Reflection for the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord

…But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you,
and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem,
throughout Judea and Samaria,
and to the ends of the earth.” 

On January 20th, 1961, after a long fought political campaign, the first Catholic President, John F. Kennedy was inaugurated on the steps of the Capitol Building.  As a 13-year-old impressionable very young teenager, I was enthralled by the stirring words that Kennedy spoke that day in his now historic inaugural address.  Master orator that he was, the address came to a dramatic crescendo with these memorable words: 

With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own. 

Yes, my friends, God’s work must truly be our own!  That is precisely the meaning of the great Solemnity that the Christian Church celebrates this day.  While many of us remember the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord associated with Thursday, some years ago the Bishops of many parts of the United States transferred the celebration of this central feast in the Christian calendar to the Seventh Sunday of Easter.  Why?  So that many more of the faithful could gather to give thanks for the wonder of this day. 

With the earthly mission and ministry of the Lord having been completed, he now returns to the Father. However, that mission and ministry of Jesus is now entrusted to all the Baptized who have been made new and empowered by the Spirit whose fullness we commemorate next Sunday in the Solemnity of Pentecost. 

Down through the centuries, the measure of our authentic embrace of the Gospel has always been our willingness to truly make God’s work our own.  As we look back over the expanse of the centuries since that mandate was first handed to us, we can, indeed, take pride in the saints and Holy Ones who have truly made God’s work their own.  Yet, our history, sadly narrates the story of Christians who have failed to take up and live this noble task. 

My mind today goes to the tragedy that is unfolding in the land made ‘Holy’ by the Lord himself, once again torn by hatred and war.  How paradoxical that Jew and Arab who pride themselves with their ancient greeting of “Shalom” and “Salam” – peace - should so often fail to make God’s work, their own.  Doing God’s work, of course, is living the demanding task of surrendering the narcissism and ego of a ‘me first’ mentality and making God’s mind and heart our own.

As has often been said, God has no other voice, hands and heart today but our own.  May the Ascension of the Lord renew our commitment to be that voice in our world today so that at the end of our days we can rest peacefully, knowing that God’s work has truly been our own in the life we have lived.

Reflection for the Sixth Sunday of Easter

Beloved, let us love one another,
because love is of God;
everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God.
Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love. 

It is an absolute truism today that so much of our society, church and world has devolved into tribalism, sectarianism, nationalism and nativism.  While we have all had to contend with the challenges of the Covid-19 virus and its virulent variants, a far more sinister virus of the human heart threatening the solidarity of the human family is the ‘me first’ attitude that, sadly, characterizes a growing segment of our own country. 

That vibrant national spirit that enabled the United States to join hands with its fellow citizens and allies to confront and defeat the pure evil of Nazism with its demonic theories of racial purity leading to the genocidal Holocaust, has devolved into an anemic ‘America First’ mentality that narcissistically is seducing more and more of our fellow citizens. 

Sadly, many Evangelical Christians, who once were committed to taking the words of the Lord so literally, have been seduced by the spirit of the present age and have betrayed those very same words by supporting both in word and deed the partisanship that so characterizes political discourse today.  Rather than challenging folks with words that our fellow citizens need to hear, they mouth the tired bromides that folks want to hear. 

Into this toxic environment comes the words of the First Letter of St. John, whose message is more needed and relevant than ever:   

Beloved, let us love one another,
because love is of God;
everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God.
Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love. 

For nearly 2000 years, the ultimate litmus test for authentic living of the Christian faith has been those words that are a balm for the righteous and a searing judgment for the hypocrite.

Reflection for the Fifth Sunday of Easter

The church throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria was at peace.
It was being built up and walked in the fear of the Lord,
and with the consolation of the Holy Spirit it grew in numbers. 

During the great 50 days in which we celebrate the transforming power of the Easter mystery in the Church, the first lesson at the Sunday Eucharist is taken from the Acts of the Apostles.  This is the only time within the yearly lectionary cycle of readings that the first reading invariably from the Hebrew Scriptures is replaced by a New Testament lesson. 

Scholars tell us that the Evangelist Luke is also the inspired writer of the Acts of the Apostles. Even a cursory reading of Acts reveals that, unlike his Gospel, it narrates the challenging ‘history’ of the early Church following the Ascension of the Lord.  I place the word, ‘history,’ in parenthesis, since this is an idealized history seen through the eyes not of an exacting historical chronicler but rather one whose primary aim was to bring about conversion to the Christ and His Way by all who would read and listen to this saving message.

I must admit, I always am more than a bit amused when I hear the verse quoted above with its phrase: The church throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria was at peace… In the nearly 2000 year history of our Church, this must have been the singular time when the church was at peace!  My friends, as a human institution that holds a divine dimension, our history down through the centuries has, sadly, been all too fragile with infighting and contention.  As the French would say, the more things change, the more they remain the same. 

No wonder, then, that year after year during the Easter Season, we hear the simple yet incredibly challenging message from the 1st Letter of John:  Children, let us love not in word or speech but in deed and truth.   

Sisters and Brothers, if we truly believe that at the heart of the reality that we call ‘Church,’ is nothing less than relationships – the Lord with us and ours with him and one another – then love must stand as the ultimate litmus test of the quality and sincerity of those relationships. 

The invariable sign down through the centuries that we fail this test is the dissension, inner turmoil and infighting that can destroy the communion that the Lord wants for his beloved Church.  However, when we humbly rise above are incessant need to narcissistically be right and let compassion and mercy be the hallmark of our lives, dissension, inner turmoil and infighting can indeed give way to a holy communion. 

Such a reality, however, comes as an amazing grace from the one who is the giver of all good things, God’s spirit of love.  Let us be open to that gift, this day and every day of our lives.

Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Easter

I am the good shepherd,
and I know mine and mine know me,
just as the Father knows me and I know the Father;
and I will lay down my life for the sheep. 

In March of 2013, shortly after his surprise election as Bishop of Rome, the new Pope Francis celebrated the traditional Chrism Mass for the priests of his diocese in St. Peter’s Basilica.  This Mass which is celebrated in every Diocese of the world normally during Holy Week is an opportunity for the chief shepherd of the local church to speak with affection to his priestly brothers as they minister to God’s people of the local church. 

In his soon to be characteristic style, Francis ‘raised heads’ as he spoke these words: This I ask you: be shepherds, with the “smell of the sheep”, make it real, as shepherds among your flock, fishers of men.  

In other words, Francis was challenging all who take up the call to serve in ordained ministry to immerse themselves into the joys and sorrows, hopes and disappointments, loves and loses of the people they are privileged to serve. 

The Fourth Sunday of the Easter Season with its Gospel story of the Good Shepherd has traditionally been an opportunity to focus on the vocation of the ordained minister.  There is probably no more apt image for those in ministry than the image of the Good Shepherd who is attuned to the voice of his sheep.  It is an acquired and highly skilled art to ‘know,’ really ‘know’ the sound of those he leads.  It is an art cultivated over years.  The sheep are not just some amorphous mass of livestock but he knows them individually with all their unique quirks, strengths and liabilities. 

So too, the good minister of the Gospel, never views his role as merely a ‘gate-keeper’ but far more a ‘bridge-builder.’  He is far more concerned about leading others to life-giving water and the food of eternity than letting them languish in the desert without adequate eternal food or drink.  ‘Gate-keeper’ shepherds say far more about the shepherd and their myopic understanding of God’s immense mercy, love and forgiveness, than ‘bridge-builder’ shepherds who see the promise and fulfillment of that amazing grace with the dawn of each new day. 

My friends, let us remember each day our latter-day Shepherds that they may, indeed, be Good and truly worthy of the calling they have received.  Alleluia!

Reflection for the Third Sunday of Easter

Those who say, “I know him,” but do not keep his commandments
are liars, and the truth is not in them.
But whoever keeps his word,
the love of God is truly perfected in him. 

My father was pretty permissive with my sister and me when we were growing up.  He was, as they say today, more spiritual than religious.  He was, above all else, a man of his word.  He valued integrity and truth and would not countenance lying.  I remember vividly his telling me that he could tolerate all sorts of behavior, staying out late, even drinking one more drink than I should have, but he was absolutely adamant about our telling the truth to him.  If he ever caught me in a lie, beware! 

My father lived in the core of his being the beautiful truth that we hear this Easter Season in our second reading from the First Letter of John.  To say that we love God but fail to live the truth of his Gospel makes us consummate hypocrites.   

Our God who is full of mercy and forgiveness embraces the brokenness of humanity.  He knows our sins and failings before we know them ourselves.  Like the prodigal father, overflowing in mercy, he readily embraces the prodigal daughter or son, who acknowledges their foolishness in thinking they can find ultimate love and fulfillment outside of the truth of his word. 

It is for those, however, who self-righteously think that they are the arbiter of all truth and who hard heartedly disregard God’s commandments to ‘love first,’ ‘forgive first’ and exercise ‘mercy first,’ that the harshest judgements await.   

A wise spiritual director once said that the problem with the Good News is that it is just too good to be true.  But, it is true for those who are willing to let the power of its transforming grace make us new.   

That, my friends, is the truth.

Reflection for the Second Sunday of Easter

The community of believers was of one heart and mind… 

The traditional preacher for the Papal Good Friday liturgical celebration in St. Peter’s Basilica in the presence of the Holy Father, has, since 1980, been a kindly Franciscan Capuchin friar by the name of Raniero Cantalamessa.  This past year in recognition for his long years of service, Pope Francis elevated him to the College of Cardinals, granting him the rare exception of not having to be ordained a Bishop to assume this dignity.  He is one of the rare Cardinals who is not a Bishop!

In his powerful homily on Good Friday, the Cardinal simply arrayed in just his Capuchin habit and red skullcap of a Cardinal, inveighed against those who are ripping asunder the unity of the Body of Christ, the Church, from within.  While it may be understandable that those enemies of the Gospel from without, continue to assail the counter values of the Church in the face of secularism, it is the enemies within that continue to bring scandal and wreak havoc on the credibility of the Church as she attempts to carry the message of her Savior to a waiting world. 

Our first reading from the Acts of the Apostle, sets the scene of the Church that remains the ideal - The community of believers was of one heart and mind…The characteristic of the early Church that was a powerful draw for people who were hungering for meaning and purpose in their lives, was precisely the loving solidarity among the people of the Way – the earliest name for those who would later, in Antioch, be known as “Christians.” 

It was this loving solidarity that enabled these early followers of Jesus to face the rejection and persecution that so characterized the early centuries of the Church.  And, it was precisely this being of one heart and mind that witnessed the phenomenal growth of the Church in the earliest years of its existence. 

The grace of being of one heart and mind within the family of believers gifts the Church with the Peace that the Risen Jesus greets his frightened and doubting followers in the familiar Gospel of today.  The peace that emerges from reconciliation and forgiveness is the very gift that Jesus gives to his Body for all ages. 

As we continue to rejoice in the hope and promise that the Easter Mysteries bring, let us renew in our own hearts and minds that great privilege it is for us to be bearers of peace and forgiveness to our sisters and brothers in the Body of Believers. 

The community of believers was of one heart and mind…

Reflection for Easter Sunday 2021

When Simon Peter arrived after him,
he went into the tomb and saw the burial cloths there,
and the cloth that had covered his head,
not with the burial cloths but rolled up in a separate place.
Then the other disciple also went in,
the one who had arrived at the tomb first,
and he saw and believed.

Last year, Easter found ourselves in the extraordinary moment when virtually all the world found itself quarantined in their homes as a result of the pandemic that had gripped us with fear. This year, while still not out of the pandemic woods, so to speak, I find myself inspired and encouraged by a gift given to me some 46 years ago on the occasion of my priestly ordination.  The gift was a beautiful serigraph by the famous 20th century artist and religious sister, Sr. Corita Kent.  It is done in her quintessential typical style combining a quote with vivid colors.  The quote is from the French philosopher and Christian existentialist, Gabriel Marcel.  In bold calligraphy it proclaims: We can only speak of Hope! 

My friends, on this Easter day, 2021, that quote captures the essence and meaning of this Easter for people of faith down through the centuries.  Christ has broken the power of darkness, sin and hopelessness, conquering death in his Resurrection victory. 

Today we celebrate the pivotal feast of the Christian faith on which hinges the entirety of the good news of Christ.  As St. Paul reminds us, “If Christ had not risen from the dead, your faith is in vain.” 

Despite whatever may challenge the human spirit in whatever chapter of human history we may find ourselves in, the light from that empty tomb resonates with its incessant proclamation of hope for all who are willing to surrender in loving belief. 

And so, even in the midst of a world scarred by the fear of this moment, the risen Jesus stands before us and with us with his outstretched hands, scarred themselves with the nail prints of the cross, beckoning us to sing our Alleluias. 

On this feast of feasts, let us make the ancient hymn of this day our own in faith and unfailing hope in the risen one who is always in our midst: 

Yes, Christ my hope is arisen;
    to Galilee he goes before you.
Christ indeed from death is risen, our new life obtaining.
    Have mercy, victor King, ever reigning!
    Amen. Alleluia.

Reflection for Passion Sunday - Palm Sunday

“Hosanna to the Son of David;
blessed is the he who comes in the name of the Lord;
hosanna in the highest.” 

“Then what shall I do with Jesus called Christ?”
They all said,
“Let him be crucified!”
But he said,
“Why? What evil has he done?”
They only shouted the louder,
“Let him be crucified!” 

Sisters and Brothers, as we mark and celebrate the beginning of the holiest week in the Christian calendar, once again the pandemic that has been upon us for more than a year will compromise our celebration of these central liturgies in our year of grace.  While restrictions in gathering for worship are gradually be lifted, nevertheless, many of our sisters and brothers will continue to participate via live-stream celebrations. 

Yet, we must never forget that at the heart and center of all our liturgical experiences lies the precious gift of remembering.  On the eve of his passion and death, the Lord spoke those memorable words:  Do this in memory of me.  Hence, all liturgy is fundamentally the act of entering into the great remembrance of the Lord’s saving actions that transcend time and place. 

And so, today, we remember his triumphal entry into the holy city of Jerusalem, greeted by the exaltation of the people, hailing the Son of David with Hosannas.  How fickle human nature can be, for in less than a week, those Hosannas will turn to shouts of “Let him be crucified!”  Humanity’s unfaithfulness to the one who loved us into existence is sadly witnessed in repeated acts of darkness and sin down through the centuries.  Yet, in the face of our unfaithfulness, God’s faithfulness is everlasting.   

This week, we remember that faithfulness in bread broken and cup shared on Holy Thursday that commemorates the Lord’s greatest gift to us in the Eucharist. 

On Good Friday, we remember that faithfulness unto death as Jesus speaks forgiveness to his persecutors and promises paradise to the thief who dies at his side. 

On Holy Saturday, we remember that faithfulness in the silence of the tomb as we await in hopeful expectation his great promise. 

On Easter, we remember that promise that death gives way to eternal life in Resurrection.   

Though physically separated, we are nevertheless united in remembering God’s great acts of love this week. For that, we give God thanks.

Reflection for the Fifth Sunday of Lent

The days are coming, says the LORD, 
when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel 
and the house of Judah. 

Some time ago after celebrating one of the innumerable baptisms in my life as a priest, the couple was most concerned about making sure that they could keep the baptismal candle that was given as part of the Baptismal liturgy.  I said, “Of course,” and then they explained their concern.  They said that ever since the birth of their first child they had the family custom of lighting the candle at dinner as they celebrated the baptismal anniversary of their child! 

I must admit that as I heard this couple share this beautiful family custom, I felt more than a tad embarrassed.  I could not even remember the date of my own baptism let alone celebrate that pivotal day that began my faith journey! 

While the date of my ordination is hard-wired into my memory, the Sacrament that began my new covenant with the Lord and his Church, somehow slipped into oblivion.   

My friends, while historically, the Lenten season marked the final weeks of preparation for adult converts as they neared the waters of baptism at the Great Vigil of Easter, somehow, Lent has taken on a more penitential aspect for contemporary Christians rather than a time of remembrance of the pivotal Sacrament that forged a new covenant with Christ and his Church. 

All of Lent, in actuality, is a preparation for us to renew that commitment that we made or our godparents made for us at the time of our own baptisms.  At the Easter Vigil and all the masses on Easter Sunday, replacing the Nicene Creed, is the Renewal of our Baptismal promises.  We are asked, once again, to speak two small words that express our conviction and commitment in belief – Do you reject sin?  Do you believe in God the Father…the Son…the Holy Spirit?   The “I DO,” that we are asked to profess is a profound recommitment to that new covenant forged through the waters of baptism. 

As our Lenten journey nears its completion and the Great Week of our salvation dawns, may these final days keep our eyes focused on Jesus and his victory over sin and death that we celebrate in the first Sacrament, our Baptism!

Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Lent

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

The Gospel passage given for the Fourth Sunday of Lent is taken from the 3rd chapter of the Gospel of John.  Scholars tell us that John’s Gospel was the very last one to be written.  As to the exact author of this most beloved Gospel, scholars differ.  Was it the beloved disciple?  Was it one of the disciples of the original Twelve?  We will never know with absolute certainty.  What we do know is that it is the fruit of a Christian community that had already been established and had the relative luxury of pondering the sayings of Jesus that had been ever so carefully remembered and passed down orally from one generation of believers to the next.   

In the Eastern Church, John is referred to as ‘the Theologian’ for his Gospel plunges the depth of the words of Jesus to capture the meaning of his life and sayings. 

We probably have no more succinct summary of the entire meaning of Jesus and his New Testament than in the 16th verse of the 3rd chapter of John’s gospel quoted above.  One could aptly say that the entire New Testament is merely a commentary on this one verse! 

The message of Jesus is quite simply a message of liberating love that opens for you and me the hope of life eternal.  That reality of life eternal is not just a ‘me and Jesus’ experience but, rather, is intimately tied to living in eternity the beautiful life of communion with God and all the holy ones – our families, friends and all those who have striven to love God, in a magnificent ‘we and Jesus’ experience. 

During this pandemic year, we have been forced to ponder the stark reality of death that has haunted our lives reminding us of our essential mortality.  How important it is, then, for us to be ever mindful that as Christians, death will never have the final say in life: For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.

Reflection for Thursday of the Third Week of Lent

If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts. 

One of the beautiful prayer responsibilities of every ordained minister of the Church is praying the Liturgy of the Hours.  Composed largely of psalms from the Hebrew Scriptures together with readings and intercessory prayers for the people of God, morning, noon and night are sanctified by the lifting up of our voices in praise and thanks to the God from whom all blessings flow. 

Traditionally, the Hours begin with the praying of Psalm 95 with its refrain, If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.  In the ever-increasing cacophony of daily life, how difficult it is for all of us – unless you’re perhaps a Trappist monk – to discern the voice of God in the rhythms of daily existence.  Many struggle with the persistent wrestling as we wonder Is God truly listening to our prayers?  Is anyone out there! 

No wonder then that we begin each day of praying that our hearts not be hardened but rather supple and open to hearing the Lord, no matter how subtle and quiet that voice may be, in the course of our daily existence. 

Often, that ‘voice’ comes to us in the serendipitous moments that can surprise us with joy – the unexpected call from a long-lost friend, the moments of reconciliation and healing or just the sheer beauty of nature as we witness a sunset, or a child’s smile or simply a hug from a friend. 

So often, in our obsession with expecting some earth-shaking pronouncement from the Lord, we often miss his voice speaking in the countless moments of simplicity that make-up our day.  

If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Reflection: Third Sunday of Lent

In those days, God delivered all these commandments:
“I, the LORD, am your God, 
who brought you out of the land of Egypt, that place of slavery.
You shall not have other gods besides me. 

I remember as a child in parochial grammar school memorizing the Ten Commandments for Religion class. Unlike some folks, I loved the good sisters who taught us.  They were loving and dedicated in their ministry as well as excellent educators.  I remember distinctly Sr. Dorothy Ann tells us that the first three commandments are about our relationship with God and the last seven concern our relationships with our sisters and brothers.  The quality of our ‘keeping’ of the first three will greatly depend and our dedication and sincerity in ‘keeping’ the last seven! 

For the people of Israel, keeping the commandments mediated their covenant relationship with the Lord.  Rather than being an impersonal keeping of the letter of the law, the commandments brought life to one’s relationship with the Lord. 

With the fulfillment of that covenant relationship with the coming of Jesus, the Incarnate Word of God, living a life of blessing in many respects brought to fulfillment being people of the ‘law and the prophets.’  In the sermon on the mount and in the Beatitudes, shalt not is fulfilled by living the life of the blessed – blessed are they that mourn, the peace makers, those who hunger and thirst for justice, the merciful, the clean of heart… 

Indeed, the quality and depth of our relationship with God is determined by how well we live those last seven commandments that call us to live the life of the Blessed!  Every Lent provides a graced 40 days to look into our hearts and test the authenticity of our faith and if we have failed, to turn again in conversion to the God of unfailing mercy and begin again.

Reflection: Second Sunday of Lent

Then Peter said to Jesus in reply,
“Rabbi, it is good that we are here!
Let us make three tents:
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

Peter, James and John, in today’s Gospel story about the Transfiguration of the Lord on the high mountain, stunned them to the core.  It was one of those unforgettable experiences that, I’m sure, they carried with them for the remainder of their lives. 

As close companions of the Lord and as the familiarity that is characteristic of all friendship, grew, they were taken aback when the familiar gave way to the inexplicable.  On that ‘high mountain’ which was a highly symbolic image of the place of encounter with the Holy One, something happened.  In a brilliant flash of light, the disciples were privileged and graced with a moment of insight. ‘Insight,’ that marvelous English word that points to a deeper meaning of a reality beyond mere surface appearance.  In this extraordinary moment, the disciples were given an ‘inner’ glimpse of the deepest and most profound reality of the one whom they had come to know and call, Rabbi – Teacher.   

Words alone could not capture the deepest meaning of this moment.  It was left to symbolic and physical gestures to convey its unforgettable impact on these privileged witnesses.  In the presence of this radiant moment, the three fell prostrate in adoration and homage.  When they finally spoke, their first inclination was to memorialize the place of this extraordinary occurrence, “I will make three tents…” Deep in their heart of hearts, they wanted to remain, for this moment filled them with inexpressible joy, “Lord, it is good that we are here…” 

The early 20th century Lutheran theologian, philosopher and comparative religionist, Rudolf Otto, in his famous book, The Idea of the Holy, defines those moments when we sense the powerful touch of the holy in our lives as ones that initially ‘astound’ and call forth ‘reverential fear,’ while, at the same time, beckoning us with an indefinable beauty and goodness. 

Many of us, at one time or another, have had glimpses of such moments.  They might be in the presence of an extraordinary display of nature’s beauty or power.  Parents have sensed the power of the holy as they cradle their newborn child in their arms for the first time. Often, the moment of first love can touch us with the otherworldliness of being immeasurably gifted with unspeakable goodness and beauty. 

These and countless other moments of ‘transfiguration’ are reminders that our lives are much richer than what we so often settle for in the everyday humdrum and monotony of daily existence.  Our lives are fashioned for far more than the ordinary. All life holds the potential to be ‘sacrament’ for us, revealing and disclosing the very holiness of God in the beauty of creation.

Sunday Reflection: First Sunday of Lent

“This is the sign that I am giving for all ages to come, 
of the covenant between me and you 
and every living creature with you: 
I set my bow in the clouds to serve as a sign
of the covenant between me and the earth.” 

All of us, at some point, have experienced what Noah and his family did when, after some traumatic experience in life or some incredible challenge, we sense a profound relief as we know that somehow, mysteriously, all will be well.  While pessimists tend to see life as one depressing problem after another, for the optimist or, more precisely, for people of faith, life is a mystery to be lived and not a problem to be solved. 

The sign for Noah and his family that ‘all would be well’ was the magnificent rainbow that marked the sky after 40 days and nights of rain that devastated the earth.  It’s beautiful multicolor painted a silent promise across the cosmos that God was in charge and in his special covenant love for his people, no devastation how tragic or profound would ever have the last say in life.  His love would forever conquer the darkness that would ever attempt to rob life of its vitality and goodness. 

My friends, each year the Church sets before us the graced time of Lent as a reminder of that the original promise that love is indeed strong than death, that light is brighter than darkness, that hope conquers despair in the crucified and risen Savior, transcends time and is present with us in this moment of our life. 

As we begin our Lenten journey with its penance not of our choosing – the great pandemic – may we never lose heart.  All is in God’s loving hands whose ‘rainbow’ presence surrounds us in the love and care of family, friends and neighbors as a reminder that we face this moment, not alone, but with the hope of a community that is there to love us into a new beginning.

Sunday Reflection: Unclean

A leper came to Jesus and kneeling down begged him and said,
“If you wish, you can make me clean.”
Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, 
touched him, and said to him, 
“I do will it. Be made clean.” 

The Covid pandemic has created an understandable near obsession with ‘antibacterial cleanliness’ as we find ourselves wearing masks, spraying with disinfectant surfaces and avoiding close contact with others.  All of this is, of course, necessary in order to safeguard ourselves and others from spreading this highly contagious virus.  While there are those who might cavalierly flout such common-sense safe guards, the vast majority of us are exercising responsible behavior to preclude the spreading of this terrible pandemic. 

In the Biblical pre-scientific world, what constituted ‘uncleanness’ often mirrored the prejudices of the age. Diseases that were relatively non-infectious rendered a person ‘unclean’ and an outcast from society.  ‘Demon possession’ often became the facile explanation for epilepsy or the variety of mental disorders that we now commonly treat with counseling or medication.   

While we might scoff at such naïve attitudes, all of us should not be so hasty.  Sadly, many still render ‘unclean’ the latter-day outcasts of our society.  Sadly, for many, the outcast ‘other’ often bears the name ‘immigrant,’ the poor, persons of color and our sisters and brothers of the LGBTQ community.   

No wonder, then, the Church calls us yearly to repent such sinfulness and uncleanness in our own hearts as we hear the yearly challenge to repentance on Ash Wednesday: Turn away from sin and believe in the Gospel. 

And so, as we begin our Lenten journey this Wednesday, as ashes are placed upon our foreheads, may we humbly seek that purity of heart that only the Master can give to each one of us, as we join the leper in today’s Gospel story in pleading with the Lord of mercy: “If you wish, you can make me clean.”
  

Sunday Reflection: Kairos time

Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery? 

In the first reading for today’s liturgy, Job ponders the question that has haunted many of our sisters and brothers down through the ages, Is not our life on earth a drudgery?  The Biblical story of Job, of course, easily draws him to this conclusion as he encounters the darkness and unfairness of life at every corner – plague, sickness and death.   

As we look at the time allotted to us in our own journey through life, time can be viewed from two differing perspectives.  In seeing ‘time’ as merely ‘one damn thing after another’ in a never-ending unfolding of meaninglessness, the Greek’s referred to such time as chronos.  Chronos time meanders in a disconnected way leading to Job’s conclusion of life as drudgery. 

For believers, however, ‘time’ can be viewed from a radically different perspective.  Time that is holds meaning, that is directed by purpose, that surprises us with joy even in the midst of life’s inevitable challenges, is called Kairos time. 

For Jesus and his disciples, chronos time gave way to Kairos time.  Every moment for the Lord held the possibility of seeing his Father at work redeeming and sanctifying human existence.  The healing stories that make up so much of the drama of the Gospels speak of time as Kairos – the in-breaking of God to mysteriously bring hope from despair, light from darkness, life from death. 

As we move through these plague-days, it is so very easy to see time as Job did, one despairing and de-spiriting damn day after another.  Or, you and I hold the possibility within us to see the days before us as Kairos time, with each moment and day that the Good Lord gives us as an opportunity to witness to the transforming and healing power of Christ to bring meaning and hope out of this moment.  

It might be as simple as calling a long-lost friend and reconnecting.  It might be helping an elderly person maneuvering through the on-line technology to schedule a covid vaccination.  It might be simply picking up food at the store for a neighbor.  These and countless other opportunities we have each day can transform chronos to Kairos as we celebrate the miracle of life that embraces us each day.

Sunday Reflection: Teaching with Authority

A new teaching with authority. 

I strongly suspect that in the course of our lives, there have been teachers and mentors that have made an indelible and lasting impression on our lives.  When we stop to ponder the simple question, “Why?” invariably, that question will be answered by such responses as, “They knew their subject and could communicate it effectively;” or “They taught more by the quality and authenticity of their lives outside the classroom as well as in the classroom;” or “They practiced what they preached!”   

To be a teacher or mentor that has a positive and lasting impact on one’s students involves teaching ‘with authority’ that has been garnered by humbling learning at the feet of others who imparted the wisdom of teaching with the quality of their lives. 

One of the simple yet profound titles that Jesus bore was ‘the teacher.’  Jesus continues to be an effective teacher because the good news that he taught was radiated by his life.  That teaching was far more exemplified by his open acceptance of those who were considered the outcasts of society – the marginal and the lowly.  That teaching gloried in bringing healing to the broken hearted and challenging the complacent with a reminder of the potential greatness that resides in every person. That teaching was more about love than judgment, inclusion than marginalization, mercy and forgiveness than exacting justice. 

No wonder, then, that when the people heard the words from his mouth and saw his gestures that reflected love and healing, they said, “he teaches with authority!”

Let us drink deeply from this teaching.  May it continue to shape our lives so that we, too, can be signs of his good news in our world today.

Sunday Reflection: Called to Serve

“Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” 

A question that I have invariably been asked hundreds of times over the course of my 45 years as a priest is, “When did you decide to become a priest?”  And, invariably, to the utter astonishment of my questioners, I have responded, “When I was in the second grade!”  I go on to explain that I was so taken by the example of my second-grade teacher, Sr. Dorothy Anne, who daily radiated an inexpressible joy in serving the Lord and her students, that I wanted what she had.  In time, that seed of a priestly vocation was nurtured in varied ways until the moment of decision came in my Junior year of High School, on a class retreat when the still voice of the Lord echoed in my heart to ‘respond to the call’ and try my vocation in the seminary.  Over the intervening eight years, the Lord confirmed that response on my part with the invariable feeling of joy that affirmed his call in my life.  To varying degrees, that feeling has never left me. 

To be called by one to be part of a great adventure in life is, indeed, a precious reality.  For the vast majority of folks, that call comes to shares one’s life in the intimacy and partnership of marriage. In this unique form of friendship, two people are now called to face the world with its opportunities as well as challenges, not alone but together in helping to make family the center of our communities. 

Together with the intimate partnership of marriage, a call to serve others in the midst of one’s vocation in life is often realized in the rich and varied callings in life: as a teacher, lawyer, physician, nurse or whatever unique way of life one lives out the beauty of helping to build up the human community.  I would like to believe that these ‘vocations’ in life are not accidental but rather the way the good Lord discerns how the gifts and talents each one of us possesses may be used for the common good. 

As a new President and Vice-President together with their new administration begins in our country, how appropriate it is for us to remember in prayer all those who have responded to the noble vocation of service in politics.  While it is fashionable in these latter days to disparage those, who seek and serve in public office, such a jaundiced attitude is a far cry from the ideal of serving our sisters and brothers in helping to forge the common good and create a more perfect union among us. 

As we bask in this new springtime in our nation, let us rejoice and give thanks for all those who serve us in maintaining the common good of our land.  May they never forget that at the root of this noble calling of selfless service is always the other and not oneself.

Sunday Reflection: Extraordinary Ordinary Time

“Speak, for your servant is listening.” 

Today in the Liturgical calendar of the Catholic Church we mark the beginning of Ordinary Time.  In light of the events of the last two weeks, to speak of ordinary and time in the same sentence feels like a sacrilege!  My friends, in our beloved Nation, these weeks have been anything but ordinary.  We have witnessed the attempted siege of the symbol of our Republic, The Capitol, by latter day traitorous insurrectionists, deluded by a President who has forsaken in the past four years the foundational values that have truly made our Country great: profound respect for the rule of law, commitment to the truth and the inviolability of our free election process that is the cornerstone of our democracy. 

As Christians in this extraordinary ordinary time, what are we to make of these events that have so scarred our national identity?  What might God be telling us as the Lord of Life often writes straight with crooked lines? 

In Psalm 146 we read, “Put no trust in princes…powerless to save.”  These extraordinary ordinary times should be a sobering warning to us all to the dangers of the cult of personality that has doomed nations down through the centuries.  All of us, no matter how personally gifted we might be, possess shadow-sides and feet of clay.  The truly worthy leader of character and integrity humbly acknowledges his or her weaknesses and failings.  The strength of true leaders is always measured by their ability to selflessly listen to the wisdom of others as they lead both friend and foe to the common good. 

These extraordinary ordinary times should provide a check on a certitude that rather than being based on verifiable facts, is fabricated out of delusional feelings egged on by the irrational fear of the other rather than a reverence for the dignity of all God’s children. 

Providentially, this extraordinary ordinary time will draw to a close on the 17th of February as that same liturgical calendar will mark the beginning of the penitential season of Lent.  Perhaps, at no time in previous years will this season provide the collective opportunity for many to beg the Lord of mercy, for his forgiveness. 

For the forgiveness of forgetting that love is stronger than hate. 

For the forgiveness of sowing division rather than unity from the rich fabric of diversity that has made our country the shining light on the hill for all nations. 

For the forgiveness in demonizing those with whom we disagree. 

For the forgiveness in so easily being seduced in making profit be the measure of what truly constitutes national greatness. 

Yes, my friends, Lent cannot come soon enough for a Nation that is in need of reconciliation, healing and a new beginning.  As the Lord of all ages stands before a us, let us utter our silent prayer: 

“Speak, for your servant is listening.”

Sunday Reflection: Born Again

“In truth, I see that God shows no partiality.
Rather, in every nation whoever fears him and acts uprightly
is acceptable to him…” 

These beautiful and powerful words of inclusion were spoken by St. Peter to Cornelius, the gentile, in the Acts of the Apostles in the first lesson on this Feast of the Baptism of the Lord.  They are a reminder to us by the first Pope that no one is outside of the loving mercy of the Lord of Life.  There is no one who possesses an inside track on God’s partiality.  Coming from the lips of one raised within the tradition of the Covenant that God made with the people of Israel, now transformed by the new Covenant in Christ, it was a liberating message that Peter and the other Apostles were charged with bringing to the world. 

On this Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, how fitting it is to remember the wideness of God’s mercy as we sing in the beautiful hymn of that same name.  There is indeed a ‘wideness’ in the loving embrace of our God that sees all women and men as his beloved children, inviting them to eternal life through the waters of baptism. 

It has been said that Catholics of all the various Christian denominations has the most expansive understanding of salvation in Christ.  While there are some Christians who hold to the literal words of Scripture that one has to be baptized by water in order to be saved, thus relegating the majority of the world’s population to eternal exclusion from God’s presence, we Catholics hold to a far more inclusive understanding of salvation that does not straight-jacket God to the literal words of scripture. 

Catholics have traditionally believed in three kinds of ‘baptism:’ of water, desire and blood.  One can be ‘born again’ through the literal waters of the sacrament of Baptism; through no fault of one’s own and desiring to live a good and virtuous life or, as the great theologian Karl Rahner called it, living the life of the ‘anonymous Christian,’ be saved; and finally, one who may not have been physically baptized in water, is martyred for believing in Christ in their heart, is baptized by their own blood – such a person is indeed saved. 

We must never forget that God is bigger than the categories of human thought that so often exclude and divide.  God transcends such petty categories that more often say more about us than the Lord of Creation. 

On this Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, the giver of Baptism unto life eternal, our response remains the simple prayer:  Thanks be to God! 

There's a wideness in God's mercy,
like the wideness of the sea;
there's a kindness in his justice
which is more than liberty.