Call Alice…We’re in Wonderland

Do you ever get the sense that today we've wandered off into a kind of Wonderland? If you recall Lewis Carroll's story, you'll know that for young Alice the wonders of Wonderland weren't particularly pleasant. It was a land ruled largely by a "blind fury," the evil Queen of Hearts, who could make life there very difficult. 

Like Wonderland, our world, especially our corner of the world here in the once-United States of America, just gets stranger and stranger. Every few days, when I can stomach it, I check the news to get a sense of our current relationship with the cosmos. I'm inevitably assaulted by the truth -- at least, I assume it’s the truth. After all it’s on the Internet, so it must be true. Right? What follows are just a few of the assaults on my sense of normalcy that I’ve had to repel. 

Today we're the target of a direct assault, not just on our nation's long-held Judeo-Christian principles and Constitutional rights, but also on the Church itself. It's not enough simply to tolerate the sins of others; we must now openly celebrate them. As Americans we are being told to relinquish our First Amendment right to religious freedom and cower in the face of open attacks on God's Church and its magisterial teaching. This is something we cannot do.

Of course, we must remember that as Christians, we condemn no one, and leave decisions about one's salvation to each individual and to God Himself. But we are still called by God to "make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you..." [Mt 28:19-20]. Yes, indeed, we are called to teach God's commandments to all. And to do so, we must expose the attacks on God and His Church. We must also pray for those who are blinded by the temptings of the evil one, and pray that they will be open to God’s saving grace.

• Navy Drag Queen. The U.S. Navy now has a drag queen as a digital ambassador to aid in recruiting. As a retired Naval officer I’m more than a little outraged. First of all it’s morally despicable. But it’s also remarkably stupid. Does the Navy really believe a drag queen will help recruit the kind of sailors we need to keep the peace and perhaps fight the next war? The Navy chose one of its own petty officers to fill this critical billet, a Yeoman 2/C who goes by the name of Joshua Kelley, except when he slimes into his drag queen role and becomes Harpy Daniels. I find it interesting that, to my knowledge, the Navy's uniformed leadership has said little about all this. None have resigned in disgust because the Biden administration is doing everything in its power to undermine the readiness and morale of our armed forces. Believe me, our current and future enemies — the Chinese Communists, Putin’s Russia, Iran, North Korea, and a host of others — are laughing at us, amazed at our willingness to respond to their growing aggression with such idiocy. I can think of few things more dangerous than a potential enemy who looks at us and sees only weakness. Read the latest here: Navy Drag Queen Violates UCMJ

• U.S. Vatican Embassy Flies Pride Flag. The Biden administration, in its enthusiasm for celebrating so-called Pride Month in honor of a wide variety of sexual perversions collected under the alphabetic umbrella LGBTQIA+, decided to merge this enthusiasm with its equally passionate anti-Catholicism and fly the Pride flag at the U.S. Embassy building in the Vatican. To those who live these lifestyles, the fact that Catholicism considers them sinful is enough to accuse the Church of discrimination and persecution. In its public statement, the Embassy tweeted:

“During the month of June, the celebrates Pride Month . @usinholysee stands with the LBGTQI+ community against discrimination and other forms of persecution because of who they are and whom they love ”

 

Besides the Vatican, there are other nations who object to public celebrations of the LBGTQI+ community — for example, pretty much the entire Muslim world. I think I’m probably safe stating that the Pride flag did not fly outside the U.S. Embassy in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia or in any other Muslim nation. Read more here: Pride Flag at Vatican US Embassy

• Prideful Jesuit. Fr. James Martin, S.J., the LGBTQwhatever apologist has given us another of his incredible statements via Twitter. Here's Fr. Martin's tweet:

“In June, Catholics celebrate the Month of the #SacredHeart. LGBTQ people celebrate #PrideMonth. LGBTQ Catholics celebrate both. One shows us how Jesus loves. The other shows us whom Jesus calls us to love today. 

June: Celebrating the Sacred Heart and celebrating Pride. Where would the Sacred Heart be today? It would be poured out in love on these people who seek love and acceptance.”

Yes, the Sacred Heart of Jesus pours out His love for all, but He neither accepts nor overlooks our sins. He instead tells our LGBTQ Catholics and others just what He told the woman caught in adultery:

Jesus looked up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you: go, and do not sin again” [Jn 8:10-11].

Recall how Jesus began His public ministry with the command:

“This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel” [Mk 1:15].

The first step, then, is always repentance, a change in how we live our lives, a decision to turn away from sin.  

Read more here: Priestly response to Fr. James Martin.

• Big Business Worships Evil. American businesses, large and small, used to accept that employees and customers were generally religious people. To attack religious values was seen as both immoral and bad business. My how things have changed. These days, when the gender crazies go after them, too many businesses simply roll over and do whatever they're told. Bud Light, Target, Kohls, the LA Dodgers, and a host of other companies have capitulated to the current zeitgeist, an ideology pushed forward by a mob representing perhaps 7% of the American population. And believe me, the mob's target isn't Target. No, the real target is God Himself. At their core these attacks have little to do with achieving basic rights for those in the LGBTQ community. They've enjoyed those rights for decades. No, this is an attack on God and His Church, and it will continue. As Archbishop Cordileone of San Francisco told his flock not long ago, "Gird your loins!" I think we're in for quite a ride, one that will certainly test our faith. 

Pray for strength, sisters and brothers. Are all the signs beginning to merge, perhaps pointing to the end times, to the times of worldwide persecution before the glorious return of Our Lord? I haven't a clue. But that doesn't keep me from praying those words of John the Apostle with which he concludes his Book of Revelation: 

The one who gives this testimony says, “Yes, I am coming soon.” Amen! Come, Lord Jesus! The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all. [Rev 22:20-21]

Homily: Tuesday, 11th Week in Ordinary Time

Note: I didn't preach this homily today. Our celebrant decided to preach instead, which is his prerogative. It's no big deal since I always have a homily ready whenever I assist at Mass as the deacon. Sometimes I'm asked to preach, and sometimes I'm not. Anyway, this unpreached homily follows:

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Readings: 2 Cor 8:1-9; Ps 146; Mt 5:43-48

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On Sunday, one of my sons posted a Father’s Day note on Facebook. He began with a bunch of nice words about me, and then he added: “He wasn’t perfect, and he never said he was, unless he was joking.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it got me thinking of what Jesus told us in today’s Gospel passage from the Sermon on the Mount.

“So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect."

I suspect these words have made a lot of Christians suddenly pay attention and scratch their heads. Did He really mean that? How can we, these obviously imperfect beings, be perfect. Yes, indeed, Jesus sure can make life difficult, can’t He? 

Back when we were young and doing well in the world, a lot of us thought we were…well, if not perfect, at least pretty good. I remember the first time I realized I harbored some major imperfections – things that separated me from what God wanted for me. 

I was a Navy pilot during the war in Vietnam. At the time, I flew search and rescue helicopters. All I wanted to do was pickup American pilots who’d been shot down, and get them to safety. But at the time, the Communists of both North Vietnam and the Viet Cong were doing their very best to kill me. And here’s Jesus telling me to “love your enemies.” Let me tell you, that ain’t so easy when they’re shooting at you. Yes, they were an easy enemy to hate. But hating them troubled me because I knew what Jesus had commanded of us.

And so, one day I paid a visit to the Catholic chaplain and asked how we could reconcile loving our enemies with this conflict in which we were engaged. I’ll always remember that conversation. I won’t go into our rather lengthy discussion on the just war doctrine. That’s a subject for another time. But I will tell you what this young priest had to say about enemies and hatred and love and forgiveness.

He began by saying that if our enemies are those we hate, we have ceased being Christians. As disciples of Jesus Christ, we are to hate no one. But if our enemies are those who hate us, then we will always have enemies. After all, Jesus had many enemies because He did the Father’s will: He spoke the truth and He loved. He loved all, especially those despised by the world, and He spoke the truth even when it upset people.

Our enemies decide how they will treat us. We decide only to love them or hate them. Love and hate, then, are not emotions. They’re decisions. Jesus calls us to love regardless of the evil others do. And He calls to exclude no one from our love.

These are hard words for us, aren’t they? Hard indeed…until we come face to face with the Cross, and we hear His words:

“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do” [Lk 23:34].

There, on the Cross, we encounter Divine Mercy: God’s perfect love, a love that demands forgiveness. Forgiveness is the only thing we can do to those we are called to love. If we refuse to forgive, we refuse to love.

About 30 years ago I saw the movie, “Dead Man Walking” about a convicted killer named Robert Willie who'd been sentenced to death. Well, one person you won’t see in the movie is Debbie Morris, the one victim who miraculously survived her horrific ordeal at the hands of Willie. After Willie’s execution, she said, “Justice didn’t do a thing to heal me. Forgiveness did.”

Yes, it’s easy to hate and scream for justice, for man’s justice, but it never really brings healing, or the so-called "closure" the world promises. Only forgiveness does that. Only forgiveness heals.

Yes, we can defend ourselves from evil, but in defending ourselves we must not produce even greater evils. The world will never run out of objects for our hatred, especially today when enemies abound. How did Paul put it to the Corinthians:

“…test the genuineness of your love by your concern for others” [2 Cor 8:8].

After all, we were created in God’s image and likeness, so He really does call us to perfection, to live up to His expectations for us, to live up to that image and likeness. He calls each of us to view this life as a pilgrimage of love, one in which we seek out others, finding Jesus Christ in each person we meet, and letting them recognize Jesus in us.

Let God be the one who will judge His creations. We need only love and forgive. I’ve long thought this is what Jesus means when He commands us to “be perfect just as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

Schwarzenegger and the Face of God

Did you hear? Arnold Schwarzenegger, the Hollywood actor/body-builder and theologian, in a “shared discourse” with Danny DeVito, a diminutive version of Arnold, revealed that heaven and hell are mere fantasies. When asked what happens after death, he replied, “Nothing. You’re six feet under. Anyone that tells you something else is a f___ing liar.” 

The Austrian-born übermensch went on to say: “When people talk about, ‘I will see them again in heaven,’ it sounds so good, but the reality is that we won’t see each other again after we’re gone. That’s the sad part. I know people feel comfortable with death, but I don’t.”

Wow! After hearing these seemingly angry words of eschatological wisdom from Arnold, I’m sure the religious world will begin to rethink its entire attitude toward death and eternal life.

Okay, maybe not.

Arnold, because he denies life after death, is certainly no believer in the Judeo-Christian God. If he believes in any god it would be a merciless, hateful god, not unlike many of the pagan gods of the ancient world. In truth Arnold, although he might not admit it publicly, is an atheist, just another celebrity member of today’s expanding atheist culture. Today’s atheists, men and women like Arnold Schwarzenegger, deny human uniqueness. Without God there can be no real meaning and purpose in the natural world. And because they reject the presence of the sacred and transcendent, they really don’t know themselves because they don't believe they have immortal souls. Consequently, they neither encounter nor enjoy the true freedom God promises us.

Some say the atheist fears death because he fears oblivion. I disagree. The atheist fears death because he fears judgment. He fears coming face to face with the God who created him. The only way to escape God’s judgment is to cancel God, to cover or simply blot out His face. There are so many just like Arnold, people seeking only ephemeral pleasure, with no real concern for others, especially for future generations, those yet to be born. Without the face of God looking at them, they believe they can escape the eye of judgment and pretty much do whatever they like, focusing only on the here and now. We see it manifested in a consumerist society that in its most extreme form leads only to personal and societal destruction. 

You don’t have to be a theologian or sociologist to realize Arnold is not alone. I’ve focused on him simply because he went public with his comments on death and eternal life. But just consider how many other notables — politicians, Hollywood denizens, media talking heads, so-called educators — believe just what Arnold believes. Oh, they might even claim to be religious, or more likely, spiritual, but in truth they are essentially atheists. We can be fooled by listening to their words (unless like Arnold they occasionally open up) because they try to sound so good, so reasonable. The truth, however, is always in their actions. How did Jesus put it?

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

Yes, indeed, sisters and brothers, just watch what they do; just examine the fruit and you will understand the nature of the tree.

Maddie: Rest in Peace

Wednesday morning, Diane and I lost our dear Maddie, an absolutely wonderful 15-year-old Bichon Frise. Maddie was born on January 21, 2008 and died on June 7. Diane and I adopted Maddie on March 29, 2014 from the “Brat Pack,” an aptly named Bichon rescue group out of Mt Dora, Florida. Maddie, then, was a part of our family for almost ten years. It really seems as if she had been with us far longer, simply because she joined us so willingly and immediately endeared herself to us. Here’s a photo I took of Maddie on the day she joined our family.

In a conversation with a friend the other day, she suggested that for those our age our relationship with the family dog is more evident, much deeper, perhaps more important. When we're raising children, the family dog is a little less present to the parents than to the children since work, child-rearing, homemaking and all the rest take up so much of our time. We actually spend fewer hours alone with our dogs and when they leave us, we certainly miss them, but our grief is tempered by a home still full of life. But in retirement, the children are grown, raising families of their own, and a dog becomes a far more meaningful member of this smaller, aging family. Diane and I shared in Maddie’s care, and her presence was almost constant, just as Maddie shared her attention with both Diane and me. I suppose from Maddie’s perspective, we became the “pack.” Yes, we were a small pack, just the three of us, but the presence of each was important to the others. It’s remarkable how quickly this little dog became a true part of our family.

Maddie & Hang-out the Window Goggles

This was evident in Maddie’s behavior. When I moved from room to room doing little tasks, she would follow me. If I went into my office to work, she’d join me and plop down and curl up on the little dog bed near my desk. She’d act much the same way with Diane. Maddie especially disliked it when Diane and I happened to be in separate rooms with the door closed between us. This she could not accept. She wanted the pack, the family, together, or at least accessible. Maddie actually taught us quite a bit about relationships, and even about discipleship. Over the years I’ve written a few blog posts about this. Here are links to a couple of them:

• In December 2017: Doggone Discipleship.

• In August 2018: Maddie, My Teacher

The Threesome at the Grand Canyon

Within weeks of Maddie’s arrival we took her with us on a long road trip to California. It was then we discovered that Maddie, unlike all our previous dogs, didn’t especially enjoy riding in the car. Why? I haven’t a clue, but she came to us as a six-year-old with a collection of interesting, but minor, neuroses. Although she adjusted somewhat to car travel, she never fully accepted it, and much preferred to ride along in the golf cart on neighborhood trips. But as we also discovered on that long West Coast trip, she loved being with new people. Other than trying to nibble on the toes of two of our grandsons, she made friends with everyone…well, almost everyone. There was one man in the neighborhood she seemed to dislike. Whenever she saw him, she growled, a response never repeated with another. Who knows why, but I never really trusted him.

Diane and Maddie in Tombstone, AZ

Maddie readily accepted other dogs unless they were aggressive toward her. She wouldn’t put up with those snappy little ankle-biters who seem to regard other canines as potential enemies rather than friends. Usually, she would simply turn and walk away from the aggressive ones. But if another dog actually tried to attack her, Maddie would respond in a way that always sent the other dog running. She wouldn’t pursue, but would then just go about her business of OCS, that is, obsessive, compulsive sniffing. Maddie was often the dominant dog in dog-on-dog relationships.

Possessive Maddie and her Milkbone

Maddie seemed also to accept the presence of wild creatures. She would certainly notice the rabbits, squirrels, armadillos, and our little neighborhood lizards — pretty much any wild four-legged animal — but she never chased them. I think perhaps the predatory instincts had long been suppressed in her breed, or more likely it was just Maddie’s unique personality. Interestingly, the local wild critters rarely saw her as a threat. I’ve seen her stand within a foot of a pair of tall sandhill cranes. She’d just sniff away while they searched for food, each ignoring the others. The same was true when we’d occasionally happen on a flock of 20 or 30 ibis gathered in a neighbor’s front yard. Mutual tolerance was always evident. On our daily pre-dawn walk, we’d often stop by a spot where two frogs (or toads?) hung out, always sitting on the same small concrete slab. Maddie would quietly approach them, bend over, and give them a sniff. Truly amazing, but it happened day after day. If I ever came within five feet of this pair, they would instantly disappear down an access hole in the concrete. 

And here is my all-time favorite photo of the two females who joined forces to rule me for the past ten years. You can see why...

Yes, indeed, Diane and I will miss this wonderful, beautiful little gift from God. For those who love Him, God always provides the perfect gift at the perfect time. I think He did that for us when He gave us our Maddie. Living as we do in our odd version of retirement, aging and in imperfect health of mind and body, we became closer to each other thanks to Maddie. And surprisingly, with her physical departure, I sense that this closeness will only increase. She remains with us in spirit.

Oh, yes, one of my favorite philosopher/theologians is Peter Kreeft, a professor of philosophy at Boston College and a man who has written more books than most folks today have read. One of those books, Every Thing You Ever Wanted To Know About Heaven, is a marvelous read, and I recommend it highly. On page 45 Kreeft offers a wonderful, Scriptural explanation of why our pets will join us in heaven. Buy the book and read it.

In the meantime, Diane and I will still shed some tears and be continually surprised by Maddie's absence. We were good to her, but she was far better to us. And so, we offer her to the Lord, Who made heaven and earth and all creatures great and small. 

 

Blessings and God's Peace...

Dad und die Kinder

My father, John McCarthy, who was an Army captain at the time, entered Berlin with the occupation forces in 1945. He had two sons of his own back in the USA -- my brother, Jeff, born in 1941, and me, born in 1944. He enjoyed being with children and the kinder of Germany were no exception. The other day going through some old photos -- and there are literally thousands I have not yet looked at -- I came across this snapshot, probably taken by his old friend, the late Lee Hanel. He and Dad, both Army officers who served together, were avid photographers. 

I would guess that Dad was sharing some candy or sweets with the children. In the background you can see a number of German women looking on. Sadly, some of them probably lost their husbands in the war -- men who were drafted into the Wehrmacht, forced to fight Hitler's losing war. Many never returned. One can only imagine what these young mothers were thinking as they watched this American treating their children with kindness. I recall Dad once mentioning the "war children" of Germany, and telling me, "The children had nothing to do with the war, with Hitler, with the carnage, and the brutality. That was done by adults. I always tried to be friendly and kind to them." Sometimes a simple black and white photo is worth far more than a thousand words.

Pray for peace.

Homily: Saturday, 8th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Sir 51:12-20; Ps 19; Mk 11:27-33

The conversation described by Mark took place just after Jesus had cleansed the Temple, and believe me He had upset more than the tables of money changers. He had also upset the chief priests, the Temple elders, and scribes, most of whom had a financial stake in the selling and money-changing that Jesus had stopped.

Yes, indeed, they had long been looking for ways to get rid of Jesus, ways to discredit Him, perhaps accuse Him of blasphemy, hoping He would claim in public what He had reportedly said privately. And so they ask Him by what authority He did what He did in God’s Temple. They thought they were being so very clever. How could this Jesus not answer the question? But unlike Ben-Sirach in our first reading, these men didn’t pray for wisdom before the Temple, but sought only personal gain.

Jesus, though, the very personification of divine wisdom, spoke and acted with the authority of God, and for the people who truly listen to Him, it was a liberating authority. In His wisdom Jesus asked them a question they wouldn’t answer because their primary concern was not the truth but their own welfare and interests.

But all authority isn’t always easy to accept. I remember, years ago, when I was a new junior officer in my Navy aircraft squadron. On my first day, assigned as a division officer of the avionics division – all the electronics technicians who maintain all the radios, radars, and associated electronics – I called all the enlisted troops together. I went around the room, asking each about their specialties, and what they liked and disliked about their work.

The discussion went well, until one young petty officer asked, “Why should we listen to you? What do you know about avionics?” I just shrugged and said, “I know enough. I have a degree in electrical engineering, so I’ll understand all the technical stuff. But more importantly, I’ll support you all, all the way up the line, as long as you’re straight with me. Our commanding officer has given me the authority to lead this division, but if you undermine me, if you don’t listen to me, things probably won’t go very well.” Not a long speech, and as a young 25-year-old, I held my breath. There was no mutiny, so it seemed to work. Perhaps one of my better days...there have been others with different endings.

I suppose, when it comes to authority, the real issue for all of us, is who or what will we accept as our authority. You and I have to respond to a lot of different human authorities – to law enforcement and judges, to elected leaders, to all kinds of people who exert authority in limited ways over little pieces of our lives.

But to whom do we listen when it comes to the truly important things of life?

The Gospels assure us that Jesus embodies the authentic authority of God, as I said, a liberating authority that empowers us to become fully human and fully alive. Only by accepting the authority of God, an authority He has given to His Church, can we live truly happy and fulfilled lives.

Remember how, at Caesarea Philippi, Jesus extended God’s authority to Peter:

“And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” [Mt 16:18-19].

I’m pretty sure Peter didn’t realize exactly what Jesus had just given him, but in time he would come to understand the extent of it all.

But do you know something? That Church Jesus gave Peter is our Church, and it possesses the full authority of God Himself. How blessed we are to know that, when the Church speaks on faith and morals, we don’t just hear the words of men, but we are listening to the very authority of God Himself.

And how sad for those priests, and scribes, and elders that they rejected this authority that came from the very mouth of God Himself.

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.

“Gird Your Loins!”

Back when I was just a kid, our family Bible was a Douay-Rheims translation filled with prints of those wonderful biblical engravings by Gustave Doré. (You can view them all here.) As a young child I would sit on the living room couch turning the pages of that Bible and examining Doré‘s remarkably detailed scenes. My approach to Bible Study at that age was rather random, a hit-or-miss approach in which I would look at one of the pictures, then read the opening passages of the book I thought was associated with the picture. Often enough I didn’t understand much of what I’d read and found myself wondering just what those words were telling me. Many of the words were not yet part of my vocabulary, so I’d occasionally ask my mom what they meant. Once, while reading the opening verses of Jeremiah, I came across the following in which God commanded the young prophet:

“Thou therefore gird up thy loins, and arise, and speak to them all that I command thee…” [Jer 1:17]

So I asked Mom, “What does gird up thy loins mean?” As I recall, she didn’t provide a full explanation, but simply replied, “It means to prepare for battle.” At the time that was enough for the nine-year-old me. I’m guessing it was a few more years before I even knew what loins were. Truthfully, I’m still a bit foggy about it today since loins rarely, if ever, find their way into everyday conversation. 

Anyway, the phrase was not restricted to the Old Testament. St. Paul, for example, used it when writing to the Ephesians:

“Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil…Stand therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the equipment of the gospel of peace; above all taking the shield of faith, with which you can quench all the flaming darts of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” [Eph 6:11,’14-17].

Here the Apostle, using a variety of military images, instructed those early Christians to prepare themselves for spiritual battle, armed defensively with truth, righteousness, the gospel of peace, and faith. St. Peter, addressing new Christians who were undergoing persecution and hardship, used similar language to encourage them in their faith:

“Therefore gird up your minds, be sober, set your hope upon the grace that is coming to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct; since it is written, ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy’” [1 Pet 1:13-16].

Peter used only part of the “girding” metaphor, telling these Christians, “gird up your minds” and calling them to the holiness God wills for them. 

Until the other day, the last time I heard anyone use the phrase publicly was on April 17, 1970, when the Commanding Officer of our Navy helicopter squadron rose up from his ready room chair and gave some final instructions to the crews who would recover the Apollo 13 astronauts. Chuck Smiley looked out at us all and with a smile on his face said, “You’re all professionals, so I know you’ll do an outstanding job today, so let’s just gird our loins and do what the nation expects of us.” And we did. 

Why my current interest in all this loin-girding?  Because of something I read a few days ago in a news article. As you might have heard, the Los Angeles Dodgers invited a radical anti-Catholic hate group to the team’s June 16 Pride Night game. During the game the group will receive the team’s “Community Heroes” award. The group, calling themselves “The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence,” openly mocks the Catholic faith. The Dodgers invited this extremist trans group, but responding to strong criticism and complaints from Christian groups, the team dis-invited them. But then the leftist hate attacks began so the team re-invited them. 

Drag Trans "Sister of Perpetual Indulgence"

While the Archdiocese of Los Angeles issued a statement condemning this hateful decision by the Dodgers, perhaps the best response came from one of the more courageous of American bishops, Salvatore Cordileone, Archbishop of San Francisco. Archbishop Cordileone accused the Dodgers organization of worshiping “alternative gods” and then added:

“Our Catholic sisters devote themselves to serving others selflessly. Decent people would not mock and blaspheme them. So we now know what gods the Dodger admin worships. Open desecration and anti-Catholicism is not disqualifying. Disappointing, but not surprising. Gird your loins.”

Archbishop Cordileone

Don’t you just love it? “Gird your loins,” the archbishop tells his flock. Like St. Paul and St. Peter, he calls us to prepare for spiritual warfare; indeed, we are already in the midst of the war’s ongoing battles. Satan is pulling out all the stops in what will ultimately be his failing effort to destroy God’s Church. I expect this warfare to go on for quite some time, so it would be best to equip ourselves with that same defensive armor recommended by St. Paul: truth, righteousness, the gospel of peace, and faith. And to these let’s add our most effective offensive weapon: prayer.

Oh, and for all you Dodger's fans out there, I'd suggest switching allegiance to another team or just doing what I decided to do and just avoid Major League Baseball altogether. Or as we New Yorkers say: "Fugeddaboutit!"

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!

A Three-Day Stay Away

At some point this Spring Dear Diane and I realized it had been about three years since we’d taken a vacation (not counting spiritual retreats, which really aren't vacations). In our pre-COVID existence, every year or so we would join up with our good friends, Nancy and Dave Lee, meeting somewhere between our two homes. The Lees live in Northern Virginia and we live in Central Florida, so there’s a lot of territory to choose from. We've spent time with them in Georgia, North Carolina, Williamsburg, and other fun spots.

Dave & Nancy - Friends for 50 years

Because the Lees have children and grandchildren in Florida, we convinced them to join us on a mini-vacation in lovely St. Augustine, a truly historic city on Florida’s northeast coast south of Jacksonville. After a few days with us, they could then visit at least that part of the Lee clan that resides in Florida. Traveling from our home to St. Augustine involves only a two-hour drive, all on Florida’s picturesque back roads. But for our dear friends it meant a flight from D.C. to Jacksonville, then a drive in a rental car to St. Augustine. I think our next get-together will likely be at a more neutral site.

Diane and Me at Our Lady's Shrine

Although we spent only two nights and parts of three days in St. Augustine, we had a wonderful time. The weather forecast seemed a bit iffy, but the predicted thunderstorms never really materialized. We took advantage of the hop-on-hop-off trolley that runs throughout the city’s historic and waterfront districts. Of course, at our age there wasn't a lot of "hopping," but the trolley turned out to be a pretty effective way to see the sights. On each trolley ride we were entertained by a different knowledgeable driver-guide who related fascinating stories of the people and events that formed St. Augustine throughout the city’s long history. 

Chapel: Our Lady of La Leche Shrine

Diane and I had visited the city a few times in the past, so it wasn't all new to us. Our hotel was directly across the street from the National Shrine of Our Lady of La Leche, which we visited on our last morning. We had hoped to attend Mass at the shrine’s church, but we had all misread the sign and couldn’t be there for the noon daily Mass. That was the anniversary of my diaconal ordination (26 years), but we celebrated quietly, thanking Our Blessed Mother for her constant intercession. The shrine, however, is a beautiful and very peaceful place -- a "must-see" if you visit St. Augustine.

We had a couple of wonderful meals in local restaurants. The first, right next door to the St. Augustine Distillery, was at the Fish Camp Restaurant, where we were served a lovely lunch. It's a popular place, especially for lunch, so get there early. And no, we didn't visit the distillery, simply because we were running late.

On our last evening together, we enjoyed a delicious dinner at the Conch House Restaurant, out on "The Island" as the locals call it. Fortunately, this particular island is connected to downtown by a drawbridge, so getting there is a breeze. Our dinner was just perfect, but even on a Tuesday evening we had about a 45-minute wait for a table. We spent the waiting time in the restaurant's bar, which is worth a visit. Halfway down a pier, it's decked-out in true nautical regalia, perfect for Dave and me, a couple of old retired naval officers.

If you occasionally visit Florida, and who doesn't these days, be sure to spend a day or two in St. Augustine. Just don't try to see everything on your first visit. It's one of those places you'll want to visit again and again.

Homily: Saturday, 6th Week of Easter

Readings: Acts 18:23-28; Ps 47; John 16:23b-28

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Back in my other life, in my consulting days, I was often asked to talk to industrial salespeople and sales managers. One thing I tried to instill in them was the need to focus on both the roadwork and the homework. On homework, I meant becoming true experts on their products and services, and equally important, learning everything they can about their customers. Only then will their roadwork bring dividends.

We see a little of that in our reading from Acts. Apollos, an evangelist from Alexandria, was an eloquent preacher but he was lacking in knowledge of the Christian faith. So, the married team of Priscilla and Aquila took him aside and spent some time teaching Him so he could proclaim the truth of the Gospel confidently. It’s a beautiful example of believers helping, supporting, and encouraging each other in the faith, helping one another to grow in the Lord.

As I thought about today's readings, I recalled a few of my own experiences teaching others, both successful and not so successful. 

About 20 years ago, shortly before we moved to Florida, I was asked to give a brief reflection to an ecumenical group in our Cape Cod town. It was during the Lenten season and the pastors of all the Christian churches thought it would be good to have a series of prayer meetings, open to anyone who cared to attend.

Anyway, my pastor volunteered me to represent our parish, and the Congregational minister who had organized everything, asked me to preach at the first of these weekly meetings. The topic he gave me was prayer...so, there I was preaching to a couple of hundred folks, mostly Protestants, from a half-dozen denominations.

At one point early in my talk, I asked the participants, “To whom do you pray?” Almost unanimously, they answered, “Jesus!” I had expected this, and I told them that praying to Our Lord Jesus Christ was certainly a good thing.

But then I went to the Gospel, and read a number of different passages where Jesus instructs His disciples on prayer. Of course, the most famous is the Lords’ Prayer, or as we Catholics often call it, The Our Father, echoing its first words:

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…” [Mt 6:9]

I then turned to John’s Gospel and read the Word from today’s passage:

“Amen, amen, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you” [Jn 16:23].

I followed this with another half-dozen passages from the Gospels and St. Paul’s letters, teaching us to pray to the Father, always in Jesus’ Name, and guided by the Holy Spirit.

All too often, though, we think we know what’s best for us, and so that’s what we pray for, as if we need to instruct God on what’s best for us. As St. Paul wrote, encouraging the Christians of Rome:

“…the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” [Rom 8:26].

I’ve always loved that explanation of Paul's. In effect the Holy Spirit is telling us, "You try, but you really don’t know what to pray for, or how to pray, so I’ll just handle it all for you, interceding for you with the Farther…but you must try. Go ahead and pray, perhaps repeating those words of Jesus, 'Thy will be done,' and I’ll fill in the blanks with my inexpressible groanings." Or as St. Paul said to the Ephesians, more succinctly, just “pray at all times in the Spirit” [Eph 6:18].

So, what does today’s Gospel passage, and the New Testament in general, teach us about prayer? Well, among other things, we learn that prayer should be Trinitarian: to the Father, in the Son’s Name, and through the workings of the Holy Spirit. We need only listen to the Eucharistic prayer at every Mass, a prayer addressed to the Father, through the Son – yes, “through Him, with Him, and in Him – and in the unity of the Holy Spirit.” Our prayer, then, has the pattern of the Trinity stamped on it.

As I said to that mixed congregation on Cape Cod, “Pray to Jesus if you like, but remember that any prayer to Jesus will always unite us with the Father through the love and power of the Holy Spirit.” Paul, once again, put it so much better:

“…you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, “Abba, Father!” The Spirit itself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God…” [Rom 8:15-16]

Yes, indeed, we are children of the Father…and how good is that!

 

Homily: Tuesday, 6th Week of Easter

Readings: Acts 16:22-34; Ps 138; John 16:5-11

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Coincidentally, or perhaps not since I really don’t believe in coincidences, in our parish Bible Study we’re currently discussing this particular chapter, chapter 16, of the Acts of the Apostles. This section of Acts tells us of Paul’s second missionary journey, a journey that truly made history because, for the first time, Christianity made its way into Europe. For the early Church, Europe was mission territory, and I suppose, in some respects it still is.

Now Paul, on this journey accompanied by Silas, wasn’t looking for trouble. They just wanted to preach the Good News of Jesus Christ to both Jew and Gentile and lead both to salvation. Their first stop after crossing the Aegean, was Philippi, a city of Macedonia and a Roman colony. Philippi was populated by large numbers of retired Roman soldiers, and unexpectedly they ran into some serious trouble.

Paul had exorcised a demon who had possessed a slave girl. This angered the owner of the girl because the demon was pretty good at fortune telling, and people paid for this. As a result, Paul and Silas were arrested and attacked by a mob. The local magistrate conducted a kangaroo court, had the two missionaries stripped and beaten, then imprisoned and chained them. Not a good day.

But that night, as Paul and Silas prayed and sang psalms, an earthquake hit, opened the doors to the jail, and broke their chains. The jailer, thinking everyone had escaped, was about to kill himself when Paul stops him, “We’re all here.” Paul hadn’t escaped and had apparently convinced the other prisoners to remain as well.

It all turns into one of those wonderful events, when the Holy Spirit moves someone to faith, for the jailer asks, “What must I do to be saved?” [Acts 16:30] Paul doesn’t waste a lot of words here, and gives perhaps the shortest of homilies:

“Believe in the Lord Jesus and you and your household will be saved” [Acts 16:31].

The jailer takes them to his home, treats their wounds, listens to God’s Word, and he and his entire household are baptized.

Thinking about this remarkable event, I realized that even when we’re trying to do what we believe God wants of us, without calling attention to ourselves, sometimes it just doesn’t go well, and were rejected, even mistreated.

Paul, trying to quiet that slave girl by exorcising the demon that was creating such a disturbance, ends up getting him and Silas beaten and imprisoned. I doubt Paul regretted what he had done. After all, even if secular authority persecutes us, we must still “obey God rather than men” [Acts 5:29].

In the same way today, the entire Church, and that includes all of us, must stand tall for religious freedom, defending the Church’s right to preach the truth in the face of pressures to conform to secular values. Like Paul and Silas, we must all be willing to proclaim the Gospel, practice our faith, and teach the truth as it relates to both morality and justice. We need only trust in God, in his goodness, knowing He will turn all to good for those who love him. As Paul and Silas learned that night in the prison, in all things, our God is in charge, not us.

And as Jesus promised His disciples, He sends His advocate, His Holy Spirit, to us. It is the Spirit who will lead us, guide us, and speak and act through us…if only we will let Him. Recall what Jesus revealed of the Spirit:

“…the Spirit of truth…will guide you to all truth. He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears…He will glorify me…and declare it to you” [Jn 16:13-14].

This, brothers and sisters, is why we should always be open to the Spirit, letting Him guide us in all things. Through the Holy Spirit, we proclaim our ancient faith in the saving death and resurrection of Christ until he comes again.  

It is also why we should never despair when it seems those we love don’t respond to God’s Word. The Spirit works in His own time and His own way.

We need only trust and be faithful.

 

For Moms

Today on Mother’s Day I thank God for all the wonderful women, the mothers who have not only been a part of my life but also have a lot to do with who I am today.

The first, of course, is my mother, Martha Cavanaugh McCarthy, who died on March 12, 1977 at the age of 67. It’s hard to believe she’s been gone from us for 46 years. 

Mom married my dad on July 4, 1935, and raised two very different and difficult boys, my brother Jeff and me. But she and my dad raised us well. Any faults we developed or demonstrated later in life were all of our own doing. The photo at left was taken probably around 1930 when Mom earned her RN at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Bridgeport, Connecticut. I think she was 21 at the time.

Dad remarried to a wonderful woman named Barbara, who cared for him during his last quarter-century. He lived to a ripe age of 95, leaving us in 2005. And then my big brother, Jeff, died in 2010 at the age of 69. I guess that makes me a 78-year-old orphan, who daily asks Mom, Dad, and Jeff to intercede for me and my family. The photo below, taken in the 1950s, shows Mom and Dad enjoying a beer.

My mom's mother, who was born in Ireland in 1867, died when Mom was just 11, so I knew only one of my grandmothers, my dad's mom, Ann Moran McCarthy. Thanks to her eldest grandchild, my brother, Jeff, she became known as Grangy. I guess he had trouble saying, Grandma. Anyway, the name stuck and that's how she was known by all the grandchildren. She lived with us for several years but spent her last year in a nursing home. Born on October 19, 1877, she lived a dozen years as a widow and died in 1960 at the age of 82. She was a good woman and a wonderful grandmother, always good for a story, a laugh, and an Irish lullaby. I have only vague memories of my grandfather, mostly of visits to the Veterans Hospital where he spent his final months. Here's a photo of me, Grandpa, and Grangy, probably in 1947, when I was only three and apparently fascinated by something else.

Although I loved these women, only one mother is the love of my life, and that's my wife, Diane. We've been married for 54 wonderful years, through good times and challenging times, but no bad times. We've suffered though some sad times, but these were overwhelmed by so many times of remarkable joy. Every day has been a gift, especially that day when I saw her for the first time. It was a blind date and when she walked into her folk’s living room, I was smitten. That was on September 16, 1967. Here a photo of Diane back when we first met.

Anyway, as I recall, it took me all of perhaps ten seconds to decide I would marry her. I needed only to convince her to agree. For some reason that took her a little longer, but we finally married on November 2, 1968. 

Diane is the mother of our four children and grandmother of nine. And so, we have four more moms in the family, daughters and daughters-in-law. Our only hope is that they and their wonderful children all get to heaven. Can we hope and pray for anything better? 

Happy Mother's Day to all.