Memorial of Saint Martin of Tours, Bishop

Lectionary: 493

But when the kindness and generous love
of God our savior appeared,
not because of any righteous deeds we had done
but because of his mercy,
he saved us through the bath of rebirth
and renewal by the Holy Spirit....

While on a Viking Cruise up the Rhine River, our tour guide in Cologne didn't know she had a retired chaplain of a VA hospital in the group. She told us that Saint Martin of Tours is the patron saint of Cologne; and asked if anyone had heard of him. I raised my hand and proceeded into an extended lecture about the patron saint of Veterans, whose feast day happens to fall on America's Veterans Day. 

That renaming, for good or ill, displaced the former name, "Armistice Day;" which recalled the end of the "Great War." However, the "Great War" would continue with a Second and more devastating world war, (The third, when it comes, will almost certainly destroy all human life.) 

Saint Martin points the way out of that cul-de-sac. We need not go to war again; nothing good would come of it. Although he was a Roman soldier and known for his courage in face-to-face combat, Martin of Tours adopted the pacifism of the Christian faith and resigned from the army. He was ordained as a priest and bishop, and dared to call the priests of his diocese to repentence for their laxity. When several bishops, who in that chaotic era enjoyed civil authority, wanted to execute several heretics, he defended their freedom of thought and conscience. 

So long as there is sin in human life there will be war. Denying that sin exists -- calling it misunderstanding or mental illness -- only increases the certainty of another war. A woman asked me recently, "Why can't we all just get along?" I replied, "Because we can't." 

Without God's deliberate and direct intervention -- which we call grace -- we can only expect more chaos, violence, and war. And so we learn to imitate the saints and beg God to teach us how to be both merciful and just like Saint Martin of Tours. We pray that our Veterans may live and die in peace while our VA -- no longer needed -- recedes into irrelevance. 

Memorial of Saint Leo the Great, Pope and Doctor of the Church

 Lectionary: 492

You must say what is consistent with sound doctrine...
For the grace of God has appeared, saving all
and training us to reject godless ways and worldly desires
and to live temperately, justly, and devoutly in this age,
as we await the blessed hope....

Today, under the leadership of Pope Leo XIV, the Church honors the first Pope Leo, remembered as "the Great" and a Doctor. Although he did not attend the Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon, his delegates and his "Tome of Saint Leo" persuaded the assembled bishops to condemn the monophysitism which threatened to dissolve the Lord's human nature into irrelevance. 

His intervention also demonstrated the effective leadership of the Bishop of Rome. Although they could not agree among themselves they could agree that "Rome"  should have the last word in every controversy. "Roma locuta; causa finita est." (Rome has spoken; the case is closed!)

Pope Leo is also remembered for assuming the secular leadership of Rome when Attila and his German Huns threatened to overrun and sack Rome. (It would not have been the first time. Perhaps there wasn't much left worth sacking.) 

Catholics cannot forget the teaching, juridical, and sacramental authority of the Pope, bishops, and clergy. This is how we understand and incorporate our belief in Jesus as both God and Man. Were He only a "Spirit" as the monophysitists taught, we could regard the Son of Mary as neither male nor female, Jew nor gentile, slave or free. The man would have disappeared into God, and his people should expect nothing more than a divine invasion which would annihilate our human consciousness in God's presence. 

We've tried that "shock and awe" approach on one another and found that it never works. Iraqis were not so impressed by the American invasion as to surrender and become the 51st state of their conquerors. Few wives can suppress themselves before domineering husbands before they find ways to resist, with passive aggression, divorce, or worse. American slaves were notorious for thieving useful goods from their masters; and many fought readily with the invading Union armies. 

Our God, the Lord Jesus, is an obedient son who joyfully, willingly obeys his Father even to death on the Cross. He wants to save us; but more importantly, he wants to obey his Father who also wills our redemption. Between the Two, and with the Spirit that teaches us the same joyful obedience. And, as if in response, the Holy Trinity recreates us in the image and likeness of God, with all the rights and privileges thereunto appertaining!" 

Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome

 Lectionary: 671

Zeal for your house will consume me.
At this the Jews answered and said to him,
"What sign can you show us for doing this?"

Occasionally I've heard people talking about their intense affection for others, especially for babies, and say, "I could eat them with a spoon." The expression seems a bit excessive to my way of thinking, but I'm sure it's harmless. We can hope that doting aunt or grandparent, when the time comes, might allow the same growing child enough space to become themselves. But in the meanwhile, they're wrapped, if not smothered, with affection. 

The disciples also used the metaphor of digestion when they saw the Lord create a one-man riot in the Temple. But, in this case he was being consumed, rather than consuming. His zeal for God and his house overwhelmed the natural instinct of self-preservation; and would soon lead to his passion and death. 

But not before his disciples had consumed him during the last supper. On that most sacred evening he had said, "Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is my Body, which will be given up for you;" and, a moment later, "Take this, all of you, and drink from it, for this is the chalice of my blood...." 

His body and blood with the bread and wine were consecrated in a single formula and become one thing. The Church has often wondered how the bread and wine could become his flesh and blood; and what exactly the word is means in that context. 

But that seems to overlook the more important expression, my body and my blood. Jesus was that healthy man who would be nailed to a cross, suspended in the air, and left to die of exposure and the loss of blood. By eating his flesh and drinking his blood, his disciples are also consumed with zeal for his house. 

The same Holy Spirit which has driven Jesus from Bethlehem into Egypt, from Nazareth into the desert, from Capernaum to Jerusalem drives us to go with him; it has consumed us and we have become his Real Presence. And if our sins seem to render us unworthy of this consummation, they too will be consumed by the gracious fire of his love as we are purified. 

As we celebrate the Dedication of Pope Leo's cathedral, we thank God that we too are consumed by love for the Church for which Jesus died. 

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 154

Afterwards the other virgins came and said,
'Lord, Lord, open the door for us!'
But he said in reply,
'Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.'
Therefore, stay awake,
for you know neither the day nor the hour."

The Lord's parable may be read as a delightful promise of everlasting life for those who welcome him on the last day, but that reading misses the point. The parable does not end with the ecstatic joy of the wise virgins as they join the wedding party. Rather, we hear about the disappointment of the foolish girls. The parable warns those who neither expect nor prepare for the Lord’s second coming.

I used to meet with a group of addicts who were trying to quit their habits of drinking alcohol and abusing drugs. We met on the seventh floor of the hospital, ten minutes after an earlier session on the same floor. Several of them felt compelled to get down to the lobby, out the front door, smoke a quick cigarette, and return to the seventh floor in ten minutes. They were usually late; and invariably complained that the elevators were too slow.

The problem was neither the slow elevators; nor their limited time. It was their determination to smoke a cigarette, whatever the risk. They were not planning to enter the freedom of sobriety without their cigarettes. In the end, freedom from alcohol might say, "Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.'

Freedom, as the Scottish philosopher, John Macmurray said, is never unlimited:

“…the essential conditions of freedom are social and the simplest answer to the question, “Why cannot I do as I please?” is “Because other people won’t let me.”

He went on: no one achieves his own freedom alone. He must accept it as a free gift from others, and if they will not give it to him he cannot have it. This is the law of freedom. Anyone who struggles to achieve their own private freedom frustrates themselves, and destroys its possibility. We can never free ourselves from depending on others. “To believe in freedom,” the same philosopher said, “ in any sense worthy of consideration, is to believe in setting other people free. This is to some extent within our power, and it is the greatest service we can render; even if it must be, at times, by the sacrifice of our own. In giving freedom to others we have a right to hope that they in turn will have the grace and gratitude to give us ours. But of this we can have no guarantee.” (The Conditions of Freedom John Macmurray, Humanity Books, 1949) Freedom is what we give to one another. Friends might welcome you to take anything you like from the refrigerator or the pantry, and you’re welcome to it. But they have not offered you their husband, wife, children, or family car! Taking what you want when it’s not offered is not freedom. That’s coercion, which is why some people infest their homes with guns and carry them everywhere. With their ability to threaten, harm, and kill, they can do anything they want to unarmed people. I knew one fellow who insisted the United States is the freest nation on earth simply because he could buy any gun he wants. Do you call that freedom? It sounds like fear to me. Catholics celebrate the freedom we enjoy as obedient disciples of a Crucified Man. He has given us the power and authority to live freely within his kingdom. Before we are citizens of the United States or any other country, we are citizens of God’s kingdom. Saint Luke’s Acts of the Apostles describes the freedom of the men and women who moved throughout the Roman empire. The evangelist never mentions their paying anything for their passage; it was always provided. Their food, clothing, and medical care were also provided. During that first century, when famine swept through Jerusalem, Christians survived because Saint Paul collected and sent funds from all the churches he had founded and visited. The Lord had told them, “Freely you have received, freely you should give.” When World War II ended, the United States enjoyed an enormous illusion of freedom because it could take anything it wanted from anywhere in the world with its economic and military strength. The postwar era saw the best education, health care, and economic history of any nation in history. That wealth has been fading ever since, but we’re often unwilling to recognize the loss. Baby boomers are not as wealthy as their parents; and their grandchildren today face an uncertain future of growing restrictions.

The Crucified Savior still offers us the enormous freedom of obedience. As disciples who want only to know and do the will of God, we are ready to go where we’re sent and do what we’re asked. Our ancestors in the faith – that cloud of witnesses – taught us how to live with realistic expectations of contentment in whichever vocation the Lord gives us. We find meaning and purpose as husbands and wives, priests, religious and layfolks in the service of the Church and the world.

The Lord’s story of the foolish, disappointed virgins reminds me of three pigs and the big bad wolf, as Dad told me the story more than seventy years ago. The first pig built his house of straw. After the wolf huffed and puffed and blew his straw house away, he feasted on the pig. The second pig built his house of wood, and suffered the same fate. The house of straw was built in a few hours, and cost next to nothing. The wooden house wasn’t much better. Only the pig, who’d built his house on an immovable foundation of bricks, after careful preparation and planning, with much effort, time, and sacrifice, survived the Evil One’s mighty winds of trauma, disruption, famine, war, and plague.

We take our lessons from the three pigs and the Lord’s parable; and enter the Banquet of Heaven through the narrow gate of faith, hope, and love; of sacrifice, prayer, and endless generosity.

Saturday of the Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 490

The Pharisees, who loved money,
heard all these things and sneered at him.
And he said to them,
“You justify yourselves in the sight of others,
but God knows your hearts;
for what is of human esteem is an abomination in the sight of God.”

Jesus, like many teachers, most preachers, and all politicians exaggerates to make a point. It's called hyperbole; it serves to emphasize both truth and falsehood -- depending who is speaking and what they're saying. 

Human esteem within many human circles is desirable and good. An esteemed teacher or preacher should attract more listeners as the word gets around that this person serves the truth. 

That being said, everyone should hear the Lord's warning, "What is of human esteem is an abomination in the sight of God." It has a refreshing candor about it. The supremacy of God is beyond all human comprehension; and anyone who thinks they are really something in anyone's eyes -- be they children, spouse, parents, or sibling, friends or acquaintances-- should know they are really nothing. (Galatians 6:3)

Friday of the Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 489

For many, as I have often told you 
and now tell you even in tears, 
conduct themselves as enemies of the cross of Christ.
Their end is destruction.
Their God is their stomach; 
their glory is in their “shame.”
Their minds are occupied with earthly things.
But our citizenship is in heaven....

The Prophet Isaiah introduced  remnant to our religious imagination. A remnant is a useful piece of material, which has been torn from another larger cloth. Though most of it was useless, the remnant can be used for something. A quilt may comprise dozens of remnants from old clothes, table cloths, and blankets. It might even be prized for the memory each piece brings to the whole.

As Isaiah urged his people to trust in God instead of foreign nations, even as they were exchanging goods and ideas, signing contracts and covenants with alien kings and emperors, he saw the coming doom of his unfaithful people. A jealous God would not permit his people to recognize or honor foreign gods, much less worship them. But there were pagan shrines even in the Holy City! 

Isaiah saw that a remnant might be torn from  the nation, and that the Word which endures forever might belong only to that much smaller group. The majority might complain that God has abandoned them; but the Lord keeps his word to those who keep faith with Him. 

The Church today, faced with a "post-Christian" Europe and America, and finding new vitality in Africa, might find its remnant amid poorer, less "advanced" nations. Their way of life might seem only quaint to the sophisticated north, but their faith is true and their integrity, admirable. 

This is not a new story. Saint Paul saw among his recently baptized Christians disturbing losses of faith. Those who "conduct themselves as enemies of the cross of Christ." were not Jews or gentiles; they were the lapsing souls who considered themselves faithful despite their investments of time, talent, and energy in lesser gods, 

Their end is destruction.

Their God is their stomach; 

their glory is in their “shame.”

Their minds are occupied with earthly things.

They would disappear like Judas in the night when the persecutions began. Some would betray believers to the civil authorities. As the Apostles warned Saint Timothy's church, 

This saying is trustworthy:

If we have died with him

we shall also live with him;

if we persevere

we shall also reign with him.

But if we deny him

he will deny us.

If we are unfaithful

he remains faithful,

for he cannot deny himself. (2 Tim 2:11-13)

 

Thursday of the Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time

A dying man speaks to his mother

 Lectionary: 488

We are the circumcision, 
we who worship through the Spirit of God,
who boast in Christ Jesus and do not put our confidence in flesh,
although I myself have grounds for confidence even in the flesh.

Many people in the Church feel uncertain of their right to belong. Converts often apologetically explain that they were not born Catholic and don't know the faith as well as most. (Although they're often better instructed!) 

Others apologize that they were away from the Church at some point in their lives. It may have been months, years, or decades of years. They don't feel as worthy as those (few) who never left missed a Sunday Mass. (I tell them, "Everyone has a past!") 

Still others entered the Church through a brief RCIA  --OCIA now requires two years -- and and drifted away afterward. They wanted only the merit badge of spirituality. It was not a life-changing event. 

Because Saint Paul introduced thousands of gentiles to the Jewish Messiah, he was very familiar with that anxiety. Newly-baptized gentile Christians didn't think they belonged with the Jews who had always practiced the same religion as Jesus. And some of those Jewish Christians shared that skeptical attitude. 

Paul insisted to every baptized person, "We are the circumcision!" It's not about surgery! It's about belonging heart and soul, body and mind to the Lord! 

Regardless of your nationality or religious training or sinful past, you and I and we belong to Him!

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there is not male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s descendant, heirs according to the promise.

Personally, I find that it helps when you stop worrying about yourself, your place, rank, or right; and gaze upon Jesus. We find our place within his wounds.  

Memorial of Saint Charles Borromeo, Bishop

 Lectionary: 487

My beloved, obedient as you have always been,
not only when I am present but all the more now when I am absent,
work out your salvation with fear and trembling.
For God is the one who, for his good purpose,
works in you both to desire and to work.

In the British comedy film, Bedazzled, the Temptor complains to Stanley Moon, a hapless lover, that God pries into everything. There is no privacy! He reminds us that the measure of one's integrity is how we act when no one is watching. 

Saint Paul had announced the Gospel to Ephesus, survived a riot. and then left town. He then expected them to, "Be obedient as you have always been." He had, in effect, acted like Jesus who announced the Gospel, verified it with his passion, death, and resurrection, and then disappeared into the clouds. 

Despite a few rare appearances after his Ascension, Jesus seemed in the view of the foolish largely absent. He had left the critical work of saving the world to a group of fishermen, tax collectors, zealots, and the Pharisee Paul. So the Apostle followed the same pattern when he evangelized and departed Ephesus. They had heard the Gospel; they were on their own. 

But, as the Holy Spirit had more than filled in the absence of Jesus, so it satisfied the Ephesian longing for the Apostle's return. They had only to work out their salvation with fear and trembling.

Deus absconditus is what we call our complaint. God seems to be missing; He has absconded. In fact, God rarely appears visually in the Old and New Testaments; He visits Adam and Eve; and later, Abraham and Sarah. And Jesus is God in the flesh; revealed publicly for a very few years. 

But the Good Book mostly tells stories of God's call, our sins, our feeble fidelity, our longing, and the Promise whose fulfillment is recognized only by the faithful. 

As lesser things also disappear from our lives -- our health, the friends and family we love, our abilities and skills, and invaluable experience -- we turn to faith only to discover that God seems invisible and terribly silent. Has he left us entirely on our own? 

We have the virtue of Hope, which manifests as an eager willingness to do the right thing even when no one is watching. As Jesus told the cured lepers, that miracle 'will be proof for them." We also practice the virtues of Faith and Love. We need nothing more. 

Tuesday of the Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 486

Have among yourselves the same attitude 
that is also yours in Christ Jesus,
Who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
something to be grasped.

Saint Paul must have written the first verse of this song of Jesus with as much amazement as we feel when we hear it. Jesus "did not regard his equality with God something to be grasped." 

How can someone given enormous authority and power have no interest in it; and consider it rubbish?

When an opportunity opened to become the guardian of a Franciscan friary, I asked my spiritual director, a Poor Clare nun, about it. She replied, "Ken, leadership is nothing but a cross." 

Several years later, when I had the position, I was blessed again with two older friars under my authority. They had been guardians at one time, and were very happy to be relieved of it. They saw my mistakes, rarely said anything about them, supported me without hesitation, and made the cross less burdensome. But it was heavy and, after a while I found it unbearable.

Leadership offers opportunities for personal fulfilment -- or flourishing as some call it -- but obedience and humility offer better opportunities. But is there satisfaction in leadership? Not often! And when it comes, it's good only only if it's shared with everyone. 

When the Lord saw Satan falling like lightning (see Luke 10:18 and Revelation 12:7-12), he showed how one can enjoy authority. They did well when they used his authority to liberate -- that is, empower -- others. It had nothing to do with them, nor did they consider it about themselves. It was entirely about his Name. And Jesus was glad of it as he approached the humiliation, desolation, and horror of Calvary. 

Personal satisfaction bears a vague resemblance to salvation, but should never be confused with it. As a trophy it only sits on the mantle collecting dust. Like equality with God, it's not something to be grasped. 

With astonishing courtesy for those who are so obviously his inferiors, Jesus leads us on the road to salvation and freedom. It is through a gate marked with obedience and humility, not, "Arbeit macht frei."  

The Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (All Souls)

 Lectionary: 668

Hope does not disappoint,
because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts
through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. 
For Christ, while we were still helpless,
died at the appointed time for the ungodly.

Secular aheism presents itself as patiently tolerant of religious belief, and confidently expects all religions to collapse, despite the recent advances of Islam and Catholicism.  That patient tolerance also ignores the increase of hopelessness as millions of people face old age and death without a plausible reason for their life in the first place. Secularists don't care if you live or die, especially if you have no passionate desire for their causes. 

They challenge us with our own questions: What do we live for if not for God? In the face of certain death, why do we live at all? Many men and women may find reasons to go on living for a while. They want to see something happen like the maturity of their children or the achievement of certain ambitions like a trophy home. They have buckets for their to-do list. But when they're accomplished -- what?

Realistically, we can expect only the increase of physical discomforts and chronic illness as our bodies age. But a secular world demands a painless death, preferably at a moment of their choice; and with the support of sympathetic friends who will, in their own time, drink the kool-aid. We watch with dismay the advance of "assisted suicide." In 2024, 5.1% of all deaths in Canada were attributed to Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID). 

Is it too soon to sound the alarm: "They're coming for you. You'd better have a good excuse for your being?" 

How does the Christian answer such questions? What excuse can I offer for my being? Many priests want to live so long as they can be of service, but many also are content to reside in nursing homes with little or no opportunity to share the Sacraments with anyone. Many bedridden Catholics receive the Blessed Sacrament when it's offered by volunteer ministers. And some say they wake up each morning disappointed that they did not die in the night. 

Our faith gives everyone of us -- the old and the young, the healthy and infirm -- a reason for living. To use the Jesuit expression, "Ad majorem gloria dei!"  (For the greater glory of God!)
"God wills it" is all the reason one needs for living. 

Saint Paul points the way as he found meaning in his incarceration: 

Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church....

We are here to fulfill the two great commandments: we love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength; and we love our neighbor as ourselves. Christians are eager to assist the sick, aging, debilitated, and dying even as they generously accept help from others. No one lives alone, and no one should die alone -- despite the atheist's myth of individuality! While we live we live for the Lord, and when we die we die as his servants. Anything less is cowardice. 

In the love of God and one another we find all the meaning and purpose that we need. 

Solemnity of All Saints, 2026

 Lectionary: 667

Beloved, we are God's children now;
what we shall be has not yet been revealed.
We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him,
for we shall see him as he is.
Everyone who has this hope based on him makes himself pure,
as he is pure.

All Saints Day,  All Souls Day, and November usher us into the apocalyptic season when we must consider death and judgment, heaven and hell. This is also, not incidentally, the season of elections in America, when the nation make judgments about its judges, legislators, presidents, governors, lesser officials, and laws. As we hope to be judged by God with both mercy and justice when he separates the sheep from the goats, so must we approach the duties of citizenship with neither rancor nor fear, but with justice and mercy. 

"We are God's children now." Saint John assures us. That is a given, a gift; and we need not worry overmuch whether we are deserving or not of the title. We must, however, take it seriously. It is not a gift or privilege to be ignored or dismissed as irrelevant. God's choice of us is irrevocable. He will not; and we cannot cancel, annul, or divorce our covenant with God. Nor would anyone of sound mind and honest heart do that. 

But there is more of God's goodness to come. 

"What we shall later be has not yet been revealed." 

In fact, our fullness in God is beyond our imagination although we have seen it clearly enough in the resurrection of Jesus, the purity of Mary, and the lives of saints and martyrs. Can a caterpillar imagine a butterfly; or a tadpole, a frog? Speculating about the resurrection of the body and eternal life might entertain a quiet evening in a sorority or fraternity house, but adults consider the Promise only as we ask, "How should I reply to this promise? What should I do? And how will I prove myself worthy to receive it?" 

Everyone who has this hope based on him makes himself pure,

as he is pure.

Saint Paul's Letters shows us how the Holy Spirit acts like a downpayment of blessings yet to come. He says: 

...we "were sealed with the promised holy Spirit, which is the first installment of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s possession, to the praise of his glory.

Saint Luke's Acts of the Apostles especially, show us how God's people respond to that down payment. Just as anyone who receives an extraordinary sum of money with an assurance of more to come proceeds to invest it wisely, so do we use the gifts of the Holy Spirit to live in this world even as we recognize the resistance, cowardice, and duplicity of our world. Acts shows us the eager, fearless courage of disciples as the Spirit drove them from Jerusalem -- courtesy of Jerusalem's city fathers! -- to all parts of the Earth. Expelled from one city they'd hurry on to the next! 

Everyone who has this hope makes himself pure, as he is pure.

Hope is a power and a resource for us. It is not an idle wish like, “I hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow.” It is a promise like, “I’ll be there tomorrow, rain or shine, come hell or high water. You can count on me!” 

Hope has no time for nonsense, and cannot afford to spend time or energy on idle, wasteful behaviors. The pure of heart are those who know Who sent them, where they come from, where they're going, and what to do -- and not do -- in the meantime. Discipleship is not a nine-to-five responsibility, nor do we work for pay, perks, and pension. We forget neither the promise of redemption nor the threat of damnation; of death and judgment, heaven and hell.  

On this first day of November, as we approach the end of the liturgical year and the advent of a new year, we celebrate the Cloud of Witnesses who surround us with their faith in us and their faith in God. They know what we are going through and we remember what they have endured. We remember the many holy men and women who have inspired us throughout our daily lives. We also remember the inspiration we must give to one another, and especially to the confused, distracted, and anxious among us. 

Today we remember the words of Saint Peter, “Lord, it is good that we are here!” and the question of Saint Paul, “What do you want me to do?”

Saturday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 484

For to me life is Christ, and death is gain.
If I go on living in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me.
And I do not know which I shall choose.
I am caught between the two.
I long to depart this life and be with Christ,
for that is far better.
Yet that I remain in the flesh is more necessary for your benefit.

Toward the end of her earthly life, Saint Terese of Lisieux said, "I will spend my Heaven doing good on Earth." That is how she resolved Saint Paul's conundrum: What do we make of death?

The Apostle, writing to his Philippian congregation from prison, did not know what to expect or hope for. Would he be released; tortured and released: or tortured and executed? Most people would prefer release from jail as soon as possible. And yet he apparently made good use of his time as he wrote letters, prayed, and spoke to wardens, guards, and prisoners about Jesus Christ. They must have missed this model prisoner when he left! 

Knowing he must die as everyone does, he also looked forward in hope to sharing in the Resurrection of his Lord and Savior. After all he'd been through, suffered, and survived, there was no room in his heart for doubt. It could not enter his mind. Rather he thought of Jesus and the reward of being eternally with Him. What could be more desirable than that? 

But perhaps his Lord wanted him to remain on earth a while longer. Perhaps he had work to do outside of the Roman jail. "For which should I hope?" Saint Therese found her meaning, purpose, and salvation in serving the Lord with an eternity of doing good on earth. (She would worship in the Church of "Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility." As Garrison Keiler dubbed the Catholic parish in Lake Woebegon.) 

The Boom Generation and their children have often wondered about their identity, and believed it might be both pleasant and unchallenging. Identity could involve service of someone beyond myself; but with ample resources and time for leisure, which could be either useful self-improvement or mindless entertainment. 

Like Joshua who declared, "As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord!" I found my own identity as a Franciscan in following the Lord and serving the Church. Sixty years after donning the habit, I have no regrets. And the Best is Yet to Come! 

Friday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 483

It is right that I should think this way about all of you,
because I hold you in my heart,
you who are all partners with me in grace,
both in my imprisonment
and in the defense and confirmation of the Gospel.
For God is my witness,
how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.

During our recent exile in the country of Covid, I celebrated Mass in the spirit of the imprisoned Saint Paul. Although the VA chapel in Louisville provided ample space for several people to maintain a healthy apartness, no one was permitted to participate in the Mass with me. I had only a TV camera and all the saints and martyrs of the past, present and future; and the blessed angels; and our dear Mother Mary to accompany me in the universal prayer of the Church. (In the meanwhile, hospital staff often crowded shoulder-to-shoulder around the nurses' stations. The talking heads apparently didn't see that on their monitors in their sealed cubicles.) 

But if my misery was never as severe as Saint Paul's incarceration, the consolation was the same. I held the whole Church in my heart, because we are all partners in grace. 

Catholics do not pray alone; and we have many stories -- often recent ones -- of emprisoned men and women who survived solitary confinement and torture to tell us of how they lived in hope. A quick Google search tells us of Cardinal Francis Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan, Cardinal Ernest Simoni, and Cardinal Jozsef Mindszenty. We might notice that the Roman empire was kinder to Saint Paul than the modernity, its cowardly leaders, and their sycophants. 

Whenever we feel alone, we should invoke the sacred company and blessed memories of saints and martyrs throughout the centuries. No one is alone in God's sight. Even the wicked detest one another within their echo chambers.

Thursday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 482

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you,
how many times I yearned to gather your children together
as a hen gathers her brood under her wings,
but you were unwilling!

Christians cannot recall the life and death of Jesus without remembering the appalling attitude and actions of the Holy City Jerusalem. In today's account from Saint Luke, we hear his anguish over what has happened -- and will happen -- in the most sacred site on earth. 

The Earth is dotted with holy cities. Wikipedia counts dozens on its list, and defines one as, "...a city important to the history or faith of a specific religion."  Major religions have built them on every continent. 

But Jerusalem was the Lord God of Hosts' particular city; and the Old Testament is its record of God's continual favor and disappointment. Only the truly wicked should be unwelcome, but they often occupied the most honored positions! There should be neither homeless orphans, abandoned widows, nor despised foreigners. But Jerusalem and its citizens behaved like every other city in history. And, consequently, suffered the same breaches, invasions, and devastations. 

Jerusalem survives to this day, as do its Jewish people, for one reason only: God does not forget the covenants with Abraham, Moses, Joshua, David, and Jesus. 

Christians, by our Baptism, enjoy the same favor, even as we also give God endless disappointment. That story is recorded in the New Testament. The four gospels describe the cowardice and treachery of the Lord's disciples. (Scholars believe that the man who fled naked from Gethsemane was the Evangelist's self-insertion into the story.) 

However, as we turn to Jesus continually, offering atonement and asking both forgiveness and reconciliation, we must believe the Lord God hears His prayer for us. As the Letter to the Hebrews assures us, 

He who consecrates and those who are being consecrated all have one origin. Therefore, he is not ashamed to call them “brothers,”

saying: “I will proclaim your name to my brothers,

in the midst of the assembly I will praise you”;

and again:

“I will put my trust in him”;

and again:

“Behold, I and the children God has given me.”

That "one origin" is the Love of God; namely, the Holy Spirit. When Jesus consecrated bread and said, "This is my body which is given up for you," he united his body with the bread in a consecration which includes and embraces everyone who eats his body and drinks his blood. We are, despite the idiocy, horror, and scandal of our sins, bonded in the Lord Jesus by a blessing more intense and more sacred than that which has sustained Jerusalem through three millennia. It is a bond which can never be broken. (Eucharistic Prayer of Reconciliation, #1)  

The sad, glorious, tragic, inspiring story of Jerusalem reminds us of God's endless love which can neither tolerate wickedness not divorce us forever. (He hates divorce!) He will always bring the willing back to their senses with both rewards and punishment; and for that we are eternally grateful. 

Feast of Saints Simon and Jude, Apostles

Lectionary: 666

You are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the holy ones and members of the household of God....

Since the Vatican Council in the early 1960's, Catholics have been learning to see ourselves as set apart and called to be holy. We often have very mixed feelings about that. 

Our children instinctively seek models to imitate as they approach maturity. Lacking strong parents, teachers, and adult mentors they often turn to one another, and even create an adolescent culture which endures from one generation to the next. Sophomoric cultures may be institutionalized in fraternities, sororities, and and street gangs; and their alumni might revisit them for old times sake. And their often exploited by those who see their inexperience as opportunity.

Adult Catholics are often reminded from the pulpit that our values are not those of the world. We appreciate efficiency, but our ethical principles begin with God's Revealed Word and the human dignity that Word fosters. We appreciate beauty but our eyes look for the divine spark which is beyond appearances. We know that: "All that glitters is not gold;" and, "Beauty is more than skin deep." 

Our notion of power begins with the Father of Heaven and Earth who surrendered all authority in heaven and earth to a man, his Only Begotten Son. We understand that true authority is not owned or overwhelmed by its power. A president, pastor, or CEO, no matter how important his office, who cannot surrender his authority when the time comes, is revealed as a weak, spineless coward. Like King Lear, their lives often end tragically. 

On this feast of the Apostles Simon and Jude, we remember the authority the Lord gave to his apostolic Church. She governs, teaches, and judges as she shepherds her people toward God's kingdom. They are set apart to be a light to those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death. It is an enormous responsibility, given to those who are obedient and worthy. 

Tuesday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 480

Be subordinate to one another out of reverence for Christ.

Saint Paul introduced his reflection on marriage with an extraordinary remark about subordination. Regardless of how one responds to his teaching about marriage, this preliminary sentence bears reflection. 

Samuel Johnson, known for creating the first English dictionary, and for his biography written by James Boswell, often met and entertained young men of the city. He was quick witted, inciteful, and sharp-tongued; and though he engaged in conversation, it was more competition than dialogue. He wanted to win every discussion, and usually did so. 

He would not have thought much of the Apostle's subordination, although he is fondly remembered for his devotion to his elderly, sickly wife. 

I sometimes overhear his kind of conversation in large group meetings when two fellows cannot surrender the last word to each other. They go on and on! And sometimes to the amusement of others as they're clearly unable to let it go. And sometimes tiresomely, as the rest of us have lives to live and miles to go before we sleep. 

And I too must often let the other have the last word, especially when he or she cannot rest without it. I have said what I wanted to say; and having said it, I say no more.

I am sometimes subject to homilists who cannot find an end of their homily. They go on and on, often speaking more softly with each sentence, until they lapse into silence, having never found that brilliant final remark. Meanwhile, the congregation practiced subordination.  

Sometimes, subordination means allowing the other, or others, to have their way despite my opinion, experience, and convictions. It's just not that important. 

Better husbands who expect their wives to be always subordininate soon learn otherwise. That ain't the way it works! The rest are divorced and don't know why. Although married couples typically specialize their roles -- one handles the finances while the other shops; one handles car maintenance while the other attends PTA, one pays the income tax while the others pays the sales tax; they seek agreement on the larger issues. Nor does the one object when the other sometimes does the other's chores. They make it work.

No community can survive without everyone practicing subordination often, and Christians should be especially good at it.