Memorial of St. Alphonsus Liguori

“Follow your heart” and “pursue your dreams” are advice often given to young people today. In eighteenth century Italy, however, young Alphonsus Liguori faced an entirely different set of expectations. Because he was “upper class” by birth, he was expected to pursue a professional career and get married to someone of his social standing. Therefore, when Alphonsus decided to enter the priesthood, his father was outraged, and refused to speak with him for two years. Alphonsus was resolute, however, and after ordination he continued his break from aristocratic expectations by serving in desolate city slums and remote mountain regions. Later, when he was named bishop in a mostly well-to-do diocese, he thought that it must be a punishment for his sins.

The experiences of St. Alphonsus Liguori remind us that when we open our hearts and allow God to touch our lives, our future will be anything but conventional, safe, or predictable. Indeed, we’ll find ourselves challenging our culture, and being challenged by it; we’ll break molds, and break out of pigeonholes; we’ll defy the expectations of others, but with grace we’ll exceed them. God’s plans are indeed full of surprises, presenting us with both joys and crosses that we could never foresee.

Today, as we continue our uncharted journeys, we’d do well to echo these words of St. Alphonsus himself: “I offer myself entirely to you (God), that you might do with me and all that belongs to me as you please.”

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

A few years back, I taught a course at my parish on the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. During one session, I spoke about the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist- how bread and wine are changed into the very Body and Blood of Christ. At one point, one of the participants raised her hand, and explained that she felt strongly moved to speak. She told how once she had been attending a daily Mass at St. Matthew’s Cathedral in downtown Washington. The priest who was preaching had just returned from Jerusalem. While he was there, he walked the famous Via Dolorosa- the Way of the Cross- the route tradition says Jesus walked on Good Friday. While she listened to this, the woman thought: “How wonderful to have been so close to Jesus!” Then at that moment, a voice in her heart said, “But not as close as I am to you now.” She knew that voice to be the voice of the Lord, and she has treasured ever since then that reminder that we are never as close to the Lord as when we receive him at Mass, in the Eucharist.


This is something we need to keep in mind as we consider today’s gospel. Jesus’ miracle of loaves and fishes is meant to teach us about the Eucharist. Because just as Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to the crowds, so too at Mass a priest does exactly the same thing: He takes bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to the congregation.

This bread that is broken, however, is no ordinary bread. As the woman in my class reminded us, that bread is the Body of Christ. Jesus is present in that consecrated bread, not in an empty, symbolic way, but in a real, personal way. That’s why we genuflect whenever we pass before a tabernacle- because Jesus himself is there.

When this bread is broken at Mass, it’s a special sign to us that Jesus is able to multiply his presence in the Eucharist just as he multiplied the bread in today’s gospel miracle. In other words, Jesus is present in the same way in the hundreds of millions of consecrated hosts, or wafers of bread, that will be consumed by faithful Catholics at Masses all around the world today.

That’s a pretty amazing thing, if you think about it. However, Jesus is able to multiply his presence in another way too. He does so through you and me. Just like the Eucharistic bread, we too are called the body of Christ. St. Paul says that we are one bread, one body. As individuals, however, we are sent forth at the end of Mass to make Jesus present in our homes and in our communities. In other words, we too are bread that is broken so that Jesus can be present in many places, all at the same time.

I know of a church in a rough part of the Bronx that is under the pastoral care of a group of Franciscan priests and brothers. They’ve made a point of getting to know the people in the neighborhood. When they meet them on the sidewalk in front of the church, they’ll often say, “Jesus is inside. Why don’t you stop in and pray?” And many people do! However, shouldn’t we be able to say that about our own homes too? Shouldn’t people be able to find Jesus under our roof because we are such good witnesses to Jesus? We must always remember that just as Jesus broke the bread to nourish everyone in the crowd, we are bread broken so that the world might be nourished through our witness to Christ.

In another, way however, many of us are already broken. Not broken bread, but broken people. We all have wounds and hurts that we carry with us, and we come to Jesus in the Eucharist, seeking to be made whole again. We come so that the hardships of life won’t crush us, but will instead bring us a little bit closer to Christ- he who was broken on the cross so that we might be healed. We seek broken bread to heal our very brokenness.

Just consider today’s gospel. Great crowds of people had followed Jesus into the wilderness- looking for hope, looking for meaning, looking for healing, looking for love, looking for God. Jesus knew their needs. He had pity on them; he cured their illnesses, and fed them until they were all satisfied.

And isn’t that what Jesus does for us in the Eucharist? Isn’t that what Jesus can do for us, right now? We come to him in our brokenness, and he in turn gives himself to us. He gives us his “eu charis,” which means “good gift” and he nourishes us, forgives us, strengthens us, heals us, and fills us with his own, abundant life. He heals our loneliness through his Real Presence. And he unites us to his sacrifice on the cross, so that we might be made whole, through his having been broken.

If you’re suffering right now- and that’s probably most of us in some way- I encourage you to attend Mass as often as you can. As I priest, I have the privilege of celebrating daily Mass, and through my ministry I’ve come to know the stories of many of those who worship with me. There’s the terminally ill patient; the lonely widower; the young man whose brother is in Iraq; the employee mistreated by her boss; the father with the sick child; the victim struggling to forgive; the addict looking for freedom; the husband with the strained marriage; the mother of the rebellious teen. We stand around the altar in our brokenness, asking Jesus to put the broken pieces back together.

And he does, because he loves us. That’s why he have us the Eucharist: To feed us as broken bread; to be present to us as broken bread; to send us forth to others as broken bread; and then, through that bread, to make us whole, once again.

Memorial of St. Martha

On our refrigerator is a little card with a picture of Jesus. On the back it says, “Lord, help me to remember that nothing will happen to me that we can’t handle together!”

I thought of this card as I reflected on Martha in today’s gospel. Martha, I think, is like so many of us today. As Jesus said, she’s “anxious and worried.” She’s also not paying attention to Jesus, which may very well be the reason she’s so stressed out in the first place. On the other hand, Martha’s sister Mary, who took the time to be with Jesus and listen to him, is calm and at peace. As Jesus said, she had the “better part.”

Perhaps something we’re meant to learn from this is that whenever we’re “anxious and worried” like Martha, we need to be like Mary and spend some time with Jesus. One thing I’ve been trying to do lately, first thing in the morning, is ask Jesus to help me turn all of my worried thoughts into opportunities for prayer, so that instead of dwelling on them and getting more stressed, Jesus might shed his light upon them and give me some of his peace. Through this little prayer, Jesus…

…reminds me that he’s in charge…

…invites me to hand all my troubles over to him…

…and, like the little card on my refrigerator, assures me that together, there’s nothing that he and I can’t handle.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072911.shtml

Thursday of Ordinary 17

Railroad crossings in England have signs which warn: Stop. Look. Listen. These actions are intended to prevent motorists or pedestrians from being struck by a moving train. They might also be an appropriate response to Jesus’ words in today’s gospel.

Our Lord spoke of the end of the age: The good is separated from the bad; some rejoice, others weep. These words can shake us up and make us feel uncomfortable. But maybe that’s Jesus’ intention.

Heaven, of course, is where God ultimately wants all of us to be. At the same time, heaven is not presented to us as a guarantee. Not because God is vindictive, but because he respects our freedom. God is indeed merciful! At the same time, we cannot take God’s mercy for granted. Not because he’s going to take it away, but because when we take God’s mercy for granted, we begin to take God for granted. And that’s not where Jesus wants us to be.

Perhaps we can understand today’s gospel as an invitation to stop, look, and listen: Stop for a moment and examine our life; Look at how we live measures up with our faith; and Listen to Jesus’ words, then put them in action. Because if we want to be with God even a fraction of as much as he wants us to be with him, then the way we live will reflect our hope.

St. Therese of Lisieux put it well: “I will do anything,” she said, “for heaven.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072811.shtml

Wednesday of Ordinary 17

“Hedge your bets” is advice we receive about many aspects of life. Are we striking out to follow our dreams? Better have a “fallback plan.” Saving money for the future? Be sure to “diversity your portfolio.” Tying the knot? Sign a “prenup” first.

Hedging our bets can sometimes be a prudent thing, as with investments and career choices. At other times, as with a “prenup,” it reflects our fear of commitment and failure.

Jesus, however, is quite clear that he doesn’t want us hedging our bets when it comes to being his disciple. His parables of the buried treasure and the pearl of great price represent his invitation for us to make a total commitment, a complete surrender, of our entire lives to him.

Such a commitment involves a great leap of faith, to be sure. But there’s a prize to be had- the riches of being a subject within the kingdom of God. Today, Jesus invites us to place all of ourselves at his disposal, so he can share all of his treasures of grace with us.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072711.shtml

Memorial of St. Joachim and Saint Anne

I imagine that most of us are familiar with the popular slogan, “WWJD: What Would Jesus Do?” It’s a good question for us to ask when facing any choice. Today, however, we might ask ourselves the question, “WWJGD: What Would Jesus’ Grandparents Do?”

I say this because today we celebrate the memorial of Sts. Joachim and Anne, the parents of Mary, and the grandparents of Jesus. It’s from St. Anne that Mary learned to be a mother, and it’s for good reason that Anne is now honored as the patron saint of all Christian mothers.

I think that Joachim and Anne’s legacy of parenthood has much to teach all of us.

Tradition has it that when Anne learned from an angel that she was to have a child, she promised to dedicate that child to God’s service forever. That may sound quaint and old-fashioned to many modern ears, but if you think about it, many parents still choose to dedicate their children to something today. Unfortunately, they dedicate them, not to the service of God, but to the pursuit of worldly goals such as money, prestige, and power.

Indeed, all of us need to choose what we will dedicate our lives to, and it’s a choice we need to renew each and every day. As we consider our options, we might ask ourselves: “What would Jesus’ grandparents do?” I think they would tell us to pursue, not to a lifetime of worldly success, but an eternity of blessedness with God. Saints Joachim and Anne, pray for us!

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072611.shtml

Feast of St. James

St. James, St. John, and their mother, from what we heard in today’s gospel, approached Jesus with a terribly selfish request. They wanted positions of power and prestige in his kingdom- something that would place them head and shoulders over their friends and fellow apostles.

It’s easy for us to cast stones at James and John. At the same time, however, most of us are probably guilty of having made selfish requests of God ourselves. In a sense, then, it’s kind of nice to know that people who eventually became saints did exactly the same thing.

It’s even nicer to know, however, they with God’s grace they were able to move beyond their selfishness. The lives of James and John show us that as our relationship with God matures, selfishness is replaced by service- a desire to serve Jesus, who himself came not to be served, but to serve, and give his life as a ransom for many. For his part, St. James- whose feast we celebrate today- did indeed achieve that greatness he desired. But he did so only through service- by drinking the chalice of Jesus, and giving his life for him.

Today is an opportunity for us to assess the state of our relationship with the Lord. Are we selfish, or servants? If all we’re asking for is “What can I get?” perhaps we should ask for one more thing: A servant’s heart.

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

While passing an airport bookstore, I had a few minutes to spare and thought I’d look to see what was on offer in the religion section. As I browsed, I passed Fiction, Romance, Business, Bestsellers, History, Children’s, even Psychology- but no “Religion” or “Spirituality” or anything like that. Frankly, I was rather surprised! But at the same time, I was reminded that our culture doesn’t often encourage us to think beyond the “here-and-now”- which, of course, our religion does.


How often do we think beyond the “here-and-now?” A factoid I read recently said that 64% of Americans today believe that they’ll go to heaven. However, I wonder how often these folks actually think about heaven? Or how much time they spend preparing for heaven?

The truth is, Jesus wants us to prepare for heaven. In fact, he wants us to make preparing for heaven the top priority in our life. If you’re a Catholic of a certain age who grew up with the old Baltimore Catechism, you’ll remember that one of the first questions was: “Why did God make you?” And the answer was: “God made me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to

be happy with Him for ever in heaven.” Very simple, but very true. God made us for heaven, and this life is meant to be a preparation for it.

Lots of people these days talk about planning for “the future.” However, when they speak about the future, they’re speaking about retirement. And that’s fine. But as Christians, the most important future we need to plan for is not retirement, but heaven. Isn’t that what Jesus says to us in today’s gospel? In his parables of the buried treasure and the pearl of great price, he speaks about spending all of one’s resources to gain the kingdom of heaven- a kingdom whose fullness we’ll encounter not in this life, but the next. Because even though we can sometimes taste a little bit of heaven on earth, it’s only after we die that we can hope to experience the real thing.

When my son was in kindergarten, he said to me: “Daddy, I learned at Mass that earth isn’t our real home. Earth is like a hotel. Our real home is in heaven!” And he was right, of course. Our real home is in heaven with God. It’s this home that we need to spend this life preparing for.

One way God helps prepare us for this life is by testing us. God tests us by presenting us with choices, because choices determine our commitments, and commitments shape our character, and it’s our character we’ll take with us into eternity. In today’s first reading from First Kings, we heard how God tested Solomon by offering him anything he might ask for. Solomon passed his test by refusing selfish gifts of power, riches, or long life, and choosing instead wisdom, that he might better serve God’s people.

God tests us in similar ways, every single day. In fact, everything that happens to us is a test, because everything that happens to us, happens for a reason. Remember: God is in control. This means that everything that happens God has allowed to happen. And everything he allows to happen he does so for a reason- often so that we can grow by being tested. We heard St. Paul speak of this in today’s reading from his letter to the Romans. He said: “We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” Why? So we can be “glorified” by being “conformed to the image of his Son.”

St. Paul is saying here that God allows all things to happen so that we can become more like his Son, and spend eternity with him in heaven. This includes not just the good things, but the bad things as well. Because it’s through the bad things that we can often grow the most, by facing the most difficult choices. That’s why God allows them to happen. As St. Augustine once wrote, “God would rather bring good out of evil than to prevent it from happening in the first place.”

If we make the right choices, God will bring good out of evils we face. For instance, they challenge us to completely surrender ourselves to God, by showing us that we aren’t in control. They give us opportunities to exercise forgiveness, grow in compassion, and learn humility. They invite us to reconsider our priorities, as so many people did after 9/11. And they remind us that heaven is our true home- that place where every tear is wiped away, and suffering is no more.

When we’re in the midst of suffering, it’s very easy for us to lose sight of this. I recently read a devotional which spoke about a bird that had flown into a house. To get it to back outdoors where it belonged, the author tried to “shoo” it with a broom. The bird, however, became frightened. It thought it was being attacked or punished, when all along the guy with the broom was trying to do it a favor. Sometimes God needs to whack us with a broom, if you know what I mean. At the time, we may think we’re being attacked or punished, but in reality God is doing us a favor, acting in love to get us moving in the right direction- the pathway to heaven.

Regardless of what our culture might tell us, heaven is our true home. Heaven is where God wants us to be for all eternity. And heaven is what God wants us to prepare for-beginning today. This is what motivates the choices God makes for us. Let’s pray for the grace that the choices we make, will be choices that lead us back home to him. As St. Therese the Little Flower once said, “I will do anything for heaven!”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072411.shtml

Friday of Ordinary 16

“Parable of the Sower” is the title Jesus gave to the gospel story we just heard. This is rather curious, I think, because the story has much more to do with seeds and soil, than it does the Sower. It would have made perfect sense for Jesus to have named it instead the “Parable of the Seed” or the “Parable of the Soil.”

But maybe Jesus intentionally named this story after the Sower because he wants us to learn something about the Sower, who is, of course, Jesus himself. And what we do learn is that Jesus the Sower scatters his seed indiscriminately, casting it not just on the rich soil, but also amongst rocks, thorns, and the hard packed earth.

The seed he scatters, Jesus explains, is the word he speaks. This means, very simply, that Jesus speaks to everyone, because he has something he wants all of us to hear. He speaks to us in spite of, or maybe because of, our hardness of heart, our greediness, our superficialities, our anxieties, our fears, our self-absorption. Jesus speaks to us even when he knows we really don’t want to listen, because he loves us, and because he knows that we can change. Regardless of what kind of soil we might be now, Jesus knows that rocks can be dislodged, weeds can be pulled, thorns can be burned, and packed soil can be loosened and softened up. He knows this because he’s done it with countless people, and he desperately wants to do it with us.

We might think of it this way: Because Jesus loves us regardless of who we are, he speaks to us right where we are, because he knows who it is, we’re meant to become.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072211.shtml

Thursday of Ordinary 16

When little kids don’t want to hear something, they’ll stick their fingers in their ears and mutter “Blah, blah, blah” to drown out whatever is being said to them. We adults are more sophisticated in how we tune things out. But we do it, nevertheless.


We need to appreciate this in order to understand Jesus’ words in today’s gospel. On the surface, they sound like Jesus spoke in parables to confuse people on purpose, and that only an elite few would comprehend his teaching. And that’s partly right: Not everyone does comprehend Jesus’ teaching. But not because Jesus wants to confuse them. It’s because people just don’t want to hear.

If you recall, Jesus quoted the prophet Isaiah. And throughout history, the message of God’s prophets has been rejected time and time again. They spoke challenging words, calling on people to change their ways and turn their lives around. And folks generally don’t like to hear that sort of thing. So they tuned out.

People tune out Jesus’ message too, and we can be just as guilty as anyone else. Jesus calls us to believe in a God we cannot see, carry a cross and suffer with him, love our enemies, forgive those who hurt us, and be humble, selfless, servants. We hear these things and sometimes we want to stick our fingers in our ears and go “blah, blah, blah.”

But ignorance isn’t bliss, when it comes to the Word of God. As hard as they may be to hear, they’re the words of truth and life. “Blessed are your ears, because they hear,” said the Lord. Jesus invites us today to take our fingers from our ears, so we can “understand with our hearts,” “be converted” and be healed.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072111.shtml

Memorial of St. Camillus de Lellis

While walking home after shopping, a woman encountered an older man with a cardboard sign which read, “Homeless, anything will help.” As she handed him a dollar, a man roared by in an SUV and yelled, “Sucker!” The woman was disturbed by this, not only because of the man’s rudeness, but also because she knew his sentiment is shared by so many. What he thought he saw was a con artist or a lazy bum. But what she saw instead was a human being in need.

When we encounter the homeless, the poor, the desperately needy, what do we see? A human being in need? If so, that’s good. Better yet, however, is to see the face of Christ himself, as did the sixteenth century Italian saint we honor today, St. Camillus de Lellis.

Thanks to a gambling addiction and an incurable war wound, he knew both poverty and pain. God’s grace, however, helped him conquer his addiction and a lifetime of serving the impoverished sick as a nurse and a priest. To assist in this ministry, he founded an order which still continues today, the Camillians, who wear a distinctive red cross on their cassocks.

St. Camillus made it a point to seek our the impoverished sick to give them consolation and practical help. On occasion, people thought his actions were foolish. If they lived today, they might call him a “sucker.” For his part, however, St. Camillus would remind his critics that, as the gospel teaches, Jesus himself is encountered in the needy, and he challenged them, and he challenges us, to do the same. “The poor and the sick are the heart of God,” he said. “In serving them, we serve Jesus the Christ.”

Memorial of St. Bonaventure

It’s one thing to read about what God is like; it’s another thing altogether to experience who God is. In a nutshell, this message is at the heart of the teaching of the saint we honor today: St. Bonaventure.

Bonaventure was a Franciscan, not least because he was healed of a childhood illness through the personal intercession of St. Francis. Bonaventure would later write the famous Life of St. Francis, and he served as the Minister General of the Franciscan order.

Bonaventure was also a great scholar. Alongside his colleague St. Thomas Aquinas, he was a thirteenth century professor of Theology at the University of Paris. Because of his great scholarship, he is recognized today as a Doctor of the Church. On account of his virtue, he is celebrated today as a saint.

As he was both learned and holy, Bonaventure was well aware that knowing God is more important than knowing about him. He wrote, “…seek (your) answer in God’s grace, not in doctrine; in the longing of will, not in the understanding; in the sighs of prayer, not in research.”

The God whom Bonaventure calls us to seek is a God of love. Bonaventure speculates that even if humankind had never sinned, God would still have become one of us in Jesus, because God loves us so much that he always has wished to live among us as one of us. Nevertheless, Jesus had to die for our sins on the cross, which Bonaventure tells us to reflect upon “full of faith, hope, and charity, devoted, full of wonder and joy, marked by gratitude, and open to praise and jubilation.”

Bonaventure the scholar would never discourage us from seeking Jesus with our head. But Bonaventure the saint challenges us to seek Jesus, most of all, with our heart.

Memorial of Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha

Conversion often comes at a price- a reality that our Lord made quite clear in today’s gospel. He warned that following him would break up entire families. “One’s enemies will be those of his own household,” he said.

This is as true today as it was in Jesus’ day, especially in those places where becoming Christian is understood as rejecting one’s cultural heritage, as is experienced by converts in predominantly Muslim or Hindu lands. In our society, converts might be thought of as crazy; in other societies, converts can be thought of as almost criminal.

This was the experience of Blessed Kateri, whose memorial we celebrate today. We call her the “Lily of the Mohawks,” but her uncle and adoptive father, a seventeenth century Mohawk chief, did not think of her in such glowing terms. When she became a Catholic with the help of French missionaries, her family treated her as a slave, and even denied her food on Sundays, since she refused to work on the Sabbath. Ultimately, her life became endangered, and she was forced to flee to a Catholic community some 200 miles away, where she remained the rest of her short life.

Blessed Kateri’s witness can remind all of us that we need to place allegiance to Christ above anything else that may lay claim to us, and regardless of what the cost may be. As she herself said: “I am not my own. I have given myself to Jesus.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/071411.shtml

Wednesday of Ordinary 15

When my son Charlie was 3, he said to me: “Daddy, when I grow up, I’m going to be an astronaut, a fireman, a librarian, and a teenager! For him to have said this is pretty normal. Most children, even though they enjoy being kids, sincerely look forward to growing up.

I think this childlike desire to grow up can help us understand Jesus’ words in today’s gospel. If you recall, Jesus said that God doesn’t reveal himself to “the wise and the learned”- people who think they have it all figured out, who in their mind can see no need to grow. Instead, our Lord continued, it is to the childlike that God is revealed- those who recognize their need to “grow up,” so to speak, in God’s grace.

This should present a challenge to us. Maybe today we need to examine ourselves and ask: Do I recognize my need to grow? Do I really want to grow? What should I do in order to grow? And then we should look forward with excitement to what we’ll become when we do “grow up”- not a fireman, not an astronaut, certainly not a teenager- but a saint, completely refashioned into the image of Christ.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/071311.shtml

Tuesday of Ordinary 15

Mother Teresa once said, “The only thing that should make us weep is the fact that we aren’t saints!” But do we weep over this?

I ask this because it’s so easy to fall into the trap of thinking: “Hey, maybe I’m not a saint, but I am a pretty decent person, all things considered.” And I would imagine that most of us ARE pretty decent people. Which is a good thing!

However, Jesus hasn’t called us to decency. Instead, Jesus calls us to sainthood. And if we’re to take his call to sainthood seriously, we need to take our sinfulness seriously.

I think this is what today’s gospel is calling us to do. If you recall, Jesus was angry with the people of certain cities. He had done “mighty deeds” in their midst, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. They didn’t repent; they didn’t try to change.

For us, Jesus has done more than “mighty deeds.” Jesus died for us- because he takes our sins seriously. In gratitude, so should we. We need to repent; we need to try and change. Because every time we sin, it’s as if Jesus is nailed to the cross, all over again.

Pope John Paul II put it well. “When we forget we are sinners,” he said, “we forget our need for Christ. And when we forget our need for Christ, we have lost everything.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/071211.shtml

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

When I moved into my home eleven years ago, I inherited a backyard that once had been landscaped and beautiful. Yet everything had become completely overgrown with weeds, all because it has hardly been touched for nearly twenty years. As the man from whom I bought the house said, “If you don’t stay on top of it, nature quickly takes over.” Ever since then I’ve spent many hours my yard- weeding, tilling, mulching, seeding, planting, fertilizing, and weeding again. And as soon as I think I can take a break, “nature quickly takes over,” and the crab grass and weeds make their appearance once again.

I thought of my yard as I reflected on today’s gospel. Jesus told us that he wants us to be good soil that is receptive to the seed of his word and brings forth abundant fruits of the Spirit. Yet in order for us to become this type of soil, we need to invest effort, discipline, and time- just like with my backyard. Because the moment we don’t stay on top of it, our fallen human nature quickly takes over.

This is because when we aren’t attentive to God’s word, other voices will quickly fill the void. And then it’s these voices- and not God’s word- that will shape our thoughts, actions, and our character. Specifically, I’m referring to the voices of our culture, common sense, and our feelings.

The voice of our culture was loud and clear the other day as I sat next to two young women on an airplane who were deeply engrossed in a copy of “Cosmopolitan” magazine. From what I could see and hear, the articles were all about explicit love-making techniques, horoscopes, shopping, and beauty products: a spirit-killing diet of materialism, self-gratification, superstition, and soft porn. This reminded me that as Christians we need to be very, very careful about our media intake if we don’t want the voice of culture to drown out the voice of God.

The voice of “common sense” of can also be ungodly, although in a less obvious way. Yet if you think about it, so much of what Jesus taught us, and so many of his commandments to us, simply defy common sense. For instance, Jesus teaches us to love our enemies…to carry a cross…to humble ourselves as a servant…to give without counting the cost…that marriage is forever…that all life is sacred…that we should trust only in God. Yet common sense would have us hate our enemies, avoid suffering, promote ourselves, maximize our returns, divorce without fault, judge life by it’s so-called “quality”, and trust in our own abilities. Truly, common sense and godly wisdom can be very different things indeed!

Then there’s the voice of emotion. I imagine that we’ve all done things that felt right at the time but that we came to regret later on. Or maybe we’ve tried to convince ourselves that what we were doing was right because we were feeling afraid or angry or lonely or were caught up in the excitement of the moment. Feelings like this are given to us by God. They serve a purpose and we need to pay attention to them. Yet they can lead us down the wrong path if we’re not grounded in the Word of God.

That’s why Jesus says it’s so important for us to listen to God’s word. In today’s gospel, Jesus quoted a passage from the prophet Isaiah. It said that when we listen to God’s word, God can change us, and God can heal us. And deep down, that’s what we all want! But if we truly wish to receive these gifts, we truly need to listen. Lots of people came out to see Jesus in today’s gospel, but not all of them really listened. I imagine that’s probably true of our gathering today as well. I confess that I can be just as guilty as anyone else about letting my mind wander during the Biblical readings or a homily. Yet the truth is, as I heard it put recently, that we should listen at Mass as if we were listening to the instructions on how to open our own parachute!

Of course we need to do far more than be attentive at Mass in order to truly hear all that God wishes to say to us. As Catholics, we believe that God’s word comes to us in two ways: through the pages of Holy Scripture, and in the authentic teachings of the Church. We need to make it a priority to be receptive to both.

Bishop Robert Morneau of Green Bay says that whenever he confirms young people, he always tells them to remember two numbers: 144 and 168. 144 is the number of ten-minute periods in a day, and 168 is the number of hours in the week. He then asks them from that point on to give ten minutes a day to the study of God’s word and one hour every week to attend Sunday Mass.

And surely that isn’t too much to ask when it comes to the word of God. In reality, it should be just the beginning, or a bare minimum. We’re all busy people. Yet at the same time a typical American today spends dozens of hours each week in front of a television set, not to mention a computer screen. But if we stopped watching one thirty-minute television program a day and read Scripture instead, we could read through the entire Bible twice a year.

I’ve heard it said that one can’t become an effective preacher if all you read is Sports Illustrated. It’s just as true to say that we won’t become strong Christians if we fail to take in the Word of God. Our soil will become shallow, rocky, and weed-infested: precisely what Jesus warns against! We’ll become worldly people, instead of the people of God. That’s why what Jesus told the crowds, he also says to us: “Whoever has ears,” he said, “ought to hear.”

Friday of Ordinary 14

Three individuals came to mind as I read today’s gospel. The first is a married woman, distressed because her husband left the Catholic Church for an anti-Catholic sect which is pressuring her to join too.

The second is a recent high school graduate preparing for college. She’s concerned that her faith will be challenged on campus through peer pressure, ideas and philosophies she’ll encounter in class, and a culture sometimes hostile to her religion.

An elderly Chinese bishop is the third person. He was recently featured in National Geographic, and he recalled years of government persecution of the Catholic Church in his native land.

On account of their Catholicism, all three experience opposition- from family, society, governments, other religious groups. Just as Jesus said the twelve apostles would face. His words to them in today’s gospel are words which are just as true for us today, because we too encounter resistance to our faith.

In a nutshell, what Jesus says to us is: don’t be surprised when it happens; trust in the Spirit when it does; be shrewd but simple; and persevere throughout it all. If we do, chances are we’ll find our faith is stronger in the end. The Chinese bishop, who is witnessing a Church renewal in his country, knows this well. “The more the suppression,” he said, “the more the rebound.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/070811.shtml

Thursday of Ordinary 14

Money is something that many people worry about, and most couples fight over. When it comes to our money, the Lord certainly calls us to be good stewards of it. But he doesn’t want it to be a source of anxiety or conflict.


Just consider what Jesus told his apostles in today’s gospel. He instructed them to

1. Travel light;

2. Live simply;

3. Trust that the Lord would provide; and

4. Be concerned, not about money, but with doing the Lord’s work.

This was his commandment to his apostles. And it’s his good advice for us.

Wednesday of Ordinary 14

A story is told of seminarians who asked a professor to choose a Scripture verse to print at the bottom of their class picture. Evidently the professor didn’t think too highly of this group, because the verse he suggested was John 11:37. When the seminarians opened their Bibles, they were distressed that John 11:37 says, “Jesus wept.”

One wonders if the professor would have chosen this same verse for a class portrait of the first twelve apostles, whose appointment by the Lord we heard in today’s gospel. At times, they were certainly a less-than-impressive group of people. They frustrated Jesus because they often didn’t “get it.” Simon Peter could be hot-tempered and cowardly. James and John were vengeful and proud. Thomas had his doubts. And then of course, there was Judas, the greedy betrayer.

However, all this should remind us that the Lord uses less-than-perfect people to do his work, spread his gospel, build his kingdom, and be his friends. This was true of the Twelve apostles. And it’s certainly true of us.

This can console and encourage us, because sometimes we look at ourselves and think: “Why on earth would God choose me?” The truth is, all of us are bundles of imperfections, weaknesses, and sins. Yet Jesus calls us as we are and uses us as we are. Yes, he invites us to greater holiness and gives us the grace to grow into his image. But he doesn’t wait for us to be perfect in order to make us his servants. If Jesus used only perfect people, not too much would get done, because it would be just he and his Mother. That’s why, as the old slogan goes, “Jesus doesn’t call the qualified; he qualifies the called.” He qualified the apostles, and eleven of them became saints! And that’s his plan for us, too.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/070611.shtml

Tuesday of Ordinary 14

Jesus' heart was moved with pity, today's gospel tells us, when he saw a troubled and abandoned crowd. Because they were like "sheep without a shepherd," Jesus turned to his friends and insisted that they "beg" the "harvest master," God the Father, for more "laborers"- people to serve them and help them.

This, however, begs certain questions: if this need is so urgent, why does it have to be begged for? If Jesus is aware of the situation, and presumably his Father as well, why don't they just take care of the problem themselves? Why should we have to beg for something they already know we need?

It's true that Jesus wants more laborers. That's clear from today's gospel. However, Jesus wants us to ask the Father for them, because he wants us to want the same things he wants, and to express those desires in prayer. It's as simple as that. It's a matter of our wills becoming aligned with God's, which should be the whole focus of our Christian lives.

St. Catherine of Siena put it well: "You will show that you are indeed alive, when you harmonize your will with God's.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/070511.shtml

Monday of Ordinary 14

We meet two individuals in today's gospel: a synagogue ruler who has just lost a child, and a destitute woman at the end of her rope. At one level, there two persons are very similar, because they both have great faith in the power of Jesus to heal. At a more worldly level, however, they couldn't be more different. The synagogue leader was a powerful and respected member of his community; the widow, on the other hand, dwelt at the margins of society.

If we were in Jesus' shoes, we might be tempted to exploit the one and disregard the other. That's because so often we seek our own advantage in any given situation; our first question is: "What's in it for me?"

But not Jesus. Our Lord is motivated only by purest love, and his concern is only for our good, our salvation.  With Jesus everyone has a level playing field. He's never take advantage of us, or disregard us. Today's psalm summed it up well: "The Lord is good to all, and compassionate to all his creatures."

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

They are the best of times and the worst of times, explained a bishop in paraphrase of Charles Dickens. He wrote those words while he struggled with cancer, and not long before he died. They were the worst of times, he said, because of the physical pain, anxiety, and fear with which he struggled. But they were the best of times because of the peace he came to enjoy through God’s grace.

The bishop described how, just one day after publicly announcing his impending death, he presided at a communal anointing of the sick at a parish church. In his homily, he preached that when facing serious illness or any other difficulty, we as Christians need, first and foremost, to put ourselves completely in the hands of the Lord. We must believe that the Lord loves us, embraces us, and never abandons us, especially in our most difficult moments. It is this faith, he explained, that will give us hope in the midst of life’s suffering and chaos. Then he quoted words from today’s gospel: “Come to me all you who are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you. Take my yoke upon your shoulders and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart. Your souls will find rest, for my yoke is easy and my burden light.”

This was one of his most cherished Scripture passages. It also happens to be a favorite passage of mine, and perhaps it’s one of yours too. It sounds very comforting and soothing- almost too good to be true! At the same time, Jesus’ words also seem to present us with a contradiction. This is because most people, including myself, don’t associate “rest” with a “yoke.” When I think of a yoke, the first image that comes to mind is that of sweaty oxen laboring to pull a plow across a muddy field- not a very refreshing or relaxing picture! Therefore, we need to ask ourselves: Just what did Jesus mean by his “yoke?”

To answer this question, we need to understand that most of the first-century Jews in Jesus’ audience believed God to be distant, unknowable, mysterious, and impersonal. Coupled with this image of God was the understanding that following him involved the keeping of 613 very specific commandments. These elaborate rules, created by the Pharisees, were often called the “yoke of the Law,” for pretty obvious reasons. To the everyday person back then, it was a cumbersome and heavy burden to bear. It must have been physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausting.

Two thousand years later, things haven’t changed very much. As they did in Jesus’ time, some people today believe God to be distant, impersonal, or uncaring. They pray, but they don’t receive the answer they expect; they suffer, and conclude that God doesn’t care; they search for God, but their eyes aren’t yet open to his revelation. Other people have been “turned off” from following God, especially as a Catholic Christian, because they think it’s mostly about keeping a bunch seemingly endless rules and regulations.

Thankfully, Jesus’ words speak to us today just as much as they spoke to people back then. You see, the yoke Jesus invites us to wear isn’t a list of rules handed down by an impassionate God. Instead, the yoke Jesus refers to is Jesus himself! In other words, he is asking us to yoke ourselves to him. Because it’s only when we’re united with him that we’ll find the refreshment and rest that he promises, and that we long for. To quote the bishop we heard of earlier, “The ‘rest’ (Jesus) offers us comes from adopting and living each day his attitudes, his values, his mission, his ministry, his willingness to lay down his very life- in whatever circumstances we find ourselves.”

It’s important to stress that Jesus didn’t say that he would take away our burdens. What he did promise was to help us carry them. In other words, Jesus is saying is that if we yoke ourselves to him, the burdens we have will become lighter, because he will help us bear the load. In fact, Jesus has already taken the load from us. On the cross he took upon himself all of the suffering and agony of a broken humanity that we might be redeemed and healed. Today he invites us to add our burden to that load, so that it will be his strength, and not ours, that will bear it up. Think of it this way: A yoke joins a pair of oxen together and makes them a team. When we’re yoked with Jesus, he pulls our load alongside us, offering us the grace of hope, courage, and perseverance.

This was the experience of the dying bishop during his final days. The spreading cancer filled him with a pervasive fatigue that seemed to increase with each passing day, forcing him to spend most of his time lying down in bed. Nevertheless, he was filled with peace. He had come to know- perhaps more then than he’d never known before- that he was in the hands of the Lord: a Lord who shouldered his burden, a Lord who shared his suffering, and a Lord who waited to take him home to a place where his burdens would be no more. It’s as St. Catherine of Siena once said: “If we wish to have peace, we must rest our heart and soul with faith and love in Christ crucified. Only then will our soul find complete happiness.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/070311.shtml