Excessive Mercy - Homily for April 7

Readings for Sunday, April 7 / 5th Sunday of Lent:  Isaiah 43:16-21  |  Psalm 126  |  Philippians 3:8-14  |  John 8:1-11

The Cost of Salvation - Homily for March 31

Readings for Sunday, March 31 / 4th Sunday of Lent:  Joshua 5:9-12  |  Psalm 34  |  2 Corinthians 5:17-21  |  Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Today we are reminded why Christ took on our flesh and what we must do to become inheritors of heaven.

Easter: The Good Shepherd - Homily for April 22

Readings for Sunday, April 22 / 4th Sunday of Easter: Acts 4:8-12  |  Psalm 118  |  1 John 3:1-2  |  John 10:11-18

Jesus Christ is the Good Shepherd who lays down His life for us. Are we willing to lay ours down to follow Him? 

Easter: The Sin and the Savior - Homily for April 8

Readings for Sunday, April 8 / Divine Mercy Sunday: Acts 4:32-35  |  Psalm 118  |  1 John 5:1-6  |  John 20:19-31

The key to salvation is accepting the message of Mercy: turn from sin and live the Life of Grace.

The Desert of the Soul - Homily for February 18

Readings for Sunday, February 18 / 1st Sunday of Lent: Genesis 9:8-15  |  Psalm 25  |  1 Peter 3:18-22  |  Mark 1:12-15

Jesus Christ is not afraid to come to the desert of our soul and pour His grace out in abundance to make of it a garden.

Easter: The Limits of Mercy - Homily for April 23

Readings for Sunday, April 23 / Divine Mercy Sunday: Acts 2:42-47  |  Psalm 118  |  1 Peter 1:3-9  |  John 20:19-31

This weekend we celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday. The readings tell us how the Early Church shared all things in common, giving without limits in the service of the larger community. Do we believe in mercy without limits? Even more importantly, are we willing to BE merciful without limits?

The full statement of the Louisiana Conference of Catholic Bishops on the Death Penalty can be found here.

Where's Your Coffin?

Readings for Sunday, June 5/ 10th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
1 Kings 17:17-24
Psalm 30
Galatians 1:11-19
Luke 7:11-17

It’s nice to be back in green! I don’t know about you, but one of the things I enjoy about the liturgical year is that each season goes on just long enough to make me look forward to the next one. And so it is with joy that I vest today in the vibrant green of ordinary time. We pick up, and will continue until November, reading the Gospel of St. Luke. He is the only Gentile (non-Jewish) writer of the four Gospels and so he focuses often on the outreach of Jesus to those who were on the periphery of society, the outcasts, and the most vulnerable. This would have included the Gentile peoples, but also included women in general, widows, orphans, and those with disease or major affliction. So it is appropriate that we pick up here this weekend with the story of Jesus raising up the son of a widow. And it is appropriate, too, that it is prefaced with the story of Elijah.

As you may recall, the Jewish people was a faith but also an ethnic group – their faith was the nationality – and their oral culture was steeped in the telling of their stories. The people were so well-versed in their history that, despite the lack of books, they knew the major people of their culture and the stories that accompanied them. The Church gives us the reading for Elijah to help us prepare ourselves for the encounter with Jesus. Elijah, we hear, goes to stay at the home of a widow in Zarephath. The prophets were not desirable folks to be around because their presence often was accompanied by great works but also terrible trials. The prophets very frequently bore bad news to the Israelites since the people often fell away from the Law of God, and this was not well received. It is with this stigma that Elijah, the greatest of the prophets, comes into the scene. He stays at the widow’s home and right on cue, the terrible things begin to surround him in the form of the sickness and death of the son of the widow. She immediately arrives at the conclusion that it is because Elijah has come that her son has died and tells him such rather bluntly. In response Elijah takes her son, goes up to the room where he stayed, prayed three times as he extended himself over the boy in prayer, invoking the Lord to bring the boy back to life. In response to his prayer, the boy is revived and he is brought back to his mother and she exclaims joyfully that Elijah is truly a man of God, that rather than a curse, he has brought great blessing.

With this as our backdrop, we return to the story of the Lord. We see Him into the city of Nain with a large group following, when He comes across a funeral procession. A funeral procession was something of great importance in that time, with many people joining in the journey and even professional ‘wailers’ who would come to lament and cry out in sorrow on behalf of the deceased and their family. Unlike the majority of such scenarios, when a person from the crowd approaches Him with some plea for help or a disciple makes someone’s need known to Him, here the Lord sees the woman in great sorrow and His heart is pierced with pity for her. He knows that she is a widow and that this is her only son. She would now be completely vulnerable and unable to care for herself, requiring others to provide for her for the rest of her days. It would have been kind of the Lord to go up to her and to assure her of the salvation of her son, or to call to mind the life of the world to come, or to give some charitable donation to her from his pocket. And yet He doesn’t. He tells her “Do not weep” and proceeds to the coffin, where He touches it and says to the young man, “I tell you, arise!” The boy rises and begins to speak and the Lord gives him back to his mother. Instead of a kind word or some assurance of faith, He raises the son from the dead! The people respond with two different acclamations. The first recalls the story of Elijah, as the crowd says “A great prophet has arisen in our midst.” They acknowledge the similarity between the two occasions and connect the dots that Jesus is a great prophet, one who speaks the word of God. But the difference between the two is in the second response: “God has visited his people.” Elijah had to call out to the Lord to ask for the boy to be raised but Jesus simply commands it. Elijah is a man of God, but Jesus is God himself – the God who has visited his people. The people see it and are in awe.

The occasion is one in which the Lord shows mercy to a widow as well as reveals Himself as God and man. He showed the people that God was with them, walking among them. Furthermore, He walked up and touched the coffin, which was something that was not to be done. To touch the dead was to be rendered ritually unclean and thus unable to enter the Temple and worship, as well as unable to touch others, lest they too become unclean. And yet He reaches out to that thing which ought not to be touched and with his presence He brings the boy back to life. And He wants to do the same to us.

So the question is: where is your coffin? Where is that place in your life that Jesus ‘shouldn’t touch’, that place where Jesus ought not to go because He’s not supposed to. A place of pain, shame or fear, that thing which we wish would be revived in us but that we don’t even normally think to bring before the Lord Jesus. That’s the place the Lord wants to come to touch when we come to Mass. He does just as He did in the Gospel and comes to us on the altar and then descends to us without being called upon in order to touch us, to raise us to life. So ask for the grace to know where it is that you need the Lord’s touch today, where we need new life, new hope. And bring it before Him today, that we too might be able to rejoice and say that truly “God has visited his people.”

1931

Readings for Sunday, April 12/ Divine Mercy Sunday:

Acts 4:32-35

Psalm 118

1 John 5:1-6

John 20:19-31

In 1931, entertainers: James Dean and Leonard Nemoy were born. So too were Raul Castor, Mickey Mantle, and Willie Mays. The Star-Spangled Banner was adopted as the National Anthem, Alka Seltzer was introduced and began to be distributed. Spain’s monarchy was overthrown and a republic put in place. Austria’s largest bank failed, signaling the financial collapse of central Europe during the Great Depression. The 1^st cartoon of Donald Duck was show and rear-projected movies began to be shown. The Scottsboro Case in Alabama exposed the injustices present in the American legal system and Jane Addams won the Nobel Peace Prize, the first American woman to do so. Also that year, Al Capone was indicted on 5000 counts of perjury and prohibition. 5000; that’s just impressive.

In the midst of those and many other events in 1931 there is one that has probably an even greater effect upon the world as we know it today, though many are unaware of the fact. That event took place on February 22 in Poland, when a simple religious sister, Sr. Faustina, was spending her regular time before the Blessed Sacrament in the convent chapel. Though the time in prayer was a well-established part of her routine, this day was unique in that during her time of prayer the Lord Jesus appeared to her in a vision. He stood before her with a hand raised in blessing, the other pointing to His heart, which was not hidden but plainly visible. From his heart shown forth two rays, one red and one white. Seeing this vision, the Lord Jesus then spoke to Sr. Faustina, saying: “Paint an image according to the model you see, with the motto below: Jesus I trust in You. I desire that this image be venerated, first in your chapel, and then throughout the world. I promise that the soul that venerates this image will not perish.”

That image, as you may recognize, hangs prominently in our church – as it does in many churches these days – a sign that the desire of the Lord Jesus has been fulfilled to some extent. The image that began in the little chapel has made itself known in churches all across the world, but this is not the main point. The message of Jesus to Sr. Faustina was not simply for people to come honor an image, but ultimately to receive what the image shows: Divine Mercy. The two rays, Jesus later explained, symbolized the complete washing away of sin (white ray) and the life of Christ that comes to live in us (red ray). The simple invitation that Jesus desired was that Sr. Faustina spread the good news of the immensity of the Mercy of God and the desire of God to pour it out upon us.

In a later vision, as they lasted in all for 7 years, Jesus would also express a desire for a feast of Mercy. He told her: “I desire that the Feast of Mercy be a refuge and a shelter for all souls, especially poor sinners. On that day, the very depths of My tender mercy will be opened. I will pour out an entire ocean of graces upon those souls who approach the Fount of My Mercy. The soul that goes to Confession and receives Holy Communion will obtain complete forgiveness of sins and a remission of all punishment. (...) Let no soul fear to approach Me, even though its sins be as scarlet. (...) Humanity will not enjoy peace until it turns to the Fount of My Mercy.”

Humanity will not enjoy peace until it turns to the Fount of My Mercy. In the Gospel we just heard, the Lord shows us where the Fount of Mercy is: His glorious wounds. When He appears to the Apostles they are filled with fear, anxiety, and surely many other things in their hearts. And coming to them, He shows them His hands and feet and says, “Peace be with you.” The wounds themselves bring peace because they are the sure signs that Christ, who had been crucified, has been raised up. They are signs to the Apostles that the most terrible thing that life brings at us is trampled underfoot by their Lord. They need not worry about sin or death, but simply trust in the Lord. Thomas misses this first appearance and, upon seeing and touching the wounds of Jesus, is also granted the gift of peace and the certainty of knowing Christ’s victory. In witnessing the wounds of Christ, the disciples are then sent out to proclaim the Good News, they go out to proclaim the Mercy of God for humanity, calling all to seek forgiveness of sins and be baptized in Christ Jesus. They are even given the gift of forgiving sins themselves when the Lord breathed upon them the gift of the Spirit. Peace begins with the encounter with the Resurrected Lord, but then it must necessarily go out to others, that they too might experience peace.

So we stand here on this Divine Mercy Sunday, the feast desired by the Lord, and hear the invitation to come seek peace in Him. Come to confession. Come experience the peace that the wounds of Jesus won for us. And receiving that peace, show it to others.

Here, I think, is an important point. Mercy doesn’t just come to me and stop. It requires that I show it to others. Two instances this week really gave me pause about how I do that. We all know that the Boston Marathon Bomber was found guilty on all 30 charges this past week. What struck me was looking at facebook later only to find that many people who are ‘strong, traditional Catholics’ were calling for his death, posting how he needs to get what’s coming to him, and all sorts of mean-spirited reactions. And the first thought in my mind was ‘What about mercy?’ In no way am I defending his actions, but what in us causes the occasional joy of seeing someone else suffer? Why not pray for conversion of heart and a powerful witness to the Gospel, much like St. Paul and many others? Another thing, much more practical and of lesser importance, was as I was walking into the market. I overheard someone saying ‘why are you putting the buggy behind that person’s car?’ to which the other person said, ‘It’s not my car. I’m not gonna hit it.’ This little thing also spoke to me of the need to show mercy to others, as I had bad thoughts come to mind myself, but also the question of how are we showing mercy and love to others? How are we manifesting God’s concern for us by showing concern for others? They are necessarily connected, as Jesus reminds us in the scriptures.

To these events we can also add the events last night in Rome, as Pope Francis officially announced a Jubilee Year of Mercy for the Church starting in December on the feast of the Immaculate Conception. Mercy, he says, is what the world needs most right now and we must spend a special time to focus upon it. Let’s not wait until December, though. Let it begin today in our hearts as we come to honor this feast of Divine Mercy. Let us turn to the Lord and find peace.

Jesus, I Trust In You.

Praying for Diarrhea

Readings for Sunday, November 2/ All Souls' Day:
Wisdom 3:1-9
Psalm 23:1-6
Romans 5:5-11
John 6:37-40

When I arrived back in July I began writing in the bulletin a little section called “Fun Facts with Fr. Brent.” I’m not sure how fun you think they are, but I enjoy writing them and I hope you enjoy reading them. This Thursday we printed the bulletins with this week’s ‘fun fact’ about indulgences and I used an example to try to illustrate my point: a child tossing a ball in the yard, when it accidentally breaks through a window. The point was made to show that forgiveness can take place, but that reparation must be made – the window must be fixed. I didn’t realize how strongly that imagery would strike me until Friday morning at around 1030, when Retta (our secretary) called me and said “Father, someone broke into [our mission chapel] St. Vincent’s.”

I got in the car and rode to up the chapel to find: a broken window. It turns out that someone, or multiple someones, threw something through the back window and helped themselves to the paschal candle stand, monstrance, some Mass vessels, and the candle money. After moving all of that they apparently were thirsty so they took the case of altar wine and – for no good reason – kicked the side door open to leave. The thing that hurt me the most, though, was the fact that when they threw the object through the back glass to get in, it also broke through our beautiful stained glass of Mother of Perpetual Help. In the several hours that I was here with the deputy, detective, and those helping to get things back in order, I often sat on the front pew staring at the window reflecting on my own words: we can forgive but something must be done – a window must be fixed.

I’m going to be honest and say that it’s hard to forgive. I’m trying to forgive them; I hope to be able to completely and perfectly and wish that I was holy enough to be able to do so right now. But it hurts. In the midst of that reflection I remembered a story of a monastery across the Atlantic somewhere that had a similar situation happen to them. Their church was broken into, vandalized, and robbed. Their response was what you would expect from monks: prayer. But what made the headlines was what they prayed for. They prayed that the persons responsible would have such a severe case of diarrhea that they would repent of their sin, bring everything back, and live as witnesses of the power of God. Now, I didn’t include that petition in our Prayers of the Faithful this week, but if I get a consensus from the community we might add it in the weeks to come.

In the midst of all of that commotion I was reflecting on just how much our world has lost a sense of sin and its consequences. The deputy was in shock that someone would have the guts to rob a church; I was too. And yet, that’s what our world is going to. We – all of us – can easily fall into thinking ‘Oh, that’s not a sin’ or ‘it doesn’t hurt anyone’ or ‘it’s not that bad’ or ‘God is good and forgiving’. In the midst of all of these and others such thoughts we forget the fact that sin has consequences. Just like actions in the world has legal repercussions, so too in the life of faith. But the thing is that sin doesn’t just break windows, which are easily fixed. Sin breaks relationships that are very difficult to rebuild. Almost every day I encounter people with broken relationships: siblings who no longer speak to each other, spouses sleeping in separate rooms, different friends who you know not to invite to the same gathering because it would be like lighting a match in a room full of gas fumes. Broken relationships are very difficult to heal and our relationship with the Lord isn’t all that different. Unlike our earthly relatoniships, God is always ready to take us back and forgive us infinitely. We can go 1001 times to the confessional and 1001 times God will speak those blessed words “I absolve you from your sins…” God is faithful to us and will always forgive, but there is still a ‘window’ that needs to be fixed, a relationship that needs healing. We have to show God that we want that relationship to be built up and we do it by praying more, by doing acts of charity, by offering little mortifications or sufferings to let God know that we mean what we say when we say ‘I’m sorry.’

The unfortunate part is that we don’t usually get just how destructive our sins are to our relationship with God. I’m quite sure the burglar didn’t intend to break the stained glass window when they broke through the back window of the Church, and yet they did and now we have to pay a serious price to fix it. And though we might not intend to do such damage in our relationship with God, sometimes we break something more serious than we realize in the moment and we have some extra work to do to heal the relationship. That’s the reason I hope the Lord lets me live a good long while. I’m only 30 years old but it’s impressive how much I can mess things up; I seriously think I should get a trophy sometimes for the accomplishments I’ve made in damaging my relationship with God. That’s why I pray regularly that the Lord would give me another 30 years to try to make up for what I’ve done, to help me come into a right relationship with Him again. But you know what – that might now happen. And here is where God shows us once more the infinite love and mercy that lies within Him.

Angels 'quenching the flames of purification' from prayers of the Mass

None of us will die perfect at the end of our life. I doubt any of us will be able to walk up to the pearly gates and say “Yep, I’ve got no sins and nothing to make up for from past faults.” We all will pass with a bit more healing needing to take place in our hearts. But God in His mercy provides a process for that: purgatory. We don’t often hear about purgatory these days and when we do it’s not always accepted quickly, but in truth it is a gift from God that we are undeserving to receive. It would be easy for God to sit at the seat of judgment and condemn every person that wasn’t absolutely perfect and ready for eternal perfect union with the Blessed Trinity. It would be easy to say “Well, you had your chance, sorry” and turn us away. But He doesn’t. Rather, He looks into our heart and judges us. If we are judged ‘worthy’ to enter Heaven eventually, then our soul is purged of those things that had separated us from God. Like Wisdom spoke in our first reading: the souls of the just are as gold purified in a furnace. Regardless of the description given to it, it is a place where our souls are prepared, our relationship toward the Father healed and perfect. When it is ready to behold God’s face, then it will take place and eternity will be our final stop.

Sin has consequences in our relationship with God, purgatory is the place where that relationship is healed, and it is reasonable to believe that some of our loved ones might still be there. And so we pray. That’s why we’re here today to celebrate All Souls’ Day – it is a day to come and pray for those who have died and aren’t yet in heaven, that the Lord would bring them there. Just as we can pray for one another, we can pray for them and God moves. Think about it, by the power of the prayer of us gathered here in this place, by the end of Mass there might well be in heaven souls who before we started Mass were in purgatory! Think about it! That’s why we’re here - to pray. So I encourage you not to miss the opportunity. Pray for all faithful souls in general, but pray for those you know by name as well. As we take the collection and bring up the offertory, pray for them to the Lord: those who have died this past year, those written in our book of remembrance, those resting in our cemetery and mausoleum, those resting elsewhere. Pray for them to receive the gift of glory today, knowing that they are praying for us to one day receive the same.

And Justice For All

Things have been pretty crazy these past couple of weeks, so my homily last weekend didn't even get posted and this one is coming late on Monday evening in a very rough form. Hopefully soon I can get back to my regular routine of posting. Until then, prayers are appreciated and know of mine for you.

Readings for Sunday, September 28/ 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time:

Ezekiel 18:25-28
Psalm 25:4-5, 8-10, 14
Philippians 21-11
Matthew 21:28-32

You may remember from my homily a couple of months back that I have a number of siblings, including my step-brother, who is three years old than myself. When we were younger, as is often the case, my big brother would use his size and authority to push me around a bit. Well, one day apparently I had had enough and came out of nowhere with a right hook and caught him clean in the face. I don’t remember this myself, but my parents remind me that ever since then the playing field changed and my brother didn’t mess with me so much afterward. Stories that like are ones that easily get into our hearts and we experience a secret joy in our hearts because ‘justice was served’. It’s not uncommon to experience the same thing when a criminal has committed some serious crime and are found guilty and sentenced to time in prison. There, too, a sense of justice being served arises in our hearts. There’s something about someone getting what they deserve in that sense that feels good because we know the bad guys didn’t get away. That same warm fuzzy feeling quickly leaves, though, when we understand that God is just too and that we will also get what we deserve.

This idea of God exercising justice and judgment is not something we hear often because this age tends to highlight the mercy of God, and rightly so for the most part. We need to hear that message of Mercy, how there is nothing that God cannot forgive is we but humble ourselves and go to Him in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. But, if you think about it, God’s justice and His mercy are two sides of the same coin. Justice is nothing other than giving one what is their due. So, if one seeks always to follow the ways of the Lord, the Lord will show them mercy and in His justice will give them their desire, welcoming them to Heaven. Likewise, if one spends their life living apart from God on purpose, God wouldn’t force Heaven upon them, but instead shows mercy and out of justice permits them to go to Hell because it’s the place they’ve chosen.

So we see that the mercy of God and justice of God work together in all things. So while we sing “Remember Your mercies, O Lord” for our responsorial psalm, the Lord could just as easily sing “Remember My justice, O people” to us. This doesn’t mean that God is some vengeful God ready to smite us or eagerly take down names for sins committed. But He does expect things of us.

This expectation is what we get a glimpse of in the reading from Ezekiel. The people have turned from the Lord in their sin once again and the Lord come to say “You think My ways are unfair? Is it not your ways that are unfair?!” The people were more or less saying that the way of God was too tough, it was too much to expect or ask of people. “It’s not fair!” was their motto and they let it ring loudly. And we can easily do the same. How often in our own lives do we think, say, or hear, “You mean God expects me to go to Mass EVERY weekend!? Doesn’t He know how busy I am?” or “You mean God expects me to wait until marriage to have sex? Doesn’t He understand I can’t just bottle up my desires?” or “You mean God expects me to forgive them? Doesn’t He know what they’ve done to me?” or “You mean God expects me not to curse or get upset when Les Miles makes another bonehead call in the game this weekend or next?” And on and on. There are so many things that are not fair to us, but the simple reality is that God has expectations of us and if we fail to live up to them, then we have no one to blame but ourselves for what comes to us out of justice.

Since none of us wants to experience the fires of Hell or offend the Lord so intensely, we necessarily have to ask the question: how can we show justice to God? How can we give God what is rightly His due? The answer is shown to us by St. Paul in the letter to the Philippians and the words of the ancient Christ Hymn: be humble. St. Augustine once said that there is only one rule to living the Christian life: “Love God, then do what you will.” This doesn’t mean that we can love God and do whatever we want. He is saying that if we love God, if we really place God first, then we can do whatever we want because our heart wouldn’t desire anything that is sinful because God would be of first priority.

In the Garden of Eden, Adam & Eve looked at the fruit in the garden and thought they would be able to make themselves like God by eating it. They didn’t trust and so they sought to make things happen for themselves. And what is the pattern that we learned a couple of weeks ago on the Exaltation of the Cross? Sin brings suffering and death. We hear it in Ezekiel today again; sin, suffering, death. Adam and Eve felt it first, but it continues in our hearts, but the Lord Jesus has given us the remedy of repentance, blessing, and life. And it takes only humility: recognizing that we are dust and to dust we shall return, that we are able to do nothing for ourselves without God’s help, but that, at the same time, if we place ourselves under God’s care we are heirs to the Kingdom of Heaven with the Son of God Himself welcoming us. Humility changes everything. If we remain in our pride, we will choose for ourselves and God in His mercy will give us what we deserve. But if we place ourselves under His protection, He will build us up, and lead us to the heavenly home.

As we approach the sacred altar today, may we be aware that the Eucharist we receive is not changed by us, but instead changes us into something greater. It changes us, little by little, in sons and daughters of God who resemble Jesus our brother. May the Lord Jesus fill us with the gift of humility today, that we might rejoice in the justice of God on the last day that welcomes us home.

The Unnamable Weight

Pilgrims walking the Camino

Readings for Sunday, August 24/ 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Isaiah 2219-23
Psalm 138:1-3, 6, 8
Romans 11:33-36
Matthew 16:13-20

Friday night I went with a friend to grab a cup of coffee and hear about her adventures walking the Camino, the ancient pilgrimage trek that runs several hundred miles from lower France through Spain and ends at Santiago de Compostela, where the tomb of the Apostle James is found. My friend told me how the daily walk was about 15-20 miles and that on average it took 35 days to walk the whole thing, so that is quite a trip! She told me that one of the first lessons they learned was about buying things. Everywhere that they stopped there were opportunities to pick up little knickknacks to remember the pilgrimage or to bring for others, but that they didn’t buy them because the one thing that was most important in purchasing stuff was the question ‘How much does it weigh?’. They knew that every item bought had to be carried along the road for 10-20 miles that day. And 20 miles the day after that. And 20 miles the day after that. And all of that stuff would be quite heavy by the end of the trip.

It struck me because we are all aware of physical weight that becomes a burden on our bodies, but it is easy to be oblivious to the spiritual weight of sin that weighs on our hearts. I can’t tell you how many times I have people come to me looking for help because there is just a weight on their spirit that they can’t explain and so often it is because they haven’t been to confession in a while; they know the weight but can’t pinpoint the problem. And yet we do it, for weeks, months, years, we pile up the sins of our lives on our heart and walk around bound in sin when Christ wants us to know freedom. That’s the message of the scriptures today.

When we hear the story of the keys to the Kingdom, we can easily think it’s Jesus just making an analogy again to try to make people understand, but it was actually something much deeper. The keeper of the keys was actually an important person in the Jewish faith and we hear their story in the first reading today. The king was, of course, the head of the people of God, but the one who held the office of keeping the keys was basically second in command. When the king was absent, that man could make decisions and they would carry the authority of the king himself. And he had an actual set of keys because he was the one to open and close the Temple Gates. This is a significant thing because to be welcomed into the Temple meant you could meet your God, you could have a relationship with God, and you could worship your God. To be unable to enter the Temple meant you had no relationship with God, you were an outcast. When we hear of Jesus healing lepers, this was miraculous because they were healed of a physical infirmity, but even more importantly, they were able once again to enter into the Temple to worship – they could get to know their God! This key-holder was a man noticeable in the crowd: he had a special robe and sash of authority.

(Holding up my stole and pointing to my vestments) Can you think of any other person that also wear a specific robe and has a special sash indicating authority?! Y’all, Jesus didn’t just make things up out of the blue! When He set out to build His Church on the Rock of Peter and his confession, He pulled from the Jewish heritage that was His own and which was understandable to His followers. Basically it’s like this: I want you all to imagine a large box-type object that’s about 7 feet wide and 15 feet long. It has two doors on each of the long sides, it has glass on the top half of the object to see around the sides, it has four large rubber circles connected to it that hold it up off the ground, and if you sit by the front left door there’s a circular thing to hold onto that moves the front rubber things. What am I describing? A car! You all knew that though and that’s exactly what Jesus is doing here. He’s saying ‘Imagine a person with keys, a special robe & sash, a King’s authority, etc.’ and everyone there would have known exactly who He was talking about – they would have known that’s the guy that gets them into the Temple! And if Jesus is describing that guy but talking about Heaven, this key holder is one you really, really want to get to know! And yet, there are many reasons we don’t.

My sins aren’t that bad, so I don’t need to go to confession. I can go straight to Jesus. What is Father going to think or say…and will he remember next time he sees me? I haven’t been to confession is 5, 10, 20+ years; I don’t think I even remember the words anymore. My sins are so bad that there’s no way that God would forgive that.

The truth is that there is only one thing that can separate us from the love of God and the freedom that comes from receiving forgiveness and that is ourselves. You have probably figured out by now that I love celebrating Mass. But, even more, I love being able to say to a repentant sinner ‘I absolve you from your sins’ and know that they walk away freed. It’s not that I like to hear sins or anything foolish as that. It’s that there have been countless times in my own life where I was the one standing outside the gates and was filled with gratitude to be received back into God’s good grace by one who had the keys to forgive my sin and unlock the path to heaven. I know that joy and I want every one of you and every person in the world to know that freedom, that joy, that weightlessness that comes from those blessed words of forgiveness.

So today I suggest to you a spiritual routine that I encourage everyone to take up as a starting place and it is this: make some time for real prayer at least once per day, receive Holy Communion at least once a week, and celebrate the Sacrament of Reconciliation at least once a month. That is the basic starting point for a life truly alive in Christ Jesus. And if you think that’s a bit much, Padre Pio’s routine for people who were serious was to make time twice a day for serious prayer, receive Holy Communion daily, celebrate reconciliation weekly, and to make time for spiritual reading each day. If we want to begin walking the path to heaven, we need Confession. And if we want to become saints, people whose lights shine so brightly that others see God in us, go to Confession even more often.

It’s not about feeling bad about ourselves so much as it is recognizing and receiving the healing of our hearts in the many places that are still wounded from past sins. Come to Confession. If you can’t make a scheduled time please call me and I will work something out with you. There is nothing I want more than your freedom from sin and your journey to heaven to continue on. Let us all ask this grace today: to become aware of our sins, to repent for them, and to celebrate frequently that sacrament that opens to us time and again the gates of Heaven.

Dogs, God, and Us

Readings for Sunday, August 3/ 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Isaiah 55:1-3
Psalm 145:8-9, 15-18
Romans 8:35, 37-39
Matthew 14:13-21

How much do we trust Jesus Christ?

All of the readings this weekend highlight the fact that the Lord will provide for all of our needs, and yet we are faced with the reality spoken of through the prophet Isaiah, that we still spend our wages on that which fails to satisfy rather than turn to the Lord who will fill us with wine and milk and give us heavenly bread.

All of us have needs. All of us need food, drink, and air simply to survive. We need education and healthcare to survive and thrive in this world. We need intimacy with others, that closeness with others that permits us to know and be known, love and be loved. We all have needs and it is God Himself who wants to provide for them, but the catch is that we have to be willing to be fed.

Some of you may have noticed the black dog that wanders around the parking lot from time to time. He sits out in the yard across from the church and sometimes comes over and walks around, car to car, person to person looking for some food and attention. The funny thing is that I live here and see him all the time and I want to give him food and attention and he won’t come to me because he doesn’t trust me yet. I want to provide for him but he won’t let me yet. And we’re much the same with the Lord.

He wants to provide for our every need, but we’re hesitant to come near to Him because we’re afraid. In the past we’ve all gotten burned from trusting too much in people, and we are now hesitant to place our trust in the Father who made us - what happens when the day comes that we pray our hardest and try our best to be holy people and things don’t work out the way we want them to? What happens on the day that we feel like God, who is supposed to provide for our needs, isn’t listening? Those days come for all of us because God doesn’t always give us the things we want and He doesn’t always give us the things we need when we want them. He gives us our needs in due season, as Psalm 145 reminded us.

The temptation we all face is trusting not so much in Christ, but in ourselves. The scriptures tell me that if I trust in Jesus I will be richly provided for and will have more than I could have asked. But the thing is that in our wounded, mistrustful humanity, we often settle for a lower payout in exchange for having some control over the situation. We gladly take a worse situation just so that we don’t have to risk our heavenly Father letting us down. But if we never take the risk, we never get the payoff. If we never trust in Jesus in this life, how can we expect to inherit the gifts He has waiting for us in the next?

Y’all, God created us because He loves us. You parents and grandparents know what that love feels like; you know the lengths you would go and often have gone just to take care of your kids. And God’s love is even greater than that. He will provide for our needs, absolutely. But if we trust in Him, He’ll sometimes even provide for our wants, just like earthly parents do. All my life I have wanted to own one of those big orange traffic cones. I can’t explain why; I just wanted one. And guess what I had sitting in the patio of the rectory here at St. Ann’s when I arrived – a big orange traffic cone. It’s crazy, but you know what, I think God makes stuff like that happen sometimes. He loves us so much but He is just patiently waiting for us to realize the extent of that love for ourselves and come to Him to be fed with the grace in store for us, to receive our needs in this life, and to rejoice in the riches of the life to come. He is infinitely trustworthy because He makes no promise He has not kept; the question is how much do we trust Him?

Welcome Home.

Welcome Home!

Readings for Sunday, July 20/ 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Wisdom 12:13, 16-19
Psalm 86:5-6, 9-10, 15-16
Romans 8:26-27
Matthew 13:24-43

As I shared with you a couple of weeks ago, I was born in Cincinnati, Ohio and just a few days later made the long trek down to Denham Springs. I have seen that as rather providential, because I have always loved to travel. The joy of seeing new places, meeting new people, experiencing new adventures, and creating new stories are all wonderful things to do, but for me the best part is being able to come back and have that renewed appreciate for being home. As I was praying with the readings this weekend I was struck by that reality and the fact that home has so many levels which we can understand. For instance, if we travel overseas the customs agents will often say “welcome home” when returning to the United States; I can be in New York City, but I’m still home. If we just go on a road trip to another state, there’s that big blue “Welcome to Louisiana” sign to welcome you back to Louisiana – welcome home. Though there is no clear marker, when I start to get near the Baton Rouge area there is a sense of being home. And as of July 1, my final destination for ‘home’ is the rectory here at St. Ann’s.

That image came to mind because the Lord gives us today a series of parables on the kingdom of Heaven describing where it can be found. And then at the end of the passage He speaks of the kingdom in the future sense, as also being something in the future. There is a sort almost-but-not-yet reality; theologically we describe it as ‘liminality’.

The ultimate reality of the kingdom of heaven – the St. Ann’s rectory, if you will – is the experience of Heaven itself. It is the encounter with God that never ends and in which He has absolute reign and authority, such that there is no longer sin or death, sorrow or despair, doubt or fear. Those things will be completely conquered in the end and there will be simply peace, love, joy, and all of those things that we long for in this life but cannot attain in their fullness. Although we cannot attain these things in their fullness yet, it does not mean that we can’t experience a taste of them in this life. This is what Christ speaks to us about in the parables – that reality that is already among us and in our midst where the kingdom of heaven is present in a seminal form. He uses parables to help us to see where it can be found, its characteristics, if you will. And if we look at them with the eyes of faith, we can see that the kingdom of heaven is the Body of Christ on Earth – the Catholic Church.

The first clue is that the kingdom of heaven is like a field with good and bad seed. The Lord instituted the Church knowing that its members would not always be perfect, but that ‘the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.’ In the field that is the Church, there are many, many saintly people – the good wheat sown by God – but there is also that small group of people who are not godly people but have simply acted as such for some purpose. It shouldn’t surprise us to find that those who harm the Church the most these days are Catholics themselves. After all, it was Judas, one of the Twelve closest to Jesus who was the betrayer. And yet, the Lord was greater than that and the eleven continued to bear much good fruit in the salvation of souls and preaching of Gospel message. The Church is perfect in herself, but her members are sometimes flawed as individuals.

The second clue is that a small mustard seed shall become a large bush. Here, too, we can see how the Church began as a small see with the Apostles and disciples of the Lord and yet has grown today to include billions of people today and many more throughout history. The words of Jesus about ‘every bird of the air’ finding a place is symbolic of the fact that the Church reaches to the ends of the Earth and has sought to evangelize every people that she has encountered, welcoming them to find shelter in her.

Lastly, the Church is that insignificant amount of leaven added to leaven three whole measures of wheat flour. The Church has literally changed the course of the world; things would be drastically different were it not for the presence of the Body of Christ all throughout the world. This is no exaggeration, but a statement of truth and it fulfills that third characteristic expressed by the Lord.

The kingdom of heaven is indeed a place in the future and it is a place all around us and in which we find ourselves making a home as the other birds of the sky have done. But there is yet a third aspect to consider: that the kingdom of heaven is within you and me as individuals. We are each a sort of microcosm of the larger Body of Christ and the aspects evident in the whole are also detectable in ourselves. The weeds alongside the good wheat remind us that we are fundamentally good people, but that we have flaws, we sin. The good news is that we don’t have to wait until the end of the age to be separated by the angels, but rather we can go to that confessional in the back of the church and allow the Lord to forgive us our sins and to pluck up the weeds now so that we can become today the perfect field God desires us to be in Heaven. Too, our faith begins small but grows exponentially in size. Most of us were baptized as infants, so we were not even aware of the seed of faith that was planted in our hearts with those blessed words “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” And where are we today? Large bushes giving much fruit as we live our lives, grow in our understanding of the faith, and encounter the Lord God daily. And lastly, we are that leaven that changes everything. The other day I went to go visit one of our parishioners and in the course of our conversation she turned to me and said, “Father, when you can kiss your 90^th grandchild on the head, things aren’t that bad.” It hit me because her simple yes to the Lord in her vocation as a wife and mother has brought into existence 100 other people who wouldn’t be here otherwise. We can say the same of each of our families, but the reality is that we can say in the life of faith too. If we let ourselves be used by the Lord, the world around us will also catch fire with the faith and others will have life in the Spirit because of us.

Now, all of this is fine and good, but the question is how to do this? How do we build up the courage to let the Lord pull out the weeds? To persevere in nourishing our faith? To say yes daily to being an instrument in God’s hands? At the sake of being overly-simplistic, I say the Eucharist.

The Eucharist is the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ; the flesh of God Himself! Come to Mass each week and enter into the mystery that we celebrate. If you can, come to daily Mass, even if it’s only once a week. It changes us. He changes. The other day I stopped at Jack in the Box and got my usual cheeseburger combo with fries and a coke. That’s fine to do once in a while, but if I did that every day you’d soon recognize that I’ve been eating pretty well lately, right? The same with our spirits! If we fail to give our spirit the food that it needs, it will be completely unhealthy and will be starved for something wholesome. If, on the other hand, we eat of the Eucharist that can heal every ill and convert our hearts, we will be strong in spirit. Come to Mass, come to Adoration, come spend time in the church with the Lord Jesus! The Scriptures tell us that it is the Spirit who comes to aid us in our weakness and we get that Spirit every time we receive Holy Communion. Let us not be afraid of our weakness in this life, but rejoice in it and bring it to Jesus, because when we are weak, Jesus is our strength.