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.

Showing posts with label Conversion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Conversion. Show all posts

Sunday, January 21, 2024

Homily: Third Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B

Readings: Jon 3:1-5,10; Ps 25; 1Cor 7:29-31; Mk 1:14-20
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One theme present in today’s readings is time, or perhaps more specifically, the passage of time. Of course, at my age – and I suspect this is true for a few of you – the passage of time is very evident.

When we were children, time crept by, carrying us slowly and deliberately through our young lives. What a blessing this was! The movement of time let us anticipate and savor so much of life – to observe, learn, absorb all that we encountered…and if we were fortunate, to distance us from the not so good.

For several years, Diane and I took foster children into our home. We had four children of our own, but we took on emergency cases, children who often came from difficult family situations.

Amazingly, regardless of the tumult and confusion these little ones had endured, they were often able to set it aside. Moved by love for their parents, their fervent hope was to return, to return to a renewed family where all would be set right. One need only look at a child to see the true manifestation of hope as a virtue.

But as we age, time moves along more quickly, doesn’t it? It hurries us through our days, pushing us relentlessly to the very culmination of our lives. It’s as if time, like today’s readings, pleads with us, reminding us we cannot bargain with it; that for each life, time has a limit, one that can come on quickly.

In our second reading St. Paul doesn’t pull any punches, but comes right out and tells the Corinthians and us that, “time is running out…the world in its present form is passing away.”

Paul wants us to be ready, to prepare for all that is to come, to prepare for God’s transformation of the world, and to prepare for judgment. He calls us to prepare – not by our own power, but through God’s gift of grace.

For God comes to us. He comes to us here in His Word, proclaimed in our hearing, entering into our minds and hearts.

He comes to us in the Eucharist, joining our very being with His Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, joining us to one another in this shared Communion. Do we ever think of that? As we depart here today, we are surrounded by the Real Presence of Jesus in each other. Yes, through the Eucharist each of us becomes a God-bearer, called to take Jesus Christ to others.

He comes to us, too, when we encounter Him daily, especially in His least brothers and sisters. Do we see Christ in them? At the Wildwood Soup Kitchen, we told our volunteers, “We don’t serve meals; we serve Jesus Christ.” But do those we serve, experience Jesus in us? Do they turn to us in expectation, in hope? That marvelous writer, the late Flannery O’Connor, once wrote to a friend: “You will have found Christ when you are concerned with other people’s suffering and not your own.”

How foolish we are when we ignore these daily encounters. And yet so many of us do just that when we make the mistake of thinking the little slice of time we’ve been given belongs to us.


"Follow me and I will make you fishers of men."

The apostles didn’t make that mistake. They had encountered Jesus in the flesh – hearing, seeing, touching Him – and realized that they had been called, called in God’s time, not theirs. They had no time to do anything but drop their nets, turn away from their former lives, and follow Jesus. They didn’t fully understand it, not then, but moved by the Spirit, they knew it was a special time.

Indeed, in that same brief Gospel passage from Mark, Jesus begins His public ministry with the words, “This is the time of fulfillment.” Here is Jesus, the Lord of History, standing at the very center of all time, bringing everything that went before to fulfillment – truly, a most special time. The very thought of the Incarnation, God’s thought, was made in eternity, outside of time itself. And with His coming, everything changed.

The time of the Old Covenant pointed forward, away from itself, to Jesus Christ, its fulfillment. Yes, Jesus tells us, all of time that came before, every moment from the creation of time itself out of eternity, is brought to completion. His coming thrust us into God’s time; and Jesus, our God become man, is now ever-present.

Yes, indeed, it’s His time; it’s God’s time, for Jesus goes on to tell us: “The Kingdom of God is at hand.” To be sure, then, this fulfillment of time also means the time of the Kingdom of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

But other than this, Jesus really tells us very little about this time, or what we can expect as it unfolds. He tells us only that God has acted and fulfilled all. Then, continuing His teaching at that first moment of His ministry, Jesus commands us to act as well – for we must do our part.

“Repent,” Jesus commands, “and believe in the Gospel.”

Instead of telling us what we can expect, Jesus tells us what God expects of us. First, we are to repent. Translated from the Greek, metanoia, it means a change of mind and heart.

Time and change — repentance calls us to look back, if only to acknowledge the sinfulness of our lives; but then, filled with hope, to look forward to conversion, to forgiveness, and to the joy of the Good News. Jesus calls us to faith, to accept the Gospel, and to love our God and to love each other. Then, with minds and hearts turned toward God, we can experience the surprising joy of the Good News.

Sisters and brothers, Jesus spoke those words to the people of Galilee gathered around Him that day. He spoke to each one of them, personally, individually, calling them to accept His gift of faith, calling them to repentance, conversion, and joy. And He speaks this message to each us as well; for we, too, are called…and as Paul reminds us, “time is running out.”

Are we like the people of Nineveh? Like all of us they needed to repent. They had turned from God…until He placed that ultimatum before them. God set a 40-day time limit to their lives, and when they heard Jonah’s message, the message of the most reluctant of all the prophets, they realized their time was running out.

But they didn’t wait, not for a moment. No, they acknowledged their sins, turned to God in repentance, and He lifted the dire sentence He had placed on them.

Nineveh Repents

Repentance, conversion, salvation, and joy.

What about our time? People move here to our little corner of the world to have the time of their lives, don’t they? But all too often they forget that the time of their lives is coming all too quickly to an end.

Christ’s message, then, is one of urgency. It’s a message that demands an answer. To put it off is to run the risk of missing the coming of the Kingdom into our lives.

This Gospel message is for every single one of us, for all of humanity stretched out over the entire span of time. It’s a message aimed directly at the heart, in which God marks each of us for repentance, and for the salvation He desires for us.

Brothers and sisters, that we're here today means you and I believe in the Good News of Jesus Christ, in the salvation He offers us. Our Lord calls us to live that belief in lives that glorify God by loving and serving Him and each other.

Have you and I done much God-glorifying lately? Maybe it’s time to give it a try. Then, through the grace of God, we really can have the time of our lives.


Monday, October 23, 2023

Intellect and Will: Rarely Do the Twain Meet

Confronted by all the hatred and stupidity evident in both our world and our country, I try to view it all from an eternal or more comprehensive perspective. It’s remarkable and disturbing that so many human beings seem to have lost or, at best, misplaced their humanity. We — at least some of us — believe that God, by creating us in His image and likeness, imbued us with both intellect and will, gifts that define our humanity and separate us from other earthly creatures. Sadly, far too many of us do not apply either of these gifts very well, or focus only on one and ignore the other. 

Leadership, of course, demands the effective, coordinated application of both intellect and will. A leader with a keen intellect, who strives to understand the situation facing him, but lacks the courage to make a meaningful decision and apply his will correctly is essentially powerless. Fundamentally he knows what he should do but fears doing it. As you might expect, the results are usually catastrophic. I fear that our president and those who surround him have succumbed to this failing whenever the real interests of our nation are at stake. Instead they focus the administration’s will on a collection of “woke” sideshows that seem only to undermine our culture and its moral and spiritual roots. I trust they will soon come to recognize the nature of the challenges facing them and develop the will to act courageously and decisively in the defense of our civilization. I won’t hold my breath, though. Ideologues rarely change their core beliefs unless they undergo a radical conversion. St. Paul is among the most obvious examples. Actively involved in the murder and imprisonment of first-generation Christians, he didn’t change; God changed him. As Christians we must pray for a global metanoia, a Pauline-like conversion through which God will change the hearts and minds of those striving to destroy His Church and suppress His holy Word.

But the willful leader who lacks understanding can be equally, perhaps more, dangerous. By failing to use his intellect and grasp the reality of the situation, including its moral aspects, he is motivated only by ignorance and emotion. This most often leads to very destructive results. For example, the terrorist, blinded and consumed by the ideology that motivates him, applies his will amorally and, focused solely on the attainment of the ideological goal, leaves his intellect far behind. This is why negotiation with committed and thoroughly indoctrinated terrorists is inevitably fruitless. Driven by their ideology, they are unmoved by arguments based on truth and morality. The only truth is their truth; all else are signs of weakness. They will take advantage of the weaknesses of others and use them to achieve their ideological ends. At one point in our diplomatic history, we refused to negotiate with terrorists because it was immoral and inevitably led to a degradation of the current situation. Now we not only negotiate with the demonic, but also allow it to dictate the terms. As I have said elsewhere, the willful, especially those captivated by evil, respect only power and the willingness to apply it.

Do I side with the Israelis in the current conflict? Yes, indeed — not because they are perfect, because they’re not. Like every nation, including our own, they have done some very stupid and immoral things. But they at least struggle to do what is right. All those Americans protesting in our streets and on our campuses in support of Hamas are too ignorant or too filled with hate to understand the idiotic slogans they chant. What to do with them? Because as a nation we respect free speech, about all we can do is shame them, make them understand that actions and words have consequences that might affect their current or future lives, and inundate them with the truth. And if Israel destroys Hamas, support for this specific terrorist group will likely fade away quickly. And most importantly pray for our ally Israel.


Wednesday, October 18, 2023

Overcoming Hatred and Evil

"There will be peace in the Middle East only when the Arabs love their children more than they hate Israel.” ~ Golda Meir

Have you been listening to the ongoing controversy about the attack on the Gaza hospital? If you haven't, you must be stranded on a desert island awaiting rescue. Apparently, according to Hamas (a collection of rapists, torturers, and murderers of women and children), as well as every Islamic nation, and most Western media, Israeli aircraft bombed a Gaza hospital and killed hundreds of patients and medical personnel. Did the mainstream media question this assertion by Hamas, an organization whose leaders cannot open their mouths without lying? Did they tell us they were investigating these claims to see if they were true? No, they simply accepted them as true. But then Israel stated it has extremely convincing evidence that the catastrophe at the hospital resulted from an errant missile fired by Islamist terrorists supporting Hamas. Our own intelligence agencies have confirmed the same. And, believe me, anyone who knows anything about the effects of bombing know full well the damage was not the result of a bomb dropped by an aircraft. This has been generally ignored by all the usual suspects who, as expected, accept the word of baby killers and rapists over the that of the Israeli government and our intelligence agencies. One underlying belief that motivates all those accusing Israel, or just blindly accepting the Hamas lies, is what we like to call anti-Semitism, which I will translate into the far more descriptive, “hatred of Jews,” especially those who live in Israel.

Of course, our president, while declaring his full support for Israel, just can’t bring himself to mention the nasty elephant in the room: the terrorist Islamic Republic of Iran. Addressing the states that support Hamas and hate Israel, which presumably includes Iran, he tells them all not to do anything rash by saying, “Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.” What exactly does that mean? If our enemies don’t know, they will logically assume we don’t either. The president’s words are certainly no real threat to those who plan to do Israel and us real harm. How much more effective it would be if President Biden simply told them bluntly that by joining in this conflict, they might well precipitate World War III. To prevent this we would be forced to attack them in their homelands, destroying their military and industrial infrastructures. It would seem, however, the administration will continue to deal with our enemies as if they were rational beings. But that is not the case. Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, and too many others are zealots who have no problem sacrificing their own people for their quasi-religious cause. Life and death mean little to those driven solely by their hateful ideology. These are not easy people to deal with, but one thing we know: they respect power only when believe it will be used against them.

The next few months should be very interesting. Sadly, Hamas is run and staffed by vicious people so there’s little chance they will change without God’s help. This is true also of Hezbollah, Iran, and far too many others blinded by sheer hatred. Continued peace for Israel will likely require a lengthy and challenging effort to destroy the war-making capability of Hamas and remove it from power in Gaza. There is much our nation can do to lessen the threat to Israel, and the greater threat to Western civilization. I’m just not very confident our current political leadership has the courage and the will to do what must be done. We pray for peace, but for continuing peace. Pray, too, for the conversion of all who despise the Lord and His people. After all, with God, all things are possible.
 

Monday, April 10, 2023

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 2nd 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.


Thursday, January 27, 2022

Homily: Conversion of St. Paul

Readings: Acts 22:3-16; Ps 117; Mk 16:15-18                          

The call to conversion by Jesus can come at the most inopportune times. Recall how Peter and Andrew, James and John were working hard at their profession as fishermen when Jesus showed up and called them away.

“Follow me and I’ll make you fishers of men” [Mk 1:17].

They probably didn’t have a clue about what this would mean for them, but they followed, nonetheless.

Then there was Matthew, the tax-collector. He had a sweet deal going, collecting taxes for the Romans, and pocketing plenty of cash for himself. But Jesus comes along and simply says, “Follow me!”, and Matthew drops everything [Mk 2:14].

Imagine what their friends and relatives thought. You’re doing what? With whom? And you’re leaving everything behind…your business, your family, everything?

Called by Jesus these practical, down-to-earth men willingly gave up everything for something they did not yet understand. Yes, Jesus wasn’t just some itinerant preacher. Obviously, there was something very different about Him, something beyond normal human experience.

Imagine, too, what the future apostles thought when John the Baptist pointed out Jesus to them: "Behold! The Lamb of God!" [Jn 1:29] Behold the sacrificial lamb, the one who will give His life for the world. Jesus was something more than special. He was, as Peter would later profess, “The Christ, the Son of the Living God!” [Mt 16:16]

But not everyone agreed. One was a young Jew named Saul. He was a Pharisee, a Jew of the tribe of Benjamin, a native of the cosmopolitan city of Tarsus in the region of Celicia in Asia Minor. As Paul later described it, Tarsus was “no mean city” [Acts 21:39].

Yes, indeed, Saul was no peasant. Paul’s family was apparently distinguished enough that the emperor had made them Roman citizens, a rare honor. And for his fellow Jews, he had the prestige of being schooled by the famous and learned Gamaliel.

As a Pharisee, now in Jerusalem, Saul had no patience for the new and dangerous sect that worshiped this Jesus of Nazareth as Messiah and Son of God. What a blasphemy! This Jesus could be only a false Messiah, for He had been crucified as a criminal, and had preached such foolishness as the brotherhood of Jew and Gentile.

Certain of himself and his mission, arrest warrants in hand, Saul was on his way to Damascus, 135 miles distant, to root out the followers of this Jesus and bring them back in chains for prosecution. But it is here, along this road to Damascus, that Jesus calls him. 

Knocked to the ground, blinded, overwhelmed by the voice of God, Saul is accused of persecuting Jesus Himself. But Jesus has plans for Saul. Renamed Paul, he is in God’s own words, “His chosen instrument.” This zealous Jew will now carry Jesus, the living and incarnate Word of God, to the world, to both Jew and Gentile.

Paul’s calling might have been exceptional in manner, but it was really no different from the calling of every Christian. For, just like Paul, we are all called to follow Jesus in holiness, to enter into an ongoing conversion; and like Paul it is our response that makes the difference. We are all called to the apostolate, to be apostles of Jesus Christ, to be the ones who are sent.

God’s voice comes to us all, that inner voice that brings both a calm acceptance and a restlessness to obey. It speaks to us in the words of the prophet, revealing all that God wants of us, dispelling uncertainty and fear, calling us to respond with our entire being.

Can we abandon ourselves, our autonomy? Can we accept that we too are called, we too are chosen to do, to give, to speak, to pass on to others all that He has given us, done for us? Can we make this our prayer? “What would you have me do, Lord? Tell me and I will do it.”

As Pope Paul VI preached: “…it becomes a need to hasten, to work, to do everything one can to spread the Kingdom of God, to save other souls, to save all souls."

Of course, God gives us a choice. But how did St. Paul put it?

Christ Jesus has made me his own” [Phil 3:12].

That’s right, like Paul we belong to Jesus Christ now. To turn away from that would be foolishness indeed.


Thursday, February 13, 2020

Homily: 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (26 Jan 2020)


I have embedded a video of this homily below. The complete text follows the video:




Readings: Is 8:23-9:3; Ps 27; 1 Cor 1:10-13,17; Mt 4:12-23

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“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” [Mt 4:17]
With these words Jesus began His public ministry. Has anyone ever directed these words at you? In confession I’ve never had a priest say, “Repent, deacon, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” And in all those retreats I’ve made no retreat master ever began a reflection by standing tall at the podium, pointing at us and saying, “Repent, sinners, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” I suppose these words, this command, seem just a bit…well, harsh – you know, not in keeping with people’s expectations these days.

Mark, in his Gospel, has Jesus saying, “Repent, and believe in the Gospel” [Mk 1:15]. Another translation offers slightly different terms: “Be converted and accept the Gospel.” But notice, regardless of the translation, Jesus tells us that we must first repent and be converted. That’s right, before we learn about the kingdom, before we accept the good news of the Gospel, Jesus tells us to repent, to be converted.

You see, without conversion, without repentance, the Gospel really makes no sense. after all, the Gospel tells us to do all kinds of things that the world rejects.
“Love your neighbor as yourself…” [Mk 12:31]
Well, now, wait minute, shouldn’t I love myself a wee bit more? I mean, think of the effect on my self-esteem if I have to think so highly of others. Then there’s that other one: 
"Love the Lord your God with all your mind, heart, soul and strength.” [Mk 12:30]
Not much room in there for anything else. But does God expect us to take that literally? Am I supposed to put “Love God” at the beginning of every to-do list and back-burner everything else?

And what about all those other Sermon-on-the-Mount things…you know, being meek and poor in spirit, being merciful and pure of heart, thirsting for righteousness, no anger, no lust, forgive your enemies – all those counter-intuitive things. That’s no way to enjoy life or get ahead in the world.

Yes, the Gospel just doesn’t make much sense at all…unless…unless we are converted. Only then, only after we’ve changed, only after we’ve invited God into our lives and our hearts, only after we accept our sinfulness and repent, only then can we accept the Good News as Good News. Once we respond to God’s call to conversion, and realize God’s greatness and overwhelming love for us, then we can accept the Gospel with the unbounded joy its message deserves.

Is that how you respond to the Gospel? With unbounded joy? With a thirst to hear more? With a hunger you that can never be fully satisfied until you come face to face with God? Is that how you respond? If not…well, join the club, because repentance and conversion still await you. Do you sense that? Is something missing in your life? Is there an emptiness in your inner being that nothing has been able to fill?

Brothers and sisters, that’s God calling you, begging to heal you, to fill that emptiness. St. Augustine, the reluctant convert, put it best: 
“Our hearts are restless, O God, until they rest in Thee.”
That restlessness is a gift, almost sacramental; a sign pointing to God. Is that why we’re all here at this Mass, to satisfy the longing? Is this the choice we’ve made? Do we come together as a community of believers in thanksgiving and praise? Do we come, yearning for God’s Word and celebrating His goodness? Do we come to feast on the miraculous gift of the Eucharist from which we receive the spiritual sustenance we need to grow in the Christian life. 

Or are we here out of habit, to fulfill some sense of social or cultural obligation? “Of course I go to Mass. Isn’t that what Catholics do?” That’s a non-response, a static, unchanging, act of non-faith. We can’t respond to God’s call and grow in faith if our motivation is grounded in something worldly.
Jesus calls us to continual conversion, conversion leads to growth, and growth demands change.
“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”
His call to conversion is unambiguous: Repent! Why? To enter His Kingdom. Yes, brothers and sisters, we’re all sinners. Sinners need forgiveness. Forgiveness needs repentance.

God invites us all. No one’s overlooked. He wants to forgive each of His children, just as He wants to rule over each of us. But unlike human rulers, God forces Himself on no one. We accept the invitation by making a choice. 

Gradually, as His ministry unfolded, Jesus revealed more and more about His Kingdom, a Kingdom extending beyond time and space, all the way to eternity – a spiritual kingdom, a kingdom of love and holiness; hence the call for repentance. A Kingdom of holiness cannot admit the profane, just as a Kingdom of love must reject hatred. 

Oh, we all want to heed the call, if only it didn’t involve change. If only it didn’t place so many demands on me. If only my life weren’t going so well right now. And so we complicate God’s simple, straightforward call by cluttering it with our own issues. Yes, we want to respond…but on our terms. 

But that’s not how it works. How can we enter the Kingdom but reject the authority of the King? We can’t have it both ways. To accept the Kingdom demands conversion. Just look how the Apostles handled it. 

Jesus called Peter and Andrew and “at once they left their nets and followed Him” [Mt 4:20]. Moments later, He called James and John and, “immediately they left their boat and their father and followed Him” [Mt 4:22].

Do you detect a sense of urgency? Called by Jesus, the Apostles don’t think it over. They don’t weigh the pros and cons. They don’t hire a consultant to advise them on their career change. They acted in faith because they heard God’s call. They hadn’t yet accepted the Gospel, but they accepted Jesus, the very Word of God Himself. 

Called to conversion, these most ordinary of men immediately left everything behind and followed; and that’s all God asked of them…for now. They hadn’t a clue about what lay ahead – mercifully it was hidden from them – but they knew their old lives were gone for good. That’s what conversion is: a continual, lifelong process of leaving things behind. 

How about you and me? What does God want us to leave behind? Have we asked Him? God calls each of us in unique and individual ways. Some, like the rich young man in the Gospel, too attached to his possessions, are called to radical action: 
“Sell everything you have, give the money to the poor, and come, follow me.” [Mt 19:21]
Only this would bring the happiness he sought. But he rejected Jesus’ call, and went away sad. 

Others, like the woman caught in adultery, are simply told, 
“Go and sin no more.” [Jn 8:11]
There’s nothing to fear from God’s call. He never calls us to that which we cannot do. But we must first hear and accept His call. Once we do, once we turn our lives over to His rule, He provides the grace we need to persevere.
“Be still and know that I am God.” [Ps 46:10]
These words sung by the psalmist still apply. Step away from the noise of the world and prayerfully listen to God’s call. Step away from your busy lives to be still in God’s presence. Spend some quiet time in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. Listen to His voice.

God calls each of us. It matters not how old or young we are. We all sense it don’t we? We shift in the pew and stare down at our hands as the Spirit beckons those very hands to abandon the nets that ensnare us, all those entanglements that keep us from answering God’s call. We experience the tension. The mystic calls it “the holy longing.”

As the gifts are carried forward, know that God is carrying a gift to you, a call that leads to eternal life. For God is calling you and me to a new way of life, to something far greater than the world can ever give. 

And because He’s a loving God, He never stops calling.

Friday, January 31, 2020

Homily: Monday, 2nd week in Ordinary Time

I have embedded a video of this homily below. Preached on Monday, January 20, 2020, at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church in Wildwood, Florida, the homily's complete text (more or less) follows the video.


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Readings: 1 Sam 15:16-23; Ps 50; Mk 2:18-22




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In today’s Gospel passage Jesus used fasting as a way to remind us to order our relationships. He instructed the Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist that the time for fasting is in both the past and the future. Those questioning Jesus seemed to see fasting as an end in itself, rather than a means to develop a hunger for God’s Word and His Presence.

Moses understood this. In Deuteronomy he instructed the people:
“He humbled you and made you hungry; then He fed you on manna that neither you nor your fathers had known before, to teach you that man cannot live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God” [Dt 8:3].
The words of Jesus and Moses and echoed as well by Samuel in our first reading when he instructs Saul that obedience to God’s will is more important than any ritual:
“Truly, obedience is better than sacrifice… presumption a crime of idolatry.” [1 Sam 15:22,23]
For so many today obedience is far from easy, for it demands humility, doesn’t it? It asks us to accept that God, and not you and I, knows what’s best for us. How often, like Saul, do we presume to know God’s will, when in truth we are merely substituting our own desires, our own will? Perhaps this is the worst form of idolatry: instead of striving to be like God – How did Jesus put it? “So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect” [Mt 5:48] – we instead try to create a god in our own image.

Remember God’s words from our responsorial psalm?
“When you do these things should I be silent? Do you think that I am like you?” [Ps 50:21]
It’s as if we are determined to misunderstand God. Just as Jesus’ disciples often misunderstood Him, it seems John’s disciples also failed to understand all that John taught them through word and deed. It would seem they really hadn’t comprehended that John fasted to persevere before the Messiah’s coming, to watch for His Presence. This, indeed, is the Presence Jesus speaks of.

Because He is present, it’s a time to celebrate His Coming, a time of joy. For the disciples, fasting will come with the Passion; for us it’s the fasting of Lent and Good Friday. But do you and I fast simply because the Church tells us to fast? Or, like Jesus in the desert, do we fast to ready ourselves, to ask for the strength we will need to answer Jesus’ call to discipleship?

Of course, our Lenten fast is followed again by the joy of Easter. Indeed, to emphasize this, the Eastern Church encourages the faithful not to fast and kneel throughout the Easter season. The time of repentance has passed.


Jesus goes on to remind the disciples that His Presence is something supremely new. He uses brief parables to make His point. He describes the joy of wedding guests in the presence of the bridegroom; then continues with examples from the people’s domestic lives: 

A patch of new, strong cloth will tear an old piece of clothing if it undergoes any stress.

And new wine, still fermenting, will expand and break an old wineskin. 

Jesus uses these common examples, asking those who hear Him to apply them as well to their spiritual lives.

To accept Jesus’ Presence, then, demands a new receptivity, a new way of thinking, the kind we hear proclaimed in the Sermon on the Mount. God’s love for us is like new wine that always demands new wineskins. In other words, we must continue to renew our relationship with Him, always ready to receive God’s call to enter more deeply into the new life that God wills for us.

Our prayer life, too, must be a continual process of renewal – renewing our relationship with Jesus, recognizing all that our loving God wants for us. 

We live in a time of expectation, brothers and sisters, a time of renewal, a time to strive for holiness, a time to turn from all that prevents us from deepening our relationship with Jesus Christ.

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

Homily: Feast of St. Mary Magdalene - July 22

Readings: Song 3:1-4b • Psalm 63 • Jn 20:1-2, 11-18
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Today we celebrate one of the great saints of the Church, one of the great saints of the Gospel, and also one of the most misunderstood saints. Today we celebrate Mary Magdalene. Even though she's mentioned a dozen times in the Gospels, we really know very little about Mary's life.

Luke and Mark both tell us that Jesus cast out seven demons from her; but what these demons were, what they represented, we simply do not know.

Over the centuries many have identified Mary with the sinful woman described in Luke, chapter 7, she who anointed Jesus at the house of Simon the Pharisee; but there's really little evidence to support this.

Some say she is Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, but the Gospel doesn't support this either. And others claim she was a prostitute, but again, there's really no evidence.

Her name indicates she probably came from Magdala, a prosperous fishing town on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee. And we're almost certain she was unmarried, since married woman were usually identified by their husband's name -- "Mary, wife of Jonah" -- but Mary is identified only by place, by the town of Magdala.

I suspect that, like many of the other women who accompanied Jesus throughout his ministry, she was a woman of means. It wasn't unusual among the Jews at that time for a woman with no brothers to inherit a father's business or property. She may even have been a wealthy widow. We just don't know.

The one thing we do know is that Mary was among Jesus' most devoted disciples.
Mary Magdalene and the Risen Jesus

And so, to be faithful to the gospel, we should emphasize Mary Magdalene as the woman whose faith remained strong when the faith of others failed.

Mary, whose love for Jesus brought her to the tomb early on that first Easter morning.

Mary, whose loyalty to the Lord made her the first witness of His Resurrection.

Mary, whose joy at what she had witnessed made her the first messenger of the Good News.

Mary, whose faith conquered all her fears as she brought God's Word to the Apostles. Little wonder she who was sent out by the Lord is often called the apostle to the Apostles.

Yes, we know very little about Mary's life, but we know about her faithfulness, don't we? And about her courage. And about her love. That is what we know about Mary.

Demons Cast Out 
What do we know about those seven demons? Nothing. Only Mary and Jesus can answer that. We can only guess. When Mary first encountered Jesus, was she perhaps afflicted by the same demons that still afflict the affluent today? Did she hear those powerful live-giving words of Jesus? Did she feel them moving into her heart, casting out the deadly words of the world, the words of the prince of lies?

We all know the Word Jesus preached. It's the same Word Mary heard.
"...whoever loses his life for my sake will save it" [Lk 9:24]. 
"...it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God" [Mt 19:24]. 
When I was hungry, thirsty, naked, sick or in prison, you weren't there [Mt 25:43-46].
The rich man begged Father Abraham to let the poor beggar bring him a drop of water. [Lk 16:24]. 
"No one can serve two masters...You cannot serve God and mammon" [Mt 6:24].  
"Your sins are forgiven" [Mk 2:5].
"Your faith has saved you. Go in peace" [Lk 7:50].
Were those the seven words Mary heard one day long ago in Galilee? Were those the seven words that forced seven horrible demons out of her heart?

...a heart Jesu emptied of all its sinfulness, all its selfishness

...a heart now open to receive Him, to love Him, to follow Him.

We just don't know, do we?

But we do know that Mary underwent a conversion, a conversion so great that she became the very model of faith and loyalty. We know that she was given new life through the healing power of God's love and forgiveness.

Perhaps Jesus appeared to Mary first because He knew she would believe. For Mary had already experienced her own resurrection, had experienced the power of God to heal and forgive, to free her from slavery to those seven demons. Who better to break the news -- the Good News -- to a sinful world?

Mary Magdalene is what every woman and every man is called to be: the sinner who became the saint.

She is living proof of the power of God's redeeming love.

She is the fruit of Christ's Resurrection.

Let us pray today for the same zeal and perseverance.

Wednesday, February 20, 2019

Homily: Wednesday 6th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Gn 8:6-13, 20-22• Psalm 116 • Mk 8:22-26
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I can't speak for anyone else, but my conversion has been a long, often painful process, one that's still ongoing. It certainly wasn't instantaneous. I didn't have a Road to Damascus experience like St. Paul. 


But God does appear to me. He appears to me again and again. He does so through the others He sends into my life. Some are called and tell me so. Not long ago one person said to me, "I was praying and God told me to come to you about this." And it's usually something about which I haven't a clue. How do I deal with that? I don't. I just turn it over to God and ask Him what to do.

But most of those He sends me are just there. They appear in my life and they have a need. I'd like to say that I'm always ready to do what I can to help, but that would be a lie. Sometimes I turn away. Sometimes I make excuses. Sometimes I give a half-hearted response or send them to someone else. And, yes, sometimes I actually turn to God and ask for His help.

Faith for me has been a journey, a process, a long process, probably much longer than the Lord would like. And I suspect that's true for most people.

This is one reason why the saints sometimes discourage me more than they encourage me. Their holiness just seems impossible to imitate. Examining their lives we see what we are called to become, but we don't really see how to get there. That's why I like it when I come across one of those slightly more scruffy saints. You know what I mean, a saint with a past, one who led a sinful life before responding to God's grace.

St. Augustine is the first to come to mind. For a good part of his life he was far from saintly, but he went on to become one of the greatest saints in the early Church. Saints like Augustine give us hope and a glimpse of the mercy of God. They show us a loving God working patiently on intractable material. They show us the path, not just the destination.

Our readings give us a glimpse of the same thing. Several of the early Church fathers describe the passage in today's first reading as a process of worldwide purification or conversion. Noah and his family were brought to a safe haven because they obeyed God's will; they found salvation through a process that took both time, effort, and total trust.

Now this becomes even more apparent in the Gospel passage we just heard. Mark tells only two stories of Jesus restoring the sight of blind men. The first is the blind man in today's reading; the other is Bartimaeus [See Mk 10:46-52].

I've always thought that Mark wants us to see these two blind men as metaphors for the Christian community.  The man from Bethsaida in today's reading stands for the condition of most Christians, while Bartimaeus stands for where Mark would like us to be.
He Laid His Hands on Him
The man from Bethsaida comes across as hard to convert. At first he's only half-healed by Jesus. Compare him to Bartimaeus, who jumps up, runs to Jesus when called, and is healed instantly.

And yet, I find myself more sympathetic to the slow healer, the reluctant blind man who regains his sight slowly over time. Notice what Jesus does with him. First He pulls him away from the others, the skeptics, the curious, from those who might hinder his journey to faith. He needs to be alone with Jesus, up-close-and-personal with God.

Jesus leads him outside the village, for in the village - the place he came from - there is blindness, spiritual blindness. Jesus then begins the cure using what is almost a sacramental rite. He puts spittle on the man's eyes and lays his hands on him. And just as sacramental grace acts in our hearts and souls, the man's sight is then restored in stages as he responds to Jesus' healing touch. Jesus lays hands on the man twice with Mark recording this remarkable miracle in three short phrases: He looked intently and was restored, and saw everything clearly.
Jesus Alone with the Blind Man
Yes, brothers and sisters, that's what true conversion does: it lets us see everything clearly. And because conversion never ceases, Jesus sent him home with a warning to avoid the village, the place of spiritual blindness, the home of those who thrive only in darkness.
St. Jerome in the Desert (Da Vinci)
St. Jerome, the great Scriptural scholar and Father of the Early Church, explains the spiritual significance of this healing for us:  
"Christ laid his hands upon his eyes that he might see all things clearly, so through visible things he might understand things invisible, which the eye has not seen, that after the film of sin is removed, he might clearly behold the state of his soul with the eye of a clean heart."
We are, then, left to consider the spiritual blindness in our own lives, the blindness that obstructs our vision preventing us from following Jesus. What's keeping you and me from being the true disciple Jesus seeks?

Allow the Lord to lay hands on you, to touch you with his grace and power that you may walk in the light of his redeeming truth and love. 

Monday, May 30, 2016

Homily: Monday, 9th Week of Ordinary Time

Readings: 2 Pt 1:2-7; Ps 91; Mk 12:1-12

Today, of course, is Memorial Day, the day when we honor those who have given their lives for the freedom we hold dear.

Offer a prayer of thanksgiving today; thank God for raising up those courageous souls so willing to sacrifice themselves so you and I can worship here this morning in freedom. Jesus said it best:

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” [Jn 15:13].
And so, today I recall my many friends who did exactly that, and I pray that, thanks to God's mercy, they now share eternal life in His presence.

Now…let’s turn to today’s Gospel.

Do you recall the scene in Saturday’s Gospel passage? The chief priests, scribes and elders had questioned Jesus’ authority, an authority they rejected even though it was accepted by the people. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience for these important men; Jesus had embarrassed them and revealed their hypocrisy. Now, in today’s Gospel, Jesus addressed these same hardened hearts with a parable.

Usually when confronted by a passage containing a parable the homily focuses on the parable’s interpretation – how it was perceived by those who first heard it and how we should understand it. But I think sometimes it’s just as important to understand the situation in which the parable was introduced. So that’s what I intend to do this morning.

Because Jesus’ disputes with the Jewish leadership were so frequent and so confrontational, it’s easy to believe that His aim was simply to expose them and condemn them. Yes, it would be easy to think this, but it would also be wrong.

In truth, Jesus hoped to soften their hardened hearts, and lead them to true conversion. In this we’re reminded of what God spoke through His prophet Jeremiah during some of Israel’s darkest days:

“I will put the fear of me in their hearts, that they may not turn from me. I will rejoice in them doing good” [Jer 32:40-41].
Jesus teaching in the Temple
God rejoices, and all heaven rejoices with Him, when the sinner returns in true conversion of heart.

Have you ever considered that one of the reasons Jesus used parables as a teaching tool is because a parable contains a promise; it includes a message of hope. Jesus, you see, is always pursuing rebellious hearts, encouraging sinners to return to Him and do so freely.

Through this parable He hoped that the priests, scribes and elders would recognize their true selves and the evil that was consuming them. It’s that shock of recognition in one’s own sinfulness that causes the listener to question his life, and to realize that he must change. But such change can come only in the presence of humility. One must be willing to see oneself as a sinner.

The priests, scribes and elders, however, are so consumed by themselves, so sure of their own holiness, so certain that their observation of the law will save them, that they cannot even conceive of the need for a Savior. But Jesus will not turn away from them. He will continue to pursue them. And He does so by exposing them, again and again, to God’s hope for them.


"...they realized that he had addressed the parable to them."
One parable after another focuses on their weaknesses, on that which separates them from true friendship with God. Jesus never loses hope in their conversion. He never grows impatient. He continues to knock, hoping they will open the door and invite Him in.

He seems to plead with them: My love for you is beyond your understanding, and will launch a steady stream of arrows, arrows of divine love, into your hearts. The Father has filled me with His wisdom. And the Spirit is ready to move within you, to change you in ways you can’t imagine, if only you will respond, if only you will make the slightest nod in my direction.

“Listen,” Jesus says, “to another parable, and understand.”

Did they come to understand? Perhaps some did, even after they had shouted out those terrifying words, “Crucify Him!” [Mk 15:13] Yes, the Father sent His Son and the tenants put Him to death. 


The Father sent His Son...
And God takes His vengeance on the unfaithful, the hardhearted, the sinful, and He does so in a most unusual, unpredictable way: 

He overwhelms them with His mercy.