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.

Video Version

Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord (Year A)

SQUINT 

Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord (Year A) 

Acts 1: 1-11; Ephesians 1: 17-23; Matthew 28: 16-20 

How’s your eyesight? I have to admit that lately I’m doing a lot more squinting than I used to. I’ve been nearsighted most of my life and wear glasses or contacts to see at a distance. But lately, I’m having more and more of a problem seeing those things that are closeup – the print in a book, the text on my phone, the images on my computer. Even the teacup or the pen that I just laid down on the table or desk in front of me seems to have disappeared when I go to pick them up again. Once I was told that, when that happens, it’s the playful spirits of children who are playing a practical joke on you. I like that! It’s a lot better than having to admit that I’m getting old and I can’t see what’s right in front of me anymore. But invariably, if I squint, I ultimately see what’s been there all along. How’s your eyesight? 

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord, when, Jesus, “as he blessed them, parted from them and was taken up to heaven” (Luke 24:51). It’s interesting, if you think about it, that our Easter season seems to begin and end with similar questions. On Easter Sunday, we heard of two men dressed in white at the tomb of Jesus who ask Mary Magdalene, “Who are you looking for? Why search for the living among the dead?” And in today’s First Reading from the Act of the Apostles, we hear that, after Jesus ascended into heaven, the Apostles stood staring up at the sky. Two men dressed in white appear to them and ask, “What are you looking at? This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.” 

The early Christians spent a lot of time looking up at the heavens for Christ. The earliest Christian writings reveal a general expectation that Christ would return soon, perhaps even before those who knew him firsthand had died. There’s a legend that, in the early Church, someone (probably a deacon) was appointed to go outside during the celebration of the Eucharist to see if Christ had returned. But gradually, the Church learned that it should be concentrating on building up the Kingdom of God here on earth rather than gazing at the heavens. 

But sometimes, we're guilty of doing that too, aren’t we? It occurred to me that maybe a lot of us are like Mary Magdalene and the Apostles . . . often we’re looking for Jesus in the wrong places rather than squinting to see someone that’s right there in front of us. 

We pray and ask God to reveal Himself to us in dramatic fashion. We search the sky for a new Miracle of the Sun, or cloud formations in the shape of angels’ wings, a cross or an image of our Blessed Mother to affirm that we’ve been heard, that God is with us. We look at the ordinary occurrences in our lives and sometimes see the phenomena that surrounds them to have supernatural elements in them. Now don’t get me wrong, I believe in all those things. I do believe that God still reveals His presence to us in the extraordinary, the supernatural, the miraculous. And probably we could all share beautiful stories of occasions when those things have happened in our lives. But notice what I just said. “OCCASIONS.” Because if you’re looking for that as the norm – two things: One, you’ve hoping for something that not even the saints experienced; And two - boy, you’re really missing out how God IS with you every day, in so many ways, as your constant companion, guide, Lord, and Savior. 

Remember what we sang over and over again during the season of Advent, “O Come, O Come, Emanuel?"  Remember the prophesy of the Isaiah, “Behold the virgin shall conceive and bear a son and shall call his name Emmanuel?” Remember how the angel reminded Joseph about that prophesy in his dream when he was told not to be afraid to marry Mary? Jesus is EMMANUEL – GOD WITH US. He still is. Not just at the Incarnation. Not just during biblical times. Not just when He chooses to reveal Himself through dramatic, mighty deeds. God IS with us. And like the disciples in today’s First Reading, maybe we too are being asked, “Why are you looking up at the sky? Don’t look UP . . . look AROUND. This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven may be out of sight, but he’s not gone. He’s here! Now! Always! You just need to squint sometimes to see Him.” 

Squint and you will see Him in nature: In the purity of a winter’s new fallen snow. In refreshing spring rains. In the gentleness of a warm summer breeze. In the splendor of autumn’s colors. In the power of an ocean wave. In the tranquility of a clear blue sky. In the brilliance of sunshine. In the majestic splendor of a mountain range. In the vastness of the stars and planets. In the complexity of atoms and cells that make up the human body. 

Squint and you will see Him in the words of Sacred Scripture. In their wisdom. In the truth they put forth. In their ability to inspire. In the consolation they bring. In the challenge they offer. In the love they reveal. In their eternal relevance. 

Squint and you will see Him in the Church. In the liturgy and sacraments it celebrates. In the Gospel it proclaims. In its continuity back to Jesus, through our bishops – the direct successors to the Apostles. In the two or three, or two or three hundred gathered in His name. In the holiness of the saints. In the blood of the martyrs. In the truth and wisdom of its doctrines and teachings. In its concern for the poor, the sick, the outcast. In its unfaltering respect for human life. In the diversity of gifts of its members. In its openness to all who seek salvation through it. 

Squint and you will see Him in others. In the neighbor who rings your doorbell and says, “Hey, I was just going to ShopRite. Do you need anything?” In the family member, friend or fellow parishioner who calls or texts, “I was just thinking about you. You doin’ okay?” In the affirmation of a spouse. In the affection of a child. In the selflessness of our frontliners and first responders. In anyone who’s there for us with good advice, an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. 

Squint and you will see Him in the Eucharist. In ordinary bread and wine that has become divine. In the bread of life. In the cup of eternal salvation. In spiritual food that nourishes both body and soul. In bread for the journey down the pathways of life, as well as for the walk through the valley of death. 

I once heard a story about a monk who rode on an ox into town and came to a group of people. The people asked him, “What are you looking for, monk” He said, “I’m looking for an ox.” They all laughed. He rode his ox to the next group of people. They too asked him, “What are you looking for, monk?” He said, “I’m looking for an ox.” And they laughed. He rode his ox to a third group of people and they also asked him, “What are you looking for, monk?” And, again, he said, I’m looking for an ox.” They said, “This is ridiculous! You are a man riding on an ox, looking for an ox!” The monk said, “So it is with you looking for God.” 

And so it is with us who look for Christ in the clouds when all the time he is here among us. To see him, sometimes all we need to do is squint.

Video Version

The Sixth Sunday of Easter (Year A)

AS I HAVE LOVED YOU

The Sixth Sunday of Easter (Year A)

Acts 8:5-8, 14-17; 1 Peter 3:15-18; John 14:15-21 

Cole Porter is regarded as one of America’s premier songwriters. The composer of such classic songs as “Night and Day,” I Get a Kick Out of You,” and “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” his music was noted for both its sophistication and its clever rhymes. And along with such songwriters as Irving Berlin, George and Ira Gershwin, Harold Arlen, Johnny Mercer, and Rogers and Hart (probably none of which some of you have ever heard of!), Cole Porters’ songs make up what is referred to as the “Great American Songbook.

One of his hits is the song, “What Is This Thing Called Love?” and its first verse goes like this:

What is this thing called love?

This funny thing called love?

Just who can solve its mystery?

Why should it make a fool of me?

You know, a lot of great minds throughout history have tried to solve that mystery, philosophers, poets and playwrights. And today, it still continues to get a lot of attention. It fills television and movie screens, books, magazines and greeting cards. Love is something we talk about, read about, philosophize about, sing about. 

What is this thing called love?

This funny thing called love?

Just who can solve its mystery?

Well somebody did solve its mystery. Someone who lived two thousand years ago. And He solved it using only five words: AS . . . I . . . HAVE . . . LOVED . . . YOU.”

Oh, what a special night that was, the night of the Last Supper. The Apostles’ heads must have been spinning, for this was no ordinary night . . . this was no ordinary Passover celebration. Jesus, the Master and Teacher reinforced in them, in dramatic fashion, a lesson that he, no doubt, had repeated to them time and time again – that the way to greatness is the way of service. He gave them (and us) the gift of his intimate and abiding presence through the institution of the Eucharist. But not only did He consecrate ordinary bread and wine that night; He consecrated eleven ordinary men to be the first priests in the Church He was establishing. And He did something else that few people seem to take notice of - something that must have brought tears to the eyes of those brawny, sometimes thickheaded, sometimes dense, collection of fishermen, tax collectors and what not. He told them He loved them. It’s said that the gospels contain 31, 426 words spoken by Jesus. But that night was the first time those three words ever came together: I . . . LOVE . . . YOU! “As the Father has loved me, so I LOVE YOU.”

Of course, they knew it. But it’s always nice to hear it, isn’t it, “I LOVE YOU.” And that night, He didn’t just say it. He defined it. He solved the mystery of what true love really is as he further instructed them, “Love one another, AS I HAVE LOVED YOU” Notice Jesus doesn’t go on to say, “And let me tell you guys exactly what I mean.” He didn’t need to. The Apostles didn’t say, “Jesus, could you elaborate a little on that? They didn’t have to. They knew. Because, although the words might only have been said that night, they experienced His love, they felt His love, from the very first day they laid eyes on Him and heard Him say, “Come follow me.” 

But whereas the Apostles needed no further explanation of what it is to love as He loved, maybe we do. In today’s Gospel, Jesus is inviting us all to be great lovers. How do we do that? If we are to love as Jesus loved, what exactly are the characteristics of His love? What is it that made Jesus Christ the greatest lover the world has ever known? If He indeed is the model of what true love is all about, then I think it’s beneficial for us to reflect on what exactly it means to love as Jesus loved. In my own meditation, this is what I came up with: 

1. Jesus love was a pervasive love: It was always evident; it was always constant. Ever wonder why the crowds were attracted to Jesus? How he amassed such a following and such notoriety in only three years? Why, when he walked into a town, even the little children ran up to him and clung to him? Jesus possessed an aura of love. Love oozed out of His pores, radiated from His eyes, beamed from His smile, trajected through His touch. It simply felt good to be around Jesus. When you were in the presence of Jesus you knew you were in the presence of love. It was who He was, and He was always true to Himself.
2. Jesus love was an unconditional and an all-embracing love: You didn’t have to qualify to be loved by Jesus – you simply were. Jew or gentile, man or woman, Hebrew or Samaritan, wealthy or poor, healthy or ill, supporter or persecutor, saint or sinner. You didn’t have to win His love and you couldn’t lose His love. 
3. Jesus love was an active and selfless love: It was a love that was more expressed in deeds than in words. The blind received their sight, the lame walked, the lepers were made clean, the deaf heard, the dead were restored to life, the poor had the good news proclaimed to them. What, other than love, could inspire one to say, “Come to me all who are weary and heavy burdened and I will give you rest”? Without fanfare, without looking for anything in return, no strings attached, what could possibly have been His motivation if not simply love? 
4. Jesus love was a merciful love: He once said, “What credit is it to you if you love only those who love you?” And he demonstrated that His love was so much more than mere reciprocity. He forgave his persecutors. He forgave the Apostles for abandoning Him. He forgave Peter for denying that he even knew Him. He preached forgiveness – He lived forgiveness. Why? Simply because He loved them. He forgives your sins. He forgives mine. Why? Simply because He loves us. 
5. Jesus love was a challenging but patient love: Repent! Believe! Turn the other cheek! Go and sin no more! Love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! Forgive seventy times seven times! Turn the other cheek! Serve! Feed the hungry! Nourish the thirsty! Clothe the naked! Welcome the stranger! Minister to the sick! Visit the prisoner! He challenged the people to go beyond the status quo, beyond who they were and where they were at. He saw the best in them, all their potential. And gently, patiently, he encouraged them to grow, to become who His Father created them to be . . . in their own time, in their own way, by His grace. 
6. Jesus love was a sacrificial love: His was a costly love. It cost Him his worldly possessions, his time, his energy, his creativity. It cost Him his reputation, his family, his friends. It cost him his body, his blood, his life. He said that "no greater love has any man than to lay down his life for those he loves." And that’s exactly what He did, the kind of love He had.

So how does the way that you love match up with the way Jesus loved? Seem impossible? Beyond your reach? Easy for God – not so easy for us mere human beings? Well here’s the thing . . . what Jesus said was not just a suggestion, was not just something to reflect on, was not just a hope, something that he desired from the Apostles and the saints. It’s a command! It’s an expectation! “Love one another AS I HAVE LOVED YOU!”

But here’s the good news – we’re not meant to accomplish it all by ourselves. What does Jesus go on to say? “I will not leave you orphans . . . I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate to be with you ALWAYS.” The fulfillment of that promise we will celebrate in two weeks, on Pentecost Sunday. 

In the next two weeks, lets pray that the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, will come upon us, that there will be a new Pentecost in our Church and within ourselves, and that we will be “all fired up” with his gifts of wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, fortitude, piety and fear of the Lord so we will dare to love in the way we have been loved . . . in the way in which we have been commanded to love. 

What is this thing called love?

This funny thing called love?

Just who can solve its mystery?

Love one another in the way you received it from me.

The Fifth Sunday of Easter (Year A)

LORD, WE DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE GOING; SHOW US THE WAY 

The Fifth Sunday of Easter (Year A)
Acts 6: 1-7; 1Peter 2: 4-9; John 14: 1-12 

I had a restless night sleep last night; I don’t know why. I felt okay. My mind wasn’t necessarily on overdrive, pondering the mysteries of the universe. Nor was it preoccupied with problems or worries. I simply thought of this, that, and the other thing. Somewhere in the midst of my journey through the random thoughts, and people and memories that kept me awake, I recalled one particular July of my young childhood.

I was raised in a very middle-class family. My mom was a stay-at-home mom (as most were back then) and my dad worked hard to pay the bills, put food on our table and clothes on our back. There wasn’t much money left over for the luxuries that some families enjoyed and that perhaps many of us think fall into the category of “necessities” today. As a result, we didn’t go away on too many summer vacations. But we never felt deprived. During the weeks that my Dad had off from work, we had picnics at Belmont Lake or Salisbury Park (now renamed Eisenhower Park), or went to the beach. (Being from New York, it was NEVER referred to as “the shore,” as it is here in New Joicy.) 

But one particular year, it rained every day of the two weeks my Dad had off. Frustrated, and trying to salvage at least a few days, the suitcases were rapidly packed and loaded into the car. We were going away! Away to someplace, anyplace. Away to someplace that didn’t have clouds and rain . . . Away to anyplace the summer sun shone. Nowadays, vacation getaways are planned, reservations made, and eagerly anticipated for months well in advanced. Not that summer during the 1960’s for the Olsen Family! We literally had absolutely no idea where we were going as our green Chrysler Newport backed out of our driveway. As we drove down Newbridge Avenue (now called East Meadow Avenue), my Dad pulled into Sam’s Gulf Station. While the car was filling with gas, my Dad went into the gas station office and emerged with a road map, the only one Sam had. The decision had been made for us. We were going to Pennsylvania! Where in Pennsylvania? That’s a story for another homily. 

As I tossed and turned in bed last night, suddenly I saw a connection with Thomas’ words in today’s Gospel, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going; Show us the way.” On his last night with his friends, Jesus told his closest friends, “Not to worry! I’m leaving to get things ready for you. Then I’ll come back to take you with me. And you know the way!” But Thomas, the doubter, the realist, the practical guy says, “Jesus, we have no idea where you’re going! How could we possibly know how to get there?” 

Have you ever been in that place where you feel lost and don’t know the way out, let alone the way home? Has there been a time in your life when you just couldn’t figure out what you should do? what God might want you to do? what would be the right thing, the best thing for you to do? Thomas was feeling just that kind of frustration when he heard Jesus say, “You know the way.” It’s the frustration of thinking that maybe you should know the way, certainly that you want and need to know the way – but you don’t! 

And Jesus’ answer is not altogether or immediately satisfying. At least – it’s not a quick solution. What Thomas really wants is a GPS, with the destination and shortest route, avoiding toll roads, already calibrated, a AAA map with a big red X indicating the destination and a yellow highlighted route leading him to it. 

But what Jesus is saying is, “Thomas, I AM the map! I’m the WAY. And I’m the TRUTH. And I’m the LIFE. Stay as close to me as you can and you’ll be heading in the right direction. Make every effort to find the path that leads to the TRUTH and do everything you can to avoid the shortcuts and dead ends of what is false. And always choose the paths that bring you LIFE. Don’t head in directions that burden you and drag you down, eating away at your heart and your hopes. Choose what brings you LIFE and you’ll end up where you’re supposed to be even, if right now you don’t know where that is, or how to get there; even if right now you can’t see where I’m leading you; even if right now you can’t see me at all . . . " 

But we still can get lost – and we still do get lost. 

• We start to get lost as soon as we begin to think that we can find our own way without God’s help. 
• We lose our way as soon as we begin to believe we can discover the truth apart from God’s Word. 
• We get disoriented when, at life’s crossroads, we’re sure we will choose the right path without stopping to ask God for directions. 

But when we stay by the Lord, close to his side and let his Word map our route, and when we walk in the company of other believers, all of them seeking to follow the Lord’s way, too - then we can be sure we’re on the road Jesus asks us to travel. 

On the highways of our lives, our gathering in church on the Lord’s Day is like pulling over on the interstate, into a service area. There we find the exit we take to get our bearings. There we find rest from the hustle and hassles of our journey. There we are refueled at the altar where we’re nourished with the Eucharist to give us the strength we need to resume, to continue on our journey with the Lord as our guide. Oh how we long to return . . . oh how we need to return to our parish church! 

We need to return to our church because it is all too easy during the week to lose sight of the Lord along the way, but every Sunday we can find him at Mass: in one another, in the Word of the scriptures and in the Eucharist. It is there that He waits for us, ready to reset our GPS to the path that leads to peace. He promises to be the way for us when we’re lost, to show us the truth of things when we’re confused, and to be our life, even when we travel in the shadow of death. We so need to, once again, take the exit, pull over, come to the table and be refreshed by the One who is our way, our truth and our life. 

This is a slightly adapted version of a beautiful prayer written by the great spiritual writer and Trappist monk, Thomas Merton. Perhaps, as we feel lost in the midst of our pandemic lockdown and can't see the road ahead, we all need to be reminded that JESUS is the WAY, the TRUTH, and the LIFE and this can be our prayer:

O God, I have no idea where I’m going.

I don’t see the road ahead of me.

I don’t know for certain where it will end.

I don’t really always know my own self,

and the fact that I think I’m doing what you ask of me

doesn’t necessarily mean that I am.

But I believe that even the desire to do what’s right

does in fact please you.

And I hope I have that desire in everything I do:

the desire to do what you ask of me.

I hope I’ll never do anything apart from that desire.

And I know that if I live my life that way

you’ll lead me by the right path,

even though I may not know I’m on it.

So, I will trust you always

especially when I'm lost, even in the shadow of death.

Even then, I will not be afraid,

because you will be with me,

and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Thirty Days Prayer to St. Joseph

THIRTY DAYS PRAYER 
TO ST. JOSEPH 
IN HONOR OF THE 30 YEARS 
HE SPENT WITH JESUS AND MARY

Ever blessed and glorious Joseph, kind and loving father, and helpful friend of all in sorrow! You are the good father and protector of orphans, the defender of the defenseless, the patron of those in need and sorrow.

Look kindly on my request. My sins have drawn down on me the just displeasure of my God, and so I am surrounded with unhappiness. To you, loving guardian of the Family of Nazareth, do I go for help and protection. Listen, then, I beg you, with fatherly concern, to my earnest prayers, and obtain for me the favors I ask.

I ask it by the infinite mercy of the eternal Son of God, which moved Him to take our nature and to be born into this world of sorrow.

I ask it by the weariness and suffering you endured when you found no shelter at the inn of Bethlehem for the Holy Virgin, nor a house where the Son of God could be born. Then, being everywhere refused, you had to allow the Queen of Heaven to give birth to the world’s Redeemer in a cave.

I ask it by the loveliness and power of that sacred Name, Jesus, which you conferred on the adorable Infant.

I ask it by the painful torture you felt at the prophecy of holy Simeon, which declared the Child Jesus and His holy Mother future victims of our sins and of their great love for us.

I ask it through your sorrow and pain of soul when the angel declared to you that the life of the Child Jesus was sought by His enemies. From their evil plan, you had to flee with Him and His Blessed Mother to Egypt.

I ask it by all the suffering, weariness, and labors of that long and dangerous journey.

I ask it by all your care to protect the Sacred Child and His Immaculate Mother during your second journey, when you were ordered to return to your own country.

I ask it by your peaceful life in Nazareth where you met with so many joys and sorrows. I ask it by your great distress when the adorable Child was lost to you and His mother for three days.

I ask it by your joy at finding Him in the temple, and by the comfort you found at Nazareth, while living in the company of the Child Jesus.

I ask it by the wonderful submission He showed in His obedience to you.

I ask it by the perfect love and conformity you showed in accepting the Divine order to depart from this life, and from the company of Jesus and Mary.

I ask it by the joy which filled your soul, when the Redeemer of the world, triumphant over death and hell, entered into the possession of His kingdom and led you into it with special honors.

I ask it through Mary’s glorious Assumption, and through that endless happiness you have with her in the presence of God. O good father! I beg you, by all your sufferings, sorrows, and joys, to hear me and obtain for me what I ask.

(Here name your petitions or think of them.)

Obtain for all those who have asked my prayers everything that is useful to them in the plan of God. Finally, my dear patron and father, be with me and all who are dear to me in our last moments, that we may eternally sing the praises of: JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH.

“A blameless life, St. Joseph, may we lead, by your kind patronage from danger freed.”

The Fourth Sunday of Easter (Year A)

THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD 

The Fourth Sunday of Easter (Year A) 

Acts 2” 14A; 36-41; 1Peter 2: 20B-25; John 10: 1-10 

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. 

Only goodness and kindness follow me 

all the days of my life; 

and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD 

for years to come. 

The LORD is my shepherd . . . And He is a Good Shepherd. 

He gathers us in; He guides our way; He protects us. He came so that we might have life and have it more abundantly. He came to make human life better by revealing life's meaning and purpose; by offering us a personal relationship with God; by connecting us to each other – brother and sister, neighbor and stranger - to all who are part of the flock he tends; by allowing us to move beyond our past failings and to start again; by touching our heart and our soul in the liturgy; by being our constant companion in life's journey; and by offering us hope beyond the grave. 

He is the Good Shepherd and when we stray, He searches for us. And when He finds us, He gently picks us up and tenderly carries us on his shoulders back to safety. He is the Good Shepherd and we know His voice. There’s no mistaking it. It is the voice of goodness and love, of compassion and service, of mercy. 

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. 

Even though I walk in the dark valley 

I fear no evil; for He is at my side. 

With His rod and His staff 

that give me courage. 

The LORD is my Shepherd . . . and my Sheepgate. 

Most of us think that when Jesus identifies Himself as the “sheepgate” he’s saying that it’s only through Him that we pass through from this earthly existence to eternal life. That His life, His teaching, His example, His death and resurrection have become the gateway, the doorway, the portal to salvation that has now become open to us. And yes, Jesus did mean that. But he meant so much more. 

A sheepfold in Jesus’ time was a large enclosure sometimes made of a roughly circular stone wall, sometimes of thorn bushes, planted to hedge in a pen where the sheep stayed at night. But rather than a gate, there would be a simple opening in the wall or hedge through which the sheep would be herded to safety. And once the sheep were in the sheepfold for the night, the shepherd would lie down on the ground, stretching across the opening. This shepherd literally makes himself into a barrier gate, a role that requires, not only care, but courage. If any marauders or predators are to get to the sheep, they will only do so over the dead body of the shepherd. 

Jesus is the Good Shepherd - He lives for his flock . . . He dies for his flock. Can we be lost or destroyed? Only over the Lord’s dead body. Through the laying down of his life on the cross and his rising before us, we are led into the sheepfold of eternal life. 

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. 

In verdant pastures he gives me repose; 

beside restful waters he leads me; 

he refreshes my soul. 

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want . . . but . . . I do . . . I want . . . And probably you do too. 

Perhaps what you want is a thing: something physical, something you want to have, to own; or perhaps it’s a person, a relationship you want to have or one you want to deepen, or mend, or end; or perhaps it’s something you want for someone else: healing of an illness, peace in a troubled family, a job for someone unemployed; or perhaps it’s something emotional: maybe you’re praying for some peace of mind, some serenity, some contentment. 

But if the Lord is my shepherd – then I should want for nothing. If the Lord is my shepherd - then I have all I truly need. If you’re like me, you might find that hard to grasp, not easy to accept. Even as I say the words “I shall not want” I think of all the things for which I do want, things I want for myself, things I want for others – good things – not selfish, frivolous things, but important things. And our experience tells us that the Lord, as Good a Shepherd as he is, does not supply us with everything we want. But he does supply us with everything we truly need. Listen to all that our Good Shepherd promises to give us in today’s gospel: 

• Jesus, the Good Shepherd, pledges his voice, his word, for our hearing. And we hear the Shepherd’s voice in the scriptures, in prayer, in our hearts and in our minds, in our conscience. His voice is always there to be heard, to be followed - though whether we hear and follow where his voice leads - is up to us. 
• And the Good Shepherd promises to know us. And no one knows me better, no one knows you better, than Jesus, the Shepherd of us all. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows us inside out – and still loves us. He knows everything we do, everything we think of doing and everything we’ve failed to do – and still forgives us. He knows the secrets of our heart and all its desires but still gives us, time after time, opportunities to improve on our mistakes, to try again, to begin again, to win again his favor and his love. 
• And Jesus, the Good Shepherd, promises us eternal life. And in light of that promise, anything else we think we need to be happy pales in comparison. The problem comes whenever I begin to think that what I believe I need to be happy is greater, more important or more compelling, than the promise of the gift of life forever. 
• And finally, Jesus, the Good Shepherd, promises us that no one and nothing can snatch us from his hand. Not even death can snatch us from the Shepherd’s hand: we are always and ever held in the palm of the Lord’s saving hand. 

Now, all of that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t pray for all the good and gracious things that we want or need. It only means that the happiness, the serenity, the contentment that any of those things might bring us is little, indeed, in light of all that Jesus, the Good Shepherd promises to us, the sheep of his flock. 

The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want. 

Jesus, my Good Shepherd, 

I trust in you alone 

for your endless mercy follows me, 

your goodness will lead me home.


Video Version on this Homily