Homily: Mass and Healing Service - Thursday, 27th Week in Ordinary Time

Note: On Thursday evening, Father Glen celebrated a special Mass, which was followed by a Healing Service for all who sought healing of any kind, whether physical, mental, spiritual, or the healing of broken or damaged relationships. Many came and were prayed over by our prayer teams who laid hands on each person and asked the Holy Spirit to provide the healing they sought.

I was humbled to have been asked to preach to this gathering of the faithful who came to hear God's Word and then joined together in Eucharistic Communion with our Lord Jesus Christ and with each other.

My homily follows...

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Readings: Mal 3:13-20b • Psalm 1 • Gospel: Lk 11:5-13

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Good evening, everyone. Praise God. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Because we’re here in Jesus’ name, the Holy Spirit is with us in all His power, in all His glory, so that in Him we can come to know our loving Father better, all through Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Let me begin by saying I’m in deep water today, way out of my depth…but that’s the way it usually is whenever we set out to do God’s work. So often we’re sure we know what God is calling us to do, but then suddenly He teaches us otherwise. After all, it’s not our work; it’s God’s work. And you and I can never approach God’s work from a position of strength. It’s always from weakness.

I worried a bit about what I’d say tonight, but then finally, did what I should have done from the beginning, I prayed…and I asked the Spirit to guide me, to tell me what to say.

As God revealed through the prophet Malachi, we will see “the distinction between the one who serves God, and the one who does not.” He calls us only to serve Him.

Healing is such a personal thing. No two of us come to healing from the same place; each journey is different, and so is the baggage we carry with us. Because we’re all so amazingly and wonderfully different, what can I say that will apply to us all? But then the Spirit turned my aging brain to the parable staring me right in the face.

“Ask and you shall receive; seek and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened to you...”

Comforting words, aren’t they? But I think too many of us take those words and extract only what we want to hear. We focus so much on the things of our lives, the uniquely human activities and distractions that occupy so much of our time. Distracted by these “things,” we often misinterpret what Jesus is telling us about prayer – for that’s what this parable’s all about. We focus on our problems, our hurts and illnesses, our burdens, our confused lives…and then, like the unrelenting friend in the parable, if we just pray really hard, and persist, then God will finally say, “Okay, okay,” and give us whatever we ask.

To believe this is to see this parable from a very literal, very human perspective, one that sees God as this sleepy neighbor who only responds if we nag Him relentlessly. We forget, it’s a parable, and God is no sleepy neighbor who needs persuading.

Jesus continues with another brief parable, this time referring to that special human relationship between parent and child.

“What father among you will give his son a snake if he asks for a fish, or hand him a scorpion if he asks for an egg?”

And we all say, “I’d never do that!” — because we love our children. And because God loves us even more, obviously He’ll give us whatever we ask. The trouble is, too often, instead of asking for a fish or an egg, we ask for the snake or the scorpion. Then, dissatisfied with God’s response, we do act like children. We get angry with God. We throw little tantrums and turn away from Him. After all, we asked, but didn’t receive.

Do we think we can manipulate God, that if we ask Him repeatedly, we somehow obligate Him? Or maybe we think, “If God is a loving and caring Father who gives only ‘good’ things, why must we persist in asking? Why do we have to ask at all?”

Let’s not forget that Jesus tells us to pray to the Father, “Thy will be done.” Persistence in prayer – as Paul reminds us, “pray without ceasing” – is for our benefit, not God’s, so we must pray boldly for conformity with God’s will. If the will of the child doesn’t conform to the will of the Father, the child, disregarding all personal desire, must repeat with Jesus in the Garden, “...not my will, but yours.” You see, Jesus wants us to pray for everything good. This is what the Father wants for us.

Then, at the end of the parable, we encounter a gift:

“If you, with all your sins, know how to give your children good things, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?”

What Jesus promises is far better than anything we had in mind. He promises the Holy Spirit, the fullness of the love shared by Father, Son and Holy Spirit. What could be better than that?

And yet, how often in prayer do we ask for the Holy Spirit? Only God’s grace, given freely by the Holy Spirit through the saving power of the Son, can save us from our sinfulness and raise us to new life in Him. In the Creed we call the Holy Spirit, “the Lord and Giver of Life.” This is the healing we all need. Anything else is just God’s little surprise for us. Immersed in that holy flow of grace, what we receive is totally aligned with All Goodness, All Love, all perfect answers to our fervent prayer.

And if you receive exactly what you asked for, rejoice! Jump for joy because you are one with the will of our loving God…your prayer was answered! Sometimes the answer Is “No”, or “Maybe later”, or “I have a better solution.” We can be ok with those answers when we realize they’re given in love. Always in love, sisters and brothers, no matter how difficult and contrary they seem at the moment.

Reviewing my own life, all its stupid mistakes, its sinfulness, self-built obstacles, and crazy moments, I see the work, the signature, of my loving God. I can say only, “Thank You, Lord, for being there always, even when I didn’t realize it.”

In prayer, then, as in all things, Jesus is our model. Recall the raising of the dead Lazarus, and how Jesus prayed:

“Father, I thank you for having heard me. I know that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd, that they may believe that you sent me.”

You and I are in that crowd; it’s all meant for us. The all-powerful intercession we rely on when we pray in Jesus’ name, and conform our own prayer to His. You see, what Jesus is really telling us is that our prayer must be an act of simple trust, the kind of trust you see in the face of a child who knows his parent will never harm him. And like that child, we often don’t know what’s good or bad for us. But God, the good parent, tells us, “Trust me. You’ll thank me for it later.”

You and I can teach God nothing, but we can ask everything of Him, entrusting to Him the judgment of our real needs. It’s our duty to ask, to pray. We’re His children, and should want to receive everything from His hand. But we should ask, seek and knock so that we may discover God’s will for us, and then ask for the courage and strength to do it.

Certainly, we can always ask God for specific things, but more important is to enter into His presence in silence and solitude of heart. For the Holy Spirit dwells in the depths of your soul, at the very center of your being. We can best reach Him only when we grow silent. Interior silence and the ability to love God in a kind of nakedness of spirit are gifts of the Holy Spirit, sent by the Father, and promised to us by the revelation of His Son that “Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.”

Because of this we’re certain of the Father’s love.

Because of this we can leave behind all anxiety and fear, all uncertainty, all distrust.

Because of this we need not worry about our future; or to calculate the state of our relationship with God.

Because of this we can come to want what God wants, to acknowledge that good, and nothing but good, comes only from God, only from Our Father.

Yes, Our Father: not just mine, not just yours, ours. By the very fact that we are put into relationship with God, as sons and daughters of the Father, we find ourselves in relationship with one another. So together, in Eucharistic communion with Jesus Christ and each other, let’s enter into prayerful conversation with our God, to get a real relationship going in our asking, seeking, and knocking, and prepare to be surprised. To be loved. To be healed.

Pray for the healing of those seated around you, and then let God do His healing work.

Praised be Jesus Christ…now and forever.

 

God Turns All to Good

45 years ago, I was a Naval officer aboard a ship in the Philippines when I got the word that my mom was near death. The cancer she had battled for so long would finally take her. My commanding officer granted me emergency leave and I somehow managed to make it back to the states in near record time. The trip from halfway around the world involved a series of flights aboard several military and civilian aircraft. Arriving at Boston's Logan Airport, I was met by my dad and brother who drove me straight to the hospital in Hyannis on Cape Cod. 

My first look at Mom as I entered her room told me she wouldn't be with us much longer. Her words merely confirmed this. She looked up at me and said, "Okay, Lord, now I can die."

We spent some time together in prayer but at one point she said, "Dana, I've learned that everything is a gift. Even this horrid disease is a gift because it has taught me so much." 

Of course, as a 30-something Navy pilot, I didn't have a clue. How could she say that? A gift? No, this was a tragedy! Still in her sixties, she had suffered too much for far too long. I simply didn't understand what she meant and didn't try to grasp her meaning.

It took some time, actually a couple of decades, for her words to make sense to me. Sometimes that's how God works in our lives. He waits until we are properly disposed to understand His Word and then He reveals it to us in ways we can accept. In my case it came thanks to many others who, like Mom, were seriously ill and facing death. Their attitudes and words mirrored Mom's, forcing me to seek understanding. 

And then, one day, I read a letter by one of my favorite writers, Flannery O'Connor. Throughout her adult life, O'Connor had suffered from Lupis, a disease that would ultimately take her at the age of 39. Referring to her illness, O'Connor wrote these words to a friend:

"I have never been anywhere but sick. In a sense sickness is a place, a very instructive place, and it's always a place where there's no company, where nobody can follow. Sickness before death is a very appropriate thing and I think those who don't have it miss one of God's mercies." [The Habit of Being, p. 163]

"...one of God's mercies." One senses that O'Connor, too, realized all is a gift for those who strive to accept God's will for them. 

This morning I was reminded of this again. Listening to the news, we were told that Rush Limbaugh died a year ago today. As the news show briefly covered this anniversary of his death, they showed a video of Limbaugh, apparently just days before he died. Speaking to his nationwide audience, it seemed as if he were consoling them as he said:

"There's good in everything that happens, if you look for it."

Yes, indeed, we encounter many examples of people who came to realize and accept the goodness in so much the world considers bad. Of course, St. Paul said it best, didn't he?

"We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose" [Romans 8:28].

God's peace...

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #20: Evangelization

Today I intend to reflect briefly on "the spirituality of evangelization." Actually, I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sounded good when it popped into my aging brain the other day...so we'll see how it goes.

We always ask for God’s presence – Father, Son and Holy Spirit – and we do so now, coming together in the certain hope God will inspire and guide us today. I'll begin with a prayer, one written by one of our 20th-century saints, Blessed Charles Foucauld. I'll talk about him in a moment, but first his prayer...

Abba, Father, I abandon myself into Your hands. Do with me what You will. Whatever You may do, I thank You. I am ready for all, I accept all.

Let only Your will be done in me and in all Your creatures. I wish no more than this, O Lord.

Into Your hands I commend my soul. I offer it to You with all the love of my heart.

For, I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself, to surrender myself into Your hands without reserve and with boundless confidence.

For You, Abba, are my Father. Amen.

Blessed Charles was a remarkable man. After a stint in the French Army, a dramatic conversion, and his ordination to the priesthood, he spent the remainder of his life as a Trappist monk in the Holy Land and finally as a hermit in the deserts of North Africa. It was there, on December 1, 1916, that he was martyred, killed by the Taureg people whom he loved. He was beatified by Pope Benedict XVI in 2005. To our knowledge Charles never converted a single person during his lifetime, but in his death, God brought into being several religious orders devoted to his spirituality.

As you can see by his prayer, it's a spirituality of abandonment, the sort of spirituality not practiced much in today's world. We’ll come back to this later. First, let’s talk about evangelization. (I realize I addressed abandonment in an earlier reflection – Reflection #6: Abandonment – but not in relation to evangelization.)

The Gospels offer us two parallel paths: Jesus’ redemptive journey to the Cross and His glorious Resurrection; and the disciples’ journey to...well, to true discipleship. The call they received was unambiguous. It was a call to evangelization. Matthew and Mark both end their gospel accounts with the Risen Jesus' appearance to the apostles immediately before his Ascension [Mt 28:16-20; Mk 16:14-18]. Jesus' last words to the Apostles – His Great Commission – are a call to witness to His saving death and glorious resurrection and to proclaim the good news of salvation to all the world. God's love and gift of salvation are not just for a select few, or for a single nation, but for everyone -- for all who accept the Good News.

Here we introduce our first truth on evangelization: We are all called to do God’s work to evangelize the world.

Evangelization is the work of God given to the entire Church, not just of the apostles and their successors. Jesus calls all believers to this saving work -- to be heralds of the good news and ambassadors for Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world. We have not been left alone in this task, for the risen Lord works in and through us by the power of his Holy Spirit. Where Jesus is, so too is the Spirit.

Evangelization, then, isn’t something we decide to do. Like all calls to ministry, the call to evangelize comes from God. We simply respond. Because it originates with God, it is God’s work, not ours, and all the glory must be His. How did the psalmist put it?

“Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory because of your mercy and faithfulness” [Ps 115:1].

It’s not our good news, but the Good News of Jesus Christ, for the Gospel reveals the “mercy and faithfulness” of God. And it reveals the power of God, the power to forgive sins, to heal, to deliver from evil and oppression, and to restore life. As evangelists, as witnesses, you and I must believe in the power of the gospel. It always boils down to faith, doesn’t it?

Understanding this we are better able to define our spirituality of evangelization, which is really a spirituality of thankfulness. Our prayer becomes one of gratitude, thanking God for calling us to this ministry of salvation. And because all true ministry is God's work, by its very nature it is beyond our capabilities. We can't do it alone.

This leads us to our second truth: We need God's help to accomplish His work, His ministry of evangelization.

What have we discovered so far? As ministers we’re called to do God's work, not ours, and we can't do it alone. This is harder to accept than you might think. So often we get very possessive of “our ministry” in the Church, forgetting that, like everything else in our lives, it all belongs to God. Do you ever get that way? Do you ever find yourself grasping a ministry as if it’s some cherished possession, forgetting that it belongs to God not to you? As St. Paul reminds us, all comes from God:

"What have you that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?" [1 Cor 4;7]

God’s work must be done, but if we’re unresponsive or indifferent to God’s call, believe me, He will call someone else, and quite likely call them from their weakness. We are loved, brothers and sisters, but when it comes to God’s work in the world, we are not indispensable. It’s as if He’s reminding us, “You see. I found someone else. I found someone who didn’t resist my call, someone who’s willing to let me form them, to fill their emptiness with my love, someone with faith.”

...to fill their emptiness...There’s a wonderful Greek word, kenosis. We encounter it as a verb, ekenosen, in the midst of St. Paul’s beautiful hymn on the wonder of the Incarnation:

 “...he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men” [Phil 2:7].

In this emptying, Jesus Christ, the Son of God impoverished Himself by taking on our humanity. In the same way, as His disciples, we’re called to kenosis, to an emptying of self so that He may form us and fill us with His love.

You see, brothers and sisters, in His emptying Jesus takes all that is within Him and offers it to us. This is His gift to us. We need only accept it. But you and I cannot fully accept God’s love in our lives if our minds and hearts are filled with ourselves. We, too, must experience kenosis; we must first empty ourselves.

I abandon myself into Your hands. Do with me what You will.

Blessed Charles’ prayer of abandonment, this prayer of openness to God’s will – is this our prayer as evangelists? Or do we insist instead on telling God what He wants us to do.

And so we have our third truth: To accept fully God’s call to ministry, we must first empty ourselves of ourselves.

Kenosis, therefore, is fundamental to the work of evangelization and becomes an essential companion to God’s call. How does God call us, and speak to us? How can we hear His call? God speaks in silence, just as He did with Elijah on the mountainside [1 Kings 19:11-13]. There in the midst of all the noise and tumult and disruption of the world -- amidst wind, and quake, and fire -- God came to His prophet and spoke in a "still, small voice." God still speaks to us that way today. He comes to us in the silence.

Indeed, how blessed we are, for God has left us the gift of Himself in the Eucharist, the gift of His very Presence, so we can exclaim "Emmanuel" -- "God with us." The Eucharist means God in us, God with us, God increasingly giving himself to us.

We can escape all the noise and disruption of the world and kneel in His presence. In the silence of adoration, we can respond to God’s call as He waits for us in patient, expectant stillness. We too must be patient, waiting for God, just like the servant who waits patiently, watching for the signal from his master:

“Yes, like the eyes of servants on the hand of their masters, like the eyes of a maid on the hand of her mistress, so our eyes are on the Lord our God, till we are shown favor” [Ps 123:2].

We need, then, only respond in that silence, to that silence: 

"Behold, I come to do your will, O God" [Heb. 10:7].

And of one thing we can be certain: God's will for us always includes His will for others, His will for the others in our lives, especially for those least brothers and sisters of the Lord. Listen again to Blessed Charles. Toward the end of his life, speaking of Jesus’ description of the last judgment in Matthew 25, he wrote:

"I think there is no passage of the Gospel that has made a deeper impression on me or changed my life more than this one: 'Whatever you do to one of these little ones, you do to me.' Just think, these are the words of Uncreated Truth, words from the mouth that said, 'This is my body... this is my blood...' How forcefully we are impelled to seek Jesus and love him in the 'little ones'."

That’s right, brothers and sisters, it is these least ones we are called to evangelize, for together with them we are the Body of Christ. Who are these “little ones”? Why, they’re all around us. I know you pray for them because you sometimes tell me about them...

Lord, that widow down the street who is so lonely. Send someone to give her company and fellowship, someone who will take the time to visit her.

Dear Jesus, that troubled young boy, our dog groomer’s son. I know he has no father. Please ask someone to come into his life and help fill that need.

And, Lord, that neighbor who fell and can no longer do the little household jobs he loved to do...Find someone who can help him until he’s back on his feet again.

Oh, yes, and that young single mother who’s having such a hard time financially. Father, please provide for her need.

There are so many more opportunities that God places before us each and every day. I think you get my point. Will you visit the lonely neighbor, or spend some time with the boy who has no father figure in his life, or do an odd job or two for the neighbor who needs some help, or help the single mother financially?

For most of us evangelization is not preaching on the street corner. No, it’s more up-close and personal. It’s carrying the love of Jesus Christ to the individuals that God sends our way because of their need, their need for salvation. God will provide the opportunity to invite them to know Jesus Christ and His Church.

Indeed, that you recognize another’s need likely means you are the one God is asking to meet that need. God speaks to us through others in quiet, but insistent ways. He speaks and we respond in faith and thanksgiving: Father, let me always be thankful for everything and everybody you send into my life.

None of this is easy because God so often calls us from our weakness. Oh, yes, and true evangelization is rarely tax deductible. That’s because it’s always a spiritual challenge, one that calls us to give far more than we want to give in both time and effort and fortune.

This evangelization, this call to all disciples of Jesus Christ, is not voluntary. It’s a command, and to obey it leads to what can be a drastic change in your very way of life. With that in mind, I'll conclude by once again turning to the words of Blessed Charles:

"Our entire existence, our whole being must shout the Gospel from the rooftops. Our entire person must breathe Jesus, all our actions. Our whole life must cry out that we belong to Jesus, must reflect a Gospel way of living. Our whole being must be a living proclamation, a reflection of Jesus Christ."

We’ve just scratched the surface of the spirituality of evangelization, but I hope some little piece of this reflection might help you as you respond to God’s call.

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #6: Abandonment

Our elder son calls us almost daily. Of course, he loves us, and we enjoy talking with him. But I suspect he’s also checking up on the “old folks,” just to make sure we’re still capable of answering the phone. Anyway, the other day, when I answered his call, he asked, “How are you handling all this weirdness?”

And he’s right, isn’t he? It has been weird. For a couple of months now, except for walking the dog and making occasional but brief trips to the store and post office, we’ve been cooped up in our home, isolated from others, forced to redefine much of our lives. 

The weirdest part has been the absence of human contact, especially with our friends. And yet some good has come of this. Diane and I have certainly spent more time together and are even learning to compromise on our TV watching. We’ve watched a lot of Jane Austen DVDs together and are now working our way through some strange Amazon Prime series. I’ve also worked on honing my cooking and laundry skills.

Among the more pleasant changes, is my growing relationship with our trash collectors. I now recognize them, and they me. They collect our trash twice weekly, usually in the pre-dawn hours, about the same time I take Maddie for her morning walk. Hungry for human contact, I now stop and greet these young men as they jump on and off their truck picking up our garbage. They have a hard, backbreaking, and smelly job, but they always greet me with a smile and a cheery “Good morning!” In the midst of the “weirdness” I have developed a new respect for these men and their work.

Yes, indeed, things have gotten weird. But weirdness always generates questions, and questions often lead me to Sacred Scripture. After all, God not only has all the answers, He is the answer. And one of the best places to find that answer is the Sermon on the Mount; for it’s there that Jesus both challenges and comforts us. This morning offers a good example. While Diane underwent her physical therapy, I sat in the waiting room of the rehab center, wearing my facemask, and reading from the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 6 about the futility of worry. It’s not a long passage, so let’s read it now:

Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat (or drink), or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your lifespan? Why are you anxious about clothes? Learn from the way the wildflowers grow. They do not work or spin. But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them. If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith? So do not worry and say, 'What are we to eat?' or 'What are we to drink?' or 'What are we to wear?' All these things the pagans seek. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides. Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil [Mt 6:25-34].

Of course what Jesus is telling the crowd, and what He is telling us, is that worry over food, clothing, health, or any material need is simply a substitute, and a very poor one at that, for concern about our eternal salvation. He tells us to turn our attention from our worldly needs to eternal needs: “But seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness…”

So often, instead of being disciples, we are worriers. We spend much of our time planning our futures, calculating profit and loss, assets and debits, being the responsible people the world expects of us to be. This, Jesus tells us, is a waste of the energy and talents God has given us. We are called to do otherwise. We are called to put aside all anxiety and replace it with self-abandonment, to choose a life in which God provides and we receive. This eternal call of Jesus is echoed throughout all of Sacred Scripture. Here is just one example:

“Unless the Lord build the house, they labor in vain who build. Unless the Lord guard the city, in vain does the guard keep watch. It is vain for you to rise early and put off your rest at night, to eat bread earned by hard toil — all this God gives to his beloved in sleep” [Ps 127:1-2].

Our passage from the Sermon on the Mount is, of course, about more than freedom from worry. It’s really about how we should live our lives in times of both trouble and joy. And far too many of us live lives that don’t at all conform to Jesus’ expectations.

For example, some months ago I had a brief encounter with a parishioner who approached me right after Mass. She began by asking a straightforward question about the day’s Gospel reading. It related to prayer. I was in a bit of a hurry, so I gave her a pretty sketchy, off-the-cuff answer, one that seemed to satisfy her. But then she said, “I’d really like to deepen my spiritual life, but I just don’t seem to have the time.”

My first thought was one of self-criticism. (I’m pretty sure the Holy Spirit had a lot to do with this.) Here this woman had come to me, hoping for some spiritual direction, and yet I was so wrapped up in my own concerns, I really didn’t want to spend even a few minutes with her.

Her desire for a deeper spirituality is not uncommon. Many of us seek a more intimate relationship with God but become frustrated by the busyness of our lives. Work, family life, and other obligations and demands move God to a back burner. 

Although the woman who approached me is retired, I know she’s active in the community, involved in both recreational activities and charitable work. I won’t criticize her, though, especially in light of my own faults, because she obviously recognized this need in her life, or she wouldn’t have asked the question. I could tell it worried her. 

I suppose it all boils down to how we set our life’s priorities. Of course, she was really asking about prayer, wasn’t she? For it’s through our prayer lives that we deepen our relationship with God. And so, maybe this complaint of not having the time for prayer is worth looking into.

Perhaps we should turn first to the experts, the saints. Interestingly, when we examine the lives of the saints, we discover a kind of happy paradox. You see, the more they prayed, the more time they seemed to have for their apostolic work. Indeed, the busiest of saints – people like St. Dominic, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Benedict, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Francis of Assisi – all seemed to accomplish enough to fill several long lifetimes. And yet each devoted a considerable amount of time to prayer. 

Let’s return to our Gospel passage where the Lord promised to add “all these things” to those who seek first the kingdom of God. It would seem “all these things” must also include time. In other words, if we give time to God, He will give it back to us with interest.

This probably sounds a bit mysterious, and, like most of God’s doings, I suppose it is. But the importance of time in our spiritual lives becomes clearer if we just look at it from a human perspective, the only perspective you and I can probably understand.

You see, the saints considered time a gift from God, a gift through which they could work out their salvation. But to use this gift well demands some degree of conscious planning, but with special regard to the life of the soul. As any good time-management consultant would tell you, making better use of your time is often just a matter of changing habits. When it comes to your prayer life, you need only develop the habit of prayer. By this I mean turning the most commonplace activities into opportunities for prayer. Let me offer a few examples:

Try saying the Rosary while taking a walk or while waiting in the doctor’s or dentist’s office. After all, what’s more profitable for your soul, reading some two-year-old magazine or meditating on the mysteries of the Rosary?

What’s the first thing you do when you wake up each morning? Why not say, “hello”, to God? Pray some form of the morning offering in which you dedicate your entire day to doing His will in your life. It takes only a minute, and yet it sets the tone, a prayerful tone, for your entire day

Set aside a specific time each day to read from Sacred Scripture – just a few verses from both Old and New Testaments. The Psalms and Gospels might be a good place to start. Read and then meditate on what you have read. How does the Word of God apply to your life this day?

Before going to bed each evening, take a few moments to reflect on your day. Conduct a brief examination of conscience, reviewing your thoughts, words, and deeds, and asking God to help you in obedience to His commandment to love God and neighbor.

Such simple, prayerful acts provide wonderful ways to fix our minds on God as well as making intercession for those around us, especially those who don’t know God’s love. Just think of all the opportunities God gives us for prayer each day. It gives new meaning to what St. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians:

“Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. Do not quench the Spirit” [1 Thes 5:16-19].

Rejoice always, pray always, give thanks always, and don’t quench the Spirit. Is this the way you and I live our lives?

As Christians we are called not just to make time for prayer, for rejoicing, and for giving thanks. We’re called to do so always, in all circumstances – to do so deliberately and perseveringly, even in the face of great difficulties. This is what our faith really means. To live our faith, we must rejoice always. We must pray without ceasing. We must give thanks in all circumstances. 

Now I don’t know about you, but I find this very difficult, so difficult that I fail daily as I struggle to live my faith. Eventually we must come to terms with our own weakness and realize we can’t do any of this on our own. God wants to lead us on the path to this ideal, this perfection to which He calls us. The first step, then, is how we use His gift of time. 

Remember, to those who love God, everything is a gift, something for which we should give thanks. If we are to give thanks in all circumstances, we must even thank God for this pandemic that has so confused our lives and taken the lives of so many. None of us can speak for others, but we can speak for ourselves. Consider the good that has come to you during this challenging time, the good you have embraced, that which you have ignored, and that which you have yet to experience. Thank God for it all.

If we have been given one thing during the past few months, it is time – time to change those old habits, time to deepen our prayer life, time to allow God to strengthen our relationship with Him. How much of that gift have you wasted on the frivolous and how much have you devoted to worry? 

Dear friends, God’s generosity can never be exceeded. He rewards faithfulness not only with progress in prayer, but also by providing more time to devote to it. You need only ask.

You see, it’s always best to take the Lord at His word. After all, He said, “Ask and it shall be given to you,” so why not simply ask God to lead you in your prayer life, to provide the time you need?

Like all spiritual gifts time must come from God according to His will and not be snatched against His will; therefore, we should not neglect the responsibilities that come with our state in life for the sake of prayer. Prayer is the means by which we allow God to move in our lives. It is not an end in itself. 

What else did St. Paul say? Oh yes, “Do not quench the Spirit!” How often, so wrapped up in our own plans and ways, do we turn away from the Holy Spirit? The soul should trust the Holy Spirit to take care of its sanctification, for He will find wondrous ways to unite the soul more closely to Himself. 

Don’t question the Spirit’s movement, for it is almost always surprising, showing us the power of God by calling us through our weakness. The Spirit works in us and through us even amid life’s confusion and turmoil and an apparent lack of time. 

Remember, too, that God has placed you in this time and place for a reason, to fulfill His will in your life and the lives of those He loves. Trust that He will bring about whatever must happen in your life to lead you and those others to a closer union with Him. 

God calls each of us to be faithful. We need only turn our lives over to Him and allow Him to work within us. By deepening your prayer life, by bringing your life into communion with God’s Will, you can expect Him to work major changes in your life. 

God is a demanding lover, but He will never force Himself on us. Because He respects our freedom, the choice is always up to you and me. But like the perfect lover, He calls constantly, patiently awaiting our response. Only then, only when we have opened ourselves to His love, will He go to work in our lives. Realize, too, that as your relationship with Him deepens, His demands on you will increase. 

I hope this rather disorganized reflection may lead you to a deeper understanding of the need to use God’s gift of time as a means to deepen your relationship with Him. For the faithful, worry achieves nothing because we trust that God will provide all that we need.

Let me conclude with a prayer written by Blessed Charles de Foucauld who was beatified in 2005 by Pope Benedict XVI. Blessed Charles was a soldier, explorer, geographer, Trappist monk, linguist, hermit, and priest. He spent his last years living in North Africa, the only Christian living alone among the Tuaregs, a rather fierce tribe of Muslim desert nomads who ultimately took his life. To our knowledge he converted no one during his lifetime, and yet today his life has become a model for so many, a model of abandonment to God’s Will, regardless of the personal cost. Here is his prayer…

Father, I abandon myself into your hands;

do with me what you will.

Whatever you may do,

I thank you.

I am ready for all, I accept all.

Let only your will be done in me,

and in all your creatures.

I wish no more than this, O Lord.

Into your hands I commend my soul;

I offer it to you

with all the love of my heart,

for I love you, Lord,

and so need to give myself,

to surrender myself into your hands,

without reserve,

and with boundless confidence,

for you are my Father.

What more can we give our God than this?

Homily: Solemnity of Mary, Holy Mother of God (1 Jan 2020)

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

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Readings: Nm 6:22-27; Ps 67; Gal 4:4-7; Lk 2:16-21

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Theotokos Icon

1,600 years ago, at the Council of Ephesus, the Church gave Mary a title: Theotokos, a Greek word meaning “God-bearer.” In bestowing this title on Mary, the Church confirmed that, as the Mother of Jesus Christ, true God and true man, she is truly the Mother of God.

This is the feast we celebrate today: the Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God. Her title has its Scriptural roots in the story we all know – the story Luke tells in those early chapters of his Gospel.  We’re all familiar with it.

The Annunciation by the archangel Gabriel in Nazareth, and how the young Mary agreed to bear the Son of God, the Savior of the World. Yes, Luke describes Mary’s role vividly and leaves us with words we can never forget: 

“Let it be done to me according to your word” [Lk 1:38].

Mary's Magnificat

And then Mary, filled with the Spirit and carrying the Son of God in her womb, leaves immediately to make the long trek to Judea to visit Elizabeth. By visiting Elizabeth Mary really visits all of us. She carries Jesus to young and old, to the unborn John and to his aging parents. She carries the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. And she proclaims this wonderful news in her song of praise and thanksgiving, the Magnificat.

“He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation…He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty” [Lk 1:50,52-53].

Yes, Mary, the first Christian evangelist, spreads the Good News, telling the world of God’s mercy and justice. And thanks to Luke and the Holy Spirit we receive this Word of God. 

Because it’s the living Word of God, you and I are truly present there in the home of Zechariah and Elizabeth listening to Mary as she praises God and thanks Him not just for herself, but for all of us. We are there, just as we are present months later in the rolling hills outside of Bethlehem. When the angelic host appear to the shepherds, we are there among them to hear the Good News proclaimed from heaven itself. Indeed, this is exactly what the angel reveals. Listen to his words, the words you’ve heard so many times:

“Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you Good News of a great joy which will come to all people” [Lk 2:10].

This isn’t a message just for a few shepherds. No, it’s the Good News of Jesus Christ, a message for all people.

As Mary proclaimed, all of this happened according to God’s promise “to Abraham and to his descendants forever” [Lk 1:55]. We, brothers and sisters, are these descendants of Abraham, our father in faith; for God promised him that he would be the father of a multitude of nations. It’s a universal promise, a catholic promise. And because we are there with Mary, the shepherds and Abraham, this revelation places a demand on us. 

Just as the shepherds went on to glorify and praise God for all they had heard and seen, we too are called to do the same. And it’s really not something we should put off. For throughout these first two chapters of Luke’s Gospel, we detect a sense of urgency. When Gabriel reveals that Elizabeth will also bear a son, Luke tells us that Mary set off in haste. Our Blessed Mother didn’t delay in carrying out this dual mission of hers. For not only was she the God-bearer, the carrier of the Good News deep within her, but she also carried God’s love to someone in need. 

Both acts were of such importance that neither could be delayed. Yes, Mary set off in haste; but she wasn’t the only one. How did Luke describe the shepherds’ response in the passage we just heard?

“The shepherds went in haste to Bethlehem and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger” [Lk 2:16].

Moved by what they had seen and what they had heard from the angels, they could do no less. How blessed they must have thought themselves, for they would be among the first to set eyes on the Messiah so long awaited by God’s people. Is it any wonder that they left...

"glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them” [Lk 2:20].

Shepherds Receive the Good News

We too have received the Good News, brothers and sisters. We are all called to carry it to others, not in word alone, but in deed as well. Yes, Mary is the God-bearer who brought Our Lord into the world and presented Him as the Father’s gift to all of humanity. The shepherds of Bethlehem received that gift with joy and willingly and openly carried it to others. 

What a remarkable gift it is! It’s a gift of love, arising from God’s hope that we will turn from our sinfulness and accept Him into our hearts.

It’s a gift of divine forgiveness, of His outrageous mercy, a gift that will trump the power of sin and overcome all hatred, violence, revenge, addiction…all the evils of the world.

It’s a gift of Jesus Christ Himself, a gift we receive in a most special way.

When we receive the Eucharist today, when we receive the Real Presence, the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, you and I also become God-bearers, carriers of this gift. But what will we do with it? Will it change us, as it changed Mary, as it changed the shepherds?

Just as Mary carried Jesus to the world, we are called to carry Him to all the others in our lives. As the shepherds proclaimed the Good News of salvation, we are called to proclaim this message of hope to a world too often sunk in despair.

As we celebrate the beginning of a new year, let’s learn from both Mary and the shepherds, and follow their example. Worshipping here together on this feast of Mary, the Mother of God, let’s join her in a prayer for peace: peace in the world; peace in our country; peace in our cities and communities.

Pray for peace in our homes; but most importantly, pray for peace in our hearts.

Pray that the darkness of sin will be overcome in this world and that the light of love — the way of Mary’s Son — will take hold in our hearts and the hearts of all.

And so, let us today bless our world and each other with the words of blessing God gave to Moses and Aaron:

“The Lord bless you and keep you! 

The Lord let his face shine upon
you, and be gracious to you! 

The Lord look upon you with kindness and give you peace!” [Nm 6:24-26]

Everything Is a Gift

"Everything is a gift." I've uttered those words many, many times -- in homilies and during conversations or meetings with parishioners and others, and yet, I still groan and moan when seemingly bad things happen to me. You'd think that by now I'd have learned that God always comes through when we turn it all over to Him. How did St. Paul put it? 

We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose [Rom 8:28].

Let me offer a wonderful and very recent example.

Last week Diane and I drove up to McDonough, Georgia to visit her cousin, Carolyn, who was very near death. As usual I decided to take the more scenic route and stay off the interstate.

As we neared the town of Fargo, Georgia we had a blowout in our right, rear tire. I'll admit that, overcome by the moment, I probably uttered a few bad words. But then I asked God to help us handle this unexpected crisis. And I know Diane offered a prayer because that's what she always does, and her prayers are much better than mine.

Interestingly, just the day before I had stopped by the local Firestone dealer, got an oil change, and asked them to check the tires. As I expected, they recommended getting new tires fairly soon. But it was a busy day, so I decided to wait until we returned from our 700-mile round trip to Georgia -- not a good decision.

Hearing that flat tire popping against the blacktop, I pulled over onto the grassy shoulder of the rural two-lane road. After checking the tire, I reached for my cellphone, thinking this might be a good job for AAA. But then I saw those hated words: "No service."

Resigned to my fate, I opened the back of our Kia Sorento, moved all the luggage into the back seat, and retrieved the jack and lug wrench. I then went through the laborious process of lowering the spare tire (one of those useless donuts) to the ground. Whoever last tightened those lug nuts on my right rear tire must have over-torqued them because I couldn't budge them. 

While all this was going on, perhaps one vehicle had passed by. Well, Diane decided to seek help and waved down the next vehicle, a large pickup towing a working trailer. I asked the driver if he had cell service, and of course he didn't. But he pulled over in front of our car, got out, and offered to help.

Between the two of us (he was a few years younger and obviously stronger) we got the lug nuts off and replaced the flat tire with the donut. I was concerned because the donut was obviously in need of air. That little tire requires 60 psi and I suspect it's pressure was no more than 30. Our Good Samaritan -- a man named Bill Stewart -- then led us seven miles down the road to a gas station in Fargo that fortunately had a working air pump.

After I'd ensured all the tires were properly inflated, Bill came out of the station's convenience store and handed me a package of Stewart Candy. "My brother and his wife run the family business," he said before waving good-bye and driving off. It was good candy, too -- those soft peppermint balls that Diane likes so much. Here's a link to their website: Stewart Candy. We'll be buying more from this company in Waycross, Georgia, since I've decided to check out their other products. It's the least I can do.

But the gift isn't over...not yet.

After we arrived in McDonough I knew I had to get four new tires, so I asked Carolyn's sons where I should buy them. Steve is a retired police captain and David is a successful commercial contractor, and they both recommended Carver Tire in McDonough. So I made an appointment for 10:30 Wednesday morning and dropped off the car. It would be ready by noon.

Carver Tire - McDonough, Georgia

Carolyn died that morning, July 31, just before noon. Diane and I joined several of her children and one of the wonderful home health aides who had cared for Carolyn, and we all gathered around her bedside during her last moments. I gave her a blessing and sang the "Song of Farewell" and moments later Carolyn closed her eyes. With that God blessed her with a peaceful death and took her into His loving, merciful embrace.

Diane's cousin, Carolyn Moore

As Carolyn lay dying, I received a call from the tire dealer telling me our car was ready. A while later, not long after Carolyn's death, her son, Steve, drove me there in his huge F-350 diesel pickup and dropped me off. The manager handed me the paperwork and my keys, thanked me for my business, and wished me a safe trip home. I held out my credit card and said, "Thanks, but don't you want to be paid?" He replied, "It's all taken care of...all paid for." When I asked who had paid for it, he just shrugged and said, "Don't know. You owe me nothing."

When I got back to Carolyn's house I discovered that her son, David, had paid for my four, new Cooper tires, all $650 worth. He just laughed and said it was their gift. Nothing I said could change his mind. I had to accept the gift.

So let's see...I had a flat tire in the middle of nowhere (apologies to the folks of Fargo, and trust they'll understand). Normally this would not be a good experience. But then God went to work.

We met a wonderful man who helped us, ensured we were good for the rest of our trip, and then gave us candy. 

David, one of Diane's cousins, gave me four new tires, which is even better than candy.

Steve, another cousin, and his wife Kathy, put us up in their lovely, lakefront home in Jackson, Georgia.

And, most wonderfully, Carolyn, one of the world's sweetest women, went home to the Father peacefully.

Oh, wait...there's more. The gifts keep coming.

After I returned to Carolyn's home with my new tires, the family asked if I would conduct the funeral. It was scheduled for a week later on Wednesday, August 7, in McDonough. Now realize that the entire family are good, faith-filled Southern Baptists and they've just asked this Catholic deacon to conduct their mom's funeral.

Several days later Diane and I drove up to Georgia once again, this time on I-75. As it turned out I ended up conducting the funeral jointly with one of their pastors, a delightful man, Pastor Tom Bergman. He gave the welcome, read a passage from Scripture, gave an opening prayer. Of course there were several hymns. I then preached the homily, based on John 14:1-6.

After lunch we drove 100 miles north to the cemetery in Bowman, Georgia where many in the family are buried. I led a brief committal service, Steve blessed us with a beautiful prayer, and we returend to McDonough.

Diane is the last of her generation on her father's side of the family, so it was a joy to get to know better those in succeeding generations. We're hoping that Steve and Kathy, as well as Carolyn's daighter, Kim, will come and visit us here in The Villages. They all seemed to like the idea.

It all began with a flat tire near Fargo, Georgia -- a minor catastrophe for these two senior citizens -- and brought us blessing after blessing, gift after gift.

And Carolyn? We will miss her terribly, but for 88 years she lived the life Jesus asked her to live by loving God and neighbor. May she rest in God's peace. 

Morning Thought

I'm an early riser. I enjoy the pre-dawn stillness here in our Florida retirement community. For me, noise has become a mind-numbing distraction and my aging brain seems to function best in the silence of these early hours. I need the quiet to think and to pray. There is, however, one exception. For some unknown reason, classical music, specifically the baroque, soothes my mind and animates my thoughts. Many of my best ideas germinate during a Bach fugue and mature thanks to a Vivaldi violin concerto. Of course, these days, unless I write them down, most of these great thoughts disappear within minutes. Too often I am left only with the not-so-great.

This morning, for example, I read about a professor, enjoying his tenure at some prestigious university, who attributed all the world's ills to a group he labeled, dead white males. Now, as a future representative of this subset of humanity, I took this attack personally. I see no need to present a counter argument since one can easily refute the professor's attack by a quick scan of the history and culture of Western civilization. But then I realized this academic was interested in neither history nor culture. No, indeed, he was trying to make me, along with all other white males, both dead and alive, regret our very identity. He wanted me to apologize, not for what I have said or done, but for who I am. And this I will not do.

Now don't get me wrong. I am not proud of my white maleness. How can I take pride in that over which I have no control? Anyway, pride is highly overrated and if you don't believe me, just read chapter three of the Book of Genesis. No, I consider my race and my sex to be gifts from God. And because they are gifts, I thank God for them. Every human being should do the same. If you are a black female or an Asian male, just thank God every day for these wonderful gifts that form a part, but only a part, of your uniqueness. 

Bigotry in the form of racism and sexism exist when God  is forgotten. When we attack others because of their God-given identity, we also attack God who created each one of us in His image and likeness. 

This is also why so-called transsexuality is morally wrong. To try to change one's sex is to reject one of God's most precious gifts. It becomes just another vain attempt to "be like God" [Gen 3:5] and we all know what happened the first time a man and a woman tried to do that. Also, our very DNA prohibits any real change in sex. People might call themselves whatever they want, but their sex remains locked in their DNA. It remains God's gift, even if we try to reject it.

God commands you and me to love Him with all our being and to love each other as we love ourselves. Do you love yourself as God made you? You should, because it is a beautiful gift, the gift of life itself. And if you don't, you will not only despise yourself, but also others. So many today do not love themselves. Because they reject the gift of their own being, they have no problem rejecting the gifts that mark the identity of others. 

Pray for all those torn by inner confusion, for those unaware of the wonder of God's gifts. Yes, indeed, "Being is good."

And now I think it's time for a Handel concerto grosso.

Homily: Monday, 34th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Rv 14:1-3, 4b-5; Ps 24; Lk 21:1-4

A few days ago a parishioner asked why the Catholic Church doesn't demand tithing, as many other churches do. My response wasn't particularly satisfying, but at some point I decided to refer to today's Gospel passage from Luke and let Jesus answer for me.

Yes, Luke shares with us a seemingly trivial event that took place at the Temple in Jerusalem. It's just a brief passage, isn't it? Just four short verses. But is it really trivial, or is it something far greater, something that might well bear on our own salvation?

Jesus had just spoken to His disciples about the scribes and their false pride, how they abused their authority and took advantage of the poor, especially poor widows. Our Lord then turned their attention to one of the many receptacles located throughout the Temple grounds into which people placed their donations. He and the disciples watched as several wealthy Jews placed large donations into the receptacle. 

The disciples were likely impressed by the generosity of the wealthy, but not Jesus. No, He focused instead on the act of an impoverished widow who willingly gave all that she had, two small copper lepta, the least valuable of coins.

Unnoticed by others, she was nobody; and in the eyes of the world her gift of everything was seen as nothing. Everyone else was eying the wealthy, no doubt commenting on their large donations. But Jesus sees the true value of everything. He knows how little their gifts meant to them, gifts they could easily spare. 

To tithe, to give some set percentage of your surplus, really means little when you have so much. Compare this to the gift of the widow, a gift of everything, every cent she had. Indeed, her seemingly small gift, her sacrifice, was an emptying of more than a purse; it was the emptying of the self.

How about our giving? Do we give from our surplus or form our need? Is it a mere plea for recognition? Or perhaps it's a self-congratulatory pat on the back: "Boy, did I write a big check today." Yes, indeed, Jesus knows our motives. 

And we shouldn't focus only on our giving of money. Can we sacrifice our time, our effort, our talents, and instead of using them only for ourselves can we turn them over to God? Is our giving an emptying of self? 

True emptying is the kenosis of Jesus who poured out His lifeblood from the Cross for our salvation [Phil 27-8]. But true emptying is too often ignored by the world [Jn 1:10]. It's ignored because the world doesn't want to think about it. It doesn't want to hear Jesus' call to carry our cross, to give all for Him. 

But to give all, to live the Gospel without compromise, is to love God by doing the work of God, the work of holiness. Such work, never done for personal glory, usually goes unnoticed by all except God. The widow, you see, gave all and did so out of love. Despite her poverty she gave not just a little, but all; while the wealthy gave not just a lot, but nothing.

And as a faithful Jew, worshipping God at His Temple, she knew what the psalmist had promised, how the Almighty "is the father of orphans, and the judge of widows. God in His holy place" [Ps 67:6].

She was so very much like Our Blessed Mother who willingly gives everything for our God, and does so again and again, everything and all things, in the silence, in the anonymous silence of her hidden life.

Speaking of the widow, St. Augustine put it well: "She gave whatever she had, for she had God in her heart. But she had plenty, for she had God in her heart."

Yes, like Mary, she had God in her heart. Is God in your heart? Is He in mine? Do we let Him dwell there or just stop by on occasion?

Our Blessed Mother is the model of those whom Jesus praises, those "who do the will of my Father in heaven" [Mt 7:21]. We too are called to do the will of the Father so we can be Temples of the Lord, carrying Jesus Christ, carrying His presence to others.

How did St. Paul put it? "Do you not know that you are the Temple of God?" [1 Cor 3:16]

Today, through the Eucharist, you and I will also become God-bearers, Temples of the Living God. And so as we process together to receive Our Lord this morning let's all ask Mary to intercede for us, to pray that we may always do the will of the Father, to give all, and so become true Temples of the living God.