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 Freedom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Freedom. Show all posts

Thursday, October 24, 2024

Homily: 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Sunday, June 19, 2022

Homily: Saturday, 11th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: 2 Chr 24:17-25; Ps 89; Mt 6:24-34

Over the years, as I’ve re-read and meditated on these words of Jesus, I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone, every single human being, is a servant. Now, this was no great theological insight on my part, since the Church has been telling us this from its very beginning. It just took me a while to figure it out.

We all serve, whether or not we actually choose to do so. We serve because we are creatures, created beings, and instinctively look to something greater than ourselves. And yet, despite our status as servants, God has given us the freedom to choose.

The question, though, is not: Will I serve? No, the important question is: Whom will I serve? Will I serve Him who promises life and joy? Or will I make an idol, a false god unworthy of my service? In my freedom, what choice will I make? Will I choose the Way, the Truth, and the Life? Or will I choose the father of lies? That’s what it really boils down to.

You see, we’re all created as children of God, to belong to Him completely. Of course, this bothers many people today, whose mistaken concept of freedom leads them to believe they are dependent on no one. Rejecting God, Who brought them into being, they turn themselves into little gods, who will not serve. The irony of it all escapes them: for they remain servants, but servants of some lesser god.

But in today’s Gospel passage Jesus doesn’t seem to be speaking to those who reject God completely, those who choose to serve only another. He’s speaking to His disciples. He’s speaking to us, to the ones who too often believe we can divide our allegiances. How did Jesus put it?

“No one can serve two masters…You cannot serve God and mammon” [Mt 6:24]

At the deepest level I think we all realize this, even though we spend very little time there. To do so can be painful as we encounter the truth about ourselves. And so, we stick to the surface, for it’s there that the world talks to us, telling us we can feed our addictions to all that the world offers, and still be “spiritual.”

We deceive ourselves into believing that we actually serve God, while loving not God but the world. We convince ourselves we can serve Him because we’re strong enough to resist evil, good enough to do good in the world, and spiritual enough to turn to God in occasional prayer and worship…all while we embrace the world, that other master.

But Jesus tells us: No! You can’t serve both. You must choose, choose the One or the other. By trying to serve two masters, we end up serving neither, therefore achieving nothing, certainly nothing lasting. Jesus calls us to make a choice: serve God or serve yourself. And if you serve yourself, your life will be defined by fruitless worry and anxiety.

In the ten verses of today’s Gospel passage, Jesus tells us again and again not to worry, just as He tells us throughout the Gospel not to fear. Worry is simply another form of fear, another symptom of our lack of faith. That’s what fear and worry are, the very opposite of faith. We spend so much of our lives worrying about and planning our future, our material, earthly future while neglecting our spiritual present.

As Christians, as disciples of Jesus Christ, we are called to trust, to turn to God in all things and live His great commandment. We are not called to love money, or fame, or power, or technology, or security, or possessions, or work, or beauty, or even golf.

No, we are to love God and love our neighbor. In his rule, St. Benedict instructed his monks: “Let nothing be preferred to the love of Christ.” Of course, none of this means we should turn away from God’s creation; after all, God proclaimed all creation as good. We can enjoy that which God has given us, so long as we enjoy it responsibly and don’t place it above our love for God and our neighbor. As Jesus revealed to St. Paul:

My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness" [2 Cor 12:9].

Perhaps recognizing our weakness is the best test. If you lost everything today, would your love for God, and the joy this love brings, be as great tomorrow?


Sunday, March 10, 2019

Homily: 1st Sunday of Lent (Year C)

Readings: Dt 26:4-10; Ps 91; Rom 10:8-13; Lk 4:1-13
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One of the more disturbing attitudes I encounter among many Catholics today is a one of mild desperation...and sometimes not so mild. They look at the world and its troubles and its sinfulness and see nothing else. It's as if they wear blinders of pessimism, forgetting that God has promised to be with us always.

Indeed, in today's first reading from Deuteronomy, we see how a people who had lived for generations in slavery reaped the benefits of God's promise of freedom.

Pessimism really has no place in the mind and heart of the Christian, for the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ, is a message of unabashed optimism. And trust me, it's alive and well in the world. In the event you're not convinced, let me share some experiences with you.

A few years ago, my wife, Diane, and I made another pilgrimage to Rome. We had a great time. But the magnificent basilicas, the ancient landmarks, the breathtaking art of Michelangelo, even the wine and pasta - it all paled in comparison to an experience in St. Peter's Square one sunny Wednesday morning.

I managed to get good seats for the audience, up on the platform, just about 30 feet from the Holy Father. But as I looked out at the huge crowd I noticed that most were young people from dozens of nations. The expressions on their faces - of expectation and joy, of optimism and deep faith - were simply beautiful. 
Pope Benedict Surrounded
Still not convinced? Well, a couple of years later I had the opportunity to visit our seminary and meet our young seminarians.

Another wonderful experience - to spend time with these young men, to share in their hopes, to pray with them, and to experience the love and optimism that define their lives. We are blessed to have future priests with such remarkable faith and total commitment. 

This, brothers and sisters, is what Lent is all about. It's a time of optimism and renewal; a time to turn away from yesterday, focus on today, and look forward expectantly to tomorrow.

Look again at today's Gospel. Jesus' time in the desert is a time for prayerful communion with the Father, a time of formation, a time to prepare Himself for His ministry and, ultimately, for His passion, death and resurrection. In many respects it was the defining turning point in His life, a sharp dividing line between His hidden private life and His public ministry.

Did Jesus have to go into the desert? Did He have to perform such a radical sacrificial act? Did He have to subject Himself to the direct and personal temptations of Satan?

Of course not! His Divinity guaranteed the outcome. He did it all for us, offering Himself to us as a model. Jesus Christ, true God and true man, like us in everything but sin, voluntarily submitted Himself to temptation.

God has given us a Redeemer whose love for us is boundless. No matter what sufferings, pains, or temptations we experience, our God leads us, giving us confidence in His mercy, since He too has experienced it all.

During these 40 days, Jesus calls us to let the Holy Spirit lead us, to confront our own personal deserts. And we all have deserts, don't we, those inhospitable places of our lives. Don't be afraid to confront them and then turn from them!

Has your relationship with God become a desert? Has your prayer life become arid, something you struggle through mechanically only on Sunday morning? 

Dou pray only when you want something from God? Have you forgotten how to thank and praise God? St. Paul, after all, instructs us to "Pray without ceasing" [1 Thes 5:17]. But what does this mean? 

Quite simply, God wants you to place everything, all your plans, burdens, worries, pains and heartaches at His feet. He'll pick them up and bear them with you. Come to Him in prayer. Share your sorrows and joys with Him, and taste His goodness.

Is your family life like a chaotic storm roaring across the desert? Has mutual respect and patient understanding been replaced by arguments and bitterness aimed at the hearts of those you love? Forgive as the Father forgives; love as the Father loves. Come together in prayer and God will unfold miracles in your lives.

Is yours a desert of self-absorption or materialism? Do you ignore the hungers of others, concentrating instead on your own needs and wants? People hunger for more than bread. They hunger for a kind word, for someone who will listen, for a reassuring touch. And most of all they hunger for God's love. Will you be the one who brings it to them?
The Bread of Life
Do you suffer in the desert of habitual sin? Put it behind you. Taste the forgiveness and mercy of God this Lent in the sacrament of reconciliation. The temptations which Jesus rejected are the same temptations we all face, temptations that ultimately merge into the temptation to pride, that dark polluted spring, the source of all other sin.

Satan tempted Jesus just as he tempts us: to trust in one's own power; to trust in the power of the world; to trust in Satan's power, the power of evil. They all amount to the same thing. That's the great temptation: to imagine we can achieve what only God can give.

Remember how they taunted Jesus on the cross:
"He trusted in God; let God deliver him if he wants to" [Mt 27:43].
No angels came to Jesus on the Cross, but God's plan was not suspended. Abandoned on this side of the tomb, His trust in the Father never wavered. Nothing separates Jesus from the Father, not a desert or a Cross. Jesus sets His heart on the Father, believes and trusts in Him. And the Father vindicates the Son when and where He chooses. 

Through His resurrection Jesus assures us that victory is ours if only we persevere in faith and trust. This is why the Church calls Lent "a joyous season." Yes, Jesus calls us to repentance, but He doesn't stop there. "Repent and believe in the Gospel" [Mk 1:15]. Yes, indeed, believe in the Good News.

Brothers and sisters, the Good News is life, Christ's life and your life, life here and eternal, life now and forever. Lent is about today, not yesterday. Today is life. Breathe it in and thank God for every life-giving breath.

If you want to repent, live! Come alive! Let Christ live in you and through you. Open your life to Him and to the will of the Father. 

Yesterday is sin. Today is love. God's love for us and the love He wants us to share with others. It's the love that keeps His commandments, the love that overcomes even death, the crucified love that takes away the sin of the world.

If you want to repent, love! Love God and love one another.

Yesterday is despair, the despair of a world without a living, loving God. The despair of horoscopes and palm-readers, and séances, the despair of New-agers resigned to become one with an uncaring universe, the despair of gloomy theologians preaching the heresy of predestined damnation.

Today is hope. Hope in God's message of love and forgiveness, the Good News of eternal life.
If you want to repent, hope! Come to know the mercy of God.

Yesterday was slavery, slavery to sin, to pride, to fear. But today is freedom! Not license, the false freedom of doing whatever we want, but true freedom, the freedom to choose good over evil.

If you want to repent, be free! Open yourself to God in free obedience to His commandments, and to each other in unforced love.

And you don't have to do it alone. Indeed, you can't do it alone. Call upon the Lord and He will send His Holy Spirit to lead you just as the Sprit led Jesus.

As St. Paul reminds us in today's first reading:
"Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved" [Rom 10:13].
Can anything be better than that?

Friday, March 23, 2018

Homily: Monday 5th Week of Lent

Readings: Dan 3:14-20, 91-92, 95; Dan 3:52-56; John 8:31-42

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A few years ago I received a small package from the Department of Defense. I wasn't expecting anything from them, but when I got home and opened it, I found it contained a bunch of medals. Among them were medals I didn't even know I'd been awarded. And with two exceptions they all dated back to the Vietnam conflict.

I lined them up on the dining room table and thought, if only briefly: Well, will you look at that, McCarthy. You're a genuine hero.  That thought lasted about two seconds, because it wasn't the truth. I was no hero.

Heroes do remarkable things, far beyond what anyone might expect. I did only what was expected of me, what I was ordered to do. Indeed, if I hadn't done the things for which I received those medals, I would have been court-martialed.

But I knew many men who really were true heroes, ordinary men who did extraordinary things. Today's first reading brought some of them to mind, the real heroes - the same kind of people we read about in the Book of Daniel. Three young men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, follow their consciences and profess their belief in God - their faith that God will be with them regardless of the consequences.
fire, and the fourth looks like a son of God.”
For them, the issue was clear: they had no choice but to do God's will, what was good and acceptable. The three believed themselves to be free to do nothing but what is right, what their faith obliged them to do. Believing in the one, true God, they knew their greatest freedom rests in doing God's will. And in their faith, God saves them.

Jesus, of course, understood this well. That's why He declared,
"I came down from heaven not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me" [Jn 6:38].
Unlike the three men in the furnace, Jesus wasn't saved from the violent death of crucifixion. And it was through Jesus' obedience that He expressed his divine Sonship. This is emphasized in the Letter to the Hebrews where we read,
"Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him" [Heb 5:8-9].
Our whole existence, then, as disciples of Jesus flows from the mysterious roots of our souls where we are called and sustained in supernatural life beyond all human ability to comprehend. How did Jesus put it in today's Gospel passage?
"If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free" [Jn 8:31-32].
The truth not only sets us free, but we are free only in truth. Too many today think freedom means the right to choose anything - good or evil. But that's not freedom; that's license. Jesus tells us that true freedom is only the freedom to choose what is good - for once we choose evil, we cease being free. Instead we become slaves, slaves to that evil, slaves to sin.

Brothers and sisters, our lives are marked by thousands of decisions and actions, normal everyday responses to the opportunities we confront. But at our core, as Christians, like Jesus we are being begotten by God, and receive a divine life similar to Jesus. And at those crucial moments in our lives we are called to be heroic.

Like the three young men in the furnace, if we want to be truly free, we have no other choice.

Like the true heroes I knew back in my days as a Navy pilot, like those willing to sacrifice all for the sake of others, we have no other choice.

As we respond to life's challenges with heroic obedience, the most divine part of us, the image of God within us, rises to the surface for all to see. When we act according to God's will, in the true freedom God desires for us, our true selves emerge most fully, most courageously, most divinely. God's will always leads to the good, and nothing can interfere with what is good.

Do you believe that? Really believe it?

I hope so because it's the truth. And the truth - the truth of that deep divine life we are all called to share - that truth will set us free.

Saturday, August 5, 2017

Multicultural Disaster

If you've got the stomach to read any of my politically oriented posts, you'll know that when it comes to politics and the things of the world, I'm a bit of a pessimist...perhaps more than a bit. I've actually come to believe that, as a nation, we have probably reached the point of no-return. By this I mean that the United States of America will never again be the beacon of freedom it once was. The statist elites are so deeply imbedded in all levels of our societal infrastructure, I see no way to exorcise them. And that's exactly what our society needs: an exorcism. Perhaps our loving God will take pity on us and change the hearts of a people who have strayed so far from their real home.

For generations those who suffered persecution, those whose religion, class, or ethnicity had trapped them in a continual cycle of poverty, looked to America as a nation where freedom reigned. In America they could start over and achieve a degree of success unattainable elsewhere. 

Not one of my grandparents was born in this country. Three were born in Ireland and one, also of Irish descent, was born in Canada. They came here seeking freedom, the freedom to work and succeed so they could feed and house their families, educate their children, and freely practice their faith. They didn't feel entitled because no entitlements existed. They took whatever jobs they could find, learned skills that were in demand, and worked hard. There was nothing unique about my grandparents; they were just like millions of others from around the world who came here to experience that same freedom. No longer were these immigrants simply Irish, or Italian, or Russian, or Greek, or British, or German. No longer did they define themselves solely by their class or religion. Now they were Americans! Now they were free men and women, no longer beholden to an upper class or a bureaucracy that lorded over them, but personally responsible for their own lives. I can recall my father, born in 1909, saying that he was most proud of his Irish forebears because "they had the guts to leave the blasted place and come to America!" Amen, Dad.

When they arrived here, they encountered hardships, and bigotry, and hatred. The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution didn't stop citizens from sinning. Here in the land of the free some men gave free reign to their baser instincts. Hanging on the wall of my home office is a sign made by the Boston Sign Company in 1915. It reads, "No Irish Need Apply," a not uncommon warning that often met my ancestors when they looked for work. Not very nice, but far better than the lynchings and other atrocities that far too many Black Americans suffered. But despite the rantings of the far-left ideologues of Black Lives Matter, we've come a long way...and for the good.

Today many immigrants come to this country for the same reasons that motivated my grandparents. Many still work hard at multiple, demanding jobs to provide for their families and to offer hope to their children and grandchildren. I see them every day here in central Florida. They came here from Mexico, Jamaica, Haiti, Brazil, or any of a hundred nations. They mow our lawns, pick up our trash, clean our swimming pools, cook our meals, paint our houses, and repave our roads. Many probably accept that they will work in these jobs for the rest of their lives, but see the future through the lives of their children who they hope will go on to be engineers or doctors or teachers or entrepreneurs. Some, already educated in their native countries, came here to escape the institutional oppression of socialist bureaucracies. Since moving to Florida I have been treated by doctors and PAs from Croatia, Russia, Pakistan, and India. I am continually amazed by those I meet, people who have come here from all over the world. Just last week, as on-call chaplains at our local hospital, Diane and I spent several hours visiting patients. On that single morning we met and prayed with patients from Egypt, Hungary, the U.K., Ireland, Brazil, and Colombia -- all here in search of a better life.

Most of today's immigrants will eventually assimilate just as my grandparents did. It may take an extra generation or two because of the multicultural mindset that governs many of our governmental agencies and turns the path to assimilation into an obstacle course. 

This multicultural mindset demands an assumption which I refuse to accept: the idea of cultural equality, that one culture is as good as the next. I disagree because I believe that our Western Civilization, the civilization that grew out of ancient Greek and Roman societies, was leavened by Mosaic Law fulfilled in Christianity, and reached its fullness in Europe and North America, is the greatest civilization our world has experienced. Of course it has its flaws -- many, many flaws. Original sin guarantees that. But even burdened by all its imperfections, Western Civilization far outshines any other. Multiculturalism denies this and would assume that sharia law is just as good, just as ennobling, just as supportive of human life as the Bill of Rights or the Ten Commandments or the Beatitudes. This I cannot accept. And the very fact that millions throughout the world sacrifice so much to come here, shows that most of them cannot accept it either.

But the real problem with multiculturalism is that in practice it simply doesn't work. Need evidence? Just look at the history of what was once Yugoslavia, a phony nation created by the same European elites that gave us World War One and its disastrous consequences. A patchwork of diverse ethnic, religious, and cultural groups, Yugoslavia was formed into a kingdom that experienced only chaos between the wars. After World War Two this "nation" was held together by the oppressive, totalitarian rule of Communist strongman Josip Broz (aka, Marshall Tito). When the dictator died in 1980 the crises erupted once again, resulting in years of inter-ethnic conflict that tore the country apart

Iraq is another patchwork nation, maintained for years by the tyrannical regime of Saddam Hussein and his Baath party. No doubt it will suffer a fate not unlike Yugoslavia and be undone by ethnic and religious strife, no thanks to us. I give it ten years maximum. Or look at the Catalonians who today threaten to create a new nation separate from a Spain whose culture they prefer not to share. And what was Brexit if not one culture's rejection of an attempt to create a multicultural superstate? Ironically, the U.K. may well face a similar rejection within its own borders should the Scots decide to go their own way. Yes, indeed, if a nation seeks to destroy itself, multiculturalism provides the perfect recipe.

Unfortunately, some of today's immigrants do not share our cultural values. Too many come here not for the freedom, but for the entitlements. They carry with them a set of cultural values foreign to, and often destructive of, the foundational values of Western Civilization. But the multicultural elites who welcome them actively discourage assimilation. No need to learn the language. No need to respect our laws if they conflict with your cultural values. No need to assimilate; stay together in your ethnic enclave where you can continue to celebrate and strengthen the culture from which you came.

Perhaps surprisingly, many Americans seem to understand that once the culture dissolves, the society it supports will collapse. Will we succeed in turning things around? Probably not. The opposing forces are likely too entrenched (again, my pessimism).

Western Civilization has had a pretty good run, but one gets the sense that it has aged, that its end is not too far off. I suppose it could end peacefully in the kind of societal hospice the Europeans seem to hope for; but most civilizations die with a bang and not a whimper. 


I hope I am wrong and we can rise up and reclaim our patrimony. But this won't happen unless we reclaim our faith, the "cult" that gives life to a culture. This will require some divine assistance, but "for God all things are possible" [Mt 19:26]. One thing we know for sure: if we seek perfection we'll have to wait for the Heavenly City.


Monday, October 24, 2016

Homily: Monday 30th Week of Ordinary Time

Readings: Eph 4:32-5:8; Ps 1; Lk 13:10-17
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While I was teaching a group of teens in a pre-Confirmation class, a young man asked me an interesting question: “How come Jesus doesn’t just perform some miracle that everyone can see? That way everyone would believe.”

A reasonable question, but I responded by saying that many would still reject Our Lord. And then I had him turn to today’s passage in Luke’s Gospel.

The leader of the synagogue had just witnessed a remarkable miracle, and yet all he could do was castigate Jesus for healing on the Sabbath. So blinded by law and ritual he lost sight of God's mercy and goodness, and couldn’t recognize God working right before his eyes.

He didn’t deny the healing. Indeed, it was the supposed illegality, the timing, of the healing that bothered him. But Jesus healed on the Sabbath because God never rests from mercy and forgiveness and love. The official didn’t reject the miracle; he rejected Jesus – something we encounter again and again in the Gospels. And we still encounter it today.

But what a healing it was…a healing of hope.

The woman had said nothing; she had asked nothing of Jesus. It was simply her presence that moved Him.

Despite her affliction – bent over, unable to stand erect, probably in constant pain – still she makes her way to the synagogue on the Sabbath. This faithful Jewish woman comes to offer her prayer of thanksgiving and to hear God’s Word proclaimed. She doesn’t blame God for the suffering she’s endured for 18 years. She hasn’t turned from God; she’s turned to God.

Jesus sees her, and in seeing her, He knows her. He peers into the deep recesses of her heart. He knows her faithfulness and He knows her suffering, something that calls to mind those beautiful words from Psalm 139:


O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord you know it altogether. 
You beset me behind and before and lay your hand upon me. [Ps 139:1-5]
And because Jesus knew her better than she knew herself, “He called to her,” and uttered those healing words:
“Woman, you are set free…” [Lk 13:12]

Set free from the chains that bind those who suffer. Set free from the doubt and despair through which Satan challenges our faith. Yes, she was free.


But notice, Jesus didn’t exercise His healing power through Word alone. No, He touched her – “He laid His hands on her” [Lk 13:13]

Just think about that. God’s Word is certainly enough. It alone can heal. After all, that same divine Word brought the entire universe into being. Jesus reaches out to this woman and touches her with his hands, and immediately she stands straight. Jesus touches because He is one of us. He took on human form and human flesh, and he knows we need the touch of another. But His touch is holy. Yes, His flesh, His holy flesh, bears within it the presence and the power of God.

The woman senses this, doesn’t she? For how does she respond? She glorifies God. She knows it is God working through the hands, working through the holy flesh of Jesus. And it is this same healing flesh, this Body and Blood of Jesus, we receive in the Eucharistic feast.


Is it any wonder that she is healed? Like us, she has experienced a Holy Communion. The love of God, the healing grace of Jesus Christ, and the power of the Holy Spirit have entered her and set her free and returned her to the wholeness God intended for her.

How often do I struggle bound and bent double, my soul unable to stand upright?

And yet the weight of my sin inclines me toward the Merciful One, and in my repentance He heals me.

Lord Jesus, You alone are our Protector. You turn your eyes to us, and call us to You. You speak Your Word, and touch us with Your holy hands, with Your Body and Blood.

You set us free.

Sunday, March 6, 2016

Another Churchill Book?

I can't imagine any twentieth-century statesman who's been the subject of more books than Winston Churchill. Scrolling through the results of a quick Amazon search will keep you busy for hours. I've probably read at least a dozen of the popular and not-so-popular Churchill biographies and more than a few of the fifty-plus books he authored, so I really didn't think the world needed another book on the man. And then, quite accidentally, I stumbled on a review of a book written by Larry Arnn, the president of Hillsdale College. The rather long title of Arnn's book -- Churchill's Trial: Winston Churchill and the Salvation of Free Government -- sums up its contents well. Published late last year, the book focuses on Churchill's lifelong battles with the enemies of free, constitutional government. 

Churchill battled Hitler and his Nazis, the Soviet communism of Stalin and his brutal successors, and the West's foolish and ongoing dalliance with so-called democratic socialism. Churchill realized that democratic socialism would inevitably evolve into a form of authoritarianism that renounced both democracy or the rule of law. He witnessed the beginnings of this downward slide in his own nation just as we are witnesses to it in the United States today. Churchill didn't hesitate to share what he thought of socialism and socialists. In 1945, addressing the House of Commons, he said:
"The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings. The inherent virtue of socialism is the equal sharing of miseries."
And then, in a 1948 speech in Perth, Australia, he said:
"Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy."

Churchill failed in life as often as he succeeded, perhaps more often, but one gets the sense that he saw failure as just another path to eventual success. 

He saw himself as a man with a mission, a sacred mission not just to save his nation but to save Western civilization from the evils that surrounded it. This motivated him to persevere in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.This attitude shines through in his "finest hour" speech, delivered on June 18, 1940 in the House of Commons. He concluded his address with these words:
"Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilization. Upon it depends our own British life, and the long continuity of our institutions and our Empire. The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us. Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this Island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, 'This was their finest hour.'"
During World War Two he was able to infect the British people with this same determination. He moved them to dig deeply into their national soul and respond to evil with an almost superhuman degree of courage and grit. Imagine hearing these words in June 1940, when things looked darkest:
"We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender."
He certainly had a way with words, didn't he? But perhaps his most famous words were heard on May 13, 1940 when he gave his first speech as Prime Minister before the House of Commons:
"I would say to the House, as I said to those who have joined this Government: 'I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat.' We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and suffering. You ask, what is our policy? I will say: It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us: to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark and lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: victory, victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival."
Below I've included an audio recording of portions of this and another speech. I hope you enjoy them.



Read Larry Arnn's book and come to know why so many consider Winston Churchill the greatest statesman of modern times.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Church and State, Legality and Morality

A few days ago I heard a TV News pundit complain about Pope Francis' comment that freedom of speech was not without its limitations. This talking head, who calls himself a libertarian, was aghast that Pope Francis would say such a thing and even went on to suggest that the Pope was, in effect, blaming the victims, rather than the perpetrators, of the recent terrorist attacks in Paris.

Of course the Pope was saying no such thing. He was merely echoing Church teaching that we are not "free" to do what is evil. Indeed the Church teaches that choosing evil is an abuse of freedom and that true freedom must serve that which is just and good. By choosing evil, a person rejects freedom and accepts the slavery of sin [CCC 1733]. The Pope is merely saying that there are moral limits to all freedom, including freedom of speech. The staff of Charlie Hebdo abused their freedom of speech by printing slurs against all religions, not just Islam. This, however, in no way mitigates the guilt of those terrorists who chose a far greater evil when they committed mass murder. The Pope was not excusing the terrorists; he was merely answering a question about the limits to freedom of speech. I think sometimes, when he speaks off-the-cuff, a poor choice of words can lead to misunderstandings, but since I'm just a deacon and he's the Pope I'll forgo any criticism beyond this one comment.

Getting back to our libertarian TV pundit, it would seem he and the Islamist terrorist have at least one thing in common: unlike the Pope, they both think and act at the extremes. The Islamist terrorist despises any thought of freedom of speech, and through acts of terror strives to intimidate all others, forcing them to think and say only that which conforms to his jihadist strain of Islam. To him freedom of speech is anathema. The libertarian plants himself at the opposite extreme and believes freedom of speech includes the license to say (and in most instances do) anything whatsoever. Interestingly, both view the issue from a legalistic perspective: one from the standpoint of a strict interpretation of sharia law and the other from an unrestrained interpretation of the First Amendment to our Constitution. 

The Pope, however, views freedom from a moral, rather than a legal, perspective. And that which is legal is not necessarily moral...and vice versa. Abortion, infanticide -- And what is late-term abortion other than infanticide? -- physician assisted suicide, same-sex marriage, and a whole range of other immoral behaviors are quite legal in many states and nations. But the fact that they are legal under man's law does not make them moral under God's law. And for us Christians, morality trumps legality.

The state, therefore, will often legalize and even encourage immoral behavior and punish moral behavior. When we turn to the New Testament we find these issues well defined. First of all, we are instructed to obey lawful authority, perhaps most clearly by St. Paul in Romans, chapter 13:

"Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore he who resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of him who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God's servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain; he is the servant of God to execute his wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore one must be subject, not only to avoid God's wrath but also for the sake of conscience. For the same reason you also pay taxes, for the authorities are ministers of God, attending to this very thing. Pay all of them their dues, taxes to whom taxes are due, revenue to whom revenue is due, respect to whom respect is due, honor to whom honor is due" [Rom 13:1-6].

This is reaffirmed by St. Peter in his First Letter:

"Be subject for the Lord's sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to praise those who do right. For it is God's will that by doing right you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish men. Live as free men, yet without using your freedom as a pretext for evil; but live as servants of God. Honor all men. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor" [1 Pet 2:13-17].
Note, however, that Peter instructs us not to use our "freedom as a pretext for evil; but live as servants of God." And so our current Pope is in tune with our first Pope. Freedom has its limits. We must honor and obey lawful authority but only insofar as it does not command that which is evil.

It is Jesus Himself who articulates the principle most succinctly when he tells the Pharisees and Herodians to "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's" [Mk 12:17]. Here Jesus is declaring that there are boundaries that define our obedience to human authority. When man trespasses on that which is God's -- e.g., when he permits the taking of innocent life through abortion or infanticide -- he must no longer be obeyed. Once again St. Peter comes to our aid to ensure we understand the ramifications of resisting the state when it demands obedience to that which is immoral:

"Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal which comes upon you to prove you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice in so far as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are reproached for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer, or a thief, or a wrongdoer, or a mischief-maker; yet if one suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but under that name let him glorify God" [1 Pet 4:12-16].
Meriam Ibrahim receives Pope Francis' blessing after her release from a Somali prison

Given how Christians are being persecuted throughout the world today, we should pay particular attention to these words of our first Pope who gave His life for the Faith. Just as we should listen to Pope Francis who has repeatedly stated that the ongoing persecution of Christians will serve to unite us in ways that other ecumenical efforts have not:
“Today the blood of Jesus, poured out by many Christian martyrs in various parts of the world, calls us and compels us towards the goal of unity. For persecutors, we Christians are all one!”
Pray for persecuted Christians.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Connected Thoughts

We certainly live in interesting times. They're so interesting it's hard not to get lost in the details of current events, all the while neglecting what it means for our civilization. Troubled by this, I've given it some thought. Actually, what I've been left with are a collection of mildly connected thoughts...

Throughout most of my life, I've lived in a reasonably civil society, a society grounded in Judeo-Christian religious values and guided by its imperfect understanding of the Ten Commandments and the Sermon on the Mount. The vast majority of Americans understood and accepted this. One could even state this belief publicly without much fear of contradiction or ridicule. This is no longer true. Indeed, our civil society has given way to a most uncivil society guided only by an unholy alliance of pragmatism and narcissism. The rule of relativism has created a society in which anything, or almost anything, goes. In the prophetic words of the great G. K. Chesterton, "When men choose not to believe in God, they do not therefore believe in nothing, they become capable of believing in anything."

The fragility of our civilization has become apparent. The world's barbarians are at the gate and we, unlike those who came before us, seem oblivious to the fact. While we sacrifice the lives of many of the best among us in a "war on terror" -- or as the current administration prefers to call it: a war on "man-caused disasters" -- we ignore the cultural disintegration taking place all around us. We experience a national trauma when 20 young children are savagely murdered in their classroom, but we celebrate as freedom the far greater but equally savage slaughter of 50 million innocent children in the womb...and we apparently do not see the connection between the two. Today I read of three young men, all in their teens, who shot and killed a young jogger. After their arrest one of them told the police that they were bored and decided to kill someone. Yes, once they believe in nothing, they will believe in anything.

As a nation our response to all the chaos is to attack the symptoms. We "stop and frisk." We build up our swat teams and turn our police forces into small (and some not so small) armies. We take real-time video of everything and everybody. We send drones into our skies to watch ourselves living our lives below. We allow strangers at airports to treat us with disdain, to violate our persons, and to do virtually anything they want...all because of our cowardice.

We worry so much about our security and safety that we willingly allow a government on steroids to trample on our freedoms. As one of our parishioners said to me the other day, "I don't really care what the government does so long as it keeps the terrorists away." I hope he does not awaken one morning and discover there is little difference between the two.

Ben Stein, a man I have long admired even though I do not always agree with him, addressed the NSA's invasions of privacy in his latest online diary entry by writing:
My wife said it well tonight. “I have nothing to hide,” she said. “I’m not afraid of the NSA.”
I actually am nowhere near the person Big Wifey is, but I am not afraid of the NSA either. I am very afraid of the terrorists. It’s that simple.
Yes, Mr. Stein, it is that simple: we have become a nation of cowards. At least you are honest about your cowardice. Most are not. As a nation we have shown ourselves to be far more concerned with our personal safety than with the loss of our liberty. I wore the uniform of this nation for almost 30 years and willingly placed myself in harm's way. My brother, father and grandfather did the same. And I believe I can honestly say that each of us would have given his life for this nation, for the Constitution we were sworn to defend, and for the freedoms it guarantees for all of us. Now I'm the only one left, but believe me, I have never considered my life as important as those freedoms.


This is why I am so disturbed to hear Americans, when asked about the NSA's intrusive spying, say, "If you've got nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry about." Hanging on the wall in front of me is a framed but dirty and slightly tattered armband. It contains a roughly sewn Star of David with "Sachsenhausen" stenciled beneath it. A Jewish friend gave it to me because it caused him too much pain. It had belonged to his great uncle who had survived several camps and managed to stay alive until he was liberated. I keep it on my wall to remind me of what humanity is capable of, to remind me of the existence of original sin. The people forced to wear such armbands in such horrible places as Sachsenhausen also believed they had nothing to hide, nothing to worry about.They were wrong.

The solution to the problem we face is not to be found in the symptoms. It's buried deep within the cause. We are a nation that has rejected its Judeo-Christian roots. We have ceased to live our faith, to preach it openly, to pray in the public square. Too many today have turned their backs on God not realizing that the only road to salvation for this nation is to turn back to God.