The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Showing posts with label fire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fire. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 19, 2025

Homily: 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)

Readings: Jer 38:4-6,8-10; Ps 40; Heb 12:1-4, 8-19; Lk 12:49-53

As a deacon and an old, retired Navy Captain, I’m often asked to conduct committal services at the National Cemetery in Bushnell. It’s a wonderful opportunity to minister to our veterans, their spouses, and their families…always a true honor.

Often, as I conduct a committal service, I’ll turn to chapter 12 of the Letter to the Hebrews, from which we receive today’s second reading. The chapter begins with the author telling us:

“We are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses.”

This “cloud of witnesses” refers to the saints of the Old Covenant who paved the way for its fulfillment in the Incarnation of Jesus Christ. But there at the national cemetery I point to the graves of a different cloud of witnesses, the men and women who served our country faithfully and honorably in times of war and peace. Yes, indeed, “so great a cloud of witnesses,” that call us back to too many wars and conflicts.

Today’s readings, for example, brought Winston Churchill to mind. Sorry, but that’s the way my aging mind works. Things enter it unbidden. Anyway, in May of 1940, as the new Prime Minister of the UK, Churchill delivered his first speech to the House of Commons. An electrifying speech, it united the nation behind his leadership as it waged war against an evil, yet strong and determined, Nazi Germany, a speech in which Churchill uttered perhaps his most famous words:

"I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat. We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering."

These weren’t comforting words, but they were necessary words, harsh, motivating words – words of truth that, despite the metaphors, told it like it is.

We encounter something similar in our first reading. The prophet Jeremiah foretells the hard truth about the upcoming victory of the Chaldeans, the taking of Jerusalem, and the long captivity in Babylon. Many in Judah didn’t want to hear all this bad news – so harsh and blunt – so they try to kill God’s prophet, foolishly thinking that will change God’s Word.

In our Gospel passage, Luke proclaims Jesus’ Word. It, too, seems harsh, so harsh that some, even today, resist it, and come away puzzled.

How can Jesus, the Prince of Peace, tell us that He has come “not to establish peace on the earth…but rather division”? That’s not all. He also says He will be the cause of this division, He has “come to set the earth on fire.” Then He adds those remarkable words: “And how I wish it were already blazing.”

These are indeed harsh words, the kind of words many Christians try to ignore, thinking that maybe Jesus was just having a bad day. He really didn’t mean it. Did He?

Churchill was acceptable to his countrymen so long as he was waging war. Once the war ended, he was tossed out of office. For some Christians, and for too many others,  Jesus is acceptable only when He speaks of peace and love and forgiveness. They want their Kumbaya Jesus; but, in truth, Jesus meant everything He said.

Too often we see and hear only the Jesus we’d like Him to be, and ignore the real Jesus, forgetting that the God of truth and fire also speaks to us.

Remember last Sunday’s Gospel, how Jesus reminded us of the demands of discipleship?

"Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more" [Lk 12:48}.

These, too, were not easy words for us, indeed, for all Christians who are entrusted with so much. Today’s Gospel words are no different; but let’s look at them more closely, in the context of Jesus’ total teaching, and see what He’s really telling us. The first thing He says:

“I have come to bring fire to the earth.”

Does He speak of the fire of war and destruction? Well, we can’t deny war and destruction; it surrounds us today and plagues our world. And God certainly lets it happen.

But here Jesus is talking about something else. Here He speaks of a fire that cleanses and purifies, the fire of God’s light, the fire of God’s truth, the fire of God’s Holy Presence among us.

It’s the fire Moses encountered when he approached the burning bush on Mount Horeb. This fire that didn’t consume called Moses to discipleship and holiness; it’s a fire that forms and reforms us even today.

It’s also the pillar of fire that led God’s People out of slavery and through the desert on their journey to freedom, to the Land promised by the Father. It’s a fire that calls us and leads us to Him.

It’s the righteous, sacrificial fire the prophet Elijah called down on the altar of God at Mt. Carmel – a fire in which all present saw the greatness of the God of Israel, and the emptiness, the nothingness of the world’s false gods.

It’s the fire of the burning ember that touched Isaiah’s lips and removed his wickedness and purged the prophet’s sin so he could proclaim God’s Word to His people.

In every instance, it’s the unquenchable fire of the Holy Spirit, the same Holy Spirit who appeared as tongues of fire that inspired Mary and the first disciples as they prayed together in the upper room.

Yes, indeed, Jesus calls for fire, a fire of purification.

It’s a fire of a new creation, the fire that brings the Church into being at Pentecost and continues to cleanse and purify her, always calling her back to her holy beginnings.

It’s the Holy Spirit’s painful fire that calls us to repentance and conversion, demanding that we reject the world’s false promises. But it’s also a fire of liberation, a fire that frees us from our slavery to sin and leads us to the freedom of God’s Kingdom.

And then Jesus tells us:

“There is a baptism with which I must be baptized, and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished.”

These words, too, confuse a lot of folks.

Didn’t Jesus already undergo a Baptism when John baptized Him in the Jordan? Yes, but for Jesus His Baptism by John is an example for us; but it’s also a sign, a manifestation of the Trinity: Jesus experiencing the descending dove of the Holy Spirit and the confirming words of the Father. So, what kind of Baptism is Jesus talking about here?

In the early Church, and in many churches today, Baptism is a total immersion in its saving waters. Consider how the Church’s funeral rite begins…

“In Baptism, she died with Christ and rose with Him to new life. May she now share with Him eternal glory.”

Immersed in the waters of Baptism, we die with Christ and become a sign of His suffering and death. Rising from the waters of Baptism, we become a sign of His Resurrection, looking to our own resurrection on the last day.

Is this “Baptism” on the Cross the one to which Jesus must be baptized? His words answer the question.

“…how great is my anguish until it is accomplished.”

Finally, Jesus tells us:

“Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.”

Many are confused and alarmed by these words as well. Doesn’t the Gospel preach bringing God’s peace to the world? Doesn’t Jesus tell us to love each other? Aren’t the peacemakers the “children of God?” And perhaps, most alarming, could these words encourage Christians to reject peaceful solutions to the problems that divide us?

Sadly, such questions betray a lack of understanding, not only of Jesus’ teaching, but also of human nature itself.

With these words Jesus gives His disciples, including us, a prophetic glance into the future, showing us how the world will respond to the Good News of the Gospel, of Jesus Christ.

God doesn’t will such divisions, but it’s something that we should expect to encounter. Indeed, it began when Jews and Gentiles called for Jesus’ crucifixion. And it’s been going on ever since.

Christianity and its teachings have not simply been rejected by many, but are also seen as the greatest threat to the plans and schemes of those seeking to gain or maintain power in the world.

It began with the Pharaohs, the Canaanites and Philistines, the Scribes and Pharisee, Sadducees, Greeks and Romans. And it continues today with Communists, fascists, Islamists, atheists, secularists…you name it. Stalin once mockingly asked, “How many divisions does the Pope have?” And yet, ironically, it was the faith of persecuted Polish Catholics that began the liberation of Eastern Europe from the Soviet yoke.

Indeed, there were more Christian martyrs in the 20th century than all previous centuries combined. Where there is persecution, there is tremendous faith. And it’s always been that way. Tertullian, the 2nd-century Early Church Father, said it well: "The blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church."

Perhaps most fittingly, the preacher in Hebrews concludes today’s passage reminding his 1st-century Christians:

“In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood.”

Yes, “not yet” – perhaps the same thing can be said to us.

Today, while Christianity in the modern, oh-so-civilized West seems to be in decline, in Africa and Asia its growth is dramatic, and so too is the number of martyrs.

The Church, as it defends the truth, demands justice, calls to respect life and human dignity, and pleads for freedom – these will create division.

Jesus reminds us that being a Christian is never easy. Yes, the peacemakers are blessed, but so too are those who suffer persecution for the sake of righteousness. Jesus doesn’t separate the two, and neither can we.

 

Sunday, August 25, 2019

Homily: 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year C (Video & Text)

The full text of this homily follows the below video.



____________________

Readings: Jer 38:4-6,8-10; Ps 40; Heb 12:1-4, 8-19; Lk 12:49-53
____________________
In May of 1940, Winston Churchill, the new Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, delivered his first speech to the House of Commons. It was an electrifying speech, one that united the nation behind his leadership as it waged war against Nazi Germany, a determined and stronger foe. And in that speech he uttered perhaps his most famous words:
"I would say to the House as I said to those who have joined this government: 'I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.' We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering."
Jeremiah
These were not comforting words, not words a government leader wants to say to the people. But they were necessary words, harsh but motivating words. They were words of truth, words that, despite the metaphors, still told it like it is. Churchill was perhaps the perfect wartime leader, and maybe this is why he was rejected by his nation once the war had ended. We see something similar in today's first reading: Jeremiah tells the hard truth, but many don't want to hear it. And so they try to destroy God's prophet.

In today's Gospel passage, Luke gives us Jesus' words. They, too, seem harsh, so harsh that some, who don't understand what Jesus is telling us, come away puzzled. How can Jesus, the Prince of Peace, tell us that He has come "not to establish peace on the earth...but rather division"? [Lk 12:51]

But that's not all. He also says that He will be the cause of this division, and that He has "come to bring fire to the earth." And then He adds those remarkable words: "And how I wish it were already blazing" [Lk 12:49].

Yes, these are indeed harsh words, the kind of words many Christians try to ignore, thinking that maybe Jesus was just having a bad day. He really didn't mean it. Did He? Like Churchill, who was apparently acceptable to many of his countrymen so long as he was waging war, to many Christians Jesus is acceptable only when He speaks of peace and love and forgiveness. But, in truth, Jesus meant everything He said. 

The trouble is, too often we see and hear only the Jesus we want to see and hear, the Jesus we'd like Him to be, and ignore the real Jesus, the God who speaks to us. Remember last Sunday's Gospel? Remember how Jesus reminded us of the demands of discipleship? 
"Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more" [Lk 12:48}.
Those, too, were not easy words for you and for me, or for all Christians who have been entrusted with so much. Jesus' words in today's Gospel passage are really quite similar. But let's look at them more closely, in the context of His total teaching, and see what Jesus is really telling us. The first thing He says: 
"I have come to bring fire to the earth" [Lk 12:49].
Is He speaking of the fire of war and destruction? No, not at all. But He is speaking of a fire that cleanses and purifies, the fire of God's Light, the fire of God's Truth, the fire of God's Presence.

It's the fire Moses encountered when he approached the burning bush on Mount Horeb [Ex 3:1-6]. The fire that didn't consume called Moses to discipleship and holiness. It is the fire that forms and reforms, a fire that continues its work in the Church today.

It's the pillar of fire that led God's People out of slavery and through the desert on their journey to freedom, to the Land promised by the Father [Ex 13:21-22].

It's the fire of the burning ember that touched Isaiah's lips and removed his wickedness and purged his sin [Is 6:6-7].
In every instance it's the unquenchable fire of the Holy Spirit, the same Holy Spirit who appeared as tongues of fire settling on the first disciples as they prayed together in the upper room [Acts 2:3].

Yes, Jesus calls for fire, but it's a fire of purification. It's a fire of a new creation, the fire that brings the Church into being and continues to cleanse and purify her, always calling her back to her holy beginnings.

Oh, it can be painful as it calls us to repentance and conversion, demanding that we reject the world's false promises. But it's also a fire of liberation, a fire that frees us from our slavery to sin and leads us to the freedom of God's Kingdom. 

And then Jesus tells us: 
"There is a baptism with which I must be baptized, and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished"  [Lk 12:50].
Once again, many are confused when they hear these words. Hadn't Jesus already undergone a Baptism when John baptized Him in the Jordan? [Mt 3:16-17] Yes, but for Jesus that Baptism by John was a sign, a manifestation of the Trinity - Jesus experiencing the descending dove of the Holy Spirit and the confirming words of the Father. Is He talking now of a second Baptism, another trip to the Jordan? No, not at all. 

In the early Church, and in many churches today, Baptism involves a total immersion in its saving waters. How does the Church's funeral rite begin today?
"In Baptism, she died with Christ and rose with Him to new life. May she now share with Him eternal glory." [See Rom 6:3-5]
Immersed, then, in the waters of Baptism, we die with Christ and become a sign of Christ's suffering and death. Rising from the waters we are a sign of His Resurrection, looking to our own resurrection on the last day.

Does Jesus look forward to this "Baptism" on the Cross? His words answer the question.
"...how great is my anguish until it is accomplished" [Lk 12:50].
Finally, Jesus tells us:
"Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division [Lk 12:51].
For many these words of Jesus both confuse and alarm. Isn't the Gospel all about bringing God's peace to the world? Doesn't Jesus tell us to love one another? Doesn't He call the peacemakers the "children of God?" [Mt 5:9]  And perhaps, most alarming, don't these words encourage Christians to reject peaceful solutions to the problems that divide us?

Such questions betray a lack of understanding not only of Jesus' teaching, but of human nature itself. Jesus simply gives His disciples, and us, a prophetic glance into the future, showing us how much of the world will respond to the Good News.

God doesn't will such divisions, but He warns us that we will encounter them. Indeed, it began when both Jew and Gentile, and that includes all of us, called for Jesus' crucifixion. And it's been going on ever since. 

Christianity and its teachings have not only been rejected by many, but also seen as the greatest threat to the plans and schemes of those seeking to gain or maintain power. It began with Scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees, and Romans. And it continues today with Communists and Islamists, with atheists and secularists. 

Stalin once mockingly asked how many divisions the Pope had. And yet it was the faith of persecuted Polish Catholics that began the liberation of Eastern Europe from the Soviet yoke. Thanks to Stalin, Hitler, Mao, and too many others, there were more Christian martyrs in the 20th century than all previous centuries combined. Where there is persecution, there is tremendous faith.

Today, while Christianity in the modern west seems to be in decline, in Africa and in Asia its growth is dramatic, and this also includes remarkable growth in priestly and religious vocations.

The Church - and it is truly Catholic, a universal Church - because it defends the truth, demands justice, calls for respect of life and human dignity, and pleads for freedom, will always create division.

Yes, the peacemakers are blessed, but so too are those who suffer persecution for the sake of righteousness. Jesus doesn't separate the two, and neither can we.

God's peace...

Monday, April 15, 2019

Notre Dame

Because I'm tasked with preparing our parish's liturgies, especially during the annual Triduum of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Vigil, I've been more than a little snowed under lately. With lots of liturgy guides to prepare and a rehearsal to plan, there's much to do and little time to do it. I must also practice the Exsultet which I will chant at the start of our Easter Vigil Mass this Saturday evening. And in the midst of it all, I had to meet with my tax guy. I haven't received a refund in years, and have always owed the U.S. Treasury more than a few dollars. I believed it was better that I, rather than the government, be able to use what little money I had. But thanks to the recent tax cut, this year I will actually see a modest refund  What a pleasant surprise. My thanks to the president.

And so today, after completing most of these liturgical preparations, I had intended to post a few comments on current issues facing our nation. But then this afternoon Dear Diane told me of the fire that apparently is destroying Paris' Notre Dame Cathedral. Sitting here in my comfortable easy chair, I am filled with sorrow as I watch the flames consume virtually all of this magnificent structure that has graced God's earth for almost a millennium. 
The Cathedral of Notre Dame Ablaze
Let me share with you a personal irony of sorts. On the table next to my easy chair sits a stack of about a half-dozen books I am currently reading. I suspect Diane has always considered this unusual. My guess is she would prefer I read only one at a time thus eliminating this small pile of books that disturbs her sense of order and neatness. As for me, I find my reading of multiple books comforting, allowing me to adjust my reading to my state of mind. Sometimes I need good fiction, sometimes a little theology, and sometimes a dose of history, whatever... 

Anyway, among these few books on the end table is a delightful history written (and autographed) by Robert Gordon Anderson, and first published in 1944, the year of my birth. The book's title? The Biography of a Cathedral and, yes, it describes the construction of Notre Dame this iconic Gothic church, but more than that, it offers a wonderful history of Paris from the days of Julius Caesar to Saint Louis. I have already read 90% of the book, and tonight will turn sadly to those final pages.

I visited the cathedral twice, once in the summer of 1965, 54 years ago when I was a Naval Academy midshipman, and again 20 years later on a business trip in 1985. On this latter trip I took many photographs inside and outside the church -- all Kodachrome slides -- but the Kodak processor somehow managed to destroy many of the photos, leaving me with only a few dozen slides from the many rolls of film I had taken. But at least I have these few, even though most of them were also badly processed. In reparation, I thought Kodak should finance a return trip to Paris, but no, they decided an apology and five or six new rolls of film were sufficient. 
One of my few photos of Notre Dame (1985)
Like many of Europe's great cathedrals, Notre Dame is filled with magnificent works of art. On that first visit in July 1965, my 20-year-old predecessor was touched most deeply by a beautiful Medieval sculpture in wood. It depicts St. Thomas, the doubter, as he places his hand in the wound in the side of the risen Jesus. Gazing at the sculpture those many years ago, I could hear Thomas' words calling to us and echoing through the ages: "My Lord and my God." 
Thomas and the risen Jesus
The memory of this sculpture hit me today as I realized it had likely been destroyed. This was followed by the thought that Thomas might actually foreshadow today's Western Europe, a collection of nations that has largely rejected its Christian roots and lost its faith in a cloud of self-absorbed, fact-seeking, materialistic doubt. 

Perhaps by allowing the destruction of her cathedral, our Blessed Mother is giving Europe, and all of us, a not too subtle wake-up call that will lead many doubters back to the faith. Moment ago, I watched thousands of secular Parisians standing in the streets, tears flowing down their cheeks, as they witnessed the cathedral's destruction. I could only hope and pray that they would come to realize that the true cause of those tears is not the burning of a building, but the lost faith the destruction of that cathedral represents. 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].

Friday, December 8, 2017

California's "Thomas" Fire

If you've been following the news out of California, you have no doubt heard of the "Thomas" fire, which had its point of origin just a mile or so from Thomas Aquinas College (TAC) in Santa Paula, California. So far it has burned well over 100,000 acres, all the way to the coast near Ventura.
The "Thomas" fire -- from downtown Santa Paula
To ensure the safety of the college's faculty and students, the college was evacuated several days ago. But remarkably, even though the fire began at the edge of TAC's property, and almost surrounded the school, TAC has been spared. I am convinced this is the result of the prayers of thousands who have stormed heaven on behalf of the college, its faculty and its student body.
The fire: from TAC campus, before evacuation
TAC is an exceptional school, a solidly orthodox, Catholic college where the students study the works of the world's greatest thinkers and writers, from Aristotle to Aquinas to Descartes, from Euclid to Newton to Einstein, from Shakespeare to Austen to Joyce. The TAC classroom is not a lecture hall; rather it offers a venue in which the students learn from and share each other's thoughts and ideas as they study the works of the great minds of the past. Our elder daughter, Erin, graduated from TAC in 1993, and I can think of no better college for a young person who wants a solid education that will prepare him for life and further education.
Thomas Aquinas College Campus
As I recall, the school was once threatened by a fire during my daughter's time there. I remember her telling me that, as the fire approached, faculty and students took part in a Eucharistic procession around the college's property, praying that God would protect the college from the ravages of the fire. He did.
The fire: in the hills above TAC
Please pray that TAC remains unscathed; and pray for all those now threatened by the many fires raging through Southern California.