Homily for Mass and Healing Service: Dedication of St. John Lateran Basilica

I have embedded a video of the homily I preached at our semiannual Mass and Healing Service, which fell this year on the feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran Basilica.

The full text of the homily follows the video:

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Readings: Ez 47:1-2,8-9,12; Ps 46; 1 Cor 3:9-11,16-17; Jn 2:13-22
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“Zeal for your house has consumed me” [Ps 69:10].

John tells us the disciples recalled these words from Scripture as Jesus cleansed the Temple area. But that verse from Psalm 69 concludes with a few more words:

“I am scorned by those who scorn you.”

And, oh yes, how Jesus was scorned: scorned by those who should have known better: scorned by those who heard His Word, witnessed His works, and yet rejected His gift of Faith. That rejection continues, both within and outside the Church, the Church He founded 2,000 years ago.

Today, on this great feast, we remember that even though no building could ever be large enough to contain our God in His divine greatness, still He makes Himself present to us in the most human way, under the appearances of bread and wine. In its earliest days the Church celebrated Christ’s Presence in the smallest of churches, the homes of the faithful, where communities gathered for prayer and the breaking of the Eucharistic Bread. As the Church grew, so too did the number and size of the places where it gathered to meet with God. 

Today we celebrate the dedication of the greatest basilica of them all, St. John Lateran, the cathedral of the Diocese of Rome where Pope Francis, the Bishop of Rome, formally presides. Because it dates back to the 4th century, the Lateran Basilica is really the mother of all churches. Known more by is partial dedication to St. John, its full proper name is the Patriarchal Basilica of the Most Holy Savior and Saint John the Baptist at the Lateran. 

Thanks to the gift of the Eucharist, God is equally present in every church, large and small. As St. Paul reminds us, this gathered community is God’s Holy Temple. It is here that we encounter the pouring out of God’s grace, flowing from the sacraments, and presenting us with God’s mercy, healing, and hope. And, oh, does our world need God’s mercy and hope. Perhaps Pope St. John Paul said it best:

“Apart from the mercy of God, there is no other source of hope for the healing of humanity.” 

How wonderful that our last three popes – St. John Paul, Benedict, and Francis – preached and wrote so much about healing…certainly about physical healing, but most frequently about the deeper, inner healing of the spirit. As each has reminded us, when we come to Christ as wounded people in need of healing, all is changed.

Not long ago, Pope Francis said that, when it comes to healing, “You have to start from the ground up.” In other words, we must first accept the need for healing in our own souls, our families, our workplaces, and, yes, in our Church. Then, when we turn to Jesus and follow Him, who knows what miracles might be wrought?

When recovering from substance abuse, most seem to have learned that recovery can’t happen until one accepts that one’s own efforts have been fruitless. But this doesn’t apply only to addictions; no, it applies to all that separates us from God. As the pope said recently:

“It’s useless to think of being able to correct oneself without the gift of the Holy Spirit. It’s futile to think of purifying our heart in a titanic effort of only our will. This is not possible.”

You and I must turn away from ourselves and seek a new way to bring about the healing we need, not the healing we think we want. Until we’re ready to engage God openly and honestly as the imperfect creatures we are, we’ll never know just how close God is to us.\

God isn’t out “there” somewhere. He’s not remote, separated from us at some immeasurable distance. His love for us is so great that He humbles Himself and comes to meet us where we are. Yes, He humbles Himself, just as Jesus humbled Himself, became one of us, came to us as we are in our sinfulness. Just as He allowed that…the Cross [Phil 2:6-11].

Brothers and sisters, we have an awesome God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – a God who presents us with a beautiful paradox: He is a God of unimaginable greatness and indescribable humility. What’s keeping us from opening our eyes to this truth, and our hearts to His merciful Presence? Are there areas of your life, of my life, where we’d rather not be healed? Are these the very things that separate us from God? 

And so, we pray: God of Healing, God of Hope, help us to open our hearts to you and face you unafraid.

Returning again to St. Paul: If we accept that we are God’s Temple and part of its construction, the Holy Spirit dwell within us. How many, here at Mass every weekend, remain on the outside spiritually, looking in, pausing hesitantly at the Church’s threshold? We’re all members of this Temple, body and soul. Don’t settle for just observing from the threshold. To achieve healing, enter with hopeful hearts and approach the God who waits to welcome us.

Are we close to God in prayer? Or do we stand at the doorway, unsure of God’s love and forgiveness?

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you” [Mt 7:7].

Jesus promised this.

We pray: God of Healing, God of Hope, guide our steps across the threshold, from fear to trust, from sorrow to joy.

Do we stand at the threshold satisfied with the externals, the wrapping of the gifts before us. Like Ezekiel, we see the healing waters at the entrance of the Temple. But are we afraid to step in, to go deeper into the amazing gift of God’s grace?

In the Gospel Jesus draws near and says, “Do you want to be healed?” And to those who reply, “Yes,” He gives grace and sends them on their way. Here we see the power and depth of Jesus’ healing. 

When Jesus healed, He always healed more than the body; He forgave sins, healing the soul. When He healed the blind, He restored more than the sense of sight. He also awakened the gift of faith. And God does the same for us. Jesus offers something far greater than physical healing, for He heals both body and soul, offering us a serenity of spirit and a desire to share this gift with others. Jesus prays, and Jesus heals. He prays and heals here in His Church, as we gather in His Name.

Consider a time when your own prayer was answered, but not as you expected. That’s the gift of God’s healing at work, always surprising, blessings in marvelous disguise. It’s this grace that gives us the power to take the next step – of appreciating and offering thanksgiving for all God gives us. To open God’s gifts means accepting the responsibility to use them well. Am you and I ready to open the gifts that God offers us? 

God of Healing, God of Hope, I am as blind as the blind beggar. Help me to see your presence, to want your gift of grace!

In our humanity we demand that God see things our way, that He fix everything just as we want. But God always leads us in a different direction. He begins by forgiving our sins and healing that which so often keep us from God, He removes our fear and shame through His mercy and forgiveness. 

If we approach Him with a genuine desire to be forgiven, if we accept God’s desire to embrace us, we then begin to heal from the inside out. Jesus begins our inner healing through the sacrament of reconciliation, and through that forgiveness, He creates us anew, so we can share the good news of healing with others. 

God of Healing, God of Hope, give me the courage to face my weaknesses, to accept my failings, and to welcome your healing. Fill me with the wonder of trusting you.

Brothers and sisters, by sacrificing His life for us all, Jesus opened the doors to the heavenly paradise. And through His Resurrection, He destroyed death forever and gave us hope! He wants us to seek His healing grace.

So, let the re-creation begin here today! 

Homily: Mass and Healing Service -- Saturday 1st Week of Lent

This morning our parish celebrated Mass followed by a healing service. I was privileged to preach the homily, which I have posted below.
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Readings: Dt 26:16-19; Ps 119; Mt 5:43-48  
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"So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect" [Mt 5:48]. 

So...how y'all doing on that? How's that perfection thing going? Let me guess. 

You not only love all your enemies but you've convinced them all to love you. Right? Well, maybe not.

Well, then, how about persecution? Oh, yeah, nobody's really persecuting you, at least not yet, but you can hardly wait, so you can pray for them. Right?

Sounds like you're probably doing about as well as I am, which isn't so great.

I'm afraid too often we're a little like the Israelites in our first reading when God asked them to "walk in His ways." And then what did they do? Why they walked in their own ways...kinda like us.

Yes, Jesus tells us to "be perfect just as your heavenly Father is perfect" and God told the Israelites to "Be holy, for I, the LORD your God, am holy" [Lv 19:2] Pretty much the same thing, aren't they?

And so how do we do it? How do we make ourselves perfect? How do we become holy?

The truth is - and this is one of those absolute truths - we can't, at least not on our own. We need God's help, and lots of it. Mainly because that pesky humanity of ours keeps getting in the way. Love my enemies? It's really a lot easier to hate them isn't it? And pray for persecutors? We won't even go there. 

Let me share a little experience with you.

As a Navy pilot during the war in Vietnam, I flew search and rescue helicopters. We were stationed aboard ships in the Tonkin Gulf and our job was to pick up pilots who had been shot down, or for some other reason found themselves without an airplane.

We were lightly armed with a .30 caliber machine gun mounted in the cabin door, and some small arms -- not a lot of protection. Anyway, we tried very hard not to be detected. We just wanted to pick up survivors, and get away as quickly as possible. On the few occasions an aircrew actually used these weapons, I don't think they ever hit anybody.  I suppose they made us feel safer though.

The enemy, of course, were the communists of North Vietnam and the Viet Cong. As my POW friends will attest, they were not nice people. As my many Marine friends discovered when they liberated the ancient city of Hue, the communists tortured and murdered upwards of 6,000 men, women, and children during their month-long occupation.

Yes, indeed, they were an easy enemy to hate. But hating them troubled me because I had read the Sermon on the Mount and knew what Jesus had commanded us to do. And so one day I paid a visit to the Catholic chaplain and asked him how we could reconcile the command to love our enemies with this conflict in which we were engaged. I'll always remember that conversation.

I won't go into our rather lengthy discussion on the just war doctrine. That's a subject for another time. But I will tell you what he had to say about enemies and hatred and love and forgiveness.

He began by saying that if our enemies are those we hate, we have ceased being Christians. As disciples of Jesus Christ we are to hate no one. But if our enemies are those who hate us, then we will always have enemies.

Jesus, after all, had many enemies, simply because He did the Father's will. He loved, especially those despised by the world. And He also spoke the truth even when it upset people.

Our enemies decide how they will treat us. We decide only to love them or to hate them. You see, love and hate are not emotions. They're decisions. Jesus calls us to love regardless of the evil others do. And He calls to exclude no one from our love.

These are hard words for us, aren't they? Hard indeed...until we come face to face with the Cross, and we hear His words:

"Father, forgive them, they know not what they do" [Lk 23:34].

It's there, on the Cross, where we encounter Divine Mercy: God's perfect love, a love that demands forgiveness.

And, notice, Jesus doesn't say, "Father, forgive them, because they're a bunch of miserable sinners." No, He instead mitigates their guilt: "they know not what they do." Father, they don't know who I am; they don't understand your law; they don't realize the evil in what they do. Forgive them.

Brothers and sisters, the world will never run out of objects for our love or our hatred, especially today when enemies abound. To take that first step toward the perfection Jesus wills for us, we must forgive. We can do nothing else to those we are called to love. If we refuse to forgive, we refuse to love.

If we hope to become the people Moses spoke of in our first reading, "a people sacred to the LORD" [Dt 26:19], we must live up to God's expectations for us, we who were created in His image and likeness.

And so He calls each of us to view this life as a pilgrimage of love, one in which we seek out others, finding Jesus Christ in each person we meet, and letting them recognize Jesus in us. Let God be the one who judges His creations. We need only love...even our persecutors.

Now, what does all this have to do with healing?

Do you remember the movie, "Dead Man Walking"? It was about the execution of a condemned murderer named Robert Willie. But one person you won't see in the movie is Debbie Morris. She was the one victim of Robert Willie who miraculously survived her horrific ordeal.

After Willie's execution, she said, "Justice didn't do a thing to heal me. Forgiveness did."

Yes, it's easy to hate and scream for justice, for man's justice, but it never brings healing. It never brings the closure the world promises. Only forgiveness does that. Only forgiveness heals.

Have you noticed that Jesus often turned first to the soul before He healed the body? Remember that paralyzed man who was lowered through a hole in the roof by his friends? It's really a remarkable healing [See Mt 9:1-8].

First of all, the paralytic never says a word. His friends take him to Jesus, and they go to extremes to get him there. But Jesus, seemingly ignoring the man's infirmity, says:

"Courage, child, your sins are forgiven" [Mt 9:2].

You see, it's the state of the man's soul that troubles Jesus; it is his sins that demand His attention. And it is his soul that Jesus heals. Indeed, Jesus seems to cure the man's paralysis almost as an afterthought, as a means to convince skeptical scribes of His authority to forgive sins. He then heals the body as well: 

"Rise, pick up your stretcher, and go home" [Mt 9:6].

And, unlike so many healed by Jesus, he actually obeys and simply goes home. How about you and me? Do we want to experience the healing power of Jesus' blessing? Then just obey. How did Jesus put it?

"Blessed are those who hear the word of God and obey it" [Lk 11:28].

You're here today for healing? Me too. Join the crowd, because healing is something we all need. So let me leave you with a few thoughts:

First, Look up and pray. Tell God everything, openly and honestly and humbly. You can ask Him for anything. 

Our God is the God of miracles, the God of great wonders, and He can be trusted. His answer may not come right away or in the form you want or expect, but God will answer. 

Is your prayer that of the adult who tries to make a deal with God, or do you come to Jesus as a needy child seeking His saving grace? 

Second, look back and remember what God has done in the past for you and others. 

Yes, God wants us to tell Him our troubles, our sorrows, and needs, but so often we fail to praise Him and thank Him for His goodness, for all He has done for us. In the words of the psalmist:

"I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles" [Ps 77:12].

Then, look forward. A few hours before she died my mother said something remarkable to me: "For the faithful, everything is a gift from God, everything... even this illness. It has taught me so very much."

What might you learn? What does God want from you? What do you know He will do because His ways are perfect?

Finally, look again. Turn your eyes away from the world and look again at your life, but with eyes of faith.

Remind yourself again that He is the God of great wonders and can be trusted.

And know that God loves you, this unique unrepeatable you, with a love beyond your imagining, beyond your hopes and dreams. 

Come to Him today, for His healing touch, and taste the goodness of the Lord.

Homily: Healing Service

This morning one of our visiting priests, Father Ron Oser, celebrated the morning Mass. Deacon Dick Stevens and I assisted. Twice each year we conduct a healing service following this Mass, so the Mass and service draw many who seek healing in their lives and the lives of others. I was asked to preach the homily at Mass, which I have posted below.
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Readings: Is 6:1-8 • Psalm 93 • Gospel: Mt 10:24-33
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A few years ago, on one of my chaplain days at the hospital, I entered the room of a parishioner.

Normally Diane and I minister together, but on this particular day she was ill and couldn't join me. Of course, her absence means I'll more likely say or do something amazingly stupid.

Anyway, I recognized the man, and we talked for a while about his illness. Then I prayed with him and gave him a blessing. He was lonely and afraid, and not all that comfortable as I prayed. Before leaving, I asked if I could add him to the prayer list of parishioners who are ill.

"Oh, no," he replied, "I don't want people to know I'm sick. I'd like to keep it quiet."

"Oh, okay," I said and left his room. I told you I'd do something stupid.

After visiting a few more patients, I entered a room that was crowded with visitors. I apologized for interrupting and said I'd return later, but the patient, a woman of 85, just said, "Don't go. Come on in and join the crowd." And so I did.

She was a Southern Baptist and her visitors included her husband, a sister, a neighbor, several members of her church, and her pastor. Our conversation covered the waterfront -- her family, her hometown, her illnesses.

In her words, "I've got so many things wrong with me, they don't know which ones to work on. But I really can't complain; God let me live a lot longer than I expected."

I asked if I could pray with her, and the whole crowd joined hands.

I prayed for healing and peace, that God's will be done in her life and the lives of all present. We prayed for her doctors, her nurses, and her husband, and thanked God for the gift of friendship. We thanked God too for the gift of discipleship, for those who listen to the Lord when He says, "I was...ill and you cared for me..." Before leaving, I remarked that she was blessed to have so many caring for her and praying for her.

"Yes," she said, "I am blessed. And their prayers mean so much. They let me know that I am loved, that I belong."

When I left home that morning, I asked Diane to pray that I would minister worthily and well. I guess she did, because as soon as I left that room I headed back to the room of our parishioner. I sat down and said:

"Your Baptism made you a child of God, a member of the Church, of a community of the faithful, a community called to love you. Let that community know you need their prayers, because, believe me, you do. The prayer of the community brings healing; it brings you to repentance and brings peace of mind and soul; it brings you the joy you seek in your life, the joy promised by the God who loves you. In your illness you're lonely and afraid. But God wants you to love and be loved. He wants you joyful, not fearful. Don't let pride separate you from those who strive to be true disciples by doing God's will in the world, which includes loving and praying for you. By praying and caring for you they further God's plan for their salvation and that of the world."

Now, I was just as surprised by my words as he was. They certainly didn't come from me. No, the Holy Spirit and Diane's prayers brought those words into being.

Anyway, after the Spirit's little homily, the patient agreed to be prayed for and as I left I asked him to pray for the Baptist woman down the hall. That generated an odd look so I just said: "Pray for her. Her joy will bring you healing."

It's hard not to think of him as I stand before this community of the faithful gathered here today.

We're gathered in communion, as the Church; gathered here in Jesus' holy name; gathered in Christ's Eucharistic presence; and through that communion we're graced by healing today. This, then, is today's first healing thought:

It's through communion with Jesus, communion with each other, indeed, communion with God's created order that brings healing into our lives.

As Jesus reminds us in today's passage from Matthew: He is "Master of the House." We're not the Master. Our redemption, our healing take place on God's terms, not ours. When we come to terms with God's terms, we may well find ourselves confronting some other corner of our lives where the need for healing is even greater.

We're here today in Jesus' name, and so He is with us. He's also with us in Word and Eucharist. Accept His presence and that of His Spirit, for as Jesus told Nicodemus:

"The Spirit blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes" [Jn 3:8].

Let the Holy Spirit move where He wills in your life. For it is through the Spirit, through Him alone, that you receive the healing God wants for you, that you come to know God's will for you. This leads to our second healing thought:

In our brokenness you and I are called to be both healed and healer.

How many of us, pushing aside our own perceived needs, respond to Jesus' call to be healer? How many of you, here today for healing, are pleading with God to heal those sitting next to you? After all, if we've come together as a communion of faith, gathered here to bring God's healing to His Church, we must respond to His call to be healers.

We all need healing, every one of us. But so often we don't realize the healing God desires for us. Instead we just get irrational: "Why me, Lord, why me?" And then we change our tune: "Heal me, Lord, of this evil thing you gave me."

Isn't that amazing! We blame God, and then ask Him to fix it. And we call ourselves intelligent beings.

We plead for healing...alone

Of course we're just focused on ourselves, and by focusing on ourselves instead of God, we find nothing but fear and loneliness...just like the parishioner in the hospital.

Do we ever think of asking God to turn that which is evil in our lives into something good?

Look around you. Reach out to another in need of healing. Set aside your own needs and minister to the other, to Jesus: "I was...ill and you cared for me" [Mt 25:36].

When we break free of our self-imposed loneliness our fears disappear. Fear's a very natural, human thing. It'd be unnatural not to fear when life is threatened by illness. But listen again to what Jesus says to the disciples:

"...do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul..." [Mt 10:28]

You see, Jesus is telling us that His true disciple need not fear the world and the evils it can bring. And how does He explain this? Simply by letting us know that

"Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known" [Mt 10:26]

In other words, we should never fear because He promised that, ultimately, the Truth will triumph. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. And He will triumph. As His disciples, we'll join in that victory.

And so, Jesus, the Lord of History, assures us that He will overcome every threat to the body, every illness, every persecution. You see, brothers and sisters, the true disciple - like the martyrs of the past and present who willingly sacrificed their bodies for the Truth - knows he is more than his body. This brings us to our third and final healing thought:

God always heals the human spirit first.

In our sinfulness we need healing of the soul, for only that can bring us eternal life. Three times in this brief passage Jesus tells the Apostles, and He tells us, not to fear. He implies that we must instead rejoice.

I think again of that woman of 85 in the hospital, how she rejoiced in her illnesses, how she rejoiced in the gift of life, how she rejoiced in God's love expressed through those who prayed for her. She knew that God had healed her many times during her long life, healed her body and her spirit. She knew, too, that whatever healing God gives her this day is the healing He meant for her to have.
Simone Weil, the brilliant, young French philosopher who escaped the Nazis, once wrote:

"Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude."

Yes, two very different people - Simone Weil, born Jewish, Catholic by conviction, died in exile in 1943 at the age of 33; and my Southern Baptist patient in The Villages Hospital - and yet they both came to know this truth about the love of God. Let me repeat: 

"Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude."

We see this displayed so often in the Gospel - the love expressed by those who seek healing from the Lord, a love arising out of their saving faith.

We see it in the faith of the woman who had suffered for 12 years with hemorrhages. [Mk 5]

We see it in the faith of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar of Jericho, who leaps to his feet and goes to the Lord...to see. To see what? To see the Way, to see the Truth, to see the Life [Mk 10].

Bartimaeus Leaps for Joy and is Healed

Jesus tells them and so many others like them, "Your faith has saved you."

Brothers and sisters, will all of us gathered here today accept the way of the disciple?

Will we unite our prayers to bring God's healing power to each other, to the world?

In our brokenness, will we accept the call to be healers, taking Jesus to those in need?

Is there enough wonder in us to accept that God, by healing our spirits, by creating in us new hearts - that by doing this He is doing something even greater than the creation of the universe?

Yes, we have a lot of work to do today. For we are all here not just to be healed, but also to carry God's healing power to others.

Like Isaiah in our first reading, we are called, but can we respond to God's call?

"Here I am. Send me" [Is 6:8]

Homily Video: Mass and Healing Service - November 11, 2017

I've already posted the text of this homily -- you can read it here -- which I preached at Mass last Saturday morning before our parish's most recent healing service. We had a wonderful turnout of several hundred people, all in need of healing for themselves or for others in their lives. It seems our parish's wonderful IT people recorded the homily on video and gave me a copy yesterday evening. I post it here for those who would rather listen than read.

Homily: Mass and Healing Service - Saturday, 31st Week of Ordinary Time

Readings: Rom 16:3-9, 16, 22-27; PS 145; Lk 16:9-15
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Good morning, everyone...and praise God - praise Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It's wonderful to see so many here today; all open to God's healing presence. Praise God too for this.

We're gathered here in Jesus' name, so we know He's with us. And where Jesus is, so too is the Father, for they are One, One with the Holy Spirit. We want the Holy Spirit among us in all His power, in all His glory, so we can come to know our loving Father better, all through Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Among the many things Jesus told us about the Spirit is that He does the work of the Trinity.  That's right...the Spirit does all the heavy lifting.

When we turn to Scripture we find the Holy Spirit inspiring, revealing, anointing, and counseling. He does it all. He's the giver of life, the fount of Truth and Wisdom, the sanctifier, the source of sacramental grace, the manifestation of God's power in the world. When Jesus rejoiced, He rejoiced in the Spirit. When He prayed, He prayed filled with the Spirit. The Spirit teaches us, intercedes for us, guides us, and, as promised, will be with us always. Yes, the Holy Spirit, God's gift to us, does God's work in the world. And thank God for that because we certainly need Him in our world today.

Do you know something else? He's also the Divine Healer, for healing is the Spirit's greatest work. God knows how much we all need healing - healing of body, mind and spirit - and He sends His Spirit into the world to heal all who come to Him.

What kind of healing do you need? What do I need? We're so sure we know, aren't we?

We always seem to turn to the obvious -- our bodies. They just don't hold up do they? Illness, injury, and age all take their toll. And so we turn to the Lord in our suffering and in  our fear, in our aches and pains, our illnesses, in the trials of our children, in the sometimes shattered lives of those we love...and we pray for healing. We don't understand why this suffering has fallen upon us, or why God doesn't just take it away. But St. Paul tells us:

"We do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings" [Rom 8:26].

Now that's amazing, isn't it? Because you and I don't know how to pray, the Holy Spirit prays for us, intercedes for us, within the Trinity itself. And He does so in ways we can never understand.

Today I'm going to focus on one verse, actually just four words:

"God knows your hearts..." [Lk 16:15]

About 20 years ago, I was teaching a class of ninth-graders who were preparing for Confirmation. During one of our sessions, while discussing God's divine nature, I went through the list of those attributes we normally assign to God...you know...He is eternal, holy, immutable, infinite, omnipotent, omniscient, immaterial...

Anyway, as I was reciting these attributes, one young man interrupted and asked, "What does omniscient mean?"

"It means God knows everything," I replied.

"Okay," he said, "you really don't mean everything, like what's going to happen tomorrow."

"Oh, yes, He knows everything that happens, throughout all time - past, present and future - and everywhere, in the universe and in eternity, every single thing, no matter how large or small."

But that didn't satisfy this budding theologian. "Okay, but you mean He just knows things. He can't know thoughts too, can He?"

"Oh, yes, thoughts are God's specialty," I said. "He knows your every thought, your every desire, all your hopes and dreams...and He knows them all even before you have them, the good, the bad, and yes, even the ugly."

Well, in the silence that followed...I wish you could have seen that young man's face. "You're really serious, aren't you?" he finally asked.

"Yes, I am. You can't hide from God. He knows you perfectly, far better than you'll ever know yourself. You see, God knows your heart."

God knows your heart...

Yes, brothers and sisters, God knows your hearts.

The psalms praise "God who knows the secrets of the heart" [Ps 44:22]

And Peter, at the Council of Jerusalem, speaking of the Gentiles, tells his brother apostles:

"God, who knows the heart, bore witness by granting them the Holy Spirit just as He did us" [Acts 15:8]

But it's in today's Gospel passage from Luke that we hear these words spoken by Jesus Himself to the Pharisees:

"God knows your hearts"  [Lk 16:15]

Do you think maybe those Pharisees recalled the words of Psalm 139? 

Lord, you have probed me, you know me: you know when I sit and stand; you understand my thoughts from afar...Where can I go from your spirit? From your presence, where can I flee? [Ps 139:1-2,7]

Where can I go from your Spirit?

Yes, "Where can I go from your Spirit?" We can't hide from God.

From our human perspective, His omniscience seems to be a double-edged sword, doesn't it?

We rejoice that God, in humbling Himself to become one of us, also honors us through this same act of love. We rejoice that we are worth so very much to our loving God that even the hairs on our head are numbered. He knows every microbe, every atom of our bodies. He knows our every fear, our worries, our joys, our pains, our sorrows. But He also knows every sin, every dark secret, every hatred, every weakness.

Yes, our awareness of God's omniscience might, as St. Paul says, fill us "with fear and trembling" [Phil 2:12].

Sometimes we respond like Jonah, and try to hide from God; or we turn up the world's volume and try to drown out God's voice. But it doesn't work...because God knows my heart. He knows my entire being.

Too often we simply forget this remarkable truth about God. We think we have to teach Him things.

I remember visiting a woman in a nursing home, giving her the Eucharist, and afterwards chatting with her for a while. I'd visited her several times before, but had never really had the opportunity to talk with her. Anyway, that day she was very upset with God. She'd been seriously ill for a long time, and wasn't getting any better.

"I pray every day," she said, "hoping that God will help me get better. If God only knew how much I suffer..." It took every ounce of control not to burst out laughing. That, of course, would not have been very pastoral.

Instead I assured her that our all-knowing, all-loving God certainly knew how she suffered, and that He too had suffered.

I always carried a few cards with me. They had a picture of Christ crucified on one side and the words to that wonderful old "Prayer Before a Crucifix" on the other. I gave her one and we prayed together. We prayed for healing, that the Holy Spirit would take her heart, the heart that God knows so well, and fill it with His healing peace.

As I left that day, for the first time I saw her smile. She died a week later.

But, you see, brothers and sisters, we're all a little bit like her, aren't we? We all like to complain about our sufferings. As my wife, Diane, will be happy to tell you, I'm not a very good sufferer.

I remember back in my Navy days, a fellow officer, knowing that I was a Catholic, mentioned that he could never be a Catholic: "You people seem to enjoy suffering so much. That can't be healthy."

Well, he wasn't talking about me. And, anyway, he was wrong. Catholics don't enjoy suffering. To enjoy suffering is to be mentally ill. No, we Christians accept suffering, and that's something quite different. We all experience suffering; it's truly democratic.

Victor Frankl, the Jewish psychiatrist who survived his years in the Auschwitz death camp, wrote a wonderful book, Mans Search for Meaning. He wrote of our freedom to choose how we respond to suffering. We can choose to be embittered, broken, hateful, resentful, or we can accept our sufferings as a path to something greater.

Gate to Auschwitz Death Camp

As always, Jesus shows us the way. He took His sufferings and turned them into something far greater, into an act of redemption. All of Scripture points to that act, to the Cross, for it's nothing less than the story of God's love, of His willingness to suffer for you, for me, for all of humanity. And we're called to join our sufferings to His. We're called to be like Paul who could say:

"Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church..." [Col 1:24]

You see, dear friends, what's lacking in Christ's suffering is our acceptance of our own suffering, willingly taken up with Jesus on His walk up Calvary.

As Christians suffering has meaning and worth because through it we share in Christ's sacrifice. When you and I come to understand, if only in the smallest way, His sorrow and His undeserved suffering, ours begins to pale and lighten as we place ourselves at His Side. And through that experience we learn how well God knows our heart. Through that experience we realize how faltering, how inadequate our prayer is; and how much we need the Spirit to intercede for us with those inexpressible groanings of His.

There will be healings here today, sisters and brothers. Some of you have come for physical and emotional healing. And there will be some of those. But every one of us here today needs spiritual healing, healing of the soul, the healing that comes from total surrender to God.

God knows your heart, but what's in your heart today? Are you willing to make an act of surrender, an act of abandonment, and take all that you have, all that you are, and lay it at Jesus' feet.

He wants it all, you know...out of a love so great it's beyond our understanding.

He wants us to mirror His redemptive act of love by sharing in the crosses that we each must bear.

And did you come here today only to pray for your own healing? What of those sitting to your left and right, or behind or in front of you? Will you join with all of us as we pray for each other?

Do we recognize the power of the collective faith and prayers of our community?

Do we trust that Jesus can do the same for us as faithful, prayerful people who lift others up who need to be healed?

After Mass we'll have a laying on of hands. Come forward. Turn your heart and mind to Jesus Christ. Give Him permission to come into your life, to work His will within you.

"Heal me, Lord, and heal those around me." Let that be your prayer. "Heal me, Lord, of all that's keeping me from being one with you."

Trust God, brothers and sisters. He knows your heart.

Praised be Jesus Christ...now and forever.