Fast from worry this Lent

          Thank you for all who prayed for me last week while I was on retreat.  It was a refreshing week (and who would have thought that I would have enjoyed 70 degree weather in the Midwest in February?).  Let's pray for each other as we enter into this holy season of Lent on Wednesday!

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Homily: 8^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

          Today, we continue to read from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount and we hear Jesus’ teaching that we must choose whom we will serve: God or the world—because, he teaches, if we try to serve both, we’ll end up serving neither well.

          Then he goes on to remind us about why we ought to choose to serve God, instead of the world.  Serving the world, Jesus teaches, gains us nothing.  This is because God is already disposed to provide us with everything that we need.  Thus, if we choose God, we get the best of both: we gain the satisfaction of having chosen the better thing while also suffering no real loss in the world for not having pursued it.

          And if this logic isn’t enough, Jesus goes on to demonstrate how God has already proven that he will follow through.  Look at the rest of creation, he says: look at how the birds do not toil on the earth to bring forth food, yet all of them have the food they need; and look at how the flowers of the field do not spin fine thread, yet all of them are clothed in majestic colors.  Why, therefore, would God fail to do the same for you, Jesus asks, who are of a higher order (and, therefore, more important) than the rest of creation?

          Still further, in the first reading from the book of Isaiah, we are provided with another example of this.  There, Isaiah assures the Israelite people, who are languishing in exile in Babylon, that God has not abandoned them.  The message from God that he relays to them is that God is more loving than a mother for her infant child.  And so, just as much as no mother, who is in her right mind, would purposely abandon her infant child, so, too, God has not abandoned them.  And just to be sure that the people understand this, God inspires Isaiah to assure them even beyond this example.  He says, “Even if [a mother] forget [her child]”, in other words, “even if something so abhorrent and so unthinkable would happen, thus creating some doubt in your hearts, do not doubt because” “[God] will never forget you”.

          Time and again, my brothers and sisters, God has proven the truth of these words that he spoke through the prophet Isaiah and that Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount.  Even for the martyrs, whom it seemed God had abandoned so completely that their enemies would have the opportunity to put them to death, he supplied faith and courage, that which they most needed in that time of trial.  Just think of the Coptic Christians murdered in Egypt a couple of years ago.  These men were “seeking the kingdom of God first and his righteousness” and God provided them with faith and courage so that they would be steadfast even when all (in this world, at least) seemed lost to them.  Because of this, they have gained everything, as they now enjoy eternal rest in God’s kingdom: that very thing for which they fervently sought.

          Or, perhaps, a less-bloody image would be the story of George Muller, a man who ran an orphanage and homeless shelter completely on prayer.  George never asked for funds.  Rather, he set himself to work for God’s kingdom by engaging these works of mercy and trusted that God would provide the rest.  On several occasions, it was almost time for dinner and there was no food nor any money to buy food.  George would not worry; rather, he would simply pray and trust that God would provide.  Every time, without fail, someone would come to the house with food.  God never failed to meet his needs, because he did not fail to seek God’s kingdom first and his righteousness.  My brothers and sisters, God will not fail to do the same for us, if we are truly serving him.

          Therefore, we must look at our lives and ask: “What do my daily actions reveal about who I am serving?”  None of us, I'm sure, will find that we are perfectly ordered to seeking God first and his kingdom.  Thus, this message comes to us at a perfect time.  This is because Lent begins this week and it is the opportunity, through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, to turn away from serving the world (and about worrying about the material needs of our bodies) and turn to serve God and to be stewards of the mysteries of God entrusted to us.  In other words, it is the opportunity to look more like Christians once again.

          Perhaps, for some of you, this has to do with chocolate or sugary drinks; and if so then fine: commit yourself to turn away from those things and back to God.  But if we're honest with ourselves, it usually has to do with something deeper: that is, a deeper seeded tendency not to trust in God.  Perhaps an example: instead of using Sunday as a day to finish up extra chores or run errands (like cleaning the house, mowing the yard, or going grocery shopping), why not honor it for what it is—a day of rest to worship the Lord and to spend time in communion with others: either family, or close friends and relatives.  Leaving off those "works" is an act of trust that the Lord will help you to take care of them when the time is right.  At the same time, you will be "seeking the kingdom of God first and his righteousness", an act, Jesus assures us, that God will not fail to reward.  Besides, it's the day of the Resurrection!  What more of our own making could we add to this day to make it even better than it is?  If you don't see that the answer to this question is “nothing”, then you DO have a lot of work to do this Lent!

          And so, let's fast from worry, this Lent, and take on greater trust—while helping others to do so, too—and what we will come to see is that which our faith tells us to be true: that only God is truly faithful, and that trusting in the world or our own capacities will only leave us disappointed.  Thus surprised by grace (as we will be), we will have a stronger faith; and we will be witnesses to God's faithfulness everywhere.  Further still, we will make ourselves ready to receive even greater things on the final day, when the reward prepared for those who have been faithful is made fully known: the reward of perfect communion that we experience here under sacramental signs in this Holy Eucharist.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – February 25^th& 26^th, 2017

The race to Jesus' coming

Homily: 1^st Sunday of Advent – Cycle C

          Racing, in any form, requires not only speed and stamina, but also intelligence and good timing.  Every competitive race has a defined distance or time which the racers use to plan how they are going to run the race so as to finish in front of everyone else.  While each individual racer’s strategy might differ (some will go strong out of the gate to build a lead, others will hold back to save energy for the final push), the goal, of course, is the same: to win the race by being up front at the end.

          Some of the most exciting races happen when the race seems to be dominated by one racer who is then overcome by a racer who didn’t seem to have the right stuff to win until the end.  Horse racing is famous for this, am I right?  Arguably the most famous horse race in America is the Kentucky Derby; and the most famous horse to race the Kentucky Derby is Secretariat.  Why is Secretariat the most famous?  Because in 1973 he made an incredible come-from-behind victory in the Kentucky Derby and set the record for the fastest time ever in the Derby, a record which still stands today.

          Imagine, however, if, as the racers approached the finish line, the organizers said “Keep going, we decided to extend the race” or if, only halfway through the race, they said “Surprise!  The race ends here!”  In other words, imagine if there was a race in which the distance or time was not defined.  That would change everyone’s strategy, wouldn’t it?  Basically, you would have to do everything in your power to get to the front and stay up front, so that when the arbitrary end of the race was announced, you’d have a shot at being the winner.  And it doesn’t sound like a very fun or exciting race either, does it?

          Yet, in our Gospel reading today, as we open the new liturgical year this first Sunday of Advent, Jesus is basically telling us that this is what we are doing: running a race in which we do not know when or where the end will occur.  First he describes what the end will look like: signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars… roaring of the seas and its waves.  Then he exhorts his disciples: “People and nations will be in dismay, thinking it the end of the world (because that’s what it will be).  But it should not be so with you!  Be ready!  You won’t know when that day will come, so don’t get caught taking a rest or, worse yet, running a different, worldly race altogether!”  The implication he is making is this: It doesn’t matter how well you had been running the race; if you aren’t ready when the end of the race comes, you’ll lose.  And so he warns them: “Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy…”

          Yet, if we take a look at our lives, perhaps we’ll see that our hearts, indeed, have become drowsy “from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life.”  Just take a look at the madness that happens in the “black Friday” sales.  Anyone who tackles another person to get a discounted TV has lost every sense that life is a journey towards something beyond this world.  These are the ones who will be caught off-guard on the day that the Lord comes, because their love is for this world, and not for the Lord of the world.  These will be the ones who will be filled with dismay on the day that the Lord comes.

          This, of course, is nothing new.  Saint Cyprian, a 3^rd century bishop in North Africa, warned his people about this same thing.  In one of his sermons, he said:

“How unreasonable it is to pray that God’s will be done, and then not promptly to obey it when he calls us from this world!  Instead we struggle and resist like self-willed slaves and are brought into the Lord’s presence with sorrow and lamentation, not freely consenting to our departure, but constrained by necessity.  And yet we expect to be rewarded with heavenly honors by him to who we come against our will!  Why then do we pray for the kingdom of heaven to come if this earthly bondage pleases us?  What is the point of praying so often for its early arrival if we would rather serve the devil here than reign with Christ?”

What he is speaking about is how we allow our affection for the Lord to be extinguished by giving our affection to the things of this world; so much so that when the Lord calls us to him, we go only kicking and screaming, not realizing that this (going to the Lord) was what we should have been longing for all along.  Then, facing the Lord, we will sheepishly plead for the winner’s prize, even though we gave up on the race.

          It is because of this that the Church gives us this season of Advent.  It is a season meant to help “wake-up” our hearts and remind us of the goal of our running in the race: to be ready for the coming of Jesus—both the celebration of his first coming, but also his imminent second coming.  Although not specifically prescribed by the Church, we should consider Advent to be a time of sacrifices, in which we detach ourselves from the things of this world so that we are not dismayed when the signs appear in the sun, the moon, and the stars; but rather stand erect with our heads raised because our redemption will be at hand.

          It’s touching, isn’t it, when we see those images of service men and women returning home and seeing their families for the first time in a long time.  Whether it is in an airport, a bus station, or in front of their home, the sense of anticipation is tangible as you watch the family members looking eagerly ahead, waiting to see their loved one.  And when they do, the run towards them and embrace them with abandon; for the one that they longed for has returned to them.  They remained steady in the race until the day, perhaps unknown to them, that the race ended and so they received the hoped-for reward.  The question that Advent puts before each of us is, “Am I ready to do the same when Jesus comes again?”

          My brothers and sisters, Advent is our time to get ready for that day, so that we are not drawn, kicking and screaming, before the Lord: sad because of what we must leave behind in order to receive the infinite joys that God wants to give us.  To do this we must pray; for in prayer we come to know and, thus, to love the Lord more deeply (and it is love that will send us running toward him on the day of his coming).  We must also fast; for in fasting we detach ourselves from the things of this world, so that there will be nothing holding us back when he comes.  And we must give alms; for nothing demonstrates our detachment from the things of this world then when we freely give of them to those in need.  (Sound a lot like Lent, doesn’t it?...)

          Friends, the saddest come-from-behind stories are the ones that never happen.  If you have become drowsy on this race towards the day of Jesus’ coming, then please take this opportunity to wake-up and start running again.  The Eucharist—Jesus’ ongoing presence with us—is the life-giving bread that gives us strength to keep us running.  May our communion with him propel us forward to the day of redemption, when he will come again to bring us home.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – November 28^th & 29^th, 2015

Be cold and weary and hungry...

          Lent invites us to share the experience of Jesus in the desert.  Be brave.  Go into the desert of this Lenten season and you'll know the true joy of celebrating Easter.

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Homily: 1^st Sunday of Lent – Cycle B

          Two weeks ago I was off making my canonical retreat (that is, my retreat that is required by canon law) down at Saint Meinrad, where I went to seminary.  It was good to be back down there as I was able to connect with a lot of the seminary staff and the monks whom I knew when I was a seminarian.  It was also good because I was able to spend time doing some hiking around the area, which was one of my favorite activities during my time there.

          Saint Meinrad is located in a very rural setting in southern Indiana, which is actually much more wooded and hilly than here in the “northern plains”.  Thus, a hike down any of the back roads around the seminary will provide you with a lot of solitude along with a challenging hike.  Long Johnnytown Road was one of my favorite roads to take and so I made it a point to hike that road once again.  The day that I went out the weather was less than favorable.  It had turned quite cold and the wind was blowing hard from the northwest.  Thankfully, the road is surrounded by woods, for the most part, and so, except for a few stretches of road, I didn’t have to face the wind.  It is a tough road to hike under any conditions, but that day’s conditions made it a degree or two more difficult (perhaps even more so because I’ve been living here in the flatlands for so long now).   It was so tough, in fact, that at times I wondered whether or not I was going to make it back.  I did of course and, although I was tired, I felt refreshed for having made it.  As I read and reflected on today’s Gospel reading, Jesus’ experience of being in the desert reminded me of this.

          In the Gospel we heard how Jesus was driven into the desert and that he remained there for forty days where he was tempted by Satan and dwelt among the wild beasts while angels, nonetheless, ministered to him.  As it is for us today, the desert is a harsh place: a place of solitude in which you are exposed to extreme conditions.  Jesus was driven into the harsh physical conditions of the desert and had to face harsh spiritual and emotional conditions as well: the temptations of Satan and the fear of being attacked by a wild animal.  Nonetheless, he went willingly, driven by the Spirit who had just anointed him after his baptism in the Jordan River.  He emerged from that time of testing more deeply conscious of the truth about himself and his mission.  We see this because the next thing that the Gospel tells us is that Jesus began his mission of preaching; literally taking up where John the Baptist left off by proclaiming “The kingdom of God is at hand.  Repent and believe in the gospel.”

          Lent, for us, is meant to mimic this desert experience of Jesus.  It calls us to leave off what we are comfortable with and to be “driven into the desert”, so to speak—the solitude inside of ourselves—in order to confront the demons and wild beasts within us—which are our sinful inclinations and untamed passions—so as to emerge more deeply conscious of the truth about ourselves and our mission.  And what is this, but a call to prayer: a call to confront the truth about ourselves before God and to allow him to show us the deeper truth of who we are in Him.

          Because we are bodily creatures, however, this “desert experience” must also include a physical aspect.  Thus, we create a physical “desert” for ourselves by fasting: by giving up certain comforts and pleasures so as to create the conditions in which we might confront our sinful inclinations and untamed passions more readily.  Ironically, all of this introspection is meant to lead us outside of ourselves: to encounter the real suffering of our brothers and sisters around us—our neighbors—and to work to relieve their suffering through the means that have been given to us.  Through almsgiving we enact our mission to proclaim that the kingdom of God is at hand, the kingdom in which the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.  Thus almsgiving, in a way, becomes the fruit of our Lenten desert experience.

          The American poet, Henry David Thoreau once advised “Take long walks in stormy weather or through deep snow in the fields and woods, if you would keep your spirits up.  Deal with brute nature.  Be cold and hungry and weary.”  I believe that this quote speaks to something very true: life is difficult and if we try to mask that fact by filling our lives with comforts and distractions then we’ll never truly live.  After that hike I took while on retreat I was “cold and hungry and weary”, but refreshed for having done it.  I dealt with “brute nature”, which caused me to confront some of the demons within myself, and I emerged with a spirit more deeply aware of the truth about myself and of the mission that I have been given.

          My brothers and sisters, Lent invites us to face the reality of ourselves—with all of its demons and wild beasts—as well as the truth of who we are—children of God and coheirs with Christ to His Kingdom—so as to renew us in baptismal faith that we might go forth to proclaim the greatest of all truths with renewed vigor: that Jesus Christ is risen and that the kingdom of God is truly at hand!  Therefore, let us not be afraid to go into the deserts within ourselves to confront the demons of our sinful inclinations and the wild beasts of our untamed passions; and there to call on the angels to minister to us; and let us not be afraid to then go out into the deserts in our community to encounter the marginalized: those who we are afraid to meet because of what they might demand of us.  For there, in these encounters, the truth about ourselves will become known and our mission will become clear.  Then, having done this, we will emerge to experience once again (or perhaps for the first time) the true joy that Easter brings: the joy that even now we are invited to experience here, in this Eucharist.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – February 21^st & 2^nd, 2015

It's not really about the fruit...

           I've decided to take a little more direct approach to preaching in Lent.  I realize that we need someone to name those things that have blinded us to the reality of sin in our lives (and what is sin but something that puts a barrier between us and God?).  I received a lot more positive feedback about this homily than I expected (and it wasn't from the "usual suspects" either).  I praise the Spirit that he used me to be an instrument of grace to others.  I'm certain that the Spirit has something to say to you, too.

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Homily: 1^st Sunday of Lent – Cycle A

          Well, you’ve already done it, haven’t you?  On Wednesday, it wasn’t so hard to walk past that jar of candy in the kitchen, but Thursday it wasn’t so easy, was it?  Or perhaps a co-worker brought in donuts to celebrate his birthday on Friday.  Or maybe it was that beer or glass of wine that you shared with a friend at dinner on Saturday.  I mean, Jesus himself said that “when you are fasting, don’t make a show of it”, didn’t he?  You certainly didn’t want to brag about what you were giving up during Lent so you decided to give in—just that one time—so as not to reveal what it was that you had given up.  How very noble…

          The enemy certainly doesn’t have to work very hard, does he?  He knows that within one of our greatest powers lies one of our greatest weaknesses.  Our ability to reason—that is, to think things out—is the uniquely human characteristic that makes us most like God.  It allows us to order, to create, and to exploit the characteristics of just about anything else in creation for our own use.  It also allows us to convince ourselves of just about anything if we think about it long enough.  This is the weakness that the enemy strives to exploit.  He knows that very often all he needs to do is to suggest something to us and that then, left to our own devices, it won’t be long before we’ve talked ourselves into doing it.

          Just look at Eve (poor thing, she didn’t even know what was coming).  She knew well the abundance that God had blessed her with and the instructions that God had given her.  The serpent (cunning as he was) came and simply suggested a lie, veiled in truth.  “You certainly won’t die”, he said.  “No, God knows that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods who know what is good and what is evil.”  All true… to a point.  That was all Eve needed, it seems, to get her powers of rationalization going.  “[She] saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom.”  All very true and, thus, by all perceptions there was absolutely nothing about those fruits that would make them harmful to eat it… except that God had forbidden it.

          “So she took some of its fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her (by the way, what was he doing all this time?), and he ate it.”  And what do you know; everything that that cunning serpent said was true!  They didn’t die (at least, not immediately) and they did come to know what is good and what is evil (notice how they immediately recognized that they were naked: in other words, they felt shame; demonstrating that they did have knowledge of what was good and what was evil).  No, what the serpent said was true… except that it veiled a lie.  As it turns out, they would die; even though it wouldn’t be immediately.  And they were already like gods, because God has given them the power to reason.  Was the act of eating the fruit sinful in itself?  No.  Rather, their sin was that they chose to trust their own reason instead of the providential will of God.

          Contrast that now with Jesus.  After forty days of fasting in the desert, he’s hungry (which, in biblical terms, means that he’s weak: physically, mentally, spiritually) and the devil comes to tempt him.  And tempt him to do what?  To deny his humanity and to assert his divinity.  The devil knew that if Jesus denied his humanity and allowed his divinity to override it that his life would be useless to save us—for Jesus had to be completely obedient to the Father’s will using his human will alone in order to counteract the disobedience of our first parents—and so he tempts Jesus three times to manifest his divinity over his humanity.

          In each of those three temptations, what did Jesus do?  Did he try to reason his way into or out of them?  I mean, did he look at those stones and say, “Gee, it really would be good if I ate something.  I mean, my Father certainly doesn’t want me to die of starvation, does he?”  Or did he say “I better jump so as to prove to this devil that my Father’s promises are true”?  Or how about, “You know, if I was master of all of these kingdoms I could make sure that there was peace over the whole world; and that would be good, wouldn’t it?”  No, he didn’t say any of those things.  Rather, he chose to trust his Father’s will instead of his own reason and thus he overcame the tempter.  (Oh, and by the way, what was the result?  As soon as the devil left him, angels came to his aid, anyway!)

          My brothers and sisters, in our efforts to fulfill the good work that we’ve laid out before us—that is, our prayer, fasting and giving alms this Lent—how do we fight off the temptations that come to us daily, trying to thwart our efforts?  Do we try to rationalize our way into giving in, convincing ourselves that it’s “ok” to bend our rules?  Or do we rely, instead, on God’s Word to us and Jesus’ example for us: the promise that if we remain faithful to him that he will provide for all of our needs?  God has breathed the breath of eternal life into us at baptism and has placed us in the garden which is his Church.  The fruits of the garden are the sacraments—most prominent among them, the Eucharist—and we are free to feed from this abundance as long as we obey God by remaining faithful to his commandments.

          Yet, we’d rather be like gods, wouldn’t we; rationalizing our sins so much so that we’ve completely lost the one thing that we gained through sinning: our ability to know what is good and what is evil?  My brothers and sisters, we must regain a balanced, yet strong compunction for our sins (many of our not-as-young parishioners will “light-up” to hear that word being used in church again, but it is exactly what we need to hear).  To do this, we must first regain our sense that God is truly near to us; that he’s not some “divine watch-maker” who put the world together and wound it up and now sits back to watch it work, but rather that he is intimately involved with his creation and wants to lead and guide us along the way.

          With this sense of God’s intimacy with us, we’ll deepen our friendship with him.  And as our friendship deepens, so will our sense of compunction for any act that offends him.  Just as any of us would feel horrible for doing something that deeply offended a good friend, so will we feel horrible when we realize that we’ve offended God when we rationalize our way into giving in to temptations.  This kind of friendship doesn’t happen overnight, however.  It takes time.

          And in order to make time for God, we’re going to have to slow down our lives a little.  We’re going to have to fast from some of those things that we enjoy doing so that we can have time to be with God in prayer—both as individuals and as families—and to see him in need in our brothers and sisters.  And we’re going to have to come clean with him in confession (and trust me all of us have something that we need to come clean about with God).

          And when we do, my brothers and sisters, we’ll begin to see the power of God working in us to overcome our temptations: that is, the power of the love that we have for God which leads us to despise any temptation to choose ourselves over him.  With this power working within us, we will truly glory in celebration of the Lord’s resurrection on Easter Sunday: the joy of which we taste even now, here at this table.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – March 9^th, 2014

Remember... just let go

Happy First Sunday of Lent!  I hope that everybody's Lent has gotten off to a good start.  This last week felt weird to me, but probably because of all the chaos (in my mind) of getting ready for Ash Wednesday and the start of this holy season.

Saturday night, I was able to participate in the Destination Jesus retreat (our diocesan youth retreat) and finally was able to hear some of the incredible ways that God works on the hearts of these young people during this retreat as I heard confessions.  We need to pray for and support our youth!  What a great blessing to be a small part of that experience.

This coming week, I'm heading back "home" to Saint Meinrad for their 'baby-priest' workshop.  Basically, it's an opportunity to review how the first months of priesthood have gone and to get coaching for how to recognize problems now and head them off before they become problems for us in the future.  For me, it will be a welcome opportunity to return to the Hill and catch up with some of my classmates and other friends from the seminary.  I hope that it will also be a good opportunity to take some of these ideas that have been floating around in my head and plan for making them happen.  Stay tuned!

Enjoy the homily.  It's sunny out and I'm going for a walk outside :)

Peace.

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Homily: 1st Sunday of Lent – Cycle C

Back almost ten years ago now, when I was in the throes of my ‘reversion’ to the Catholic faith, I remember feeling very guilty.  For the first time in my life, I recognized that religion wasn’t just something that you ‘do’, but that it was about a relationship… that it was about the relationship between God and his creation: most especially, with us.  I felt guilty because I recognized that I had been ignoring that relationship.
As a result, during those first months I threw myself into prayer, fervently asking God what it was that he wanted me to do with my life.  When those prayers eventually led to the consideration of a vocation to the priesthood, I found myself at an impasse.  I had never considered the priesthood and so I didn’t know what to think about it.  “But,” I thought, “this is so radically different from anything that I’ve considered before; so, if I did it, I’m sure that I would be doing what God wanted and not what I wanted.”  I clearly remember making this prayer: “God, I’ve been living my life my own way for twenty-five years, why shouldn’t I do this for you?”
Soon, however, I learned that feeling like you owe God something is a poor reason to enter the seminary.  Thus, I put the discernment away for a while.  A few years later, when I was blindsided by the notion that I wasn’t yet doing what God wanted me to do with my life, I once again threw myself into prayer.  This time, however, I felt more fearful of damaging the relationship that I had built than guilty for having ignored it.  And so I turned to fasting in an attempt to disinterest myself from anything that could distract me from knowing God’s will.  Eventually, I heard again the call to the priesthood and this time I was sure that it was love, not guilt that motivated me, so I responded and entered the seminary.
I continued many of my habits of fasting after entering the seminary.  What I found there, however, was that my fasting was becoming a barrier: first to my relationships with my fellow seminarians, and eventually to my relationship with God.  Right fasting is the kind that turns our focus away from ourselves and back towards God and others.  I had become focused on myself and my need to maintain these fasts; and so to turn my focus back towards God and others, I actually had to learn how to “fast from fasting.”  I needed to remember the relationship, and not just the relation.  In order to do so, I needed to detach myself from trying to control it through fasting.
Remembrance and detachment are two themes that we find in our Scripture readings today.  In our first reading from the book of Deuteronomy, Moses is instructing the people about making the annual offering of the first fruits of the harvest to God.  What we hear is not the details about the offering itself (for example, how much is to be offered and when), but rather we hear what the Israelites are instructed to say after they’ve made their offering.  It is a statement meant to remind them of why they have brought their offering to the altar.
First, it’s a remembrance of where they came from.  Jacob was a small tribe of only seventy-odd persons when they went down to Egypt.  Yet God made them grow and prosper during that time.  Second, it is a remembrance of how God heard their calls for help when Pharaoh oppressed them with slavery, delivering them from Egypt with mighty signs and wonders.  Third, it is a remembrance of how God led them through the desert and into the fruitful land in which they live, the first fruits from which they have come to offer him.  In other words, it’s a remembrance that it was God who was in control the whole time and that he took care of them, and so their offering is one of thanksgiving for his grace and mercy that continues to care for them today.
In the Gospel, Jesus’ forty days in the desert produces in him a deep sense of detachment.  In the greatest understatement of all time, the Gospel tells us that, after forty days of not eating, Jesus emerged from the desert and that “he was hungry.”  Duh!  Actually, what the author might have been emphasizing was that he was “weak with hunger.”  The devil seeing this probably thought to himself, “Now is my chance!” and so he tempts him.  Jesus, having detached himself not only from his desires for food and drink, but also from his instincts for survival, and having placed all his trust for survival in his Father, was not fazed by the devil’s temptations.  Jesus knew that his Father was in control, because he had just experienced it for forty days; thus, he could not be moved to betray him now, even though he was physically weak from lack of nourishment.  His fasting produced detachment and thus solidified his relationship with his Father, who cared for him.
“Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  This, my brothers and sisters, is our task during Lent: to remember our right relationship with God and with others.  We do this primarily through the three Lenten disciplines of fasting, prayer, and almsgiving.  Fasting, I would argue, is primary: for when we fast, we remind ourselves of the punishment due to us because of our sins and thus acknowledge that God is God and we are not.  Fasting also has the effect of detaching ourselves from our disordered desires for the things of this world: desires that place a barrier between us and God, as well as those around us.  A natural result of this detachment is that we are more available for prayer and have more resources to share with others who are in need, thus facilitating our prayer and almsgiving.  Finally, fasting helps us to remember to place our trust in the fact that God is in control and that he cares for us and so will provide to us whatever it is that we truly need.
And so, my brothers and sisters, on this first Sunday of Lent, let’s take a look at what we are doing this Lent in order to see where our disciplines are pointing us and let’s ask ourselves these questions: Are our disciplines motivated by guilt and the hope that God will pleased with them and so not ask too much of us?  Or are our disciplines about conversion: that is, about letting go of our control and turning back to God, remembering that his care alone is enough for us?
If you find yourself (as I often do) more in the first group than in the second group, don’t worry.  We still have about 36 days left to work it all out (which is plenty of time!).  And what a good work that it is.  I promise you that if you do it well, on Easter Sunday you will have forgotten that you are hungry, because you will have remembered God’s love and mercy as you celebrate his glory.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – February, 17th, 2013

Las cosas que nunca se dicen católicos

Time to break out your translating skills!  I preached in English this morning, but I didn't have anything written down.  That wasn't going to fly so much for Spanish, so I wrote it out.  Thus, all you get is my homily in Spanish for el miercoles de las cenizas.  Disfruta!

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Homilía: Miércoles de las Cenizas – Ciclo C

¡Gracias a Dios que está Cuaresma! ¡Ahora tengo una excusa para no comer dulces!  (El Domingo de Pascua) ¡Ojalá que la Cuaresma podría ser de dos semanas más!  ¡Me gustaría que pudiéramos recibir las cenizas cada día para que la gente se fijara en mí más!  Estas son declaraciones que planeo en incluir en mi primero libro titulado "Las cosas que nunca se dicen católicos".

Aquí estamos de nuevo en el comienzo de otra temporada de Cuaresma. Si eres un buen católico, ya ha comprometido a renunciar a algo. Si eres un muy buen católico, te has comprometido a renunciar a algo que sea difícil para dejar. Pero, si tú ya has pensado a sí mismo "No puedo esperar hasta la Pascua para que pueda tener esa cosa de nuevo", ya has fracasado en lograr el objetivo de la Cuaresma.

Esto es porque la Cuaresma no se trata de torturar a nosotros mismos durante cuarenta días para ver si podemos aguantar a pesar de todo sólo para volver a ser lo mismo una vez que llega Pascua.  Ciertamente, esto podría hacer que nos sintamos bien con nosotros mismos, pero se pierde el punto.  En ese caso, todo lo que estamos tratando de hacer es para impresionar a Dios con nuestros sacrificios; y déjeme decirles que nuestros sacrificios no le impresionan mucho.  El único que alguna vez le impresionó fue el sacrificio de su Hijo en la cruz.  Esto es decir que el no necesita nuestros sacrificios; sino que somos nosotros los que necesitamos para hacerlos.

En la lectura del profeta Joel, Dios nos llama a "rasgar nuestros corazones y no las vestiduras". Lo que quiere decir que no debemos hacer un espectáculo de nuestra contrición. Y en el Evangelio, Jesús nos dice que "cuando ayunamos, no debe parecer que estás ayunando, sino como si estamos sanos y bien alimentados", y que "cuando damos limosna la mano derecha no debe saber lo que la mano izquierda está haciendo", y que "cuando oramos, debemos ir a un lugar privado", ya que sólo el Padre quien debe saber lo que estamos haciendo.  Lo que esto significa para nosotros es que la Cuaresma no se trata de quién puede hacer estas cosas (la oración, el ayuno y la limosna) mejor que nadie, o sobre lo que podemos demostrar a Dios por nuestras acciones extremas, pero es más bien acerca de la eliminación de obstáculos entre nosotros y Dios.

Ya ves, nuestros pecados nos han vinculado al mundo, poniendo una barrera entre nosotros y Dios. Cuaresma, por lo tanto, es un momento especial que nos llama a arrepentirnos de nuestros pecados y desvincularnos de las cosas de este mundo por medio del ayuno, oración y limosna.  Por lo tanto, comenzamos por renunciar a algo que ponemos demasiado valor en, algo que se interpone entre nosotros y Dios.  Entonces comenzamos a orar más profundamente, porque empezamos a ver a Dios con más claridad.  Por último, nos sentimos impulsados a compartir con los demás, porque hemos aprendido que no necesitamos todo lo que tenemos para ser felices: que nuestra comunión con Dios y con los demás es suficiente.

Por lo tanto, nuestro objetivo para la Cuaresma no es tanto la "perseverancia" en nuestras disciplinas de Cuaresma como es "desprendimiento" de las cosas que nos separan de Dios. Si lo hacemos bien, no vamos tanto “respirar un suspiro de alivio” el domingo de Pascua que nuestro tiempo de penitencia ha terminado como vamos a gritar de alegría en la celebración de lo que Cristo ha hecho por nosotros.

Dado en la parroquia Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

23º de febrero, 2013 – Miércoles de las Cenizas

The Race is On!

One of the things that hit me as I began the new semester last week was that it is only three months before the Race for Vocations MiniMarathon in Indianapolis! Needless to say, having spent most of January travelling (without running gear), I found it quite urgent that I get started on my training program right away.

It has taken a little over a week to get myself "broken in" again to running, but now I am ready to start training in earnest. The MiniMarathon website has a good training program laid out (I'm behind on it, but am catching up), and I am going to try and follow that as best I can. More importantly, however, is the real reason why I am doing this anyway: to pray for holy vocations to the priesthood, religious life, marriage and single vocations. I'll admit, in my earnest, I forgot to offer my first couple of training runs for vocations, but now I am remembering to do it on each run. I'm even offering when I run as a prayer. For example, last night I was not sure when I would have time to run, but I prayed that God would make time for me. When I woke up before my alarm this morning, I remembered my prayer and thought, "I'll bet I have time to run." Sure enough, it was 5:30, a half hour before my alarm would go off at 6:00 and I had a 30 minute training run to make today. So I got up, got dressed and did my run, offering it for those who are searching for their vocation.

I need more help! If you are reading this and feel called to do so, you can "pledge" to pray along with me as I train. This could be anything from an extra Our Father or Hail Mary for each training run I make to a Rosary or Chaplet of Divine Mercy. Perhaps you could offer to give something up (a fast or abstinence, like a cup of coffee or a dessert) on the days that I train. For those ready to go the extra mile (pun intended), you could offer to match, minute for minute, the amount of time that I spend training in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, praying for vocations. The best part is that you will be doing something great for yourself while you are doing something great for someone else! That's how good God is!

Those who are interested in pledging prayers for vocations in conjunction with my training, send me an e-mail and I will keep you up to date on what my training schedule looks like week-to-week, so you can keep your prayers in line with my training.

(Perhaps even right now God is nudging you to step up and run, yourself. Don't be shy! Click here and find out how you, too, can join the Race for Vocations!)

Thanks in advance to all who will pledge their support. Verso l'Alto!

Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, pray for us!

Help for Haiti

Hopefully we are all painfully aware of the situation in Haiti. I don't intend to spend much time talking about this because it is getting an incredible amount of coverage, as it should. I have just a few thoughts and then I will mention some things that I believe we all can commit to doing right now and in the long run to help our desperate brothers and sisters in Haiti.

Having made two trips there with teams from my parish in Carmel I did not need to see pictures or even to hear reports about the destruction caused by the earthquake. I have seen firsthand how the buildings in Haiti were built and I was immediately certain that most of them wouldn't have withstood the forces of the earthquake. This is not to say anything against the Haitian people. They built with the best that they had as best as they could - buildings that have withstood hurricanes - but it wasn't enough to withstand an earthquake of that magnitude. As images started to come in and I laid eyes on the reality of the devastation, my heart broke.

The Church in Haiti was far from immune from the devastation. The Archbishop of Port Au Prince was killed and the cathedral along with the seminary was destroyed. It is unknown how many seminarians were in the seminary, but it is feared that they and the staff of priests and religious are also lost. As a seminarian, to think about the impact that losing most if not all of the country's seminarians will have on the Church in Haiti and its future is overwhelming, to say the least. And this is only a part of the total story.

The initial response is necessarily so massive that only people at the highest levels of major governments can possibly coordinate any effort to quickly and effectively help the survivors. Nevertheless, here are three things that I think that we all can do right now and well into the future to help the Haitian people.

1. Pray. Let us be relentless in our prayer. Prayer is keeping survivors still buried under the rubble alive and giving strength to those who have already spent days searching for and digging them out. It is consoling grieving survivors and their loved ones around the world. The people of Haiti need our prayers now more than ever and it is something that is well within our capability to do and to do abundantly.

2. Donate. Obviously, the humanitarian need is massive right now. It's almost incomprehensible. The best thing that we can do is to make sure they never have less supplies than they know how to distribute. I personally have made my initial contribution to Catholic Relief Services. They are big enough to take part in a job of this magnitude, they have a history of presence in Haiti and will continue to have a presence in Haiti indefinitely. You can go to http://www.crs.org/ to donate. There are many more organizations out there that have similar resources to CRS, however, and so if you have not found one already and made a donation, please find one soon and donate.

3. Fast. This is a combination of the two, in a way. The Haitian people are in desperate need and it is going to require some sacrificial giving on our part to help them rebuild their lives, not just materially, but emotionally and spiritually as well. I invite you to pray and to ask God what you can sacrifice in your own life in order to help the people of Haiti rebuild their lives, materially, emotionally, and spiritually. God will definitely answer that prayer. With humility and courage we can all make a difference for the people of Haiti today and in the future.

It is in our darkest moments that God's power manifests itself most strongly to break through with His light. He is calling each of us to respond. May we have hearts full of charity to hear and respond to His call.