Christmas: Marvelous Things - Homily for January 1

Readings for Sunday, January 1 / Mary, Mother of God: Nehemiah 6:22-27  |  Psalm 67  |  Galatians 4:4-7  |  Luke 2:16-21

Have y
ou ever thought about how weird the word "spoon" is? What about the word "fork" or "knife" or "plate" for that matter? Who was the first person who thought "spoon" was an adequate description for the object we know as a spoon? Have you ever looked at your fingertips, looked at the patterns to see how they work, to how they go? Interestingly enough, all my fingerprints point the same way except one; it's backwards. I don't understand it. Maybe all of you are the same. It's the way it is. 

Those are odd questions to ask, and I can tell it by the looks on your face, presuming I had a little too much to drink last night to celebrate New Year's. But I ask those questions because they are questions we don't normally ask, things we don't normally think about. We say the words spoon, knife, fork and plate and we use them frequently, daily. We use our fingertips all through the course of our day, but how often are we mindful of them? How often do we reflect on why we are the way we are, why things are what they are, and their names and descriptions? 

Whenever I came to our parish, a couple years ago now, one of the things I did was I went around and took pictures of a bunch of random things: inside the churches, outside the churches, cemeteries and so on and I posted it on Facebook and asked, "Do you know where these things are?" Some of you may remember that. There were of course some things that were rather notable: statues of St. Vincent, stain glass windows, and various other things around here and at St. Ann. But there was one thing in particular caused a lot of people confusion because they didn't know where exactly it was, they hadn't seen it, and yet they were confused because it was so beautiful, but they wanted to know where it was. It was a little icon over the door at the back of the church here. How often we walk to the back of the church and we look down to make sure we don't miss a step, but we fail to look up to see a beautiful image right over our heads. And how many times we simply just walked out of the church without being mindful of it. That and so many other things that are so normal to us - spoons, forks, fingertips and things around us in the world - that they become simply, ordinary things, and they lose some of the marvel that ought to be rightly theirs, some of the awe that should strike deeply within our hearts. 

We celebrate a feast this weekend entitled "Mary, Mother of God." It's a title that should shock us, and usually it doesn't. In the early Church, there were great fights, literal fights, over the title "Mother of God" in regards to Our Lady. There were different bishops who were fighting among one another saying that she's the Mother of God and others who were saying that it was way too strong of a word, that she should be called the mother of the human nature of Jesus - She gave Jesus flesh. But to say Mother of God, no, that's too much. There was great division in the early Church. Many reflections that ultimately came down to bring to us this title of Mary, Mother of God which highlights certainly the maternity of Mary, that she is in fact the mother of God, Jesus Himself. But more importantly it spoke to Jesus, who was not just a human person, but fully God. These were things that shocked them. 

Indeed the scriptures we heard this past weekend, this weekend, the one we'll hear next weekend, and the ones we'll hear through the course of daily Masses, they are all ones where people are shaken. You hear stories of Elizabeth, who though barren, bore a child, John the Baptist, and how his father, Zechariah, while serving in the temple, saw a vision from an angel, and was told that his son would be the forerunner of the Savior. There was the incredible of recounting of how Zechariah doubted the angel's word, and he was struck mute. But on the day his son was born and he said his son's name was John, he scratched it on paper, he was healed and able to speak fully once more. Angels appeared to Our Lady to announce the good news and to St. Joseph. Angels appeared to the shepherds. A great star in the sky appears to the three magi, the three kings. All of these stories are things of incredible events. Our Lady, reflecting on all of these things in her heart and rightly so. And the news spread all through the region. Almost every one of those accounts indicates that little phrase with it: and the news spread all through the region, throughout Galilee, through the whole land, etc. Everybody heard. 

And yet, as time went on, the good news became normal. Jesus, the Son of God, the Son of David, God With Us, over the course of 30 years quietly working with his father in the workshop became no longer the Son of God to the people around Him, but became Jesus, the son of the carpenter. Mary, the Mother of God, the virgin who bore God in her womb, became Mary, another of the ladies living in Nazareth. St. Joseph, the one who heard the angel speak and was the caretaker of the Mother of God and God Himself became Joseph, the carpenter. So many normal things. And in the course of their days that's how they lived; they lived the exact same life as every single person around them despite the fact that there was something you unique about each of them. The extraordinary was right there in the midst of the ordinary things of daily life. And so many people likely missed it. How many people came to the workshop with St. Joseph and failed to recognize that his son was God - He was just working on a table. How many people sat alongside Mary at the well getting water to go home to take care of things at the house failing to recognize that she had bore God in her womb. How many people? As we reflect upon that aspect of Nazareth, the quietness, the hidden of the extraordinary in the ordinary things of daily life, it's an invitation for us to see again, to have our eyes opened up once more. 

One of the things I appreciated whenever I was working for my parents in the grocery store was that in the store, we could get used to things. In your workplace, things become part of the normal condition, and then someone comes in and says, "Hey, have you every noticed that you need to work on such and such." "No. It's just part of other things. I never thought about that. Thank you." It takes an extra set of fresh eyes to help see again, and it's that that the Church brings to us today. We come and we rest in the midst of Nazareth, in the quietness of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Mary the Mother of God. The Church simply says, "Have you noticed? Have you seen this? Have you let this speak to your heart lately?" To let it bring us to a state of awe, when we can't help but simply go, "Wow! How incredible!" 

This Christmas season has become a celebration that is very comfortable to us. We use the nativity scene, the magi and all the lights, the decoration, and all of these things. And it's good. But at the same time they are opportunities for us to see once again, see with new eyes, fresh eyes, the mystery of God before us. 

What I want to invite you to this week is to allow yourself to marvel at normal, even foolish, things. Marvel at them. Think about the word spoon for a while, look at your fingertips, think about the things of the Mass, the words we say each week. Look at your favorite scripture passage again and read it slowly with new eyes. Those prayers we offer that are so familiar to us, various prayers to saints, Our Lady, to Our Lord, various things we offer throughout the course of our days, to pause and say them differently and allow them to become fresh once more. To look at our churches and to see the beauties they possess and the ways in which they speak to us. Maybe it's our family and friends, people who we may take for granted, people are part of the normal scenery of our daily life, and to see the gift that they truly are to us. Opportunities for us to look around us, even in just the world, and to be in awed by God. Shock and wonder. Inspiration to be filled with the Holy Spirit and enjoy that moment of the things that God has done for us. 

As we allow ourselves to see incredible things in the course of our daily life, it becomes more and more easy for us to recognize that ordinary life is rather extraordinary because our Lord is with us. He has taken on our flesh, born of a virgin, lived among us, did the same things as you and I, and He comes to be with us even more still. Let us prayer for the grace of the Lord Jesus, through the intercession of Our Lady and St. Joseph, that we might be able to see with those new eyes the things that God desires to see with us and things He desires to show us, He who is "God With Us." 

Christmas: Reflecting on the Hidden - Homily for Christmas Day

Readings for Sunday, December 25 / Christmas Day: (4 Options are permitted; the homily did not
center on one set in particular)

Listening to Heartbeats

Readings for Sunday, July 10 / 15th Sunday of Ordinary Time:

Deuteronomy 30:10-14

Psalm 69

Colossians 1:15-20

Luke 10:25-37

It’s nice to be home. I want to begin by thanking you all for your prayers for me while I was on retreat. It was a week of many blessings and much peace, I believe on account of your prayers and love. I have to admit that it was disheartening to come back from such a profound experience of joy and peace into the social climate so full of unrest, injustices, violence, and divisions, coming now even to our area in Baton Rouge. Moving from one experience to the next really gave me something to reflect on as I drove home – the need of the human heart for peace. We were created for it, we long for it when it isn’t there, and even those who war against others and commit violence ultimately still seek peace as the final goal. The world offers us many ways to have peace. We can simply be without violence. We can work to gain the things that make us happy, the worldly possessions that make us content in some way. We can have a peace that comes by way of simply giving up our own (often religious) beliefs on ‘hot topics’ and thus smoothing things out. But none of these aspects of peace are lasting. There is only one place that gives lasting peace and it is the Heart of Jesus Christ.

The familiar story of the Good Samaritan is one that provides a great variety of options to pray with it. Certainly it is prescriptive in how we ought to live the Christian faith – the clarification of ‘who is my neighbor’ and ‘go and do likewise’ compel us to action for the spread of the Kingdom of Mercy. Too, we can reflect upon the individuals of the story and see in them aspects of our own life – the time that I have been the Samaritan, innkeeper, priest or Levite, wounded man, or the robbers. These are fruitful and help us to become more understanding of the mercy to which we are called.

As I’ve done mentioned in other homilies, the story is also that of the Lord Jesus. The wounded man on the roadside is us, humanity; all of us. The priest & Levite are those who do what is expected of them in the culture of the day; it was actually proper for them to avoid a person who was bloodied or dead, as it would make them ritually unclean and unable to perform some of the services expected of them. The Lord is the Samaritan who breaks the rule of what ought to be done and instead shows mercy to the one in need, at great personal cost. He pours out his wine and oil – signs of the Sacraments – and binds the man up and then brings him to the Inn for continued care. He stays for a short time and then departs, assuring that he will return and pay back everything given. The early Church Fathers saw in this the reality that Christ came to bring humanity to the ‘inn’ that is the Catholic Church, where we are to be continuously cared for until the Lord returns. What I spent time praying with this week was that while the oil and wine – symbolic of the Sacraments – was necessary for the healing of the man, it was not all that was provided at the inn. The innkeeper would surely have had to continue the work of the dressing and cleansing of wounds, but would have also to give food, shelter, clothing, conversation, and more to the man in the time of healing. This latter part, it seems to me, while not part of the sacramental order of things is of vital importance. And so to the Church provides for us the Sacraments and to compliment them, various devotions to feed and clothe us in the grace and peace of God.

The more I try to hear the voice of the Lord in prayer and try to read the signs of the times, the more and more I am convinced that right now all of our problems can be solved, all of our questions answered if we but simply have recourse to one particular devotion in the Church and that is the devotion to the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus.

The devotion to the Sacred Heart is, in a sense, hidden within this parable of the Good Samaritan because the parable is one of a love that seeks to show mercy. This is the merciful and Sacred Heart of Christ. In the 1600’s Our Lord appeared in a vision to St. Margaret Mary and stood before her, His Heart visible to her eyes. She marveled at it because it was ablaze with fire – a furnace of love. Another time He appeared and the same thing happened, except this time she gazed even deeper at the Heart and noticed that the brightness was far beyond that of the Sun, and yet it was also clear as crystal. Purity and passionate love. Seeing this, He reached out and took her own heart and placed it within His. As a log catches fire in the fireplace and gradually becomes indistinguishable from the rest of the flames, so too her heart began to catch flame and to burn with that same love in the Heart of Jesus. He then took her heart and gave it back.

In these days we must seek to do the same. We must rest in prayer and allow the Lord to set our hearts on fire with His love. We must turn to prayer first and foremost and there learn what to do. This, of course, has won me the ridicule of friends and others who see prayer as the ‘easy way out’. It seems that when things get too tough, the best thing is to simply say ‘pray about it!’ and all is better. While it could easily become the easy way out, I’m convinced it’s really not. One retreat I came across a timely quote by Catherine Doherty that affirmed this insistence upon prayer: “We must trust, resting peacefully on God’s breast, listening to His heartbeats, and realizing that in listening, we will find the answer to our questions.” It is in resting upon the breast of God, spiritually speaking, that we are able to truly discern what it is that God desires of us. Prayer is vital because it purifies us and allows us to seek the Will of God and not simply go with our own response. Every homily that you get from me is version 2.0 because the first homily in my heart is what I want to say, then that homily has to be purified before the Blessed Sacrament in prayer, where it is filled with the Love of God and given in a new way that I pray is fruitful.

Again, the parable calls us to action and mercy, but how do we show it? What do we do? What do we say? Where do we go? How Who is our neighbor? The answer to these and every question can be found in the quiet heartbeats of God. So I want to invite you to take up once again the devotion to the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus. Read a book about it. Find the prayers. Read one of the 4 papal documents written on it in the last 125 years. We have the statue here in church and many of you have images or statues in your homes. Take a minute this week and sit with that Sacred Heart. You don’t have to say anything, you need not ask a single question if you don’t want to. But know that if you take the time and listen, the Lord God will soon speak.

Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make our hearts like unto Thine.

...pray for us.

Readings for Sunday, February 1/ 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Deuteronomy 18:15-20
Psalm 95:1-2, 6-9
1 Corinthians 7:32-35
Mark 1:21-28

What is a Priest?

(by Catherine Doherty)

A priest is a lover of God.

A priest is a lover of men.

A priest is a holy man.

A priest understands all things.

A priest forgives all things.

A priest encompasses all things.

The heart of a priest is pierced, like Christ's, with the lance of love.

The heart of a priest is open, like Christ's, for the whole world to walk through.

The heart of a priest is a vessel of compassion.

The heart of a priest is a chalice of love.

The heart of a priest is the trysting place of human and divine love.

A priest is a man whose goal is to be another Christ; a priest is a man who lives to serve.

A priest is a man who has crucified himself so that he too may be lifted up and draw all things to Christ.

A priest is a man in love with God.

A priest is the gift of God to man and of man to God.

A priest is the symbol of the Word made flesh.

A priest is the naked sword of God's justice.

A priest is the hand of God's mercy.

A priest is the reflection of God's love.

Nothing can be greater in this world than a priest, nothing but God himself.

*********

At Madonna House's Retreat House for Priests

I’ve always been hesitant to preach about the priesthood from the pulpit because I don’t want it to appear that I’m getting up here to blow my own horn and let everyone know how awesome priests are (implicitly highlighting myself in that).  But a couple of weeks back when I was on the March for Life one of my brother priests began his homily talking about priests and it gave me a bit of encouragement. Additionally, I recall the fact that priests are not special in themselves but only because they are in fact priests. In the same manner that a chalice is precious because of what it holds in Mass and a church is sacred because of the worship that takes place within it, in the same manner, a priest is sacred not because of himself but because of what God has worked in his soul.

In recent weeks I’ve experienced a number of things that have made me reflect much more on this question of ‘What is a priest?’ It began with the celebration of Christmas and my first experience of being the pastor of a parish in one of the most important feasts of the year. The ability to be part of so many lives and families was incredible and I can’t thank you all enough for the joy of this first of hopefully many Christmases here. Following that was Msgr. Berggreen’s 50^th Anniversary Mass over in New Roads. The Church was full of people representing 50 years of his priestly ministry, barely an empty spot to stand. The following weekend we regrettably celebrated Fr. Clarence Waguespack’s funeral Mass in Pierre Part and there too encountered a church full of people present to give thanks to God for Fr. Waguespacks’ 51 years of priestly ministry. And this Saturday we celebrated the funeral Mass of our own Vicar General, Fr. Than Vu, who, though only 56 years of age, had a profound impact upon many souls. Once again, it was a church full of people with not an extra spot to stand. These events drove home to me the meaning and truth of the words of Catherine Doherty: “The heart of a priest is open, like Christ’s, for the whole world to walk through.”

In our baptism, each of us was anointing with Sacred Chrism Oil and were united to the mission of Jesus as priest, prophet, and king. Each of us is called to serve in a priestly manner by our prayers and sacrifice of self for the good of others. We serve as prophets by speaking the Word of God and teaching other about the faith. And we serve in a kingly manner by guiding others in the path of holiness, particularly those entrusted to our care as children, grandchildren, godchildren, nieces, nephews, etc. Every Christian must carry out these three aspects in some way, but the ordained priest is called to do so in a unique way, a way that is more intimately connected with the mission of Christ by virtue of the priest’s own consecration. He fulfills these obligations not simply as a member of the flock but as a shepherd.

The first reading shows us the prophetic office of the priest. The ancient prophets were understood to be direct mouthpieces of the Lord, which we see indicated by their frequent use of the phrase ‘Thus says the Lord’ and the explicit reference today of “whoever doesn’t listen to my words which he speaks…” [emphasis mine]. The priest, too, is called to be a mouthpiece of the Lord in his preaching, teaching, and guidance of the community, preaching not his own gospel but the Gospel of Jesus Christ. This is the reason that priests’ preaching has power and authority and that it should be followed: precisely because it is not his personal teaching but the teaching of Jesus. And whoa to me if I do not preach the Gospel, as St. Paul says in his letter, because if you caught that last line of the reading, you know that if a priest preaches his own word instead of the Word of God… he dies. Maybe not physically but certainly spiritually. If I ever start preaching something other than the teaching of Jesus and the Church, you should call the bishop ASAP and let him know he has a dead priest on his hands and you need a new shepherd!

The Gospel speaks to us clearly of the authority that Jesus had (and still has!); how He cast out demons and they listened, unlike anything they had ever seen before. Jesus’ power was something to behold and that same power was given to His Apostles, His priests. Often times when we hear about power we think about it in a heavy-handed sort of way, but the authority that Christ gives His priests is one of service. The power and authority of Christ was given to the Apostles to work ‘in persona Christi capitis’ (in the person of Christ the head) in order to bring healing to people. In the celebration of the sacraments, a priest always wears a stole - an ancient sign of the authority –  to show that he is acting in the person of Christ and that it is truly Christ Who works. In reconciliation it is Christ who absolves us. In baptism, it is Christ who cleanses us. In the anointing of the sick, it is Christ who anoints us. And when the priest prays the Eucharistic Prayer at Mass, it is Christ who says “This is My Body.” If you think about it, the priest doesn’t really get anything out of his actions of authority other than the ability to serve others and bring them into an encounter with the God of Creation.

Litany of Supplication for my ordination

The priestly piece comes in our second reading from the letter to the Corinthians. There it speaks of the unmarried man and woman being anxious only about the things of the Lord. A married man or woman is necessarily divided between their obligations to family and to the Lord. That’s not a bad thing at all; in fact, it’s the will of God! What parent would spend their day in prayer and neglect the needs of their family for food, medical care, or means for education? But this is the reason for the celibate vocation of the priest, as well as the religious brother or sister.  I’ve often had people express a desire for priests to be able to marry and for many good reasons and not with any ill intentions, but the religious and priest is called to be free of marriage in order to give everything to Christ. When the bishop calls and assigned me here, I didn’t have to worry about my wife’s job or kids’ schooling. I was able simply to pack up and come. When the bishops sends a man for further studies in Rome for a couple of years, he need not be concerned with providing for a family left behind. And in the midst of regular life as a priest, I need not be concerned with providing for a single family as a married man would. Instead, I am called simply to give everything that I have to Jesus Christ and to open my heart to whoever happens to be in front of me in the moment and permit them to walk through my heart and there to find their Lord. My mission and the mission of every priest is simply to be the living presence of the loving Lord Jesus in their own community. Admittedly we fail often in that, but the mission is still entrusted to us the same.

This last word is what brings me to the point of this homily: a plea for prayer. Please pray for me and my brother priests. We need your prayers and without them we will surely be lost. All through my time in seminary I struggled to respond to the call to priestly ministry. It seemed every few weeks my spiritual director had to re-convince me that I was indeed still called. I had a whole host of concerns, but the biggest was the fear of loving others. I was watching one of those home renovation shows on HGTV the other day and the new homeowner walked into a home with carpet right in the front entryway and she remarked “Why would they have carpet here? It’s just going to get dirty when we come in!” And those words about simple carpet could well have applied to my heart. There was a fear that if I let the whole world walk into my heart with no reservation and no limits that it would surely get a bit messy. Every one of us who has ever taken the risk of loving someone else knows that sometimes that risk bites us when the one we love hurts us. I was scared and, honestly, still am at times, to open myself up to that sort of risk. And yet the Lord kept calling me to walk forward and open wide my heart.  That is possible only with the help of prayers and I say the same for my brothers in the ministry. We are men of the Church. We are men for the Church. But we cannot be men without the Church. So I ask you to join me in a brief litany of saints to pray for priests throughout the world.

Good St. Joseph, pray for them.

St. Jean Vianney, pray for them.

St. Alphonsus Liguouri, pray for them.

St. Francis de Sales, pray for them.

St. Ann, pray for them.

St. Vincent de Paul, pray for them.

Mary, mother of priests, pray for them.