Hello Again...Pardon My Confession

"Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer." (Rom 12:12)

It's been a while since I've posted anything...almost two months. My excuse? Diane and I were in Italy helping to lead a parish Jubilee Year pilgrimage during late January, and since then have been quite ill trying to recover from a nasty virus. We were actually sick before the trip, but had recovered (we thought) and had been given an OK for travel by our respective docs. Anyway, we're healthy once again and trust we will remain so, at least for a while.

If you know me at all, you'll realize how grumpy I can be whenever I'm ill. And this time around was no exception. Most often I turn to God and, forgetting everything I preach to others, grumble about why He has allowed me to get so ill. Then I inevitably get a little sanctimonious and remind the Lord that by confining me at home He's keeping me from doing His work in my tiny corner of the world: "Don't you understand how much I do for You?" (It's amazing how often we think and say such foolish things to God.) As a confessor told me years ago: "Being a sinner is a fulltime job."

This attitude usually rules for only a few days until I realize that by putting myself at the center of everything, I'm separating myself from reality. Yes, indeed, it's hard to be humble when you're always focused on yourself. Humility, of course, is simply reality, the true understanding of who we are in relation to God and others.

So, eventually, as always (I'm a notoriously slow learner), I began to accept God's will, even though I didn't understand it. And that's when His blessings and His gifts became evident. I realized first that I had become somewhat overwhelmed in my ministries. I used to say "burned out" but that always led me to feel sorry for myself. Truthfully, though, at 80 perhaps I need to slow down a bit and focus my remaining energy on how I can best serve God and His people. Once again, this demands a hefty dose of humility, a willingness to let the Lord take the lead and point me in the right direction. So often He calls us to our weaknesses, not to what we believe are our strengths -- another hard call to humility. The antidote? Prayer, prayer, and more prayer -- listening prayer -- and an openness to God's working through others to show us His will.  

Another blessing was a related and treatable eye infection that I might well have picked up on one of the flights to and from Italy. As a doctor friend once remarked: "Airplanes are perhaps the perfect Petrie dish for the cultivation and transmission of all kinds of nasty bugs." The infection made it difficult to read and use the PC. (I'm not a touch-typist, but hunt and peck at high speed.) So I actually had time to think and pray more than usual. This, then was another of God's unexpected gifts since it led me to thankfulness, quite a change from my earlier grumbling.

Diane and I also grew closer to each other as we flip-flopped in our roles as caregiver and care receiver, depending on who happened to be worse off on any given day. As you might have guessed, I tend to be the neediest, but Diane never complained and took wonderful care of me. I tried to do the same. After 56 years of marriage, we still find new ways to love each other. Diane's well-being is something else I must consider as I examine my way forward in the diaconate. Our mutual needs are more important. After all, those matrimonial promises and vows were made 30 years before holy orders.

I could go on, but there's no need. God is the great Teacher, always leading us to a deeper love for Him and each other. Some of us have to be retaught again and again, but His patience knows no limit and He continues to find new ways to help us grow in holiness.

God's peace, sisters and brothers...

Another Kilmer Poem - for Memorial Day

A few days ago I included Thanksgiving, a little poem by Joyce Kilmer, in another of my posts. It’s one of those poems that challenges us to rethink our understanding of the events and influences that can dominate the times of our lives. It also asks us to accept that nothing is simply coincidental, that God can bring good out of everything, even that which from an objective, human perspective can seem downright evil. I’ve always believed that as he wrote Thanksgiving, Kilmer might well have been thinking of St. Paul’s famous words to the Romans:

“We know that in everything God works for good with those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose” [Rom 8:28].

Kilmer certainly believed this, and realized God is always in control despite our foolish attempts to subvert His plan for humanity. Everything is a gift for those who love the Lord, even though we don’t understand how God will bring good from it. Believing this, we must then thank God for everything. 

The poet was also “called according to His purpose” in both his life and his death. Perhaps most fittingly, Kilmer wrote this poem from the trenches of World War One. Immersed in the chaotic horror of that war, Sergeant Kilmer faced death and destruction daily. He was highly respected by both the troops and the officers of his battalion. Sadly, Kilmer died in that war, killed instantly by a German sniper on July 30,1918. And yet, although an enlisted man, he was buried next to the officers with whom he served, a most unusual honor in those days. But in truth it was more of an honor for the officers than for Kilmer.

Anyway, all this thinking and writing about Joyce Kilmer, brought to mind another of his brief poems that I read years ago. I’d forgotten the name of the poem, so I had to do a little searching, and finally found it. I had mistakenly remembered its title as “Princes,” but it turned out to be “Kings.” I thought it particularly relevant for our world today, especially Kilmer’s description of the perversion of power. Yes, indeed, the “Kings of the earth” will be so very surprised when in their powerlessness they are called to account by the Prince of Peace. Here’s the poem:

                       Kings

The Kings of the earth are men of might,

And cities are burned for their delight,

And the skies rain death in the silent night,

And the hills belch death all day!

But the King of Heaven, Who made them all,

Is fair and gentle, and very small;

He lies in the straw, by the oxen's stall -- 

Let them think of Him to-day!

It’s evident why so many critics disliked Kilmer. He was simply too simple. He wrote for everyone, unlike so many poets who wrote only for each other and for the literati who could get them published in all the right journals. Kilmer also didn’t disguise his Christianity which he displayed prominently in so much of his work. No doubt this was a major irritant to the faithless denizens of New York’s literary circles. 

Of course, as simple as I am, I’ve always enjoyed his poetry. Some of this appreciation for Kilmer might stem from a few rather vague connections. I was brought up in Larchmont, a suburb of New York City, a village where Kilmer also lived for a time. Of course, he died long before I was born, and 30 years before we moved to Larchmont, but we were both parishioners of St. Augustine Parish. Because of this parish connection, he was somewhat of a local celebrity and the Dominican sisters who taught in the parish school introduced us to his poetry early, in the fifth or sixth grade. My parents were also friends with an older woman, who had known Kilmer as a young man. Apparently, her family had lived next door to Kilmer. She spoke about him often and waxed eloquently about the “handsome, young poet.” So, I suppose I was primed to like him and his work, but I think that’s true of most of our earliest influences. 

Today though, on this Memorial Day, we can pray that the "Kings of the earth" will someday actually approach the Prince of Peace on their knees in repentance. But in the meantime, I am called to remember and thank God for so many of my friends and comrades who sacrificed their lives for you and for me and for generations to come. Because of my own involvement, I especially thank God for those who died during the Vietnam conflict. But I also thank God for those who died in so many other conflicts, including Sergeant Joyce Kilmer, another hero who served a nation and its people and selflessly sacrificed his life for us. 

May Almighty God bless them all and keep them.

May His face shine upon them and be gracious to them.

May He look upon them with kindness and give them peace.

May Almighty God bless them, 

   in the name of the Father,

   and of the Son,

   and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Grief and Thanksgiving

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

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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!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Take some time today to thank God in prayer for all He has done for you and for those you love. God never stops loving and He continues to move His eternal plan forward. And because you and I each have a role to play in God’s plan, we should all understand how important we are to Him. Be open to God’s Word and His call to love and serve Him and all those He puts in your life. 

Thanksgiving, then, should be a joyful time and there are few better manifestations of that joy than the hymn of Psalm 100:

A Psalm for the thank offering. 

Make a joyful noise to the LORD, all the lands!
Serve the LORD with gladness! 
Come into his presence with singing! 

Know that the LORD is God! 
It is he that made us, and we are his;
we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. 

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,

and his courts with praise!

Give thanks to him, bless his name! 

For the LORD is good;
his steadfast love endures for ever,

and his faithfulness to all generations. 

Amen!

Reflection: Divine Mercy Novena - Day 6

 At this time of year, our parish prays the Divine Mercy Novena, led by our deacons and ably aided by our wonderful musicians. I was asked to lead Day 6 and Day 9, and so today I led the first of these. I usually begin with a brief reflection on some aspect of Divine Mercy as revealed to us in St. Faustina's Diary. Here's the text of my reflection:

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Welcome to day 6 of our Divine Mercy Novena.

A few weeks ago, a parishioner came up to me after Mass. He'd just seen an announcement about this Divine Mercy Novena and remarked that Divine Mercy didn't seem to mix well with pandemics and wars.

As you might expect, I vehemently disagreed and suggested that God's mercy and our extension of it was exactly what our world needed. I realize it's been a difficult few years and we're all in a bit of a funk, and not just because of masks, vaccinations, testing, family separation, and all the rest. Far more painful has been the loss of many friends and loved ones. I know I miss them all and the older I get the more frequent these losses. But we take hope in the promise that, soon enough, we'll be with them again.  Yes, indeed, life and death continue, as does God’s love for His people. This, too, sometimes escapes us when we’re affected by grief.

Now, in the midst of the Easter season, we are also reminded of God’s great gift to the world: His Divine Mercy. The other day, reading a few pages of St. Faustina’s Diary, I came across these words of Jesus:

“You are to show mercy to your neighbors always and everywhere. You must not shrink from this or try to absolve yourself from it" [Diary, 742].

Meditating on this command from Jesus, I couldn't help but recollect all those times when I have been less than merciful, those times when I looked the other way rather than confronting another's need head-on. Sadly, there were far too many instances, too many to count.

There's nothing new about this command; indeed, if it were new, we would have every right to suspect the validity of the visions and private revelations experienced by St. Faustina. True private revelation can do nothing but confirm and reinforce divine revelation as found in sacred scripture and apostolic tradition.

And, of course, this same plea to mercy is stated explicitly in the Gospel:

"Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy" [Mt 5:7].

When Matthew describes Jesus’ depiction of the final judgment, we will all experience [Mt 25:31-46], we encounter a judgment focused on the mercy we have extended to each other. As I reflected on Jesus' command, and on my own failure to obey it fully, I realized how grateful I am that we have a merciful God, who willingly forgives and forgets the sins of the repentant.

In other words, our personal failure to extend mercy to others can be overcome by God's infinite mercy when we come to Him in true repentance and a willingness to change, to undergo conversion. Without this gift of mercy and forgiveness none of us would be saved.

Today, as we pray together at the foot of the Cross, when we look up at our crucified Lord, do we tear open our very being? Listen to the prophet Joel, who revealed God’s will:

“Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the Lord, your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and relenting in punishment.” [Joel 2:13]

Do we rend our hearts exposing all to God’s merciful gaze?

Do we come to Him, ready to die to self and sin?

Praying the chaplet on this 6^th day of our novena, can we abandon ourselves to His Divine Mercy?

Joyce Kilmer, the Catholic poet, another of my favorites, was struck down by a sniper's bullet during World War One. But in the midst of his wartime experience, surrounded by the destruction and devastation and death in the trenches, he wrote a little poem called "Thanksgiving." 

     The roar of the world 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!

Brothers and sisters, that's exactly what we must do: just thank God for everything.

Thank God for the joys and the pains of our lives.

How did St. Paul put it?

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

It’s all a gift, even when it's beyond our understanding.

Yes, thank God for His mercy which makes life itself livable. 

 

Homily: 2nd Sunday of Lent - Year B

 Readings: Gn 22:1-2,9-13,15-18;Ps 116; Rom 8:31-34; Mk 9:2-10

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Not long ago I thought my wife’s hearing might not be what it used to be, so I decided to conduct a little test. I stood some distance behind her and said softly, “Diane, can you hear me.” Getting no answer, I moved closer and again asked, “Diane, can you hear me?” Again having received no answer, I moved right up behind her and said softly, “Diane, can you hear me?” And that’s when I finally heard her say, “For the third time, Yes!”

Well, that’s pretty much how you and I communicate with God. We’re so intent on making sure He’s listening to us, that He doesn’t miss all those needs and wants we’re always placing before Him, that we neglect the more important task: We fail to listen to Him. We forget, or simply can’t believe, that God hears our every prayer, that He knows our every need. Not only does God hear us, but He also speaks to us…and He does so definitively.

We need only listen, listen as the Father commanded us. That’s right, twice in the gospels the Father speaks aloud regarding Jesus. At Jesus’ Baptism the Father said:

This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.

As Jesus begins His ministry that culminates in His death and resurrection, and in our salvation, we learn that the Father sent Him to become one of us; that He is Emmanuel, God with us. Yes, the Father states unequivocally, that He is well pleased with His Son: this Jesus, My Son, has met all My demands for holiness, for righteousness, for goodness. What greater statement could God have made about His Son?

And then, in today’s Gospel passage, the Father again speaks aloud:

This is my beloved Son; listen to him.

With these words we are given our primary responsibility as disciples of Jesus.

Listen to Him.

It’s a simple message, for God never complicates, He always simplifies. Simple but profound, God’s message isn’t obscured by some long to-do list of responsibilities and behavioral expectations; rather, it consists of one, simple command, “Listen to him.” For this is the essence of discipleship, and it hasn’t changed since the days of Abraham.

I can remember as a child -- I think I was about seven years old -- being fascinated by our family Bible. Every week my father would open it up, read aloud whatever passage happened to interest him that day, and then discuss it with us. To be honest, I was probably more interested in the remarkable illustrations in our Bible.

One in particular both fascinated and terrified me. It was a brilliantly clear picture of an old man forcibly holding the body of a young boy against a stone altar. Even more disturbing was the large knife in the man’s hand, a knife pointed straight at the boy. That painting, by Caravaggio, was my introduction to Abraham and Isaac, and the caption beneath it consisted of a single word: “Ready!”

I remember thinking, ready for what? And so I asked my father, and he said, “Ready to sacrifice his son.” Well, that certainly didn’t help; nor was it very reassuring. I asked more questions and received more puzzling answers that pretty much boiled down to: “Because God asked Abraham to do it, and because Abraham loved God.”

It was all very confusing. I also found myself looking at my father a little differently, wondering if God might ask him to do what He’d asked Abraham. Eventually, though, I came to realize that Abraham and Isaac were a kind of special case.

God might not test us as He tested Abraham, but He still wanted us to listen, to obey, to be ready. Yes, Abraham loved and trusted God so deeply, He believed in God so faithfully, that he was ready to do whatever God asked of him. And God, seeing Abraham’s readiness, provided the ram to be sacrificed in place of Isaac. Years later, I learned that this readiness to do God’s will is the mark of the true disciple.

Brothers and sisters, in today’s Gospel passage, they apostles are generations away from Abraham, on another mountain where they encounter another who is ready. Peter, James and John follow their Master up its slopes, separating themselves from the world.

On that mountaintop Jesus gives them a glimpse of what is to come, a glimpse of the promise they don’t yet understand, a glimpse of God, of eternity – and they see it all through Jesus. Standing in His glory with Moses and Elijah, Jesus is fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets.

There was no caption explaining that scene for the apostles, but maybe Peter was starting to get the picture. Maybe deep down he’d come to realize another Biblical sacrifice was about to be offered. Like Isaac, another Son would carry his own wood of sacrifice up yet another hill.

Unable to grasp this fully, Peter is overwhelmed by the moment: Let’s build tents and just stay here forever. It’s so good to be here. But to be content with the present is not a statement of readiness, is it? It’s a statement of complacency. And complacency isn’t the mark of the disciple.

To help Peter and the others understand this, God speaks, and Peter hears the voice of God, the voice that causes a healthy fear:

This is my beloved Son – listen.

In this Lenten season, as we page through our history as a people…as we are presented each week with the stories of God’s faithfulness…as we picture the scenes and try to understand the captions God writes beneath them…as we do all these things, let’s remember what we’re called to do: to listen and to be ready to act.

Will we listen to Jesus as he speaks to us in so many ways: through the Gospel; through the Church; through each other?

But are we ready, ready to act, ready to sacrifice? We’re asked to make only one sacrifice: total dedication to God – to be ready to serve Him always.

Ready to listen and respond to His call.

Ready to put sin behind us.

Ready to name grace when we see it.

Ready to love the unloved.

Ready to defend Christ and His Church in the public square.

Ready to challenge the world when it turns its back on Christ, when it embraces not life but death.

Here lies the very essence of our Christian spirituality: having hearts and minds spiritually tuned to hear what God is telling us. These days of Lent should be our listening time.

Days begun with a moment of quietness, a moment when we pray young Samuel’s simple prayer: Speak Lord, your servant is listening.

Days when we look for God and His message in life’s simple experiences and our encounters with others.

Days that end with a moment of thanksgiving.

Do we thank God for the love that gave us our very being?

Do we thank Him for the sacrifice that promises us eternal life?

Do we thank Him for each other?

Brothers and sisters, the Father who spared Isaac’s life, spared nothing in sacrificing His own Son.

You and I are asked to do no less. But are we ready?

 

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!

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #20: Evangelization

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

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

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

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

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

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

For You, Abba, are my Father. Amen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #8: Prayer in the Psalms

Note: This reflection was originally written on June 20. I simply neglected to post it here on the blog. I trust you will find it of some value in your prayer life.
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Once again, I offer another reflection, one I hope will help us – and I include myself as well – get through these challenging times. As always, we ask the Holy Spirit to be with us, to guide and inspire us. That’s important because without the Holy Spirit, we can do little indeed. 

Today we’re going to look at prayer, the Spirit of prayer, especially as it’s found in Sacred Scripture, remembering that it’s only through the Holy Spirit that we can “pray as we ought” [Rom 8:26].

I’ll begin by saying I’m not an expert on prayer. Indeed, my own prayer life, my own time with God, is sometimes pretty messy. I think of all the fits and starts, the spiritual dead-ends, the dryness, the challenges – and all of it so often focused more on myself than on God. How, then, can I talk with you about prayer when my own prayer life falls so short of the mark set by the saints? Well, I actually prayed about this and decided that maybe the Holy Spirit wanted me to share those problems with you too. Maybe He knows how these same things trouble your prayer life, and that you’re not alone. Fortunately, the Holy Spirit’s a lot smarter than you and me. And as Luke tells us, Our Lord Himself promised His disciples:

“…the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought to say” [Lk 12:12].

So, let’s just agree that the Holy Spirit is the source of any good resulting from this reflection, and that all the not-so-goods come only from me. With that we can press on and open ourselves to the movement of the Spirit.

Here we are, in the middle of Ordinary Time. Lent and Easter are behind us, and Advent and Christmas still far ahead of us, so perhaps this might be a good time to reflect on how we’re doing. The Church, of course, knows that Ordinary Time can sometimes seem...well, so very ordinary. And so, during this quieter liturgical time, it repeats many of the Lenten readings. It wants us to know that prayer and fasting and almsgiving aren’t just Lenten practices…no they’re Christian practices, and should be an active part of our ongoing, daily spiritual lives. The practices of Lent, for example, should result in permanent change; they should bring about our continued spiritual growth. 

Too many of us, though, tend to spend much of our lives drifting to and from God, as if our spirituality is a kind of seasonal thing, not realizing that God wants constant spiritual movement toward Him. Yes, He wants us to do extraordinary things even in Ordinary Time, and it’s all wrapped up in God’s call to love Him and each other. How did St. Paul put it?

"If I speak in human and angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal" [1 Cor 13:1].

Wow! …So, our prayer and all we do mean little if they’re not grounded in love. Let me read something else Paul wrote, in his 2nd Letter to the Thessalonians:

“We are bound to give thanks to God always for you, brethren, as is fitting, because your faith is growing abundantly, and the love of every one of you for one another is increasing”  [2 Thes 1:3].

Now, out of all the verses in the New Testament, why do you think I chose this one? It was the words: “…because your faith is growing abundantly.” It’s all about growth, isn’t it? It’s all about growth in faith, growth in prayer, and growth in love. In other words, it’s about growth in holiness. But how do we measure it?

In the Night Prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours there’s a point at which we are asked to make an examination of conscience, to review the day and our place in it. It’s a wonderful habit to develop and practice. Just take a few moments at the end of each day to call on the Holy Spirit, asking Him to remind us of how we journeyed through the day – what we have thought, and said, and done. It’s a prayer in which we place ourselves at the feet of Jesus and lay bare our soul in repentance and thanksgiving.

What did I do today to advance God’s Kingdom on earth?

Was I a willing ambassador for Christ in my interaction with others?

Did I see the presence of Jesus in all who crossed my path today? 

Did I submerge my own needs and wants and focus instead on helping them?

What I said and did today – did it lead people to salvation or turn them away?

How will I do things differently tomorrow?

Honest answers to these and other questions help us focus on our spiritual growth. The direction we’re heading becomes either painfully or gratefully obvious. We can then ask the Holy Spirit to show us the best path to spiritual growth and let Him lead us. 

Maybe this would be a good time to pause for a moment, turn to the Holy Spirit, and reflect on our personal growth in holiness. Like St. Paul, let’s set high expectations for our growth in holiness, and continually thank God for the grace He mercifully provides.

Holy Spirit, clear my mind of everything but Your love for me and my love for You. And in that love place before me that which You call me to do, that which will help me grow in holiness.

A few years ago, in a course for catechists and Catholic school teachers, I asked the participants write down an answer to this question: “When, outside of Mass, do you most often pray?” 

The most common answer? When I ask for God’s help in times of trouble or in solving some problem; in other words, Prayers of Petition.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with asking God for something, so long as it’s not something bad for us. But if that represents the full extent of our prayer life, we really don’t have much of a prayer life at all. 

Jesus and the Apostles Singing a Psalm

So, let’s look at prayer in many of its forms by turning to the Bible. Interestingly, virtually every form of prayer can be found in the Bible’s own book of prayer, the book we call the Book of Psalms. In each of the following I have offered only a single example of each type of prayer, in most instances just a single verse. But the Book of Psalms is filled with prayers and I recommend reading and praying with this wonderful book daily. 

Prayers of Petition – God works wonders for those He loves:

“Know that the LORD works wonders for his faithful one; the LORD hears when I call out to him” [Ps 4:4].

Prayers of Adoration, Praise, Blessing – We bless and praise God, not just once in a while, but always:

“I will bless the LORD at all times; his praise shall be always in my mouth” [Ps 34:2].

Prayers of Thanksgiving – We offer God an endless proclamation of Thanksgiving for all that we have, even our very being:

“Give thanks to the LORD for he is good, his mercy endures forever!” [Ps 107:1]

Prayers of Longing and Yearning – We yearn for God just as the deer yearns for the running waters of a stream:

“As the deer longs for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God.  My soul thirsts for God, the living God. When can I enter and see the face of God?” [Ps 42:2-3] 

Prayerful Suffering – We express our sorrows, our pains in the light of God’s will, and unload our burdens on Him:

“Listen, God, to my prayer; do not hide from my pleading; hear me and give answer. I rock with grief; I groan… My heart pounds within me; death’s terrors fall upon me. Fear and trembling overwhelm me; shuddering sweeps over me” [Ps 55:2-3,5-6].

Prayers of Repentance – In a spirit of conversion we renounce our sin, express sorrow, and return to the Father, the only one who can heal us:

“Have mercy on me, God, in accord with your merciful love; in your abundant compassion blot out my transgressions. Thoroughly wash away my guilt; and from my sin cleanse me. For I know my transgressions; my sin is always before me” [Ps 51:3-5].

Prayers of Marvel and Wonder – Ps 104:1-35 – We marvel at the glories of God’s creation and celebrate with joy all that He has done:

"Bless the LORD, my soul! LORD, my God, you are great indeed! You are clothed with majesty and splendor, robed in light as with a cloak. You spread out the heavens like a tent; setting the beams of your chambers upon the waters. You make the clouds your chariot; traveling on the wings of the wind. You make the winds your messengers; flaming fire, your ministers" [Ps 104:1-4]. 

Meditative Prayer – The very first two verses of the Book of Psalms are designed to lead us to meditative prayer:

“Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night.” [Ps 1:1-2]

In the same way, Luke offers us the example of our Blessed Mother: 

“…Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart” [Lk 2:19]

Contemplative Prayer – Loving contemplative immersion – Christ-centered contemplative prayer is a divine gift, a gift of growth in mental prayer, given when we are ready, not before. Through loving contemplative prayer, we “Taste and see that the LORD is good” [Ps 34:9]. In other words, we experience for ourselves the very goodness of God.

Both St. Peter and St. Paul tell us that when we pray so deeply, words are not only unnecessary but unable to describe what takes place. Here's how St. Paul described it to the Romans:

“…the Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings” [Rom 8:26].

Prayers of Delight and Joy – We delight in the Lord, in His goodness and His works, and take joy in His love for us:

“I will praise you, LORD, with all my heart; I will declare all your wondrous deeds. I will delight and rejoice in you; I will sing hymns to your name, Most High” [Ps 9:2-3].

Prayer in Song (Hymns) – Most of the psalms were written as poetic hymns; they were the songs of a people to their Beloved. This is why the Church has given music such a key role in her liturgy, particularly when it comes to the Psalms:

“Give thanks to the LORD, invoke his name; make known among the peoples his deeds! Sing praise to him, play music; proclaim all his wondrous deeds! Glory in his holy name; let hearts that seek the LORD rejoice!” [Ps 105:1-3]

Indeed, the last thing Jesus and the apostles did at the Last Supper before going to the Garden was sing:

“And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives” [Mt 25:30].

Jesus and the Apostles had just completed the Passover Meal, which traditionally was concluded with the singing of Thanksgiving Psalms; e.g., Ps 114-118. 

Prayer of Amen – The prayerful affirmation of God’s will in all things. Here we say “Yes!” to God and for all that He does – just as Mary said “Yes” to the archangel Gabriel and Jesus said “Yes” to the Father in the Garden. St. Paul’s famous instruction to the Romans is, in a sense, a trusting “Amen!” to our God:

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

Consider, too, the Great Amen we sing at Mass in response to the Final Doxology prayed by the priest: 

"Through him, and with him, and in him, O God, almighty Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, for ever and ever…AMEN"

The word “doxology” literally means to speak of glory, to openly praise God’s glory. And so, we shout, “Amen!”, as an affirmation of our complete Faith in God’s goodness.

Liturgical prayer is the prayer of the Church – the Mass, other sacramental prayer, the Liturgy of the Hours, and other liturgical rites. It is the Church’s prayerful communal worship, the ecclesial prayer that the Lord Himself established. And not surprisingly our liturgies are filled with prayers from the Book of Psalms. 

That’s quite a list of prayer forms, isn’t it? And so, don’t hesitate to turn to the Psalms in prayer when you need some inspiration and guidance from the Holy Spirit. Keep in mind that He inspired David and all the other authors of these sacred hymns – living proof that He understands our needs even better than we understand them ourselves. 

Perhaps I’ll expand on the subject of prayer in our next reflection.

God’s peace.