Sunday Reflection - The sanctity of all life

Lorraine Hale pulled up to a traffic light at an intersection in Harlem.  On the sidewalk, next to the light, she saw a young female junkie who was nodding out.  Cradled in the junkie's arms was a tiny baby.  The light turned green and Lorraine drove on.  Then something told her to go back to the light.  She turned around, went back and said to the junkie: "Look, you've really got a problem, and you need help.  Take your baby to my mother's house.  She'll take care of it for you." 

The junkie looked at her but didn't understand.  Lorraine repeated her words about three times.  Then she wrote her mother's address on a piece of paper and put it in the junkie's hand.  The next morning the junkie showed up at the Hale house.  The baby was shaking, its nose was running, and it had a bad case of diarrhea.  The baby was suffering from drug withdrawal.  Babies born to mothers who are junkies come into life as drug addicts.  They become addicted in their mother's womb before they are born. 

Lorraine's mother, known to her neighbors as Mother Hale, took the baby and nursed it through the painful period of withdrawal.  Mother Hale didn't know it then, but that single act of kindness would change her life.  Soon word got around, and other junkies showed up on her doorstep with their babies. At one time Mother Hale had over 20 babies in her home.  And at another time she ran out of money after buying food and clothing for them. But she managed to scrape by. Over a period of 16-years Mother Hale has helped over 600 babies withdraw from drug.  "It usually takes about four to six weeks," she says. "They reach out to you in pain and cry, and all you can do is hold them and love them." 

Then one day something else happened to Mother Hale that changed her life. Someone told President Reagan about her work.  He was deeply moved and mentioned it in his State of the Union address to Congress in 1985. As he did, the television camera cut away to Mother Hale in the gallery.  It caught the 81-year-old grandmother with tears running down her cheeks. 

That did it.  Mother Hale became an overnight celebrity.  Newspaper reporters interviewed her and TV talk-show hosts invited her to appear on their programs.  Money poured in, and Mother Hale's work grew into a fully equipped center with a full-time staff.  In the years that followed, other cities contacted her for advice on how to set up similar centers to care for drug addicted babies. 

As we gather together around the Table of the Lord this Sunday, this story of Mother Hale concertizes for us today the image we have in today's Gospel of the Lord himself reaching out to embrace the children that came to him.  Both of these images are so appropriate for our annual commemoration each October of our commitment as Catholics to Respect Life, from conception to natural death.  Nothing on earth can replace the inherent dignity of the human person.  From the very first moment when life is conceived until we breath our final breath - the life of each person is precious in the eyes of God.

The Catholic Church continues to proclaim a consistent life ethic - that reverences the value of all life from “womb to tomb” - in the midst of a world and society that can so very easily devalue life of its meaning.  The inherent value of human life is not something that we give but rather is given to us by the God, in whose image we are created.    That intrinsic value is not determined by what is convenient, or productive, or healthy or young or beautiful but rather by the simple fact that there is life pulsing through us - a life which itself is gift from God. 

God's word today celebrates the beauty of human life in the innocence of children and in the intimacy of human love.  May the bonds of love that bind us together in the family of God renew our commitment to preserve, protect and defend the value of human life. And may the Lord bless us all the days of our lives.

Sunday Reflection - God works wherever God wills!

It is an amazing and heartwarming thing these days to realize that the Catechism of the Catholic Church, published almost 40 some years ago, as an adult compendium of Catholic belief, can be found in the most unlikely places! Not only can it be found in all the major secular book stores but is now readily available as an e-book download for Kindle and other e-readers! While the popularity of this important resource to the Catholic faith is indeed inspiring, I also hear some comments that worry me a bit. "Monsignor, I'm so happy that we have this catechism.  Now, there will be absolutely no doubt about what we believe as Catholics!" or "It's good to know that with the  Catechism, all questions about the faith will be answered in black and white."     

There is no question that this authoritative resource will prove to be an important point of doctrinal reference as to what it is we believe as Roman Catholics.  But, we should never fool ourselves into thinking that the unfathomable riches of the mystery of God can somehow be captured completely in human words and concepts.  I think all of us have seen the unsettling effect that Religious fundamentalism can have in our world - whether its an "Ayatollah" persecuting the "infidels" in Iran, a jihad against reason, or a Baptist preacher that unabashedly states that all Jews, Hindus, Moslems and Buddhists are going to hell because they have not accepted Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior. That's a heck of a lot of folks going to hell!  The tendency toward a simplistic and fundamentalist approach to the realities of faith is a temptation inherent in all religions - including our Catholic way of life. 

The late Fr. Aidan Kavanagh states that Fundamentalism of whatever sort is a mindless regression into fantasy undertaken out of an obsessive fear of risk and ambiguity.   The tendency inherent in all religious fundamentalism is the temptation to believe that one has all the answers.  It is the temptation toward an intolerance that cannot accept the fact that God could possibly work outside of one's own religious tradition or doctrinal system. It is the arrogance to believe that we're right and everyone else is wrong.  

In God's word today, we see this kind of mentality at work, when the seventy elders in our first reading from the Book of Numbers questioned whether the spirit of prophesy had actually come down upon Eldad and Medad who were not among their group - their "inner circle," if you will.  They wanted Moses to stop them from prophesying in the camp.  Moses, however, saw the real problem when he said to them, "Are you jealous....would that all the people of the Lord were prophets! Would that the Lord might bestow his spirit on them all!”    A similar theme is recounted in the Gospel of Mark.  One of the twelve, saw one who was not of their inner circle casting out a demon and tried to stop him.  But Jesus, rebukes him, and reminds him that the power of God can work even outside the disciples. 

And so, the word of God and the power of God can indeed work wherever God wishes.  As Catholics, we are graced to have been so richly blessed in the knowledge and love of God.  Through the Spirit alive in our Church, the integrity of the Gospel has been authentically handed down within the Church and its leaders for 2000 years.    Yet, as reminded in the Scriptures this day, this privileged grace should never be the pretext for an arrogant self-righteousness that thinks that we, as Catholics, have cornered the market on God and His ways.  Nor should it be a pretext for a discrimination that fails to reverence the presence of God and his mysterious ways in all people of good will and sincere conscience. 

Perhaps, the Church herself has stated its reverence and respect for other paths to God best when she proclaimed at the Second Vatican Council: 

         The Catholic Church rejects nothing of what is true and holy in [other] religions.  She has a high regard for the manner of life and conduct, the precepts and doctrines which, although differing in many ways from her own teaching, nevertheless often reflects a ray of that truth which enlightens all people....The Church reproves, as foreign to the mind of Christ, any discrimination against people or any harassment of them on the basis of their race, color, condition in life or religion. [Nostra Aetate 2,5] 

In light of these thoughts, our opening prayer today is a fitting prayer for all men and women who search for God in their lives no matter where that path may lead: 

         Continue to fill us with your gifts of love.  Help us to hurry toward the eternal life you promise and come to share in the joys of your kingdom.

Sunday Reflection - True wisdom

Most papal commentators would heartily agree that with the election of Pope Benedict XVI in 2005, the Cardinal electors elevated to the See of Peter one of the most brilliant and incisive theologians ever to preside as Bishop of Rome.  Trained as a systematic theologian in his native Germany, he was in his 30’s, as one of the theological ‘experts’ or ‘periti’ at the Second Vatican Council.  Returning to Germany as ordinary professor in theology at Regensburg, he taught and wrote with a passion, sharing the richness of our Catholic theological heritage with countless students until he was called by Pope John Paul II to take on the episcopal responsibilities of leading the local Church of Munich in 1977 as its Archbishop.  Pope John Paul II eventually called him to Rome and appointed him Prefect of the Congregation of the Faith, to oversee and maintain the orthodoxy and integrity of our Catholic faith.  It was always his fondest hope to retire from this position and continue his theological writing, but that was not to be God’s will. 

His passion for theology was evidenced in a lecture he gave at his beloved University of Regensburg, one year after his election as Pope.   By now more than enough ink has been spilled and commentaries given in the media regarding that talk given to the faculty at Regensburg University in Germany.  In his speech, the Holy Father quoted a 13thcentury Byzantine Emperor, Manuel II Paleologus in learned dialogue with a Persian Islamic scholar.   I can’t help but think that Benedict must be identifying with the words that we have heard today from our First reading taken from the Book of Wisdom:  

The wicked say: Let us beset the just one, because he is obnoxious to us; he sets himself against our doings, reproaches us for transgressions of the law and charges us with violations of our training….. 

Indeed, prophets in whatever age they may live have never been popular since the role of the prophet is often to tell people what they “need to hear” rather than what “they want to hear.”  In the mindless world of the fanatic fundamentalist there is never room for dialogue.  For implied in the very word – dialogue – there is a desire to arrive at common meaning and common understanding that can lead to mutual respect that is rooted in wisdom.  Radical fundamentalists be they Muslim, Jewish or Christian, have no need of dialogue with others since from their perspective they are right and everyone else is wrong.  

The great wisdom of Catholicism down through the centuries has been to reverence the presence of God that can indeed break into our world in whatever way God wills.  Richly nourished by our Jewish heritage and its profound reverence for the living Word of God in the Scriptures, we also acknowledge, as Catholics, the living presence of God that is reflected, though imperfectly, in the great religious and spiritual traditions of our world including the way of Islam.  This was one of the profound insights of the Second Vatican Council. 

Pope Saint John Paul II was keenly aware that faith and its expressions in the three great monotheistic religious traditions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam, have often in history been agents of division and conflict in our world rather than avenues for peace, unity and understanding.   It was for this reason that one of the driving passions of his pontificate was to do whatever he could to nurture dialogue and greater understanding among those who profess these three great religious traditions. 

This dialogue, however, cannot be naïve in simplistically ignoring the genuine differences that divide us.  In our second reading today, from the Letter of James, we read the practical consequence of people who practice wisdom: 

But the wisdom from above is first of all pure, then peaceable, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits, without inconstancy or insincerity.  And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace for those who cultivate peace. 

Eager to be a servant of genuine and sincere dialogue yet also one who was not blind to the obstacles that still exist, Benedict sought the common ground of “reason” as a fruitful path for all people of faith to be at the service of greater unity and understanding in our fractured world of today. His primary goal in his carefully crafted and eloquent speech was to underscore the critically important interplay between faith and reason that is now more than ever desperately needed both in the cultures of the East as well as the West.  Lost in all the histrionics by the radical Isalmists that ensued following the lecture, was Benedict’s sharp critique of the West in its exaggerated tendency to exalt a science and technology that is devoid of faith and its strong spiritual heritage. 

In today’s Gospel, Jesus strongly challenges those followers of his who have confused the way of the Good News with grasping for power and prestige. In some respects, we in the West have exalted the power and prestige of science and technology as the only verifiable means whereby the truths of human existence can be found.   As followers of the Lord Jesus in this critically important moment in history, we are called to shape our lives and our world not by a mindless religious fanaticism that rejects modernity or a jihad against reason, but rather by nurturing anew a profound respect for a fruitful dialogue between a living faith and modern scientific inquiry.    This kind of dialogue, however, has never been easy.  It demands mutual respect, patient listening, civility and a common desire to nurture more unity and understanding within the human family rather than division and hate.    

It is truly regrettable that the more fanatical segments of Islam could not have heard this invitation from Benedict, to an honest and candid dialogue but rather were more interested in seizing on an isolated quote that he carefully used to illustrate a critically important historical point that faith must flourish in the environment of freedom and not by violent coercion; that the God whom we supposedly worship in common could not possibly condone the slaughter of innocent people in the name of Religion.   

Let us pray that out of these moments of tension, mindless passion may give way to reasoned understanding as we work together to build bridges among all of God’s beloved children.

Sunday Reflection - Be Strong, Fear Not

Franklin Roosevelt uttered one of the most memorable lines in all Presidential inaugural addresses on March 4th, 1933.  In the midst of the crippling Depression that had literally paralyzed the country and after a decisive win over the incumbent President, Herbert Hoover, the new President, literally crippled himself by polio, uttered these words to an anxious nation,

“This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”

My sisters and brothers, fear can indeed paralyze all of us. Yet fear can be a powerful force in all of our lives for courage and change. The fear of some death dealing disease can be a powerful motivation to change old habits. The fear of loneliness can motivate us to break out of our narcissistic worlds and seek personal fulfillment in love, friendship and commitment.  The fear and desperation for individuals and families living in countries where freedom is deprived and economic opportunity elusive can be the motivation to endure incredible hardship to taste freedom and security.  

Isaiah the Prophet in our first reading is speaking to a people who know fear.  Their land is threatened by invasion by the powerful Babylonians who will eventually lay waste to their homeland and take them captive into Babylon.  Isaiah speaks words of encouragement and promise.  He reminds his people that their hearts need not be frightened.  For they are to take courage in the Lord, the God of the Covenant.  He will be their vindication.  The psalmist David reiterates this conviction in one of his most beloved Psalms, the 23rd, where we read, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff comfort me.

God’s great vindication would, of course, be made manifest and come to fulfillment in Jesus, the anointed one of God.  In the Gospels, signs of that ‘newness and change’ were invariably heralded by the wonderful healing stories, one of which we have just heard this morning.  In the ancient world, illness was often perceived as a sign of demonic possession and the work of the evil one.  And so the people bring to the Lord a man who is unable to hear and whose speech is crippled by an impediment.  One can only imagine the isolation that this man must have felt, imprisoned in a world where the simple reality of communication was so limited.  The fear must have been overpowering.  

In a gesture so characteristic of the Lord who was unwilling to make a spectacle or show of his power, Jesus takes the man aside, away from the crowds.  The gospel tells us that he lays hands on him, he touches the man in a gesture of intimacy and love.  There is a certain earthy intimacy in the Gospel narrative that says that Jesus touched his ears and tongue with his saliva.  And then the miracle of healing occurred.  He could hear.  He could speak.  His world was radically changed and he was no longer shackled by his impediments.

My friends, these miracle stories are the great metaphors that speak to men and women of every age shackled by whatever may hold us in fear; whatever may bind us in our small worlds of frightened isolation; whatever may truly keep us free from experiencing the fullness of life in Christ.

What is it that may be holding us captive this morning?  What is the fear that may be paralyzing you from experiencing the fullness of life in Christ?  My friends, the good news is that the same Jesus, who healed the deaf and mute man in today’s Gospel, is here with us still.  His healing touch awaits our anxious faith to reach out to him and be made whole again.  That is the good news of this day.  Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Sunday Reflection - The essence of God's law

An elderly monk, Father Benedict, was returning to his monastery from a journey.  With him was a young novice, Brother Ardens.  It had been raining and the road was muddy.  When they came to a dip in the road still covered with water, they found a beautiful young girl standing there afraid to proceed, lest her beautiful long dress be soiled.  “Come, dear,” Father Benedict said when he saw her predicament.  “I’ll carry you.”  He picked the girl up in his arms and carried her across to higher ground.  She thanked him, and the two monks walked on in silence. 

When they reached the monastery, Brother Ardens felt he had to say something about the incident he had witnessed.  “Monks are supposed to keep away from women, especially from beautiful young girls.  How could you pick up in your arms that girl we met on the road?”

 “Dear Brother Ardens,” the older monk replied, “I put that girl down as soon as we reached dry ground.  You have carried her in your thoughts right into the monastery.”   

 The young novice was like the Pharisees in the gospel reading of today: zealous, as many young people are, and determined to see all the rules and regulations carefully observed.  The ardent young monk never realized that this could mean failing in something even more important: helping someone in need.

 Two of our readings today are about rules and regulations.  In the first reading Moses tells the people “not to add to God’s law or subtract from it.”  He also tells them that the ten commandments, which embody God’s law, are a privilege and a gift.  “What great nation has statutes and decrees that are as just as this whole law which I am setting before you today?”  The commandments are not a fence to hem people in.  They are ten signposts pointing the way to fulfilment and happiness.  

 This view of God’s law as a special privilege is central to Jewish religion.   It was Jesus’ view: imparted to him at home by Mary and Joseph, and in the synagogue school at Nazareth.  In our gospel reading Jesus accuses the Pharisees of perverting God’s law.  “You disregard God’s commandment but cling to human tradition.”  The Pharisees were not bad people.  They were good people, and deeply religious.  Their failure in regard to God’s law is common to religious people – ourselves included.  Jesus’ rebuke to these Pharisees is not just long ago and far away.  It remains a warning for to us today.

Religious people (and that means us) can pervert God’s law in the two ways indicated by Moses in our first reading: by adding to it, or by subtracting from it. Those who subtract from the law are concerned only with fulfilling their “minimum obligation.”  They are always asking: “Do I have to?”  That is a child’s question, not an adult’s.  Even the tone of voice in which it is asked shows its immaturity.  

 Catholics who go through life asking, “Do I have to?” know all their minimum obligations by heart.  They even know (or think they know) how late they can come to Sunday Mass, and how early they can leave, and still have it “count.”  There is one thing, however, which these minimum-obligation Catholics do not know: joy.  If your primary concern is finding out how little you need to do for God and his church, then you will experience these minimum obligations not as light, but as heavy burdens.  Why is that?

People who concentrate on minimum obligations are living with God on the fringe of their lives.  They don’t realize that as long as we keep God on the fringe, he will always be a threat to us.  God will always be trying to move into the center.  Show me a person whose religion is a source of joy, and I will show you someone whose life is centered on God.  

That is how Jesus lived.  Like all Jews, Jesus treasured God’s law: it was at the heart of his personal religion.  Can you imagine Jesus asking, “Do I have to?”  or being concerned about fulfilling his minimum obligation?  He did that automatically.  Jesus never asked, “How much to I have to do for God?”  He asked instead, “How much can I do?”  Jesus was like a person in love.  No one in love ever asks, when it is a question of doing something for the beloved, “Do I have to?”  People in love are continually looking for new ways to express their love through generosity and self-sacrifice.   

What about Moses’ other warning: not to add to God’s law?  Who would ever do that, you ask?  More people than you might think. We add to God’s law when we think that by going beyond our minimum obligation we can gain extra credit – a rising credit balance in some heavenly bank which God is bound to honor.  Extra-credit Catholics forget that, though God is unbelievably generous, he never owes us anything.  It’s the other way round.  We owe him everything.  “When you have done everything you have been commanded to do,” Jesus says (and which of us has?), “say, ‘We are useless servants.  We have done no more than our duty’” (Lk 17:10).  If concentrating on minimum obligations is the failing of the lax and lazy, thinking we can earn extra credit with God is a failing of those who are specially devout.  It is sobering to realize that the people to whom Jesus most often speaks severely in the gospels are the specially devout.

 “You hypocrites,” Jesus says in the gospel.  He spoke those words not to open and notorious sinners, but to people who prided themselves on the exact fulfilment of God’s law; who actually went far beyond what the law required.  Their error lay in supposing that this gave them a claim on God which he was bound to honor.  We never have a claim on God.  God has a claim on us, and it is an absolute claim.  

 God’s love and our salvation are not things we can earn.  They are God’s free gift.  God bestows these gifts on us not because we are good enough, but because he is so good that he wants to share his love with us.  God’s law is not the list of rules and regulations that we must first obey before God will love us and bless us.  God’s law is, rather, the description of our grateful response to the love and blessing which God has already bestowed on us out of sheer generosity.   

Does this mean that there is no “just reward” for those who do try to obey God’s law?  Of course not.  God’s reward for faithful service is certain.  Jesus tells us this in many gospel passages.  He warns us, however, that those who try to calculate their reward in advance will be disappointed.  The people who are most richly rewarded – who are literally bowled over by God’s generosity – are those who never stop to reckon up their reward because they are so keenly aware of how far short they still fall of God’s standard.  

 If we want to experience God’s generosity (and is there anyone here who does not?), we must learn to stand before God with empty hands.  Then we shall experience the joy of Mary, who in her greatest hour, when she learned – astonished, fearful, and confused – that she was to be the mother of God’s Son, responded with words which the church repeats in its public prayer every evening:

“The hungry he has given every good thing, 

          while the rich he has sent empty away” (Lk 1:53).

Sunday Reflection - Bread of life discourse - IV

What does it mean to be a person of commitment? I suppose most of us would describe such an individual as one who is willing to take a stand in life.  A person of commitment is one that makes choices out of deeply held principles.  A person of commitment is one who is willing to shape his or her life on the solid ground of conviction.   A person of commitment is one who understands well the importance of courage in life.   For in a world and society where what is convenient plays such an important role in determining our choices, to go against what is popular, to challenge the status quo often takes a great deal of courage, commitment, personal principle and integrity. To live our lives out of commitment and to be a person of moral integrity has never been easy.  For to do so will often require the courage to be prophetic in a world and society that is uneasy in the presence of prophets. For a prophet is one that has the uncanny ability to see through the lies that can so often motivate a person, a society or a nation.  

St. Paul in his letter to the Ephesians presents a vision of relationship between a husband and wife that in many ways goes against the grain of what we see so often in our world today - marriages of convenience rather than marriages built on principle, commitment and courage. While St. Paul reflects the prevalent bias of his age which failed to see the radical equality between a husband and wife, it would be a tragedy if we failed to hear the most important and radically prophetic message that Paul is setting before us.  In a society that viewed women as the property of husbands and possessing no legal rights whatsoever, Paul speaks of the indispensable reality of love that must bind a husband and wife together in a communion of mind and heart that reflects to the world the way the Lord himself loves the Church - the community of believers - a love that is permanent, faithful and life-giving.

That love for the Church is signed and sealed in the greatest gift that Christ left as a lasting remembrance of his presence among us - the gift of the Holy Eucharist.  For the past few Sundays, we have been reflecting on the sixth chapter of St. John’s Gospel, which scripture scholars refer to as the “Bread of Life Discourse”.   In the life of the Church, the Eucharist remains the holy meal which celebrates the sacrificial love of the one whose presence continues to give life to us all - for love is indeed stronger than death.

Yet, paradoxically, this fundamental dogma of Catholic belief and practice, which was the cause of scandal and rejection for the followers of the Lord in today’s Gospel, continues to be a stumbling block and point of contention for latter day Christians.  Recent surveys of Catholic belief and practice have surfaced an unsettling large number of Catholics who no longer believe in the Real Presence of the Lord in the Holy Eucharist.  Some see it as merely a pious remembrance of what took place at the Last Supper - rather than the Body and Blood, soul and divinity of the Risen Lord - a position which was the occasion for a Reformation in the Church that split the unity and harmony of the Body of Christ for Centuries.

Sadly, the skeptical continue to join their voices with those who said to Jesus, “This sort of talk is hard to endure!  How can anyone take it seriously?”  Yet, it was Peter who continues to confirm the faith of the Church when he courageously raised his voice in faith and conviction to say to Christ, “Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of eternal life.”

My brothers and sisters, to be Catholic is to have the courage to believe with integrity the faith of the Church.  To be Catholic is to go beyond “picking and choosing” what may be convenient to believe and with courage take a stand to believe that which has sustained, saints and sinners, down through the centuries. To be Catholic is live the mystery we celebrate at this holy table and to be what we receive this day, the Body of Christ for the life of the world.

In the wake of the recent damning Pennsylvania grand jury report regarding the sexual exploitation and abuse of over 1000 minors over the course of 70 years by over 300 priests, together with the tacit complicity and ‘cover-up’ by bishops and religious superiors, the message of ‘courage’ in today’s Gospel is all the more important.  Our ultimate loyalty as Catholics must never be to a priest, bishop or even to the Holy Father.  The source of our courage and the focus of our loyalty must always be to Christ, whose unfailing and searing light must continually be shed on the darkness wherever it may be found.  It has often been said that, “God writes straight with crooked lines!” This catastrophic moment for the Church that has understandably thrown into doubt the moral voice of her leaders, could very well be the opportunity for a new inner reformation, challenging the Church and her leaders to a courageous honesty as well as a humbling acknowledgement of its complicity in so great a betrayal of trust of God’s holy people.  We pray that a courageous new group of leaders, both lay and clergy, will be like the phoenix of old, rising with new life and vigor out of the ashes of death and destruction.

Joshua challenged the Israelites to ‘make a decision’ as to whom they would serve - the gods of their ancestors or the Lord of the Covenant.  Let us join Joshua in being a people who have made the choice to serve the Lord.  For he is our God who gives unending life through His Son, the food of eternity.

Sunday Reflection - I am the Bread of Life III

Britain and Ireland can hold a special place for weary European travelers who are often frustrated on the continent in trying to make themselves understood using their Italian, French, German or Spanish apps on our iPhones!   Unless one is conversant in one of these languages, it can be pretty tough sometimes communicating especially in restaurants with waiters looking on and thinking to themselves, “what is this person trying to say?”   However, arriving in England or Ireland, there is this wonderful sense of being at home - at least with the Language.  Though the English and Irish may find our accents and turns of phrase a bit odd at times, nevertheless, we Americans can generally be understood.  For us as Catholic Christians, a common language in these lands is not the only reality that binds us together.  Our common faith heritage as Catholics is a reality that was rooted in these ancient lands from the dawn of the Christian message.

While St. Augustine has traditionally been called the great evangelizer of the British Isles, arriving there in the 7th century from Rome, historians now tell us that Christianity most probably arrived in England centuries before the arrival of St. Augustine.  Merchants from Rome traveling to this outpost of the Roman Empire were the first evangelizers to bring the new teachings of the Galilean rabbi to this far off land.     Within the past 50 years, archeologists have unearthed valuable artifacts in Britain that now date the coming of Christianity to as early as the late 2nd century to early 3rd century.

One of the most fascinating archaeological finds in recent years was a Roman Villa obviously owned by a wealthy Roman merchant in Lullingstone which is in Kent.  It is built in the typical Roman manner with a large open inner courtyard with rooms on all four sides.  One of the rooms has captured the attention of Christian archeologists for on the wall is the large symbol in mosaic of the first two letters of the Greek name for Christ - Chi and Rho.  On another wall there is a fresco of a man with arms raised in prayer. Archeologists have concluded that this room was undoubtedly a Christian house chapel where the community gathered around the holy table to celebrate the Eucharist.  It was here that the merchant together with his household that might even have included slaves, gathered to do what Christians have done for nearly 2000 years. 

These early Christians, often fearful of persecution for following the new way of Christ, were faithful to the words that we have heard today from the 6th Chapter of St. John’s Gospel:

I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world. 

Through the intervening years of the Christian Tradition, it has been the Eucharist that has anchored our faith and shaped our identity as the followers of the Lord.  Theological reflection by the wise and great theologians of the Church has attempted to unpack for us the meaning of this central aspect of our Catholic way of life.  The Catechism of the Catholic Church summarizes much of this theology when it reminds us that in the Eucharist we celebrate a reality that is a meal, a sacrifice and a presence.

First of all, the Eucharist is a meal. One of the most characteristic gestures of the Lord Jesus was his preoccupation with sharing meals with others. To share a meal for Jesus was more than just to satisfy a biological need but rather an opportunity to share his life with others.  In the midst of a meal Jesus taught compassion and forgiveness.  In the midst of a meal he showed us how to love one another in simple and humble service as he washed the feed of his disciples.  And finally, in the midst of a meal - the great Passover meal of remembrance - he spoke of bread and wine as his very own body and blood given as a perpetual remembrance of who and what He is for each of us.

Second, the Eucharist is a sacrifice.  The deepest meaning of the Last Supper gift of the Eucharist cannot be fully understood without setting our eyes on what was to take place the next day at Calvary.   Love without sacrifice is counterfeit.  When we love, truly love another, we are willing to give of ourselves often in heroic and utterly selfless ways.  As he hung upon the Cross with arms outstretched, Jesus was saying to each of us that his reconciling and healing love for us went beyond mere words to sealing it in his own death which would eventually be transformed to life unending in the Resurrection.   Greater love no one has than to lay down one’s life for a friend.

Finally, the Eucharist is a presence.  The holy bread which we break and the cup that we share at the Eucharistic celebration are viewed in Catholic Tradition to be the “real presence” of the Lord, His Risen body and blood, soul and divinity.  That holy presence is not merely an empty sign remembering a past event, but rather the living reality of a God who cannot be contained by time and space and whose love continues to embrace us as food for our journey back to Him.  For, the one who feeds on this bread shall life forever. It is important to keep in mind that our Catholic Tradition teaches that this presence is not contingent upon the faith of the believer – that is, if one truly believes it to be the living presence of the Lord, then it is. If one does not believe then the elements remain simply bread and wine.  Catholic doctrine teaches that the holy presence of the Lord is an objective reality that transcends the subjective belief of the individual.  It is a substantial presence given to us by Jesus first and foremost as an opportunity for loving communion with him and secondly as a living presence for prayer and contemplation.

Whether in a house church in 3rd century Britain, a great Cathedral in France, St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, or this place that is holy by our gathering in faith - the Lord continues to be with us in the Eucharist which remains a holy meal of sacrificial love which celebrates His abiding presence with us until He comes in Glory.

Sunday Reflection - I am the Bread of Life II

A scriptural fundamentalist is one who takes each word of the Bible as the literal truth.  Consequently, as we read the creation narrative in the Book of Genesis and it speaks of the earth and all of created reality, taking place in ‘seven days’ – for the scriptural literalist – creation indeed took place in seven days, regardless of what science might posit.  We Catholics, however, have a much more nuanced approach to how God’s truths are conveyed through His revealed word in the Bible.  While we do indeed hold that the Scriptures are the revealed Word of God, we acknowledge that His Word comes to us in human words and images, conditioned by the time and culture when it was written. Consequently, most Catholic scripture scholars would state that the core truth that the creation narratives were conveying in Genesis was not the scientific dynamics of how the world and created reality came to be, but the far more important truth that God is the author of all creation; that what is created by God’s hand is ‘good,’ and that humanity images the very goodness of God Himself.  We Catholics leave it to science to work out the various theories of cosmic creation and the billions upon billions of years by which it came about.

With this in mind, I have always been mystified by how Biblical fundamentalists might so literally interpret Genesis but when it comes to the 6th chapter of St. John’s Gospel, the chapter that we have been focusing on these past few Sundays, literalism gives way to viewing what the Lord said poetically, metaphorically and symbolically.  In other words, when the Lord tells us today:

I am the living bread that came down from heaven;

whoever eats this bread will live forever;

and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.

So often I hear my Biblical literalist friends object that Jesus really didn’t mean that!  He was speaking metaphorically, symbolically or poetically, merely to capture the attention of his hearers.

My sisters and brothers, we Catholics together with our Orthodox brothers and sisters, have, for nearly 2000 years taken these life-giving words of Jesus as the literal truth.  It is precisely this teaching that informs and gives breadth and context to the meal that Jesus shared the night before He died.  For in the midst of the Jewish Passover meal, Jesus would leave to His followers and would gift the Church, a lasting memorial of His presence in the simple earthly elements of Bread and Wine.  While our Catholic theology on the Eucharist has wrestled down through the centuries with the question, ‘how,’ this can be through such revered terms as ‘transubstantiation,’ the core truth, the ‘why’ of so great a gift, should never be forgotten. Just as the manna given by God’s hand to the Israelites sustained them in their desert journey, so too, the gift of the Lord’s Body and Blood, his risen and substantial presence in the Holy Eucharist, sustains and gives us courage and strength in our pilgrimage through this life to the next.  

While we refer to one’s last communion by the beautiful term, viaticum – literarily, ‘food for the journey,’ in a very real sense every reception of the Holy Eucharist, is indeed ‘food for our journey.’  For, as the Lord has promised, it is his abiding friendship and real presence that will companion us through this life to the life that will have no end.

Reflection - Feast of the Transfiguration

On August 6th, 1978, an eighty-year-old Italian bishop died, following a massive heart attack.  Known most of his life as Giovanni Battista Montini, he had taken the name Paul VI in 1963, when he was elected Bishop of Rome in succession to the greatly beloved Pope John XXIII, now canonized a saint of the Church.  Paul’s fifteen-year pontificate was difficult.  He carried through to its conclusion in December 1965 the Second Vatican Council, which had been called by his predecessor.  That alone was a great achievement.  For the Church, it was a great blessing.  But as the famed English convert, John Henry Newman, wrote a century earlier: “There has seldom been a Council without great confusion after it.”  

Quoting selectively from the Council texts, some Catholics claimed that the Council had changed nothing, others that it had repudiated the Church’s past and changed everything.  Both were wrong.  The resulting confusion deeply grieved Pope Paul.  He spoke at one point of “the smoke of Satan in the Church.”  

Before Easter 1978 Pope Paul’s longtime friend, the Christian Democrat leader Aldo Moro, a devout Catholic, was seized by “Red Guard” terrorists who for fifty-five days played a cat-and-mouse game with their prisoner.  Publicly as well as privately the Pope moved heaven and earth to save the man he had known and loved since Moro’s student days.       

On May 9th Moro’s bullet riddled body was found in the trunk of a parked car in central Rome.  Preaching at Moro’s funeral four days later, the anguished Pope quoted Job’s complaint to God, asking how God could permit such evil.  Pope Paul’s faith never faltered.  But he could have been forgiven for thinking in the closing weeks of his life that a cloud seemed to have shut out the sunshine of God’s love.  How fitting that God called his faithful servant home on the feast which reminds us that the cloud is the sign not of God’s absence, but of his presence.

The cloud symbolizing God’s presence appears often in Scripture.  God led his people by a cloud following their deliverance from slavery in Egypt.  There was a cloud on Mount Sinai when Moses received the ten commandments (Exod. 24:13).  A cloud received the risen Lord into heaven at Jesus’ Ascension (Acts 1:9).  And a cloud descended on Jesus at his Transfiguration. 

From the cloud Peter, James, and John hear a voice speaking the same words uttered at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my beloved Son.”  For a brief moment, there on the mountain, the veil between time and eternity, between earth and heaven, was lifted.  Jesus’ three friends were permitted to catch a momentary glimpse of the invisible, spiritual world of God.  

The concluding words spoken from the cloud – “Listen to him” –  express the significance of this mystery for Jesus’ friends: not only for the three present there on the mountain, but for all the friends of Jesus, ourselves included.  

We, the friends and followers of Jesus Christ, are the company of those who listen to his words.  Jesus does not grant to us, any more than he granted to Peter, James, and John, the continuous vision of his glory.  We live not on the mountain-top of great spiritual experiences, but in the valley of life’s ordinary duties.  There we do not look for dazzling visions from beyond.  Instead we listen for God’s voice.

Perhaps you’re wondering: Does God really speak to us?  When?  How?  God is speaking to us all the time.  He speaks in his Holy Word, in the teaching of his Church, through the circumstances of daily life, in the promptings of conscience, and in the needs of those whom we encounter along life’s way.  In the world to come it will be different.  There we shall seeGod.  In this world, however, we live by faith, not by sight.  

That is the way Jesus lived.  How bitterly his faith was tested as he passed through his own dark valley we learn from his anguished cry on the cross; “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mt 27:46).  Jesus calls us to follow him on the way of the cross: to endure whatever trials and sufferings life may bring.  The way of the cross will lead us, as it led Jesus, through suffering to death.  But beyond death for us, as for him, is resurrection to life eternal.  Then faith will give way to sight.  Then our earthly pilgrimage beneath an often-overcast sky will yield to the uninterrupted vision of God’s glory.  We shall have reached our true homeland, the heavenly city, which (as we read in the final book of the Bible) needs neither sun nor moon, “for the glory of God gives it light, and the lamp is the Lamb” (Rev. 21:23).

Now, however, is the time not for seeing, but for hearing.   We listen for the Father’s voice and heed his command, as he speaks to us the words first uttered to those three friends of Jesus on the mountain two thousand years ago;

         "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him."

Sunday Reflection - I am the Bread of Life

In the waning years of World War II in Germany, the genocidal madness of the Nazi regime was determined to wipe all traces of the Jews out of Germany and her conquered territories.  Hitler, ensconced in his Berlin headquarters and in his growing paranoid madness, was determined to obliterate the children of Israel from the face of the earth. Little did he or his henchmen know, that right under their nose, some 5000 Jews were in hiding right there in the capital of the Third Reich.  The fascinating story of how this was accomplished is narrated in Barbara Lovenheim’s book entitled, Survival in the Shadows: Seven Jews Hidden in Hitler’s Berlin.  The author tells the amazing story of the survival of members of the Arndt, Lewinsky and Gumpel families.  They were able to elude capture due to the heroic courage of German gentiles who risked their own lives to provide hiding and shelter for these seven Jews.  One of the most difficult aspects of their sojourn in hiding was simply finding food to survive.  With diminishing provisions as both the Americans and Russians were drawing closer to Berlin, these families found themselves near to starving.  One evening, a stranger left bread made from barley near their hiding place.  It was this simple gesture that spelled the difference between life and death for them. The story ends happily with their emancipation from hiding by the Russians.  They eventually were able to emigrate to the United States and lived out their years and eventually dying of natural causes.  Yet, they would never forget the heroism of their friends and that simple gift of bread that sustained them until they were freed.

My sisters and brothers, as we continue our reflection on the 6thChapter of St. John’s Gospel, the bread of Life discourse, our first reading taken from the Book of Exodus speaks of the Lord’s providential care for the Israelite people as they journey in the wilderness toward the promised land. Hungry and filled with regret having left the security of Egypt, they grumble before the Lord.  The Lord in His loving kindness once again hears their cry and sends them food in the wilderness – a mysterious bread-like substance called manna, to satisfy their hunger and save them in their journey.

This reading is a perfect segue for our Gospel selection from John. The 6thChapter of John’s Gospel, as you might remember from last week, begins with the famous story of the feeding of the five thousand from the five barley loaves of bread and two small fish.  John’s gospel, rich with symbolism, has Jesus offering thanks over the bread before distribution and miraculously these simple elements are able to feed the multitude gathered with leftovers filling 12 baskets.  The number 12 is an important number in the scriptures and in fact appears in 187 places.  It symbolizes fullness, completion and perfection.  Of course, this story has dramatically captured the attention of its readers down through the centuries as it introduces one of the pivotal teachings of the Christian faith – the gift of the Lord’s own body and blood, the food of his living presence, in our hearts for our own journey of faith.

Though their physical hunger has been satisfied, the crowds continue to pursue Jesus.  There is another hunger that propels them.  Jesus knowing their hearts admonishes them and us not to ‘work for food that will perish’ but for ‘food that endures for eternal life.’  This segment of John’s gospel reaches its crescendo in the foundational teaching that continues to shape our identities and our faith down through the centuries, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.”

So profound and enduring is this teaching that we hear it echoed in the beautiful words of St. Ignatius of Antioch, one of the Apostolic Fathers who received the good news of Christ from the Apostles themselves.  Writing in the year 110, St. Ignatius develops this theme of the Lord proclaimed by John the Evangelist:

"Come together in common, one and all without exception in charity, in one faith and in one Jesus Christ, who is of the race of David according to the flesh, the son of man, and the Son of God, so that with undivided mind you may obey the bishop and the priests, and break one Bread which is the medicine of immortality and the antidote against death, enabling us to live forever in Jesus Christ." 

The ‘medicine of immortality’ and the ‘antidote against death,’ that is indeed the power of the gift that you and I will receive in the Eucharist.  The ‘Amen’ that we say to the Body and Blood of the living Christ, should be our heartfelt affirmation of our need for so great a gift, the food of eternity that brings us the freedom that can only be found in Christ our Savior.  For that, let us give God Thanks and Praise.

Sunday Reflection - Hungers of the Heart

In a dramatic gesture to underscore the plight of immigrants fleeing both starvation, disease and often, persecution, in their home countries, Pope Francis made his first pastoral visit outside Rome as Pope to the Italian island of Lampedusa in July, 2013.  The island is only 80 miles from Tunisia and over recent years, tens of thousands of migrants have made the dangerous journey, often in small, overcrowded and rickety boats, to seek a new life. Sadly, thousands have tragically drowned, including countless women and children, as they risk a better life.  The pictures on television and in the newspaper tell the story in all its horrendous and heart-rending detail.  

The great tragedy is that their simplest need, for a bit of food and fresh water, cannot be realized.  They are now without food and what water that is available is often tainted with the cholera virus.  Paradoxically, that which seems to offer life, robs life of its vitality through the disease that it carries.

Few of us will ever experience the kind of hunger that these men, women and children are experiencing.   Few of us will die from hunger or cholera because our water supply has been compromised with disease.  Yet, each of us at times must struggle with another kind of hunger, as we thirst for meaning and purpose in our lives.   

The staggering incidents of teenage suicide, the opioid crisis in our land that claims more lives than recent wars, the endless stories of marital failure, of violence in our streets, of wholesale disregard for the sanctity of human life, point to a disease of the heart that is looking for love and fulfillment in all the wrong places.

God's word today speaks of the compassion that Jesus feels for the crowds that came to hear his teaching.  He sees not only their human hunger but much more importantly their desire to be fed by the word of life - to satisfy the restlessness of their human heart. Tradition has it that the real miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes was in the fact that each person who received their small portion of bread and fish, shared it with those around them.  And so, in their kindness and generosity the hunger of the many was indeed satisfied and in fact there was more than enough food left over.

For the next four weeks, the Scriptures at the Sunday Eucharist will open up for us the meaning of the Eucharist as food that can satisfy our deepest hangers.  The Gospel selections will all be taken, as today, from the sixth chapter of the Gospel of St. John - sometimes referred to as the Eucharistic discourse.    Perhaps the most profound meaning of the Eucharist in our lives as Catholics is the fact that our sharing in this bread broken and cup shared empowers us to become that which we receive - the compassionate presence of Jesus in our world today.

Two women in the last century have understood well the power of the Eucharist calling them to be the compassion of Christ for others.  In our own Country, Dorothy Day, who founded the Catholic Worker Movement to bring food and simple human respect to the homeless in skid rows throughout our land - began each day feasting on the food of life at daily mass.  In our own times, St. Theresa of Calcutta, foundress of the Missionaries of Charity whose special love and concern was for the poorest of the poor is known throughout the world – began each day on her knees reverencing and receiving the eucharistic Christ whom she would latter serve in the poor and dying.

Both Dorothy Day and in our own times Mother Theresa saw the Eucharist, not as an escape from the world and its problems but rather as the empowering nourishment giving them the inner strength to "grow in the likeness of the risen Christ".

May our sharing in this food of eternal life this day, satisfy the deepest hangers of our hearts with the unconditional love of Christ. And may it strengthen us for the work of the Gospel as we go forth this day to be what we have celebrated in these holy mysteries.

Sunday Reflection - His heart was moved with pity

Some years ago, Peter Steinfels, the then religion editor for the New York Times, reported a story about a family in the Archdiocese of Santa Fe who was suing the Archdiocese over comments made by a priest at the funeral of their beloved relative.  Evidently, at the funeral service, the priest, who describes himself as a “tell it like it is” type of person, decided to “tell it like it is” about the gentleman he was burying.  Somewhat lax in his Catholic practice, the overzealous priest in his homily pointed out in apparently stark terms, the gentleman’s shortcomings as a Catholic and, as the family maintains, though the priest denies, indicated in rather graphic terms the fact that he doubted whether the deceased had a chance to make it into heaven!   So much for pastoral prudence and tact!

My sisters and brothers, God’s holy word that is set before us this Sunday, speaks to us of the challenging role that a shepherd in the midst of God’s people takes upon himself as that shepherd is called to lead God’s people with a sense of profound responsibility and in the name of the Lord.   All of us are keenly aware of what can happen when a shepherd in the community fails to lead with integrity and personal holiness.  These past fifteen years have been a moment of profound crisis for us as members of the Catholic Church here in the United States.  The crimes of a small number of our shepherds who have lost sight of their calling and have tragically victimized the most vulnerable members of our Catholic community, our children, remains a perpetual wake up call for all who are entrusted with roles of leadership in our Church.  That wake up call, however, goes particularly to the heart of the responsibility of priests and bishops in our Church – to us who are entrusted with that responsibility, as Jeremiah reminds us, never to scatter the sheep but rather to insure that no one need ever fear and tremble or be lost or missing.  This historic crisis has understandably impacted the credibility of those who in the past where often automatically invested with the trust and confidence of God’s people.  As I often tell first time pastors as they take up their new ministries, that trust and confidence must now be earned– it is not given solely by virtue of office.

Indeed, the role of the shepherd in the Church today, challenged by the negligence and sins of a few, remains as it always has been in the Church – to seek out the lost and to open doors of hope for the hopeless.  In today’s Gospel of Mark, we are reminded that on seeing the vast crowd before him, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them, “for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things”.   

In the course of the 44 years of my priesthood, there are those graced moments that bring home both the privilege and blessing of being shepherd to God’s people.  Some years ago, I presided at the wedding celebration of a recent graduate from the Air Force Academy and his lovely bride.  During the course of Matt’s faith journey, as his pastor I was privileged to give him his first communion, celebrate his first reconciliation, stand by his side at his confirmation and now preside at the moment when he would give his heart in the sacrament of Holy Matrimony to his beloved.   As I stood before this wonderful couple, I was keenly aware of the daily privilege and responsibility the Lord has entrusted to me and every priest, to lead, guide, bless, comfort, bring hope and consolation to a world that in many respects can appear like a dark valley that must be traversed alone and in fear.

My friends, as our theology so beautifully articulates, the sacramentality of Holy Orders is never an end in itself for the priest.  We are never to be the focus of the wonders of God’s gracious presence in our world.  A sacrament always involves an outward sign that becomes the doorway to God’s holy presence.  As fragile earthen vessels, we are called to let’s God’s goodness, his graciousness shine through us so that the Lord alone be the one who is praised and thanked – we are merely his servants.  

As we gather again on this Lord’s Day and to feast at the Eucharistic Table, to enter into this sacred action that shapes our lives by the one whose holy presence we are privileged to receive, as both sheep and shepherds, let us give thanks for the abiding presence of the Lord whose heart was moved to pity – but who never leaves us abandoned or alone.  The shepherd is still with us….standing by our side as we walk in the dark valley – reminding us that we need never fear – for the rod and staff of his abiding presence will give us the courage we need to begin shaping a new chapter in a Church that is ever ancient and ever new.

50th Anniversary of the Encyclical, Humanae Vitae

In the summer of 1968, I had just completed my sophomore year at St. John’s Seminary College in Camarillo, and was looking forward to my junior year, that much closer to the priesthood.  St. John’s, in those years, was anything but a bastion of forward thinking in the post-Vatican II Church.  Cardinal McIntyre reigned with an iron fist and was slow to implement the Decrees of the recently completed Council.  St. John’s which Time magazine referred to as ‘the jewel in McIntyre’s miter’ kept a close watch on any ‘liberal’ tendencies among its seminarians.  In fact, I had to sneak in copies of the National Catholic Reporter, since it was considered ‘contraband!’

Knowing that an eventual decision was forthcoming on the hotly debated question of ‘Birth control,’ the NCR won the journalistic scoop of the century by publishing in its entirety, the confidential ‘majority’ report of the Pontifical Birth Control Commission, originally established by Pope John XXIII and later expanded by Pope Paul VI, to study the controverted question.  The conclusion was a clear majority of the commission members ( 64 of the 69 members) supporting a change in the received teaching.

It was for that reason that the issuance of the Encyclical letter, Humanae Vitae by Paul VI in the summer of 1968, created an ecclesial earthquake whose continuing effects are felt to this day.  As many of you know, the Encyclical letter, while expressing an exquisitely beautiful reflection on the intimate connection between love and procreation in the unitive expression of the commitment in marriage, unambiguously upheld the teaching that the use of artificial contraceptives was intrinsece inhonestum (article 14). I quote specifically from the Latin text, not to show off the fact that I’m of an age when Latin was still taught to seminarians, but to underscore the fact that nowhere in the Encyclical was the specific moral conclusion drawn that each and every act of contraceptive intercourse was a ‘mortal sin.’  The Encyclical utilized carefully nuanced philosophical and theological language to make the fine moral distinction of the intrinsic ‘dishonesty’ of the contraceptive act, since it frustrated the possibility of an essential natural element of the sexual act to be realized, the potential for new life.  This Latin phrase is more commonly mistranslated in English as ‘intrinsically evil,’ while the English translation of the Encyclical on the Vatican website translates it simply as, “intrinsically wrong,” a translation much closer to the Latin original.

There was an immediate reaction throughout the world by the various tribal camps anticipating a change in the teaching and those who championed the triumph of orthodoxy.  In his wisdom, or perhaps, naivete, Paul VI, invited Episcopal Conferences of Bishops throughout the world to offer their ‘responses’ to the Encyclical letter and his teaching.  What initially was thought to be a way of supporting the original thrust of the papal teaching, ended in mudding the waters. Thanks to the magisterial work of Dr. Joseph Selling of the University of Louvain, and later in my life, my professor during my post-graduate years at the University, three distinctive perspectives surfaced from these Episcopal responses: (1) Those that concurred and affirmed the teaching, (2) Those that clearly mitigated the moral conclusions of the teaching, (3) Those that went beyond the letter of the teaching in rigidity.

At the Vatican press conference that introduced the Encyclical to the world, the Vatican spokesperson interestingly made clear that we were dealing with ‘ordinary magisterial teaching’ and not an ‘infallible’ pronouncement.  A distinction that would later be strongly contested by a vocal yet minority contingent of moral theologians.

The reaction was almost immediate and ushered into the Catholic vocabulary of the time, the rarely heard phrase, ‘dissent’ from ordinary magisterial teaching. The most famous of the dissenters was Fr. Charles Curran who at the time was professor of moral theology at the Catholic University of America.  He was part of a group of 87 theologians who authored a dissenting response to the Encyclical letter.  He was subsequently sanctioned by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and officially stripped of his mandate to teach as a Catholic theologian.

The fall-out, though diminished greatly in these latter years, has continued to this day.  The famous (infamous) priest sociologist, the late Fr. Andrew Greeley of Chicago, unabashedly stated that Humanae Vitaebegan the dismantling of the Church’s credibility in the areas of sexual morality spelling the dramatic exodus in Catholics from the Church, leading to one of the largest ‘denominational’ demographics in the United States, the ‘I used to be Catholic!’  

The teaching has been consistently reiterated by subsequent Popes, most eloquently by Pope St. John Paul II in his many writings, allocutions and official pronouncements. Functionally, though, as any confessor would admit, the teaching, in many respects, has not been ‘received’ by the vast majority of Catholic couples and their use of artificial means to regulate conception is statistically no different than non-Catholics.  While this has become for some, the litmus test for orthodoxy, most wise and pastorally minded confessors are careful not to let this issue become a pretext for one ‘to leave the church’ as they compassionately accompany couples in discerning how best they might exercise responsible parenthood in the light of church teaching and their conscience.

As always, Bishop Robert Barron, offers his own wise and insightful reflections on this 50th anniversary of the issuance of the Encyclical.  He specifically points to the ‘prophetic’ nature of this teaching as reflected in article #17 of the document.  I heartily recommend a listen to this short video.

Sunday Reflection - Prophetic witness in the marketplace

Should the Church get involved in politics?  Many people say, “No way.”  “Religion and politics don’t mix.”  Others disagree.  A religion, they say, that is unwilling to leave the four walls of the church and go out into the public square is irrelevant to real life.  Whenever fundamental moral issues are at stake, these people maintain, the Church must get involved.  Otherwise the Church risks being untrue to its Lord and his message.

          But which political issues actually do involve moral issues important enough to justify the Church’s involvement?  Is capital punishment such an issue?  What about the decision of our government to arrest, detain and separate immigrant families from their children who attempt to cross our borders illegally?   Pope Francis is opposed to both.  So are the American bishops.  What about issues that touch upon the nitty gritty and often contentious area of tax reform? While the common good of any nation is often dependent on its ability to provide for its citizens through income derived from taxation, the intricacies of various plans allow for legitimate differences among people of good will.  Hence, I would be extremely suspect of anyone, let alone a Bishop in the Church, who might state, “This is THE Catholic approach to tax reform!”  While it is the Church’s role to articulate general moral principles that speak of a nation’s responsibility to insure the common good, it is left to knowledgeable elected officials,  economists and experts in taxation, to work out the specifics of a fair and equitable taxation policy for a nation.

          Our first reading today introduces a religious figure who was severely condemned for involvement in politics.  Like his countryman, Jesus, centuries later, Amos was a layman with no professional training for religious office.  “I was no prophet nor have I belonged to the company of prophets,” Amos told the priest in charge of the sanctuary at Bethel.  God called Amos while he was still a shepherd and farmer, and commanded him: “Go, prophesy to my people Israel.”

          God gave Amos no crystal ball to predict the future.  That is not the prophet’s task.  Instead Amos, like all true prophets, was summoned to speak “a word of the Lord” to the people of his day: to warn, to admonish, to rebuke, and to encourage.  As a simple countryman, living close to nature, Amos was scandalized by his glimpses of city life during his visits to market.  He records what he saw there: wealthy, callous plutocrats, overfed and over-housed, spending their time thinking up new ways to amuse and enrich themselves.  Meanwhile poor peasants like Amos, burdened with debt, could be sold into slavery for the price of a pair of sandals.           

         Amos saw this glaring social injustice compounded at the religious sanctuaries.  There he found prosperous worshipers rejoicing in their good fortune, which they interpreted as proof of God’s favor.  To this rotten and decaying society, the official prophets and priests had nothing to say but what a later prophet, Isaiah, would call “smooth words and seductive visions” (Is. 30:10) — rather like certain religious speakers at prayer breakfasts of political and business leaders today.         

         Without mincing his words, Amos pronounced his society ripe for God’s judgment.  Here is a sample of his message: “Hear this, you who trample upon the needy ... ‘When will the new moon be over,’ you ask, ‘that we may sell our grain? ...We will fix our scales for cheating!  We will buy the poor man for a pair of sandals; even the refuse of the wheat we will sell!’  The Lord has sworn ... Never will I forget a thing they have done! ... I will turn your feasts into mourning and all your songs into lamentation.”  (Amos 8:4-10)  Those are strong words.  No wonder that the priest, Amaziah, roundly condemned Amos for this unwelcome message, and for daring to speak at all in a place of religious pilgrimage without permission.  With the contempt of the religious functionary for the upstart outsider Amaziah tells Amos: “Off with you, visionary ... Never again prophesy in Bethel; for it is the king’s sanctuary and a royal temple.”          

         In the gospel we heard Jesus telling his disciples they would face similar rejection, and how to behave when they did: “Whatever place does not welcome you or listen to you, leave there and shake the dust off your feet in testimony against them.”  Rejection was sure to come because of the message Jesus gave them.  “They went off,” the gospel says, “and preached repentance.”  Repentance is never a popular message.  In the Bible, the word means more than regret for past actions which we see, by hindsight, were wrong.  Repentance means a fundamental change of direction.  It means turning around from self to God.  Repentance means putting God at the center of life rather than somewhere out on the fringe.         

         If Amos were to come back today, what are some of the things he would denounce in our society and tell us we needed to repent of?  Here is a short list.         

         One which was often mentioned by our late Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, is consumerism.  This is the false idea that we can buy happiness by amassing more and more possessions.  A whole industry exists to promote this idea: advertising.  Advertising which tells us where we can get things we need, at prices we can afford, is useful.  But advertising designed to kindle desire for things we never knew we needed until we saw the ad is questionable at least.                   

         Something else which cries out for repentance is hedonism: the mindless philosophy that says, “If it feels good, do it.”  Hedonism wrecks lives, relationships, and marriages, every day.  

          We need to repent also of the hard-hearted selfishness which ignores the needs of the poor and oppressed in our midst; or which thinks that our obligation to them can be discharged by gifts to charity from our surplus goods, with no examination of unjust conditions in society that cause poverty and oppression.          

         We need to repent too of an over-spiritualized religion which is concerned only with saying prayers and getting into heaven; and which ignores the challenge which Jesus gave us in his model prayer: “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”  Those words challenge us to build colonies of heaven here on earth — by living not just for ourselves, but for God and for others.           

         That is a short though incomplete list of the demons mentioned at the end of our gospel reading against which Jesus sends us today.  Demons so powerful, and so pervasive, can be driven out by one thing alone: repentance.  And the repentance to which Jesus summons us is not somewhere else, tomorrow.  It is here, and it is now.  And repentance begins not with someone else.  If it is to begin at all, repentance must begin with ourselves.

Sunday Reflection - My power is made perfect in weakness!

My friends, over the years, a lot of ink has been spilled by Scripture scholars over a somewhat enigmatic phrase that appears in our second reading taken from St. Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians.  I am referring to the phrase, “….a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated…”  What in the world was this ‘thorn in the flesh’ that Paul, the great evangelist, had to contend with in responding to the Lord’s call to preach the Good News of Christ to the world?  Countless explanations concerning the nature of Paul’s ‘thorn in the flesh’ have been offered. They range from incessant temptation, dogged opponents, chronic maladies (such as eye problems, malaria, migraine headaches, and epilepsy), to a speech disability. No one can say for sure what Paul’s thorn in the flesh was, but it probably was a physical affliction.

What we do know is that whatever this ‘thorn in the flesh’ was, it had a profound impact on St. Paul’s attitude as servant and messenger of the Lord’s good news.  This physical or moral defect was a continuing and humbling reminder to St. Paul that the great vocation to which he was called, whatever transforming impact that he would have in other peoples lives, whatever conversion that took place in the heart of those who heard his words, came, not from him but from the Lord working through him.

No matter how many times Paul begged the Lord to be freed from whatever this impediment might have been in his life, the Lord permitted it to continue as a reminder to Paul that the Lord’s “power is made perfect in weakness.” 

The “Lord’s power is made perfect in weakness.”  My sisters and brothers that is an astounding comment when we stop to think about it.  In a culture and society that praises the self-made person, that values over-achievement, that exults in being a mover and shaker in society, we rarely think that weakness in life can possess any power whatsoever.  So often, our immediate instinct is to pity or despise the weak and the powerless.  We kiddingly make fun of “wimps”.  The strong so frequently bully the weak.  Even the motto of the Olympics is the antithesis of everything that we consider weak and powerless:  "Citius, Altius, Fortius" (faster, higher, stronger).

Yet, from the Lord’s perspective, there is something wonderfully gifted, in acknowledging and embracing one’s weakness in life.  There is probably no more powerful contemporary examples of this than the final years in the life of Pope Saint John Paul II. As a young priest I was fortunate to be present in St. Peter’s Square when he began his ministry in 1978 at the age of 58.  He radiated energy, strength, enthusiasm and power.  His pontificate spanned some 27 years. He was one of the most-travelled world leaders in history, visiting 129 countries during his pontificate. As part of his special emphasis on the universal call to holiness,  he canonized over 483 saints,  more than the combined tally of his predecessors during the preceding five centuries.  There was no question about it, he was a power house of energy, power and strength.  

And then we began to see the signs of decline.  Parkinson’s disease began to take its inexorable toll on this giant of a churchman.  In 2000, during the great jubilee year, I was privileged to meet him and saw the devastating impact that this disease was having on him.  Experiencing difficulty in both speaking and walking, John Paul’s physical decline month by month, year by year was there for all to see.

Despite the devastating weakness that was overtaking his life, it has been said that these final years of his pontificate were in many respects his most eloquent as he literally carried in himself the dying and rising of Christ for all the world to see.  He literally preached and imaged Christ crucified through his own body – often without speaking a word, drained of all strength and vigor and in time a silent witness to the Christ to whom he had given his whole life in service.

My friends, when we hold that image in our minds – that final appearance of him at his window to give a final blessing, unable to speak a word – then, I think, we gain an insight into the deepest meaning of Paul’s words to us this day, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is make perfect in weakness.”

Sisters and brothers, as we come together in worship this day, to be strengthened by Word and Sacrament, let us be grateful, for the weakness in all of us.  May the Lord transform whatever brokenness we struggle with in life, physical or moral, whatever hardships that come our way, whatever ‘thorn in the flesh’ that we have been given, so that we might always know and give thanks for God’s powerthat is made perfect in our own weakness. 

Sunday Reflection - Do not be afraid, just have faith!

“Do not be afraid, just have faith!”  Jesus speaks these words of reassurance in today’s Gospel to the synagogue official who rushes up to the Master because his little daughter who was gravely ill has now died.  It is difficult to imagine the thoughts and feelings that might go through the mind and heart of a parent on hearing the death of their son or daughter. Whether that moment may have come as a result of some devastating childhood illness or a tragic and unexpected accident, there is probably no more painful and traumatic human experience than to face the death of one’s child.  For the skeptical and cynical of this world, it might be easy to conclude that these words of Jesus were perhaps a “throw away line” from the famous rabbi.  But for those who were willing to break out of the hard-hearted skepticism that can so easily imprison one into a world of meaninglessness, these words opened a new door of hope for this synagogue official and his family.  That hope would not, of course, leave him disappointed. With the divine touch of the Master, Jesus would raise the little girl from her sleep of death and return her to her grateful parents.

“Do not be afraid, just have faith.”  My friends, the Lord continues to speak those words to us in the midst of whatever challenges, disappointments, frustrations and tragedies we may have to face in life’s journey.  Few of us, perhaps, will taste the bitterness of the death of a child, but all of us at some moment will be confronted with the inevitable tragedies that life will bring.  While we would all like to think that our life will be freed from the tensions and tragedies that so many endure, in our heart of hearts, we know that it is only a matter of time when we experience the inevitable loss of a loved one, the bitterness of personal failure, the darkness that wrestling with a deep seated sin or habit will plunge us into. In the midst of these challenges, it is the Lord who again speaks his words of promise, “Do not be afraid, just have faith.”

That faith, however, is not a mindless pie in the sky wishful thinking but rather a conviction that is grounded in the fact that we never live that faith alone.  As Christians, faith is always a shared reality, a profound realization that we are indeed our brother’s and our sister’s keeper.  Having faith means that we need not face the uncertain future alone. Our sisters and brothers who are indeed the Body of Christ companion us, strengthen us and give us hope as together we face whatever the future may bring.

One of the most dramatic examples of this reality has been the impact that one of the most transforming movements of the 20thcentury has had in providing hope and new beginnings for countless men and women caught in the personal crisis of addiction.  It has been said that Alcoholics Anonymous and the many 12-step groups that it has engendered, may go down as one of the most personally transforming movements of the last century.  A pivotal key to its genius is, quite simply, sisters and brothers coming together to support in radical honesty an individual’s desire to maintain sobriety. Through the compassion, mercy as well as tough-love of the supportive group, radical honesty is maintained and sobriety can be lived, one day at a time.  The group, indeed, becomes companions of wounded healers that open the doors for new beginnings and hope where such life-giving realities seemed impossible.

As a new week opens before us with its inevitable blessings as well as challenges, let us strive to embrace the trust and faith in the one who can, indeed, banish all fear from our lives with his unfailing love.

Sunday Reflection - The Birth of John the Baptist

Few, if any of us, were not moved with outrage at the stories of young children separated from their parents as a result of the Trump administration draconian policy of ‘zero-tolerance’ for immigrant families entering our country illegally.  While, of course, every country has the right and the responsibility to safe-guard their borders and to develop a just and humane immigration policy with laws that appropriately balance border protection with rights that reflect the inherent dignity of all persons, the wholesale separation of children, as young as one year old or younger, from their parents has been characterized as nothing less than state sanctioned child abuse.  Fortunately, the President, sensing an unwinnable backlash, signed a Presidential executive order, ending the practice.  

With the birth of every child comes the promise of a life that hopefully will make a difference in our world. It is no wonder then, that in the face of the inevitable traumatic experience that children separated from their parents will suffer, there was such an understandable outcry throughout the world.  Like a small and vulnerable flower, anyone with an ounce of common sense would know that small children need to be protected from needless trauma and abuse, so that their lives can indeed grow into what God intends them to be.

Today, as we gather in worship, we celebrate a feast that does not often fall on a Sunday but when it does, it takes precedence over our Sundays in Ordinary Time. We mark and celebrate the birth of a child whose life made a profound difference in our world as he lived out his call from the Lord. We celebrate today the Birth of John the Baptist whom the Church refers to as the last of the great prophets, since he heralded the coming of Jesus, the anointed one.

The word “prophet” from its Hebrew roots, literally means “one who speaks for another.” The role of the prophet in Israel was to be a herald or watchman who would be ever quick to sensitize his listeners to the in-breaking of God’s presence into the world. Some have referred to the prophets as the “conscience of Israel” for they were willing to risk telling the people what they needed to hear about God’s great plan for them rather than what they wanted to hear. 

Prophets were generally unpopular folks since they were constantly challenging the spiritual complacency and the comfortable religiosity of their people. They would have nothing to do with what the German Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer referred to as “cheap grace” - living the life of faith without paying price of true discipleship.

At his birth, John’s relatives and friends knew that there was something different about this child for they pondered in their heart, “What, then, will this child be? - for surely the hand of the Lord was with him.” Indeed, in God’s inscrutable plan, he would use John to be the voice “crying in the wilderness” to make a straight a path for one who would usher in a new creation and a new world transformed by his love.

Like John the Baptist, each of us through our sacramental initiation into the community of believers - through our baptism and confirmation - are called to be prophetic witnesses to the presence and values of the Lord of Life in our world. Sometimes we can sense the anguish of John the Baptist - crying in the wilderness, especially when we encounter the great tragedies in our society that disfigure the tremendous dignity that God calls us to as members of the human family. In a society of such abundance, there are still too many who go to bed hungry and homeless. In a society that exalts, “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” we continue to legally tolerate the National disgrace of abortion on demand. 

My brothers and sisters, our society and world continue to hunger and thirst for the courageous witness of latter day prophets like John the Baptist who are strong in spirit, as we raise our voices in witness to the Good News of Christ. May we do so with a passion that will cause others to say of us, “Surely the hand of the Lord is upon them.”

Sunday Reflection - We walk by faith and not by sight

A priest was invited to dinner by a young family in his parish.  He arrived appropriately dressed in his clerical attire and soon became the fascination of their little five-year-old boy.  At one point early on in the visit, the priest noticed the young boy staring at his Roman collar.  Finally, the priest asked the boy pointing to his collar, “Johnny, do you know what this is?” The boy was silent for a moment and then the priest said, “It’s a collar.”  Then he asked, “Do you know what it means?”  The boy thought for a moment and then said, “No fleas and ticks for three months!”

My friends, perceptions do not always equal reality!  In our beautiful second reading today from Paul’s Second letter to the Corinthians, he reminds us of the profound truth that for Christians, ‘we walk by faith and not by sight.’  In other words, the experiences of our life’s journey have been transformed by the presence of the Risen Christ who calls us to see every aspect of our human experience providentially taken up into God’s plan for us.  Our lives are not accidental but purposeful – taken up by God’s purpose for us.  What may appear to be ultimate tragedies in our life can indeed be incredible triumphs of God’s grace at work in our lives.  We walk this life by faith and not by sight.

This truth of our faith was dramatically brought home to me recently when I read former Vice-President Joe Biden’s recent book, Promise Me, Dad. It is a moving tribute to his son, Beau, who tragically died of brain cancer at the age of 46, leaving a devoted wife and two young children. As many of you are aware, early in his political career, Vice-President Biden tragically lost his wife and daughter in a terrible automobile accident.  His two sons, Beau and Hunter survived the crash but were the unshakable focus of their father’s attention while they were convalescing in the hospital and later at home. Each day, the young senator would leave the Nation’s capital and travel by train to their home in Delaware to ensure that the boys would have their father by their side when they woke up and went to bed each day.  

It is not uncommon for those who might experience such tragic loss in life to lapse into unremitting grief or be forever embittered by the cruelty of life.  However, despite such tragedies, it was precisely the perspective of faith and the unfailing hope in the triumph of Christ over the inevitable tragedies of life that enabled the Vice-President and his family to see this moment, not as an end but rather the new beginning of eternity for their beloved son, husband, brother and father.

My friends, we “walk by faith and not by sight.”  From God’s perspective, each moment of our life’s journey possesses a meaning that orients us toward the final end that God has destined for each one of us. That eternal end was beautifully and succinctly explained in the old Baltimore Catechism in response to the question, “Why did God make you?”  “God made me to know, love and serve Him in this world, and to be happy with him forever in heaven.”

As we gather this Father's Day to drink deeply of God our Father's unfailing mercy at his Table of grace and blessing, let us be grateful for the gift of faith, a faith that gives our “seeing” its deepest meaning.

Sunday Reflection - The mystery of evil and our response as Christians

What does evil look like? I suppose most of us could, with relative ease, respond to that question without much hesitation. The 1995 bombing of the Federal Building in Oklahoma City and the senseless deaths of hundreds of innocent people - that is evil. The torture and murder of a gifted young teacher in New York City apparently for his ATM card - that is evil. The stray bullets of gang rivalry that strike and paralyze a small child in its mother’s arms - that’s evil. And, of course, the quintessential example of senseless death and destruction at the beginning of this century, the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in New York that took the lives of thousands of individuals, that’s evil. In each of these and countless other situations which sadly confront us on almost a daily basis, we find ourselves looking into the face of evil and wrestling with the all too human response of “Why?”

For those in our society who might wish to dismiss the reality of the demonic as merely the foolish holdover of a pre-scientific age steeped in superstition, they need only open their eyes to seethat it tragically surrounds us. It has seduced our personal and national consciences. It lurks in our cities, in our families and like a cancer is eating away at the heart of our society.

After sketching out this rather bleak picture of evil and society today, some of you might be saying to yourselves - “Gee, Monsignor must of had a lousy week! I didn’t check out his Blog post for bad news - I have enough of that all week. I’m here for good news!”

And your right, we all come to God’s Word and Sacrament, week after week to be renewed and transformed by Good News. Yet, that good news that comes to us in Jesus will never truly take root in our lives - will never truly be the transforming and life-changing gift for us - if we fail to acknowledge and humbly claim the fact that we are all sinners and that each of us is in need of that change of heart called conversion.

In today’s Gospel from the 3rdchapter of St. Mark, we encounter a phrase that has fueled theological questioning and speculation down through the centuries. In it, Jesus sets before us both good news and bad news. The good news is that “every sin will be forgiven as well as all the blasphemies which we might utter in life”; however, the bad news is that one who “blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven, he carries the guilt of his sin without end.” I’ve often asked myself the question, what such blasphemy against the Holy Spirit would look like. What kind of action could you or I do to merit this sole exclusion of God’s forgiving love?

Perhaps such an unforgivable sin is believing that evil in the end will have the final say in life. Perhaps, the ultimate blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is to be so seduced by the power of the demonic in our world that we come to believe that God’s transforming grace could never bring about a change of heart in conversion. 

An example here, might be helpful. Let’s take Timothy McVey, the perpetrator of the terrible bombing of the Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City on April 19, 1995.  At his eventual trial, the jury’s verdict was unanimous as they convicted him beyond a reasonable doubt of the most horrific act of national terrorism. There’s a part of me that empathizes completely with those who say if ever there’s a candidate for capital punishment, he’s the one. Let the law of the Old Testament with its “eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” be fulfilled. However, Pope St. John Paul II, in his masterful Encyclical Letter on “The Gospel of Life,” challenges this mentality which in the end has perpetuated the cycle of violence in the name of justice. Quite frankly, for many, it’s far easier to hear and accept John Paul’s passionate defense of pre-born life than it is his sobering challenge and critique of capital punishment. 

As Christians we are called to carry a hope in our heart that every person possesses the possibility of repentance. We believe that no one is excluded from the transforming power of grace that comes to us in Christ Jesus our Lord - no matter how scared or depraved their life may be. To do otherwise is ultimately to believe that evil is stronger than good, that darkness will overcome the light, that the power of the Holy Spirit - the giver of life and love is limited and conditioned. But to do so is ultimately to blaspheme against the Spirit which in the end is unforgivable.

As we gather this Lord’s Day, let us rejoice in the Good News that continually reminds us that we carry within ourselves an “eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison”. In the face of so much “bad news” let our own lives be seeds of hope and promise in a world that is desperately in need of believing and knowing that God is in our midst. Let us pray that the power of His Spirit continues to work through us, who remain the mother, brothers and sisters of the Lord in our world today.

Sunday Reflection - The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

There is probably no more moving or touching celebration within the rich liturgical tradition of our Church than the ordination of a priest. This coming Saturday our local Church of Orange will gather around our Bishop to ordain two men, chosen from God’s Holy People, for service in our Diocese. My own ordination, 44 years ago, at times seems as if it was only yesterday. Gathered with family and friends, the long-awaited moment - for some, prepared for by eight and is some cases even twelve years of study and preparation, finally arrived. While the central symbolic gesture of the ordination ceremony is the ancient laying on of hands on the head of the candidate by the Bishop together with the prayer of consecration that follows, there is another moment in the ordination liturgy that powerfully brings home what is at the heart of priestly ministry. Taking a chalice filled with wine and a paten with altar breads on it - the newly ordained priest kneels before the bishop as cup and bread and handed to him to be touched. The Bishop says to him:

Accept from the holy people of God the gifts to be offered to him. Know what you are doing, and imitate the mystery you celebrate: model your life on the mystery of the Lord’s cross.

With these words and the symbols presented, the newly ordained is reminded of the great responsibility and privilege entrusted to him as servant leader in the midst of God’s people. He is to take the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord. He is charged with leading the community of faith in that act of Thanksgiving that is so central to shaping our lives and our identities as women and men of the new creation. He is called to break the bread and share the cup in the Lord’s name by keeping the memory of the Lord’s death and resurrection alive in our minds and hearts in the gift of the Eucharist.

Flowing out from the ministry of Jesus and rooted in his paschal journey from life, through death and back to life again, the Eucharist not only is central to the life and ministry of every priest, but in the words of the Second Vatican Council it is for all the baptized: a sacrament of faithful relationships, a sign of unity, a bond of divine love, a special Easter meal. In it, “Christ is received, the inner self is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given to us.

On this Feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of the Lord, all of us are invited to reflect on the indispensable place that the Eucharist should have in our lives as Catholic Christians. 

Our Church teaches that first and foremost the Eucharist is a sacrificial meal that symbols forth the living presence of the risen Lord in the Word of God proclaimed and the bread and cup shared. While we may sometimes think of the word “Eucharist” as a noun, the objective reality of the Lord’s real presence under the forms of bread and wine- it is far more a verb - the dynamic action of God’s holy people gathering in the Lord’s name to be faithful to the mandate given us by the Lord himself on the eve of his passion and death - “to do this meal in memory” of him. As the Council so powerfully reminded us, we are never passive spectators when we gather for the Eucharistic celebration, but rather, active participants through common gestures, spoken and sung responses, the engagement of our minds and hearts in this moment of praise and thanks. While the privilege to preside over the Eucharist is given to ordained ministers, all the baptized are called to be active celebrants in this moment of grace and blessing.

Flowing from the Eucharistic action, we Catholics believe that through the power of the Holy Spirit, the simple earthly elements of bread and wine become for us the risen presence of the Lord in our midst - first as food for our journey in life so that we might grow into the likeness of the one whom we receive, deepening our solidarity and friendship with him; and second, as an abiding presence to be adored in prayer and praise. Orthodox Catholic belief firmly holds that following the Eucharistic celebration the real presence of the Risen Lord continues to be present in the elements. That is why we reserve the Eucharistic bread in the tabernacle so that it might be taken to the sick and homebound and revered in prayer.

While our Church possesses a rich and venerable theology on the Holy Eucharist, for me as a priest there is probably no more powerful witness to the centrality of this wondrous gift and promise from the Lord than to experience it received for the first time by a young first communicate. As he or she ever so carefully and reverently says “Amen” and cradles the loving Lord in his or her small hands, and then receives the living Christ with the simple and trusting faith and fervor of a child - no words of theology are needed. The gift of love is received in love and the life of the Church continues to unfold for another generation. 

My brothers and sisters, may our reflection this day, deepen our love for the Lord in the Eucharist. May we be renewed in spirit by this wondrous sacrament. May it strengthen our hope for the day when no signs or symbols will be needed but we will come to see the Lord face to face in the Kingdom of his glory.