Showing posts with label Sin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sin. Show all posts

Monday, February 25, 2019

Becoming Heavenly - Homily for February 24



Readings for Sunday, February 24 / 7th Sunday of Ordinary Time:  1 Samuel 26:2, 7-9, 12-13, 22-23  |  Psalm 103  |  1 Corinthians 15:45-49  |  Luke 6:27-38

Within every baptized person's heart is a battle taking place between the Earthly and the Heavenly parts. Which one is winning in you?

Monday, July 30, 2018

Monday, January 29, 2018

Papal Intentions for February 2018


This month Pope Francis invites us to pray for protection from corruption:

That those who have material, political or spiritual power may resist any lure of corruption. 

While we're at it....

V. Let us pray for Francis, our Pope.
R. May the Lord preserve him, give him life, 
and make him blessed upon the earth, 
and deliver him not up to the will of his enemies.

Our Father... Hail Mary...

O God, Shepherd and Ruler of all Thy faithful people, look mercifully upon Thy servant Francis, whom Thou hast chosen as shepherd to preside over Thy Church. Grant him, we beseech Thee, that by his word and example, he may edify those over whom he hath charge, so that together with the flock committed to him, may he attain everlasting life. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Monday, January 22, 2018

Do We Respect Life? - Homily for January 21



Readings for Sunday, January 21 / 3rd Sunday of Ordinary Time: Jonah 3:1-5, 10  |  Psalm 25  |  1 Corinthians 7:29-31  |  Mark 1:14-20

When Jonah received the call to preach repentance to the people of Nineveh, he refused because 'they' weren't worthy of it. How easy it can be to draw lines between ourselves and others, or even subtly to rank a person or group of people as better or worse than others. In those places where we fail to value the life of every person before, the Lord calls to us: repent!

Sunday, June 25, 2017

The Lord Is With Me - Homily for June 25



Vesting Bishop Provost in preparation for Holy Mass
Readings for Sunday, June 25 / 12th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Jeremiah 20:10-13  |  Psalm 69  |  Romans 5:12-15  |  Matthew 10:26-33

This weekend the Scriptures call to mind the many things which we fear and wrestle with through our week - the attacks from others, the attack from sin, and the attacks of the evil one. In all of this, we need not fear because the Lord is with us. United to Him, He fights for us.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

Corpus Christi: No Mere Symbol - Homily for June 18

Miraculous Host & Blood at Lanciano


The Holy Eucharist is no mere sign or symbol, but is a the true Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ. As Catholics, we must approach this mystery with great attention, reverence, awe, and love. May the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus increase these virtues in us until the day He calls us home!

Monday, April 3, 2017

Lent: How to go to Confession - Homily for April 2



Readings for Sunday, April 2 / 5th Sunday of Lent: Ezekiel 37:12-14  |  Psalm 130  |  Romans 8:8-11  |  John 11:1-45

Sometimes it's the lack of comfort with the words and structure of Confession that the devil uses to keep us away from the Sacrament. So let's hit the nuts and bolts on how to celebrate the Sacrament. Then put it into practice.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

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.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Praying for Scars

Readings for Sunday, June 7/ Corpus Christi:
Exodus 24:3-8
Psalm 116
Hebrews 9:11-15
Mark14:12-16, 22-26

Each weekend we come and profess our faith in the Creed and specifically mention our belief in a resurrection of the body. As we profess such a claim, we refer not to Jesus’ resurrection, but to the belief that one the last day those in the glory of Heaven will receive glorified bodies much like that of Christ. One question I sometimes ponder is whether that body will have scars.

When I look at my body I can see the many scars that have resulted from past wounds. The black line on the tip of the middle finger of my left hand calls to mind the time when a friend had a flat tire in the parking lot at school and after jacking up the car it began to fall off the jack and I, presuming myself to be Superman, tried to hold up the car so it wouldn’t fall. As it fell, because I’m clearly NOT Superman, it cut my hand open. I can look at the scar on my index finger and call to mind the time when I was cutting wood the saw decided to move from wood to flesh in a swift motion. Those and many other scars tell me stories of past events that have since been healed.

This weekend we celebrate Corpus Christi, a feast honoring the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist, dating back to the 12th Century when a miracle happened in which the Host turned into flesh and began to bleed on the altar. The Gospel we just heard recounts that ancient night when the Lord Jesus gave us that great gift saying those blessed words we hear each and every Mass. What strikes me this week is the phrase Jesus uses to describe the cup: ‘my blood of the covenant.’ The disciples present at the meal would have heard in this a phrase that had deep implications. In the first reading we heard about God making a covenant with the Israelites and how Moses takes the blood of an animal and pours some on an altar and then sprinkles the rest upon the people present and this ‘blood of the covenant’ is a seal upon each of them that they are members of the covenant relationship and have now rights, as well as obligations. Parenthetically, the sprinkling rite we do at various points throughout the year has its roots in this ancient symbol and, rather than being the priest’s opportunity to sling water and make people laugh, it reminds us that we too are part of a covenant with God, much like the Israelites of old.

One point that always makes me smile is the response of the Israelites to the reading of the commands of the Law of God: “We will do everything the Lord has told us!” To which I respond in my head: “What a bunch of liars.” You have only to look at the next page to find them going astray, committing sin and following false gods. In fact, that seems to be the pattern of God’s people all throughout history. Over and again, each generation follows the Lord and flees from Him at different times. Even the Apostles follow the same path, as Simon Peter proclaims that he will never deny His Lord and yet does so thrice before sun-up. And are we any different? A thousand times it seems I’ve gone into the confessional and made my act of contrition saying ‘I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more, to avoid the near occasion of sin and to do penance’ and yet within days or hours, there I go back to my same ways. What all of this shows us is that the people who have been united to God by a covenantal bond are not a perfect people, but a wounded people, and the one thing that can fix us is the One who created us: God.

Pope Francis beautifully said once that the Eucharist is not the prize for the good, but the remedy for those in need. Holy Communion isn’t our reward for being good all week. It’s the medicine to heal our souls from the wounds of sin. This is why we have to come every week. Have you seen the commercial where they say “Wouldn’t it be great if one piece of broccoli could prevent cancer? Or one push-up could prevent heart disease?” Well, wouldn’t it be great if we only needed to come to Holy Communion one time and we were made perfect and completely sinless? I don’t know about you, but I’m still waiting for that one to happen. And that’s the point. It’s not a one-and-done type of situation but rather and invitation to receive the Lord Jesus and have Him heal our wounds over time, the same as our body needs, and to continue the work as we continue to fall into our sin.

To prove that I’m not just pulling this out of nowhere, lets take a look at the prayers of the Mass. Each weekend I pray Eucharistic Prayer I, the Roman Canon, and do so for many reasons, one of which is the point I’ve just noted. Near the beginning the priest prays, “Remember, Lord, your servants…” and if you look at the text it includes the phrase “N. and N.” Those two N’s are spots for names because the priest is calling to mind the living for whom he is offering the Mass or praying for particularly. He continues, saying, “and all gathered here, whose faith and devotion are known to you. For them, we offer you this sacrifice of praise, or they offer it for themselves and all who are dear to them.” So we specifically come to offer the sacrifice of the Mass for ourselves and others, and it lists three reasons: “for redemption of their souls, in hope of health and well-being, and paying their homage to you, the eternal God, living and true.” In hope of health and well-being. Healing, both of body and soul, is one of the reasons we come to Mass. It is the way that Christ casts out sin and makes us more and more like Himself, bringing us on the path to holiness and preparing us for the glory of the Kingdom.


Do not be afraid. Don’t hold back asking for graces of healings, thinking they might be too much to ask. Let us turn to Jesus. Let us open our hearts to Him and show Him the wounds from our sin. And let us pray to see the day when our wounds will instead be scars.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Valuing Easter

Readings for Sunday, April 19/ 3rd Sunday of Easter:
Acts 3:13-15, 17-19
Psalm 4:2, 4, 7-9
1 John 2:1-5
Luke 24:35-48

The other day I sat down and watched the movie Matchstick Men, which is about conmen and their work. One of the conmen goes in to speak with a therapist and tells him he’s an antique furniture salesman. At one point the therapist asks if it’s okay that he prop his feet up on a footstool on account of his back trouble. The supposed antique furniture salesman agrees without batting an eye. This goes on for a couple of visits when the therapist finally says, ‘This footstool is an antique of great and for weeks you don’t even seem to mind me propping my feet up, when normal people usually balk at such an idea. So what do you really do?’

This scene struck me because it showed that the conman was exposed because he failed to recognize something that was of great importance, and which he should have known about. Looking around the world today, I see a world full of people – including many Christians – who celebrate Easter but who have no idea of the inherent value of the Resurrection of Christ from the dead. Easter is the day (and season) when we focus especially on the fact that Christ died and rose again, that He conquered death, that He is victorious over sin, that He has opened the gates of Heaven and all humanity is able to enter into the Eternal Heavenly Banquet. But does the value of that really touch our hearts?

In the world today there are two major issues that tend to veil the importance of Easter and make it difficult for us to see the necessity of it in our individual lives. The first is presumption of salvation. I have been to funerals and heard ‘they’re in a better place’ and I wondered in my heart if those speaking actually knew the deceased. The fact is that most of the world today presumes that the nature course of things is that we die and then we immediately go to Heaven. But the Gospel tells us another story. It tells us, instead, that the natural course is that we die and go to Hell if we don’t at least try to follow the commands of the Lord. And yet, every person who dies, whether they’ve ever said a prayer in their life is automatically canonized as a saint in heaven. When we think in such a way, we first rob the individual of prayers that might be helpful for them to get to Heaven if they are in purgatory. And secondly, it harms us because if I know for myself that I don’t have to do anything special to get to Heaven, I very likely wont. I’ll settle for what’s comfortable and coast in. But again, this is not compatible with the Gospel invitation to enter the narrow gate and walk the way of the cross to find glory in eternity.

Connected to this is a loss of a sense of sin. Things that we do routinely today would have been thought unimaginable 75 years ago. And things that are sinful but not ‘major sins’ aren’t even concerns for the majority of the world. ‘It’s just who I am’ is the common response. And yet, if we fail to see the impact that sin has upon our lives – disconnecting us from God, grace, and salvation – then we fail to recognize the gift that Jesus Christ has given us in conquering sin. I find it interesting that so much of the Easter season talks about sin. St. Peter today said, “Repent, therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be wiped away.”  St. John told us, “I am writing this to you that you may not commit sin.” And Jesus trumps them both, describing how the Christ was to come, suffer, die, and be raised so that repentance for the forgiveness of sins would be preached. Sin is at the foundation of the Resurrection. If sin didn’t exist, Christ wouldn’t have had to take on our flesh, suffer His Passion, die and rise from the dead. But sin does exist and so we need a savior.


 This is the Good News of the Easter season: that although all of humanity is undeserving of eternal life, but rather deserving of eternal death on account of our sins, the Lord Jesus has come among us and died in our place and opened the gates of Heaven for us to be able to enter in with Him and reign forever with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  St. Augustine once beautifully noted, “God created us without us, but He cannot save us without us.” He invites us to take part in the plan He has made. Basically, it’s like hitting jackpot at the casino. If you just kept the printout saying how much you won it won’t do you any good; you have to cash it in. In much the same way, the Lord has purchased our souls for eternal life. We simply have to walk the way with Him and because of the Resurrection we can do so. May God grant us the grace this day to cast out sin from our lives and rejoice in the gift of freedom that Christ has won for us.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

HWP: St. Peter Nolasco

Today is the feast of St. Peter Nolasco, who, alongside St. Raymond of Penyafort, founded the Mercedarians. This community was formed with a specific intention of freeing many of the Christians who had been taken captive by the Moors, going so far even as to take a vow to exchange their life for those of the captives they sought to free. Today there are many still in chains for their faith, as well as many trapped in the chains of sin. Let us pray to St. Peter that they might experience freedom according to God's Holy Will as we pray...

A Prayer to St. Peter Nolasco
O God, St. Peter was divinely guided by the example of Your own love to enrich Your Church with a new community dedicated to the ransoming of imprisoned Christians. Release us from the slavery of sin through his intercession so that we may enjoy the eternal freedom of our home in heaven.

Friday, December 26, 2014

It Doesn't Belong There

Readings for Christmas Masses:
Vigil Mass
Midnight Mass
Mass at Dawn
Mass during the Day

If you watch social media or late night TV you have likely seen or heard of the SNL skit that parodies the ‘annual Christmas trip to church’ in which we see persons such as Pastor Pat, whose weak sermon is rivaled only by his weak jokes and the weak laughter from the congregation, the organist who hits all the wrong notes, and the choir that sings all 44 verses of ‘O Come, O Come, Emmanuel’. I know some folks have gotten upset saying that we shouldn’t talk about the holidays in such a way, but if we can’t laugh at ourselves and our church’s quirkiness then I think we’re in trouble. If you’ve seen the video I’m sure you can relate to some of the things they joke about. But what struck me wasn’t so much the humorous aspect so much as the underlying kernel of truth that our contemporary world (especially my generation and younger) has a struggle connecting with the Church. The world is routinely pulling folks father and farther from the faith and that video spoke to me of that reality through the media of comedy. But what strikes me even more is that every year at Christmas, what the skit notes actually comes to pass: thousands upon thousands of people who don’t darken the doors of a church throughout the year come into these sacred places and enter into the celebration of Holy Mass. Every year churches fill back up, if only for a day, because there is something that draws us here. It’s more than just making our parents, spouse, or friends happy; it’s something deep within us that compels us to come once more.

The other day we were setting up here in the church and I was over playing with the nativity scene. This is actually a favorite pastime of mine. At my home parish in Denham Springs there was a large set of figurines from all sorts of gospel passages and a nice big landscape with houses and all sorts of things. In the midst of the many characters there were a great many little sheep. The lady who kept up with it was a good friend and so I used to go and move the sheep around. She’d walk by and find a sheep on a roof or in a tree. Or the man with arms outstretched in prayer was now holding a sheep with each arm. And she’d see it and just shake her head and say “Oh, Brent!” Well, that tendency came back and I picked up that little lamb next to St. Joseph and put him in the empty manger, turned around and said, “Behold, the lamb of God!” Those around me just laughed a bit and probably thought ‘what are we gonna do with this crazy little priest?’ I smiled and said, “I know. I know. He doesn’t belong there.” And so I put it back at the feet of St. Joseph and we continued working.

Later that evening I was sitting there praying with the empty manger and I began to think of how often I have tried to fill up the empty space in my heart with things that didn’t belong there. We all try it at some point and in some way, but it struck me the many ways it had taken shape for me. We can do it with our sins: I’ll commit this sin just one more time and then I’ll be happy…one more time…one more time… and no matter how many times it is, it’s always one more time because it never satisfies. We can do the same with possessions or wealth: many times I’ve bought books, CD’s, shirts, concert tickets and more, all in the hope that I’ll be filled even for a moment and yet come up empty. Sometimes it’s not sin or things but intangibles: if I can just get a little more honor, power, respect, etc. We can take these and so many things and make them our goals that we think will ultimately bring us happiness and every one of them falls short because the hole in our hearts can be filled by only one thing: the One True God.

The invitation for us, then, is to do our best to recognize what truly brings fulfillment and to seek after it. Though we’re often unaware, the manger scene speaks this message in the form of the ox and the ass. Tradition nativities include these two animals not because they were necessarily at the event itself but because of the words of the prophet Isaiah: “The ox knows its owner, and the ass its master’s crib; but Israel does not know, my people do not understand.” (1:3) The figures remind us that they knew where to find their fulfillment but broken humanity still wanders from place to place. G.K. Chesterton once wrote, “Every time a man knocks on a brothel door, he is really searching for God.” The wandering that we do, whether it leads to brothels or any number of other places, ultimately manifests the reality that we’re searching for the peace of Christ Jesus and if we stray 1001 times, filling our hearts with that which doesn’t satisfy, then 1001 times Christ comes to us and says, ‘I know what you’re looking for and that this isn’t it. Come to me and I will give you rest.’


This rest is often sought as we hear the words of God speaking through the psalmist: Be still and know that I am God (Psalm 46). But in light of the feast we celebrate, it might behoove us to make use of another translation of the original text from St. Jerome, one of the Early Church Fathers. His translation says not ‘Be still and know that I am God’ but rather ‘Be EMPTY and SEE that I am God.’ As we come today to celebrate the entry into our world of the God-Man Jesus Christ, let us set aside those things that we have so often sought as our fulfillment that we indeed might see that He is God.