Reflection: Divine Mercy Novena - Day 8

"Mankind will not have peace until it turns with trust to My mercy...Oh, how much I am hurt by a soul's distrust! Such a soul professes that I am Holy and Just, but does not believe that I am Mercy and does not trust in My Goodness. Even the devils glorify MY Justice but do not believe in My Goodness. My heart rejoices in this title of Mercy." - St. Faustine's Diary (350)

I’m always surprised by the amount of despair I encounter…and it seems to come from such unlikely places. 

Years ago, I worked with a bright, young man. Ambitious and competent, he’s gone on to have a distinguished business career. I remember when his father died. On the day before the funeral, I stopped by his office to express my condolences. I'll never forget his response.

"No big deal,” he said. “After all, life is just a crapshoot. That's why we've got to have as much fun as possible. Make money and have fun. Because when it's over…it's over!"

You can’t miss the despair in these words. And yet, were you to meet him, you'd think he was full of enthusiasm and joy at just being alive. But that joy and enthusiasm struggles against a dark backdrop of death and oblivion.

He's not alone. Others, including many Christians, worry about their physical health, and ignore their spiritual health. They worry about how they will spend their retirement, but not how they will spend eternity. They worry about helping their children get into good schools, but not helping them get into heaven. They focus on work, money, vacations, TV shows, food, possessions -- every created thing under the sun -- but rarely think of the Creator.

For so many the created world, the material world of the here and now, becomes an end in itself. But they're not blind. They see the world perishing, themselves aging, time unravelling. And unable to look beyond the world, they despair.

Well...so far, I suppose this hasn’t been a very cheerful reflection. But that’s about to change. For God has provided a cure and an antidote to despair. He gave us His Son. He gave us the personification of Divine Mercy.

The very fact of the Incarnation should be enough to cure anyone of despair. If we believe in Jesus’ divinity, how can we not accept the reality of God’s Mercy? Just meditate on the Cross. That’s our Creator hanging there. We see how God’s Mercy knows no bounds, so far beyond our understanding of mercy. The Father didn’t allow His Son to be sacrificed in such a horrible way for nothing.

But in addition to being the ultimate redemptive act, the Cross is also a plea from God to man. In giving us the gift of the Cross, God is saying: 

“Do you see how much I love you? Do you see the extent of My Divine Mercy? Then why don’t you trust in Me? You rejected My Son, you tortured Him, and you killed Him…and I knew that you would do this. And yet I still went ahead with my redemptive plan.”

His love for us, His gratuitous love, is so complete, we not only don’t deserve it, but also can’t even comprehend it. Grasping this do we then jump to the presumption that God’s Mercy will save everyone? No, because that’s not our decision. It’s God’s.

We must neither despair nor presume. God just wants us to trust. We cannot save ourselves, but by accepting and cooperating with God’s Grace, we can allow God to save us. Isn’t that a consoling thought?

Look at the world, at its hatreds, its violence, its sinfulness, its despair. How did Jesus put it in today’s reading from St. Faustina’s Diary?

“Mankind will not have peace until it turns in trust to My Mercy.”

Divine Mercy is the cure. Trust is our only response.

Reflection: Divine Mercy Novena - Day 6

Once, when I saw Jesus in the form of a small child, I asked, 'Jesus, why do you now take on the form of a child when You commune with me? In spite of this, I still see in You the infinite God, my Lord and Creator.' Jesus replied that until I learned simplicity and humility, He would commune with me as a little child" (St. Faustine's Diary, 335).

Many years ago, Fr. Adam Domanski, a Polish priest and friend, gave me a copy of St. Faustina’s Diary. I’ll confess, I didn’t read it right away, but when I finally got around to opening the book, I could hardly put it down.

And when I read those words you just heard, I thought immediately of St. Therese, the Little Flower. For she, like St. Faustina, came to understand the necessity of approaching our God with the humility and innocence of a small child. Indeed, as St. Therese wrote:

 “…I am too small to climb the rough stairway of perfection…then… I read these words coming from the mouth of Eternal Wisdom: ‘Whoever is a little one, let him come to me.’ And so I succeeded. I felt I had found what I was looking for… for this I had no need to grow up, but rather I had to remain little and become this more and more.”

Such an attitude, of course, goes against everything the world tells us. Can anything be more countercultural? To try to remain childlike…but not childish. For as our Lord taught St. Faustina, to be childlike is to embrace simplicity and humility.

So often you and I try to complicate our relationship with God when all He wants from us is our love. To love God is to embrace the simple truth of the Gospel. It’s not complicated. You don’t have to be a theologian; in fact, that’s probably an obstacle.

Realize, too, that humility is simply the byproduct of reality. As St. Faustina reminds us, our God is “the infinite God, my Lord and Creator.” Knowing this, accepting it, believing it can do nothing but drive us to humility.

These two holy women, then, have taught us so much about becoming a spiritual child. We must learn and accept our total dependence on our God, so we can lead a life of trust and abandonment. We need to let God carry us to holiness. As Saint Therese confessed:

"What pleases Him is seeing me loving my littleness and poverty, the blind hope that I have in His mercy."

Childlike trust is possible only by God's merciful love towards all sinners. His mercy is bigger than any sins we may have committed. Let us always try to approach God with love, and with confidence in His mercy. To live in simplicity and humility is to rid ourselves of all that draws us away from God. When we've sinned, we must throw ourselves, like a child, into the arms of God's mercy. That's the beauty of the sacrament of reconciliation. God always waits for us with open arms.

Anxiety comes from worry, worry about that over which we have little or no control. Don’t worry about the past or the future. Live in the present moment as a child does. Interestingly, the older I get, the more I come to accept this. Children and saints seem to find lots of joy by living in the here and now. Let's join them, forgetting the sins of the past, and trusting that God will take care of our future.

Homily: Saturday, 23rd Week in Ordinary Time (20th Anniversary of 9/11)

A few years ago, on one of my days as on-call hospital chaplain, I visited a patient who began the conversation by saying he belonged to no church, that he believed in God, but was pretty sure God didn’t care much about him.

That’s not the sort of thing you usually hear when visiting patients, so I asked him why he thought that. His answer was just as surprising…

“I’m 83 years old and I’ve done just about every bad thing you can imagine. And now they tell me I’m dying. I don’t know if there’s a heaven or a hell, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to heaven.”

I smiled at him and asked, “Oh, so you’re a sinner?”

His response? “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Well, welcome to the club,” I told him. “a very exclusive club, one that includes us all.”

It was then I thought of what St. Paul wrote to Timothy, words from today's first reading:

“Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. Of these, I am the foremost” [1 Tim 1:15].

Sharing this with him, I told him he reminded me of St. Paul, a man who realized his sinfulness, but then came to understand that Jesus Christ entered the world, that He suffered and died to save him and every other sinner.

The two of us shared a lot that morning, including the fact that we each had a friend who died on 9/11.

Yes, we shared a lot, about sin, and repentance, and forgiveness, and redemption. And I think it changed us both. As we heard in our psalm:

“He raises up the lowly from the dust…” [Ps 113:7]

That’s how we all feel sometimes, isn't it? As if we’re enveloped in a cloud of dust, struggling to break through, hoping to see the light and find the truth.

But we can’t do it on our own. Only God can raise us up, out of the world’s dust. Like my hospital patient, sometimes it can take a lifetime to understand and accept that.

As I hope he discovered, it’s never too late to rebuild our house on the solid foundation of God’s mercy, God's love, and God's Word.

I thought of him, too, today as we call to mind tragic events of 20 years ago. And there’s so much to remember, isn’t there?

We pray for those who lost their lives, and for those they left behind.

We also pray for and thank those who gave their lives, who didn’t hesitate to enter selflessly into that cauldron, those scenes of destruction, to help -- those first responders who gave everything, and the 40 men and women on flight 93 who sacrificed their lives to save others.

Yes, indeed, although so many died in those clouds of dust in Manhattan, the Pentagon, and in a field in rural Pennsylvania, we believe they were raised up by the Lord.

In the first of His brief parables in today’s Gospel passage from Luke, Jesus tells the disciples:

“Every tree is known by its fruit…” [Lk 6:44]

There was certainly enough “rotten fruit” on that September 11, acts carried out by those whose hearts were filled with hatred.

But there was so much more “good fruit,” thanks to the goodness the world witnessed that day. How did Jesus put it?

“A good person out of the store of goodness in his heart produces good…” [Lk 6:45]

There were so many hearts filled with goodness that day, so many who have given their lives in our defense since then, and so many today as well.

The other day, in an interview, a woman who lost her husband on 9/11 said, “And I pray, too, for the terrorists, because only God can change their hearts. We certainly haven't been able to do it with politics, diplomacy, or military might.”

Today, she, and I, and all of us look at our world and wonder if much has really changed in 20 years. Perhaps the answer lies in our hearts.

Do we honestly think we can bring about goodness in the world without God’s help?

No, only God can raise us up out of the dust. We can’t do it on our own.

Perhaps 3,000 years ago, the Psalmist said it well:

"Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals in whom there is no help. When their breath departs, they return to the earth, so that very day their plans perish. Happy are those whose help is in the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God [Ps 146:3-5].

Do we place our hope in the Lord, our God? Are we like those whom the Lord praised?

"I will show you what someone is like who comes to me, listens to my words, and acts on them” [Lk 6:47].

 God love you and God bless our nation.

Homily: Eucharistic Adoration

Readings: Jas 3:13-18; Psalm 122; John 14:23-29

Listening to St. James is always a bit of an awakening. He certainly didn’t pull any punches. His Letter is filled with wonderful truths about living our faith; but when reading this passage, I was especially struck by his words, “…in the humility that comes from wisdom” [Jas 3:13].

I'm pretty sure He's telling us that wisdom means having a true sense of the reality of things. And perhaps the greatest of all realities is the vast difference between us and the God who created us. Recognizing this difference can do nothing but fill us with humility. Yes, indeed, humility comes from wisdom, the acceptance of God’s greatness and our seeming insignificance.

And yet, our God created us in love…

He wants us to spend an eternity with Him, out of love…

He humbled Himself to become one of us, out of love…

He blesses us with His greatest gift, the gift of Himself in the Eucharist…again, out of love.

And as St. James reminds us, the fruit of it all is God’s peace, a peace that frees us from anxiety and fear.

Of course, we hear much the same from Jesus.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid” [Jn 14:17], He told the Apostles – a message for all of us.

Are you afraid? If so, you're in good company. The apostles were certainly afraid and confused.

Jesus spoke to them about His death, His execution at the hands of His enemies. In our passage from John, we can almost sense their confusion. 

If He’s the Son of God, one with the Father, how can this happen? How would they cope without Him? Would they also be arrested and executed? Yes, they were afraid, and fear undermined their faith. They began to doubt. 

These fears remained, throughout Jesus' Passion and Death, and even after His Resurrection. Only with the arrival of the promised Holy Spirit on Pentecost did their fears evaporate, replaced by God's peace.

“Peace is my farewell to you; my peace is my gift to you” [Jn 14:27].

And, yes, God’s peace is so very different from the peace the world offers.

For God doesn’t promise the absence of war or conflict. His peace doesn’t free us from suffering or persecution, from pain or illness. It’s not the peace of a tranquil life, nor is it peace of mind.

This is the peace the world promises, always unfulfilling, superficial, misleading, ephemeral, and unjust.

It’s not the peace Jesus gives us. How did He put it?

“Not as the world gives do I give it to you” [Jn 14:27].

Because the peace that Jesus promises completely transcends anything the world can offer us.

Victor Frankl, an Austrian psychotherapist who died in 1997, spent much of World War II as a prisoner in Auschwitz and other death camps.

Frankl, a Jew, wrote a book of his experiences called, “Man's Search for Meaning.”

In it he describes how, in the midst of brutality and degradation, he encountered so much remarkable faith and unselfish love.

Amazed by those who had achieved victory over the sinfulness that surrounded them, Frankl had a revelation. He wrote:

“Then I grasped…The salvation of man is through love and in love.

For the first time in my life, I was able to understand the meaning of the words, ‘The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.’”

Yes, in the midst of the horror that was Auschwitz, Victor Frankl had encountered God’s peace. 

This is the peace proclaimed by Christ, a peace that is achieved by victory over sin, something that comes only through the power of God.

The basis of peace, the peace of soul Jesus promises, is God and God alone.

And the very soul of peace is love, which comes only from the love of God and expresses itself through us in our love for others.

Only by turning to God can we rid our lives of all that is driven by selfishness and greed, by hatred and bitterness. For whatever takes away God’s peace from your soul cannot come from God.

Only by turning to God can we replace the evil in our lives with love for God and neighbor, with forgiveness, with the will to help others, and the desire to share the Good News of Jesus Christ.

The secret of peace? Trust, trust in the will of God.

Too often we trust only in ourselves. We think we can achieve peace in our lives by our own efforts, but in doing so we become only like the Pharisees.

How different are the saints…who sought only to love and serve God.

For the saints knew that one doesn’t become a saint. It is God who makes saints…out of sinners who trust in Him and accept His will for them.

No saint ever had a plan to become a saint. Had this been the case, he would have become only a perfectionist, not a saint.

Brothers and sisters, we can possess the peace of Christ, a fruit of the Holy Spirit, but only if God’s Spirit lives within us.

As Jesus promises us:

"If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him" [Jn 14:23].

And that’s exactly what our loving God does when we receive Him worthily in the Eucharist.

When God dwells within you, there’s no room for anything else, no room for anything but God's peace – and certainly no room for fear.

Fear never comes from God. To escape it simply turn to our Lord in total trust.

And remember, wherever Jesus is, so too is the Holy Spirit – with us to guide us, strengthen us, encourage us, just as He guides, strengthens, and encourages the Church.

Anyway, what is there to fear when you have been promised eternal life?

As St. Paul tells us again and again, Christ – and only Christ – is our peace [Eph 2:14].

 

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #2: The Book of Job

Once again I have put some words together, aimed at my Bible Study participants, that I trust will offer hope during this challenging time. The Book of Job seemed like a good source for that hope, so I made it the center of this reflection. 

________________________

Responding to a request from one of our Bible Study regulars, I decided to offer a view – a necessarily brief view -- of the current crisis through the lens of the Book of Job. Given the suffering experienced by so many throughout the world today, it was an excellent suggestion. Many are turning to God in prayer, begging for His help as they face not only the possibility of serious illness, but also unemployment and future uncertainty. Others, in the face of real suffering, turn from God in confusion or anger, asking why they or their loved one have become victims of this virus. They blame God and ask how a loving God could inflict so much pain on so many. And, of course, there are some who accept their suffering, who see it as a gift, as a means to deepen their faith, or as a sign pointing the way to a closer, more intimate relationship with God. All of these can benefit from the story of Job, a man who suffered much and also prefigured our Lord, the Suffering Servant [Is 52:13-53:12].

If you have not already read the Book of Job, or if you haven’t read it recently, I encourage you to do so now. Consisting of 42 chapters, Job is not a brief book, but given our situation in the midst of stay-at-home sheltering, I expect you all have more than a little extra time on your hands and should be able to spend some of it reading the Bible. If you are sequestered as a couple, I suggest reading the Book of Job together, aloud, perhaps pausing occasionally to share insights and questions.

You will find that the Book of Job tells a wonderful and interesting story, one that focuses on the meaning of pain, suffering, and tragedy, these ever-present aspects of the human experience. Many of the ancients, among both Jews and Gentiles, saw material blessings or misfortunes as manifestations of divine rewards or punishments. Prosperity was believed to be the result of virtue while sin brought misfortune. In a most wonderful way, the Book of Job challenges this too pat explanation of God’s governance of creation. It does so by introducing us to the book’s title figure, a man named Job. Not only is Job largely innocent and underserving of punishment, but he also calls into question the traditional explanations offered by his so-called friends.

As you will discover, the Book of Job provides no quick and easy answers to some of the key questions that have hounded humanity from its beginnings. But by challenging the usual answers to these questions, this ancient book offers many profound insights into humanity’s evolving understanding of suffering and its relationship to reward and punishment. Most importantly, for you and me as Christians, Job offers an introduction to and a prefiguring of the Good News, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and its message of redemptive suffering and the paradox of victory in defeat.

Our story is set in the land of Uz. No one knows for certain where Uz was located, but many scholars believe it was somewhere east of Edom, not far from the land of the Chaldeans. The book’s opening verse tells us much about the story’s protagonist:

“In the land of Uz there was a blameless and upright man named Job, who feared God and avoided evil” [Job 1:1]

Job, then, was not an Israelite, but like many in the ancient world he had apparently come to know the God of Israel [Job 1:21]. The book was surely written by a Hebrew, a man of deep wisdom who occasionally turned to the Book of Proverbs for support. He offered insight into God’s plan for salvation, a plan that extends the hope of salvation beyond His chosen people. Here we also get a glimpse into what Israel thought about God’s relationship with the pagan who lacks the benefit of revelation, the man to whom God has not yet spoken. From the very beginning Job shows us that all men wrestle with God, a mysterious, silent God who guides the universe in ways far beyond man’s understanding. The pagan’s God is one who does not explain himself, and this is the God we encounter in the Book of Job. The book, then, takes us into the ancient past, to the past before God spoke to Abraham, and in doing so asks as many questions of man as it does of God. 

Job begins with a prose prologue [Job 1:1-2:13], which provides context in the heavenly realm of Job's character and the circumstances of his suffering. This is followed by several lengthy and highly poetic dialogues between Job and his friends, as well as revelations from God Himself [Job 3:1-42:6] – all addressing Job’s suffering and his relationship with God. The book concludes with a brief prose epilogue [Job 42:7-17] in which the friends are rebuked, and Job’s life is restored. It also offers Job at least partial answers to his questions. 

The first two chapters or prologue describe a dialogue between God and Satan during which Job is depicted as a truly righteous man. And yet, despite Job’s righteousness, God allows Satan to attack him. As a consequence, Job is stripped of his family, his possessions, and his health. This dialogue, and the suffering that results, highlight God’s sovereignty and provide some initial insight as to how we should respond to the suffering that comes our way. 

Today, in the midst of this pandemic, many are asking some of the same questions we encounter in Job. How did this happen? Where is God? Is this a punishment? Some use the fact of the pandemic to deny God’s very existence: no loving God would allow this. Others simply blame Him for the suffering they or those they love must endure. Witnessing Job’s life, we find a man who must endure great suffering, a man who has lost everything. And yet Job perseveres in his acceptance of God’s sovereignty. 

In one sense, the sovereignty of God is one of the key themes of the book, a theme repeated throughout Sacred Scripture, especially in the Psalms. For example,

Say to God: “How awesome your deeds! Before your great strength your enemies cringe. All the earth falls in worship before you; they sing of you, sing of your name!” [Ps 66:3-4].

Or one of my favorites:

Our God is in the heavens; he does whatever he pleases [Ps 115:3].

Yes, God is Sovereign, a theme repeated again and again throughout the Psalms. [See Ps 47, 90, 93, 121…]

In Job we encounter another equally important theme: God is just. It is a theme perhaps best expressed by the prophet Isaiah:

Truly, the Lord is waiting to be gracious to you, truly, he shall rise to show you mercy; For the Lord is a God of justice: happy are all who wait for him! [Is 30:18]

The Book of Job examines humanity’s suffering and its relation to our sovereign and just God. It calls forth the same kind of questions people ask today. Is God’s justice different from human justice? Does He personally apply His justice in our world? Or does He simply watch as humanity applies its own imperfect brand of justice? What’s more important, our health or the worship of God? Indeed, is God better than life itself? 

As we make our way through Job, we come to realize that a true understanding of God’s sovereignty and justice is beyond our comprehension. Indeed, in Job it is revealed that our limited human view of God’s creation makes His justice incomprehensible. 

We are, therefore, encouraged to accept God’s sovereignty and realize His infinite value, that He is more satisfying than anything earthly. God is not to be cursed; rather, He must be worshipped and loved – and, yes, even feared – in the midst of our suffering. But that fear of God, that gift of the Holy Spirit, is merely an acceptance of the reality of God’s all-encompassing sovereignty. He is Creator; we are His creatures. But we were created in His image and likeness and created in love. 

Like much of the Old Testament, the Book of Job foreshadows New Testament thought. Consider, for example, how the Apostle James views Job’s faithfulness: 

“As an example of suffering and patience, brethren, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. Behold, we call those happy who were steadfast. You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful” [Jas 5:10-11].

Compassion and mercy, even in the midst of suffering, are manifestations of God’s love for us, and display God’s true character. Even though God gave Satan permission to bring conflict and suffering into Job’s life [Job 1:6-8], there still remains the reality of God’s mercy and compassion. God loves His people, just as He loved Job. Despite death, sickness, financial upheaval – all these effects of the current pandemic – we must first consider the character of our God.

God communicates directly with Job, providing answers to many of Job’s questions [Job 38:1-42]. Job is reminded that his understanding is limited, and that God is the creator of all and through His power keeps creation whole. God continues by revealing that even in His omnipotence and omniscience He extends compassion and mercy to His people, the creatures He created out of love. God, therefore, is more than an observer, more even than a participant; He is the ruler of the world, a revelation echoed by the prophets [Amos 3:6; Is 45:7]. As ruler, God alone governs sickness, life, and death:

“Is it not at the word of the Most High that both good and bad take place?” [Lam 3:38]

Today, as we cope with the current pandemic, we can be certain that God rules over our sufferings and our fears. We can, therefore, turn to Him in our pain and reaffirm the response of Job:

“The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!” [Job 1:21]

Despite all that he has lost – his children, his possessions, his health – Job will not react by cursing God. Note how Job responds to his wife when she tells him to curse God:

“We accept good things from God; should we not accept evil?” [Job 2:10]

Remarkably, then, for Job the losses he has experienced instill in him a desire to worship the Lord. In the same way, our response to suffering should be one of reverence and worship. God wants us to recognize His sovereignty, to worship Him, and pray that He will intervene and relieve our suffering. 

Are we willing to examine our own fears and our response to God in the midst of this crisis? Can we look more deeply, beyond the obvious, and come to recognize the good that God has brought? Can we bless God for these gifts? 

Job understood that we should not add to our sinfulness by cursing God in the midst of suffering. For Job the only suitable response is to turn to God in humility, and in prayer and adoration. We see this reflected by David in the many of the Psalms, for example:

"My soul, be at rest in God alone, from whom comes my hope. God alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not fall. My deliverance and honor are with God, my strong rock; my refuge is with God. Trust God at all times, my people! Pour out your hearts to God our refuge!" [Ps 62:6-9].

We must also recognize that the suffering Job experienced was not the result of his sinfulness. He was not being punished. On the contrary, God acknowledged Job’s righteousness three times in chapter one. You and I cannot comprehend the mind of God, and the pandemic we currently face is not necessarily related to our sinfulness. Yes, God disciplines us…

The discipline of the LORD, my son, do not spurn; do not disdain his reproof; For whom the LORD loves he reproves, as a father, the son he favors [Prv 3:11-12].

Knowing this should lead us to repentance. It should deepen our faith and cause us to turn to the Good News of redemption in Jesus Christ. It should not cause us to blame the suffering so many are experiencing on their sin. In Job, it is revealed that through suffering and pain that there is no greater good, no greater love, than God.

Job seemed to understand almost instinctively that family, possessions, and health are not the source of true happiness. The ultimate satisfaction we all seek can be found only in God Himself. Once again Job prefigures the Gospel of Jesus Christ:

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” [Mt 10:37-39]

St. Paul brings this teaching to the reality of his own life when he instructs the Philippians:

“But whatever gains I had, these I have come to consider a loss because of Christ. More than that, I even consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things and I consider them so much rubbish, that I may gain Christ” [Phil 3:7-8].

We too, as we make our spiritual way through this pandemic, must recognize that our hope cannot be found in physical health, or in other people and things. As St. Peter reminds us, our hope is only in our loving God, even in the midst of suffering: 

“The God of all grace who called you to his eternal glory through Christ Jesus will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you after you have suffered a little. To him be dominion forever. Amen” [1 Pt 5:10-11].

God is here. He is Emmanuel – God with us – and He continues to rule over the entirety of His creation. Some will be restored from their suffering in this life, and others in the next, but God has promised salvation to His faithful ones:

"Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say: 'Now have salvation and power come, and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Anointed. For the accuser of our brothers is cast out, who accuses them before our God day and night. They conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; love for life did not deter them from death'" [Rev 12:10-11].

And how can we not turn once again to the prophetic words of St. Paul as we seek peace and comfort?

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

Savor and bask in the glory of God today. As I walked through the near deserted streets of The Villages in this morning’s pre-dawn hours, I couldn’t help but notice that all of creation continued to praise its Creator. A nearly full moon hung over the western horizon while the morning’s first light painted the eastern clouds red. I watched as the planets – Mars, Saturn, and Jupiter -- all named after false gods, faded one after another in the first light of day. The birds, too, greeted the rising sun with a medley of glorious songs. 

Yes, indeed, it is the Rising Son that all creation celebrates during these three holy days of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Thank God for this today. Thank our loving Father, the God of Job, for sending His only begotten Son to live as one of us, to die for our sins, and to destroy death through His Resurrection – all so we can enter an eternal life of happiness with Him.

As we await the end of the current crisis, we should learn from Job who placed his hope in God, knowing that God’s plans, God’s will, cannot be thwarted by any power. 

I see the image of Divine Mercy hanging of our wall and the words, “Jesus, I trust in You!” Trust in God’s mercy. Trust in the King of Kings, the Prince of Peace, the Lord of Lords. Trust in the God who suffered to provide us with life and peace. 

Homily: Wednesday. 25th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Proverbs 30:5-9; Psalm 119; Luke 9:1-6
--------------------------------
When Diane and I travel we always overpack. Hotel bellman cry out with prayers of thanksgiving for the expected tips. Yes, despite our best intentions we carry all sorts of baggage on our journey. It's certainly not very apostolic of us. 

For Jesus tells the apostles to take next to nothing! And do you know something? He tells us to do the same. You see, Jesus knew that the more we take on this journey of ours, the more we'll rely on those things and the less we'll rely on God. The less we rely on God, the harder it will be to see God in others, especially those who lack the material blessings we've been given. And I suspect the more we're encumbered with stuff, the harder it is for others to see God in us.

A few months ago, in a conversation with one of my fellow volunteers at the Wildwood Soup Kitchen, I remarked that the meal we were serving that day looked particularly appetizing. She just shrugged her shoulders and said, "I suppose so, but I really don't think much about food." Just then one of our guests, who had overheard her comment, said, "You would if you didn't have any."

What do you think? Did he see God in us that day? It's easy to overlook another's empty plate when our own is overflowing. Perhaps having too much to eat is worse than having too little. It tends to make us insensitive to those who hunger, and ungrateful to God for all His gifts.

Jesus invites us to rely on Him for everything we need, so we're not tempted to take credit for the good in our lives.

When He sent out the Apostles, He gave them something far more valuable than things. He gave them a companion and a message; he also gave them power and authority. He took away their transportation, their luggage, food, money, and extra clothes. He didn't make reservations for them at the Ritz Carlton, or the Holiday Inn, or even Motel 6. Instead he told them, "Whatever house you enter, stay there and leave from there" [Lk 9:4]

Too often we do exactly the opposite of what Jesus tells us, with predictable results. Why? Because we just don't trust God enough to do it His way.

This is a particularly fitting theme for our parish because tomorrow we celebrate the memorial of our patron, St. Vincent de Paul. Vincent was the epitome of trust. Like Mother Teresa, 300 years later, he placed total trust in God and achieved great things. Listen to what Vincent once said about trust:

"Free your mind from all that troubles you; God will take care of things. You will be unable to make haste in this (choice) without, so to speak, grieving the heart of God, because he sees that you do not honor him sufficiently with holy trust. Trust in him, I beg you, and you will have the fulfillment of what your heart desires."

St. Vincent knew poverty because he lived a life of poverty, and devoted himself and the orders he founded to helping the poor.

His life was an echo of today's reading from Proverbs: 

Put falsehood and lying far from me, give me neither poverty nor riches; provide me only with the food I need; lest being full, I deny you, saying, "Who is the Lord?" Or, being in want, I steal and profane the name of my God [Prv 30:8-9].

Yes, St. Vincent knew that "poverty of spirit" frees us from greed and preoccupation with possessions and gives God room to act in our lives.

The Lord wants us, His disciples, to be dependent on Him and not on ourselves - for then He will work through and in each of us for his glory. So, the question for us today is: Are we ready to handle the power and authority God wants us to exercise on His behalf? 

He entrusts us with His gifts and talents.  Are we eager to place ourselves at his service, to do whatever He asks, and to witness His truth and saving power to all He sends to us?

Homily: Monday, 1st Week of Advent

Readings Is 2:1-5; Psalm 122; Mt 8:5-11

I'm often amazed...people, things, situations, encounters - a lot of these amaze me.

A few weeks ago, during my stint as hospital chaplain, I visited a patient who told me he was dying and wanted to go to hospice. I expressed my sorrow at his situation, but he just smiled and said, "Oh, no, this is a good thing. I'm 83. God gave me a good life, and it's time to go home." I'll admit I was amazed. It's not often you encounter someone who faces death with such deep faith.

I'm amazed when I look up at the night sky and try to contemplate the unimaginable vastness of the universe and the complexity of God's creation. And then I look at myself and realize that I, along with every other person God created, represent the very pinnacle of creation: created in God's own image and likeness, and created out of love. That too is amazing.

I'm amazed when I encounter someone who professes to be a Christian, but lives as if God doesn't exist.

Yes, I am easily and frequently amazed.

But it must have taken a lot to amaze Jesus. Indeed, in the Gospels, only twice is Jesus described as amazed.

Once, while Jesus was visiting His hometown of Nazareth, Mark tells us: "He was amazed at their lack of faith" [Mk 6:6]

The second instance is in today's passage from Matthew when Jesus encountered exactly the opposite: the Roman centurion's remarkable faith.

It was especially remarkable because the centurion was a Gentile, not a Jew. And not just any Gentile: He was an officer in the occupying army of Rome. Most Jews would have despised him.

Although Jesus had numerous encounters with Gentiles, He instructed the disciples to avoid them. As Jews, still being formed as disciples, they were not yet ready to take the Good News to the world. It's only later, after Jesus' death and resurrection, when, in anticipation of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, He commanded them:

"Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations..." [Mt 28:19]

But throughout His public ministry, in anticipation of this great commission, Jesus began to show them what discipleship is all about. All their biases and hatreds - whether religious, ethnic, cultural, political, personal - they all had to go. You can't make disciples of those you despise.

In today's passage, Jesus shocks His disciples. When speaking of the centurion, He says:

"...in no one in Israel have I found such faith" [Mt 8:10].

Yes, Jesus tells the crowd, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are with God, not because they were Jews, but because they were men of faith, just like this centurion standing here before Me.

What Jesus sees, what amazes Him, is the centurion's tender concern for his servant, his humility in the face of spiritual power, and his faith, the kind that can move mountains. He is a man of discipline, a man familiar with the application of worldly power, but he also recognizes that such power has its limits. His trusted servant is dying; neither he, nor Caesar, nor any other human can do a thing about it.

So he comes to Jesus. But he comes not to a mere man, but to One he calls "Kyrie" - Lord.  Yes, in his humility this man of earthly power recognizes the divine power of his Lord.
Jesus need not humble Himself by visiting the house of a Gentile. He need only say the word. Indeed, the centurion knows that the house of man cannot contain God - only the Word can contain God.

This understanding causes the centurion to look upon the very Word of God and say those words we repeat as we adore the Eucharistic Presence at every Mass:

"Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed" [Mt 8:8].

He left his home searching for the Word, for the Divine Presence, searching for the God Who was actually in search of him, calling him.

The centurion was a man of compassion and common sense, but it was his deep faith that amazed the Lord.

Brothers and sisters, this is what Jesus seeks. His gaze rests on each one of us, begging us to grasp the gift of faith He offers. He calls us to a deep fiery faith, the kind that burns away all the layers of worldly bias and hatred and materialism, that shatters all the obstacles with which we surround ourselves.

Let's begin Advent trusting that the Lord wants to respond to our need, knowing that the Word of God can heal and renew us, recreate and refashion us. Out of our spiritual poverty, but filled with confidence, let us pray "Come Lord Jesus" [Rev 22:19]

A Day for Prayer and Fasting

Today, election day, is a perfect day for prayer and fasting, a day when we should step away from the busyness of our lives and turn to God in praise and thanksgiving. 

No one can predict the results of our national election, but whatever the outcome we, as a nation, will face challenges unlike any we have encountered in our lifetime. We cannot address these challenges alone. We will need God's help; or, perhaps more accurately, God wants -- He certainly doesn't need -- our help. He wants us to turn to him in humility and to seek His will for us as a nation and as individuals. He wants us to abandon ourselves completely to Him. But, sadly, too many of our fellow citizens have evicted God from their lives, rejected any thought of humility before their Creator, and actually believe that man can solve all the world's problems without divine help. 

Take some time today to pray together as a family. Spend a few moments in the presence of Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. He's there in the Tabernacles of every Catholic Church, waiting for you in silence. And fast! Let God be your food today. Let Him fill you with His goodness.

Early this morning as I prayed the Morning Prayer of the Church's Liturgy of the Hours, I was struck by the appropriateness of the selection of the prayer of Azariah from Daniel 3, the prayer he offered from within the fiery furnace. The Church selected the following verses to include in its Morning Prayer:

O Lord, do not withdraw your favor from us.

Blessed are you, Lord God of our fathers: your name is glorious for ever for you are just in all you have done to us.

For we have sinned and done wrong, we have deserted you and done all things wrong.

Do not give us up for ever, for your name’s sake we beg you, do not dissolve your covenant.

Take not your loving kindness from us, for the sake of Abraham, your beloved; and Isaac your servant, and Israel your holy one.

You told them you would multiply their seed like the stars of the sky like the sand on the shores of the sea.

But we, Lord, are made the least of all nations.Today we are brought low over all the earth on account of our sins.

Today there is no prince, no prophet, no leader, no holocaust, no sacrifice. No offering, no incense, no first-fruits offered to you – no way to obtain your mercy.

But in our contrite souls, in a spirit of humility, accept us, Lord. Like a holocaust of rams and bulls, like fat sheep in their thousands, let our sacrifice be like these before you today.

Bring to fruition the quest of those who follow you, for those who trust in you can never be confounded.

And now we follow you with all our heart and we revere you and seek your face.

Yes, indeed, "Today we are brought low over all the earth on account of our sins." We stand in a fiery furnace of our own making; and so, let us too call out to God "in the spirit of humility" and follow Him wherever He leads us.

Pray for our nation.

God's peace...

Homily: Monday, 29th Week of Ordinary Time - Year 2

Readings: Eph 2:1-10; Ps 100; Luke 12:13-21
------------------
 

That’s quite a man Jesus describes in today’s Gospel passage – a real success story, the kind of person many would admire, even today. His perceived success is measured by his wealth, attributed to his hard work and good planning. But that’s not how God sees him. For Jesus, this man’s life was a mess, guided by misplaced priorities.

His first wrong priority was never seeing beyond himself, focused only on “I”. But “I” is the shortest word in our language, and requires just one stroke of the pen. Perhaps this is the best indication of its relative importance.

His second wrong priority was his inability or unwillingness to see beyond this world. A true materialist, he based his security entirely on his personal wealth, showing us again how little the world has really changed since Jesus’ time. For many today the driving force is to build better and bigger barns, to create increasingly more personal wealth.

Now wealth, in itself, isn’t bad. But when it’s misused, when it becomes an end in itself and not a means to help others, when it’s unjustly accumulated at others’ expense, when greed and envy become the guiding forces in its acquisition, then it becomes evil.

During my working years I encountered many like the man in the Gospel. So consumed by their desire for wealth or fame or power, they ignored or neglected the morality of their actions. So driven by greed, or so self-absorbed, they were indifferent to its disastrous effects on others.

So the Gospel message is nothing new. Greed and self-absorption will always be with us. Many people are still owned by their possessions; and yet, by spending their lives collecting riches, they prove only how poor they are. And for the truly greedy, no amount of wealth is sufficient, for no amount can bring true happiness. How sad for them. They devote their lives to adding zeroes to their net worth – so much work for nothing, just another zero!
 

Remember, though, Jesus preached this parable to people who were far from rich, so don’t assume you must be wealthy to be greedy. Greed and meanness, and the self-absorption that breeds them, cut across all income levels. The only real difference between a greedy rich man and a greedy poor man is that the former has managed to convert his greed into wealth.

But both behave as if they will live forever. Did you notice that it’s through the rich man’s encounter with death that his true poverty is exposed? All that wealth is suddenly eclipsed by the person he became during the process of living. Yes, this man the world sees as so successful is an eternal failure in the deepest sense because he tries to live without God’s sustaining power.

So the parable is really a story of a person who spends life with little or no reference to God. Jesus warns us against going it alone, trying to hold our future in our own hands, of wasting our time, of reveling in our possessions and life’s comforts.

We need humility and courage to trust that the Good Shepherd will continue to lead us and guide our lives along paths we cannot wholly anticipate, let alone understand. Self-sufficiency, so highly touted today, is one of the great myths of our time. For just as with God, nothing is impossible [Mt 19:26; Lk 1:37], so too without Him, nothing lasting is possible.

Brothers and sisters, we are a spiritual people; for that is how God created us – in His image and likeness – so there’s a hunger in our hearts for more than bread, more than possessions. We hunger for the transcendent. We hunger for God – a hunger He will satisfy, if only we let Him. The only truly satisfying nourishment – God’s Word poured into our hearts – comes to us from the One Who is pure spirit – the holy mystery at the heart of our universe.

Instead of grasping after the world's riches, which all pass away, seek what God offers. As St. Paul reminds us in our first reading:

"God, who is rich in mercy, because of the great love he had for us...brought us to life with Christ" [Eph 2:4-5].

Let’s pray today that we open our hearts to the riches God offers us, that we strive always to know God’s will for us, and that we use well the gifts He has given us, especially the gift of life itself.