Reflections on the 10th Anniversary of the Election of Pope Francis & Traditiones Custodes

Friends, as we celebrate the Tenth Anniversary of the pontificate of Pope Francis, Mike Lewis of “Where Peter Is,” offers an insightful retrospective of the successes and challenges of his his leadership as Universal Pastor of the Catholic Church.

At this time, I would like to offer my own “two cents” regarding what some in the more conservative camp see as a duplicity on his part in relationship to those attached to the Traditional Latin Mass. Having interacted with many of these folks over the years as the first delegate of our Diocese to implement and celebrate this mass under the initial concessions granted to Dioceses under Pope St. John Paul II, and having pastored a parish where the weekly celebration of the “usus antiquior” took place, and, having celebrated it myself, I hope I bring some practical experience to this issue.

One of the most critical reforms of the Second Vatican Council that brought home in a tangible and concrete way for every day Catholics of the both the letter and spirit of reform and renewal ushered in by the Council was in the Sacred Liturgy. The Council Fathers wanted to recapture the vibrancy of our life of worship that had become fossilized in a language and format that hindered the “full, active and conscious” participation of all the People of God. Its Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy called for and mandated in the most authoritative way, the “reform and renewal” of our liturgical rites including its heart and center, the Mass. To more clearly articulate the maxim, “the law of prayer grounds the law of belief” (lex orandi statuit legem credendi), the subsequent decrees mandated by the Council shaped a reformed liturgy in continuity with the Tradition of Worship that has now become, over these past 50 years, the definitive expression of the Church’s life of Worship. It supplanted the older rites and forms that were desperately in need of revision to express the recaptured theology of Church that that the Council proclaimed.

The modest concessions to the “old rite” granted by Popes St. Paul VI and John Paul II, in no way were a compromise to the renewal and reform of the Sacred Liturgy mandated by the Council. However, Pope Benedict XVI in his Motu Proprio, “Summorum Pontificum,” in my opinion shared by many liturgical scholars, upended the modest concessions granted by previous Popes and set the unhistorical precedent of a “dual” liturgical expression within the Latin Rite, granting parity to the old rites with the new (Ordinary Form and Extraordinary Form of the Eucharistic Rites). In fairness to Benedict, he granted such an extraordinary concession in the hope that those who had separated from communion with Rome over the neuralgic issue of the reformed liturgy might be reconciled leading toward greater communion in the Church. Sadly, the experience of Bishops around the world in their candid observations solicited by Pope Francis, shared the opposite conclusions to Benedict’s wide, expansive and, in my opinion, overly generous concessions.

A relatively small but highly vocal and contentious “separatist” mentality was growing, adhering to the older rites, especially in the United States. In my experience, I would hear from not a few folks following Benedict’s Motu Proprio, that they were attending the “real liturgy” rather than the English Mass. Additionally, the ecclesiology as well as the ecumenism of the Council were functionally rejected by many, though not all, of those who adhered to the older rite. In other words, Pope Francis' fear that this situation was empowering a failure to fully and whole heartedly "receive" the Conciliar renewal and reform was not misplaced.

For these reasons and with great courage knowing the inevitable push-back that he would inevitably encounter by his detractors, Francis issued his Motu Proprio, "Traditiones Custodes" (Guardians of Tradition), that would greatly restrict the overly-generous concessions granted by Pope Benedict for the use of the Traditional Latin Mass. Why? - To safeguard the integrity of the reform and renewal of the Sacred Liturgy mandated by an Ecumenical Council and to, in time, bring about a unity in practice in the Latin Rite to the normative liturgical rites, reformed and renewed by the Council. In other words, Francis is mandating a return to the genius of the Conciliar liturgical reforms that there be only one form to those Rites that express the "Lex orandi, lex credendi" of the Church.

Does that mean that Latin can no longer be used? Absolutely not. Every bishop, pastor and priest can prudently discern with pastoral sensitivity whether the reformed rites could be celebrated in their Latin Form for the benefit of the People of God. On the occasion when a priest might celebrate in the absence of a congregation, assuming he is knowledgeable of the Latin language, he is free to celebrate the reformed rite (Novus Ordo) in Latin without recourse for permission to the Bishop or Rome.

Additionally, a parish celebration utilizing the Novus Ordo in Latin, perhaps facing East, utilizing the Latin Chants for the propers of the Mass duly updated thanks to the Benedictine community of Solesmes in France, with the full participation of both schola and assembly is not only possible but praiseworthy as an expression of the timeless liturgical tradition and heritage of our Church.

Having studied the unreformed rites, and here, permit me to speak with candor, particularly the Solemn Pontifical Mass utilizing the unreformed "Pontificale Romanum," it is particularly anachronistic and antiquarian in the 21st century to be celebrating a liturgy suffused with Byzantine court ceremonial, from the entrance of the Bishop in Cappa Magna (forbidden by a decree of Paul VI), ceremonial vesting of the Bishop at a 'throne,' replete with individual kissing of each of the innumerable pontifical vestments as ministers genuflect to the Bishop, the use of two miters, precious and gold, assisting ministers sitting at the feet of the presiding bishop, etc. One cannot help but wonder if this has more to do with an inordinate attachment to arcane ceremonial of another era rather than the noble simplicity of the Rites mandated by the Council. Such ceremonial sadly reflects a theology of the Bishop that is a far cry from that envisioned by the theology and spirit of the Council. He is not a Byzantine emperor but the servant of the community as successor of the Apostles in imitation of the Good Shepherd.

While EWTN and social media continue to decry what they perceive to be the heavy hand of Pope Francis toward the Traditional Latin Mass and its adherents, with the restrictions of its use in parish churches along with restricting permission for its celebration for priests ordained after the issuance of the Motu Proprio to Rome, Francis as the Pope of the Council will weather any storm to insure its doctrinal and liturgical legacy and reception among God’s people.

In Memoriam - Pope Emeritus Benedict

The death this morning of Pope Emeritus Benedict prompted a flood of memories for me.  On the bucket list of this liturgist was to be in the Piazza San Pietro for the election of a Pope.  While a student priest in Belgium in the late 70’s, I was fortunate to attend the inaugural liturgy marking the beginning of the pontificate of a relatively young John Paul II, having missed the election. 

I was pastor of Mission Basilica San Juan Capistrano when Pope John Paul II died in April, 2005.  The wheels of my mind began to turn realizing that this would probably be my only chance to fulfill a dream and be present for the election of a Pope.  Amazingly and, I’d like to think, providentially, I called Delta Airlines hoping that I could use miles to book a flight to Rome after calculating when the Conclave of Election would begin.  Miraculously, a flight was available!  I then booked a room in one of my favorite hotels near the Pantheon, Grand Hotel Minerva, for one week – all of this hoping that the Conclave of Election would not last too long so that I could be there for the inaugural mass of the new Pope. 

I remember distinctly at the International Terminal at LAX prior to my flight, seeing the TV monitors and the Cardinal electors processing into the Sistine Chapel to begin election of the successor to John Paul II. 

Landing in Rome some 12 hours later, I made my way to the hotel and immediately walked to St. Peter’s Square to witness the smoke from the third ballot of the Cardinals.  Gathering with tens of thousands in the square, the smoke was visibly black, no Pope elected.   

I ran into a group of priest friends from the Archdiocese of Los Angeles who invited me to join them for lunch.  The excitement in the air was palpable.  After lunch, I returned to the hotel to try to get a bit of rest before returning to the square for the results of the 4th ballot in the late afternoon.  Too excited to rest, I decided to return to the piazza a bit early.  As I was walking down the Via della Conciliazione, the main thoroughfare leading to St. Peter’s, I could see folks running, some leaving their cars on the side of the road, and I realized something was about to happen. 

Tiered banks of media, the likes of which, I had never seen, circled the Piazza.  Quickly, the crowds grew to over a hundred thousand.  And then, we saw the white smoke coming from the small ancient chimney above the Sistine Chapel.  The crowds roared with excited anticipation.  The great bells of the Basilica began to ring out in jubilation. 

It was a bit of time between the white smoke and the eventual pulling back of the red curtains on the loggia window overlooking the square.  Finally, the Dean of the College of Cardinals emerged and proclaimed the ancient formula: Anuncio vobis, Gaudium magnum, habemus papam!  “I announce to you, great joy, we have a Pope!”  The declaration went on in Latin, yet when he spoke the word, Josephum, it was clear before he got to the last name, Ratzinger, who was elected.  The crowds erupted in wild excitement and jubilation.   

A few moments later, the new Pope, Benedict XVI, appeared to impart his first words and blessing to the city and the world.  The crowds, now filling the piazza were delirious with excitement and joy.   

Timing was on my side, and I was able to be present for Benedict’s inaugural mass in all its papal splendor.  It was a week that I will never forget. 

Rest in Peace, faithful servant of the servants of God.

Reflection for the 7th Sunday in Ordinary Time

But David said to Abishai, “Do not harm him,
for who can lay hands on the LORD’s anointed and remain unpunished?” 

Our sacramental language as Catholic Christians is a language of signs and symbols.  Through bread and wine, water and oil, the spoken word and physical gestures, the grace-filled presence of the Lord in his unbounded mercy is experienced. 

Each year at the Holy Week Chrism Mass, the Bishop of every Diocese blesses and consecrates the oils that will be used in the sacramental celebrations throughout the year in his Diocese.  Oil of Catechumens is used as an ancient pre-baptismal anointing of the heart of those to be baptized.  Oil of the Sick is used as a comforting and healing balm in the Sacrament of the Sick.  Sacred Chrism is placed on the crown of the head of the newly baptized, on the forehead of those who are confirmed, on the hands of a priest on the day of his ordination and poured on the head of a newly ordained Bishop on the day of his ordination.  Sacred Chrism signifies that one is now set apart for a special mission as a Christian.  That missionary journey begins for every Catholic on the day of his or her baptism when, like Kings and Queens of old, the newly baptized is anointed on the crown of their head symbolizing the marvelous inner transformation that has taken place through God’s amazing grace.  One is now a Christian intimately bound to God the Father as his beloved son or daughter, with Jesus as his or her brother and all Christians as their family.  In essence, no Christian is ever a stranger to one another for we are all family – the family of God. 

With this unsurpassable dignity, the words of today’s Gospel taken from St. Luke should take on dramatic meaning.  Our Lord is giving us a litany, if you will, of the implications that such a dignity should call forth from each one of us.   

In an age, culture and society where incivility has risen to ideological hatred of our neighbor because they believe differently from what we believe, Jesus, once again places before us the sobering reminder that we will be judged by such hardness of heart.  There is no equivocation in the words of Jesus: 

“Stop judging and you will not be judged.
Stop condemning, and you will not be condemned.
Forgive and you will be forgiven.
Give, and gifts will be given to you;
a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing,
will be poured into your lap.
For the measure with which you measure
will in return be measured out to you.” 

Every Lord’s Day is an opportunity for recommitment to the mission we received at Baptism when we were called not to be just ordinary Christian but extraordinary Christians practicing the love and mercy so generously shown us by the one whose name we bear.  Let us pray for the strength and courage to truly be what we are by grace this day and every day of our lives.

Reflection for the 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time

For I handed on to you as of first importance what I also received:
that Christ died for our sins
in accordance with the Scriptures… 

I’ve always been fascinated by the beauty and intricacy of our English language.  As many of you know, English has been influenced by several other languages, one of those languages is Latin.  My six years of Latin studies both in High School and Seminary College has peppered my vocabulary with a numbered of Latin root words in English as well as a fascination with how those words influenced our English language. 

Take, for instance, the English word ‘tradition.’  It comes from the Latin word, tradere, which means ‘to hand over.’  Interestingly, it also is the historic root word for the word, ‘traitor,’ one who ‘hands over’ another.   

St. Paul in today’s second reading from his First Letter to the Church at Corinth speaks of how (He) hand on to you as of first importance what I also received… He then shares the very heart of the Gospel, the story of the dying and rising of Jesus upon which hinges the entire meaning of the Good News.  It is precisely this reality that remains for all ages the core Tradition of the Christian faith.  It is this Tradition that makes new and transforms our hearts with the power of the Risen Lord. 

In the course of my priesthood, I sometimes hear folks describe themselves as traditional Catholics, which makes me think to myself, well, what am I, chopped liver???  So often such self-definitions are deeply ideological driven, in one profound sense, we are all traditional Catholics for we have all received the precious Good News that has been handed down to us from one generation to another shaping us to be the Catholic Christians we are today. 

One wise person once said that Tradition is not so much wearing your grandfather’s hat but rather giving birth to a child!  I love that quote since it speaks of the dynamic quality of Tradition to creatively present that ‘which has been handed down’ anew for every time and culture. The eminent Lutheran theologian, Jaroslav Pelikan beautifully defines Tradition, not the ‘dead faith of the living but rather the living faith of those who have gone before us.’ 

Our Church has witnessed 21 great moments when that Tradition has been both defined and rearticulated for the women and men of every great epoch in which she has found herself.  We call these the 21 great Councils of the Church, beginning with the Council of Nicaea (325) to the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965).  These Councils have witnessed to the beautiful Latin expression: ecclesia semper reformanda est – The Church is forever in a state of change and reformation! 

It is sad that there are those who cling to a nostalgic view of the Church where change and reform are alien.  Only living realities change and grow; dead things remain the same and wither and die. 

It is this living and dynamic faith in the power of the transforming love of Christ that inflamed the hearts of Peter, James and John in today’s Gospel to leave all things at the Lord’s call.  That same call continues to go out in every time and place, beckoning us to surrender to the incomparable gift that our living Tradition of Faith offers.  Deo Gratias!

Reflection for the 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time

So faith, hope, love remain, these three;
but the greatest of these is love. 

If I had a dollar for every wedding celebration, I presided at in which the couple selected the beautiful lyric passage about love from St. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians, chapter 13, that is our Second Reading today, I’d be a rich man!  Of course, on the day that celebrates and seals a couple’s love in the midst of the Christian community, there is no better passage that speaks of love’s power to uplift, heal, forgive and to make new than what we have in our second reading today. 

Love, mercy and compassion represent the heart of the Good News of Jesus Christ.  There is no way around it.  Upon these virtues lies the very heart of God our Father’s existence as expressed in his Incarnate Son, Jesus Christ.   

Not long ago, I met someone who introduced themselves to me as an ‘orthodox Catholic!’  Of course, underlying such a tribal label is the kind of judgmental hypocrisy that so often forgets the heart of the Gospel message of inclusion, love, compassion, mercy and forgiveness. It is precisely this kind of ideological self-identity that is ripping our beloved Church apart.   It is exactly this kind of arrogance that is burning down bridges to so many who are seeking spiritual meaning and purpose in their lives within the rich tradition of our Church only to have doors slammed in their face with the not so subtle sign, ‘you are not worthy!’ 

I’m grateful that our Universal Pastor and Vicar of Christ, Pope Francis, understands well the heart of the Gospel of Compassion and Love and seeks every opportunity to be the bridge builder that the very ancient word, pontifex, from which we get the English word, Pontiff, implies.  Perhaps, that is why he is so vilified in social media by those who hyperbolically refer to themselves as ‘orthodox Catholics.’  Sadly, in all of the 47 years of my priesthood, I have never heard such disgraceful and hateful epithets hurled at the Vicar of Christ, tragically, even by a few who hold the office of Bishop. 

Perhaps, in these days where hurtful words seem to trip off our lips so easily, even by those who should know better, we all need to hear again the words of St. Paul, not just with our ears but most importantly with our hearts: 

Love is patient, love is kind.
It is not jealous, it is not pompous,
it is not inflated, it is not rude, 
it does not seek its own interests,
it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury,
it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.

Reflection for the 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Standing at one end of the open place that was before the Water Gate,
he read out of the book from daybreak till midday,
in the presence of the men, the women,
and those children old enough to understand;
and all the people listened attentively to the book of the law. 

One of the ministries that I miss due to my neurological condition is preaching.  Over 40 years this was an aspect of my priestly ministry that I cherished.  Fortunately, in my seminary years I had a gifted professor of homiletics, Fr. Charles Miller, who imparted his rich knowledge in effectively preaching the Word to his students. 

I will never forget the sage advice of Fr. Miller when he said, “When you think you’re losing your audience, just interject a story, folks lovc stories!”  I remembered that advice throughout the years of my active priesthood.  Whenever I was preaching and could sense that folks were getting restless, I’d try to interject, ‘now, I’d like to tell you a story,’ and unfailingly, heads would lift and all eyes were back on me as they listened attentively to what would follow.  Yes, we all love stories. 

Perhaps, that is the reason why our First Reading in today’s Eucharist from the Book of Nehemiah captured so dramatically our attention.  It narrates the story of how the Law of the Lord, the Torah, had literally been lost.  In the excavations being done on the Temple in Jerusalem following the return of the Jews from their Babylonian captivity in exile, the Law of the Lord, the Torah, was found once again and the passage we have today dramatically tells the story of how Ezra the priest  proclaims anew that cherished Word of God to the People.   

Truly, the Word of God comes alive when that story becomes our story.  The Word of God comes alive when the meaning of that word is translated in the very quality in which we live our lives. No wonder, then, that it has been said that St. Francis of Assisi once said, “Preach the word always and sometimes use words!”

Reflection for the Solemnity of the Epiphany

And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, 
until it came and stopped over the place where the child was.
They were overjoyed at seeing the star, 
and on entering the house
they saw the child with Mary his mother. 

There is more than a little coincidence that on Christmas Day, 2021, one of the most intriguing and complicated science experiments was launched into space to explore the outer regions of space.  The James Webb Space Telescope was successfully launched into space from French Guiana, a joint venture of NASA and the European and Canadian Space Agencies.  Replacing the Hubble Telescope whose discoveries astounded astronomers, the James Webb Telescope, if all goes as planned, holds the promise of unlocking the secrets of the Big Bang Theory and the beginnings of the Universe as well as discovering a planet whose atmosphere might be ‘just right’ for life as we know it. 

There has always been something mystical, ethereal, cosmic and spiritual about the heavens.  Not only has its immensity, humbled us down through the centuries but even more importantly, it has fired the human imagination, its mysteries beckoning our exploration. 

No wonder, then, that on this Solemnity of the Epiphany, a celestial star plays a central role in guiding the royal searchers to the unexpected and utterly humble scene of Mother and child, cradled in her arms, her husband by her side.  Power meets vulnerability and bows in adoration. 

The Church down through the centuries sees this scene as symbolling-forth the in-breaking of God’s love in the flesh, that invites our humble pondering leading to adoration and worship. 

All worship is rooted in praise and thanksgiving of the God who is the giver of all good gifts.  No greater gift have we than the gift of the Father’s only Son whose arms are perpetually extended to us in unconditional love and mercy. 

On this Epiphany, let us, like the Kings of old, lay before the newborn King that which is most precious to us, our very lives, surrendered in faith and love.  And let that gift, we pray, be transformed so that we might be the light of Christ to a waiting world.

Reflection for Christmas

So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph, 
and the infant lying in the manger.
When they saw this,
they made known the message
that had been told them about this child. 

Friends, as we gather to ponder the wondrous mystery of the Incarnation and attempt to ‘unpack’ its meaning for us this Christmas, we have no better guide than a 4th century Saint from Northern Africa, St. Athanasius.  As Bishop of the then thriving Christian city of Alexandria, from an early age, Athanasius pondered the great mysteries of the Christian faith.  At 23, he wrote his foundational theological work, On the Incarnation.  It is within this work that Athanasius gave the Christian Church the distillation of the meaning of the Incarnation when he wrote the simple yet utterly profound sentence: God became human so that humans can become God! 

For many, such a statement was completely shocking.  How could the created become the creator?  Yet, sisters and brothers, it is precisely such a divine exchange that lies at the heart of the meaning of Christmas.   

In the lowly and vulnerable child of Bethlehem, born of the young maiden, Mary whose husband was Joseph, God the Father brought to completion his redemptive plan for the human family.  That child cradled in the arms of his mother would, in time, be the fulfillment of the Father’s reconciling love as his outstretched arms would be suspended between heaven and earth on the cross for our salvation – a salvation that would be sealed in his glorious conquering of death in Resurrection and new life. 

However, today our eyes gaze on the utterly simple scene of a family cherishing its newborn child.  God so often uses the familiar and the unspectacular to manifest his wondrous presence, for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear the subtle presence of the God of all ages.  Yes, God so often surprises us with his presence in the ordinary and yet profoundly important moments in life, the birth of a child, the surprise of love, and the unearned gift of forgiveness.   

The challenging question, however, of this Christmas and every Christmas is:  How will Christ be born in us?  How can we become worthy of the reality that we are by the grace of the Incarnation and becoming God!   

Each day becomes a precious opportunity for us to realize that reality by letting the Christ in us touch those around us with his mercy, love and forgiveness.  Let us pray for the grace of this gift beyond all others, this Christmas.

Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent

“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?” 

While May has become the month dedicated to the Mother of God with charming May crowning’s and rosary processions, personally, I’ve always looked to the Advent Season as the preeminent time for Christians to both remember and celebrate Mary’s unique role in Salvation History. 

Not only do we have two significant Marian feasts in the month of December, Mary’s Immaculate Conception and the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, dear to the faithful in the Americas, but we have the Advent readings from the Gospel of Luke that anchor Mary’s unique place in the communion of saints. 

Why do we Christians and more specifically Catholics and Orthodox Christians venerate Mary so highly? Isn’t such veneration near idolatry that detracts from the singular focus that we Christians should have on the son she bore? 

From the earliest days of the Christian community as witnessed by both Sacred Scripture and Tradition, Mary played an altogether unique role in the unfolding of the Father’s great plan to reconcile the human race.  Sacred Tradition tells us that from the very first moment of her conception, the Father was preparing this young Jewish maiden to play an instrumental role in His definitive breaking into human history.  Yet, God’s will for us through Mary was not forced upon her.  The mystery of the Annunciation reminds us that it was Mary’s ‘yes’ to the Father’s invitation to be the mother of his Son, that salvation dawned for all humanity. 

Our Gospel today recounts the cherished moment when Mary with child goes to visit her cousin, Elizabeth, unexpectedly pregnant in her advanced age with her son, John.  John, the last and greatest of all the prophets, ‘leapt for joy’ in his mother’s womb as Mary approached, keenly aware that salvation was dawning! 

My friends, as the great Feast of the Incarnation nears, may our hearts leap for joy as we welcome the God who makes his home with us, Emmanuel, as God breaks into our lives with his unconditional love and mercy.  He who is our way, our truth and our life.  He who is the Son of Mary.

Reflection for the Second Sunday of Advent

“…the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the desert.
John went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, 
proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins…” 

Madman or prophet?  The contemporaries at the time of Jesus wrestled with that question as they heard of the preaching of one, John the Baptist, as he attracted both followers and detractors out in the Judean desert. 

Biblical scholars surmise that John could very well have been a member of a mysterious and highly devout Jewish sect, the Essenes, that arose around the time of Jesus.  From the Essenes, we now have the treasured Dead Sea Scrolls that were discovered by a shepherd boy in one of the many caves near the Dead Sea.  These scrolls proved to be the oldest manuscripts of the Hebrew Scriptures. 

John witnessed to the yearning of the Jewish people that a Messiah would come to bring to fulfillment God’s promises to his people.   John, as the last and greatest of the prophets, was privileged to witness the coming of the Messiah, the anointed one of God, as he preached a message of conversion and repentance to his contemporaries.   

The line between prophet and madman is often clearly delineated in the message that is preached.  Madmen who fancy themselves as ‘prophets’ invariably point to themselves in a narcissistic obsession with self. Prophets, speak in the name of another and point the way to one whose loving kindness and mercy will bring a justice and peace to a fractured and torn world.  Prophets are bridge-builders and reconcilers not wall-builders sowing seeds of hatred and dissension. 

My friends, as our Advent Season unfolds, we give thanks for the witness of John who pointed to the anointed one and said, “He must increase, and I must decrease…”. As the remembrance of the dawning of our salvation nears in the great festival of the Nativity, let us heed John’s ageless call to turn our lives around as we embrace the living hope that is ours in the Babe of Bethlehem.

Reflection for the First Sunday of Advent

The days are coming, says the LORD, 
    when I will fulfill the promise 
    I made to the house of Israel and Judah. 

Promise making and promise keeping are at the heart of the liturgical dynamic of the Advent Season that begins this weekend.  The Church in the ancient rituals of this Season beckons us to remember the liberation promises that the Lord and His Christ have made and kept for his beloved people. 

I’ve always loved the Advent Season with its carols that speak of longing and hope and the wreath that marks the passing of these weeks as we prepare for the remembrance of the Lord’s Incarnation in the lowly stable of Bethlehem. 

The entire Hebrew scriptures with its bizarre twists and turns, fantastical stories of sin and grace, retribution and mercy, tells the story of promises made and kept.  At the dawn of creation, when our first parents turned from the loving presence of the Lord of Creation and listened to the false promises of the tempter, God would not and could not abandon his promise to heal the wound of humanity. 

After the great flood, Noah and his family saw the rainbow as a perpetual promise that never again would such devastation touch the human family. 

The Advent Season remembers and celebrates the promise made and kept that God would ultimately reveal his presence in one like us, with all the vulnerability of a child whose arms would be cradled by his loving mother and, in time, would be stretched out on the wood of the cross for the liberation of humankind. 

Sisters and brothers, as we remember and celebrate these promises made and kept by the God of mercy and unconditional love, let our hearts and lives overflow in gratitude for so great a grace and gift.   

However, with these promises made and kept comes a responsibility that we too will be signs and instruments of God’s own promises made and kept as we work for justice, as we strive to be a people of compassion and mercy, as we work to live the Gospel we profess by both our words and deeds.

Reflection for the Solemnity of Christ the King

To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood,
who has made us into a kingdom, priests for his God and Father,
to him be glory and power forever and ever.  Amen. 

The Norbertine Order that was founded in the 12th century possesses a number of fascinating names: the Order of Canons Regular of Premontré or Premonstratensians (that’s a mouthful!) or simply the White Canons.  In the Diocese of Orange, we are blessed with a large Norbertine community whose presence predates the founding of our Diocese in 1976.  Recently, this community under the leadership of their Abbot, Eugene, accomplished an historic and phenomenal event – the building of a new Abbey to accommodate their young and ever-growing community!  In this day and age, to build a new Abbey for a religious community is nearly unheard of.  Not only has this been an historic moment but the architectural beauty of this structure is stunning as it reflects the Medieval roots of this community. 

On the recent visit to the new Abbey Church, I was struck by the central image of the crucified Lord as his cross is suspended over the altar.  Inscribed above the corpus are two words that capture the immensity of our theology of the cross and redemption: Rex Gloriae – the King of Glory! 

Friends, as we reflect on the power of God’s holy word on this final Sunday of our liturgical year, the Church dedicates this Sunday to Christ the King.  The notion of ‘kingship’ is a relatively alien concept for those of us living in a country whose foundational roots are embedded in our revolutionary fight to disengage ourselves from a King and his sovereignty over us.  Rather, we fought for self-sovereignty and the freedom that democracy would give. 

As Christians, though, the image of the King of Glory whose absolute sovereignty over our lives extends from his absolute self-giving from the throne of the cross, is the image that utterly transcends political power.   

The sovereignty of the King of Glory over our lives is not one that stifles our human freedom but rather, in his unconditional love and mercy, redeems us to be ultimately free to become our best selves as we come to know true freedom in loving and serving others in his name. 

On this final Sunday of our Church’s Year of Grace with Advent dawning next Sunday, we glory in this cross of our salvation on which hung our King of Glory for the life of the world.

Reflection for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

"And then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in the clouds'
with great power and glory,
and then he will send out the angels
and gather his elect from the four winds,
from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.” 

What will it be like when we die?  That question has both haunted and fascinated humankind since the dawn of our creation.  Recently, I saw a consummately awful series on Netflix called, Midnight Mass.  I don’t like horror films and don’t know why I stuck with the multiple episodes with some frightening the hell out of me!?  Nevertheless, there was a fascinating dialogue between two of the main characters in the series.  One asks that perennial question, “What will it be like when we die?” Her friend spins a fascinating answer that was part New Age, part Neuroscience and amazingly, part of the Christian response built on divine communion. 

This past week, I had the graced yet extremely difficult experience of being at the bedside of a dear friend as he nears the final chapter in his life.  Fear and anxiety, mixed with gratitude and hope were etched on his very thin face as he found himself surrounded by his family and friends.  As a minister of the Gospel for over 47 years, this experience of encountering the threshold between fleeting ‘now’ and what will be in that great and awe-filled threshold experience of ‘crossing over,’ is never an ordinary moment but, rather, an extraordinary moment of grace and blessing. 

My friends, as we near the end of our Liturgical Year with the Advent Season dawning in a few weeks, God’s Holy Word speaks again of the end times.  Our Christian theology has a fancy Greek name for our theological pondering of this moment.  It is called Eschatology from the Greek word, Eschaton or the end things or finality.  Christian eschatology flows from the truth of the Gospel as it speaks in parables and analogies about this moment.  For the strict rationalists, there is no exacting blueprint for precisely when, how and what this moment will be like.  Jesus uses stories, often drawn from his own Jewish heritage, to speak of this moment that he himself would face. 

However, we would be sorely mistaken if we concluded that Scripture has nothing to say about this moment.  The entire Good News can be summarized as simply a loving invitation to experience divine communion and friendship.  There is no more defining moment that distinguishes humanity from the rest of God’s creation than the capacity to experience a love that knows no end.  And so, through story, parable and analogy, Scripture speaks of the heart of death and the passage through it to eternity as simply the attainment of divine communion in a friendship with the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit and all the Holy Ones for eternity in one loving embrace.  And that, my friends, is Good News beyond all our imagining.  

Reflection for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

"Beware of the scribes, who like to go around in long robes
and accept greetings in the marketplaces,
seats of honor in synagogues, 
and places of honor at banquets.
They devour the houses of widows and, as a pretext
recite lengthy prayers. 
They will receive a very severe condemnation.” 

I must sheepishly admit, that whenever I hear this indictment against the scribes in the Gospel of Mark, I feel more that a bit uncomfortable.  We clergy in our ‘long robes’ do indeed accept greetings and seats of honor and places of honor at banquets.  While to the best of my recollection, I have never ‘devoured the houses of widows,’ I have indeed recited over the course of my life ‘lengthy prayers!’  However, before I go down the road of being too hard on myself, it is clear that the Lord is using his indicting example of the scribes to ultimately talk about the sin of hypocrisy that was so often mirrored in the life of the scribes. 

What the Lord was ultimately talking about was challenging all of us, especially those who have been invested with authority as leaders, whether that be religious, political or the myriad of leadership opportunities that may come our way in life, to live lives of authentic integrity.  Living lives of authentic integrity is the hard work of living the values we preach.  Failing to do that is the very definition of hypocrisy. 

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to watch the funeral service for a true American hero, General Colin Powell at the National Cathedral.  General Powell has been a hero of mine for many years.  I was moved by his autobiography of some years ago and have greatly admired his integrity as a soldier, a statesman, a loving husband and father and a citizen of sterling and enduring human virtue. 

In one of the several eulogies given at the service, mention was made of the insightful distinction between resume virtues and eulogy virtues by the author, David Brooks.  While Colin Powell’s resume virtues filled countless pages, his eulogy virtues that meant more to him and others who came to admire and love him in life, were basically the enduring virtues that make all persons great in the Kingdom of God:  empathy, selfless love, love of truth, honesty, faith and unwavering hope in God’s unfailing mercy.  It is precisely these virtues that endear one to others and make one truly great in the eyes of the Lord of life and love. 

Authentic integrity in leadership as a father, mother, teacher, clergy or President, flows from our unwillingness to live by the often-petty wants, expectations and desires of others and to be willing to listen to that inner voice of conscience as the north star of our lives.  Let that be the grace we pray for this day and every day of our lives.

Reflection for the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time

"Which is the first of all the commandments?" 
Jesus replied, "The first is this:
Hear, O Israel!
The Lord our God is Lord alone!
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,
with all your soul, 
with all your mind,
and with all your strength.
The second is this:
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
There is no other commandment greater than these." 

Amid the toxic political climate of the present moment where civility seems to be such a rare commodity, it is sad to observe that this toxicity appears to have metastasized into the world of faith and religion.  One needs only to be a keen observer of social media to sadly see that religious ‘wars’ are still alive and well in the 21stcentury.  Biblical fundamentalists battling more socially aware Christians; Traditional Latin Mass Catholics battling Vatican II Catholics; pro-Pope Francis Catholics battling pro-Benedict XVI Catholics; Bishops militating to bar Biden from the Eucharist battling Bishops and the Pope who encourage him to continue receiving the Eucharist!  My friends, the toxic litany of right verses left, perceived truth verses perceived error, crescendos with the passing of each day. 

As one would like to think that this might be a unique moment of acrimony in the Body of Christ, for students of Church history, alas, it merely narrates a tragic tendency among Christians of all ages to be at each other’s throat!  Sadly, it’s as old as Christianity itself. 

No wonder, then, that Jesus reminded his followers of all time of the two central commandments that remain the touchstone of authentic Christianity in the midst of the counterfeits that claim that name of authenticity.  To love God with our whole being – all that we have and are and to love our neighbor as ourselves.  That, my friends, remains the true gauge of living authentic Christianity and the measure that separate costly grace from what the Lutheran theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, called cheap grace, unwilling to pay the price of living the authentic life of the one whose name we bear. 

How easy it is for all of us to miss the forest for the trees in our incessant desire to be right that so easily slips into the ugliness of self-righteousness.  No amount of quoting scripture by heart, or the Catechism of the Catholic Church or the Code of Canon Law will substitute for the simple graciousness toward our sisters and brothers that reverences their inherent dignity as a belove child of God, worthy of respect and love, despite the difference of opinion or convictions we may hold.

Reflection for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time

“Jesus said to him in reply, "What do you want me to do for you?" 
The blind man replied to him, "Master, I want to see." 
Jesus told him, "Go your way; your faith has saved you." 
Immediately he received his sight
and followed him on the way. “

To be said to ‘have vision’ is far more than just the reality of seeing with our eyes.  Women and men of vision are individuals that see the possibilities in life and refuse to be limited by the challenges and stumbling blocks that are an inevitable part of our human journey through life. 

PBS is presently airing a new documentary about the pioneering women of incredible vision, Helen Keller. Blind, deaf, and mute from birth, Helen, nevertheless, was a woman of vision and inspiration for all down through the ages, who wrestle with physical challenges but refuse to be defeated by them. 

People of vision have a way of plunging the depth of their creativity so that even the physical limitations might not hinder their ability to live life fully and completely.  They are a continuing inspiration to us who so often see the ordinary challenges and frustrations of daily life stumbling blocks to living a full life. 

The beautiful Gospel story today of the blind Bartimaeus is a paradigm for all who wish to live life fully in Christ.  Bartimaeus was not only gifted with the miracle of physical sight by the Lord of life but, far more important, he was gifted with the vision of faith in Jesus, whom he believed in his heart of hearts would free him from the darkness of physical blindness. 

My friends, Jesus has come to gift each of us with the vision only faith can provide.  While many of us are gifted with physical sight, sadly, the blindness of prejudice and hatred of our sisters and brothers can enslave us in the darkest of blindness, a moral myopia that no corrective lenses can fix.  Such blindness of the heart can only be healed by the vision of faith that reverences the very presence of the living God in the hearts of our sisters and brothers. 

As we approach the living Lord of life and love this day, let us make the prayer of Bartimaeus our own. Master, I want to see!

Reflection for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

“For we do not have a high priest
who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses,
but one who has similarly been tested in every way,
yet without sin.”

Sadly, one of the best kept secrets in the Church in the United States is the beginning of a phenomenal process, called by Pope Francis in Rome, to reimagine the essence of who we are as a Church.  Not since the great Second Vatican Council in the early 1960’s, has the Church attempted such a thorough reexamination of ‘who’ and ‘what’ she is.  The nearly three-year process called the Synod on the Synod, is presently taking place in Rome and invites every local Church or Diocese to become engaged in this graced moment of renewal. 

Pope St. Paul VI who concluded the Council in 1965, wished that the grace that brought reform and renewal to our Church, not remain a one-time experience.  It is for that reason that he mandated periodic gathering of Bishops or Synods, that would bring together the collective wisdom of these successors of the apostles to address contemporary challenges that the Church would face in the coming years.  It would be through the Synod of Bishops that the grace of the Council would be extended in time. 

The Greek word synodos literally means a walking or coming together.  We are never a Church in isolation but always a Church together with our sisters and brothers in Christ.  The Second Vatican Council rediscovered the important concept of collaboration of all God’s Holy People in the mission and ministry of Christ.  While we often say that the Church is not a democracy, it is first and foremost a communion of all the Baptized.  That communion exists to image to our world the Christ who has not abandoned us but, in the words of the Letter to the Hebrews today is our high priest who, indeed, is able to sympathize with us because he himself has been tested in every way, yet without sin. 

While we so often image the Church as the hierarchy of Pope, Bishops and Priests who are there to teach the patrimony of belief, we must never forget that an equally important role of the Church is to listen.  In the memorable opening words of the Conciliar document “The Church in the Modern World:” The joys and hopes, the grief and anguish of the people of our time, especially of those who are poor or afflicted, are the joys and hopes, the grief and anguish of the followers of Christ as well.  

The Synod on the Synod then, will explore the many ways in which, as a listening Church, we can accompany God’s people in their pilgrim journey to encounter the Father.  Unfortunately, the toxic climate of the present moment that is rife with ideological and partisan factions claiming ‘the Truth’ of the Gospel invites a conversion of heart.  Historically, so often we have been a Church quick to judge and condemn rather than anxious to listen and encounter with a loving and merciful heart.   

At the conclusion of his homily at the opening Mass for the Synod on the Synod, Pope Francis has left us with these memorable words.  May they be a guide for us in this pilgrimage together: 

Dear brothers and sisters, let us have a good journey together!  May we be pilgrims in love with the Gospel and open to the surprises of the Holy Spirit.  Let us not miss out on the grace-filled opportunities born of encounter, listening and discernment.  In the joyful conviction that, even as we seek the Lord, he always comes with his love to meet us first.

Reflection for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time

"It is not good for the man to be alone.
I will make a suitable partner for him." 

Contrary to the American maxim that extols the ‘rugged individualist,’ God did not create humanity to live in isolation and loneliness.  From the first pages of the first book of the Hebrew Scriptures, the Book of Genesis, we hear of God’s divine intention for humanity.  Humanity was created for intimate communion.  Our lives are completed in the divine plan when we open ourselves in vulnerability to one another in friendship and love. 

Friendship with another is part of God’s plan for you and me.  That friendship takes on a sacramental dimension in the graced experience of marriage.  While marriage does not preclude friendship with others, there is something radically unique in this relationship that from the beginning of human existence has played a pivotal and foundational role in all societies.   

So important is the reality of marriage and the stability that it calls for in society that Jesus, in today’s Gospel, gives his familiar prohibition against breaking that irrevocable bond through divorce. 

Scripture scholars down through the centuries have wrestled with the meaning of what, for some, is a very hard saying.  Is it truly possible to give oneself completely and unreservedly in marriage to another for the rest of one’s life?  For many in our society, it is not.  It is said that 50% of marriages experience failure and end in divorce.  That statistic is no different for Catholic couples. 

Are we, then, dealing with an unrealistic ideal?  Humanly speaking, perhaps.  But for many couples who remain open to the grace of marriage that demands, patience, honesty, healing and forgiveness, the ideal can become reality. 

I remember as a young boy serving wedding ceremonies in my parish Church.  At that time, prior to the liturgical reforms of the Second Vatican Council, the priest would read at every wedding, the Exhortation before Marriage found in the ritual book.  After serving countless weddings (we did get a tip!), I could almost recite this exhortation by heart.  Its sentiments have served me well in the 46 years of my priesthood.  I share a portion of it with you today with the hope that its wisdom might inspire those who experience challenges in marriage to seek the grace of the sacrament they share: 

From this day on you will belong entirely to each other, you will be one in mind, one in heart, and one in affections. Whatever sacrifices you may hereafter be required to make to preserve this mutual life, always make them generously. Sacrifice is difficult and trying. Only love can make it easy, and perfect love can make it a joy. We are willing to give in proportion as we love. When love is perfect, the sacrifice is complete. God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, and the Son so loved us that He gave Himself for our salvation. “Greater love than this no man has, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” No greater blessing can come to your married life than pure conjugal love, loyal and true to the end. Our prayer for you is that this love, with which you join your hands and your hearts today, never fail, but grow deeper and stronger as the years go on.

Reflection for the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

There is no one who performs a mighty deed in my name
who can at the same time speak ill of me.
For whoever is not against us is for us.
Anyone who gives you a cup of water to drink
because you belong to Christ, 
amen, I say to you, will surely not lose his reward. 

So much of the theological vocabulary that we use as Catholics has its origin or roots within the Greek language.  While historically, we know that Jesus and his disciples spoke the common language of Israel, Aramaic, to ensure the widest audience for the Good News after the death and resurrection of the Lord, the remembrances of the apostles were collated and written in the Greek language, the original language of the Christian scriptures. 

The term ‘ecumenical’ popularized by the Second Vatican Council, has its root in the Greek word for ‘house’ – ‘oikos.’  It refers to the household of the Church that beautifully signifies the familial roots of what it means to be baptized member in Christ. We are the family of the Church. 

Sadly, though, within the 2000-year history of that family, the unity that Jesus prayed for his followers on the night before he died, ‘that all may be one,’ has witnessed the shattering and splintering of that unity.  It remains the scandal of Christianity that we Christians have failed to heed that prayer of the Lord and have let the seamless garment of Christian Unity be rent asunder down through the centuries. 

One of the primary goals of good Pope St. John XXIII in calling the Second Vatican Council in the early 1960’s was to give the Catholic Church’s affirmation to what had been occurring within other Christian communities since the early 20th century.  The ‘ecumenical movement’ was an attempt by Christian communities of diverse background, both Orthodox and Churches of the Reformation, to engage in prayerful dialogue in the hope of bringing healing to the scandal of Christian disunity. 

While the Catholic Church was late in engaging in this dialogue toward unity, the Council specifically in its authoritative pronouncements gave its blessing to this movement toward unity.  In its 1964 Decree on Ecumenism, the Council definitively taught that God’s spirit can and, indeed, has worked in the other Christian Churches.  Rather than taking a defensive stance toward other Christian communities, the Council in this groundbreaking decree desired to focus its attention on the elements that we share with our sisters and brothers who are, sadly, separated from us.  The tragedy of this separation was the consequence of arrogance, hubris and sin on the part of all Churches.  Under the universal grace of Christ, it is now the hard work of Christians of all communities to find opportunities to bring healing and unity within the one Church of Christ. 

Much has been accomplished in the 50 years since the Council as we earnestly pray and work for that Unity that Christ himself prayed for among his followers who bear his name.  Yet, much remains to be accomplished if that prayer is to be fully realized. 

That work toward Christian unity is not just the responsibility of the Pope, Bishops and clergy but is the challenge of every Christian who desires to be faithful to the words and works of Jesus.  Let us pray for the grace that we share in the grace of this blessed endeavor.

Reflection for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

“Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist,
there is disorder and every foul practice. 
But the wisdom from above is first of all pure,
then peaceable, gentle, compliant,
full of mercy and good fruits,
without inconstancy or insincerity.”  

Ever since end of the historically disastrous last Presidency, the inevitable ‘tell all books’ have flooded the market.  Each one presents the twists and turns of what happens when someone who is completely unsuited by temperament and the lack of personal integrity, and a moral center and conscience inhabits the Oval Office. 

The prevailing motif that runs throughout the vast majority of these books is a perfect reflection of the beginning of 16th verse of the 3rd chapter of the Epistle of James that is proclaimed today in our second reading:  Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is disorder and every foul practice.” 

James goes on to speak of the prized virtue of wisdom that runs throughout both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures.  Wisdom is that gift from above that is able to discern right from wrong.  It is that inner virtue that prizes integrity and a right conscience as we live out our lives.  Wisdom has little to do with educational exploits, IQ’s and academic accolades or how many degrees one may have.  The cornerstone of wisdom as James tells us is built on that which is pure, peaceable, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits without inconsistency or insincerity. 

Sadly, the world of politics presents us with countless examples of the highly educated devoid of wisdom.  While, paradoxically, the wise are often found in places we least expect: the faithful teacher who has given her or his life to opening the wonders and beauty of this world to their students; The blue-collar worker who is grateful for the gift of each day as he labors out of love for his family; Those who populate our convalescent homes who’ve learned from the challenging experiences of life and now share this precious leaning with another generation.  

True wisdom manifests itself in lives of integrity.  Wisdom people are willing to be a living sign of that beautiful prayer, attributed to St. Francis of Assisi: 

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy. 

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive, 
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, 
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.