Homily: Monday, 4th Week of Easter

Reading: Acts 11:1-18; Ps 42; Jn 10:1-10
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Today is the optional memorial of Our Lady of Fatima, and how blessed we are in this parish to have our prayer warriors who pray the Rosary together here in our Church after daily Mass.

They pray for the Church, for our parish, for the intentions of our parishioners, all in response to our Blessed Mother's hope that the Rosary will be prayed daily throughout the universal Church. In doing so, they join many other parishioners who pray the Rosary daily in their families. 

Yes, we are blessed to have them.

And because Mary appeared to three shepherd children, it's also fitting that today's Gospel passage should focus on the Good Shepherd.

We hear Jesus say many remarkable things in the Gospel, but I really think far too many Christians don't seem to believe He always means exactly what He says...even when He turns to metaphors and other figures of speech.

For example, in the verse that immediately follows our Gospel passage from John, Jesus says:

"I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" [Jn 10:11].

Now I've known only one person who could remotely be called a shepherd since he raised sheep. But I really don't think he would have sacrificed his own life for that of a lamb. For him it was simply a business and I would guess that for him an occasional lost sheep was part of the cost of doing business.

But Jesus isn't simply "a shepherd" or even "a good shepherd." No, He calls Himself "the Good Shepherd" - the one and only Good Shepherd. 

And will He really lay down His life for His sheep? Well, yes. He already did so, didn't He?  For we are His sheep; and to rescue and gather us to Himself, He paid a price, and the price was His life.

Hearing this, so many find themselves asking: Can this possibly be true? Can the Creative Word of God, the God who brought everything into existence, have such love for His creatures?

He can and He does. But not just for us as the human race, as a people, but for every single, unique one of us. 

"...the sheep hear His voice, as He calls His own sheep by name..." [Jn 10:3]

He calls us by name, every single one of us. You and I can't hide from God's love. It's simply far too great, and it reaches out to us even when we seem surrounded by darkness. It's an ineffable love, a love taken to extremes, this love of God. In fact, He takes love to such an extreme that we finally come to understand what St. John meant when he said, quite simply: "God is love" [1 Jn 4:8].

And God's love has a purpose. Recall Jesus' words:

"I am the gate for the sheep...Whoever enters through me will be saved..."  [Jn 10:7,9]

He, then, is the gateway to eternal life, to a life we cannot imagine. Here again, the metaphor describes a truth, for salvation comes only through Jesus Christ, only when we follow the Good Shepherd, only when we choose the good. In other words, He created us, not as robots programmed to respond as He desires, but in His own image and likeness, with intellect and will, able to make moral choices.

"He walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow Him, because they recognize His voice" [Jn 10:4].

To make the right choices, then, we must recognize His voice, listen to the Word, and believe in the Gospel. For like the sheep called by the shepherd, we are called by Jesus to follow:

But then Jesus says something that should cause to look more deeply within:

"I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me" [Jn 10:14].

Yes, Jesus knows His sheep, but how well do we know Him?  Do we even try to know Him, or do we simply accept what we're told and go on with our lives?

The Lateran Basilica in Rome has a remarkable and very large baptistery. And right beside the font is a statue of a deer leaning down and thirsting for a drink. Do you recall the words or today's Psalm?

"As the deer longs for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God" [Ps 42:2[.

At Easter we all renewed our baptismal promises, and were then sprinkled with the newly blessed baptismal water. Did we thirst for that water, that saving water?

...the living water that made us children of the Father?

...the living water that filled us with the Holy Spirit, "the Lord and Giver of life," the Holy Spirit Peter described in today's reading from Acts?

...the living water that cleansed us of sin?

...the living water that brought us into Christ's Church?

How did Jesus put it when He described His mission?

"I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly" [Jn 10:10]

That's what Jesus wants for you and me, brothers and sisters, what we should all thirst for: a life of abundance, an eternal life in the embrace of the Good Shepherd. We need only follow Him, loving our God and our neighbor.

Homily: Saturday, 3rd Week of Easter

Reading: Acts 9:31-42; Ps 116; Jn 6:60-69
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 "Do you also want to leave?" Simon Peter answered Him: "Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of eternal life" [Jn 6:67-68].

Yes, the Apostles stayed with Jesus, but on that day in Capernaum, after hearing these words, many of Jesus' disciples walked away, unable to accept this hard teaching on the Eucharist. And what a teaching it was...

"Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day" [Jn 6:53-54].

Jesus' words created a rift, one that today, 2,000 years later, hasn't narrowed. How sad for those who do not believe, who are unable to accept Jesus' teaching on His Real Presence. It's sad because they are unable to experience the power of the Eucharist in their lives. 

How did the fathers of the Second Vatican Council describe the Eucharist?

''...the source and summit of the Christian life" [Lumen Gentium, 11].

"The source and summit" -- that covers it all, doesn't it? Can anything be more powerful?

A deacon friend of mine, who's a chaplain at a Catholic hospital, told me about a time he was asked to give a hospital tour to a wealthy woman who had donated a substantial amount of money.

She wasn't a Catholic so when they entered the chapel, he explained the significance of the red sanctuary light and the presence of the Blessed Sacrament in the Tabernacle. She asked him if he really believed that Jesus Christ was present there under the appearance of bread.

Of course, he said, "Yes."

She just shook her head and said, "If I believed that, I'd never be able to tear myself away from this room."

Oh, yes, how we take for granted so many of the graces and blessings we receive daily from God.

It wasn't too long ago - the time of my grandparents - when it was customary for people to receive the Eucharist only on Sundays and feast days. It was St. Pius X who flung open the tabernacles of the world.

During the days of our patron, St. Vincent de Paul, there was a movement to do just the opposite: to permanently close all the tabernacles. The Jansenists of France had persuaded large numbers of people that few, if any, were worthy to receive the Eucharist. They believed, too, that Christ did not die for all, but for just a favored few.

Fortunately, St. Vincent succeeded in convincing  Rome of the dangers of this heretical doctrine. Vincent saw the value of frequent Holy Communion, even if the Church at the time did not encourage people to receive Christ's Body and Blood with the frequency it does today.

The challenge to us, who have the joy and privilege of receiving the Eucharist frequently, is to keep our souls in a sense of wonder that the Bread of Life we eat here today is the same as that given to the Apostles at the Last Supper.

How did Jesus put it?

"I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst" [Jn 6:35].

Jesus says this to each of us as we receive Him during Holy Communion. As Pope Benedict once wrote: 

"It is the Lord who receives us and assumes us into Himself."

In other words, Christ doesn't become conformed to us; we become conformed to Christ.

But there's more. Because Eucharist is a sacrament, we also receive the Holy Spirit, the soul of Christ. If we are in a state of grace, then, the Trinity dwells within. Everything's there for us. 

What a marvelous gift! And what wonders it can work in our lives! With the Author of Life within us, we have absolutely nothing to fear. Death has no power over us.

After Communion Fr. Cromwell likes to lead us in that beautiful prayer -- Anima Christi or The Soul  of Christ -- a prayer attributed to St. Ignatius Loyola, 

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.

Body of Christ, save me.

Blood of Christ, inebriate me.

Water from the side of Christ, wash me...

Yes, indeed, brothers and sisters, the Last Supper is ongoing, still sanctifying, still saving. But we must pray for open hearts, that the world will come to recognize Jesus in this wondrous gift of the Eucharist.

We should pray, too, for ourselves, that we use this gift well, and bring Christ's Eucharistic presence to others. 

Homily: Monday, 3rd Week of Easter

Reading: Acts 6:8-15; Ps 119; Jn 6:22-29
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Stephen Preaching to the Sanhedrin

Chapters 6 and 7 of the Acts of the Apostles introduce us to the person, the preaching, and ultimately to the martyrdom of St. Stephen. Because Stephen was among those first seven deacons, I've long had a particular fondness for him. But more than that...for me, tucked away today as I am in this relatively safe corner of our world, I am humbled by Stephen. 

I am simply overcome by this remarkable saint; and not just by his death, his martyrdom - which we'll hear about in tomorrow's reading - but by his life. Listen to how Luke introduces Stephen to us: 

"Stephen, filled with grace and power, was working great wonders and signs among the people" [Acts 6:8].

Now, how many of us are "filled with grace and power"? How many of us work "great wonders and signs among the people"? 

Yes, indeed, coming to know St. Stephen can be a humbling experience. But then I find myself asking, How does one come to be filled with grace and power?

We know God's grace is a gift, a powerful gift, but also a gratuitous gift; for none of us is worthy of God's grace. God certainly blessed Stephen with this gift, a gift that literally shone through his face. As Luke describes him:

"All those who sat in the Sanhedrin looked intently at him and saw that his face was like the face of an angel" [Acts 6:15]

Yes, the Sanhedrin looked intently at this angelic face, but blinded by their hatred of this new and seemingly heretical sect they couldn't accept the truth. These men, like the crowds in our Gospel passage, could not accept or even see the signs Jesus had wrought in their midst. These signs, of course, pointed to the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Ultimately they pointed to the Risen Jesus.

But the Sanhedrin were so driven by their jealousies and hatreds, just more of that same food that perishes, they not only rejected the gift that Jesus offered, but also rejected the living, risen Jesus. They simply couldn't understand why Stephen and these so-called Christians hadn't disappeared after the crucifixion. 

Instead, thousands had come to believe in the Risen Jesus. Thousands now accepted the Word of the Word made flesh as taught by His One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church. Not only had these disciples of Jesus "filled Jerusalem with their teaching" [Acts 5:28], but they had already sent the Word of God to every corner of the Roman Empire.

Indeed, the Church was Catholic - it was universal - from the very beginning, for on that first Pentecost 3,000 Jewish pilgrims were baptized, only to leave Jerusalem for their homes throughout the known world [Acts 2:9-11,41]. From the beginning, then, the Church was blessed with many Stephens.

But again, how does one come to be filled with grace and power? Jesus, of course, provides the answer.

When we do God's work in the world, He will shower us with His grace and His divine power will manifest itself and shine through us. And it all begins with our response to the gift of faith. How did Jesus put it?

"This is the work of God, that you believe in the one He sent" [Jn 6:29].

With faith, then, and only with faith, can we carry out the work of God. And to sustain and nourish us on this remarkable journey, He provides us with another gift. As he responded to those who looked for Him hoping for more bread and fish: 

"...work not for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you" [Jn 6:27].

Did you hear that? As believers in the One God sent, it is our task to work for the food Jesus gives us. And that food is Jesus Himself. Christ's Eucharistic Presence will draw the world to Him. As Jesus told the doubting crowd:

"I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst" [Jn 6:35].

God, then, will fill the faithful with the grace and power needed to do His work in the world.

But we must always remember, those great wonders and signs are God's, not ours, and they will manifest His Presence in ways you and I can never imagine.

Our reward? The answer, again, comes from Jesus:

"For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day" [Jn 6:40].

Homily: Feast of Sts. Philip and James, Apostles (May 3)

Readings:  1 Cor 15:1-8; Psalm 19; Jn 14:6-14
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As He began His ministry, Jesus chose apostles, including James and Philip whom we honor today.

We really know little about these two men, other than the fact that they were both apostles. We know almost nothing about James, son of Alphaeus. Most scholars believe he's the James of Acts who became Bishop of Jerusalem and is the traditional author of the Letter of James. And so he's often called "James the Lesser" to avoid confusing him with James, the son of Zebedee, John's brother, also an apostle and known as "James the Greater."

We know a bit more about Philip, and according to John's Gospel, he came from Bethsaida, as did Peter and his brother, Andrew. He might well have been their friend and business partner. 

"Come and see..."

Based on the few Gospel references to Philip, he seemed to be of a pragmatic, businesslike bent. For example, he didn't waste words when his friend, Nathaniel, doubted Jesus' credentials. Philip simply said, "Come and see" [Jn 1:46], and Nathaniel did just that.

And before Jesus, multiplied the loaves and fishes, He asked Philip how they should feed the crowd. Philip, the businessman, calculated what it would cost and concluded it simply couldn't be done. John then added: 

"Jesus said this to test him, because He himself knew what He was going to do" [Jn 6:6].

John really wasn't criticizing Philip. He was just reminding us that these men, who would go on to lead the Church, must accept both our total helplessness apart from God and the call to be bearers of divine power by God's gift [2 Pt 1:3-10]. 

Like his fellow apostles, Philip took a long time to realize who Jesus was. Consider today's Gospel passage. After Thomas admitted they didn't know where Jesus was going, Jesus said, 

"I am the way...If you know Me, then you will also know My Father. From now on you do know Him and have seen Him" [Jn 14:6-7].

Confused, Philip chimed in with, 

"Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us" [Jn 14:8]

And we can hear the exasperation in Jesus' words: 

"Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father" [Jn 14:9]

Again in John's gospel, Philip was the first to whom Jesus said, "Follow me!" [Jn 1:43]  How very appropriate that seems.

But is Philip really very different from you and me? He puts into words the deepest and most universal human aspiration: to see God.

"Master, show us the Father..." [Jn 14:8]

Centuries before, when Moses said, "Show me your glory, I beg you" [Ex 33:18], how did God reply? 

"I will let all my splendor pass in front of you...but you cannot see my face...I will... shield you with my hand while I pass by. Then I will take my hand away and you shall see the back of me; but my face is not to be seen." [Ex 33:19-23]

Yes, God would remain hidden, but only for a time. With the Incarnation, everything changed. "The Word became flesh" [Jn 1:14] and God is with us, sharing our human nature. And so Jesus can say to Philip: "Whoever sees me sees the Father" [Jn 14:9].

Brothers and sisters, Jesus is the face of God turned to us. We see God in him, to the very limit of our seeing [2 Cor 3:18]. 

It really means little that the lives of these men are so obscure, for it's not their personalities and backgrounds that are important. Jesus didn't look to the elite of His day when He chose His Apostles. None were particularly holy. And they certainly weren't great leaders or intellectuals. No, Jesus called this obscure group of regular guys, men with jobs, homes, and families. But when they responded, the Spirit began to conform them to the image of the One they served. And their lives would never be the same. 

It's not what they were, but what God made of them, what He did through them, that matters. Chosen by Jesus, these witnesses to His Resurrection became the foundation of His Church.

And let us never forget that Jesus told His apostles: 

"He who hears you, hears Me. He who rejects you, rejects Me" [Lk 10:16].

With these words Jesus reminds us to pay close attention to the Apostles' teaching, a teaching that continues in the Catholic Church through their successors, the Pope and our bishops.

To refuse to listen to the Church is to refuse to listen to Jesus. To reject the Church is to reject Jesus Himself.

This is the danger of the "cafeteria Catholicism" so common today. We must not pick and choose, forming our own convenient opinions regarding the tenets of our faith or the moral issues on which the Church has spoken definitively.

And as baptized believers, we share in the Apostles' calling. We, too, are commissioned to bring the light of the gospel into the world. We, too, have been "sent forth."

Like Philip and James. We have encountered the risen Christ in our lives, and are sent as witnesses to testify to the transforming power of God's love.

What God did for them and their brothers, He will do for us if only we respond in faith.

Travesty at Churchill Downs

Okay, grumble, grumble...I need to complain and express my completely unqualified opinion...so here goes.

The best horse -- the real winner -- of the Kentucky Derby was disqualified by a troika of stewards who didn't have a clue. Maximum Security crossed the finish line a length and a half ahead of Country House (65:1) who never had a chance to win. But the stewards decided that Maximum Security impeded a horse and so disqualified him, handing the win to the undeserving #2 horse. The wet, muddy track was ignored as was the fact that several other horses actually impeded Maximum Security. What a travesty! I've watched my last Kentucky Derby....at least for this year.

Homily: Easter Sunday

Readings: Acts 10:34a, 37-43; Ps 118; Col 3:1-4; Jn 20:1-9
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Happy Easter! 

Yes, it is a happy day, but on that first Easter morning Mary Magdalene was anything but happy. What was going through her mind as she walked that path in the pre-dawn darkness? Did she and other women say anything, or did they walk silently in their grief as they made their way to the tomb? I expect they said little for they were going to the tomb of a dead man, weren't they?

Mary had seen Him die. She had seen Him hurriedly placed in the tomb on the eve of the Sabbath. Mary, the Apostles --  none of them -- had understood Jesus when He spoke of His Resurrection. After all, men don't rise from the dead.

Faced with the finality of Jesus' violent death, Mary's faith and her hope had all but disappeared. Only her love remained, and her love for Jesus carried her along the path to the tomb. But when they arrived, it was open and empty.

The shock of this experience was amplified just moments later. For John tells us that Mary first encountered two angels and then the Lord Himself.

It is the risen Jesus, in the flesh, that led Mary and the disciples to realize that death had not had the last word, for the Incarnate Word, Jesus Christ, had overcome death.

Faith and hope must have exploded in their hearts. Like St. Paul in today's second reading, the meaning of this glorious event became crystal clear: they too will be united with Him in the Resurrection.

And just as suddenly, all of His teachings, every word He uttered, took on new meaning. They knew now what He meant by the Kingdom of God, for it is in their very midst, catapulted into the here and now by the Resurrection.

Matthew, in his Gospel, tells us that Mary and the women left the tomb "fearful yet overjoyed" [Mt 28:8]. Fear and joy - a rare combination of emotions that I suspect exists only in the presence of God.

Oh, they were fearful, for they had just witnessed God's awesome power, and now understood that Jesus is the Messiah, the Redeemer, the Chosen One, the Son of God. 

And they were overjoyed, for He is risen! 

Overjoyed that their trust in Jesus had not been misplaced.

Overjoyed that they, and all of us, are objects of God's overwhelming love.

Overjoyed that the tiny kernel of faith, almost lost during the dark hours after the crucifixion, has blossomed into sure knowledge of redemption.

Yes, indeed, without the Resurrection, our faith would be meaningless.

An unbeliever, dismissing the Resurrection, once approached a priest and challenged him by saying:  "People who are dead don't rise to life again."

The priest merely replied, "I do believe that was exactly the point."

Listening to Peter preach in our first reading, we come to realize it is the fact of the Resurrection of Jesus, more than anything else, that brought those first Christians into the Church. And it is the Resurrection, this sign of hope, that still inspires people to embrace Christ and His Church.

This was beautifully manifested last night at the Easter Vigil when three people were baptized, three others received into the Church, and all six were confirmed. Here in our presence and in the presence of God, they openly declared their faith, accepted the Good News of Jesus Christ, and rejected all that is evil. In a few moments you and I will do the same as we renew our Baptismal promises.

And yet when I look out from this ambo, I don't see a lot of joy. It's Easter, folks! You should be filled with joy. Let me tell you a story that might make you smile.

Indeed, whenever I renew my Easter promises I'm reminded of the story of Seamus, who'd been working as a ditch digger in Dublin when a sudden cave-in pinned him, up to his neck, under tons of debris. The rescue party quickly concluded that any attempt to dig him out would only cause the walls to crumble upon him. Seamus was doomed.

When they explained the situation to him, he wisely asked for a priest. And so Fr. Flaherty arrived and asked, "Seamus, are you ready to confess?"

Seamus said, "Well, actually, Father, I've never really been baptized. You know, Protestant mother, Catholic father - they just never got around to it."

Father said, "Oh...well, that's okay, lad, but before I baptize you, first I'll have to ask you a few questions. Tell me, Seamus, do you believe in God the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth?"

"Oh, yes, Father, with all me heart."

"And do you believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord?"

"Oh, yes, most definitely, Father."

"And do you reject Satan and all his pomps and works?"

Dead silence.

"Seamus," the good priest said, "didn't you hear me? Do you reject Satan?"

Seamus looked up at him and said, "Father, don't you think this might be a bad time to be making enemies?"

Yes, it's a very old story but I think Seamus would be comfortable in today's world, a world where the good is seen as evil and the evil as good, a world where many believe God and Satan are mere figments of the imagination.

The result? Sadly, so many people today live in a state of moral and spiritual confusion, a state that leads only to despair. For them this fleeting life is all there is. They see nothing else.  They live their lives as if God, eternal life, heaven and hell are mere words. And so they focus all their efforts on the gratification of their immediate needs and wants, satisfactions that never last.

What does all this have to do with today, with our celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus?

Well, just about everything.

For today we come face-to-face with the Risen Christ, the very source of our faith and hope - the fuel for that Christian optimism that keeps us going even during the darkest moments of our lives.

Because Jesus lives!

Unlike Muhammad, or Buddha, or Moses or Socrates or Confucius, unlike any other, only Jesus lives.

Only with the living, risen Jesus can you and I have a personal relationship.

Only Jesus lives, His glorified Body displaying the wounds of His redemptive sacrificial act.

Only Jesus, the risen Jesus, can be greeted by those words of Thomas - My Lord and my God - words that define our Christian faith.

Only Jesus, the creative Word of God, can say, "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away."

Brothers and sisters, the Resurrection is the great event of human history, the culmination of God's ongoing act of love. Greater than the creation of the universe, which cost God nothing, the Resurrection cost God dearly. And for three days we've meditated on the cost God was willing to pay.

In love we were brought into being, and in an even greater act of sacrificial love we were redeemed by God Himself.

That's why, as Christians, we proclaim Jesus Christ.

We tell the world of Him who lives.

We turn to Him in our joy and in our sorrow.

We receive from Him the gift of faith that frees us from our fears.

We look to Him. We search for His face, and we find it, because He told us where to look. Where? In every person we meet. That's where we see Jesus; for He said to us: "...whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me" [Mt 28:40]

They and Jesus are one. We and Jesus are one.

Do you see what that means, brothers and sisters?

It's why St. Paul can say, "...I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me" [Gal 2:20].

In everyone there is a vision of the risen Lord, and we, you and I, must minister to them.

For the very next person you meet, the person sitting next to you today, might be freed from despair, from the shadow of death, because you obeyed Jesus and ministered to him, because she saw Jesus in your face.

Or perhaps, in your need, in your own spiritual poverty, in your want of wisdom or hope or love, you may see Jesus' face in one who ministers to you.

This is the power of our risen Lord, Jesus Christ.

He walks with us on our journey, just as he walked with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. But He didn't leave them there on the road, did He?

No, He sat down with them. He took bread, blessed it, and broke it. He left them with the Eucharist, with food for the journey, a journey like no other.

We must never be like Seamus, up to his neck in the world's dirt, unsure of his destination.

For the Resurrection is a promise, a promise fulfilled through God's mercy and forgiveness.

If someone asks you where you're going, simply say: "I am going to a feast, with the rest of the Church. Where else should we go? It's Easter, the day of Resurrection."
Christ is risen, brothers and sisters!
All glory and power be His, through every age...forever and ever. Amen.

Video: Homily for Saturday, 3rd Week of Lent

The lovely Krysten, our parish IT genius, apparently discovered another recorded homily, one I preached at morning Mass a few weeks ago, on Saturday, 30 March 2019. She sent me the video file, so I uploaded it to YouTube and embedded it in this post (below). The text of this homily can be read here: Homily: Saturday, 3rd Week of Lent.

Notre Dame

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

And so today, after completing most of these liturgical preparations, I had intended to post a few comments on current issues facing our nation. But then this afternoon Dear Diane told me of the fire that apparently is destroying Paris' Notre Dame Cathedral. Sitting here in my comfortable easy chair, I am filled with sorrow as I watch the flames consume virtually all of this magnificent structure that has graced God's earth for almost a millennium. 

The Cathedral of Notre Dame Ablaze

Let me share with you a personal irony of sorts. On the table next to my easy chair sits a stack of about a half-dozen books I am currently reading. I suspect Diane has always considered this unusual. My guess is she would prefer I read only one at a time thus eliminating this small pile of books that disturbs her sense of order and neatness. As for me, I find my reading of multiple books comforting, allowing me to adjust my reading to my state of mind. Sometimes I need good fiction, sometimes a little theology, and sometimes a dose of history, whatever... 

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

I visited the cathedral twice, once in the summer of 1965, 54 years ago when I was a Naval Academy midshipman, and again 20 years later on a business trip in 1985. On this latter trip I took many photographs inside and outside the church -- all Kodachrome slides -- but the Kodak processor somehow managed to destroy many of the photos, leaving me with only a few dozen slides from the many rolls of film I had taken. But at least I have these few, even though most of them were also badly processed. In reparation, I thought Kodak should finance a return trip to Paris, but no, they decided an apology and five or six new rolls of film were sufficient. 

One of my few photos of Notre Dame (1985)

Like many of Europe's great cathedrals, Notre Dame is filled with magnificent works of art. On that first visit in July 1965, my 20-year-old predecessor was touched most deeply by a beautiful Medieval sculpture in wood. It depicts St. Thomas, the doubter, as he places his hand in the wound in the side of the risen Jesus. Gazing at the sculpture those many years ago, I could hear Thomas' words calling to us and echoing through the ages: "My Lord and my God." 

Thomas and the risen Jesus

The memory of this sculpture hit me today as I realized it had likely been destroyed. This was followed by the thought that Thomas might actually foreshadow today's Western Europe, a collection of nations that has largely rejected its Christian roots and lost its faith in a cloud of self-absorbed, fact-seeking, materialistic doubt. 

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

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

Homily: Saturday, 4th Week of Lent

Readings: Jer 11:18-20; Ps 7; Jn 7:40-53
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"Never before has anyone spoken like this man" [Jn 7:46].

Hearing those words brought to mind someone I first met over 60 years ago. I think it was my first week of high school, and to get there I had to take a train for a few miles, and then a 6-mile bus ride with lots of stops. It took a while.

Bus - Westchester County NY

That morning, when I got on the bus, this kid sat down next to me. Like me I guess he was a little nervous, and so for a while neither of us said much, but he seemed kinda nerdy...not that I wasn't. He was an Italian kid from the tough town and I was an Irish kid who lived in a slightly ritzier town. I sized him up and decided we had little in common, and I should probably seek friendship elsewhere.

Then he told a joke, and another, and another, and had me crying with laughter all the way to school. Yes, indeed, I'd never heard anyone speak like that before. And you guessed it: we became lifelong friends. Today he lives in Jersey and we had another long phone call just a few nights ago.

Reading today's Gospel passage brought him to mind, and made me realize how wrong I can be when it comes to first impressions. And usually the error is rooted in me, not in the other. I had sized up my friend in a few minutes, pretty much all based on my personal biases. I suppose I was a little snob, but my friend, John, and many others have cured me of that fault.

I was like the Pharisees who, knowing little about Jesus, dismissed Him as a nobody; but a dangerous nobody, a threat to their own authority. Without having heard Jesus speak, without having heard His words, they rejected the Word of God. This, of course is exactly what Nicodemus tried to tell them.

"Does our law condemn a man before it first hears him and finds out what he is doing?" [Jn 7:51]

Nicodemus, too, was a Pharisee, but he had taken the time to seek out Jesus, to question Him, to listen to Him, to see if He spoke the truth. And it was to Nicodemus that Jesus first spoke those words of redemption:

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life" [Jn 3:16].

Sadly, though, most of the Pharisees, like that younger me, were a bunch of snobs. You can almost hear them, can't you? This Jesus? He's from Galilee, a nobody from nowhere. How had the Apostle Nathaniel put it?

"Can anything good come from Nazareth?" [Jn 1:46] 

Even a soon to be Apostle can be a bit of a snob.

"Never before has anyone spoken like this man."

Isn't it interesting that so many of the people who encountered Jesus, even the Temple guards, who'd been sent to arrest Jesus, actually listened to Him, and realized they'd heard the truth?

"Never before has anyone spoken like this man."

What a remarkably courageous thing to say, knowing how much the chief priests and the Pharisees, despised Jesus.

What about us? Do we have the courage to speak out for our faith, to proclaim Jesus as Lord when He is under attack, as He is in our world today?

The world really hasn't changed all that much, has it? The Word of God causes division today just as it did in Jerusalem 2,000 years ago. 

The prophet Jeremiah encountered the same kind of division centuries earlier, when all the important folks plotted against him, just as their successors would plot against Jesus.

Remember how Simeon had revealed to Mary that Jesus would be "a sign that will be contradicted" [Lk 2:34]?

"a sign that will be contradicted"

And how many ignored Jesus, the sign God had sent, the sign of the Father's overwhelming love, and instead contradicted? 

Jesus' deeds both amazed and provoked, and His words affected all who heard that call to conversion: 

"Repent and believe in the Gospel" [Mk 1:15].

Some responded with hatred, some turned away unwilling to accept God's grace and the changes it demanded, but others underwent a fundamental, transformative change of heart. 

Brothers and sisters, Jesus never stops calling us to conversion: to repent and trust in His mercy; to love God with all our being; to love our neighbor as we love ourselves; to speak always as Jesus spoke, in the language of the Father's love.

As we move through these last days of Lent, you and I must listen and respond to that call. We have to choose because God never wants to force Himself on us. He simply looks on us with love and lets us make the choice [See Mk 10:21].

So today, let's all open our hearts to Jesus, and listen to the One who speaks as no one else has ever spoken. Let His Holy Spirit fill us with the humility and repentance God asks of us. 

Homily: Monday, 4th Week of Lent

Readings: Is 65:17-21; Ps 30; Jn 4:43-54

A few weeks ago, right after a Saturday morning Mass, we experienced a time of prayer and healing right here in our church. My wife, Diane, and I made up one of the many prayer teams that were available to pray with those who entered this church that morning in need of God's healing presence in their lives and in the lives of those they love.

Now I can't speak for the other teams, but I expect their experiences mirrored ours as we listened and prayed and shared God's overwhelming love, His forgiveness, His mercy. 

Of course many of those who were here that morning were experiencing deep suffering in their lives - physically, emotionally, spiritually - and they came humbly seeking God's help.

I'm always impressed by the extraordinary humility and faith of all who come to this healing service, driven by hope and willing to accept God's will. I'm impressed because their faith and humility are so much greater than my own, and it would be more fitting if the roles were reversed.

But there's something else. So many, despite their own suffering, come to us not just for themselves but for others. They come in prayer, in hope, in faith asking God to extend His healing presence to family, friends, neighbors, to those in need.

In today's Gospel passage we encounter another who comes to Jesus hoping for healing, not for himself but for his son. Probably an official of the court of Herod Antipas, he had traveled 20 miles from his home in Capernaum to find Jesus in Cana.

"Sir, come down before my child dies."

As John tells us, the official approached Jesus and  "asked him to come down and heal his son, who was near death" [Jn 4:47]. Did he assume that because he was an important official Jesus would simply drop everything and do as he asked? And did he think that Jesus had to make that trip in order to heal his son? If so he was in for a surprise, wasn't he?

Jesus actually seems a bit exasperated by it all, doesn't He? And He gives a rather sharp reply:

"Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe" [Jn 4:48].

Was this rebuke directed solely at the official, or was it also aimed at the people of Galilee in general? Probably a little of both.

But the official accepts the rebuke. And humbled by Jesus' words, he doesn't allow himself to become discouraged. Moved by love for his son, he now pleads for help:

"Sir, come down before my child dies" [Jn 4:49].

Humility succeeds where arrogance had failed, and Jesus replies simply: 

"You may go; your son will live" [Jn 4:50].

Hearing these words, John tells us, the man now understands. He believed the Word of Jesus and departed on his journey home. But he had to be moved to faith, didn't he? His hope for his son's healing led him to Jesus, but it was the Word that brought him the gift of faith.

It's interesting, though, that on the way home, he meets his servants who tell him his son lives. He has been healed. That should have been enough for him, but perfect faith is never easy, is it? And so he asks exactly when his son recovered. The answer, of course, confirms the truth and as John tells us, with that "he himself believed, and all his household" [Jn 4:53].

Yes, sometimes God has to lead us to faith, one small step at a time, so we can request good things from God.

Jesus is present here today just as He was 2,000 years ago in Galilee. And it is through His healing Presence in the Eucharist that we too share in the divine life.

Christ's Healing Eucharistic Presence

Perhaps, like the court official in the Gospel, we should measure ourselves against Jesus' rebuke. 

Do you and I need signs and wonders before we're willing to believe the Word of God?

Is our prayer filled with our own demands or do we turn to God in humility..."Thy Will be done..."?

Any child will be happy to tell you that we are surrounded by signs and wonders, all pointing to God's presence...just as he will tell you that God, like a loving parent, will take care of you.

We are so blessed, but so often we don't know it.