God stands by his Word.

Homily: 3^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

          Friends, if you heard or read my homily from last weekend, you’ll know that jumping back into Ordinary Time has always proven difficult for me.  This is because Ordinary Time always askes us to take a hard look at our discipleship and to work on making continuous improvements to it.  In other seasons—you know, Advent/Christmas and Lent/Easter—the things that we are called to focus on are spelled out for us and so it makes entering into that time a little easier.  In Ordinary Time we have to be more “self-starting”, so to speak, which is harder: thus, why I don’t like it as much.

          You’ll remember that I also said that, this year, I have decided to make this Ordinary Time different: that is, that I was going to strive to be intentional about engaging this time and seek some specific ways that I can grow and improve in my discipleship and that I was going to try and let our liturgy lead me.  Specifically, I am going to pay attention to the message that comes to us through the scriptures we read at Mass and allow them to propose one thing for me to work on each week.  Last week, I focused in on John the Baptist’s prophetic proclamation: “Behold, the Lamb of God…”  I decided to do a better job of “beholding” Jesus throughout the week.  The task was easy enough to remember (I just had to remember the word, “behold”), but the work was hard.  Nonetheless, I felt that I was, indeed, more intentional about “beholding” Jesus when I read the scriptures in my morning prayer time, during Eucharistic Adoration this past Wednesday evening, and in the people with whom I interacted throughout the week.  And it was good!  It wasn’t perfect, but it was a good start and I intend to continue even as I look this week to the “one thing” that our liturgy reveals to me.

          This week, the “thing” that the liturgy is revealing has been handed to us on a platter, of sorts.  That’s because this Sunday is the first “Sunday of the Word of God”, which Pope Francis inaugurated last year.  The Holy Father has called for this special celebration in order to enshrine a celebration which commemorates the unbreakable bond between sacred Scripture and the Eucharist.  In calling for this celebration, Pope Francis hopes to inspire all of us to know our Lord better through our prayerful reading and study of sacred Scripture.  Last week, when speaking of beholding Jesus in the Scriptures, I said that one of my seminary professors always reminded us that “an encounter with the Scriptures is an encounter with Christ” and so I’m grateful for this celebration which reinforces that notion and calls us all to seek our Lord Jesus in the word of God, preserved for us in these Scriptures.

          Before I go any further, I’d like to point out that one of the things that celebrating this Sunday as the Word of God Sunday highlights about us is that the Catholic Church is truly a “Bible Church”.  If you talk to other non-Catholic Christians, many will ask, “Is your church a ‘bible church’?”, meaning, “Do they believe in the Bible as the sacred word of God and as authoritative?”  As Catholics, we better all (that is, each one of us) and always say, “YES!  The Catholic Church is a Bible Church.  In fact, it is THE BIBLE CHURCH, since without the Catholic Church, there would be no Bible!”  In fact, the very fabric of the Mass that we celebrate is the Holy Word of God.  Don’t believe me?  Read Scott Hahn’s book, The Lamb’s Supper, and he’ll show you just how deep of a foundation sacred Scripture is for the Mass.  In celebrating this Sunday as “Word of God Sunday” we are boldly proclaiming to the world that we hold in veneration the Holy Word of God as God’s authoritative word to us.

          Nonetheless, I think that there is still a more particular message for us in today’s readings that can be the thing that guides our work as disciples this week, and it is this: the Word of God is both the record of God’s promises to us and the evidence of their fulfillment.  In our first reading today, we heard from the prophet Isaiah, who is speaking to the people of the northern kingdoms of the tribes of Israel—those who had been exiled after being conquered by the Assyrians—and he is promising them that the Lord, who allowed them to fall into this suffering because of their sins, will now return to redeem them from their suffering.  And they did return.  Unfortunately, however, they would once again fall into exile under the Babylonians, highlighting that the redemption the Lord had worked for them was partial: that is, that it wasn’t the full redemption of mankind that God had promised from the Garden of Eden, but rather the partial redemption that brought them back from exile to their homeland so that they might begin again.

          Nevertheless, Saint Matthew, the evangelist, references this prophecy from Isaiah when he describes the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry in our Gospel reading today so as to indicate that what had been partially redeemed before was now about to find its fulfillment in Jesus.  Jesus, himself, perhaps never said that he left Nazareth to live in Capernaum when he began his public ministry so as to fulfill what had been said through Isaiah the prophet, but Matthew nonetheless saw that move as intentional and, through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, interpreted it as such.  And this was Jesus’ way, right?  He never said, “Look at me, I’m the Messiah, come and worship me!”  Rather, he preached the kingdom and performed the signs of the kingdom (healing, driving out demons, etc.) and then said, “Look at the works I do.  If you know the Scriptures, you’ll know what that means about who I am.  If you believe, come follow me.”

          This “M.O.” of Jesus is exactly why we need to take for our work this week a deeper reading and study of the sacred Scriptures.  In order to see the events that happen in our lives and understand how it is God who is both speaking to us through them and, more importantly, fulfilling his promises to us, we need to be immersed in study of those ancient promises and of how they were fulfilled in Christ.  Still further, we need to see in the Scriptures how that fulfillment was entrusted to the Church so as to make it living and present to every succeeding generation.  It’s pretty rare that God himself will announce, “See this is how I’m fulfilling my promises right now.”  Most common, rather, is for God to work, using his familiar signs, but without much fanfare, and our job is to recognize those signs and then to respond in kind.  Reading and studying the Scriptures is a primary way that we prepare to do that.

          Therefore, my friends, as we celebrate the Word of God this weekend, and as we offer this sacrifice of thanksgiving to God for it, let us make a modest, yet firm commitment to engage God’s Word in the sacred Scriptures daily: allowing us to “behold” Jesus for a time while also reminding us of God’s promises and of Jesus, who has brought all of those promises to fulfillment: the fullest evidence of which will soon be made present to us on this altar.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – January 25^th & 26^th, 2020

Systems and spiritual ruts

Homily: 2^nd Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle A

          As many of you know, I used to be an engineer before studying to become a priest.  (No, I wasn’t one of those cool engineers who drives trains, but rather was one who designs and builds things.)  Because of this, I know that engineers can be very good at many things.  I also know, however, that having an “engineering mind” comes with limitations.  One of the things that engineering minds do is that they see things in systems.  In other words, they see a problem that needs to be overcome (or, perhaps, just a way to make things more convenient) and they immediately start to see the system that could be put in place to overcome it (or make it more convenient).  Think of those automatic one-cup coffee makers, like a Keureg.  Pop in a pod, push a button and voila, the system takes care of the rest.  This is how my brain works and so I like systems.

          This has presented me a challenge, however, in my spiritual life.  You see, I expect that, by systematizing my spiritual life, I’ll make it better and easier to manage.  I create a schedule and gather the necessary tools (bible, spiritual reading, rosary, etc.) so that when I sit down to do it, it’ll just work.  This, at least, is what my mind expects.  The problem with this, however, is that our spiritual lives don’t quite work that way.  While it is possible to make our spiritual lives system-like, they can never be totally systematic; if by that we mean mechanized and impersonal (that is, not if we expect to achieve any sort of satisfaction with it).  In other words, if the engagement that we give to our lives as disciples is nothing more than we give when we push the button on the coffee machine, then we don’t have much of a spiritual life at all.

          This is why I dislike Ordinary Time.  In Ordinary Time we focus on our discipleship, on our spiritual lives, and (if we’re paying attention) we’re constantly being challenged to examine how we are doing (that is, to examine our systems) so as to change and improve and grow.  A system that is living in this way is much more difficult to cultivate and maintain than one in which we just push a button or punch a clock and forget about it.  Thus, you can see why I dislike it; because it says that “my system is never good enough, that it still needs tweaking, that this project is still ongoing.”

          When I’m really honest with myself, however, I realize that all my “systems” end up leaving me in a rut.  I find that if all that I’m doing each year is pulling out the same practices, reading the same spiritual books, or praying the same rote prayers, that my spiritual life begins to feel lethargic.  Now, there’s nothing wrong with repeating things that have worked for you in the past, but the challenge is to engage these things anew each time.  And so, if I’ve made a personal commitment to pray a rosary every day, then I have to search for something new in it every day.  After years of praying it, that’s not going to be easy.  But if it is truly a prayer—that is, truly an opportunity to engage my relationship with God—then there will always be a chance that I will find something new (if I’m looking for it).  This is hard work: the kind of hard work that Ordinary Time challenges us to do, which is why it is not my favorite time of the year.

          A few years ago, I decided to try something new.  I decided to change my attitude about Ordinary Time so as to engage it more intentionally.  I decided to take a deep look at these familiar readings that we hear each week in the context of this familiar liturgy that we celebrate in order to find how they challenge me to grow, both as a person and as a disciple of Jesus Christ.  I decided to be content with the fact that my “spiritual life” project isn’t finished (and probably never will be), but that I can’t leave the project undone, either, and so I put myself to work at it.  This year I intend to do the same and I hope that you all will come with me.

          In these weeks of Ordinary Time leading up to Lent and Easter, I’m going to look for some particular thing that will challenge me to go deeper in my spiritual life so as to make it stronger and more fruitful; and I hope to share that with all of you.  Perhaps these will help you to go deeper, too.  So, where do we begin?

          This week, I think that we begin with John the Baptist’s prophetic proclamation: “Behold…”  I think that if we are going to go deeper in our spiritual lives that we must begin by beholding who it is that we are following.  Of course, we have the opportunity to do this here in the Eucharist.  Right before Communion, I will raise the Blessed Sacrament and say to you “Behold the Lamb of God…”  This kind of beholding we also do in Eucharistic Adoration, which we have every Wednesday night and Friday afternoon.  Perhaps in these next weeks, each of us can make it a point to try and spend some time beholding Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament during adoration.

          We also behold Jesus whenever we read and meditate on the Scriptures.  A seminary professor used to tell us that “Every encounter with the Scriptures is an encounter with Christ.”  Therefore, we can behold him in the Scriptures.  Finally, we can behold him when we acknowledge Jesus in our brothers and sisters in need.  Saint Teresa of Calcutta used to say that she saw the face of Jesus (in other words, she beheld him) in the men and women she served.  And so, we too can behold the face of Jesus when we love those in need around us.

          “Is that it, Father?  This sounds like it’s going to be a slow process.”  Yes, it is; and this will be enough for this week.  Have you ever been sick and had to stay home from work or school for one, two, or more days?  Didn’t those weeks seem to be longer than the rest?  They weren’t, but they felt longer because we were forced slowed down.  If we want to go deeper in our spiritual lives, then we must learn to go slow and let the process work on us.  If in this week we can learn to break out of our systems (and the spiritual ruts they can lead us into) and to behold Jesus in our daily lives, starting right here in the Eucharist, then we will be ready for what comes next.  Come, then, and let us behold him.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – January 19^th, 2020

To be a star to others

Homily: Solemnity of the Epiphany – Cycle A

          Fr. Mike McKinney was the pastor to whom I was assigned as a newly ordained priest about seven and a half years ago.  He’s a good pastor and I learned a lot from him.  One of the things that always impressed me about Fr. Mike (well, I should say that it shocked me at first, but then I was impressed) was his lack of inhibition with talking to strangers about their religious lives.  During my first weeks in Logansport, Fr. Mike took me around to different places in order to get me orientated to business related stuff in the parish (you know, like putting my signature on file at banks and things like that).  At almost every stop, he would inquire into the religious life of the person who was helping us.

          Being a newly ordained priest, I wasn’t yet used to the fact that walking around with a collar on basically gives you a free pass to talk to people about religion and so I was a little bit shocked when Fr. Mike would ask these strangers if they went to church and if so what church they went to.  Almost just as shocking, however, was that fact that multiple times the answer was “no, I’ve never gone to church.”  Did you hear that?  It wasn’t “oh, I was going to this church, but I stopped,” rather, it was “I’ve never gone to church.”  Talking about this later with Fr. Mike, he assured me that this was a rather typical response from people: that many people there had been growing up completely “unchurched.”

          The three wise men—a.k.a. the Magi—were also “unchurched,” (at least in the Judeo-Christian sense of the term).  These "kings" from the east were astronomers and probably practiced some sort of pagan religion (if they practiced any religion at all).  Thus, they knew little to nothing about a God who purportedly had chosen a specific people, living in the land of Canaan, to be his own people and that this God had promised to send them a Messiah, a king who would rule on the throne of one of their great forefathers.  What they did know, however, was that the appearance of a great star in the sky was an indication that a great king had been born.

          Thus, when these three wise men from the orient saw the great star appear in the west, they knew what it meant.  And even though they were pagans, they were good men and, thus, they knew that it would be right to make a journey to find this newborn king and to pay him homage, bringing him kingly gifts to honor him.

          Here a couple of thousand years later, we find ourselves at a bit of a disadvantage to those kings.  We live in an age when rulers—that is, those who govern societies—are chosen from among the people whom they will rule.  In other words, we elect our government officials.  For better or for worse, this is what we are used to.  Back in the time of the Magi, however, great rulers were born—that is, destined from infancy to be royalty—and great natural signs were often cited as accompanying their births as a signal that the child’s destiny had been ordained by God.  We, as a people, however, have decided that it would be better if we relied more on our reason; choosing our government leaders based on what we perceive to be their merits, rather than on the interpretation of some natural sign.

          As a result, we have generations of people who have stopped looking for signs.  In other words, we have generations of people who have stopped believing in God’s providential presence among us and have come to rely completely on themselves to make decisions in their lives.  Thus, there are many people—including many who live around us here in Tippecanoe County—who are fumbling in the dark, trying to make sense of life without the providential guidance of God, which is readily available to them!  The only thing that keeps them fumbling in the dark is that they haven’t seen a light bright enough to break into the darkness and lead them out of it.

          In the first reading today, we heard the prophet Isaiah proclaim to the people, “See, darkness covers the earth, and thick clouds cover the peoples; but upon you the Lord shines, and over you appears his glory.  Nations shall walk by your light, and kings by your shining radiance.”  My brothers and sisters, this message applies to us today just as much as it did to the Israelites over two-thousand years ago.  We, the Church, are the New Jerusalem; the city on which God’s light shines.  Thus, we are called to be a light to the nations, to those stumbling in darkness around us.  Yet, for the most part, it seems, we are content to cover up that light as we walk out of this place so that those walking in darkness never see it.  We’re embarrassed to engage friends and neighbors—and often even our own family members—about faith, about what we believe, and about how what we believe makes a positive difference in our lives.  We’re embarrassed to pray in public, even if it is just a small prayer of blessing over a meal in a restaurant.  No, even though we receive life itself when we receive the Body and Blood of Jesus from this altar, we are content to let those walking in darkness to remain in darkness because we worry that they would be offended or think that we were stupid if we talked to them about it (or, worse yet, that they would start asking us about our faith).

          My brothers and sisters, the world desperately needs another star, like the one those wise men saw nearly two-thousand years ago.  The world needs a new Epiphany!  Our task as those who profess Christ as Lord is to be that epiphany.   In other words, we are called to be that star, shining brighter than any other star, that catches the attention of those dwelling in darkness and leads them to an encounter with Christ: an encounter that will manifest the light of salvation for them so that they may live in the joy that comes from knowing him.

          My brothers and sisters, this is the new evangelization that the last three Popes have called for, but it won’t happen overnight.  In order to be that star for others, we first need to renew and deepen our own faith.  This year our parish is offering many different opportunities for you each to learn more about our faith (like a series on the Mass during Lent) and there are a multitude of other resources out there of which you can take advantage (our parish continues to subscribe to Formed.org, which has an unbelievable amount of material, and there is the CD and book rack in the gathering space, just to name a few, readily available resources).  By this intentional effort to renew and deepen our faith, we will grow in confidence in the truth of our faith.  When that confidence grows, so too will grow a desire to share our faith with others; in other words, our desire to be that star for others will grow.

          Friends, we need a sense of urgency about this.  Remember that, throughout Advent, we were reminded that the second coming of the Lord is imminent and that he is coming with judgment.  Thank God he hasn’t come today!  Just think of all of the people we know who would be lost to the fires of hell because we refused to share Christ’s light with them.  I can name three right off the bat: my cousin Joe, my friend Jake, and my sister’s husband Jason.  My guess is that most of us can at least think of one.  If so, please pray for that person: that God’s light would shine into their lives and turn him/her to Him.  Pray also for God’s wisdom to know how he is calling you to be his light for that person.  Then pray for the courage to do it.  My friends, I promise you, God will not fail to answer these prayers.

          First things first, however.  First, we need to come to Christ ourselves to honor him as our King and the good news is that he will be appearing before us soon, here on this altar.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – January 5^th, 2020