Memorial of St. Therese of Lisieux

After a school Mass, a young girl walked up and asked me point-blank: “Father, who should I believe in more: God or myself?” With hesitating I said, “Definitely God, because we can fool ourselves.” She paused for a moment, said “Thank you,” and quietly walked away. I have a feeling that she found my answer less than convincing.

Young people today are told over and over again that they need to believe in themselves. Popular books and movies like High School Musical encourage young people to resist peer pressure so they can be themselves with confidence, because everyone is unique and special. And that’s a good message: we should want young people to love themselves and approach adulthood with a healthy confidence. What we don’t want is for them to believe or trust in themselves more than they believe or trust in God.

Today we celebrate the life of a saint, Therese of Lisieux, who would certainly tell young people that they’re unique and special. “Our Lord takes a special interest in each soul,” she said, “as if there were no other like it.” She would also tell young people to be themselves with confidence. “Perfection,” she wrote, “consists simply in…being just what (God) wants us to be.” But you’ll note that all her advice springs from her belief in God: We’re special, because God made us special; we can be true to ourselves, when we’re true to what God wants for us.

And that’s a message that everyone needs to hear today, both young and old. St. Therese says: Be yourself by believing in God, who loves you, just for being you.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/100111.cfm

Memorial of Saint Jerome

One night when she was three, my eldest daughter was getting ready for bed, when all of a sudden she exclaimed, “Daddy, we forgot the read the Bible!” We had been reading from a children’s Bible each night before bedtime, and I was delighted that she enjoyed it enough to ask for it when it was missed. I want her to grow into an adult who reads Scripture and is nourished by God’s Word, as I am blessed to do.

Forty years ago, the Second Vatican Council strongly encouraged Catholics to read the Bible, because it’s God living Word through which he speaks to us as friends. Unfortunately, recent surveys reveal that many Catholics rarely read their Bibles, often because they think that it’s a book for the clergy, and not for laypersons like them.

Today we celebrate the life of a saint who loved the Bible very much: St. Jerome. He was a great commentator on Scripture, and he was responsible for having translated the Bible into Latin, which was the common language in his day. His Latin translation, the Vulgate, is still the official text of the Scriptures used by the Church even now.

St. Jerome passion for the Bible is an inspiration for us to become acquainted with Holy Scripture, and if we already are, to become acquainted even more. Because as St. Jerome himself said: “Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/093011.cfm

Saints Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael

Angels are present with us right now, and at each and every Mass. We join our voices with theirs when we sing “Holy, Holy, Holy.” We echo their Christmas song of joy when we proclaim: “Glory to God in the highest!” In the first Eucharistic prayer we ask that God’s angel may take our sacrifice to his altar in heaven. And the Body of Christ we receive at Holy Communion is known to us as the “bread of angels.”

However, we honor the angels in a particular way today, especially the three archangels mentioned by name in Scripture: Saints Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. And perhaps it’s a good thing for us to be reminded today of their power and their presence amongst us, because we cannot see them! Angels are invisible, spiritual beings.

We also know that angels distinguish themselves in three ways. First, they are servants of the Lord who do his will. According to Scripture, they protected Jesus in his infancy, ministered to him after his wilderness temptations, strengthened him during his agony in the garden, and will assist him at the final judgment. They continue to serve him today, and we can and should ask for their help and protection.

Second, angels tell the good news of Jesus. Indeed, the very word “angel” means “messenger.” Angels announced our Lord’s birth to Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds; they proclaimed his resurrection at the empty tomb; and they will herald his return in glory.

Third, the angels praise and adore God’s name for all eternity in heaven, and they continually worship God before his throne.

You and I are not angels; we are human beings. However, we too in our own way are made to love, serve, worship, and bear witness to the glory of God. This is our purpose for living and our hope for all eternity. Yet so often we get sidetracked from this by ambition, distracted by trivialities, or derailed by life’s problems. Perhaps then the angels can remind us, today and every day, of what’s really important in life. At our funeral the congregation will pray: “May the angels of God lead you into paradise.” In the meantime, in imitation of the angels, let’s try to make a little bit of that paradise, here on earth.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/092911.cfm

Memorial of St. Lawrence Ruiz and Companions

A recent survey revealed that a majority of Americans approve of torture under certain circumstances, and Catholics approve of it more than the general public! That’s ironic, since so many Catholics saints have been victims of torture. One such victim was St. Lawrence Ruiz, whose memorial we celebrate today.

Although he is the first native-born Filipino saint, Lawrence Ruiz was martyred in Japan during the persecution of Nagasaki Catholics in the early seventeenth century. Before he was martyred, St. Lawrence was subjected to unspeakably painful torture. He was forced to drink mass quantities of water, after which a board was placed on stomach. Soldiers then jumped on ends, forcing water from his ears, his nose, nose, and his mouth. Bamboo needles were forced under his fingertips. Then, after having been bound tightly to restrict breathing and circulation, he was hung upside down in a pit. Lawrence lasted three days like this, and was finally beheaded.

Such horrific cruelty should impress upon all Christians the unacceptability of any torture. True, not all people being tortured today are saints. But regardless of who is being tortured, it’s a crime against human dignity. Sometimes torture is promoted in the name of national security. When it comes to torture, however, the ends never justify the means. Sometimes torture is defended as a fair punishment for serious crimes. But two wrongs never make a right. As Pope Benedict has said, “I reiterate that the prohibition against torture cannot be contravened under any circumstances.”

Our faith challenges us to work for the end of torture. So that what happened to St. Lawrence Ruiz- so that what happened to Jesus our Lord- won’t have to happen to anyone else.

Monday of Ordinary 26

Toward the end of his life, Albert Einstein removed from his wall the portraits of two famous scientists, Isaac Newton and James Maxwell. In their place, he hung pictures of Mahatma Gandhi and the medical missionary, Albert Schweitzer. When asked why he did this, Einstein explained that it was time to replace the image of success with the image of service.

This is precisely what Jesus tried to do for his disciples in today’s gospel. The disciples were preoccupied with success. That’s why they argued about who was the greatest. But Jesus challenged their attitude by placing a child in the midst. To serve a child, you see, could in no way bring them any worldly success. But it would make them great in the kingdom of God.

Like the disciples, our culture today often seems more concerned with success than it does with service. We see this attitude whenever children are perceived as obstacles to lifestyles and careers; it’s seen in crumbling relationships where people are focused only on their own needs; it’s seen whenever the workplace becomes a “dog eat dog” rat race; it’s seen whenever people do things simply to enhance their resume or college application; and it’s seen in the church whenever worship and prayer take a backseat to meetings, quotas, and agendas.

This may be the world’s way, but it is not our way. Jesus calls each one of us today to lives of service, and not the pursuit of success. As his disciples, we’re to be concerned not with self-promotion, but self-donation- with giving of ourselves for the benefit of others. Just as Jesus did for us on the cross; just as he does for us in this Eucharist.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/092611.cfm

Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

As I watched a young boy play a popular video game, I was surprised at how many times his character could be killed and come back to life. He’d fall into a fiery pit, get chomped by alligators, and be crushed by a boulder, but it didn’t seem to matter. It fact, the boy thought it funny to make these things happen to his character! He explained that although his character might lose points, it couldn’t really be killed, no matter what he did. Another adult with me said, half in jest but half seriously too: “What is this teaching our kids?” She was worried that perhaps they’re being taught that actions don’t have consequences.

That actions do have consequences is a primary point of today’s first reading, from Ezekiel. Simply put: Sin is punished and virtue is rewarded, and it’s up to us to choose between them.  Evidently people back then needed to be reminded of this. But perhaps we need reminding too. These days we place a great deal of emphasis on God’s mercy. As well we should, because God is merciful!  But there’s a danger that emphasizing God’s mercy can lead us to take it for granted, something the Church has traditionally referred to as the sin of “presumption.” When we presume upon God’s mercy, we figure we can do whatever we want, and it just won’t make a difference what we do. Kind of like the character in my son’s video game. We think: God is so forgiving, that at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter what we do.

But what we do does matter to God. Consider today’s gospel story. Jesus told a parable of two sons. One said initially that he would do his father’s will, but then didn’t do it, while the other son said at first that he wouldn’t obey, but then changed his mind and did. When he explained this parable’s meaning, Jesus raised a few eyebrows, because he said that “tax collectors and prostitutes”- the obvious public sinners of the day- were entering the kingdom of God before the chief priests and elders, who considered themselves to be decent religious people. The former heard God’s call to change their ways, while the others did not, as they thought there was nothing to change. They were presumptious.

Most of us, I imagine, probably consider ourselves to be decent religious people. That’s why we need to listen to Jesus words today, because they’re directed at us. It’s easy for us to look down upon the “tax collectors and prostitutes” of our day and think: “Boy are their lives a mess!” We compare ourselves to them and conclude that, all things considered, our lives are pretty much in order. And maybe they are. But we need to be careful, because it’s easy when we think this way to fall into presumption and conclude that since we’re fundamentally good people, it doesn’t really matter what we do, because God is so good and forgiving. Like the chief priests and elders in today’s gospel, we become deaf to God’s call to continued conversion.

In all fairness, it’s sometimes easier for the “tax collectors and prostitutes” of the world to hear that call. It can become very obvious to those stuck in serious sin that something’s not right with their lives- especially if they hit rock bottom and realize there’s nowhere else to turn but to God!

 With us, we may not feel such a need for conversion. In fact, we may actually feel rather good about ourselves. One of the myths of modern pop psychology is that feeling good about one’s self is a sign of health. But that’s not always the case. It seems that that’s how the religious people in today’s gospel were feeling. That’s why they were so shocked and angry when Jesus suggested that they weren’t as close to God’s kingdom as they thought they were.

The truth is, as taught by the saints down through the ages, that that the closer we get to God, the more aware we become of our own sinfulness, and our distance from God. This means that if we aren’t aware of our sinfulness, we might not be as holy as we think we are. In today’s responsorial psalm, the author recalled his sins and cried: “Remember your mercies, O Lord.” Today, maybe God is saying to us: “Remember my mercies, O my people.”

Now, this isn’t meant to make us hate ourselves or become discouraged. Instead, God is calling us to action, repentance, and continued conversion. God doesn’t want us to be lulled into complacency and presume upon his mercy. Instead, he wants us to accept our need for change.

To do this, there are three things we might do. First, we can consult a good examination of conscience and use it regularly. This will help us become more aware of areas of sinfulness in our lives that we may have been overlooking, or never were aware of in the first place.  Second, we can ask others to help us. As the sixth century spiritual writer St. John Climacus once observed, “God has arranged so that no one can see his own faults as clearly as his neighbor does.” Third, we can ask God to help us, because God knows us better than we know ourselves. We can pray to God: “Show me where I need to grow. Reveal to me what I need to change. Help me to see myself as you see me!”

And what does God see? Yes, he sees sin and brokenness. He sees someone who needed redeeming, and who needs guidance and grace. But more than this, he sees someone he loves. Someone for whom he has plans. Someone he created to become a saint. Someone with whom we wants to spend all eternity. God is indeed merciful! And he wants us to receive his mercy. Just not take it for granted.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/092511.cfm

           

Thursday of Ordinary 25

King Herod, both Scripture and history tell us, was a cruel and immoral ruler. Today’s gospel tells us that he was “greatly perplexed” by Jesus’ ministry, because he understood Jesus to be a threat to his authority.

Herod, of course, was no friend of Jesus. However, even Christians can sometimes think of Jesus as a threat. This is because most of us have little corners of our lives in which we’re afraid to let Jesus enter in.

• Maybe we don’t want to make the effort to live the life that Jesus wants us to live;
• Maybe we fear the changes that conversion and discipleship demand of us, because we don’t want to step out of our “comfort zones;” 
• Maybe we know that Jesus will ask us to cast aside certain things we’ve become attached to- be they habits, attitudes, possessions, even relationships;
• Maybe we’re unsettled by the fact that Jesus knows and loves us as deeply as he does, because we’re afraid of intimacy;
• Maybe we dread the crosses we may be called upon to carry.

And so we try to keep Jesus at a safe distance. We rationalize that we’re doing the best we can and that our relationship with Jesus is fine, just as it is. We try to convince ourselves that we’re a “good enough” Christian, relatively speaking, when in reality we’re lukewarm at best.

The problem, however, is that when we keep Jesus at arm’s length, he remains a distant acquaintance, instead of becoming a close friend. But Jesus wants far more for us than this; he longs to be our close friend. And deep down, we all want him to be our friend too.

Jesus challenges us today to surrender all of ourselves to him, as he surrendered all of himself for us; he invites us to replace our fears with his courage, that he might fill us with himself.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/092211.cfm

Feast of St. Matthew the Apostle

St. Matthew knew what it was like to feel excluded. Although he was Jewish, he was shunned by other Jews, because his work as a tax collector made him a collaborator with the hated Romans. Socially, he was an outsider, and outcast. His fellow countrymen wanted nothing to do with him.

We can only imagine that this exclusion filled him with loneliness and pain. Maybe that’s why, when Jesus said to him, “Follow me,” Matthew jumped at the chance. He wanted desperately to be welcomed and included. Which is precisely what Jesus does.

When Jesus dined at Matthew’s house later that day, Jesus was happy to sit and eat with more excluded people- other tax collectors and people identified only as “sinners.” Jesus welcomed them as well- something he does throughout the gospels, including the one that bears St. Matthew’s name.

Jesus invites everyone to be his disciple and enter his kingdom- regardless of race, ethnicity, nationality, gender, age, education, income or appearance. Jesus welcomes all people without exception, because all of us are sinners in need of redemption, and all of us are equally loved by God the Father.

Jesus challenges us today to be as welcoming and inclusive as he is. This may involve examining some of our actions and attitudes. For instance, do we harbor racist thoughts or tendencies? Do we look down on people we think are beneath us economically or socially? Do we envy or resent those we think are above us economically or socially? Do we see members of the opposite sex as equals? Do we scorn the young or marginalize the elderly? Are we intellectual snobs or athletes who mock non-jocks? Are we indifferent to the needs of persons with disabilities? Are we the pious who scorn the unbelieving or unrighteous? Do we ignore or avoid those who are different from us in some way?

If we answer “Yes” to any of these questions, it’s time for an attitude adjustment, so we can each do our part to bring about the vision St. Paul spoke of in our first reading: that we be one family, celebrating one faith, united in one Lord.

Readings for today's Mass:http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/092111.cfm

Memorial of Saint Andrew Kim

Whenever I think of religion in Asia, Buddhism and Confucianism automatically spring to my mind. How surprised I was to learn that in South Korea today, a tiny fraction of the population is Confucian, 26% is Buddhist, and 26% is Christian- 10% of whom are Catholic. This means that Christianity is tied, numerically speaking, as the largest religion in that Asian nation. Which is remarkable, considering that Christianity was introduced there just over 200 years ago, and the first native-born priest was ordained only in 1846.

That priest was St. Andrew Kim Taegon, whose feast we celebrate today. But it’s not just his feast. We also honor St. Paul Chong Hasang, who was a lay catechist, and his companions, the 103 Korean martyrs of the 19th century, the vast majority of whom were lay people. Indeed, it was the laity who first introduced Catholicism to Korea. It was lay leaders who helped it flourish before the first priests arrived decades later. And Korean Catholicism continues to flourish with a strong and committed laity.

Today’s celebration gives us the opportunity to rejoice, be challenged, and make a commitment. We can rejoice in the Church’s growth amongst the Korean people; we (as clergy and clergy candidates) can be challenged by the fact that the Korean church’s strength has come largely from faithful lay people; and we can commit ourselves to build up the Church in our nation, that the fruits of the Spirit manifested in Korea, may be enjoyed in the United States.

Monday of Ordinary 25

A few years back, I wrote a children’s poem about the Christmas story. As it took shape, I thought that my little poem wasn’t half bad. That’s when the temptation arose for me to switch my focus from writing it for the benefit of my family, to writing it so I could make some extra dough. In writing, I was using a gift God had given me, but with the wrong intention.

God gives to each of us special gifts, talents, and opportunities. They’re given so that we might serve God, bless our neighbors, and grow as people. In receiving them, the question we should ask is, "How can I use them to glorify God?" Sadly, in our materialistic culture, the question we typically ask is: "How can I use them to make some money?" That may be good capitalism, but it's poor Christianity.

God wants us to use the gifts he gives us. That’s what Jesus meant when he said that we need to set our light on a lampstand instead of hiding it under a bushel. But, as Jesus continued, we let our light shine, not so that we might be able to see, but so that “those who enter may see the light.”

In other words, God’s gifts aren’t simply for our own benefit, but are for the benefit of others. They’re to be used primarily to help people, instead of helping our bottom line. They’re given that might be prophets, instead of seeking a profit.

Today's gospel challenges us to see and use all of what God has given us, not to build up our bank accounts, but to build up the kingdom of God.

Readings for today's Mass: http://usccb.org/bible/readings/091911.cfm

St. Robert Bellarmine

St. Robert Bellarmine’s parents had vastly different visions of what they wanted their son to be when he grew up. His father wanted him to become a wealthy politician. His mother, a devout woman and a niece of a pope, had other plans. She dreamed her son would become a Jesuit.

Guess who won? St. Robert did indeed become a Jesuit. Even more, he was appointed a cardinal and distinguished himself as one of the most influential theologians of late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, advising popes and engaging kings, Protestant leaders, and scientists in the pressing debates of his day. In honor of his work, he was named a Doctor of the Church.

But I wonder if things might have turned out differently, had St. Robert been born in 2011, instead of 1542? I wonder if his mother would have hoped he’d become a priest at all. Parents today are far less willing than they were in the past to encourage their sons to be priests, in part because they fear that priests wind up being unhappy people. Scientific studies have shown, however, that on average, priests are among the happiest men in America, because, first and foremost, they understand themselves as servants of the Lord. Yet that’s an understanding that all of us can apply to ourselves, whether we’re priests or not, because we’re all called and created, in whatever we do, to be servants of God. As St. Robert himself said: “If you are wise, then know that you have been created for the glory of God and your eternal salvation. This is your good; this is the center of your life; this is the treasure of your heart.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/091711.cfm

Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

A very committed Catholic man once shared with me an experience he had with his dad, who was adamantly not a Catholic, or even a Christian of any stripe. The two of them were watching together a movie called The Scarlet and the Black. It’s the true story of Monsignor Hugh O’Flaherty, a courageous Irish priest who worked at the Vatican during WWII and helped hide thousands of refugees from the Nazis.

The local Gestapo chief, Colonel Kessler, tried in vain to have the priest assassinated. When the Allies occupied Rome, however, and Colonel Kessler was taken into custody, Monsignor O’Flaherty actually helped Kessler’s wife and children, and he visited Kessler in jail on a weekly basis. Thanks to O’Flaherty’s demonstration of Christian love, Kessler himself eventually converted to Catholicism.

At the end of the movie, a text appeared on the screen which contained an appeal for forgiveness. When my lunch companion’s father saw this, he absolutely hit the roof. He was a WWII vet who had fought the Nazis, and he had decided long ago that under no circumstances would he ever forgive them. They had done too much harm and committed too much evil, he said. To forgive them would be wrong, he concluded, because it wouldn’t be fair.

And you know what? He’s absolutely right!! It wouldn’t be fair for him to forgive the Nazis. That’s because there’s nothing “fair” about forgiveness at all. Think about the times someone has hurt you and you’re found it difficult to forgive. Part of us wants to retaliate and get even, right? We want them to know how we feel and to give them a taste of their own medicine. We think: They’ve hurt us; we should be able to hurt them back! After all, it’s only fair…

But forgiveness, as we Christians understand it, is not fair. Remember today’s first reading, from Sirach? It called sinners to repent and seek reconciliation with God. Why? Because God is merciful, and “generous in forgiving.” Not because he’s fair.

Jesus in today’s gospel makes it quite clear that God isn’t fair. In his parable, God the Father is the landowner who paid workers the same wage whether they had worked all day in the fields or only the last hour. Fairness would dictate that those who worked more should get paid more. But this isn’t a story meant to teach us about salaries in the workplace. It’s a story about salvation. And salvation, as Jesus concludes his parable, is not about fairness. It’s about the generosity of God.

To say that God isn’t fair can sound rather strange to us, can’t it? This is because so often life isn’t fair. Bad things happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer. We conclude that in contrast to all of this unfairness, surely God must be fair! But God isn’t fair. And this has to do with a difference between what we might call human fairness, or human justice, and the justice of God.

Human justice is about people getting what they deserve. I’ve head it described as a “nicely dressed ‘eye-for-an-eye’ philosophy.” But God’s justice is entirely different. It’s one of the ways, as the Sirach reading reminded us, that God’s ways are not our ways, and his thoughts are not our thoughts. Do you recall the Opening Prayer we offered together at the beginning of this Mass? It said that “the perfection of justice is found in (God’s) love.” In other words, God’s justice is about love. And love is about giving of one’s self for the good of others. Love isn’t concerned with getting what we think we deserve; it isn’t preoccupied with getting our so-called “fair share.” It’s about giving without counting the cost.

It is this love, this “divine justice,” that we as Christians are called to give. But so often, we fall short of this standard, all in the name of “fairness.” We only love those who love us back. We’re only kind to those who are kind to us. We limit our patience to what we think is reasonable. Such as, “I’ve been patient long enough- you’ll do what I want now!” We restrict our forgiveness with a “three-strikes and you’re out” mentality-which really is probation and not forgiveness at all. We say, “I’ll change- but only if she changes too.” After all, it’s only fair, right?

Fairness also leads us to “keep score” in our relationships. We keep track of our how often we’ve been hurt, how much sex we have, how much housework we do, how money is used (Such as: she bought a new sweater; I should get a new TV), and how time is spent (Like: he went fishing on Saturday, I should get a day off too).

When we act this way, we tell ourselves, “It’s only fair!” In reality, we’re just being selfish. Thank God that God isn’t fair with us! Because he loves us, God doesn’t give us what we deserve. Instead, God forgives us! And, as we’ve already established, forgiveness isn’t fair at all. The fact is that we don’t deserve anything God gives us, because everything God gives us is his free gift of grace. As I’ve heard it said many times: Justice is getting what we deserve; mercy is not getting what we deserve; grace is getting what we don’t deserve. Mercy and grace are what God gives us. And neither one of them is fair.

God doesn’t call us to be fair either. Instead, God calls us to be more than fair, because God calls us to love. He asks us not to keep score and focus only on getting our fair share and giving only what we think other people deserve. He invites us instead to be people of generosity, kindness, compassion, mercy, and forgiveness. Just like he is with us.

Our Lady of Sorrows

How did Mary show her feelings as she witnessed her Son’s Passion? Was she numb with shock? Did she try to be stoic and stifle her tears? Did she crumple in a heap and sob uncontrollably? Or did she express her anguish in all of these ways?

Scripture doesn’t answer these questions. However, if Mary is human, which she is, and if she loves her Son, which she does, then surely the Passion must have filled her with sorrow. It is this sorrow that we recall today, the memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows.

We recall especially that Mary suffered while Jesus suffered. When we suffer, Mary invites us to gaze at Jesus on the cross. Jesus, however, refers us back to Mary and says: “Behold your mother.” It’s as if he says, “Look at Mary; she’s your example; do as she did.” And what did Mary do? She stayed with Jesus at the foot of the cross. She didn’t run away. We can learn three things from this.

First, when we stay at the foot of the cross, we realize that we’re not alone in our suffering. We have a Lord who has suffered for us, and who suffers with us. This can be for us a source of consolation and strength.

Second, staying at the foot of the cross helps us to think not only about ourselves, something so easy to do when we suffer. By being at the cross, Mary was able to comfort her Son, in spite of her own pain. Her witness can teach us to be compassionate too.

Third, keeping the cross in sight reminds us that it was followed by an empty tomb- which is a cause for joy. As Mary learned, sorrow and joy can coexist, and sorrow will never have the final word. Through her witness, Our Lady of Sorrows embodies for us what Mother Teresa once wrote so beautifully: “Never let anything cause you so much sorrow that you forget the joy of Christ risen!”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/091511.cfm

Exaltation of the Holy Cross

Lamin Sanneh is a Gambian who teaches at Yale Divinty School. His grandfather and uncle are influential Muslim clerics, and Sanneh himself grew up a strict Muslim. He ultimately converted to Catholicism, however, primarily because of his fascination with the cross of Jesus. Specifically, Jesus’ crucifixion led him to conclude that suffering is not alien to God’s nature, as Islam teaches, but is at the heart of God’s compassion.

As Lamin Sanneh came to appreciate, we have a God who humbled himself on a cross, as today’s Scripture readings remind us, that we might have eternal life. This is why we need to exalt the cross. We need to lift it high and proclaim the good news it signifies for everyone to hear. It changed the life of Lamin Sanneh. It can change the world. And the world desperately needs to hear of the cross, especially during these days as we recall an anniversary of terror and violence.

Pope Benedict has said: “Precisely in this moment… we need the God who triumphs on the Cross, who wins not with violence but with his love. Precisely in this moment we need the face of Christ, to know the true face of God and thereby to carry reconciliation and light to this world.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/091411.cfm

Ordinary 24 Monday

Recently I heard the story of a woman who attended a retreat for those who were struggling to heal after an abortion. This particular woman had a painful history, and she was deeply wounded. At one point she was asked: “What do you want from this retreat?” To which she responded, “I want- for just a moment- to believe that God loves me.” This hurting woman was living proof of the philosopher Kierkegaard’s claim that life is not a question of belief versus unbelief; it’s a question of belief versus despair.

In today’s gospel we heard the story of a man- a Roman centurion- who did believe. We learned that he was generous, concerned for others, respected by his community, and an accomplished professional. Jesus knew all these things about him. But when Jesus publicly praised him, what did he single out? Only his faith which, we’re told, left Jesus “amazed.” We might say, then, that the centurion had “amazing faith.”

I imagine that all of us here have faith; if we didn’t, we wouldn’t be here in the first place! Nevertheless, Jesus calls each one of us to have “amazing faith. He wants us to have a deep and unshakable belief in him. Jesus wants us to believe that he answers prayer; to believe in his power to heal; to believe in his forgiveness; to believe that he keeps his promises; to believe that he has a purpose for our life; and most of all, to believe in his love for us.

Faith, of course, is a gift of God’s grace, which means that we can ask God to give it to us. So maybe our prayer this and every day should be for “amazing grace” that we might have “amazing faith.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/091211.cfm

Forgiveness and 9/11

We’re anticipating a big anniversary this Sunday: the 10th anniversary of 9/11. Over the next few days there’s going to be a huge media focus on this event: in print, online, on the radio, and especially on TV. It will be very easy for us to get sucked in.

This happened to me after 9/11 itself. The media attention was 24/7, and we were all glued to the coverage for days on end. I spoke about this with a Catholic friend, when at one point in our conversation she asked: “When am I going to start praying?” She realized that she was so immersed in the news of that tragedy, that she’d neglected to lift it up in prayer. Just like me.

Hopefully that won’t happen this year. Indeed, here we are in church, having come together to pray. And through our prayer, we can look back on those terrible events through the eyes of Christ. The media will look back on that day through all sorts of different eyes: survivors and soldiers; policemen and politicians; Manhattanites and Muslims. But in prayer, we can look at it as a Christian.

Tonight we engage in a special form of prayer: adoration. We look upon Christ; we gaze upon the host in which we encounter the Presence of Jesus himself. But this gazing isn’t one-way, because Jesus is also looking upon us. And when he does, he loves what he sees. He can’t help but do that! Jesus is God, God is perfect love, and God can’t deny his own nature. Knowing this can help us to look out upon the world with love- for everything, and everyone. Including the events of 9/11- as hard as that may be.

Think of it this way: God the Father created the world through his Son, and when they were finished they looked upon it and exclaimed: “It is good.” Later, God the Son looked out upon that same world as he hung on a cross. And even in his pain, he looked out upon that world with love. He looked upon those who unjustly condemned him, and he loved them. He looked upon those who hurled scorn and contempt, and he loved them. He looked upon the empty ground where his friends should have been, and he still loved them. He looked upon those who had driven nails into his hands and feet, and not only did he love them, he forgave them for what they had done.

Can we look back upon 9/11 with love and forgive those responsible? Indeed, can we look back upon any painful event with forgiveness, especially toward those who have hurt us most deeply, and most personally? That is our Lord’s invitation to us; that is his challenge to us.

This Sunday, 9/11 itself, our Lord will speak to us through the gospel- the same gospel we heard tonight. Peter asked: “How many times am I to forgive one who hurts me? Seven times?” “No,” Jesus will insist, “Seventy-seven times.” How are we to understand this? Are we to keep score for the times someone has hurt us? Is there to be a limit to our forgiveness, whether it be “three strikes and you’re out” or “seventy-seven strikes and you’re out?” Of course not. God doesn’t ration the forgiveness he showers upon us, and he doesn’t want us to ration the forgiveness we extend to others.

To grasp what Jesus meant, we need to appreciate that the number seven was associated with perfection, and therefore with God, because God is perfect. By teaching us to forgive seventy-seven times, Jesus is driving home the point that we’re to forgive like God forgives: without limit, without restriction, without compromise, without any strings attached. We can’t earn God’s forgiveness, and we shouldn’t expect others to have to earn it from us.

But how can we apply this to 9/11? How can Jesus’ words help us view that event through his eyes? To answer that, we should recall that forgiveness is a decision- it’s a choice to refrain from retaliation, revenge, or a desire to take an eye-for-an-eye. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., had some wise words on this score. “An eye for an eye,” he promised, “leaves everyone blind.”

Yet so many wanted to take an eye for an eye after 9/11. Referring to the terrorists, one politician announced: “God may have mercy on you, but we won’t!” That was anger speaking. And it’s normal to feel angry when hurt or attacked. But we can’t that anger harden into bitterness, resentment, or a thirst for revenge. Adding evil to evil is the devil’s work. To bring good out of evil is God’s work, and that’s where we come in. When we forgive, we bring an end to the cycle of violence and hate.

If such forgiveness doesn’t seem fair to us, we’re absolutely right! Forgiveness isn’t fair. An eye-for-an-eye is fair. Strict justice is fair. Through forgiveness, we temper justice with mercy. As has often been said, “Justice is getting what you deserve. Mercy is not getting what you deserve. Grace is getting what you don’t deserve.” By God’s free gift of grace, we’re able to not give to others what they justly deserve, through the mercy of forgiveness.

But does being forgiving people turn us into doormats or punching bags? Does it invite someone to hurt us over and over again? Does it encourage terrorists to strike again? Not at all. Forgiveness doesn’t preclude justice. Blessed Pope John Paul II forgave the gunman who tried to assassinate him. But that gunman remained in prison. Dangerous criminals can be forgiven, and kept off the street at the same time. Terrorists can be forgiven, while we still act to protect our nation, and defend the common good.

By forgiving them, however, we let go of the desire for revenge; by forgiving, we can view them and what they did, not through eyes of hate, but through eyes of love. Just as Jesus sees them- he who begs us to love our enemies. Indeed, it is they who are the very measure of our love. Dorothy Day put it well: “I really only love God, as much as I love the person I love the least.”

Nativity of Mary

We recall today the birthday of Mary- a time of new beginnings. Not only do we celebrate the birth of a new life, we also celebrate the beginning of a new chapter in salvation history. We ourselves may be experiencing new beginnings at this time of year- perhaps the start of a new school year, or the launch of new work initiatives after the summer slowdown.

Any new beginning can be a time of excitement and hope as we anticipate its possibilities, opportunities, and challenges. But new beginnings can also give rise to apprehension and worry. We may fear what the future may hold, or become anxious about letting go of what’s comfortable and familiar.

If this is true for us, today’s Scripture readings can speak to our situation in three ways:

• First, Paul explained that all things work together for the good of those who have been called by God- and that means us!

• Second, as Luke’s gospel asserts that Jesus’ birth came about only through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are reminded of the Spirit’s presence and power in our lives;

• Third, the gospel reminds us that God has a plan. He had a plan for our salvation that lead to the births of Mary and Jesus; and he has a plan for each of our lives as well.

In short, for each and every one of our new beginnings, the Holy Spirit is always present to guide us to embrace God’s unique plan for our lives, which we’re assured is designed for our good. And, since it is her birthday, we can entrust our new beginnings to the protection of Mary our Mother, as together we pray: "Hail Mary…

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/090811.cfm

Tuesday of Ordinary 23

The other day I spoke with a woman who attends the 7:15 am daily Mass at my parish. She comes to Mass and then stays to pray before the Blessed Sacrament. “I just can’t pray at night,” she said, “so I have to do it early in the morning.”

I know exactly what she means. I have some friends who love all-night adoration at St. Mary’s in Alexandria, and they’re always trying to get me to come. However, I don’t pray well at night, and I joke with my friends that I’m not a “nocturnal Christian.” My best praying, like the woman at my parish, is done in the morning.

Which is okay! God makes both early birds and night owls. One is not necessarily better than the other. But regardless of which one we are, we do need to pray, and we need to pray in a regular, disciplined way.

For prayer to become a “holy habit,” it’s best to pick a particular time and place- just like Jesus, who in today’s gospel chose to pray at night, on the top of a mountain. We might find it best to pray at night, like our Lord, or we might prefer the morning. It ultimately doesn’t matter, as long as we do it. Especially as God is available, all the time.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/090511.cfm

Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Have you ever met for the first time someone you expected to dislike because you had heard negative or nasty things about him or her? But then, after you had met, you actually liked that person, and maybe even became friends? Your liking this person came as something of a surprise, because you had been biased against him or her. You had heard some piece of gossip, or been told something you really didn’t have a need or a right to know. As a result, that person almost didn’t get a chance to make a good first impression, because he or she had been given a bad name by somebody else.

And that’s not fair, is it? Our Church teaches that everyone has a right to a good reputation, and that it’s a sin to gossip or reveal things about people that others shouldn’t hear. To do that is to violate a person’s privacy, hurt their relationships with others, and maybe even put them in danger in some way. People can end up losing their jobs, for instance, because of gossip. And as the “greatest generation” used to be reminded: “Loose lips sink ships.”

Just consider what Jesus taught in today’s gospel. Whenever someone has offended or hurt us in some way, we are to first of all approach that person in private in the hope of resolving the situation. We aren’t to go around telling everyone how this person hurt us or how we think that he or she is a jerk. Jesus knows that it’s tempting to do this, because “Misery loves company.” It can feel good to get other people on “our side” of the conflict. Not only do we receive sympathy, it’s a way for us to “get back” at that person by making him or her look bad in another’s eyes. When we gossip about a person who has hurt us, or maybe even just really annoys us, our real intention is to punish.

As today’s gospel makes clear, this is not something our Lord wants us to do. Gossiping is referred to as the sin of “detraction,” it detracts from a person’s reputation and takes the shine of his or her good name.

Gossiping, to say the least, is not an act of love. It’s ironic, therefore, that sometimes we do it about the very people we should love the most. Husband and wives, for instance, sometimes complain about their spouse’s behavior to their friends or acquaintances. They say things like: “My husband is so clueless; he can’t even screw in a light bulb.” Or, “My wife is such an airhead: she can’t even balance a checkbook.” Or, “He’d rather go fishing than spend time with his family.” Or, “If I spent the way she did, we’d be in the poorhouse.” If people said things like this to us about our spouses, we’d get angry and come to their defense. But we don’t hesitate to say these things ourselves.

There may be truth to what we say. But saying it doesn’t improve the situation or resolve the problem or help the relationship to heal or grow. Sometimes we’ll excuse ourselves by thinking that now we’ve gotten it off our chest, we won’t fight with our spouse later. But that’s baloney. All we accomplish is to make someone we love look bad in the eyes of others. And what will they think of our spouse the next time they see him or her? They’ll remember what you said, and look down upon your spouse. You’ve given them a bad reputation, and the harm we’ve caused can be almost impossible to repair. The damage is done.

Great damage can be done by gossip in the workplace, too. We’ve all experienced it, if we’ve ever had a job. And it’s hard to resist, sometimes because it sounds so juicy, and sometimes because we don’t want to be left out of the crowd and miss what’s being said. But workplace gossip wastes time, lessens productivity, poisons workplace morale, leads to divisions and cliques, and can ruin reputations and careers. A recent poll revealed that 60 percent of us rate “workplace gossip” as our number one on-the-job pet peeve.

These days, we might even say that we’re drowning in a virtual sea of gossip. There are nearly 400 gossip magazines on newsstands devoted to nothing more than revealing intimate details of the social and personal lives of celebrities and other public figures- things we don’t need to know and, I add, we shouldn’t seek to know or pay to learn about. Add to this the gossip spread around the internet through blogs, tweets, and Facebook, and what we have is something like a tsunami.

On our own, we probably can’t hope to stop it. But we can make a choice not to contribute to it. Let’s walk away from the water-cooler scuttlebutt, refuse to buy the trashy magazines, and not visit the offending websites. And most of all, let’s keep guard over what comes out of our mouths. It may be that someone may have hurt us, but that doesn’t mean that everyone and their brother needs to know about it. Because according to Jesus, we should treat the person we’re talking about as our brother. And he wants us to “win them over.” Not put them down.

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/090411.cfm

Friday of Ordinary 22

Has anyone ever discovered something about you that really surprised them? Did they say, “You’re kidding? I didn’t know that about you!” This happens because it takes time for other people to come to know the real us, just as it takes time for us to really know other people. It would be sad, however, if someone were surprised to learn that we are Christian, because it should have been evident to them all along by what we say and what we do.

Sometimes the question is asked: “If you were put on trial for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” Would there be enough evidence to convict us? There should be, because to be a Christian is to be different- noticeably different. People will notice this difference, as they did in today’s gospel. As we heard, people saw that there was something different about what Jesus and his followers did, and they asked them about it. Jesus explained that he was offering a new wine, a new abundant life, a way of living that was not only different, but better than anything people had ever known before.

This is the life that you and I are called to live; this is the life which Jesus has given to us; this is the life that is nourished at this Mass. If we choose to really live it, other people can’t help but notice. And when they discover that we’re Christian, their response won’t be: “Gee, I wouldn’t have guessed that in a million years!” It’ll be instead, “You know, I guess I suspected it all along.”

Readings for today's Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/090211.cfm