The wedding banquet is prepared and you're invited!

Homily: 28^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

          Friends, in this reading that we have just heard, Jesus is once again using a parable to demonstrate an important point; and we remember that these parables are really allegories: symbolic stories using familiar images to reveal a hidden reality.  In this particular allegory, Jesus is attempting to teach the Jewish religious elite that they are about to lose the favor they had with God because of their failure to respond to his call.  Let’s take a closer look at this parable.

          The king who prepares the wedding feast is obviously God and his son is obviously Jesus, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity: God’s “only begotten Son”.  The wedding feast is obviously the banquet of the Eucharist (although the Jewish religious elite of the time would not have known that as we know it: they would have only thought of a great, continual feast that would be celebrated when the Messiah would come and conquer all of their enemies; still they would have understood the wedding feast/banquet imagery).  The invited guests are God’s chosen people, the descendants of the ancient Israelites: the Jews.  The king’s servants who go to call the invited guests are the prophets; and the “bad and the good” who were then invited in the place of God’s chosen people are the Gentiles: that is, the people of all the nations that weren’t part of the ancient Israelite ancestry.

          The parable, of course, is a warning to the Jewish religious elite that their pride in their religious authority, which led them to ignore, at best, and mistreat, at worst, God’s prophets, would soon be their downfall.  Not only would their enemies come and destroy them and burn their city (which really happened, by the way, in 70 AD when the Romans sacked Jerusalem), but their status as a chosen people would no longer be exclusive; rather, it would be extended to the Gentiles: peoples who would gratefully receive it.

          While it certainly would be easy for us to sit back after hearing this parable again and say “Haha, those guys sure messed up didn’t they?” I think that it would be foolish for us not to take it as a warning for ourselves, here and now.  Yes, we, who are sitting here, are the “Church of the Gentiles”, who are the beneficiaries of the complacency of the ancient Jews, but I wonder if we haven’t become complacent, ourselves.  One of the most disturbing statistics about Catholics in recent years has been that less than 25% of those who declare themselves Catholic attend Mass on a regular basis.  Notice that we’re not talking about all baptized Catholics, because many baptized Catholics no longer declare themselves to be Catholic.  Rather we’re talking about those who still consider themselves to be Catholic and that 75% of these persons are so complacent about what it means to be Catholic that they no longer consider it a necessary part of their Catholicism to attend Mass.  Not to mention the fact that many Catholics who do attend Mass with some regularity feel little remorse for having missed Mass on any given occasion (I sit in that confessional, so I know).  Couple this with the fact that I’ve already discussed—that the wedding feast described in Jesus’ parable is an image of the Eucharist that we, as Catholics—the Gentile Church—celebrate—and all of a sudden this parable looks like it might be aimed squarely at us.

          My friends, the Eucharist—the wedding feast that God, our king, has prepared for his Son, Jesus, and to which we have been invited—is the greatest and most generous gift God has (and will) ever offer to us.  It is both the source of our entire Christian life (that is, the “spring of living water” from which all Christianity flows) and it is its summit of that life (that is, the end to which all Christianity leads).  To deny this is to deny the Christian faith.  And, thus, to disregard the Eucharist as something “disposable” in the Christian faith is to offend God at the level that the king in Jesus’ parable was offended when his invited guests all greatly disrespected his son by finding excuses for not attending his wedding feast.  Please tell me, who among you would not exclude from your friendship a so-called “friend” who offended you in such a great way?

          My brothers and sisters, if we, in any way, hold this attitude (that is, that the Eucharist is a “disposable” part of our faith), then we must purge that idea from our minds and our hearts we must and ask God for the grace to receive this gift of the Eucharist as the most precious gift we have ever received in our lives.  And if we know someone—especially someone who still considers themselves to be Catholic—who has so discarded this gift that he / she doesn’t attend Mass, then we must find ways to express to that person what a great gift the Eucharist is, and, thus, invite them back to this source and summit of their Christian faith.  And why?  So that God does not decide to treat us like he treated those ancient Jews and turn from us in order to invite those who will truly be grateful for the gift he is offering.

          My friends, if we need any evidence that the Eucharist is the greatest gift that God has (and will) ever offer to us, we should look no further than to those who have converted to the faith.  While the desire for the Eucharist may not have been the thing that brought them to the Church, I have found that, once they understand it, it becomes the thing that keeps them in the Church.  They are signs to us that God continues to “send his servants out into the streets” to invite the “Gentiles” and reminders to us that God will not tolerate our complacency when it comes to his generosity.  Therefore, as we welcome our sister Patty to share in this Great Wedding Feast for the first time, let us renew in our own hearts our gratitude for being among the invited so that we might give worthy thanks to God, our Father: both here in this Mass and by our lives of faithful discipleship in the world.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – October 15^th, 2017

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: 2^nd 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 3^rd and 4^th, 2016

The long and the short of it...

          Thanks for all of the prayers and support during our trip to Haiti.  Everything was safe and we had a great experience.  I'm sure that our efforts to go (and Fr. Eugene's efforts to host us) will bear much fruit in the future.

          Please pray for them this weekend especially as a they are set to have a very contentious general election.  Pray that it is safe and fair!

Blessings on your week!

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Homily: 2^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

          As you all know, I was in Haiti last week with two other parishioners visiting our sister parish of Our Lady of the Nativity in Terre Neuve.  We had a great trip and I attribute that to your prayers supporting us every step of the way, so thank you for your prayers.  Fr. Eugene sends his regards to everyone here and assures us that he, along with his parishioners, prays for us often.  I would like to share with you a little of what we saw on the trip and perhaps what it means for us in the light of our celebration here today.

          Of course, the situation in Haiti (and, specifically, in Terre Nueve) is still far from great.  Nonetheless, there does seem to be some improvement.  Scott Starr had been on multiple trips previous to this one and he immediately thought that things looked better in Terre Neuve than before.  My own observations seemed to reflect that sentiment: most of the kids seem to have decent clothes on, very few people made signal at us that they were hungry and needed help, and some of the roads, previously unpaved, had been paved very nicely.

          Even so, there is still plenty of work to do.  The school that we helped to build in the village of Lagon is nearly finished (they are already using it as they continue the finishing touches).  The chapel/school in Simon, however, is a temporary shack consisting of a wood frame, corrugated metal roof, and braided palm branch panels and tarps as walls.  It is the most primitive of the chapels/schools yet it boasts one of the highest student enrollment numbers.  Back in Lagon, their water supply went dry some time ago.  And so they have to walk one hour to the next village to get water.  Multiple (expensive) attempts to drill a well were unsuccessful in finding water.  The books at all the schools are old, being replaced only when absolutely necessary.  Many are still living in dirt floor homes and cooking over charcoal fires (inside the homes) with little ventilation.  Their roads are impassible except for motorbikes and the toughest trucks, or on donkey or on foot.  Still, the people are a proud people (in a good way) and they are (for the most part) determined to make what little they have work for them.  This situation, I would argue, in which there is much that they lack, is a prime situation for them to discover Jesus.

          It’s a truth of human nature that, if you don't feel your need—that is, if you don’t recognize that you are missing something—then you won't be able to tell that your need has been fulfilled.  These folks in Haiti have a lot of needs—needs that they can't necessarily fulfill on their own—and so already they look instinctually for another who can help them fulfill their needs.  This, in a very real way, is the true state of fallen Man: One who lacks something fundamental, but does not have the means to recover it.  Thus, the field in Haiti is fertile for the Gospel to be planted: the Gospel that says, “Do not be concerned about what you lack today; your Father in heaven knows all of your needs and he is holding you in the palm of his hand.”  The Gospel that proclaims that God sent His Son Jesus to restore us to His friendship so that now, if we remain in Him, He will remain in us and will provide us with our needs until the day that he brings the fulfillment of our restoration and all that we once lacked will be restored.

          This is the situation of the Gospel today.  At the wedding feast (already an eschatological image, that is, an image of the end time), the host runs out of wine.  In John's Gospel, ordinary terms always have symbolic meaning; and so running out of wine is not just an embarrassing problem for the host of the party, but rather it is a symbol of the disappearance of grace.  Bishop Robert Barron reminds us that, “wine and the intoxication that it produces are invocative of the divine life: that power which elevates both body and soul.  Therefore, to speak of wine running out is to lament the disappearance of grace—of our connection to the divine life.  The wedding guests had not yet become aware of the lack of wine and so they don't know that they need to look for another: thus, they don't yet recognize who Jesus is.  But Mary, taking on a role that is prophetic, sees the situation and, already knowing who her Son is, immediately seeks him out to plead for resolution.  (Mary, we see, is already acting as our mother.)

          Jesus' response, however, indicates what was true about the guests: "it is not yet my hour", he says, because "the people don't yet recognize that they need me".  He knew that if they didn't recognize their need, that they wouldn't recognize its fulfillment.  Mary, not presuming to know God's will, nonetheless continues to work in her prophetic role and instructs the servants: "Do whatever he tells you."  She didn't know what, if anything, he would say or do; but she wanted to be sure that the servants knew to whom they should be listening.  In the end, Jesus works the miracle for them.  But it wasn't just a continuation of what they had lost (as if no lack had ever occurred).  Rather, it was so much better than what they had (and in an abundance!).  Thus, Jesus proves that He didn't come only to bring relief from worldly suffering (that is, the lack of wine), but rather to restore man to the divine life: which is richer and more abundant than anything this life can provide.  In other words, not only is what was lacking restored, but it is surpassed in abundance.

          Unlike Haiti, we live in a land in which it can be hard to feel like anything is lacking.  Sure, there's always something out there that we'd prefer to have—a want but not a real need.  But as for our real needs, there is little that we cannot resolve by our own efforts: although many are homeless, there is nonetheless an abundance of housing; although many are hungry, there is nonetheless an abundance of food; although some wear shoddy clothing, there is an overabundance of clothing that can replace it; and clean water flows from every faucet for drinking, bathing, and cleaning.  And so, are we in danger of not recognizing Jesus because, it seems, we have everything that we need?

          Perhaps yes.  Remember that in John's Gospel wine and the intoxication that it provides are symbols of the divine life: that power which elevates both body and soul.  In this case the result of a lack of the physical (the wine) would affect the spiritual (the intoxication) and, thus, the guests would be sad: the loss of the physical leading also to a spiritual loss.  Here we have an abundance of the physical: most of which has little positive effect on the spiritual.  Thus, the danger for us is that we would chase the physical in search of the spiritual, instead of recognizing that the spiritual we seek is really the divine life: the life of grace.  Only grace, therefore—which comes to us from God through Jesus in the Holy Spirit—can provide the "intoxication" to fulfill our spiritual hunger.

          In Haiti they lack of the many modern conveniences that we enjoy.  Yet they have one thing that perhaps is their advantage over us: for they have an acute awareness that they are unable to resolve their poverty alone.  They know that they have to look to another.  Thus, they are open to the Gospel and to seeing the power of God work in their lives.  Perhaps a point of reflection for each of us in these next weeks would be to think about all of the ways in which there was a real lack in your life and you were helpless to resolve it; and to think about how God, perhaps, intervened to resolve it for you, making you turn more closely to him.  This type of exercise can keep us from focusing too much on avoiding physical discomforts and thus numbing ourselves to God's activity in our lives: God, who promises to provide for our needs.

          Another way to do this is to keep ourselves aware of the needs of others, like those of our brothers and sisters at our Sister Parish in Haiti (or those back in our home country).  By serving their physical needs (and by going to visit them!), we help support their spiritual ones.  For when we help them in their physical need, we prove to them the veracity of the Gospel—that Jesus is the Son of God who has redeemed us and thus made the divine life available to us and that we, the faithful, have access to the divine life when we are united to Him as members of His Body—and we proclaim to them what God proclaimed to his chosen people through the prophet Isaiah: "No longer shall people call you 'Forsaken,' or your land 'Desolate,' but you shall be called 'My Delight,' and your land 'Espoused.'"  This is a message that the people want to hear, and a truth that they want to realize, but it can't be so if God's chosen instruments—you and I—don't help them to realize this truth by serving their needs.  This applies both to our brothers and sisters in Haiti (or our home country) as well as to our brothers and sisters here in Cass County.

          Perhaps I can close by returning to the image of the Wedding Feast.  As Christians, we believe the Eucharist is the ultimate wedding feast: the wedding feast of the Lamb, eternally celebrated in heaven.  As we gather around this table to share in the Lamb’s sacrifice, let us be open to having our hearts filled abundantly with the grace of the divine life; and thus be strengthened to go and share that divine life with those around us, both near and far.  Thus will God be glorified and our joy will be complete.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – January 16^th & 17^th, 2016

50 years of love

          This past Saturday, I had the joy of celebrating a Mass of Thanksgiving for my Aunt Fran and Uncle Dick on the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary.  50 years for any couple is an amazing achievement, but when it happens in your own family it is something special.  It was great to see so many of my cousins and their families, whom I rarely see these days, and to be able to offer Mass in thanksgiving to God for the grace that has sustained Aunt Fran and Uncle Dick these past 50 years.  Below is the homily I gave for the Mass.

Here's to many more years of faithful perseverance in love!

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50^th Anniversary Mass Homily: Richard and Frances Hakey

Gn 2:18-24; Eph 5:2a, 21-33; Mt 19:3-6

          Now I suspect that I might surprise some of you here when I say that, even after 50 years of marriage, Fran and Dick have what I would call a “modern” marriage.  Yeah, I know that they got married at the time when the Mass was still in Latin and that I seem to remember them having dinosaurs for pets (oh wait, that was the Flintstones).  No, even knowing that, I’d still call their marriage “modern”.  Because, you see, Fran and Dick, I would guess, married each other for love; and “marriage for love” is, actually, a somewhat modern thing.

          Just take a look at any ancient account of marriage.  What were they done for?  They were done to create political alliances between nations/kingdoms; or they were done to help bolster a family economically; which, of course, meant that they were almost always arranged and, thus, that the bride and groom almost never married because of love.  In the 19^th century, however, the “modern” period of history emerged: ushered in by the Enlightenment and a new focus on the liberty of the individual.  One of the consequences of that focus was that men and women now saw marriage as primarily for themselves, instead of being a way to advance one’s family or kingdom.  Thus, “marriage for love” also emerged.

          As human persons, we all know love in some way, and we know that love always involves at least two things: someone who loves and an object being loved.  Further, I would guess that most of us can tell the difference between the superficial love we have of things, such as coffee, chocolate, or a delicious steak, and the love that we have for other people.  I would even venture to say that those of us self-styled as “pet lovers” would still be able to distinguish between the love we have for Snoopy, Rufus, Fluffy, and Mr. Pickles and the love we have for our wives, our husbands, our children, and our close friends.  We recognize that the deepest, most authentic love is something that is shared equally, and that even the most loyal dog or loving cat, or even the most decadent slice of Ghirardelli chocolate cheesecake, cannot return our love to us as equally as we can give it.

          Thus we hear in the reading from the book of Genesis that the “suitable partner for the man” was not found in the wild animals and birds of the air, but in the woman, who was “bone of his bones and flesh of his flesh”—in other words, his equal—and that it is for this reason that “a man leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife…”  And so, perhaps “marriage for love”, even though it has emerged only recently in history, was how God meant for it to be all along?

          Anyone who has been married for 50 years can tell you that love of this kind—that is, true, authentic love—is not a feeling, but a choice: the choice to do whatever is truly good for another even when there seems to be no advantage in it for one’s self (or even, perhaps, when it seems to be detrimental to one’s self).  With this understanding, then, “marriage for love” is to feel so strongly a desire for another person’s happiness that one is willing to make a life-long commitment of working towards that end and, thus, that “marriage for love” is most perfect when that desire is shared by two persons who hold that desire for each other.

          And so when Saint Paul says that wives should be subordinate to their husbands, he’s not saying so because he’s trying to uphold some unequal cultural power structure between men and women, but rather he’s instructing them on how best to love them.  In other words, wives love their husbands best when they get behind and support their husband’s “program of life.”  And what is that?  Loving their wives as Christ loved the Church.  And how did Christ love the Church?  By handing his life over completely for her so that she might be made holy: “without spot or wrinkle or any such thing”.  (Wives, doesn’t this sound like a project that you could get behind?)  Therefore, the husband is to hand his life over—that is, to sacrifice all of his personal ambitions—so that his wife will become holy; and the wife is to get behind this project, thus sacrificing all of her personal ambitions as well so that she can be made holy; and in doing so she in turn supports her husband’s own path to holiness, for no one can hand over his life for the good of another without himself becoming holy.  And isn’t sainthood—that is, eternal holiness—what we’re all here for?  (This truly is a “great mystery”, isn’t it?)

          Fran and Dick, I hope that I am correct in stating that you indeed did marry for love; and that the love for which you married resembles in some way what I’ve described here.  If so, and even so, I would say that, while you married for love, you remained married for these past 50 years by grace.  True love, as I’ve described it here, is hard and so God’s grace is needed in order to persevere.  Your faith in God, and in his abiding love for us in Jesus, his Son, and your fidelity to the sacraments, most especially to the sacraments of the Holy Eucharist and Reconciliation, have provided the grace to remain faithful throughout these 50 years and thus to celebrate the fruits of this grace: being surrounded by your children and your children’s children.

          And so you come here today surrounded by loved ones to give thanks to God for the grace that has worked in and through you and to ask for his continued blessings on you in the years to come.  On behalf of everyone here, let me say “thank you” to you for your great witness of faith and love over these past 50 years.  May this witness, strengthened by this Eucharist, inspire each of us to be faithful to our vocations to love so that when our Lord Jesus returns he will find us holy and thus ready to be welcomed to the eternal banquet he has prepared for us in heaven.

Given at Saint Patrick’s Parish: Joliet, IL – October 5^th, 2013

You're invited...

...to a great wedding feast!  It's called the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.  Come, see what you've been missing.

You can see Amy's story (which I mention in my homily) here.

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Homily: 22^nd Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle C

          I remember fondly, back in the day when I was a kid in Joliet, how my brother and my sisters and I always used to fight for the front seat of the car on whatever kind of trip we were taking.  It could have been an out of town excursion up to Gurnee to see my aunt and uncle or just around the corner to the grocery store, but if there was more than one of us going along there was bound to be a battle for the coveted “front seat”.  Sometimes those battles were short and victory was decided quickly when one of us would grasp the advantage of foresight and yell “front seat!” as soon as mom or dad announced the trip.  Other times the battles were drawn out, the “calling” of the front seat happening almost simultaneously, usually resulting in a mad rush to the car door knowing that the unspoken rule was that if there was a tie in calling it, whoever got there first could claim victory.

          Sometimes, however, that victory would be short-lived.  Depending on where we were going, we might pick up my grandma or one of my aunts, thus deposing the victor of his or her throne and relegating him or her to the back (sometimes even to the “way-back” if we were driving the old station wagon with the rearward facing back seat).  If the victory had been hard-won, this move to the back was a disgraceful moment and the other siblings who tasted the bitterness of the loss had no sympathy for the now deposed victor: often forcing him or her to sit on the “hump seat” in the middle and thus serving him or her a healthy serving of “humble pie”.

          (By the way, since kids these days practically have to be driving themselves before they can even approach the front seat of a car, I feel justified in labeling my experience “back in the day”, even though I am still quite young.)

          I don’t think that it is much of a stretch to say that Jesus is teaching a similar lesson today.  In a way he is saying that if you try to take prestige and honor (thus exalting yourself) you will likely fall from it when one who is more deserving arrives.  His lesson is that we should instead learn humility and practice it before we are humiliated for having stepped beyond our station in life.  For my brother and sisters and I, we witnessed this when, after grandma or auntie was dropped off, my mother would choose someone to sit in the front seat for the return home.  Needless to say, it almost never was the one who fought tooth and nail to win the right to sit there in the first place.  Speaking of my experience alone, I remember being happier about having the front seat in those moments than if I had won the position outright.  Thus, practicing humility in this way reminds us of something: that all that we have is gift. ///

          Recently I encountered the story of Amy; a mom probably in her late 30’s or early 40’s who has three children.   She relates how she and her husband, not long after getting married, decided to move from their suburban home to a more rural setting.  The move was a very smooth one and both Amy and her husband found jobs right away making everything seem like it had worked out just fine.  After a couple of years, however, when the economy tanked, both Amy and her husband lost their jobs.  Obviously this was a big blow to the young family.  Amy relates that, while she never lost faith in the statement “God will provide”, she did start to question how exactly he would provide.  “Maybe God’s providence won’t include health insurance or a job or lights next week” she thought to herself.  In that she came to a realization that she said changed her whole perspective: that if all of these things that we claim to be our own in this world—our houses, our jobs, our insurance, even our family members and friends—can be lost or taken away from us, then none of it was ever really ours to begin with; and that, thus, everything must be gift.  Everything. ///

          In the reading from the book of Sirach today, it states “conduct your affairs with humility…” and “…into things beyond your strength, search not.”  For Amy and her family, this meant accepting that the gifts they had been given had been taken away and that to claim somehow that they were entitled to restitution was a false notion.  For Amy this acceptance was a freeing experience; for she knew that she no longer had to scratch and claw to keep what she had, but rather could remain detached from it: receiving it with joy as a gift when it came and letting it go to others whose need appeared to be greater.  And in doing so she learned something about God’s generosity with us.

          In the second half of the Gospel reading, Jesus exhorts the host of the dinner to consider who he invites to his dinner parties.  Instead of inviting his friends and relatives or wealthy benefactors, Jesus tells him to invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind, because these would never be able to repay his kindness and thus he would find favor in the eyes of God.  In making this statement, Jesus is teaching us God-like generosity.  God gives abundantly to us, even though we have no way to possibly repay him.  Therefore, we must do the same.

          Many families are in the same position as Amy’s family was.  They’ve worked to build a secure home for their families only to find that their jobs had been cut because of the recession.  Our Scriptures today, however, show us how to cope with this kind of loss.  If we can see that all that we had was a gift—i.e. that it wasn’t something that we were necessarily entitled to—then we can give thanks, even though we no longer enjoy the gift.  And if we can see what we still have as a gift, then we can give thanks for it, too; and we will be open to sharing that gift generously with others, especially those who may have no means to repay us.  By doing so, we humble ourselves and thus make ourselves available to be exalted by God’s generosity to us.

          This weekend our nation celebrates our labor by taking a national day of rest.  I’m sure many of you will either host or participate in cookouts or other celebrations.  Perhaps in light of Jesus’ words today we should ask ourselves two questions: “Who have we invited?” and “Who have we left out?”  My brothers and sisters, as God has invited us—who are poor, crippled, lame, and blind—here to this banquet of grace—a banquet that we could never hope to reciprocate—we, too, must invite those who are far from us—those on the margins of society, as Pope Francis calls them—to enjoy the many gifts that have been bestowed upon us: most especially this gift of the Holy Eucharist.  Let us set ourselves to this good work, then, and let us invoke the help of the humble Virgin Mary, who always comes to the aid of her poor children, so that we, too, may know God’s favor now and eternal blessedness in heaven.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – August 31^st and September 1^st, 2013

Musings on wanderings

Ok, I know that I pulled you all into this new blog with the promise that I would update more, but I didn't foresee how some of the events of the past weeks would hinder my ability to update by keeping me quite busy. {excuse mode off}

A few weekends ago, the town of Ferdinand held it's first annual Folk Festival. It was a one-day event that featured a bunch of different local arts and crafts, information about healthier eating through organic and more natural foods, food booths from local merchants, and (as you all might guess from its name) live folk music. I went mainly for the music and was really impressed with Sarah Siskind. She's written songs that Alison Krauss and other significant artists have recorded but I think her voice certainly holds up on its own. Nevertheless, I was also impressed with the vender booths (though I couldn't afford to buy anything on my limited seminarian income) and the delicious food offerings (ok, so I could afford to sample some food). It was a gorgeous day in southern Indiana and I look forward to next year's festival. Check out pictures here.

About a week after that, my younger sister, Denise, was married to Jason. I don't have any pictures from that day yet (I didn't need to take any, there were plenty of people taking pictures for me). I saw so many people that I hadn't seen in years. Not just cousins and aunts and uncles, but also people from the neighborhood that I grew up in back in J-town. It was really neat to connect with a lot of those people. Some family members who I don't think I've ever met were there. Cousins from my father's side (Fabbre) were there. We've had so little connection with that side of the family (they've always lived so far away) that it made it special to connect with them, especially since I am now officially the last Petan! I'm happy for my sister and pray that she and Jason will grow in love each and every day.

I've been playing a lot of "catch up" after having been gone from the seminary for the weekend of the wedding, so I haven't had time for much else. One of my favorite little "treats" here at the seminary, though, is making a Saturday "pilgrimage." I start by waking up early to pray Vigils and Lauds (morning prayers) with the monks (they pray at 5:30 a.m.), then I walk to the Monte Cassino shrine chapel, which is about 1 1/4 miles from here, where a monk will celebrate mass at 7:00 a.m. I get there just in time to pray a rosary before mass with some of the local people who come every week. After mass I walk back to the seminary to have breakfast and start my day. The pilgrimage starts before the sunrises and finishes as it's making it's way into the day. It's usually a pretty peaceful walk and it's a good time to reflect on the week that has passed. I made this trip last week and snapped a few photos along the way.





Well, that's all for now. As always, thanks for your prayers!