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.

Wednesday, August 31, 2022

Presidential Firearms

I’ll begin by admitting that like many Americans I own a few firearms. I’m not a hunter, but I enjoy target shooting thanks to a summer spent at Camp Adahi in Union, ME, back in 1954. It was there, as a 10-year-old, I first fired a gun. Several times a week we’d go to the outdoor firing range and shoot at targets with .22 rifles. I really enjoyed it, and also learned how to use firearms safely and responsibly. 

The lessons learned at Camp Adahi have served me well over the years. I realize, too, the vast majority of those who own firearms have learned these same lessons. They are law-abiding citizens who simply exercise their rights as guaranteed by the 2nd Amendment of the Bill of Rights. It’s also important to realize the 2nd Amendment wasn’t written to serve hunters and target shooters. The Founders had just fought and won a war of independence against the most powerful nation on earth. And they won because the people were armed and could fight against the army of a despotic ruler who chose tyranny over freedom. If we can learn one thing from history, it’s that tyrants always try first to disarm the people…something to remember.

Anyway, our current President speaks often of firearms, but sadly too much of what he says about them is not true. Some of these statements might result from simple ignorance since he seems to know little about guns. But other comments address information readily available, often from his own administration, and leads us to question his motives. Here are a few examples:
  • In a recent speech in Wilkes-Barre, PA, the president claimed, “Back in 1994, I took on the NRA and passed the ‘assault weapons’ ban. For ten years, mass shootings we’re down.” He then added, “Republicans let that ban expire, and what happened? Mass shootings tripled.” But both statements are incorrect. In 2004 the National Institute of Justice (NIJ) of the Department of Justice concluded that no reduction in crime could be attributed to the assault weapons ban. Indeed, the NIJ report stated, “The ban’s effects on gun violence are likely to be small at best and perhaps too small for reliable measurement.” As for the tripling of mass shootings, here's the data. There were 31 mass shootings during the decade before the ban and 31 during the decade the ban was active. During the 10 years after it expired there were 47. Yes, there was in increase, but nowhere near a tripling. The increase has been attributed not only to population growth but, sadly, also to a growing lack of respect for both the law and traditional moral standards. 
  • In the same speech President Biden also stated that “There is a mass shooting every single day in this country.” Given that the definition of a mass shooting comes from his own Department of Justice, this claim was very strange and very wrong. In truth, we experienced a total of 129 mass shootings during the 40 years between 1982 and 2022. So far this year we've had 7, and there certainly haven't been 365 during the past 12 months.  
  • Speaking in Wilkes-Barre must have an odd effect on our president. He also claimed that “The bullet out of an AR-15 travels five times as rapidly as a bullet out of any other gun.” Oh, boy, I simply can’t imagine where he got this little gem that is so wrong it’s laughable. Depending on the ammunition and the particular A-15, the muzzle velocity might be as high as 3,000 feet per second, about the same as a rifle firing .30-06 ammunition. But, believe me, there are commercial rifles with muzzle velocities well above this, even above 4,000 fps. To claim an AR-15's muzzle velocity is five times that of any other gun is just absurd.
  • The president also said, “The AR-15 just rips the body apart.” This, too, is absurd. The ammo used determines its effects and most AR ammo penetrates rather than expands, and even expandable hollow points don't “rip the body apart.”
  • He said something similar when discussing 9mm ammunition, stating that a 9mm bullet will “blow the lung out of a body” — another absurdity. No 9mm bullet will blow the lung or any other major organ out of a body. But perhaps his confusion stems from another comment he made when he labeled 9mm firearms among “high-caliber weapons.” This also is hard to understand. A 9mm round is generally a pistol round and is certainly not among the largest pistol calibers. Yes, it's larger than a .22 but smaller than a .38, or a 10mm, or a .45. And virtually every rifle round would be considered more powerful than a 9mm.
I think that’s enough, but I find myself wondering why he would say these things. The only answer I can come up with is that he’s likely speaking to true believers, those on his side anyway. And like most of those who actively support “gun control” rather than “crime control,” they know very little about firearms. The president, then, can say whatever he likes and still be believed. The mainstream media, also avid gun-control supporters, could fact-check the president, but exposing his errors would work against their narrative, so why bother? 

Sunday, August 28, 2022

Homily: Saturday, 21st Week in Ordinary Time (Year 2)

Readings: 1 Cor 1:26-31 • Psalm 33 • Matthew 25:14-30

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Today we celebrate the memorial of St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustine. She is known for her amazing patience, the depth of her prayer life, and her ability to deal with the challenges of a difficult marriage and rebellious children. Her pagan husband treated her poorly, but eventually was moved to become a Christian thanks to God's grace and Monica's kindness and patience. She also prayed for the conversion of her son, Augustine, who lived a dissolute life for many years. But after almost two decades of Monica's prayer and motherly love, God led him to the Church, where he became not only a bishop but one of our greatest theologians. St. Monica is the patron of wives, mothers, abused women, and patience.

And most interestingly for us at St. Vincent de Paul Parish, it was on her memorial eight years ago that our new church was dedicated by Bishop John Noonan...another good reason for us to celebrate today.

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I usually preach on the Gospel, but St. Paul took me captive the other day as I thought about this homily, and he brought back the memory of an old friend.

Years ago, back in my Navy days, I developed a friendship with another pilot. I was in my mid-20s and he was in his early 30s. Mel was a very competent pilot and naval officer, a man who taught me a lot. He was also an agnostic and found it hard to believe I could believe. One evening, after night flying, we stopped by the officers’ club for a beer, and got to talking about Christianity.

“Just look at the universe,” Mel said, “and how unbelievably immense it is. That you actually believe it was created by this God of yours is in itself truly amazing. But you Christians don’t stop there. You also believe this remarkable God decided to become one of us and came down to this tiny planet tucked away in a non-descript corner of the universe. And then he allowed us to kill him in a particularly brutal, savage way on a Cross. Isn’t that what you believe?”

“Well,” I agreed, “that’s certainly part of it. But you left a few things out. It was all done out of love for us, for those He created. It’s a bit like us. Why do we do what we do? Why are we willing to sacrifice our lives in this weird profession of ours? Because we love our country and think it’s worth dying for and we love our countrymen and think they’re worth saving. You see, Mel, we’re a little like God, created in His image and likeness, and at our best we come close to expressing the love He actually is.”

I really thought I had done pretty well, but Mel just shook his head and downed the rest of his beer. With that we headed back to our homes.

I lost touch with Mel years ago, so I don’t know if he ever changed his mind; but he came to my mind as I read today’s first reading. And I’m sure Mel would agree with Paul that the Cross is a sign of foolishness. How did Paul put it?

“For since in the wisdom of God the world did not come to know God through wisdom, it was the will of God through the foolishness of the proclamation to save those who have faith” [1 Cor 1:21].

But that’s not all, Paul went on to add:

“…we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles” [1 Cor 1:24].

Yes, indeed, the message of the Cross – the Creative Word of God murdered by those He created – is for many a truly foolish message, so foolish it must be believed. But not just believed, dear friends; it must also be lived.

It is the Cross that saves us eternally, for the Cross is the Tree of Life: from Eden to Calvary, from Sin to Redemption. But the Cross also saves us in the here and now. Through the foolishness of the Cross we are given purpose in life. It saves and frees us from our deepest fears, from bitterness and despair, from hatred of others and hatred of self. It brings a forgiveness that saves marriages and families, and it beings healing of body, mind, and spirit.

Believe me, the power of our God – the power of Christ’s passion, death, and Resurrection – the power of His Cross is so far beyond our understanding, that in our humanity we can’t help but underestimate it

Over the years I’ve struggled to minister in hospitals and hospice, and in my weakness have come to appreciate God’s wondrous gifts to those He draws to Himself. I’ve seen anger turn to joy, despair to hope, fear to faith – all driven by God’s enduring love, a love manifested on the Cross, a love nailed to the Cross.

Do you see how real, how very serious, the foolishness of the Cross is? The rulers of the world, those filled with worldly wisdom, always try to tear down and destroy the Cross, but they will always fail.

As Paul went on to reveal, Christ crucified is “the power of God and the wisdom of God.” It is a power and a wisdom that Satan and the world cannot comprehend; for it is a Eucharistic power and a divine wisdom.

As you receive Jesus Christ today, contemplate your crucified Lord and Savior. For through that Communion, you receive His Body sacrificed for you and His Blood poured out for the forgiveness of your sins and the sins of the world. Filled with the grace of God, we will be well-armed to wield the only weapons that matter: truth and love and justice.

Life is a wondrous gift, brothers and sisters, and God wants us to experience the joy of a life well-lived. He wants us to savor the gift of each day just as a young child does. Then, like the good servant in the Gospel, we too might hear those words: 

“Well done, my good and faithful servant…Come share your master’s joy” [Mt 25:21].

 

Thursday, August 25, 2022

Homily: Thursday, 21st Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: 1 Cor 1:1-9 Ps 145 • Mt 24:42-51

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Today we celebrate the memorials of two saints. The first is St. Louis -- or Louis IX, King of France -- one of the many great saints of the 13th century. He was also one of the few truly saintly kings, a man who cared much for his people's material and spiritual welfare. He also took an active part in the Crusades to reclaim Jerusalem and Our Lord's Tomb, a crusade that took his life.

The other saint we remember today is St. Joseph Calasanz, a saint of the 16th and 17th century who devoted his life to the education of the poor. 

We are truly blessed to to celebrate these saints today...now my homily.

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“Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ” [1 Cor 1:3].

Don’t you just love that greeting? Right there in the beginning of our reading from St. Paul. He extended it to the community of Christians, gathered together in that southern Greek city of Corinth. And what a wonderful greeting it was…really a blessing. Until now, I’ve never extended that greeting to anyone, but I think I might start using it, especially with those in spiritual need, which I guess includes all of us.

Yes…grace and peace, living signs of God’s love for us – that God wants to touch us with His grace so we can experience His peace. It’s really the only antidote, the only cure, to the anxieties and fears that plague us in this life.

How often are we truly at peace? We probably spend too much of our time regretting the things of the past or worrying about the unknowns of the future. Paul, like Jesus, is trying to get us to look at and act in the present.

“Stay awake!” Jesus commands us…certainly not yesterday, and not even tomorrow, but now! He always seems to draw our attention to the present. The past? It’s gone. We can’t change it. Oh, we can try to rewrite it, but that doesn’t change the reality. God is the only perfect historian, the only one who really knows all that has happened and why.

When Jesus addressed the past, it was usually in the sense of fulfillment, of something that had to happen to bring forth the present. As He read from the prophet Isaiah, what did He tell the people in the synagogue at Nazareth?

“Today this scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing” [Lk 4:21].

Yes, it is the present, the fulfillment of the past, to which Jesus turns our attention.

He also warned us about our obsession with the future; for the future, too, is out of our hands. God is not only the perfect historian, but He’s also the only true futurist. We Christians often forget this. Like the disciples Jesus addressed, we make lots of plans, thinking we know what’s going to happen. How did Our Lord put it?

“You do not know on which day your Lord will come” [Mt 24:42].

He then tells them to “be prepared.” If you think about it, being prepared means doing what is necessary in the present. Being prepared isn’t planning; it’s doing.

Back in my consulting days, I often had to remind company executives that developing plans was certainly a necessary aspect of their work. But to bear fruit, their plans for the future must be translated into work carried out in an ongoing, continuous present. And it was work carried out not by them, but by their employees. If they ignore their employees, or belittle their work, they might as well ignore their customers too. The quality of the work accomplished in the present always determines the level of future success.

But as we prepare, Jesus tells us how to view the short-term future:

“Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself” [Mt 6:34].

Yes, it’s the present, the next step we take, that’s important. As hope-filled Christians, then, we must think of the present as a kind of emergency. In an emergency we don’t ponder the past or think about the future; we act!

But our Christian faith isn’t a business. We don’t need a business plan to achieve salvation. Salvation’s a gift. All we need is faith lived well, and the Presence of God in the Church and its sacramental life. We don’t need a marketing plan to evangelize. We need only trust in the Holy Spirit Who, as Our Lord promised, “will teach you at that moment what you should say” [Lk 12:12]. We need not advertise. We need only bear witness and manifest the fruit of God’s unconditional love as He moves in our lives, changing us, forming us, making us His own.

“Stay awake!” Jesus commands us.

But when you go to sleep, as you must, thank God for the present, the present of the next day that will greet you when you awaken.


Wednesday, August 24, 2022

Homily: Tuesday, 21st Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: 2 Thes 2:1-3, 14-17; • Ps 96 • Mt 23:23-26

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Well…good morning, fellow hypocrites!

That’s right…we really can’t deny it. And Jesus reminds us of this. Continuing His 7 woes, He aimed His words at the Scribes and the Pharisees, but you know He’s speaking to us as well. And what words they were! Straining gnats and swallowing camels…cups full of plunder and self-indulgence…hypocrites! It must have been something to hear!

Years ago, I read something that I’ll share with you. It was from an anonymous 5th-century commentary on Matthew:

“Tell me, hypocrite, if it is so good to be good, why do you not strive to be truly what you only appear to be? And if it is so bad to be evil, then why do you allow yourself to be in truth what you would never want to appear to be? …Therefore, either be what you appear to be, or appear to be what you are.”

I always liked that. And it makes me think that the sinner, who doesn’t try to hide or cover up his sinfulness, might be treated a lot better at the judgment than the hypocrite whose outward appearance hides the sinful truth. We see it in the Church, in the clergy and in the faithful. None of us seem to be exempt.

In my last parish on Cape Cod, a retired bishop often spent the summer in our town, staying with his sister and her family. He’d also help out our parish by celebrating one of our Sunday Masses.

One Sunday morning, before the final blessing, he called a couple forward who were celebrating their 50th anniversary. They renewed their vows and then the bishop presented them to the parish, and everyone applauded. He then extended the final blessing, and I gave the dismissal. It was a wonderful Mass.

Afterwards, as I made my way across the parking lot, a parishioner approached me with his family in tow. He didn’t look happy. Now, in matters spiritual, he could be a bit scrupulous…okay, more than a bit. He’d often complain to me about something the pope, or the bishop, or the pastor had said. And I knew I’d hear from him after every homily I preached. I’m probably wrong, but he seemed to believe he was holier than the Church itself, certainly holier than this lowly deacon, which was probably the truth…

But what upset him this day was the congregation’s applause for that couple’s anniversary. I thought he was kidding, so I stupidly laughed a little. That was a mistake. He glared at me and then said, “Applause has no place during the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.”

I tried to explain that the Mass is a time of communion…Yes, a Holy Communion with our Lord, but also a communion with each other, and that we should openly celebrate others’ joys and share in their sorrows. Doing so right before we are dismissed to reenter the world is probably a good time.

The Spirit, of course, is wonderful, and He gives us His Word when we need it most. And I found myself turning to St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans, and paraphrasing the Apostle’s wonderful words:

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Have the same regard for one another; do not be haughty but associate with the lowly; do not be wise in your own estimation [Rom 12:15-16] 

I couldn't express Paul's exact words from memory, but thought I'd paraphrased them rather well. Surprisingly, though, he didn’t say, “Oh, thank you, deacon, for clearing that up.”

No, he just walked away, very displeased with me and our visiting bishop. But perhaps the Spirit’s Word had an impact later.

He was so worried about the minutia -- applause as an offence to liturgy -- and so forgetful of the truly important -- sharing in the joy of a faithful marriage in Christ. Was he a hypocrite? Probably, but then so am I.

Recently I’ve been told by several people that they left the Church because it was filled with hypocrites. I just looked at one of them and said, “Well, yeah! We’re a Church of sinners. Let me know if you find a church that isn't.” I probably didn't change his mind, but sometimes I say things I shouldn't.

It's easy to get all wrapped up in the jots and tittles of our rules and rituals. Yes, we should do things well and right, but we are imperfect creatures, and sometimes we mess up.

Liturgy is really the perfect example. I was responsible for our liturgy here for a number of years, and I was always amazed by the comments, suggestions, and sometimes unkind criticism – often anonymous – that I received. I tried to avoid the attitude highlighted in the old joke that the difference between a liturgist and a terrorist is you can negotiate with a terrorist. I listened and studied and learned and prayed and tried to improve, occasionally with success.

Brothers and sisters, we must remember we’re all susceptible to these attitudes condemned by Jesus. We are re not called to be Pharisees; we are called to love.

Let’s beg God to reveal to us the hypocrisy he already sees in us, so we might know ourselves as God knows us, with that same clarity. Jesus invites us to look inward and not to be afraid at what we may encounter.

How to cleanse the inside of the cup?  Whatever is against justice and mercy and faith must be placed in the light of day. As my mom used to say, “Face the truth, son!” The beginning of our union with God is our ability to face the truth, to offer our weakness with a cry for truth and clarity about how we approach God and our neighbor.


Monday, August 22, 2022

Homily: 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Is 66:18-21; Ps 117; Heb 12:5-7,11-13; Lk 13:22-30

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When Isaiah proclaimed the remarkable prophecy we heard in our first reading, the Jews of his time must have been shocked. From the time of Abraham, they’d seen themselves as God’s Chosen People; and indeed they were. But for what purpose were they chosen? They saw salvation as something only a few would experience, namely them. God’s heavenly banquet would be for a select few.

Then they hear Isaiah, a prophet, speaking in God’s name and telling them something very different. Isaiah describes a holy gathering where people of every nation of the world enter God’s house. God invites all; all are brought into His presence; all worship the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; and to all of them He reveals His glory.

But there’s more. God tells Isaiah: “Some of these I will take as priests and Levites.” And so, here in the depths of this Old Testament prophecy, we find Jesus Christ present; for it is Jesus who will institute a new priesthood, derived not from genealogy or inheritance, but from faith. It will be a priesthood that ministers to both Jew and Gentile, that takes the Word of God to the world, a priesthood founded by Christ Himself and made present through the apostles.

Isaiah is preparing God’s people to accept the truth that God desires salvation for all – a desire later fulfilled by Jesus when He instructs the apostles to announce the Good News:

“Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always…” [Mt 28:19-20]

Yes, this is the new heaven and new earth that Isaiah speaks of later in this same prophecy. And how it must have shaken those who heard it, who no doubt asked, if only to themselves, “Is salvation really for all these people?” Hundreds of years later, this same question is posed to Jesus in today’s Gospel passage: “Lord, will only a few people be saved?”

Why did this unnamed person ask it? Is he simply asking, “Hey, Jesus, what are the odds I’ll win the salvation lottery?” Or maybe, as a Jew he thought he had an inside track on salvation: he knew the Law, obeyed the rules, did all he was supposed to do as a sign of his justification.

When you think of it this way, you can almost hear the complacency in the question, can’t you? Or maybe he was complacent because he knew Jesus…that as a disciple he thought he had it made...had walked by Jesus’ side as He taught in the streets...had shared meals with Him. Wouldn’t this be enough? Whatever his reasons, I’m sure he was surprised when he didn’t get a simple Yes or No answer.

But it was really the wrong question. How many will be saved isn’t the important thing. The important question, the one you and I should really be concerned about is: “How can we be saved?” And this is the question Jesus answers.

You see, brothers and sisters, salvation is a gift. It’s nothing you or I can earn; rather it’s the result of Christ’s saving sacrifice on the Cross. Although everyone is invited to share in God’s Kingdom, accepting that invitation means obeying His call to repentance and struggling to do His Will. Thankfully, God’s ways are so very different from ours. His judgment and His mercy are perfect, but they are so different that we always question.

Some years ago, at a vigil service for a parishioner who had just died, his wife spoke to me about him. “He rarely went to Mass,” she said. “He fought in two wars, and encountered unspeakable things. He saw a lot of death, some of it he caused himself. I think he spent a lifetime trying unsuccessfully to come to grips with it all. I know he hadn’t gone to confession in years.” And then she asked me, “How will God judge him?”

It’s really the same question, isn’t it: “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” It seems to be a question we never cease asking.

About twenty years ago, I worked for a high-tech firm in New England. One morning a co-worker, one of our young salespeople, knowing I was deacon, asked if we could speak privately. She began to talk about her older brother. He was her hero, a bright, talented, seemingly happy young man who could do no wrong in her eyes. He had a good job with a major public relations firm, and even talked about starting his own business one day soon. He seemed to be doing so well. And then for reasons she could not understand he turned to hard drugs. He became addicted. Within months he’d lost his job and had even been arrested in some drug buying sting operation. Then tragically, the week before, he died of an overdose, which they suspect was intentional. “He was always so good, so kind, so helpful to everyone,” she said. And then she asked, “Will Mark spend eternity in hell?”

Once again, we hear it: “Lord, will only a few people be saved?”

How I answered isn’t important. How Jesus answered is. Jesus took this simple question and used it to teach us about salvation. Yes, the door is narrow and we can’t pin our hopes on being paid-up church-going people. And those words “depart from me” are a stark and chilling reminder that the stakes are high.

But God in His mercy calls us…again, and again, and again. Only He knows what’s in the human heart. Or as we heard in today’s 2nd reading from Hebrews: 

“…do not disdain the discipline of the Lord…for whom He disciplines, He loves” [Heb 12:5-6]

It’s no coincidence that the words discipline and disciple have the same Latin root: discere, to learn.

And so, when we ask that question – “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” – are we willing to accept His answer? We don’t fully understand this mystery of salvation, a salvation not limited by law, ritual, or our own expectations of who will or won’t be saved. There is no formula for salvation. Salvation is a gift from a God whose love is so expansive it includes the entire human family.

Our God respects our freedom, takes our decisions seriously, and accepts the consequences of our decisions, even when we choose to reject Him. But this same loving God has a heart overflowing with mercy and forgiveness, always offering us His healing grace.  Yes, we should do our part, but we shouldn't be too quick to condemn ourselves, and we certainly shouldn’t condemn others.

Maybe when we’re upset about the things we’re getting wrong, we can count ourselves among the 'last' of Luke's Gospel and I suppose that’s good. Maybe then we’re more likely to accept help, help from others, and God’s help and forgiveness.

You and I are far from perfect but when the time comes, I hope we’ll be pleasantly surprised to find ourselves in God’s presence…and perhaps also surprised by the others we’ll meet there, just as they’ll be surprised to see us.

We might well encounter that parishioner, plagued by his memories of those battlefields, who spent a life wrestling with his conscience and with God. Or the young man who in his last moments turned to His Savior in repentance and thankfulness for the offer of salvation.

Yes, brothers and sisters, the stakes are high, and I know the last thing I want to hear from God is, “Depart from me.” How much better to hear Him say, “'Well done, my good and faithful servant…Come, share your master’s joy.”

So, instead of judging others, those who seem so lost, whose lives are filled with pain, instead of judging them, let’s do as Jesus commanded and simply love them to salvation. And offer prayers for those who have gone before us, prayers that depart our time-plagued world and enter God’s eternity where their effects are beyond our imagining.


Saturday, August 20, 2022

Homily: Saturday, 20th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Ez 43:1- Ps 85 • Mt 23:1-12

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Today we celebrate St. Bernard of Clairvaux, a 12th-century monk who had a powerful influence on the Cistercian reform of the Benedictines. He never turned away from conflict and criticized the Benedictines for their wealth and what he considered their lax spiritual life. He also received a lot of after-the-fact, and probably unfair, criticism for his strong support of the Second Crusade, an effort that ended in disaster.

But despite all this, he had a very positive impact on the Church during those challenging times. He was also a true mystic, and his writings, especially his work on the Love of God, are still widely read today. Indeed, we told that Pope John XXIII read from St. Bernard’s work every evening.

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When we hear Jesus castigating the Pharisees and Scribes, we must be wary of the tendency to believe His words were aimed solely at those men whom Jesus encountered so often.

But what Jesus has to say in this passage shouldn’t be thought of only as a diatribe against people in the past, those nasty Scribes and Pharisees. Doing so, we forget that it’s for our benefit and reflection that these words of Jesus have been included in the Gospel. Indeed, the same attitudes were found among the early Christians just as they are all too common today. Yes, the Gospels were written to us and for us.

We must also realize Jesus wasn't attacking every Scribe and every Pharisee. Afer all, they included many good men, just and honest men like Gamaliel (Acts 5) and Nicodemus (Jn 3). Jesus is really attacking wrong attitudes that are behind the hypocrisy and sinfulness so common then and now.

He turns first to those in authority, and challenges them to practice what they preach. He sees through their open hypocrisy, that "all their works are performed to be seen" [Mt 23:5], that they relish the attention and honors they receive.

Hearing these words of Our Lord, I'm forced to look at myself and examine my own attitudes. Of course, we deacons don't pack a lot of authority, and that's as it should be. The very meaning of our title is "servant." But maybe that's the problem. After all, how often do I remind myself that I am called only to serve?

I hear Jesus' words about relishing "greetings in the marketplaces, and the salutation 'Rabbi'" [Mt 23:7]. Now I'm no rabbi, but I can hardly go to Publix without someone greeting me as "Deacon" and too often saying nice things about me. Do I relish these greetings? It's hard not to, so I usually ask the other to pray for me and the ministry to which God has called me, reminding myself that His call and all that comes with it is undeserved. It's still hard, until God, in His own unique way, humbles me. He does that a lot.

How about you? do you really accept, as Jesus reminds us, that we are all brothers and sisters in Christ, adopted children of the Father? Do we accept that any differences among us, any human achievements (all that human "greatness") and any talents -- that these are all gifts, that none of us is greater than another. For as Jesus commands:

"The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted” [Mt 23:11-12].

If we pay attention to our reading from the prophet Ezekiel, perhaps we can better understand this command. After all, when placed in God’s presence, as Ezekiel was, it’s hard not to be humbled. Ezekiel was reminded that God, despite the sinfulness of His people, remain with them always. Once again, the covenant is renewed. And it’s renewed again and again, but it’s never God who breaks it, for God is merciful and forgiving. The final covenant, the New Covenant, will be made through Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Son of God, Who pours out His blood for the love of us all.

As we learn from Ezekiel, the glory of the Lord is always ready to enter our lives, if only we humble ourselves before Him. We are called, then, to follow the example of Our Lord. We are called to humble ourselves just as He did – our God Who emptied Himself to become one of us.

Today He humbles Himself further as He comes to us, Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, but in the simple form of bread and wine so we may take Him to us, that our God may reside within us: the Son, in the Father, through the Spirit.

We are on our way, brothers and sisters. But we must become the Church of the meek, a Church of the humble that approaches God in repentance. It’s what we’re called to do. God allows us, the faithful, to “start afresh…from the beginning,” to forgive sinners and embrace and console the innocents, to share the Good News, and do so in faith, in humility, and in love.


Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Homily: Tuesday, 19th Week in Ordinary Time

 Readings: Ez 2:8-3:4 • Psalm 119 • Matthew 18:1-5,12-14

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Jesus spent a lot of time shaping His disciples’ hearts, opening them to the Kingdom, to the Church they would soon be called on to lead. In today’s passage from Matthew, we see this shaping taking place.

The disciples ask Him a question: “Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven?” Jesus answers with a little “show and tell.” He calls a child to join them, instructing the disciples to be like this child, who acts in faith and humility.

“Do not despise one of these little ones…their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father.” [Mt 18:10]

We all know how different, how wonderfully innocent, children are from adults. Over 45 years ago, when our eldest was just a little girl, we lived on campus at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis where I was teaching. One morning our two daughters were playing with a bunch of neighborhood children, when the youngest came running up to us crying.

When Diane asked her older sister what had happened, she said, “A boy pushed her, and she fell down.” Diane asked, “Which boy?”, and our six-year-old responded with, “The boy in the red shirt.” We looked out at the mob of children, and there was only one boy in a red shirt. He was also the only black child there, the son of a friend and neighbor, another Navy pilot.

Now, almost any adult would have responded differently, probably saying, “the black kid.” But not a child. You see, there’s no bigotry; to the child the only differences are the externals, the red shirts, all those things that really have nothing to do with who we are.

This reminded me of our saint today: St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, perhaps better known as Edith Stein, a Jew who became an atheist, then a Catholic, and then a Carmelite nun. But her Jewish roots brought her to Auschwitz where she died a martyr 80 years ago today. She was certainly no child, but rather a brilliant philosopher who came to love the Lord. But Jesus, speaking of children and the Kingdom, brought her to mind.

You see, when I was a child of seven, we lived in Heidelberg Germany. On one of our vacation trips to Bavaria, our father took us to see Dachau, one of the Nazi death camps, this one near Munich.

You might think this would be too traumatic for a seven-year-old, but, no, it wasn’t, and my dad wanted us to see what people were capable of when they turned away from God.

I remember much of that day because it changed my life. For the first time, I saw a Godless world. I remember not understanding why anyone would do such things to others…all because I was a child, still innocent enough to disbelieve or excuse sin.

But for many, God’s love is so incomprehensible, they actually despise how God approaches us in Jesus. They hate it for the same reason Cain despised and killed his brother, Abel. The motive is clear: Jesus presents us with the reality of our better selves, but too often it’s the self we left behind when we grew up.

Like St. Teresa Benedicta, Jesus allows Himself to fall into the abuse and violence of men’s hands. But when they wound Jesus, they are covered by the tide of His Precious Blood flowing from Calvary, and from this very altar and thousands like it. For His blood has the power of absorbing into its love, and therefore neutralizing, the worst hatred of which we are capable.

Victor Frankl, the Austrian Jewish psychotherapist who spent much of World War II as a prisoner in Auschwitz, wrote a remarkable book of his experiences called, Man in Search of Meaning. In it he describes how in the midst of unbelievable brutality and the most degrading conditions he found so many examples of remarkable faith and unselfish love.

Again and again, he encountered people who had achieved victory over the sinfulness that surrounded them. And out of this experience of abject suffering Frankl had a revelation. He wrote,

“Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: 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.’”

The Apostles, with the help of the Holy Spirit, also came to understand what Jesus meant when He asked them to be childlike. Let’s learn from them and today turn to the Holy Spirit. Invite Him into our hearts, to shape us, to give us the joy that only the love of God can bring. For the Spirit waits patiently, always listening for our invitation, always responding to our prayer.