Solemnity of the Ascension of Our Lord (Year A )

I’ve mentioned in the past, one of my absolute favourite Saints in the Church’s canon is St. Augustine.  He lived in the fourth century, and after his truly miraculous and deep conversion to Christianity he wrote extensively on many topics of our faith, helping us to come to a better understanding of various theological points.  His gift for writing produced some of the most beautiful expressions of our faith, which we still use to this day.

One of his quotes, which is among my favourites, is this:

“If you believe what you like in the Gospel, and reject what you don’t like, it is not the Gospel you believe, but yourself.”

The reason I gravitate towards this quote, is because, so often we hear people pick and choose what teachings and sayings of Jesus to support a rather benign, warm and fuzzy image of; a Jesus that demands nothing and challenges no one.

As we celebrate the Ascension of our Lord, we need to concentrate – I think – on our Gospel passage from St. Matthew in this current culture, even moreso than St. Luke’s accounts in the Acts of the Apostles regarding the actual taking up into heaven of Jesus.

I think perhaps it is so important to focus on the words of Jesus in His commissioning of His disciples, just before he ascends to the Father, because it seems that as Catholics, we have allowed our secular culture to completely colour everything that is at the core of our faith.  We live in world that says, ‘just be a good person’ (whatever that means) and that’s enough.  We think of Jesus in terms of being compassionate and loving (He is all of that, yes and more) , without considering that some of His teachings were tough and demanding.  Both the ‘soft’ and the ‘hard’ messages made up all of his commands.  His words to His disciples at the end of the Gospel of Matthew are quite explicit in this regard.

He said, “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”

What did He command His disciples (which includes us, by the way)? 

Some immediately come to mind:  love God with your whole being and love your neighbour as yourself; seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you, ask and you shall receive.

Those are pretty pleasant-sounding directions that can give us a very tame image of Jesus, and image that doesn’t challenge or demand anything concrete in our lives.

Sometimes we forget about the harder sayings: when He teaches following Him is to be supreme in the life of a true disciple (let the dead bury the dead; you must hate your parents, spouse and children; no one who puts a hand to the plow and turns back is fit for the kingdom of God); you must be perfect; or this gem from Chapter 18 –  Dealing With Sin in the Church

 “If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over. But if they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.’ If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church; and if they refuse to listen even to the church, treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector.”

Hard sayings indeed, but they are all part and parcel of the commandments of Jesus and following them is what it means to be His disciple, a reflection of the Master.  Picking and choosing the ones we prefer and ignoring the rest, (if I may paraphrase Augustine) is not believing the Gospel, but is simply a reflection our own selves and our own will.   

Even in the bluntness of Jesus’ directions or commands, however, there is an underlying message of comfort and compassion that is as important not to ignore or dismiss.

“Behold I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” 

In our weakness and our struggles to follow everything that He taught, Jesus will not abandon us.  He will always be there with us as we struggle to understand His teachings;  all He asks is that we listen to His words, follow what He taught, and trust in His promises.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever!

5th Sunday of Easter (Year A )

There is, perhaps, nothing more frustrating than stating something plainly when instructing someone, and having them fail to grasp it – particularly if it is simply a refusal to accept it or a refusal to consider that the one teaching may actually know more about something than the one being taught.  Think of practical experiences on the job, in the classroom, even in the home.  Sometimes it calls for almost superhuman patience, in going over and over something and continually hoping the one being shown a task or formula will be open to following instructions.

Recent events have underscored how frustratingly ignorant , on a grand scale, our culture and society have become in terms of our understanding of who Jesus truly is, and what Christianity truly means; or even more specifically what Catholicism is all about.  We have seen how politicians try to square their Catholic faith with party policy, often with the policy being in complete opposition to the teachings of their faith; and yet we hear a response of ‘not wanting to force their beliefs on others’ or ‘well, I AM Catholic, BUT….” Or that tired old song of ‘separation of church and state’. (They often forget that principal was meant to preserve the practice of faith from interference by the state)

Many people, including Catholics, point to other religions and their prime tenets and then back to Catholicism saying, ‘well, their basic teachings are all the same’, and then considering Jesus as simply a wise philosopher and teacher, a good holy man who was accepting of all behaviours and actions.

Such of course, is not the case; and nowhere in Scripture is this more explicit than in this Sunday’s gospel passage from St. John. (14:1-12).  We hear the words of Jesus, speaking to his closest followers, His Apostles, about His true nature, and despite that, the Apostles refuse to open themselves to what He has taught them all along – they look upon Him as a ‘great teacher’ , a ‘good rabbi’ and fail to grasp that He is much, much more.

He tells them about the way to the Father; Thomas says ‘show us the way’ – in other words, teach us some technique or principal; Jesus says, ‘I AM the Way, the Truth and the Life’.  Philip says, ‘show us the Father and we will be satisfied’ – in other words, manifest something outside of yourself to show us that what you teach is true;  Jesus responds, ‘ I Am in the Father and the Father is in me,” , clearly identifying Himself in complete union with God, as God, in God.

The nature of both of these answers is a relationship; He and the Father are one because they are in complete union.  He is the Way to the Father because He and Father are in complete relationship.  But He takes it a step further – He  says, ‘if you know me you will know my Father also,’.  He is straightforward here – that His followers will come to know God because He, Jesus, is God.

Catholicism, Christianity is not a philosophy or a method to follow to achieve God, or simply a school for improving one’s life.  Ultimately Christianity is a relationship with God, a God who enters into our humanity in the person of Jesus Christ – not a simple teacher or wise man or holy leader – it is a relationship with God Himself in Jesus.  That relationship is, at its very core, how we become what we were meant to be, more than we are; we become united intimately to the Creator, as opposed to living as one of His creatures; we become a sign of His presence to all people. 

But the only way we can become a sign of His presence to all people is if we carry that relationship we have with Him and He with the Father into all aspects of our life – not just in church, not just in our homes or rooms, not just in some quiet, silent corner removed from every other facet of our thoughts and words and actions. We must reflect who we profess Jesus to be – and if we profess Him to be something other than who He said He was Himself, than we are not truly Christians.  We simply adopt some Christian ‘philosophies’, which can be discarded on a whim when they fail to be convenient to us.

By its very nature, that relationship of love we have with Him must be present in everything we do, everywhere we are – rather in the private or public arena.  It means nothing to treat others in our own social circles or homes as we would like to be treated, if we do not carry that relational attitude into everything we do – including our workplaces, including our schools, including the public and political forums that we find ourselves in.   We can call ourselves ‘friends’ of  Jesus, and follow Him in our private lives; but we cannot call ourselves brothers and sisters of Jesus if we reject Him in our public lives because it is ‘inconvenient’ or might not be ‘how others think’. 

Being told to keep our faith to ourselves and then being criticized for  ‘not acting very Christian’ in public is perhaps one of the most oxymoronic statements of our current culture. It is not a matter of seeking confrontation.  It is a matter of witness – living out our relationship with Our God, the one who invites us into a deeply personal, intimate and lived relationship; a relationship of truth with all of our brothers and sisters; a relationship of love and compassion with Our Lord Jesus Christ

Praised be Jesus Christ now and forever!

4th Sunday of Easter (Year A )

­­Any parent with small children, or recalls what it was like to have young children will be familiar with something we call, ‘the head count’ – when our children were much younger, my wife Kathi and I were continually turning and sometimes audibly counting heads to make sure we had all of our five children with us whenever we were on a trip or outing.

This applies as well to those charged with the care in any way of children – teachers, drivers, resource people, day care providers – and it extends beyond that – parents with a group of children going to a birthday party, to a day at a park or a beach; people with the responsibility of delivering a group of people from one place to another; people with tour groups, sports teams, pilgrims;

We turn around and almost on reflex repeatedly take stock of the numbers of those in our care- we count and re-count several times to make sure we have everyone with us who is supposed to be with us – so that no one becomes lost and no one is left behind.  And anyone who has ever experienced the absence of a child – when they lose track of them, even if only for a few moments- experiences that icy terrible dread that we feel right through the depths of our heart when we think, even if only for the briefest of times, that we have lost one of these little ones in our care.

That no one is left behind, abandoned, or forgotten.  This is the message of our Gospel today; the message of the Good Shepherd; this beautiful, often-quoted passage from St. John’s Gospel speaks to each of us of the care, concern and deep love that Jesus has for each of His sheep- for those who hear His voice and respond to Him. 

Shepherds in Jesus time on earth were really outcasts; their work kept them outside the towns and villages; they were occupied in a dirty trade, and were prevented from participating in day to day social activities, including worship in the synagogues and temples- but it provided them with an income.

Yet here we have the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd – choosing to set aside His own comforts, His own life; setting himself apart to be in the company of His sheep; not for pay or compensation – but purely out of love. And because He gives up everything for His sheep, the sheep know and trust and follow Him. And He reunites us with God as we were meant to be from the beginning.

In essence, Our Lord describes Himself continually doing the ‘head count’, not wanting a single sheep he has called to be left behind or lost. And as much as we know how we can feel that sense of dread when we fear someone in our care has been ‘left behind’, we can only imagine how God, who loves every one of His children – every member of the entire human race since time began – feels the loss of each and every person who chooses not to be reunited with Him.

This deep desire that no one be abandoned or left behind; this is a desire – this is a responsibility that is taken up by every person who seeks to minister to others in the name of Christ; we think of the obvious examples of good shepherds in our own day, and usually we come to think of the Pope; we think of our bishops with their croziers or staffs, shaped sometimes like a shepherd’s crook – leading and guiding us towards a deeper relationship that God calls each of us to. We think of our pastors who lead us on a parish level – we might think of deacons who assist in guiding and teaching in ministries of charity, or those who lead in the many and varied lay ministries within our parish or diocese.

In addition to ‘Good Shepherd Sunday’, this is also the World Day of Prayer for Vocations; and while we are experiencing a shortage of priests in this diocese, there are other locations where the shortage is a real crisis, where the chance to attend Mass is in jeopardy because there simply aren’t enough priests.  It is a time to remind us that we should ask God, as St. Therese of Lisieux called Him ‘ The Lord of the Harvest’ ‘ to send more labourers into His harvest.’ It is a time for those who are perhaps considering a vocation to the priesthood, diaconate or religious life, to seriously listen to that voice whispering in their ear. 

But there is so much to be done in leading and guiding the people of God – every baptized Christian has a role to play in bringing others into this wonderful reunion with God – from those who teach about our faith – to parents, to grandparents, even children – whether we lead others as clergy; as religious; as teachers, in public service, as supervisors in a workplace; as mentors to those less experienced in our trades, wherever and whenever we are in a position of trust and responsibility for others, we are all shepherds and as Catholics we are all responsible for taking up our roles of guiding others , by our word and example, to come to know Christ and enter into a deeper relationship with God.

But Jesus warned us that there would be thieves and bandits who would try to guide us away from Him, from His love – who would try to lure us away from living out our baptismal call to holiness as children of God – and we see so many examples of that in our own society; voices that place individual comfort and gain ahead of everything else; voices that tell us God is irrelevant- that the Church is out of touch with our lives; voices that tell us that rather than give people the dignity they deserve, they are to be used as a means to an end for profit or pleasure; that caring for the sick, feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless are, at best, someone else’s problem; or worse – a burden on society.

And just like with the head count of children there is a double-edged sword here; I speak for myself, but this is true of all who deeply love God and want to share that love with everyone; Sometimes we have to remind our sisters and brothers – and be reminded ourselves- of teachings and guidance that some of us would rather not hear  – much the same as parents and teachers who have to make some unpopular decisions at times – but when we do this, it is done out of love and charity, following the example of the Good Shepherd, so that none may be lost. 

And while there is a tremendous sense of joy when God uses us to draw someone into the faith, or uses us to help someone return to Him or come closer to Him – there is just as tremendous a sense of personal loss each time we witness someone separate themselves or distance themselves from the faith; the departure of so many from the Church – from attendance at Mass – from putting their faith into practice in their daily lives – this really is a tragedy of immense  proportions; it is a huge loss and it is something that we all mourn and we grieve over.

I am quite confident that every person here knows at least one Catholic who has not been to Mass in a long time, or no longer receives the Sacraments.  It is in that imitation of our Good Shepherd that each of us is expected to encourage, in charity, these brothers and sisters of ours to ‘come home’; to offer in all sincerity an atmosphere of welcome to them on behalf of Our Lord.  It is up to each of us to give voice to Christ’s invitation to each of them to return to celebrate and worship with us; What kind of a response will we get? Look at our first reading from the Acts of the Apostles- the people would not have received baptism if they had not been invited by St. Peter at Pentecost –  while not everyone in Jerusalem responded to that invitation, the scripture says 3000 were added to their number that day. We may think, well, if I ask someone to come back to church, they’ll probably say no- but they won’t say ‘yes’ if we don’t invite them.

We can all serve as reminders that no matter how many times we may wander away from God’s will; that how many times we become lost, that Our Lord never abandons us; that He is always calling and guiding us, if only we will respond to His Call; to His voice.

And yet, we know, that Our Lord never abandons us; that He is always calling and guiding us, if only we will respond to His call; to His voice.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever

Passion Sunday (Year A)

As we mark the beginning of Holy Week, we are given the polar opposite reactions to Jesus in the two gospel passages presented to us from St. Matthew – the triumphal entry into Jerusalem and a week later, the passion, crucifixion and death of Jesus.  While we often consider the tremendous sacrifice and meekness of Jesus, accepting both the good and the bad extremes in less than a week, ultimately surrendering all to the Father in atonement for the fallen human race, I think we frequently neglect to see how the actions of people in the gospels are reflected in our own day and in our own lives as followers of Jesus.  Perhaps we deliberately avoid reflecting in that way because we don’t like what we might see in our own lives and actions, if we are brutally honest with ourselves.

We may look at the treatment of Jesus by the Roman soldiers during his Passion, and say, ‘how could they be so unkind and cruel?”

But if we put ourselves into their place and time, for the Roman soldiers, this was a matter of routine – this is how foreign enemies of the Empire were dealt with; ‘no big deal’ if you will.  They were desensitized to the suffering they inflicted.  They didn’t have to be concerned with how their prisoners ‘felt’ or ‘ thought’ because it really didn’t concern them.

This is just one example, where we are invited to reflect on the parallel between the treatment of Christ in the gospels, and in our own time; to  see where we may have inflicted harm on the body of Christ – the Church – our brothers and sisters – as a matter of thoughtless or deliberate words, whether through neglect or direct action.   It does us no good to simply read the Passion as a historical event, saying ‘poor Jesus, how you suffered,’ if we are not willing to honestly contemplate where this event continues to be played out in our own world and in our own lives; if we aren’t willing to see how and where Jesus suffers each and every day, in great ways and small, in those we directly and indirectly encounter.

This most sacred time of year, Holy Week, is an opportunity for each of us to reflect more deeply on the mystery of salvation history and recognize he part that God Himself invites each of us to play in it; to be directly involved in drawing others to God, rather than ignoring them or driving them away.

The gentleness, meekness and surrender to God’s will that Jesus illustrates for each of us, should be the hallmark of our own lives and relationships each and every day; to reach out in love and to help build God’s Kingdom here and now.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever!

4th Sunday of Lent (Year A )

I believe by now, everyone is familiar with the stories of legal actions taken against different businesses, public facilities or restaurants when someone has been injured or something has been damaged – and how among the results of the legal action was a permanent warning being placed on something obvious; for example the warning on a takeout coffee cup, “contents may be hot”; or on a commercial stovetop, a warning sign, “Caution! Surface may be hot.”  For some it seems that these are matters of common sense, which sometimes (my father used to say) isn’t very common.  He would sometimes suggest the ocean should have a sign, “Warning!  Water may be wet.”  Personal experience, and the experiences of others passed onto us, help us navigate the hazards of daily life.  However, we have to recognize and respond to these experiences, not ignore or forget them.

The unfortunate reality though, is it is only because someone didn’t apply that sense to what would seem obvious, or ignored that common sense that a warning or caution sign had to be implemented.  In other words, if someone hadn’t been burned or scalded in what would seem obvious circumstances, there wouldn’t have been a warning sign posted.

In today’s gospel passage from St. John, we read the story of the beggar, blind since birth, and his miraculous healing at the hands of Jesus; Jesus who says, “I am the light of the world.”  There is so much to learn from this passage; too much to focus on here, so I strongly encourage everyone to read and re-read and spend time reflecting on John 9:1-41

One point I would like to look at though, is the response of the Pharisees;  obviously they are not happy with this confrontation with a man they consider a ‘sinner’; anyone with a physical ailment, and particularly one so serious as blindness since birth was considered by them to be receiving ‘punishment’ from God for sins.  They don’t appreciate being ‘lectured’ by him on the Law which they have spent a lifetime learning, practicing and enforcing.  In addition they already have expressed animosity towards Jesus;  it might be easy to miss how much.  John’s gospel says that they had already agreed that if anyone acknowledged Jesus “as the Christ, he would be expelled from the synagogue.”

Much like the coffee or stovetop warning, they wouldn’t have agreed on this type of enforcement action, unless some individual or groups hadn’t already started acknowledging Jesus as the Messiah.  We sometimes think people don’t start believing that Jesus is the Son of Man or Son of God or the Messiah until after His Resurrection;  yet here we have a passage of scripture, just like last Sunday’s reading of the ‘woman at the well’, where Jesus reveals His identity to an outsider or outcast: after the formerly blind man is ejected from the synagogue, Jesus seeks him out, finds him, and in the following conversation reveals Himself to this outcast: “Do you believe in the Son of Man” to which the blind man asks who the Son of Man is so he can believe in him, and Jesus answers, “the one speaking with you is he.” 

Whether the woman at the well, the man born blind, or each of us in our own individual lives, Jesus reveals Himself to us in the experiences of our lives; whether events we have lived through or through the experiences of others that we trust which have been passed along to us.  Even before He speaks the words, “I am He”, those who have an encounter with Him experience His love, compassion, wisdom, strength and mercy.  Jesus leads us to a place where we are ready to hear those words, “I am He” leading either directly in our own hearts, through the scriptures, or through the actions of others.  Of course, once Jesus reveals Himself, we are forever changed, like the man who was blind from birth who regained his sight and then worshipped Jesus.

It is truly an awe-inspiring thing to consider that our own actions could have such cosmic consequences in the lives of others.  We have the possibility of preparing others for Christ’s revelation to them (like the blind man inviting the Pharisees in the synagogue to come to know Jesus) or preparing them to reject Him (like the Pharisees threatening to throw people out of the synagogue).  That choice is ours, carried out in our words and actions.

Perhaps that should come with it’s own little warning sign; “ Caution- exposure to Jesus through others may lead to a life of love and unity in Christ”

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever!

2nd Sunday of Lent (Year A )

It’s difficult given media reports and current world events, not to be afraid.  With the current situation in the Ukraine; the ongoing bloodshed in the Middle East; ongoing threats of terrorism and strife – these play on our minds.  Yet we try to downplay or ignore those things that frighten us, as if that will simply make them go away.

And what has that got to do with today’s Gospel story – the Transfiguration of Jesus?  Certainly fear is not the first thing we think of when we consider the images that the Transfiguration brings to mind.

But in St. Matthew’s account of the Transfiguration, fear receives special treatment and special mention; in fact, in this particular gospel account, it reveals an all-too-human response to the challenge of discipleship; but it reveals the solution to that human response.

This incident is recounted in all three of the synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark and Luke.  But only in St. Matthew’s does the response of fear from the three Apostles, Peter, James and John – follow the pronouncement from God who Jesus is, and what God expects of those to whom this truth about Jesus is revealed.

We might expect a response of fear and bewilderment at any point in this episode as it plays itself out. 

Peter, James and John are chosen often from amongst the twelve apostles by Jesus to be close to him at certain points in his ministry, in his prayer and in his teachings.  Anyone would be forgiven for thinking that perhaps these three are Jesus’ ‘best friends’ from among all his followers.

They have traveled with him, witnessed his preaching, watched him perform great miracles – the feeding of the five thousand; walking on water; numerous healings.  They have lived, eaten, and worked with him.  They know him, on a human level, perhaps better than most others. This is the Jesus that they have climbed Mt. Tabor with.

While they are sitting, they see him suddenly turn as bright as the sun, and his clothes become dazzling white; this doesn’t frighten them.

Then they see Moses and Elijah – the implication is that Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets – the Messiah, and Moses and Elijah are giving witness to this;  but Moses and Elijah have been dead for hundreds of years, and this doesn’t frighten them either.

In fact, Peter wants to build shelter for the Jesus, Moses and Elijah, so filled with awe that he doesn’t know what else to say, but again, he’s not frightened. 

A bright cloud overshadows everyone, and still they aren’t frightened; they’re okay with all of this.  But then a voice speaks from the cloud – the voice of God: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased: listen to him!”

Now, they’re afraid.

The Gospel relates, ‘When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear.’

The positioning of this phrase “they were overcome by fear” is unique to St. Matthew’s Gospel.  This is not the first time that God the Father has indicated his relationship with Jesus; in fact, the first part of this proclamation is the same as it was when Jesus was baptized in the Jordan River – ‘This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.”  There’s nothing frightening here.

The difference this time, is the command that goes with this announcement from God; “Listen to him!”

This is when the disciples are frightened.  None of the other apparitions or implications or events on Mt. Tabor shake them until they hear this command.  “Listen to him.”

Perhaps the cost of discipleship is finally starting to sink in with Peter, James and John.  Prior to this episode, Jesus has spelled out the meaning of true discipleship: in St. Matthew’s Gospel, immediately preceding the Transfiguration, Jesus tells his listeners, ‘anyone who would be my disciple must take up their cross daily and follow me; anyone who holds onto their life will lose it; but anyone who loses their life for my sake will save it.”

The implication of the command ‘Listen to Him,’ can indeed be a frightening one.  For these three apostles, it meant that nothing in their lives would ever be the same again.  They could not go back to their lives, to ‘business as usual’ after this experience; they had seen the great lawgiver Moses, and the great prophet Elijah bearing witness to Jesus as the Messiah.  More than this, they heard the voice of God quite plainly stating who Jesus is – God’s beloved Son; to ‘listen to him’ meant that they could no longer follow their own ambitions and desires and wants.  They couldn’t simply bask in the ‘glow’ of the glorified Christ, thinking of themselves as holding privileged positions; they had to take to heart the teachings of Jesus and do as he asked.

This same implication can often cause us to be afraid in our own faith journeys.  We want to rest on Mt. Tabor with Jesus, witnessing to his glory, spending time alone with him.  It is good to be there.

But when God touches us in the depths of our hearts, and reveals to us who Jesus really and truly is, we too are given that same command; “Listen to Him.”  And as with the disciples, it means for us too, that ‘business’ will no longer be the same.  The command means we have to consider that maybe all that we have assumed may have to change as well; maybe our plans for the future aren’t really what we’re called to; maybe the relationships we’ve been in aren’t in keeping with what Jesus asks of us; maybe our selections of entertainment or recreation or comforts aren’t in keeping with what it means to ‘listen to him’.

And the minute we are confronted with that in our own conscience, that perhaps we might have to change or give something up or treat people differently than we have been, that can cause us to become fearful.  We don’t like to change – we resist it, as if somehow acknowledging we need to change something, means admitting that we’re somehow defective or wrong.  In reality, acknowledging we need to change something means growth;  it means embracing that desire to grow closer to God; to come closer to what Jesus showed the disciples on Mt. Tabor; the future that awaits those who imitate the Master; who grow closer to Christ; who join Him in His glory as adopted daughters and sons of God.

Yes, change can be unsettling, disturbing, even frightening.  But just as the disciples witnessed in the midst of their fear when their senses were overwhelmed with the brightness and the visions and the voice; it says, ‘Jesus touched them and said, ‘Get up and do not be afraid’… they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.’

If we truly wish to join in Christ’s glory, we also need to join in his suffering of the cross, dying to ourselves and living as he taught. But just as he said to the disciples, he says to us; ‘do not be afraid’

And just like the disciples, if we trust in him, if we ‘listen to him’, then when we look up in the midst of our journey, in spite of challenges and struggles, we will see “only Jesus himself’ there with us.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever!

1st Sunday of Lent (Year A )

We often play down the possibility that we may stray from where God calls us, or where the teachings of Christ lead us, by failing or refusing to acknowledge that we are tempted to stray.

Our current culture and society stress the importance of being ‘independent’ and ‘free-thinking’, and so as a consequence, we become the final arbiters of what is or is not ‘right’; what does or does not lead to ‘Truth’ – God being the ultimate Truth.  We can cite physical or material ‘wants’ as ‘needs’; we can rationalize our actions easily by determining what is ‘best’ for us (meaning ourselves alone); we can conclude that we alone have the final say on what is or is not right.

The easiest way to fall into this ‘trap’, particularly for those who profess to be Christians, is to deny that we are engaged in a spiritual war in this lifetime; a war in which the very fate of our souls, and those we influence, is determined.  To deny this ‘struggle’ is to deny that there is a possibility of going in the wrong direction, of succumbing to ‘temptation’.  If we convince ourselves that we are the final authority in what is right and wrong, we have already surrendered to temptation. We may even convince ourselves that there is no such thing as temptation, because right and wrong are very subjective terms.  I might here offer a quote attributed to Pope Francis in 2014 which may bluntly explain what is wrong with this view; “If you believe you have never been tempted, you are either a little angel come down from heaven, or you’re an idiot” (I won’t vouch for the authenticity of this quote, but you get my point).

In today’s gospel, we see Jesus engaged in that very battle of temptation – the ultimate personification of Good in Jesus facing the personification of Evil in the devil; this episode in St. Matthew’s account occurs after Jesus has been fasting in the desert.  He’s no doubt very hungry, tired, and alone.

The three temptations as offered, though, speak to a very common progression in our own lives as we battle temptations – the first is to tempt Jesus to address bodily wants (we can argue whether the bread was needed or wanted here, but the point is that Jesus in deliberately choosing to fast as part of his ‘retreat’ saw the bread more as a ‘want’ than a ‘need’).  Jesus quotes Sacred Scripture in responding that the need for God supersedes any momentary ‘wants’ or ‘comforts’.  In fact, satisfying that ‘want’ in the moment may lead us away from God, if we are serious about our pilgrim journey.

The next temptation is to suggest that we can manipulate God to suit ourselves; ‘if you are the Son of God throw yourself off this cliff, for God will send His angels to bear you up…’  God gives us a rational mind in real, physical world – we shouldn’t need to somehow expect God to provide supernatural proof of how important we are to Him, and we certainly shouldn’t be calling on Him to perform ‘parlour tricks’ to satisfy our own egos how important we are to Him.  He loved us into existence. If that isn’t sufficient proof of His love for us, then we need to seriously examine ourselves.

Finally the devil offers power and fame in exchange for Jesus bowing down to him.  Here, we see the devil tempting Jesus with his own sin – the sin of pride.  How prevalent this ‘root sin’ is in our own day and in our own lives; ‘I don’t need anyone else to tell me when I am doing something wrong,’ or ‘I don’t need some old-fashioned rule in my modern life because they are so outdated’; we move and act as if we alone are the wisest of all creatures since the beginning; as if centuries of saints and scholars, theologians and teachers couldn’t hold a candle to our own wit and wisdom (which all too often is formed by questionable or outright false information we find on the internet).

The message in this Gospel is that temptation is very real; it happened to Christ Himself – and it is hardly surprising that it should happen to those who would follow Him.  The difference is that we are called to resist it, just as Jesus did; not by pretending that it doesn’t exist, but by confronting it wherever we see it in our lives, and calling it what it is.  Rather than presuming that we have all the answers, perhaps it is with a sense of humility that we acknowledge that we don’t know ‘everything’. Perhaps we need to be humble enough to seek the actual information we need to properly form our conscience and to know how to properly make informed decisions.

Perhaps, after all, we need to rely on God to deliver us from temptation.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever!

6th Sunday Ordinary Time ( Year A )

Our society seems to have a really difficult time when it comes to admitting that sometimes one thing is better than the other (unless it’s a sports competition like , say, the Superbowl).  Rather than encouraging our young people to strive to excel at school, for example, we minimize the achievements of some, so that others won’t feel less successful; instead of holding out the example of excellence, we celebrate mediocrity so that no one ‘feels bad’ – as if we can shield them from disappointment or struggles their entire lives.  This attitude permeates our entire culture.

This attitude is often reflected in our personal relationships with God.  We seem to act as if we can be minimalist in our approach to our Creator.

We may hear someone say, ‘well I’ve never sinned; I haven’t killed anyone or robbed a bank’ as if this is the threshold of acceptable behavior or sin.  I’m sure we can all agree that there are things short of killing someone that are not acceptable – or other ways of stealing that may be less than robbing a bank; and I’m sure we can all agree that these ‘lesser’ offences are no less offensive.  But if we continually use the extreme as the example or threshold of what we can ‘get away with’, then we do the opposite of what we are called to in our spiritual life (and indeed in our Christian journey); we fall into a trap – a mindset where we rationalize our own words and actions to minimize the damage they do to our own relationship with others, and to somehow fool ourselves into thinking that we are not distancing ourselves from a relationship of deep love with God.

We know the consequences of our actions, whether we choose to openly admit it or not; if we continually speak in anger or uncharitably to another, eventually that relationship will be beyond repair – if we look outside our relationships with lust, eventually that will have a damaging effect on the relationships we are in.  And God allows us to freely choose; in the first reading from Sirach, we hear, “Before each person are life and death, good and evil, and whichever one chooses, that will be given.”  God doesn’t force us to truly love him or to truly love others; but there is a responsibility we face for all of our choices and an accountability for them; it says a little later in this same passage, God “has not given anyone permission to sin.”

Perhaps we need to reacquaint ourselves with the word ‘sin’; we don’t like it (however we have come to know its meaning); but just ignoring it because we don’t like it doesn’t deny its existence.  In its simplest terms, sin means anything – thoughts, words, actions – in which we deliberately choose those things which draw us away from God, towards our selves.

In today’s Gospel Jesus gives pretty serious examples – and then shows how much higher that bar should be raised; he refers to the Law of Moses, and says it basically presents us with a threshold for our exterior actions; but it’s a minimum threshold if we are truly serious about living a life in complete and total union with God.  The Law says not to commit adultery, but then Jesus says if we look at another person with lust, we have already committed adultery in our hearts; the Law says not to murder, but then Jesus says if we are angry or insulting in our words to others, we will face judgment.  It sounds like an impossible task for our fallen human nature – and it is. This whole Gospel passage underscores our need to rely on God’s grace in helping us to live and act in union with Him and with each other.

While these words from Jesus sound very harsh, there is also great love in them.  He is reminding all of us that rather than satisfy ourselves with some ‘minimalist’ threshold of thought or action, we are called for nobler, greater, and far more wondrous things than we could possibly imagine; and it all starts with the intentions of our hearts.  If our thoughts and words and actions constantly center on ourselves, our wants, our personal desires, then eventually we will find ourselves drawn deeper into ourselves and further away from God and others. If our desire is fixed on God, and we nurture that desire, then we will be drawn more and more towards that union of great and deep and awesome love; and that union will find itself expressed more and more in our own thoughts and words and actions; and those external expressions will find us growing more deeply in our relationship with all of those around us. 

While Jesus’ words are words of warning, they are also words of encouragement and support; rather than trying to rationalize selfish behaviours (and that’s very hard work), we can simply admit to ourselves that we cannot possibly attain God without His love and the help that Christ holds out to us.  That admission frees us from all of the other ‘work’ and ‘weight’ of trying to rationalize our own actions and opens us up to the grace of God’s strength and love.  And we cannot imagine what that relationship holds out for us.  Because as the author of 1^st Corinthians tell us, “… no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor human heart conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him.”

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever!

5th Sunday Ordinary Time ( Year A )

Sometimes we hear people make comments about others, like,’ she’s so pleasant, she can light up a room full of people just by walking in,’ or ‘he’s so honest and hardworking, he’s just the salt of the earth.’

Because these are used in our day as compliments, sometimes it’s difficult for us to see past the surface of these analogies, ‘salt of the earth’ and ‘light of the world’ when we read the particular passage from St. Matthew that is our Gospel reading today. We have to understand that in this context, Jesus, speaking directly to his disciples – anyone who is his follower – is not simply paying a compliment or patting them on the back.  He’s giving a command – giving direction; he’s calling on them – and us – to live out fully the potential his followers have; to be a force for good in the world and to continually draw closer to God, and bring others closer to God by a lived example.

In other words, Jesus is saying to anyone who claims to be his follower – be authentic – don’t just say you are my follower; live as one of my followers.

Live an authentic life in witnessing to the Gospel.  To be authentic means not to say one thing and do another, but to live out the two greatest commandments; to love God above all else, and to love our neighbour as ourselves. 

To fulfill the potential we have as sons and daughters of God.

In Palestine, at the time of Jesus, the salt used was a course, large crystalline substance, something like the salt we use to melt ice…and it wasn’t used to season food to taste – it was used to preserve foods like fish and meat – this was long before refrigerators and vacuum sealed plastic packaging.

The trouble with this type of salt, was that if it was left in the open, or exposed to the elements, it could lose its ‘saltiness’ – its ability to preserve fish and meats from spoiling, from becoming corrupted.  And once this salt lost its effectiveness, it was tossed outside on the ground; somewhat like crushed gravel that we have in some driveways and walkways.  The only thing this salt was good for at this point, was for walking on –‘trampling underfoot’.

While the use of the salt metaphor in this parable may not be quite clear to us today in its context, the meaning was very clear to the disciples of Jesus in first century Palestine.  The world is in need of ‘preservation’ – is in need of something to protect it from ‘spoiling’ – from ‘decay’, from ‘corruption’.  The absorption with worldly possessions and power, displacing love of God and neighbour, this is the true corruption or spoilage of humanity in the world.  Jesus tells his disciples – all of his disciples; from St. Matthew’s audience to us today – that we are to be that ‘salt’ – that ‘preservative’; influencing all people for good, by our lived example in coming to know and love the One True God. 

But there’s a caution here in being called ‘salt’; in essence, Jesus is saying, “you are my disciples – go be a sign of my love to others, and don’t give up; persist and persevere. “

Because like salt, if we lose our ‘flavour’, the interior zeal for God that gives us purpose, then we lose our effectiveness.  And if we have lost our effectiveness, then, Jesus asks, how can we authentically spread the Gospel, the good news of the kingdom of God? 

That can sound rather daunting – but that is why we need to keep these two metaphors of salt and light together in this particular passage. 

We may feel at times that it’s almost a lost cause to keep struggling with living the Gospel in our world – in a world that is increasingly hostile to the Church, to Christ, to God Himself.  How can we each persevere and persist in trying to participate in Jesus’ mission of salvation for all people, when the world doesn’t seem to want or care about God?  How can we be authentic disciples in the midst of this?

Because Jesus tells us that not only are we the salt of the earth…He calls His followers the light of the world; he paints a picture with words of a city on a hill that cannot be hidden; of a lamp lit on a stand giving light to a whole room – those things which give light in the midst of the darkness cannot be contained; their light always shines forth.

The love of God cannot be contained…it will shine forth, whether we want it to or not….it can’t be concealed, but will show itself in all sorts of wondrous ways in our own lives and encounters with others.

All we have to do is think of a time we have been in love.  We might deny that there is anything different about us, but those around us, particularly those who know us well, will say there is something different about us; how we react when a ‘certain someone’ comes up in conversation; when we are in the company of that ‘special person’; love always reaches out beyond the one in love.

It is the same when we open ourselves to the love of God; the love we have for God will transform our interior life, which in turn will transform our exterior actions; This transformation will become self-evident in the love we have for those around us: it will increasingly show in our words and actions.

Then we will bring light to the world; we will be the salt of the earth – maybe not in grand, dramatic gestures; but at the very least to those immediately around us in our own small circle – and living as authentic sons and daughters of God, all we have to do is bring that light to just one other person; because that light will spread – it’s the nature of light against the darkness.

One of my favourite saints, St. Catherine of Siena, summed it up quite nicely this way,

“If you are what God intends you to be, you will set the whole world on fire…” 

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever!

4th Sunday Ordinary Time ( Year A )

It seems from our youth we are conditioned to want to be part of the ‘in’ crowd.  To somehow be part of a closed and select group of people that influence others, that are looked up to, that control and direct the opinions and actions of others – primarily for our own or the group’s benefit.  Our culture and society somehow lead us to believe that what we really want is to be one of the ‘cool’ kids in adolescence, either by fashion or music choices; we want to be an ‘insider’ in the corporate world, grabbing that bigger bonus and promotion; we want to be in that particular social clique that influences anything from politics to the brand of soap people buy.  And the principal reason for belonging to this exclusive group is to feel good about ourselves, to have a sense of power over others; that this group gives us purpose and substance.

In this mindset, we somehow have come to reflect a belief that we are insignificant and our lives lack meaning if we are not part of some influential and affluent group.  We have allowed ourselves to believe that we are somehow small and weak and value-less if we don’t ‘belong’ to a powerful or elite group.  This is a lie that our culture has not only ‘bought into’, but has spread throughout our society – particularly to our young. 

This is a lie which puts conditions on love and acceptance; on the worth and :value of human life; of the dignity of each person; and is completely counter to the values of the Gospel of Christ and the teachings of the Church.  Christ taught us, and the Church continues this teaching, that we are all sons and daughters of the One God, who loves us unconditionally, and that as such, we have a value that cannot be measured by the standards that this world sets for us.

Contrast that mindset of what the world considers to be ‘privileged’ or ‘blessed’ with what Jesus himself relates in today’s passage from St. Matthew’s account of what has been called ‘the sermon on the mount’ or ‘the beatitudes’.

In every one of these eight beatitudes, Jesus points to the characteristics that his true disciples would exhibit.  None of these is particularly attractive to human nature, and our culture almost screams out to us not to lean towards any of  these characteristics – we don’t want to be poor, even in spirit; we don’t want to mourn – we tell those who do to ‘move on’ or ‘get over it’; we don’t want to be meek –rather we seek to be assertive and claim what is our ‘due’; hungering for righteousness can sound a little too radical ; mercy is equated with weakness; purity of heart sounds naïve; peacemakers have to get their hands dirty ; and honestly, who in their right mind would want to be persecuted?  Yet, Jesus tells us that these characteristics are exactly what is expected of his disciples if they would embrace him and inherit the kingdom of God.   This journey of faith, of returning to complete and total relationship with God is not something for the faint of heart, or the worldly-minded. 

The beatitudes remind us that as followers of Christ, we cannot simply sit still, be content with our own spirituality or lack thereof, and let the world take care of itself.  If we would truly seek to be blessed, then there is interior movement and exterior action required of us:

To see God, we must be pure of heart – cleansing our own hearts of disordered desires and clinging possessiveness of this world; and desiring only to love God; not for a hope of reward or fear of punishment – but only because we desire to love the One who loved us first.

To be satisfied when we hunger and thirst for righteousness, we cannot simply sit back and complain about the state of affairs in an unjust world or situation; when we see people being treated unjustly – unfairly – it is up to each of us to speak out and defend those being unjustly treated, whether on a global scale or in our own workplaces or schoolyards.

To obtain mercy, we must first show mercy –often showing mercy to those who have treated us personally in a most unkind, uncharitable, or even cruel way, not exacting revenge or demanding retribution.  We cannot exhort others to be merciful, to ‘just get along’ if we are not able to do that even in our own daily lives.  Being a peacemaker often means making unpopular decisions, often unpopular with both sides of a disagreement…just ask any parent who has to settle a quarrel between their children.

None of these is easy; none of these is exactly front and centre in our own minds when we think of belonging to an influential group; but these blessings belong to those who enter into that relationship with God and put on the mind of Christ.  God will give the grace necessary to persevere and pursue each and every one of these beatitudes.  All we need do, is enter prayerfully into dialogue with God – if we are serious about opening our selves to His love. 

And prayer is the key here; recognizing that we do not pray in isolation, but we offer up our prayers and petitions for others and ourselves with all others who earnestly seek the face of God; those present among us, those throughout the world who join their prayers to ours; even those who have gone on before us and are now praying in the presence of God Himself;

This is the real ‘in crowd’ – the real group of ‘insiders’ we should aspire to be part of: those who are and have been in right-relationship with God.

The Church has a name for this ‘in’ crowd.  It’s called the communion of saints; and it’s open to everyone.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever!