Homily: 4th Sunday of Easter - Year A

Readings: Acts 2:14,36-41; 1Pt 2:20-25; Ps 23; Jn 10:1-10

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Today is Good Shepherd Sunday, and for obvious reasons, given the readings we just heard.

In many respects the Good Shepherd is one of the most vivid of all Gospel images. Describing Himself as the Good Shepherd, Jesus shows His loving care for us, how precious we all are in God’s eyes. The Good Shepherd not only cares for us, but calls us to come together in His name, not as some amorphous mob, but as Church, called together in communion in word and sacrament to do His will in the world.

Now some of us might not appreciate being compared to sheep. I encountered this objection years ago when I was a young naval officer. At sea one evening, a group of us, including Fr. Pat, a visiting Catholic chaplain, were chatting over coffee when Mike, a young lieutenant and an agnostic, challenged the chaplain by saying:

"Christianity is a religion for wimps, especially you Catholics. You're just a bunch of sheep. You do whatever your Church tells you. You even call your God a shepherd. It's as if you actually like being compared to some stupid animal."

Now I'd never heard this argument before, so I was curious to hear how Fr. Pat would respond...and respond he did, in words I will never forget:

“Interesting observation, Mike. But I have a question for you: What's the cardinal rule of military leadership?" Mike didn’t miss a beat. "Take care of your men."

"That's right," Father Pat said, "because without them you can't accomplish the mission. Low morale means poor performance, so you do all you can to boost their morale…Now, do you think the men who work for you are wimps?"

Naturally he didn't. And Fr. Pat continued...

"Yet you expect obedience from them, especially in the heat of battle. You expect it because of your authority as a commissioned officer, and because you’ve earned their trust with your leadership. They trust you with their very lives. Why? Because they know if the need arises, you’d willingly give up your life for them. If you think about it, you expect your men to follow your lead, much like a herd of sheep will follow their shepherd, out of sheer trust. Jesus used the metaphor of the good shepherd because he was speaking to a pastoral people who would understand what he meant."

Father Pat was on a roll. None of us argued, or even said a word...so he went on...

"You know, Mike, if Jesus were here today, preaching aboard this ship, he'd probably say, 'I am the good Captain, my sailors know me and I know my sailors.' You see, it's not that we Christians are like dumb animals. We're really more like soldiers and sailors. We trust God because He was willing to sacrifice His life so that we might have eternal life."

How did Jesus put it in today’s Gospel reading?

"I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly" [Jn 10:10].

…words that sum up the Good News of the entire Gospel message. And if there were ever a time when we needed to hear some good news, now is certainly the time.

By most human benchmarks, modern-day America enjoys a degree of affluence undreamed of by previous generations. Expensive cars, vacation homes, Caribbean cruises, smart TVs, and smarter phones, high-speed internet, the worldwide web…yes many Americans have it all.

"I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly."

Is this what Jesus meant by life in abundance – the good life? Or did he mean something else? If we set aside our material abundance, we find we also live in a country where children of affluence shoot their schoolmates; where suicide is a leading cause of death among the young; where citizens cry out for the death penalty because they believe the only cure for violence is more violence.

…a country where healers stop healing and assist in the killing of those who are burdensome, or inconvenient, or less than perfect.

…a country where it's legal to kill another human being only if that person is in the most defenseless, vulnerable stage of life, right before he or she is born. We do this so well; we've done it over 60 million times since 1973.

"I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly."

Is this what Jesus meant?

St. Teresa of Calcutta knew better. Do you remember? At the National Prayer Breakfast in Washington in 1994 when she turned to our nation and our political leaders and spoke the truth:

"Any country that accepts abortion is not teaching its people to love, but to use any violence to get what they want."

A prophecy fulfilled in our hearing. This tiny woman, our beloved 20^th century prophet, had spent her entire life fighting what Saint John Paul called a “culture of death." She saw past the pleasant surroundings and nice-sounding words and into the hearts of our nation's leaders, these men and women of influence. And what she saw, quite simply, was the same darkness, the same culture of death she had come to know so well in the alleys and hovels of the world's forgotten places.

How did Jesus put it in today's Gospel? He alone is the gate to eternal life; all others are thieves and robbers.

"A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they may have life and have it abundantly."

Jesus is the gate, the gate to hope, the gate to life. And the Church? Well, do you know what St. Paul called the Church? He called it the “pillar and foundation of the truth” [1 Tim 3:15]. The Church is the gatekeeper. Recall Jesus' words to the Apostles:

"Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven" [Mt 18:18].

But the Church doesn't speak for itself. The Church, the visible Body of Christ on earth, speaks the very Word of God and teaches the Truth. This is a tenet of our Catholic Faith. We either accept it and all that the Church teaches, or we reject it and cease calling ourselves Catholic Christians. And what does the Church tell us? Listen to the words of St. John Paul from his encyclical, "The Gospel of Life":

"The Gospel of God's love for man, the Gospel of the dignity of the person, and the Gospel of life are a single and indivisible Gospel."

Do we realize what this means? The one, holy, catholic, apostolic Church, Christ's Church, our Church, teaches unerringly that our dedication to social justice, our concern for the poor, for the dignity of the human person, must be founded on a rock-solid respect for human life in all its stages, or it is all meaningless. Only the Church speaks out consistently for life, teaching and preaching God's love for all humankind. This is why she is always under attack by those who would advance the culture of death.

We cannot confuse God's eternal truth with any human activity, even the noblest. All others, Jesus tells us plainly, are thieves and robbers. Does that offend us? It shouldn't. It’s always been the message of the Gospel, a message without compromise, a message centered on loving God above all else. When we Christians truly live the Gospel and abandon ourselves to God's Love, others will see Christ in us, will touch Christ in us, and He will plant the seeds of faith in their hearts.

Does this mean turning our lives upside down? A complete change of values? The end of our comfortable, isolated way of life? Quite simply, Yes. Have we forgotten that we are followers of a crucified Christ? For most of us, there’s a lot to overcome before we can say with St. Paul:

“I have been crucified with Christ…but Christ lives in me…" [Gal 2:19-20]

The choice is ours. We can follow the thieves and robbers we are warned against in the Gospel, or we can follow the Shepherd and His Church.

We can respond like the crowd:

“This saying is hard; who can accept it?” [Jn 6:60].

Or we can respond like Peter:

“Where else can we go. You have the words of eternal life” [Jn 6:68].

We must choose.

"I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly."

This is God's promise, the promise of eternal life.

Choose life.

Homily: Mass and Healing Service

This morning, after our usual Saturday morning Mass celebrated by our pastor, we conducted a healing service for those who sought healing of any kind: body, mind, or spirit. We conduct these services several times each year. They are always very special gatherings in which the Holy Spirit blesses us with His presence and power. Each person in need of healing is individually welcomed by one of our prayer teams. We pray with and over each person asking God to fill us all with His Spirit and His healing grace.  

This morning I was asked to preach. My homily follows.

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Readings: Acts 9:31-42; Ps 116; Jn 6:60-69

How good it is to see you all here today – here to praise our God for the healing graces He showers on us through the sacraments of His Church.

In today’s readings we encounter a wonderful blend of God’s gifts – of peace, of healing, of sacramental grace, and of Jesus’ continued Living Presence among us and within us. As I read our readings the other day, I couldn't help but recall those wonderfully powerful words of Jesus from Luke’s Gospel:

“Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap. For the measure you give will be the measure you get back” [Lk 6:38].

Now, although this passage from Luke isn‘t one of today’s readings, doesn’t it beautifully sum up the Scriptural passages we just heard? God indeed showers His gifts on us, asking only that we use them for His glory.

But how and why do we get these gifts from God? Do we deserve them? No. And what does God get out of it? Nothing. And that’s the difference between God and us.

Years ago, I had an insurance agent who always gave me a gift on my birthday. Nothing elaborate, maybe a little pocketknife, or a coffee mug, just something to remind me that he was thinking of me. Of course, I realized he gave all his clients the same gift. Why did he do it? To keep our business. I’m pretty sure he didn’t do it because He loved us.

And that’s the difference. God offers His gifts to everyone, not because He gets anything out of it. After all, God is perfect, and nothing we do can make Him more perfect. No, God gives out of love, and He gives lavishly.

Look at Peter in today’s reading from Acts. Since the martyrdom of Stephen and the conversion of Paul, things had quieted down for the early Christians. As we hear from Luke: 

"The church throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria was at peace." [Acts 9:31]

Peter, then, leaves Jerusalem to spread the Gospel throughout Judea, and heads for the towns along the coast. In Lydda he encounters Aeneas, a man paralyzed and bedridden for years. And don’t you just love what Peter says to him?

“Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals you. Get up and make your bed” [Acts 9:34].

In other words, Peter tells him, it is not I, but the living Lord, Jesus Christ, who heals you. And so, rise! Rise to new life! And make that bed of yours because you will no longer need it during the day.

In the Gospel we catch brief glimpses of this strong and faithful Peter, this man so sure of himself…Indeed, John shows us this side of Peter in today’s Gospel passage. Many disciples had abandoned Jesus because they couldn’t accept His revelation, His Eucharistic promise, the gift of Himself, Body and Blood…

Our Lord then turned to the 12 and asked: “Do you also want to leave?” And it’s Peter who responded with those powerful, faithful words: “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

Yes, the strong, faithful Peter…well, sometimes, until things got rough. But then, with Pentecost, with the arrival of the Holy Spirit, everything changed, including Peter. Filled with and driven by the Holy Spirit, Peter is a changed man. And this is the Peter we encounter in Acts.

The healing of Aeneas brought many conversions in the local towns, and led the people of another town, Joppa, to send for Peter. It seems Tabitha, a holy, generous, much loved woman, had died. Peter arrives and finds her ready for burial, her body washed and laid out in an upper room. He clears the room, kneels, prays, and says to the dead woman: “Tabitha, rise up!” She does. And taking her hand he presents her to her friends, alive. Once again, faith in Jesus Christ spreads as many in Joppa come to believe.

The miracles, the healings and restoring of life, are signs of the presence of God in the living Jesus Christ preached by Peter. People are baptized. And so, the sacraments, too, manifested by visible, outward signs that point to something far greater than themselves, become the source of God’s healing graces.

But turning again to today’s Gospel passage, John tells us that many couldn’t accept the Word of the Word Incarnate. “Eat my body. Drink my blood.” Hard words, indeed.

But, Jesus asked them, if you can’t accept this, how can you possibly accept my Resurrection and Ascension to the Father? In other words, it all demands an act of faith. For faith, too, is a gift, open and available to all, to all who are open to receive it.

As John reveals to us, the Twelve at least were open, accepting the Word of “the Holy One of God,” the Messiah, God’s Chosen One. Peter answered Jesus’ question with his own question: “Lord, to whom shall we go?” You see, sisters and brothers, once we accept the gift of faith, there’s only one answer to Peter’s question. We can go to no one, but Jesus Himself.

Because of our faith, our trust in Jesus, His healing and life-giving work continues among us still. Just as Jesus, through the prayer and faith of Peter, brought healing and life to others, so too does Our Lord make each of us a source of healing.

Without faith, prayer is empty, like the self-centered prayer of the Pharisee who prayed only to himself. And remember what happened when Jesus visited his hometown of Nazareth?

“…he did not work many mighty deeds there because of their lack of faith” [Mt 13:58].

Yes, without faith, healing doesn’t happen; without faith sacraments are seen as mere symbols, signs pointing to nothing. But when we are filled with faith, our prayer, especially our communal intercessory prayer, is very powerful indeed.

Our faith, then, is at the heart of it, isn’t it? Yes, indeed, faith must be there, but something else as well: our love.

We see this with the Twelve. Their faith often wavered, but not their love. Even in their denials and their fears, in their mistakes, their lack of understanding, in their pride, and their arguments…throughout it all, they continued to love Jesus. As he often did, St. Augustine said it well.

“This is what love is all about: to obey and believe the one you love.”

You know, God really doesn’t ask very much of us. He likes to simplify things. We’re the ones who tend to complicate it all. Because you are faithful, He says, love Me with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength. And love your neighbor as yourself. Not very complicated.

So, you’re here for healing today? Well, take a look at those sitting next to you, your neighbors. They’re here for healing too. Have you prayed for them, for their healing?  

In a little while, you will see the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ raised up from this altar. And as you consume that gift, as Jesus becomes one with you, thank God for His presence and pray for your neighbor’s healing.

Yes, Jesus calls us to come to Him, to know and love Him as He knows and loves us. In calling us to Himself He also sends us into the world afire with the flame of His love.

Lord Jesus, you have the words of everlasting life. Help us to cast aside all doubt and fear so that we may embrace your word with trust and joy. Help us surrender all to you…measure for measure.

Planned Parenthood

What follows is not a long post, but just long enough to give you something to meditate on and pray about. 

Planned Parenthood, the premier abortion provider in the United States, proudly stated in their 2021-2022 Annual Report that they performed 374,155 abortions, or more accurately, they had slaughtered 374,155 innocent baby girls and boys. 

Planned Parenthood has about a 40% share of the abortion "market" which makes them the definite leader in this gruesome business. Interestingly, despite the lockdowns resulting from COVID, they were able to achieve the second highest annual total in their history.

Yes, indeed, for Planned Parenthood abortion is obviously a very profitable business. Their revenue for the year was over $1.9 billion, and 35% of that income (over $670 million) came from you and me, the taxpayers of the United States, all cleverly described as "Government Health Services Reimbursements and Grants."

Their 40-page annual report is entitled Relentless, to sum up their attitude in response to the U.S. Supreme Court's recent decision that the Constitution includes no right to abortion. The report is quite slick, with lots of graphics, charts, and photographs. Surprisingly, though, despite the organization's supposed focus on parenthood, I found no photos of children, none whatsoever. I suppose that, in itself, tells us a lot about Planned Parenthood.

Like Planned Parenthood, the political left is always talking about how much they care for the children; but when it comes right down to it, all their policies focus on belittling the importance of children or lead to their utter destruction. 

Pray for the conversion of our nation, for the conversion of our national and state leadership in all three branches of government, for the conversion of those who work at and support Planned Parenthood. And pray especially for all those confused and misled moms and dads who believe abortion is the answer to their problems. It's never the answer to problems. In fact, it's always just the beginning of their problems.

St. Margaret of Castello, pray for us.

Flannery O’Connor: Rare Recordings

I came to appreciate the work of Flannery O’Connor over time. In 1962, during my freshman year at Georgetown, I read one of her stories for the first time. A friend handed me a book containing several of her short stories and suggested I read at least one of them. I chose “A Good Man Is Hard to Find” because of its rather pleasant title. Was I surprised! I simply didn’t know what to make of this strange story of the mass murder of what I considered very stupid people by very evil people. It was certainly the most shocking short story I had ever come across. I’ll admit I didn’t fully grasp its meaning or appreciate its characters, probably because it was all so far beyond my own limited experience. In truth, I really didn’t even know how to understand the story, and so I just returned the book to my friend without much comment. I was probably too young, too naive, and simply too stupid to grasp what Flannery O’Connor was trying to tell me. Only years later did I begin to read her works a bit more seriously. And this was thanks to Dear Diane, my wife of 54 years. Diane, the English major, had been a longtime fan of O’Connor‘s work and encouraged me to read this great Southern writer. And a Southerner she certainly was. She was also Catholic, a devout Catholic, at that time not particularly common in rural Georgia. 

I won’t review her life and work here. That’s not my purpose. Flannery O’Connor died in 1964 at the young age of 39 after battling lupus her entire adult life. Perhaps not surprisingly, there are few recordings of her voice, but those we have are absolutely priceless. Whenever I hear her voice, I’m reminded of some of Diane’s Georgia relatives, especially those who were older and are no longer with us. They all had such delightful Southern accents. Anyway, I find it a joy to listen to O'Connor.

I’ve provided links to two audio recordings, both available on YouTube. In the first O’Connor reads that remarkable story I first read so many years ago:

“A Good Man Is Hard to Find”

And here’s a recording of her reading one of her essays:

“Some Aspects of the Grotesque in Southern Fiction”

I hope you enjoy them. And if you have never read Flannery O’Connor’s work, perhaps hearing her voice will encourage you to do so.

Reflection: Divine Mercy Novena - Day 8

"Mankind will not have peace until it turns with trust to My mercy...Oh, how much I am hurt by a soul's distrust! Such a soul professes that I am Holy and Just, but does not believe that I am Mercy and does not trust in My Goodness. Even the devils glorify MY Justice but do not believe in My Goodness. My heart rejoices in this title of Mercy." - St. Faustine's Diary (350)

I’m always surprised by the amount of despair I encounter…and it seems to come from such unlikely places. 

Years ago, I worked with a bright, young man. Ambitious and competent, he’s gone on to have a distinguished business career. I remember when his father died. On the day before the funeral, I stopped by his office to express my condolences. I'll never forget his response.

"No big deal,” he said. “After all, life is just a crapshoot. That's why we've got to have as much fun as possible. Make money and have fun. Because when it's over…it's over!"

You can’t miss the despair in these words. And yet, were you to meet him, you'd think he was full of enthusiasm and joy at just being alive. But that joy and enthusiasm struggles against a dark backdrop of death and oblivion.

He's not alone. Others, including many Christians, worry about their physical health, and ignore their spiritual health. They worry about how they will spend their retirement, but not how they will spend eternity. They worry about helping their children get into good schools, but not helping them get into heaven. They focus on work, money, vacations, TV shows, food, possessions -- every created thing under the sun -- but rarely think of the Creator.

For so many the created world, the material world of the here and now, becomes an end in itself. But they're not blind. They see the world perishing, themselves aging, time unravelling. And unable to look beyond the world, they despair.

Well...so far, I suppose this hasn’t been a very cheerful reflection. But that’s about to change. For God has provided a cure and an antidote to despair. He gave us His Son. He gave us the personification of Divine Mercy.

The very fact of the Incarnation should be enough to cure anyone of despair. If we believe in Jesus’ divinity, how can we not accept the reality of God’s Mercy? Just meditate on the Cross. That’s our Creator hanging there. We see how God’s Mercy knows no bounds, so far beyond our understanding of mercy. The Father didn’t allow His Son to be sacrificed in such a horrible way for nothing.

But in addition to being the ultimate redemptive act, the Cross is also a plea from God to man. In giving us the gift of the Cross, God is saying: 

“Do you see how much I love you? Do you see the extent of My Divine Mercy? Then why don’t you trust in Me? You rejected My Son, you tortured Him, and you killed Him…and I knew that you would do this. And yet I still went ahead with my redemptive plan.”

His love for us, His gratuitous love, is so complete, we not only don’t deserve it, but also can’t even comprehend it. Grasping this do we then jump to the presumption that God’s Mercy will save everyone? No, because that’s not our decision. It’s God’s.

We must neither despair nor presume. God just wants us to trust. We cannot save ourselves, but by accepting and cooperating with God’s Grace, we can allow God to save us. Isn’t that a consoling thought?

Look at the world, at its hatreds, its violence, its sinfulness, its despair. How did Jesus put it in today’s reading from St. Faustina’s Diary?

“Mankind will not have peace until it turns in trust to My Mercy.”

Divine Mercy is the cure. Trust is our only response.

Being There…and Not Here

President Biden just spent a five-day family vacation in Ireland. I suppose he thought it a good time to get away from it all, to ignore all those pesky crises erupting across the globe, and to spend a little quality time with Hunter. 

I found it curious that the White House told the press the president hoped to enjoy his trip, so he would hold no press conferences or take any questions. If that’s so, why did the entire press corps bother to make the trip? Perhaps they, too, needed a little vacation in Guinness country. Or maybe they hoped the commander in chief might answer a few shouted questions about the quality of the fish and chips or whether Irish ice cream met his high standards. Such questions reveal the depth of investigative reporting focused on this president.

It’s would seem the president enjoyed himself, especially his time with his Irish counterpart, President Michael Higgins. I know little about the Irish president, but he seems to be a pleasant man with an infectious smile, although when standing alongside the tall Joe Biden, he looked a wee bit like a leprechaun. Of course, if you’re an Irish politician that might be a plus. 

Full disclosure: My roots are 100% Irish. Three of my four grandparents were born in Ireland, and my fourth grandparent was a second generation Irish-American. I can, then, appreciate the president’s desire to dig more deeply into his own Irish roots. Unlike many Americans of Irish descent, I have no particular love for Ireland, a nation that once kept the faith but today is largely faithless. I recall my father once being asked if he were proud of his Irish heritage. He responded with, “Not proud because I had nothing to do with it. But I am glad my ancestors left the blasted place and came here to America.” My parents were born in 1909 and my grandparents in the 1870s. Given how most poor Irish Catholics lived in those days, it’s no wonder they left their homes for the freedom and opportunity offered by the United States. For many of them, I suppose the old sod was indeed a “blasted place.” As for me, unlike most of today’s Europeans, I’m far more interested in celebrating my Christian roots.

Diane and I have visited Ireland only once, back in 2012. It was a delightful two-week trip, filled with castles, B&Bs, boutique hotels, charming pubs, friendly folks, remarkable scenery, and even an Irish Wolfhound named Mr. Higgins (no relation to the Irish president). And it was all made special because we traveled with our dearest friends, Nancy and Dave Lee. We also attended the Navy-Norte Dame football game played that year in Dublin. Despite the score, a wonderful time was had by all. 

Mr. Higgins Checking Out Diane

I hope the president truly enjoyed his Irish visit, although I think he could have spent those five days doing far more important things given the precarious state of the world. And unfortunately for Joe Biden, many of the problems faced by the United States today are directly attributable to his failed policies. Sadly, I don’t think he is aware of this, and it seems the leftist ideologues advising and guiding him seem quite pleased with the results of their work. If they intend to completely restructure our constitutional republic, and turn it into just another totalitarian state run by a cadre of inept elites, they’re well on their way. But I have faith in the American people, in their spirit, and in their love of freedom. I also accept that our God is in charge of His creation, and this nation and its people are certainly a part of it.

Pray for our nation, and pray for our world. And I can also still hope: Erin go brách.

The War

The first major battle of the Civil War, the battle of Bull Run, took place near Manassas, Virginia, not far from our nation’s capital. Most Northerners expected an easy victory, and many civilians, carrying picnic baskets, followed the Union force, planning to watch the battle as if it were a sporting event. You can imagine their surprise when the Confederate troops not only won the battle but forced a Union retreat. Suddenly all those curious civilians became unwilling participants in the battle and ran for their lives. Most managed to escape, although one New York congressman was captured and spent many months in a Richmond prison. The battle convinced many Americans the Civil War would last far longer than anticipated.

Today we, too, are in the midst of a war, a very different war, one against demonic forces. I suspect most Americans don't realize this and assume, as one person recently told me “It’s just politics.” But it's not. It's a full-fledged, declared war against our civilization's foundational religious and moral values. To undermine these values the enemy first disguised their battle tactics as merely political, but then, realizing this couldn’t guarantee success, they decided, rather boldly, to claim traditional values are exactly the opposite of what people generally believe. The moral, then, became immoral, the good became evil, the Godly became diabolic, and vice versa. 

Our president has, willingly or not, joined the demonic forces as he accuses pro-life and pro-marriage Americans of being "white supremacists" and "extremists." Indeed, he slapped the same labels on anyone who objects to his economic agenda and went on to define “MAGA Republicans” as those who believe Americans have “no right to choose, no right to privacy, no right to contraception, no right to marry who (sic) you love...MAGA Republicans have made their choice. They embrace anger. They thrive on chaos. They live not in the light of truth but in the shadow of lies.” Here we see a perfect example of the reversal of good and evil, where the truth is shrouded in a “shadow of lies.” And not surprisingly, he said little about his economic agenda, and nothing about inflation, gas prices, or border security.

And the demonic forces? Radical left or radical right, it makes little difference. Although the communists of the USSR and Mao’s China called themselves “international socialists” and the Nazis called themselves “national socialists,” both sought one thing: power. Both used that power to slaughter millions they considered threats. Both applied near identical methods to achieve total control over their populations. And surprise, surprise! Both claimed to be socialists. Today, though, the greatest threat to our civilization comes from the ideologues of the radical left. Yes, they rule China, a nation determined to replace American influence in the world. But they also educate our youth in high schools and colleges. You’ll find lots of victimized snowflakes, the left’s “useful idiots,” in every college classroom, but you’ll have to search long and hard to find a neo-Nazi on a campus. 

Because many of the radical left’s desired outcomes carry highly negative connotations, euphemisms abound. Abortion, the willful slaughter of today’s Holy Innocents, is disguised and celebrated as women’s health. Total control of our nation's citizenry (that's you and me) is disguised as national healthcare, or the patriotic search for enemies, or gun control, or necessary suppression of misinformation. To criticize an actual enemy — for example, the Chinese Communist Party or the Taliban — becomes racism. Global warming, because the facts keep getting in the way, is redefined safely as “Climate Change.” “Follow the science,” we’re told, even though the science, as always, is far from settled. For decades some scientists and pseudoscientific experts have issued a stream of predictions, each telling us the world will end on some future date that is inevitably forgotten as it moves into the past. But this doesn’t stop those in power from destroying the economy to protect us from terrors that never materialize. Why do they do this? If you want the truth, don’t bother following the science, just follow the money.

As I have often said on this blog, probably far too often, the left has focused primarily on abortion; it’s their sine qua non. For almost 50 years, since the Roe v. Wade decision in 1973, abortion was legal. But then in 2022 the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, claiming "The Constitution makes no reference to abortion, and no such right is implicitly protected by any constitutional provision." The court, then, decided to "return the issue of abortion to the people's elected representatives.” 

Abortion, no longer nationally legal, suddenly became a state and local issue. And so other moral issues now take center stage and the enemy has extended its reach to include transgenderism, even pedophilia, and the indoctrination of school children in sexual perversion. These are all celebrated as acceptable lifestyle choices and offered as positive alternatives to the intolerance of religion, especially Christianity, the bete noire of the radical left. Yes, indeed, just listen to the talking heads on CNN, MSNBC, et al and you will discover that Christianity is a racist religion of white supremacy. Following the same script, a highly politicized FBI decided that traditional Catholics were likely domestic terrorists and white supremacists. We’re it not so serious, it would actually be humorous since I know people of all races who regularly attend Latin Masses. The feds actually planned to, and likely did, infiltrate Catholic churches in which Latin Masses were celebrated. It doesn’t take a Constitutional scholar to recognize that the Department of Justice apparently isn’t bothered by First Amendment concerns.

It’s not just freedom of religion that’s under attack; it’s religion itself. And believe it or not, some people, far too many people, have bought into this. Let me just highlight one very recent example. Our president just proclaimed March 31, 2023 a Transgender Day of Visibility, and then using Twitter celebrated the day with some remarkable words: 

“On Transgender Day of Visibility we want you to know that we see you just as you are: Made in the image of God and deserving of dignity, respect, and support. We'll never stop working to create a world where you won't have to be brave just to be yourself.”

President Biden then went on to issue a lengthy proclamation on the Transgender Day of Visibility. It’s a bizarre proclamation, but worth your time if only to understand better who our president really is. We know our “devoutly Catholic” president openly rejects Church teaching on most moral and many theological issues. Reading his transgender day proclamation only confirms how distant he is from the Church. I think we can stop pretending Joe Biden is a Catholic since he ignores or openly attacks Church teaching. 

Of course, like all of us, so-called “trans” people were made in God’s image and likeness, but for them, that seems to be the problem. They want to change what God has done, to alter the image and likeness He created. In other words, they and their enablers want to assume God’s power, to become little gods able to recreate humanity in their own image, and a false image at that. If we truly “follow the science” we discover that DNA is forever, that males are males and females are females, just as God made them.

The timing of the president’s proclamation also seems a bit unusual. Just days before, a transgender woman had slaughtered six people, including three young children, at a Christian school in Nashville. She was killed by a team of courageous and competent police officers who responded and surely saved many more lives. Since then, some in the trans community have called her Nashville’s seventh victim, even though she was the murderer of six innocent people, and certainly no victim. To emphasize their obvious disdain for those six victims in that Christian school, a radical trans mob, led by several legislators, stormed the Tennessee legislature protesting guns but not murderer or the death of Christians. It is all, of course, symptomatic of the culture of death that St. John Paul described in his 1995 encyclical, Evangelium vitae (The Gospel of Life): 

“…this situation, with its lights and shadows, ought to make us all fully aware that we are facing an enormous and dramatic clash between good and evil, death and life, the ‘culture of death’ and the ‘culture of life.’ We find ourselves not only ‘faced with’ but necessarily ‘in the midst of’ this conflict: We are all involved and we all share in it, with the inescapable responsibility of choosing to be unconditionally pro-life” (Evangelium vitae, 28).

Trans, pro-abortion, LGBTQ, and all the rest…it’s all of one piece, all part of Satan’s effort to undermine and destroy the domestic church, that is, the family, and to lead people away from God and His one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. The deceiver, who was “a murderer from the beginning…a liar and the father of lies” [Jn 8:44], uses whomever he can to spread evil throughout God’s creation. In the end, of course, he will fail, but how many souls will he take with him? 

As Christians we cannot sit on the sidelines and passively observe the battle. Like the tourists at Bull Run, we must eventually recognize and accept our involvement. 

Reflection: Divine Mercy Novena - Day 6

Once, when I saw Jesus in the form of a small child, I asked, 'Jesus, why do you now take on the form of a child when You commune with me? In spite of this, I still see in You the infinite God, my Lord and Creator.' Jesus replied that until I learned simplicity and humility, He would commune with me as a little child" (St. Faustine's Diary, 335).

Many years ago, Fr. Adam Domanski, a Polish priest and friend, gave me a copy of St. Faustina’s Diary. I’ll confess, I didn’t read it right away, but when I finally got around to opening the book, I could hardly put it down.

And when I read those words you just heard, I thought immediately of St. Therese, the Little Flower. For she, like St. Faustina, came to understand the necessity of approaching our God with the humility and innocence of a small child. Indeed, as St. Therese wrote:

 “…I am too small to climb the rough stairway of perfection…then… I read these words coming from the mouth of Eternal Wisdom: ‘Whoever is a little one, let him come to me.’ And so I succeeded. I felt I had found what I was looking for… for this I had no need to grow up, but rather I had to remain little and become this more and more.”

Such an attitude, of course, goes against everything the world tells us. Can anything be more countercultural? To try to remain childlike…but not childish. For as our Lord taught St. Faustina, to be childlike is to embrace simplicity and humility.

So often you and I try to complicate our relationship with God when all He wants from us is our love. To love God is to embrace the simple truth of the Gospel. It’s not complicated. You don’t have to be a theologian; in fact, that’s probably an obstacle.

Realize, too, that humility is simply the byproduct of reality. As St. Faustina reminds us, our God is “the infinite God, my Lord and Creator.” Knowing this, accepting it, believing it can do nothing but drive us to humility.

These two holy women, then, have taught us so much about becoming a spiritual child. We must learn and accept our total dependence on our God, so we can lead a life of trust and abandonment. We need to let God carry us to holiness. As Saint Therese confessed:

"What pleases Him is seeing me loving my littleness and poverty, the blind hope that I have in His mercy."

Childlike trust is possible only by God's merciful love towards all sinners. His mercy is bigger than any sins we may have committed. Let us always try to approach God with love, and with confidence in His mercy. To live in simplicity and humility is to rid ourselves of all that draws us away from God. When we've sinned, we must throw ourselves, like a child, into the arms of God's mercy. That's the beauty of the sacrament of reconciliation. God always waits for us with open arms.

Anxiety comes from worry, worry about that over which we have little or no control. Don’t worry about the past or the future. Live in the present moment as a child does. Interestingly, the older I get, the more I come to accept this. Children and saints seem to find lots of joy by living in the here and now. Let's join them, forgetting the sins of the past, and trusting that God will take care of our future.

Homily: Wednesday in the Octave of Easter

Readings: Acts3:1-10; Ps 105; Lk 24:13-35

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The Road to Emmaus began, as conversion often does, in despair or shattered faith or both – two people caught up in themselves and in their humanity.

Despite all they had heard, all they saw Him do, despite His promises, and their hope that He was the Messiah…despite it all, when they came face to face with Jesus’ death, their faith all but evaporated.

“They were downcast…Jesus, who was a prophet...we were hoping He would be the one to redeem Israel…” [Lk 24:17,19, 21]

We were hoping…

...a prophet...a redeemer...we hoped...

But now, unwilling to believe in the Resurrection, unwilling to accept the truth about Jesus, they had abandoned their hopes.

And so, headed away from Jerusalem, away from the Apostles, the Church, they were returning to the lives they led before they met Jesus.

It’s there, in sorrow and despair, as they try to leave Jesus behind, that their conversion begins. It's there they meet Him once again, along the Way.

It begins with Jesus Himself. He knows their sorrow, sees into their hearts, and communicates the life that fills His being: the life of grace, a gift that has an immediate effect.

Unknowingly moved by God’s grace, they turn to Jesus and listen.

Yes, it always begins with Jesus, the Eternal Word of God, so it shouldn’t surprise us that Jesus turns to the Revealed Word of God. He turns to Scripture.

All of Sacred Scripture – both the Old and New Testaments -- has only one ultimate purpose: to lead us to Jesus Christ.

Of course, at this point in salvation history, there was no New Testament. As Luke wrote:

“Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, He interpreted to them what referred to Him in all the Scriptures” [Lk 24:27].

And the result?

“Were not our hearts burning within us while He spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?” [Lk 24:32]

That’s when conversion begins, brothers and sisters. It begins when you encounter Jesus on the Way and hear your story in Scripture.

But far too many Christians stop right there and fail to take the next logical step on their journey of faith.

It’s one thing to believe in Jesus, but it’s far more drastic to invite Him into your life, into your heart, to invite Him to stay with you, to let Him lead you on that journey.

Late on that first Easter Sunday, Jesus responds to the disciples’ invitation by celebrating the 2^nd Mass. And it’s in the Eucharist, "in the breaking of the bread", that they recognize Him.

Their faith, deepened by Scripture, is cemented by the Eucharist.

Such is the power of the Eucharist, this gift Jesus Christ has given His Church, a power beyond all comprehension, a power that brings Jesus into our hearts, into our inner selves, a power that confirms our faith so we can carry Him to others.

And now, filled with the joy that only such faith can bring, they go to the Church, to its very heart; to the Apostles and report all that they had witnessed.

“Then the two recounted what had taken place on the way and how He was made known to them in the breaking of the bread” [Lk 24:35].

They accept their call to make Christ present among men. But they do so first within the Church, the Church established by Jesus Himself.

What a marvelous story this is.

The Lord comes to us, but never forces Himself on us. He wants us to turn to Him freely, when we begin to grasp the depth of His love, a love He has placed deep within us. It's a very part of our creation, as image and likeness of God's love.

Like the disciples, we want to hold onto Him. We beg Him: “Stay with us, Lord. Our souls are shrouded in darkness and You alone are the light.  Only You satisfy this longing that consumes us.”

And He stays. He stays because He loves each of us so passionately that He will chase after us relentlessly…until the very last moments of our lives.

Conversion, then, begins when we meet Jesus on the Way. It’s deepened when we encounter Him in God’s Holy Word, and continues in the Church, where we repeatedly encounter Jesus in the sacraments.

Yes, conversion, like every good thing, begins and ends with Jesus, the Alpha and the Omega, He who loves beyond all comprehension.

That’s what true conversion is: a continual turning to God that turns despair into joy.

That’s why we need the Church; the Church is the font of grace that allows us to continue our lifelong conversion along the Way, the way of reconciliation.

The Resurrection of Jesus brings us hope, and, trusting in His promise, may we be reconciled with God and experience the touch of His mercy and goodness and forgiveness.

May we let God love us.

A Few Thoughts: Books and Other Stuff

I have a lot of books, or as Dear Diane might tell you, “He has far too many books.” Indeed, had I not bought books, but instead taken the money I have spent on them and instead invested it in almost anything else — except maybe Sam Bankman-Fried’s FTX — I’d be far more comfortable today, but not nearly as happy. Maybe I’ll make the switch to Kindle, a rarely used app stored on all my devices. It would certainly be much less expensive. But I suspect it would take me a long time to adjust psychologically from real, bound books to digitized imitations. It just ain’t the same. And there’s something reassuring and comforting about going to the right bookcase, finding the right book, then flipping through the pages to locate the right words. I often forget the exact titles of books, but for some reason recognize the “look” of their bindings or dust jackets.

Anyway, as long as I’m writing about books, here’s a quick look at two books in my library: one recent addition and another that's been there a while.

Bibi: My Story, by Benjamin Netanyahu (2022) This book, a gift from one of my sons, is a “must-read.” Regardless of your attitude toward the once and present Prime Minister of Israel, you will find this autobiography more than interesting. Like his brother, Yoni, who was killed while commanding the remarkably successful rescue mission at Entebbe, Netanyahu also served in combat as a special forces officer. But it is his subsequent life in Israeli politics that makes up the bulk of this fascinating and well-written autobiography. If you want to come to a better understanding of Israel, still our closest ally in the Near East, and its current leader, this book is a must.

The Evolution of Civilizations, by Carroll Quigley (1961). In September 1962 I began my freshman year at Georgetown University’s School of Foreign Service. I spent only that one year at Georgetown because I was fortunate enough to receive a congressional appointment to the U. S. Naval Academy where I would spend the next four years. But like every freshman at the School of Foreign Service, I took the required course on the development of civilizations taught by Carroll Quigley. To say that I enjoyed the course would be a gross understatement. Quigley taught in a large lecture hall and before the first class had ended, we were all captivated. After all, we were 18-year-old freshmen and this legendary professor simply wowed us with his knowledge and delivery. It was a form of education we had never experienced, and he left us spellbound. We listened and scribbled in our notebooks, hoping to capture the important points. We were several classes into the course before someone dared ask a question. As I recall it was an intelligent, relevant question, asked by a young Nigerian woman, and answered quickly and satisfactorily by Quigley. I was happy to receive a C for my first semester grade, not a particularly impressive grade, but better than the majority of students who were lucky to get a D. My class notes disappeared long ago, but after 61 years I still have the text, Quigley’s book, The Evolution of Civilizations. I enjoyed reading it once again a few years ago, and recommend it to anyone who desires a better understanding of how we as a society, as a part of what’s left of Western Civilization, came to be. The above link is to a 2nd edition, published posthumously in 1979.

A brief afterthought. I recently came across an article — “Is Georgetown University Committing Suicide?” — written by Quigley in 1967 and published in the university’s newspaper, The Hoya. It’s an interesting article, written over 50 years ago by someone who would have been considered a liberal, back when liberals really were liberal.

Homily: Tuesday of Holy Week

Readings: Is 49:1-6; Ps 71:1-2, 3-4a, 5ab-6ab, 15 and 17; Jn 13:21-33, 36-38

A few years ago, I read a remarkable novel by Gene Wolfe about a soldier, a mercenary who fought for the Persians during the Greek-Persian Wars in the fifth century before Christ. 

What made it so interesting is that our hero suffered a head wound that left him with almost no short-term memory. By the end of each day, he’d forgotten everything that happened the day before. And so he kept a diary on a scroll, keeping track of people, events, conversations. Each day he read the scroll, or at least parts of it.

But it really didn’t help him very much, because so much of life is defined by relationships with others. For him, all others were strangers, even those who’d normally be considered close friends. Eventually he saw his affliction as a kind of blessing, and memory as a kind of curse. Lacking memory all became new and interesting. Like a child, he appreciated the world as it unfolded before his eyes.

Anyway, I couldn’t help but think of this book as I reread John’s Gospel the other day. We’ve heard or read the Gospel story so often that the wonder of it all can be lost. Thanks to our memories, we know what will happen next, and this can cause us to ignore that which is most meaningful. This time, as I read John, I tried to read it as if for the first time, as if I were one of the disciples, living these events without the benefit of hindsight.

What struck me was how reasonable the disciples seemed in their on-again, off-again belief. Before I’d always been exasperated with them and found myself saying, “Oh, c’mon guys, how stupid can you be? Haven’t you figured out who Jesus is?” But now, I could even empathize with the Pharisees.

I found myself viewing the Gospel from a human point of view, a perspective that also caused me to see both Peter and Judas differently. Both men were put to the test, weren’t they? And both failed miserably.

Judas Departs

And yet, when we look at them, we can’t help but notice the difference. Judas deliberately betrayed his Master. We can’t fully grasp his motives, but from all indications it was a cold and calculated act. 

But Peter…Peter acted impulsively, out of human weakness and cowardice. He neither intended, nor expected to do what he did. And in a moment of weakness, Peter’s bravado crumbled. He denied His Lord with an oath and a curse.

Peter's Betrayal

Peter seems to be one of those guileless people whose words mirrored his thoughts, who always spoke with his heart, even though he would ultimately betray those words because of a weak will. Peter vows to die for Jesus. It’s a vow he will break that very night, but one he will ultimately keep, years later.

But Judas…he makes no vow that night, but in his treachery, he brings about Jesus' death, a death that redeems us. John tells us Satan entered into Judas when he rejected Jesus and departed to complete his deadly errand.

That’s what Satan can do, brothers and sisters, but only if we let him. He can twist love and turn it into hate. He can turn holiness into pride, discipline into cruelty, affection into complacency, trust into despair.

Peter, though, even in his sinfulness, rejected Satan and continued to trust in Jesus. He continued to trust in our loving, forgiving God. While Judas, in his sinfulness, fell into despair, a despair that denies forgiveness, a despair that denies love, a despair that rips any vestige of hope from the heart.

Brothers and sisters, we know we’re all sinners. We all betrayers of sorts. But I like to think you and I are more like Peter, sinners who still love the Lord, and who never forget how much He loves us, and how willing He is to forgive us, again and again.