FIRST SUNDAY OF LENT (February 26, 2026)

FIRST SUNDAY OF LENT (February 26, 2026)

Today, I’d like us to use our imaginations. Imagine that you just met your brand new next-door neighbors. They seem like very nice people. After some time passes, they invite you to attend their church. You have never heard of their religion; it is something new: they worship on a different day. You feel honored at their invitation - and you are a bit curious - so you decide to go with them.

The people in the gathering space are as friendly as your neighbors. Then you enter the worship space. You are shocked. The center of focus is an electric chair. You feel like bolting for the door. What kind of bizarre cult is this?

Yet, you hesitate - suspended between disgust and curiosity. The people do not seem weird at all - actually, very nice - even loving. A helpful “parishioner” hands you a piece of paper, an explanation of the group’s belief. You read that the center of belief and worship is a man who was strapped to the chair and killed through the machinations of a political and a social system that saw this man as a threat to their lives of privilege and power.

After his death, his followers discovered that when they gathered together, this man was present in spirit, pouring out his wisdom and his love into their lives. It dawns on you that this monstrous device of death has been transformed into something very different from its common meaning - it is a point of veneration and inspiration.

Instead of “success” in the world - the lifestyle of the rich and famous, Lamborghinis and Ferraris, villas and buff bodies - the electric chair is the symbol of life’s meaning.

In imagining yourself walking into a worship space and seeing the electric chair as the focal point, you are replicating the experience of a first century Jew or Gentile entering a Christian place of worship - where the cross - a hated, disgraceful and terrifying symbol of death stands as the focal point.

I think we have gotten so used to the symbol of the cross that it loses its meaning. Today, it gets decorated with jewels; it hangs around rock musicians’ and wannabees’ necks, another artifact like an earing or a nose ring. We walk into church - and hardly notice it.

We have lost the ability to understand its shock value, what it cost Jesus to die on the cross - a n d - the demands which the cross makes on those who . Say they are followers of Jesus.

On Ash Wednesday, the Christian faithful around the world lift their faces to be signed with ashes. This sign is meant to remind us both of our mortality and of a radically new way of living. When we make the sign of the cross, we remind ourselves and proclaim that we are willing to die to self and are willing to be countercultural.

During lent, we watch what goes into our mouths. We fast. We abstain from meat on Fridays. We easily forget what Jesus said: what comes out of our mouths is more important than what goes into our mouths.

This year I would like us to consider fasting from what comes out of our mouths in three ways:

First, fasting from unbecoming language. The air around us is full of it. F-bombs are commonplace. Foul language comes out not only from the mouths of Howard Stern and Jerry Springer, but presidents and CEO’s and a lot of otherwise “nice” people.

I like the story of the college kid brought home by his roommate for a home cooked dinner ... Spilled water - string of words - silence - grandma: “You eat with that mouth?” Whether young or old or in between, we may need to clean our teeth, so to speak; we are one of the gang: Jesus’ gang.’’ Let’s not sound like another gang.

Second, fasting from judgments that spill easily out of our mouths. We would do well to make zero judgments about the motives of others, their goodness or badness, their shortfalls, their jobs. This may be hard to do every day, so we might make this special effort on Fridays, when Jesus remained silent before Pilate and died for us.

Finally, fasting from negatives that so readily come from our mouths. Put-downs, clever remarks that hurt, sarcasm, negative criticism. If it’s too much of a challenge, perhaps we could work on that on Wednesdays, the day Judas is said to have betrayed Jesus with the negative words that came from his mouth.

Cleaning up our mouths makes room for positive words, for encouraging words we all need to hear, and for the prayer-word we need to speak to our lord. This is not easy because we so often do not really listen to ourselves.

Like grandma in our story, we can ask ourselves: “I eat with this mouth?” More to the point - “we eat and drink the body and blood of Jesus with this mouth?”

Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time (February 19, 2023)

Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time (February 19, 2023)

In today’s Gospel, Jesus picks up where he left off last Sunday by adding yet more verses to his version of the song “Higher Love.” Jesus proclaims that it isn’t enough to practice retribution that is balanced; you should not practice retribution at all. It isn’t enough to love your neighbor while hating your enemy; you must also love your enemies; you must pray for those who persecute you. When asked to travel a certain distance, you must go the extra mile. When asked for help, do what you can without expecting any return for your generosity. If someone strikes you on one side of your face, offer them the other side.

However, it would be a mistake to hear in Jesus’ words the invitation to be a wimp, a wall flower or a door mat: there comes a time in a person’s life (just as there were many times in Jesus’ life) when – despite all attempts to roll with the punches – you must simply – and strongly – stand up for what it right. The challenge is rooted in knowing how to take a stand against another without allowing hatred to grow in our hearts toward others. As the Book of Leviticus reminds us: “Though you may have to reprove your fellow citizen, do not incur sin because of him. Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against any of your people.”

In his Introduction to the Devout Life, Francis de Sales observed: “Nothing so quickly calms down an angry elephant as the sight of a little lamb (writer’s note: you go first!); nothing so easily breaks the force of a cannon ball as wool. We do not set much value on correction that comes from anger – even when accompanied by reason – as to that which comes from reason alone. When princes visit their people with a peaceable retinue, they honor them and cause them great joy, but when they come at the head of armies – even though for the common good – their visits are always disagreeable and harmful. In like manner, as long as reason rules and peaceably chastises, corrects and warns – even though severely and exactly – everyone loves and approves it.” (Part III, Ch. 8)

If we must stand up for ourselves, we must avoid knocking others down. If we must correct, chastise or reprove others it must be done without suborning resentment. If we must work for peace, it most be pursued without employing unjust means. As we know from our own experience, however, this is much easier said than done: when justice actually requires that we prevent someone from striking us (or others) on the other cheek we might unintentionally strike them first! Francis de Sales offers the following advice when we do the right thing in the wrong way: “As soon as you see that you are guilty of a wrathful deed, correct the fault right away by an act of meekness toward the person with whom you grew angry. Just as it is a sovereign remedy against lying to contradict the untruth upon the spot as soon as we see we have told one, so, too, we must repair our anger instantly by a contrary act of meekness. As the saying goers, fresh wounds are quickest healed.” (Ibid)

As we see so clearly in the life of Jesus, living a “higher love” often has less to do with what we do – or don’t do – to others; it has much more to do with how we do – or don’t do – with others.

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time (February 12, 2023)

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time (February 12, 2023)

*Think about it, there must be higher love Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above Without it life is wasted time Look inside your heart, I’ll look inside mine. Things look so bad everywhere In this whole world what is fair? We walk blind and we try to see Falling behind in what could be.

Bring me a higher love, bring me a higher love Bring me a higher love, where’s that higher love I keep thinking of?*

• sung by Steve Winwood

In today’s Gospel Jesus calls us to a “higher” love. Jesus urges us to avoid practicing or pursuing spiritual minimalism, i.e., looking to do only the bare minimum of what is required: living life by the “good enough” method. Jesus clearly raises the bar when he tells his listeners that it isn’t enough to avoid killing your neighbor; you must avoid growing angry with – or holding a grudge against – your neighbor. Indeed, you must be reconciled with your neighbor. It isn’t enough to avoid committing adultery; we must also avoid looking others in ways that objectify or discount them for our own gratification or advantage. Indeed, rather than waste your time by looking at others your time would be better spent by examining yourself. It isn’t enough to avoid making a false oath; you should avoid putting yourself in any situation in which you would feel obliged to swear to anything. Simply say what you mean and mean what you say.

Jesus’ “higher love” is really at the heart of Francis’ notion of “devotion.” He wrote: “Genuine, living devotion presupposes love of God, and hence it is simply true love of God. Yet it is not always love as such. Inasmuch as divine love adorns the soul, it is called grace, which makes us pleasing to God’s Divine Majesty. Inasmuch as it strengthens us to do good, it is called charity. When it has reached a degree of perfection at which it not only makes us do good but also do the good carefully, frequently and promptly, it is called devotion…In addition, it arouses us to do quickly and lovingly as many good works as possible, both those commanded and those merely counseled or inspired.” (IDL, Part 1, Ch. 1)

For his part, St. Francis de Sales also challenges us to avoid spiritual minimalism. It isn’t good enough to avoid lying; we must be truthful. It isn’t good enough to avoid gluttony; we must be disciplined. It isn’t good enough to avoid being parsimonious; we must be generous. It isn’t good enough to avoid injuring others; we must heal others.

God, help us to live this higher love. Help us to avoid trying to simply ‘get by’ in life; help us to understand what it means to truly live…by fully loving.

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time (February 5, 2023)

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time (February 5, 2023)

Jesus proclaims to all who wish to follow him that they are to be light to the world, and salt of the earth. These are powerful images, as powerful today as they were when Christ first proclaimed them. For disciples of every time and place, these images are not mere ego boosters. No, they are a constant challenge to dare to become for God and others that which Jesus was, himself, so clearly willing to be.

To be a light to the world is to illumine others with God’s truth and mercy. Likewise, that same light must expose the sins of pride, envy, meanness, indifference, injustice and anything else that blinds us from the divine truth and mercy that Christ has gained for us. Insofar as sin is anything that makes it more difficult to see in ourselves and one another the light and love of Jesus Christ, exposing such sin not only frees us from darkness but also better enables us to do all that is good and life-giving.

In Jesus’ light, we see the source of all light. We see the Father’s creative love; we receive Jesus’ redeeming love; we experience the Spirit’s inspiring love. Still, it is not enough to let this light shine out upon others: we must also allow that light to penetrate and permeate every fiber of our very being. The greatest encouragement that our God-given light can give to others is to show to others how that light is, in fact and at first, transforming us.

To be salt is to accept that fact that our efforts – or lack thereof – to follow Christ do have an impact upon others, regardless of whether we are always aware of that impact or not. There are times in our lives when we lose our taste for God and/or the things of God: more frequently than not this is displayed by our own feelings of inadequacy and/or indifference when it comes to practicing virtue. We all have our moments when we are tempted to believe that our day- to-day efforts at following Christ simply don’t make a positive difference in the lives of others, let alone in God’s overall plan for salvation. Unlike salt, however, we can regain that taste for doing what is righteous and good through prayer, the sacraments and, perhaps most practically, by doubling – even tripling – our efforts at practicing those very virtues that we are tempted to cease pursuing.

When we are tempted to wonder about our own efficacy in witnessing to the power and promise of God’s creative, redeeming, inspiring, healing and challenging love in our everyday, imperfect lives we should take consolation and encouragement about something which is true about both light and salt: even the smallest amounts of each go a very, very long way.

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time (January 29, 2023)

The motive of reward for hard work and honest effort is part of American DNA. Some transfer the idea of reward and expand it to believe that rewards are the only reason for hard work and honest effort. The reward motive becomes the norm and becomes the law of the land. Unfortunately, children of many families learn this well and early on.

Unfortunately, also, reward appears likely to be the greatest motive to attract many folks to religion. The appeal of “pie in the sky when you die” and avoiding hell has drawn many – especially older members. Following Jesus for what we can get out of it is not the motive that Jesus wants.

Reminiscent of John f. Kennedy’s famous inauguration statement, we say ask not what Jesus can do for you; ask rather that his personhood and message of the centrality of love draw you to union with him. The beatitudes form a preamble to Jesus’ “law of love.” Matthew later presents Jesus revealing the two great commandments of love to his followers. Here, he invites us to become part of his mission of love for the world. Reward comes as a by-product for our commitment to love god above anyone or anything else. Personal, self-aggrandizement is an unworthy response to his call.

The beatitudes have been misunderstood as referring to various categories of people. Today, the blest are seen as a composite of the attitude that the followers of Jesus need. Jesus was painting a portrait of one who is be-coming a Christian.

Jesus is not declaring that some are blessed because they live in a state of some deprivation; they are blest in spite of their deprivation. Jesus uses beatitudes to instill hope in lives where there is not much hope. He wants a change of mind/heart that inspires them to work to help bring about the kingdom of god. More to come, not more of the same! He wants our hope and faith to inspire us to help bring about the kingdom of god by reversing life-situations like war, hunger, thirst, et cetera – and with joy.

The beatitudes challenge us to understand that things can be different and that we can make a difference. We are declared blest because we have hope rooted in faith and communion with our god. Beatitudes provide a profile for living Jesus, living in communon with him and our neighbor.

Jesus invites us into his divine way of looking at our world with a blessed-ness that is surely a strange wonder to the world, yet lures. It is the combination of wonder and allurement that draws so many to Jesus and to Mary who offers a great example in her eloquent Magnificat: “My soul magnifies the Lord…”

The blessed represent those who weigh things and act for God. Living in this way means keeping an eye out for god’s will in the situations of life. Jesus gives meaning to our lives. Beatitudes challenge us to reflect on our response to adversities and remind us to develop a knee-jerk response of faith when opportunity presents itself.

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time (January 22, 2023)

In the first reading - the one also used at midnight on Christmas - Isaiah the prophet uses the image of darkness and sings a thanksgiving hymn for the lightsome deliverance of the Jews from Assyrian darkness.

In the Gospel, we hear of Herod imprisoning John the Baptizer. The voice of one crying in the wilderness is now an empty echo in a dungeon. Authority did what authority does both in state and in church: silences what threatens. It is as valid today as it was then. But, prison, in Herod’s time, was not the place where you waited for trial; it was the place where you waited for death. John the Baptizer was as good as dead.

What would Jesus do now in this defining moment? He had options - he could:

1. Cool it. Back off and save his own life;
2. Mount a verbal counter attack on Herod; that was mission impossible;
3. Take up the calling and message of John - and continue to advance the Kingdom of God – come what may.

Jesus decides to pick up where John left off and eventually pays the same price as john.

Jesus’ response is immediate and swift: he moves directly from his quiet home in Nazareth to Capernaum on the travel route by the Sea of Galilee. This is the land of Herod Antipas, who had arrested John and would later judge Jesus. Remember, Jesus, as an infant had fled Herod the great; now, in adulthood, he moved courageously toward Herod the Great’s son like an Olympian taking up the torch of John’s message: “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.”

We know that the word for “repentance” in Greek is metanoia – and it means “a change of mind / heart” to thinking outside the box of ego. This is the remedy for the “darkness,” the rut of meaningless human existence in which so many folks find themselves.

Jesus realizes he needs help to teach the lesson of love of God and neighbor; he recruits. He walks by the Sea of Galilee and sees two sets of brothers: Peter and Andrew and James and John. He says, come, follow me; I will make you fishers of people.

He was calling them to a far more difficult task than outwitting fish that instinctively seek food. He was calling them to attempt, like himself, to lure people into finding the gut-felt need for meaning in their lives.

Humans are not fish. He could not and would not use the force of a net or a baited hook. Humans have free will. He had only his message as a lure to attract them to the light of truth. Jesus’ image of “catching” is perfect. He seeks the hearts of human beings. The seeking involves luring – as in fishing.

At his call, they immediately follow him. But why? He was charismatic. That is, there was an “air” about him, an air of enthusiasm, of passion. He exuded zeal. When he spoke, he clearly knew what he was talking about - what his Jewish listeners called “speaking with authority.” The four saw this. Jesus did not act “cool.” He was “hot” – not in the current idiom of “hot,” nor fanatically hot [like a nut case], but confidently hot, not lukewarm. His outspoken confidence in his message was contagious. Folks caught his enthusiasm. When they listened to him, they were “hooked.” They responded to him. They believed him – and more importantly, they believed in him.

We do not see much of that fire coming from the hierarchy today. We see them act like reactors, like legislators, not leaders. They legislate hard laws [canons] and soft laws [“guidelines,“], focusing on means to some vague end. They lack fiery zeal for the end – Jesus, our light.

May each of us always keep our eyes on Jesus, our passionate leader and our inspiration. May we continue to see with his eyes, hear with his ears, touch with his hand.

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time (January 15, 2023)

Some folks claim that President Jimmy Carter is the best “former president” we have ever had. He travelled the world to try to bring peaceful solutions to international trouble spots and tried to ensure fair elections in foreign lands. He also built dozens of houses for Habitat for Humanity. All the while he continued to conduct a regular Sunday morning Bible study in his church. I never heard any critic say that he is not a good person; many would call him, “holy.”

All three readings touch on a curious topic: holiness. Holiness anticipated in Israel in the first reading; holiness initiated by Jesus in the third; holiness, the call, to the Corinthians and us by St. Paul in the second reading.

Holiness is a mystery. But, as always, we can penetrate mystery to some extent. It becomes somewhat easier to approach if we talk about friendship -- and the form of presence it brings. We have friends; we have some especially close friends. What we have in our mutual presence to one another is wonderful. Holiness is what happens when we become especially close friends with the lord.

Friendship does not happen just because someone does nice, friend-things. Holiness does not happen just because one does “holy” things. One cannot become your close friend simply by shoveling your walk. One cannot become a close friend of God [holy] by doing something. The notion of holiness gets muddied by people who will never be accused of being called “holy” doing “holy” things. Actually, such people give holiness a bad name.

In short, holiness, like friendship, is not in the realm of doing; it is in the realm of being - in being a good friend of the Lord -- a kind of very special presence.

In holiness as in close, earthly friendship, we become psychologically united with the other. If cultivated, persevered in, friendship comes to the point where we interpenetrate each other’s consciousness. We can finish the other’s sentences.

In times past, the ones called to holiness were thought to be clergy, religious sisters, brothers, and priests. The Second Vatican Council, following the teaching of St. Francis de sales shot that idea down. Every one of us is called to holiness. The council referred to this as “the universal call to holiness.” It was a real, spiritual breakthrough.

A third notion after what holiness is - becoming friends with God - and who are called - every one of us - is how each of us has been called.

Our Lord individually customizes holiness. There is no “cookie cutter” approach. No two of us are called to holiness in precisely the same way. Each of us is individually “called by name” because each of us has our personal, lived experience. Each of us uniquely becomes a friend of the lord in our holiness.

Our gathering here at Eucharist is our God-given gift of closeness. It is not an accident that the first document to come out of that council was on the liturgy. Liturgy is the first listed of resurrection’s five, basic dimensions of our community life in the current parish directory. Eucharist is the sun of all devotions; it is that around which everything else revolves. Both the sun and Eucharist bring light and warmth.

We are called to “live Jesus.” That is, we are called to live our lives with Jesus, our friend, trying to speak what Jesus calls us to speak, trying to do what Jesus calls us to do.

We cannot make ourselves holy. That is the work of the sanctifier, the Holy Spirit. As the Eucharistic prayer reminds us, “Father, you are holy indeed, and all creation rightly gives you praise. All life, all holiness comes from you through your son Jesus Christ, the Lord, by the working of the Holy Spirit. “

The Holy Spirit works in us when we are open, when we present ourselves to him without “talking at him.” Our prayer is the prayer of Samuel: “Speak Lord, your servant is listening.”

It has been well said by Louis Pasteur, the scientist: “All that we can give God is our desire.” We need not worry about becoming holy. The Holy Spirit takes care of that.”

Baptism of Our Lord (January 9, 2023)

Today is the feast of our Lord’s baptism by John the Baptizer. This was not a sacrament; sacraments had not yet been instituted. This marks both the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry and his identification with us, Jesus would later choose baptism to be the initiation and lifetime lifestyle of the reformation of the Jewish faith.

So much has happened in our understanding of all that surrounds the sacrament that I thought today would provide a good opportunity to talk about baptism.

Wm. J. Bausch in A New Look at the Sacraments tells us that in the Roman Empire where our church has roots, a “sacrament” meant an oath or pledge of allegiance a soldier took to the Roman emperor. For us it is a public allegiance to follow Jesus. We remember that Jesus never used the word, “sacrament” - it is a church word.

Years ago when many of us were baptized -- and perhaps your kids, too -- there was a rather shortsighted understanding of baptism. Godparents took us to church. Our mothers were home making the potato salad for the party afterward. Honestly, there was often more concern about the party than for the baptism itself.

Baptism was thought to be almost magical – a ceremony where water was poured, and special words were said that would remove a stain from the soul. “Stain” was a metaphor to indicate the effects of the sin of Adam and Eve.

Today, “original sin” is seen as “sin in our origins” - the accumulation of evil that surrounds us from the time of Adam and Eve until the present. Today, both parents and godparents are present and all four publicly promise to teach the Christian truths and practice that form a moral atmosphere, to be an influence for good to offset the worldly evil that engulfs the child. To understand this, parents and sometimes, godparents are required to go to class on baptism before the child is baptized.

Baptism is not simply a ceremony - it is a lifestyle. Baptism has an impact on our daily vocabulary, our attitude toward life, and our conduct. It affects - or should affect- how we pay our taxes, work with co-workers, talk to and about our neighbors, how we choose to be entertained, how we react when we receive too much change from the store clerk. For our pledge to take root, we need other believers to help us by their example on how to live out this pledge. Faith is more caught than taught. Our early practice of this lifestyle comes from our parents and family. If their practice was good; our practice tended to be good. If their practice was poor, our practice tended to be poor. When we are old enough to know right from wrong in the atmosphere of our parents and family, we choose to keep – or not keep - this pledge for ourselves. Not to decide is to decide negatively.

Like marriage and priesthood, baptism involves a vocation. Baptism is actually a variation of the sacrament of marriage: the Lord and we took each other for better, for worse; for richer for poorer; in sickness and in health, ... Until death do we unite. It is about relationship

We hear today of “baptized unbelievers.” a seeming contradiction: people who go through the motions of religion, but have not experienced the personal, life-altering conversion that is essential. It was rightly said after the Vatican Council ended and a new course was set that the task of the church then was to convert the baptized.

The question is asked: why don’t we baptize people when they are old enough to choose for themselves? Our answer:

That would mean that to raise a child religiously neutral is to be religiously neutral ourselves. It would mean having our children live among us as non-Christians. Also, it would be an impossible, psychological tension precluded by the very nature of faith and the commitment that faith requires. It would be like not immunizing your child, spiritually. Later, they may repudiate their baptism, but they cannot object later to having been baptized any more than they can object to their parents’ setting up an educational trust fund, if they later decide against further education.

Today is the last day of Christmastime in the liturgy. Tomorrow begins “ordinary time,” the real Christian life is not lived in the more spectacular Christmas and Easter times, but in the long hauls in between. Ordinary time provides us with the time to be faithful to our pledge, faithful to our sacrament of baptism - our vocation as ordinary people living as extraordinary Catholic Christians.

Epiphany of the Lord (January 8, 2023)

Kenneth Woodward, the longtime religion editor for Newsweek magazine says that there are some words that are unmistakably Catholic:

Missalette - strictly Catholic

Ejaculation – claims he says that Catholics are the only ones who use the word in polite conversation without batting an eye.

Epiphany - manifestation or showing.

Epiphany is the second part of Christmas time. The time for gift giving in a large part of the world. To celebrate December 25 only, is shortsighted; it is only half the Christmas story. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves:

Do we tend to stop at the story of Christmas with baby Jesus?

Do we move beyond the crib, to the second part?

The Epiphany is manifestation of the good news of God’s love. It involves the search of the magi. (Magicians, astrologers are better words than kings.) The scribes had the information but didn’t use it. Because of the dullness or hardness of their hearts they ignored, “And you, Bethlehem of the tribe of Judah, a savior will arise from you.”

Herod got the information and used it - for his own self-interest - to stay in power. The magi did not know truth, the meaning of life; they had to look for it. They became curious about a star, and they followed it. They did not know where it would lead. Wisely, they sought advice from the scribes, the experts. The magi took the information and did use it. The magi were risk takers. They were willing to broaden their horizons.

To find the Lord, we need to seek him as the magi who successfully sought and found him. We do not find god in the book of the scriptures, alone. We find meaning to life by seeing our life experiences in the light of those words. We experience a true epiphany in our lives each time we do this.

Epiphany is about the trials of a journey, about the generosity of bringing gifts, but above all, as an overarching presence: it is about finding and accepting Jesus as the center of our life.

We speak of shepherds and wise men often in the same breath. They are the outer circles in our Christmas crèches; there is, at the center, Jesus in the manger, then Mary and Joseph forming the inner circle. Then, the shepherds and various animals; finally, the wise men.

We have already heard how Mary and Joseph got there. Shepherds had it easy. The directions were excellent. The light was bright. The journey was short. The music was great! The magi – as well as ourselves - have it tougher.
There is plenty of confusion. We are very often in the dark. Sometimes, we, like the whole venture, appear foolish. Sometimes there is danger. Some people whom we would like to please will think we are crazy. Ironically, we think we are searching; but god, we are told, is actually reaching out to us; we are just responding.

The wise men reached their goal, Jesus, at the center. The starlight may have been poor, but it was enough to get them there. Our way may not always be clear; other lights shine brightly in competition. But finding our way always has to do with seeking Jesus; and we always have enough light because Jesus is the light of the world. He is always manifest in the gospel of Matthew which we just read, gifts are a way of expressing, giving ourselves to Christ.

Gold symbolizes deep respect. Our presence at mass is an expression of that gift. Frankensence represents a caring, fragrant presence to others. Myrrh was used for embalming and symbolizes the faith that goes beyond death. Faith is what underpins our gifts. A legend says that Casmir, Melchior, Balthazar travelled proclaiming Jesus’ kingship to Cologne in Germany. In the cathedral that dominates that city, there are their reputed tombs behind the main altar.

It is our respect, our caring and our faith that we bring to our Lord. Only in respecting and loving our lord are we able to enter the stable. Then, we who have found Jesus have the wonderful task of manifesting him to those whose lives we touch, of continuing the epiphany to the ends of the world.

MARY, MOTHER OF GOD (January 1, 2023)

“Look at Mary in all the circumstances of her life. In her room at Nazareth, she shows her modesty in that she is afraid, her candor in wanting to be instructed and in asking a question, her submission, her humility in calling herself a handmaid. Look at her in Bethlehem: she lives simply and in poverty, she listens to the shepherds as though they were learned doctors. Look at her in the company of the kings: she does not try to make any long speeches. Look at her at the time of her purification: she goes to the temple in order to conform to church customs. In going to Egypt and in returning she is simply obeying Joseph. She does not consider she is wasting time when she goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth as an act of loving courtesy. She looks for Our Lord not only in joy but also in tears. She has compassion on the poverty and confusion of those who invited her to the wedding, meeting their needs. She is at the foot of the cross, full of humility, lowliness, virtue, never drawing any attention to herself in the exercise of these qualities.” (Stopp, Selected Letters, page 159)

When Mary agreed to be the mother of Jesus, she got much more than she bargained for. Her “yes” to God’s invitation to be the mother of the Messiah forever changed the course of her life.

But as Francis de Sales observed, she constantly reaffirmed that “yes” as she experienced God’s Will for her son, God’s Will for her husband and God’s Will for her. In good times, bad times and all the times in between, she fully embraced the mysterious designs of God imbedded in whatever circumstances in which she found herself.

We, too, are called to give birth to Jesus. While not a physical birthing, this call is no less challenging or demanding than it was for Mary.

As we see in the life of Mary, giving birth to Jesus is not a one-time event: it is a life-long process. Saying “yes” to giving birth to Jesus is about being faithful to God’s Will for us and others, one day, one hour, one moment at a time.

Giving birth to Jesus is about fully and deeply embracing the responsibilities, events and circumstances of the state and stage of life in which we find ourselves. It’s about rolling with the punches while remaining steadfast in the conviction that God loves and cares for us.

Mary is a powerful reminder that giving birth to Jesus brings more than its share of inconveniences, headaches and heartaches. At the same time, Mary is likewise a powerful reminder of how one person’s fidelity to the Will of God can change the world…for the better.

Holy Family (December 30, 2022)

Choosing freely is part of the American way of life. We choose our friends, we choose our colleges, and we choose what we will do with our life. We may somehow come mistakenly to view ourselves as supreme rulers in the supermarket of free choice

We can easily assume that freedom of choice applies to all areas of life. But, reality sets in. We have physical limitations: I will never be the starting quarterback for the eagles. More sadly, I will not be chosen to replace a “hunk” on TV.

Our relational world has limits too. Freedom of choice does not extend to our family. We do not choose our parents. Children do not come with toe-tag guarantees that parents can read, then accept or reject. Brothers and sisters do not choose each another.

What we learn from the reality of our family is that the family is the place where we learn how to be - at times - “stuck with” others. We adjust to one another as circumstances and our ages change. We are determined to stick together and separate only if our relationship is no longer life giving, but becomes death dealing. Blessed, blessed are those who have the courage to move from a death-dealing relationship and move on.

Learning how to be “stuck with” the people whom we have not chosen is a very important lesson to learn in a society that assumes that real freedom is found only when we have choices available to us.

There is an odd case of “stuck-with-ness” in the holy family whom we celebrate today. What binds this family together is not the bonds of freedom of choice, romance, or sexuality. What binds this family is the bond of divine mission “the will of God.”

I used to have trouble preaching about the holy family as a model family because they are so radically different from us:

Mary-total freedom from sin, full of grace, a virgin-mother;

Joseph-guided by God in dreams when tough calls came.

Jesus-100% God/100% man: unique - not your usual only child.

How can any family hope to imitate a family like that?
I’m afraid I missed the point - which is easy to do when I am immersed in “the American way.”
From another standpoint, the holy family is viewed differently:

Mary- “Let it be done to me according to your will.” She did not know the consequences of that choice. After raising Jesus, she would hear: “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and keep it.”

Joseph - After the incredible story from Mary and a dream: “Joseph took Mary as his wife . . .” The will of God!

Jesus - “I have come to do the will of the one who sent me.” “Father, not my will, but yours be done.”

Jesus, Mary and joseph each had the overarching bond to the will of our father. That, we can emulate.

The holy family did not have it easy. After Jesus’ birth, they had to leave the country, relocate. Joseph had to find work in their “forced relocation” in Egypt while fleeing for Jesus’ life. They experienced family sickness; they experienced the death of parents / grandparents the same as all families. Joseph banged his thumb with his hammer. Mary got distracted and incinerated dinner. We can identify with those experiences of humanity.

Out of this blessed-as-no-other, yet human family, God fashioned a family -community united in their desire to follow the Father’s will.

Working at having a good family requires of us: mutual respect, affirming one another, sharing . . . “stuff” and the bathroom, patience with one another, and, most importantly, forgiving.

Healthy family living teaches us that free choice is not always possible. Family living is a great training ground for those places we have to be with others: in the work place and even in the Church-place.

Both our natural family and our church family have something in common: both families are like spokes of a wheel that center on the hub who is the Lord. Like a wheel, the closer we get to the center, the closer we get to one another.

Christmas (December 25, 2022)

His parents called him Yeshua, the Aramaic word for Jesus. The scriptures call him Emmanuel, Lord, Messiah, and Prince of Peace, the Christ, the Word of God made flesh.

Each of these wonderful titles gives an insight into the magnificence of Jesus whose birthday we are celebrating. But, there is one name that I think stands above all others. It is the name that comes from the tradition of St. John, the disciple who was closer to Jesus than the others, the one who would accompany him up the mountain of the transfiguration - when he shone like the sun; the one who accompanied him across the Kedron valley to the Garden of Gethsemane the night before he died, the one who stood loyally at the foot of the cross with his mother on Good Friday. He is the disciple whom Jesus loved.

From these experiences, we hear from the tradition of John, God’s final and finest title, the name given that not only names him, but, more importantly, describes his very nature: “God is love.” Jesus, as the word made flesh, is love enfleshed.

At Christmas we celebrate the astounding fact that, at a specific time in the history of humanity, love overflowed the infinite expanses of heaven and burst into our world in the form of a human being, Jesus. Jesus is the gift of the Father to us. He remains with us as we celebrate him here in Eucharist.

God who is love has gifted each of us with the gift of being loved and thereby lovable. There is one more step to take in the divine plan: that we share our gift of love with others. Then, God’s love will continue to overflow heaven and through you and me, in a ripple effect, to transform our world. All will be one as the Father and the Son are one in love. Jesus is the reason for the season. He encourages us to carry his love always in our hearts.

A gift is the giving of oneself to another. The gifts we give at Christmas - or any time - are an expression, a stand-in, for ourselves and a continuation of god’s sharing with us. Each gift to another person is another mini-chapter in the ongoing love story.

It may be the gift of our time for friends, family, another. It may be the gift of our talent, the work of our minds and hands - as so many of our forebears have given to us. It may be the gift of our treasure - what we spend of our hard-earned money for family, friends, for those who are dear to us and some whose names we do not even know.

There is a negative experience that makes our positive experience more poignant by contrast. We all feel annoyed at giving a “gift” that is not a real gift from our heart, but an insincere “gift” of obligation or an attempt at manipulation. These are corruptions of the beautiful notion of gift.

Each of us human beings has been shown the models for giving in our Father in heaven and in Jesus, his Son. The gift of Christmas is the gift of love, bestowed and accepted. Our gifts to one another are the ongoing love story we live.

Fourth Sunday of Advent (December 18, 2022)

John the Baptizer, aunt Elizabeth’s son, the wild one with the strange clothes and weird diet has left the stage of Advent liturgy. Enter another character: Joseph, the carpenter, the quiet man.

If you are confused by today’s Gospel, perhaps it would help to know that in the Jewish culture of that time, marriages were arranged by the parents of the couple or by the village elders, often when the kids were less that seven years old.

When the girl was about twelve, the marriage [today we would call it the formal engagement] took place in the home of the bride’s father to ratify what had been decided some years before. The couple was then considered to be husband and wife. If the husband died, she was considered a widow.

The final stage of the wedding took place a year or two later when the bride was formally taken to the groom’s home to share a bed with him for the first time. At this point she still had to be a virgin or the marriage could be easily nullified. So, annulments go back before Jesus’ day. Jewish law also provided for that adulterous woman to be stoned to death.

Imagine yourself in Joseph’s sandals. Your fiancée has just said: “Joseph, there is something I need to tell you. I’m pregnant. . . No, It is by the Holy Spirit…” When you recover from the shock, you have three choices:

1. Believe her: Joseph would need tremendous faith in Mary to do that. There is no evidence to prove he did have that faith.

2. Not believe her, that is, as a follower of the law, a rule keeper, and break off the engagement. Expose her. Mary could be stoned to death for adultery, her presumed sin, according to “the law.”

3. Not believe her but decide to step beyond strict justice. Joseph decides to be compassionate, put her away quietly. This was joseph’s first position. Joseph may have taken a strong nightcap before bed that night.

We learn in scripture that difficult situations are sometimes resolved by a visit from an angel. In a dream an angel comes to Joseph and says: “fear not.” [Which implies that Joseph was afraid. What normal person would not be?] The angel tells Joseph that the pregnancy is God’s doing.

When Joseph awoke, he did not decide that the strange dream could be attributed to his nightcap or bad olives at dinner. Although Joseph believed that keeping the law was doing the will of God, he bravely stepped out onto a higher road to discern God’s will. He neither conformed to the law –to expose - Mary nor compassionately “put her aside.” Rather, he more compassionately took her into his home as his wife.

It takes a special courage for rule-keepers to stretch as Joseph did. We need only look to bureaucrats in any current institution to see how difficult it is for them to get past the letter of the law. Rule-keepers fear that if life isn’t codified, then at best, superiors will be upset if one does not follow the rules; at worst, chaos will prevail.

Joseph the carpenter crafts a creative response of love in a world of law. To fulfill the will of God we sometimes have to see the truth and go beyond “the law.”

Joseph was part of the divine plan in two instances:

1. Joseph took Jesus as his foster son, establishing the prophesied lineage of David.
2. Joseph humbly said “yes” to resolve the paradox of Jesus’ being both divine and human without comprehending it.

Jesus learned more than carpentry from his foster father. He also learned about obedience as listening, about stepping out in faith - trust.

Jesus learned openness to new possibilities, new ideas, from Joseph and later would understand that all the answers are not in the law.

Jesus learned compassion from his foster father. Experiencing Joseph’s compassion helped Jesus to listen to people, to understand. Jesus would also act compassionately -- even act against “the law” in practicing compassion as an adult.

Joseph does not have one, recorded word in scripture. Almost nothing is known about him. Yet, he is held up to us as a model during Advent: a model of obedience / listening, of openness to new ideas. Of compassion, Pope John XXIII initiated the first change in the mass in four hundred years by inserting St. Joseph’s name in the Eucharistic prayer.

As the fourth Sunday of Advent passes, let us be aware of the two patron saints of advent who appear to be very different:

• John the Baptizer: single-minded in his desire to do God’s will. • Joseph: a man who listened, who was open to new possibilities, who was compassionate.

If we become like John in becoming more single-minded, if we become like Joseph, more a listener to the father, being more open, more compassionate, we will have spent a wonderful Advent.

Third Sunday of Advent (December 11, 2022)

John, the son of Zechariah and Elizabeth, called the baptizer in 3 gospels, came roaring out of the desert in last Sunday’s gospel. He was regarded as a holy man, a prophet. He told it like it was - a prophet tells not so much what will happen, but what is the unsugared truth.

Doing that got him in trouble; it usually does. He told king Herod it was wrong for him to take his brother’s wife. He was put in jail. That is where we find him in today’s Gospel

He has much time to think. He hears reports about Jesus’ ministry. His expectations of Jesus were not being fulfilled. He, like ourselves, expects others to be like us. Jesus was not the expected firebrand like himself. He didn’t understand. Doubts about Jesus crept in. He sent his disciples to Jesus to ask in his typically very direct way: “Are you he who is to come, or shall we look for another?”

Jesus replies in his typically indirect way - quoting the same prophetic words we heard in today’s first reading from Isaiah [Chs 35 & 61]. The blind see; the deaf hear; the lame walk -- the fulfillment of the prophecies. Jesus let john draw his own logical conclusion.

A wonderful lesson for us! Jesus does not rebuke John for doubting. Having doubts about our faith can be spiritually healthy. There was a time when doubting our faith was tantamount to denying it. Doubting was thought to be serious enough to separate us from God.

Fortunately, the Church has progressed. There are reasons for our faith becoming shaky. I would like to look at three that are not uncommon.

First, doubting can come from sinning. It is well said: “If we do not act as we believe; we soon begin to believe as we act.” If we begin to act clearly contrary to god’s will for us, we can come to the point where we justify our behavior by believing we are right and God is wrong. So, we doubt him. Then, we avoid him - - as Adam and eve avoided God in the garden. Who of us cannot think of people we know who fall into this category including, perhaps, ourselves at some point?

Second, some doubt has no connection to sin of any kind, but comes from a deeply felt disappointment with God. We feel god should have stepped in or acted differently. God should have fulfilled my expectations. Who of us has not had trouble in this area? Probably, this area of expectations is the one with which john the baptizer was having trouble.

Third, some doubt because of the church that claims to represent God and in critical areas does not. We, and I mean we, need to realize that some members of the people of god do not represent God’s will. In fact, they represent god disgracefully poorly. For our part, we need to recall that the church is not god although many grew up thinking that the will of the church and the will of god were identical. John the baptizer did not have to contend with this issue. We do. We affirm our faith in Jesus, not the church as our messiah.

Some possible solutions:

• The doubt that comes from seeking happiness in the wrong places can be fixed by seeking God’s will, not our own, and reconciling ourselves with our lord.

• The doubt that comes from dashed expectations of god or the institutional church can be removed by renewed faith in Jesus, when I was a child, I remember being baffled by a sign in a donut shop. “As you amble on through life, brother, whatever be your goal, keep your eye upon the donut, not upon the hole.” My father bent down and explained it to me. It was a lesson for life, including church-life. Keep our eye on what is there and good, not on the lack of what is good. The Holy Spirit is still alive and well. Like the farmer in the first reading, we are called to renewed patience with the people of god. The result is the gift of joy that comes from our newfound faith in the Lord.

The possibility of reconciling with God - if that is necessary, and/or of renewing our faith is the reason for today being called “rejoice Sunday” on this, the third Sunday in advent. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Lord allows us to be in situations like the above to give us the opportunity of expressing our trust in him -- because that is, after all, what faith is.

When we weather the storm of doubt and enter the safe harbor of childlike - not childish - faith in a loving God whom we know would not harm us, we experience joy.
Joy is not a cheap emotion. Joy does not come as easily as laughter or as spontaneously as happiness. Joy has qualities all its own. Joy may be experienced as an enduring sense of satisfaction or a sense of elation. Either way, joy comes only through struggle: the pain of childbirth, the victory of a championship, the completion of studies, and the attainment of a deep life-insight.

Joy is the word of Christmas. “Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy,” said the angel. God wants us to be joyful. We read in John’s Gospel: “Ask and you shall receive, so that your joy may be complete.”

I ask you to finish the homily. Think of the times in your life when you were joy-full. Rejoice!

Second Sunday of Advent (December 4, 2022)

Many of us have had the experience while listening to the radio or watching TV, a voice interrupts: “We interrupt this program to bring you this important announcement.” With all the shopping, the baking, the decorating, and the card-writing of this time - - it sounds strange to hear the prophets breaking into our pre-Christmas chaos that is almost routine.

Advent is the spiritual time when we turn our attention to meeting our Lord, either the meeting at the end of time or our meeting him at the time of our death… whichever comes first. And - although we never know for sure - the likelihood is that we will not be meeting Him for the first time at His Second Coming.

Prophets - for many of us growing up - were persons who foretold the future. In our maturity, we come to understand that the prophets were people who help us look into rather than look ahead.

Prophets are introduced into the Advent readings because the dispositions that the prophets call us to are the dispositions we are to have when we meet Our Lord. In the First Reading, we meet Isaiah, perhaps the greatest of the Old Testament prophets. He was, at once, fearless and poetic. He describes the ideal leader who was not gifted with health, wealth, and popularity -- but the person who was gifted with wisdom and counsel, strength and knowledge. As time played out, that prophet was Jesus.

In our Gospel Reading, we meet Saint John the Baptist, the cousin of Our Lord - not to be confused with John, one of the sons of Zebedee, the beloved disciple, the one to whom is attributed the fourth Gospel authorship.

John the Baptist is not the most pleasant person to hear about or visualize. His words are not pleasing to our ears. No one likes to hear about the chaff being burned out of our lives. He is a radical, absolutely, single-minded and ruthless in his pursuit of God’s reign in the lives of all. Advent is a time of looking into our hearts. It is a time of looking at what is present there and determining where we are to grow if we are to meet our Lord without fear in our hearts.

Prophets exist in the New Testament, too. They are spiritual giants who give us insights into ourselves. Men and women who call us to grow and give us help in growing.

Saint Francis de Sales was a prophet who gives us help to grow in a more positive way than some traditional, ascetic, punitive practices. Francis de Sales is a prophet who leads us along a positive approach. Unlike John the Baptist and ascetics who follow in his tradition, Francis emphasizes the love God has for us and our personal goodness. He encourages us to build on that goodness and respond to God’s love by loving God back and loving God’s other children. In doing this, we spiritually grow.

He is the modern saint whose insight into relationships provides a sense of direction and a model for us. He seesBaptist the basic teaching of Jesus as love expressed in the two great commandments: love for God and love for neighbor. Advent is a time to look into ourselves prophetically. We need to look at two relationships: our God - our neighbor.

We know from experience - ourselves and others - that no relationship is maintained without communication. Certainly the same is true with Jesus. Are we taking the time to pray, to steal moments from our busy days - perhaps while driving, while doing dumb things that are “no brainers” (like folding wash, walking to our next required presence, driving familiar streets and roads) - spaces that provide time to be alone with our Lord and express our frustrations, our joys, our sorrows? We need to take time to be present to Him and allow Him to be present to us.

Francis de Sales shows us how to become the person the Lord calls us to be by lovingly walking the path of life in a gentle-before-humans and a humble-before-God-manner.

It is not the manner of John the Baptist, but it is at least equally effective without John’s diet of grasshoppers and wild honey and his fashion statement-loin cloth.

First Sunday of Advent (November 27, 2022)

Advent readings send us a confusing message. The readings at the beginning of Advent are about the Second Coming of Christ at the end of time. The readings at the end of Advent are about the first coming of Christ in Bethlehem.

The readings about Jesus’ birth present their own problem. We cannot pretend that Jesus has not already come. That would be:

• a suspension of belief in the incarnation

• a suspension in belief in the life and ministry of Jesus

• a suspension in belief in what brings us together in this place today

We cannot pretend that something historical has not happened. Jesus did arrive. We await his return.

Many years ago, there was a debate in Damascus between Jewish and Christian scholars as to whether a new covenant had occurred. The Jewish scholars pointed to the words of the First Reading, saying that the swords have not been turned into plows and that the spears have not been turned into pruning hooks. Violence remains. The Jewish scholars remained convinced that the Messiah did not come.

When we look at the world situation today: ethnic rivalries, the violence in our cities, the disparity between the rich and the poor and the homelessness that becomes “the top story” on the latest news, we can sympathize with that argument of the Jewish scholars.

It seems that many so-called Christians let the words of scripture fall on deaf ears. The First Reading tells us: let’s get moving; the Second Reading tells us to wake up; the Gospel Reading advises us to stay awake - to turn off that spiritual snooze alarm that delays the inevitable reality of our lives. Remember when Jesus woke Peter, James and John in the Garden of Gethsemane, he asked, “Why are you sleeping?” Remember the sleeping maidservants without oil for their lamps? Jesus made a teaching point of complaining about sleeping on the job.

We may not be able to change world violence, but we can wake up to our personal violence: the violence of attitudes in indifference, violence brought on by not speaking to someone, the violence of holding a grudge and not forgiving someone.

The city of Pompeii was destroyed by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79CE. A recent book tells of archeologists’ unearthing people who were buried alive in volcanic ash. I think an important spiritual lesson can be learned from this event. The people who were carrying heavier possessions were slowed by them and were found closer to Vesuvius, overrun by the lava. The less they carried, the less they were in jeopardy.

Jesus spoke pointedly about people who carry grudges or bear unforgiving anger toward another. Their spiritual growth is slowed or even ceases. If we listen to his words about having too many worldly goods, we wake up and realize our need to drop extra baggage and live more simply. If we wake up to his words about carrying grudges and dwelling on past injuries, we can consciously work to drop them, so that we may get on with our spiritual progress.

Here, at the beginning of Advent, our readings sound a wake-up call about our meeting Jesus at the end. We need to take the opportunity to see what we are carrying that holds us back, slows us from becoming the person Jesus calls us to become and from enjoying the peace that only he can bring.

Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe (November 20, 2022)

Kingship is off-putting in our democratic culture and authority has so often become such a soiled garment in our times that the idea of ultimate authority can seem strange. We need to interpret what this Feast of Christ the King means.

King and kingdom imply power and authority over other people. There are two ways of moving people to do what we would like them to do: one is to force them to do it whether they want to or not, coercive power; the other is to attract them to do it because of the inherent goodness in doing it, persuasive power. Persuasive power is more difficult and usually takes more time.

Jesus was goaded to use coercive power three times in today’s Gospel: by the rulers, by the soldiers and by one of the thieves. He refused. Coercive power never accomplishes the conversion of mind and heart. It accomplishes only “behavior modification” as in prison or the 50-pupil catholic classroom of yesteryear. “My way or the highway, do it or else…”

If you and I possess any genuine goodness, it was not pounded into us. When we came under the influence of truly good people, a thought took shape in our minds, “Wow – this makes sense.” We may not even remember the incidents. But, if we look at the finest qualities people say they see in you and me, we can trace how these qualities became part of your and my character.

Jesus knew preeminently that we never accomplish real conversion except by persuasion. Persuasive power was at the heart of his teaching about his father’s kingdom. Jesus was invitational, “Come to me all you who are weary and heavily burdened, I will refresh you. Come, follow me. Zacchaeus, come down.”

Jesus’ single royal command is, ‘Love one another as I have loved you.” In Saint John’s 1st Letter, we read, “God is love. He who abides in love abides in God and God in Him.” His kingdom is the inbreaking of God’s presence in us.

Our Gospel tells the story of the two thieves on the crosses beside Jesus. Both were faced with the same choice about Jesus. One is consumed with himself and his situation. The other recognizes the goodness in Jesus and the lack of good in his own life – he is drawn to Jesus and acts upon it. The good thief snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Bishop Fulton Sheen said it well, “He remained a thief to the end. He stole heaven as his final caper.”

At the conclusion of our Eucharistic Prayer, we pray the Lord’s Prayer. We pray, "Thy kingdom come." We ask Our Father to fill our lives with Himself, love. Each of us needs to determine where we say, “thy kingdom come” and actually live “my kingdom come."

The Kingdom of God cannot be equated with the Catholic Church although, before Vatican II, we heard church leadership call the Catholic Church “the Kingdom of God on Earth” implying that if one were not a Catholic one would have great trouble getting to heaven.

The Kingdom of God is bigger than the Roman Catholic Church. Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world.” Jesus turns “power” and “authority” inside out. The Kingdom of God exists in the collective heart of the faithful who are open to divine and neighbor love.

The Kingdom of God is a presence in the world of unbelief. We attempt to be a vibrant model that is persuasively visible and attractive to everyone. We stand behind Jesus as he says, “Here I stand, knocking at the door...”

The closing feast of the liturgical year addresses our spirituality. So, on this Feast of Christ the King, we celebrate his persuasive love. May we look at Jesus and may we ask ourselves: what part of me still remains “my kingdom” and private? May we seek the goodness of God and allow the reign of God to thoroughly permeate us.

Next Sunday we begin the liturgical New Year. See you on the other side.

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time (November 13, 2022)

About forty years after Jesus’ death and resurrection, a cataclysmic event occurred. The Roman Empire’s leaders became fed up with the Jews:

• their whining opposition to Roman taxation,

• their constant complaining about the Roman rule and talk about a messiah,

• their pitiful rebellion that took the lives of some Roman soldiers.

The Romans had a long fuse with the Jews, but the sleeping giant awoke and marched on Jerusalem with merciless vengeance. They struck at the very heart of Judaism: the temple was destroyed so completely that all that remains to this day is what has come to be known as the “wailing wall.”

This event was more traumatic to Jews than the destruction of the World Trade Center is to us. This event was more devastating to Jews than nuking and evaporating Vatican City would be to Catholics. The Vatican is where the Pope dwells; the temple’s holy of holies was where Jews believed God dwelled.

Some early Christians believed that this destruction heralded the end of the world; the second coming would soon follow. Saint Luke wrote his Gospel about twenty years after the devastation and assures his readers: not so. We find in scripture the temple destruction and the end of the world confusingly mixed together.

We recall the approach of the year 2000. Fundamentalist preachers and self-proclaimed prophets pointed to then current catastrophes as proof that we were in the last days… and nothing happened!

At another time, Jesus said that even he did not know the time, only the Father knows the day and the hour. How in the world anyone presumes to know more than Jesus always baffles me.

We can learn several lessons from today’s liturgy.

Through those who persecuted the Christians, we learn that we must never think that we Catholics have it eternally all together. Our God is not limited by our opinion or by our viewpoint in our age.

From our insecurity, we learn that we need to remember that God loves us, but we have no assurance of an always serene and secure life. The twelve-step program insists on living one day at a time to avoid the anxiety that the unknown future otherwise stirs up. We need to learn from their experience and our spiritual masters to live in the present moment that God has given us. As the saying goes: “The past is history, the future is a mystery, the now is a gift and that is why we call it the present.” Concern about “the end” is a distraction that diverts our attention from what is important – the present.

I think the insight of Saint Francis de Sales is helpful here, “Do not look forward to what might happen tomorrow; the same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow when tomorrow becomes today.’’

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time (November 6, 2022)

Questions played an important role in Jewish theological, religious, political, and cultural life. The so-called “Rabbinical method” presumed that the best way to come to know the truth was to learn to raise the right questions.

Elie Wiesel –– author, scholar, and Holocaust survivor –– notes this in the opening pages of his book Night. In it, Wiesel’s mentor explained to him “with great insistence that every question possessed a power that did not lie in the answer.” (Bantam Books, 1960)

There is power in a question. There is promise in a question. There is possibility in a question.

This understanding sets the context for today’s selection from Saint Luke’s Gospel. The question of the Sadducees about marriage and the afterlife (not unlike the question posed by the chief priests and scribes in the verses immediately preceding these verses regarding paying taxes to Caesar) may not have been merely an attempt to trip up Jesus or to discredit him: it may also have been a legitimate desire to settle an ongoing dispute between the Sadducees and the Pharisees who disagreed on a variety of issues.

As so many times before, however, they did not like, understand, or accept Jesus’ answer. Herein lies the tragedy.

The scribes, the priests, the Sadducees, and the Pharisees were all raised in a culture that viewed questions as the path to mystical truth. Ironically, they may have had the most to gain from Jesus –– the embodiment of all mystical truth –– precisely because they had so many encounters with him, perhaps more than any other groups mentioned in the Gospel combined! Sad to say, it appears that they consistently asked the wrong questions: shortsighted questions, self-serving questions, disingenuous or insincere questions, all with a pre-determined answer in mind.

When asked why he prayed every day, Elie Wiesel’s mentor responded: “I pray to the God within me that God will give me the strength to ask the right questions.”

How often in our daily lives with Jesus and with one another do we ask for, desire, or even demand answers? How much energy do we invest wanting to know the bottom line? Yet, for all our efforts, are we any closer to knowing the things that really matter, the concerns of Earth that lead to the things of heaven? Why does our understanding of Jesus’ will for us, desire for us, longing, and love for us sometimes seem so elusive?

Could it be that we, too, are failing to ask the right questions?

Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time (October 30, 2022)

The Book of Wisdom, heard in the first reading, is the youngest book of the Jewish Bible and was written into excellent Greek at Alexandria in Egypt where the Torah was translated into Greek about 50 years before Jesus was born.

Wisdom attempts to promote service to the God of Israel as the most meaningful way of life.  It speaks of eternal life and accentuates God’s loving patience -- and -- it introduces a new title for God: “Lover of Souls.”

The title phrase “Lover of Souls” is dramatically carried out in today’s Gospel with Zacchaeus. God would have to be a lover of souls to love Zacchaeus.  His story is an ancient version of “Guess who’s coming to dinner.”  Zacchaeus is one of the most curious “characters” in the Gospels. He lives in Jericho, a city located about 15 miles east of Jerusalem near where the Jordan empties into the Dead Sea. Jericho is recognized as the oldest continually inhabited city in the world. On this day, a visitor enters Jericho, and it will forever be remembered not merely for its longevity.

Zacchaeus was, in our politically correct jargon, “vertically challenged.”  He was short. Also, he was less than “cool.” We hear of him, as an adult, running ahead and shinnying up a tree to try to see a passing celebrity, Jesus. Zacchaeus climbed the tree to see Jesus, but it was Jesus who envisions Zacchaeus.

What was it about Jesus and his message that offered Zacchaeus something that all his money and power as chief tax collector could not supply? Zacchaeus wanted something more. What it was propelled him to run ahead and climb the sycamore tree?

Zacchaeus was all too aware of relentless rejection by his fellow Jews. Jewish people then and now are not bashful about saying what they think. Jesus had several options when he saw Zacchaeus in that tree. He could have berated him as he did the Pharisees. He could have pointed up at him and confronted his self-centered greed and dishonesty, his exploitation of his own people. 

Instead, Jesus said, “Let’s do lunch.” A lot of things happened rapidly when Jesus invited himself to eat with Zacchaeus. Jesus went to eat in perhaps the finest house in Jericho. The Jews were astonished at Jesus eating with a sinner. His disciples may have tried to disappear, not knowing what to say after Jesus’ latest surprise. Jesus accepted Zacchaeus just as he was. This was precisely what Zacchaeus needed, acceptance from an obviously good person in spite of his sins. Zacchaeus means “pure or righteous.” He began to live up to his name that day.

Zacchaeus was amazingly moved, promising to give half his fortune to the poor and make quadruple amends for what he had taken unjustly.  It was the power of Jesus’ acceptance that could work that miracle of conversion.

This is an important lesson for us followers of Jesus. If we do not associate with those called sinners and only condemn them, what hope is there for them?  There is a standoff, not an opportunity for conversion.  Someone “living Jesus” who accepts the sinner and does not dwell on the sin can dissolve the distance between them in Christian love.

Jesus said to Zacchaeus, “Today salvation has come to this house since he also is a son of Abraham. For the son of man is come to seek and to save the lost.”

What an inspiring example for us.  To you who are still in school, there are kids in school who are -- to say the least “unpopular.”  They are often the butt of jokes, the one’s not picked, the ones over whom you might be afraid to lose popularity points if you treat them well.

We who are long gone from school, may not be actively unkind, but we still may avoid the lesson of this Gospel and fail to show the compassion of Jesus toward everyone whom we encounter.  

Jesus loves us to life in this Eucharist and in every Eucharist, forgiving us, inviting us into an ongoing relationship of love that witnesses to the depths of his mercy.