Homily: 11 Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year B)

Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers here this evening.

Some of us were blessed to have strong, loving, and faithful fathers, men who struggled to support and lead their families through what were often difficult times and circumstances.

We remember, too, that no man is perfect and most of those imperfections are mere pieces of our humanity. 

And so, we thank God for all fathers, living and dead, and prayerfully lift them up to the Lord.

Now let’s turn to our readings...

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Readings: Ez 17:22-24; Ps 92; 2 Cor 5:6-10; Mk 4:26-34

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What is this “Kingdom of God” about which Jesus always speaks?

Most of us tend to associate worldly kingdoms with places, but God’s Kingdom is not a place like the United Kingdom, or even The Villages. And contrary to the advertising, The Villages is not paradise.

Perhaps a better translation of God's Kingdom is, “The Reign of God.” Fortunately, Jesus tells us a lot, so if we listen to Him, we can learn something about God’s reign.

He tells us it’s near and to pray for its coming. And in parables He tells us what it’s like: like leaven, a pearl, a net, hidden treasure, and even a mustard seed. He compares it to a landowner and a king. But He doesn’t explicitly tell us what it is, does He? What exactly is this Kingdom, this Reign of God?

Back then, some people thought they knew. For the Pharisees it was strict adherence to Mosaic Law. The Zealots, the Jewish revolutionaries of Jesus’ time, thought of it as an earthly kingdom to come, ruled by God. The Essenes, ascetic Jews, had withdrawn into the desert to await the Kingdom, the end of the world…and then what? They weren’t really sure.

Yes, they all saw the Kingdom differently. But hundreds of years earlier, through Ezekiel, both priest and prophet, God spoke His Word to His people, also in a kind of parable. God gave them a hopeful glimpse of His Reign using the metaphor of a tender shoot planted on a mountain – where “it shall put forth branches and bear fruit, and become a majestic cedar.” In that Kingdom, God tells us, He will bring low the high, and will lift high the lowly. Who knew that the tree was a Cross on the hill of Calvary, lifting high the fruit of salvation?

Note Jesus’ very first words in Mark’s Gospel:

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

These are important words. After all, they’re the first words He preaches in His public ministry. So, what do they tell us?

Well, one word jumps out at us: the world “Repent!” John the Baptist used it often as he roamed about Judea preparing the people for Jesus’ coming. And Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, told the Jews gathered in Jerusalem from all over the world, “Repent and be baptized…”

In the original Greek New Testament, the word is metanoia, meaning repentance, a change of mind. “Repent,” then, is a pretty good translation: to repent, to re-think, to think again, to think differently. Jesus, John, and Peter are all telling us to change, to undergo inner change.

In past earthly kingdoms, the King’s subjects served him, and paid him homage and obeisance. Applying this to God’s Kingdom, we are called first, to turn away from ourselves, and turn to God. We use the word “conversion,” which has its roots in the Latin word meaning, “to turn around.” True repentance, then, is a complete change of thinking, a turning around of mind and heart.

St. Paul expresses this same idea when he writes:

“…put away the old self of your former way of life…and be renewed in the spirit of your minds” [Eph 4:22-23].

Because our God is Who He is, in that turning we find the answers to all that we seek: peace, freedom, justice, forgiveness, true happiness, eternal life. These answers don’t come from the world, a world in which everything passes away. No, they come only from God, from the Father, the source of all that is good. 

And this, brothers and sisters, is the Good News. The Kingdom is near; God’s reign is near. Because the Risen Jesus is here, so too is the Father, and the Holy Spirit who does God’s work in the world. The invitation to the Kingdom is extended to everyone. Jesus opens the gates of His Kingdom to all of us, no matter our sins.

We need only “repent, and believe in the Gospel” – conversion and faith. We need only turn around, away from our sinfulness and to our loving Father. The Father’s kindness, His forgiveness, His love for each of His children knows no limits. As Jesus told us:

“…seek His kingdom, and these other things will be given you besides [Lk 12:31].

Again, this is the Good News: the coming of God’s Reign is Jesus’ revelation that God is love. But we’re not called simply to sit back, bask in God’s love, and enjoy the view. No, we’re all called to take that love to others, to be “God-bearers”, to be heralds of the Kingdom.

Whether you’re retired or work for a living, you might be thinking, “Wait a minute. This is God’s Kingdom we’re talking about, and I’m just one person tucked away here in central Florida.” You and I might not know the fulness of God’s plan for us, but we’re not called to sit on our hands.

Just consider the mustard seed in today’s Gospel. Small, insignificant, and yet it’s a seed, filled with potential. It need only be planted in the earth. Watered and nurtured by God’s gifts of rain and sunlight, the tiny seed becomes a plant so large the birds dwell in it.

In a sense, our Gospel takes us back to Genesis, when God took a piece of earth, and breathing His Spirit into it, created Adam. One meaning of the Latin word humus is earth. Yes, we are human, from humus, created from the earth. And God plants that tiny seed in the earth, in you and me, where it’s a living sign of the Kingdom to come.

God does all the work to make it grow. We need only turn to Him and accept it. We need only repent, walk by faith as Paul instructs us, place our trust in Him, and allow the Spirit to work within us. He will turn that seed of faith into something wondrous, something beyond our comprehension.

In one of his books, Pope Benedict wrote about the Kingdom present in three different ways.

It is present in Jesus Himself. Jesus is the Kingdom; He is God’s presence among us. It is also a reflection of God’s reign within us, in our inner being, growing and reaching out to others. Finally, the Kingdom is expressed in the Church, its continued presence in history’s time and place. And often, we see it manifested in all three dimensions.

When I was lad, a blind man in our town had a shack, a newsstand, near the railroad station. He sold newspapers, magazines, cigarettes, and candy. In those days, long before political correctness, everyone just called him Blind Joe. He didn’t mind. In fact, the sign over his shack read, “Blind Joe’s.”

One winter day his space heater shorted and caused a fire that destroyed the shack. Joe lost everything. But the very next day one of our parishioners provided all the funds to rebuild the newsstand and recruited a local builder to do the job. Within three days it was rebuilt and restocked with all new inventory. It must have cost several thousand dollars, a lot of money back in the fifties. An anonymous gift, even Joe didn’t know who the donor was. Only our pastor and a few others, including my dad, knew. And Dad never told me. 

A local reporter interviewed Joe, and asked him, “What do you think of the men who did this for you?” Joe just said, “I thank God for those men, but it was really Jesus.”

With those words Blind Joe echoed the psalm we just sang, “Lord, it is good to give thanks to you,” and then proclaimed the meaning of the kingdom. Yes, it’s Jesus, His Reign in the world, manifested through you and me. As a living sign of the Kingdom of God, that parishioner, and the others who helped him, did the work of the King, the work of Jesus Christ. The reign of the living God was present within them.

You see, brothers and sisters, the Kingdom is you and I; and Christ is our King. The Kingdom is what we are, the Church, taking Jesus Christ into a world that needs Him so very badly today.

May the peace of the Kingdom be with you all.

 

Homily: Friday, 10th Week in Ordinary Time (Year 2)

 Readings: I Kgs 19:9a,11-16; Ps 27; Mt 5:27-32

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A few days ago, as I read today’s readings, I found myself recalling many of the conversations I’ve had with atheists and agnostics over the years. In almost every one of those conversations I could detect a subtle, but very real, hope that God does exist. As one young self-declared agnostic said to me, "It would certainly make life more understandable, knowing there’s a God behind all this. As it is now, for me, life is pretty meaningless.”

Yes, without God, life becomes meaningless, just a physical, chemical accident. And yet that hint of hope has always been there. It’s really the same desire expressed in today’s psalm, a Psalm of David, sung 3,000 years ago:

I long to see your face, O Lord.

We all seek God, to see Him, to as know Him, and it’s true even for those who don’t believe in Him. As my mom use to say, “Hope can lead us to faith; otherwise, we’re just consumed by fear.”

Perhaps St. Augustine, who took a rather odd, winding path to the Catholic Church, put it best: “…our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

Yes, we’re all on a pilgrimage, brothers and sisters, even those who aren’t fully aware of it. We can wander aimlessly, achieving little, or we can open our hearts to the Spirit and let Him lead us.

A few weeks ago, in one of our Bible Study sessions, a participant, concerned about a tragic event described in Genesis, asked me: “Why would God do that? Why would He let that happen?” Well, we discussed the event hoping to achieve some understanding of God’s purpose. But in truth, what I wanted to answer him with: “How do I know? I’m not God!”

That’s really not a bad answer. So often, we simply underestimate our all-powerful, all-knowing God, whose ways are so far above us. As the Archangel Gabriel said to our Blessed Mother: “nothing will be impossible for God” [Lk 1:37]. I suppose the question for us is do we believe that? Or are we like Peter when Jesus rebuked him:

“You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do” [Mt 16:23].

Just consider Elijah in today’s reading. Hunted by enemies who sought his death, in particular a rather evil queen Jezebel, Elijah seemed to have had enough, enough of everything, enough even of life. He actually hoped to die. But fed by angels, he obeyed God and made his way to Horeb, God’s holy mountain. There, God asked him:

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

The prophet, zealous and faithful, told the Lord what He already knew “I alone am left, and they seek to take my life.” He was afraid and alone. So, God put on a remarkable display of His power. Then, when the noise and violence had ceased, Elijah encountered the God of Creation – as one translation put it – in a “sound of sheer silence.”

God passes by like a soft breeze and the man covers his face because God has not yet become man. Only then will we see Him in the flesh, face to face. And only then will we adore Him as well in the gift of His Eucharistic Presence. And that’s what the world needs today. With senses inundated by the noise of this world, how can people recognize Him as He passes by? How can they see His face or hear the sheer silence of His holy Word?

Elijah Hides His Face

Elijah, whose faith was beyond question, was often left in the dark by God. Yet the Spirit was always there, leading and aiding the prophet as he tried to accomplish all these missions he’s been given. God expects obedience, and in a sense says: “Just do what I say, and I’ll handle everything else.” For Elijah, God’s immediate purpose becomes clear over time. But His ultimate purpose looks ahead 1,000 years, pointing to something new and wonderful: humanity’s redemption by Jesus Christ.

How about us? Are you and I prophets? Are we courageous enough to evangelize, to be God’s messengers, to speak His Word to the world? Yes, we’re called to do just that. But like Elijah and Jesus we face a culture, a culture of death, that screams its lies at us.

In our Gospel passage Jesus gets the attention of the crowd with His vivid images of plucking out eyes and cutting off hands. He’s not encouraging bodily mutilation, but He is he’s telling them: this is serious stuff; pay attention.

Then stressing the sixth commandment, Jesus really addresses the dignity of every person, the respect people should have for each other. We cannot simply use others for personal pleasure or to satisfy appetites. For Jesus is really addressing the nature of love, which is not just an emotional feeling, or a physical attraction. As anyone who’s been married a while realizes, true love demands a continual decision.

In contrast to today’s cult of self-absorbed pleasure seeking, the Gospel sets high standards. Not only does love demand faithfulness but it also calls us to be chaste in both thoughts and actions. Interesting too is that Jesus puts men and women on a morally equal level, which later causes some dismay among His disciples.

Today we often encounter the painful breakdown of marital relationships. While each case must be treated with pastoral sensitivity, we cannot neglect the fundamental values Jesus stresses here.

I suppose it’s all encompassed in Jesus’ first words of His public ministry:

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

Yes, indeed, we must change our hearts and minds, and accept the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ in our lives.

Homily: Mass and Healing Service

Yesterday evening our parish celebrated Mass followed by a healing service. We had a good crowd of folks who sought healing for themselves and for others. My homily follows. 

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Readings: 2 Tim 2:8-15 • Psalm 25 • Gospel: Mk 12:28-34

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Good evening, everyone. Praise God. Praise Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

And thank God for His Presence here tonight, and especially for His Holy Spirit Who does God’s healing work in the world.

You know, when you read the four Gospels carefully, you soon come to realize that Jesus actually healed thousands of people during His public ministry. We’re told very little, almost nothing, about the vast majority of these healings. We’re simply told that Jesus cured everyone who came to Him...and that, again and again, He spent hours healing those who suffered from every kind of disease or disability, giving sight to the blind, freeing others from evil spirits. This steady crowd of people came to Jesus in their sufferings, or they took others to Him, and He cured them all.

And yet the Gospel provides details on just a few of these healings. In almost every instance, these healings, these details reveal something important about the human condition, about faith, about God’s love for us and the response He expects from us. 

In a sense, these physical healings are almost byproducts of something far greater. They are signs pointing to the deeper spiritual needs of all those who come to Jesus. They also point to the gift of faith God offers to each of us, to the depth of His love for us, and to need for a response. And that response is beautifully described in today’s Gospel passage from Mark.

Mark tells us of a scribe who comes to Jesus with a question. It’s no secret that many scribes and Pharisees were very hostile to Jesus. This is evident throughout the Gospel. But not every scribe and Pharisee. John, for example, tells us of Nicodemus, a Pharisee who came to Jesus seeking the truth. 

And in today’s passage the scribe who approached Jesus seemed anything but hostile. Was he, like so many others, simply testing Jesus, seeing if He would say something that could be used against Him later? It doesn’t seem so. Indeed, he seems to be honestly seeking the answer to a question that centers on a subject of real disagreement among learned Jews. He asks Jesus: “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jewish Law included over 600 commandments. Which of these was “the first,” the most important?

Without hesitation Jesus goes deep into the Torah. He turns to chapter 6 of Deuteronomy and to a key portion of the Shema, the very centerpiece of Jewish prayer, and replies:

“The first is this: Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.”

But Jesus doesn’t stop there. He then turns to Leviticus, chapter 19, and adds another:

“The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

The scribe seemed pleased with the answer and expressed full agreement. Our Lord, in turn, tells the scribe: “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.”  Did this scribe become a disciple? Mark doesn’t tell us, but I’ve always believed he did.

By including two commandments in His answer, Jesus reveals that the two are inseparable.  Yes, loving our God is first, but we must also love our neighbor, made in God’s image and likeness. Jesus later refined this law, making neighbor all-inclusive, as described in His parable of the Good Samaritan. We are called to love, to love everyone, and to ensure we understand, Jesus offers His life for us, for all of humanity, on the Cross.

This, then, is what God expects of us.

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s friends.” [Jn 15:13]

Isn’t it wonderful how God likes to keep things simple, especially the truly important things. If you want to complicate something, just give it to a human, and you can be sure we'll make it unintelligible. God, on the other hand, tells us, “Just do this and all will be well: Love God and love each other.”

I said it was simple, and it is. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Yes, indeed, it’s hard to focus all our attention on God and neighbor when we’re so wrapped up in ourselves. So, then, what does all this have to do with healing? Actually, quite a lot.

Many of you are here tonight to seek healing. Some seek physical healing because you’re suffering from a life-altering illness or disability. Others are here to plead for the healing of another, whether physical, mental, spiritual or all three. Some of you may be suffering through a spiritual crisis and seek the grace to resolve it. We’re come here this evening for a variety of reasons, but every single one of us needs healing of some sort.

That leads to my central theme: the merging of healing and love. I think this merger was best described by that great American storyteller, Flannery O’Connor. She was a Catholic girl from Georgia, who wrote remarkably unforgettable short stories and novels of sin, repentance, forgiveness, and salvation. She died in 1964 at the age of 39 after a battle with lupus that lasted her entire adult life. But in the midst of it all, she wrote:

“You will have found Christ when you are concerned with other people’s suffering and not your own.”

Yes, as I said earlier, love is simple, but it ain’t easy. For example, how many of you, right now, are pleading with God to heal those seated all around you tonight? I know, it’s not easy to look beyond oneself when you’re really hurting.

Some years ago, while making my rounds as chaplain of the day at The Villages Hospital, I entered the room of one of our parishioners. A widower with a serious illness, he was lonely and afraid. As I prayed with him for healing, he didn’t seem all that comfortable with the whole process. His expression gave it away -- one of those "waste of time" looks. Anyway, before leaving I gave him a blessing and told him I’d add him to the parish prayer needs list. “Oh, no,” he said. “I don’t want people to know I’m sick. I’d like to keep it quiet.”

Now Diane and I usually ministered together as co-chaplains, but she couldn't join me that day. As expected, without her to stop me, I did something dumb.

“Oh, okay,” I said and left his room.

After visiting a few more patients, I entered another room to find it crowded with visitors. I said I’d return later, but the patient, an elderly woman, said, “Don't leave. Come on in and join the crowd.” So, I did. And it certainly was a crowd: family, neighbors, members of her Baptist church, her pastor...and now me.

Introducing herself, she laughed, “I’ve got so many things wrong with me, they don’t know where to start. But I can’t complain; God’s let me live a lot longer than I ever expected.” I asked if I could pray with her, and the whole crowd joined hands. We prayed for healing and peace, for doctors and nurses. We thanked God for friendship and for the gift of discipleship, for those who listen to the Lord when He says, “I was…ill and you cared for me…”

Before leaving, I remarked that she was blessed to have so many people caring and praying for her. “Yes,” she said, “I am blessed. Their prayers let me know that I am loved, that I belong.”

Listening to her I was reminded of Simone Weil, a brilliant, young French philosopher, who escaped from the Nazis. She once wrote:

“Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude.”

Yes, two very different people, Simone Weil, born Jewish, but Catholic by conviction, who died in exile in 1943 at the age of 33; and this 91-year-old Baptist woman in central Florida – and yet they both came to know and accept this truth about the love of God.

When I left her room, I returned to the room of our parishioner, and sat down next to his bed, and said something like this:

You are lonely and afraid. But God wants you to love and be loved. He wants you joyful, even in your illness, not fearful. Don’t let pride separate you from others. Baptism made you an adopted child of the Father, a member of the Church, the community of the faithful. The prayer of that community brings healing and the joy promised by the God who loves you. By letting the parish community pray and care for you, you further God’s plan for their salvation and that of the world.

Anyway, after my little Spirit-inspired homily, he agreed to be prayed for. As I left, I asked him to pray for Alice, the Baptist woman down the hall. He looked confused, so I said, “Just pray for her. Her joy will bring you healing.” 

And I think of these two patients now as I stand here before this community of the faithful. We are gathered in communion, gathered in Jesus’ holy name, in His Eucharistic presence; and through that communion we are graced with healing today.

Accept God’s presence here. Don’t resist the Spirit. Let Him move where He wills within you. Open your heart to Him today. For it’s through the Spirit, through Him alone, that you will receive the healing God wants for you, that you will come to know God’s will for you.

God’s command to love God and neighbor, calls you and me to be both healed and healer. Yes, indeed, each of us is called to be a healer in need of healing. Pray for all these others, here and elsewhere, who seek the healing power of God. And realize, God always heals the human spirit first. In our sinfulness we need healing of the soul, for only that can bring us eternal life.

What does our love for God and neighbor yield? St. Paul said it best in perhaps his most famous words:

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

God 's peace.

Suffering, Some Thoughts

I trust the title of this post won't be taken the wrong way, leading some to believe that my offering of a few thoughts will result in suffering for both you and me. At least, I hope not. No, at Mass this morning, as I proclaimed the Gospel, my aging brain entertained a few thoughts about suffering that I'd like to share. They're really nothing new or radical; they're just things I've come to understand and eventually accept as I approach ever closer to the end of this most wonderful of God's gifts, the gift of life.

The Gospel reading, from Mark 10, has always been a favorite because it focuses on that remarkable encounter between Jesus and Bartimaeus, the blind man of Jericho. Bartimaeus had suffered. After all, he was blind in a society totally lacking in resources to help him cope with his disability. Things are thankfully different today, but the visually impaired still suffer in a world centered on those with sight. But in the first-century Roman Empire, the blind, unless they came from a wealthy family, usually became beggars. The blind, the deaf, the crippled -- indeed, most people with serious disabilities -- were almost entirely dependent on others. Unable to support themselves through work, they were totally dependent on their families or the charity of those who passed by. Since Mark reveals that Bartimaeus is the son of Timaeus, we can assume his parents cared for him. And yet, given the times in which he lived, I think we can say that Bartimaeus suffered.

Now, what do I know of suffering? Of physical suffering, very little. Here I am, just a few months from my 80th birthday and I've been hospitalized only once, thanks to appendicitis at the age of ten. Other than that memorable experience, I've remained in disgustingly good health ever since. Have I suffered in other ways? Yes, but no more than most people my age and far less than many. But this isn't about me. It's about so many good people I know who have suffered deeply, but so often quietly.

When we consider Bartimaeus, we find a man who had likely been blind since birth, was forced to beg at the city gates of Jericho, and yet never gave up hope. He knew that the God of Israel heals, and such healings often come through the word and touch of holy men sent by God Himself. He had obviously heard of Jesus for the news of His acts of healing couldn't be suppressed. Sitting at the gates, Bartimaeus would have heard this and so much more about this man from Nazareth. Hope, then, filled his heart and when he was told of Jesus' presence, hope was joined by faith. My mom used to say, "Hope, once it fills the heart, drives us to faith." And so, hopeful Bartimaeus, once he experiences the Presence of Jesus, cries out in faith, “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me.”

He continues to shout his plea to Jesus and, despite the condescension of the less-than-merciful disciples, gets Our Lord's attention. Jesus calls him. Bartimaeus, now filled with faith, leaps to his feet, discards his cloak, the sign of his beggary, and no doubt filled with the Holy Spirit, ran directly to Jesus. 

Note that his response to Jesus' question is “Master I want to see." Yes, it's a plea focused only on himself, but it's a faith-driven, fervent plea, and Jesus heals because, "Your faith has saved you." Now isn't that interesting? Bartimaeus begs for sight, and he receives it, but Jesus' real gift, the gift He proclaims, is the gift of salvation that stems from this man's faith.

But even more interesting is Bartimaeus' response to Jesus' command, "Go your way..."  What was Bartimaeus' "way"? To go home to his parents, to share the good news of his healing with his father, Timaeus? To celebrate with the people of Jericho who had long known the blind beggar at the gates? Apparently not, for Bartimaeus chose a different path. This healing had done far more than heal him physically. It had changed him in his very being. For now, this new man of God, would follow the Lord on the road to Calvary. He would follow "The WAY" to the salvation promised by Jesus. 

I've mentioned this many times in the past, but I'll say it again: Flannery O'Connor is among my favorite writers. She was a very Catholic, but very downhome girl from Georgia, and if you've never read her, do so. She writes remarkable, and truly unforgettable, stories of sinfulness, repentance, grace, forgiveness, suffering, and salvation. And boy oh boy, did she certainly understand suffering. Although she suffered from Lupus her entire adult life and succumbed to the disease at the age of 39, she considered her suffering a blessing. As she once wrote to a friend:

"Sickness before death is a very appropriate thing and I think those who don’t have it miss one of God’s mercies.”

As I said earlier, I've experienced little physical suffering, but I've spent a lot of time with those who have. I've prayed with and for them, and sat with them at their bedsides, where we joked, laughed, and cried. I've held shaky hands and hugged tired bodies. I've been with them during their last moments, brought Jesus to them in His Eucharistic Presence, and tried to help them reach out in peace to a loving, merciful Lord.  

Yes, they have suffered. But they have also been healed of the cares and worries and sins they carried with them. For as St. Paul reminds us:

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

Yes, indeed, He calls us according to His purpose, not ours.

Let me share just a couple of other things Flannery O'Connor taught me and others about sufferings and healing.  

"You will have found Christ when you are concerned with other people's suffering and not your own."

...and then this:

"This notion that grace is healing omits the fact that before it heals, it cuts with the sword Christ said He came to bring."

I think both of these observations are worthy of our meditation.

God's peace...

Homily: Pentecost Vigil

Readings: Joel 3:1-5; Ps 104; Rom 8:22-27; John 7:37-39

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Back at the turn of the millennium I happened to catch a TV news show in which the host asked an historian to name the most important people in human history. I can't recall the historian’s name, but he made a point of calling himself an agnostic. And then he said something rather remarkable.

"As an historian," he said, "I’d have to say that the most influential person in human history was Jesus Christ. The problem is, I can't understand how he came to be so influential. He was really a nobody, tucked away in a little corner of the world. He didn't write anything. He didn't go anywhere or do anything very important. He was executed for treason. And his followers? Just a handful of simple peasants. He should have been forgotten in a matter of days or weeks. It's truly inexplicable. But that's history."

Yes, Mr. Historian, that is history. And this history, viewed from the perspective of the Church's teachings, becomes very explainable.

In truth the 3 most influential events in human history centered on the person of Jesus Christ, and all 3 took place within eight weeks of each other. Something else they have in common: they were actions, taken not by men, but by God Himself.

These events are true history — perhaps we should say, His Story — the story of the Creator of all things doing the most remarkable things — in a truly remarkable way. It’s the story of a loving Father sending His Son to suffer and die at the hands of those He created, as a perfect offering for their sins. For so many today Jesus Christ is inexplicable, until we plumb the depths of God's Love for us.

Because His Story doesn't end with the first event on the Cross at Calvary. If it had, our historian's instincts would have been correct, and Jesus would have been a mere footnote…if that. But the Father wasn’t content to let it end there. He wanted us to know, to accept the truth. And so, three days later, the second event occurred. Jesus rose from the dead, to prove His Divinity, and to give us a foretaste of what awaits those who love Him and keep His commandments.

But even the Resurrection, this momentous event, is insufficient. For the Father wants His Truth, and the knowledge of His infinite Love, to spread to the ends of the earth. He'd sacrificed His Son, not for a handful of followers, not for the Jewish people, His Chosen Ones, who for centuries prepared the way for Jesus, the Christ. No, this act of redemption was for all of humanity, for every person is a child of God.

Today we celebrate this third event, a relatively brief event in the history of salvation, but an event of such impact, it permanently and profoundly altered the very history of the world. For what took place in Jerusalem on that Sunday morning almost 2,000 years ago is God's lasting gift to His children.

He had sent His Son to suffer and die as a redemptive sacrifice, to free us from the slavery of sin and death and to give us the hope of eternal life. And now God fulfills the Word He gave us through His Prophet Joel, and so many others:

“It shall come to pass. I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions… I will pour out my spirit.”

Yes, it came to pass, and those days arrived. He sent His Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of life, the personification of the Divine Love between Father and Son. And what power the Spirit has!

Suddenly, 120 men and women, this fearful little band of followers, are instantly transformed. The disciples had seen what happened to Jesus, and feared it might well happen to them. As they gathered in that upper room, in secrecy and prayer with our Blessed Mother, the mighty breath of God and the fire of the Spirit’s presence engulfed them and changed them forever.

The Holy Spirit manifested in them the new, eternal covenant Jesus instituted at the Last Supper, forming them into the Church to bring God's message of salvation to the world. The Jewish feast of Pentecost took on entirely new meaning. What had Jesus just commanded them?

"Go, therefore, and 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; and lo, I am with you always until the close of the age."

Now, for the first time, they began to understand what this mission entailed. And just as suddenly, all of Jesus' teachings, His promises, the words of the Word of God that had seemed so cryptic, became perfectly clear. Inspired by the Spirit with this new understanding, overflowing with enthusiasm for the mission He’d given them, they poured into the crowded streets of Jerusalem to share the Good News.

But the Holy Spirit had only just begun, and from those 120 disciples, He calls one to lead the way. It’s Peter, the fisherman – full of bluster and human weakness, who’d betrayed his Lord in those final hours…It’s Peter. Peter, the Rock upon whom Jesus promised to build His Church, speaks to the crowd and on that first Pentecost Sunday, the Church is born.

Miracle follows miracle and three thousand are baptized, for the work of the Spirit can’t be stopped. The one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church, brought into being that day, is still with us today, still guided by the Holy Spirit, still led by Christ's Vicar, still committed to the Apostolic mission of bringing the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. And the mission is universal, given to each of us, for we are the Church.

Why this mission? Just look around you. How can you miss it? …the sadness and hopelessness and sinfulness that plague so many today. These are God's children! They don’t need our condemnation or pity; they need God’s love and evangelization. The Father wants to bring them to Himself, and He calls us to take part in His work.

Does this call, this mission, frighten you? Are you terrified of the idea of evangelizing others? You shouldn’t be, because just like Peter and the disciples on that first Pentecost, you won’t be alone. You see, we can’t do God’s work without the Spirit. As St. Paul reminded us “…the Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness.” And later Paul told the Corinthians:

"There are different kinds of spiritual gifts, but the same Spirit…different forms of service, but the same Lord...To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit."

Do you see what He’s telling us? We have the same mission, even though we carry it out in different ways, and it’s the Holy Spirit who inspires and guides each of us. Today we’re reminded to be roused from the comfort and safety of our own upper rooms. We too need to be amazed — that our faith should be accompanied by the sounds, the heat, the cacophony of different voices, the presence of the Holy Spirit, proclaiming the mighty acts of God.

Sisters and brothers, we all have a mission to a world that waits beyond our parish walls…

…a world often confused, divided, afraid.

…a world waiting to be astounded by power of the Spirit and His message of hope.

God doesn’t encourage us; He commands us, for it’s the essential work of our Christian faith.

Of course, it’s comforting to stay within our families or parish community, but God doesn't want us to get too comfortable. For on that first Pentecost God turned the disciples’ little circle inside out. Suddenly they faced not each other, but a world waiting to hear the Good News. As we follow them, we can rely on God’s promise: the Holy Spirit is with us, guiding us, his wisdom flowing through us…We need only invite Him.

How did Jesus put it in today’s Gospel?

“Rivers of living water will flow from within him who believes in me.”

Let’s welcome the Spirit into our lives…and those rivers will flow through us as He renews the face of the earth.

And today, here on the vigil of Pentecost, what a perfect time to pray to the Spirit, the Giver of Life, asking Him to convert and forgive all those who have taken so many innocent lives, lives He has given to the world.

Do it today, and witness the wonders, the mighty acts of God, He will bring about in your lives, in my life, and in the lives of all we encounter.

Catholic Bishops, Where Are You?

One senses that our bishops aren’t really too concerned about what’s happening in our nation or, more dangerously, in Washington, D.C., our own version of the ancient Sodom. Oh, they occasionally make a comment or send a “Tsk-tsk” note to our political elites, but all with little effect. So little that President Biden seems to enjoy telling our bishops how wrong they are about the full range of moral issues. For the president, Church teaching is optional, something that must change with the times. 

Of all the issues facing the country today, the most divisive and evident, of course, is abortion. For example, a few weeks ago, at a gathering of Florida Democrats, the president, who proudly claims to be a “practicing” and “devout” Catholic, made the Sign of the Cross during the pro-abortion speech of a fellow Democrat. (Read the article here.) Believe me, he supported everything his colleague said. Several Catholic organizations vehemently objected to this sacrilegious act, but to my knowledge I’ve heard no public comment from our bishops. If any said anything, they certainly didn’t say it very loudly. Often enough, bishops post their comments on diocesan websites, which, sadly, very few Catholics ever view. Why not call a press conference, or issue a statement to the local press, telling one and all what the Church teaches on abortion and other moral issues? Or send a teaching letter to pastors, instructing them to have it read at every Mass? Politicians provide excellent opportunities for teaching moments by our bishops, priests, and deacons. 

Even more despicable, though, the president has made abortion the key issue of his presidential campaign. For him, what it means to be a practicing and devout Catholic seems to have nothing to do with either faith or obedience:

“Not everyone who says to me ‘Lord, Lord’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven” [Mt 7,21].

Let’s face it, abortion is the moral issue of our time. Throughout the world several hundred million children are dead because of abortion. Each was slaughtered, and often painfully, as they were cut into pieces by those supposedly dedicated to healing. I can conceive of no modern crime more evil than abortion, the always willful destruction of the most innocent of human lives. The fact that so many people just accept it, as they would accept an appendectomy, tells us a lot about the moral degradation of our so-called civilized world. 

And yet we hear very little from our shepherds. What are the bishops afraid of? Is it a revenue issue? Can’t tick off the pro-abortion “Catholics” who would likely close their wallets and checkbooks. Or do they fear losing their tax-exempt status by wading into what the IRS considers political waters? But the IRS is wrong, deadly wrong. Abortion isn’t political; it’s moral and religious, two areas about which the Church must speak its mind. And thanks to the Holy Spirit, that mind, at least magisterially, always reflects the mind of God. 

Given the Church’s magisterial rejection of abortion, one would think the bishops might issue a public condemnation or two. Perhaps they believe that going public about the slaughter of millions of unborn children will jeopardize our moving forward on what some wrongfully consider more important issues, like climate change and immigration. After all, just this week Pope Francis warned that climate change has become a “planetary crisis,” and that billions of us earthlings face “an extremely high risk of climate-related devastation.” It would seem, then, based on the time the pope has expended writing and talking about climate change, it’s far more important to him than any other issue, including abortion.

Interestingly, when I read this, I emailed several old friends, all PhD meteorologists or climatologists, and asked them to confirm what they had told me earlier. All three again stated that the evidence for human-induced climate change is so minimal it can be ignored. One suggested that Pope Francis, who likely knows very little about climate change, is listening to advisors and “experts” who are reaping the financial benefits of choosing the politically correct side of the issue. “Follow the money,” he added, “and you can predict what the ‘experts’ will say.”

Sadly, too, the Biden administration has been active prosecuting (and persecuting) pro-life activists. Biden’s justice department brought conspiracy charges against a group of pro-life activists for a 2020 protest at a Washington, D.C. abortion clinic that specializes in late-term abortions. This Tuesday and Wednesday seven of these activists were sentenced to two years or more in federal prison. Just read about these “horrible criminals” that our devout Catholic president wants imprisoned. Here are some relevant links:

Imprisoned Pro-Life Activists Speak Out

Pro-Life Activists Sentenced -- combat veteran, 70-year-olds, and icon Joan Andrews, others

Diane and I were fortunate to meet Joan Andrews-Bell years ago when I chaired our Cape Cod parish's pro-life ministry. She has devoted her life to the cause and spent over 6 years imprisoned for acts of love. Now she will serve more time. Pray for all these courageous people. Joan considers her prison sentence as “a time of prayer and reparation” for the “sin of abortion in America.”

I've always believed that political approaches to life take us in the wrong direction. We must, instead, change hearts and minds, always speaking the truth and doing what is needed to instill once again in the people of this country a fervent love for God and His gift of life. It must always begin with prayer and will conclude when God acts to teach us His will.

Perhaps the bishops should also take a faithful and theological, rather than a political, approach and turn to the Nicene Creed in which the Holy Spirit is described as “Lord and Giver of Life.” If we support abortion, are we not then taking to ourselves the powers of the Holy Spirit, and assuming God-like authority over life and death? To usurp God’s power and authority is intrinsically evil, a form of pride almost beyond belief. Wouldn’t it set a wonderful example for the faithful if our bishops, as we approach the solemnity of Pentecost, turned publicly to the Holy Spirit in prayer? What a perfect time to ask the Spirit to bring about the conversion and ultimately the forgiveness for all those who have destroyed the many innocent lives He has given the world.

Prophecies

I’ve listed below just a few prophetic words from people I hold in high esteem. Each of these brief comments seems, at least to me, applicable to our current situation. That situation is a movable feast of sorts, but an indigestible feast rushing quickly to something truly demonic. We will soon reach a point where human actions will be unable to save us from a worldly future driven by those captivated by evil. That’s when God will step in as he has again and again. What He will do, how He will rescue us…well, that’s likely to be quite a surprise. But like the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, God calls on us to plead the case of the faithful ones [See Gn 18]. 

In the meantime, we must do our part and never fear speaking the truth, not only among family and friends, but also openly in the public square. But first we must come together prayerfully as the people of God filled with hope. And remember, hope isn’t just wishin’ and dreamin’ — not at all. Hope, as a theological virtue, is our firm confidence that God will answer our prayer and fulfill His promise to care for us and pour out His peace on us, all over us, and into our confused and troubled hearts. "Peace be with you" Jesus says to the confused and doubting.

Keep in mind that prophecy involves the proclamation of God’s Word and only occasionally addresses future events. Prophecy, then, is simply the revelation of God’s will for us. That said, read these comments and consider their truths:

“For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own likings, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander into myths.” ~ St. Paul [2 Tim 4:3-4] 

“We are moving toward a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as for certain and which has as its highest goal one's own ego and one's own desires.” ~ Pope Benedict XVI, 2005

“The hero can never be a relativist.“~ Richard M. Weaver, 1948, Ideas Have Consequences

"I don't need a church to tell me I'm wrong where I already know I'm wrong; I need a Church to tell me I'm wrong where I think I'm right" ~ Gilbert K. Chesterton

“For the first time in human history, most people are doing things that could never interest a child enough to want to tag along. That says less about the child than about us.” ~ Anthony Esolen

“Schooling deprived of religious insights is wretched education.” ~ Russell Kirk, (1986). “The Assault on religion: commentaries on the decline of religious liberty”

“The modern state does not comprehend how anyone can be guided by something other than itself. In its eyes pluralism is treason.” ~ Richard M. Weaver

"We do not need a censorship of the press. We have a censorship by the press... It is not we who silence the press. It is the press who silences us." ~ Gilbert K. Chesterton

“When one remembers how the Catholic Church has been governed, and by whom, one realizes that it must have been divinely inspired to have survived at all.” ~ Hilaire Belloc

“It may be a movement towards becoming like little children to admit that we are generally nothing else.” ~ Charles Williams, Descent into Hell

“When the whole world is running headlong towards the precipice, one who walks in the opposite direction is looked at as being crazy.” ~ T. S. Eliot

“We’re surrounded by a lot of noise. The world tries to drown out God’s voice. How many never take the time to listen for God’s call, or even believe He’s calling them?” ~ Me (2022)

"Rather than shivering in the cold, modern man has preferred to set the house on fire, and dance for a moment in the final conflagration" ~ Roger Scruton

Kristi Noem and Her Dog

5/10/24 — A postscript to the below post. RFK Jr., the “other” candidate for the presidency, recently announced his support for the abortion of full-term infants. Yep, it’s OK to slaughter the little human beings whom God created in His image and likeness. And yet we hear almost nothing about this from the mainstream media or the nattering social media crowd. These and too many others are more upset about Governor Noem’s shooting a dog 20 years ago. What are the moral priorities of a nation in which so many are far more concerned about the death of a dog than the premeditated murder of millions of innocent children?

____________________

I expect that much of what I write in this post will make many folks here in The Villages all aflutter. In truth, though, I don’t care…so here goes, 

Let me begin by saying I’m a dog person and have lived with dogs most of my life, dogs that represented a variety of breeds: Boston Bulldog: German Shepherd; three Weimaraners; Samoyed; Shetland Sheepdog; and Bichon Frise. Let me also assert that, despite what the so-called experts say, not every dog is trainable. As one vet told me, “Some dogs just have a few mental wrinkles that can’t be ironed out. You can ease the problems with good training, but you never know if they’ll arise under certain conditions.”

A lot of people seem very upset because twenty years ago S. Dakota Governor Noem shot a dog that was not only untrainable but had also proven to a danger to man and beast alike. Most of those who fret and wring their hands over the governor’s act have never set foot on a farm or ranch and don’t understand that for many country folk dogs are often working animals. If a dog makes a habit of killing livestock and other farm critters, if it attacks people, and if it cannot be trained to do otherwise, it simply has to go. 

A few years ago I met a man in West Texas who had a huge dog in the back of his pickup. He thought it was part German Shepherd and part Bull Mastiff — as I said, a very big dog. In his words, “He seems to have a bit of blood-lust. At night he roams pretty freely on our ranch, and I have to keep him away from the calves. But if a deer enters our property — it’s  a few hundred acres — that dog knows it and that deer is dead. He’s the only dog I’ve ever seen that can pull down a fullgrown deer and kill it. He’s okay with the family, because I guess we’re his pack, but when guests visit I have to put him in his shed. If he ever hurt a person I’d have to shoot him.” 

Right after we were married, well over 50 years ago, Diane and I ended up with a large, male Weimaraner. How we got this dog is another story. Anyway, thanks to the Navy we found ourselves in San Diego, and for the next few years I spent a lot of time at sea. The dog seemed to be good protection for Diane, but over time we discovered he had more than a few problems. He was overprotective, destroyed all our furniture, and was overly aggressive around other humans, so when Diane was expecting our first child, we decided he had to go. This was not a friendly dog, and I worried about him attacking guests, or Diane, or the baby when she arrived. Quite honestly, I thought about doing what the governor did, but figured in Southern California they’d lock me up. So, we tried to find him a new home. We succeeded in giving him to a family that lived on a ranch in northern San Diego county. Within a few months they wanted to return him, but we refused (the baby had arrived). We’re pretty certain they placed him in an ASPCA shelter where he was no doubt euthanized. 

My dogs (with this one exception) were all well-trained animals and a comfort to our family. They were not working dogs — hunters, shepherds, etc. — but were family pets. We cared for them and they cared for us in their own unique way. But they were all very different and displayed their affection in varying ways. 

And yet, as you might expect, I have no problem with the governor’s dispatching her dog. If you’re one of those folks who places dogs and spiders and aardvarks and cows and lions and tigers and bears all on the same value level as human beings, we have a philosophical and theological obstacle to further discussion. You might object to the means she used to dispatch the dog, but it was probably far more humane and quicker than many other means.

Homily: 4th Sunday of Easter - Year B

Readings: Acts 4:8-12; Ps 118; 1 Jn 3:1-2; Jn 10:11-18

I’m going to tell you a story; and it’s a true story.

Back when I was flying off aircraft carriers, we pilots tended to hang out with each other when off duty. We’d talk about aviation, working on improving our skills -- you know, stayin’ alive. But we’d also talk about other stuff, especially over meals. We'd always been told that officers shouldn’t talk religion or politics in the wardroom. In truth, though, we often talked about these things; but we knew each other well and forgave our differences.

One of our squadron pilots, a friend named Bill, talked a lot about religion. I thought that was strange since at best he was agnostic. Anyway, it really bothered him that so many of us were believers, especially Christians. One evening, before one of those tiring night missions, several of us were probably on our fifth cup of coffee, when Bill started on his favorite rant.

“Just look at the universe,” he said. “It’s just too big to imagine with its billions of galaxies. Then we have earth, this tiny planet of ours, so infinitesimally insignificant, stuck in some little cosmic corner.

“Is there a God who made all this? Maybe so. I don't know. 

“But you Christians believe that this God who created everything, and maintains it all, that He decided to come down here to our nothing little planet, become one of us, tell us how to live, and then let us kill Him by nailing Him to a Cross.”

Then he said, “I’m sorry, but this is just beyond…as you would say, beyond belief.” Yes, indeed, Bill thought Christians were idiots. 

Now, I was just another pilot, but felt I had to say something in defense of our faith, so I just said, “Bill, do you love your wife?”

Well, that surprised him. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Do you love Marie?”

“Of course I do.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you together. I can tell you love her.  And you’d do anything for her, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I would.”

“Would you give your life for her?”

“Of course I would. Heck, I’d even give my life for you guys, though you don’t deserve it.”

“Yeah, we know that. You see, Bill, the God who created that great universe you described, also created you and me, and created us in His image and likeness. 

“He created us out of love and created us to love. And because of His love, you can love Marie.”

All Bill said was, “Well…maybe.” I guess I wasn't very convincing.

A few years later I received word that Bill had taken his own life. When we first heard the news one of my more fundamentalist friends said, “How sad that he’s now in hell.”

Well, that made me angry, and for a moment, I just stared at him in disbelief. Finally, I said, “You really think you’re God, don’t you? That you can decide who's saved or who or isn’t. But salvation is God’s business, not ours. All we can do is what Paul told the Philippians:

“…work out your salvation with fear and trembling” [Phil 2:12].

"Only God knows what Bill struggled with, what fears claimed him. Only God knows what was in his heart. All I know is God will look on Bill with love and mercy, for 'His mercy endures forever.'  Because that’s who our God is. And I know nothing else, nothing else for certain.”

I just walked away angry, which was stupid. I’d like to think I’d handle both situations differently today. 

Sisters and brothers, today on Good Shepherd Sunday, we celebrate God’s great love for us, and we do it despite the skepticism and disbelief of so many in the world, people like my friend Bill.

In John’s Gospel we hear Jesus clearly revealing who He is and how important we are to him.

“I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.”

Jesus doesn’t abandon us in the face of danger; no, He sacrifices Himself.

Just consider what it means for God to sacrifice His life for us. This divine sacrificial act has led some to ask: Is God of the Christians insane? Is He crazy? I suppose Bill thought that too.

But our Gid isn't crazy; no, our God is Love. His is a love, not simply beyond our capability, but it’s beyond our understanding. In St. Paul’s words, “He emptied himself” and became one of us to offer His life to save ours. And He did this solely out of love. Do you see the kind of God we have, this Good Shepherd who cares so much for us?

Then, to ensure we get the point, Jesus turns to us and tells us to love others as he has loved us, to be willing to give our lives for them, even for those the world says just aren’t worth it. Our love for God, Jesus tells us, must be mirrored in our love for others.

Remember that wonderful scene described in John’s Gospel when, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, the risen Jesus asks Peter three times:

“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

…and each time Peter responds,

“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

To the first yes, Jesus said “Feed my lambs”; to the second, “Tend my sheep”; and to the third, “Feed my sheep.” Your love for me, Jesus is telling Peter, will be evidenced by how well you tend my sheep, my people, those for whom I sacrificed my life to save.

But Jesus didn’t stop with Peter. He turns to all of us, all of us in the Body of Christ. He doesn’t say, “love me as I have loved you.” No, instead He commands, "love one another as I have loved you." 

In our first reading, we learned that our love for others must manifest God’s love, and the good that we do must be done in Jesus’ name. As Peter proclaimed:

“There is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved."

It’s all Jesus Christ, in Jesus Christ, through Jesus Christ, and only Jesus Christ.

John presents this a bit differently in our 2^nd reading:

“See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God. Yet so we are.”

Children of God… you and me… all of us:

• the poor in need of a meal or a place to sleep...they're God's children
• the Alzheimer’s patient in memory care...is a child of God
• the lonely, the depressed, whom nobody visits...a child of God
• the neighbor undergoing radiation and chemo-therapy...she's a child of God
• the prisoner locked away in his cell...yes, he too is a child of God
• the single mother struggling to make ends meet...a child of God

And, yes, many of us may be suffering as well, but that doesn’t mean we stop loving. 

For all of us, children of God, are brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. We’re not strangers; for children of the same loving Father can’t be strangers. Brothers and sisters of our Lord, Jesus Christ, can’t be strangers.

Jesus calls us not simply to love others, but to see and hear Him in them, to realize that what we do for and to each other, we do to Him.

“I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’

I suppose at judgment we will judge ourselves by our response to this calling as children of God.

Years ago, Diane and I attended a papal audience in Rome, and heard Pope Benedict say:

“As a community, the Church must practice love…The Church cannot neglect the service of love any more than she can neglect the Sacraments and the Word.”

At every level, then — the universal Church, the diocese, the parish, the home – we must love. This is how the Church shows who she really is.

Outside a Catholic church in Syracuse, NY there’s a statue of a man seated on the sidewalk. I think there's a similar statue at Ave Maria University here in Florida. It’s a statue, a sculpture, of a beggar, wearing a hood, his face covered. His hand is stretched out toward those who walk by, much like the hand of the beggar reaching out to Peter in our reading from Acts. 

But if you look closely, you’ll notice a nail hole in that hand. Yes, it’s Our Lord, the risen Jesus bearing the wounds of His love; it’s the Jesus who humbled Himself to became like a slave, a beggar.

For those who pass by it’s a constant reminder to look beyond appearances and see Jesus in all who reach out to them.

And for you and me it’s a reminder that Christ has His hand stretched out to us right now.

God love you.

And please…pray for my friend, Bill, and for all those veterans who found their lives to hard to live.