Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

 

Lectionary: 572

“Most blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
And how does this happen to me,
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?

 T here may be unintended irony in the naming of this feast. The word visitation appears only eight times in the New American Bible: six in the Old Testament, and twice in the New. Invariably, the word means God's visit to his people in this world; a visit rich with hope for God's people, but fraught with judgment and doom for many. 

The Book of Wisdom speaks of that joyful day: 

3:7 In the time of their visitation they shall shine, and shall dart about as sparks through stubble;

3:13 -- Yes, blessed is she who, childless and undefiled, knew not transgression of the marriage bed; she shall bear fruit at the visitation of souls.

Sirach's references are also hopeful: 

16:16 Behold, the heavens, the heaven of heavens, the earth and the abyss tremble at his visitation;

and 18:19 Before you are judged, seek merit for yourself, and at the time of visitation you will have a ransom.

1 Peter 2:12 is hopeful: 

Maintain good conduct among the Gentiles, so that if they speak of you as evildoers, they may observe your good works and glorify God on the day of visitation.

But there are frightening references to the Day of God's judgment: 

Wisdom 14:11 Therefore upon even the idols of the nations shall a visitation come, since they have become abominable amid God's works, snares for the souls of men and a trap for the feet of the senseless.

Sirach 2:14  Woe to you who have lost hope! what will you do at the visitation of the LORD! 

and finally, perhaps the most frightening of all:

Luke 19:44 They will smash you to the ground and your children within you, and they will not leave one stone upon another within you because you did not recognize the time of your visitation."

Older Catholics must think of the frightful song from our Latin tradition, "Dies irae, dies illa." It is nineteen verses of gloom and doom, beginning with: 

Day of wrath and doom impending!

David's word with Sibyl's blending,

Heaven and earth in ashes ending!

Given those biblical and liturgical references, it is pleasant to remember the Visitation of Mary in the first chapter of Saint Luke's Gospel. There is no shadow of sadness or fear as the two expectant women share their astonishing good news. Nor is there the least anxiety in their pregnancies for God has promised happy, healthy boys to both of them.

One will

...go before the Lord to prepare his ways,

to give his people knowledge of salvation

through the forgiveness of their sins,

because of the tender mercy of our God

And the other will be 

"...great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father,

and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”

But we should notice this "Visitation" includes both Mary and Jesus. She comes to visit Elizabeth, to share the Good News, while the God yet-to-be-born rests in her Womb. He visits to bring redemption to his people, and to set them free! 

Those who know the story rejoice before the Visitation of the Lamb of God. On that day he will "receive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honor and glory and blessing." (Revelation 5:12-13)

Friday of the Sixth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 295

“Amen, amen, I say to you, you will weep and mourn,
while the world rejoices;
you will grieve, but your grief will become joy.

 Poor Sosthenes! Not even Google can explain why his Jewish brethren beat him up after Gallio dismissed their case. Perhaps he had not sufficiently presented their issues against Paul. Maybe he was too obsequious in the proconsul's presence. But why did they turn their wrath on him? 

As we turn our attention to the Lord's more familiar metaphor in today's reading from Saint John, Sosthenes' plight reminds us of how arbitrary, irrational, and violent we humans can be when we're not directed by the Spirit of God. The vagaries of public outrage against entertainment idols like Bill Cosby, and then politicians like Donald Trump, and then men in powerful business positions like Harvey Weinstein, or police, or men in general: they're all predictably unpredictable, and basically irrational. 

Suddenly the citizenry who shouted hosanna to the Son of David on Sunday became, on Friday, a screaming mob, "We have no king but Caesar! Crucify him! His blood be upon us and upon our children!" 

Even the secular authorities might object, "Why? What evil has he done?" or Gallio's objection, 

"...since it is a question of arguments over doctrine and titles and your own law, see to it yourselves. I do not wish to be a judge of such matters.”

There was a moment, mercifully brief, when many Christians of my acquaintance, became fascinated with "the Holy Ghost," or "the Holy Spirit." Devout persons sometimes did things they considered uncharacteristic of themselves and ascribed it to -- or blamed -- the Holy Ghost. That attribution wasn't much different from Flip Wilson's "The devil made me do it!" 

The Church's tradition speaks with far more respect about the Holy Spirit. It is wise and patient as it escorts us from impetuous youth to prudent adulthood. Adult maturity must be attained; it is not necessarily given to everyone of a certain age. The Spirit teaches us about consequences, and to speak modestly of what we know. The Spirit recognizes the challenge of maturity, and creates institutions of learning and formation so that our youth might arrive there. Married couples who love their children have demonstrated much success in rearing adult children; other experimental forms of family life have yet to prove themselves. 

Adults understand the Lord's metaphor about a woman's childbearing agony in today's gospel, and her joy upon giving birth. We understand that a light appears at the end of every tunnel, but there are more tunnels to come. 

The Holy Spirit teaches us the sober courage and receptive gratitude of Job, who told his scolding wife. 

"We accept good things from the Lord; and should we not accept the bad as well? The Lord gives; the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." 

Thursday of the Sixth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 294

“A little while and you will no longer see me,
and again a little while later and you will see me.”
So some of his disciples said to one another,
“What does this mean that he is saying to us,
‘A little while and you will not see me,
and again a little while and you will see me,’

 T he scriptures seem to delight in riddles; they're very useful for pointing to, and playing with, our foolishness. There is much we will never understand despite our baseless confidence in science, rationality, and experience. The creature should not expect to understand the Creator, anymore than the eye can expect to see itself. It may gaze at a likeness in a mirror but even that knowledge is clouded with uncertainty, for it sees only an appearance of something which resembles other eyes.

The riddle in today's gospel is found in the seven-fold repetition of little while. Jesus insists upon the phrase and the disciples don't know what to make of it. How soon will it begin; how long will it last; how certain is it; how necessary is it; where is he going; will he return? What on earth does it mean? Can we remain faithful without him even for a little while? 

We understand that John's Gospel was the last of the canonical Gospels, written apparently in the early second century. So the little while had already lasted a long time, all of the eyewitnesses of the Lord's resurrection had passed, and the first generation of Christians were disappearing. There was already plenty of disagreement and strife within the Church, while Jewish and imperial authorities violently opposed it. How long must this little while last? 

And yet, we're still here! We still believe in the Risen Lord with the same assured conviction of the earliest disciples. Our opponents have their way of shunning us in public, confiscating our property, imprisoning, and killing our martyrs; and yet more and more people are coming to believe as we believe. But how long will it last? And when Lord will you come? 

You'd like to know, wouldn't you? 

Do you need to know?

"But of that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone." (Mt 24:36)

Our foolishness includes the ardent belief that we should know when this little while will end. We think we have a stake in it, and a right to know. And that presumption, like all of our sins, teaches us the majesty, mercy, and good humor of our eternally patient Father. 

Wednesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 293

He will not speak on his own,
but he will speak what he hears,
and will declare to you the things that are coming.
He will glorify me....

 I f God the Father is the most familiar of the three persons in the Trinity, and Jesus is the most approachable for being one like us in all things but sin, the Holy Spirit remains as the most mysterious. And the one who shrouds our knowledge of God in mystery lest we think we have God figured out. 

And yet the Holy Spirit is the one who brings the mystery of God to us, and the one who draws us into the presence of God. The Spirit of Jesus opens our minds to understand God's Word, and especially how we might live gracefully by his word in the present world with our limited understanding, Barred from eating the fruit which would give us a comprehensive knowledge of Good and Evil, we must rely on the Spirit's counsel, guidance, and forbearance. Very often, when we misread all the signs, zigging when we should zag, because we mean well, the Spirit of God makes things right. 

I have sometimes compared the Holy Spirit to team spirit, as in athletics or business. An enthusiastic pastor may inspire a parish or diocese to explore new ways to announce the Gospel, or revive old devotions that had become hackneyed through idle repetition. The comparison may be apt, but we should remember there is an impassible gap between heaven and earth, between divinity and humanity. 

The Holy Spirit reveals himself especially through the martyrs who speak while others remain silent and obstruct when others go along to get along. A hostile world may recognize that challenging, obnoxious spirit even when the devout do not, and take steps to suppress it. The Church might recognize the martyr's integrity and fidelity only in retrospect. As Jesus said,

The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. (John 3:8)

Saint Paul also reminds us of the crucial difference: 

For the flesh has desires against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; these are opposed to each other, so that you may not do what you want. (Galatians 5:17)  

 

And so the Church, and every faithful member, humbly begs the Spirit to lead us through the darkness of this world. We are easily misled by things we consider good, but we cannot see the long  term consequences of every action, nor can we manage the mischief of human desire. Rather we beg the Lord to keep his promise of sending us the Spirit from his place beside God the Father. 

Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

The spillway of Lake Mount
Saint Francis after a downpour.  

Lectionary: 292

But I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go.
For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you.
But if I go, I will send him to you.
And when he comes he will convict the world
in regard to sin and righteousness and condemnation....

 A fter the Lord's resurrection and ascension, we find no stories of grief about his absence, nor nostalgia for the days when he walked like any man among his disciples. The Church hasn't time for those luxuries, nor any need for them. 

We have the Advocate whom Jesus has sent; and he directs our energetic, evangelical mission to the whole world. There will be grief, of course. But that is mostly for the sins of our past, and the graced opportunities we missed. We may be paralyzed with regret with those memories until we have studied the scriptures and found ourselves within its pages. 

"We have sinned, we and our ancestors have sinned;" and those ancestors include the blessed and beloved disciples of Jesus. There we are among them even as they realize their foolishness and learn wisdom from the Lord. 

In today's gospel Jesus also describes our mission as Church with an uncomfortable prediction, "...when he comes he will convict the world in regard to sin and righteousness and condemnation." That we pray devoutly, both in common and alone, on Sundays and on weekdays; and that we do not indulge in many practices we find abhorrent. If the world regards them as normal and acceptable, we do not. And that disturbs some people, even those who consider themselves inclusive and tolerant. 

We seem to convict them of sin; and yes -- in a certain sense -- we do. We cannot bless abortion, suicide, or nuclear arms; we cannot abide racism and hostility to migrants. Because we love the sacrament of marriage, we are not amused by bizarre sexual practices. We might not stand on soapboxes in public streets to condemn the world's sins, but our avoidance of such behavior is obnoxious. 

Wisdom 2 describes this unhappy reaction: 

The wicked say, "Let us lie in wait for the righteous one, because he is annoying to us;

he opposes our actions,

Reproaches us for transgressions of the law

and charges us with violations of our training.

He professes to have knowledge of God

and styles himself a child of the LORD.

To us he is the censure of our thoughts;

merely to see him is a hardship for us...."

The Divine Author accurately describes the mindset of the wicked because we know our own sinful thoughts. Because we have found forgiveness in the Lord, and have accepted his forgiveness, we can have compassion for the unfortunate souls who are so tormented.

Corrie ten Boom, in her book, "A Hiding Place," described her sister's response upon witnessing a woman being beaten by a prison guard. She said, "That poor woman!" But Corrie realized her saintly Betsy was feeling compassion for the guard! That poor soul is driven by fear, hatred, and Satan's own violence. 

The guard was not unlike many racist, xenophobic Americans who would shut the borders of the United States to immigrants, and deport everyone who makes them feel uncomfortable. Because we have embraced our own feelings of discomfort, shame, remorse, and regret; and have accepted the mercy of God, we understand. 

We're not even surprised when, like the jailer in today's reading from Acts, they attempt suicide. But there is no need for that! And we respond like Paul, "Do not harm yourself! We are here for you!"

Memorial of Saint Philip Neri, Priest

Lectionary: 291

"I have told you this so that you may not fall away.
They will expel you from the synagogues;
in fact, the hour is coming when everyone who kills you
will think he is offering worship to God.
They will do this because they have not known either the Father or me.
I have told you this so that when their hour comes
you may remember that I told you."

 W e might not expect trouble, but we should not be surprised when it comes. Blessed by the Lord and content with the satisfaction that has come upon us due to our changed attitude about life, God, ourselves, and others, we may be caught off guard by inexplicable hostility. 

I am sure many Americans have made that sad discovery among their colleagues, neighbors, friends, and family as they preferred Catholic thought, history, ideas, prayers, and sacraments. The prevailing culture worships power and revels in its violence. Both sides may say they worship God but only one knows the One who welcomes sinners along with aliens, miscreants, and nonconformists. If hospitality to migrants makes perfect sense to Catholics, and fits every reasonable policy which might build or rebuild a nation, many people don't see it that way. 

This surprise can be very confusing to those who have recently come to the Lord. They may quote their old beliefs about "Christians," for instance, which they suppose came from God, only to discover authorities in the Church urging them to reconsider. While the old attitudes allowed them to stand with the world and with God, their continuing conversion takes them on a different path. 

Every book of the Bible, from Genesis to Revelation, is filled with stories of conflict and confusion. We come to know the Lord primarily through distress. While we may enjoy moments on an isolated beach or deep in the green forest, or even on the mountaintop with Jesus and his three disciples, we more often find him taking us by the hand and leading us through hardship, disappointment, and confusion. We need him more during those moments than during the quiet interludes; and he's more likely to appear there. 

In today's story from the Acts of the Apostles, Lydia found the Lord while doing the laundry. Saint Paul had come to her city of Philippi to announce the Good News. She was elated with her encounter in the Lord; we can only imagine her distress when, a few days later, the missionaries were politely told to leave the district. The gods who kept order in the Roman colony had no further use for them. 

"I have told you this so that when their hour comes you may remember that I told you."

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Lectionary: 57



“Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him."

 W e often speak of "the passion, death, and resurrection of the Lord," but fail to mention a fourth mysterious and wonderful incident. That is, his commission. The "resurrection accounts" of the Gospel include the Lord's sending his disciples, and their immediate decision to tell others what they have seen and heard.

Jesus's return from the dead and appearances as a divinized human being with the ability to pass through closed doors and traverse enormous distances are not just interesting historical anomalies. They demand much of those who believe in him.

A recent, comical video imagines that a skeptic's opinion about the Church's beginnings. They suppose the apostles fabricated the story of his resurrection after he was crucified, and then attempted to spread their deception to the entire world. In the video this is Peter's brilliant idea: "We'll hide his body and then tell everyone he's alive!" 
All but one of his disciples immediately all in on it. That’s a great idea! Let’s do it! Only Thomas complains that the same people who crucified the Lord will murder us for telling this story!
But the boys are caught up in the "spirit;" they’re eager to be crucified, beheaded, skinned alive, and burned to death – and so the fake gospel continues to this day. They were all martyred, and thousands with them, for telling a lie.

So the skeptics would tell us. It's a speculative notion more absurd than common sense or the Gospel! Who are they trying to kid?

John 14:23, the verse quoted at the top of this page, describes the manner of those who believe in Jesus, and why they are ready to announce the Gospel from Jerusalem to the whole world. They are possessed by the abiding Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God has taken up residence within them and they are filled with life, energy, and courage. They will travel to every town, city, and nation; and learn every language. Becoming God's presence in the world they will not hesitate to speak of him even in the face of death.

Theologians describe the mystery of the Holy Trinity with a Greek word, perichoresis, the mutual indwelling and inter-penetration of the three persons of the Trinity: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Perichoresis signifies that each person is fully with, in, and for the others, possessing the same divine essence while remaining distinct. They are entirely in one another, present, available, and vulnerable before the others. Although they are three, and each is God, there is only one God. 

This verse from Saint John's Gospel assures us that what we know in our hearts -- God's abiding presence -- truly describes the ineffable wonder of the Holy Trinity. As the Lord lives with us, so do the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit abide in each other, in a perfect Trinity of love.

As humans we know that three is an unstable number. When three people live together, they are continually, playing the game of victim, rescuer, and tormentor; pitted one against two and two against one, and their alliances shift continually. (Great fun is had by all!) 

That is not how it is with God. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit continually surrender to one another; and love one another because their love is total and their communion complete. Nor should we imagine their presence to one another is static; there is life and dynamism in God. That harmony is so beautiful we can't imagine it, and yet we know it's true because we find that communion, peace, and harmony within our Church and within our hearts -- at least occasionally.

Because the Trinity of God abides within his disciples, they are not reluctant to make the sacrifices which God himself makes for them. Jesus has said,

"No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you."

In today's first reading from the Acts of the Apostles we hear how some so-called “Christian missionaries" came from Judea to Antioch to tell the recently baptized, gentile men that they must be circumcised, and could not be saved if they were not. The message sounded familiar even to gentiles; and for that reason, right. It also assured them that believing in Jesus was not as demanding as it seemed. It's really the same old Jewish religion rebranded and repackaged but not altered.

But some disciples were disappointed with this more comfortable, more familiar doctrine; and Saint Paul was horrified. It can't be true! he insisted. It completely dismisses the passion and death of the Lord, and the sacrifice he has made for us. How can we be a part of him if we want no part in Jesus's sacrifice of himself? How can we eat his flesh and drink his blood if that eating and drinking does not demand, and bring us to a total surrender of ourselves in faith to God. Circumcision means nothing, Paul insisted, 

if you have yourselves circumcised, Christ will be of no benefit to you.... For in Christ Jesus, neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love.

Half measures mean nothing. If we do not take up the cross of daily sacrifice, we cannot follow the Man who died for us. A one off surgery, as painful as it might be, does not assure salvation to anyone. 

I have today spoken of the indwelling of the Holy Trinity within us; and of the total sacrifice that God's dwelling within us means. Finally, I must remember that we are sinners. When I graduated from Saint Helen’s School over sixty years ago, I probably thought that a whole lot of hypocrites attended that church. When I come back today, I find that I fit right in! Either I have become a complete hypocrite, or they have become saints! 

I think it’s the latter.
Or rather, God has embraced us, hypocritical sinners that we are. 

When someone tells me the Church is full of hypocrites, I assure them, “There’s room for more!” We don’t pretend to be anything but what we are, sinful people who believe in a good God who is kind and compassionate, just and merciful. And, as Saint Francis said, “Good, all Good, supreme Good.”

Saturday of the Fourth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 284

Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us."
Jesus said to him, "Have I been with you for so long a time
and you still do not know me, Philip?
Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.
How can you say, 'Show us the Father'?
Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me?

 Y ou have to break an egg if you want to make an omelet! So they say, and it's true on many dimensions. 

Today's first reading describes the shattering effect of the Gospel on Jewish expectations in the synagogue of Antioch. Whatever they were expecting of a Messiah -- and it's hard to say at this late date precisely how first century near-eastern Jews spoke of a messiah  -- it was not that the he should be executed by crucifixion, rise from the dead, or send disciples throughout the world to announce the incident. It seemed too ugly, too profane, and too unlikely to be true. Whoever heard of God raising anyone from the dead, much less of his dying, rising, and reappearing as the Son of God? 

But this was not the first incident of eggshells broken in the extraordinary story of Jesus. In today's gospel. Philip seems to think God should appear to his ordinary, human eyes and Jesus would make that happen. He is speaking devoutly, from his heart, and perhaps not thinking of an ordinary revelation. 

But his question shows how little he understands of what he has been taught. Jesus replies sharply to him, 

"Whoever has seen me has seen the Father! How can you say, 'Show us the Father?"  

He has only to open his eyes to see God, but the eyes of his faith are blind.  

A scientific age which dismisses artistic expression and religious doctrine makes a similar demand upon our faith. They say, "Why can't we see what you see?" Deaf to the allusions of religious language, tone deaf to music or poetry, they respect only problem solving engineers who deal in the hard sciences of a material universe. Meaning, purpose, and beauty mean nothing; and Truth is found by physics and chemistry. The person they regard as an illusion, a mistaken reading of organic chemistry. The language which knows only science, technology, engineering, and math cannot fathom freedom or free will. 

The greatest temptation for Christians is to try to explain our faith in terms they can understand -- as if we understand it in the same terms. The eggshell of a scientific worldview must be broken. There is no doorway through that wall; it must be demolished. 

Fortunately, it's not hard to break egg shells, nor is it difficult to break false presumptions. Can STEM prove you love your spouse, children, and parents with standard scientific tests? You must speak metaphorically, using metaphors like magnetism, the bonding of wild geese, and eggs that produce chicks and omelets. To encourage medical and technological research, you will have to speak of hope for a healthier, more peaceful future. That vision only religion can offer.

Love, hope and purpose are religious expressions, meaningful only with the grounding of faith in God's promises. 

Can anyone see the face of God? They have only to look at Jesus. 

I was ordained to the priesthood on this fifty years ago. I thank God that he has kept me here. And I thank all those who have made so many sacrifices to help me remain here. 

Friday of the Fifth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 289

"This is my commandment: love one another as I love you.
No one has greater love than this,
to lay down one's life for one's friends.

'It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us not to place on you any burden beyond these necessities....

In today's readings from Saint Luke's Acts of the Apostles and Saint John's Gospel we hear the above complementary readings. God speaks to us in the Person of Jesus, and God speaks to us through the authority of the Church. The messages are both directive and freeing; they teach us how we must behave toward one another, and assure us of the freedom we should exercise as we do so. 

Predictably, his contemporaries challenged the authority of Jesus to say anything about God. "Who is he to tell us how to live? Does he have an army or police force to make us listen to him? Is he wealthy to buy our favor? Or dangerous to force our respect? Where is he coming from?" 

Understandably, they ask the same questions of the Church: So what if there are a billion people in the world who call themselves Catholic? They are rich and poor, male and female; they speak many different languages. They support democracies and tyrants. Do they all agree on anything? And even if they do, why should I listen to their ethical or moral opinions? I'll decide for myself!

It's easy for us to say, "Well, Jesus comes from God and we should listen to him!" We might add, "He rose from the dead and that proves he's God!" 
Yes, and so where is he? 
Even if we believe your story of his resurrection, how does that give him authority? 

We believe because we have chosen to love the truth, and God in his turn has given us the Spirit of Truth. And God's Holy Spirit has shown us the meaning of the Lord's suffering, death, resurrection, and commissioning. Through the Eucharist we have entered into the very life of Jesus, experiencing his sorrow and helplessness before Death, and his conquest of Death. 

Having seen his willing obedience to the supremacy of death; and by that obedience, its destruction; we have come to believe he is worthy to be our God. We worship the Son of Man because he has won the right to our total love and complete obedience. We sing with the angels, 

“Worthy is the Lamb that was slain

to receive power and riches, wisdom and strength,

honor and glory and blessing.” Revelation 5:12

And finally, the world comes to believe in Jesus because they see the willingness of the Church to suffer as he suffered. Our demeanor, which is not overbearing or imposing, suggests the presence of God. God uses us to show the nations his glory, as the Wisdom of Sirach says. In every generation -- and especially since the beginning of the twenty-first century -- the Church has proven our fidelity by the passion and death of our martyrs. Defenseless in their devotion and innocence, many have been killed even as they attended the Mass. They died for believing as we believe. 

Nor should anyone suppose it cannot happen (again) in Europe, North America, or anywhere else. There is no human law, economic or government system that can resist the idiocy of its own government, be it democratic or autocratic. "The blood of martyrs is the seed of the faith." as Tertullian saw so clearly in the second century. 

We pray it will not happen as the United States goes into decline. More importantly, we pray that our witness to the death and resurrection of Jesus will save the world from its destruction. 

Thursday of the Fifth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 288

"I have told you this so that
my joy might be in you and
your joy might be complete."

 J oy belongs to children and the childlike. Adults may speak of satisfaction or contentment, but they usually reserve their joy for special occasions when everything seems to be going right.

But not all children are joyous. Some experienced mothers will describe their child as happy, which is to say unlike other children they've had or known. For these fortunate tots, happiness requires only a dry diaper, a satisfactory nap, and a full belly. Given something amusing, they're joyful! But not all children are born happy. So I'm told.

Fortunately, by the grace of God, we can recover, or be given, the joy of happy children. It begins with the realization that God is good, and God has everything in hand, and there's no need to worry. Worry is an option, but it need not be habitual or customary. 

Joyful adults recognize that not everything is right; but since they have not been appointed judges or arbiters, and have no authority over many things, they don't let wrong things block the sun or cloud their nights. "It's okay; it will pass." 

My mother, who had some experience with children before I was born, called me "Old Sober-sides." I guess, from my earliest days, I took a hard look around and was not too sure this was going to work out. I have to remind myself periodically that I have nothing to complain about. And whatever I am complaining about is not worth it. After more than sixty years in community life, I realize there is always someone in this community who bugs me no end, and it's not his fault. As is said of many old men, "After three divorces, they should have figured out where the problem lies." 

Childlike joy is a decision for adults. We put our faith in God, laugh at ourselves, and ask. "What should I be doing right now?"

 

Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 287

Some who had come down from Judea were instructing the brothers,
"Unless you are circumcised according to the Mosaic practice,
you cannot be saved."
Because there arose no little dissension and debate
by Paul and Barnabas with them,
it was decided that Paul, Barnabas, and some of the others
should go up to Jerusalem to the Apostles and presbyters
about this question.

 T he nascent Church, enthused with the Holy Spirit, eagerly studying its traditions and historical roots, naturally generated excitement, confusion, and arguments about what it all meant. Left unchecked and without competent, trustworthy leadership, the fire would have exhausted the disciples, inspired criminal, and burned itself out. 

Despite the Gospel stories about their foolishness, the Apostles were well trained by the Lord himself. They relied not only on the guidance of the Holy Spirit after his Ascension, but also on the formation they had received during their apprenticeship. When they met unexpected dilemmas they knew what to do: support one another, listen to the Holy Spirit, study the tradition, consult with one another, decide, and act decisively. They were not plagued with doubt about their authority.

"Leave room for other opinions!" some people like to say when their speculations about religion are challenged, and especially when they would introduce or reintroduce alien ideas into the tradition. While the Church is not uncomfortable with discussions, disagreements, and questions yet to be resolved; we're not always so patient with strange ideas that were tried and discarded centuries ago, Many heresies, rooted in human sin, persist. They were recognized as dangerous and silly a long time ago. 

The skeptic's diversity is usually rooted not in an honest search for truth but in their unwillingness to accept human authority. Officers of the law hear it often from reckless drivers who challenge their authority to pull them over. The same fools challenge judges and jailers as they dig themselves deeper into holes of their own making. 

Realizing that their skepticism is rooted in childhood trauma, troubled persons may find help in long, difficult conversations with counselors -- if they want to be helped and changed. But counseling only works with YASR persons: the Young, Anxious, Sensitive, and Articulate. Being young at heart helps. 

Reasons and persuasive arguments can bring us to the antechamber of truth but will not force us through the door. I have had many long, tedious discussions with people who did not want to decide. No amount of probing, reasoning, and analysis added up to a decision. We may search for, and discover, the origins of their fearful unwillingness, but that discovery will not make it happen. 

Alcoholics Anonymous finally say, KISS -- Keep It Simple, Stupid! We become wise by obedience. 

See, I am teaching you the statutes and ordinances as the LORD, my God, has commanded me, that you may observe them in the land you are entering to possess.

Observe them carefully, for this is your wisdom and discernment in the sight of the peoples, who will hear of all these statutes and say, “This great nation is truly a wise and discerning people.”

For what great nation is there that has gods so close to it as the LORD, our God, is to us whenever we call upon him?

Or what great nation has statutes and ordinances that are as just as this whole law which I am setting before you today? Deuteronomy 4: 5-8

Optional Memorial of Saint Bernardine of Siena, Priest

Lectionary: 286

They appointed presbyters for them in each Church and,
with prayer and fasting, commended them to the Lord
in whom they had put their faith.

 T his coming Saturday I will celebrate my fiftieth anniversary of priesthood with friars, family, and friends here at Mount Saint Francis. And the following day, I'll preside at the Sunday Mass at Mary, Queen of Peace Church in Louisville, Ky. That will be the 50th anniversary of my first mass 

So I noticed in today's first reading Saint Luke's remark about the "appointed presbyters... in whom they had put their faith." 

Everyone who initiates a project in business, sports, or warfare must delegate authority to others as it grows from an idea to reality. It's how we get things done. Even solo artists must entrust their paintings, sculptures, or poetry to others for placement or distribution. If it's successful, the enterprise may grow into an institution with thousands or millions of people, each contributing their time, energy, and particular creative genius toward its goals. It may grow far beyond its original inspiration and become unrecognizable to its founder.  

In the Lord's project of announcing the Gospel to the nations, we must find worthy persons who never lose sight of its original inspiration. They must be recognized by him, even as they readily recognize him! And they keep their eyes on him. They will embody the Gospel, making it flesh and blood to others who must also come to believe in Jesus. This appointment cannot be temporary. It is not a job undertaken, completed, and dismissed. They are more than subordinates with assignments. 

Like the man in the street who attracts a crowd by staring at the sky, the appointed presbyter is always gazing upon the Lord, always fascinated by his goodness, beauty, authority, and mercy; and always learning the truth from Him. His fascination must draw others to look in the same direction. 

However, unlike the comedienne in the street, he actually sees something, and others see it with him. And they soon forget about whoever caused them to look upward in the first place. He's no longer interesting. Disciples of Jesus never draw attention to themselves. As the servants said, in Saint Luke's gospel, "We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’”

The Church understands ordination to the priesthood as an ontological transformation within the individual, like that of Baptism. Neither priests nor baptized belong to themselves; they are wholly and entirely the Lord's; and their lives are at his disposal. Like an article of furniture in a store that is marked "sold," the ordained cannot be given or sold to someone else. The priest is different only by the authority he exercises in the name of the bishop, whose authority, like his responsibility, is necessarily greater. All are directed to and by the Lord. 

For that reason, priests never retire from the priesthood, not even upon their death. I co-presided with a Lutheran minister once, several years ago, at a wedding of a Catholic/Lutheran couple. He was a pleasant fellow, conducted the service with devotion, and gave an edifying sermon about marriage. I was astonished a year later, to learn he had left the ministry to become an insurance salesman. With all due respect to salesmen, it seemed like a huge comedown. 

Recently, Catholics have seen bishops and priests leaving the ministry, and some cardinals being retired. It's profoundly disappointing, to say the least. But, if one of the Twelve could betray the Lord, we can hardly be surprised. Faced with these incidents, we do not lose faith. Nor do rationalize away the sorrow with excuses for the wrong. The sin may belong to the one who put his hand to the plow and looked back; or to those authorities who overlooked what should have been obvious before his ordination. But a wrong has been done and the rest of the Church offers prayers and sacrifices in atonement for that. 

Saint Luke says nothing about how the presbyters in Antioch were chosen, but we can be sure they were not those who thought they had a right to lead.  They were chosen, as the Author of Hebrews says:

No one takes this honor upon himself but only when called by God, just as Aaron was.

But I confess I desperately wanted to be a priest as the goal came closer. I had wanted it all along and made more than a few sacrifices along the way. But in the ensuing years I have had to recognize my unworthy motives and foolish arrogance. In celebrating fifty years, I acknowledge what the Lord has done with this Adam, this creature made of mud. And I am grateful that he has used me.

Monday of the Fifth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 285

"I have told you this while I am with you.
The Advocate, the Holy Spirit
whom the Father will send in my name--
he will teach you everything
and remind you of all that I told you."

 A s I write this post, the cardinals have just begun their conclave. I don't suppose many in the Church are comfortable with these interim moments when we seem leaderless, like sheep without a shepherd. 

I have often heard Protestant ministers express admiration and envy for the Roman church's papacy; it solves so many problems. It even provides a lightning rod for unhappy people who need to disagree with authority, regardless of who they are or what they say!  Plus, the ephemeral hope that someday they'll get a Pope to their liking. 

During this time of transition the Church and its admirers pray that the Holy Spirit will guide the deliberations and final decisions of the Conclave. 

We find allusions to that Holy Spirit, and teachings about this mysterious Third Person of the Holy Trinity throughout the Old and New Testaments, but in the Gospel of John we are given a new word which is translated as paraclete or advocate. Advocate appears in the Johannine texts (the Gospel and three Letters), but only on five occasions: John 14:16, 14:26, 15:26, 16:7, and 1 John: 2:1. 

The Council of Constantinople in 381 defined our belief in the Holy Trinity and the Holy Spirit as the third person of the Trinity. The belief was solidly grounded in scripture, liturgy, and tradition; and contested only by splintered heretical groups. 

During these not-infrequent moments of conclave, the Spirit comes to us as comforter and advocate to guide the cardinals and to reassure the rest of us. More importantly, the Holy Spirit remains always with us to 
    "teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you."

Without the Holy Spirit, the Lord's insistent, "Do this in memory of me!" would fall on wooden ears. We do not have the authority over our wills, desires, or needs to maintain that necessary attention to truth and God's will. Despite our marvelous aspirations and pretensions we are sheep and need a divine shepherd. No human being, regardless of their charisma, wisdom, guile, or power can replace God; and no one should displace God in our minds or hearts. The Reason of the philosophers has been shown to have clay feet, and we now live in a post-modern age. 

When the Chair of Peter is vacant we join the Lord Jesus in asking for his promised Advocate to be with us. Far more useful than speculating about who should be pope or what kind of pope we want, we should spend these days begging the Holy Trinity to guide the thoughts, words, and votes of the cardinals in conclave. 

As it turned out, a Chicago native was being elected that day, even as I wrote this post. 

Fifth Sunday of Easter

 Lectionary: 54

They strengthened the spirits of the disciples and exhorted them to persevere in the faith...

"This is how all will know that you are my disciples,
if you have love for one another.”

 O ur faith in God is tested, sorely tried, and proven by our love for one another. Persecutions are dreadful things; they are terrifying like aerial bombing and kamikaze drone attacks. But persecutions and bombings often strengthen a people's resolve, rather than weaken them; but their internal quarreling demoralizes them, and petty disputes destroy them.

Saint Luke tells us in today’s first reading that Saint Paul and Barnabas strengthened the spirits of the disciples in Derbe. They exhorted them to persevere in the faith, saying, “It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the kingdom of God.”

We practice perseverance in faith by loving one another, especially when the times are good and there is little real hardship like persecution or martyrdom. Sometimes that means overlooking foolishness; sometimes it means urging loved ones to be more considerate. It always means a deep respect and practical affection for one another. It means humor and kidding without malice or – what they call microaggressions – nasty little suggestions that are masked as humor but feel like insults. 

Sometimes perseverance in faith means diving into difficult discussions and insisting that we finish this conversation and resolve this issue. Sometimes it means learning to live with something that seems both unreasonable and impossible. 

Everyone who practices the Love of God has many stories of the sacrifices they have made for the love of their spouses, children, and parents; as well as for the love of friends, neighbors, strangers, fellow Catholics, fellow Christians, and their enemies. Sacrifice is what we do, often with neither thanks nor recognition. As Jesus says, "This is how you will know that you are my disciples."

This is why we come together each week to attend and celebrate the Mass. We call it the "Sacrifice of the Mass," and we insist that the ritual is more than a remembering or reenactment of the Lord's death and resurrection. It is a sacrifice, an act making holy our time, energies, and resources, as we enter the Lord's passion; as we eat his body and drink his blood, he gathers us into his own body. We become his body, as he is ours, and we die and rise, and are sacrificed with him.

This sacrifice is sweet and delightful for us; it is the heart and core of our life as individuals and as God's people. We cannot go a week without it! We do not want to imagine life without it. Whether the Mass is poorly recited or gloriously celebrated; whether it's quiet or noisy; well-planned or haphazard, its purpose never changes for we do this in memory of our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ. 

This weekly sacrifice, of course, begins with our daily prayers. If we're not praying daily, we will find little satisfaction in the Mass for it must be the most personal prayer of our week. Whether we're alone or with others, Catholics always pray in union with Mary, the saints and martyrs, and the angels in heaven.

But if anyone habitually misses Sunday Mass, their daily prayers become aimless and unfocused. They are only the pathetic moaning and whining of lost souls; they are not the prayers of the whole Church. 

During the COVID epidemic, when no one was permitted to be with me in the VA hospital chapel, I had to celebrate the Mass alone. I often reminded myself that the saints, martyrs, and angels; and our dear Mother Mary, along with my father and mother, all my ancestors, and deceased friars whom I knew and loved -- we were all there in that quiet chapel. I could not have endured the plague as well as I did without the Real Presence of the Church. 

COVID reminded all of us how dear the Mass is, and that watching it on YouTube or other social media -- or worse, a taped recording of a past event – neither satisfies nor feeds us. Social media is entertainment, not communion; we might as well warm up a bowl of sawdust and water, with a desert of mudpies, and pretend they’re food. 

But we don’t come to Mass to be fed; we’re not religious consumers or cafeteria Catholics. We are here because we love the Lord and willingly make sacrifices with him, through him, and for him! We're here because the world still needs, expects and wants us to be here – whether they know it or not, like it or not. 

And finally, the Mass and the Lord God both remind us that the World – the big, bad ugly world – deserves our sacrificial prayers and our sacrificial life. 

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. 

For God did not send his Son into the world  – nor did he send us into the world – to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.

Our prayers, sacrifices, and dedication for the good of our friends and families, for our neighbors and country, for the planet, in union with Jesus – are the least we can do!