Sunday, December 25, 2016

La Buena Nueva: Salvados por medio de nuestra humanidad!

          ¡Feliz Navidad a todos! Que su encuentro con el Niño Jesús en este tiempo santo lo atraigo más profundamente en el amor de su Sagrado Corazón.


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Homilía: La Solemnidad de la Navidad del Señor – Misa del Día
          Una de las cosas que muchos de ustedes pueden haber notado acerca de los católicos aquí en los Estados Unidos es que la manera en que oramos y adoramos a menudo es muy diferente a la forma en que los hispanos oran y adoran. Los católicos en los Estados Unidos han sido fuertemente influenciados por el protestantismo británico, en particular los puritanos británicos que primero vinieron y se establecieron aquí en esta tierra. Protestantes, inspirados por maestros como Martín Lutero, querían alejarse de muchas de las prácticas devocionales medievales que eran comunes en el siglo XVI. Estas prácticas (del exterior, al menos) parecían estar dirigidas a "ganar" la gracia de Dios. Martín Lutero sabía que no "ganábamos" la gracia de Dios, sino que Dios la daba libremente, y así comenzó a enseñar a otros un estilo diferente de oración y adoración que se enfocaba menos en estas extravagantes prácticas devocionales y más en las prácticas espirituales del interior: la lectura y la meditación de las Escrituras y la escucha de la Palabra de Dios proclamada y explicada en la asamblea.
          Y así, vemos hoy esta influencia en el catolicismo de Estados Unidos. Las celebraciones anglo de la Misa a menudo son mucho más moderadas. La gente se sienta en silencio, responder reservadamente, y de lo contrario tratar de no hacer mucho ruido. Desde mi punto de vista, a menudo siento que tengo una audiencia que está viendo mi espectáculo, en lugar de una congregación que participa activamente en ella.
          A menudo no siento eso cuando estoy celebrando una misa con los hispanos. Con ustedes todavía hay un sentido muy profundo de que lo espiritual está inseparablemente entrelazado con lo físico. Simplemente no basta con cerrar los ojos, doblar las manos y orar: "Señor, por favor guarda mi venida y mi salida, mi frente y mi espalda", sino que también debes bendecirse con agua bendita tanto en el frente Y la espalda de su cuerpo. No, no es suficiente para todos ustedes reunirse para cantar canciones a María a las ocho de la mañana; Más bien, para mostrar su devoción a la Virgencita, se levantan mucho antes del amanecer. Aquí, en la misa, todos ustedes son mucho más animados que los anglos. Su canto y sus respuestas son mucho más entusiastas, en general. La música es más fuerte y la Misa tiene más energía, en general.
          Por supuesto, toda esta energía y espíritu devocional, como Martin Luther observado en tiempos medievales, puede llegar a ser extremo. Mientras yo estaba en Guatemala, observé, particularmente en lugares de peregrinación, personas que se causaban un gran dolor físico al ingresar para hacer su ofrenda en el santuario de peregrinación (por ejemplo, caminar de rodillas desde una distancia hasta el lugar del santuario). Éstos son personas de gran fe, sin duda, pero recuerden que Jesús dijo que sólo necesitamos la fe del tamaño de una semilla de mostaza para poder mover montañas, y así una oración sincera en el lugar del santuario probablemente bastaría. Sin embargo, no puedo dejar de apreciar cómo la cultura hispana ha mantenido su sentido de que lo físico está inseparablemente ligado a lo espiritual.
          De muchas maneras, hoy celebramos esta conexión. Hoy celebramos el hecho de que Dios—quien es totalmente otro, espíritu puro, y fuera y por encima de nuestros sentidos—toma carne humana y habitó entre nosotros. Al hacerlo, también celebramos la razón por la que vino a nosotros: para sufrir y morir y resucitar para salvarnos de nuestros pecados; Porque cada momento de la vida de Jesús aquí en la tierra fue una preparación para su pasión que nos ganó la salvación.
          Sin embargo, al celebrar hoy su venida entre nosotros, destacamos una verdad importante: que al asumir un cuerpo humano, con todas sus limitaciones físicas, Dios quiso que supiéramos que podemos experimentarlo a través de nuestros sentidos. De hecho, lo que Dios nos reveló a través de la encarnación de su Hijo—y a través de su Pasión, Muerte y Resurrección—fue que él desea salvarnos precisamente a través de nuestros cuerpos humanos.
          En los primeros siglos de la Iglesia, un obispo llamado Atanasio propuso esta simple, pero profunda verdad: que Dios se hizo hombre, para que el hombre pudiera llegar a ser Dios. Antes de Jesús, era posible argumentar que el cuerpo no era necesario para encontrar la salvación. Esto es porque Dios aún no había revelado completamente su plan para la redención de la humanidad. Por lo tanto, todavía era posible creer que Dios simplemente redimiría a su pueblo por el poder de su Palabra Todopoderosa. Después de la venida de Jesús, sin embargo, ya no es posible hacer este tipo de argumento. Más bien, ahora que Jesús ha ganado la salvación para nosotros, precisamente a través de su obediencia humana en la carne, la voluntad de Dios es clara que la humanidad sea salvada a través de nuestros cuerpos humanos. ¡Y esto es una buena noticia! Buenas noticias que estamos obligados a compartir.
          Miren, hay algunas personas que viven alrededor de nosotros que no han oído esta buena noticia: que el Todopoderoso Dios ha tomado carne humana y viene para salvarnos. Mire a su alrededor, ninguno de ellos está aquí con nosotros hoy. Seamos, pues, los que traigan este mensaje de gran alegría a ellos, haciendo que nuestros pies sean "hermosos por correr sobre la montaña", para que todos “los confines de la tierra contemplen la victoria de nuestro Dios”; la victoria que nos ha nacido a nosotros hoy.
Dado en la parroquia Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN
25 de diciembre, 2016

The dirty, stinky, yet glorious reality of Christmas

          Merry Christmas to everyone!  May your encounter with the Christ Child in this holy season draw you more deeply into the love of his most Sacred Heart.




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Homily: Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord - Mass at Midnight
          About a month and a half ago, I was scrolling through my Facebook feed and my eye was caught by the headline of an article that one of my friends had shared.  It read: “Sweet Jesus, there’s a ‘hipster’ nativity scene you can buy.”  Of course my initial reaction was a face palm, but then I had to click the link so that I could see if this was for real or if it was a joke.  Unfortunately, it’s for real.
          The producers of this nativity scene claim that this is what they believe Jesus’ birthday would be like in today's world.  A “hipster” is someone “who follows the latest trends and fashions, especially those regarded as being outside the cultural mainstream.”  Knowing this, you can probably now begin to imagine what this nativity scene looks like.  This “updated” version has Joseph in loose khakis, Mary in leggings and sneakers with her takeaway coffee while posing for a “selfie” that Joseph is taking of the three, with the baby Jesus in the manger, wearing a knit beanie—Mary, making the obligatory “peace sign” and “duck lips”.  The three wise men are on Segways carrying their gifts in Amazon Prime boxes.  There’s also a “hipster” shepherd with an iPad to spread the good news on Instagram, whose sheep is, ironically, wearing an ugly Christmas sweater (presumably, made out of wool), a "100% organic" cow (it has a stamp on its hind quarter indicating this) is eating gluten-free feed (obviously), and the “stable” is, of course, solar powered.  It is extremely clever, to say the least.  But I have to be critical of it, because in trying to reimagine the scene for modern times, it loses all of the meaning of the original.
          What this nativity scene is doing is making a “cultural appropriation”.  What that means is that it takes something from a completely different time and culture (a style of clothing, a cultural practice, or a way of speaking) and forcefully conforms it to fit into its own culture.  What often happens with this is that the richness of meaning that the thing contained in its original culture is lost as the surface aesthetics are adapted into the new culture.  Sure, the hipster nativity scene has all of the basic elements of the original: the stable, the manger, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the shepherds, the livestock, and the wise men—but it has lost all of the depth of meaning that it has in its Christian context.  For example, the original context emphasizes the poverty of the Holy Family and, thus, that Jesus was born into the lowliest of conditions.  The modern version drops the “holy family” directly into the upper middle class, leaving Jesus to be a victim not of poverty but rather of “white privilege”.
          This cultural appropriation, then, is really an “objectification” of the scene: taking a real, subjective reality (that is, a reality in which real subjects are involved, and, thus, whose experiences cannot be changed) and objectifies it, turning it into a tool for our amusement and pleasure.  (Thus, in a technical, but real, sense, this “hipster” nativity scene is pornography: the objectifying of a subjective experience for one’s personal amusement and pleasure.)  Can you see what’s wrong with this?  My guess is that you can.  Perhaps, however, we can look at something even a little more familiar.
          A Christmas Story is the 1983 movie that tells the story of Ralph Parker and his quest to get a Red Rider BB-gun for Christmas.  I personally love this film, but in many ways it’s a documentary of how the Midwestern middle-class family has also objectified Christmas.  For the characters in this film, Christmas has absolutely nothing to do with Jesus, let alone Mary or Joseph.  They have appropriated all of the sentimental parts of Christmas—the Christmas tree, presents, feasting, snow falling on Christmas day, etc.—and have dumped all of the underlying reasons why there even is a Christmas in the first place (namely, Jesus’ birth and the celebration that a Savior has been born).  It has all the feels, but none of the substance.  But we relate to this, don’t we?  Of course we do!  Because this is probably how we’ve lived Christmas our whole lives, in part, at least.  But it’s not real… it’s not Christmas (at least, not Christmas as the celebration of Christ’s birth).
          My brothers and sisters, in order to celebrate Christ’s birth without objectifying it, we have to return to understand the original event and what it meant to those involved and to the world.  Imagine, therefore, a people suffering under a great oppression—a people of strong faith in their God who has promised to send them a leader who will free them from their suffering (my mind thinks of the people of Syria or of the lands occupied by ISIS)—who then hear that the one who has been promised has, indeed, been born.  Imagine what their reaction might be and you can begin to understand the words of the prophet Isaiah, who so beautifully described what that experience might be like: that people who walked in darkness and gloom would see light, that those who had experienced the yokes of their oppressors and the rods of their taskmasters would see them smashed, and that those who had boots that had trampled in battle and cloaks that had been rolled in blood would see them burned, for their oppression had truly come to an end.  This was not trite sentimentality, this was a reality to which the hearer was subject.
          Then in the Gospel Luke describes the fulfillment of this prophesy.  He weaves a wonderfully subversive narrative that completely up-ends the worldly idea of power.  Although Caesar is demonstrating his power over the world, the long-awaited Savior is born in the lowliest of circumstances: into a poor family in a cave—where animals take shelter—because they couldn’t afford to rent a bed for the night.  Then angels appear in God’s glory… and to who?  To Caesar?  To Herod, king of the Jews?  No!  They appear to shepherds in a field!  They appear to those whom the world considered to be “nobodies” and proclaimed this Good News.  And what news it was!  This should have been proclaimed to the world’s great rulers, but instead it was given to poor shepherds first.  My brothers and sisters, this is not sentimentality: every bit of this is dirty, stinky, and yet gloriously real.
          My brothers and sisters, Christmas is not “pretty”: it is shocking, awesome, tear-inducing, and inspiring.  If this has not been your experience, then you have been celebrating a false Christmas (or, at least, an incomplete one). The reason why we come here and make everything seem so special and beautiful is not to give you warm fuzzy feelings, but rather to make real once again the experience of that first night of Christ's birth: Angels appearing in God's glory and crying out that this life of darkness in which you have been living is now ended.  The reason we walk into a brightly lit church in the darkest part of the night in the darkest nights of the year is to remind ourselves of this.  This is not to escape the reality of our lives but rather to give fullest relief to the full reality of our lives.  Christ is born!  The Savior, the one whom God promised would bring peace—real peace—and who would rule in peace and justice forever.
          The man-made magic of tinsel on trees and warm apple cider and snow falling in the moonlight is a false Christmas.  Christmas is people who acknowledge their suffering, and their inability to relieve themselves from it, suddenly seeing that their hero, who will come to relieve their suffering, has come and so they rejoice!  This is the day of our salvation and we give lavish gifts to one another as a sign that our poverty has ended and that we will now live in a time of prosperity under our newborn king who has come to save us.
          My brothers and sisters, if this is not the Christmas that you are celebrating, then it is time to be converted.  Turn here tonight and acknowledge that, indeed, there is darkness in which you have been walking and of which you have been powerless to overcome.  Acknowledge that God has never stopped promising you that he would be the light in that darkness.  And acknowledge that Jesus, born into the darkness of a cave to poor parents in a little, unknown town of Palestine is the fulfillment of that promise: the fulfillment that is continually made present to us on altars throughout the world whenever the Eucharist is celebrated.
          If you are not ready to acknowledge these things, then you are not ready to celebrate Christmas.  Do not be afraid, however, for the glory of the Lord is ready to appear to us again here at this altar.  If only you would adore him, you would make yourself ready.  Venite adoremus…. Venite adoremus… O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 25th, 2016

Sunday, December 18, 2016

The obedience that conquers fear

Homily: 4th Sunday of Advent – Cycle A
          Fear is a powerful thing, and rightly so.  Fear is one of the essential tools that all animals use for survival.  When we find ourselves in a dangerous situation, fear of dying causes us either to fight what is in front of us or to run away from it in order to preserve our lives.  For example, if I’m walking through a neighborhood and am confronted by an unfriendly looking dog, I have a decision to make: either I’m going to stand my ground and try to fight him off if he attacks me, or I’m going to run away, hoping that he doesn’t catch me.  Without fear, however, I might be a “sitting duck” to the dog’s attack.  We fear things that threaten us.
          We also fear things that we don’t trust.  In other words, the possibility that what is in front of us might harm us makes us guarded and unwilling to engage with it for fear of what might happen to us.  For example, I might be asked to climb a ladder to hang a decoration or to clean out the gutters, but one look at the ladder might tell me that it might collapse under my weight and so fear of injury makes me say “no” to the request.  Perhaps even my fear of heights—which is not really a fear of heights, but rather a fear of falling from those heights—would cause me not to trust the ladder, even if it was the sturdiest ladder ever made.  This also applies to people, of course, as a lack of trust in an individual—the pilot on your airline flight, for example—could cause you to skip your flight.  Fear, indeed, is powerful: it has the power to decide what actions you take in life.
          For this reason, fear can be inimical to faith.  We need look no farther than today’s Scriptures to see an example of this.  Ahaz is the king of the southern kingdom of Judah.  His kingdom has been surrounded on all sides by his enemies and he is trying to figure out what to do: should he try to fight them (invoking the assistance of the Egyptians to the south), or should he run, or should he just give up?  The prophet Isaiah comes to speak the Lord’s message to him.  He tells him: “Surrender to your enemies.  Do not fear that this will be the end of the kingdom, because God has not forgotten his promise.  In fact, God wills to give you a sign that he will not abandon you.  You tell him what that sign shall be.”  Ahaz, however, didn’t trust God and so, in a sign of false piety, he refused to ask for a sign.  He allowed his fear to overcome his faith.
          Both Mary and Joseph had the opportunity to respond like Ahaz to the revelation of God.  At the revelation of the angel, however, Mary trusted God, even given the fearful uncertainty of what this would mean for her life; and so she conceived Jesus in her womb.  Joseph, too, fearful for being found unrighteous according to the Law, trusted the revelation of the angel and so gave Jesus a patrimony—Son of the House of David—so that the prophecy of Isaiah would be fulfilled.  Both were instructed by the angel, “Do not be afraid”, and both listened.  Thus, God’s great promises to his people were finally fulfilled when two poor Jews from Galilee conquered the power of their fears and put their faith in God: submitting themselves to his will.
          These are examples for us of the “obedience of faith” that Saint Paul spoke about in the beginning of his letter to the Romans.  Obedience of this type is not blind servitude that we think of when we think of slavery as it was often practiced in the early years of this country; rather, it is loving adherence to the will of one, who has authority over you, yes, but who also has responsibility for your well-being.  The obedience of faith, therefore, is the obedience that can say “yes” in spite of a fearful unknown, because the one who asks is trustworthy.  The obedience of faith can say “yes” even in the face of a certain danger, because the one who asks has promised to carry you through.  More than all these, however, the obedience of faith is a readiness to respond in love to the one who has already poured out his love on you, which is exactly what God did when he sent his Son to become one with us and to die for us.  In fact, because of this, the obedience of faith is something we owe God, which is why Saint Paul saw it as his apostolic responsibility “to bring about the obedience of faith.”
          My brothers and sisters, this obedience of faith is that to which we are being called to return during this Advent season.  Our remembrance that Our Lord came to us as a little child to then go forth to suffer and to die so that we might be saved from sin and death forever, and that he reigns now in heaven as King of the Universe until the appointed time when he will return to bring about the fullness of his kingdom, is meant to remind us of our need to examine our lives and to ensure that we are truly prepared to receive him when he comes.  This is the work that we should have been doing for the past three weeks.  And if we haven’t been doing it, then it is the work we are being called to take up in this last week of Advent (and thanks be to God that there is a whole week left!).
          Our Father in heaven knows us well, however.  And so he know that, if we have been struggling to trust him and to overcome our fear of the unknown—or of the certain danger—that might come from our obedience, there is nothing more fear-conquering than a little child who needs to be welcomed into a warm home.  This is why the Church ends this great season of expectation with the celebration of the birth of the Christ Child: it’s easier to make a place for him.  In this final week before Christmas, my brothers and sisters, may we each finish well this good work that we have begun to overcome our fears and to give God the obedience of faith that we owe him once again.  Thus will our hearts be prepared to receive him and to acknowledge him for who he is: Emmanuel, God with us.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 17th & 18th, 2016

Sunday, December 11, 2016

Los reafirmaciones de Advent

Homilía: 3º Domingo del Adviento – Ciclo A
          Puedo entender por qué Juan Bautista podría haber puesto en duda. Él pasó su vida adulta llamando a otros al arrepentimiento para prepararse para la manifestación del Mesías y señaló a otros hacia él cuando él vino. Pero ahora Juan se encontró encarcelado por el rey israelita, Herodes, y ninguna de esas cosas que el Mesías debía presentar, de las cuales Isaías había profetizado, parecía estar llegando. Tal vez Juan se sintiera muy confundido y en conflicto, así que entiendo por qué podría haber puesto en duda.
          Es fácil entender estas cosas, tal vez, porque podemos relacionarnos. El desafío para nosotros, sin embargo, es mirar este pasaje y darse cuenta de que Juan no dudó, sino que continuó señalando a Jesús. Juan fue el gran heraldo de la venida del Mesías y por lo tanto, no tiene sentido que, después de años de creer y proclamar su venida, Juan de repente dude. Y así, si esto es lo que las Escrituras parecen decirnos, tal vez deberíamos echarle una mirada más cercana.
          El Evangelio nos dice que Juan todavía tenía discípulos; pero el propósito de Juan era convertir a sus discípulos a Jesús y así, después de haber oído de los milagros que Jesús estaba realizando y que había estado predicando el reino de Dios, Juan envió a sus discípulos a hacer la pregunta por sí mismos: “¿Eres tú el que ha de venir o tenemos que esperar a otro?” Jesús, conociendo lo que Juan estaba haciendo, no sólo les dio la respuesta, pero él les mostró la prueba de su respuesta: "Vayan a contar a Juan lo que están viendo y oyendo…" y él predicó el reino y realizó estos milagros delante de ellos.
          Okay, Padre, está bien, pero ¿qué pasa con nosotros? Es comprensible si nos sentimos un poco encarcelados en estos días. El mundo es un lugar cada vez más oscuro y es cada vez más hostil a nuestra fe. Puedo entender si quizás alguno de ustedes empiece a pensar como Juan el Bautista: "El mundo perfecto que Isaías prometió venir con el Mesías parece estar muy lejos. ¿Qué debemos hacer?" Adviento, mis hermanos y hermanas, nos da la respuesta.
          En la segunda lectura, Santiago escribió a la primera generación de cristianos y los animó a ser pacientes y a ser firmes en su conducta justa hasta que el Señor regrese. Este mismo consejo se aplica a nosotros hoy y nos recuerda por qué estamos en este tiempo santo. Aunque estamos anticipando nuestra celebración de la Navidad—la primera venida de Cristo entre nosotros—el enfoque principal de Adviento es recordarnos nuestra necesidad de anticipar la segunda venida de Cristo, que aún está por llegar. El Adviento es un tiempo de renovación en el que volvemos a Jesús y vemos una vez más por nosotros mismos la prueba de que él es, de hecho, quien él dice que es.
          Hermanos y hermanas, que nuestros corazones se abran más profundamente para recibirlo aquí, en esta Eucaristía, y así ser fortalecidos en nuestra fe que el Mesías ha venido, está aquí, y vendrá de nuevo; y así salimos de aquí regocijándonos para fortalecer los corazones de los que nos rodean, para que todos estén dispuestos a recibir el Señor cuando venga.
Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos – Logansport, IN
11 de diciembre, 2016

Advent's reassurances

Homily: 3rd Sunday of Advent – Cycle A
          I can understand why John the Baptist might have doubted.  He spent his adult life calling others to repentance in order to prepare themselves for the manifestation of the Messiah.  And on that fateful day that Jesus came out to him, he acknowledge Jesus as that Messiah, the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world.  After he had baptized Jesus and saw the Holy Spirit descend upon him and remain with him, John continued to preach repentance.  Now, however, he would turn those who were coming to him towards Jesus.  But the tables had turned, it seemed.  John found himself imprisoned by the Israelite king, Herod (someone who should have been welcoming his message!), and none of those things that the Messiah was supposed to bring forward, about which Isaiah had prophesied, seemed to be coming to fruition.
          Although I’ve never been imprisoned, I imagine that it affords a person a lot of time to think.  And, with one’s freedom removed, I imagine that it’s probably hard to think positively about things.  I can only imagine what John might have been thinking while he was in Herod’s prison: “Was I doing the right thing?”  “What if I was wrong?”  “What is Herod going to do with me?”  “What if Jesus really isn’t the Messiah?”  Then, along come some of his disciples to tell him of these things that Jesus is doing: miracles of healing and preaching about the kingdom of God.  Perhaps John felt very confused and conflicted and so I understand why he may have doubted.  He doesn’t want to doubt, though, and so he decides to send his disciples back to Jesus with this question “Are you the one who is to come or should we look for another?”
          I also understand why Jesus might have covered for him.  I mean, John was his number one promoter.  John pointed Jesus out and called him exactly what he is—the Lamb of God—and he told his disciples to turn and follow him, instead.  And so, when John’s disciples come to him saying “John told us to ask you this question: ‘Are you the one who is to come?’”, Jesus defended him: telling everyone that John was a prophet greater than all prophets and even going so far as to say that no one ever born has been greater than John (presumably including even himself).  I imagine that Jesus might have thought “If John is doubting, what will keep the rest of these people from doubting?”  And so, I understand why Jesus might have covered for him.
          It’s easy to understand these things, perhaps, because we can relate.  And so we read these scripture passages and we think “Look, they’re human just like us after all.”  And this is true!  They are human!  The challenge for us, however, is to look at this passage and realize that John didn’t doubt and that Jesus wasn’t covering for him.
          John, as we know, was the great herald of the Messiah’s coming.  He was “the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord.’”  He preached repentance because he knew that the one who would bring judgment was coming.  He leaped for joy at the presence of Jesus in the womb of Mary while he was still in the womb of his mother, Elizabeth.  And after Jesus manifested himself publicly, he boldly pointed him out and taught his followers to follow him.  His whole life was about “I must decrease, he must increase”, and so it just doesn’t make sense that, after years of believing in and proclaiming his coming, John would all of a sudden doubt.  And so, if this is what the scriptures seem to say to us, perhaps we should take a closer look.
          First, they tell us that “When John the Baptist heard in prison the works of the Christ, he sent his disciples to Jesus with this question…”  He sent his disciples…  John still had disciples!  But John’s purpose was to turn his disciples to Jesus!  In other words, his job was to work himself out of a job!  And so, having heard of the miracles that Jesus was performing and that he had been preaching the kingdom of God, John sent his disciples to ask the question for themselves: “Are you the one who is to come or should we [like, us personally] look for another?”  Jesus perceived what John was doing in sending his disciples to him and so he not only told them “yes” or “no”, but he showed them the proof of his answer: “Go and tell John what you hear and see…” and he preached the kingdom and performed these miracles before their eyes.
          John’s disciples, presumably converted, went off to share this good news with John in prison.  Jesus, far from trying to cover for John, extolls his praises as one of God’s greatest and most faithful servants.  He uses this opportunity to teach them about who John was so as to shed more light on who he was, because, remember, his followers were still just starting to understand that he is the Messiah.  And so he tells them that John is the prophet greater than all prophets, because he was chosen to be the herald of the Messiah’s coming.  More than that, however, he tells them that John is the greatest of all men because of his extreme faithfulness to God: faithfulness that isn’t deterred by the suffering caused because of imprisonment.  Then he uses this to teach about how much greater the kingdom of heaven is by saying that even this great man is as nothing in that kingdom.  All in the kingdom are greater even than he.
          Okay, but what about us?  You know, it’s understandable if we feel a little bit imprisoned these days.  The world is an increasingly dark place and it is increasingly hostile to our faith.  I can understand if perhaps any of you might begin to think thoughts like, “What if I was wrong?” and “What if Jesus isn’t who he says he is?”  “The perfect world that Isaiah promised would come with the Messiah seems to be far away, and so what are we to do?”  Advent, my brothers and sisters, gives us the answer.
          In the second reading, Saint James wrote to the first generation of Christians and encouraged them to be patient and to be steadfast in their right conduct throughout these many seasons until the Lord returns.  He exhorts them in this way because he anticipates the Lord’s return: “Behold, the Judge is standing before the gates”, he wrote.  This same advice applies to us today and reminds us of why we are in this holy season.  Although we are anticipating our celebration of Christmas—Christ’s first coming among us—the main focus of Advent is to remind us of our need to anticipate Christ’s second coming, which is still to come.
          We have come to know Jesus, the one for whom our hearts long.  Our task is to remain steadfast in faith, even in the face of hostility from the world, and to work to make the kingdom of heaven known in anticipation of Christ’s imminent return.  Advent is this time of renewal in which we return to Jesus, like John sending his disciples to him, and see once again for ourselves the proof that he is, indeed, who he says he is.  Perhaps even in our own lives we have seen him perform miracles: maybe not curing the blind or deaf or making otherwise crippled persons walk upright, but maybe in healing a broken relationship or consoling a heart crippled by a loss.  These and many more things are signs that Jesus is, indeed, the one who was to come and so we have no need to look for another.  This very fact is cause enough for us to rejoice!
          Nonetheless, we still have an even greater sign that Jesus is the one who was to come: his coming to us here at this altar.  May our hearts open more deeply to receive him here today and so be strengthened in our faith that the Messiah has come, is here, and will come again; and thus go forth from here rejoicing to strengthen the hearts of those around us so that all might be ready to receive him when he comes.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 10th & 11th, 2016

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Prepárese para los días después de la celebración

          En caso de que alguno de ustedes piense que se perdió mi homilía el pasado fin de semana, ¡no! Estaba fuera en Colorado celebrando dos amigos de mi que se casaron. Colorado es bella (y frío)! Con un total de cuatro semanas de Adviento este año, sin embargo, tenemos mucho tiempo para prepararnos. Espero que estas publicaciones continúen beneficiando a todos ustedes que los lean.

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Homilía: 2º Domingo del Adviento – Ciclo A
          No podría sorprender a ninguno de ustedes si digo esto, pero nunca he planeado una boda. Aunque nunca he planeado una boda, puedo decir que hay un montón de trabajo para preparar a celebrar una. Una vez que elijas un día y lo pongas en piedra, de repente aparecerán un montón de plazos: reservar una sala para la fiesta, reservar un fotógrafo, pedir flores, elegir un proveedor, ir de compras para trajas de novios, etc. Mucho de la planificación es necesario para celebrar una boda y estoy seguro de que un montón de sacrificios tienen que hacerse con el fin de planificarla bien. Los días y meses que preceden a la boda se convierten en una "temporada de preparación" en la que crece la ansiedad (y el estrés) para la celebración, pero en la que nunca comienza la celebración.
          El Adviento es un tiempo de preparación. Como la Cuaresma, que nos prepara para la celebración de la Pascua, el Adviento es el tiempo en que nos preparamos para nuestra celebración de la primera venida de Cristo entre nosotros cuando nació en Belén. Es un tiempo para planear el futuro, poniendo las cosas en su lugar para que nuestra celebración de Navidad es tan lleno de alegría y memorable como podría ser. Como prepararse para una boda, se pretende ser un tiempo en el que crece la ansiedad (y, a veces, el estrés) para la celebración, pero en la que la celebración aún no comienza.
          Ahora, aparte de todas las razones concretas y prácticas por las cuales esto es necesario, hay muchas otras razones espirituales que hacen que este tiempo de preparación sea importante para nosotros. Como sabemos, el hombre y la mujer que deciden casarse deben prepararse no sólo para el día de la boda, sino para todo lo que viene después del día de la boda: es decir, su vida juntos que comienza en ese gran día de celebración. Después de su día de la boda, sus vidas serán radicalmente diferentes y si no están dispuestos a abrazar esas diferencias, entonces se dará cuenta de que la alegría de su boda se desvanecerá rápidamente y que pueden comenzar a cuestionar si o no toda la preparación vale la pena después de todo.
          Nosotros también, como cristianos, debemos mirar estas temporadas de preparación, como el Adviento, no sólo como tiempos para prepararnos para la celebración de las más grandes fiestas de Nuestro Señor, como la Navidad, sino también para prepararnos para todo lo que viene después del día de celebración. Esto es porque nuestra celebración de Navidad, si se hace bien, debe cambiarnos de alguna manera; Y aunque nuestras vidas no serán radicalmente diferentes después de Navidad, todavía deben ser diferentes. En esta primera parte del Adviento consideramos el cumplimiento de la primera venida de Cristo y nos recordamos de nuestra necesidad de estar preparados para su segunda venida al final de los tiempos. Esto encaja bien con la idea de prepararse para lo que sucederá después del día de Navidad y esto es exactamente lo que nuestras Escrituras nos piden que consideremos hoy.
          En nuestra lectura del Evangelio, Juan el Bautista está llamando a todos a arrepentirse para prepararse para la venida del Mesías. Su llamada fue más que una profecía simplista, como "¡Jesús viene, parece ocupado!". Más bien, fue un llamado al verdadero arrepentimiento, porque cuando el Mesías aparezca todo va a ser diferente. Por eso tenía palabras fuertes para los fariseos y los saduceos que venían a él. Les estaba advirtiendo que esto tenía que ser un arrepentimiento del corazón y no sólo para mostrar, porque el tiempo del Mesías será un tiempo cuando las obras de todos serán desnudas. Por lo tanto, no será suficiente decir "Yo soy un hijo de Abraham" (¡porque Dios, como Juan señaló, puede sacar a los hijos de Abraham de las piedras!). Más bien, cada uno debe probar su arrepentimiento por sus buenas obras. Así vemos, su llamado al arrepentimiento no era sólo una preparación para celebrar el día de la venida del Mesías, sino más bien era un llamado a prepararse para vivir en un mundo que había sido radicalmente cambiado por su venida. Aquellos que no lo hacen se encontrarán en desacuerdo con el Señor: tal vez incluso "cortado en la raíz", como un árbol que no produce ningún fruto.
          San Pablo, que sabía de la primera venida de Cristo, anticipó ansiosamente su regreso y siguió enseñando a los primeros cristianos: "¡No vuelvas a sus antiguos caminos! Ese mundo ha terminado, el nuevo está aquí y sigue viniendo. Por lo tanto, ustedes deben vivir ahora como si ustedes ya están allí en su plenitud. Se han estado preparando durante tanto tiempo. Ahora, todo ha cambiado y deben vivir de otra manera como si el mundo de la paz y la armonía, de la que Isaías profetizó, ya se ha realizado entre nosotros. De hecho," parece decir, "su comunidad debe ser un lugar de encuentro con este cumplimiento”.
          Así pues, san Pablo ora para que Dios les dé la gracia de "vivir en perfecta armonía unos con otros" para que "con un solo corazón y una sola voz alaben a Dios, Padre de nuestro Señor Jesucristo". Porque, entonces… entonces ellos serán la "bandera de los pueblos" que "buscarán todas las naciones", como Isaías profetizó, y la salvación de Dios será extendida a todo el pueblo.
          Hoy en día contamos estas lecturas porque nuestra tarea sigue siendo la misma que fue para los cristianos del primer siglo. Si realmente anticipamos el mundo de que profetizó Isaías, entonces debemos estar viviendo como San Pablo enseñó a los cristianos romanos. Para hacer eso, necesitamos alejarnos de nuestro pecado, como San Juan Bautista nos llama a hacer. Más especialmente, tenemos que hacer sacrificios (como el ayuno y la oración) durante este tiempo de preparación, de modo que estamos listos no sólo para celebrar el aniversario del nacimiento de Cristo el día de Navidad, sino también para vivir como cristianos renovados que todavía están ansiosos por Su venida en los días que la siguen.
          Esto, por supuesto, es difícil de hacer en una cultura que es rápido para saltar a la celebración de la Navidad. Uno debe tener disciplina y un espíritu de penitencia para resistir la tentación de celebrar antes del día de la celebración. Este es un tiempo del año santo y lleno de gracia, sin embargo, así que mi oración por todos ustedes es que ustedes pueden resistir esta tentación y así dejar crecer su anticipación; para que pueda estirarles y fortalecerles a vivir con alegría renovada la celebración que viene.
          Que la venida del Señor a nosotros que experimentamos aquí en esta Sagrada Eucaristía nos ayude a emprender esta buena obra de preparación para que el cumplimiento de lo que anticipamos—es decir, la verdadera armonía entre toda la creación—se haga realidad ahora, en nuestro tiempo.
Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

4 de diciembre, 2016

Prepare for the days after the celebration

          In case any of you think that you missed my homily last weekend, you didn't!  I was away in Colorado celebrating two friends of my who married each other.  Colorado is beautiful (and cold)!  With a full four weeks of Advent this year, however, we have plenty of time to prepare.  I hope that these postings will continue to benefit all of you who read them.

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Homily: 2nd Sunday of Advent – Cycle A
          Although I’ve never actually planned a wedding, I can tell that there is a lot of preparation work that goes into it.  Once you choose a day and set it in stone, all sorts of deadlines suddenly appear before you: reserve a hall for the reception, reserve a photographer, order flowers, choose a caterer, shop for dresses and tuxedos, etc.  There is a lot of planning that goes into celebrating a wedding and I’m sure a lot of sacrifices have to be made in order to plan it well (including all the stereotypes of brides taking on intense diets and exercise so as to fit into that perfect dress that they found, right?).  The days and months leading up to the wedding become a “season of preparation” of sorts, in which the anxiety (and the stress) for the celebration grows, but in which the celebration never actually begins.
          Advent is a time of preparation.  Like Lent, which prepares us for the celebration of Easter, Advent is the time when we prepare for our celebration of Christ’s first coming among us when he was born in Bethlehem.  It is a time to plan ahead, putting the things in place so that our celebration of Christmas is as joy-filled and memorable as it could be.  Like preparing for a wedding, it is intended to be a time in which the anxiety (and, sometimes, the stress) for the celebration grows, but in which the celebration doesn’t yet begin.
          Now, aside from all of the concrete practical reasons for which this is necessary (e.g. it would be really expensive to try to celebrate your wedding for weeks leading up to the wedding day), there are many other spiritual reasons that make this time of preparation important for us.  As we know, the man and the woman who decide to marry must prepare not only for the wedding day, but for everything that comes after the wedding day: that is, their life together that begins on that great day of celebration.  After their wedding day, their lives will be radically different and if they are not prepared to embrace those differences, then they will find that the joy of their wedding will quickly fade and they may begin to question whether or not all of the preparation was worth it after all.
          We, too, as Christians, should look at these seasons of preparation, like Advent, not only as times to prepare for the celebration of the greatest feasts of Our Lord, like Christmas, but also as times to prepare for everything that comes after the day of celebration.  This is because our celebration of Christmas, if done well, should change us in some way; and although our lives might not be radically different after Christmas, they should still be different.  In this first part of Advent we consider the fulfillment of Christ’s first coming and remind ourselves of our need to be ready for his second coming at the end of time.  This fits right in with the idea of preparing for what will happen after Christmas Day and this is exactly what our Scriptures ask us to consider today.
          In our Gospel reading, John the Baptist is calling all to repent in order to prepare for the coming of the Messiah.  His call was more than the trite “bumper sticker prophesy” of “Jesus is coming: look busy!”  Rather, it was a call to true repentance, because when the Messiah appears everything is going to be different.  This is why he had strong words for the Pharisees and the Sadducees who were coming out to him.  He was warning them that this had to be a repentance from the heart and not just for show, because the time of the Messiah will be a time when the works of all will be laid bare.  Therefore, it will not be enough to say “I am a son of Abraham” (for God, as John pointed out, can raise up sons of Abraham from the rocks!).  Rather, each must prove their repentance by their good works.  So we see, his call to repentance was not just a preparation to celebrate the day of the Messiah’s coming, but rather it was a call to prepare to live in a world that had been radically changed by his coming.  Those who fail to do so will find themselves at odds with the Lord: perhaps even “cut down at the root”, like a tree that produces no fruit.
          Saint Paul, who knew of Christ's first coming, anxiously anticipated his return and so continued to teach the first Christians: “Do not turn back to your old ways!  That world is over, the new one is here and is still coming.  Therefore, you must live now as if you are already there in its fullness.  You’ve been preparing for so long.  Now, everything has changed and so you must live differently as if the world of peace and harmony about which Isaiah prophesied has already been realized among us.  In fact,” he seems to say, “your community ought to be a place of encounter with this fulfillment.”
          Thus, Saint Paul prays that God will give them the grace to “think in harmony with one another” so that “with one accord [they] may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  Then… then they will be the “signal for the nations” that “the Gentiles shall seek out”, as Isaiah prophesied, and God’s salvation will be extended to all people.
          We recount these readings here today because our task is still the same as it was for the Christians of the first century.  If we are truly anticipating the world that Isaiah prophesied about, then we must be living like Saint Paul taught the Roman Christians.  In order to do that, we need to turn away from our sin, like Saint John the Baptist calls us to do.  Most especially, we need to make sacrifices (such as fasting and praying) during this time of preparation so that we are ready not only to celebrate the anniversary of Christ’s birth on Christmas Day, but also to live as renewed Christians who are still anxious for his coming in the days that follow it.
          This, of course, is hard to do in a culture that is quick to jump to the celebration of Christmas.  One must have discipline and a spirit of penitence to resist the temptation to celebrate before the day of celebration.  This is a holy and grace-filled time of year, however, and so my prayer for all of you is that you can resist this temptation and so let your anticipation grow; so that it might stretch and strengthen you to live with renewed joy the coming celebration.
          May the Lord’s coming to us that we experience here in this Holy Eucharist help us to take up this good work of preparation so that the fulfillment of what we anticipate—that is, true harmony among all creation—might be realized now, in our time.
Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 3rd and 4th, 2016

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Su "sí" también significa "no".

Homilía: 34º Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo C
Solemnidad de Nuestro Señor Jesucristo, Rey del Universo
          En el Evangelio de hoy, saltamos hacia el centro de la narración de Lucas de la crucifixión. En él Jesús se burló de los espectadores mientras que él está en medio de su gran sufrimiento. Las autoridades judías, los soldados romanos, e incluso uno de los malhechores crucificados con él todo lo presionan para demostrar que él es el Mesías, el Rey nombrado por Dios de los Judíos, utilizando el poder divino para salvarse de la crucifixión. No puedo imaginar lo que sintió Jesús. Él sabía que él era el rey, pero, lo injuria, estos hombres lo llamaban un impostor, un farsante, porque el verdadero rey sería salvarse de esta desgracia.
          Jesús también sabía que él tenía el poder de salvar a sí mismo. Recordemos lo que sucedió cuando, en la sinagoga de Nazaret, la gente del pueblo trató de lanzar a Jesús sobre la cumbre del monte sobre el cual la ciudad fue construida debido a lo que había dicho, pero que Jesús "pasó por en medio de ellos" y escapó. Pero Jesús no lo hizo esta vez, ¿verdad? ¿Y por qué? Bueno, porque ya él sabía que ha dicho "sí" a hacer la voluntad del Padre, el que iba a ser sacrificado por la redención de toda la humanidad. Y debido a esto, se podría decir "no" a las distracciones que lo rodean: las tentaciones de usar su poder divino para salvarse de este increíble sufrimiento.
          Es un hecho simple que cuando decimos "sí" a algo, automáticamente dice "no" a muchas otras cosas. Muchas de estas cosas son conocidas a nosotros en el momento: las otras opciones de las cuales elegimos la cosa a la que dijimos "sí". Más aún, sin embargo, decir "sí" a algo también significa que hemos dicho "no" a muchas cosas que todavía no hemos encontrado. Por ejemplo, decir "sí" para casarse significa que he dicho "no" a muchas cosas: a saber, tener relaciones románticas con otras personas además de mi cónyuge y la libertad de haber vivido por mi cuenta. También podría significar, sin embargo, que tal vez sin tu reconocimiento consciente, ya has dicho "no" a la promoción del trabajo que te trasladaría a otra ciudad porque tu familia no podía moverse desde donde está.
          El autor y orador católico Matthew Kelly nos recuerda que dar vuelta hacia algo es al mismo tiempo alejarse de algo. Él nos recuerda esto porque reconoce que demasiadas personas ignoran esta realidad básica. En otras palabras, muchas personas piensan que pueden decir "sí" a una cosa sin realmente decir "no" a los demás. Pero esto es mentira, dice: una mentira que eventualmente nos dejará sintiéndonos perdidos e insatisfechos. De nuevo, en medio de todas las burlas e insultos, Jesús recordó aquello a lo que había dicho "sí" y, por lo tanto, podía decir "no" a usar su poder para salvarlo de la cruz. Del mismo modo, todos los que estaban injuriando a Jesús habían dicho "sí" a un tipo de Mesías que era diferente de la que Jesús les presentó. Por lo tanto, tenían que decir "no" a alguien que pretendía ser el Mesías que no encajaba con el tipo para el que estaban buscando.
          Sin embargo, hubo una sola voz que se negó a injuriar a Jesús: la voz del otro malhechor crucificado con él. Él, al parecer, podría ver algo... digamos... incongruente acerca de la crucifixión de Jesús. Este malhechor pudo ver que Jesús era inocente de cualquier crimen capital y que en realidad no había habido ninguna amenaza para el poder de los ocupantes romanos, y, por lo que, quizás pensó que Jesús realmente era quien decía que era: un rey que aún no se ha entrado en el reino. Y así, en su propio sufrimiento y la cercanía a su muerte, este malhechor hace un increíble acto de fe en Jesús, él decide a decir "sí" a Jesús reconociéndolo como Rey, y para ese "sí", recibió su recompensa eterna.
          Así que la pregunta, por supuesto, viene de nuevo a nosotros. ¿Hemos dicho "sí" a Jesús? En muchos sentidos, esto es lo que el Año de la Misericordia, que se termine hoy, ha estado a punto. Ha sido acerca de volver a descubrir y renovar nuestro "sí" a Jesús, diciendo "sí" a servirle por servir las necesidades corporales y espirituales de quienes nos rodean. Y si pasamos bien este año o no, hoy estamos llamados a reconocer la realeza de Jesús, que él realmente hace reinar sobre nosotros, y para renovar (o, tal vez, para hablar por primera vez), nuestro "sí" a seguir Jesús, por lo que un nuevo florecimiento de la fe puede florecer a medida que comenzamos un nuevo año litúrgico la próxima semana.
          Ya saben, como católicos, no hacemos la cosa "¿Has aceptado a Jesús como su Señor y Salvador personal?", pero la idea de esto es algo a lo que estamos siendo llamados constantemente. En el bautismo, recibimos la gracia de la salvación: la gracia ganada para nosotros por la muerte y resurrección de Jesús. Sin embargo, en algún momento de nuestras vidas, todos tenemos que decir "sí" a Jesús y tenemos que reconocer a él como Señor y gobernante de nuestras vidas. En otras palabras, tenemos que permitir que Jesús sea nuestro rey.
          Pero esto es peligroso, ¿verdad? Si decimos "sí" a Jesús, entonces tendremos que decir "no" a tantas otras cosas, ¿verdad? Entonces, ¿cómo podemos decir "sí" a él? Es decir, ¿dónde podemos encontrar el coraje para permitir que él sea el Señor y gobernante de nuestras vidas? Este coraje, mis hermanos y hermanas, viene solo a través de un encuentro con él. ¿Y dónde lo encontramos? En la oración (especialmente ante el Santísimo Sacramento aquí en la Iglesia) y en la adoración comunitaria (sobre todo aquí en la Eucaristía), en las Escrituras (especialmente cuando meditamos sobre ellos y les permiten hablar con nosotros y con nuestras vidas), y en nuestro sufrimiento (es decir, cuando somos capaces, en nuestro sufrimiento, a gire, como el "buen malhechor" en el Evangelio de hoy, y ver a Jesús, crucificado allí con nosotros).
          Mis hermanos y hermanas, cuando nos encontramos con Jesús podemos ver la inutilidad de nuestros esfuerzos en contraste con la esperanza contenida en la resurrección de Jesús de entre los muertos, y en este sentido podemos encontrar el valor de decir "sí" a él (y, por lo tanto, "no" a tantas otras cosas). En este encuentro eucarístico con Jesús, no temamos decirle "sí" y reconocerlo como nuestro Rey; y no temamos a todos a los que tendremos que decir "no" por eso: porque aunque nos haga sufrir por un tiempo en este mundo, el paraíso—es decir, la felicidad eterna—espera a los que perseveran en su "sí" a Dios.
Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

el 24º de noviembre, 2013

Your "yes" also means "no".

Homily: 34th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C
Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
          In the Gospel today, we jump right into the middle of Luke’s account of the crucifixion.  In it Jesus is being taunted by bystanders while he is in the midst of his greatest suffering.  The Jewish authorities, the Roman soldiers, and even one of the criminals crucified with him all pressure him to prove he’s the Messiah—the divinely appointed King of the Jews—by using divine power to save himself from the crucifixion.  I can only imagine what Jesus felt.  He knew that he was the king, but reviling him these men were calling him a phony, a poseur, because the real king would save himself from this disgrace.
          Jesus also knew that he had the power to save himself.  Recall what happened when, in the synagogue at Nazareth, the townspeople tried to throw Jesus over the brow of the hill on which the town was built for what he had said, but that Jesus “passed through the midst of them” and escaped.  But Jesus didn’t do that this time, did he?  And why?  Well, because he knew that he had already said “yes” to do the Father’s will, which was to be sacrificed for the redemption of all mankind.  And because of this, he could say “no” to the distractions surrounding him: the temptations to use his divine power to save himself from this incredible suffering.
          It’s a simple fact that when we say “yes” to something, it automatically says “no” to a lot of other things.  Many of these things are known to us at the time: the other options from which we chose the thing to which we said “yes”.  Sadly enough, there are whole reality shows based on this premise.  Has anyone out there watched the show “Say ‘yes’ to the dress”?  This is the whole premise to the show: saying “yes” to one and, therefore, “no” to many others.
          Still more, however, saying “yes” to something also means that we’ve said “no” to a lot of things that we haven’t yet encountered.  For example, saying “yes” to get married means that I’ve said “no” to many things: namely, to having romantic relationships with other people besides my spouse and to the relative freedom of having lived on my own.  It could also mean, however, that, perhaps without your conscious acknowledgement, you’ve already said “no” to the job promotion that would relocate you to another city because your family couldn’t move from where you are.
          Catholic author and speaker Matthew Kelly reminds us that to turn towards something is at the same time to turn away from something.  He reminds us of this because he acknowledges that too many people ignore this basic reality.  In other words, many people think that they can say “yes” to one thing without really saying “no” to the others.  But this is a lie, he says: a lie that will eventually leave us feeling lost and dissatisfied.  Again, in the midst of all of the taunting and reviling, Jesus remembered that to which he had said “yes” and, thus, could say “no” to using his power to save him from the cross.  Similarly, all those who were reviling Jesus had said “yes” to a type of Messiah that was different from the one that Jesus presented to them.  Thus, they had to say “no” to anyone purporting to be the Messiah who didn’t fit the type for which they were looking.
          Yet, there was one voice that refused to revile Jesus: the voice of the other criminal crucified with him. He, it seems could see something… let’s say… incongruent about Jesus’ crucifixion.  This criminal could see that Jesus was innocent of any capital crime and hadn’t really been any threat to the power of the Roman occupiers, and so perhaps he thought Jesus really was who he said he was: a king who has yet to come into his kingdom.  And so, in his own suffering and nearness to death, this criminal makes an incredible act of faith in Jesus—he decides to say “yes” to Jesus by acknowledging him as King—and for that “yes” he received his eternal reward.
          And so the question, of course, comes back to us.  Have we said “yes” to Jesus?  In many ways, this is what the Year of Mercy, which ends today, has been all about.  It’s been about re-discovering and renewing our “yes” to Jesus by saying “yes” to serving him by serving the bodily and spiritual needs of those around us.  And whether or not we spent this year well, today we are called to acknowledge the kingship of Jesus—that he truly does rule over us—and to renew (or, perhaps, to speak for the first time) our “yes” to follow Jesus, so that a new flourishing of faith can blossom as we begin a new liturgical year.
          You know, as Catholics, we don’t do the whole “Have you accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior” thing, but the idea of it is something to which we are constantly being called.  In baptism, we receive the grace of salvation: the grace won for us by Jesus’ death and resurrection.  Yet, at some point in our lives, we all have to say “yes” to Jesus and to acknowledge him as Lord and ruler of our lives.  In other words, we have to let Jesus be our king.
          But this is dangerous, is it not?  By saying “yes” to Jesus, then we’ll have to say “no” to so many other things.  So how, then, can we say “yes” to him?  I mean, where can we find the courage to allow him to be Lord and ruler of our lives?  This courage, my brothers and sisters, comes only through an encounter with him.  And where do we encounter him?  In prayer (especially before the Blessed Sacrament here in the Church), in communal worship (especially here in the Eucharist), in the Scriptures (especially when we meditate on them and allow them to speak to us and to our lives), and in our suffering (i.e. when we are able, in our suffering, to turn, like the “good thief” in today’s Gospel, and see Jesus, crucified there with us).
          My brothers and sisters, when we encounter Jesus we can see the hopelessness of our striving in contrast with the hope contained in Jesus’ resurrection from the dead; and in this light we can find the courage to say “yes” to him (and, thus, “no” to so much else).  In this Eucharistic encounter with Jesus, let us not fear to say “yes” to him and acknowledge him as our King; and let us not fear all to which we’ll have to say “no” because of this: because, although it may cause us to suffer for a time in this world, paradise—that is, eternal happiness—awaits those who persevere in their “yes” to God.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – November 20th, 2016

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Purified through persecution

Homily: 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C
          If any of us stopped to think about receiving a valuable gift, chances are that many of us would think of receiving something made out of gold.  Gold is a metal that we consider to be precious and valuable and so we only use it for things that will be valued and preserved.  In other words, we don’t make hammers out of gold because we expect them to be used, abused, and eventually discarded.  Wedding rings, the vessels we use at Mass, and gifts that we receive when retiring after a long career are made out of gold because they will be treasured, preserved, and valued for many years to come.
          What makes gold so precious to us is both its rarity and its beauty.  Its rarity is a characteristic inherent to gold itself.  There’s only so much gold in the world and to find a mine of it is valuable because it is a valued commodity.  Its beauty, however, is not something with which it comes naturally.  Rather, raw gold ore must be refined before it will begin to show the beauty for which it is highly prized; and this refining process is a violent one.  There are actually a few different methods of refining gold, but the two most common methods use either heat or chemicals.
          Refining with heat is one of the oldest methods of refining metals. Mentioned even in the bible, this form of refining involved a craftsman sitting next to a hot fire with molten gold in a crucible being stirred and skimmed to remove the impurities (or dross) that rose to the top of the molten metal. With flames reaching temperatures in excess of 1000 degrees Celsius, this job was definitely a dangerous occupation for the gold refiner. The tradition remains largely untouched today with the exception of a few advancements in safety and precision.
          In the chemical method of refining gold, strong acids such as nitric acid and hydrochloric acid are used to dissolve the impurities in the gold ore and, afterwards, are neutralized and washed away, taking the impurities with them. The resulting product is a muddy substance that is almost pure gold. This muddy substance is then dried until it is a powdered residue and then heated to melt the gold powder and fuse it so that it becomes a usable solid.  Both processes, as you can see, are pretty violent!  And I mention them here today because I think that they help us to understand what our Scriptures are trying to tell us today.
          Near the end of his time on earth, Jesus starts to say some disturbing things to his disciples.  He tells them that a time of violent unrest will come upon them and that no one, even his disciples, will be kept free from suffering.  In fact, he tells them, they’ll be persecuted, and some of them killed, even, perhaps, by their own family members!  This is not the image of triumph that his followers were hoping the Messiah would bring and so I can only imagine how disheartening Jesus’ words were to them.
          Nevertheless, Jesus makes a promise.  At the end of these words of “doom and gloom”, Jesus tells them, “…not a hair on your head will be destroyed.  By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”  In this promise Jesus shows his followers that there is a way through this time of tribulation and that is perseverance in faith.  Perhaps, however, this begs some questions: “If God is intent on preserving his faithful ones through this time of tribulation, why not just prevent the tribulation in the first place?  Is he just trying to test them to see if they will fail?  Is this a punishment for sins that they’ve committed, even though they were trying to follow him?”  The answer, I think, lies in our understanding of how gold is refined.
          The suffering that Jesus is predicting that his followers will experience is not the suffering of punishment or even the suffering of an uncaring God who just refuses to keep them safe from it.  I think, rather, that the suffering that is predicted is a suffering of refinement.  The tribulations that will befall Jesus’ followers are like the refiner’s fire: a violent aggression against the element that nonetheless purges its impurities so that nothing but the pure, precious element remains.
          The human person, marred by sin, is like raw gold ore: valuable more for what it could be than for what it is.  Unrefined, it is marred by the impurities that are mixed in with its chemical structure.  In order for its full beauty to be seen—and, therefore, its full value to be known—it must go through the violent and painful process of refining: stripping away its impurities, until nothing is left but pure gold, an element of striking beauty.  In preparation for the second coming of the Lord, the world—and, specifically, the human person—must also go through a refining process, because only those who are pure can stand in the presence of God.  Perseverance in faith through tribulations is like the gold maintaining the integrity of its chemical composition throughout the refining process: having endured the violent process, each person will emerge in the purity of his or her humanity and will be a strikingly beautiful creature to behold.
          The challenge, therefore, for Christians is two-fold: One, not to fall away from the faith when the tribulations come.  Remember, Jesus said “By your perseverance you will secure your lives!”  The second challenge for Christians is to hasten this transformation by living transformed lives here and now!  If we are truly anticipating Jesus’ return and the coming of God’s kingdom in its fullness, then we ought to be "stoking the flames" of the refiner's fire by living transformed lives and thus put into stark contrast the misdeeds of those who do evil.  Living the corporal and spiritual works of mercy beyond the close of the Year of Mercy is one major way to do this.  In other words, and this is counterintuitive, we prepare ourselves for the great tribulation—and, in a real sense, hasten its coming—when we readily seek tribulation in our lives: that is, opportunities to sacrifice ourselves in the name of Jesus to build up his kingdom and to purge all that is dark and impure within us.
          Another way that we can prepare ourselves for (and, thus, hasten) Jesus’ coming is our daily examination of conscience and our frequent celebration of the sacrament of reconciliation.  The examination is like a daily refiner’s fire that causes all of our impurities (that is, our sins) to bubble to the surface.  Then, in the sacrament, Jesus, the Divine Refiner, skims the dross of our impurities from the surface when we confess our sins and receive absolution.  As purified gold we then go forth to shine in the world to show it that purity is possible by the way we live our lives, now unhindered by the impurities that once discolored us.  Sure, impurities will begin to attach themselves to us once again as we intermingle with the world; and this means that this is a process that must be continually renewed until the end of time.  I believe, however, that this is what Jesus meant when he said: "By your perseverance you will secure your lives".
          My brothers and sisters, as human persons, many dark things separate us from one another and keep us from being the amazingly beautiful and pure creation that God intended us to be: a visible image of the communion of persons that he is in himself.  Therefore, let us use these frightful words that Jesus speaks to us today to inspire us to allow the refining process to work in our lives and then to be prophets in the world by which others come to acknowledge and accept their own need of refining.
          My brothers and sisters, the eternal salvation of many depends on the work that we do to bring them to accept this hard work of being refined.  Let us not fail them, but rather spend our lives for them.  In this way we will model our Lord's sacrifice for us and thus conform ourselves to his image, even as we help form the human family into the image of God on earth.  In doing so, we will secure our own salvation.  May the strength that can only come from God bring this good work to fulfillment in our lives.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – November 12th & 13th, 2016

Sunday, November 6, 2016

A Cubs championship and eternal things

Homily: 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C
          Well, it’s the beginning of November and so you know what that means, right?  Yep, the Christmas assault has begun.  And it’s the first Sunday of November so that also means that we have two more full days before our national election finally takes place and we can end at least one of these assaults on our consciousness.  For us as Catholics the beginning of November also indicates that we are approaching the end of the Liturgical Year.  As we do so, our readings make a shift from focusing on the nuts and bolts of discipleship and onto considerations about the end of time.
          This week, the focus is on the reality of the resurrection of the dead.  This is an important consideration, of course, but not only because of what we believe about Jesus (Saint Paul has said that “if there is no resurrection from the dead, then Jesus Christ is still dead and our faith is useless”), but also because it means something about how we live our lives before we die.  Our first reading illustrates this for us nicely.
          In our first reading today, we heard the testimony of three of the seven Israelite brothers who with their mother were being tortured by the Seleucid King Antiochus Epiphanes in order to get them to apostatize—that is, denounce their faith—by eating pork, which they believed God forbade them to eat.  Each of these three courageously handed over their lives to their torturers rather than denounce their faith in God by breaking the Law that he had given them; and it was the strength of their faith in the fact that God could and would raise them to life again that gave them that courage.  In other words, they believed in God’s promise of eternal life to those who remained faithful to his Laws and commandments and so they knew that if they kept themselves pure according to God’s law that, even if they should die at the hands of men, God would one day raise them to life again. And so we see that our belief in the resurrection means something about how we live our lives before we die: if there’s no resurrection, eat pork and enjoy your life, while you have it; if there is a resurrection, then we ought to conform to the laws and commandments of the one through whom the resurrection will come (that is, God), so as not to incur his wrath.
          In the Gospel reading, in answering the dilemma that the Sadducees put forth, Jesus doesn’t describe for us how we should live our lives in this world, but rather describes a glimpse of how eternal life will look.  He describes life after the resurrection of the dead as one in which those who have been raised to life “can no longer die”, indicating that it will be an immortal life which will extend through all eternity.  Eternity, I think, can be a very hard thing to imagine, however.  Fr. Larry Richards, who is a parish priest from Erie, Pennsylvania and who travels to speak nationally, has one of the best illustrations about length of time which is eternity and he describes it in this way: Imagine that, in eternity, every step requires 1,000 years to take and that you have been given the job to take every grain of sand from every beach and on every ocean floor, one at a time, to the top of Mt. Everest.  You can imagine the countless billions of years that it would take to accomplish this task. Yet once you have finished this task, eternity is just beginning.  He describes it in this way in order to put into sharp contrast the reality that with our infinitesimally short time on earth (in comparison to eternity) we will determine how we will spend eternity (either in heaven or in hell).  Thus, once again, our belief in the resurrection of the dead means something about how we ought to live our lives before we die.
          Those of you who have gotten to know me a bit know that, even though I grew up in (what is now) the far south-west suburbs of Chicago, I’ve always been a “north-sider” at heart.  Thus, you can imagine (and, perhaps, many of you share) my joy that the Cubs finally won a championship after so many years of heartache.  As I reflected on how they won this championship, I began to see a connection in this celebration (and what it took to get there) and our lives a Christians.
          In order to win the World Series, this year’s Cubs team had to battle hard.  Even though they ended the season with the best record in baseball, they still had to fight, day-in and day-out, in order to stay on top.  Then, in the Series itself, they had to battle from behind and win three straight games in order to spark the celebration that would fill them and their many millions of fans with inconceivable joy.  Very often the Christian life is no different.
          When someone acknowledges that the resurrection of the dead is, indeed, real and thus that how they live in this life determines how they will spend eternal life, then he or she begins to see this life as a battle and thus begins to fight, day-in and day-out, in order to win the prize of eternal life in heaven.  Because of our fallen nature, he or she will occasionally have to battle from behind; but nothing will deter him or her as he or she seeks to accomplish this goal: to experience the joy of entering into heaven for all eternity—a joy of which we got a glimpse when we saw the incredible joy of both the Cubs and their fans when they won the championship.
          My brothers and sisters, if we are not living this life as if it is a battle for how we will live after the resurrection of the dead—in holy fear of the one who will raise us from the dead—then we can have little hope both of accomplishing that goal and of experiencing the joy that comes when we accomplish it.  Therefore, we must engage the battle if we hope also to experience the victory.
          Perhaps many of you have heard my prophesy that when the Cubs finally win the world series it will be a sign that Jesus is coming back and that the world is coming to an end.  The jury’s still out on whether or not my prophesy is true (though, if you ask Fr. Clayton, he’ll tell you that he thinks that it is true, but that we have to wait until after Tuesday to find out exactly how it’s going to happen).  Nevertheless, it should, along with the readings that we will be hearing over these next few weeks, invite us to consider once again whether we are fighting to win the battle against the world or if we are, in fact, colluding with it: so that we might change our actions accordingly and fight so as to be ready to enjoy the victory when the fulfillment of God’s promise of resurrection comes to us.
          My brothers and sisters, Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, is the first fruit of that victory.  As we offer back to God this victory that Jesus won for us, let us ask for the grace to keep up the good fight and thus prepare ourselves to enjoy the spoils of his victory: eternal life with him in heaven.
Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – November 6th, 2016