Saint John Lateran

Every parish is part of a larger group of parishes called a "diocese". Every diocese is led by a bishop. Because a bishop oversees all the parishes in his diocese, he is not assigned to a single parish church. However, every bishop does have a cathedral which is a church set aside for special ceremonies such as the ordination of priests and deacons as well as other diocesan-wide liturgies.

Our pope, Benedict XVI, is also a bishop, the bishop of the diocese of Rome. And, like all other bishops, he also has a cathedral. It is a common misconception that Saint Peter's Basilica in Vatican City is the pope's cathedral. In fact, it is actually the Basilica of Saint John Lateran. The feast we celebrate today is the dedication of that basilica some seventeen hundred years ago.

What makes that one church building so special that we are setting aside a day to celebrate it? Well, the Basilica of Saint John Lateran is the first public church in the city of Rome. Before the Emperor Constantine legalized Christianity, followers of Christ met in private homes for worship. Without the freedom to worship according to their beliefs, they often had to hide out of fear of persecution. Now, with the dedication of this great basilica in 324 A.D., Christians could come out of the dark and worship together in public without the fear of being arrested, tortured or even killed. After nearly three centuries of harassment, we can only imagine the jubilation that took place that day seventeen hundred years ago when Christians gathered in the city of Rome to worship Jesus Christ.

Nonetheless, for all the history that has taken place in that church, for all the popes who have celebrated Mass there, for all the emperors and kings who have knelt there, the Basilica of Saint John Lateran is merely a building. It could easily be destroyed by an earthquake or fire. The real beauty and power of that church comes from the presence of Jesus there. And, that presence is due to the people who gather there daily to hear his word and receive his body and blood.

When we use the word "church" in everyday language, we are usually referring to a building. For instance, we call this building a "church". But the word "church" has a fuller, more spiritual meaning. The Church is the People of God, all those who have been baptized in the name of Jesus. We are the Church. Just as we are still Americans when we travel to England or Zimbabwe, so we are still the Church when we leave this building and return to our homes.

This is Saint Paul's message today in the second reading from the Letter to the Corinthians. He writes, "YOU are God's building". And later, "YOU are the temple of God," and "...the Spirit of God dwells in YOU." Paul and his fellow Christians did not have public buildings in which to worship. Rather, they understood that wherever they gathered, they themselves were the Church. The Spirit of God was not dwelling in buildings but in the hearts of those who believe. They themselves in their bodies formed the temple where God was present.

Jesus takes up this idea in the gospel reading. In a shocking scene, Jesus takes a rope and drives out the money changers from the temple, overturning their tables and sending the sheep and oxen away. Jesus then uses the situation to teach us something about who he is and what his mission is. When asked by what authority he took such a drastic action, he told them, "Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up." As Saint John explains, he wasn't speaking about the temple building, but the temple "of his body". Jesus, by his death and resurrection, would become the new temple. The temple was no longer a physical building in Jerusalem, but Jesus' very body. In this way, we don't have to go all the way to Jerusalem to offer worship which is pleasing to the Father. We can offer that worship anywhere and anytime through Jesus Christ, the new temple and the new lamb of sacrifice.

When we realize that the Church is the People of God and the Temple in which God's Spirit dwells, it has some profound implications for our life.

First of all, if the spirit of Jesus dwells in the Church, then we cannot love Jesus without loving the Church. None of us has just a personal relationship with Jesus. We all love and serve Jesus as members of a Church. Throughout the centuries, the Church has kept the teaching of Jesus intact. We all have learned about Jesus through the teaching of the Church and encountered him through her sacraments. The Church is the instrument Jesus uses to communicate his love and his presence to the world. How could we not love the one through whom we come to know our Savior?

Secondly, if the Church is the People of God, we cannot love the Church without loving people. Loving the Church is not a matter of loving buildings, ceremonies or history. It is a matter of loving all God's people no matter how good and no matter how bad. Can all of us who say that we love this parish also say that we love the people of the parish?

We are not alone in our journey of faith. The Spirit of God dwells in each of us and in all of us. We experience Jesus in this building because of the people who make up this parish community. Land and buildings can be taken away from us, but no one can deprive us of the Spirit of God who dwells in our hearts through faith and makes us the Church. That is the essence of our celebration today. Not just a church building in Rome, but a People who have witnessed to Christ for over two thousand years and will continue to do so until he comes again in glory.

Ask and ask and ask

This was the homily I gave at my first full time parish assignment back in 1992.

In this world, nothing is free. If you want something, you have to pay for it. If you want to get ahead, you have to work hard for it. Everything comes with a price tag and with strings attached.

But with God, it is totally different. Whatever He gives us is free with no strings attached. Everything we have comes from Him: our lives, our families, the ground we walk on and the air we breathe are all His free gift. And when we need anything, all we have to do is ask him and He will give it to us. We do not have to earn it or prove to Him that we deserve it. We only have to ask because He is a loving Father who wants to give us whatever we need. Through the power of prayer, we can speak directly to God for ourselves, for our family, for our loved ones and for the whole world.

When Jesus teaches His disciples about prayer, He wants them to understand the tremendous power that prayer unlocks for them and, more importantly, He wants them to learn how to use that power wisely. In today’s gospel, Jesus teaches us two things about prayer: first, what to pray for and, second, how to pray for it.

First of all, what should we ask for?

Of all the petitions in the Lord’s Prayer, I want to focus on just one: “Give us this day our daily bread.” In Jesus’ time, bread was the food most commonly eaten. It was the major ingredient of every meal. So when Jesus taught His disciples t pray, “Give us this day our daily bread,” he was teaching them to ask God for the nourishment they needed to get through the day. This nourishment can be understood literally as food for the day or symbolically as money to pay bills, patience with the people around us, or strength to get through a difficult time.

Before I get up in the morning or while I’m taking a shower, I like to think about all the things I will need for the day whether it will be volunteers for CCD or money to make my next car payment. Offering to God my needs for the day helps remind me that nothing will happen to me that He and I cannot handle together. I will never need anything that God cannot provide for me.

Besides teaching us what we should pray for, Jesus teaches us how we should pray for it. We have to be persistent. Like the man in the parable, we have to keep on knocking on heaven’s door until we get an answer from God. If we don’t get what we ask for on the first try we have to keep on going back believing that God will answer. Being persistent like this strengthens our faith. It makes us realize how much we depend on God everyday to give us what we need. If God always answered us right away we might start to think that it’s because we somehow earned it instead of realizing that God gives us good things not because we deserve them but because He loves us. Also, if God gave us everything we wanted when we wanted it, we might begin to love God’s gifts more than we love God Himself. God gives us the power and the privelege to ask for what we need and He promises to hear our prayer, but is is up to Him to decide when, where and how He will answer us.

How wonderful it is that the God who created the whole universe and all its wonders cares about each one of us. How wonderful it is that He has given each one of us who believes in Jesus the power to ask Him for what we need. We can go straight to the boss with our problems and know that He cares about our deepest needs and will provide for us. To those who are hungry, He will give food. To those who are struggling to pay their bills, He will somehow provide the money. And to those who are lonely, He will provide strength and love. With God, everything is free. All we have to do is ask and ask and ask.

Revenge of a Nerd

To take advantage of the historically low interest rates, I had my home appraised recently.

Being a real estate appraiser myself, I took the opportunity to inflict on a brother appraiser all the torments homeowners inflict on me.

So, when he arrived, I walked onto the porch just as he was taking a picture of the front of the house. I insisted that he sit at my kitchen table as I explained all the work I had done. So I told him how all the furniture and curtains are new and everything I planned to do in the future. While he walked through the house, I stayed close by his heels opening the closet doors and introducing each room. “This is the bathroom!”, I proclaimed in case he might get it confused with the living room or kitchen. I complained to him that on my last appraisal the finished basement area wasn’t included in he room count and made him explain why. Then, just as he was about to bolt out the door, I pressed him on what he thought my house was worth, “A couple of million, right. Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!”

I know it’s stupid. But it made me feel better. And it will probably give me a reason to laugh the next time a homeowner does the same to me.

Stalks in the City

One of the trendiest environmental movements is urban farming.

This movement seeks to take vacant or otherwise blighted city properties and use them to grow vegetables and raise livestock.

It helps neighborhoods by cleaning up debris and hazardous materials and creating much needed green space. It helps the environment because less food would need to be trucked in from far off rural areas. And it makes fresh produce more available to poorer city dwellers.

The new attention to urban farming is just one more instance of how advanced Azorean immigrants are. They have been cultivating urban lots since they first arrived in this country over 100 years ago.

When I was growing up in Taunton, every yard had rows of vegetables planted around the patio. In fact, a house in my neighborhood was more likely to have a grape vine than central heat. And when I moved to a much more densely developed neighborhood in Fall River some twenty-five years later, we were just as likely to be awakened in the early morning by a rooster crowing as by a car alarm going off.

I have no doubt that a close study of Azorean immigrant culture would reveal even more practices that could find their way to the cutting edge of sustainable development technologies.

Charles Carroll of Carrollton

Missionaries are not the only Catholics who contributed to the founding of our country. Several Catholic statesmen did as well.

The most distinguished of these would be Charles Carroll of Carrollton.

His family had moved to Maryland to flee the persecution of Catholics in England. There he became a large landowner.

At the age of eight he was sent to France to begin his formal education eventually earning a law degree in England.

On his return to the colonies, however, he was not allowed to vote, practice law or enter politics because of his Catholic faith.

Nonetheless, he entered into debate with the colonial authorities through anonymous letters to newspapers to protest the British tax policies and urge separation of the colonies from England.

Sadly, as one of the richest men in the colonies and a large plantation owner, Charles Carroll was also a slave owner. It should be noted that the slave trade had already been condemned by the Catholic Church in 1435 (nearly sixty years before Colombus landed in the New World) by Pope Eugene IV in the papal bull, Sicut Dudum, and later by Pope Paul III in the bull, Sublimis Deus. To his credit, he introduced a bill in the Maryland Senate to provide for the gradual abolition of slavery, but it was voted down.

He is best known as the only Catholic signatory of the Declaration of Independence.

His cousin, John Carroll, became the first bishop of Baltimore.

Charles Carroll died at the age of 95, being the last surviving signatory of Declaration of Independence.

Blessed Junipero Serra

Another Catholic missionary who played an important role in our country’s history was Blessed Junipero Serra.

He was born on the island of Mallorca, Spain in 1713.

At the age of 16, he entered the Franciscan order and eventually became a distinguished professor of philosophy.

Though he had made a comfortable life for himself, he decided at the age of 36 to join the missions in Mexico. Twenty years later, in 1769, he was given responsibility over the mission territory of California.

In all, he had responsibility over 21 missions spreading over 700 miles, nine of which he founded.

Blessed Junipero Serra is considered by most historians to be the founder of the modern state of California. The missions he founded - which included San Diego and San Francisco - became some of the state’s major cities. He introduced roads and a system of agriculture and irrigation which provided the infrastructure for the state’s economy. And his efforts to establish laws protecting the native peoples from the Spanish authorities and soldiers became the backbone of California’s legal system.

Blessed Junipero Serra died on August 28, 1784. His life and work stands as a witness to the role religion played in the founding of our country, in its expansion and in its continued development.

Founding Fathers

The Fourth of July is a day to recognize and celebrate those who made our independence as a nation possible. They are the soldiers who fought to expel the British forces from the colonies. They are the politicians whose ideas and vision set up a system which would ensure our continued liberty from tyranny. And they are the ordinary citizens whose labor made our country the most prosperous in history.

Some came, however, not only to inhabit and develop this land but to evangelize it. With a burning zeal, they preached the good news to the native peoples across Canada into the frontier wilderness of America. Their efforts established missions, schools, hospitals and much of the infrastructure vital to the development of the nation. On this Fourth of July we should also remember these brave men and women many of whom gave their lives to spread the message of God’s love and who guaranteed that religion would play an important role in this country’s history.

One such man we should recognize and celebrate today is Saint Isaac Jogues. Born in France, he traveled to Canada as a missionary in 1636 with the goal of witnessing to Christ to the native peoples of Lake Superior and the Iroquois of modern day Mississippi. However, on August 3, 1642, the Indian leaders took him prisoner, tortured him cruelly and kept him as a slave for thirteen months until he was rescued by a group of Dutch Calvinists.

After his release, he returned to France and was honored as a hero of the faith for all he endured. Because his hands had been mutilated (many of his fingers had been bitten and cut off) he was unable to say Mass. Nonetheless, the pope gave him a special dispensation which allowed him to say Mass with his mutilated hands.

In 1644, he agreed to return to the new land to help the French negotiate a peace treaty with the Iroquois. To the amazement of his superiors, he begged them to allow him to stay and continue his missionary work. Impressed by his zeal, they reluctantly agreed.

In the meanwhile, sickness had spread among the native peoples causing many of them to die, and a blight struck their crops causing a famine. They blamed the return of Father Jogues as the cause of it. On October 18, 1646, he was captured by Mohawk warriors, beaten and slashed with knives. They dragged him back to the camp where he was decapitated and his head spiked onto a stake.

On June 29, 1930 he, along with several other North American martyrs, were declared saints by Pope Pius XI.

We remember with gratitude and pride those who fought to ensure the liberties and worked to earn the prosperity we enjoy today. Let us also keep in mind those who through great sacrifice ensured that we would be able to live our faith in this great land without fear. This Independence Day belongs to them too.

Bless the Beasts and the Children

“For freedom Christ set us free; so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery.” (Gal. 5:1).


My wife works for the media giant, Comcast, so we have literally hundreds of channels of television programming and music stations in at least ten different languages streaming into our home.

Spoiled by this embarrassment of riches, our daughters would certainly die if they had to go back to the programming we had in our homes as children. Clicking around the dial yielded only five snowy channels: the ABC, CBS and NBC affiliates and two local stations, channels 56 and 38.

Home games of the Bruins and Red Sox were telecast on channel 38 while Brady Bunch and Star Trek reruns kept us tuned into channel 56.

At a time when, before the invention of the VCR, there were no movie rentals, both stations competed to offer the best films.

Unfortunately, just as there was a paucity of TV stations, there were only a few movies broadcast in what seemed like a continuous loop. Such titles as “Play Misty for Me”, “A Man Called Horse”, “Rosemary’s Baby” and “Tora, Tora, Tora” were the weekly fare. Like old Gilligan’s Island and Hogan’s Heroes episodes, it wasn’t long before we committed every line to memory. But, with no other choices, we continued to watch as if, by some miracle,the ending might change.

One particularly poignant movie we were treated to once a month was the classic, “Bless the Beasts and the Children”. A coming of age tale, it features a bunch of misfits who have to endure a gauntlet of adolescent humiliations during their first year of summer camp including being doused with a bucket of urine.

The plot turns, however, when they are taken to a corral where buffalo are rounded up and shot for sport by hunters. The kids are horrified as they watch the beasts being mercilessly slaughtered. So they decide to escape from the camp and release the buffalo from their enclosure, liberating them from otherwise certain death.

After stealing a truck and facing much misadventure along the way, the boys finally arrive at the corral. They throw open the gates expecting the buffalo to stampede into the countryside reveling in their new freedom. However, the animals simply hoof over to the other part of the fence and continue grazing. They are just too dumb to realize that they have been saved and too content in their captivity to flee.

The boys try shooting in the air to get them to run along, but to no effect. Finally, one of the boys drives the truck at them to get them to stampede. However, the hunters who arrive on the scene shoot at the truck, killing the young driver.

In this past Sunday’s second reading (13th Sunday of Ordinary Time), Saint Paul writes: “For freedom Christ set us free; so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery” (Gal. 5:1). Through his death and resurrection, Jesus has freed us from sin opening wide the gates which enclosed us in despair. However, like the buffalo, we are content to graze on the hillside blissfully ignorant of the danger we are in. We find ourselves trapped in patterns of sinfulness because we haven’t grabbed hold of the freedom we have as sons and daughters of God. We would rather live as beasts burdened by sin rather than as free children of God feasting in the pastures of grace.

So what are we to do? How can we lay claim to the freedom which is ours through baptism?

First of all, we have to recognize that we are in danger. Sin is nothing to trifle with. It distances us from God, damages our relationships, makes our hearts grow cold and kills the life of our soul. “The wages of sin are death.” Every sin is punished in some way, so we should fear it and flee from it at every opportunity. We cannot afford to live oblivious to the price sin exacts from our soul or the danger it poses to our well-being.

Secondly, we have to stop trying to rely on our own will-power and self-control and start drawing on the power of Christ. Saint Paul explains that, through baptism, Christ is now living within us. The Risen Lord, victor over sin and death, has made his home within us. If so, it is by his power that we will resist temptation, not by our own. We can face sin confidently knowing that Jesus is our strength.

Finally, we need to begin every day renewing our baptismal vows:

I reject sin so as to live in the freedom of God’s children.
I reject the glamor of evil, and refuse to be mastered by sin.
I reject Satan, father of sin and prince of darkness.
I believe in God, the Father Almighty....
I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord...
I believe in the Holy Spirit....

It was in the waters of baptism that our sinful self was drowned and our free self emerged. By recalling our baptismal vows daily, we keep in mind that we are no longer slaves of sin and can lay claim to the freedom Christ won for us.

Like many of the movies from the seventies, forty years later, “Bless the Beasts and the Children” seems corny and stale. But its central message - how comfortable we can become in our captivity - is ever true. For Christians, it is a message worth repeating if we are to become effective witnesses to the power of the gospel and to live in the freedom Christ won for us.

Christian Environmentalism

Christians - and Catholics in particular - are frequently accused of being obsessed with only one issue - abortion. We are accused of overlooking a host of other problems plaguing the planet to focus on an issue which should really be a private matter between a woman and her doctor.

Maybe they have a point. It's like that pesky Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. crowing about civil rights in the '60's when there were other pressing issues such as the generation gap, the population bomb and the new ice age (as climate change was described back then).

While the slaughter of 1.5 million innocent lives a year is hard to ignore, there are in fact other social issues which demand the attention and energy of Christians. One of these is the environment.

For Christians of a conservative stripe, talk of the environment is a turn off (to use a '60's phrase). It is too trendy an issue, conjuring up nightmares of hippies or the granite face of Al Gore scolding us for leaving the car engine running while we jump into the Gas and Sip for a pack of camels.

The rest of us may be tired of the scare tactics of the global warming debate or soured by the hypocrisy of the rich buying "carbon offsets" instead of changing their behavior.

Nonetheless, concern for the environment is as ancient a Christian virtue as any other. The first paragraphs of the Bible describe the human vocation as stewards or caretakers of the Earth God created. The pages which follow describe the glory of God revealed in nature from the majesty of mountain ranges to the mystery of the ocean's murky depths. Environmentalism is as Christian a calling as care for the poor and is a key component of the Church's social teaching.

One often hears Christians claim that there is no need for the Church to weigh in on environmental issues because there is an abundance of concern for ecology in the secular culture and media. We need, rather, to endeavor to keep the life issues such as abortion and euthanasia on the world's moral compass.

However, I would argue that it is precisely our commitment to human life issues that requires us to be involved in environmentalism. First of all, a healthy environment is essential to human flourishing. Without clean drinking water and fresh air, humans cannot survive. The poor are especially susceptible to the effects of pollution. Our concern for them means that we have to use less of the world's resources and press industry to discharge less pollutants into the air and water.

Secondly, the environmental debate as undertaken by the secular media and culture is growing increasingly anti-human. Women and men, because we exhale carbon dioxide, are considered pollutants. One of the stated goals of many environmental groups is to reduce population throughout the world. As they grow in influence, aid to poor countries will be increasing tied to population control. If a country's birthrate exceeds a certain level, funding will be reduced or cut off. As we have seen in China and are soon to see in Africa, this will lead to horrific human rights abuses such as forced sterilizations and abortions (there's that pesky issue again).

Because of our tradition of caring for the Earth and because of our commitment to life issues, we Christians must not only take part in the environmental movement but take the lead. We must make the case that human beings are good for the environment and that human flourishing is not antithetical to the flourishing of plants and animals. Otherwise human life will be sacrificed at the altar of Gaia, and the poor will bear the brunt of it.

The Image of the Invisible God

Now that my youngest daughter is in the first grade, she is asking all the questions about faith which I forgot were so difficult to explain. One question she has really struggled with is the doctrine of the Trinity. How can Jesus, the Father and the Holy Spirit all be one God? If they are each God, then there must be three gods. Or if there is only one God, then two of them must not be God. I have to admit that I have been at a loss to explain it to her short of telling her that it is impossible to understand. We just have to believe it and wait until we get to Heaven to understand. Though that was the type of explanation I used to balk at when I was a kid, I have to admit that there is really no better answer than that. God has revealed himself to be three Persons in one God. We either accept it in faith or reject Christianity as a whole. Without belief in the Trinity, all of Christian teaching is no more valuable than fortune cookies.

Accepting the doctrine of the Trinity in faith does not mean that we do not turn it around in our heads to try to make sense of it. On the contrary, our faith always engages our reason. The mystery of the Trinity can make some sense to us even if we will never understand it fully.

When my daughter learned about Saint Patrick and the shamrock, it helped her make some sense of the Trinity. The image that always helped me is based on Saint Augustine's psychological analogy.

Each person, because we are self-conscious, has both a real self and a self-image. We have a true self and an image in our mind of who we are. Because we are imperfect, our self-image is not an accurate reflection of our true self. For example, we may not be as ugly or as attractive as we think. Or we may not be as smart or as dumb as we think. Nonetheless, we have this self-image built up based on how people have treated us and our experiences interacting with others.

We are not only able to have an image of ourselves in our minds, we are also capable of having feelings about ourselves. Based on our self-image, we either like ourselves or loathe ourselves. Most of us, I imagine, fall somewhere in between. Just as our self-image is often a distortion of our true selves, so our self-esteem often falls short of the love we deserve to have for ourselves.

What does all this have to do with the doctrine of the Trinity?

The true self corresponds to God the Father. God's self-image refers to God the Son. And God's self-esteem refers to the Holy Spirit.

Because God is perfect, his self-image, Jesus, is a perfect reflection of his being and glory. Saint Paul tells us in the Letter to the Colossians that Jesus is "...the image of the invisible God" (Col 1:15). Whoever looks upon Jesus looks upon the Father (Jn. 14:9). Also, because God is perfect, he has a perfect love for himself. Whereas the Son is the image of the Father, the Spirit is God's self-esteem, the love he has for his image, the Son. The Holy Spirit, then, is the very love of God given to us. Again Saint Paul tells us as much in the letter to the Romans: "The love of God has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given us" (Rom 5:5).

Saint Augustine's insight was that since we are made in the image and likeness of God, we can find in our psychological makeup a reflection of God's being. Just as each of us is one person though made up of our true self, self-image and self-esteem, so God is one God though Father, Son and Spirit.

Understanding the Trinity in this way also helps us ponder other mysteries such as our incorporation into Christ through baptism, our spiritual adoption through the gift of the Spirit and the mystical communion of the Church.

While this psychological model is much more complicated than the shamrock, I think it helps us begin to make some sense of the mystery that God is.

(painting by Salvador Dali, "The Angelus of Gala"

The Mystery of Creation vs. the Mastery of Creation

This article originally appeared in Connect! magazine

Every Trinity Sunday I think back to my childhood parish and to our pastor endeavoring to explain in his broken English the mystery of the one God in three Persons. After defining the doctrine of the Trinity, he would use every classic example such as the shamrock, the triangle and the three-legged stool to try to clarify it for us. However, inevitably, he would throw his hands up in defeat proclaiming, "It's a mystery", then step down from the ambo and launch into the Nicene Creed. As he made his way back to his chair, he may have thought that he failed in helping us to appreciate the dogma we were celebrating. However, I do still remember those homilies all these years later. Most importantly, I learned that God is mystery, and that mystery is important.

We live in a culture which is sorely lacking any sense of mystery. Science has taught us that everything can be boiled down to its physical elements. We believe that any phenomenon we cannot now understand either must have a reasonable, scientific explanation or must be a projection of our imaginations. Because of this lack of a sense of mystery, we come to worship often looking to "get something out of it" rather than to stand in awe of God's presence among his people. Our public debates about the dignity of the human person always revolve around issues of choice, convenience and cost rather than around the unrepeatable and irreducible value of woman and man made in God's image and likeness. We cannot even enjoy a magic show without trying to figure out how the magician is pulling off the illusion. Therefore, we reserve the term, "mystery", for unsolved crimes and curiosities such as Bigfoot and the chupacabras, while any appreciation for the transcendent and the sublime is bled from our vocabulary.

On the other hand, as baptized believers in Christ, our lives are charged with mystery. We recognize it in the wonders of creation. The blue sky arching over us streaked with clouds points to the power and grandeur of the God who made heaven and earth. Browsing through a farmer's market or driving past a cornfield our spirit rejoices in God's bounty and providence. When we see the diversity of peoples, their cultures and languages, we cannot help but ponder the rich creativity of the one God who sustains us in being. The universe is God's handiwork springing forth from his bosom leading us to wonder, to contemplation and to praise. As the first reading from the book of Proverbs tells us, it was all created after the pattern of the Father's wisdom which has also been understood to be the Spirit, the breath of life, and the Son, the Logos, Jesus Christ. The beauty of the world and its wonders do not beg from us an explanation, but a response of awe and praise. It calls us to recognize that the Father's creating work did not end on the sixth day, but that along with the Son and the Spirit, he continues to sustain the world in being and to bring forth ever new wonders from his creating hands.

If we stand in wonder of God's creation, how much more do we recognize the mystery of his saving work! The second reading from Paul's letter to the Romans is a celebration of the Father's redeeming work through Christ which is brought to life for us through the presence of the Holy Spirit in our hearts. We are not only wonderfully made but generously set free from the rebellion which separates us from our Creator and which introduced death and despair into the world. Not only has the Father desired to give us life and being, he has deigned to draw us into his own life and being, to make us his sons and daughters together with Christ, and to awaken our hearts in love through the Holy Spirit, his breath of life bringing us to new life. Again, it is not something that begs to be understood and explained, but pondered and proclaimed.

The verses of the second reading come at a pivotal time in Paul's letter to the Romans. He spends the first chapters describing what the world is like without Christ. It is a world marked by decadence, headed toward death and so consumed by despair. In the section we read today, Paul explains how different life is when it is redeemed by Christ and marked by the presence and activity of the Holy Spirit. It is a life of peace with God, full of confidence and animated by a lively hope. The parallel with our contemporary western culture could not be clearer. It has jettisoned a sense of the mystery of creation to attain a mastery over it. In the meanwhile, despite the technology we have developed and the knowledge we have amassed, the question is never far from our minds: "Is this all there is?" We know in our hearts that we are made for something more than databases, test tubes and spreadsheets. That "something more" is the mystery of the Father, revealed in the Son and made present in the Holy Spirit who gives us peace, confidence and hope. If there is nothing else we as believers can bring to the world, it is a sense of the mystery of the one God in three persons who created the world in all its wonders and who calls us to share the divine life.

The being of God is an unfathomable mystery of three persons pouring themselves out in love for one another throughout all of eternity. Our western mindset makes us want to understand, explain and maybe even defend this dogma of faith. Can we hold off that tendency in favor of pondering it and rejoicing in it? Can we make this solemnity an opportunity to grow in awe of the God who saves and to develop our sense of mystery? Through our worship, can we bring that sense of mystery into a world chilled and calloused by life's cold, hard facts? Most importantly, can we bring that mystery to life by pouring ourselves out for one another in love after the example of our Triune God?

Life in the Spirit

Sitting around a bonfire this weekend, we talked about how encounters with people of other faiths help us to grow in our own faith. One of the group told the story of a family member who is Evangelical asking her why her son needed to be confirmed. She replied, "So that he can receive the gifts of the Holy Spirit." When he asked her, "What are the gifts of the Spirit?", she replied, "I don't know, but I'll find out." In near shock, he replied, "You mean, you are putting him through all this, and you don't even know what you are receiving?!"

As she told the story, I had to admit that I couldn't name the gifts of the Spirit myself.

This conversation was an answer to something I had been reflecting on in prayer during the days leading up to Pentecost. "What does it mean to live in the Spirit?" The answer (for now) - living in the Spirit means receiving and using the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit.

We first hear about these gifts through the prophet Isaiah in his description of the Messiah:

The spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him: a spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
A spirit of counsel and of strength, a spirit of knowledge and of fear of the LORD,
and his delight shall be the fear of the LORD. (Is. 11: 2-3A)

These gifts which we receive at Confirmation and which the Spirit is happy to renew in us daily enlighten our minds so that we can see God's will clearly, strengthen us to do his will and console us through the difficulties we will inevitably face. They are ours for the asking. In fact, they are our birthright as adopted daughters and sons of God. We should reflect on them during our prayer and make use of them throughout the day.

But, God has even more for us.

If we live by the Spirit putting to use these seven gifts, then our souls will bear the fruits of the Spirit. These fruits are the effects of the Spirit's presence and action in our lives. Saint Paul lists them for us in his letter to the Galatians: "[T]he fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control" (Gal. 5: 22-23). Which of us would not want all of these fruits of the Spirit to mark our lives?

Let's make it a point of learning what these gifts and fruits of the Spirit are so that we won't be caught off guard when someone asks us what it means to be confirmed or to live in the Spirit. These days following Pentecost are a good time for us to reflect on the gifts we have received, and most importantly, to put them into practice so that we can bear abundant fruit to the glory of God!

Saint Joseph the Worker

Yesterday we celebrated the feast of Saint Joseph the Worker.

I recently heard a moving explanation of Joseph's reaction to learning that his betrothed, Mary, was pregnant.

Matthew's gospel tells us that, rather than expose Mary to public disgrace, Joseph planned to divorce her quietly.

But what would have been the consequences of such an action?

Because he did not accuse her of adultery, the people would have assumed that he was the child's father but was abandoning Mary. The shame which would have fallen on her - including the possibility of being stoned to death - would have been cast on him. Though he felt betrayed, he would have taken upon himself the reproach for what he perceived to be her sin.

Bearing the burden of another's shame.....where have we heard that before?

SCIENCE!

I'm trying to get some use out of my philosophy degree here.


The Academy of Sciences reports that roughly 93% of its members are atheists or agnostics.

Shocking? Maybe

Relevant? Hardly

Setting aside whether it is appropriate to lump atheists (those who deny the existence of God) together with agnostics (those who are unsure or skeptical of God's existence) in one statistic, the question of God is not a topic which science is competent to address. Science deals with realities which can be observed and measured. However, God cannot be seen or quantified in any way. Therefore, science can never determine whether God exists or not, and scientists are not qualified to opine on anything having to do with God. And anything they do say about God is irrelevant.

Consider this. What if a poll revealed that 93% of Evangelical Christians denied or were skeptical of the theory of evolution? Should that cause a scientist to reconsider her own position on Darwin's work? Of course not. Well, the opposite is also the case.

Science does a great deal of good for humanity when it operates within its realm of competency. Beyond that, it should have no bearing on issues which fall to philosophy and theology to weigh and consider.

The Shepherd's Voice

When I was a young theology student in Rome, I had the opportunity to hike through the Holy Land with some of my fellow students. It was a unique and sometimes grueling way to experience the lands of the Bible. We spent one night sleeping on the beach and another on a parking lot only to be awakened by a pack of wild camels circling our site.

As we made our way through the rocky hillsides and arid wadis, it was not uncommon to find the rotting carcass of a sheep or goat. The fetid odor and buzz of flies was unmistakable. We always found them at the bottom of a cliff. They had obviously become separated from their flock and shepherd, hazarded too close to the edge and tumbled down to their death.

No doubt Jesus and his disciples often came across such carcasses as they traveled between the villages of Galilee and Judea. They came to serve as a warning to his followers. Jesus had come to identify his mission with that of the shepherd who protects his sheep. And he looked upon his disciples as sheep in need of constant care lest they falter in the desert heat, get run down by a wolf or spill unawares over a cliff. His discourse on the Good Shepherd - a portion of which we read in today's gospel - is a reflection on this.

The followers of Jesus are safe so long as they stay close to him and listen for his voice. Once we begin to stray, lusting after lusher pastures, we fall prey to the wolf. When we leave Christ to follow instead our passions and misguided ideas, we stumble into danger.

Hearing and recognizing the voice of our Good Shepherd is by no means easy. It is difficult to know whether it is Jesus' voice that we are hearing or the echo of our own desires. Despite the difficulties, one way to be sure that we are near Jesus and within earshot of his voice is to stick with his flock.

None of us is put out to pasture alone. We are part of a community. We are not meant to live the Christian life privately, isolated from others. It is together that we learn to hear God's voice and discern his will for us.

So when we leave the flock, we find ourselves away from the protection of our shepherd and closer to the edge of danger.

If we want to find the shepherd, we have to join the flock. Wherever the flock is, Jesus is sure to be close by.

The Lord is Risen! Alleluia! Alleluia!

I received this homemade card on Easter 1988 during my first year of theology. I remember it being the loneliest day I spent there. This card brightened it for me, and I have kept it ever since. Unfortunately, I don't remember who the Michael was who gave it to me. The front of the card reads in Greek,from John 11:25, " I am the resurrection."

Jesus Died for Me

Jesus, I don't know what your death means.

I'm afraid to die. I'm afraid to let go of this life and its pleasures. I fear the ridicule, rejection and pain which you endured for me.

I know that to be your disciple I must live by the cross that saved me. But, I also understand the fear of the apostles who betrayed, denied and abandoned you. I understand Pilate's confusion and desire to wash his hands of the whole mess. I understand the blood-thirst of the crowd calling for Barabbas' freedom and your death. I understand the Pharisees' suspicion of you. I understand the soldier's making fun of you. They were used to kings who ruled by the sword, not by the Spirit.

It's you that I'm not able to understand.

Your death turns everything upside down. How can we believe in such a weak God? How can we trust that a God who didn't save himself would ever be able to save us?

Yet you showed that, through the whole ordeal, you were in control. You assured your disciples, "I have the power to lay down my life and to pick it up again." Why didn't you come down from the cross, then? Why didn't you show them up for the hypocrites and fools they were? That's what I would have done. I would have protected myself. I would have shown my power. I would have let them know whom they were dealing with. Everyone would have believed. No one would have doubted me. Fear and awe of me would have bent their hearts to my will.

Ah...that's it. You want to rule our hearts not out of fear but out of love. You want us to give our hearts freely to you, not snatch them away from us.

Oh Jesus, how could you ever love us after what we did and continue to do to you? How could you ever believe that a crowd that humiliated you, spit on you and tore you to pieces could ever have it within them to love? Yet, you bet your life that at least some of us would understand and believe.

Jesus, I don't know if I can love the way you love. I don't understand why this all had to happen. I can only look up at you with gratitude. I can only marvel at the love God has for such people as we are.



(images by Maite Roche)

I Have Given You An Example

After three weeks of visiting her father everyday at the nursing home, Sarah could not bear to see him there anymore. After talking it over with her husband, she decided to take a leave of absence from her job and allow her father to live out the last few months of his life at home. They set up a hospital bed in the living room of their small home and prayed to God that he would help them.

At this stage of his life, her father was like an infant. He needed to be washed and fed. Many times he cried out in the middle of the night not remembering where he was. A few days into it, Sarah thought she had made a big mistake. But then she noticed a change in her family. Rather than complain that they were not able to watch TV in the living room anymore, her sons enjoyed sitting around talking with their grandfather. Her husband, even though he came home exhausted from a day of work, would pitch in with the laundry and other duties. They were all willing to make the necessary sacrifices so that he could spend the last months of his life surrounded by his loved ones.

When Sarah's father did eventually pass away several months later, they realized what a gift it had been having him around. Even though it was an inconvenience and even though their friends and neighbors wondered why they would take on such a burden, they knew that the sacrifices they made to have their loved one home with them brought them together as a family and taught them that there is nothing more important than showing love to the people God has placed in our lives.

Many of us are not fortunate enough to be able to take time out of work to care for a loved one. But, no matter what our situation, Sarah's story teaches all of us an important lesson. When we sacrifice ourselves out of love for another person, we get a glimpse into the heart of God and are forever changed.

On this day - Holy Thursday - we begin the great celebration of Jesus' passion, death and resurrection. Before he died, Jesus wanted to share one last meal with his apostles, the traditional Passover meal which is described in the first reading from the book of Exodus. As the meal began, he knelt to the ground and began to wash their feet. It was customary that a host offer to wash the feet of his dinner guests, but it was a job for a lowly servant not the master of the house. We see how shocking Jesus' actions are when Peter at first refuses to let him do it. But Jesus wants to teach them that if they are to be his disciples, then they must also serve each other, even in the most humiliating way.

Whose feet is Jesus calling us to wash? Sarah and her family learned the way of self-giving love through taking her father in to live with them. Who in our life is in need of the attention and love that only we can give? It could be the homeless person in the subway on our way to work. It could be a family member who is alone and could use a visit from us. It could be a classmate who is having trouble making friends. If we look hard enough, we will find people in our lives who are aching for a simple pat on the back or word of encouragement. Are we willing to stoop down to them and wash their feet as if they were the feet of Jesus himself?

It was also at the Last Supper that Jesus gave us the gift of his Body and Blood to nourish us in our journey through life. Jesus feeds us so that we may feed others. He gives of himself to us so that we can give of ourselves for others. The mystery of the Eucharist is of a God who never fails to pick us up when we fall and to come to our aid when we are in need. He is a God who promises to be present among us always. If that presence is to be real and active in our world, then we must follow his example not by waiting for needy people to come to us but by going out and finding them.

Then the power of the Eucharist to heal and transform us will also be real and active in our lives.

Saint John says of Jesus in the gospel that "He loved his own in the world and he loved them to the end." Jesus gave all he had to give, even to the last drop of his blood. There is no limit to the love Jesus shows our world. He continues to give himself in the form of bread and wine to a world hungry for truth, meaning and love. If we feel that there is something missing in our lives, we need only turn to him. He longs to wash our feet and feed us. And once he has strengthened us, we must go out and share with others the good news of the Savior we have found. Then the love and mercy we celebrate at this altar will spread itself out and embrace all people.

The Perp Walk

This homily originally appeared in Connect! magazine

It is called the "perp walk". With cameras rolling, law enforcement marches off into custody alleged criminals, usually prominent politicians or business people, in order to humiliate them or to serve as a warning to anyone who might otherwise be tempted to imitate their behavior. While such footage feeds our unblinking media's 24 hour news cycle, making a public spectacle of a lawbreaker is as old as civilization itself. The early colonialists kept stockades in the public square for just such a purpose. The Romans combined torture and deterrence by hanging criminals on crosses outside the city. We do it, if not by imprisonment, then by making a household name and late-night TV joke out of anyone whose bad behavior is sufficiently entertaining.

In light of this human tendency to humiliate transgressors, the gospel reading of the woman caught in adultery is all the more poignant. John recounts for us that the scribes and Pharisees pushed her into the middle of the crowd which had gathered to listen to Jesus in the temple area. With everyone looking at her, they pronounced sentence upon her with witnesses to back up the story. There was nowhere for her to run and hide. And the saddest part of it all was that she was being made sport of not out of zeal for the law and its prescriptions, but in order to trap Jesus and eventually move him into the circle of judgment. Their indignation would not be quenched by spilling this woman's blood. Jesus was their real target.

Jesus reacts to the scene by stooping down and tracing in the dirt with his finger. His action and what exactly it was he was writing have been points of speculation over the centuries. While there is no way of knowing, one thing is certain. By bending to the ground he was setting himself apart from those who would stand in judgment over her. Such a gesture is consistent with his ministry for he stooped down from his throne in heaven to take on our human nature not to condemn us but to share his divine life with us through the forgiveness of our sins.

What is also telling is that the gospel reading begins by stating that Jesus had spent the night at the Mount of Olives presumably in prayer. We remember that the Mount of Olives serves as the backdrop for Jesus' agony in the garden and betrayal by Judas. It is painfully evident to him that the same crowd which is willing to humiliate and condemn the woman caught in adultery will be eager to drag him off to his own death outside the city gates.

So by stooping to the ground he makes it clear that he has come to take her place - and our place - at the gallows, to take upon himself the stones hurled in judgment and indignation.

At the same time, he stoops to the ground to pronounce a sentence on those who dragged the woman before the crowd. He takes the shame from her shoulders and casts it back upon those who were so quick to condemn her. They are the ones who will withdraw from that place disgraced and humiliated leaving Jesus and the woman alone. A judgment is made and a sentence brought down, but it does not go in the direction we would have guessed. The disgrace instead boomerangs back on to those who were gathered around pointing the finger.

As believers, we can find ourselves from time to time on either side of the equation. We may be judged harshly for our way of life, told that our religion poisons everything and that our beliefs are backwards. On the other hand, we find ourselves not infrequently pointing the finger at others, speculating on their motives and projecting onto them our own weaknesses and sinful inclinations. We may often find ourselves not as far removed from the attitude of the Pharisees and scribes of Jesus' day as we might hope.

Two recent examples come to mind - President Obama's commencement speech at Notre Dame last May and Senator Kennedy's funeral in Boston. In both cases, the prelates and priests involved had
stones thrown at them. Their intentions were impugned and their orthodoxy questioned. At the same time, those who raised legitimate and thoughtful concerns about honors being bestowed on these men were often characterized as being divisive and extreme. Perhaps because we are so influenced by the charged rhetoric of the current political climate, we find ourselves often unable to discuss pressing issues civilly. Or it could be that we are more interested in justifying ourselves and our opinions than in discerning the truth.

Wherever we may find ourselves on the ideological spectrum and however we may choose to articulate and celebrate our beliefs, one insidious temptation dogs us - that of seeing one part of the truth as the whole truth. It happened to the Pharisees and scribes who deemed judgment and condemnation to be the whole of the Law to the exclusion of mercy and forgiveness. It happens to us when we make an idol of morality, social justice, liturgical correctness or doctrinal orthodoxy. When that happens, a rigidity sets in that fractures unity and harms solidarity. We come to see one another as rivals rather than as brothers and sisters.

It was a temptation which Saint Paul knew well because he had succumbed to it himself when he persecuted the Church. As he tells the Christians at Philippi, he considers it all garbage compared to the knowledge of Christ. For in Jesus we are not given more rules to keep and enforce but a person to follow. In Jesus, we do not have more truths revealed but the Truth itself made flesh. And so, if we are to follow the example he set, we will not point fingers but instead we will stand with those who are condemned. Our quest for justice will not begin by lamenting the wrongdoing of faceless institutions but rather with the examination of our own heart and conduct. We will then recognize that each of us is a sinner in need of mercy not condemnation for we will have embraced the love of a Savior who has stooped down to take away our shame.

From Conversion to Faith

I preached the following homily on this day way back in 1992.

As we enter the last two weeks of Lent, the liturgy takes on a different tone. Whereas the first three weeks focused on Jesus' challenge to turn away from sin, these last two weeks focus on the other half of that challenge - to believe in the good news. Whereas the first three weeks we focused on conversion, penance and works of mercy, the last two weeks focus on faith.

The first reading shows this forth in a marvelous way. God tells Jerusalem that he is finished scolding her; he has stopped punishing her for her sinfulness. He promises his people that their future will be one of prosperity instead of castigation, long life instead of untimely, violent death. He promises to re-create them so radically that their past will be forgotten, and that he can take delight in them rather than loathe them because of their sinfulness.

Of all the gospels, the gospel of John which we will be reading throughout these next two weeks stresses the importance of faith. In today's reading, Jesus is at Cana where he performed his first sign, changing water into wine. This symbolizes a new dispensation of God's grace, a new covenant. The second sign he performs is the healing of the royal official's son. A Gentile, because of his faith, benefits from Jesus' healing power. The meaning of the signs is clear - in Jesus the Father offers a new covenant which we can enter into by faith.

During these last two weeks of Lent, we celebrate the share in salvation God has given us through faith. During the first three weeks we focused on what we do to draw near to salvation, but now the focus is on what God does. If during those first three weeks we found out how week we are and how difficult it is to be faithful to the disciplines of discipleship, let us turn to God now and ask for the gift of faith that will bear fruit in our celebration of the resurrection.

Beyond the Hedges

Two sons. Their father is a landowner wealthy with cattle and teaming with servants. The sons labor on their father's property hoping that one day it will be theirs. But they both keep an eye over the hedges surrounding the property wondering whether something better awaits them beyond it. Nonetheless, they are loyal to their father and faithful to his wishes.

Then the day comes when one of them can stand it no longer. Tired of working and tired of waiting, he demands his inheritance in full and storms off to that far away land and the pleasures it promises. The other son, perhaps shocked at his brother's boldness, stays behind to help his father. Maybe he feels stuck as though there are no other options for him now that he is the only one left to help the old man. Or maybe he rubs his hands together knowing that now all the property will be his without having to split it with his prodigal brother.

Then, his brother returns. The older son is scandalized and offended by his father's forgiveness and mercy. We realize that, though the brother never physically left his father's house, in his heart he was long gone. He lived and worked in his father's house, but didn't really know his father. Maybe he thought that all his work and sacrifice would earn him his father's love. He couldn't understand that he had that love already, and that his work and sacrifice should be a generous and joyful response to that love and generosity. Now the son finds himself on the outside when the celebration takes place. Now he becomes the son who left.

The older brother embodies what happens to us when religion becomes a matter of following rules instead of loving our Father. It becomes perfect Mass attendance without perfect conversion. Our body is in the pew, but are heart is looking over the hedge at the world and its empty promises. Sacrifice embitters us rather than freeing us for service. It becomes about what we are doing for God rather than what God is doing for us. And we begin to feel entitled to honors and recognition rather than surprised by grace.

Wonderfully, whether we packed our bags and took off or whether we have become blind to the riches of life in our Father's house, we can always return. That house is always there for us and a room is always prepared for us. We just have to expect that the same mercy which our Father lavishes on us so undeservedly will be lavished on our brother and sister as well. If we are so ready and eager to accept it for ourselves, we must be just as ready to extend it to our neighbor. Otherwise, we may find ourselves on the outside when the celebration takes place.

Euthanasia Debated in Massachusetts

This week, the Massachusetts legislature debated allowing physician assisted suicide in the Commonwealth. The sponsors of the bill assure us that it will be limited only to terminally ill patients who have already exhausted all possible treatments and have undergone counseling.

While such measures are already in force in three other states and several countries around the world, enshrining a so-called "right to die" in law would raise many legal and ethical problems.

First of all, if we say that everyone has a right to die "with dignity and on their own terms", then how can the legislation be limited to the terminally ill? If I can choose when and how I'll die, then why can't I ask to be killed when I am first diagnosed with a terminal illness? Why should I have to go through treatment and counseling? And if everyone has such a right, then how can it be limited only to those who are physically ill? Why should a depressed person or person with a mental illness not be allowed to request a life-ending drug? How about other persons prone to suicide such as gay teenagers who frequently botch their attempts at killing themselves and end up with disfigurements or brain damage as a result? Why should they not be allowed to die "on their own terms." Once we call suicide, assisted or otherwise, a right, then we cannot put limits on who chooses to exercise that right.

Secondly, once we establish that someone has a right to die, then who would do the killing? Presumably it would be doctors, but what if a person's doctor has a moral issue with ending her patient's life? Could a nurse or other health care professional administer a lethal drug? Could the patient's spouse or parent do it? Would the state have to license someone to administer lethal drugs?

Such legislation also raises the spectre of doctors who are unable to make a living curing people now turning to killing them, much as Jack Kevorkian did in the 90's and as many abortion doctors do today. A shadow industry of those willing to administer lethal drugs to the ill would emerge staffed by unscrupulous people who would no doubt be willing to skirt safeguards artificially built into any right to die legislation.

Finally, if everyone has the right to die on ones own terms, what are the rights of those who decide that they want to continue living even though they are terminally ill? Will they be protected from having life support denied them by a hospital administrator or insurance manager? Will such legislation assert that everyone has a right to nutrition and hydration as long as his or her body is able to absorb it? Will any legislation declaring a "right to die on ones own terms" protect my right to continue living no matter what burden it places on others?

No one wants to see others suffer. All of us want to relieve the mental anguish of those who feel that they are a burden to their loved ones. However, our compassion has to be focused on relieving suffering and making the last days of the terminally ill as comfortable and meaningful as possible, not on killing them.

Put to the Test

How do we find out how strong something is? By testing it.

Companies put their products - whether they be cars or concrete blocks - through numerous trials to see how they will hold up under pressure. Olympic athletes race against others in their class, pushing every muscle in their bodies to see who is the fastest. Only by putting ourselves under strain and pushing ourselves to our limit can we know how strong we are.

How does God know how strong our faith is? By allowing us to be tested and seeing how we react. He allows obstacles to be placed in the way of our hopes and dreams to see if we keep our hearts set on his will or if we'll fall into despair. He allows others to bad mouth us to see if we desire his will over the esteem of our peers. And he allows temptations to dog us to see if we will remain faithful to the vows of our baptism.

In this Sunday's gospel, the Father allows Jesus to be put to the test by Satan. Normally, Satan would keep his distance from the Son of God. But Jesus has taken on a human nature, and it will be through his humanity that he will deliver all of creation from the grip of sin and death. Satan never has much trouble tempting human flesh, but to be extra sure, he waits until the end of Jesus' fast, when he is at his weakest, to attack him. Satan approaches Jesus and says to him in effect:

I know who you are. You can't expect to take this human nature thing seriously. As the Son of God, you have never wanted for anything. Will you let yourself suffer the pangs of hunger when you can turn these stones to bread? As the Son of God, the stars of the sky and the armies of heaven obey your command. Will you allow yourself to be subject to those fools, King Herod and Pontius Pilate? Or will you worship me and allow me to give you all the kingdoms of the earth to rule? As the Son of God you never feared injury or death. Would you not throw yourself off from the summit of the temple and show all of Jerusalem that your Heavenly Father will not allow one hair of your head to be harmed? Throw off your human nature with its frailty and save the world as only an Almighty God can!

Sounds tempting, doesn't it?

But Jesus does not throw off his human nature. He would rather inhale dust from the desert floor than follow the path of worldly power and glory.

Why? So that we could experience, in the weakness and suffering which is common to every person, the victory of Jesus in our flesh. If Jesus saved the world through strength and power, then only the strong and powerful could share in his victory. But if he prevails through weakness, then everyone can take part in trouncing the evil one.

Satan's testing of Jesus revealed a strength hidden in his human nature, but not the strength the Devil expected. It is the strength of faith - a strength that doesn't rely on immediate, material results - but which relies simply on God and his word. It is a strength which doesn't prove itself through violence and conquest, but through humble acceptance of suffering and weakness.

We are no better than Jesus. We will be put to the test to see how strong our faith is. It might not be God who puts us to the test or the Devil. Many times it is the people around us. They want to know if we really are who we say we are or if we are frauds. They are checking to see if we will be drawn into the gossip at the office. They want to see if we will do anything when someone ridicules Church teaching or blasphemes Jesus' holy name. People are constantly putting stumbling blocks in our way in hopes that we will fall so they can dismiss our way of life as hypocritical or superstitious.

We will have to be kind and patient in return. We will not win such people over by logical arguments and quotes from Scripture. Rather it will be our willingness to undergo it humbly that will reveal the hidden strength of faith and convince others that there is more to being Christian than following rules and attending services. Then we will share in Jesus' victory, a victory that only the meek can inherit.

This Is the Fasting I Desire

I have never had much success at fasting over the years. Even in the zeal of my youth, I could not even live up to the minimal requirement of 2 small meals and 1 normal sized meal for Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. It was not until Ash Wednesday of last year that I was able to maintain a fast through a whole day. I simply asked God to help me, and he gave me the strength to see it through. Unfortunately, I had no such success the following Good Friday.

Ironically, it has been my failures at fasting which have taught me an important lesson. Fasting is not meant to be an exercise of will power and self-control. Rather, there is a more spiritual meaning behind this traditional Lenten practice which yesterday's daily readings illumine for us.

The first reading is from the prophet Isaiah (Is. 58: 1-9). The people are lamenting that God is not taking note of their fasting. In their minds, because they have succeeded at keeping the letter of the law, God is now somehow in their debt. As the prophet puts it, "They ask me to declare what is due them." But God replies that the fasting he desires is one that brings liberty to captives. We should go without food not to feed our egos but to share what we have with the poor and hungry.

I have always found this scripture passage daunting. Who could I liberate from the yoke? I don't know anyone who is bound unjustly, and I have never had the misfortune (or fortune) of running into someone who was naked and in need of my cloak. In fact, I don't even have a cloak! But the message of this reading is that our fasting, if it is to be pleasing to the Father, must give us a heart more sensitive and compassionate to those who go without food out of poverty and want. Every day in our world there are those who do not eat so that there will be enough food for their children. Even worse, there are those who must decide which of their children they will feed on a given day. If our fasting does not connect us with them, then we are wasting our time.

If Isaiah gives us the horizontal axis of fasting (love of neighbor) then the gospel (Matt.9: 14-15) gives us the vertical axis (love of God). We fast because our bridegroom, Jesus, is no longer among us. Going without food teaches us that our true hunger is for Christ and increases within our heart a longing for his return in glory. The rumbling of our belly is easily settled with a morsel of food. But the rumbling of our heart continues throughout our lives until we are united with our Savior. This is the meaning behind the Church precept that we fast one hour before receiving the Eucharist. First of all, it focuses our attention on what it is we are about to do. Secondly, it reminds us that we do not live on bread alone, as Jesus famously told Satan in the desert, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God. Not only must fasting connect us more closely to our brothers and sisters who are in pain, but it must train our hearts to yearn for the fulfillment of all our desires, our bridegroom, Jesus Christ.

The spiritual purpose behind fasting can be lost on our weight conscious culture with its constant dieting and eating disorders. Fasting can be thought of as just another way of losing weight and looking better. On the other hand, our overabundance can lead us to forget that no amount of material possessions can give us meaning or quell the anxieties of our hearts. The discipline of fasting can not only teach us to control ourselves but to rely more on God for our needs. Then we will be free to give more generously to the poor. And God's promise through the prophet Isaiah will be realized among us:

Your light will break forth like the dawn,
And your wound will be quickly healed.

Remember You Are Dust

September 11, 2001 was a terrible day for our country and for the world. It's hard to believe that it has been over eight years now. The horrors of that day are still so fresh in our minds. We remember how everything stopped. If you were at work, you stopped what you were doing to listen to the reports. Whatever you may have been watching on TV that day was interrupted to bring the latest news of the event.

And the news was not good. Death, destruction, fire, explosions, hatred, fear: All these form the images from that tragic day. At ground zero, only smoke, rubble and ashes were left. That day changed our perspective on life, on our country and on the world. We have not been the same since.

We begin the season of Lent today. Lent is a blessed time when we stop what we are doing to observe a tragedy, the tragedy of sin. Our history as a human race is scarred by endless conflicts as a result of sin. Sin has brought nothing but death and destruction. Some of it has been devastating, like the events of September 11. Most sin, however, wreaks its havoc in small ways in our personal lives. Nonetheless, there is no one who has not been marked by the effects of sin.

However, unlike September 11 when we weren't sure how to handle the tragedy or how to prevent another one, we do know what to do about sin. God tells us through the prophet Joel in today's first reading: "Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning." Once we realize the damage that sin has worked in our lives, we have no choice but to turn to God and to show our regret in a dramatic way. This is what Lent is about. It is about returning to God and asking God to change our lives.

Today, we will mark our foreheads with ashes. It is a symbol that we are guilty of the destruction which sin has wrought in our world. But, more importantly, it is a symbol of hope. For the God who created us out of dust, can also bring good out of the world's misery and evil. We approach the altar to be marked with ashes as a sign of our repentance, as a sign that we mean to change. We bear proudly on our foreheads the mark of a God who brings life out of death.

And so sin, destruction and death are not the final chapter in human history. It has a happy ending. For, as tragically as sin has disfigured our lives, just so mercifully and completely has God saved us in Jesus Christ. Adam and Eve could never have imagined what evils their disobedience would unleash on the world. Neither could they have imagined that God, the Almighty Creator, would take on flesh and die to bring the new life of the Resurrection.

We have stopped everything to gather here today. We are fasting and not eating meat to show that we mean to change. The God who knows our hearts sees how serious we are. We can never know just how deeply our sin has offended God nor how far our bad choices have rippled out and hurt others. Nonetheless, we can know how completely we are forgiven. Marked with ashes, we can live these next forty days leading up to Easter with a new commitment to turn things around with the strength God provides.

Saint Paul sums it up best in the second reading: "We beg you not to take the grace of God in vain. For he says, 'In an acceptable time I have heard you; on a day of salvation I have helped you.' Now is the acceptable time! Now is the day of salvation!"

Blaming the Victim

Are people to blame for their own misfortunes? Is there a "karma" which assures that if we act morally good things will come to us, and in contrast, that if we act badly, evil things will boomerang back? Does that mean that every time something unfortunate happens to me I'm being punished for something wrong I've done?

In sociological circles, it is called "blaming the victim" when we claim that people must somehow deserve the misfortunes they suffer. It is a mentality which unfortunately afflicts many religious people who often see calamities as divine retribution. We have only to look at last month's earthquake in Haiti and the unfortunate remarks of Pat Robertson who claimed it was divine payback for a pact Haitians supposedly made with the devil some 400 years ago.

But it is certainly not isolated to religious types. How many people around the world - and in our country - believe that the events of 9/11 were retribution for America's misuse of power over the years?

Why is such a mentality - though often subtle and unspoken - so prevalent in our society?

First of all, blaming the victim gives us an excuse to not help those in need because they are the cause of their own suffering. We often hear people say, "He made his bed; now let him lie in it." When we are gripped by this mentality, we claim that the poor are impoverished because they are lazy. Or we might say that if we give the homeless money, they will only spend it on booze and drugs. By blaming people for the adversity they face, we can wash our hands of any responsibility to come to their aid.

Secondly, blaming the victim gives us a false sense of security. If bad things only happen to bad people, then we can keep ourselves safe simply by being good. Because we believe in God and go to church every Sunday, we can be deluded into thinking that we live a charmed life and that no misfortune can ever touch us. And when something unfortunate eventual does happen to us - when we have experienced a sudden death in the family or have lost our job unexpectedly - we wonder what evil we could have done in our lives to deserve it. We blame God for abandoning us and insist that we were entitled to better treatment because of our good behavior.

I suspect that many of us, if honest, can admit to falling into this trap in our own thinking. When we do, we are strangling off compassion for our fellow human beings and setting ourselves up for major disappointment when we realize that things do not always go our way just because we are pious. Most of all, we are perpetuating an image of God as a tyrant who is just waiting for any opportunity to smite us.

Hometown Boy Makes Good

Every Sunday, RAI Internazionale, broadcasts a Mass in Italian from one of that country's many beautiful churches. This Sunday's Mass was celebrated at the Sanctuary of Saint Blaise in Cardito near Naples. The pastor preached the following fine homily which I have taken the liberty to translate. It is a bit rambling and in need of a good editing job, but the content is excellent.



The public ministry of Jesus begins at Nazareth. He finds himself in the synagogue reading from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah is the prophet who foretold what the time of the Messiah would be like. He prophesied about hope, consolation, communion, peace, light and blessings for Israel. But, above all, Isaiah is the prophet who speaks about the people's return from exile.

Last Sunday, Jesus ends his reading of the scroll by proclaiming, "Today, this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." Jesus affirms that he is the one who brings the good news. Rather, HE himself is the good news. We would expect that those present would have leaped for joy, embraced one another and rejoiced. Instead, Jesus hears murmurs. "Isn't this the carpenter's son?" Jesus replies by telling them how difficult it is to prophecy to ones own people. Only foreigners like the widow of Zarephath and Naaman the Syrian were able to recognize the prophets Elijah and Elisha. At this point, the people become outraged. Who does he think he is? The people cannot accept that the son of Joseph, the carpenter, can be a prophet.

The reasons for rejecting him are clear. Jesus is not the Messiah they were expecting. He is not spectacular enough.

The same thing happens to us today. We ask ourselves, "What can a God made man do for us?" A severe God would do a better job of convincing us of his existence. A God who intervenes directly in our lives would be better able to inspire our adoration and devotion probably because we would expect him to do a miracle for us. However, Jesus eludes triumphalistic expectations. Why? Because he prods us along toward the truth. Because by his word he goads us to plumb the depths of our human experience. Jesus does not offer easy solutions to the inevitable sufferings of life.

We are held prisoner by our ideas of what Christianity is such that we are unable to see the true face of God. We ask ourselves, "What does the Church have to tell us about God? What does the gospel have to say about the pressing moral and ethical problems of our day?" And many continue to be scandalized by the fact that God entrusts his word into our fragile hands. He entrusts his word to us who are so often unfaithful, who are so often in need of forgiveness and continuous mercy. We run the risk of getting fixated on the messenger all the while overlooking the message - the Word, the Word which became flesh among us.

Today's gospel is not only for those who are far off, for those without faith. It is directed also to us, the faithful who go to church every Sunday. We also have to be careful not to lose the meaning of the role of prophecy in our lives. We must allow ourselves to enter into dialogue with the Word of God and to acknowledge our need for ongoing conversion otherwise we run the risk of also throwing Jesus out of the synagogue.

We live in a world which is full of paradoxes. It is a world which is satiated but at the same time desperate. It is a world which acknowledges God but at the same time does not allow him to be found. It is a world in which there is much uneasiness and dissatisfaction, but which does not allow it to be discussed. This is a world which so often accuses God of being disinterested in humanity and yet, in the face of hunger and poverty, promotes materialism and opulence.
And so, brothers and sisters, the Church, when confronted with such a world, is always in need of prophets. The Church must always be prophetic. We can never forget that, at the moment we received baptism, we were anointed and given the three-fold dignity of priest, prophet and king. The Church needs to take challenging, counter-cultural positions on the issues of the day in order to keep alive and fruitful the charism of the gospel. In the Christianity we live which too often becomes rote and confused we must discover how to become women and men who seek and accept the role of prophet. We cannot accustom ourselves to a privately held faith which consoles but does not challenge, which provokes emotions but does not change lives. And if we ask the Holy Spirit to come and actualize in us our prophetic vocation, if we are called to be witnesses to the gospel, if we are called to proclaim with not only our words but with our actions that Jesus is the Lord and that he must be the center of our lives, we should not fear because as God said to the prophet Jeremiah in today's first reading: " You will become a fortress, and I will be within you."

Jesus leaves us free to accept his challenge, to welcome the good news of a God who really and truly loves us. We are also free to be limited by our own opinions and points of view. He leaves us free to respond seriously to his offer of love. Or do we prefer to throw Jesus over the cliff because he fails to tell us what we want to hear?

Sia lodato Gesu' Cristo!