Sunday Readings



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Do and Don't

If you notice, the days are getting shorter and the light is a bit weaker. And from someplace deep within, we all start to feel a mysterious drive to buy school supplies. As I write this, that great Staples commercial is on -- the one with the joyous father followed by two morose looking children as he dances to the song "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year."


That's right folks; it's back-to-school. Once again countless lives will take up again the burden of scheduled living. You don't have to be a parent or be in school to know how different things will be. Traffic patterns, optimal shopping hours, and the like will all shift back to a predictable schedule. The relative freedom of vacation time seems to end with the slowly declining light.

I don't bring this up to depress the children or raise the spirits of parents. It is merely an observation that life becomes more regular when school starts again. ‘Regular’ comes from the Latin word for ‘rule’ and given the readings today, rules are a hot topic.

Religion is very comfortable with rules. We certainly have a lot of them, don't we? For some people, that's all religion is. It's a series of rules and things they cannot do. A religion of rules-only does not comfort normal people. They either walk away from it eventually or use them as an excuse for tyranny. I bring this up a lot because fighting this misconception was a major part of the Gospel message Jesus preached.

But there is no avoiding the Commandments and the norms of our faith. Nor should we because without them it is impossible to have a regular faith. I know there are people who believe that faith should be a spontaneous and unfettered expression of grace. God love ‘em, but the last time we had the spontaneous and unfettered was the 1960s and that didn't work out so good in the long-run!

I think an authentic Christian faith is one that is free not because we want it to be but because God creates the boundaries which allow it to be free. Without boundaries, freedom is just doing whatever we want to do. With boundaries, freedom is directed to being who God calls us to be.

Sin, as fun as it can be, does not give us freedom because whoever sins is a slave of sin. We live in a world of addictions that enslave people with what began as a sin. What began as a sin becomes an illness that entraps us.

Okay, that makes sense for most people. If you obey the rules and don't sin, you can avoid losing your freedom. And, yes, that is true but it is incomplete. The Commandments were not given to us only to avoid God's wrath and nature's consequences. That is a very negative view and it is one the Pharisees had in the Gospel. The Law of God is meant for us to grow in virtue. It is something positive even if it is phrased in the negative. We all snicker at this; why wouldn't we? Isn't this just sugarcoating a rule that says we cannot do something we may want to do? I can see that, but there is one element we are conveniently forgetting.

No commandment from God or anyone else can make us do anything. It has no power of its own to force us. We can threaten or guilt ourselves into avoiding evil but that is never enough to inspire us to reach for the good. Divine precepts enshrined in the Bible or human morality demanded by our society are merely concepts until they reach the heart. Jesus in His divine wisdom points this out to the Pharisees and asks them to look at the source of their actions. The outward appearances and practices are fine but do not confuse them with the soul. Obeying the rules is a good thing but obeying the One who gave the rules is far better.

St. Augustine once said a very dangerous thing. He said, "love God and do what you will." In our world today, everybody "loves" God and they certainly do whatever they want even if it is the opposite of what God intends. It scares me that many people who say they are religious and have faith in God can, in the same sentence, defend the destruction of innocent, pre-born human beings. And God help you if you dare question that ridiculous and dishonest form of religion!

Yes, the human condition is always a conflict between the word of God and the actions of human beings. And, yes, we are always struggling as a church and as individuals to reconcile these two. But we never will if we fail to remember that this is not a religion of rules-only because it is a faith in the total love of God. When we are committed to that love, to that relationship, the things we do and avoid we do out of love for God. The great saints of our church figured this one out and found true freedom. By grace, they conquered the limiting influence of sin and took advantage of the opportunities for virtue. That freedom enabled them to do great things for the good of humanity even in the face of opposition from the world itself.

I once asked a group of former students who have done pretty well in their chosen careers if they found the limitations of school and our faith limiting. I also asked them if they believed that they, like God, could do anything they choose or set their mind to. They laughed and answered ‘no’ to both questions. One of them, a particularly bright young man, remarked that knowing what he could not do gave him the inspiration and the freedom to do what he could do and to do it well.

That's not a bad plan for life and, I believe according to Jesus, it's a good plan for eternal life. Maybe we can all put this one on the front page of our assignment books – be they old or brand new.

Sunday Readings



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Shocked

Ever since Elvis first shook his hips and Madonna slithered about on stage, we have been a society who appreciates “shock value.” The ‘radical chic’ of the 70s or the ‘political correctness’ of the 90s was the same thing. Shock was not just the value; it was the substance of the message. Today we are in a world where very little truly shocks us.

Still, there are moments of power that can change our lives in an instant. We can be radically removed from where we have been by something so different and so awesome that nothing will ever be the same. These can be good or bad. We can receive an amazing gift or hear some awful news. We can grab opportunities that make our life better or succumb to catastrophes which radically alter the most basic of things. We, even as jaded New Yorkers, can truly be shocked by life.

Jesus looks around at the faces of the disciples. He sees a certain stunned look because they just heard what sounded like a command to cannibalism. The reality of God is overwhelming, and sure, like the Israelites in the desert, they are given a choice. Some stay; a number leaves. It’s easy to understand why many left Him. Life doesn’t always work out the way we want. Faith proves it is no panacea for the shocking things of life. But still, some stayed. And they still do.

Let’s be honest here; Christianity is a shocking religion. We believe bread and wine become the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of the Founder of our religion. We believe that He is “true God and true man.” We believe the worst of us can be exalted in glory. We even believe people who hurt us have a claim on our forgiveness. There is a lot we can find shocking, especially the things that touch the raw nerve of our fallen human nature. For many, this is entirely too much for them, and they go away. Some are disturbed to a point they blame God Himself after excoriating those who work for Him. Some go loudly, but most just quietly walk away.

We know this because we have all seen this in our families, communities, and in our world. The largest group (statistically) of Catholics in this country are ‘former Catholics.’ Archbishop Dolan has noted this especially as someone who has chosen the words of today’s Gospel as his personal motto: ad quem ibimus - to whom shall we go?

And it is a very good question. In some way and in some degree each of us today has attempted to answer it. That is why we are here. We are people of faith. It doesn’t matter how strong or weak our faith is so long as we show up. Full-hearted or half-hearted we speak with our very attendance something very profound. Yes, we may be shocked by faith. We may have trouble with the difficult sayings of Jesus Christ and his Church. We may be unsure of the direction of our life and the things and people who make it up. We may be shaky on the dogma of our church when it comes to the sacraments or the moral life. But somehow or another, by the inspiration of grace itself, our shock at God, instead of repulsing us, has led us here. With all our strengths and weaknesses, our spectacular triumphs and colossal failures, we stand before the Bread of Life. We stand in this sacred version of a bread line hungry for something we value in a way we find hard to express. From that secret place within us we speak the words of St. Peter – Lord, to whom shall we go? – as a choice rather than a lack of options. Being here is no act of desperation because, for us, it is a choice of faith.

I would call this shocking to say the least. God has put into our hands – and I mean this literally – the awesome mystery of His own divine presence. And in doing so, he allows us to choose to remain in His presence or not. We may have questions about our faith or even our ability to believe. True faith always seeks fuller understanding. But I think the greater – and even more shocking – mystery is the faith God has placed in us.

The quickest way to kill a relationship is to remove any semblance of romance. Romance is really just a choice to surprise and be surprised by the other. Our relationship with God is no different. We cannot rely on the automatic and expected. We have to be shocked out of complacency by a God who becomes our food. The pilgrim road to heaven may be well-worn but has very few ruts.

Allow yourself to be surprised by a God who loves you enough to try and shock you. And because of this love, may be one day we will stand before Haim and say, “Lord, good one because there wassnowhere else to go but to You.”

Sunday Readings



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Central Place

We describe things that are important as the ‘center of our life.’ We say our world revolves around it; that everything hinges upon it. Human eyes instinctively look to the center. Architecture, art, and even basic laws of traffic say the center is, well, central.

Until recently, our churches reflected this. What was in the center? What was the focal point of the building itself? It was the Tabernacle -- the gold safe that holds the consecrated Eucharistic Hosts. Gothic architecture pointed to the center and focused upwards. Then somebody had a really dumb idea. They took the Eucharist and shoved it off to the side. Okay, maybe in busy churches that double as tourist destinations this was necessary like the Vatican. Maybe there was an idea a smaller chapel would be a more intimate place of prayer. But in general, most parishes experienced the Tabernacle going into a corner. What replaced it? You got it -- the priest. And the funny part of the whole thing was it was done in the name of a more ‘modern church’ where the priest was not as essential as he was in the Latin Mass. I don't get it. Put a human being in the place of God. And now there’s a throne just to get the point across.

But this is not about liturgical furniture moving. It goes much deeper than that. It is about the centrality of the Eucharist itself. I., as an individual, can question the wisdom of moving the tabernacle. I, as a priest and a member of the Church, have the obligation to question the centrality of this Sacrament. And it is pretty clear why we need to question it.

Today's reading from St. John's Gospel is a beautiful meditation on the one thing we do not have in this gospel. St. John has no Last Supper as do the other three. By the time this gospel was written, the Last Supper was already well-known and practiced. Jesus Christ himself celebrated the first Mass of Easter when He broke bread with the disciples on the way to Emmaus. St. Paul had already handed on what was handed on to him -- namely, that the Lord Jesus on the night before he was betrayed took bread... St. John does something else; he doesn't recount instead he meditates. He spoke first of the nourishment of Christ's teaching. And now he speaks of the Eucharist as the true Body and the true Blood of the Incarnate Lord.

In St. John's Gospel, at almost every level, what is most important is always placed in the center. I could bore you with my entire semester of study on this one principle but I am in a merciful mood. Suffice it to say that the Bread of Life discourse, centrally located in this main section of the gospel, is a meaning in and of itself. This is the heart of the gospel. The Word that became flesh has given His Flesh as the Bread of life.

This being so, the faithful are presented with a haunting question. I used the word "haunting” for several reasons.

"Is it real?" Like an apparition, we ask this of ourselves. The Eucharist is a profound reality check.

"Is it true?" Do we take Jesus at His word or not?

"Is it believable?" Do we rely on our reason alone or even inaccurate teaching and misunderstanding the Eucharist?

It's amazing that 50% (according to certain polls) of Roman Catholics do not believe that the Eucharist is the Body and Blood, soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ. It seems as if half of us have chosen a throne and placed it in the center of our faith. Half of us apparently have become pope, Bible writers, theologians, and taken the place of Christ Himself. It says that half of us have said, "no, it is not true, not believable, and not real." People who claim the Bible is the infallible word of God tell us that we as Catholics are wrong for taking Jesus at His word. The folks who think the Bible is a fairytale chide us to be ‘reasonable’ and not take things too literally. So as not to appear backward or superstitious, many have emphasized the community aspect of the Eucharist to the point that it is all about us more than it is all about Him.

Now I'm not really a member of the "Heresy Headhunters Association." I'm not sure which-hunts do much good even if there are too many witches. Besides, that's the easy way. It's easy to look around for the bogeyman. People make mistakes even with theology. Many do not even intend to do harm, cause scandal, or commit sacrilege. And, yes, some do precisely that. But that is God's department. He chose bread and wine -- not me. So while we may at times have to gently remind others of the consistent teaching of our church, we can (and even should) be rigorous with ourselves.

No amount of church decrees or church design will move our hearts to place the Eucharist at the center of our lives if we do not have faith. If that faith is lacking (or just plain weak), this gospel challenges us to ask a very simple question: if we can believe that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, can we believe this same Flesh is still among us? If so, is it the center of my life? Nature abhors a vacuum so if God is not at the center, something else will be.

I leave you then with this question: is this Bread - the Bread of life, our nourishment for this wonderful journey, the Body and Blood, soul and divinity of Jesus Christ - the center or is there something else taking its place? We answer this with our lives more than our words, theologies, or songs. And being here today is yet another answer in the right -- no -- central direction.

Sunday Readings
Malta Youth Pilgrimage



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Deus Provabit

For the first time in a long time, I am exercising my privilege as a Roman Catholic priest, to write my Sunday homily on Sunday morning. The truth is, my life is presently a mess. I'm still sorting through piles of mail, contacts, and all the little things that are disoriented when we travel.

Today, our readings are about this very thing. Elijah the prophet is fleeing from the furious Jezebel because he has witnessed to the supremacy of our God. He is weary and everything in his life is disoriented. Twice, God urges him to eat with the famous line "… else the journey will be too much for you.” And Jesus speaks of nourishment in the midst of His own journey which surpasses any other in history. He has journeyed from the heart of the Father to our own world. And without this most basic of things, without the nourishment, the food, we need to continue, the journey will be impossible. It is as essential as a passport. Whatever other plans, preparations, or packing are in place, if we do not have this one thing the trip is canceled.

As Christians, we obviously know what food we are speaking of. The Eucharist is precisely the bread from heaven for ou journey to heaven. It is, as Fr. Raymond Brown once said, "the viaticum of life." When we think of where we have been so far, we can point to the Eucharist as an essential part of it. In moments joyful and sad the Eucharist is the pivotal point for a Catholic.

And when we say "the Eucharist" we are speaking not only of the sacrament itself; we are speaking of its setting in the Mass. we are fed first at the table of the Word and then the table of the Eucharist. Without the Word, we have no Eucharist. Without speaking the words of Scripture that Jesus spoke, the bread and wine remain nothing more than symbols.

But Christianity is not a magical religion that has secret incantations and spells. When we speak of the Word of God, we are speaking of a power to keep us going. There is a dynamic of grace beyond words that goes to the heart and mind. In moments of joy we are pointed by God's own Word to an inkling of heaven itself. In moments of sorrow, we find reason to hope because God has desired to speak to our hearts of salvation. And to prove His word true, we are given the bread of life to strengthen the word of life.

Obviously, we do not have to pack luggage to be on a journey. Getting through the day is more than enough. This is not about location. Passive or active, living is enough. It is interesting to note that an old hymn refers to life as "my travelin’ days."

Think about where you have been: where you've come from, how far you have gone. Look back and see what was nourishing you along the way. I think you'll see, in moments of joy and moments of pain, the Eucharist, the Mass, at the center of it. In the ordinary times, there it is again. Be it a family celebration or a private moment, something extraordinary is there.

But “travelin’ days” are not over. Here we are again. Here we are hearing the voice of God urging us to "get up and eat else the journey will be too much for us." Early or late, we still need to have the strength to keep going. Sometimes it is abundantly clear that we do not have that strength of our own. I don't know how to do this without that food from God. I can't fathom how to make the journey without the provision God gives us.

As most of you know, I lost my wallet while in Lourdes. Thankfully (some would say miraculously) it was returned intact. My passport was not in it, but my driver’s license, money, credit cards, and insurance cards were. I canceled the credit cards and the insurance information is easily replaced. I had already kissed the money goodbye and dreaded replacing my license. When it comes to traveling, this is what is known commonly as a disaster. The only thing worse would have been losing the passport. So what was my provision? How did God give me what I needed for the journey?

Aside from offers of financial help from people I knew and people I did not know well, two hotels of pilgrims were praying to St. Anthony for me. I didn't exactly starve. Since it was Lourdes, hydration was certainly no problem. And over and over, all I could say was Deus provabit -- "God will provide." And when that happy moment came in the police station, I knew that He had.

No, this is a small incident. But from God's perspective, aren't they all? Still, He provides for us; He provides for our journey at all stages. We don't always readily take what He offers. We can think it too hard or insignificant. We may not even notice the touch of an angel to remind us. In the Eucharist, the word of life and the bread of life, we have our provision for our journey.

So today we rise and eat else the journey would be too much for us.