Homily for Sunday, October 14

Readings for Sunday, October 14 / 28th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Wisdom 7:7-11 |  Psalm 90  |  Hebrews 4:12-13  |  Mark 10:17-30

Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? Have you asked this question for yourself?

Homily for Sunday, September 30

Readings for Sunday, September 30 / 26th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Numbers 11:25-29  |  Psalm 19 |  James 5:1-6  |  Mark 9:28-43, 45, 47-48

Today the readings of Holy Mass invite us to reflect upon whether we have attachments that separate us from Christ, and pray for the grace to choose Christ above all things. 

Easter: Pray for Peace - Homily for May 14

Readings for Sunday, May 14: Acts 6:1-7  |  Psalm 33  |  1 Peter 2:4-9  |  John 14:1-12

This weekend is the centennial anniversary of the first apparition of Our Lady of Fatima to the shepherd children. As Pope St. John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI reminded us, the message of Fatima is even more important today than in years past. Let us heed the call to pray the rosary daily for peace and to make sacrifices for the conversion of hearts!

Pre-Lent: Fasting - Homily for February 12

Readings for Sunday, February 12 / 6th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Sirach 15:15-20  |  Psalm 119  |  1 Corinthians 2:6-10  |  Matthew 5:17-37

If you choose, you can keep the commandments. So says our first reading for us today. If you choose ... Last weekend we reflected on that reality the Lord invites us to be who we are called to be, to be who He created us to be, to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. To choose to be salt, to choose to be light, to choose to follow the commandments. Indeed, ultimately most of our Christian life comes down to our choices. Adam and Eve faced the particular choice that determined the rest of creation. Having received all the goodness of God and so many blessings, Adam and Eve did the one thing they were not supposed to do - to eat of the tree instead of the garden - the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The Lord God said, "If you eat of that tree, you will die." And certainly the day comes, as we know, and the devil comes to tempt them saying, "Did God really say that you will die? Surely you will not die. It can't be that bad." The devil speaks into their ear and they hear it, they hear the voice of the evil one, and he comes up and it resonates in their hearts. Adam and Eve choose to break the commandment of God, they choose not to keep the Lord's will, and in doing so, they choose for all of humanity to be broken by sin. Every human heart, except those of Jesus and Mary, have since that time be plagued by the same struggle. St. Paul would describe it as the lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes and the pride of life - the triple concupiscence. It was this recognition of this desire to obtain the things that are pleasurable in this world, to be able to take that which is not properly ours and to be able to exalt ourselves. All three of those lusts of the heart, Adam and Eve fell to, and so do we. The Church in her wisdom, just like a good mother, knows exactly how to respond to us with the proper remedy, and the remedy we know is - as we hear from the Lenten season that we hear each year - is prayer, fasting and almsgiving. The lust of the flesh, the desire to experience the pleasures of this world, to that the Church responds and invites us to fast, to give up something from time to time, and so to gain something even greater. The lust of the eyes, that desire to amass things for ourselves, an implicit lack of trust in the Lord God who says He will provide for us, for that, the Church invites us to almsgiving. Rather than to take to receive, the Church invites us to be generous in giving. And lastly, the pride of life, the desire to exalt ourselves, the Church responds and acknowledges the remedy to that is prayer, where we rely upon our God for everything, even the breath that we take next, comes as a gift from our God. So, the Church invites us to reflect on these: prayer, fasting and almsgiving. 

Often times when it comes to the Lenten season, we pick one and we use that for our Lenten practice for the year - we're going to abstain from sweets or from cokes or whatever we choose that year. Or maybe we decide this year we are going to focus on prayer and spend a little more time in prayer. Or maybe we want to be a little more generous this year, we are going to put some food in the food basket to be able to give to the food pantry. Or we are going to do the Rice Bowl program, or some of these other ways in which we can express our generosity and give alms to others and to the Lord. And all of those are good things, but the Church in her wisdom invites us not to pick one, but indeed to pick all three and to practice something of each of them throughout the course of the Lenten season and through the year.

When I was in the seminary, a few friends of mine had gone and run and half marathon, and I wanted in on the fun. I decided to train with them for the next one, and so we began going out on weekly runs, going three, four, five times a week and jog around the city. Ultimately, the race day came, we ran our race chugging along, and about mile 11 I started to notice my right foot was really hurting. About mile 12, I was limping along. By mile 13 I could barely walk on it, and I knew something was wrong. Come to find out the next day, I went to the doctor and found out I had a stress fracture that I kept running on, and it kept getting more and more broken. The doctor said that part of my problem was my training, saying that if I wanted to do this more than once, if I wanted to be more than just a one and done runner, if I wanted to be able run half marathons and marathons until I'm 40 and beyond, I needed to not just run - I needed to bike and swim. Train like a triathletes because your body will become more adaptive that way. Certainly you will be strengthened in different ways, but your body reacts differently. If you only do the same thing over and over, you can actually become weaker, and that's why you broke your foot. 

The Church in her wisdom invites us to the same. Can we pick one and be fruitful? Yes. But it''s even more fruitful, and in fact easier, if we do three. To pick something of each and to give ourselves to that in the Lord. We reflect today on the first of those - the gift of fasting. 

What is fasting? If we are fasting to be able to lose weight, we are not fasting, we are dieting. If we are fasting because we don't have any food, we're not fasting, we're starving. If we are fasting because we were not hungry, and so we're going to skip the meal, we're not fasting, we're just not hungry. Those are not fasting. Those are things that happen to be circumstances of the day taken upon us. Rather fasting is to intentionally choose to give up something so that we might be able to gain something even greater. Not a slimmer waist line, but a stronger spirit - and that's the gift of fasting. The reality of fasting is that it unites us to Jesus Christ. Whether it's fasting from a particular meals or going on a stricter regiment of things or if it's simply to abstain from meat or something of the sort. To do those things unites us to the Cross, and the cross has power. 

Remember the story of how Jesus goes and gives the disciples the charge to go forth and to prepare the way. He sends them out two by two ahead of him. They go out and come back to him, marveling at the things that have happened through their hands and their prayers. "Lord, people were healed. The deaf can hear on account of us. We cast out demons. It was incredible! You should've seen it." And they marveled at the ways God was working through them, powerful ways. And yet there came a day in which they came upon an individual who was possessed by a demon, and they prayed, and prayed and prayed, and the demon would not leave the individual. In exasperation, they go to the Lord, "We've done everything you've said. We've done everything that we know how to do. We've prayed every prayer that we can to free him from the demon. What are we missing?" And the Lord Jesus said to them, "This kind is only cast out by prayer and fasting." Prayer and fasting. Because again, fasting unites us to the cross, and the cross is the sign of victory of Christ from which the demons flee. They fly from the cross because they hate it. To the extent that we unite ourselves to the cross of Jesus, to the extent that we forsake even for a short time - to go without a single meal for the love of Jesus, to go without meat for a day for the love of Jesus, to go abstain or fast from technology for a day for love of Jesus - whatever it is for the love of Jesus, if we do those things and unite ourselves to Christ (not just as a way to get things in this word, to lose weight or whatever) but to use them as spiritual tools to rely upon God. To the extent that our flesh struggles a bit, our spirit grows stronger. It's the invitation to grow strong in the Holy Spirit, to fight the temptations of the evil one and to have him flee from us. 

It can be tempting to not fast, to be able to abstain from those things we ought to abstain. And yet the Lord invites us to do so joyfully and boldly. St. Peter in his frustration in the scriptures (we can always rely on Peter for an honest answer) - as he is going through the journey of discipleship with Christ, he is seeing that he has given up everything. He left his family behind, he left his business, they didn't have job insurance, he wasn't banking on anything else, and he looks at the Lord one day and says, "What I gonna get? If I give up these things, what's the payoff? What's the end goal? How do I come out? Do I just lose?" And the Lord Jesus assures him that whoever gives up anything for the sake of the kingdom, for the sake of the spread of the Gospel, will have so a hundredfold in this life and the next. We will be repaid in a way even greater than we can understand. More than we could've asked or taken for ourselves, the Lord will grant us these things freely and joyfully. 

Two days a year the Church requires us to fast - on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. Regrettably one of those days has become a day in which has become a tradition to have a crawfish boil. If your family tradition is to have a crawfish boil on Good Friday - STOP. Wait two more days and celebrate Easter because to have 5 or 10 lbs of crawfish and a six pack of beer is not fasting. That's feasting. If you consider that a fast, then we really need to talk about your food regiment. Two days a year the Church requires us to fast. An extra five or six days the Church requires us to abstain from meat by law during the Lenten season as a strict reality. But also, the Church invites us to a little bit more, indeed requires it of us. Some of you may recall a time when the Church said we were not permitted to eat any Friday of the year. Every Friday was a day of abstaining from meat. During the course of liturgical changes and various other changes in our Catholic faith in the 60's and 70's, it seems that that practice was tossed out the window. But the reality is that it still applies, it's still the law the Church advises to us. Although we may not hear about it very much, it's still something that is actually enforced. What took place rather than having a universal thing that says every Catholic across the globe must abstain from meat on Fridays, it was said to be left to the individual conference of bishops in the land that you live. For us, the United Sated Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) back in the 70's got together and discussed the topic, prayed about it and said on Fridays we are still going to encourage Catholics to abstain from meat - every Friday. But if the occasion arises to where they do eat meat for some reason, they should take up another penance in its place, to offer some other practice - maybe to pray the rosary that day, spend some time in prayer or offer a Divine Mercy Chaplet, do an extra act of service for someone else, a corporal or spiritual work of mercy. 

That's still the expectation of bishops for us - that we would live a life of penance. We don't have to be walking around in a sack cloth and ashes with frowny faces all the time, indeed the Lord says quite the opposite. It's an invitation to continually, not for a short time, but every year, every week to unite ourselves to the cross of Jesus and giving up something, fasting or abstaining. Ultimately we know that in the end, in the big picture, it will be absolutely worth it because we will be able to see that place which no eye sees, to hear that place which no ear has heard, and to understand - what St. Paul tells us - the idea which has never even entered the human heart of the richness God has in store for us. 

My brothers and sisters, heaven awaits and for that we fast. 

My King - Homily for November 20

Readings for Sunday, November 20 / Solemnity of Christ the King: 2 Samuel 5:1-3  |  Psalm 122  |  Colossians 1:12-20  |  Luke 23:35-43

“Trump is not my president.” Anybody heard that in the last week or so? It's an interesting response - a rejection of the President-elect, but it doesn't change the fact that come January he will in fact be the President of the United States. It does change the disposition of one's heart so there is a sense of an unwillingness to hear his words and to presume on good - to have an open heart to see what happens. It's a true statement in a sense, but even more true is that Jesus Christ is King of the universe. Maybe four years from now, or eight years from now, one can truly say Donald Trump is not the president, he's not my president - and say it in truth because he will be replaced by someone else. But there will never be a time or a place where one can say Jesus Christ is not the King. Never. For all of history, Christ reigns. 

Yesterday I had the privilege of going to Zion Travelers Baptist Church to be able to assist with a double funeral of Clayton Guidry and Christopher Armister. And in preparation for that, obviously not being a Catholic ceremony, we were trying to get our ducks in a row - myself and the other pastor - to try and see who was doing what and in what order. And so we were talking on the phone a couple days prior, and after we had sorted out some of the details regarding the service, we just started talking about being ministers of the Gospel. We began to talk about some of those things and one thing Rev. Tircuit said struck me; it’s something that I think applies to us this weekend. He said, "You know Father, our job isn't, nor are we able to, drag people into Heaven. We can't tie a rope to them and drag them behind us kicking and screaming just to get them to the pearly gates. Our job is basically we go, we proclaim the good news of Jesus, and if they accept it, good, and if not, it's not our fault." It was that recognition of the personal reality that indeed, just as one needs to accept the president as their president and have an openness to him, even more so it's the same with Christ - to have an openness to Christ, an openness to hearing His voice, seeking His choice for us. What is the will of God for me? To be willing to follow it. To have Him speak on my behalf. To have Him make decision for me. Are we willing to let Christ be that kind of King? Where we step back and let Him rule not just a portion of our lives, not just Sunday morning during the 9:30 am - 10:30 am slot, or the time in prayer throughout the day that we have those little spots here in there, but to rule every single moment, every single second, to let Jesus Christ be our King. 

The Old Testament says, "I set before you today two choices, two paths: life and death. Choose life." Choose life. Choose Christ. Choose eternity. Choose heaven. Anything you want to say - that's all the same. They are the same reality. To place ourselves in the care of Christ our God - that's the end point. 

As we come to this last Sunday in the liturgical year, we come with an opportunity to start fresh. Today is the last day of the Year of Mercy, but it doesn't have to be the end of the time of mercy, in fact, God's mercy is endless. So every day, we have the privilege of celebrating the mercy of God. Next weekend we celebrate the First Sunday of Advent, the new liturgical year, and it's an opportunity for us to start again. Just the same as we like to make our New Year's resolutions for January 1 - and usually fall off by January 2 - but with God, we can do even greater things. With God we can come and begin in Advent, to commit ourselves once more to allowing Christ to be truly our King, to let Him reign in hearts, but also in our daily lives. It's an opportunity, again, to start fresh, to recommit. And so if you haven't been attending Sunday Mass regularly, been a little spotty here and there, commit again today, right now, to coming every Sunday. Or if you've been coming to daily Mass every now and then, but have been slacking off on it, commit again today to be here with the Lord. If you have permitted yourself a time of prayer but sometimes other things take a little more importance and the prayer falls to the back seat, commit again today to letting Christ be first. If there are times in the course of our day that we don't really allow mercy to shine through in our hearts, commit again today to being a person of mercy. All of these things are invitations for us - graces that the Lord holds out and says, "Come. Come to Me." He says it directly in the Gospel, "Come to Me all you who are burdened and I will give You rest. My yoke is sweet and My burden is light." Come to me. Join yourself to Me. To the extent that we join our self to Jesus Christ things become easier, even if they become harder. Even if the weight of the cross becomes a little more heavy on our shoulders, it also becomes lighter in a sense because we bear it in union with Christ. Who among us would choose a king whose throne looked like a cross? And yet, that's what the Lord calls us to, to let Him lead us in ways that sometimes seem foolish, in ways that seem worthy of mockery to those around us. To give everything to Christ, and to the extent that we do it, He does the work for us. I need not worry of taking care of things myself, as Christ would on it on my behalf. My King will lead me, and that's good. 

At the end of the liturgical year on Christ the King Sunday, there is a prayer of consecration to the heart of Jesus that the Church has given us as an indulgenced prayer. Again it's a prayer of consecration of ourselves in our world to the Most Sacred Heart of the Lord and to prayer that our hearts will become like His. Indeed that's always the invitation, to let our hearts, representing our whole person, be placed within His. His heart that burns for others, that burns with love for us, and longs to receive us into heaven. He can't drag us either, as much as He would like to I'm sure. So it's for us to place ourselves in His care. To place our heart in His heart, that we might love like He loves. And so we offer this prayer, and again the Church offers a plenary indulgence to those that offer this prayer on this feast. It's a wonderful grace to offer this prayer. And so I offer it with you and on your behalf and encourage you to allow the words that are spoken to truly resonate within your hearts. 

Most sweet Jesus, Redeemer of the human race, look down upon us humbly prostrate before you. We are yours, and yours we wish to be; but to be more surely united with you, behold each one of us freely consecrates himself today to your Most Sacred Heart. Many indeed have never known you; many, too, despising your precepts, have rejected you. Have mercy on them all, most merciful Jesus, and draw them to your Sacred Heart.  

Be King, O Lord, not only of the faithful who have never forsaken you, but also of the prodigal children who have abandoned you; grant that they may quickly return to their Father's house, lest they die of wretchedness and hunger.  

Be King of those who are deceived by erroneous opinions, or whom discord keeps aloof, and call them back to the harbor of truth and the unity of faith, so that soon there may be but one flock and one Shepherd.  

Grant, O Lord, to your Church assurance of freedom and immunity from harm; give tranquility of order to all nations; make the earth resound from pole to pole with one cry: Praise to the divine Heart that wrought our salvation; to it be glory and honor for ever. Amen.

What Can I Do? - Homily for November 6

St. Jose Sanchez del Rio

Readings for Sunday, November 6/ 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time:
2 Maccebees 7:1-2, 9-14
Psalm 17
2 Thessalonians 2:16-3:5
Luke 20:27-38

This weekend's set of readings begins with readings from the second book of Maccabees which is a
noteworthy book for us. It's one of the latest written, was only about 150 years before the life of Christ whereas some of the other books date back to more than 1000 years before the life of Christ. And so it shows to us how the Jewish faith had experienced some growth, change and development as well as cultural experiences. We see what was taking place was a persecution - the people were being persecuted on account of their faith. What the seven brothers show us today, in the abbreviated account of their martyrdom, is that if we hold to our faith, it will cost us something. These were the martyrs of the Old Testament, but the same is said of the martyrs of the New Testament - that if we hold fast to Jesus Christ, it will cost us. 

Jose was a young boy - you may have heard his story before as I have preached about it. He was one who wasn't really alive in his faith, just like most of the boys in his town. They had a town priest and from time to time they would pick on him, throw things at him, make jokes - wasn't very serious about it. Jose began to experience a conversion of his own heart and began to draw close to the priest as the priest began to take Jose under his wing to teach him the things of the faith. Jose was still a little far away from the Lord though, he didn't have that dramatic, living gift of faith, but he was getting there. The time began when the Church where Jose lived began to be persecuted. To be a priest in your clerics meant that you could be shot on the spot. If you celebrated Mass, you could be shot. If you attended Mass, you could be shot. There was no catechism, no sacraments, n -o faith in the public forum according to the law of the land. A number of people began to rebel against this, desiring to live, express and practice their faith. Jose was among their number. As he began to understand the importance of faith and what the lack of it meant for him and his people. He joined a group of "rebels" - Catholics who wanted to remain Catholic and live their faith, to have the freedom to practice it in the public square. Jose was ultimately captured and tortured. The soles of his feet were cut off, and he was marched across town ... to a grave that was dug. It had all the dirt and the hole ready to go, and at the head of the grave were his parents and his godfather. And they said, "Jose, all you have to do is deny Jesus. You don't even have to mean it, you just have to say it. Just deny Jesus and you can go home. This will end, the suffering will stop, you can go be with your parents, your godfather, your family and your friends again." And Jose looked at them, and then his executors, and said "Viva Cristo Rey! Long live Christ the King!" and he was killed on the spot. With his last bit of energy, in the dirt on the ground ahead of him, he drew a small cross as a testament to his faith. Jose was 14 years old when he died, and it was less than 100 years ago in Mexico. Not in a land far, far away in a time long, long ago. A lot of times we think that the martyrs of the Church were way back, but as Pope St. John Paul II, Pope Benedict XVI and now Pope Francis have also proclaimed and try to draw our attention to is that in the last 100 years, the Church has seen more people martyred for the faith the previous 1800 years combined. To be a Christian and cling to Jesus Christ is to know that it will cost us something. 

For many people today it costs blood. We pray not that it will be the same for us. But even if it doesn't cost us blood, it costs us something else. The story of Jose is one that I love, I'm fascinated by the gift of faith that was bestowed upon that man especially at such a tender age. but what strikes me even more is the reading from Maccabees this weekend. Jose had a dramatic experience; it was something that he had to deny Jesus, verbally at least. Even if he didn't believe it in his heart, he had to verbally say, "I renounce Jesus." That's a big thing for a Christian. What the Maccabee brothers experienced was something much smaller. It was the desire of God that the Jewish people not partake of pork, and the only thing that was asked of them, seven brother martyrs in front of their mother (whom they saved for last to watch them all die - shows you the wickedness of it all); all they had to do was eat a little pork. They didn't have to renounce their God. They didn't have to worship other gods. They just had to eat a little bit of pork. And it got me thinking as I was praying with that vision, that understanding of just how much they were willing to go just to uphold the smallest of laws of their faith. 

Who among us on a Good Friday - one of the two days of the year that the Church invites us to fast or abstain from meat - who of us when presented with a gun to our head and a steak in front of us would not take a bite. Think about it. Who among us? I'd be willing to pick up a fork and a knife and start cutting. There's always confession, right? But seriously. We laugh, but that's exactly what the Maccabean brothers did, and their mother .... We get the abbreviated form of the story. There was seven brothers and all seven of them all said something. And you would think the mother would say, "Just eat the pork!" But instead the mother said, "Honor us. Lay down your life." Imagine watching all seven of your children die, and you encouraging them on account of faith, for pork. How seriously do we take our faith these days? How quickly we are willing to fall away and abandon anything and everything that our faith teaches us to say a little hair on our hide. How quick we can be to cast off Jesus even in the small ways for the sake of a little comfort. 

I would like to think that whenever the big times come that I could persevere and follow Jesus - that if someone came to me, put that gun to my head and said choose Christ or Jesus, I would like to be able to say that I would choose Jesus. But I'm not really sure, and the reason I'm not sure is because in the last several months, I think I've made 7 a.m. Mass at the Church on time once. Once. Seven o'clock Mass. I prefer the comfort of my bed and a few more minutes of sleep than to get up for the love of Christ, for His people and be at Mass on time. And that's my job, it's my vocation ... I literally laid down on the cathedral floor for that - to offer Mass. I can sit in front of the TV and watch the World Series until midnight and be perfectly in tune, but you put me in front of the Blessed Sacrament after 9 p.m. and I'm gone in three minutes. Where is my love for Jesus? Am I willing to suffer for Him? Am I willing to be inconvenienced for Him? And are you? It's the simple things: to have another drinks or not, to have a little more food or not. Sunday Mass .. meh. Holy days of obligation ... the Lord understands, I'm busy. I have things going on. And those are big things. What about the little things? The course of prayer throughout our day, to be with Jesus Christ even for a few moments of prayer, and how often I, myself, am busy about the other things than about the things of the Lord. It's easier to play on the computer or play with a cat than it is to visit with Christ. 

There is a little sign above my desk that I put there on purpose that I try to remember, but too often I forget. It's a quote from Sirach that says, "When you come to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for trials." It's the reminder that when I come to serve Jesus, it's supposed to cost me something; it's supposed to be uncomfortable. It's supposed to be difficult sometimes; it's supposed to feel like a cross because it means we are in union with Jesus. Jesus taking on flesh wasn't a pleasant thing for Him - it was a cross, it was humiliation, suffering, sorrow, ultimately was pain, rejection and loneliness at the last hour, and He did it for love of us. The question is: What can I do for love for Him? And what can you?

Giving and Preparing

Readings for Sunday, December 13/ 3rd Sunday of Advent:

Zephaniah 3:14-18

Isaiah 12:2-6

Philippians 4:4-7

Luke 3:10-18

***This is a shorter version of the actual homily text I preached, but for the sake of posting something … here it is.***

The Gospel this weekend challenges us quite clearly – if we have two cloaks, give one to someone without one, and if we have food do the same. It’s a call to recognize the gifts we have received and to share them with those in need. The Lord commands us to do these things – they are not nice suggestions or counsels for some people in the Body of Christ. It is a command for each and all to share our gifts for the building up of the Church and the world. St. Paul reminds us in his letter to the Corinthians: “What do you possess that you did not first receive?” and if we have received them as gifts, ought we not to share them?

As a concrete response to this Gospel call to share with others, I want to invite each of you to bring a grocery bag of food to Mass next week for us to donate to our local food pantry. We’ve traditionally had the food basket out for the fall each year but following the emphasis of Pope Francis upon the corporal work of mercy of feeding the hungry, we will now keep it out all year round for us to continue to support the food pantry. To this also we will add our newly repainted state of St. Anthony and a little ‘poor box’ for donations to the needy in our parish community. I thank you in advance for your generosity.

My second invitation for you is to spend a bit of time reflecting on your gifts throughout this coming week. In the Gospel John is approached by a tax collectors, soldiers, and many others and asked what they ought to do in response to the call to prepare the way for the Lord’s coming. The response for each was a bit different depending on their own labors and reminds us that the Lord invites us most often to serve Him in the places where we are already present. Simply put, God has given us all specific gifts and brought us to certain places for some specific reason. So what gifts might He be seeking to use in you for the good of others? And think outside the box. Can you sew? There are ways to serve in the altar society but also others in our community. Are you creative in decorating? Use it to help others who don’t have the gift. Are you a social butterfly? Use that to bring people to the Lord or to be a pleasant face to welcome them when they’re at church. Are you good at planning activities or running them? There are places for you. Do you have a great love of our faith? Start a small prayer group or Bible study. Do you have a strong back or construction skills? Put that at the service of others who are in need of them. If you have extra food or clothes or things around the house, consider donating them. Are you struggling with not being able to do very much because of health or age? Pray! Prayer is the engine that keeps the parish running and a vital gift in any community. These are just a few of thousands of options that the Lord has graced us with. So the question is what are your gifts? What is it that the Lord might be inviting you to put at the service of others and who might that person or persons be?

The fascinating thing about this command of Jesus Christ to give of ourselves is that while it might seem to be difficult, it is actually a means of teaching us where to find true joy. May we have the grace to follow His word and rejoice in knowing the nearness of Christ as we serve Him in those in need.

Come, Lord Jesus. Come, O source of joy. Come, O Come, Emmanuel.

The Body

Readings for Sunday, February 22/ 1st Sunday of Lent:
Genesis 9:8-15
Psalm 25:4-9
1 Peter 3:18-22
Mark 1:12-15

Paragraph 1213 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us “Holy Baptism is the basis of the whole Christian life, the gateway to life in the Spirit (vitae spiritualis ianua), and the door which gives access to the other sacraments. Through Baptism we are freed from sin and reborn as sons of God; we become members of Christ, are incorporated into the Church and made sharers in her mission: ‘Baptism is the sacrament of regeneration through water and in the word.’”

Baptism is the basis of the whole Christian life.

As we begin this season of Lent, this time of renewal in the Church as a whole and in each of her members, it seems appropriate that the first reading we hear is that of Noah, the ancient symbol of baptism. The section we just heard comes at the end of the great flood, when the Lord made the covenant with Noah. That covenant was of great importance because it was much more than a simple contract, it was the creation of a sacred family bond that brought us into the Divine family. When this happened later with Abraham it was sealed by Abraham cutting an animal in half, laying it on the ground, then walking through it with the torch that represented God. By doing so they were each saying, ‘If I break the covenant, may this be done to me,’ pointing to the slain animal. God has kept faithful to the covenant with us. It is we who over and over again choose to turn away from Him and break the covenant. Yet He takes us back each time and never tires of doing so.  

As we begin this season of Lent, we call to mind those ways where we have broken the covenant relationship with our Father and seek to come back to Him, to be renewed in Him. In his Lenten Message for this year, Pope Francis invited each of us to take a look at one specific reality in the life of the Church and of specific souls and it was this: indifference. Going back to the family analogy, when we welcome a new person into our family, whether by marriage or by birth, we usually have parties to celebrate it. But do we do that each and every time we see that particular person? No. It would get old quick and, frankly, rather expensive. We celebrate the initial arrival but over time we get used to the other and things normalize. But the problem Pope Francis point out is that sometimes this can lead us to become comfortable, complacent, indifferent. We begin to look less at the other person and more to ourselves, then we can quickly become less concerned about the other and become cold-hearted. This is what he is inviting the Church to reflect upon and he provides three specific areas upon which to reflect: the Church, the parish, and the self. And since we begin the Easter season with a renewal of our baptismal vows, I’d like to spend the next couple of weeks looking at these three aspects through the lens of baptism.

The first reflection is indifference toward the Church. The important thing to note is that Pope Francis isn’t thinking about just the hierarchical structure and the legalistic norms of the Church, he’s thinking more along the lines of St. Paul analogy of the Church as the Body of Christ, a body that lives and grows, and, unfortunately in some members, dies. It’s a living body that is intimately connected together, exemplified by St. Paul’s words: “If one member suffers, all suffer together.” The First Letter of St. Peter reminds us that baptism is “not a removal of dirt from the body.” If that’s what we think baptism is, then we’ve missed the boat. Baptism, as the Catechism said, is being made part of the Body of Christ. And it’s not just that we’re being put alongside others, as if what you do doesn’t affect me and vice versa. We are being connected to one another and to every other baptized person who has every existed. We are part of something MUCH greater than we can even imagine and in a way that has eternal consequences. How so? Because when one member suffers, all suffer together. Therefore, as members of the Body of Christ, we have an obligation to help others. Think about it this way. If you’re hammering a nail into the wall and accidentally hit your thumb, what happens? You immediately pull it back and hold it with the other hand. Or when we see football players and other athletes out on the field and they hurt a knee or something, what happens? They immediately, unconsciously, wrap up around it to protect it. This is what it means to be members of the Body of Christ. When some member in the Body hurts, it is for the rest of the Body to respond with prayer and offerings of grace, and sometimes physical aid, in order to bring protection, consolation, and peace. So where is the body hurting?

We can look at the obvious places like the Middle East and Africa, where ISIS and Boko Haram are reaking havoc on Christians, making martyrs daily. We can look farther east, in places like China where the Church is being persecuted not so much by violence as by governments trying to control the Church and tell her what to do rather than look to the Holy Father or their own bishops. And it doesn’t have to be persecution at all. We can look north. I was talking to my dad yesterday morning and he was telling me about the outrageous amounts of snow they’re getting and the temperatures being so low for so long. Then he asked if I had seen that Niagara Falls had frozen over. I shook my head in disbelief but he described it and sure enough, they are! In the cold we can see another part of the Body in need of help. Just as when we experience hurricanes and look sometimes for help from others, the same applies here. We may not always be able to do something about the situation – a smashed thumb just needs time to heal and usually a little ice – but we are invited to respond with some sign of care and concern for the member in need.

If we take Jesus just as a nice example to follow, says Pope Francis, then we have missed the point. He wasn’t just a nice teacher. He is our God who invites us to become one with Him, in Him, through Him by receiving and living out the sacrament of Baptism. Jesus was tempted for forty days in the desert for us, for you. What gift are we offer to Him this week to bring consolation to His aching members?

Stop, Drop, and Roll

Readings for Sunday, February 8/ 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Job 7:1-4, 6-7
Psalm 147:1-6
1 Corinthians 9:16-19, 22-23
Mark 1:29-39

What a joyful first reading we have this week, huh? Beautiful weather outside, our stained glass window back in at the chapel, and then…Job. Thankfully we know the end of the story turn out all for the good, but it still feels so heavy in the moment. In praying with the scriptures this week I was struck by the words those words though: My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope. What struck me wasn’t the hopeless tone but the passing of time. How often have we all heard or said ‘the older you get, the quicker time flies by!’? And isn’t it true? Often it is the case that things happen before we’re even prepared for it and we’re left looking back wondering how it all passed so quickly. Pretty frequently when I’m driving I’ll start thinking about something and before I know it the place I was driving to is a half mile behind me. When I’m driving I can make a u-turn and go back to the spot, but in time we simply have to resolve to be better prepared next time.

One of the times that I almost annually have to make that resolution is in the celebration of the Lent. It seems like every year I only realize it’s Lent after two weeks, start really doing my penances in the third week and then it’s half finished already! Last year I was playing at a golf tournament for the parish school in Paulina and they had food and drinks at the various holes. We pulled up to one hole and I started feasting on the stuff in front of me and looked around to see everyone staring at me rather shocked. One parishioner gently said, “Um, Father, that’s a pulled pork sandwich… and it’s Friday.” I know I’m not the only one either. This is because it’s hard to transition into the season so quickly. For those who remember the liturgy before the Second Vatican Council, you might recall the season of Septuagesima, which was a three week period prior to Ash Wednesday that helped the community to begin to transition into Lent so that folks were actually ready to go when time came around.

While we do not have that season in the Ordinary Form calendar, we can still employ the tactic of preparing ahead of time and beginning the transition into Lent. So I want to challenge you to join me in a simple three part activity this week to prepare for Lent. The formula is simple and we all know it from another context: Stop, Drop and Roll.

The first piece we need to do is take some time this week to just stop doing stuff. Carve out a bit of time – 20 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour, whatever – and sit with the Lord. In the Gospel passage we just heard we saw a description of Jesus taking time from the craziness of His ministry to be in union with the Father. Imagine how overwhelming things must have been just on a human level to know that everywhere He went, Jesus was surrounded by people in serious illness looking for Him to a miracle. How town after town probably saw repetitions of the scene today where crowds block the exits of the home where He stayed. And yet He made the time to go away for private time in prayer. So we must follow His lead and stop everything else in attempts to rest with the Father.

In that time of rest, we don’t just sit there twiddling our thumbs. We speak with our Father and seek some understand of how He is inviting us to grow this Lent. Every one of us has something in our life that we could improve about our self; something we could do better, do more, or stop doing. So whatever it is that’s keeping us from becoming better people – drop it. Whatever that thing is that God is inviting us to improve – pray better, serve others more, sin less, grow in a specific virtue, etc. – focus on that particular thing for the whole season of Lent and find ways to make it happen.

Which leads us to the third thing: roll. Once we’ve taken time to rest with the Lord and discerned what it is that we ought to address this Lent, it’s time for the most important piece: we have to actually put it into action; we have to roll it out. A few weeks back we had our clergy formation days and part of it was on eating healthily. They passed out little three-partitioned plates and it had printed on it the food that went there. In the large part covering half the plate it said ‘fruits and vegetables’ and in the other two smaller portion ‘proteins’ and ‘grains’. While I was a bit confused how I would fit my whole steak into a small portion or how I was going to stomach so many greens, it was incredibly helpful to see what it should look like. In stark contrast was my health plan of the past 10 years that was so vague that it usually ended with me at McDonalds or Canes promising ‘tomorrow I’ll eat a salad’ and never following through on that resolution. When we have a desire to do something, it must be a concrete, measurable goal or we’re almost guaranteed not to do it.

‘I’m going to pray more this Lent.’ Awesome! How long are you going to pray? What are you going to pray? When are you going to pray?

‘I’m going to do some service for others.’ Fantastic! Who are you serving? When are you serving them? How are you going to do so?

‘I’m going to quit this bad habit.’ Great. What are you going to do instead? What are you going to do when tempted? Who is going to help you stay true to the commitment?

Easter is an incredible season, but it is only incredible because it is the fruit of the labor in Lent. Let’s make this Lent special. Live it with the intensity you would if you knew it was your last Lent ever. God has great things in store for us, dear friends. Let us take some time this week and hear the beginning of the plan.

Suffering Makes Me Me

Readings for Sunday, January 25/ 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Jonah 3:1-5, 10
Psalm 25:4-9
1 Corinthians 7:29-31
Mark 1:14-20

It’s nice to be home after a couple of weeks moving around, and especially after such an intense week as this last one has been. Last Sunday morning I departed from Baton Rouge as part of a bus group of over 450 people headed toward Washington, D.C. for the annual March for Life held there on January 22. It was a phenomenal trip with many graces and that is because the trip is a pilgrimage and not simply a nice vacation away from the worries of parish life. At the beginning of the trip, we pray a prayer with all of the youth on the buses that reminds us that we are pilgrims and not tourist. It includes such things as: when someone else grabs the last of the food I want, Lord help me remember that I’m a pilgrim, not a tourist. When someone takes the spot I wanted to sit… When someone is always late and I’m on time… When things don’t go according to schedule… etc. All of these various scenarios are mentioned to emphasize that pilgrims suffer through things and unite them with the Lord, where tourists might simply try to make things more comfortable and avoid the suffering.

With this little prayer completed, everyone realizes from the start that the pilgrimage is one that will involve suffering and self-denial in some way. To follow up that prayer, we include a short talk on ‘offering it up,’ the traditional Catholic practice of uniting our sufferings to those of Jesus Christ and knowing that He will make use of them for some good in our soul or the souls of others. As the bus youth minister I was in charge of both of these and had the joy of putting them into practice almost immediately as the DVD player on our bus wouldn’t play the DVD we intended to show and which was foundational to the rest of the trip and on top of that the AC quit working, leaving us in a nice extra warm bus on the way up north. We arrived in Hanceville, AL that afternoon for the celebration of Holy Mass and I had the privilege of offering it and preaching to half of the pilgrimage group. I spoke about the Divine Will and how sometimes despite our best efforts things don’t go as planned and we need to be open to God changing things on us during the trip and that we are invited to submit to that and joyfully follow where the Lord leads. A few minutes later we found ourselves in the parking lot preparing to head off to DC when we discover that at this point our DVD had broken, our AC had broken, and now the whole bus had broken! I sat there saying to the kids (and to myself!) ‘It’s okay. God has a plan here. Like I said in Mass, we’re not in control and we simply have to roll with what He unveils for us.’ And so the other 8 buses of our entourage rolled out and we stayed put waiting for our repairman.

The six hours that we waited gave us plenty of time to pray, play games, get to know each other and sing songs, including our own rendition of a familiar classic: “The wheels on the bus they stay, stay stay”, “The emergency lights glow red, red, red”, and so on. What struck me, though, was that in the midst of suffering the youth responded with an attitude of joy and holy resignation to what God was doing. The adults struggled a bit, but the young people went with the flow just as we had advised. At 11pm we found ourselves unloading and reloading onto a different bus. At 6am we found ourselves doing the same thing again as we reached our bus to be used the rest of the week. And in the end, that setback and suffering we enduring of having to change plans, buses, and everything in between became our glory. We rejoiced in it and became one of the most tight-nit and prayerful groups.

I know that’s a lot of story and not much homily, but I mention it because it was my lived experience that brought me to a well for reflection throughout the week on a single point: our response to suffering makes us who we are. Every one of us can name the many things that have happened in our lives that were a cross in some way, and chances are those same places are where radical growth or change happened. We can see it across the board in any type of suffering: physical suffering, emotional distress, loss of loved ones, spiritual struggles, temptations, mental trials, and much more. Every one of those things is a place where we encountered a cross and had a choice to pick it up and walk or to flee from it in search of comfort. Our choice changes things.

The end of the trip was the cap and summation of my reflections on suffering through the week as on the bus ride home we watched the movie The Giver. I don’t know if you’ve read the book or seen the movie, but it was fascinating to me. The premise of it is that a society saw the pain suffered by humanity and sought to be freed from it, so they created a special society in which they eliminated all that might cause pain. They minimized differences, inequality and injustices to make things uniform. This makes sense. But they also took away other things like art, music, and dance. They limited freedom and personal touch. They dulled emotion and the capacity to love. In the name of being freed from pain, they removed all that makes the human person truly human! In a very real sense we can say that to be human is to suffer because to be human is to love and to love is to suffer. This sounds like a big circle, but the truth is that God is love itself and love is self-giving. The Father sent the Son and permitted His death for us. The Son permits His humiliation and death. And the Spirit pains Himself by remaining in hearts that often desire to have nothing to do with Him. While we believe that God doesn’t suffer like humans do, there is a sort of self-sacrificial suffering that is present in the Blessed Trinity and if we are invited into the life of the Trinity by our baptism, then it makes sense that we are invited to a deeper suffering than most would have.

If I lost you there, let me attempt to clarify. God is love, total self-gift. The more we love, which entails suffering, the more we become who we are created to be. And so the invitation here is threefold:

First, we must recognize our suffering. Sometimes we experience pains or crosses in our life but fail to name them such. We see them as inconveniences and many other things, but they are crosses. So what is the cross you bear? More than likely it is several.

Second, find ways to respond to it. A book club I’m part of sends a book each month and each title addresses some specific topic but in the end they are all guide on suffering well. It might be depression, grief, anger, temptations to sin, lack of faith, problems in prayer, but they all provide means to working through a particular cross. So when you name your cross, look for proven ways to help walk with it.

And lastly, don’t walk with it alone. Unite your crosses to Christ Jesus, Who has power to make all things fruitful and can use your suffering to build up the kingdom. There’s no special formula. You just say, ‘Lord, I unite my sufferings to yours. Please make them fruitful.’ Or something to that effect. The genuineness of prayer is more important than the words.

Suffering makes us who we are. Suffering makes us human. Do not fear the crosses that come your way, but take them up and bear them with Christ, knowing that He is with you, shaping you and saving you by your ‘yes’ to His will.

Faith's Mid-Term Exam

Readings for Sunday, October 19/ 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Isaiah 45:1, 4-6
Psalm 96:1, 3-5, 7-10
1 Thessalonians 1:1-5
Matthew 22:15-21

God acts in strange ways sometimes. One day I was at the seminary in the chapel and felt convicted that I needed to simplify my life a bit, so I prayed for the grace to spend less time on the computer, internet, and my phone. I concluded my prayer, went upstairs, sat down in my chair and swung around to work at my desk. In this swing I hit my knee on the desk, causing my solid glass picture frame to come crashing down directly on the screen of my laptop. Prayer answered! Not how I had expected and much more expensively than anticipated, but prayer answered.

For the past couple of weeks there has been a Synod of Bishops (a gathering of Cardinals, Bishops, lay men and women, and various professionals from across the globe) in Rome to discuss “The Pastoral Challenges of the Family in the Context of Evangelization.” That’s a mouthful of a title, but the basic idea seems great – how can the Church help families today to thrive in life and in faith. And so they had hours and hours of discussions on a whole host of topics, but interestingly enough, when the secular media read the document that was released half-way through the Synod as a summary of their discussions something entirely different came up – ‘The Church is Okay with Gays!’, ‘Ground-breaking changes in the Church!’ and ‘Church finally coming out of dark ages!’ And my first thoughts were basically (pardon my language) ‘What the hell does any of that have to do with the family!?’ Nothing! And with those announcements came a great uproar from all sides. Some greatly in favor of such changes and other in shock because they Church cannot make such changes. But in the midst of all of this, we have to realize one thing: this is a test. Do we trust God to work through all of this? It’s a test.

We don’t often think about God testing us these days. It’s not part of our concept of God and yet it is very much God’s concept of Himself. It happens all throughout the Scriptures, over and over again; testing the love of the people for God. We see one instance in our first reading from Isaiah about ‘the anointed, Cyrus.’ Such a description would have caused a great scandal among the Israelites because the anointed was the Messiah, the savior of God’s people, but Cyrus wasn’t even a Jew. He wasn’t even a believer! “It is I who arm you, though you know me not,” the Lord says of him. Talk about a test – the savior of the people chosen by God wouldn’t even believe in that God himself? Wow.

And it’s not just the Lord who puts us to the test, right? Sometimes we put God to the test, though we aren’t necessary supposed to do so. But that’s what happens in the Gospel this week. For the past few weeks, Jesus has been on the offensive, asking questions and speaking parables. But this week they come after Him with questions, beginning with that of the tax to Caesar. It was a good question because either way He answered it meant rebellion; to pay the tax was to rebel against the Jewish culture and apparently acknowledge an earthly ‘god’ in Casear, to not pay the tax was to rebel against Caesar and surely merit death. And to this quandary Jesus poses the question about whose image is there. In the coin, we see the image of Caesar and are challenged to give to Caesar what is his, but the next step is the catch – but we must give to God what belongs to God. The coin was in Caesar’s image, but what is made in God’s image? Us – you and me. And that’s the problem.

It’s hard to ‘give to God what is God’s’ because means that we must give God our entire self. Our mind, our heart, our will, our desires, our hopes, our dreams. It goes against one of our deepest desires, which is to have control. To have control means we can have some comfort in knowing what to expect of the future, we can put our trust in our own work and not have to interact with anyone higher (or so we think). So the real question here is do we trust God that much? Each night for the Church’s official Night Prayer there is a response that echoes the Psalms and the Lord Jesus on the Cross which says, “Into your hands, Lord, I commend my spirit.” I had prayed those words well over a thousand times but then one night I prayed them and looked at the crucifix and realized what was in the hands of the Lord: nails. “Into your hands, Lord, I commend my spirit.” Into your hands I place my life, my will, ever wish I have for the future, there to be nailed with your hands to the Cross and there to die, trusting that the resurrection reality you have in store for me is that much greater.

With the Synod there were three main responses and to each of them the invitation is to trust. For those who are afraid that the Church is making all sorts of seismic shifts and changes, it is an opportunity to trust that the Lord who gave the Church the Holy Spirit to lead us in all truth and promised that the gates of hell shall not prevail against her will be faithful to us and protect us from the influence of the evil one. For those who are excited about the prospect of radical change in the Church, it is an opportunity to trust that the Lord who gave us the law of Love 2000 years ago has not abandoned us and that the Law that sometimes feels harsh, or exclusive is meant not to weigh us down but to lift us up into heaven. And for those who have no concern one way or the other, this time is a chance to trust that all of these things being discussed and the decisions to be made have a great importance in the life of the Church and the world.

God works in strange ways sometimes, but in those strangest of times we need only remember that it is likely a test to measure the extent of our love for the Lord. It is a test to see just how much we are willing to place our will into the crucified hands of Jesus. It is a test to see how firm we our in awareness of the Spirit’s action all around us. As we come to receive Holy Communion today it is an opportunity to unite ourselves to God not only in the flesh, but also to let our will become more conformed to His. Do we love God that much? 

Bridges

Royal Gorge Bridge in Colorado

Readings for Sunday, May 18/ 5th Sunday of Easter:
Acts 6:1-7
Psalm 33:1-2, 4-5, 18-19
1 Peter 2:4-9
John 14:1-12

I’ve always loved bridges. They fascinate me because of their function but also, often, because of their beauty. The highest bridge in the U.S. over Royal Gorge in Colorado, the longest rope bridge east of the Mississippi, and double-decker bridge leading into Cincinnati, and the numerous bridges sprinkled all across South Louisiana each in their own way give me pause to contemplate something incredible as travel over them – the ability to unite things that seem utterly separate.

That concept, though I never put it in such words, is what drew me to consider the vocation of the priesthood. In fact, in the early Church, the priest was often referred to by the Latin term ‘pontifex,’ which means ‘bridge-builder,’ because every priest is supposed to build bridges to unite humanity with the Divine. It’s the whole nature of the priesthood really and they do it by offering sacrifices. The role of the priest in the ancient Israelite community was to offer sacrifices and prayers to God on behalf of the people to keep them safe in His care. The ordained priest today does a similar action by offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and prescribed prayers each day to permit people to draw into communion with the Lord. The priest is a bridge-builder and the sacrifices that the priest offers are the means to building those bridges and strengthening them.

But the thing is this: it’s not just me and other ordained priests who are called to be bridge-builders. All of us are called to be bridge-builders and the Lord is inviting us to stop today to contemplate how good of a job we are doing.

Now here is where we get a bit theological, but stick with me! In First Peter we just heard of a people that is “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own.” We are that people! This phrasing was originally intended for the Jewish people but with the coming of Jesus is universalized and applied to every person who receives the gift of Baptism. Our baptismal ritual reminds us that every person baptized in Christ Jesus is anointed priest, prophet, and king. Christ Jesus is the One High Priest but because we are members of the Body of Christ by baptism, we participate also in His priesthood. Ordained priests do so in a different way, but we all participate in the priesthood of Jesus. But what does that priesthood look like? 

We hear the answer in the Preface before the Eucharistic Prayer today: Jesus Christ comes among us as the priest, the altar, and the lamb of sacrifice. This is significant because before Jesus, the priest and the sacrificial offering were distinct from one another - the priest offered a lamb, bull, wheat, etc. - but Jesus changes everything and makes the priest himself the offering, he is the one sacrificed. And the same with us. St. Paul put it this way in the Letter to the Romans: “I urge you, therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God.” (12:1) To put it simply, the sacrifice that all of the baptized members of the Church are called to offer God in a priestly manner is their whole self: we give ourselves to God in offering, we give Him everything that we have, everything that we are, everything that we desire, everything that we fear, our whole life with nothing held back. That is what God desires of us. Our whole life is supposed to be a priestly act, an act of sacrifice that works to build up bridges between those around us and the God that loves us all.

We're hopefully all working as bridge-builders to some degree now, but for every one of us, myself included, there is still room to grow and become even better at drawing people to God. And there are three concrete things we can do to make that happen.

First – to use the words of Pope St. Pius X, “Don’t pray AT Holy Mass. Pray THE Holy Mass.” The best way that we can be better instruments of bringing people to Jesus is to get closer to Jesus our self and the place where that happens is here at Mass. If we enter into this celebration more deeply, things change. If we listen to the prayers and pray them for ourselves, if we spend time with the readings and question where God is speaking to us, if we offer our needs and the needs of others at the appropriate times in the Mass, we will be changed and that will change others. If we want to build bridges to bring people to God, there's not better way than to celebrate the most miraculous bridge in Eucharistic Holy Communion.

Second – sacrifice for others. There are a variety of ways to do this. We can offer a sacrifice of prayers for people and spend time praying for them. We can fast or abstain from food, drink, entertainment, or some luxury for conversion of others. We can offer up a sacrifice of our desire and do something with or for them so that they can see love in action. God alone changes hearts, but He often waits for us to ask Him to do so. So let us ask and offer some gift to help the bridge come together.

Third – be willing to be used. Sometimes one of the best ways to be a bridge between God and humanity is to simply invite people to get closer to God. This can be an invite to join you at Mass, return to confession, gathering for prayer as friends, or scripture sharing with a group. It can be by talking about your faith to encourage them in theirs. It can be a whole host of things. But often we can shrink back in fear of what others might think, say, feel, or do if we bring God into the picture. Be not afraid of what might happen but remember that God often speaks to us through others and that sometimes He wants to speak through us as well. 

I always loved bridges. But as much as I love marveling at them, it is much more beautiful to be one ourselves. Countless others of our family and friends and helped us draw near to God by building bridges to connect us to Him. May God grant us today the grace to continue building bridges for others so we can truly be a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people all his own.

HWP: Prayer for Life

Today, January 22nd, is the 41st Anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision that legalized abortion in our country. Since then, over 55,000,000 of the most vulnerable people among us have been slain in the name of choice rather than cherished as the gift they are. Let us offer today this prayer from the Roman Missal from the Mass in Thanksgiving for Human Life:

God our Creator, we give thanks to you, who alone have the power to impart the breath of life as you form each of us in our mother's womb; grant, we pray, that we, whom you have made stewards of creation, may remain faithful to this sacred trust and constant in safeguarding the dignity of every human life. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. 

In addition to the prayer, you are invited to join by also offering up some physical mortification (fasting, abstaining, etc.) as an additional sacrifice on behalf of the sins committed and that hearts might be changed to end this evil and heal the wounds it has inflicted upon our nation and world.

Octaves, Novenas, and Pilgrimage, Oh My!

Hello everyone! Tomorrow morning we shall have nine buses of youth from our diocese heading north to attend the March for Life in Washington, D.C. I ask your prayers for our safe travel, for conversion of hearts among our group, and conversion of hearts for the people of our nation, especially those who enact laws, that we might be a people who thirst for God. Additionally, there are some big opportunities for an outpouring of grace in this coming week. 

Beginning on Saturday, January 18, we will celebrate the Octave of Christian Unity (which gains a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions) as well as the 'Nine Days of Prayer, Penance and Pilgrimage' Campaign by the USCCB. These prayers and mortifications are sure to bring many souls to Christ and to win much merit for us in offering them.

For the Octave of Unity

Each day of the Octave the prayer 'Omnipotens Deus' is offered for the particular intention of the day.

January 18: For the return of the "other sheep" to the One Fold of our Lord Jesus Christ.
January 19: For the return of the Eastern Orthodox Christians to communion with the Apostolic See. January 20: For the return of the Anglicans to the authority of the Vicar of Christ.
January 21: For the return of all Protestants throughout the world to the unity of the Catholic Church.
January 22: That Christians in America may be one, in union with the Chair of Saint Peter.
January 23: That lapsed Catholics will return to the Sacraments of the Church.
January 24: That the Jewish people will be converted to the Catholic Faith.
January 25: That missionary zeal will conquer the world for Christ.

Pray: + That they may all be one, as Thou, Father, in me and I in Thee, that they also may be one in us; that the world may believe that Thou hast sent me. I say to thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church.

Let us pray. Almighty and merciful God, who wished to gather the scattered nations into one people through your Son, grant that those who glory in the name of Christians may put aside division and become one in truth and charity, and that all men may be illumined by the true faith and brought together into the fraternal communion of one Church. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

For the Nine Days of Prayer, Penance and Pilgrimage

Each day there are selected readings, prayers for reflection, and invitations to offer penances. As they are rather extensive, I figured simply linking to them would be better. Click HERE to download a copy of the novena in PDF format, download the phone app, receive prayers by email or receive prayers by text message.