Category: Catholic Issues

  • Monday of the Second Week of Ordinary Time: The transforming power of vocations

    Monday of the Second Week of Ordinary Time: The transforming power of vocations

    Today's readings

    The vocational call is a call that is not about me, not about you, but only about the God who makes the call. Just as the ancient high priests that the author of our first reading speaks about did not take that honor upon themselves, and just as even Jesus did not take that honor upon himself, so none of us takes up our own vocation. That is, none of us takes up our own vocation if our vocation is really authentic.

    The thing about a vocation, whether it's a vocation to the priesthood, or to religious life, or to parenthood, or whatever our vocation may be, is that that vocation comes from the God who created us. Our vocation comes to us at our baptism, when we are called from our old sinful life to a new life of promise, re-created to be the people we were supposed to be in the first place. Our vocation is a gift, the gift by which we are able to work out our salvation and see God at work in us, enabling us to do things we could never do on our own.

    Our vocation is not primarily about us, as I said at the beginning. Our vocation is given to us, along with our gifts and talents, so that we can go out into the world and transform it to a better place, so that we can make a difference, so that we can glorify God in everything that we do. We don't have to have a vocations crisis: all we have to do is for each of us to take up our vocation and live it faithfully, so that our world is all covered with the glory of God.

    If we all would make this the goal of our lives, we would be like that new wine poured into the new wineskin of our world, making all the earth new with God's love and mercy.

  • Advent Reconciliation Service

    Advent Reconciliation Service

    Readings: Malachi 3:1-7 and Luke 3:3-17

    reconciliation3I have to say that Advent is one of my favorite times of the year. As a person who prays with music, the hymns of Advent just speak to me of the hopeful expectation that we live during this season. I find that the gradual progression of lights on the Advent wreath leads me to open myself more and more to the warmth of God’s presence. The growing numbers of Christmas lights on people’s houses lights up the darkness and reminds me of the light of Christ. The truth is, our world has all sorts of reasons not to hope in anything, but our Church reminds us every year at this time that we have the only reason for hope that we need: the promise of Jesus Christ.

    Throughout Advent this year, I have chosen to reflect on God’s promises. I am finding that the hope that reflecting on those promises brings casts out the darkness and depression of barren trees, cold weather, and earlier nightfall. The hope of God’s promises also casts out the darkness of sin and death that seems to surround us and creep up on us in every moment. Last Friday night, I turned on the evening news, only to be filled with worry for my brother-in-law who works downtown and travels in and out of the Ogilvie Transportation Center, which had been closed due to gunfire in the building. The news continues to bring worry and concern for our troops in Afghanistan and Iraq.

    It’s so obvious that our world needs a Savior. Not just two thousand years ago, but right here and right now. We need a Savior who will lead us to justice and peace. We need a Savior who will lead us to reach out to the poor and oppressed. We need a Savior who will bind up our wounded lives and world and present us pure and spotless before God on the Last Day. We need a Savior who can bring light to this darkened world and hope to our broken lives. We need a Savior who can bring us God’s promise of forgiveness.

    This Advent, I’ve been teaching about an ancient prayer of the early Church. In the years just after Jesus died and rose and ascended into heaven, the early Christians would pray in their language, Maranatha or “Come, Lord Jesus.” So I’ve been saying that we should all pray that prayer every day during Advent. When we get up in the morning, and just before bed at night, pray “Come, Lord Jesus.” When you need help during the day or just need to remind yourself of God’s promises, pray “Come, Lord Jesus.” The early Christians prayed this way because they expected Jesus to return soon. We do too. Even if he does not return in glory during our lifetimes, we still expect him to return soon and often in our lives and in our world to brighten this place of darkness and sin and to straighten out the rough ways in our lives. Let us keep the expectation of the Lord and the hope of his promise of forgiveness alive in our hearts:

    Come, Lord Jesus and change our hearts to be more loving and open to others.
    Come, Lord Jesus and teach us to pray; help us to grow in our spiritual lives.
    Come, Lord Jesus and dispel our doubts; help us always to hope in your forgiveness.
    Come, Lord Jesus and heal those who are sick and comfort all the dying.
    Come, Lord Jesus and bring those who wander back to your Church.
    Come, Lord Jesus and turn us away from our addictions.
    Come, Lord Jesus and teach us to be patient with ourselves and others.
    Come, Lord Jesus and help us to eliminate injustice and apathy.
    Come, Lord Jesus and teach us to welcome the stranger.
    Come, Lord Jesus and give us an unfailing and zealous respect for your gift of life.
    Come, Lord Jesus and help us to be generous; teach us all to practice stewardship of all of our resources.
    Come, Lord Jesus and help us to work at everything we do as though we were working for you alone.
    Come, Lord Jesus and bind up our brokenness, heal our woundedness, comfort us in affliction, afflict us in our comfort, help us to repent and to follow you without distraction or hesitation, give us the grace to pick up our crosses and be your disciples.

    The good that John the Baptist preaches in this evening’s Gospel reading, is that God does indeed promise to forgive us. Wherever we are on the journey to Christ, whatever the obstacles we face, God promises to make it right through Jesus Christ. We may be facing the valley of hurts or resentments. God will fill in that valley. Perhaps we are up against a mountain of sinful behavior or shame. God will level that mountain. We may be lost on the winding roads of procrastination or apathy. God will straighten out that way. We may be riding along on the rough and bumpy ways of poor choices, sinful relationships and patterns of sin. God will make all those ways smooth. And all flesh – every one of us, brothers and sisters – we will all see the salvation of God. That’s a promise. God will forgive us all of our sins.

    All we have to do is to take God up on it. And that’s why we are here tonight. God promises us forgiveness, and we are here to receive it. As we confess our sins and receive absolution, we make Christ’s light a little more brilliant in our world and in our lives. There may only be one unforgivable sin: the sin of thinking that we don’t a Savior. When we think we’re okay and that there is nothing wrong with our lives or our relationships, then we’re lost. When we live our lives as if we’re the only one who matters, we’re very far from God. It’s not that God doesn’t want to forgive us this sin, it’s more that we refuse to have it forgiven. If Advent teaches us anything, it’s got to be that we all need that baptism of repentance that John the Baptist preached, that we all need to prepare the way of the Lord in our hearts, making straight the paths for his return to us.

    Come, Lord Jesus!

  • 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time: We never see the widow

    32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time: We never see the widow

    Today’s readings

    The thing is, we never see the widow.

    There are widows in both the first reading and today’s Gospel and neither story describes the widow. We don’t know what she’s wearing, if she’s tall or short, nothing at all about how she looked or anything. That’s pretty typical of most Scripture passages; we don’t know much of that about many of the characters we come across in the readings. But somehow, in these readings, especially in the Gospel, the lack of notice seems a bit more culpable than typical Scripture glossing-over of details.

    We just never see the widow.

    In the Gospel story, if Jesus didn’t see the widow, well, nobody would have. They would certainly have noticed the rich people who put in large sums. The collection boxes were designed that way. As they dropped in their many large coins, the donation would have made quite a loud clanking as they worked their way to the bottom of the box. Many times, people would time their deposit so that they could get the most attention possible. But a poor widow dropping in two small coins would never have gotten anyone’s attention. Except that Jesus saw her.

    Jesus saw the widow and noticed her meager contribution. But in seeing the widow, Jesus knew all about her. He saw the lack of status that she had as a widow. Women in that society had no status at all unless they had a male figure to take care of them. A father, brother or husband meant that a woman would be taken care of and protected. But a widow would have given up her father and male family members to get married. And, at the death of her husband, she would have lost that protection also. Widows in that society were in a very bad way.

    Jesus also saw the widow’s contribution. It was a very small contribution, equivalent to about one sixty-fourth of a denarius. A denarius was a day’s wage. A contribution that small was so insignificant that it would hardly have been noticed among the large contributions made by the rich people. But Jesus knew that the two small coins were perhaps all the poor widow had in the world. Any status or protection she would have as a widow would have come through the money she had. In giving the two small coins, she was probably giving everything she had. Jesus knew that for her, giving those two small coins was a way of giving up any control she had, and now the only person she could rely on is God. We never hear what happens to her, but her act of faith does not go unnoticed.

    The situation is much the same in today’s first reading. Elijah the prophet is fleeing from his enemy, King Ahab. Ahab wanted to take Elijah’s life, and he is on the run. Here we see the powerful prophet completely at the mercy of those who seek him, and he has no one to whom to turn. Except for a poor widow. In Elijah’s day, even a widow was expected to show hospitality to a guest, even at the cost of all she may have. That was the custom. So Elijah asks for a drink and receives one. Then he asks for a cake, and the widow protests that the little bit of flour and oil was all she had for herself and her son, and she was planning on the two of them dying after having consumed it that day. But, ever attentive to the demands of hospitality, she does indeed make him the cake. And the prophet’s promise that the flour would not run out nor the flask of oil run dry is beautifully fulfilled for a year. Unlike the widow in the Gospel, we see that this widow is taken care of by God, and perhaps we can assume that God took care of the Gospel widow as well.

    Because God does see the widow.

    God sees the widow for the creation that she is. God knows her plight and hears her cry. Through the ministry and generosity of widows, God cares for prophets on the run and provides for the upkeep of a Temple. Through that same generosity, God provides a rich example not just of generous giving – although that’s there too – but of giving up control in order to experience the life, and care, and salvation that comes from God. The widow gives up what she has and she is cared for. When she is oppressed by unscrupulous Scribes who take her house for their own benefit, her cries are heard. God sees the widow.

    And if God sees the widow, then we had better see her too.

    But, we don’t. We miss the widow in our midst time and time again.

    There are many people represented by the widow in these stories. The Psalmist gives us a look at all those who went unnoticed in his time. He sings that God secures justice for the oppressed, feeds the hungry, sets captives free, gives sight to the blind, raises up those bowed down, loves the just, protects strangers, and sustains the fatherless and the widow. God sees all of these people.

    The widows in our time are all those who society forgets. The single mother. The homeless man. The forgotten elderly in nursing homes. The children of the poor. The unborn who are aborted every day. The terminally ill. The immigrant woman who comes in to clean the office when you’re headed home for the day. The mentally ill. Those on death row. Members of our armed forces fighting in far-away lands.

    We never see any of these people. But God does.

    Once again, we are coming to the end of our liturgical year. And so we must continue the kind of liturgical soul-searching that I’ve encouraged us to engage in these last few weeks. We need to take a look back at our lives this year and identify those we may not have seen the way God does. Maybe they are some of the strangers that I mentioned already. But maybe there are people closer to us that we have not noticed. Members of our family, neighbors, co-workers. Who are the people we have not noticed because we have been so wrapped up in ourselves? Who are the people we have forgotten because we are afraid that stopping to help them will leave us poorer? Who are those we have neglected because of selfishness or lack of concern? Who are the ones we have not seen?

    What about our relationship with God? Has it reflected the action of the widows in today’s Liturgy of the Word which showed that letting go of everything we have gives us the opportunity to let God care for us and give us what we truly need? Or has our selfishness kept us bound up and attached to the things in our lives and in our world which have no permanence? Have we given up the Kingdom of God only to purchase a way of life that does not lead us to our Creator? Have we desperately held on to status, wealth and passing pleasures or have we let go and experienced the freedom that gives us the true security of God’s love and care for us?

    There is a paradox in today’s readings, brothers and sisters. We are definitely called to start seeing the widows and all those who are forgotten among us. We are certainly called to care for them, because we are the instruments God uses to take care of those who need his protection. But, we are also called to be more like the widow. We are called to give from our need and not from our abundance. We are called to let go of everything we think we have in order to catch hold of the One who longs to gather us back to himself. The only real freedom we will ever have is when we give up every security we think we have in order to gain the care of our God who is always faithful.

    Our hope has to be that our participation in the Eucharist this year has led us to a place where we are close enough to our God that we would see the widow. May we see the widow, and all the forgotten among us, and respond to their needs. May we see the widow’s example and give out of our comfort level in order that God, who is never outdone in generosity, can work his grace in our lives. May we see the widow because God does, and may we know the grace that was poured out on the widow in Elijah’s story, whose flour jar did not go empty and whose flask of oil did not run dry.

  • St. Martin of Tours and Veterans Day

    St. Martin of Tours and Veterans Day

    Today’s readings | Today’s feast

    “Blessed is the one who fears the Lord.”

    St. Martin of Tours is a fitting saint to intercede for veterans today. He himself was a soldier and served his country faithfully. After a time, he asked for and received release from military service. He had become a catechumen, and said to his superiors, “I have served you as a soldier; now let me serve Christ. Give the bounty to those who are going to fight. But I am a soldier of Christ and it is not lawful for me to fight.” Having received his release, he became a monk and served God faithfully. As a soldier of Christianity now, he fought valiantly against paganism and appealed for mercy to those accused of heresy. He was made a bishop, albeit reluctantly, and served faithfully in that post. He was a man of whom the psalmist says today, “Blessed is the one who fears the Lord.”

    On this Veterans Day, we honor and pray for veterans of our armed forces who have given of themselves in order to protect our country and its freedoms. We pray especially for those who have died in battle, as well as for those who have been injured physically or mentally during their military service. We pray in thanksgiving for all of our freedoms, gained at a price, and pray that those freedoms will always be part of our way of life.

    I received this prayer for Veterans Day. As I pray it, think of someone you know who may be a veteran, or perhaps is currently serving in the armed forces. Maybe that veteran is even you. If you don’t have anyone particular to pray for, ask God to hear this prayer on behalf of a veteran who has no one to pray for them. So let us pray:

    We ask for blessings on all those who have served their country in the armed forces.
    We ask for healing for the veterans who have been wounded, in body and soul, in conflicts around the globe.
    We pray especially for the young men and women, in the thousands,
    Who are coming home from Iraq with injured bodies and traumatized spirits.
    Bring solace to them, O Lord; may we pray for them when they cannot pray.

    Have mercy on all our veterans from World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq,
    Bring peace to their hearts and peace to the regions they fought in.
    Bless all the soldiers who served in non-combative posts;
    May their calling to service continue in their lives in many positive ways.

    Give us all the creative vision to see a world which, grown weary with fighting,
    Moves to affirming the life of every human being and so moves beyond war.
    Hear our prayer, O Prince of Peace, hear our prayer.

    We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.

    St. Martin of Tours, pray for us.

  • Diakonia: An anniversary

    Diakonia: An anniversary

    Before this day is over, I just wanted to reflect that today is the one-year anniversary of my ordination as a transitional deacon. I was ordained to that order on November 4, 2005, on the feast of St. Charles Borromeo at the St. Charles Borromeo Pastoral Center.

    The call to diakonia is a serious one for me. I'm not always perfect at it, and this anniversary really calls me to renew myself in that charism. As the Rite of Ordination says, "May God, who has begun this good work in you, bring it to fulfillment."

    Amen.

  • Tuesday of the 30th Week of Ordinary Time: Be subordinate to one another

    Tuesday of the 30th Week of Ordinary Time: Be subordinate to one another

    Today’s readings

    Well, it would be hard to pick a scarier reading to preach about on Halloween than one that starts out with the emotionally-charged sentence, “Wives should be subordinate to their husbands as to the Lord.” It almost makes me want to skip it and preach on the Gospel reading, or even on the Alleluia verse – anything but that reading. But I firmly believe that if we’re going to have that reading, we need to understand it. Certainly it offends our modern sensibilities to hear something about women being subordinate to men. It’s just not done in this society.

    Yet it was done in the society in which St. Paul ministered. So his injunction to wives would hardly have raised an eyebrow. What would have been shocking in St. Paul’s time was the reciprocal injunction to husbands to love their wives as they loved their own bodies. Indeed, St. Paul’s point was not to rile either husbands or wives, but more to promote the living of harmonious family relationships. In that culture, the most harmonious families were those in which the wife was submissive to the husband, and the husband loved his wife. Not only that, they were expecting a very near return of Christ, so he didn’t always think people should be married at all. That’s how it looked then.

    So how would it look now? Today, I think St. Paul would insist that husbands and wives would live as equal partners, showing mutual respect, and living the love of Christ in their relationship. St. Paul would certainly say that men and women should work together to foster families in which God’s love could be shown and made manifest in the world through them. The real point of this reading, we must remember, is that the love of husband and wife echoes the love between Christ and the Church.

    We have to put aside the emotionally charged words that don’t make sense in today’s society, and instead turn to the heart of the message. We must respect one another and promote families in which God’s love can become real in a world which desperately needs to receive it. May we all love one another as Christ loves his bride, the Church.

  • 30th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Take Courage!

    30th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Take Courage!

    “Take courage, get up, Jesus is calling you.”

    These would be wonderfully comforting words to hear in any situation. Who among us does not wish to be called to Jesus? But as joyful as we are to hear these words in good times, they are incredibly comforting in times of sickness and suffering.

    “Take courage, get up, Jesus is calling you.”

    About four years ago now, just weeks before Christmas, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was frightened, as you can imagine, and we all shared in her grief as she worked through all the details of surgery and treatment. But she came through it relatively well, and we celebrated Christmas with some relief. But just after I returned to the seminary from Christmas break, my sister called to tell me that my father was diagnosed with kidney cancer. It was barely a month later, and we were going through it all over again. He had surgery, and treatment which continues even until now.

    It was a difficult time certainly for my parents, but really for all of our family too. I myself was unable to even pray about it, because I just didn’t know what to say to God any more. I was blessed to be in a seminary community that reached out to me and prayed me through all of it. Fr. Kevin, our dean of formation, even drove out to Loyola in Maywood during Dad’s long stay there to pray with us. It was a difficult time: two illnesses right in a row really tested our faith, as any kind of ongoing suffering will often do. But the Church knows that, and that’s why we have the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick. My parents were both anointed by their pastor before their surgery, and it gave them great comfort and strength to go through all that their illness demanded of them: surgery, chemotherapy, and all the related pain and suffering.

    The anointing of the sick is the Church’s way of saying to the sick, “Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.”

    Illness and suffering can lead a person to a place where faith, now tested, begins to fail, and the sick person can turn away from God and the Church. It can be easy to blame God for suffering, or at least for not delivering us from it. Illness and suffering are so hard to understand. The Church teaches that God does not will our suffering, not as a punishment or our fate or anything else. However, God does permit suffering and sickness and death in this broken world, where things are far from perfect and sin is always at work. God knows our grief when we cry out in pain, when we call to Jesus like Bartimaeus, “Son of David, have pity on me.”

    And so when we are in the midst of serious illness, or weakened by old age, or preparing for surgery because of serious illness, the Church offers us the Anointing of the Sick. The purpose of this great sacrament is to heal our spirits and our minds, and perhaps to heal our bodies too, if God in his providence sees that to be beneficial to our salvation. We should not wait until we are on our death-beds to come to the sacrament, but to ask to receive it whenever we are seriously ill. In the letter of St. James, we are told, “Is anyone among you sick? He should summon the presbyters of the church, and they should pray over him and anoint (him) with oil in the name of the Lord, and the prayer of faith will save the sick person, and the Lord will raise him up. If he has committed any sins, he will be forgiven.”

    At this point, I want to make an editorial comment. So often, in every parish where I’ve been, I have heard people complain that during their time in the hospital, no one came to visit them – not a priest or anyone else. And quite frankly, sometimes priests are guilty of neglecting that incredibly important part of their ministry. I know that I can’t get to the hospital every day, but I go when I can, and I go whenever anyone calls and asks me to go.

    That said, there was a time when we would just know that someone from our parish was in the hospital. Those days are gone. There are two of us here for 3800 families and that makes it hard for us to know everything we’d like to know in order to minister to you best. But there is also a law called the Health Insurance Privacy Protection Act, most often called “HIPPA.” You know about HIPPA if you have been to the doctor or hospital in the last few years, because you are given a brochure about your rights and have to sign a release that says you know them. But HIPPA also affects our right to know that you are in the hospital. And that may be okay, because sometimes when people are in the hospital for something routine, they don’t necessarily want everyone to know. But if you’re in for something serious, or things turn bad, we still might never know that. When you are admitted, you absolutely have to tell them – every time – that you are a St. Raphael parishioner and that you want us to visit. That will at least put you on the list that we get if we come by and make rounds. But if things are really serious, we ask that you have someone from your family call the office and tell us. Fr. Ted and I take this part of our ministry very seriously, and we want to offer you the help of the Church and the Sacraments in your time of need. But we can’t do that if we don’t know you need them. Please spread the word on that. End of editorial!

    The Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick is not the only way that the Church ministers to the sick. Priests are not the only ones responsible for caring for the sick. The entire community bears responsibility in reaching out to the sick, and their loved ones, in time of need. We all must visit the sick and pray for them, easing their burdens in whatever way we can. Every pot of soup brought to a sick member of our community, every ride to the doctor’s office that we offer them, every card sent to the sick is a special act of charity. To reach out to the sick and encourage them with our prayers is one of the corporal works of mercy.

    When we reach out to the sick as a community, we are saying, “Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.”

    It comes down to this: We stand near the end of another Church year. This is a good time to ask ourselves what this year has been like for us. Have we heard the Scriptures all year long as just some nice stories, or have we really been changed by them? Is our relationship with Jesus merely academic, or simply relegated to Sunday, or have we really grown in our friendship with the Lord?

    If this Church year has made any difference to us at all, perhaps we will be more willing to seek out the help of the Church in our times of illness and suffering – because we know that Christ longs to reach out to us through the Church in order to carry on his ministry of healing. If we have come closer to Christ this Church year, we should be now be more willing and able to reach out to the sick through simple acts of kindness, and by encouraging them to receive the sacraments, offering to make the arrangements ourselves if need be.

    This Church year we’ve seen Christ over and over again heal the sick and reach out to those in need. Those aren’t meant to be stories we just read or proclaim; they are meant to be an example of how to reach out to our brothers and sisters, encouraging them in the name of the Lord. Because Christ longs to continue his healing ministry in our own day and age, but he needs us to be the agents of that ministry. He needs the clergy to celebrate the sacraments of the sick for those in need. He needs committed lay people to visit the sick and encourage them, reminding them that the community cares for them and seeks their well-being. And he needs the sick to be well-disposed to receive his grace, especially in their time of need.

    Unlike those who rebuked Bartimaeus for calling out to the Son of David, we must be a community that encourages one another in our suffering, and brings the sick among us to the Lord for comfort and healing. This community needs to be a place where the sick can hear those wonderful words of comfort:

    “Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.”

  • Don’t be afraid of the Light!

    Don’t be afraid of the Light!

    [Homily for our youth reconciliation service.]

    I confessed to the 3rd, 4th and 5th graders from our school on Friday that I used to be afraid of the dark. I asked them and all the adults present how many of them have ever been afraid of the dark, and – no surprise – almost everyone raised their hands. Don't worry, I'm not going to ask all of you to fess up on that and let all your friends know one of your childhood secrets! But I think we can all agree that at some point, most of us have been afraid of the dark.

    When we're in the dark, obviously there is danger. We don't know if there's something we can fall over, or if some other kind of danger is lurking in that darkness. In order to find our way in the dark, we need some source of light to pierce through it all. When I was going to bed when I was little, I used to make my parents leave the door open just a little bit, so that the light from the hall would scatter some of the darkness and some of my fear. For centuries, people navigating through the dark of night would use the light of the moon and the location of the stars to pierce the darkness and lead them safely to their destinations.

    For us Christians, too, we need a light to direct us, a light to scatter the darkness of a world steeped in sin, evil and despair. Many dangers lurk in that kind of darkness for us, and if we don't have a light, we could come to a very frightening end. If we were to admit that we were afraid of this kind of darkness, we'd be taking a step in the right direction.

    And you all know the kind of darkness I mean. Maybe it's the easy availability and lure of drugs or alcohol. Maybe it's the temptation to copy a paper off the internet, or let someone else do our school work for us. Maybe it's the deep desire to go too far in our relationships, or viewing others as mere objects of our passions. Maybe it's the tendency to judge other people by what they wear, where they live, or where they come from. Maybe it's getting caught up in gossip and idle talk, ruining others' reputations. Maybe it's getting wrapped up in ourselves and our own egos and selfishness, and not reaching out to others, or even putting them down. Maybe it's the times we are quick to argue or fight with parents, family or others. All of this darkness can swallow us up and lead us to very dangerous places indeed.

    We need a light to pierce through all of that darkness, if we're ever going to find our way out of it. We began to open up the light at the beginning of our service when we lit the Paschal Candle. That light that stands for Christ, and more importantly, Christ's victory over death through the Resurrection, that light will lead us out of the darkness of our sin. In the Confirmation Interviews I did this past week, many of you picked as a portion of the Gospel you'd like to use in your prayer the brief quote "Don't be afraid; just have faith." Jesus said this to Jairus, the man whose daughter had just died, just before Jesus raised her up. And this is what we want all of you to hear tonight.

    Don't be afraid; just have faith. It's easy for us to think our sins have made us rotten to the core, unworthy of God's love, but that's not true. It's easy to think Jesus would have no more time for us when we've turned away from him time and time again, but that's now how Jesus works. It's easy for us to feel unlovable when we've messed up our lives in so many ways, but God's love is different than that. God's love is enduring, reaching out to us through the darkness of sin and evil, and giving us the light that will lead us out toward God himself.

    Don't be afraid; just have faith. Maybe you haven't been to Confession since your first Confession years ago. Maybe you've forgotten how to do it. If that's true of you, then all of us priests here want to say "welcome back, and do not be afraid." We will help you to make a good Confession; we will help you to open yourself up to receive the light of Christ that will lead you back to God's love.

    Don't be afraid; just have faith. Maybe there's something that you've had on your conscience for a long time now, and you've been afraid to confess it. Maybe you haven't told anyone else about it. Maybe it's something you're confused about. Perhaps you're not even sure it's a sin and you just need to understand the situation better. Maybe you're worried that the priest you go to will think less of you when you confess that sin. Forget all that. Come to one of us and confess it. We've heard a lot of stuff in Confession before and what I can say for myself is that when someone confesses something that has obviously been dragging them down for a long time, I have great admiration for their courage and their desire to make things right with the Lord. Again, we are here to bring you back to Jesus, and if you've come here tonight and don't take advantage of that opportunity, we're going to be heartbroken.

    In a few weeks, Bishop Imesch will be here to anoint you with Chrism and Confirm you. We hope that you will be able to do that with the blazing light of a clear conscience and a pure heart. That's probably not where you are right now, but it can be where you'll be in a few minutes. Don't be afraid; just have faith. Know that Jesus who could raise Jairus's daughter from the dead is the same Jesus who will raise you up from your sins. Know that the light you kindle tonight can become the blaze that takes you out of the dark places you might be in right now. If we were able to admit it, I think we'd all have to say that we are or have been afraid of the dark at some point in our lives. But there is no reason – no reason – that we should be afraid of the light.

  • 27th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Doing what we were created for

    27th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Doing what we were created for

    Today’s readings

    Those of you who heard my homily last week know that I gave a reflection on one of the foundational spiritual principles, namely, “it’s not about us.” Today’s readings make it possible for us to reflect on a foundational principle of moral theology, namely, we must always do what we were created for. In the beginning of the third Eucharistic prayer, there is a line that says, “Father, you are holy indeed, and all creation rightly gives you praise.” In my very first test of my very first moral theology class in seminary, that line was quoted and the question was asked, “A rock is part of creation. How does a rock give God praise?” The correct answer, I had been taught, is “by being a rock.” All of creation gives God praise by doing what it was created for. This same standard applies to us humans, but on a much more elevated level, since we are a more elevated form of creation.

    Today’s first reading provides a portion of the creation story, specifically the creation of a companion for the man, ultimately concluding in the creation of the woman. Many in the past have seen this story as proof that women are inferior to men, because it was from the man’s rib that the woman was created. But the man was created from dirt, and there is no mention of man’s inferiority to dirt, so I think that myth can be safely dispelled. What we see instead was that both the man and the woman were created by God, and that neither of them had a hand in their own creation or in the creation of the other. Each of their lives was a gift, and that gift is what we should focus on. They were created to be a gift to each other and, as it says at the end of that reading, to become one flesh together.

    Both this first reading, and portions of today’s Gospel reading, are familiar choices for couple being married. The reason for that is obvious, that they want to speak to the fact that they were created for each other, which is exactly what these readings tell us. From the very beginning, man and woman were created for each other, and nothing in heaven or on earth can separate them. The love of man and woman echoes the love that God has for all of us, a deep and abiding love which can never end, because God is love itself. When a couple is married, they become a sacrament for the world, a rich symbol of the love of God. So if they are a sign of God’s love for the world, and if God’s love can never end, then no one may divide two people joined in matrimony. This teaching of Jesus has always been the teaching of the Church, and a difficult teaching at that.

    The Vatican II document Gaudium et Spes says of marriage: “Thus a man and a woman, who by their compact of conjugal love “are no longer two, but one flesh” (Matt. 19:6), render mutual help and service to each other through an intimate union of their persons and of their actions. Through this union they experience the meaning of their oneness and attain to it with growing perfection day by day. As a mutual gift of two persons, this intimate union and the good of the children impose total fidelity on the spouses and argue for an unbreakable oneness between them.” (Gaudium et Spes , 48)

    Having said all that, I want to make some points and dispel some myths about the Church’s teaching on marriage, divorce, remarriage, and annulment. The first myth is that divorce is a sin which excommunicates a person from the Church and does not allow them to participate in the life of the Church or receive the sacraments. This is false. Divorce is not a sin in and of itself. It may well, however, be the result of sin, and a consequence of sin. Those who are divorced, however, remain Catholics in good standing and are free to receive the sacraments including the Eucharist and the Anointing of the Sick. However, they remain married to their partner in the eyes of the Church and are not free to remarry, unless they receive an annulment. Those who remarry without an annulment have taken themselves out of communion with the Church and are not free to receive the sacraments.

    The second myth is that an annulment is really just “Catholic Divorce.” This is also false. An annulment is recognition by the Church that a valid marriage, for some reason, had never taken place. The diocesan policy document on annulment defines it in this way: “Although not every marriage is a sacrament, every marriage (Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Non-Believer, etc.) is presumed to be a valid marriage. The good of all concerned (spouses, children, in-laws, society, the Church, etc.) demands this presumption. In every presumption, the opposite may be true. If sufficient evidence can be shown that a particular marriage is invalid, the original presumption no longer holds. Therefore, when it can be shown that a particular marriage is not a true marriage, or not a sacrament, or not consummated, then it is possible for the Tribunal to declare that the parties are free to marry in the Catholic Church.” (Declaration of Nullity Proceedings, Diocese of Joliet , p.3) The annulment basically states that a valid marriage never happened in the first place, usually because the parties for some reason were not free to marry. These reasons may include extreme immaturity, a previous and previously undiscovered prior marriage, or entering marriage with no intention of remaining faithful or of having children. There are other considerations, of course, and if you need to explore this further, you should contact me or Fr. Ted.

    A third myth is that those who are marrying a non-Catholic who had been previously married are automatically free to marry, since the non-Catholic’s marriage did not take place in the Catholic Church. This is false. The Church, as I mentioned earlier, presumes marriages between non-Catholics to be valid, so their previous marriage would have to be annulled by the Catholic Church before a Catholic is free to marry them.

    A fourth myth is that the Church always insists that the parties stay together. Today’s readings show that the permanence of the marriage relationship is the intent of God, and the strong preference of the Church. However, we all understand that there are circumstances in which that may not be possible. Fr. Ted and I attended a workshop this week on domestic violence. We would never counsel someone to stay together in an abusive relationship only to see them again at their funeral. That is completely unacceptable. If you are in an abusive relationship, whether the abuse is physical, verbal, or emotional, you need to seek help and safety. The Church will support you in that decision. If you find yourself in that kind of relationship, whether you are married or not, please see someone on our staff immediately.

    Finally, there are some misconceptions about annulment proceedings that I want to clear up. First, if you do receive an annulment, that does not mean your children are illegitimate. Many people think that, but that is completely false. Second, people think annulments are too expensive. They are not. The diocese requires a visit to a psychologist or psychiatrist, the cost of which is approximately $150. The diocese also requests $175 for processing the paperwork. But, under no circumstances will an annulment be denied if a person cannot meet those expenses. Having said that, an annulment is not painless. There are all sorts of emotional experiences that an annulment would dredge up, and I am certain they are going to be painful. But that kind of pain is part and parcel of any healing, so when you are in the right place for it, if you think your marriage was invalid, you should speak to a priest who can advise you how to begin the process.

    I began this discussion by teaching the moral principle that we must do what we were created for. The whole idea of sin is that it involves us abandoning that principle, by not doing what we were created for, or even doing something that destroys God’s creation. The relationships in our lives can be the source of our greatest joys and our deepest pains. As I have told the couples I have prepared for marriage, the decision to love one another is not something that is done once and for all on the wedding day. The decision to love one another, to be one flesh, is a decision that both parties must make every single day. That may be easy on the wedding day when people come to this Church full of hopes and dreams, with every intent of being one forever. But life often throws them some curves, and sometimes more than one curve at a time. The day-in, day-out living of a marriage is going to mean that one of them might have a rough day, week, month or more at work which will distract them from the way they would otherwise choose to love the other person. Or the raising of children will cause a need for a long discussion on priorities and discipline. Money problems, too, have a way of creeping into the relationship and seeming so huge that they will threaten to tear it apart. In old age, people get sick and often must be cared for on a long-term basis by the other person in the relationship. Life takes us in different directions than we expect at the beginning of life together. But the promise to be one does not go away when times become rough. We were created to help one another through the difficulties of life, and to choose to do anything less than that is sinful.

    To be the people we were created to be, we must choose to love each other every single day of our lives. That is true of married couples for one another. It is true of parents and children for one another. It is true of priests and parishioners for one another. Our promise to love one another is a sacrament to the world, proclaiming God’s love for every person he has created. “What God has joined together, no human being must separate.”

  • Friday of the 26th Week of Ordinary Time: Who are we to answer God?

    Friday of the 26th Week of Ordinary Time: Who are we to answer God?

    Today’s readings

    [Mass for the school children.]

    Our first reading today sounds almost like God could be asking us all the same questions. He asked Job these things to help Job understand that God knows things that Job will never come to understand. We’re like that too. How many of us have ever told the sun to rise and had the sun obey? How many of us have walked on the ocean floor? Who of us knows for certain how big the world or the universe is? Could any of us have thought up the system of having the darkness and the light take charge of the various times of day? Well, no, none of us could ever have thought of or done any of those things. Only God could have.

    I told the adults who came to morning Mass yesterday that Job had a really hard life. We’ve been hearing a little of his story all this week. Job was a good man. He had a good family, a nice place to live, and many flocks of animals. But one day Satan came to God and said that it’s only because God has been so good to Job, and that God has given Job all these things that Job is such a good man. Satan said that if God really wanted to see if Job was a good man, he should take away everything and see what happens. So God allowed Satan to test Job. In an instant, everything Job had was gone. His children were all killed in a horrible accident. All of his livestock were killed too. The house in which they live was destroyed and Job was left with nothing but sadness.

    With that kind of sadness, we could sure understand if Job was angry. I don’t know if he was or not, but he certainly was confused. This is what he says just a bit before the reading we heard today:

    Why doesn’t God All-Powerful
    listen and answer?
    If God has something against me,
    let him speak up
    or put it in writing!
    Then I would wear his charges
    on my clothes and forehead.
    And with my head held high,
    I would tell him everything
    I have ever done.
    I have never mistreated
    the land I farmed
    and made it mourn.
    Nor have I cheated
    my workers
    and caused them pain.
    If I had, I would pray
    for weeds instead of wheat
    to grow in my fields.
    Job 31:35-40a, CEV

    So Job is challenging God to tell him why all this bad stuff was happening. And God replies in the reading we heard today: If Job was not going to be able to understand how the sun came to rise and set, and why the ocean only went so far and didn’t swallow up the whole earth, if Job didn’t understand how the world was made, well then, he certainly wasn’t going to understand why things were happening in his life.

    And we’re just like Job sometimes. Bad things happen to us. Maybe we fail a test, or get into an argument with a friend. Maybe our parents get angry with us. Or maybe some really bad things happen like someone we love dies. The one thing that we learn in life is that sometimes bad things happen. We all experience sadness and pain sometimes. And when that happens, we always try to understand it. That’s just the kind of people we are. We try to understand everything in the world. And we have come to learn a lot. We can understand all kinds of scientific things. But how was the world created? None of us were there and there’s no tests we can do, so anything we say about that is just a theory. So if that’s hard for us to understand, we can be sure that the reasons for our sadnesses and pains are going to be hard to understand too. We may never understand them in this lifetime.

    The only one who understands is God. The mind of God is bigger than anything we can imagine. God is present to the past, present and future all at once. God sees the “big picture.” When we are going through those sad times, we have to come to trust God just like Job did at the end of our reading today. He said, “who am I to answer you?” God is in control of all our lives, in control of our coming and going. We have to trust in God to make sense of it all, even when we are most confused and very sad. We have to trust in God to change our sadness into joy, just as he did later on in the story for Job. It may take a while, but God will surely heal us and comfort us if we let him.

    Today we are celebrating a Mass of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. In this Mass, we remember how much God loves us. God loved Job very much, and healed him and gave him great joy after all of his sadness. We can trust that God, through the Sacred Heart of Jesus, loves us just as much as he loved Job, if not more. Whenever we have sadness and pain, we can know that God will eventually give us comfort and joy, even greater than we ever had before.