Homily: 4th Sunday of Easter - Year B

Readings: Acts 4:8-12; Ps 118; 1 Jn 3:1-2; Jn 10:11-18

I’m going to tell you a story; and it’s a true story.

Back when I was flying off aircraft carriers, we pilots tended to hang out with each other when off duty. We’d talk about aviation, working on improving our skills -- you know, stayin’ alive. But we’d also talk about other stuff, especially over meals. We'd always been told that officers shouldn’t talk religion or politics in the wardroom. In truth, though, we often talked about these things; but we knew each other well and forgave our differences.

One of our squadron pilots, a friend named Bill, talked a lot about religion. I thought that was strange since at best he was agnostic. Anyway, it really bothered him that so many of us were believers, especially Christians. One evening, before one of those tiring night missions, several of us were probably on our fifth cup of coffee, when Bill started on his favorite rant.

“Just look at the universe,” he said. “It’s just too big to imagine with its billions of galaxies. Then we have earth, this tiny planet of ours, so infinitesimally insignificant, stuck in some little cosmic corner.

“Is there a God who made all this? Maybe so. I don't know. 

“But you Christians believe that this God who created everything, and maintains it all, that He decided to come down here to our nothing little planet, become one of us, tell us how to live, and then let us kill Him by nailing Him to a Cross.”

Then he said, “I’m sorry, but this is just beyond…as you would say, beyond belief.” Yes, indeed, Bill thought Christians were idiots. 

Now, I was just another pilot, but felt I had to say something in defense of our faith, so I just said, “Bill, do you love your wife?”

Well, that surprised him. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Do you love Marie?”

“Of course I do.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you together. I can tell you love her.  And you’d do anything for her, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I would.”

“Would you give your life for her?”

“Of course I would. Heck, I’d even give my life for you guys, though you don’t deserve it.”

“Yeah, we know that. You see, Bill, the God who created that great universe you described, also created you and me, and created us in His image and likeness. 

“He created us out of love and created us to love. And because of His love, you can love Marie.”

All Bill said was, “Well…maybe.” I guess I wasn't very convincing.

A few years later I received word that Bill had taken his own life. When we first heard the news one of my more fundamentalist friends said, “How sad that he’s now in hell.”

Well, that made me angry, and for a moment, I just stared at him in disbelief. Finally, I said, “You really think you’re God, don’t you? That you can decide who's saved or who or isn’t. But salvation is God’s business, not ours. All we can do is what Paul told the Philippians:

“…work out your salvation with fear and trembling” [Phil 2:12].

"Only God knows what Bill struggled with, what fears claimed him. Only God knows what was in his heart. All I know is God will look on Bill with love and mercy, for 'His mercy endures forever.'  Because that’s who our God is. And I know nothing else, nothing else for certain.”

I just walked away angry, which was stupid. I’d like to think I’d handle both situations differently today. 

Sisters and brothers, today on Good Shepherd Sunday, we celebrate God’s great love for us, and we do it despite the skepticism and disbelief of so many in the world, people like my friend Bill.

In John’s Gospel we hear Jesus clearly revealing who He is and how important we are to him.

“I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.”

Jesus doesn’t abandon us in the face of danger; no, He sacrifices Himself.

Just consider what it means for God to sacrifice His life for us. This divine sacrificial act has led some to ask: Is God of the Christians insane? Is He crazy? I suppose Bill thought that too.

But our Gid isn't crazy; no, our God is Love. His is a love, not simply beyond our capability, but it’s beyond our understanding. In St. Paul’s words, “He emptied himself” and became one of us to offer His life to save ours. And He did this solely out of love. Do you see the kind of God we have, this Good Shepherd who cares so much for us?

Then, to ensure we get the point, Jesus turns to us and tells us to love others as he has loved us, to be willing to give our lives for them, even for those the world says just aren’t worth it. Our love for God, Jesus tells us, must be mirrored in our love for others.

Remember that wonderful scene described in John’s Gospel when, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, the risen Jesus asks Peter three times:

“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

…and each time Peter responds,

“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

To the first yes, Jesus said “Feed my lambs”; to the second, “Tend my sheep”; and to the third, “Feed my sheep.” Your love for me, Jesus is telling Peter, will be evidenced by how well you tend my sheep, my people, those for whom I sacrificed my life to save.

But Jesus didn’t stop with Peter. He turns to all of us, all of us in the Body of Christ. He doesn’t say, “love me as I have loved you.” No, instead He commands, "love one another as I have loved you." 

In our first reading, we learned that our love for others must manifest God’s love, and the good that we do must be done in Jesus’ name. As Peter proclaimed:

“There is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved."

It’s all Jesus Christ, in Jesus Christ, through Jesus Christ, and only Jesus Christ.

John presents this a bit differently in our 2^nd reading:

“See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God. Yet so we are.”

Children of God… you and me… all of us:

• the poor in need of a meal or a place to sleep...they're God's children
• the Alzheimer’s patient in memory care...is a child of God
• the lonely, the depressed, whom nobody visits...a child of God
• the neighbor undergoing radiation and chemo-therapy...she's a child of God
• the prisoner locked away in his cell...yes, he too is a child of God
• the single mother struggling to make ends meet...a child of God

And, yes, many of us may be suffering as well, but that doesn’t mean we stop loving. 

For all of us, children of God, are brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. We’re not strangers; for children of the same loving Father can’t be strangers. Brothers and sisters of our Lord, Jesus Christ, can’t be strangers.

Jesus calls us not simply to love others, but to see and hear Him in them, to realize that what we do for and to each other, we do to Him.

“I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’

I suppose at judgment we will judge ourselves by our response to this calling as children of God.

Years ago, Diane and I attended a papal audience in Rome, and heard Pope Benedict say:

“As a community, the Church must practice love…The Church cannot neglect the service of love any more than she can neglect the Sacraments and the Word.”

At every level, then — the universal Church, the diocese, the parish, the home – we must love. This is how the Church shows who she really is.

Outside a Catholic church in Syracuse, NY there’s a statue of a man seated on the sidewalk. I think there's a similar statue at Ave Maria University here in Florida. It’s a statue, a sculpture, of a beggar, wearing a hood, his face covered. His hand is stretched out toward those who walk by, much like the hand of the beggar reaching out to Peter in our reading from Acts. 

But if you look closely, you’ll notice a nail hole in that hand. Yes, it’s Our Lord, the risen Jesus bearing the wounds of His love; it’s the Jesus who humbled Himself to became like a slave, a beggar.

For those who pass by it’s a constant reminder to look beyond appearances and see Jesus in all who reach out to them.

And for you and me it’s a reminder that Christ has His hand stretched out to us right now.

God love you.

And please…pray for my friend, Bill, and for all those veterans who found their lives to hard to live.

Grief and Thanksgiving

Note: To respect the privacy of those involved, I have not used any names in this post.  

______________________

On occasion we all get a bit down, thanks to little irritants that loom up and take on an importance far exceeding their reality. This is no virtue because, in truth, it’s more than a little selfish. Were Diane not so kind, she could tell you of my susceptibility to these episodes of self-centered grumpiness. But in my defense, I can honestly say they never last long and are soon overwhelmed by the joy of living each day God has given me. I suppose we’re all rather selfish critters until we step away from ourselves and focus on others and on the Other. The catalyst for this change, at least in extreme cases, often involves coming face to face with tragedy. When tragedy strikes close to us, the minor irritants of our lives become almost meaningless in light of another’s deep suffering.

This past Friday, I got a call from a local funeral director asking if I would conduct a brief service at the funeral home for a young man of 33 who had died just days before. The deceased’s wife would fly in that evening from the northeast with two of her husband’s friends. The funeral director hoped I could conduct the service early Saturday afternoon. My schedule was clear, so I agreed. When I asked for more information about the man, I was told he was involved in telecommunications, and that he and his wife had been married only six months. The couple were both immigrants from Belarus, as were the friends accompanying her. The funeral director then informed me the young man had committed suicide. He had hanged himself. Death at a young age is always tragic and death by suicide doubly so. 

I realized I had to speak with the young widow as soon as possible and was given her cell phone number. I managed to catch her on her way to the airport. She spoke excellent English which is good because my Belarusian is non-existent. We talked for only about 10 minutes because I could tell she was devastated and probably needed time with her friends. But she had told me enough about her husband so I could at least prepare the service and my homily. He was Catholic and she is Orthodox. “A kind and generous man,” she said, but a man also afflicted with addictions that plagued and depressed him. “But he truly loved God,” she added, “and I think he just wanted to escape his problems and be with Him.” 

When I arrived at the funeral home, his body was in an open casket in the chapel. His widow, a lovely young woman, was standing over him, stroking his head and sobbing almost uncontrollably. I approached her and quietly introduced myself. She simply thanked me for agreeing to be there, then hugged me long and hard. It reminded me of the hugs I used to receive from Diane when I returned from a long Navy cruise to the Western Pacific. I think she saw in me, this grandfather-like figure with a deacon’s cross around his neck, a faint connection to God, someone who could make some sense of everything. I could see her husband had been a strapping and handsome young man, and like his two friends, who spoke little English, was no stranger to hard work. As you might imagine, the scene was one of almost inescapable sorrow and I realized I had to inject it with a real sense of hope.

Too many Christians believe suicide is somehow irredeemable, always an insurmountable obstacle to salvation. I have never accepted this, and often argued with those who expressed such a merciless belief. I call it merciless, because it denies both the mercy and justice of our loving God. You and I can never know what lies deep within the heart of another, and to believe otherwise is to assume we possess divine knowledge. Suicide is not a normal response to life’s challenges, and too often is driven by any number of mental instabilities, including addictions. Full consent may not be present when one makes such an agonizing decision, especially when it is made precipitously. Is it sinful? Yes, of course. But so too are many other things you and I do on a daily basis. Divine Mercy cannot be limited by you and me. By trying to do so we turn ourselves into little false gods who actually believe we can know the mind and heart of our one, true God, and then demand He follow our lead when it comes to salvation. I’ve always taken hope knowing that God wills all to be saved. How did St. Paul put it?

“First of all, then, I ask that supplications, prayers, petitions, and thanksgivings be offered for everyone, for kings and all in authority, that we may lead a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity. This is good and pleasing to God our savior, who wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth. For there is one God. There is also one mediator between God and the human race, Christ Jesus, himself human, who gave himself as ransom for all” [1 Tim 2:1-6].

We don't make salvation decisions about others; we let God do that. Far better if you and I simply trust and pray for the souls of those who have gone before us.

Another serious side-effect of suicide is the presence of guilt that can overwhelm the survivors, especially spouses, parents, and even children. As I told this young man’s widow, if you are tempted to dwell on all you could have said or done differently, thinking that you might have prevented this tragedy, don’t go there; it’s not a good place. Such thoughts are never beneficial and only drive you to despair. I really believe Satan is the one who plants these thoughts in grieving hearts. I also told her, "If you should find yourself there, leave." As St. Paul instructed us, offer supplications, prayers, petitions, and thanksgivings. "Pray for the soul of your husband; thank God for the time you had with each other; and pray too for his parents and family in Belarus who are surely grieving with you." We will not know the answers to all of our questions until we are with God in heaven. It is so much better to spend our time here thanking Him. 

I really believe the best antidote for grief, and pain, and hardship is thanksgiving. I know I’ve posted this poem by Joyce Kilmer before, but I think it deserves another reading, especially today. Kilmer wrote it while in the trenches during World War One, not long before he was killed by a German sniper. He was 31 years old.

                Thanksgiving

The roar of the world is in my ears.
Thank God for the roar of the world!
Thank God for the mighty tide of fears
Against me always hurled!

Thank God for the bitter and ceaseless strife,
And the sting of His chastening rod!
Thank God for the stress and the pain of life,
And Oh, thank God for God!

Them Killer Guns

"Civil wars happen when the victimized are armed. Genocide happens when they are not." -- A. E. Samaan

OK, in the spirit of full transparency, I'm a deacon and I also own a few firearms. Nothing weird about that. I know many other brother deacons who enjoy shooting. As for me, I used to engage in occasional target shooting, but really don't have the time now. So, in truth, I clean my firearms every so often, just to keep them operable, but really haven't used them very much in recent years. And like virtually all legal firearm owners, I obey the laws, even unjust, un-Constitutional laws. This, of course, separates law-abiding owners of firearms from gun-toting criminals who, as you might expect, don't really pay attention to laws. 

A while ago, a parishioner, having heard that I owned some firearms, suggested that, "as a man of God, it's immoral for you to own guns." When I suggested that automobiles, knives, baseball bats, and fists also killed a bunch of people every year, some more than guns, he said, "That's different." When I asked why it was different, he had no answer. "It's just not the same," he said. (By the way, every year knives kill far more people than rifles.)

Of course, it's not different. Cars and knives and firearms are simply tools, and there's certainly nothing immoral about owning any or all of them. Sadly, though, this man was the victim of an intentional misinformation campaign that has apparently achieved some of its hoped-for goals. When Americans were polled recently and asked to guess the leading cause of gun-related deaths, the results were interesting. Check it out:

I'll spell out the results since the captions on the graph are rather small. Their guesses:

• 4% - Don't know
• 25% - Mass Shooting
• 33% - Non-Mass Homicide
• 23% - Suicide
• 14% - Unintentional

As you can see from the above, most Americans seem to believe homicides and mass shootings are the leading causes of gun-related deaths, with suicides and unintentional (presumably accidental) coming in third and fourth. 

Now let's look at the actual data from the Center for Disease Control:

•  0.3% - Mass Shooting
• 36.8% - Non-Mass Homicide
• 60.8% - Suicide
• 0.9% - Undetermined
• 1.2% - Unintentional

The CDC, a government agency, keeps track of all causes of death, and their latest data on gun-related deaths (from 2017)  show how misinformed most folks are. I can only assume their ignorance results from a media and uninformed politicians that feed them grossly inaccurate information on firearms. 

Note that the actual leading cause of gun-related deaths -- over 60% -- is suicide. But more striking is the figure for mass shootings: less than 1% as opposed to the 25% result from the poll. 

To read more on the results of this poll, including a demographic breakdown of those participating, click here: Washington Free Beacon.

I've also embedded the following video of Amy Swearer, a legal analyst at the Heritage Foundation. By the way, her statistics are absolutely correct...I checked.

Read what Teddy Roosevelt said over 100 years ago:

"The great body of our citizens shoot less as time goes on. We should encourage rifle practice among schoolboys, and indeed among all classes, as well as in the military services by every means in our power. Thus, and not otherwise, may we be able to assist in preserving peace in the world...The first step -- in the direction of preparation to avert war if possible, and to be fit for war if it should come -- is to teach men to shoot."

Teddy Roosevelt understood that the 2nd Amendment wasn't designed to protect hunters or target shooters, but to protect the people from all enemies, foreign and domestic.

Interestiingly, in 1962 I graduated from a Catholic high school in New York's Westchester County. Our school had a rifle team and a indoor rifle range. I suspect that school no longer has either. Perhaps the range has been replaced with a safe room where students can escape from those ever present microaggressions.

Homily Video: 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)

Yesterday our IT folks gave me the video file of the homily I preached last Saturday evening at our parish's 6 p.m. Vigil Mass. I posted the text of the homily a few days ago here. Now you get to watch the video, assuming this is something you just can't wait to do.

Anyway, I've embedded the video below. My homily addresses the Parable of the Sower as it is related in Matthew's Gospel (Mt 13:1-23)...

Homily: 15 Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)

Readings: Is 55:10-11 • Ps 65 • Rom 8:18-23 • Mt 13:1-23

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Immersed in the Gospel, and supported by our faith, we hear the parables of Jesus and we understand...or, at least, we try to understand.

But that's not always the case, is it? Our receptivity, how open we are to receive God's Word, can vary like the seasons.

Sometimes it pierces the soul to the very marrow, and we experience deep conversion of heart.

But then, perhaps too often, it barely seems to scratch the surface, because we're just not ready for it...at least not yet.

And sometimes, we actively resist it. We reject God's Word because it says things we simply don't want to hear. Yes, it's then that we're much more open to the word of the world...which is strange since the world just offers us one empty promise after another: 

A diamond is forever.

It's the real thing. 

Have it your way.

Just do it.

You're in good hands.

Yes, following the world's advice, we're promised that everything will go well...until we come face to face with eternity. Unlike the word of the world, the Word of God both commands and demands.

Not long ago I came across the website of a consulting group that focuses on helping Christian churches fill the pews. The site includes a teasing little blurb with all kinds of interesting suggestions:

Does your church have sufficient parking?

What's the quality of the music?

Is it a friendly, hospitable church?

...and on and on...although make no mistake, these are all good things.

But after reading the consultants' list of suggestions, I noticed something was missing.

There was little or nothing about proclaiming and living God's Word. The only thing that came close was an admonition to "avoid polarization in your preaching." I'm not sure what that means. Maybe it's just another way of saying, "Don't worry, be happy."

But there was nothing about the grace-giving sacramental life...

Nothing about serving God's people beyond the boundaries of the property...

Nothing about being the "salt of the earth" or "the light of the world."

Imagine how these consultants would have responded to Jesus and the parable of the sower.

Jesus, you've just got to be more focused. See this huge crowd? That Word of yours will turn off most of them.

We've heard you.

"Eat my Body...drink my Blood" [Jn 6:53]

"Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." [Mt 5:44]

"When you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing."  [Mt 6:3]

Those words will just drive most of them away. And that's no way to fill the parking lot or the collection basket.

You'll be lucky to end up with a handful of followers.

You just don't understand the dynamics of church growth.

Of course, Jesus didn't have that kind of expert help, the kind available to us today. And so what did He do? 

He gathered the huge crowd, got into the boat, and sat down like teacher and judge, and told His disciples how to spread the Word...  

He told them a parable about a farmer who isn't very careful at all about the sowing of seed: he just throws it all over the place. Although some actually falls on fertile soil, most of it seems to be wasted.

But that's exactly what Jesus has done since He began His public ministry. Unsparing in His generosity, He teaches, He forgives, He heals, He reaches out to all who come to Him, even to those who don't. He has a special love for public sinners, for the poor, for society's misfits and rejects - not the sort who give large contributions.

Jesus, you see, is the Word, the Incarnate Word of God, and so He teaches, and heals, and forgives through His Word and His Work.

He calls for more than simple obedience to the law. He calls for conversion, a change of heart and mind in his hearers. But too many resist His appeal because their hearts are as hard as the rocky ground on which some of that seed fell...or as tangled and suffocating as the briars that choked God's Word before it could grow.

Why? Jesus says they lack understanding. What is this understanding? Brothers and sisters, it's an act of faith, a response to Jesus' call. For their hearts to be opened, they must respond. Without it, they'll just be like so many Christians today who seem to welcome the Gospel but then crumble once they're tested, once they're actually called to live it. Only this understanding, this act of faith, frees us from the allure of the word of the world.

Jesus isn't surprised by their lack of faith. They're the same hardened hearts with which Isaiah had to contend when He spread the seed of God's word.

And Jesus promises us that God is not defeated because, like the farmer, He's a bit of a gambler.

When the farmer bets everything he has...and the outcome isn't guaranteed...well, he’s gambling big time. The higher the stakes, the harder he works. Not just to control the weeds, but to control the every single variable he can. He does so to control the risks.

Consider the extreme and improbable risks that God takes by planting his Word in our hostile world. What are the chances the Word of God will take root and yield a good harvest?

Just try talking love or compassion to a terrorist...or forgiveness to the family of a murder victim.

What about the notion of truth in the midst of a heated political campaign?

How about the command, "Sell what you have and give  to the poor"? [Mt 19:21]  Have you ever seen it in a brochure pushing real estate or financial planning?

How often do the words "praise" and "gratitude" play on the minds of those busily adjusting the parameters of their spreadsheets?

And does the scientist ever realize she's bowing in reverence to the Creator of the universe whenever she leans over the microscope to study the wonders of cellular regeneration?

What are the chances?

You and I might think the chances of the Word of God germinating in a fallen world are mighty slim. But, as it turns out, God is a gambler of the most reckless sort. As the poetry of Isaiah reveals, the Word of God swiftly runs upon the earth and doesn't return to the heavens void!

Day after day, in the face of incredible odds, Jesus hurls out the seed of the Word like a gambler throwing dice. It appears reckless...but faith takes root. Isaiah was confident. Jesus claimed it was a sure thing. God's Word yields its harvest.

In arid hearts that thirst for God, the understanding, the seeds of faith...will take root, "and yield a hundred or sixty or thirty fold" [Mt 13:8]

How's that for a reckless, over-the-top response?

No, God doesn't hesitate. But what about us? What about you and me? What's our response to His Word?

You see, God expects us, His disciples, to join Him in this work of sowing. But too often we're so wrapped up in ourselves, in our needs and wants, we don't realize the impact we can have. Too often we fall into the trap of thinking we must do big things to get God's attention, when exactly the opposite is true.

Indeed, each time you open your Bible, or take time to pray together, or carry God's love to another, or gather together at Mass, or feed the hungry, or visit the sick or imprisoned, more seeds are scattered, more risks are taken!

You see, it's these seemingly little things that plant the seed of God's Word in the world.

Yesterday morning I read a journal article by a psychiatrist who's been studying the growing plague of suicide in our nation, particularly among the young. He concluded the article with these words:

"A few years ago, a man in his thirties took his own life by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge (as more than 1,500 other people have done since the bridge was built). After his death, his psychiatrist went with the medical examiner to the man's apartment where they found his diary. The last entry, written just hours before he died, said, "I'm going to walk to the bridge. If one person smiles at me on the way, I will not jump." [First Things]

I wonder how many Christians, people like you and me, he encountered on that short walk.

Brothers and sisters, sometimes one tiny spot of fertile soil awaits the arrival of a single life-giving seed.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever.

Europe's Suicidal Option for Sterility

We normally think of historians as those who look to the past and chronicle human history. Historians examine events and people, identify the most influential, and strive to help us understand better both past and present. Some do this well and others not so well. Many are overly influenced by ideology and other biases, while a few actually search for the truth. Of course, to search for the truth one must first believe that truth exists, something most progressive relativists, historians included, cannot accept. And yet the very best historians, and they are indeed a rare breed, are often prophetic in that, based on their understanding of history's truths, they offer us realistic insights into what the future holds. 

I certainly have my favorite historians, and among these I include Lord Acton, Christopher Dawson, Henri Pirenne, Arnold Toynbee and Eric Voegelin. I'll also add G. K. Chesterton to my short list, even though he considered himself a journalist and not an historian. I suppose, though,  good journalists are historians of sorts in that they chronicle the recent past. This, of course, was exactly what Chesterton did, and in doing so he shared many prophetic insights with his readers.

George Weigel

I'm not really sure why my thoughts turned to historians, but it guess it began this morning after reading a brief essay by George Weigel, an intellectual who, like Chesterton, probably doesn't consider himself an historian. A Catholic theologian, biographer of St. John Paul II, and all-around commentator on the meeting and separation of the religious and the secular in the modern world, Weigel included some surprising truths in his essay, Catholic Lite and Europe's Demographic Suicide (published online on the First Things website). 

Addressing what can be seen only as a war on children, Weigel focuses on the demographics of the once-Christian population of Europe, a population that is quickly disappearing. Interestingly, Weigel implies that Europe's political leadership -- and much of its relgious leadership -- is fully aware of the situation but really doesn't seem to care. He mentions a conversation he had a decade ago with a member of the Brussels-based European Parliament in which the Italian politician said,  “Look, we know we’re finished. We’re trying to arrange things so that we can die comfortably in our beds. Don’t you Yanks come over here and start stirring things up.” 

One can only wonder what motivates a politician to prefer personal comfort and societal suicide to his responsibility to preserve and protect the society he supposedly serves. The most obvious answer is a degree of selfishness taken to the extreme, of the sort that can only have a demonic source. Political correctness is, of course, tailor-made for the promulgation of such an attitude. Once a society decides that speaking the truth is not only unacceptable, but also punishable, the lie -- any lie that fits -- becomes the "new truth." Sadly, Europe has already reached this point in its decline. 

Europe's sterility is epitomized by another remarkable fact pointed out by Weigel: "...the prime ministers or presidents of Europe’s largest economies — and of all the European members of that exclusive global club, the G7 — are without children..." Good heavens! Just consider the example these childless leaders set for their constituents.

(Of course the one growing segment of Europe's population is the Muslim segment. Even if some of this segment consider their children expendable and fitting candidates for suicide bombings, the majority apparently see their children as their future.)

Weigel goes on to place much of the blame for Europe's suicidal option for sterility on the so-called Catholic Lite accommodation to secular values, what he rightly considers a "colossal evangelical failure." Much of the Church's leadership, particularly in Germany and the Low Countries, have been virtually silent in the face of European society's widespread acceptance of contraception, abortion, assisted suicide, and euthanasia. Given the seriousness of Our Lord's warning in Matthew's Gospel, I suspect personal weakness and fear of persecution are not acceptable excuses:

"Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. Woe to the world because of things that cause sin! Such things must come, but woe to the one through whom they come!" [Mt 18:6-7]

George Weigel is always worth reading and if this subject interests you, I suggest picking up a copy of his little book on Europe, America and the Church: The Cube and the Cathedral.