Birthday and Life

A few weeks ago, on Friday the 13th, I celebrated a birthday, my 80th, and I’m slowly coming to terms with it all. I suppose, from one perspective, it’s just another birthday, one among many. But it’s also a birthday I never really expected to reach. When I was younger, 80 seemed so very, very old and I simply never really considered living that long. And later, as a Naval aviator, I thought my life might be cut short by some unanticipated, catastrophic event in either war or peace. But, surprisingly, I survived, and here I am, 80 years old! And it still seems so very, very old. But I thank God for permitting me to live so long, and ask what He still has in store for me. After all, He didn’t keep me alive just to count the days or aimlessly stumble about, but to do some good. Sometimes, though, the good we’re called to do is involuntary, simply the result of God’s work. We do it but don’t ever, at least in this life, either understand or see its results. So, as Jesus commands us, “Repent, and believe in the Gospel” (Jn 3:15). Yes, we are called to repentance and to faith, and to keep doing as He commands throughout our days. 

Another redeeming value is my heath; it remains reasonably good, at least for now…although I could stand to lose a few pounds. I’m working on that, and still get up at 5 am every day to take my 2-mile fast walk. I also toss about 50 newspapers from driveways to front doors. Neighbors think I do this out of kindness, but in truth I reap the benefit of bending over to pick up each newspaper and give my back and tummy a minor workout. As a result, I have no problem reaching my 10,000 daily steps, although I’m not sure why that’s a desirable goal. Why 10,000, this remarkably round number, when 9,571 or 11,212 are probably just as good? But my little smart watch (Fitbit) tells me this is important, so I acquiesce and work to achieve this goal. Perhaps that’s the reason we need goals, easily defined, grasped, and achievable goals…like 10,000.

Other goals and hopes are, of course, far more important. For example, the American Catholic bishops have instructed Catholics to vote for life, to vote against those advocating abortion. We can only hope the faithful will listen and obey. That’s right, when the Church speaks definitively, when it speaks from its magisterial teaching authority, we are called to obey. The existing culture of death, which currently rules much of our political life, must be resisted by the faithful. You might not “like” every politician who pledges to support a culture of life. You might disagree on some issues, but as one spokesman for the bishops said, "At the forefront of 'life issues' is the right to be born as the right upon which all other 'life issues' rest.” We cannot, then, vote for anyone who supports abortion, the intentional taking of an innocent human life.

I’ve always believed that ultimately abortion will be overcome by prayer and through the work of the Holy Spirit, who alone can change the hearts and minds of the people. But that doesn’t mean we just ignore the political and simply turn it all over to God, while turning away from the evil surrounding us. The trouble is, when you’re surrounded, you really can’t turn away. And, anyway, God likes to use us to fulfill His work in the world. Just don’t fall into the trap of thinking it’s our work, our effort that brings God’s will to fulfillment. As Mary said, just “Do whatever He tells you” (Jn 2:5). And pray for life!

Homily: 24th Sunday in Ordinary Timne - Year B

Readings: Is 50:5-9a; Ps 116; Ja 2:14-18; Mk 8-27-35

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“Who do you say that I am?”

An interesting question Jesus asks the apostles. Only Peter answers, but he gets it right, doesn’t he? With a little nudging from the Holy Spirit.

“You are the Christ” [Mk 8:29], he responds. That’s right --  You’re the Messiah, the one who will set us free. Of course, Peter’s understanding is very different from that of Jesus. This becomes apparent just a few moments later when Peter gets it wrong. He gets it so wrong that Jesus calls him a Satan. I guess that’s about as wrong as you can get.

Poor Peter. He’s beginning to understand who Jesus is. We see this in Matthew’s Gospel where this same scene is described. Here Peter answers Jesus by saying,

“You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” [Mt 16:16]

For Peter, Jesus is the promised one, the king who will reign over Israel and bring freedom to His people. But Peter’s idea of a king and freedom are human concepts. And there’s the irony. Peter’s beginning to understand, but for all the wrong reasons. In truth, he hasn’t a clue…at least not yet.

Peter and the others never dreamed that the words of Isaiah, words we just heard proclaimed here, could apply to the Messiah, and still less to Jesus:

"I made no resistance, neither did I turn away. I offered my back to those who struck me, my cheeks to those who tore at my beard; I did not cover my face against insult and spittle." [Is 50:6]

Isaiah’s Suffering Servant isn’t the Messiah they envisioned, nor is He the God they worship. It was a slow, painful process for the disciples to change their thinking, something that wasn’t fully realized until after the resurrection, until Pentecost.

And brothers and sisters, we, too, must sometimes go through the same process. That’s one of the more interesting aspects of this exchange between Jesus and Peter: It’s still going on today. Jesus still asks us who do we say He is…and just like Peter, far too many, don’t have a clue.

Many so-called Christians stopped believing in Jesus’ divinity long ago. I mean, really, how can any educated person today believe that this itinerant 1^st century Jewish preacher was actually God? A powerful teacher, perhaps…a man of strong character…a wise philosopher…all of these things…but the Son of God?

Others will say, okay, maybe he was a prophet…Or a great moral leader…Or a revolutionary hero…Or simply a good man who, like many other good men, died before his time…Or perhaps he was simply a fool…Yes, indeed, these answers, and others like them, are all out there.

But for most of us, for us Christians, at least when things are going well in our lives, Jesus’ question is easy to answer: He’s the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

When you saw your newborn child or grandchild for the first time…Thank you, Lord; Oh, yes, Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

When a loved one is cured of that life-threatening disease…Thank you, Lord…Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

When an adult child returns to the Faith. Thank you, Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

Oh, we know the answer when things are going well, in the midst of success and happiness and the good things of life.

But then, there are other days, aren’t there? Days when that question nags and challenges — even taunts us for a response: But who do you say that I am? When others ask about Jesus, what do you say to them?

“I don’t know!”, we want to cry. “I wish I knew. I wish I could say for certain…”

So often, that question comes to us, not from one of the good places, with nice landscaping, and good food, and valet parking, and room service. 

Sometimes it comes from the deserts of our lives, from the dark woods choked with thorns and brambles. Then it just doesn’t sound very pleasant, does it? No, it sounds sharp, so sharp it can wound. Yes, God’s question, “Who do you say that I am?” comes just as often from places of uncertainty, from places of pain and conflict.

And that’s when we want to scream an answer: “I thought I knew who you were, but not today, not after this…” Not when we’re lost in those wilderness places, places where the border between hope and folly, between life and death, between trust and despair – places where those distinctions are so blurred the words become almost meaningless to us.

A few weeks ago, I conducted a committal service for a family at the National Cemetery in Bushnell. The husband and father, seemingly in wonderful health, had died suddenly of a heart attack while he and his wife were visiting their children. One moment he was laughing and playing with the grandchildren and the next moment he was gone. They were devastated – all of them – and each struggled to answer Jesus’ question: But who do you say that I am? And do you know something? So did I.

For it was one of those days when the answer we want to give, the witness we want to be, the words we long to say – the healing words, the comforting words, the reconciling words, the words of faith and hope – stick deep in the back of our throats, or remain stubbornly silent, too elusive, too fragile, too uncertain to be spoken aloud.

And yet that question, “Who do you say that I am?” continues to echo down through the ages from the hills of Galilee. It lingers in the air of a refugee camp in the Sudan. It shouts from a hospital bed in Leesburg, or a half-way house in the Bronx or nursing home in Palm Beach. It calls to us from a tunnel in Gaza, from an empty kibbutz in Israel, from a burned-out village in Nigeria, or a soup kitchen in Wildwood. From a neighborhood across the globe to one just around the corner and down the street.

Who do you say that I am?

The question arises when good men and women die, when families grieve, when hearts are broken when trust is betrayed. When it’s not a beautiful day in The Villages, who do we say Christ is? Is He still the Messiah, the son of the living God?

After Jesus asked that question, he turned to the crowd and told them:

“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.  For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it” [Mk 8:34-35].

For that grieving family standing at the graveside, for the woman just diagnosed with cancer, for the man who unexpectedly loses his job…these words of Jesus are hard words to hear. For so many, isn’t life itself burden enough?

But in truth, only the cross can bear the full weight of human suffering. Only the cross contains the promise that death is not the final word. Only the cross offers real hope in the midst of the world’s despair. Just watch the news, folks, and see the chaos and hatred. 

Do we accept and believe this truth even when our world is crumbling and the path ahead seems so uncertain? Not if our lives reflect a double standard. How can we be Christians and yet have the same values as the rest of society? We can’t.

Sisters and brothers, we are surrounded by a Godless culture, a culture of death. As Jesus prayed to the Father:

I gave them your word, and the world hated them, because they do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world [Jn 17:14].

Do we belong to the world, or do we belong to Jesus Christ?

How can we be Christians if our primary concerns are with material plenty, professional success, great careers for our children and grandchildren? Oh, it’s a full-time job just "saving" our lives, just locking in our security, isn’t it?.

But then Jesus tells us that to be really free, we must let it go, stop clinging. He tells us to give and not to grab, to share and not to hoard, to choose life at every stage, from conception until natural death. To see others as brothers and sisters, not as rivals and competitors. He tells us to love others, to reach out to them, not to guard against them.

Who do you say that I am?  he asks us, every day.

In the end, though, the question doesn’t call for an answer in words; no, it demands a decision; it demands action. Words are easy, aren’t they? Recall what James told us in our 2^nd reading.

"Go in peace…Oh, and if you have no bread, well, don’t worry, God will provide.”

"Sorry, I can't help you now, I’m on my way to Mass."

"Oh, yes, I can imagine how difficult it must be to be homeless. I'll pray for you."

No, Jesus doesn’t want just words; He wants a decision, a decision to pick up our cross, to help others carry theirs, and to follow Him together…for He’s the only one who knows the way…the way home.

God love you.

Homily: Silver Rose Prayer Service

Readings: 2 Cor 9:24-27; Ps 63; Luke 1:26-38

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About 1,600 years ago, way back in the year 431 the Council of Ephesus gave Mary the title, Theotokos, a Greek word meaning “God Bearer” or “one who gives birth to God” or as we say today, “the Mother of God.” By giving her that title, the council didn’t mean that Mary was the Mother of God from eternity. But because Jesus Christ is true God and true man, and Mary gave birth to Him, she is, therefore, the Mother of God in time.

It’s the misunderstanding of the Church’s long-held teaching on this relationship between Mary and Jesus that has led some Christians to think that we Catholics worship Mary as some sort of goddess. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. From the reality of this relationship, we can fulfill her prophecy in the Magnificat and can call Mary the “Blessed Mother.”

As many of you know, motherhood is no easy vocation. Both my mother and my wife had to put up with a lot and sacrifice even more during those years when their time was focused so intently on raising their children. But can you imagine how it must have been for Mary…to be the Mother of God…and be fully aware of it? After all, Gabriel hid nothing from her:

“Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”

Mary, then, knew from the first that this child of hers was the “Son of the Most High,” or as Gabriel added later, “the Son of God.”

What a remarkable family life! Mary and Joseph raising Jesus who is fully human, all the while aware of His divine origin, His divine nature. Luke, and to a lesser extent, Matthew, give us a glimpse of life in the Holy Family. It’s as if the Holy Spirit is telling us, “You don’t need to know the details of daily life in this holiest of families, but I will share a few incidents with you, so you will know who Jesus, Mary, and Joseph really are.” Just consider all that Mary encountered:

The long arduous trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem, and the unexpected need to give birth in a cave, a stable fit only for animals.

The Presentation in the Temple, a prophecy of pain she would suffer, sorrow she would experience.

A life-saving flight to Egypt, refugees in a foreign land where they await the death of a brutal king.

The quiet years in Nazareth, when she no doubt wondered how this Son of hers, this Son of the Most High, would fulfill all that had been prophesied. She knew that He would eventually leave her to carry out the Father’s will in the world.

And another event Luke shares with us: the Passover pilgrimage to Jerusalem, when the 12-year-old Jesus is lost in the crowd of pilgrims. The panic she and Joseph experienced, the frantic search, the joy of finding him, and their bewilderment when after three days He wondered at their parental concern.

In each instance Mary wouldn’t fully understand – just as later she wouldn’t fully understand her Son at Cana, or when He asked the crowd, “Who is my mother?” or when she cradled her Son’s lifeless body in her arms at the foot of the Cross.

But always, Mary ponders these things in her heart. She knows God’s ways are not ours. Could she fully understand the crucifixion of her Son, God’s Son? And so, she ponders. She steps away, seeks the quiet of contemplation, and savors all that has been revealed to her.

In doing so teaches us how to pray, how to accept God’s will, how to abandon oneself to God’s love. She ponders, she returns to the source, to that day when the angel declared her, “full of grace,” when her heart overflowed. “…full of grace”, and that’s exactly what Gabriel meant. Mary is literally full of God’s grace, so full there’s no room for any sin within her.

And how could it be otherwise? For God incarnate must enter the world via a spotless vessel, born of woman but a woman without sin. For her pondering heart is immaculate, perfectly pure, because it focuses solely on Jesus. Mary is single-hearted. She trusts in God, just as she trusted when Gabriel asked for her response.

But now, today, that same trusting, pondering, immaculate heart is focused on you and me, interceding for our salvation. This, brothers and sisters, is the immaculate heart, the heart of Theotokos, the Mother of God whom we honor here today. For Our Lady of Guadeloupe presented the world with a gift of Castilian roses and an image of herself, a virgin awaiting the birth of our Savior.

Without Mary’s “let it be done”, her fiat, without her declaration of faith, without the word of Mary, the Word of God could not be Emmanuel, God with us. What did the angel tell her? “You shall conceive and bear a son…the Son of the Most High.” And Mary agrees: “Let it be done to me according to your word.” With this, Jesus is not simply in her thoughts and hopes, in her prayers and yearnings. He is in her flesh. His flesh is her flesh. Hers is His. She waits only to see His face and offer Him to the world. This is Our Lady of Guadeloupe. She knows she is blessed, for she told us…

“…He has looked with favor on his lowly servant. From this day all generations will call me blessed: the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name.”

Words we too should pray every day, because God has done great things for us well. He’s given us His Son, who in complete humility takes on our flesh, redeems us through His passion and death, and in His Resurrection defeats death.

But isn’t it interesting that Christ’s redemption of the world requires the consent of Mary. We are created in and for love. Had God imposed His will on Mary, without her free consent, love would be absent, and we couldn’t share His divine life, which is freedom.

Through her love for Jesus, Mary is the first disciple, and the one who lived discipleship to the fullest. Jesus told us clearly what it means to be a disciple: “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother…the ones who listen to the word of God and act on it.” And that is Mary: She hears God’s word within her, and she acts.

She visits her older kinswoman, Elizabeth, who was with child and needed Mary’s help. Mary’s first act as Jesus’ mother is to carry him, not for herself, but for someone in need. And how wonderful, when Mary greeted Elizabeth, John the Baptist leapt for joy in Elizabeth’s womb. Yes, Our Lord was first greeted in the world by an unborn infant who sends a message of life to the world.

Mary, the perfect disciple, follows Jesus. She is blessed, not only because she bore God’s Son, but also because she is the prime example of those who listen to the word of God and keep it. She follows Jesus all the way to the Cross, and beyond. She remains faithful even after her Son’s death, listening to the Lord, joining the apostles in prayer, waiting for the coming of the Holy Spirit.

And just as Jesus came to Mary in poverty and human weakness, He comes to us today, not in glory, but in helplessness. Just as He came to Mary powerless, Jesus comes to us in the hungry and thirsty, in the stranger, the lonely, the sick and dying, the confused and troubled, addicted and imprisoned. Again, in the Magnificat, she sings that

[God] “has scattered the proud in their conceit. 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…for he has remembered his promise of mercy.”

Today God chooses to proclaim His truth to the world through you and me. That’s right, we must become truth tellers. We must courageously counter the lies and distortions of the culture of death, all the weeds planted and cultivated by Satan. For we are a Church of life. Did not Jesus say, “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.” Just as Mary said, “Yes,” to life, so must we.

So many cry out to God in their confusion: they hunger for love, for truth, for justice, for life…It’s more than a human cry; it’s God’s Word calling.

I can’t tell you exactly what God is calling you to do, for God works differently through each of us. I can assure you He’s not telling you to do nothing. We are Jesus’ disciples, in imitation of Mary, but only if we listen to his word and act on it. Our faith, then, must be a living, active faith. How did Jesus put it? “Repent and believe in the Gospel.” Yes, indeed, accept and repent of our sinfulness and accept the gift of faith.

This kind of discipleship is not without cost; it’s never easy. “A sword shall pierce your heart,” Mary was told – just as it must pierce the heart of every true disciple. But like Mary we can take comfort in God’s presence within us.

As Jesus told us, if we love Him and keep His word, His Father will love us, and they will come and make their home with us. Christ all around us. Christ leading us. Christ within us. We need only listen to Mary. In her words, “Do whatever He tells you”, and then do it.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, pray for us.

 

A Lifeless President

Long ago, in another parish far, far away, I was asked by my pastor to teach a mini-course on the major heresies that have plagued the Church over the past 2,000 years. It was one of those parish adult faith-formation evening programs -- you know the kind: too much information packed into a half-dozen one-hour sessions. When I told the pastor I was by no means an expert on heresies, and he might want to choose someone else, he just said, "Well, I guess you'll be an expert soon enough. We'll schedule it to begin late next month. That'll give you six weeks to get ready." The course actually attracted more parishioners than expected, and nobody threw soft fruit at me, so I guess it went well enough.

As I prepared the course, I probably learned far more than I wanted to about heresies and heretics. But one of the most revealing things that stuck with me was a basic attitude apparent among those who developed and propagated their heretical ideas. They seemed driven by a self-focused attitude, in effect declaring: "I am smarter and holier than the Church; listen to me." Most of these heretics were very smart people (I can't speak to their holiness. We'll leave that to God.) But none were smarter than the Holy Spirit whose inspiration guides the Church and its teachings. They were, then, destined to be heretical and not orthodox. 

Another thing worth noting: because heresies, by their very nature, originate within the Church, most of the Church's serious problems and attacks are internal. The Church's ecumenical councils -- at least the first 20 of them -- were dogmatic councils addressing heresies and other dogmatic issues, internal problems faced by the Church. 

All of this came to mind recently while reading a couple of news stories about our president. Both stories focus on his public comments and actions related to abortion and seem to reflect deeply held beliefs that ignore the magisterial teaching of the Catholic Church. This is especially troubling since President Biden often refers to himself as a "devout Catholic" even while undermining, or actually attacking, the Church and its teachings.

I suppose I’ve always expected him to experience a true metanoia, an inspired moment leading to repentance and true conversion, a moment when he publicly turns back to his Catholic faith. But so far, nothing. When it comes to virtually all moral issues, Joe Biden just takes on the role of heretic, apparently assuming he, too, is smarter and holier than the Church. In his case, however, I think we can dismiss any thought of his being smarter, and as for his holiness, I can judge only by the fruits of his words and actions. I will keep those judgments to myself.

You may have seen these stories, but each is truly cringeworthy when you realize they represent the policies of a self-declared "devout Catholic" president.

Official Guest at State of the Union Address. President and Mrs. Biden have invited Kate Cox to be one of their official guests at the next State of the Union Address. Ms. Cox recently aborted her disabled, unborn child. She was the key figure in the recent abortion case that centered on a Texas law preventing the abortion of a 20-week-old unborn child. The state Supreme Court upheld the law, so Ms. Cox went to another state for the abortion. The White House Press Secretary, Karine Jean-Pierre, stated that the president and his wife have "thanked her for her courage and sharing her story and speaking out about the extreme abortion ban in Texas. The First Lady invited her to join her as a guest at the State of the Union and Kate accepted." Here's a link to the story: State of the Union.

How sad that our Catholic president and his wife have publicly praised this woman who actually took the life of her disabled, unborn child. No doubt President Biden will honor her during his State of the Union Address. It would seem the nation's first family is openly taunting the Church's bishops: "We, not you, are the new arbiters of morality. From now on we will decide what is good and what is evil. The people will listen to us, not you." Yes, indeed, it gives new meaning to the words of Satan in the Garden:

"God knows well that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods, who know good and evil" [Gen 3:15].

Pray for our president, for his family, and for Kate Cox, asking God to lead them to the conversion he desires for them. 

President Biden: Christian Doctors Must Perform Abortions. Our president just can't endure anyone who's opposed to abortion. He has taken on the prime directive of the radical left: We cannot tolerate those who disagree with our beliefs and our policies. Yep, those who disagree with us must be forced into agreement, or simply cancelled. 

A case in point involves President Biden's Department of Health and Human Services. In July 2022, shortly after the United States Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, HHS issued guidance claiming that the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act (EMTLA) required hospital emergency staff to provide abortions. This rule change by Biden's HHS altered the previous policy protecting doctors and nurses from having to take part in medical procedures that conflict with their moral or religious beliefs. The new policy removes these protections which were actually strengthened by the Trump administration. Fortunately, a U.S. Appeals Court ruled that the "Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act does not require hospitals to provide abortions" thus blocking the administration from enforcing this new rule.

But this is just a temporary victory. The Biden administration is not letting this go and is fighting for so-called "abortion rights" at every level. I expect this will, at some point, end up before the U. S. Supreme Court.

The President recently stated that he will make abortion the key issue in the upcoming presidential campaign. I suppose this means he will focus on the goodness of abortion and on the evil of all pro-lifers, as personified by former President Trump. I'll admit, I voted for Donald Trump twice, in 2016 and 2020 (but not in the primaries), simply because I always vote pro-life. I've long been a policy voter who sometimes must overlook annoying traits and personal weaknesses. After all, I have quite a collection of these myself. But abortion will always be a major determinant because it is among the greatest of sins, the willful murder of the most innocent human lives. At Mass every Sunday and Solemnity we pray together the Nicene Creed, affirming our belief in the "Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of life." If we believe this, to take a living, human life before it even has a chance to breathe the air of Creation must be the most horrendous of sins.

Pray for our world, our nation, and our people.

Homily: Feast of the Holy Innocents

 Readings: 1 Jn 1:5-2:2; Ps 124; Mt 2:13-18

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More than any other time in the liturgical year, Christmas is a celebration of life. It’s the day we celebrate the remarkable gift of the Father – the gift in which He gives us His Son, Jesus Christ, by having Him share in our human life. During this season God sends Himself into the world. He becomes one of us:

“And the Word became flesh, and made His dwelling among us” [Jn 1:14].  

Yes, Christmas is a wonderful manifestation of God’s love for us – His regard for the gift of life He has given us.

Today, however, in our Gospel reading we witness an event describing man’s rejection of this gift. Herod, so afraid of losing his earthly power, a power that cannot last, turned his fear into hate, and hate into the destruction of innocent life. In a very real sense, these little ones gave their lives so the Son of God could be Emmanuel and live among us.

Like many of today’s political leaders, Herod foolishly believed he could defeat the will of God. Driven by fear and hatred, he became a mass murderer of the most innocent among his people.

Slaughter of the Innocents

Sagrada Familia, Barcelona

Today we face with something very similar, but in truth it’s something far worse. Since 1973 over 60 million of our nation’s most innocent have been slaughtered by abortion. And that’s just a small percentage of the global total. It’s time to stop this child-killing and put the Life back into Christmas, to eradicate the culture of death.

I’m convinced, though, this won’t come about through politics. No, it will happen only when we as God’s People undergo a change of heart, when we all begin to lead the Christian life the Gospel calls us to lead. As Catherine Doherty phrased it, when we learn to live “the Gospel without compromise.”

We can start by following Joseph and obeying God’s commandments – quite simply, to do what He tells us, even if He tells us to get up in the middle of the night and go to where we don’t want to go.

We are called also to love, and that means loving even the Herods of today’s world. Love them into God's kingdom by forgiving them, praying for them, suffering for them, and sharing the love of Jesus with them.

We are called, too, to repentance, to ask God to heal our apathy, our own weak faith. As John told us in our reading today,

"If we acknowledge our sins, He Who is just can be trusted to forgive our sins and cleanse us from every wrong" [1 Jn 1:9].

You see, brothers and sisters, you and I aren’t engaging in battle with people. No, our real battle is with Satan. By prayer and fasting we can drive out the demons of abortion and hatred, as well as the plagues of war and terrorism.

And finally, we can fix our eyes always on Jesus. It is He who welcomes the innocents of yesterday, today, and tomorrow into the Kingdom, and it is He, and only He, Who can forgive those who took their precious lives.

Only Jesus Christ, and the grace He showers on us through His holy Church, can save us from our sinfulness and from eternal death.

Only Jesus Christ can give us the gift of life, eternal life, for He is the Lord of Life.

We must never forget that.

Life and Death

Today is my birthday, and at 78 I can no longer deny the fact that I’m gradually turning into…well, an old man. Other than occasional aches and pains, though, I don’t feel very old. And unlike many others, I’m certain I don’t look my age, but then I really don’t spend much time in front of mirrors. I’m still active, and try to make my doctor happy by slimming down to a healthier, more comfortable weight. I don’t run anymore, but my dog, Maddie, and I walk a few miles each day. My brain seems to be a reasonable facsimile of the brain I used as a younger man. Okay, I admit I suffer from occasional short-term memory lapses, but I blame this on the fact that my brain cells must store 78 years of rather intense memories and a tremendous amount of largely useless information, so there’s probably not much room in there for a lot of new stuff. And searching all those cells for memories, new or old, takes some time. I suppose, then, I should be happy given that I’ve been up and about and doing fairly well since leaving the womb on September 13, 1944. But whenever I start to feel so very good about myself, God comes along and points to someone who reminds me of my weaknesses and the amazing strength of others.

This afternoon, while searching through my messy, unorganized bookcases for a particular book, I came across another, a book I bought and read many years ago. I recall spotting it on a shelf in a used bookstore and being intrigued by its unusual title, Noor-un-nisa Inayat Kahn (Madeline). After flipping through its pages, I bought the book for just a couple of dollars. But once I began reading, I couldn't put it down and finally finished it late that evening. 

I was captivated by the subject of this true story about a remarkably brave young woman. It was the story of Noor Inayat Khan, an Indian-born, Sufi Muslim who volunteered as an undercover agent for the British Special Operations Executive during World War Two. In June of 1943 she was flown to a secret landing site in France. For the next four months she worked with the French resistance radioing critical information back to London. While in Paris, she was betrayed to the Germans and captured in October 1943. She underwent a month of vicious interrogation during which she revealed nothing. Labeled an "extremely dangerous prisoner," she was sent to Germany where she was imprisoned for months in solitary confinement with her hands and feet shackled. Eventually Noor was sent to Dachau and summarily executed along with three other female undercover agents captured by the Germans: Yolande Beekman, Elaine Plewman and Madeleine Damerment. Their bodies were burned in the camp's crematorium.

Dachau Crematorium 

It was then I discovered that all four women were executed on the day I was born, September 13, 1944. I found this particularly moving since I had actually visited Dachau with my family in the winter of 1951, not that many years after their deaths. Although I was just seven years old at the time, that visit made a lasting impression on me, especially the crematoria. Now, 78 years after their deaths, I find myself celebrating a birthday while at the same time thanking God for Noor Inayat Kahn are her three courageous, freedom-loving companions whose lives ended just as mine was beginning. 

Life and death, beginnings and endings -- every ending, every death, brings a new beginning, new life. How did Jesus put it?

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life” [Jn 12:24-25].

When I once related this story to a friend, who lives a rather closed version of Christianity, he stated it was too bad the Kahn woman was a Muslim because she could never be saved. I, of course, disagreed and chastised him for assuming he could tell God to whom He could extend His mercy. Before he could respond I just quoted Jesus:

"Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” [Jn 15:13].

Though these four women never knew me, I think of myself as one of their friends. I pray for the souls of these wonderful women every day and especially on this day when so many wish me a "Happy Birthday." For them, we pray, it was a happy day of new birth.

A Story of Success, Failure, and Salvation

Years ago, an acquaintance — let’s just call him Fred (not his real name) — died rather suddenly, the result, as I recall, of a brain embolism. Fred, a financial wizard of some repute, was considered, by most human standards, very successful. His expertise in the confusing and challenging area of international finance landed him an influential position at a major financial institution. His reputation grew, his expertise was sought, so he decided to start his own consulting firm providing financial and organizational advice and direction to companies hoping to expand their international business. Instantly successful, he opened a Manhattan office and even maintained a small apartment in the city which he used when work was especially demanding. Fred, his wife, and their two teenagers lived in a large home in an upscale New York suburb. They vacationed in all the best places, and the kids went to the best schools. Yes, indeed, Fred enjoyed a very good life. Well...it would have been a good life, had he actually enjoyed it. If you had asked those who thought they knew Fred well to describe him using one word, I’m sure most would have responded with, “angry.” 

Fred and I were both consultants and first met when we happened to be assisting the same company at the same time. Our work, of course, was very different. Fred showed his clients how they could make tens of millions by expanding internationally, while I provided needed training for front-line managers and sales and support people. Occasionally I also offered some customer-focus direction. Fred got paid very big bucks, while I got paid. We were both happy...well, I was anyway.

I referred to Fred as an “acquaintance” because our few meetings had always been in business situations, and we certainly weren’t friends. I suspect Fred had few, if any, real friends, something that become more apparent over time. The last time we met was a dinner Fred and I shared in the restaurant of the hotel in which we were both staying. For once he seemed quite pleasant. For whatever reason he was unusually talkative that evening and far more revealing than ever before. Perhaps he’d concluded I was no threat. Anyway, for several hours, over dinner and drinks, we talked about of many things. Fred told me about growing up as an only child in a rural Pennsylvania community. His dad was a heavy equipment operator and his mom taught elementary school. 

I can’t recall how or why, but at some point the subject of religious belief arose. He told me his father was Lutheran and his mother Jewish, so “religion wasn’t something we talked about. It was pretty much avoided, so I suppose I’m agnostic.” His family wasn’t poor but neither were they wealthy. He said he had always envied those with money and decided he would find a way to join their ranks. He had some memorable lines; for example, “Education actually became my religion, the path to the salvation I hoped for.” He studied hard, earned scholarships, and in graduate school chose a challenging field in high demand. His was a planned success. In his words, “My work is my life, and my life is my work.”

At some point that evening, when I asked him about his family, he responded oddly by saying only, “I take care of them, so they’re happy enough.” He then changed the subject and began to describe the weaknesses of the client company management that had hired us both that week. The occasion was a company-wide series of meetings. I would conduct about a week of customer focus training for the company’s field engineers, while Fred would work with the management team, helping them implement the plan he had developed for their fledgling international operations. As he spoke to me about their lack of vision, he grew more irritated and more sarcastic. I suppose my expression of surprise tipped him off, for he stopped suddenly and laughed. “As you can tell, I don’t suffer fools gladly.” Indeed he didn’t, but I knew he was wise enough not to display his irritation in the client’s presence. And I knew he trusted me, knowing I would never reveal his true feelings to those he served. 

It was my turn to change the subject. “Fred, you said your family was happy, but how about you? You’ve worked hard. You’re certainly successful. You’ve just published a book. Quite honestly, though, you don’t seem very happy. What are you hoping for in this life you’ve been given?” 

The question obviously surprised him, but Fred was an intelligent man and far more introspective than I’d expected. “An interesting question,” he said, “but with no easy answer — the kind of question I’d usually avoid. I’ve never thought of my life as a gift. You’re getting theological on me, aren’t you?” He raised a hand to stop me from responding and added, “Let’s just leave it at that. You’ve given me something to think about, and that’s always a good thing.”

I never saw Fred again. When I returned home, I sent him a copy of Peer Kreeft's book, Making Sense Out of Suffering. It had been published just a few years before and for some reason I thought Fred would benefit from it. I suppose I saw his anger as a symptom of a suffering soul. He responded with a brief, rather cryptic note: "Thanks for the book -- a lesser gift, but it's led me to think of a greater one. We'll see. - Fred"

Fred died about a year later, but It was some weeks before I heard the news. I believe he was in his mid-50s at the time, probably ten years my senior. I can't explain why, but I felt compelled to call his wife, a woman I had never met, to express my condolences. After a few explanatory comments, she said, "Oh! You're the one who sent the book. It really had an impact on Fred.” I didn’t pursue that comment but just told her I would pray for her and her children, and would also pray for Fred. She thanked me for that.

So often, as we struggle through life’s ups and downs, we mistakenly assume only wealth and success can bring the happiness we all seek. Fred was perhaps a perfect example of this fruitless search, a man who had achieved much in the eyes of the world and yet was demonstrably unhappy. I sensed he had reached a turning point, a realization that life pointed to something greater than the material rewards he had actively pursued. Our loving, merciful God offers His gift of faith to all of us, and does so repeatedly in ways to which we are most likely to respond. Our task is to recognize the offering, the wonder of this gift, and to respond in thanksgiving and love. I pray that Fred, before God called him to eternity, had come to understand and accept God’s gift of life as “the greater” gift. 

Homily: All Souls Day

Today, on All Souls Day, Diane and I celebrate our 52nd wedding anniversary. All Souls Day is really a rather odd day for a wedding; indeed, back then it required the bishop’s dispensation. And I’d certainly not dare to forge any kind of connection between marriage and purgatory. Perhaps I’d better change the subject… 

All Souls Day is a really a day when we’re led to contemplate death. Sadly, so many today believe that death is the end; that nothing follows. And so they avoid even thinking about it because to do so would drive them to the depths of despair. How sad for them. And how blessed we are, full of faith in Our Lord Jesus Christ, Our Savior, and full of hope in His promise of eternal life. 

How did St. Paul put it in our second reading? “…we too might live in newness of life.” “Newness of life” are particularly pleasing words for those of us now experiencing the oldness and oddness of this life. It’s all, Paul tells us, because of the promise of Our Lord’s Resurrection: 

“For if we have grown into union with him through a death like his, we shall also be united with him in the resurrection.” 

Yes, God puts in the heart of every living person a desire for eternal life and happiness with Him. While death claims each of us at our appointed time, God gives us something which death cannot touch -- his own divine life and sustaining power. We need only accept Him in faith, and live that faith. Jesus, of course, said it best:

“For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day." 

He makes so many wondrous promises, doesn’t He? And because He always fulfills His promises, His Church calls us to celebrate God’s merciful love and the salvation of all who have gone before us. For today we not only think of and pray for those we have known and loved, but we also confront our own mortality. Today we pray for those who have died before us, and in doing so are reminded that we too will die. But death is nothing to fear; for Jesus will raise us up at the last judgment to live with him forever. As we prayed in today’s Psalm:

“To dwell in the house of the Lord for years to come…” 

He reminds us, too, that the Father doesn’t want Him to lose any entrusted to His care, but to lead us to eternal life. We must do our part and pray diligently for all our departed, remembering today those who have died in the hope of seeing God face to face. 

Remembering those who died after having sought God with a sincere heart. 

Remembering those who struggled to accept the gift of faith, those who so often slipped into despair. 

But we do not judge them, brothers and sisters, we leave that to the only One who knows their hearts. Indeed, the Father wants no one to be lost. And so, remembering all, we too can pray those words we heard from the Book of Wisdom:

“…chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of Himself.” 

In my own remembering, decades of names and faces pass before me – the many lives that touched mine with love and wisdom in times of sorrow and joy. For each I remember a characteristic, a word, or a moment that captures the person for me; and pray that each now shares in the glory of seeing God face to face. Like you and me, they were sinners, but we trust in His mercy for them and for ourselves. Filled with hope, we look forward to joining them one day. Only then shall we know God as He is; only then shall He make us like Himself. 

 As he begins the Liturgy of the Eucharist Father Vitalis will invite us to lift up our hearts in praise and thanksgiving to God. It is good that we do so. Even though our hearts are sorrowful at the loss of those we love, we should indeed lift them up. We praise God on this special day, thanking Him for these precious lives, for these unique and unrepeatable lives we were privileged to share. 

 Above all, give thanks to God for the gift of eternal life He offers us through His Son, Jesus Christ. With that promise before us, we recall the words of Jesus to His disciples on the night before His own death:

“…Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God. Have faith also in me.” 

Yes, brothers and sisters, today we pray that our Lord Jesus has taken each into His loving embrace, that He’s wiped away the tears, and given them the first taste of that eternal joy we all hope to share.

One more thing...Before Mass someone asked me if I were going to say something about the election. Of course, we are not supposed to tell you whom you should vote for. But I think I can tell you what you should vote for. Vote for Life, brothers and sisters. Vote for Life!

So You Wanna Be A Socialist?

A few years ago, while speaking with a young person who was entering her senior year at a large state university, I suggested that the average high-school graduate from say, 1920 to 1960, was far better educated than the average college graduate today. She responded by saying that, in effect, I was insane: "That's crazy! You really can't believe that..." And so I asked this person a few seemingly simple questions, the kind that a high-school graduate should be able to answer. I began with a series of questions on US history, very basic questions, nothing complex:

• In what year was the Declaration of Independence written? Who was its primary author? From what nation did its signers seek independence? Who was the leader of that nation? What war resulted?
• Who were the first three presidents of the United States?
• The War of 1812 was between the United States and what other nation? 
• During what years did our nation engage in the Civil War? Who was president during those years? Name two leading generals, one from each side?
• In what war did the United States engage in 1898? 
• When did the first World War take place? Name at least two nations on each side. Did the United States take part? Who was our president during this war?
• Name two nations that were among the enemies of the United States during World War Two. What event led to our active involvement in this conflict? 

By this time it became apparent that our soon-to-be college graduate -- a psychology major -- was at an embarrassing loss because her only correct answer was the naming of Abraham Lincoln as president during the Civil War. Interestingly, she could not tell me when the Civil War took place. Her guess? "Around 1900." I won't continue the embarrassment by repeating some of her other answers. I suspect she knew even less about world history.

As her historical ignorance became apparent she objected that my questions all demanded knowledge of meaningless facts, "You know, dates, names, stuff like that...Not really important things like concepts or ideas."

I responded by saying that she was right about the importance of ideas and concepts. But I also suggested that to understand those concepts and ideas we must be able to place them in their proper context, the context of time and place, and to connect them to the people who originated and embraced them. After all, that's what history is. If we are unable to do this, to understand the sources and the results of ideas, how can we evaluate their efficacy? Quite simply, if we don't understand history we will quite likely continue to repeat the mistakes of the past. Of course, George Santayana, a man as complex as the times in which he lived, stated this famously when he wrote: 

"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." 

This encounter, admittedly with a single representative of her generation and, I suppose, anecdotal in the extreme, came to mind when I read that 7 in 10 millennials would vote for a socialist. To anyone who understands the nature of socialism, this might seem unbelievable. But not to me. I can think of only two reasons to be a socialist: a desire for power or invincible ignorance.

For the ideologue, socialism becomes a means to achieve power over others, over many others. And to ignorant snowflakes, who rely more on emotion than intellect, socialism sure sounds good, especially if its history can be ignored. That is, of course, the problem. When we examine the history of socialism we find it inevitably leads to massive corruption, slavery, and death. Socialism always rejects freedom.

During the past 100 years our world has come face to face with socialism in its two forms: the national socialism of Hitler's Germany and the international socialism of communism as manifested by Lenin, Stalin, Mao, Castro, and a host of others. Although often considered opposites, at the extremes of right and left, there's really little difference between the two.

Jesus actually warned us of these evils and provided a key to recognizing them when, in His "Sermon on the Mount," he said:

"Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but underneath are ravenous wolves. By their fruits you will know them" [Mt 7:15-16].

And the fruits of Nazis and communists are remarkably similar: the murder of tens of millions of innocents and the enslavement of hundreds of millions more. Socialism in all its forms places the good of the state -- perhaps, more accurately, the good of those who wield the power of the state -- above all else. Those pesky values we hold dear -- freedom, truth, faith, justice, family, civilization, etc. -- become expendable, sacrificial victims offered to the false gods of socialism.

Socialism is hostile to life and faith. It simply cannot accept Almighty God, the Word, as the supreme good and will always make individual life subservient to the state. Just consider the leftists running for president today. All appear to be farther to the left than President Obama, and none are pro-life.

Our God clearly places the decision before us:

"See, I have set before you life and good, death and evil...Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live, by loving the Lord, your God, obeying His voice, and holding fast to Him" [Dt 30:15,19-20].

How to educate a millennial, and whatever a member of the next generation is called? I haven't a clue. They certainly won't receive a proper education at a public high school or by attending one of our colleges or universities. Most of these institutions abandoned education decades ago in favor of indoctrination and job or professional training. I'd suggest  encouraging your favorite millennial to read books such as Anthony Esolen's The Politically Incorrect Guide to Western Civilization, but in these days of 140-character tweets, reading a book might be asking too much.

Maybe we're simply doomed as a civilization, and some future generation will have to pick up the pieces and begin anew, assuming our merciful God, the Lord of History, doesn't end it all before then.

We certainly live in interesting times. All we can do is preach the Word, follow and live the Way, pray for civilizational healing, and keep the Faith.

Homily: 1st Sunday of Lent (Year C)

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

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

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

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

I managed to get good seats for the audience, up on the platform, just about 30 feet from the Holy Father. But as I looked out at the huge crowd I noticed that most were young people from dozens of nations. The expressions on their faces - of expectation and joy, of optimism and deep faith - were simply beautiful. 

Pope Benedict Surrounded

Still not convinced? Well, a couple of years later I had the opportunity to visit our seminary and meet our young seminarians.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is yours a desert of self-absorption or materialism? Do you ignore the hungers of others, concentrating instead on your own needs and wants? People hunger for more than bread. They hunger for a kind word, for someone who will listen, for a reassuring touch. And most of all they hunger for God's love. Will you be the one who brings it to them?

The Bread of Life

Do you suffer in the desert of habitual sin? Put it behind you. Taste the forgiveness and mercy of God this Lent in the sacrament of reconciliation. The temptations which Jesus rejected are the same temptations we all face, temptations that ultimately merge into the temptation to pride, that dark polluted spring, the source of all other sin.

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

Remember how they taunted Jesus on the cross:

"He trusted in God; let God deliver him if he wants to" [Mt 27:43].

No angels came to Jesus on the Cross, but God's plan was not suspended. Abandoned on this side of the tomb, His trust in the Father never wavered. Nothing separates Jesus from the Father, not a desert or a Cross. Jesus sets His heart on the Father, believes and trusts in Him. And the Father vindicates the Son when and where He chooses. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As St. Paul reminds us in today's first reading:

"Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved" [Rom 10:13].

Can anything be better than that?