The Fourth Sunday of Advent (Year B)

BE BORN IN US TODAY 

The Fourth Sunday of Advent (Year B) 

2 Samuel 7: 1-5; 8b-12, 14a; Romans 16:25-27; Luke 1: 26-38 

One simple, three letter, one syllable word – “YES.” And despite it being a simple, three letter, one syllable word, “YES” is one of the most powerful words in our vocabulary. “YES” can make things happen. “YES” can change lives. 

A man and woman say "YES" to their marriage vows and the two become one. A man and woman say "YES" to life and they become a father and mother and their lives are never the same. Elected officials vote "YES" and war is declared or peace is established. A man says "YES" on the day of his ordination, and then, by his words, simple bread and wine are able to be transformed into the true presence of Christ. "YES” – simple, three letters, one syllable, but oh so powerful! 

Across the heavens an angel races to Nazareth. “Do not be afraid . . . All things are possible with God,” he announces to a virgin. And sweeter than the song of an angel is her response: “YES . . . Let it be.” And this “YES,” uttered by a girl no older than fourteen years of age, living in a nondescript village in Galilee, was one of the most powerful words ever spoken in all of history. Her “YES” brought forth something truly marvelous. So marvelous, in fact, that we have been celebrating what happened because of her "YES" for more than 2,000 years. Her “YES”- more than a word that was powerful . . . her “YES” – more than just a word that caused something marvelous . . . her “YES” – so powerful . . . so marvelous . . . that it brought about a miracle! Mary of Nazareth changed the world forever when she offered her simple “YES” to the angel Gabriel and agreed to give birth to the Son of God. Because of her “YES,” God entered our world, died for our sins, and opened wide the gates of heaven. 

Mary said “YES” at such a tender age. She said “YES” to having God’s son, not knowing the heartache that could occur. She said “YES, trusting in the Lord’s love and yet having no idea what that could look like. How could she know that saying “YES to God included a pierced heart and unspeakable sorrow, and at the same time, saying “YES” meant such tender love for a child so dear? 

Today, God asks for our assent to many things. He asks us to be people of faith and people of conviction who live out the truth of what we believe. He asks us to take up our cross daily and follow him. He asks us to love one another as He has loved us. And he asks us to forgive one another seventy times seven times. But God asks something even greater of us. He asks for our “YES” to do the same thing he asked of Mary: to give birth to Jesus to our world today. 

For we are all meant to be mothers of God. What good is it if this eternal birth of the divine Son of God took place two thousand years ago, but does not take place within ourselves? And, what good is it for Mary to give birth to the Son of God if we do not also give birth to him in our time and our culture? Incarnation is an ongoing and steady process, not just an historic event. But, like Mary, we are given the gift of choice. We can say yes to a creative, generative, transformative calling or we can shrink in self-doubt, discouragement or fear. 

How can this miracle take place in us? It can only when we follow Mary’s example: 

First, we need to be silent . . . We need to wait . . . We need to be attentive . . . We need to listen. We need to be persons of prayer who are aware that prayer is not a one-way monologue (ours), but that we need to carve out a time and a place in our daily lives to break away from the din of our noisy world and our all too busy lives - to listen . . . to hear the messages of angels that reveal God’s Word and Will. 

Second, we need faith. We need to trust that God’s in charge . . . that he knows what He’s doing . . . that His will for goodness WILL be done. We need to believe that our lives have purpose and that, despite our lowliness, God sees something good in each one of us and that He can use us to make His Son alive in our world through our testimony and through our example that proclaim that His kingdom is at hand . . . right here . . . right now 

Third, we need humility. We need to acknowledge that it’s not just about us . . . our wants . . . our plans . . . our success. There’s something greater, and sometimes we need to abandon our plans, our dreams, our desires to put God and His purposes first. We need, like Mary, to acknowledge that we are mere handmaids of the Lord.  

And fourth, we need to strive to be blameless. We can’t be sinLESS, as Mary was, but we can all strive to be less sinFULL. Purity of mind, heart and soul become the fitting womb for Jesus to grow and be nurtured in. They become the manger where others - shepherds, kings and all who travel long and winding roads to Bethlehem can find our new-born Savior. 

We are called to incarnate Christ in our lives, to clothe our lives with him, so that people can see him in us, touch him in us, recognize him in us. We can and do become bearers of the Son of God when we are: 

• Bearers of Love - when it’s so much easier to put a wall of indifference around ourselves to protect us from being hurt. 
• Bearers of Mercy - when it’s so much easier to harbor grudges. 
• Bearers of Peace - when revenge is oh so satisfying. 
• Bearers of the Light of Truth – when we’re counter-cultural and live the values of the Gospel, when it’s so much easier just to go with the flow. 
• Bearers of Compassion – when we feed the hungry and thirsty, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, and look after the needs of the ill, when it is so much easier to look out for our own self-interests. 

Saying “YES”, consenting for the Son of God to be born in us and through us to an often self-center world that seeks pleasure in things, believes that might makes right and is content with “truth” that is relative, may be hard, uncomfortable and risky. But it was to an adolescent virgin two thousand years ago too. 

BUT if we say “YES” to what God asks of us, then good things happen. God’s kingdom grows a little bit more visible in our world. God’s compassion and love touch the hurting. Jesus Christ takes on flesh in us and continues to walk this earth. 

Our “YES” to God in things both big and small makes good things happen. Our “YES” to God, makes Christmas happen today. It allows us to share Mary’s vocation in bringing to birth Emmanuel, “God with us.” Our “YES” allows Jesus to be born into our world anew, not for one moment in history, but every day and for all time. 

O Holy Child of Bethlehem 

Descend on us we pray. 

Cast out our sin, and enter in. 

Be born in us today.

THE PARABLE OF BO 

The Solemnity of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, 

King of the Universe (Year A) 

Ezekiel 34: 11912, 15-17; 1 Corinthians 15: 20-26, 28; Matthew 25: 31-46 

Once there was a man named Bo who was beloved by God. God blessed Bo abundantly with a loving family, good health, close friends, multiple talents, a successful career. And in turn, Bo loved God and responded to all God had given him through his abiding faith, consistent hope, and pervading love. Bo was gentle, humble, simple, ever-cheerful, witty and wise. He was a teacher and possessed eloquence in speech and had the ability to make the most complex of concepts uncomplicated and understandable. 

One day, Bo told his students that they need not fear Satan nor be enamored by his power, for only God is the all-powerful One and, in fact, Satan possesses no power, except that which we give him. Satan heard what Bo had said and became outraged. He said to God, “Did you hear what he said? How dare him!! He thinks I have no power? Let me teach him a lesson. Let me show him the power that I possess. Let me destroy him by taking away all that you have blessed him with. Then he will kneel before me in terror at the awesome command and control I wield over him and all mortal creatures.” And God responded, “Let it be as you request. Tempt him, torment him, attack him if you wish. But you may not take his life.” 

And so, Satan unleashed his fury on Bo. He took away his family. He destroyed his career. His good name and reputation were stripped from him. His body became distorted and grotesque. His legs were infested with painful oozing, foul-smelling wounds and became crippled. He felt totally alone in the world, abandoned by his friends, alienated from his students. But never from God. God sent him a prophet who told Bo that he was a raging river that had flowed into a desert. And when a river flows into a desert it needs to choose whether to dry up or rise above the desert and be transformed. 

Satan’s attack was relentless and lasted not days, nor weeks, nor months, but years. Finally, Satan appeared to Bo and said, “I have destroyed you. I have taken away from you everything that was important to you, everything you valued in your life. You have nothing. You are nothing. What have you to say about my power now? Have you learned?” 

Bo responded, “Yes, I have learned indeed. I have learned how fleeting things like worldly happiness and riches are, and so I seek instead the riches of the Kingdom of God. I have learned the value of a true friend from having none. I have learned that, though in the eyes of the world I may be nothing, I am a child of God and THAT is what gives my life value and meaning. From my body being crippled and filled with pain, I have learned compassion for others. From being stripped of my reputation, I have learned to depend solely on Him who was stripped of his clothing at the cross on Calvary. From carrying my cross, I have learned that my only strength comes from Him who bore His cross. From my life being destroyed, I have learned greater love and appreciation for Him whose life was destroyed for me. And I have learned to rise above the desert from Him who rose from the tomb. Yes, I have learned, but perhaps not the lesson you intended.” 

Then the voice of God was heard, “Get away from him, Satan, for you have lost your battle. For through your trickery and deceptions you may have taken away what the world views as treasure, you have not been able to take away from him what in my eyes is gold. His faith has not diminished but grown stronger. His hope, though shaken at times, was never lost, and he has never ceased loving Me or loving others, even to the point of having mercy on those who turned their back on him.” And turning to Bo he said, “My Son, your faith has saved you! Be healed!! Behold, I make all things new!!!” 

What I’ve just read to you is a parable. A parable is a short story, drawn from everyday life, to teach a religious truth or a moral principal. The “everyday life” this parable was taken from . . . is mine . . . I, Bruce Olsen, am BO. 

Rise above the desert and be transformed! . . . It’s tough! Why? Because it means, as much as you would want to, you can’t do it alone. You’ve got to LET GO & LET GOD! 

The first time I ever heard that expression was in a book entitled, The Gift of Hope by Cardinal Joseph Bernadine that I brought with me to pass the hours as I sat in the waiting room of Sloan Kettering Hospital where my Mom was to have a tumor removed from her pancreas. Her surgeon had told my father and me that the operation should take five hours and, afterwards, he would come out to the waiting room to let us know how the surgery went. But if we see should see him in less time than that, the news would not be good. 

As I read, I came to the part of the book where Cardinal Bernadine talked about his own battle with pancreatic cancer and that the hardest lesson he had to learn was to “Let go and let God.” When I read that, it touched me and I closed my eyes and repeated over and over to myself, “Let go and let God . . . Let go and let God . . . Let go and let God.” When I opened my eyes, the first sight I saw was the doctor walking towards me, only an hour and a half after the surgery began. 

Let go and let God . . . It’s a lesson I learned again in 2010 when, within the span of three short months, I had lost my father, my job at Bergen Catholic and my health. 

"Let go and let God" were the words I repeated to myself this past August 2nd as I lie in the ER at Hackettstown Medical Center and was told that I had a sepsis infection, that my blood pressure was dangerously low and that when the blood pressure is that low, the organs in the body begin to shut down. “Am I going to die,” I asked? I didn’t get a “yes” or “no” answer. All the doctor would say was, “I’m so glad you came to the hospital today.” . . . Let go and let God! 

What does LETTING GO & LETTING GOD mean? It means following God's lead without knowing where he's sending you; It means waiting for God's timing without knowing when it will come; It means expecting a miracle without knowing how God will accomplish it; It means trusting God's purpose without understanding the circumstances. It means giving up what is beyond your control to embrace what you yourself cannot change. 

Why is it difficult to let go? Because letting go equals surrender. The definition of surrender is “to yield to the power, control, or possession of another.” In other words, you stop fighting a battle you can’t win and turn it over to the One who can. You yield to God’s power and control and stop attempting those things by yourself. But surrender is not defeat. Surrender can bring about victory. If you have any doubts about that, just look at the cross. 

Letting go and letting God involves trust - trusting that God is in the midst of every situation, and all is well;  trusting God to work things out, in his own perfect time, in his own perfect way what we can’t accomplish with our own hands, desires, plans or worries; trusting that “God’s got this.” 

Today is the Feast of Christ the King. Today we acknowledge and acclaim that our King is supreme, eternal, all-powerful, all-knowing, ever-present. Our King - loving, kind, good, beneficent, merciful! 

If we truly believe this, how can we not let go and let Him? How can we not put our struggles, our worries, our pain, our losses, our hurts, OUR FUTURE into his hands. How can we not trust Him – He who made the blind see, the deaf hear, cripples walk and lepers clean . . . He who cast out the demons in people’s lives and raised the dead to life . . . He who not only calmed the storms on the Sea of Galilee, but also those in the lives of all who believed in Him . . . He who took care of the physical needs of the five thousand who came to hear Him by doing the seemingly impossible by multiplying a scant number of loaves and fish . . . He who forgave the woman caught in adultery and even those who crucified Him . . . He who demonstrated his deep, eternal and unconditional love by dying for us . . . He who gives us His sacred Body and Blood to be intimately one with us - to hear us, to look kindly, lovingly, mercifully, generously upon us, and to hold us in the palm of his nail-scarred but mighty hands and transform our lives, turn sadness to joy, worry to confidence, tragedy to success, doubt to assurance, hopelessness to victory. Yes, if we are the people of faith that we hope to be, how can we not, LET GO AND LET GOD! 

And so, once again I hear the voice within telling me to let go and let God. To let go of that which is familiar, comfortable and deeply loved by me, to move on and become a “stranger in a strange land” and transfer to St. Kateri in Sparta. It was a difficult decision. And, as I look out at all of you, it’s more incredibly difficult than I ever could have imagined. It’s hard to leave the place that’s been my spiritual home for 44 years and you – who are more than just parishioners . . . more than just friends . . . but are my family. But all through my life, I’ve tried to do what God has asked me to do, to follow our King wherever He leads me, wherever He wants me to go, even when I don’t clearly understand the “wheres and the whys.” 

So, thank you. Thank you for who you are. Thank you for all you have done for me. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for giving so much to me, loving me, shaping me to be the man, the person of faith, the deacon I am today. Although I leave, you will never be far from me, for you will always be as close to me as my heart. 

Nineteen and a half years ago I first stood in this sanctuary as your deacon. On that day, I asked Robin to sing a song whose words said everything that I hoped I would accomplish in my ministry: 

May I be His love for you 

May I lift your eyes towards heaven 

May I call to you and lead you to His heart 

May I cry His tears for you 

May I be the place that you can run to 

Where you'll hear His voice 

And see Him with your eyes 

All your life 

May I be His love. 

I can only hope and pray that I was. God bless you.

A REFLECTION WHILE WALKING

As I continue rehabbing at home, everyday Raphael and I (I've named my walker) take a stroll up and down the four houses that make up the cluster of homes attached to my townhouse. Sometimes Raphael and I spend the time engaged in conversation; sometimes I pray; sometimes I use the time to reflect. Today was a reflection day. Here's what I came up with: 

1. It's a struggle to go uphill; it's a lot easier going downhill or along level ground. Isn't that true also of life? It's really tough when we face the uphill moments in our life. Like me during my walk, we often wonder if we will ever reach where we want to go or where life is taking us. We sweat out those moments - our hearts race; we get weary. But the thing I've learned during my walks is that every hill is followed by a stretch of level ground or even a downhill slope that is refreshing and allows me to breath easier, relax my muscles and appreciate where I'm at. The uphill struggle was worth it - It made me stronger; it made me more appreciative; it gave me a sense of accomplishment. Same thing with the uphill struggles of life, don't you think? 
2. When I walk, I look down - I don't look up at how far I still have to go. Sometimes I'll even stop and look back. In not looking up, I don't get discouraged at how far I still have to go. In looking down, I appreciate where I'm at. And in looking back, I celebrate how far I've come. I find this is also true about my rehabilitation. I can't look up, because sadly, I still have a long way to go. So many people have asked me the question that I ask myself everyday. When can I return to church - to the ministry . . . to the parishioners I love. The answer is, I don't know yet, and I've learned that to look up the hill that I'm climbing and to see how far I still have to go in my rehabilitation is discouraging. It's not where I want to be . . . It's not where I thought I would be. So, I've learned to look down and back. Looking down, I appreciate where I'm at in my rehabilitation; looking back I'm excited about how far I've come. Even though I'm not where I would hope to be, everyday I'm feeling better, getting stronger, and have more stamina.

Perhaps the walk that Raphael and I took today and the truth I discovered for myself might have meaning for you too. What are your uphill struggles? Discouraged by how far you still have to go before you're at where you want to be . . . who you want to be? Is the walk that you're now walking tiring, perhaps even painful - physically, emotionally, financially, spiritually? Don't look up. Don't look at how far you are from where you want to be - free from your problem, your pain, so far from the goal you've set for yourself, the success you desire. Instead, look down and look back. Appreciate where you're at right now and celebrate how far you've come.

I am so appreciative of all the prayers you've said for me and I humbly ask that you continue to pray for me. Likewise, your comments and messages 0n Facebook and the texts and cards you’ve sent mean so much to me and give me the motivation to continue as I pick up my cross daily and strive to follow in the footsteps of our Lord. God bless you!

The Seventeen Sunday of Ordinary Time

THE PEARL OF GREATEST PRICE

The Seventeen Sunday of Ordinary Time

1 Kings 3: 5, 7-14; Romans 8: 28-30; Matthew 13: 44-52

I was suppose to preach today but I've been under the weather for the past few days. But I wanted to share with you just a thought which would have been the basis for my homily. In the First Reading from the First Book of Kings, God tells King Solomon to ask for anything and it will be granted to him. Solomon asks for an understanding heart. What would you ask for?

In our Gospel from Matthew, Jesus gives us the Parable of the Pearl of Great Price. A man finds this buried treasure, hides it again and sells everything he has to buy the field so that the pearl will be his. What is your pearl of great price? What would you be willing to stake everything you have to possess?

When I was younger, I guess things like fame, success, wealth and health, a loving wife and a happy home with lots of kids would have been pearls that caught my eye, the things I would have cashed it all in to possess. But maybe, like Solomon, with age somehow I got what he got, an understanding heart - a heart which finally understands what really matters in life. 

I came across this song this week. It simply, beautifully and emphatically conveys how I would answer our Lord if today he asked me the question he asked Solomon . . . what to me is the one thing I would stake everything on . . . what to me is the pearl of great price.

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)

STORIES FOR A SUMMER SUNDAY 

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A) 

Wisdom 12:13, 16-19; Romans 8:26-27; Matthew 13:24-43 

Everybody loves a good story, and summertime is a great time for “spinning a yarn” We make them up as we go along on a road trip. We share scary stories around a campfire. We tell humorous and sometimes embarrassing stories during family reunions. Jesus was a master storyteller. Today, we find ourselves in the middle of a three-week cycle where Jesus presents us with stories for a summer Sunday. But his stories weren’t meant to be just cute little stories that entertained his disciples on a hot afternoon. These are parables, meant to teach, to enrich, to confound, and to challenge the disciples . . . and us . . . to grow. 

Today we hear the parable of the wheat and the tares. Tares were a poisonous weed called the "bearded darnel." In the early stages of growth, the tares so closely resembled wheat that it wasn’t possible to distinguish one from the other. By the time they were distinguishable, the roots of the wheat and tares were so entangled that it wasn’t possible to weed out the tares without uprooting the wheat. It was essential to let them both grow together and then separate them at harvest time because darnel is quite bitter and mildly toxic. 

In the parable, a farmer sowed good seed in his field, but in the night an enemy came and sowed tares with the wheat. When the crop began to mature, it became obvious that the noxious weed had been sown with the wheat. The servants offered to pull up the tares, but the wise farmer said: "No, let them both grow together until harvest time. Then we will separate the tares from the wheat." 

The parable raises some important questions concerning the existence of evil - questions I’m sure you’ve asked at some time or another, and if you’re like me, questions you might currently be trying to come to grips with. Questions like: if all God created was good, how did evil enter the world? Why does good and evil exist side by side in the world? Why is it very difficult sometimes to distinguish evil from good? Will there ever be an end of evil? Can evil be prevented?

And the answers that it gives us might not exactly be the ones we wanted to hear: that we live in an imperfect world where evil is present as an unavoidable part of life; that there are evil persons and evil situations which we cannot change; and that there’s an evil force in the world which is beyond our power to fix. But that all of these will be properly handled in the end by God who alone has the wisdom, the power, and the right to judge.

How very often, we are like the servants in today’s gospel. To us there’s no room for the weeds; there’s no room for those whose sexual conduct is embarrassing or whose ethics are questionable; there’s no room for those who treat people unkindly or who have committed shameful sins. Something has to be done immediately! Yank the weeds and cut the losses! 

But the sower of the good seed has a different course of action in mind - "Do nothing," he says. Nothing! Leave both grow together until harvest time. It’s shocking to consider that God lets evil people damage our world and damage our Church. And what’s more, God seems to do nothing to stop the actions of murderers, rapists, robbers, abusers, liars, cheats, embezzlers, adulterers, racists, bigots and criminals of every sort. They often prosper and frequently avoid human punishment.

Whereas the servants in today’s parable, and we, are preoccupied with weeds, the sower is preoccupied with wheat. The sower is not so much interested in condemnation as he is in transformation. Most of us would want to weed out a liar, cheat and a thief, but if did, we would weed out Jacob, the son of Isaac and the father of the 12 tribes of Israel. Most would want to eliminate an adulterer and murderer, but if we did, we would get rid of King David. Most would want to weed out a corrupt young carouser whose drinking and womanizing caused great heartache for his mother. But if such a man were weeded out, we would have eliminated St. Augustine. Unlike God, we cannot know people’s hearts; where their lives might take them, or their potential for good. We are sinners living among sinners and we cannot judge too harshly and condemn too quickly. All the evidence isn’t in and the game is far from over.

There’s a danger in today’s parable and that danger lies in taking an “us” and “them” attitude: to identifies ourselves as the wheat and those guilty of serious sins or horrific crimes as the weeds. But we need to realize that every act of ours, every thought, word and deed of ours - is a seed. Our minds and hearts, our words and deeds are the seed bag from which we sow ourselves in the lives of those around us, in the world around us and in our own lives, too.

If your seed bag is anything like mine, it holds seeds for a good harvest and it holds seeds for weeds. It holds the seeds of my good will, my good intentions and my desire to lives as I know God calls me to live. And my seed bag also holds the seeds of my jealousy, my anger, and my selfishness. Jesus calls each of us to take great care in what we sow, lest we plant weeds that choke and cut short the growth and life of all around us. So we need to ask ourselves, in the week just past, how many seeds have I planted: how many seeds that hurt, how many seeds that heal? And in the week ahead how many seeds will I plant: how many seeds that hurt, how many seeds that heal?

Jesus allowed himself to be the seed that dies that others might have life. He allowed himself to be, sown, planted in the earth that he might raise up in a harvest of God’s grace and peace, for us. And that harvest is what he shares with us at the altar in the Eucharist: the harvest of wheat, become bread, become his Body for us; the harvest of grapes, become wine, become his Blood for us.

May the seeds of grace Jesus plants in our minds and hearts today yield a harvest of grace, a garden of blessings, leading each of us to sow the seeds of life and to reap the harvest the Lord desires.

The Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

WORDS 

The Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time 

Isaiah 55: 10-11; Romans 8: 18-23; Matthew 13: 1-23 

The power that simple words have in our lives! Our whole lives can be radically changed, in an instant, by the words we hear . . . words like: 

“I love you.” 

“The news isn’t good.” 

“I forgive you.” 

"Will you marry me?" 

“You’re safe now.” 

“You got the job.” 

“Mom, Dad, I’m gay” 

“You’re pregnant.” 

"I have good news.” “I have bad news.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

"Are you ok?"' 

"Just go away." 

"Let me help you." 

“She’s gone. He’s gone.” 

“It’s a boy.” “It’s a girl.” “It’s twins.” 

"I want a divorce." 

“You’re beautiful.” 

“It’s cancer.” 

“I will." 

“I won’t.” 

“I did." 

“I didn’t.” 

“Can we talk?” 

“I need you.” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“Not now, not yet.” 

“Good-bye.” 

None of those phrases was more than four words in length but each of them can make a lifetime of difference. Perhaps the only thing more powerful than the words we hear is their absence . . . silence . . . especially that silence in which we wait and hunger and hope for a word to be spoken. 

God knows so well how important and powerful are words in our lives. And so God spoke his Word to us in Jesus, the Word of God become flesh. The parable of the sower and the seed is all about hearing and rooting one’s life in the power of God’s Word, and of allowing the seed of God’s Word to take root and flourish in our lives. Believers listen for God’s Word and seek to live by it. So the question the parable poses for us is: Are we believers? Are you? Am I? 

Do I believe in the word of God?
Do I listen for God’s word?
Do I believe God speaks to me?
Do I believe God speaks to his people through the Church?
Do I believe that people in my life who truly love me and care about me speak God’s word to me?

And when God seems to be silent, do I wait?
Do I wait to hear God’s voice, God’s word?
Do I want to hear the word God speaks to me?
Do I invite the seed of God’s word to take root in my heart?

Am I careful to weed and prune the garden of my life lest the seeds of God’s Word be choked or carried away by my own desires and distractions, by my own word? 

Do I hope for, do I pray for, do I look for a fruitful harvest of God’s Word in my life? 

I began my homily with a number of powerful words that might change our lives, words we speak to each other. Every word God speaks to us is even more powerful and it might be helpful to remember some of the words that God speaks to every single one of us . . . words like: 

“I created you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I call you by name.” 

“You are mine.” 

“I am yours.” 

“I desire your happiness.” 

“I forgive you.” 

"Come to me." 

“Do not be afraid.” 

“Do what is good.” 

"Avoid what is evil."

“Love what is just.” 

“Come follow me." 

"I will give you rest." 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“Not now. Not yet.” 

“I am with you, always.” 

God speaks all of these words in the lives of all of us and God is faithful to every Word that comes from his lips. Remember the Lord’s word in the First Reading this morning: “The word that goes forth from my mouth shall not return to me void - but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it” . . . God’s word is effective: but often on God’s schedule, not ours. 

And God calls us. God calls each of us to be ever so careful and gentle and strong and compelling in the words we speak to one another, mindful of how powerful can be the words that spill from our mouths, from yours and from mine 

The Lord has spoken to us today in the Word of Sacred Scripture and now we go to the altar of sacrifice, to remember there the words he spoke to us on the night before he died. To this very day, some 2,000 years later, the words of Jesus have power to change our simple gifts of bread and wine and make of them his Body and Blood. 

And his words have power, to this very day, to change us, to change our lives and to make of us a rich harvest of the truth of the word he has planted . . . within us and among us.

Video Version

The Fourteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year A)

COME TO ME 

The Fourteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year A) 

Zechariah 9: 9-10; Romans 8: 9. 11-13; Matthew 11: 25-30 

My father was born in 1917, part of what has become known as “The Greatest Generation.” He lived through the Great Depression and fought in World War II. I think those two events played a significant role in shaping my father’s personality. He was a patriot, politically conservative and financially frugal. Similarly, I guess me growing up in the 1960’s and 1970’s has influenced my personality and the optimistic and idealistic lens through which I view life. Where he was a realist, I am very much a dreamer. 

My dad was the wisest person I have ever known. Not only “book smart,” he had a tremendous dose of common-sense mixed in. As is true with most dad’s, he was great at giving advice, whether asked for or not. I remember him telling me, more than once, that there are no guarantees in life, and if something seems too good to be true, then it’s too good to be true. Naturally, as is typical of most fathers and sons, we sometimes didn’t see eye to eye about things. And in looking back, I have to admit, there isn’t one argument that I ever recall winning. His intelligence, common sense and realism gave him a wisdom that I didn’t have then and probably still don’t possess. Father really did Know Best . . . Until today. 

In our gospel this morning, we hear what could be the most loving, reassuring, uplifting thing Jesus ever said that’s been recorded in Sacred Scripture: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” That’s a guarantee you can take to the bank! That’s something that may seem too good to be true, but it is true! 

Are you worn out physically? Maybe you’re carrying in your body a devastating illness or suffering aches and pains or broken bones. Or are you just plain tired? Jesus’ invitation is for you. 

Do you feel burdened or weary in a relationship? Perhaps a friendship has been severed or maybe really rocky and you don’t know if things will ever be the same between you and someone you really trusted and whose company you enjoyed. Jesus’ invitation is for you. 

Are you grieving . . . grieving the death of someone you loved very much? Or maybe feel the loss of someone who moved away, physically or emotionally? Do you grieve the loss of a home or a job or that life just isn’t the same as it used to be? Jesus’ invitation is for you. 

Are you carrying the burden of someone else’s pain - someone you’re caring for, or someone you are praying for? Or do you feel the sadness of the world’s sufferings? Jesus’ invitation is for you. 

Are you stressed out? Burned out? Do you feel like there’s not enough time in the day and that you’re being stretched to the limits, that balancing work and home and family isn’t just tricky, it’s also taxing? Jesus’ invitation is for you. 

Are you feeling a sense of hopelessness that, despite lockdowns, quarantines, social distancing, and hiding our faces behind masks, the coronavirus just doesn’t seem to be going away? The loss of jobs and livelihoods is devastating. Is the inability to meet face to face, to congregate, to embrace, to comfort, and to console in person a deep, aching loss in your life? Has the shutting down of so much and the staying inside so long become a burden that you don’t know how much longer you can carry? Is the political and social unrest in our country adding to the already heavy burden you carry? Jesus’ invitation is for you. 

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” 

To come to Jesus and find to find rest is to find a place of healing and wholeness, and the assurance that God will not abandon us. But, in order to receive rest, inner harmony, contentment - peace within ourselves and peace with the world around us - there’s one catch . . . We need to remember to come . . . to seek Jesus . . . to unburden ourselves in him. And the awesome and amazing thing is that we don’t have to come before him as people who are somehow spotless and perfect. No, we come as we are. Just as we are. Jesus welcomes our vulnerability. 

In Jesus Christ, we are truly at rest, truly at peace. The vacation places we might travel this summer to get away from it all to achieve a sense of peace within ourselves might be hours and miles away. But Jesus, the true source of peace, is always near, not offering us the temporary fix, the momentary relief of our burdens and struggles for a week or two, as vacations do until we return to life as usual, but true, abundant and lasting peace. On vacations we pack suitcase upon suitcase of all the things we think we will need. In coming to Jesus, there’s only one thing we need to bring – trust . . . trust in his love . . . trust that he is who he claims to be . . . trust that he can do what he has promised to do. 

When someone dies, we often pray that they “rest in peace.” What are we really saying when we pray for someone to “rest in peace?” It is our prayer, our wish, our hope, that, for all eternity, they may be relieved of the burdens that beset them in this life simply by being in the presence of God, God who himself is peace. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we sought that peace, not just at the end of life, but in the midst of life? We can, you know. It’s available to us. And the way we achieve it is the same way it’s achieved at the end of life – by putting ourselves into the presence of God – totally, completely, without reserve in the here and now. Peace is an attribute of God, as is love and joy. And when we place ourselves in the presence of God, when we unburden ourselves and rest within his presence, we can’t help but feel that of which is God – his love, his joy, his peace. 

Just as death is a handing over to God that which is beyond our control, to achieve the rest that Jesus offers us similarly involves surrender. Come to Jesus and unburden yourself from trying to going it all alone, doing it all by yourself. You can’t. He can. Take on the easy yoke of his way. In place of the expectations that you place upon yourself and those that society places on you - to be this . . . to achieve that . . . to do what everyone else is doing . . . to measure up to its ever-changing standards – come to him for his burden is light. 

Come to him . . . take upon yourself the yoke of his Word, the example of his life, the teachings of the Church. Come to him in prayer, through the sacraments, in Eucharistic Adoration and he will be found – the God of peace - who offers himself, and offers his peace, to all who enter his presence and allow him to touch them with his loving embrace that heals, forgives and unburdens. 

He offers us hope in his words. He shows us forgiveness in the Sacrament of Reconciliation and proclaims that we are not defined by our past. He unites us with himself and his Church as we share at his table. He affirms and supports us through our fellow Christians. He reveals the attitude and approach we should take to living. He teaches us how to be in a life-giving relationship with God and with others. 

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” 

There are no guarantees in life? If something seems too good to be true then it’s too good to be true? Sorry dad. This is one argument you’re not going to win.

The Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS 

The Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time 

2Kings 4: 8-11, 14-16A; Romans 6: 3-4, 8-11; Matthew 10:37-42 

There is a story of a little girl, who much like other Catholic children her age, grew up in a Catholic home, learning from her parents her prayers and devotions. Remarkably, at a young age, she understood that a Catholic is called to be in a loving relationship with a God and that the goal of life is to become holy, to become a saint. 

In her religion classes, when she would hear the stories of the great saints in the history of the Church and heard of all the great deeds they accomplished, she would feel discouraged as she recognized her own simplicity and smallness in comparison to them. She wondered why God seemed to have preferences and why there were certain people that he would give tremendous graces to do great things and others he wouldn’t. She longed to become a saint, but when she looked within herself, she realized that she was not destined to do great deeds in the world. In fact, her desire, from a very early age, was not to be in the world, but to be apart from it. She longed to dedicate her life to God as a cloistered nun. 

One day a few years later, while praying in the garden of the convent she had joined, still trying to understand why God seemed to gift some with everything they would need to do great things for him and in his name, and others not, she suddenly realized that, in the garden, there were huge, tremendous, brilliant flowers like roses, like sunflowers, like lilies. But then she also noticed that the garden also had daisies, violets, and wildflowers. And that, for the garden to be beautiful, all of these were necessary. She then understood why God has these preferences - why he gives his graces to become saints in different ways to different people – that there are moments he desires the beauty of the rose or the lily in all its grandeur, and there are moments where he desires a simple daisy or violet with their wonderful fragrances. In that moment, she decided she was content to be the little flower in the garden of God’s creation. 

If she was to live her life living in the ordinary, then she would allow the ordinary to be the deeds she would perform to become a saint. And so, the small, ordinary, routine, seemingly insignificant, perhaps boring, perhaps even annoying activities in her life she would do willingly, enthusiastically and lovingly. They would become the deeds she would do for God and in his name. 

This young nun died at the age of twenty-four and it was only twenty-seven years later that she was canonized a saint. It is said that she is the only saint to ever stop traffic on Fifth Avenue in New York. Traffic came to a complete standstill in 1999 as devotees of this saint converged on St. Patrick’s Cathedral to view the relics of she who is often recognized as the greatest and most loved saint of our time. In case you haven’t realized it by now, I’ve been speaking of our patroness, St. Therese. 

I thought of St. Therese this week as I meditated on today’s gospel and as one line jumped out at me. It’s the last line of this very brief passage: “And whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because the little one is a disciple, amen, I say to you, he will truly not lose his reward." 

What a little thing, don’t you think, to give a cup of cold water? Do Jesus words surprise you? They did me. Perhaps it’s a cultural thing. Here in the United States, we’re used to super-sizing everything – the “Big Mac,” the “Big Gulp,” the “Whopper.” Our mentality is “Bigger is better” - big houses, big cars, big salaries, big accomplishments. But if you look through the gospels, it seems that to Jesus, it’s the little things that mean a lot. 

In Scripture we read of the boy who gave Jesus his five loaves and two fish which were which were multiplied to feed five thousand . . . The widow who donated the two small coins to the Temple treasury, yet who, in d0ing something small, has encouraged others to give in sacrificial abundance for two millennia . . . The man who gave Jesus his donkey for his entry into Jerusalem . . . The two disciples who prepared the upper room for the Last Supper. . . Joseph of Arimathea who claimed Jesus’ crucified body and gave him his own burial tomb - the last act of kindness given to Jesus in his earthly life. . . The individual who brought the imprisoned Paul a pen and paper with which he wrote the letter to the Romans . . . Timothy, who brought Paul his cloak to keep him warm and books to keep him spiritually nourished. Little things mean a lot. 

We often imagine discipleship as requiring huge sacrifice or entailing great feats, and sometimes that is exactly what discipleship comes to. But discipleship doesn’t have to be heroic. God loves to bless the little things his people do. Sometimes they are small acts, and sometimes they only appear to be so. Jesus cares deeply about the little things that his people do to bless others. He takes note of them. He uses them to carry on his work in the world through his church. Our cups of cold water, hugs, helping hands, and listening ears, anything done in faith and love, has cosmic significance for the ones involved and, indeed, for the world God loves so much. 

What cups of water have you been offering lately? The phone call, face time, text or email to ask how a family member, neighbor or parishioner was doing during lockdown? . . . The knock on the front door of elderly neighbor to see if they needed anything from ShopRite? . . . The patience you showed as you struggled to be, not only be mom or dad 24/7, but also teacher and playmate? . . . The ear you used to listen to someone who just needed to talk? . . . The shoulder you offered for someone who needed to cry? . . . The words of comfort and reassurance you offered to calm someone’s worries or fears? . . . The rosary you said for someone afflicted with the coronavirus or for someone who had to deal with loneliness these months because they live alone? . . . The note of thanks you wrote to our priests or a priest in another parish who spiritually fed you through their livestreamed masses? . . . The donation you gave to help someone out who hasn’t received a paycheck for three months? . . . Cups of cold water. 

Jesus has promised to come in time to redeem all in love, to fix all damage, heal all hurts, and wipe the tears from every eye, but we can in the meantime devote ourselves to acts of mercy and deeds of compassion small and large, not trying to save the world - Jesus has promised to do that - but simply trying to care for the little corner of the world in which we have been placed. And so even a cup of cold water can make a huge and unexpected difference to those to whom we give it. And, according to Jesus, such acts have eternal and cosmic consequences. Each and every act of mercy rings through the eons and across the universe imbued with Christ’s love for the world, a love we can share anytime and anywhere with gestures that may seem small in the eyes of the world but loom large in the life of those who witness them. 

And if we follow the example of St. Therese, our patroness, then we will begin to see the endless opportunities to serve God in all that we do in the little things. And before long, those opportunities will become, not random acts of kindness, but our way of life . . . the life of a saint.

Video Version

The Solemnity of the Body & Blood of Christ

SECOND FIRST HOLY COMMUNION 

The Solemnity of the Body & Blood of Christ 

Deuteronomy 8: 2-3, 14B-16A; 1 Corinthians 10: 16-17; John 6: 51-58 

Do you believe some things happen by coincidence? I don’t. I believe there are actually very few coincidences in life and that the things we chalk up to “coincidence” are actually the times when God acts but chooses to remain anonymous. Some people call coincidences God instances; others call them God winks. 

So . . . because of the COVID-19 pandemic - in the solitude of our locked down homes or behind masked faces and maintained safe social distances, we’ve been praying. We’ve prayed that the coronavirus be eradicated. We’ve prayed for each other’s health and wellbeing. We’ve prayed for our selfless frontliners. We’ve given thanks for the neighbors, friends and family members who have called, texted, emailed or knocked on our door to check up to make sure we were okay. AND . . . we’ve prayed to be able to return to our beloved church, to worship at mass and, most especially, to receive that which we’ve so hungered and thirsted for – to be fed with the Eucharist, our Lord’s Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity. 

Well here we are . . . on the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Our Lord – Corpus Christi Sunday. And TODAY, our prayer has been answered. TODAY we have the opportunity, the privilege, to once again feast on the great and wondrous gift that our Lord has left us – the Eucharist. TODAY - of all the Sundays of the year - TODAY! Coincidence? I don’t think so. God-instance. God wink. Proof that God has heard the longing of our hearts and has answered our prayers. 

So perhaps TODAY is a good day to recapture the mystery, the wonder, the awe, that we once had for the Eucharist, which perhaps over time, as somethings do, has become something we’ve taken for granted, lost an appreciation for and allowed to become ordinary and routine in our lives. Perhaps TODAY we need to go back . . . go back to the day of our First Holy Communion and allow TODAY to be just as special, just as memorable, just as meaningful, just as spiritual, just as transformational as that day was. Perhaps TODAY we should look upon and celebrate as the day of our SECOND First Holy Communion. 

And to do that, let’s take a few minutes to remind ourselves of what the Eucharist is all about: 

Beginning centuries before Jesus was born, his people, the Jews, celebrated Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, to atone for the sins they had committed in the previous year. On Yom Kippur, the blood of a sacrificed animal was sprinkled on the altar and on the people, sign that God was one with the people he had made his own and he was reconciled with them. The Jews still celebrate Yom Kippur, but without the spilling and the splashing of blood. Instead, they recount the story of the earlier sacrifice, to remember it, and they recite the prayers that accompanied that sacrifice. 

Centuries before Jesus was born, his people, the Hebrews, at God’s command, on the eve of their deliverance from slavery in Egypt, celebrated the first Passover supper, a ritual meal, which God charged them to celebrate every year to remember how the Lord had passed over the homes of the Jews which had been sprinkled with the blood of a sacrificed lamb, thus sparing those Jewish homes from the angel of death. 

Some 2,000 years ago - at Passover in Jerusalem, Jesus gathered his friends for that same supper on the night before he died. That night, Jesus took the bread of Passover, gave thanks, broke it and gave it to his friends saying, “Take and eat of this: This bread is my body, broken for you, given up for you.” And taking the Passover cup filled with wine he gave thanks again and gave it to his friends saying, "Take this, all of you, and drink from it. This is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new covenant, poured out for you, for the forgiveness of sins. When you do this: remember me.” And before a day had passed, Jesus, the Lamb of God, was crucified, broken, and his life poured out for us on the Cross. 

And now, and still, more than 20 centuries later, we gather around our altar, at the table of our Lord’s Last Supper and we do as Jesus instructed us. We remember his sacrifice on the Cross by blessing, breaking and sharing the Bread of his Life, by blessing and sharing the Cup of his Blood at our altar, in the sacrifice of the Eucharist and remembering the deliverance from sin and death that is ours, deliverance from sin and death, in the Passover of Jesus. 

But Jesus didn’t only tell us to remember him in the Eucharist. He promised to be our Eucharist. So when we bless, break and share the bread we offer in thanksgiving, we believe him when he tells us, This bread is my Body. And when we bless and share the cup we offer in thanksgiving, we take him at his word when he tells us, This is the cup of my Blood. 

In this sacrament we are not sprinkled, we drink the blood Christ spilled for us on the Cross. He is atonement for our sins and in his Blood we are washed clean not just once a year but every time we eat this bread and drink this cup and proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes. 

In him and in the sacrifice he offered once on the Cross and again now on our altar, we are delivered, forgiven and saved. In Communion with him we are all made one for we are all sharers in the one Bread broken for us, in the one Cup we share. 

So TODAY let us approach the Lord’s Table with thanksgiving for what he offers us there is more than we can imagine. 

Let us approach the Lord’s Table with humility for none of us deserves what we receive there. 

Let us approach the Lord’s Table with reverence for on our altar is laid the very Body and Blood of Christ. 

Let us approach the Lord’s Table with all our brokenness for we are about to receive the Lord who heals and mends us. 

Let us approach the Lord’s Table with a hunger for life and a thirst for mercy for that is the food the Lord sets before us. 

Let us approach the Lord’s Table at which Jesus invites us to intimacy with him, so real and so personal, he instructs us to consume him, to take his flesh and blood into ours, indeed, to digest his presence. 

Let us approach the Lord’s Table in a spirit of prayer, for here is food for our souls, here is the Bread of Angels and the Cup of Salvation, here is the Risen Lord, Christ Jesus, whose Body and Blood we take and consume with solemnity, with thanks, and with joy. 

Three months . . . It’s been a long time . . . Happy Solemnity of the Body and Blood of our Lord.  Happy Corpus Christi Sunday. Happy SECOND First Holy Communion Day!

Video Version

 

Graduation 2020

THIS IS THE DAY THE LORD HAS MADE 

A Graduation Homily for the Class of 2020 

Proverbs 4: 1-7; 1 Corinthians 12: 4-11; Matthew 5: 14-16 

“This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!” 

Graduates, that’s a line from Psalm 118 and it is very fitting for this day, the day of your graduation . . . a day on which you and we look back and celebrate the years you’ve spent here at St. Therese: your academic success - the knowledge you’ve gained: of the world around you through the study of science; of the grandeur of words to express ideas through literature; of the interrelationship of numbers and concepts and formulas through mathematics; of the successes and follies of humanity through history; of the commonality yet diversity of the human family through the study of cultures in social studies and foreign language; of the strength and capabilities of the human body through your participation in physical education; of the creativity of the human mind to capture beauty through art and music; of the mystery of God and his overwhelming love for us in religion. 

“This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it” as we celebrate YOU! – the outstanding young men and women that you’ve become . . . your talents, your values, your goodness, your kindness, your sensitivity, your personality, your sense of humor. 

And although we mark this day differently than we ever have before because of circumstances that we never could have imagined, it gives us even more to rejoice and be glad over because, despite all that life has thrown your way in the last two and a half months, despite how life has been different, despite the disappointments and sacrifices you have had to make in your Eighth Grade year, you have handled it with grace, you have surpassed its roadblocks, you have met and conquered its obstacles. Yes. “This is the day the Lord has made.” And we have much to celebrate on this day of your graduation. 

But today is more than just a day to look back and celebrate what has been. And it’s more than just a day to savor the present moment. For today is not just the day of your graduation . . . it’s the day of your commencement. It’s a day of beginning. Today you stand on the threshold of your tomorrows. Today, your future is inaugurated. What will that future look like? God, I wish I knew. All the pundits are saying that we’re about to embark upon what they’re calling “the New Normal.” What is the “new normal?” How will what we’ve been experiencing the past two and a half months effect how we learn, how we conduct business, how we interact socially, how we shop, how we recreate, how we worship in the future? 

Is hiding our faces behind masks and keeping safe social distances between each other the new normal? Is all the evil that’s been demonstrated this past week: the lack of respect for human life, racism, the glorification of violence, the destruction of property all part of the new normal? Are the values that are often demonstrated on Tik Tok and other forms of social media the new normal? 

Graduates, are you ready for the future that you commence today? Well, you are if you strive for two things that the readings you just heard talk about. 

First, become WISE. As Paige read to us in our First Reading from the Book of Proverbs: “The beginning of wisdom is: GET WISDOM! Forsake her not and she will preserve you; love her and she will safeguard you.” WISDOM! What is wisdom? Well, if you look online you’ll find this definition: “Wisdom is the quality of having experience, knowledge and good judgement.” And that’s a pretty good definition. But for a Christian, wisdom is so much more . . . so much richer. 

Wisdom is a Gift of the Holy Spirit. You received it the day of your baptism. And it will be strengthened within you the day of your Confirmation. Listen to what Pope Francis has said about wisdom: “Wisdom is the grace of being able to see everything with the eyes of God - to see the world, to see situations, circumstances, problems, everything through God’s eyes. The Holy Spirit makes the Christian “wise,” not in the sense that they have an answer for everything, that they know everything, but in the sense that they “know” about God, they know how God acts, they know when something is of God and when it is not of God.” 

Graduates, ask the Holy Spirit to grant you the gift of wisdom that teaches us to see with God’s eyes, to feel with God’s heart, to speak with God’s words, so that, with this wisdom, you will go forward to build our world, to build our Church, to build the “new normal” according to God’s vision, in God’s love, ever faithful to God’s Sacred Word. 

Second, be LIGHTS. In the Gospel that Deacon Murphy proclaimed, we heard the challenge from Jesus to be lights to the world: “A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.” 

The light you will want to shine will not be your own light; you will be mirrors that reflect God who is that light. This light must be expressed in your words, by your service to those in need, and in the example of how you live your life. YOU must become a GOSPEL. Everything you are, everything you say, everything you do must be Good News that proclaims Jesus Christ, the way, the truth and the life! 

But I can hear what you’re saying: “Nice thought, Deacon Bruce, but how is that “the new normal?” Christianity has been around for almost two thousand years!” And in reality, in the real world, in the lived experience, in the mainstream of life, money, success, power, possessions, and prestige are the driving force in people’s lives, not Christian values. Christian values just don’t work” . . . BUT as British writer, philosopher and theologian GK Chesterton once wrote, it’s not that “The Christian ideal has been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.” 

And so my friends, when you are lights to the world - when you are daring enough to be different; when you are strong enough to break away from the strong undertow of society and refuse to go with the flow; when you are brave enough to stand up for what is good, decent, noble, moral, true and just; when you are faithful enough to the values your parents have instilled in you; when you are wise enough that the lessons you learned at St. Therese’s are more than mere lessons in a book, but lessons for life; when you are committed enough to live what you and I prayed at the end of every prayer and you allow Jesus to live in your heart forever - then, it will be YOU: Paige and Jared and Thomas and Jack and Amelia and Emma and Frank and John and Themelis and Kyle and Grayson, then it will be YOU who will be creating the “new normal.” 

Trappist monk, writer, theologian and mystic, Thomas Merton wrote this prayer. Let it be your prayer, O wise lights to the world: 

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore, I trust you always. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.” 

My dear graduates, this IS the day the Lord has made, and we DO rejoice in it. We rejoice in it because of all you have accomplished. We rejoice in it because of who you are. And we rejoice in it for all you can be and the difference you can make in our world. May God bless you. We are so proud of you.

Pentecost Sunday

ACTION! 
The Solemnity of Pentecost 

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

“No man is an island” wrote British poet John Dunne. And that’s something that I’ve reflected on these past two and a half months living in my solitary confinement of the COVID-19 lockdown - we’re all connected, one life affects another life, one life contributes to who you are. 

And so, for example, my ability to tell a story well, that I get that from my dad. And my faith and my love for the Church and dedication to it, I get from my mom. But my ability to write and put a noun and a verb together, and maybe throw in an adjective for good measure to form a sentence that somehow makes sense, that I credit to the School Sisters of Notre Dame who were my teachers at St. Raphael’s School in East Meadow, NY. I’m eternally grateful to them for drilling in me such things as grammar, usage, vocabulary and spelling. 

I reflected on that education as I meditated on the word church this week as we celebrate Pentecost Sunday, the Birthday of the Church. And I chuckled to myself that I would probably scandalize those good sisters by what I’m about to say: Church is not a noun; Church is a verb, an action verb 

A noun is a word that identifies a person, place or thing. As a noun, the word church can have two meanings. As a common noun (church with a lower-case “c”) it refers to a building, a physical structure . . . the one we were used to going to every Sunday morning . . . the one we miss and so long to return to. But as a proper noun. Church (with a capital “C”) is an institution, an organization, a hierarchical structure. But the Church is so much more than that. As St. Paul reminds us in our Second Reading, the Church is a body, the Body of Christ. It is not passive It is not complacent. It is alive. It moves, it ministers, it teaches, it serves, it feeds, it heals, it reaches out, it touches. And all of those things are ACTIONS! 

Why is Pentecost considered the day on which the Church was born? Because on that day Jesus fulfilled his promise: “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you . . . I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate* to be with you always . . . The Advocate, the holy Spirit that the Father will send in my name—he will teach you everything and remind you of all that told you.” (John 14: 16-18, 26). On that day, those 120 gathered in the Upper Room received everything they needed to be Church: a thunderous noise like a strong wind, like a tornado, came from the sky. And then flames appeared. Flames of fire appeared out of nowhere, spontaneously hovering in the air. And those flames divided up and started floating through the air until they came to rest on each of the people gathered. And the promised Spirit came upon them and both empowered and emboldened them. ACTION! 

But the Church was also born that day because it responded to the Spirit now within them. They rushed out into the street and became Church as they began to fulfill the mission Jesus gave it ten days before at his Ascension when he told the Apostles, “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.” They speak in tongues so the Good News they proclaim can be understood by all. They announce that God has indeed visited His people, and that the one they had crucified was risen. They announce that death no longer reigns supreme, and sin has no power to shackle people in slavery. They go forth to transform every human heart and mind. They go forth to invite everyone, Jew or Gentile, to drink of the one Spirit so that all may be one family in Christ. They go forth and baptize three thousand that day who responded to the power of their proclamation. ACTION! 

What about us? The same Spirit given to the 120 that day of Pentecost in that Upper Room in 33AD was also given to us on the day of our Baptism and strengthened within us the day of our Confirmation. And although those events were not accompanied by driving winds and tongues of fire, we too have become empowered and emboldened by the Spirit of the Living God to be Church – to be people of ACTION in the name of Jesus Christ. But like all gifts, the gift of the Holy Spirit can be received, but just collect dust on the closet shelf where we have stored it away. Or it can be unwrapped, unboxed, admired, appreciated and used. 

Here’s a question for you: Are you a proper noun or are you an action verb? Are you a member of the Church in name only? Or are you a member of the Church because the Spirit within you is a driving force that spurs you to hyperactivity. 

I believe there are seven actions that members of the Church, as Pentecost People, should be engaged in: 

First, we PRAY: A member of the Church is one who is in a constant dialogue with God. It is through dialogue that relationship is established, maintained and strengthened. And so, in prayer, we bring to God our joys, our sorrows, our needs, our hopes, And, in turn, God reveals his will to us, consoles us, guides us and strengths us. 

Second, we LISTEN: A member of the Church is an active listener. We listen the God’s revelation through his Word in Sacred Scripture. We listen to the teachings of the Magisterium of the Church, We listen to the still small voice of our conscience in discerning right from wrong, We listen to others: to the witness of their own faith – to be inspired by them. To their wisdom and advice – to learn from them. To their needs – to respond to them. To their sorrows – to console them. To their joys and successes – to celebrate with them. To their tragedies and failures – to encourage them. 

Third, we LEARN: A member of the Church engages in life-long learning. Not content with the instruction received as a child, the People of Pentecost seek to embrace the mystery of God through new eyes and ears through reading, adult bible study programs and online programs such as those offered on Formed.org. We also learn through an appreciation of those members of the Church who have walked the road of faith before us, the lives of the saints. 

Fourth, we LIVE: A member of the Church realizes that participation in the mystery of faith is not just to be expressed one hour a week in church (small “c”). You are a member of the Church (capital “C”) 24/7/365. It is a lived experience. And you demonstrate that by how you live you live your life, consciously following the example of Jesus Christ. 

Fifth, we LOVE: For a member of the Church, love is not an option or a pious suggestion. It’s a command and a demand - challenging, not always convenient. It costs – more than money – but also time and talent. It makes one vulnerable - It might not be returned or appreciated, perhaps not even recognized. It is directed towards those who are familiar and to those who are strangers, to those who are lovable, but especially to those who aren’t. 

Sixth, we PROCLAIM: We do as Peter did on the first Pentecost, we go out into the streets, into our living rooms, to our workplaces and proclaim Jesus Christ – Lord, Savior, God incarnate, crucified, resurrected. We share good news of glad tidings. We share that which we have found meaningful and transformational in our lives. We share it, as the Apostles did, in a “language” that will be understood by all. We shout it out by words and proclaim it through the example of our lives. 

And seventh, we SERVE: We feed the hungry, quench the thirst of the parched, cloth those who are naked, shelter the homeless, care for the sick, visit the stranger, bury the dead. We admonish the sinner, instruct the ignorant, counsel the doubtful, comfort the afflicted, pray for the living and the dead. 

As we get ready to (hopefully) open our church (small “c”) in a few weeks, let’s pray for a new Pentecost in our Church (capital “C”). Let’s pray that, being so overjoyed with going to church, that we don’t forget to be Church – wind in our sails, fire in our heart, alive with the Spirit, empowered, emboldened, not content with being proper nouns, but energized to be verbs of ACTION. 

Come, Holy Ghost, Creator blest, 

And in our hearts take up thy rest; 

Come with thy grace and heav'nly aid 

To fill the hearts which thou hast made, 

To fill the hearts which thou hast made.

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