The Joy of Imperfection

Readings for Sunday, December 27/ Holy Family Sunday:
1 Samuel 1:20-22, 24-28
Psalm 128
1 John 3:1-2, 21-24
Luke 2:41-52

Merry Christmas! Here I make my annual encouragement to keep those Christmas decorations up as we have only just begun the Christmas season. We have another two weeks of reflecting on the profound implications of the Incarnation of the Son of God. Today Mother Church celebrates the feast of Holy Family and invites us to reflection upon the mystery that the Son not only took on our humanity in flesh and blood, but that He even grew up in the midst of a family to be like us in all things but sin.

The Gospel we just heard about the finding of the Lord at the Temple is one of those that can be something of a sigh of relief for us all, and particularly for parents. We know that the Holy Family – the incarnate Son of God, the sinless ever Virgin Mary, and the pure and holy St. Joseph – is a model for families to look to and imitate, but I’ve heard from several people that they struggle with that model because it seems, well…perfect. The passage we just heard helps us to realize that while Jesus, Mary, & Joseph were sinless, that doesn’t mean that they were perfect. Sinless, but not perfect. I’m sure there were many nights when little baby Jesus didn’t sleep straight through the night (especially with that little drummer boy parumpapumpuming outside the door) and Mary and Joseph struggled to tend to His needs. I’m sure there were times when they were at their wits end trying to raise their son and discern what was best for Him. I bet that Mary and Joseph on at least a few occasions had little disagreements themselves that might have strained things a little bit. These and more remind us that thought they were sinless, they weren’t perfect.  

On Friday I was taking part in the annual tradition that my family often observes on Christmas Day of watching the movie A Christmas Story, the story of little Ralphie and his own experience of imperfect family life. As I sat there watching it I began to tie that experience with the story of the Holy Family and three things came to my mind and heart.

The first thing that struck me was ‘The Scott Farkus Incident’ when Ralphie beats up the bully that had been chasing he and his friends around the whole movie. As he was on top of the boy punching him relentlessly, a string of obscenities came out of his mouth that he didn’t foresee, intend, or have any ability to stop. The interesting thing about that is that it was exactly what his father would do at various points throughout the movie – sputtering and muttering a string of (more growls than actual words) obscenities. His father was an example that he followed to the ‘t’, although the example wasn’t really a good one. In contrast we have the Holy Family in the Gospel going up to offer the festival sacrifice in Jerusalem. They fact is that they, too, were setting an example. It was Jesus custom that only the father of the family had to go to Jerusalem to offer the sacrifice on behalf of the family, but St. Luke tells us that they all three were going up and that it was their normal custom to do so. Mary and Joseph were not only fulfilling obligations but were going above and beyond them, travelling together to celebrate their faith and to honor the Lord God. They were setting the example quite clearly for Jesus that ‘this is our faith and we are proud to profess it’ (as our baptismal rites remark).  They set the example and we can be sure that the child Jesus had learned the implications of it over the years.

The second things that struck me about the movie was when Ralphie went to help his dad change the car tire. What caught my ear was his response when his mom suggested that he go help: “Never had it even been suggested that I help my father with anything.” And as he hopped out of the car to help you could see the delight on his face and the enthusiasm in his voice. I know for myself that I can easily miss the immense good that can come from inviting others to do things along with us. Whether it’s children, grandchildren, godchildren, nieces, nephews, someone else’s kids, or even our peers or elders, there is a great gift in asking others to help with things. I can remember countless times where I was asked to help fix something or paint something at my house, knowing full well that my parents would have to go back and re-do it and clean up the mess I’d made trying to do it the first time. The bigger picture is that when we invite others to join with us, we honor their dignity and show them that they are loved and wanted. St. Joseph showed that same things to Jesus in this journey. It was custom also in the Jewish world that boys would become men in the eyes of the law at the age of 13 and would begin making journeys to the Temple soon themselves and so the fathers would begin to take them along when they were 11 or 12 to get used to the trip and introduce them to their faith. St. Joseph was essentially bringing Jesus along not only because Mary was coming but also to help him transition to manhood. I wonder what conversations were had. Did he teach him about the paths to take or places to stop along the way? Did they discuss the prayers that are prayed and what sacrifices are done and how? Did he explain why these things were done to begin with and help the boy to grasp the honor he was giving God? Surely the boy Jesus knew these and many other things, but it was at the invitation of Joseph that He began to be truly a son of the Father under the Law. How often do we do the same in our own lives?

The last point that this passage and the movie highlighted were that it is okay not to be perfect. When God took on flesh He did so not in a way that was sanitary and clean, away from our sinfulness and messiness. He was born in a place where there was no home to stay in and laid in a manger, a feeding trough for the animals. He came not to avoid the messiness of life but to walk with us in it and to sanctify us by it. We may not be sinless like the Holy Family, but we are called to do our best in the midst of the messiness that is this life. We are called to holiness not separated from our daily life, but in the course of it. And this the Holy Family teaches us. Jesus misunderstood, Mary and Joseph were frustrated and anxious. But at the end, they went home and all continue to grow in God’s grace and favor. May the Holy Family watch over us always and help us to be holy families to shine for others.

Going to the Breach (no, not the beach)

Readings for Sunday, October 4/ 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Genesis 2:18-24
Psalm 128
Hebrews 2:9-11
Mark 10:2-16

The year was 1571. The Church was experiencing attacks from all sides and was reeling in response, trying to bring some calm to the storm that had brought such devastation. Some years before Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the door of the local church and started a revolution that resulted in the breaking up of the Body of Christ. Others soon followed in his footsteps of protest and continued the divisions. The Council of Trent went to work to bring about some healing in the Body and to revisit Catholic teaching when so many things came to be questioned. As if this weren’t enough, the Church experienced attacks from outside as well. The Ottoman Empire had continued to grow in power and spread steadily toward Christian Europe. The nearness of the armies was a cause of great concern, as European culture and the future of the Christian faith itself both hung in the balance with each victory by their Muslim opponents. Fortunately the Holy Spirit had been at work and brought Pope Pius V to be elected Pope. He, seeing the invasion draw nearer, encouraged the whole Christian community to pray the rosary daily for a positive outcome in the battle that would soon take place, and so it was done. October 7 of that year saw the Holy League ships stumble upon those of the Ottoman Empire at sea and, though lacking strategy and with fewer men and ships, the battle was begun. Miraculously the Christian army came out victorious, the spread of the Ottoman Empire was kept at bay, and the Holy Father proclaimed a universal feast of ‘Our Lady of Victory’ for October 7 on account of the power of the rosary and Our Lady’s prayers. This feast continues today under a new title, Our Lady of the Holy Rosary, and will be celebrated again this Wednesday for over the 400^th time.

The feast of Our Lady of the Holy Rosary highlights the fact that the rosary is not just a way for us to meditate and encounter God in His mysteries. It is also a very powerful weapon. St. Padre Pio knew this well as when he was too ill to move around he would ask the friar assisting him ‘Brother, get me my weapon’ and it was the rosary that was placed in his hand. Indeed the rosary, when prayed collectively and with fervor and focus can change history. So I invite you to join with me in praying the rosary for a new battle that is taking place. This new battle is not one involving weaponry or military tactics – it’s a battle that is being waged against the family in the world today. St. John Paul II often noted that ‘as the family goes, so goes society’ and we need only take a cursory glance around to see that society is not doing so well. Mass murders & genocides, name-calling and hatred in all directions, a loss of respect for human life in general. In our own community where years ago you had no need whatsoever of a lock on your front door, today we have not only locks but bars and alarms. Society is not doing well and the reason is because the family is not doing well.

Today (Sunday) begins the Synod on the Family that we’ve been waiting for since this time last year. Bishops, cardinals, theologians, and lay men and women from across the world gather once more for three weeks to discuss the family – the gift of the family, the challenges faced by families today, and the vocation of the family. Pray the rosary for the participants at the Synod, that they might be able to discern what is it that God desires to highlight in each of these areas and how it is that the Church can help families in their journey together toward the Lord. But pray not only for the Synod participants, but pray also for your own families. ‘This Hail Mary is for Aunt Suzie, this one for cousin Johnny, this one for grandma or grandpa…” Never underestimate the value of those prayers prayed with a pure heart and loving intention. It can change history.

At this point I want to change course a bit and get into the scriptures we just heard, but I want to focus the homily specifically to the men here today. I recognize that there are a number of women here and I don’t mean to exclude you from the points being made. I’ve been to many a talk on Holy Matrimony and though I’m not married and will never be getting married, the talks still encouraged me in my own vocation and faith. I pray, ladies, that the same can be said for you about what follows.

Men: this week Bishop Thomas Olmsted of the Diocese of Phoenix issued a letter to the men of his diocese entitled “Into the Breach” (found HERE). I have copies available in the back of the church for every man here to pick one up and take it home to read through. It’s a simple document that looks at us and discusses the role of Catholic men in the Church, what it means to be a Catholic man, what a Catholic man’s spiritual life looks like, and the importance of fathers, grandfathers, godfathers and so on. In essence it helps to break open what we heard in the scripture just a moment ago.

The Lord Jesus is tested once again with a question about whether a man can issue a bill of divorce to his wife. Jesus inquires what Moses said and they happily respond that Moses permitted it. “But for the hardness of your hearts Moses permitted it!” the Lord responds, but from the beginning it was no so. Jesus acknowledges the teaching of Moses, but demonstrates that such a thing was more of ‘Plan B’ when men weren’t strong enough to live the commandments. He then moves to ‘Plan A’ when God first created man and woman, husband and wife. Genesis is the model that we are called to follow because we have the grace of Jesus Christ at our fingertips and can do all things through Him who strengthens us. And so the call is to return to the first model, that set up by the Lord God Himself. I want to highlight for our reflection three points:

First, Adam is cooperating with God in the building up of the world. Later on we will see an Adam who has sinned and is hiding behind the bushes, scared to encounter His Lord. But that is not yet. Here Adam is fully present to God, assisting in the work of the Garden’s beautification. My brothers: what does our union with God look like? What does my relationship with the Father look like? How do our conversations with Him go? Am I aware that there are supposed to be conversations to begin with? Am I in union with God, or am I sometimes hiding behind the bushes afraid of what might happen if we step forward into the path of the Creator? What does my relationship with God look like?

Secondly, Adam gives a name to Eve. In this context, to name something was to exercise some dominion over it. In naming the animals Adam was taking up a responsibility in caring for each of them and ensuring that they would be able to attain their own perfection. In the same manner the Lord creates Eve and Adam gives her a name, ‘woman.’ The man Adam now has an obligation that he’s been given by God to protect, to care for, and to build up the life of woman and all that issue forth from her, their children, not because she couldn’t but simply because it was his calling. This was actually the first fault of man in the scriptures. Often we think it’s that Eve at of the forbidden fruit, but if we are attentive to the details it says that she ate it and gave some to her husband who was with her. The problem was that the serpent (the literal meaning would be more like ‘dragon’) came to trick Eve into eating the fruit and Adam, though there, failed to step into the breach and defend his wife. We see here the ancient fulfillment of the words spoken by Edmund Burke: “The only thing necessary for the triumph evil is for good men to do nothing.” The invitation is for me today to not fall into the same trap. What the family needs today are men willing to step into the breach and fight for the life of their loved ones, not just in the earthly sense but also in the heavenly. To have men who are the first to call the family to pray together. The first to lead the blessing at meals, to do a family rosary, to sit down with the Bible and pray together as a family, to lead by example at Mass and in celebrating our faith in the midst of the world by selfless service to others. Are we willing to step into the breach in that way?

The last point for our reflection is that when Adam beholds the woman he joyfully shouts ‘At last, bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh’ and he clings to his wife. Clings to her! The other day I wrapped up some veggies on a plate and when I tried to get the cling wrap off the plate, I had quite a time. It was tight on the plate and when I tried to peel part of it, other parts stuck back to the plate. It wasn’t that cheap stuff that just easily peels off and is quickly set aside; it clung to the plate. It’s about a willingness to be faithful first and foremost. To cling to one’s spouse and never to permit anything to come between you. And to show your love for her, and for your larger family, by signs of loves – embracing them like Jesus, blessing them, give your wife a kiss when you come home or when you leave, to exchange signs of affirm over and over the fact that you are one flesh. It is often the case that we men are reluctant to be vulnerable, to open our hearts to others, or to allow our love to be shown or spoken – but these are things that our families need and deserve from us.

This is the way that God desired it to be from the beginning; alive in God, willing to take up our mission, and able to cling to our beloved. My brothers, the battle is begun and casualties have already resulted. May God grant us the courage to step into the breach for love of Him and for love of the gift that is our family.

Our Lady of the Holy Rosary, pray for us.

Our Father

"Don't touch the plates. They're hot."

Readings for Sunday, August 30 / 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-8
Psalm 15
James 1:17-18, 21-22, 27
Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Anyone who has recently seen me without my Mass vestments on can usually tell that my vestments have been in need of a little attention. Buttons have been missing the cloth covering, a few seams were torn here and there, a tear on one has been held together by safety pins for months, they’re a little too short, and admittedly no longer black but more of a dark gray. I’ve known this for a while. It actually began about a year ago when I went home and my mom told me it was time to start looking at getting new cassocks. I said ‘ok’ and continued on with life as normal. Next time I went home, the same exchange. Over the course of several months it happened more often than not when I would go home and it began to bother me a bit. Each time it was said I received it less as a critique of my clothing and more a critique of me; that there was something wrong with me. After months of the ‘you need new cassocks’ and ‘ok’ exchange mom finally just told me we were going to the store to look at the selection and so we went. I was already a bit worked up that day from other things and the cassock-critiques had worn pretty hard on me. Mom was looking at the rack of cassocks, all of which I didn’t like for some particular reason, and I was about 15 feet away looking at candlesticks. Her good friend joined us at the store and the two of them were talking and mom mentioned my cassock and she didn’t like how rough they were looking, this with me in earshot. In a moment of frustration I lost it and said something to the effect of ‘Well I guess I should consider it an act of charity that I don’t get to go home much these days, that way you don’t have to see me in it.’ As soon as the words came out my mouth I could feel things change. It hurt her and I knew it.

Very few words were exchanged after that. We rode silently to lunch and sat quietly at the table, each of us paying attention to other things around us rather than talking to each other. After lunch she dropped me off and I came back to the rectory. I was still upset and she was too. After a couple of days stewing things over I called her and apologized for what I had said and done and we experienced reconciliation and healing. I mention healing specifically because there was a wound that was inflicted, not to skin and bone, but to a relationship.

In the readings for today we hear a good bit about commandments, the law of God and the traditions of men. The commandments are good and holy things, but the problem is that most of us are never really sorry for breaking rules. I remember only one time in my life when I apologized to a rule for breaking it and that was in driver’s ed. Our teacher, Mrs. Paige, had a policy that any time we broke one of the rules of the road that we had to get out an apologize to the sign indicating the broken rule. I broke the speed limit (go figure!) and had to apologize to the sign for my infraction. After giving it a hug for good measure – I was and still am a bit weird – I hopped back in the car and off we went. I wasn’t really sorry for the rule being broken though. In fact most of the time I’ve felt sorrow for breaking rules it was more honestly sorrow that I had been caught.

That’s understandable when it comes to things like traffic laws and such. The problem is that we often and easily apply this laissez faire approach to commandments to the relationship that we’re invited to have with God our Father.

When we treat sins like mere rules and laws, we turn God our Father into the God our Master – a divine rule maker who we don’t have to care about personally but for whom we must ‘stay in line.’ To do this is to miss one of the greatest gifts that we have been given by God, namely, adoption in His Son. We are the Father’s adopted sons and daughters and He loves us as His own children. But that doesn’t mean He lets us simply do whatever we please. God never commands us to do or not do things ‘just because.’ There is always a purpose and reason. When my mom and I were sitting quietly in the restaurant, the waiter brought out our plates and told to us ‘Don’t touch the plates. They’re hot.’ I wasn’t upset that I couldn’t touch my plate. I appreciated that our waiter saved me the trouble of getting burned trying to reposition things. In the same way a father tells their child ‘don’t touch that’ to numerous things – open flames, open ovens, ant beds, etc. – all in the name of love. He does it not to restrict freedom but to preserve the child from pain. And the commandments of God? The exact same. I could go around committing all sorts of sins and reaping the rewards of physical, spiritual, and emotional pain and suffering and learn not to do those things eventually. Or I can simply listen to the Word of the Lord saying ‘my son, don’t do that, it’s not good for you’ and trust the Father who is showing His concern.

Last weekend we were faced with the call of Joshua to ‘decide today whom you will serve.’ Let us choose today once more not to serve a master of laws, but instead to embrace our Father. As we pray that prayer given so many years ago, may our hearts well up today with the joy of indeed being children of God and help us always to seek deeper union with our Father.

With Authority!

Tabernacle in progress...

Readings for Sunday, June 21/ 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Job 28:1, 8-11
Psalm 107
2 Corinthians 5:14-17
Mark 4:35-41

My first experience of something like being a father came at Camp Chosatonga, where I worked as a camp counselor for two summers during my seminary formation. Unlike many camps where the kids would come for a week and then head home, the kids at this camp came for 3 ½ weeks or 5 weeks, some staying the whole 9 weeks. It was great because I was actually able to get to know the kids and because I stayed in the cabin, had to make sure they were taken care of. I had to do things that typical dads have to do: make sure they eat, clean their room, brush their teeth, shower regularly, etc. I also had to worry discipline them, encourage them, and sometimes give them guidance and direction on things at camp or back at home. Years later I continue to reflect upon those two summers, as I still keep in touch with a number of the boys, now young men, who were there. And it hits me specifically that if those few short weeks 10 years ago had such a profound impact upon those children, how much more does the relationship with their own fathers have an impact?

Looking at the world around us we see that fatherhood is in a major crisis at the moment. 1 in 3 children today are raised in homes without their biological father. Many have no father figure at all.  Add to this the media portrayal of fathers as a bunch of Homer Simpson look-alikes who are generally incompetent, angry, childish, or unconcerned about their family, and you soon have a picture of fatherhood that is anything but inspiring. The importance of a father, though, is something that continues to be shown in research even if not in the media; how the presence of a father direction affects a child’s education, behavior, proneness to depress, likeliness to engage in drug use or premarital sexual activity, fidelity in their future relationships, and even their religious upbringing. Did you know that when the father attends church weekly the child is 70% more likely to be religious as an adult? That’s huge.

I don’t want to get caught up in statistics though, because every study can be tweaked to it’s own desired end. I want to start at the beginning: “Male and female He created them; in His image and likeness He created them.” It’s about what the Church refers to as the complimentarity of the sexes, the fact that men and women were created by God to be men and women and eventually fathers and mothers, and that both are images of God. This weekend’s scriptures show us an attribute of God that is traditionally ascribed to men, namely, authority.

Years past heard the regular reference to the father as the head of the family, which rubs many people wrong these days. They hear ‘head of the family’ and shrink back because we’re in an age of equality when everyone should be on even ground and there’s no differences in anything, but the simple fact is the being equal doesn’t mean we’re all supposed to be the same. Everyone one of us is different in the church today, but we each have the same dignity, the same right, and the same value in the eyes of God. The simple fact is that men were created by God and designed to be the head of the family and that women were created by God and design to be the heart of the family. Women are naturally more nurturing and caring,. Men are naturally more inclined to discipline and direction. Have any of the ladies every been frustrated because you’re talking to a man and he seems not to understand that you just need him to listen but he keeps trying to offer advice on how to fix the situation or take some action toward a resolution? It’s written in our very sexuality as men! Unfortunately wounded humanity has often taken what is a good attribute and brought it to a sad end. Men have often exercised their authority in a negative fashion by degrading, oppressing, and becoming domineering to other, specifically their families. This is not the type of authority that God desires to be show in men. Rather, the type of authority God seeks to have us men exercise is demonstrated by the Lord Jesus in the Gospel and described by St. Paul in the Letter to the Corinthians. Jesus, knowing the need of His disciples, rebukes the wind and sea and exercises His rightful authority not for Himself but only for the service of His disciples. Here the words of St. Paul about ‘no longer living for oneself’ become particularly important. Authority has been entrusted to men, but it is an authority that manifests itself in service for those entrusted to him. Jesus teaches many powerful things and works miracle after miracle, showing His authority in each case. Not one time is it for His own glory or benefit, but always for the good of the other, out of love and concern for the other to have life here on this earth and to prepare for life in the world to come. Earthly Fatherhood is called to be a living image of the Fatherhood of God that is ever patient, present, guiding and directing us in the path that will bring us the greatest eternal reward. It’s love in a different light.

Last weekend, if you remember, the scriptures were all about plants and how the farmer sows the seed and it brings for a blade, then an ear, then the grain, and then it’s harvest time, though the farmer knows not how. That passage made me think about how while God sometimes does miraculous things, the real action of God is in the everyday stuff of life; it’s in the daily growth of the plant that’s easy to miss unless we’re very attentive. This was in my mind when I went to my mom and stepdad’s house the other day to work on building a box. I arrived and my stepdad stopped what he was working on and sat down to have lunch with me. Then we went over my ideas and he asked me all sorts of questions about different options, what I was envisioning, whether my measurements would be right, and so on. Then we went to the garage and he showed me how to use the table saw, which we didn’t have when I lived at home. He pointed to the blade and said, “Don’t touch this.” We went through it all and then he helped me make the first few cut on the large sheet of plywood I was using. Then he went back to his work. Every now and then he’d pop his head into the garage and wave his fingers at me and ask, “Still got 10?” and I’d wave mine back and say, “Yes sir!” As I worked I was filled with gratitude because my stepdad was showing me the love of the Father in the way that men do it best, by exercising self-less authority and guidance. He took time from his project to simply be with me, to guide and direct me, to encourage me in my own work, to show me what to do and enable me to reach the end that I was aiming for. It wasn’t anything spectacular or miraculous but it was a reminder that God is always at work doing the same – making a point to be with us, guiding us, encouraging us, and directing us to eternal life. The love of a father.

So, fathers, I have a simple request and it is but an echo of Pope Francis’ recent addresses: play with your kids. It doesn’t matter what you do, just make time to play with them, to be with them, to guide and encourage them. If you do, you can rest assured that they’re in good hands because they won’t be receiving just your love, they’ll be seeing and experiencing the love of the Father through you.

...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.

Smelly Fish and Fine Pearls

Readings for Sunday, July 27/ 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
1 Kings 3:5,7-12

Psalm 119
Romans 8:28-30
Matthew 13:44-52

Last weekend the Lord gave us three parables about the identifying features of the Kingdom of Heaven: the evil mixed with the good, the exponential growth from seed to bush, and the transformative power of even the smallest bit. Today we continue with that section of the Gospel and hear the Lord Jesus tell us that it is not enough simply to know where the Kingdom of Heaven is. We must choose it for ourselves and be willing to give up everything in order to attain it.

The parables of the treasure in the field and the pearl of great price illustrate well the challenge of Jesus. The individuals found something that was of greater worth than all of their other possessions and went to sell all that they had in order to attain the great treasure and pearl. There was nothing that could stop them from doing so because they were filled with such joy and the same should be said of the Kingdom of Heaven that is to come and the Kingdom of Heaven among us and within us even now. There is no greater treasure in the world. Do we live it?

The men who found the treasure and the pearl, if they had found them and then gone off rejoicing that they had found the special treasure but failed to actually go back and get it for themselves would be absolute fools. And us – we, too, would be absolute fools to discover the Kingdom of Heaven and fail to take the steps to attain it because it is greater even than the pearl of great price and the precious treasure. It is so great that there is nothing in this world that can compare to it. That’s why it’s worth setting everything else aside to attain it. But sometimes that ‘everything’ can be difficult to part with.

It’s been said that the cost of discipleship is nothing less than everything, all that we have and are. When I was discerning the priesthood there were many places where I encountered that ‘nothing less than everything’ in concrete ways and the one that was most difficult for me was, of course, the concrete cost of not having a wife and children. The desire for a spouse and children is written in every human heart, but some are invited to live that desire out in a spiritual manner rather than physical and I struggled with that discernment and the ultimate step of willingness to pay that cost. My consolation in those times was to turn to the words of Jesus in Matthew 19, where He says ‘whoever leaves behind father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, and lands for my sake and the sake of the gospel will have it paid back a hundred-fold in this lifetime and more in the next.’ Well, I’m here today to tell you that I kinda think Jesus was lying to the disciples when He said a hundred-fold because as a pastor, I am quickly realizing I have way more than a hundred wives because every lady in the parish has a honey-do list for me, I have more kids than I could have dreamed of having and each has specific needs, and I have more brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, and so-on than I know what to do with! I say Jesus was lying to them because the abundance of repayment that comes when we give up something for His sake is far beyond a hundred-fold. If He had been more accurate I think it would have scared the disciples at the immensity of the gift they would shortly receive. And that’s not even the best part!

A couple of weeks ago we heard St. Paul’s letter to the Romans tell us that ‘the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared to the glory that is to be revealed in us.’ The worst things in this life will seem as absolutely nothing compared to the glory we will experience. But that applies also to the joys – the joys of this life, as good as they are, aren’t even a small bit of what is to come. It’s like comparing apples and Ferraris! That’s the kingdom that awaits us!

Often when we realize this blessed gift that is freely offered to us, there is a sense that in order to accept it and to live it we have to become this entirely new person; I have to stop being me and start being a holy person. This is not at all what Christ calls us to. He actually just calls us to be ourselves, but enlivened with His Holy Spirit. I’ve always had a great love for music. I love to listen to it, sing it, I used to play and write it. When I was in my teens I wanted to be a rock star, so when confirmation time came around I figured who better to help that dream come true than the patron saint of musicians – Pope St. Gregory the Great. So, I picked Gregory and knew I’d be set for the big stage. Fast-forward a few years and I’m in the seminary learning a new style of singing, writing different music, and preparing to perform on an entirely different ‘stage’ for the Lord. My love for music wasn’t erased but it was given a new focus by the Lord and my passion for it has changed to glorify Him in the liturgy instead of at bars and arenas. We could look to St. Paul who zealously lived the Jewish faith and persecuted the Church, but after his conversion he fought for the Church and endured the persecution he once inflicted on the Christians. St. Ignatius of Loyola took a cannonball to the knee in battle and while in the hospital read the life of Christ and learned of the saints and was converted, becoming soon a powerful soldier in the army of Christ. This is what Jesus means in that strange conclusion at the end of the reading today.

Jesus asks if the disciples if they understand and they say ‘Yes!’ (because a good disciple always does, right?) and He continues, saying, “every scribe who has been instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old.” The 'old' is me, my gifts, my desires, my weakness, and all that God has made in 'me'. The 'new' is the Holy Spirit-led mission that Christ wants to live out through those 'old' aspects. The point is that Jesus wants us to be ourselves, not anyone else. Whether we’re working at the farm, teaching in the classroom, caring for kids or grandkids, volunteering in the community, or anything else under the sun – do those things as a Catholic. We must not simple be Catholic. We must live Catholic. That’s the little piece about the fish in the net. The Church is the Kingdom and she is full of all sorts of different ‘fish’. But simply being in the net, simply being Catholic, is not enough to get into Heaven. We must be good fish worth keeping. Like a crawfish boil – you don’t eat the dead ones! The same with the Lord; He only takes to Himself the good fish to celebrate the heavenly banquet and the rest are cast into fire because they have no life.

As we come to receive the Lord Jesus today, let us ask these graces: to set aside anything that separates us from Him and to be open to the grace to live the life He has called us to live. Don’t worry about being someone extraordinary. Just be yourself in Christ – that is enough for you and it is enough for Him who made you.  

Pastors and Flocks and Jesus, Oh My!

SHEEP!!!

Readings for Sunday, July 6/ 14th Week in Ordinary Time:
Zechariah 9:9-10
Psalm 145:1-2, 8-11, 13-14
Romans 8:9, 11-13
Matthew 11:25-30

Transitions in parish life are always bittersweet. It was hard for me to leave behind the parish family that I had come to know and love after being there for two years and I know that it was tough for y’all to see Fr. Lee leave after ten years here and becoming such an important part of your lives and community. For me, though, and hopefully for you as well, there is still a great sense of joy in transition because it gives us the chance to reflect back upon the many ways that God has acted in our lives before, the blessings we’ve received, the relationships that have changed us and give thanks to the Lord for those things. And it is a chance to start anew, to witness the work of God in a new context, and to build new relationships. That said, I’m very happy to be here to see what God has in store for us.

Apparently that joy is evening showing on my face a little these days. Friday I went home to celebrate the 4^th with my family and my oldest sister came up and said to me, “Brent, you look…happy!” Now that might not seem like a big deal, but it was and reason is this: I’m not a very visually expressive person. Often I am having a great time and you simply can’t tell from my facial expression. And I can remember several Christmases when I got absolutely incredible gifts and my response was a subdued “cool,” much to my parents’ frustration. So when my sister told me I looked happy, it really struck me and was good to hear that the joy in my heart was actually showing in my face. The joy is showing more now not because my other assignments weren’t enjoyable (quite the opposite!) but that it I’m entering into the state of life that I was created for and for which I have longed – to become a father in a community.

A quick snapshot of my vocation story: I was baptized Catholic, raised in the Methodist faith, and confirmed on my 11^th birthday in the Methodist Church. Then my mom decided to become Catholic and my stepdad returned to the Church and I came along with them and, joy of joys, I got to start my religious education all over again in a new church when I had just finished it. You can probably guess how excited I was about this becoming Catholic thing! But I became Catholic nonetheless, or at least attended the Church. I say that because while I was externally Catholic, I was internally an atheist. I thought all of the stuff I was hearing, seeing, and doing was just a bunch of nonsense, but I had to continue on to keep mom happy. Eventually I got involved in the high school youth group and began to believe in God and experience great conversion. Right before my senior year of high school I began to feel a calling to ‘something more’ in the Church. It took me a year to realize it might be priesthood and two more years to work up the courage to actually pursue that path. By that time I was already in my second year at LSU. I transferred to the seminary in Covington and complete my undergrad work in two years and graduated. Then I took a year off to think about become a monk, because what better place for a simple little introvert that in a quiet monastery where I could read and pray and serve in a hidden capacity, right? Well, I went and had a great time, but things changed when I returned home.

One day I went to my parish and asked the pastor if he could hear my confession and he was gracious enough to do so. We talked for a little bit about my discernment and he sent me off on my way. Later on in prayer I realized that what my pastor had done for me was what I had desired in my heart along: to be able to be in the midst of a community in order to know people and journey with them as they walk toward the Lord. His example gave me clarity and I returned to the seminary that summer and four years later was ordained a priest.

Doing Communion Visits during mission in Nicaragua

I tell you that story about my pastor because it is what I (and, really, the Church) envision as the role of the pastor in a community. I don’t know if you might have heard about Pope Francis’ homily last year at the Chrism Mass, but he said something that has helped me to think more concretely about that desire of my heart. He said to a group of priests that a shepherd must smell like his sheep. And that is exactly what I’m here to do. Not smell like a sheep of course, but to be here in the midst of you, to journey alongside you, and together to walk toward the Lord Jesus. Now, if any of you has sheep, I’d be happy to visit with you and smell like an actual sheep afterward too. The point is that if I as the shepherd in the community do not spend time in the midst of you, how will I get to know you? How can I know what are your needs, desires, struggles, and joys? It is not the task of the parish priest to stay cooped up in the rectory and read, write and reflect all day. While those things are good and necessary, my first obligation is to care for the flock entrusted to me: to care for each of you. On the flipside of the coin, if you don’t know me, what reason do you have to trust me, listen to me, or follow me as a spiritual shepherd? I want to be with you to get to know you personally and let you get to know me as well. That will happen some here at church, but I’d like to visit with you at your home, to share meals with you, to hunt, fish, or anything else with you. I don’t know how to do most of the latter, but I’m willing to do anything once as long as it’s not a sin!

The simple point in the midst of this all is that I want to get to know you and have you know me so that together we can walk toward the Lord Jesus who bids us come. Because that’s the reason we’re here. The whole Gospel and the whole Bible in general can be summed up in the three simple words Jesus speaks to us today, “Come to me.” Our whole life is about coming to Jesus over and over and over again. It’s about trying our best to recognize and to live the truth that Jesus really is the center of everything. Often we’ll think of our lives like a pie – a chunk of our time for work, a chunk for family, a chunk for this and that activity – but our relationship with Jesus isn’t supposed to be a piece of the larger pie, it’s the crust that hold all the rest together. This is my ultimate goal for each and every one of us, myself included: to come to a place in our lives where we have a deep, unshakable conviction in our hearts that without a daily, personal, intimate relationship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, we are dead. Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life and today he bids us come to Him and find peace. All of us. Nobody is an exception because all of us are weary, all of us have burdens we’re carrying through this life, and all of us want peace. Come. Place yourself in His hands and He places Himself in yours at Holy Communion. Come to Jesus.

In a time of transition there are always little tweaks and changes and you can see a few of them already with the vestments, altar cross, and chanting. There are particular reasons for each of those things, which I will explain in subsequent homilies, and the main reason is always to give another opportunity, another way, to encounter Jesus Christ and to walk away changed because that’s what it’s all about. So as we begin to walk together toward the Lord Jesus, let us call upon the protection of our heavenly patrons to watch over us and keep us safe: St. Ann, pray for us. St. Vincent de Paul, pray for us. Amen.