Solemnity of the Holy Family (Cycle C)

CHRISTMAS GIFTS

Sirach 3: 2-6, 12-14; Colossians 3: 12-21; Luke 2: 41-52 

“What do you want for Christmas?” 

If you asked that question to a child this past month, you probably got an earful, an extensive wish list of the latest toys, technology and fashion that’s been marketed to them on television. Everything from this year’s Hess Truck to anything and everything Star Wars. And so, Santa’s job (or the job for “Santa’s Helpers”) was an easy one because they let us know in exact detail what they wanted . . . the things that, along with sugar plums, danced in their heads. 

But it’s harder to buy for others on our Christmas shopping list. As we get older, our wish list gets shorter and when asked, “What do you want for Christmas?” the response is: “Nothing.” “There’s nothing I need or want.” “What could I want? I have everything.” And so for those people, usually older folk - grandparents, parents, husbands and wives - choosing the perfect gift is a challenge. It takes thought and creativity. Because, despite their answer, something in us still wants to not only give them something, but give them the perfect something . . . the something that will express our love for them and make them happy. 

Did you ever leave someone off your Christmas shopping list? Someone that you forgot to buy for? When that happens, often times we resort to re-gifting. We give them something that we were given. Sometimes it’s something that we’re all too happy to get rid of: the thing we already have twelve of, the ugly Christmas sweater, the thing we didn’t want, didn’t ask for, never will use, wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. Sometimes it’s something we reluctantly give away, something cherished, something we give joyfully and unselfishly, knowing it’s something that someone else needs or wants, something that will look better on them, something that will bring them happiness. 

If you think about it, there IS probably someone who didn’t make it onto your list this year. And there’s a good chance that he never has. Two days ago we celebrated a midnight clear, a child's cry, a blazing star hanging over a stable, and wise men coming from afar with birthday gifts. We haven't forgotten that night down the centuries. We celebrate it with stars on Christmas trees, with the sound of bells, with song and with gifts. But especially with gifts. Gifts for young. Gifts for old. Gifts for family. Gifts for friends. Gift for bosses. Gifts for school teacher, mailman, and hair dresser. Gifts given out of love. Gifts given out of appreciation. Gifts given out of obligation. Gifts for all . . . except the one whose birth we celebrate. 

Maybe he’s never made it onto our shopping list, because he’s difficult to buy for. He’s like the family member who tells us he doesn’t need anything . . . he has everything. After all, what can you give the SON OF GOD??? What can you give the one who needs nothing and if he did, could create it for himself? I’ve thought about that question a lot, and I’ve come up with one thing that God cannot give himself. And that’s LOVE. Because the very nature of love is that it’s dynamic, creative and never focused inward but always extended outward - towards someone or something else. Love, when it’s true love, is the total gift of self, and you can’t give yourself to yourself but only to someone else. The very last lyric that Oscar Hammerstein wrote says it beautifully: “A bell is no bell till you ring it. A song is no song till you sing it. And love in your heart wasn’t put there to stay. Love isn’t love till you give it away.” 

If you think about it, love was the first Christmas gift, the gift of Mary and Joseph. Unconditional love. The type of love that causes a fourteen year old girl to say yes to God, despite confusion, unanswered questions, feelings of inadequacy, and the possibility of the loss of her reputation and maybe even her life. The kind of love that transforms a faith-filled virgin into a faithful mother: unconditional love. 

It’s the type of love that causes a carpenter to give up his own dreams and plans in favor of God’s will . . . to accept a pregnant girl as his bride . . . to raise someone else’s child as his own. It’s the kind of love that transforms a righteous dreamer into a father of the heart. Unconditional love. 

Before angels gave their gift of song, before kings presented their gold, frankincense and myrrh, before shepherds knelt and offered their praise; there in the solitude of the stable, the Virgin and the Carpenter offered the first gift, the greatest gift: the gift of their love. Unconditional love. 

It’s the type of love that Jesus had, a lesson he learned well as a member of that Holy Family - the type of love that led him from the manger to the cross. The type of love he said we should have when he said, “Love one another as I have loved you.” 

Our gift of love to Jesus is one that’s re-gifted, because it’s the very gift that he has given us. He doesn’t care what the wrapping and ribbon look like, because much like a father whose son or daughter gives him the handmade art class project, despite its imperfections, when it’s given, it’s worth more to him than all the diamonds at Tiffany’s. 

So if you made your list, checked it twice, but left off he whose birth we celebrate, don’t worry. Belated gifts are accepted and cherished. And just as Christmas gifts come in different varieties, sizes and colors, so too does the gift of unconditional love to babe of Bethlehem, the man of Golgatha. It might be wrapped in the honesty and integrity with which you conduct business in a competitive, cutthroat, backstabbing workplace; the faithfulness to your marriage vows amidst the temptations and allures of our sexually promiscuous society; the total dedication to your children in our materialistic culture that places greater value on productivity than on parenting, quantity of work time over quality of family time; The ribbons and bows of your gift of unconditional love might be the gentleness and fairness with which you treat both neighbor and stranger, or embracing Gospel values over Hollywood values, or time set aside for prayer and worship amidst a life of schedules and obligations. 

Our gift for the one born on a starlit night so long ago can’t be found in Santa’s workshop, in a department store, or online. It needs to be found in the same place Mary and Joseph found it – in the heart. And make no mistake about it: unconditional love doesn’t come cheap. It costs. As a matter of fact, it costs everything. But it is the only gift worthy of the Son of God. 

Happy Birthday, Jesus! . . . Sorry if I’m late.

The Second Sunday of Advent (Cycle C)

DO YOUR HEAR WHAT I HEAR?

Baruch 5:1-9; 2 Philemon 4: 1-6, 8-11; Luke 3: 1-6 

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy,

“Do you hear what I hear?

Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy,

Do you hear what I hear?

A song, a song, high above the trees

With a voice as big as the sea

With a voice as big as the sea

A voice cries out in the wilderness, “Prepare the way of the Lord! Make straight his paths.” Do you hear what I hear?

The Roman authorities didn’t. They were too interested in keeping the “Peace of Rome” by force than to take seriously the challenge to prepare for the “Prince of Peace” who would come to establish his kingdom on love. 

Herod didn’t. He was an unpopular, cruel and power-hungry king. He was too busy trying to work deals with the competing factions.

The Pharisees and teachers of the Law didn’t. They knew the Bible backwards, but unfortunately didn’t know it “forwards.” In theory they were looking for the Messiah to come sometime in the future. But in reality they didn’t want anyone to disturb their control on the highly structured, all-encompassing rules that dictated how they lived their lives, and which they expected everyone else to live by, as well.

The ordinary people . . . they didn’t either – most of them. They were poor and life was hard. They had to pay close to sixty percent of their wages to pay the Temple tax, as well as the tax imposed by Rome. Life was a struggle. They were simply too busy to realize that the very ancient prophesies that they knew by heart and longed to become a reality for their nation, had been fulfilled in their midst. 

Do YOU hear what I hear? 

In today’s gospel, we hear a voice imploring us to get ready. It’s a familiar voice, one that we hear every year at this time. But it’s a voice that often gets drowned out by other voices: a voice chuckling “Ho, Ho, Ho;” a voice crooning dreams of a White Christmas, or a voice reminding us on TV or radio that there are only 18 shopping left days ‘til Christmas.

For nearly 2000 years later, the voice of the Baptist has echoed out from the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord! Make straight his paths.” It’s a voice that must be heard before we can hear about angel’s songs and humble shepherds’ surprise, and “Silent Night, Holy Night.” His voice is the voice of a herald who challenges us to get ready. For preparing for Christmas cannot simply be a matter of making sure the Christmas lights work, or of putting up the Christmas tree, or of making enough gingerbread cookies for company. All of those things are fine, but the real preparation for Christmas takes place not on the outside, but on the inside, through radical self-examination, and yes, even though making changes in our life. John the Baptist cries out to us from the wilderness to look at our lives and re-examine our priorities; to ask ourselves we're investing our time, our energy, our money; to get rid of whatever is hindering us from having deeper faith, or from loving and being loved, or from living in the ways of justice and peace.” 

John the Baptist's call to preparation through benevolence to the poor, honesty and integrity in business, and contentment with one’s lot in life is just as real today as it was when he first proclaimed it in the wilderness. Now all of that may not be the kind of Good News we want to hear. But it is the Good News that will enable God’s love to be born among us in Jesus Christ in a way that is truly transformational, that changes us and our world. John reminds us that each of us needs to repent – to turn around and go in another direction, the direction of Bethlehem and the birth of God’s love in Christ Jesus. 

So here we are on December 6th beginning the second week of Advent. How are you doing with your Christmas preparations? This past week one of the women who works in the rectory told me that she’s almost finished her Christmas shopping . . . FOR NEXT YEAR!!! I’m not that prepared, and I imagine most of you aren’t either. But along with the shopping and decorating and card writing and baking, how are your spiritual preparations for Christmas coming? Let’s not make our spiritual preparations be like New Year’s Resolutions – things that are well intended . . . things that we really want to do . . . things we promise ourselves that we’re going to do, but in the end, time slips past us and the busyness of life gets the better of us, and our good intentions get shifted to our “to do” list for next year. 

So, if you need a little help, here are six suggestions to help spiritually get ready for Christmas this year:

1. Give God one very special gift – just from you to Him. Let this gift be something personal, that no one else need know about, and let it be something that “costs,” not your money, but you personally, a sacrifice. Perhaps your gift to God will be to forgive someone you’ve needed to forgive for a longtime. Or maybe your gift will be to commit yourself to spending time with God daily in prayer, maybe praying the rosary and focusing on the Joyful Mysteries, since most of them are connected with the birth of our Lord.

2. Set aside a special time to read Scripture. Perhaps this would be a good year to read the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, and recall some of the ancient prophesies that were fulfilled by Jesus. Or, read the Gospel of Matthew or Luke. I recommend either of them because they contain what we call the “Infancy Narratives,” the accounts of Jesus’ conception and birth. 

3. Set up a Nativity scene in your home. Set it up in a prominent place, and don’t let it be just another Christmas decoration, but something you visit every day, which you allow to help you transcend time and space and bring you back 2,000 years to Bethlehem.

4. Send Christmas cards that convey a spiritual message. This is an easy way to share your faith at Christmastime. If you've already bought the snowman cards -- no problem! Just write a Bible verse and include a personal message with each card.

5. Plan a project of good will this Christmas. The idea of giving the gift of service to someone in need demonstrates Christ-like love and service. It could be volunteering in a soup kitchen, caroling at a nursing home, baking cookies for an elderly neighbor, or running an errand for a friend. Oh, and don’t forget, charity really does begin at home, so maybe look around to those who live under the same roof as you and the special needs that they might have. 

6. Go to the Sacrament of Reconciliation. There's no better way to prepare yourself spiritually for the coming of our Lord at Christmas than to go to confession. Do some spiritual housekeeping in your heart, mind, and soul, to prepare a place worthy of Jesus being born anew this Christmas. 

Today we celebrate the Second Sunday of Advent. Christmas is two weeks and five days from today. And today a voice cries out from the wilderness, “Prepare the way of the Lord!” Do you hear what I hear?

First Sunday of Advent (Cycle C)

Wait . . . Want . . . Watch . . . Wonder

Jeremiah 33:14-16; 1 Thessalonians 3:12-4:2; Luke 21:25-28, 34-36 

At the time of the economic crash there were seven children, five girls and two boys—Joseph was the oldest and Theresa was the youngest. The family lived in a small house in Brooklyn that had no central heating and the refrigerator was an icebox on the back porch that had to be padlocked at night so that the other poor wouldn’t steal their food while they slept. There was no work available anywhere. Josephine, the widowed mother, cashed in her husband’s small insurance policy and sold the few pieces of gold jewelry she owned just to buy groceries. Whatever clothes they had had been outgrown by someone else and shoes were often the wrong size. The gas and electric bills weren’t paid and they were forced to use a kerosene lantern to see by night.

On the coldest nights of winter, they all slept in the kitchen around the stove, the only source of heat. Out of sheer desperation they sought public relief. And before welfare could be collected, an agent visited their home and opened all the cupboards and bureau drawers to determine if they were destitute . . . and they were. Christmas that year was homemade – old toys and dolls refurbished and doll clothes sewn from scraps. 

They waited and waited for the worst to be over. It wasn’t the end of the world, it just seemed like it.

Sometimes life feels like the world is shattering and collapsing and there are people who long for the end of the world . . . the world as they know it. Many of us have experienced this kind of world and understand what our final end might be like - when hope is all but exhausted and we look around and see that everything still seems normal, but the world has stopped for us. When the small shadow appears on an x-ray after years of remission; when we’re on the verge of losing our home because the bank says, “time’s up;” when we wait for the phone call or email in the midst of company layoffs; when we wait in anguish for the sound of the car pulling in the driveway when our seventeen-year-old son is hours late getting home.

Not all waiting is unnerving and fearful. Sometimes we wait in joyful hope and expectation—for a pregnancy to end and labor to begin; for the grandparents to arrive on their annual Thanksgiving visit; for Christmas morning after weeks of eagerness and excitement. But wait we must—it seems so unavoidable in this life. And none of us waits very well. Whether it’s standing in line at the bank or waiting for winter to end and spring to begin, waiting has a way of taking hold of us and demanding all our attention—it tests our patience and can sometimes feel like solitary confinement. We do anything to avoid it and fill our lives with great amounts of activity so that we don’t have to think about it. We hurry through life, and we fret and worry if we’re doing enough, and . . . all the while . . . we’re waiting. 

Today begins our Advent waiting—a four-week-long marathon of sprinting breathlessly to the Christmas finish line. Even as we do so, the days grow shorter, the darkness grows longer, and nighttime takes over—there is a sense of losing what precious little time we have. And into our stressful and anxiety-filled lives, Jesus issues a stern warning in the most disturbing language, striking fear in our hearts—“on earth nations will be in dismay . . . People will die of fright in anticipation of what is coming . . . Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength . . .” Few of us take these words seriously. Maybe those who first heard them, who were enduring terrible suffering and wanted to know when the world was coming to an end, but even they grew weary of waiting and wondered if these things would ever come to pass. The truth is we all wait for Christ to return; we all believe that God keeps his promises . . . just not in our lifetime.

So maybe today’s gospel isn’t about earthquakes, Category 5 hurricanes, raging wild fires, unrelenting rain and floods, and the world coming to an end. Maybe it’s not about looking up at the heavens for Christ coming in a cloud, but about redemption and promises kept. Maybe it’s not about what Christ will do and when he’ll do it, but about what we should be doing right here and now. And maybe it’s not about being alert and keeping our eyes open for what will happen in the future but about finally seeing what’s already right in front of us. 

Advent is a time to wait, to want, to watch, and to wonder. It’s a time to wait to celebrate Christ’s coming at Christmas and his coming more fully into our lives. It’s a time to want, to want to use this precious time to prepare, to make these four weeks different from the other 48 0f the year. It’s a time to watch, to be more attuned to Christ’s coming in the people and events of our everyday lives. And it’s a time to wonder, to be in awe of such profound love and goodness and mercy that God sent his own Son to redeem us and to give us an example of how life should be lived. 

Advent is a gift, a precious gift of time to straighten out what’ not yet right; to overcome that one struggle, that one area of darkness—to heal what we’ve broken, to forgive, to be less addicted, to be more chaste, to be more generous, to bring Christ back into our lives as if this Advent were our very last Advent. It’s a time to interrupt our Christmas marathon and look into our lives no matter how shattered or wonderful they may be, to find Christ with us. Christ who once came. Christ who comes to us in the broken places where we know we can’t make it on our own. Christ who comes to us in those moments when we look beyond our own needs, to see the needs of others. 

Time passes for all of us, no matter how quickly or how slowly that may be happening. We wait for him who keeps his promises and we dare not be caught by surprise.

The Solemnity of All Saints

Saints Among Us

Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12a 

He was born in 1985 and his smile was contagious from the moment he first gave one. A typical kid, with typical interests. He loved professional sports and was a diehard Yankees, Giants and Bulls fan. In elementary school he joined the basketball team and played trumpet in the school band. And it was in fourth grade, when he became an altar server, that his love for God, his love for the church, and his dedication to a life of service began to grow. When he was fifteen years old, he needed a kidney transplant. He never complained, never felt sorry for himself, and used that experience to come to a deeper appreciation for life. He was an average student, but what wasn’t average about him was his goodness, his gentleness, his faith, his love of God, and his commitment to serve God’s people. In his senior year of high school, he became a Eucharistic Minister and spent a week that summer serving the Navajo Nation in Arizona. But during his second year in college, his body began to fail him and he spent five months in various hospitals. The will of God proved stronger than the prayers of his family and friends, and God brought him home to Himself. He had discerned that God was calling him to be a priest. And perhaps we can question the wisdom of God: why would God take such an inspirational and faith-filled individual at a time when the Church needs priests? But if a priest is one who dedicates his life to God through service and sacrifice, in reality, although he never was ordained, he already was a priest. His name is Patrick Nilsen. He was my student, and today is his feast day.

She was born in Brooklyn, NY in 1925, the youngest of seven children. Her father passed away when she was five and there were days when there was little on the family dinner table, and years that they couldn’t even afford a Christmas tree, much less Christmas presents. She attended her parish elementary school and would love to sneak into the church during lunchtime to light a candle and say a prayer in front of the statues of the Sacred Heart, the Blessed Mother, St. Joseph, and her patron saint, St. Therese. In her life, she never accomplished anything that the world would consider great, except to those who see greatness in being a loving and devoted wife to her husband of 51 years, a dedicated mother to her three sons, and a dear friend to all. She attended mass everyday, volunteered to feed the hungry every Thanksgiving, and was a member of a sewing group in her parish that provided clothing for the poor. She was someone who mastered her patron saint’s spiritual philosophy, known as “the little way” to sanctity, by doing the mundane things of everyday life and infusing them with tremendous love. When she was diagnosed with cancer in 1997, she lost her hair, she lost weight, and ultimately lost her life, but she never lost her faith. During her illness, she never admitted to being in the tremendous pain that wracked her body, but only spoke of it as “discomfort,” and refused pain medication that would cause her to be “out of it,” and chose instead to take only Extra-strength Tylenol so she could appreciate the time that she had left with her family. As her life was an example in Christian living, her death became an example in Christian death. And as she lay in her hospital bed a few days before she died, as she finished praying with her family, her face beamed with the most beautiful and serene smile as she announced to her family (while she stared at seemingly nothing at the foot of her bed), “He looks so beautiful.” Her name is Theresa Olsen, my mother, and today is her feast day.

Today, we celebrate the Feast of All Saints. And today is not about those who have been officially canonized. They already have their own particular feast days on the Church calendar. "All Saints" speaks of those who were not famous, but those nonetheless whose lives and deeds and love have endured beyond their death . . . my mother, your father, his brother, her husband, their child; our grandparents, our relatives, our friends . . . all those who have died and are now in the eternal embrace of God in heaven.

What is a saint? Saints are normal people, normal everyday people, who differ from most others in this world, not necessarily because of the degree of their moral perfection, but because of their faith. A saint is someone whose life is dedicated to the love of God and the doing of God's will in their lives. A saint is someone who inspires in us the desire to know and to follow Christ. And so, the feast of All Saints is an opportunity for us to offer a hymn to the ordinary people of the world who are extraordinary in their holiness, their love, their compassion, their dedication, and in their prayerfulness.

What makes a saint? Extravagance: excessive love, flagrant mercy, radical affection, exorbitant charity, immoderate faith, intemperate hope - none of which is an achievement, a badge to be earned or a trophy to be sought, but are secondary by-products of the one thing that truly makes a saint: their love for God.

Saints are those who hear the self-absorbed, success-orientated values that mainstream society has to offer and rejects them; values that shout out to us that: “Happy are those with strong personal ambition - they will get everything they ever dreamed of possessing!” And, “Happy are those who fulfill the expectations of the present age - the world is at their feet!”

We can choose to accept our society’s blessing. If we do, I’m sure we will be gifted with what the world knows and understands as blessings. But if we do accept that definition, we also reject our Lord’s voice. For in the world’s blessing there’s very little room for the poor in spirit, the mourning, the merciful, the meek, the righteous, the pure, the peacemakers or the persecuted. 

Or we can reject the modern view of blessing and stand in the company of God’s saints. God’s saints are those who know their identity and security are found only in God. God’s saints are those who give only God their total devotion. God’s saints are those who morn because other members of God’s family suffer. God’s saints are those who renounce the violent ways of the world causing that suffering. God’s saints are those who actively strive to do God’s will, and in their merciful actions reflect God’s mercy, and bring God’s peace. God’s saints are those whose actions, and whose very selves, may be rejected by the world, but they rejoice because they know they do their Lord’s work and follow their Lord’s path.

Today we are invited to walk the path of the saints, the way of the Beatitudes. The way is narrow and hard. We need faith and courage to walk it. Today we look to the example of the saints and call upon their prayers to encourage us and strengthen us. We’re told that St Augustine found it hard to live the Beatitudes, but when he read the lives of the saints he said, "What these ordinary women and men have done, why not me?"

Why not us?

The Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Cycle B)

CUT IT OUT!

Numbers 11:25-29; James 5:1-6; Mark 9: 38-43, 45, 47-48

If you’re in a profession long enough, you can point to a lot of positives that make it a rewarding career. For me, as a teacher, I can honestly say that the opportunity to work with young people, to be surrounded by their energy and enthusiasm, and the opportunity for me to learn from them and for me to grow as a person as I tried to impart knowledge and deepen their faith, are but a few of the positives that kept me going back to the classroom for so many years. But along with the pluses, realistically, there are always a few negatives. For me, the long hours of preparation, the paperwork, and sometimes having to deal with administrators who lacked the ability to appreciate and affirm are a few. But if you asked me what aspect of teaching I disliked most, I would have to say it was being a disciplinarian. As I’m sure those of you who are parents can identify with, children want to do what they want to do, and sometimes it takes multiple tries to get them to cease and desist. Sometimes, “Stop it!” wouldn’t be enough and would need to be followed up with, “Knock it off!!” But sometimes, in order for them to really get the message that I was losing patience and would no longer tolerate their shenanigans, with eyes widened and volume elevated, I needed to emphatically say, “CUT IT OUT!!!” And usually that did the trick. They got the message. 

CUT IT OUT!!! I think that’s message that Jesus is trying to get across to us today. 

In our gospel we hear some very jarring words from Jesus. He tells us that if our hand causes us to sin, to cut it off; if our foot causes us to sin, to cut it off; if our eye causes us to sin, to pluck it out. And I’m sure, although not directly stated by Jesus, by extension, he would have the same admonition for a tongue or an ear that has become the vehicle of our sinfulness. 

Well I’m happy to tell you that we’re NOT selling knives and axes after mass today in the Atrium as a fundraiser to pave the parking lot! But we get a little nervous when we hear Jesus’ words. Is he really suggesting radical surgery as the way to avoid sin? Radical? Yes. Surgery? No. 

What we have here is the typical, exaggerated language of the Middle East. We call it hyperbole. If a truth is important enough, the Semitic people don’t go in for concise, moderated, (and often dull) language such as the Romans favored. The Semites expressed truth in vivid word pictures; exaggerated images. And Jesus, a true Semite, used that kind of dramatic language to make his point. 

For our culture, especially when we’re writing or giving a formal lecture, the bigger the truth the more careful and concise and logical the language should be. Not so for the people of the Middle East. For Jesus and his people, the bigger the truth the more exaggerated the language might be. Get this right and his teaching packs a punch. Get it wrong and some earnest souls end up with a literalism which leads to confusion or grave error. 

And so I am quite sure that Jesus is not actually looking for more one handed, one footed, half blind disciples in response to this teaching. He isn’t advocating self-mutilation. But he is advocating an extremely rigorous, uncompromising approach to dealing with the roots of sin within ourselves. He’s telling us to root it out, to go hard on it, to CUT IT OUT. His language is clearly metaphorical. Feet, hands and eyes don’t cause sin. As the Apostle James has been telling us in recent weeks, sin has its roots in the attitudes of our hearts, in selfish ambitions and jealousies. Feet, hands and eyes may perform sinful actions, but they are followers not leaders.

But one of the traps of saying that something is a metaphor is that we can use that as an excuse to ignore the passage altogether instead of asking what the metaphor is telling us to do. If Jesus isn’t telling us to chop off our hands and gouge out our eyes, what is he telling us to put under the knife? 

Jesus is telling us to be ruthless on anything that keeps tripping us up and causing us to fall into sin. And he’s making the point that sometimes this may mean giving up things that aren’t bad in themselves. Isn’t that the point of his metaphor – there’s nothing inherently evil about feet or hands, but if they’re causing a problem, “CUT IT OUT.” 

When Jesus tells us that if our hand or foot causes us to sin, to cut it off, or if our eyes causes us to sin, to pluck it out, it constitutes the great reversal. He who healed a boy with a withered hand, made the lame walk, and restored sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, and speech to the mute, is telling us to become maimed, lame, blind, deaf and mute, if our hands, our feet, our eyes, our ears, our mouth, OURSELVES inflict sin and hurt and evil. And he tells us how to do it: 

• If our hand greedily grasps for wealth and power and the latest must-have items, if our hand refuses to let go of some of what we have acquired to help those in need – CUT IT OUT! 
• If our feet move us away from God and God’s Church, if they take us to places where God is disregarded and Gospel values are scorned and ignored – CUT IT OUT! 
• If our eyes see success in terms of money and possessions, if they look upon pornographic and violent images that poison the human spirit, if they fail to see others as children of the same Father – CUT IT OUT! 
• If our tongues wag with lies, negativity, gossip, vulgarity or words that promote hated and discrimination – CUT IT OUT! 
• If our ears are all too eager to hear scandal, dirty jokes, and lies that lead us away from the truth of the gospels, or if they tune into music that contains obscenities or promotes violence and sexual promiscuity – CUT IT OUT! 

Quite simply, if you spot a pattern of behavior where involvement in something leads you down unhealthy and destructive paths, give it up. CUT IT OUT!

But I know what you’re thinking. “CUT IT OUT! . . . Great advice, Deacon Bruce.  But easier said than done. How the heck do we do that? Here’s a few suggestions. 

1. Identify the Problem: Look in the mirror and do some introspection. And ask yourself two questions. First, what’s my reputation? Are you the “go to” person that people depend on for the scoop about everybody else? Are you the friend that everyone can count on for a good time, but is nowhere to be found when they’ve been dealt a bad hand or the chips are down? Second, what are the things about yourself, the things that you do, that you would never want anyone to know about? 
2. Avoid the Near Occasions on Sin: Remove yourself from the things, the people, the places that put yourself spiritually in harm’s way. Maybe that means ending some toxic friendships. Maybe that means limiting your time on the computer, or moving it to a public place in your house. 
3. Go to the Sacrament of Reconciliation: Confession is a win – win proposition. You get your sins forgiven but you also get sanctifying grace: God’s presence and assistance for you to change your heart, to break away from sinful patterns in your life, and to have the strength and courage to follow his way. 
4. Pray: Let me ask you a question: If you sincerely ask God to help you change, break away from the times your hand, your feet, your eyes, your tongue, your ears cause you to sin and distance yourself from Him, do you think He’s going to say no? Of course not! Pray for the Gifts of the Holy Spirit: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of the Lord. And if you do, you will receive the Fruits of the Holy Spirit: charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control, and fear of the Lord – everything you need to embrace radical transformation and avoid radical amputation. 

Today, Jesus the Divine Physician, puts before us two treatments for the spiritual cancer that we’re afflicted with. One is a regular dose of antibiotics (the Sacrament of Reconciliation), diet (a life of self-control avoiding the near occasions of sin), and exercise (prayer). It’s non-invasive, but will absolutely bring about spiritual wellness. The other course of treatment is radical surgery to cut off the diseased organ. Which one will you choose?

The Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time (Cycle B)

GETTING ALL A’S BUT FLUNKING LIFE

Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-8; James 1:17-18, 2B-22, 27; Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23 

Isn’t it funny how one thing can be considered bad news for some, but good news for others? So, for those of you under the age of eighteen, I have some bad news for you – School starts this week. For those of you who are parents, I have some good news for you – School starts this week! And for those of you who are teachers, I’ll let you decide whether or not that’s bad news or good news. As you know, I loved teaching. But I do have to admit to you that when it came to the month of August, I literally refused to look at a calendar, because I didn’t want to be reminded of how few days were left before early mornings, lesson plans, faculty meetings and grade books. Oh the power of the grade book! I recently heard a story about a little boy who wasn’t getting good marks. One day, he snuck behind his teacher at her desk and caught a glimpse of the failing test grade she was entering for him. The boy tapped the teacher on the shoulder and said, "I don't want to scare you, but my daddy says if I don't get better grades, somebody is going to get a spanking!"

In today’s Gospel, Jesus, the Divine Teacher, gives the Pharisees a glimpse at his grade book. But before we look at the grades the Pharisees received, we need to go back and consider what lesson it was that the Pharisees were being graded on. For that we need to go back a few thousand years in the history of Israel to consider an unprecedented moment in human history. 

We go back to when God chose a ragtag band of wandering Semites to be a Chosen People, his Chosen People. God entered into a special relationship of love with these people. God entered into a Covenant with Israel, saying, “I will be your God and you will be my people.” And to preserve that unique relationship of love, God gave the Chosen People the Commandments – rules for living that would preserve that relationship. The author of Deuteronomy captures the excitement when God, the Creator of the Universe, broke into human history. He calls the people of Israel a “great nation,” “a wise and discerning people" (Deut 4:6), for what other nation has a god so close to it as Israel is to Yahweh? What nation has statutes and decrees as just as the law God gave the people of Israel?

But the Law, the Commandents, were not given as an end to themselves. They were always intended as a means to an end. They were intended as a means for preserving this incredible love relationship which God had established.

Now come forward to the time of Jesus and the Pharisees we meet in today’s gospel.

In one of his books, the Catholic novelist Walter Percy has a character who says about another person, “He got all A’s, but flunked life!” That is essentially what Jesus, the Divine Teacher, is saying to the Pharisees, “You got all A’s at keeping the Commandments, as you understand them, but you flunked life.” The Pharisees, and many others at the time of Jesus, were focused on a complex set of rules for following the Law, but in some important ways had neglected the heart of the Covenant. They had lost their focus on what was the essence of the Covenant – a loving relationship with God and with all creation. Someone said the Pharisees had moved religion from the sanctuary into the kitchen – and that is what their questioning reveals. They have the Lord of Life, the Lord of the Dance, sitting in front of them, and they wanted to talk about the rules for washing hands! A poet says about the Pharisees, “they were so busy scrubbing ‘useless pots the whole day long’ that they completely ‘lost the dance and song.’”

But there is something unsettling about this scene with the Pharisees. It is easy for us to nod and agree that, Yes, the Pharisees got it wrong. They deserved bad grades. But what nags at my conscience is that we know the lesson here is not limited to the Pharisees. The Pharisees were, after all, at the time of Jesus, respected religious people. Like us, they were not thought of as bad people.

And so, we feel compelled to ask ourselves, “What grades would the Divine Teacher give us?” Do we in some way get all A’s but flunk life? Do we in our families, in our friendships, at work, in our church, focus narrowly on a strict observance of a multitude of rules, but fail to seek out and celebrate truly loving relationships? Have we become so scrupulous in the blind observance of the letter of the Law that we neglect the spirit of love on which and for which the law was written. It’s so easy to rattle off a list of commandments by rote. It’s so easy to follow rules to the “T” and expect other to do likewise. It’s so easy to point fingers, cast judgements and disdainfully shake our heads at those that don’t. It’s so much more challenging, not to look the other way, but rather to see beyond and treat those we deem as rule-breakers, miscreants, and sinners with love, compassion, tolerance and mercy. Do we at times move our religious focus from the sanctuary to the kitchen? The earliest Christians called the mass an “agape” – a love feast. Is it still a celebration of God’s love for us, our love for God, my love for you, your love for me, or has it degenerated to mere ritual and routine? Are we consumed with who is worthy and welcome to gather around our table or whose hands are considered unclean because of the sins we perceive they’re guilty of? If so, then our religious experience may be more pharisaic than Christian. We may be more preoccupied with scrubbing “useless pots all day long” and completely miss “the dance and the song.”

But there is one very reassuring thought in all of this: we are being taught daily by a most unusual teacher. Not the Teacher of the Year or even the century. But the Teacher of All Time and Eternity. Like the many good teachers so many of us have known, this teacher will never give up on us. This teacher is eternally patient, eternally loving. This teacher doesn’t want us to fail. He’s the teacher who tirelessly and relentlessly goes over the lesson again and again until we get it right. He’s the teacher who always makes himself available for extra help. He’s the teacher who enters our failing marks in his grade book, not with red ink, but with red pencil that can be erased and changed if we ultimately learn the lessons he has taught. Our Divine Teacher, Jesus Christ, has shown us convincingly, through his death on the cross, that he will make the ultimate sacrifice so that we too may share in that loving relationship with God, promised to our ancestors in faith so long ago. We rejoice now in that knowledge and celebrate it in our Eucharist.

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Cycle B)

WHAT KIND OF MESSIAH ARE YOU LOOKING FOR? 

Exodus 16: 2-4, 12-15; Ephesians 4: 17, 20-24; John 6: 24-35

Did you ever feel misunderstood? Did you ever feel that people don’t see the real you? Ever feel that people just don’t get you? Are you ever upset because you feel used, that people are only interested in what they can get out of you? If so, you’re in good company. I think most of us have felt that way at one time in our life or other. Some of us might feel that this is the story of our lives, a persistent pattern, an ongoing reality. If so, you’re in even better company than you realized, because I think that’s the Jesus we meet in today’s gospel.

Today’s Gospel is Part II of a five part series from John’s Gospel called the “Bread of Life Discourse.” Mark’s Gospel, which is the shortest of the four Gospels, is interrupted and supplemented with this important episode and inserted into the Cycle B readings. In it, the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fish, which we heard last Sunday, takes just nine verses to relate and some forty-two verses to explain. The feeding of the 5,000 is a gentle but central introduction of a succession of Gospel readings that take us through one of the most difficult, confusing, counter-intuitive chapters in all the gospels. John 6 is a rhetorical back and forth between Jesus and the crowd and the disciples about his identity, God's mission, and our response. In the coming weeks, Jesus will tell the people they must eat his flesh, and, when they object and ask him to clarify or soften his hyperbolic message, they ultimately reject him. 

Last week, if you recall, Jesus took five barley loaves and two fish and multiplied them to feed a crowd of five thousand hungry people. To them, this miracle is the greatest thing since sliced bread and it convinces them that Jesus must be the Messiah. Their attempt to carry Jesus off and crown him king, results in him literally running away because he will not have it. Why? After all, isn’t Jesus the Messiah? Didn’t he want the people to recognize this and believe in him. Yes, but on his terms and not theirs. For them, the Messiah would be a new King David, who would not only free them from Roman oppression and bring down their enemies, but lead Israel into an era of prosperity. He would be one who would take care of, not only their political needs, but their physical needs as well. But that wasn’t the type of Messiah that Jesus came to be. The kingdom Jesus came to rule over wasn’t the Kingdom of Israel, but the Kingdom of God. He came, not so much to nourish them physically, but spiritually.

It’s there that today’s Gospel picks up. As is often the case in John, Jesus turns the physical into the spiritual. They want bread—like the bread Moses provided in the wilderness, but Jesus had another kind of bread in mind. He told the people that they searched and found him, not so much because they witnessed a miracle, but because they had their bellies filled. They had temporal needs met, which at that moment are important to them. And Jesus uses this as an opportunity not to rebuke them, but to challenge them to go deeper. 

More than likely, many of us find ourselves in a similar situation. Maybe we’re here at Mass because we’re dealing with some major issue in our lives. Someone is sick, someone has died, someone is unemployed. And we’re fearful or angry or afraid. And it’s a good thing to come and bring that to Jesus. But Jesus tells the people and us that it wasn’t Moses who gave the people bread, it was God. Now God would offer them bread, just a different kind of bread—the bread of life. That promise leads to another request: show us this bread. Jesus answers: “I am the bread of life.” Just as food is essential for our physical safety and well-being, he is essential for our eternal safety and well-being. 

The thing is, the people did get it at least part right. They recognize at least part of Jesus' identity. He is a king. He admits his kingship when he stands before Pilate. Jesus is meant to rule. So the people have it partly correct. They don’t, however, see the whole picture. Jesus is meant to rule, but not for just a few years - and he doesn't belong to only one group. That's why Jesus withdraws from them - not that they are wrong, but they have too narrow a view of who he is.

So it is down to our day. A New York Times' columnist named Ross Douthat has written a book entitled, "Bad Religion - How We Became a Nation of Heretics." He argues that we Americans, by and large, still want Jesus to have some place in our lives, but that, like the people of his day, we want to limit him. That's the definition of heresy - not some new idea about Jesus, but a limited idea. "Heretics" emphasize one aspect of Jesus in a way that leaves everything else out.

Some, for instance, want a Jesus who simply affirms them as they are. It is “feel good religion,” one that justifies our actions and a Jesus that accepts us as we are, no matter what we do, rather than challenging us to become something more and better. In "Bad Religion" Ross Douthat also analyzes the "prosperity gospel" of Joel Osteen, the recycled Gnosticism of the DaVinci Code and the dangers of blending religion and nationalism - making a kind of "American Jesus." 

The question before us this Sunday is: Who is Jesus? Is he merely king or guru or business partner? Is he some small part of my life - or is he as necessary to me as food and drink. Jesus says that he is the “Bread of Life, the “Cup of Eternal Salvation?” He is the food that gives eternal life. He is the food that encourages and comforts the guilty sinner. He is the Wonder Bread that enables us to carry the heavy loads that life can put on our shoulders. He is the food that will strengthen us to face anything that comes our way. With Jesus, the Bread of Life, there is nothing more that we need. This is bread that God gives to us as a gift. This is the bread that is not only good for the here and now but also for eternity. This bread will change you. This bread will strengthen you for the journey ahead. This bread gives eternal life. This bread gives hope in the face of trouble, confusion and death.

Today Jesus reveals something about who he is, his true self. He comforts us in our troubles, but he doesn't say he will affirm us no matter what we do. He helps us have a better life, but he doesn't guarantee financial success. He teaches the purpose of life, but he doesn't give secret knowledge to make us superior to others. He is meant to rule our lives and our world, but he does not allow us to use him for personal political ends. What he tells us is this: "I am the Bread of Life." If we come to him, we will never hunger and thirst for anything else. He is the Bread of Life. That is Jesus' identity. Take him or leave him.

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Cycle B)

BEING THERE

Ezekiel 2:2-5; 2 Corinthians 2:7-10; Mark 6:1-6

Looking for a great movie to rent from Netflix this summer? One I would recommend is the 1979 comedy, "Being There." In it Peter Sellers plays a simple-minded gardener named Chance who has spent all his life in the Washington D.C. house of a wealthy old man. When the man dies, Chance is put out on the street with no knowledge of the world except what he has learned from television. Circumstances, however, lead him to become an unlikely political insider as his simplistic utterances about gardens, the weather and quotations from the television shows he has watched are repeatedly misunderstood as being profound and are interpreted as allegorical statements about business and the state of the economy. One phrase that Chance repeatedly says throughout the film is, "I like to watch," referring to television as his window to the world. 

"I like to watch." Seems like something that characterizes many in our society today. Maybe even a lot of us. We like to watch . . . television, movies, and YouTube videos; emails, text messages, snapchats and webcam conversations; sporting events and video or computer games, not to mention the stockpile of photos on Instagram and our cell phones. The problem with this is, rather than being participants in life, we often times become mere spectators. And sadly, the same thing can often be said about our faith lives. I think that’s what the people of Nazareth were guilty of in today’s Gospel.

They were there – on that Saturday, in that hometown, in that synagogue. They had heard the stories of “local boy makes good”: the snippets of things he supposedly said, the rumors of mighty deeds he reportedly accomplished. They were there – that Saturday, in that hometown, in that synagogue, in stilled silence as the carpenter’s son entered and walked to the bimah, the elevated place, where the scripture is read. All eyes focused on him as he unrolled the scroll of the oracles of the prophet Isaiah. They anxiously waited, wondering which passage he would choose to read and comment on. And the one he chose was a familiar one. One they had heard many times. One they had pinned their hopes on, for it spoke of the long-awaited messiah: 

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

“because he has anointed me

to bring glad tidings to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to let the oppressed go free,

and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.”

He rolled the scroll back up and handed it to the synagogue attendant. He paused as he made eye contact with each and every person gathered on that Saturday, in that hometown, in that synagogue . . . neighbors, friends, family. And then he spoke: “Today, in your hearing, this passage has been fulfilled.”

“What? What did he say? Wait a minute! Did I hear him right? Does he mean what I think he means? Can he possibly be saying that HE is the one spoken about, the long-awaited messiah? But we know him! He’s the carpenter . . . the son of Mary! We know his family!” And they took offence of him - so much so that in Luke’s version of the story, they take hold of him and lead him to the outskirts of town, and attempt to throw him head-first off a cliff. 

They were there – that Saturday, in that hometown, in that synagogue. They had come as spectators to hear a good homily and maybe witness a miracle or two. But one thing they forgot to bring along with them was their faith. Mark tells us, “He was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them, (for) he was amazed at their lack of faith.” The congregation in that synagogue in Nazareth was content being there, just watching. But when they were challenged to something greater – FAITH - and when his message wasn’t to their liking, wasn’t what they wanted to hear, they rejected him. They were content with their lives as spectators and felt threatened by Jesus’ invitation to active, living faith in him, and all it implies. 

What about us? "I like to watch" should never be the catch phrase of a Christian. For faith is more than just passively being there – or here. Faith is more than a mere mental exercise. It goes beyond intellectual acknowledgement and blind adherence to doctrine. Faith transforms us. It shapes and molds us. It motivates us. It energizes us. Faith, if it is true faith, is active, growing, deepening, LIVING. Never stagnant, idle, self-satisfied, but always discontent: always wanting more - wanting to be more . . . wanting to do more. It's a participation in the world, for faith goes beyond belief and into action. It throws open the doors of the church and ventures out into the world, to be in the world but not of the world. As you’ve heard me say before, "Christian" is more than a proper noun; it's an action verb. A Christian must be a crusader against injustice, a righter of wrongs, a beacon of hope, a minister of charity, a shouter of good news, a reconciler, and a servant to the unstated, stated understated, obvious and not so obvious needs of all people. 

That’s why former Governor of Florida and current Republican presidential hopeful, Jeb Bush, was so misinformed two weeks ago when he said, "I think religion ought to be about making us better as people and less about things that end up getting in the political realm." Aren't the things that make us better people part of the political realm? Did not many of the Hebrew prophets speak out on social justice issues? In addition to ministering to the spiritual needs of people, didn't Jesus heal the sick, feed the hungry and speak out against the excessive burdens that groups like the Pharisees placed on the common folk? Wasn't his ministry one of inclusiveness, embracing those who were forced to exist on the fringes of society and welcoming them into the Kingdom of God? And so, shouldn't climate change, human rights, the right to life, the economy, the plight of the hungry and homeless, and health care be things that are rightly in the religious realm and not just the political? In Jesus vision, YES! 

Jesus was the messiah, the “anointed one.” He said that he had been anointed by the Father to proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord. And that is the same sacred ministry that you and I accepted as our own the day of our baptism when we became “anointed ones” as the chrism oil was poured on our heads. 

Summer is a time to kickback, to escape, to chill. But don’t just watch it fly by. Don’t find yourself on Labor Day Weekend bemoaning the end of summer and regretting missed opportunities to live life and enjoy life to the fullest. Don’t watch life go by in front of a television, computer or cell phone screen. Take the precious gift of time that you have been given to be with nature, to be with your friends, to be with God. Be an active participant in life rather than a passive observer. Don’t watch. DO! And live your life as a Christian the same way. Yes, be THERE for your family and your friends, and be HERE in church. But in all the places and situations that you find yourself, don’t just “be there” but leave your mark there. Be like Jesus: Speak the truth. Seek the lost. Touch lives. Heal the hurting. Give of yourself. Yes being there might put you in the right place. But what good is being in the right place if your presence there makes no difference?

So if you get the opportunity this summer, watch the movie “Being There” . . . On second thought, DON’T. Don’t become like Chance or like those who gathered on that Saturday, in that hometown, in that synagogue who merely liked to watch. Don’t just BE THERE, but GET OUT THERE.

The Parables of the Gift and the Symphony

A parable is a short story, drawn from everyday life, that teaches a truth or a moral principal. It was Jesus' favorite teaching technique. A year ago I gave an assignment to my students to compose their own parable.  They, in turn, challenged me to write one.  I didn't at that time, but I guess perhaps the circumstances of life sometimes motivate and inspire. So here are two parables that I have just recently written: the Parable of the Gift and the Parable of the Symphony.  

And the great teacher said: "Once there was a gift-giver. The gift-giver had a special gift to offer. He planned it, perfected it, and gave it to those he loved. But the wrapping was tattered . . . the bow crushed, the paper torn. Those to whom he gave the gift cried, 'Outrage! How could you? The bow is crushed and the paper is torn! This is unacceptable!!!' And so, they rejected the gift of the gift-giver, never seeing its worth; never appreciating the love and the courage of the gift-giver, focusing only on the way it was wrapped. And the gift-giver cried, not so much that his gift was rejected, but because he would never offer the gift again. Those that have eyes ought to see."

And then the great teacher said, "Here is another parable, similar to the first: Once there was a composer of song who created a magnificent symphony. The refrains were lilting, the music soared, the melody stirred and moved both the heart and the soul. But in the magnificent symphony he included one chord that was dissonant. Those that heard the symphony smiled, nodded and applauded until that one dissonant chord was played. They covered their ears, rose to their feet and shouted, 'Offensive! How could you have written this! It is unpleasing to our ears!!!' And they left the music hall, forgetting the beauty of the symphony, choosing to remember only the one dissonant chord. And the composer of song cried, for his magnificent symphony would never again be heard. He who has ears ought to hear."

Pentecost Sunday (ABC)

PENTECOST: Promise, Presence and Power 

Acts 2:1-11; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-7, 12-13; John: 20:19-23 

It happened on the Jewish feast of Pentecost, the Festival of Weeks, Shavuot, seven weeks and one day after the Feast of Passover. It was a festival of the Harvest, the thanksgiving for the Gifts of God, and came to also be for the Jews a celebration of when God’s greatest gift to them was given, the gift of the Law, given to Moses on Mount Sinai. It was a festival that was immensely popular and very well attended, not just because of its religious nature, but because this was the only day that a faithful Jew was allowed to drink to excess. In fact, some rabbis of the period taught that all of the Jewish men had to drink to the point of intoxication on this day as a sign of their gratitude to God for the gift of the fruit of the vine.

It happened in an upper room: whirling wind banging shutters open, gusts grabbing and pulling at long garments, plumes of dust from the street below. Their faces—Mary’s, the Apostles’—startled, fearful, anxious.

More wind, and some light, a blazing light. And then a dove, serene and demur, hovering over the overturned tables, shuffling sandals. Gasps, then cries of recognition. Fear gives way to exuberant joy. Delightful disorder! Upraised hands waving, sounds of preaching escaping from mouths full of surprise. Tongues shouting, singing, speaking with fluid syntax the syllables of strange languages strangely making sense.

These are components that capture our fancy today. Like a tent revival down south, the Feast of Pentecost is an outing of color and heat and movement that even the most rubrical among us cannot deny. Yet, this culmination of the fifty days of Easter is but a beginning, a birth . . . of the Church. The fanfare in the Upper Room is but a sendoff as we see disciples rushing down steps, pouring into the streets of Jerusalem to proclaim the Good News with confidence and hope. 

And today, on the rush of the wind of the Holy Spirit, we Christians are energized and empowered as we reach the climax of our seasonal celebration of Christ’s resurrection. It’s Pentecost, the day God gives us the wind of the Spirit in our sails and also the fire of the Spirit in our hearts—the fire of divine presence—to proclaim and serve the Risen Christ. For on Pentecost, amidst wind and tumbling tongues of fire, the Church, as the people of Christ, was born and continues regularly to be reborn!

Did you ever ask yourself why Pentecost is considered the birthday of the Church? Why not Easter, the day our Lord conquered sin and death, and proved that everything he taught, everything he said about himself was true? Why not on at the Ascension, when Jesus commissioned his Apostles to “Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature?” Why Pentecost? Because that day was a day of presence; it was a day of promise, and it was a day of power. 

• It was a Day of Presence: Jesus had told his Apostles, “I will be with you always, even until the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20). And that day, Jesus kept his word. By sending his Spirit TO them, he remained WITH them. And his abiding presence is with us still: guiding us, strengthening us, counseling us, comforting us, transforming us. We, as Church and as the individual members of it, are not alone . . . and never will be. The Spirit is the presence of God for all of us, not just for those early disciples. 
• It was a Day of Promise: Jesus had told them, “The Advocate, the holy Spirit that the Father will send in my name—he will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.” (John 14:26). And on Pentecost, Jesus fulfilled that promise. He sends the Holy Spirit upon them, and with the presence of the Holy Spirit come the Gifts of the Spirit, one of which is Understanding. And so, all that Jesus had taught them over the three years he was with them, they now hear with new ears. The tongues of fire that danced above their heads illuminate their minds. What they heard before in the darkness of confusion and ignorance, they now see and understand in the light of faith. 
• And it was a Day of Power: For on that day, those gathered in that Upper Room lived the Gospel. On that day, “Church” went beyond being a proper noun to becoming an action verb. On that day, eleven men and a handful of women left the prison cell of the Upper Room that had held them captive in fear and doubt and ignorance to set the world on fire. On that day God used uneducated fishermen, a tax collector, and some other nobodies from nowhere, to transform the world. On the day Christianity was taken beyond the walls of that Upper Room, the first church, out into the streets, out into the real world to be proclaimed and lived. And they do so with so much joy, and energy and enthusiasm that the people mistakenly believe that they have begun celebrating the harvest festival a bit early in the day. But rather than being drunk with new wine, they have become intoxicated with the Spirit of God. And so it must be today. We need to quit hiding behind closed doors, beyond the comfort, the beauty, the security of the walls of this church to BECOME Church to a world that challenges our beliefs, mocks how we live our lives, and frightens us with terror and violence. We, like those eleven men and handful of women, are called to set the world on fire. For, as the poet William Blake wrote:

Unless the eye catch fire, God will not be seen. 

Unless the ear catch fire, God will not be heard. 

Unless the tongue catch fire, God will not be named. 

Unless the Heart catch fire, God will not be loved. 

Unless the mind catch fire, God will not be known. 

The celebration of Pentecost must never be the mere commemoration of a historical event. The celebration of Pentecost is the affirmation of the living reality of God in our lives. For we Catholics Christians are not just members of an organization, or a social body, or a fellowship of people. We are God’s People formed by and united by His Spirit into the living Body of Christ. We are sacred. We are holy. We are set apart by God and for God. We are the living presence of Christ on earth. We here at St. Therese, in this Diocese, in this township, in this state, in this country, in this world, have been empowered by our Master, Jesus Christ, with his Spirit, the Holy Spirit. We are called to continue his work on earth.

May every action of our lives radiate the dignity that God bestowed upon us on that first Pentecost Sunday. May our lives burn with the same intensity of energy, enthusiasm, and dedication as those eleven men and handful of women who rushed from an upper room and into the streets to proclaim Good News and to live lives in the example of their Master. For the same Spirit has been given to us all.

The Fourth Sunday of Easter (Cycle B)

THE VOICE OF THE SHEPHERD

Acts 4:8-12; 1 John 3:1-2; John 10:11-18,27-30 

Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole, Tony Bennett: unmistakable voices whose sound, style and phrasing have the power to take us back to a time and to a place of first love . . . of romance . . . of heart break. Who can ever erase from their memory the commanding voice of FDR, the poetry and power in the voice of Martin Luther King, the trusted voice of Walter Cronkite on the evening news? There are just some voices you never forget.

Last year, I celebrated Christmas with my brother Bob and his family. After we had exchanged presents, my oldest niece, Kathleen, said, “Uncle Bruce, I have one more gift for you.” She then took out her laptop and sat next to me on the couch. She clicked on an audio file of an old cassette recording that she had transferred to her computer. It was a cassette that I made for her when she was ten years old to accompany a tape recorder I was giving her for Christmas. And so, as I listened, I was transported back thirty-three years to hear my youthful voice deejaying a selection of Christmas songs, narrating “The Night Before Christmas,” singing “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer with a Norwegian accent, and basically making a complete fool of myself! And as I heard my younger self signing off and wishing her a Merry Christmas, my somewhat maturer self said, “Kathleen, I can’t believe you kept that all these year!” Kathleen said, “Wait Uncle Bruce. It’s not finished.” And then I immediately recognized a voice that I hadn’t remembered was on that tape. A voice I hadn’t heard in sixteen and a half years. The sweet, loving voice of my mother. And after that, a voice I hadn’t heard in four years: the kind and gentle voice of my father. There are just some voices you never forget. 

If you noticed, this morning I extended the Gospel to include three lines also found in the tenth chapter of John’s Gospel (Please don’t tell the bishop!) But I wanted you to hear everything that Jesus had to say about himself when he calls himself the Good Shepherd. And I think those three lines are important to us.

Jesus says that his sheep hear his voice. “HEAR” not “heard.” Present tense not past. Christianity is a relationship, and every relationship is established and maintained through communication. And so we shouldn’t chalk up to fantasy, wishful thinking, or pious sentiment that God IS speaking to us, and we CAN hear His voice.

The fact is God is always speaking to us, but the problem is we aren’t always listening, or we aren’t quite sure how to listen. And the truth of the matter is, we can’t obey him or follow his lead unless we hear him—and we can’t hear him unless we understand how he speaks to us today. God is a pure spirit, and so we need to seek out, feel comfortable with, and accept the way that a spirit communicates: not with a human voice, but through some means outside of himself, adapted to our nature. He may use things we can see and hear in order to stir our imagination, or he may enter directly into our thoughts. 

But we’re like the prophet Elijah. We seek God’s voice in lightning bolts and claps of thunder, in the loud and the dramatic. Yes, God can shout, but as Elijah learned, God more often whispers. He’s heard in the subtle and the ordinary. God nudges us, guides us, answers us, through the still small voice of intuitions that come while we pray, while we meditate, while we dream . . . in thoughts that persist . . . in a sense of peace that fills us when we consider one option over others . . . and in the circumstances of our lives. The voice of the Shepherd comes to us in the truth of the Scriptures, the teachings of the church, the insights of the saints, and the advice that comes from others who follow his way. 

So if God is still speaking to us, why do we find it so difficult to hear his voice? There are many reasons. Sometimes we’re afraid to listen. We don’t want to hear what God has to say to us. We know that he may ask something of us that’s difficult to do or give. Instead of listening, we close our ears and pretend not to hear.

Sometimes we don’t hear God because we’re too busy putting our own needs ahead of everything else. Our desires to have more, and to be more, are often in direct conflict with what God desires for us. It’s difficult to hear his voice over own voices calling for more.

Most often, though, we simply don’t recognize God’s voice over the roar of life around us. Our world is noisy and demands so much of our time and energy. We're so focused on everything else that we fail to hear God’s gentle whispers in our lives. Often we're so busy and so consumed with everything around us that we miss him even when he's screaming our name, trying to get our attention.

And then there are many voices in our world, clamoring for our attention, making demands of us, extending promises to us. There are imitators, calling us down the wrong path. We’ve got to know how to tell the difference between the authentic voice of the Lord, and all of the other imitations out there. So, as you pray, as you listen, pay attention: 

+ If the voice you hear encourages you to trust, then it’s probably our Lord. If the voice you hear leads you to cynicism, then it is not. 

+ If the voice you hear calls you to be generous and self-transcending, then it’s from the God of Love. If it calls you to selfishness and self-centeredness, it’s an imposter.

+ If the voice you hear calls you to be faithful, to be true to your word, to keep your promises, it’s of God. If the voice invites you to break your promise and lie, it’s not of God. 

+ If your hear an invitation to spend more of your life focused on others, to measure your success by the difference you make in someone else’s life, it’s probably from the one who said, “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.” 

+If the voice you hear calls you to be a peacemaker, a justice-doer, a hope-giver, it’s from the same one who once said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, they will be called “Children of God.” 

+ If you hear an encouragement to treasure life, set aside angers, forgive and forgive some more, it’s from the one who said we need to forgive seventy times seven times and who, himself, looked down upon those that had just crucified him and forgave them. 

+ If the voice you hear tells you that you are deeply loved by the eternal God, if the voice you hear tells you that you have a dignity that no one can take away from you, if you hear a reminder that Jesus loved you so much that he was willing to die for you, then that voice is from the God of All Goodness. But if the voice you hear tells you that you’re not worth it, that there is no hope for you, it’s a lie from the Evil One.

“I am the Good Shepherd. My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” This week, let’s quiet our minds and open our hearts to hear God’s voice speaking to us. He longs to have meaningful conversations with us. We must decide to listen for His voice; if we don’t, we may miss the comfort, the inspiration, the encouragement God bestows upon us when He speaks intimately with us. This week, listen to that still small voice speaking to your mind and heart. You know the voice. There are just some voices you never forget.

Students' Stations of the Cross

I recently assigned my Eighth Grade students at St. Therese School to write meditations and prayers on the Stations of the Cross. Below are the ones I chose to present to the rest of the school for our Holy Thursday retreat day. What is presented here certainly shows, not only the talent of the students, but their deep sense of faith. I hope what these students wrote touches you as you pray them. 

The Station of the Cross

By the Eighth Grade Students

Of St. Therese School

The First Station: Jesus is Condemned to Death

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.
All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: Did Pontius Pilate know that he was killing the Son of God? Does he know that he was killing our Savior? Pontius Pilate saw nothing wrong in Jesus, yet he handed him over to be crucified. He followed the words of his citizens instead of trusting his gut feeling of letting him go. Jesus was sentenced to death for teaching love and care. Nobody stood up and defended Jesus in his time of most need. (Sean Murphy)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Whenever we feel like something going on in our lives is unfair and we don’t understand it or accept it, help us to remember the selfless act Jesus did for us. Help us to remember always the cruelty he was faced with and how our problems, what we think is pain, are nothing compared to what Jesus went through. He was chosen to be condemned, and he responded that violence is never the answer. He didn’t fight back. Help us to remember that everything happens for a reason. When we feel like giving up, help us to remember that Jesus never gave up. Amen. (Taylor Rippon)

The Second Station: Jesus Takes Up His Cross

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: Jesus is handed his cross on which he will die. The cross is very heavy and immense. Every step he takes brings him a step closer to our hearts and God. Jesus was handed his cross with open arms and love, just like he will be when we go to heaven. When Jesus picks up his cross and starts to walk on the path and up the hill, he is showing us with his mercy and love the path to eternal life with him and his Father. Jesus was so selfless that, instead of being angry with the people who doubted him, he asked God to forgive them. (Bridget Doherty)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Lord, give me the courage and faith to accept my crosses. Send the Holy Spirit to guide me towards you and away from sin during difficult times. Help my faith to be at its strongest when I am faced with hardships. Jesus, when I am struggling, remind me of your great sacrifice. Remind me of the day you took up your cross for my sake. Remind me of your will. And remind me of the reward of eternal life given to those who act in your name. Amen. (Matthew Rose)

The Third Station: Jesus Falls the First Time

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader:

Jesus falls, and he can’t get up alone

Someone helps Him get up, and he lets out a groan.

Mary cries out to help her tired, beaten son;

He keeps on moving, He knows it has to be done.

Despite the harsh treatment Jesus received,

He still made his trek up the hill of Calvery.

Jesus taught us that we could always persevere;

If we remember always to keep him near. (Olivia Guevara)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Jesus, help me always remember that you are here for me when I fall. Remind me that you, too, have fallen, and give me the strength to get back up. I know I may fall again, but you will always be there to help me get up again. Amen. (Olivia Greer)

The Fourth Station: Jesus Meets His Sorrowful Mother

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: Can you imagine yourself having to bear the weight of a splintering cross, while staring into your mother’s tearing eyes? As Mary slowly followed Jesus on the path to his death, she mourned and stumbled behind. All she wanted to do was help him carry his heavy load. When the guards allowed her to comfort him, she forgot about everyone else in the world, and poured her heart into Jesus’ hands. Her eyes, staring into his eyes, were already enough for Jesus. Jesus, tired and damp with perspiration, loved the touch of his mother’s hand on his, and he felt a sense of contentment as his mother followed in his footsteps. (Sarah Lawrence)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Jesus, help us to notice the people in our life who are willing to support and encourage us when we may be going through a difficult time in life. Help us to accept the help we are offered, so that we may realize there are people like you in our lives, and that they truly love and care for us. Please allow us to look to our parents for help when we are in need. Amen. (Olivia Guevara)

The Fifth Station: Simon of Cyrene Helps Jesus Carry His Cross

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: In this station, Jesus’ shoulders become too weak to carry the weight of the cross and he is unable to proceed. The soldiers see this casual man, Simon of Cyrene, who seems strong and energetic. They snatch him, and force him to carry the cross on his own shoulders. Simon did not want to help Jesus when he was asked to, but he serves this man at the time of his greatest need. This reminds us that our acts of assistance hold a great amount of value in the Kingdom of God. (Dyanna DeMaria)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Lord, open our eyes and ears so that we may see when others need our help. Provide us with the resources to assist those around us, so that we may feel compelled to get out of our comfort zone to rescue those who suffer. Use our hands and feet to serve you each day. Amen. (Dyanna DeMaria)

The Sixth Station: Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus with Her Veil

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: Jesus’ fragile body cannot take all this humiliation and distress, and after falling twice, he is tired and weak. Yet he knows that he must open the Gates of Heaven for all of the souls in Purgatory, and so he gets up and pushes on. Wearing the crown of thorns, his face is covered with blood and sweat, and an innocent bystander known as Veronica sees Jesus’ face, and wipes it clean. To her surprise, Jesus leaves the imprint of his face upon the cloth. Jesus appreciates our little devotions to help the least of our brothers, for he said when we do that, we do it for him. Jesus wants us to help people in need, and those who are bearing a heavy load. He was grateful for people like Veronica who follow his example. We must be like her and assist innocent people that are in need of help. (Kayla Conde)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Jesus, when others refuse to acknowledge you, give me the grace to act as you would want me to. When others need help, let me go to them as Veronica did to you. Guide me along the path to you in Heaven, which Veronica walked along when she wiped your face. Amen. (Matthew Rose)

The Seventh Station: Jesus Falls the Second Time

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: Jesus had to carry that heavy cross with no one to help him. He is so tired and weak he can barely go on any further. So he falls once more. He feels every motion and move he makes with his body. He feels like giving up, but he keeps going on for us. When he falls to the ground, even though he is hurt and weak and feels like giving up, he doesn’t. We should be like Jesus when we feel like giving up, we too should keep on going, even when it hurts. (Eva Gergatsoulis)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Father, when I have struggles in my life, please help me to remember that I can get through them by praying to you and remembering that Jesus did the same, and that he struggled as we are struggling now. Amen. (Darya Don)

The Eighth Station: Jesus Meets the Women of Jerusalem

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: In this station, Jesus meets women who are crying for him. Even though suffering as he was, Jesus had in his heart to console these women and to show them true compassion. Their reaction to what was going on implied that they had very strong feelings about his punishment. There were crowds of people watching the crucifixion for entertainment, and crowds of people shouting bad things at Jesus. But this small group of women wept for him. (Olivia Greer)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Jesus, there are things in the world today that are wrong. There are people being killed for following you, and people who use it as a source of entertainment. Help me to always feel for others, even if I am not going through the same things they are. Amen. (Olivia Greer)

The Ninth Station: Jesus Falls the Third Time

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: Jesus falls for the third time on the road. It was getting harder for Jesus to carry his cross. It was growing heavier and heavier, but Jesus gets up and struggles to keep on going. His love for us was so great, and he knew that he had to die on the cross for us, so he gets up. He doesn’t quit. He keeps going on. (Darya Don)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Jesus, please help me to be a Good Samaritan and help people when they fall, not only physically, but also spiritually. If someone falls away from you or the Church, please help me to guide him or her back onto the path to eternal life with you in heaven. Also, please help me to never give up, just like you did on your journey to the cross. Amen. (Sarah Lawrence)

The Tenth Station: Jesus Is Stripped of His Clothes

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: As if he hadn’t been humiliated enough, Jesus is now stripped of his clothing. Clothing gives a man his privacy or his dignity. Not only has Jesus been beaten, but he must deal with being stripped of his clothes and being watched while the audience before him acts as if they were watching an entertaining show. This should be a lesson for us never to find amusement or entertainment in someone else’s pain or suffering. At the foot of the cross, the soldiers draw lots to divide his worthless possessions, his clothes. No shield or security protects him. As the soldiers and the people stare at him, Jesus stares up at heaven. (Enam Akasreki & Charlotte Matthews)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Father, when we feel embarrassed, help us to remember the humiliation that Jesus went through. Help us to be strong, as Jesus was, and to stand tall. Our Lord was put through a situation none of us can even imagine being in. Help us remember that Jesus didn’t run away or cower. He stood tall and did what he was meant to do, God’s plan for him, even after the humiliation, even after the pain. Help us to remember this at times of embarrassment. Amen. (Taylor Rippon)

The Eleventh Station: Jesus Is Nailed to the Cross

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: No words can describe the pain Jesus felt at this moment. It is beyond imagining having nails pounded into your hands. Jesus endured all the pain for the sake of us. He had an immense love for all of us as he went through all of his suffering and pain. He didn’t deserve this. When we are going through bad times, we might endure some unnecessary pain. But we must think of what Jesus had to go through, the agony he went through while on the cross, and realize that our conditions could be worse. (Marc Bain)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Jesus, when I am in pain, please help me to keep on going. Remind me to think of the pain you went through and see that my problems could be worse. And when I am struggling, please help me. Amen. (Marc Bain)

The Twelfth Station: Jesus Dies on the Cross

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: Jesus has walked to the site of the crucifixion wearing a crown of thorns and carrying the weight of the cross on his back. He has suffered through the pain of the nails being driven through his flesh and into the wooden cross on which he is crucified. Now, the suffering rises to its highest point as he approaches his death before all of his hardships come to an end. Jesus reaches the end of his journey to death and will soon return to his Heavenly Fathers. As Catholics, we choose to follow the path of Jesus to an eternal life. We must keep this idea with us at all times. We must remember to act as Jesus did in every aspect of our earthly life so that we may begin a new life with him after death. The only end brought upon Jesus at his death was the end of his suffering. (Matthew Rose)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Lord, guide me along your path so that I, too, may earn eternal life with you in Heaven. Help to keep my focus on the final results of my actions and not what they bring me here on Earth. Remind me in everything I do that you and your will alone are most important in gaining eternal life after death on Earth. Let all mourn for the loss of their loved ones, but rejoice that they are sharing eternal life with you. Amen. (Matthew Rose)

The Thirteenth Station: Jesus is Taken Down from the Cross

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: In this station, Jesus is taken down from the cross. Everyone sees him as dead now, never to return. His mother, Mary, can now see what has been done to her son for nothing but his teaching love. Those who followed Jesus saw that this had been a brutal and unjust way for him to die. Little did anyone know that they had not seen the last of him. (Olivia Greer)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Jesus, it seemed like you were gone after you died. It may feel like you are gone again sometimes if my prayers are not immediately answered or if things in my life are going wrong and I don’t know why. Help me remember you died for all humanity, and you are never actually away from us. Amen. (Olivia Greer)

The Fourteenth Station: The Body of Jesus is Buried in the Tomb

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: Jesus has suffered, died, and is now being buried. His lifeless body is placed within a tomb. All of the disbelievers are joyful at the end of Jesus’ journey, but the true joy he is to bring has not yet come. All of his disciples mourn at the last sight of his deceased body, but this lifeless state is only temporary for Jesus. Some have probably lost their hope in Jesus’ plan, as they now see him being laid behind a tremendous stone, wondering how he would save them now. But at times, God works in mysterious ways. It is important to know that each step in God’s plan is essential for its final outcome. 

We must act as disciples of Jesus. As he acted out God’s will through his Passion, we too must act as God would want us to. Jesus held on to his faith every step of his journey, knowing that it would not be God’s will for him to endure this suffering unless it brought about marvelous good. While it may seem that no good has come from it, since Jesus has truly died and is now seemingly being placed in his tomb for eternity, it is only a matter of time before God’s plan unfolds in the lives of his disciples. We must remember that God’s plan may not always make sense to us in its many forms, but knowing this helps us to keep our faith strong throughout the peaks and valleys of our lives. (Matthew Rose)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Lord, when your plan may seem to have disappointed our expectations, as it may have seemed to your followers who watched your Son being placed in the tomb, help us to know that your plan for us is unceasing in our lives. Keep in our minds the truth that you have a path for each of us. Help us remember that some of the obstacles you present to us hide nothing but blessings. (Matthew Rose)

The Fifteen Station: THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS

Leader: We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you.

All: Because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Reader: The Stations of the Cross are steps to Jesus’ death. Because of this, every one of them are devastating and difficult to listen to or watch. Unlike the others, the Resurrection is something that we, as Christians, look forward to. When Jesus was missing from the tomb, people were afraid. They thought that someone had stolen his body, but when they saw him proclaiming his Good News and praying with people, they were glad and relieved. It is the most amazing experience a person could ever observe. Jesus coming back to life was a shock to many people, but it also was a breathtaking moment in the history of humankind. Jesus not only saved us from sin, but he was an amazing role model to how we should live as Christians. (Sarah Lawrence)

Leader: Let us pray . . . 

All: Jesus, please help me to be a faithful Christian and a role model to people in my family, school and community. Please help me if I’m having hardships to remember what you have done for me. Each day help me make someone smile, and help me sacrifice something for someone. If I mess up, please help me “come back to life,” or help me get back onto my journey with God , just like Jesus did when he resurrected from the dead. Please help me keep these stations in my mind at all times so I can remember the sacrifice you made for us, especially if I am feeling ungrateful. Please help me ultimately become a better Christian throughout my life. Amen. (Sarah Lawrence)