Bible Study Guide: The Book of Jonah

Oops. I inadvertently deleted the post in which I provided a link to my newly revised Bible Study Guide on the Book of Jonah. Truly inadvertent. I thought I was deleting a draft version of the post, but it turned out to be the published version. I think it was originally posted about a week or so ago.

Anyway, for those who care, you can access the guide to the Book of Jonah here: Study Guide - Jonah. 

I hope you find it of some value as you continue your study of Sacred Scripture.

God’s peace...

New Bible Study Guide: The Book of Ruth

I’ve never met anyone who didn’t enjoy the Book of Ruth, that brief gem tucked away among the early books of the Old Testament. Somehow the anonymous author managed to tell this wonderful story in only four chapters, providing a perfect tutorial for the short story writer. It’s really a love story, one that’s told on many levels. The story touches the lives of the three main characters — Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz — and their relationships with each other and with God. Ruth is one of those books that should be read every so often just to deepen your faith in God’s love for us and how He quietly steps into our lives to help us achieve the salvation He desires for each of us. As the women of Bethlehem told Naomi: “Blessed is the Lord who has not failed to provide for you today...” [Ru 4:14]

Some years ago I wrote a brief study guide combining the books of Jonah and Ruth, but recently decided to separate the two books and write expanded versions of each. I finished Jonah a few weeks ago, and finally got around to Ruth this past week. I actually wrote most of it while on vacation in Tennessee and South Carolina because crummy weather kept us inside for a few days.

Here’s a link to the revised (new and improved) study guide: The Book of Ruth

You can access all of the study guides and other documents on the Documents page of our Bible Study website.

COVID Thoughts

This post will likely bring me some grief. That’s what usually happens when I criticize the wrong folks. Fortunately I’m old enough not to care about those who disagree with me. And to be honest, I’m certain I’m right, so why should I be all aflutter about those who will certainly attack. Of course, it’s all about COVID.

COVID Thoughts. Dr. Fauci, for example, has convinced me that he has evolved from highly respected epidemiologist to his current lofty position of highly politicized creature of the Washington, D.C. swamp. At one time he might have been a wonderful research scientist, but it’s now obvious he knows absolutely nothing about how a complex free-market society functions. He also apparently knows little about basic human interactions, you know, how people relate, collaborate, learn from each other, work together, and achieve. To the renowned doctor, these basic human needs are remote abstractions that can be set aside to achieve the greater good of “fighting the virus.” I hate to tell you this, but if you believe everything this politician in doctor’s clothing tells you, you’ve been bamboozled, hoodwinked, defrauded...call it what you will. Dr. Fauci has been wrong on virtually every single issue, and when he is confronted with these errors, he just shrugs his little shoulders and presses on to proclaim his next error. Every time this “expert” opens his mouth, he just parrots what the fear-mongering politicians have already said. After all, they’re the ones who pay his $400,000 plus salary. The man hasn’t had an original thought since he became just another government bureaucrat. 

Again and again, the experts and politicians tells us to believe and follow the science. What they don’t tell us is that science is never settled. It is always a movable feast, always a dialectic, a process by which scientists strive together in disagreement and agreement to come closer to a more accurate reflection of reality, all the while knowing that future science may well change everything. This is why when Al Gore and John Kerry, whose combined scientific knowledge could be etched on the head of a pin with a jackhammer, tell us that the science of global warming is settled science, we can be certain that both are, to use a scientific term, compete jerks. 

Dear Diane and I have both had our two Maderna vaccine shots. We live in the wonderful, highly rational state of Florida. But we are now on a brief vacation in Tennessee — yes, indeed, vaccinated and full of COVID antibodies, we decided to violate CDC and Biden guidelines and actually leave our home and travel. Tennessee is obviously a far more irrational state, since its authoritative powers — or perhaps it’s just the local county health fascists — demand compliance with rules requiring masking and social distancing in some places, but permit seemingly normal interaction in others. It boggles the mind. Much like allowing close interaction in Walmart and other large corporate stores, but shutting down small businesses. Do you think, perhaps, it has something to do with political contributions?

I find similarly confusing attitudes driving our Church’s response to the pandemic. “Safety first” seems to be the primary ruling guideline when it should probably come in third or fourth. We are a Eucharistic Church. As the fathers of the Second Vatican Council declared, “The Eucharist is the source and summit of the Christian life.” And yet we are depriving thousands of the faithful from receiving the Eucharist. In our diocese we have not been able to take the Eucharist to shut-ins, those in nursing homes, or others whose need is probably the greatest. Does safety also supersede proper worship of our loving, merciful God? We celebrate Mass with tiny, socially distanced congregations while thousands more sit at home becoming estranged from the Church they believe cares little for them. And what about freedom? Does not the truth set us free? [Jn 8:32] Isn’t our freedom to worship something far greater than our physical safety? Haven’t we learned anything from twenty centuries of Christian martyrs who sacrificed everything — and, yes, including their safety — so you and I can worship God in freedom. Our bishops should be screaming to heaven, and to Washington, for the freedom guaranteed by the First Amendment of our Constitution. 

Pray for our nation. Pray for out Church.

Homily: Monday, 3rd Week of Lent

Readings: 2 Kgs 5:1-15; Ps 42; Lk 4:24-30

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How small a God do you believe in?

It’s kind of an odd question, but it’s really the question with which Jesus challenged the people of Nazareth, His hometown. When He showed up in the synagogue, they were already upset. They’d heard all about the wondrous things He’d done elsewhere and wanted Him to do the same in Nazareth. They thought they were special. Jesus, after all, was from Nazareth, and so they deserved special treatment. If Jesus were this great prophet that people were already calling Him, then why hadn’t He done anything here in Nazareth?

Of course, there was no thought of conversion, no desire to change their hearts, and repentance? Well, no need for that. No, their demand was all about entitlement, for they were a people wrapped up in themselves. Jesus looked at them and saw no humility, only pride.

Remarkably, they really exhibited little curiosity about Jesus Himself. Oh, they thought they knew Him, because He had grown up among them. But they could see Jesus only as He used to be, as the child who played in their streets. And now He’s a prophet? Well, Jesus, if you’re so great, how about proving it? Yes, they wanted some miracles too. But for the miraculous to engender faith, the heart must be well disposed.

You see, they believed in a very small god, a god of Nazareth, not the God of Creation. In a very real sense, they’d tried to create a god in their own image, and such a god must be small.

How does Jesus respond?

He reminds them how God worked wondrous miracles through His prophets Elijah and Elisha; but they were miracles aimed at those beyond the borders of Israel, at Gentiles, not Jews. For God, the true God, is the God of all Creation. He certainly isn’t a God to whom we can dictate.

With these examples from the books of Kings, Jesus reproaches His neighbors. His reproach, of course, attacks their pride. And they respond. Oh, yes, they respond with murderous intent.

Now I’ve occasionally said things in homilies to which people objected, but no one’s ever tried to kill me. But Jesus? They force Him out of synagogue and out of town, intending to throw Him off a cliff, all because He spoke the truth.

Yes, indeed, the cancel culture is nothing new. It was alive and well in Nazareth 2,000 years ago. The truth always upsets the world. To speak the truth today invites only condemnation. How much easier it is to just go with the flow, to hide the light of our faith, to hide the truth

And the truth often comes from unlikely places, doesn’t it? Like the servants of Naaman who by speaking the truth convinced the general to do what Elisha had commanded. Perhaps Naaman had a problem taking orders form others, especially prophets.

As for Jesus in Nazareth, He withdraws miraculously, leaving the people of Nazareth paralyzed in their wounded pride; perhaps even questioning: “Who is this man that we thought we knew?”

How about you? How about me? Do we believe in a little god, a subservient god, one at our beck and call, a god who does, or should do, our will.

Or do we believe in the Lord God, the God who created us out of love, who reveals Himself to us out of love, and calls us to do His will?

What about Jesus, the One the Father sent to become one of us, the One who gave His life for us, out of love? Do we listen to His Word? Do we realize He speaks to us constantly and from the mouths of the most unlikely people?

And that Cross He carries. Does He really expect each of us to carry one too? Why can’t He just make my life perfect, just they way I’d like it?

Brother, sister…Who is your God? Who is your Jesus? Have you and I created little gods, gods our minds can comprehend, little gods we can control?

Or, like the deer in the Psalm that thirsts for the stream’s running water, do we thirst and long for the God of Creation, the God of Revelation, the God of the Incarnation, the God who loves, the God who saves, the God who calls each of us to be His disciple?

You and I have to let go of our little gods and let the true God quench our thirst as He wills.

White, Male, Catholic, Deacon, American, Veteran...Prime Candidate for Cancelation

Yes, indeed, that’s me, described briefly in the title of this post. And do you know something? I’m perfectly happy and content with each and all of these broad identifiers. That’s right, it doesn’t bother me at all that I’m white and a man. And I’m grateful to have been born into a devoutly Catholic family whose ancestors courageously left Ireland in the nineteenth century and settled here in the United States of America. I am deeply humbled that God called me to the diaconate, so I could serve Him through the ministries to which He has led me. I even allow myself a bit of pride because I served my country for many years in the U. S. Navy. 

But according to the leftist, self-proclaimed judges of our culture, I’m just about the worst kind of person imaginable and a prime candidate for cultural cancellation. Yep, simply because of who I am — or in their twisted minds, what I am — I shouldn’t be permitted to utter a word, unless it’s a word of self-condemnation. To these neo-fascists of the left, a person is either all bad or all good, and we know who falls into these extreme, binary categories. 

Why am I so content with me? Let’s see...I had absolutely nothing to do with most of these identifiers. For example, my race, my sex, and my nationality were God’s decision and to reject any would be to reject God Himself. He wanted me to be an American white male and so I should be grateful for this and live my life accordingly. In the same way I encourage all to be thankful for who they are, simply because that’s they way God created them in unique acts of love. Recall those words with which God called the prophet Jeremiah:

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you [Jer 1:5].

As God reminded Jeremiah, He has a plan for each of us. God has dedicated each one of us to some divine purpose. Of course, if you don’t believe in a loving, omniscient God who takes an active role in the lives of those he created — and, believe me, these cultural arbiters don’t — you will reject such thoughts and spurn the words of the Psalmist:

Lord, you have probed me, you know me: you know when I sit and stand; you understand my thoughts from afar. You sift through my travels and my rest; with all my ways you are familiar. Even before a word is on my tongue, Lord, you know it all. Behind and before you encircle me and rest your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to reach...You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am wonderfully made; wonderful are your works! My very self you know [Ps 139:1-6,13-14].

I’ll say it again: to reject what God has created is to reject God. Glorify God for the unique person you are, for the person He made in love, the person He knit in the womb, and in prayer ask Him daily to reveal His plan for your unique life. For the same reason, glorify God for all those He has made, and pray that they, too, will come to accept His will for them. As St. Paul reminded Timothy:

This is good and pleasing to God our savior, who wills everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth [1 Tim 2:4].

The truth? That’s Jesus Christ: “I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life” [Jn 14:6]. He has shown us the Way: our Christian faith and our struggle to put it into practice by loving God and neighbor. The Truth is Jesus Himself and the Good News, the Word of God He preached. And the Life is eternal life, the salvation He wills for us. Our salvation, then, the promise of eternal life in the Presence of our God, dwarfs all the cares and worries and fears of this brief life on earth. Like most of us, I too struggle with this, but take consolation in another truth revealed to St. Paul:

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

Blessed, too, am I to have been born into a Catholic family that nurtured the seed of faith God planted within me at my Baptism. I can’t imagine living a life without the sacraments of the Church, without the Holy Spirit’s engines of grace. As for my ministry as a permanent deacon, that, too, was God’s decision, one I, at first, resisted. It hasn’t always been easy to become the servant when the world tries to lead me in the opposite direction. But God demonstrates His power in our lives, calls us to our weaknesses, and provides the grace we need to do His will. Like Our Blessed Mother, when we accept God’s will in humility, our souls will “proclaim the greatness of the Lord” [Lk 1:46]. Sometimes I feel a bit like Jonah, struggling to accept all that He calls me to do, and I usually have a pocketful of excuses to offer Him. He, of course, always wins this uneven conflict of wills.

Finally, my military background has helped to mold me into the man I am today. Like the vast majority of those who serve or have served in our armed forces, I despise war.  Although it might occasionally be necessary, the application of military power is something we should not choose capriciously. It seems only the politicians enjoy sending men and women into harm’s way, and far too often for political reasons that have little to do with national defense. I have always taken solace in Jesus’ praise of the peacemakers in the Beatitudes and His blessing of these “sons of God” [Mt 5:9]. We live in a world where evil abounds, and to reject the defense of God’s people is to me a foolish decision. 

So that’s me, folks, at least a small public piece of me. If the busybodies cancel me...we’ll, so be it. I’m not all that important. You and I and are not their primary targets. It’s God and His Church they will try to cancel, but God will have none of it. 

Sessionless Bible Study

For 15 or 16 years I've facilitated our parish Bible Study and must admit, it's been a joyful experience. But because of this pesky, and too often deadly, virus, we've been unable to come together in our weekly sessions. I'm not certain when we last met, but it must have been sometime in February or March of 2020 -- far too long ago.

Our Bible Study program, which began with fewer than a dozen active participants, grew steadily over the years and eventually included approximately 100 people. As you might imagine, because of the numbers, we had to offer more than one weekly session. When our initial Wednesday morning session had grown to about 30, I added a second session, on Wednesday evening, so participants could take their pick. This just attracted more participants and within several years, we added a third session, offering it on Monday afternoons. We were truly blessed with so many parishioners thirsting for God's Word...and then COVID came along and our meetings stopped completely. This was not a difficult decision due to the demographics of our parish. Most of us live in The Villages, a very large retirement community here in central Florida and our ages place us in a category most vulnerable to the virus and its worst effects. 

At first, not realizing how long this "new normal" would be with us, I thought we could just take a hiatus for a few months and then restart everything, perhaps in the fall of 2020. It didn't take long to realize that wouldn't happen. So I considered options. There were too many participants to offer Zoom meetings -- anyhow, just the thought of running a half-dozen or more Zoom meetings each week made me physically ill. I therefore considered other options, ways to keep the participants reading and thinking about Sacred Scripture. I finally decided on a distinctly low-tech approach and simply wrote a weekly reflection, really a kind of homily (a bit longish, perhaps) that I could email to our Bible Study regulars. I usually chose a Bible passage and attempted to apply it our current situation. These reflections seemed to be fairly well-received, so the parish suggested that I make videos of these reflections, which would be made available to all parishioners (and others) by uploading them to YouTube. I've now written 30 reflections and recorded videos of 24. I'll probably record a few more this week.

But as time went on, and I began to have hope that things might return to a state where we can again meet, I thought I'd better refocus my efforts and alter what I send to my Bible Study regulars. For years I have written what I call "Bible Study Guides," which address particular books of Scripture. Each offers only a basic introduction to a book, or portion of a book, and is designed to give participants a little background before we begin our in-depth coverage in our weekly sessions. About three weeks ago, I decided to try to write a new study guide (or revise and enlarge an existing one) and email them to all participants. When we get together once again, we can use these books as a good starting point. 

I decided, for reasons I cannot articulate, to focus on the 12 minor prophets...or at least a few of them. The first three study guides look at Amos, Micah, and Habakkuk. Amos was a rewrite of my Study Guide #7, originally written probably a dozen years ago. Micah (#39) and Habakkuk (#40) are both new.

If you're interested in reading them, here are links to PDF files of each:

Amos -- Micah -- Habakkuk

All other study guides, as well as those COVID reflections are available on the documents page of my Bible Study site: 

Bible Study Documents

I got a wee bit upset with YouTube because of its acquiescence to the rampant cancel culture, so I retaliated by canceling my personal YouTube pages and put my own videos on Rumble.com. You can access them there should you feel a need for penance.  Links to all my stuff are on the home page of my Bible Study website: 

Bible Study Home Page

The parish still maintains its YouTube site since it would be very hard for them to change given the number of folks who access parish videos.

Anyway, I hope those of you who read this blog will take time this Lent to increase your reading of the Bible to deepen your relationship with God and His Word.

 

Homily: 2nd Sunday of Lent - Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is my beloved Son; listen to him.

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

Listen to Him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is my beloved Son – listen.

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

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

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

Ready to listen and respond to His call.

Ready to put sin behind us.

Ready to name grace when we see it.

Ready to love the unloved.

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

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

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

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

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

Days that end with a moment of thanksgiving.

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

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

Do we thank Him for each other?

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

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

 

Homily: Eucharistic Adoration

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

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

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

And yet, our God created us in love…

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

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

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

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

Of course, we hear much the same from Jesus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As Jesus promises us:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Timely and Saintly Words

Struggling as so many are, dealing month after month with pandemic restrictions and separation from others, I thought perhaps we all needed some words of encouragement and even redirection. It's easy to become a bit too inward-focused as we live out this odd cocoon-like existence and find ourselves actually looking forward to Face-time calls and Zoom meetings. Yes, indeed, we could all use some words to lift up our hearts and turn those same hearts to the Lord.

Here are a few comments by saintly men and women who managed to live extraordinary lives despite the difficult challenges they faced.

“Bodily suffering makes wicked souls miserable, but borne with fortitude it purifies souls that are good.” - St. Augustine

“Make sickness itself a prayer.” - St. Francis de Sales

“He causes his prayers to be of greater advantage to himself, who offers prayer also for others.” - Pope St. Gregory I

“God’s will is as much in sickness as in health.” - St. Francis de Sales

“Rise, let us be on our way!” - St. John Paul II

“Let us throw ourselves into God’s arms, and be sure that if He wants something from us, He will give us the strength to do everything He wants us to.” - St. Philip Neri

“Nothing can happen to me that God doesn't want. And all that He wants, no matter how bad it may appear to us, is really for the best.” - St. Thomas More

"Let the brothers ever avoid appearing gloomy, sad, and clouded, like the hypocrites; but let one ever be found joyous." - St. Francis of Assisi

“It does us much good, when we suffer, to have friendly hearts whose echo responds to our suffering.” - St. Thérèse of Lisieux

"Imagine yourself always to be the servant of all, and look upon all as if they were Christ our Lord in person; and so shall you do Him honor and reverence." - St. Teresa of Jesus

“He prays best who does not know that he is praying.” – St. Anthony of the Desert

“God allows failure but does not want discouragement.” - St. Teresa of Calcutta

“Don’t become discouraged. I have seen you fight ... Your defeat today is training for the final victory.” - St. Josemaría Escrivá

“Joy, study and piety: this is the best program to make you happy, and is the one that will most benefit your soul.” - St. John Bosco

“True love is hidden in the depths of the virtues, and manifests itself in any adversity.” - St. John of the Cross

“It is proper of faith to make us humble in happy events and unperturbed in setbacks.” - St. Clare of Assisi

“Have great confidence in God: His mercy is infinitely greater than our weakness.” - St. Margaret Mary Alacoque

"Humility is the mother of salvation." -- St. Bernard

"There is no love without hope, no hope without love, and neither hope nor love without faith." -- St. Augustine

 Faith over fear! God's peace.

Bible Study Reflection #30: Wheat and Weeds

Once again, it’s back to the Gospel. This time we’ll take a look at one of Jesus’ Kingdom of Heaven parables in the Gospel According to Matthew. Our reading actually includes several of these parables, but today we’ll focus only on the first, the parable of the wheat and the weeds. I realize Jesus doesn’t specify that the farmer in the parable is growing wheat, but I’ve always like the alliteration of the words, “wheat and weeds,” so I’ll continue to make that assumption.

Before we begin our reflection, then, please open your Bible, turn to Chapter 13 of Matthew and read Matthew 13:24-43. I’ve included the passage on Page 5.

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How many sinners do we have out there? Okay, you all know the answer to that one: we’re all sinners, even those who think they’re saints. In fact, this parable of the wheat and the weeds was aimed particularly at sinners who sometimes forget they’re sinners.

Notice that our Gospel passage ends with Jesus saying, “Whoever has ears ought to hear” [Mt 13:43]. I suppose He’s telling us: “Listen up! What I have to say about all this sinfulness and saintliness is pretty important stuff.” So, let’s take a closer look at this parable and at Jesus’ explanation of it. Perhaps, then, we can correct our own inflated opinions of ourselves.

First of all, let’s you and I take on the role of one of the slaves. Now it’s not easy being a slave, always having to do what you’re told, even when you don’t understand or don’t agree with the master and his orders. But, in this instance, even though we’re slaves, we’re fortunate to have a good and caring master, one who even allows us to question what we don’t understand.

Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where have the weeds come from? [Mt 13:27]

The master explains that his enemy has tried to sabotage His work by planting weeds, by seeding the field with that which will damage the wheat and lessen the harvest.

Jesus, opening up the parable for the disciples, tells them:

He who sows good seed is the Son of Man, the field is the world, the good seed the children of the kingdom. The weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sows them is the devil [Mt 13:37-38].

…a pretty straightforward explanation, isn’t it? And the slaves, presumably, are the disciples (that’s us), those who must do the work of the master. Being good disciples, they want to do what they believe is best. Unlike those evil sinners, the saintly sinners want to make things right. They want to go out into the field right away and just rip out all those weeds, along with anything else that might get in the way.

So, there we are, you and I, God’s saintly, sinful slaves, telling Him to turn us loose and we’ll solve all His problems. Let us do it now! We’re the good guys, the good and decent people; we’re the righteous ones; we’re the ones with ears to hear.

Just look at all those weeds! What did Jesus call them? “Children of the evil one” [Mt 13:38]. You see them in the newspapers, on the web, and on TV. Why, it’s downright embarrassing. Their conduct, their ethics, their morality could hardly be any lower. And they’re out there committing all these shameful sins right there in front of God and everyone, setting a horrible example to the rest of us. There’s certainly no room for people like that in His Church. And look at the world. The weeds are taking over. Evil’s on a rampage. This can’t be the kind of world God wants. We have to do something!

It's tempting, isn't it, sometimes dangerously and tragically so, to desire a perfect world, to think that, if humanity got its act together, we could eradicate evil and create a world without imperfections. At least that’s what the politicians and the ideologues tell us. How ironic that our very imperfections cause us to think this way. And so, we end up turning the imperfect into the evil, while we hide all the real evils behind curtains of political and ideological correctness.

Abort the unwanted, purge the inconvenient, eliminate the undesirables, execute the criminals, cleanse the world of everything and everyone that’s imperfect. These, along with so many others, are the world’s solutions; they’re certainly not God’s.

God’s will is so very different, His ways so far from ours. How did He put it to Isaiah:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways – oracle of the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, my thoughts higher than your thoughts [Is 55:8-9].

In His divine wisdom He orders us to refrain from judging and purging, for He has a different plan for the salvation of humanity. He tells us to do something that from a human perspective seems downright foolish, but He insists.

“No weeding,” He orders, “not now. I’ll wait instead for the harvest, and then I’ll do the separating, not you. I will decide between wheat and weeds.”

“But there are so many weeds in the world today,” we complain, “so much evil, right here, right now — can’t we do something; can’t we do anything?”

And God says, “Yes, first of all, you can trust in Me. And you can do something else, but not the something you’d like to do, not the human something. I will judge,” He tells us, “because only I can see into the heart of each man and woman, only I can ensure a perfect yield from the harvest.”

We’ve been given a different job. “Go make disciples of all nations” [Mt 28:19], He commanded his disciples, which includes you and me. Until the harvest time we are to preach the gospel of repentance to the world…and to ourselves. And that, brothers and sisters, is hard for us to take. Why can’t we do some of that judging, that purging? Aren’t we the good ones, the holy ones?

Okay, maybe we’re not always that good or that holy. Maybe we don’t spend very much time immersed in God’s Word or deepening our prayer life – assuming we even have a prayer life. But we’re busy people and t’s hard work trying to get ahead in this world.

Maybe our faith isn’t always as alive and vibrant as it should be. Maybe our children and grandchildren, our neighbors and friends, haven’t always seen our faith witnessed in the way we live. Maybe we don’t spend much time and effort feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, welcoming the stranger, caring for and visiting the ill and the imprisoned. After all, I’ve got problems too. And I take responsibility for them; why can’t they?

Maybe we occasionally ignore those Church teachings we don’t agree with, those teachings on faith and morals and justice that are downright inconvenient. Oh, but we do attend Mass every week…well, most weeks anyway. That must count for something.

Yes, Jesus’ teaching can be a real stumbling block for us, can’t it? Much better and far more comforting to think there are just two kinds of people in the world: the real sinners – you know, the ones you see on the covers of the supermarket tabloids – and the rest of us, those of us who hardly sin at all, or whose sins are small. The bad and the pretty good. The outsiders – that’s them – and the insiders – that’s us. Those who have ears to hear and those who just refuse to listen. Those who will make it to heaven and those who won’t.

Yes, it’s easy to begin to think that way. And it’s a mistake that’s been around a long time. Back in the 4th Century there was a widespread heresy called Donatism that claimed the good seed in this parable referred to the members of the Church, and so by definition there could be no weeds, no sinners, in the Church. They believed the Church could be composed only of good people; the rest of the world was simply evil. They were a bit like the Pharisees of Jesus’ time.

It took a St. Augustine to correct them, explaining that neither humanity nor the Church can be divided into children of light and children of darkness. We still hear echoes of this ancient heresy among some Christian groups who preach a kind of exclusivity: “Are you saved? If you’re one of us, you’re OK...otherwise…well, sorry but you’re condemned.”

St. Augustine, of course, was right. We all have both light and darkness within us – the wheat and the weeds growing together. The Church, you see, is really a kind of hospital, where we can be spiritually healed and made ready for our eternal journey. It’s a place where sinners grow and change by God's grace. That growth in grace may be agonizingly slow, like grain hidden in the soil, waiting to be watered, waiting to be nourished. But in its slowness, it also imitates the patience of God. For Jesus teaches that there’s still time, there’s always time, up until the very last moment of our lives.

Of course, for those of us in the winter of our lives, it makes sense to heed the words of St. Paul:

I tell you, brothers, the time is running out…for the world in its present form is passing away” [1 Cor 7:29,31].

Just as our lives, too, are passing away.

I recall reading an article about a young gang member from a broken family — no role models, no education, no opportunities, no hope, no future. One fateful day, in a fit of uncontrolled rage, he fatally stabbed his social worker, the one person who was trying to help him. Convicted of murder, he was sent to prison for life. Now middle-aged, he’s repented, sought forgiveness from his victim’s family, finished college, and was baptized and confirmed. He’ll remain in prison because that’s where man’s justice will keep him. But today he’s nothing like the violent young man he once was and can no longer be counted among the weeds. Who would have predicted this outcome? Nobody but Jesus Himself.

As Paul reminds us, the Lord turns all things to good for those who love Him [Rom 8:28]. And so, brothers and sisters, there’s good news for us in this Gospel — really good news. We won’t be struck by lightning the moment we sin, for God responds patiently and lovingly.

How blessed we are that we can look back, recognize our past sinfulness, and be forgiven in the sacrament of Reconciliation.

How blessed we are that God is patient, that He gives us time to change, time to make amends.

If we’re truly honest with ourselves and with God, most of us will admit that we were once weeds, and some of us that we’re still weeds. We try to hide our secrets, our sinfulness, because we’re ashamed of what we’ve done. We struggle to trust others because we can hardly trust ourselves. We play games with the truth, and too easily separate our words from our actions. And there are days when we slip back into our weed-like behavior. The result, quite simply, is that it’s hard to tell the wheat from the weeds.

If you look carefully, you can find the weeds in yourself and in others. And so, we remain sinners living among sinners. But the time will come when the sorting of the weeds from the wheat will be absolute, decisive, and final. Make no mistake about it: We will all be judged. But that judgment belongs to the master alone, not to the servants. God is in charge, not us, and His judgment is nothing at all like ours -- something for which we should be especially grateful. God is both just and merciful. He’s eager to forgive and to provide us with the grace we need to overcome our sinfulness and do His will in the world. We need only ask. Yes, He’s willing to wait for our repentance, to wait until the very last moment, for His patience is almost inexhaustible. And we can thank God for that.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever.

St. Bernadette's Prayer

Yesterday I was asked by our local Marian Servants of the Word Incarnate to give a brief reflection during their online Zoom meeting. My reflection was (I think) well-received, but I was touched by the comments and questions of these women who have dedicated their lives to serving our Lord and His people. 

I'm not a regular user of Zoom -- this was just my 2nd Zoom event -- so it proved to be an interesting experience for me. I was suitably impressed, and given the times and the health concerns we must deal with today, Zoom turns out to be a remarkably effective way to "get together" without really getting together. Of course, it is only a weak substitute for meeting in community...Soon we hope we can come together again in worship, prayer, and fellowship.

Anyway, yesterday, February 11, was the Memorial of Our Lady of Lourdes who appeared to the young St. Bernadette in 1858. Since then these appearances have led to countless healings in the waters of the spring that arose during those apparitions, something that has particular meaning for our world today as so many look to God for healing. 

Before our meeting as I pondered this feast, I recalled having once encountered a prayer written by St. Bernadette, a prayer that revealed the saint's deep humility. I managed to find it again, so I thought it would be good to repeat it here:

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Prayer of St. Bernadette

O Jesus, give me I pray

the bread of humility,

the bread of obedience,

the bread of charity,
the bread of strength to break my will, and make it one with yours,
the bread of patience to bear the pain my heart endures,
the bread to see you and you alone in all things and always!

I put my hope in you, Lord. 

Be my house of refuge because you are my strength.

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In is simplicity, its selflessness, its expression of deep faith, and its complete focus on serving the Lord, it is truly a beautiful prayer. But it also shows us how this young saint took those words of Jesus' prayer -- "Give us this day our daily bread" -- and opened them to address all the needs of our lives.

Our Lady of Lourdes, pray for us.