Monday, March 17, 2025

Monday of the Second Week in Lent

Firemen burn grass at Mount Saint Francis
to revive the prairie.
Lectionary: 230

We have sinned, been wicked and done evil;
we have rebelled and departed from your commandments and your laws.
We have not obeyed your servants the prophets,
who spoke in your name to our kings, our princes,
our fathers, and all the people of the land.
Justice, O Lord, is on your side....


 P  ious sinners that we are, we are continually tempted to stand with God and against our fellow men and women. We might not go as far as the Pharisee who prayed, "I thank you God that I am not like the rest of men...." But we might not say, "There is my brother. There is my sister." 

Adam tried to weasel his way out of guilt by first blaming his wife and then implying it was God's fault to start with! "The woman you gave me...!" 

Jesus took his stand not on God's side but with us, and would pray like the Prophet Daniel, "Justice, O Lord, is on your side....

As we practice the virtue of Penance, and undertake its practices, we begin not by trying to isolate ourselves from others, and our sins from theirs. Rather, we pray;
We have sinned, been wicked and done evil;
we have rebelled and departed from your commandments and your laws.
We have not obeyed your servants the prophets,
who spoke in your name to our kings, our princes,
our fathers, and all the people of the land.

We do penance together; it's not an isolated exercise. As Catholics we should pray daily, practice works of Charity, and abstain from meat on Fridays during Lent, and abstain from excessive food on Wednesdays and Friday. It may not seem like much but if we're doing this together no one has to stand apart from others. If they do they're liable to that secret prayer of the Pharisee. 

Have mercy on us, O Lord.
Parce Domine. Parce Populo tuo. Ne in aeternum, irascaris nobis
"Spare, Lord, spare your people: Be not angry with us forever"



Sunday, March 16, 2025

Second Sunday of Lent

Lectionary: 27

Our citizenship is in heaven,
and from it we also await a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.
He will change our lowly body
to conform with his glorified body....


 F ather Vincent has recently brought to the Mount’s galleria a collection of new icons written by several religious women in Kentucky and Indiana. We have seen in the last century a reawakening of devotion to these extraordinary images, and their power to reintroduce us to the Lord and his saints. Although they come from the eastern rites of the Catholic communion with their mysticism and ancient majesty, icons appeal to the western world. We have been overwhelmed and sated  by mundane, ugly pictures both secular and religious. They have little depth, meaning, or authority; we should not even glance at some of them. Icons invite us to gaze into them with a sense of wonder which becomes sorrow for our sins, gratitude for the gift of heavenly love, and joy in the Sacred Presence of Mystery.

They have been described as windows into eternity. Gazing upon an icon we find the Lord, his Mother Mary, or one of their fellow citizens gazing back at us with understanding, compassion, and intense love. We might also hear within our hearts the icon's invitation to come in through its narrow gate, and enter that eternal city. We are no longer aliens there, but citizens. 

Today's story of the Lord's conversation with two citizens of heaven, Moses and Elijah, has inspired thousands of icons; and may be the original inspiration of all icons. The disciples suddenly found themselves in the presence of three transcendent visitors from another dimension within God's created universe. They had apparently fallen asleep at the very window of heaven, or perhaps at the foot of Jacob's stairway to heaven. 

We can forgive them for thinking they should capture the moment and establish a shrine with three tents. Perhaps the whole world could come to this place to encounter the holiness, mystery, and wonderful joy of eternal life. 

It is a rush for the Lord's hapless disciples as they awaken, not from a sleep, but a trance, an Abrahamic rapture. You remember that...
As the sun was about to set, a trance fell upon Abram, and a deep, terrifying darkness enveloped him.

Perhaps the Father of faith and the disciples of Jesus had to fall asleep to our world before they could have even a momentary glimpse of eternity. Christians also must periodically turn away from the things of this world – or fall asleep to them – to contemplate heavenly glory. Without that vision of eternity, without the memory of our past and the promise of our future, we have no reason to call ourselves Christian, and nothing to say to the citizens of this world. If we are citizens only of this world and not of the Kingdom of God we are salt that has lost its taste, and might be thrown out and trampled underfoot. 

Every year, on the second Sunday of Lent, we hear this story of the Lord’s transfiguration; and it's always accompanied by a story about Abraham, our founder in faith.  After the startling sign of Ash Wednesday and the mark of sorrow, grief, and penance on our foreheads; after the reminders that we should fast, pray, and give alms, the transfiguration gives us a sweeping vision of all time: from beginning to end; from Abraham's vision to the Exodus from Egypt, to the Lord's crucifixion in Jerusalem – which Saint Luke calls an exodus –  to that day... 
When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, to sit upon his glorious throne, with all the nations assembled before him.

On that day, every citizens of earth will recognize God’s beloved son and and they will listen to his voice. They will eagerly hear his judgment; some will be overwhelmed with joy, gratitude, and relief; others will be stricken with horror.

The transfiguration reminds us that we are not citizens of this world, despite whatever patriotic feelings we might have for this or any particular nation. As Saint Paul said, We have our citizenship in heaven and we look with longing through Icons to see our homeland. 

Because we do not aspire to be wealthy in this world we don't pore over the Conde Nast Traveler or Global Living Magazine. Because we do not dream of glory in the Wonderful World of Sports we have no need to gaze through the pixels to learn about March Madness, or who’s playing for the Cincinnati Reds. Because we do not dream of keg parties and orgies, we purge and purify our imaginations of pornography and pray that icons might heal its scars.

Pope Saint Gregory the Great described a citizen of heaven: 
The blameless and upright one fears God and turns away from evil. Those who seek the eternal country surely live a blameless and upright life. They are blameless in their deeds, upright in their faith; blameless in the good actions they perform here on earth, upright in the lofty ideals they perceive deep within themselves.

We have heard Our Father in heaven demand that we know and recognize his beloved son. Jesus is the new Moses who gives us our new law of life; he is the prophet Elijah who speaks a fiery word of judgment and purges a nation of tyranny and idolatry.  We have heard the Father command us to listen to Jesus as we make our pilgrimage toward Holy Week, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. 

Saturday, March 15, 2025

Saturday of the First Week of Lent

Lectionary: 229

And today the LORD is making this agreement with you:
you are to be a people peculiarly his own, as he promised you....


 A s I listen to people I have noticed that one of the most important teachings of the Second Vatican Council is starting to be heard in the pews of our churches. Catholics have noticed, especially since the ascendance of a real estate huckster to the presidency of the United States, that we must be a people set apart and peculiarly his own. 

The immediate Catholic reaction of events in the 1960s -- including the presidency of John F Kennedy, the domineering prosperity of the nation, and the arrival of Catholics in educated, middle class America -- was to suppose that "the world" and the Church agreed with one another on the essentials. We support the equality of all men and women; and would provide education and opportunity for everyone. We prefer capitalism to communism; and recognize ownership of property, and the rights and dignity of all races and religions. Who could argue with those principles? 

But by the time Karol Józef Wojtyła became Pope John Paul II, the world was already going another direction. Education and opportunity were no longer as open to minorities and the poor, neither in the United States nor in "third world countries." While America gave school-age children laptops computers, children in poor nations had no chalk for their blackboards. Greed was good on Wall Street. Only reluctantly were some debtor nations allowed to default on loans which had been eagerly given to their corrupt leaders. 

But the corruption we tolerated in those "less developed nations" has metastasized; and in this 21st century even the United States is fascinated by the promises of tyranny. As W.B.Yeats wrote in 1920:

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst   
Are full of passionate intensity. 

Catholics are starting to realize that we are to be "a people peculiarly his own." We do not abort our infants; we do not engage in premarital sex, adultery, or divorce. We believe in marriage, sexuality, and the complementarity of men and women. We love our bodies as they are, and have no need to alter them in any significant way. Recognizing their roots in human arrogance and philosophical determinism, Catholicism shuns ideologies of every sort. We not only believe there is such a thing as Truth, we believe in truth and its right to intrude in human affairs. 

We are a holy people and have been sent as a blessing by God himself to the nations of this world. We are patriotic but not nationalistic, we fear the groupthink of partisanship. We have seen nations and empires rise and fall but we are still here to offer comfort to the world's victims. 

The season of Lent especially sets us apart. We sport ashes on Ash Wednesday and prepare our hearts for the drama, grief, and mystery of Holy Week even as we anticipate the astonishing, unexpected triumph of Easter. That will be for us a most undeserved triumph, and an unparalleled victory for the one Savior and Lord whom we know, touch, love, trust, and believe in. Let the nations rage as we sing: 

Worthy is the Lamb that was slain
to receive power and riches, wisdom and strength,
honor and glory and blessing.” (Revelations 5:12)

Friday, March 14, 2025

Friday of the First Week of Lent

Lectionary: 228

I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees,
you will not enter into the Kingdom of heaven.
“You have heard that it was said to your ancestors, 'You shall not kill; and whoever kills will be liable to judgment.'
But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother....

 J esus hammers at our preconceptions about righteousness and morality with his repetition of the formula: "You have heard it said.... But I say to you...." 

We are to understand that he sets the standards of our morality, and they surpass whatever we might think is normal, good enough, or passable. Good enough will never satisfy the God who calls us to be holy as He is holy; for his generosity, patience, mercy, and courage are -- in a word -- infinite. And ours are not. 

I understand that metalsmiths in ancient Damascus discovered how to make steel from iron and their steel swords were legendary. (Someone can correct me if I'm wrong.) The smith poured iron into a sword-shaped mold and hammered it flat as it cooled. Then, while it was still malleable, folded in in half and hammered it again. And then folded that in half and hammered it again. Repeatedly. They had found that steel is stronger and holds its sharpness longer for being folded in half; and its strength increased exponentially -- a literal use of that word -- each time they folded it. 

A really valuable sword might have been folded and hammered repeatedly a hundred times; and in the hands of a skilled swordsman could shatter the swords, shield, helmet, and armor of any opponent. 

So Jesus, who intends to hammer us until we are the very image of the unimaginably Holy God, continually turns us back upon ourselves with encouragement and rebuke. No sooner do we think we are the very loveliness of God than we hear his rueful remark, "You are dust and to dust you shall return." 

And when we have absorbed that thought and recognized the guilt, shame, and enormity of our sins; and turned to his mercy again -- we hear the encouraging words of absolution:
God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and poured out the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the church may God grant you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, (+) and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

The Lord's command that we surpass the righteousness of the Pharisees means we will never be comfortable with satisfactory; nor dissatisfied with disappointment. Surpassing is reconciliation with the process of God's merciful, diligent, and continual refinement. As the scriptures say, 

Malachi 3:3: The Lord is a refiner and purifier of silver 
Isaiah 48:10: God tests people in the furnace of affliction 
Job 23:10: People come forth as gold after being tested by God 
Psalm 66:10: God refines people like silver 
Zechariah 13:9: We shall be refined silver and tested gold 










Thursday, March 13, 2025

Thursday of the First Week in Lent

 Lectionary: 227

Ask and it will be given to you;
seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds;
and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.

 I f you can still bear to watch the daily news; and see so many dreadful things happening; and see that the present policies of many governments are only making it worse: you may decide to stop watching altogether. You might resort to a wilderness of principled solitude where you can pray that God sends his Judge with an army of angels to save you -- and soon!

In the face of an impending holocaust, Queen Esther resorted to prayer but she wasn't seeking her private deliverance from the coming catastrophe. She had to save her people, and only she could do it. 

But she also knew her helplessness amid the absurd -- comically absurd -- structures of her world, and that only God could make a difference. 

Ironically, God does not appear in the Book of Esther; the book narrates only the work and words of ordinary mortals. When salvation comes, it comes by way of Esther's bold initiative. After intense prayer and fasting, she dolls up in her finest, most attractive royal clothes and places herself where no man can ignore her. She knocks on no door but she opens one: 
Now on the third day, Esther put on her royal garments and stood in the inner courtyard, looking toward the royal palace, while the king was seated on his royal throne in the audience chamber, facing the palace doorway.
When he saw Queen Esther standing in the courtyard, she won his favor and he extended toward her the golden scepter he held. She came up to him, and touched the top of the scepter.]
Then the king said to her, “What is it, Queen Esther? What is your request? Even if it is half of my kingdom, it shall be granted to you." (Esther 5:1-3)

The latest stories to appear in the Hebrew Scriptures (most of which comprise the "Old Testament," are fascinating for the non-appearance of God. At best he moves people through dreams. The long story of Joseph tagged onto the end of Genesis, and the books of Tobit and Judith, say nothing about God's activity. They are stories of courageous persons who pray, trust their intuitions, and take action. None of them can know whether the Lord approves or disapproves of their decision; they certainly cannot control what consequences might follow. But they act. 

The Church tells innumerable stories of witnesses -- we call them martyrs -- who met severe disapproval by this world's standards and, with their dying breath, could only hope that God blessed their boldness. In some cases, later generations of Christian critics actually disapprove of those ancient initiatives. Were those crusaders who died in their assault on Jerusalem martyrs or fools? We certainly cannot endorse the suicide bombers who oppose tyrants in Asian and African capitals. They kill innocent people in churches, markets, and shopping centers. But they think they're martyrs. 

Many Christians, far from positions of power, worry anxiously whether their silent, idle disapproval of fellow Christians might be mortal sins and incur God's eternal wrath. Esther had no time for scruples. Judith knew she had to lie and deceive Holofernes before she killed him in his drunken sleep -- regardless of what anyone might think of lying, deceiving, and beheading. (The Divine Author discreetly passes over any other sins she might have committed with him.) Nor did these men and women worry that God might not approve of their actions. They did what they had to do, and let God think about it.

Jesus also knew that terrible silence during his last hours.  

In today's gospel the Lord urges us to pray persistently: 
Ask and it will be given to you;
seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you.

When it is given to us; when we find what we're looking for; when the door opens: we'll pass through it.

Wednesday, March 12, 2025

Wednesday of the First Week in Lent

Lectionary: 226

Set out for the great city of Nineveh,
and announce to it the message that I will tell you.""
So Jonah made ready and went to Nineveh,
according to the LORD's bidding.

 C an an entire city, from its king to the animals in its stalls, repent of their sins and turn back to the Lord? Can a church or nation do this? And if it did, would it make a difference? 

Jonah is an amusing fiction of a reluctant prophet's unexpected success where he hoped to fail. Remembering the long history of Nineveh's Assyrian cruelty to its small neighbor, Jerusalem, he saw no reason why he or God should forgive them. So when commanded him to go east and announce God's merciful justice, he went west. 

But, as we all know, the Lord prevailed and, to Jonah's dismay, the entire city repented and the Lord was pleased. And amused by the prophet's disappointment. He gave him a chance to change his attitude -- 

"Should I not be concerned over the great city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who cannot know their right hand from their left, not to mention all the animals?”

The story ends like the Prodigal Son, and we do not know if Jonah was ever reconciled with God's mercy. But it's not hard to find ourselves in a similar predicament. Which of us in this polarized century does not expect and hope the Wrath will descend upon our enemies? They should at least see how stupid and wicked they are. 

But we pray daily and many times a day, "Hallowed be thy name! Thy kingdom come!" According to the Lord's Prayer our concern is the Glory of God -- “Ad majorem Dei gloriam” as the Jesuits like to say: "for the greater glory of God." With that prayer we set aside our own concerns, as great or petty as they might be, to prefer the promise and longing for God's kingdom. 

Whether God's kingdom arrives in fire, flood, disease, and catastrophe or by healing, reconciliation, mercy, and joy is not our concern. Whether God's salvation arrives piecemeal, one by one for individuals only; or for entire cities and nations -- as unlikely as that seems -- is again none of our concern. 

We should only stand with all creation, eager, expectant, and hopeful -- on tiptoe like a child watching a parade -- 
For creation awaits with eager expectation the revelation of the children of God;
for creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord but because of the one who subjected it, in hope
that creation itself would be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God. (Romans 8: 19-21)

It will happen. Watch for it! 

Tuesday, March 11, 2025

Tuesday of the First Week of Lent

Lectionary: 225

In praying, do not babble like the pagans,
who think that they will be heard because of their many words.
Do not be like them.

 S ometimes, in my impatient unkindness, I have thought that my fellow priests babble like the pagans and think the congregation might hear them because of their many words. I try not to be like them -- for the most part.

But I do think one homily per Mass is enough, and sometimes more than enough. No one in the church needs to be told at great length that today is Christmas. We know the Our Father; we don't need a reminder, explanation of, or exposition about the Lord's Prayer before we recite it.   

To hear anything we need silence. The finest orchestra in the world cannot play a symphony if there's a passing freight train just behind the hall. To say anything intelligent or important, we must begin from a silent place, and speak to silent people. Their silence must be more than their closed mouths; it should be a silence of the mind which wants to hear, understand, and sympathize with the speaker. Silence reserves judgment; it doesn't parse sentences, pounce on mispronunciations or misspellings, look for double entendres, or quibble about precise statistics. 

Silence is a vacuum that wants to be filled with the speaker's knowledge plus knowledge of the speaker. I might not know what you're saying if I don't know where you're coming from. "Who are you? Speak to me!" 

When you pray, do not be like the pagans who create their own idols and then tell them what they should say and do. 

Our prayer begins with the reassurance of our Father's concern and compassionate interest. He knows our needs, but we will receive no favors without opening a silent place large enough to receive them. 

And so we begin with a right disposition. That is, we are disposed; we have readiness and are available to whatever we might be given by our Father.

It helps to begin by remembering my life is not all about me; nor is it about my wants, preferences, opinions, needs, concerns, or worries. Sometimes it takes several minutes to put all that aside and remember that I am in the Presence of the Almighty God.  That's okay! Take your time. He has all the time in the world! 

My life is about God. It's about Our Father, and Hallowed be thy name! Ezekiel prophesied the Lord's concern that His holy people, scattered throughout the nations, had become an embarrassment to him. The nations were laughing at God and mocking His name because the people were neither holy nor righteous. And they were forgetting His Name! Their children were mingling among the nations and invoking their pagan gods! 

But I will show the holiness of my great name, desecrated among the nations, in whose midst you desecrated it. Then the nations shall know that I am the LORD... when through you I show my holiness before their very eyes.
I will take you away from among the nations, gather you from all the lands, and bring you back to your own soil.  (Ezekiel 36: 23-24)

In silence, I hear and revere the Name of God. From the silence of my heart, I open my heart that He might see what I truly need, which may be more than my words can express or the mind, comprehend. "Your Father knows what you need before you ask him!" 

Be still and know that I am God. 

Monday, March 10, 2025

Monday of the First Week of Lent

Lectionary: 224

When the Son of Man comes in his glory,
and all the angels with him,
he will sit upon his glorious throne,
and all the nations will be assembled before him.
And he will separate them one from another,
as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.
He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

 A lthough the appellation meant only that one is an ordinary fellow, and might use it to refer to himself, Jesus so often spoke of himself as the son of man that the Evangelists used it only of him. But there is still a certain irony in this ordinary fellow coming in glory, calling the entire human race to stand before him, and then separating them into two groups, the wicked and the just. 

Who is this guy? Where's he from, and where did he get this right to judge me and my buddies? As readers of Saint Matthew, we might also wonder what his glory means. Will he be enormous like a giant sitting on his throne? (He's often represented that way, as in the National Basilica of the Immaculate Conception.) Or will he simply walk among us and, one by one, tell us which way to go with the assistance of very persuasive angels, as we wonder what this is all about? 

But there is no room in this story for doubt about the authority of the Son of Man,  and the finality of his decision. Not everyone will be happy about it, and just about everyone will be surprised. "When did we see you...?" they'll say.
And he will reply, "When I was helplessly hungry, thirsty, sick, or imprisoned!" 

"Oh." we might say; and perhaps we'll remember. But whether we remember or not, the decision will be made, notwithstanding our questions, objections, and equivocations. The angels will see to the rest. 

This is a problem for many people today. They don't believe anyone should have authority over them. They ardently believe they are the sovereigns of themselves and their bodies, and of everything that happens to them. Even as they stand before a county or city judge they complain that their rights are being violated, and the cops had no right to wrestle them to the ground and haul them away. Many will be less surprised when they find themselves subject to the predations of fellow prisoners. 

Lent reminds us that the Lord God who created the universe does indeed have his eye upon the sparrow and cares about how we treat one another. He hears the cry of the poor, as our Bible insistently reminds us. And we are subject to the judgment of one who was crucified. 

O Lord, have mercy on us who had no mercy on you.


Sunday, March 9, 2025

First Sunday of Lent

Lectionary: 24

No evil shall befall you,
            nor shall affliction come near your tent,
For to his angels he has given command about you,
            that they guard you in all your ways.

A psych ward Veteran asked me to sit down with him as he told me the story of his conversion to Jesus. He spoke of the usual trials of all young Americans who must make hard choices about themselves, their recreation and their fun, and the decision to grow up. But what he especially wanted to tell me about was Psalm 91, the same prayer which we heard sung today as our responsorial Psalm:

He will rescue you from the fowler’s snare,

from the destroying plague,

He will shelter you with his pinions,

and under his wings you may take refuge;

his faithfulness is a protecting shield.

You shall not fear the terror of the night

nor the arrow that flies by day, (vss 3-5)

He read this passage with intense emotion and great joy, and I remembered that many soldiers have carried small copies of the Psalm in past wars as they met the enemy in Europe and the South Pacific, in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan, in Colombia and Nicaragua and Cuba. And I remembered my own story of Psalm 91. 


When COVID-19 swept the nation the hospitals especially suffered. Already strained by the aging Baby Boom, nurses, doctors, therapists, and housekeepers struggled to maintain the standards of care that are both necessary and expected of them. Many hospital staff got sick, and some of them died. I was a chaplain at the Louisville VA through it all, and Washington decreed that no VA chaplain should enter the room of any COVID patient under any circumstance. If the patient was conversant we could speak to them from our offices by telephone; or, possibly, through a window and with our cell phones. 


However, the directive came rather late and I had already been smocking with all the necessary PPE -- personal protective equipment -- to visit Catholic patients, anoint them, talk with those who could, stay with those who couldn't, and give them rosaries and other Catholic literature. I heard the chief chaplain's instructions to all of us and said nothing; it was several weeks before the busy man discovered what I was doing. 


He was outraged, as were several other chaplains, and they complained that I was imperiling all of them. I reminded them that, as a priest, I could not give communion or hear confessions without meeting the patient face to face. I could not anoint the sick without touching their foreheads and hands. I reminded them of Psalm 91:

You shall not fear the terror of the night

nor the arrow that flies by day,

Nor the pestilence that roams in darkness,

nor the plague that ravages at noon.

Though a thousand fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

near you it shall not come.

The chaplains were not impressed by my job description and Psalm 91, and the Chief Chaplain called Washington to ask what he should do about me. I happened to know the executive director of all the chaplains in the VA; she had been on the chaplain staff with us in Louisville for a while. J___ told the Chief, "Let Father Ken do his job!" 

No evil shall befall you,

no affliction come near your tent.

For he commands his angels with regard to you,

to guard you wherever you go.

Jesus quoted the same Psalm 91 when Satan confronted him, 

‘With their hands they will support you,

lest you dash your foot against a stone.’


Psalm 91 was the Lord’s disposition as he prayed in the desert. The man from Galilee had cast his lot with the Lord God. He relied on God to provide him with whatever the wilderness might provide, and the courage to bear hunger and thirst. In the desert, he would always say yes to whatever God required of him. 


But today’s gospel reminds us also that Jesus said No to three major opportunities despite their potential for enormous good. To most people they would appear very good. He could provide an endless supply of food and provisions. He could command the nations. As the Messiah he could rule the souls of men, women, and children with unquestioned religious and spiritual authority. 


But he refused these powers regardless of the good that might come from them. Although God had fed his ancestors with meat, manna, and water in the wilderness for forty years, he would not be godlike and change stones into bread. If the world is hungry for bread, it would not come from him.  


He refused political power when Satan offered him all the kingdoms of the earth. He could have controlled the military and stopped all wars. He could make laws, regulate the economy, inspire the arts and sciences, govern the schools, and make this world a bearably pleasant place. He would put a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage; he would create a worker’s paradise. 


Some time later Jesus told the story of the faithful servants who shared their master’s joy! But he would not accept the perks, privileges, and rewards of kings, presidents, governors, senators, and mayors. 


And finally, he refused the most seductive power of all, the power of religion. If the governor rules the outer world, the Messiah/Christ/priest controls the inner world, the soul. He can tell people whether they are in sin or in grace. He can dole out anxiety and relief, guilt and innocence, salvation and damnation, depending on whether they obey or disobey him. The Messiah who floats down from the parapet of the temple on the hands of angels can ease or dis-ease souls. If he serves himself first in that most secret, most private place, the human heart, the hurt will be immeasurable; the scandal, inestimable; and the damage irreparable.


Jesus would have none of it. Power frees no one; and the freedom which power is supposed

 to give is Satan’s most seductive trap. Economic, political, and religious powers are the deepest prisons of our souls.

 

Jesus waited on God’s benevolence as he suffered hunger for forty days in the desert; and by that he chose the freedom to become what God the Father had made him to be in the manner which the Father would determine. He would know God as any human being knows God, by faith; and as a son knows his father. He would show us God the Father, and that is sufficient for us.


He followed the Spirit’s lead and healed some who were sick, raised some of the dead, comforted some of the afflicted. But in the end he read Psalm 91 and relied on God’s mercy. He would know the shame of the helpless and the guilt of sinners. He would hang nakedly before God with nothing more than his belief that the Father would not forget him.

Saturday, March 8, 2025

Saturday after Ash Wednesday

Lectionary: 222

"Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do.
I have not come to call the righteous to repentance but sinners."

 W ith the end of February and the promise of March, we can stow the warmest clothing, thickest gloves, and heaviest coats of the last two months. There may be some chilly days ahead but they won't have the threat of worse to come. 

With the onset of Lent we can also stow our images as good, worthy, capable, qualified persons who are eminently worth knowing. We can leave that pile at the entrance of our churches, and not collect them again upon leaving. 

We hear with relief the Lord's declaration, "I have not come to call the righteous but sinners." We have known all along, though unwilling to admit, that we aren't really fit to be called righteous. There is just too much involved in that standing before God. Plus, the pretense before one's enemies, neighbors, colleagues, friends, and family -- especially the family because they know entirely too much -- that pretense is too heavy. It's tiresome, boring, and stifling. It goes nowhere and creates nothing. 

Sinners have no secrets and remember everything. Concerning that which they don't remember, others may remind them. My sister -- voluntarily and unasked -- once polished my shoes with liquid polish. When she told me about it, I told her it's better to use wax. 
What a jerk! 
She told me about my unkindness several years later, when she saw me dabbing liquid polish on my shoes. What could I say? 
What I did say was, "That sounds like something I would do. I'm sorry." 

Reconciliation rooms look like closets. (Newer ones are larger closets.) Perhaps that's where we should stow those old images. Or keep them in storage bins, since no one ever reuses that stuff anyway. Or give them to Saint Vincent de Paul or Goodwill, where some unfortunate souls might find use for them. 

It is good to confess one's sins, and to pray, 
"Lord, I have done that which is like what I am, nor can anything else be expected at my hands but these and the like transgressions; nor had I stopped here, but plunged myself further into all wickedness, if thy goodness had permitted it, and left me wholly to myself. 
I give thee infinite thanks that thou didst not thus leave me, and for what I have done I am sorry. Pardon me for thy own sake, and for what thou art, and give me grace to offend thee no more, but admit me again to the favor of thy friendship."


(This prayer is found in chapter 16 of John of Bonilla's Pax Anima, which I have. transcribed as a page on this blog. You may find the entire treatise listed with collects of March and Lent, at the upper right of this page,) 

Friday, March 7, 2025

Friday after Ash Wednesday

 Lectionary: 221

"Why do we fast, and you do not see it?
afflict ourselves, and you take no note of it?"


 E ach year, on this Friday after Ash Wednesday, the Church offers scripture passages concerning the first of our penitential practices, fasting. We were reminded of all three on Wednesday: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. 

The plaintiffs in today's passage from Isaiah want to see the results of their fasting. They should feel at least that God has noticed. 

I suppose many of us enter Lent with some expectation of shedding a few pounds and perhaps gaining a notch on the belt by Easter. It rarely happens but, as the Catholic poet Alexander Pope said, "Hope which springs eternal within the human breast. Man never is but always to be blest." 

Like Isaiah's contemporaries, pragmatic Americans want results. But they are not forthcoming from our invisible, silently sovereign God. 

A spiritual director suggested to me two results of prayer that one might observe: you want to pray again; your moods and dispositions improve. You might be less irritable, more patient, more content. You might be. Watch for it. 

And you might be disappointed. On this dynamic planet of earthquakes, tsunamis, forest fires, plagues, droughts, hurricanes, politics, economics, and war -- upsetting things can always happen. There are no guarantees. 

Fasting, prayer, and almsgiving are acts of faith before the sovereign Majesty of God. They are presented hopefully in the Presence of the God who owes us nothing but gives us everything. 

Where we find the corruption of expectation in our own attitudes, we must place gratitude. Pure and simple gratitude. If it helps you might count your blessings instead of sheep. But mental gymnastics can get tiresome while unchecked songs of praise, glory, honor, blessing, and thanksgiving flow. They have no particular purpose either, but like prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, they are good. 

 


Thursday, March 6, 2025

Thursday after Ash Wednesday

Lectionary: 220

Today I have set before you
life and prosperity, death and doom.
If you obey the commandments of the LORD, your God,
which I enjoin on you today,
loving him, and walking in his ways,
and keeping his commandments, statutes and decrees,
you will live and grow numerous,
and the LORD, your God,
will bless you in the land you are entering to occupy.

 L ong before America's several "Great Awakenings," there was humankind's "Great Transformation," a story explored in Karen Armstrong's book of that name. As goods were exchanged from India and China to the Mediterranean basin, ideas moved even more freely. 

Discovering that every town and village had its own religious practices and notions, some speculated that there might be universal principles for everyone; that there might be "two ways." They are good and evil. Unlike that of other animals, human behavior can be assessed as good or wicked. Seeing that our decisions and actions have consequences, good behavior can lead to satisfying results, and wicked often does not. 

If the rewards or penalties of our behavior are not immediately apparent, the gods may be interfering or intervening in the process; or they might have decided to withhold judgment for a while. They might be playing with us as people play with pets. 

Amid this "Great Transformation," there appeared the Jewish religion. Historians can compare and contrast the various religions, as they still do with collegiates in "comparative religion" classes. The Lord's faithful people, however, know there is no comparison. God has spoken to his Chosen People through Abraham, Moses, and Jesus Christ. He speaks to us through the Church, "in partial and various ways." He also guides our hearts in the quiet of our private devotions. 

And he insistently sets the two ways before us: "life and prosperity, death and doom." If those consequences are not immediately apparent; if 
"the wicked scorn God, and say in their hearts, “God does not care”
He will...  
...take note of misery and sorrow;
[He will] take the matter in hand.
"To you [God,] the helpless can entrust their cause;
you are the defender of orphans.
Break the arm of the wicked and depraved;
make them account for their crimes;
let none of them survive! (Psalm 10: 14)

Because we also believe that, after his crucifixion, the Father raised Jesus from the dead and gave him universal authority to judge the living and the dead, we believe the just will be rewarded with eternal bliss in God's presence, despite whatever suffering they endured on earth. 

We also believe the Judge will condemn the wicked, regardless of their wealth and high position in this life, to an endless punishment. (Acts 24:15, Daniel 12:2, and John 5:28-29) It may be no more severe than eternal regret for lost opportunities, or it may be worse. That is in God's merciful and just hands. 

No matter how we might imagine the afterlife and the resurrection of the dead, Catholics believe that God has set before us 
...life and prosperity, death and doom.
If you obey the commandments of the LORD, your God,
which I enjoin on you today,
loving him, and walking in his ways,
and keeping his commandments, statutes and decrees,
you will live and grow numerous....


Wednesday, March 5, 2025

Ash Wednesday 2025

Lectionary: 219

We implore you on behalf of Christ,
be reconciled to God.
For our sake he made him to be sin who did not know sin,
so that we might become the righteousness of God in him.
Working together, then,
we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain.

 S aint Paul uses very strong verbs, implore and appeal; words which a beggar might use before a severe judge or an unkind king. The Apostles is trying to persuade us to live as the people of God. 

We do not expect a fellow whom we regard as a social equal to use such language. A friend might ask us to heed his advice. He might push his opinions at us; and might even demonstrate serious emotion by shouting or weeping. Frustrated parents might beg their toddlers to eat, but that kind of demonstration only puts adults off unless they regard the imploring appellant as a particular friend and advisor. And even then they suppose he'll settle down soon, and speak more calmly without all the bluster. 

What's more, the Apostle's description of Jesus -- "him to be sin who did not know sin" -- also sounds a bit over the top. Really, Paul," someone might say, "Everybody knows that Jesus was totally innocent. He committed no sin and the Father was both satisfied and pleased with him! He was not a sinner." 

But Saint Paul was convinced that God had assigned guilt and shame to Jesus; and that Jesus voluntarily accepted full responsibility for the sins of his brothers and sisters. "He was not ashamed" to stand with us before God's judgment and wrath.  In his essay about gentiles converting to Christ, he said: 
Christ ransomed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written, “Cursed be everyone who hangs on a tree....” (Galatians 3:13)

If the gentiles seemed cursed, or less favored, because they are not descendants of Abraham, God has cursed His Anointed One for being "hanged on a tree!

Politicians describe political capital as the respect and authority an elected official may have after winning an election. Saint Paul invests all of his apostolic capital when he implores and pleads with us to "be reconciled to God." His insistence that our beloved Savior stands by us and was cursed for our sake must move even a heart of stone. 

Ash Wednesday insistently invites us to take up the cross and follow the homeless Lord to Calvary. With him, we must follow the aliens from Eden, Adam and Eve. Like Jesus, we go with Cain who was banished from the ground, and  a constant wanderer on the earth. Anyone might kill us at sight (Genesis 4:14.) 

We will not be reassured by our righteousness or innocence. We have renounced those worthless baubles as Mardi Gras turned to Ash Wednesday. Our sole comfort will be the companionship of our Penitent Shepherd.