Father states unequivocally, that He is well pleased with His Son: this Jesus, My Son, has met all My demands for holiness, for righteousness, for goodness. What greater statement could God have made about His Son?

And then, in today’s Gospel passage, the Father again speaks aloud:

This is my beloved Son; listen to him.

With these words we are given our primary responsibility as disciples of Jesus.

Listen to Him.

It’s a simple message, for God never complicates, He always simplifies. Simple but profound, God’s message isn’t obscured by some long to-do list of responsibilities and behavioral expectations; rather, it consists of one, simple command, “Listen to him.” For this is the essence of discipleship, and it hasn’t changed since the days of Abraham.

I can remember as a child -- I think I was about seven years old -- being fascinated by our family Bible. Every week my father would open it up, read aloud whatever passage happened to interest him that day, and then discuss it with us. To be honest, I was probably more interested in the remarkable illustrations in our Bible.

One in particular both fascinated and terrified me. It was a brilliantly clear picture of an old man forcibly holding the body of a young boy against a stone altar. Even more disturbing was the large knife in the man’s hand, a knife pointed straight at the boy. That painting, by Caravaggio, was my introduction to Abraham and Isaac, and the caption beneath it consisted of a single word: “Ready!”

I remember thinking, ready for what? And so I asked my father, and he said, “Ready to sacrifice his son.” Well, that certainly didn’t help; nor was it very reassuring. I asked more questions and received more puzzling answers that pretty much boiled down to: “Because God asked Abraham to do it, and because Abraham loved God.”

It was all very confusing. I also found myself looking at my father a little differently, wondering if God might ask him to do what He’d asked Abraham. Eventually, though, I came to realize that Abraham and Isaac were a kind of special case.

God might not test us as He tested Abraham, but He still wanted us to listen, to obey, to be ready. Yes, Abraham loved and trusted God so deeply, He believed in God so faithfully, that he was ready to do whatever God asked of him. And God, seeing Abraham’s readiness, provided the ram to be sacrificed in place of Isaac. Years later, I learned that this readiness to do God’s will is the mark of the true disciple.

Brothers and sisters, in today’s Gospel passage, they apostles are generations away from Abraham, on another mountain where they encounter another who is ready. Peter, James and John follow their Master up its slopes, separating themselves from the world.

On that mountaintop Jesus gives them a glimpse of what is to come, a glimpse of the promise they don’t yet understand, a glimpse of God, of eternity – and they see it all through Jesus. Standing in His glory with Moses and Elijah, Jesus is fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets.

There was no caption explaining that scene for the apostles, but maybe Peter was starting to get the picture. Maybe deep down he’d come to realize another Biblical sacrifice was about to be offered. Like Isaac, another Son would carry his own wood of sacrifice up yet another hill.

Unable to grasp this fully, Peter is overwhelmed by the moment: Let’s build tents and just stay here forever. It’s so good to be here. But to be content with the present is not a statement of readiness, is it? It’s a statement of complacency. And complacency isn’t the mark of the disciple.

To help Peter and the others understand this, God speaks, and Peter hears the voice of God, the voice that causes a healthy fear:

This is my beloved Son – listen.

In this Lenten season, as we page through our history as a people…as we are presented each week with the stories of God’s faithfulness…as we picture the scenes and try to understand the captions God writes beneath them…as we do all these things, let’s remember what we’re called to do: to listen and to be ready to act.

Will we listen to Jesus as he speaks to us in so many ways: through the Gospel; through the Church; through each other?

But are we ready, ready to act, ready to sacrifice? We’re asked to make only one sacrifice: total dedication to God – to be ready to serve Him always.

Ready to listen and respond to His call.

Ready to put sin behind us.

Ready to name grace when we see it.

Ready to love the unloved.

Ready to defend Christ and His Church in the public square.

Ready to challenge the world when it turns its back on Christ, when it embraces not life but death.

Here lies the very essence of our Christian spirituality: having hearts and minds spiritually tuned to hear what God is telling us. These days of Lent should be our listening time.

Days begun with a moment of quietness, a moment when we pray young Samuel’s simple prayer: Speak Lord, your servant is listening.

Days when we look for God and His message in life’s simple experiences and our encounters with others.

Days that end with a moment of thanksgiving.

Do we thank God for the love that gave us our very being?

Do we thank Him for the sacrifice that promises us eternal life?

Do we thank Him for each other?

Brothers and sisters, the Father who spared Isaac’s life, spared nothing in sacrificing His own Son.

You and I are asked to do no less. But are we ready?

 

Wednesday, February 24, 2021

Homily: Eucharistic Adoration

Readings: Jas 3:13-18; Psalm 122; John 14:23-29

Listening to St. James is always a bit of an awakening. He certainly didn’t pull any punches. His Letter is filled with wonderful truths about living our faith; but when reading this passage, I was especially struck by his words, “…in the humility that comes from wisdom” [Jas 3:13].

I'm pretty sure He's telling us that wisdom means having a true sense of the reality of things. And perhaps the greatest of all realities is the vast difference between us and the God who created us. Recognizing this difference can do nothing but fill us with humility. Yes, indeed, humility comes from wisdom, the acceptance of God’s greatness and our seeming insignificance.

And yet, our God created us in love…

He wants us to spend an eternity with Him, out of love…

He humbled Himself to become one of us, out of love…

He blesses us with His greatest gift, the gift of Himself in the Eucharist…again, out of love.

And as St. James reminds us, the fruit of it all is God’s peace, a peace that frees us from anxiety and fear.

Of course, we hear much the same from Jesus.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid” [Jn 14:17], He told the Apostles – a message for all of us.

Are you afraid? If so, you're in good company. The apostles were certainly afraid and confused.

Jesus spoke to them about His death, His execution at the hands of His enemies. In our passage from John, we can almost sense their confusion. 

If He’s the Son of God, one with the Father, how can this happen? How would they cope without Him? Would they also be arrested and executed? Yes, they were afraid, and fear undermined their faith. They began to doubt. 

These fears remained, throughout Jesus' Passion and Death, and even after His Resurrection. Only with the arrival of the promised Holy Spirit on Pentecost did their fears evaporate, replaced by God's peace.

“Peace is my farewell to you; my peace is my gift to you” [Jn 14:27].

And, yes, God’s peace is so very different from the peace the world offers.

For God doesn’t promise the absence of war or conflict. His peace doesn’t free us from suffering or persecution, from pain or illness. It’s not the peace of a tranquil life, nor is it peace of mind.

This is the peace the world promises, always unfulfilling, superficial, misleading, ephemeral, and unjust.

It’s not the peace Jesus gives us. How did He put it?

“Not as the world gives do I give it to you” [Jn 14:27].

Because the peace that Jesus promises completely transcends anything the world can offer us.

Victor Frankl, an Austrian psychotherapist who died in 1997, spent much of World War II as a prisoner in Auschwitz and other death camps.

Frankl, a Jew, wrote a book of his experiences called, “Man's Search for Meaning.”

In it he describes how, in the midst of brutality and degradation, he encountered so much remarkable faith and unselfish love.

Amazed by those who had achieved victory over the sinfulness that surrounded them, Frankl had a revelation. He wrote:

“Then I grasped…The salvation of man is through love and in love.

For the first time in my life, I was able to understand the meaning of the words, ‘The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.’”

Yes, in the midst of the horror that was Auschwitz, Victor Frankl had encountered God’s peace. 

This is the peace proclaimed by Christ, a peace that is achieved by victory over sin, something that comes only through the power of God.

The basis of peace, the peace of soul Jesus promises, is God and God alone.

And the very soul of peace is love, which comes only from the love of God and expresses itself through us in our love for others.

Only by turning to God can we rid our lives of all that is driven by selfishness and greed, by hatred and bitterness. For whatever takes away God’s peace from your soul cannot come from God.

Only by turning to God can we replace the evil in our lives with love for God and neighbor, with forgiveness, with the will to help others, and the desire to share the Good News of Jesus Christ.

The secret of peace? Trust, trust in the will of God.

Too often we trust only in ourselves. We think we can achieve peace in our lives by our own efforts, but in doing so we become only like the Pharisees.

How different are the saints…who sought only to love and serve God.

For the saints knew that one doesn’t become a saint. It is God who makes saints…out of sinners who trust in Him and accept His will for them.

No saint ever had a plan to become a saint. Had this been the case, he would have become only a perfectionist, not a saint.

Brothers and sisters, we can possess the peace of Christ, a fruit of the Holy Spirit, but only if God’s Spirit lives within us.

As Jesus promises us:

"If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him" [Jn 14:23].

And that’s exactly what our loving God does when we receive Him worthily in the Eucharist.

When God dwells within you, there’s no room for anything else, no room for anything but God's peace – and certainly no room for fear.

Fear never comes from God. To escape it simply turn to our Lord in total trust.

And remember, wherever Jesus is, so too is the Holy Spirit – with us to guide us, strengthen us, encourage us, just as He guides, strengthens, and encourages the Church.

Anyway, what is there to fear when you have been promised eternal life?

As St. Paul tells us again and again, Christ – and only Christ – is our peace [Eph 2:14].

 

Saturday, February 20, 2021

Timely and Saintly Words

Struggling as so many are, dealing month after month with pandemic restrictions and separation from others, I thought perhaps we all needed some words of encouragement and even redirection. It's easy to become a bit too inward-focused as we live out this odd cocoon-like existence and find ourselves actually looking forward to Face-time calls and Zoom meetings. Yes, indeed, we could all use some words to lift up our hearts and turn those same hearts to the Lord.

Here are a few comments by saintly men and women who managed to live extraordinary lives despite the difficult challenges they faced.

“Bodily suffering makes wicked souls miserable, but borne with fortitude it purifies souls that are good.” - St. Augustine

“Make sickness itself a prayer.” - St. Francis de Sales

“He causes his prayers to be of greater advantage to himself, who offers prayer also for others.” - Pope St. Gregory I

“God’s will is as much in sickness as in health.” - St. Francis de Sales

“Rise, let us be on our way!” - St. John Paul II

“Let us throw ourselves into God’s arms, and be sure that if He wants something from us, He will give us the strength to do everything He wants us to.” - St. Philip Neri

“Nothing can happen to me that God doesn't want. And all that He wants, no matter how bad it may appear to us, is really for the best.” - St. Thomas More

"Let the brothers ever avoid appearing gloomy, sad, and clouded, like the hypocrites; but let one ever be found joyous." - St. Francis of Assisi

“It does us much good, when we suffer, to have friendly hearts whose echo responds to our suffering.” - St. Thérèse of Lisieux

"Imagine yourself always to be the servant of all, and look upon all as if they were Christ our Lord in person; and so shall you do Him honor and reverence." - St. Teresa of Jesus

“He prays best who does not know that he is praying.” – St. Anthony of the Desert

“God allows failure but does not want discouragement.” - St. Teresa of Calcutta

“Don’t become discouraged. I have seen you fight ... Your defeat today is training for the final victory.” - St. Josemaría Escrivá

“Joy, study and piety: this is the best program to make you happy, and is the one that will most benefit your soul.” - St. John Bosco

“True love is hidden in the depths of the virtues, and manifests itself in any adversity.” - St. John of the Cross

“It is proper of faith to make us humble in happy events and unperturbed in setbacks.” - St. Clare of Assisi

“Have great confidence in God: His mercy is infinitely greater than our weakness.” - St. Margaret Mary Alacoque

"Humility is the mother of salvation." -- St. Bernard

"There is no love without hope, no hope without love, and neither hope nor love without faith." -- St. Augustine

 Faith over fear! God's peace.



Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Bible Study Reflection #30: Wheat and Weeds

Once again, it’s back to the Gospel. This time we’ll take a look at one of Jesus’ Kingdom of Heaven parables in the Gospel According to Matthew. Our reading actually includes several of these parables, but today we’ll focus only on the first, the parable of the wheat and the weeds. I realize Jesus doesn’t specify that the farmer in the parable is growing wheat, but I’ve always like the alliteration of the words, “wheat and weeds,” so I’ll continue to make that assumption.

Before we begin our reflection, then, please open your Bible, turn to Chapter 13 of Matthew and read Matthew 13:24-43. I’ve included the passage on Page 5.

_______________________

How many sinners do we have out there? Okay, you all know the answer to that one: we’re all sinners, even those who think they’re saints. In fact, this parable of the wheat and the weeds was aimed particularly at sinners who sometimes forget they’re sinners.

Notice that our Gospel passage ends with Jesus saying, “Whoever has ears ought to hear” [Mt 13:43]. I suppose He’s telling us: “Listen up! What I have to say about all this sinfulness and saintliness is pretty important stuff.” So, let’s take a closer look at this parable and at Jesus’ explanation of it. Perhaps, then, we can correct our own inflated opinions of ourselves.

First of all, let’s you and I take on the role of one of the slaves. Now it’s not easy being a slave, always having to do what you’re told, even when you don’t understand or don’t agree with the master and his orders. But, in this instance, even though we’re slaves, we’re fortunate to have a good and caring master, one who even allows us to question what we don’t understand.

Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where have the weeds come from? [Mt 13:27]

The master explains that his enemy has tried to sabotage His work by planting weeds, by seeding the field with that which will damage the wheat and lessen the harvest.

Jesus, opening up the parable for the disciples, tells them:

He who sows good seed is the Son of Man, the field is the world, the good seed the children of the kingdom. The weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sows them is the devil [Mt 13:37-38].

…a pretty straightforward explanation, isn’t it? And the slaves, presumably, are the disciples (that’s us), those who must do the work of the master. Being good disciples, they want to do what they believe is best. Unlike those evil sinners, the saintly sinners want to make things right. They want to go out into the field right away and just rip out all those weeds, along with anything else that might get in the way.

So, there we are, you and I, God’s saintly, sinful slaves, telling Him to turn us loose and we’ll solve all His problems. Let us do it now! We’re the good guys, the good and decent people; we’re the righteous ones; we’re the ones with ears to hear.

Just look at all those weeds! What did Jesus call them? “Children of the evil one” [Mt 13:38]. You see them in the newspapers, on the web, and on TV. Why, it’s downright embarrassing. Their conduct, their ethics, their morality could hardly be any lower. And they’re out there committing all these shameful sins right there in front of God and everyone, setting a horrible example to the rest of us. There’s certainly no room for people like that in His Church. And look at the world. The weeds are taking over. Evil’s on a rampage. This can’t be the kind of world God wants. We have to do something!

It's tempting, isn't it, sometimes dangerously and tragically so, to desire a perfect world, to think that, if humanity got its act together, we could eradicate evil and create a world without imperfections. At least that’s what the politicians and the ideologues tell us. How ironic that our very imperfections cause us to think this way. And so, we end up turning the imperfect into the evil, while we hide all the real evils behind curtains of political and ideological correctness.

Abort the unwanted, purge the inconvenient, eliminate the undesirables, execute the criminals, cleanse the world of everything and everyone that’s imperfect. These, along with so many others, are the world’s solutions; they’re certainly not God’s.

God’s will is so very different, His ways so far from ours. How did He put it to Isaiah:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways – oracle of the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, my thoughts higher than your thoughts [Is 55:8-9].

In His divine wisdom He orders us to refrain from judging and purging, for He has a different plan for the salvation of humanity. He tells us to do something that from a human perspective seems downright foolish, but He insists.

“No weeding,” He orders, “not now. I’ll wait instead for the harvest, and then I’ll do the separating, not you. I will decide between wheat and weeds.”

“But there are so many weeds in the world today,” we complain, “so much evil, right here, right now — can’t we do something; can’t we do anything?”

And God says, “Yes, first of all, you can trust in Me. And you can do something else, but not the something you’d like to do, not the human something. I will judge,” He tells us, “because only I can see into the heart of each man and woman, only I can ensure a perfect yield from the harvest.”

We’ve been given a different job. “Go make disciples of all nations” [Mt 28:19], He commanded his disciples, which includes you and me. Until the harvest time we are to preach the gospel of repentance to the world…and to ourselves. And that, brothers and sisters, is hard for us to take. Why can’t we do some of that judging, that purging? Aren’t we the good ones, the holy ones?

Okay, maybe we’re not always that good or that holy. Maybe we don’t spend very much time immersed in God’s Word or deepening our prayer life – assuming we even have a prayer life. But we’re busy people and t’s hard work trying to get ahead in this world.

Maybe our faith isn’t always as alive and vibrant as it should be. Maybe our children and grandchildren, our neighbors and friends, haven’t always seen our faith witnessed in the way we live. Maybe we don’t spend much time and effort feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, welcoming the stranger, caring for and visiting the ill and the imprisoned. After all, I’ve got problems too. And I take responsibility for them; why can’t they?

Maybe we occasionally ignore those Church teachings we don’t agree with, those teachings on faith and morals and justice that are downright inconvenient. Oh, but we do attend Mass every week…well, most weeks anyway. That must count for something.

Yes, Jesus’ teaching can be a real stumbling block for us, can’t it? Much better and far more comforting to think there are just two kinds of people in the world: the real sinners – you know, the ones you see on the covers of the supermarket tabloids – and the rest of us, those of us who hardly sin at all, or whose sins are small. The bad and the pretty good. The outsiders – that’s them – and the insiders – that’s us. Those who have ears to hear and those who just refuse to listen. Those who will make it to heaven and those who won’t.

Yes, it’s easy to begin to think that way. And it’s a mistake that’s been around a long time. Back in the 4th Century there was a widespread heresy called Donatism that claimed the good seed in this parable referred to the members of the Church, and so by definition there could be no weeds, no sinners, in the Church. They believed the Church could be composed only of good people; the rest of the world was simply evil. They were a bit like the Pharisees of Jesus’ time.

It took a St. Augustine to correct them, explaining that neither humanity nor the Church can be divided into children of light and children of darkness. We still hear echoes of this ancient heresy among some Christian groups who preach a kind of exclusivity: “Are you saved? If you’re one of us, you’re OK...otherwise…well, sorry but you’re condemned.”

St. Augustine, of course, was right. We all have both light and darkness within us – the wheat and the weeds growing together. The Church, you see, is really a kind of hospital, where we can be spiritually healed and made ready for our eternal journey. It’s a place where sinners grow and change by God's grace. That growth in grace may be agonizingly slow, like grain hidden in the soil, waiting to be watered, waiting to be nourished. But in its slowness, it also imitates the patience of God. For Jesus teaches that there’s still time, there’s always time, up until the very last moment of our lives.

Of course, for those of us in the winter of our lives, it makes sense to heed the words of St. Paul:

I tell you, brothers, the time is running out…for the world in its present form is passing away” [1 Cor 7:29,31].

Just as our lives, too, are passing away.

I recall reading an article about a young gang member from a broken family — no role models, no education, no opportunities, no hope, no future. One fateful day, in a fit of uncontrolled rage, he fatally stabbed his social worker, the one person who was trying to help him. Convicted of murder, he was sent to prison for life. Now middle-aged, he’s repented, sought forgiveness from his victim’s family, finished college, and was baptized and confirmed. He’ll remain in prison because that’s where man’s justice will keep him. But today he’s nothing like the violent young man he once was and can no longer be counted among the weeds. Who would have predicted this outcome? Nobody but Jesus Himself.

As Paul reminds us, the Lord turns all things to good for those who love Him [Rom 8:28]. And so, brothers and sisters, there’s good news for us in this Gospel — really good news. We won’t be struck by lightning the moment we sin, for God responds patiently and lovingly.

How blessed we are that we can look back, recognize our past sinfulness, and be forgiven in the sacrament of Reconciliation.

How blessed we are that God is patient, that He gives us time to change, time to make amends.

If we’re truly honest with ourselves and with God, most of us will admit that we were once weeds, and some of us that we’re still weeds. We try to hide our secrets, our sinfulness, because we’re ashamed of what we’ve done. We struggle to trust others because we can hardly trust ourselves. We play games with the truth, and too easily separate our words from our actions. And there are days when we slip back into our weed-like behavior. The result, quite simply, is that it’s hard to tell the wheat from the weeds.

If you look carefully, you can find the weeds in yourself and in others. And so, we remain sinners living among sinners. But the time will come when the sorting of the weeds from the wheat will be absolute, decisive, and final. Make no mistake about it: We will all be judged. But that judgment belongs to the master alone, not to the servants. God is in charge, not us, and His judgment is nothing at all like ours -- something for which we should be especially grateful. God is both just and merciful. He’s eager to forgive and to provide us with the grace we need to overcome our sinfulness and do His will in the world. We need only ask. Yes, He’s willing to wait for our repentance, to wait until the very last moment, for His patience is almost inexhaustible. And we can thank God for that.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever.


Friday, February 12, 2021

St. Bernadette's Prayer

Yesterday I was asked by our local Marian Servants of the Word Incarnate to give a brief reflection during their online Zoom meeting. My reflection was (I think) well-received, but I was touched by the comments and questions of these women who have dedicated their lives to serving our Lord and His people. 

I'm not a regular user of Zoom -- this was just my 2nd Zoom event -- so it proved to be an interesting experience for me. I was suitably impressed, and given the times and the health concerns we must deal with today, Zoom turns out to be a remarkably effective way to "get together" without really getting together. Of course, it is only a weak substitute for meeting in community...Soon we hope we can come together again in worship, prayer, and fellowship.

Anyway, yesterday, February 11, was the Memorial of Our Lady of Lourdes who appeared to the young St. Bernadette in 1858. Since then these appearances have led to countless healings in the waters of the spring that arose during those apparitions, something that has particular meaning for our world today as so many look to God for healing. 

Before our meeting as I pondered this feast, I recalled having once encountered a prayer written by St. Bernadette, a prayer that revealed the saint's deep humility. I managed to find it again, so I thought it would be good to repeat it here:

______________

Prayer of St. Bernadette

O Jesus, give me I pray

the bread of humility,

the bread of obedience,

the bread of charity,
the bread of strength to break my will, and make it one with yours,
the bread of patience to bear the pain my heart endures,
the bread to see you and you alone in all things and always!

I put my hope in you, Lord. 

Be my house of refuge because you are my strength.

________________

In is simplicity, its selflessness, its expression of deep faith, and its complete focus on serving the Lord, it is truly a beautiful prayer. But it also shows us how this young saint took those words of Jesus' prayer -- "Give us this day our daily bread" -- and opened them to address all the needs of our lives.

Our Lady of Lourdes, pray for us.

 

Wednesday, February 10, 2021

Homily: Monday 5th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Gn 1:1-19 • Ps 104 • Mk 6:53-56

____________________

I was all grumbly for a few weeks because they ran out of vaccine and canceled my vaccine date. Diane looked at me, shook her head and said, “And you’re the one always telling others not to worry, so let’s just pray that God’s will be done.” That's what we did and within a week they told us to pick a date, and we got our shots last Wednesday.

God is present, folks, always present, always here with us. We certainly see this in today's readings -- readings that cover it all.

First, we’re taken back to the very beginning of time and space: “In the beginning, God…”

Yes, those four words that begin the Book of Genesis are really enough, and tell us that in the beginning it was only God. He needed nothing. He certainly didn’t need creation. His creative act resulted from His free will, a will that desired to make creatures who would share in His divine life. Quite simply, the world was made in an act of love for the glory of God. As we read in the Book of Revelation:

“Worthy are you, Lord our God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things; because of your will they came to be and were created” [Rev 4:11].

Creation, then, is a remarkable act of love that sets the stage for all that follows. God speaks His Word and Creation happens. Have you ever considered how Eucharistic that is?

That’s right, when Jesus, the Incarnate Word,  speaks, “This is my Body…This is my Blood,” wonderful things happen…and He is here, in a very Real Presence, another manifestation of God’s ongoing creative love.

And it’s in the Gospel where we encounter that Incarnational love in a very personal way. There we see the Word bringing His healing power to us, awakening us to the reality of God’s Presence, for it’s always a healing Presence.

Mark takes us along the Sea of Galilee to Gennesaret where we encounter a people who could hardly contain themselves. How did Mark put it? Having recognized Jesus, they “scurried about the surrounding country” to bring the sick to Jesus, wherever He was.

Can you picture that? Dozens of people, perhaps hundreds, carrying the sick and disabled, leading the blind and the deaf, the roads and footpaths filled with those in need of healing. Wherever he went – every town, every little village – He found the sick laid out in the town square, just waiting for His healing Presence – a word, a touch.

According to Mark the ill sought only to touch his clothing -- this was enough to bring healing. Their faith, their trust in Jesus’ healing Presence was all it took. That and the infectious faith of those who carried them to Jesus.

It is the same deep faith we encounter in the 20th century saint, St. Josephine Bakhita, whose memorial we celebrate today. A remarkable woman – an African from the Sudan, she was born in 1869, kidnapped at 12 by Arab slave traders. She spent years in slavery, bought and sold frequently, and often treated horribly by those who enslaved her.

A long torturous path led her to Italy and the convent of the Canossian Daughters of Charity in the town of Schio, near Venice. From the sisters she learned of Jesus Christ, and was baptized, received First Communion and Confirmation, all on the same day by Cardinal Sarto of Venice, who would go on to become Pope St. Pius X.

Lovingly known by the people of Schio as their Black Mother, she often prayed for her kidnappers, and thanked them publicly. Had she not been kidnapped, she might never have come to know Jesus Christ and entered His Church. In World War II, the townspeople regarded her as their protector, and although bombs fell on their village, not one citizen died.

During her painful, final illness she remained ever cheerful, happy to suffer for the good of others: “As the Master desires,” she would say. She knew exactly what Paul means when he said, “All things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose” [Rom 8:28] She died on this day in 1947, so she’s a kind of contemporary to many of us who were born while she was still alive.

I think of St. Josephine and the people of Gennesaret and my own petty troubles just melt away into insignificance. 

Like St. Josephine, are we filled with joy because of the Real Presence of our Lord, Jesus Christ? The Eucharist, too, is a healing Presence, just like Jesus’ Presence in the towns of Galilee. Do you come here today with the assurance that God will heal you in ways you can never imagine?

Do you “scurry about” like the people of Gennesaret looking for others in need of healing, telling them about Jesus’ Eucharistic Presence, His healing Presence?

Maybe it’s time we all did a little scurrying, and a lot less worrying.

 

Saturday, February 6, 2021

Future Gulags - Part III

I could go on and on writing about Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago and its remarkable blend of the historical and the prophetic, but you need only open the book yourself, give it a read, and measure his portrayal of the reality of Soviet socialism against the guile and hatred expressed by today's leftists who, like their Soviet mentors, crave power above all else. You don't need me to point this out.

But because I'm on kind of a roll, in this last post on the subject I'll just leave you with a few more of Solzhenitsyn's observations that particularly struck me as I reread the book over 40 years after my first reading. 

The Usefulness of the Mob. Let me begin by starting a truth about the lack of truth: the left must always lie. In fact, the lie is perhaps their primary rhetorical tool. Because their ideas are bankrupt and have led consistently to failure, the left cannot justify or even support them through rational argument or in a debate. And so, they lie. They lie repeatedly and loudly, and they do so in concert; i.e., they all join in to ensure we all hear it. Bombarded with the lie from every direction, the uninformed and unthinking begin to believe it.

Stalin realized the mob could be useful in spreading the lie, because the mob, all screaming the same thing, provided a public legitimacy to useful lies. To this end his minions created mobs to storm the streets and shout the lie.

Solzhenitsyn offers an example related to the famines that struck the Russian people and led to so many deaths. Of course, the famines resulted directly from Stalin's policies, but that truth could not be admitted. He, therefore, found convenient scapegoats, and before the predetermined court verdict mobs were formed:

The workers and employees wrathfully voted for the death penalty for the scoundrels on trial. And by the time of the Promparty trail, there were universal meetings and demonstrations (including even schoolchildren). It was the newspaper march of millions, and the roar rose outside the windows of the courtroom: "Death! Death! Death!" [GA, p. 48]

Yes, the people demand it! And the "newspaper march" indicates how useful it can be for those in power when they also control every media outlet.

Today many of our cities continue to be plagued by the rule of the mob, mobs of Antifa and Black Lives Matter supporters, a mob that strikes fear into the hearts of weak, leftist officials. And so, these mayors and governors dishonestly label the mob's destruction and murder as "peaceful protest" and then cave to their demands. The media, of course, ignores it all because the chaos comes from the left. It wasn't until the January 6 debacle at the Capitol that the media rose to the occasion and sharpened its pens to attack the rightist wackos who accomplished nothing. But the left and the media screamed: "Insurrection!" These "Trumpers" were obviously planning to overthrow the government. Exactly how they could accomplish this has never been explained. 

I guess mobs are handy things, but it really depends on whose mob it is.

Crush Them All. Solzhenitsyn, in a masterful description of Article 58 of the Criminal Code of 1926 [GA, p. 60-67], shows his readers how this all-encompassing code could, in effect, convict anyone of anything or of nothing. For example, the interpretation of Section 10 of Article 58 was particularly broad. It stated:

Propaganda or agitation, containing an appeal for the overthrow, subverting, or weakening of the Soviet power...and equally the dissemination or preparation or possession of literary materials of similar content [GA p. 66].

In describing Section 10's application, we are told:

The scope of "agitation containing an appeal" was enlarged to include face-to-face conversation between friends or even between husband and wife, or a private letter. The word "appeal" could mean personal advice...  "Subverting and weakening" the government could include any idea which did not coincide with or rise to the level of intensity of the ideas expressed in the newspaper on any particular day. After all, anything which does not strengthen must weaken..."preparation of literary materials" covered every letter, note, or private diary...Thus, happily expanded, what thought was there, whether merely in the mind, spoken aloud, or jotted down, which was not covered by Section 10 [GA, p. 66].

Interestingly, Article 58 also treated the murder of a Party activist far more seriously than the murder of an ordinary citizen. Solzhenitsyn explains:

If a husband killed his wife's lover, it was very fortunate for him if the victim turned out not to be a Party member; he would be sentenced under Article 136 as a common criminal, who was a "social ally" and didn't require an armed escort. But if the lover turned out to have been a Party member, the husband became an enemy of the people with a 58-8 sentence [Article 58, Section 8 would likely result in execution instead of receiving a 10-year prison sentence. GA p.65]

Solzhenitsyn sums it well up by quoting the poet Vladimir Mayakovsky:

        And he who sings not with us today

            is against

                        us!

They go on to arrest the innocent, especially those who innocently speak the truth. Indeed, the very concept of guilt or innocence are "out of date concepts" that mean absolutely nothing. It's all related to the "social prophylaxis" mentioned in my previous post (Future Gulags -- Part II). One wasn't arrested for what one had done, but for what one might do. At the end of World War II, those Soviet citizens who had lived under German invading forces were given 10-year sentences, just as captured Soviet soldiers who were POWs were sent to prison for at least 10 years after they were liberated. 

Solzhenitsyn also mentioned Stalin’s apparent willingness to learn from Hitler when it came to Jews. Like his other internal targets, the innocence of Jewish citizens was ignored because of their “social origin” and their religion with its international presence. To be “cosmopolitan” was to be anti-Soviet, and a crime in itself. Solzhenitsyn describes another “wave” of arrests, this time of Jews.

During the last years of Stalin's life, a wave of Jews became noticeable. (Form 1950 on they were hauled in little by little as cosmopolitanites. And that was why the doctors' case was cooked up. It would appear that Stalin intended to arrange a great massacre of the Jews.) 

But this became the first plan of his life to fail. God told him -- apparently with the help of human hands -- to depart from his rib cage [GA, p. 92].

Yes, Stalin died in 1953, probably helped along on his journey by those tired of his capriciously deadly ways. 

Sadly, those who aide and abet the ideological left forget or have never thought about all of this. Once the revolutionary left seizes power, the first ones they come after are usually the liberals, those who helped them get there. These are the most dangerous, the ones who know too much, the ones who must be silenced, must be crushed. I’ve written about this in another post (Madness Rising) describing the dozen years preceding the 1917 Revolution.

It's All About Power and Evil. Solzhenitsyn addresses the first, as the motivator, and the second, and the underlying attitude. 

Power is a poison well known for thousands of years. If only no one were ever to acquire material power over others! But to the human being who has faith in some force that holds dominion over all of us, and who is therefore conscious of his own limitations, power is not necessarily fatal. For those, however, who are unaware of any higher sphere, it is a deadly poison. For them there is no antidote [GA, p. 147].

And speaking specifically of those in the Soviet Security Services, those who had near-ultimate power over others, he writes:

You have a power over all the people in that military unit, or factory, or district, incomparably greater than that of a military commander, or factory director, or secretary of the district Communist Party.  These men control people's military or official duties, wages, reputations, but you control people's freedom [GA, p. 148].

As for the presence of evil and its perception by those captivated by it, Solzhenitsyn rejects the usual depictions of evildoers found in literature, citing Shakespeare, Dickens, and Schiller:

The trouble lies in the way these classic evildoers are pictured. They recognize themselves as evildoers...Iago very precisely identifies his purposes and his motives as being black and born of hate...Macbeth’s self-justifications were feeble — and his conscience devoured him. Yes, even Iago was a little lamb too. The imagination and spiritual strength of Shakespeare’s evildoers stopped short of a dozen corpses. Because they had no ideology. [GA, p. 173]

Rejecting these literary evildoers, Solzhenitsyn then describes the very different kind of evil driven by ideology:

But no; that’s not the way it is. To do evil a human being must first of all believe that what he’s doing is good, or else that it’s a well-considered act in conformity with natural law. Fortunately, it is in the nature of the human being to seek a justification for his actions. [GA, p.173]

Ideology — that is what gives evildoing its long-sought justification and gives the evildoer the necessary steadfastness and determination. That is the social theory which helps to make his acts seem good instead of bad in his own and others’ eyes, so that he won’t hear reproaches and curses but will receive praise and honors...Thanks to ideology, the twentieth century was fated to experience evildoing on a scale calculated in the millions. This cannot be denied, not passed over, nor suppressed. How, then, do we dare insist that evildoers do not exist? And who was it that destroyed those millions? Without evildoers there would have been no Archipelago. [GA, p. 174]

Only the ideologue can take an active part in the slaughter of millions and do so willingly and without remorse because his ideology justifies it. This is the danger of ideology, whether of the left or right. Lenin, Stalin, Hitler, Mao, Xi Jinping, Ho Chi Minh, Castro, Pol Pot, Osama bin Laden, Kim Jung-un, and so many others, including their thousands of followers, are happy to kill entire populations so long as it supports their ideological ends. Ideology permits anything. In the same way the pro-abortion zealots — who perpetrate the lie by calling themselves “pro-choice” — inevitably align politically with leftist ideologues. As I have often stated, someone who supports abortion will support absolutely any evil.

Enough! 

Read Solzhenitsyn as he describes the last century and learn about the century we’re facing today. And as you read, pray for our world and its conversion. Only the hand of God can heal us.