Baeisms—Fr. Bae's blog

27th Sunday in Ordinary time (Will we also lose the vineyard?)

2011-10-02T05:28:00.001-07:00

There was a man who decided, after studying world religions, that he wanted to visit a Catholic church during Mass. He wanted to see for himself a community at prayer who honestly believed that Christ was in their midst. He said, of all the religions, Catholicism offered the most amazing thing: the Body of Christ.

So he asked his Catholic friend if they could go to Mass together, and his friend was delighted to be able to share his faith. So one Sunday morning they went to church. On the way the friend explained about the different parts of the Mass: how we stand to pray and show respect, how we sit to listen, how we bow or genuflect before the Tabernacle, and how we kneel to worship. Sometimes the priest blesses the congregation with holy water. Sometimes the priest uses incense to remind us we are in the very presence of God.

The man understood only baptized Catholics in a state of grace could receive Communion. He couldn't wait to see how this effected the people who actually received the Body of Christ. That day, the men were in luck! The choir sang beautifully, and the priest gave a homily filled with Baeisms.

After Mass, over coffee and bagels, the friend eagerly waited to hear the man's reaction to attending his first ever Catholic Mass.

"So how was it?" he asked.

"Meh. OK," the man replied.

"OK? Just OK?" The friend had thought everything had been perfect. "What was wrong?"

So the man explained, "The problem wasn't what the church teaches; the problem wasn't how the truths of Catholicism were presented; the problem was the people."

The product may be perfect. The packaging may be beautiful. But if the purpose is lost, why bother?

What's the use of saying the Mass is the center and most important thing in a Catholic's life, what's the point in proclaiming Jesus is present in the Blessed Sacrament if the people don't believe it?

The friend was crushed, but asked, "How do you know we don't believe it?"

The man answered, "In church today I just looked around at how people act and how they dress. Looks like some are going to the beach or a ball game and others to a night club. Hardly anybody sang, except the choir. So that made what should be musical prayer into simply a performance. Some people were talking with their friends all during Mass and even in the Communion line. I saw a few texting. And one lady even answered her cell phone. But the worst part was after Mass, they didn't look to me like people who just were fed and changed by the Word of God.

"If you guys don't believe you have received the Body of Christ, why should I?"

Although these two men remained friends, the man never went back to a Catholic church again.

Does that story make you as uncomfortable as it makes me? Hits a little bit too close to home. Now we feel how the Jews must have felt in today's gospel reading when Jesus told them the parable of the vineyard.

"The kingdom of God will be taken from you and given to a people who will produce its fruits."

It's not enough just to belong. It's not even enough just to believe. We must also be active.

Do you know what the Mass is? Do you believe what the Mass is? Do your actions during Mass show you are focusing all your attention on God? Do any of those things that man saw at Mass apply to you?

But here's the kicker. You can dress to the nines, you can sing your heart out, you can kneel and stand and shout "Amen!" and you can believe from the very bottom of your soul that you are receiving the Body of Christ, but if you go out those doors, if your life and words and actions don't reflect your belief, your wasting your time.

And worse. You're wasting God's time. If God did not hesitate to take his vineyard away from the Jews, God's Chosen People, and give it to us, what's to stop him from taking it away from us and giving it to another people who will produce the fruits of the kingdom? People of peace whose lives have changed for the better, who forgive their enemies, who help the poor, who refuse to gossip, who defend the oppressed, who do not deceive or exploit or cheat one another?

Jesus doesn't want fans, he wants followers.

Christianity is not a spectator sport; it's full contact participation.

God doesn't want you to practice reading the Gospel, but to put the Gospel you read into practice.

Now I will be honest with you. You here are about the most inspiring community of Catholics I know. In here. Of course you can improve. We all can. Now, if you could only take what you believe in here, out into the world out there, we might succeed not only in helping God save our Church, but helping God save our world.

Our cool treasure (Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A)

2011-07-25T13:42:00.000-07:00

Satan called. He wants his weather back.

In recent days, I've heard people say, "It's hotter than hell." Of course, I've heard others say they don't believe in hell. Clearly these people have never been to Gillette, Wyoming... or Newark, N.J.

When I was in Taegu as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the 1970s, it was very hot in the summer. I would go into the courtyard (마당) at night and pour a bucket of water over my head. By the time I went indoors I was sweating again. Or when I was a priest in Masan in the 1980s, it was so hot and humid the host would melt to the paten and I had to pry it off with my fingers. It was so soft I couldn't hold it up except with two hands. Now THAT was hotter than hell.

Hell is not so much a place, as a situation. You could be in the most beautiful place on earth, Honolulu, let's say, but if you are surrounded by people you dislike and who dislike you; people who know all your faults and sins and look down on you and ridicule you; then you'd be in hell.

On the other hand, you could be in a totally miserable place (insert your favorite New Jersey city here), but if you are with people you love, who also love you; people who know your faults and weaknesses but love you anyway, then you'd be in heaven.

I have traveled to more than 25 countries, but there is one country where the people truly seemed happy even through they were very poor. Tanzanians are always smiling, even though they don't have iPads...or even iPhones. Many don't even have electricity. Yet they are happy.

I asked a missioner to Tanzania why this was so. He explained that family is more important to them than possessions; and poverty doesn't mean having fewer things than your neighbor, but rather having nothing to show hospitality to a guest. Tanzanians will kill their last chicken in order to make a meal for a visitor and it would be highly insulting for someone to refuse this hospitality. What a missioner would do is accept the meal, and then the next day send over a couple of chicks or eggs in gratitude.

Today we have the parables of the treasure hidden in a field, which a man discovers and reburies, then goes out and sells everything he has in order to buy that field. Does the owner know there is a treasure in his field before he sells it? Wouldn't it be sad and tragic and stupid of the man to realize there is treasure but sell his land anyway because he doesn't appreciate the treasure he has?

What about us? Do we appreciate the treasure we have in our Catholic religion? The treasure of the Eucharist? What would we do to save and protect this treasure?

You all have heard the story of the time I fell into the outhouse (변소) in Korea. Well, when I was in the Peace Corps, one of my friends accidentally dropped his wallet in the outhouse. How much did he value his money, and credit cards and drivers license? Was he willing to put up with a lot of **** to get back what he valued?

Now, in recent years our religion has fallen into a rather disgusting situation. Catholicism's credibility and reputation have been seriously soiled. But inside this is our greatest treasure: the Eucharist. It enables us to live the Gospel and to see Christ in one another. It has the power to turn hell into heaven.

So if you get discouraged or disheartened by the present state of the Church, remember Christ remains with us and gives us the strength to make our world a better place.

When people criticize the Church or make fun of the Church and make your life hell because of the Church, hold your head high and do not be afraid to defend or practice your faith. After all, it's cool to be Catholic.

We become the Body of Christ (Feast of Corpus Christi)

2011-06-26T09:27:00.000-07:00

There is a funny radio commercial for Netflix. I wonder if you've heard it. The announcer of an apparent gameshow asks the contestant, "If you are what you eat, what am I?" The man replies, "Pasta puttanesca." The answer sounds funny enough to make you laugh, even if you don't know the original meaning of puttanesca, which I can't tell you here. Google it. Let's just say it's pasta covered in a spicy tomato sauce of olives, capers, artichoke hearts and anchovies; and it's origin is even spicier.

Today's feast of Corpus Christi, or the Body and Blood of Christ gives us an opportunity to not only think about our understanding of the Eucharist, but our relationship to food in general.

Did you ever wonder why the Church requires us to fast from eating an hour before receiving holy communion? Of course, back when I was in high school, the rule was no food after midnight before receiving communion. Maybe the church fathers shortened the time because all the noise from the gurgling stomachs was drowning out the choir. The problem was, if you went to a later Mass, you thought even less about the meaning of the Eucharist then you did about food and wishing the priest would hurry up and finish so you could go eat breakfast.

Breakfast. Break fast.

I don't think the rule about fasting before receiving communion is just about respect for the presence of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, but also it is about getting our attention to focus on just what it is we are actually eating, what happens to it after we digest it, and then what happens to us.

You are what you eat. If you eat healthy food, you will be healthy. If you eat junk food...? But I don't think if you eat fast food, you'll become fast. However, if we eat the Body of Christ, it becomes us. Or rather, we become it. That's why we call it communion.

As the song says, "This bread that we share is the Body of Christ, this cup of Blessing, his blood. We who come to this table bring all our wounds to be healed.
When we love one another as Christ has loved us, we become God's daughters and sons. We become for each other the bread, the cup, the presence of Christ revealed."

Too often well-meaning Catholics think communion is just about them and Jesus, that their duty as a Christians ends with them presenting themselves free from sin before the priest so they can then receive communion and go back to their pews, go back to their homes and go back to their lives...undisturbed and unchanged

Communion is both the end and beginning of our life of faith. It's not just a reward for being good, it also gives us the spiritual power we need to be better so we can go out into the world and make it a better place by giving witness to the gospel of Christ with our lives.

The Eucharist binds us to Christ but it also binds us to one another. If I eat the Body of Christ and you eat the Body of Christ, Christ dwells in us and we in him, then you and I are more than brothers and sisters in Christ. We are one in Christ.

If we bow before the Blessed Sacrament, ought we not also bow reverently to one another? If we refuse to recognize the presence of Christ in one another, we insult Our Lord as much as the person who takes the host and throws it on the ground and steps on it.

Our Lord could have taken a flower or a rock and said, "From now on, this is my body and when you see this flower or rock, think of me."

But he didn't. He chose bread, food to be broken, shared and eaten as his everlasting memorial.

The people of the world hunger for the bread of life and too often we fill them with cream puffs and doughnuts. Junk theology is just as harmful as junk food.

Yes, the church desperately needs priests to give believers the bread of life.

But the world even more desperately needs Christians, like you, to put into practice the gospel of our Lord.

We are not rocks, hard and unbreakable; we are not flowers, to look pretty for a day and then fade away. We are the Body of Christ, to give ourselves for the life of the world.

End of the World FAIL

2011-05-22T04:39:00.000-07:00

I am happy to announce the world did not end yesterday. At least, not for us. Of course, for the millions of individuals who actually died yesterday, through tornadoes, earthquakes, floods and other natural disasters, or through war, accidents or diseases, their personal world did indeed come to an end. We can only hope and pray they were prepared to meet their God.

For me, my personal world came to an end a week ago Friday when I traveled to Guilin, China. As I got off the bus in a pouring rain, with my umbrella in one hand and my suitcase in the other, I was suddenly surrounded by a group of three pickpockets. I pushed them away twice. When I got to my hotel, I was relieved to see I still had my passport, my wallet and my airplane ticket. It was only the next day when I realized they had successfully liberated my iPhone. *sigh*

This incident could have put a damper on the rest of the trip, except I concentrated on what I still had and not on what I had lost. (My Precioussss!)

My visit to Korea reminded me to appreciate what is really important.

This was my first trip back since 1999 and many things have changed. Buddhist monks, for example, no longer wear 고무신 (rubber shoes). No, now they wear Adidas sneakers. In the past I noticed the fashion in Korea was about six months ahead of the States. If that's the case, men here should prepare to be wearing shiny neckties that sparkle like glitter on Christmas trees. Of course, six months from now will be Christmas, so that should work out just fine.

But it was while riding Seoul's wonderful subway system that I realized how much things have changed. In fact, for the first time since going to Korea in 1971 I felt like an outsider again.

Riding on the subway, I realized I was now the oldest one there. Actually I had become the 할아버지 (grandfather) that people give their seat to. But that didn't bother me.

I was usually the only foreigner in the subway car. But that didn't bother me either.

No, the only thing that bothered me was looking around and seeing I was the only person in the entire subway who didn't have a smart phone. That bothered me.

But once I got back down to Masan to visit the people from the parish I started there in 1981, they reminded me what is really important and what really matters: faith and family and friendship. And there's no iPhone app for that.

Which brings us back to the end of the world, which didn't happen yesterday. Surely none of you fell for that nonsense, right? If you did, you might want to consider signing up for a remedial 교리 (catechism) class. Jesus himself said that no one knew the day or the hour, not the angels in heaven, not even he. Only God the Father knows. And Jesus warned against false prophets who would arise with all kinds of predictions to mislead people.

Jesus says in today's gospel, "Do not let your hearts be troubled." Our religion is based on faith, not on fear. Any religion based on fear is not worth believing. Any government or political party that uses fear to control people is not worth supporting. And a life based on fear is not worth living.

When I visited Korea I saw a people who live not by fear but by faith. I saw a vibrant faith lived by a dynamic people, who've overcome poverty and hardship over the years. And they convinced me that now, more than ever, the Church in Korea needs Missioners.

As you know, Korea is the only country in the history of Christianity that brought the faith to itself without foreign missionaries. So what do I mean when I say the Church in Korea needs Missioners?

Korea doesn't need Missioners to spread the Catholic church in Korea. The Church in Korea is strong. Rather, the Church needs Korean Missioners to bring the Gospel of Christ to the world, a world torn by fear and fanaticism, a world ruled and ruined by greed and violence. Such a world deserves to end, and quickly.

Each of you in your own way have the power, indeed the duty to share your faith with the rest of the world, starting right here and right now. The old world is ending--every day--and a new world of faith and family and friendship is being born, with or without an iPhone.

Palms of Passion

2011-04-16T18:25:00.001-07:00

These palms serve as a reminder that Jesus is Lord. That Jesus is our Lord. Jesus is the center of our life. Not the government. Not money. Not power or fame or popularity. Not even religion.

We follow a crucified savior. We believe in a crucified God. We confess a crucified Lord.

God became low so that we might be raised up.

God became one of us in order to live with us, be like us and die for us.

And for what?

So that we might live no longer for ourselves but for God.

And how do we do that? How do we live for God?

By loving our neighbor as ourself.

By praying for our enemies.

By forgiving others and by asking for forgiveness.

By giving food to the hungry and liberty to captives.

By realizing the least among us is our brother and sister.

By starting each day with praise and ending each evening with gratitude.

By living life to the fullest each day.

By picking up our cross every day.

We follow Jesus even though we know he is going to the cross, because we know that to live and love and die with Christ means everlasting life.

It's tempting! (First Sunday of Lent, Year A)

2011-03-12T10:33:00.000-08:00

So, how are your Lenten sacrifices coming along? Did they last longer than your New Year's resolutions? Did you already forget and eat meat last Friday? Well, guess what? We still have six weeks to go. It's never too late to start and if you fail you can start over again. That applies to a lot of things in our life of faith. If you fail, start over. If you want to live a better life, today is the time to start.

Remember, our sacrifices during Lent are not supposed to make us miserable for 40 days so we can feel happy when the torture is finally over. For too many people, Lent is the time we pretend to feel sorry for our sins so we can pretend to be forgiven. We pretend Jesus really died so we can pretend he really rose from the dead. What a terrible waste, to go through our short time on earth pretending.

But death is very real. And life is very real. And so is love. And forgiveness. And mercy. The true purpose of giving things up for Lent is so we can be mindful of each moment. We can do some spring cleaning of our souls and focus in on what is real, and important, and right.

On this first Sunday of Lent we join Jesus in the desert. No distractions. No music. No texting. No email. No Facebook. No food. No busyness. We stand alone with our thoughts, with our fears, with our doubts.

Today's reading from Matthew's gospel tells us the Holy Spirit led Jesus into the desert precisely so he could be tempted by the devil. What's going on?

Just before he went into the desert to have a smack-down with Satan, Jesus was baptized in the Jordan river by John. At that time, Jesus received a profound insight into his own identity and mission: He was the Son of God sent into the world to save sinners.

That's pretty heady stuff. And if he is not prepared, could be very dangerous. So the Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness to test him, to prepare him for the most important work any human has ever undertaken.

The gospel story says that after 40 days, Jesus was hungry. Ya think? Now, before the über logical or scientific people among us question whether after 40 days of fasting Jesus wouldn't be hungry, he'd be dead, let me point out that in biblical terms, 40 is short-hand for "lotsa." So, in other words, the Israelites spent lots a years wandering in the desert. And after his resurrection, Jesus spent lotsa time teaching the apostles. So here, Jesus fasted for lots of days. It's like the Korea expression 만 as in 만국기. It's not literally ten thousand flags but lots of flags.

The point is, he was very hungry. And so the tempter approaches with a modest proposal. "So, Joshua (Jesus' name in Hebrew), you had an intense revelation back there at the Jordan river. Son of God, huh? So why be hungry. If you really are who you think you are, why not use your power and change this rock into bread? That shouldn't be too difficult, IF you are God's Son. Besides, who would know? At best, it will relieve your hunger. At worst, if you fail, if you can't change a stone into bread, you can call off this charade and go home and get married to a nice Jewish girl before you get yourself into some real trouble. Here. Do it now."

Jesus was hungry. Jesus was tempted. But Jesus knew who he was and why he was born. He knew to be true to his mission and to be true to his identity, the awesome power of God that flowed through him had to be used for others, not for himself. He came to live---and die---for others. And although Jesus was very hungry, he knew that bread could fill your belly but it could not fill your soul. It cannot satisfy our deeper hunger for meaning and purpose in life. So Jesus responds, "One does not live on bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God." Round one
Goes to Jesus.

So the devil takes Jesus to Jerusalem and makes him stand way up at the highest point of the Temple and says, "Okay, Josh, what about this Messiah business? Ya know, tradition says the Messiah will appear at the Temple. Look at the crowd gathering below. They're all watching you, wondering if you are going to jump. Go ahead. Just one more step and then, the Scripture says 'the angels will bear you up on their hands lest you dash your foot against a stone.' Won't that be a sight! Everyone will acknowledge you as the Messiah as you float gently to the ground."

Again, Jesus refuses to use his power for himself. He resists this temptation to put God to the test, even though the devil himself quotes the Scripture to tempt him. Jesus 2 - Devil 0

The third temptation is the most insidious and powerful: nothing less than all the kingdoms and empires of the world. All Jesus has to do is bow down to Satan and he can have literally all the power in the world. But Jesus recognizes this for what it is: idolatry. He rejects Satan. Jesus Game, Set, Match.

Idolatry is the worst sin in the Bible. Idolatry does not only break the first commandment, it's at the root of every sin because it makes something else more important than God.
How many dictators and tyrants and politicians sell their souls to the devil to grab and hang on to power?

Normally when we think of temptations, we think of vices. We think of walking along 42nd Street and 8th Avenue at 2:00 a.m., or taking a weekend trip to Las Vegas.

But notice Jesus' temptations are not something outwardly bad. Turning a stone into bread, performing a magic stunt, gaining world domination by a simple gesture, who would these hurt? What Satan wants Jesus to do is betray his identity as the Son of God, betray his mission to give his life for others and betray his relationship with the Father. And for what? Self gratification.

That's exactly what Satan wants us to do: betray our identities as children of God, betray our mission to live the gospel in all we say and do, and betray our relationship to God in order to gain earthly power. All for self gratification. And that's why it's important to give things up during Lent, so we can see more clearly how Satan tempts us every in many ways to forget who we are and why we are here. Coffee, chocolates, deserts, all good in themselves but also means of self gratification. We no longer enjoy these things, we need these things for our own happiness and sense of self worth

Satisfying our need for stuff, our desire for fame or popularity, our hunger for unlimited power or influence. It's all tempting. How many people give into these temptations every day? How many people lose their souls every day? Not only is the road to hell paved with good intentions, we walk down that road with baby steps, little betrayals and mindless, insensitive words and actions. We gather for Mass to ask God to help us resist temptation and to show our love and loyalty to the one who refused to turn a rock into bread, but who, instead, gave his life for us, turned bread into his body for us, that we might live, for God and for one another..

Making room for God (Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A)

2011-03-05T23:59:00.000-08:00

What do you think about rules? Probably what you feel about rules will differ if you’re a parent or a child. Now, this homily is directed to the parents, so you students don’t have to listen or pay attention. In other words, act normal.

As a general rule, children and teenagers don’t like rules, and the older they get the more they like to test the limits--of the rules and of their parents’ patience. Some parents love to make rules but don’t like to enforce them, in which case the rule quickly becomes ineffective. Other parents get way too much pleasure in punishing the least infraction of a rule just to remind you who’s boss, in which case the rules become oppressive.

Usually there comes a time when a parent makes a rule such as: “Don’t go out after 10” or “Don’t go see that movie” or “Don’t hang out with those students” and when asked why, the answer of frustrated and stressed-out parents is “Because I said so.” Sometimes they add, “As long as you live under my roof, you’ll obey my rules.”

There are problems with this approach. For one, the child starts counting the years, months, weeks and days until they are on their own. And when they do ultimately get a taste of freedom they sometimes get into serious trouble.

Another problem is, in the eyes of the child the parent becomes a bully if not a tyrant. And if you’ve been following the new these past weeks, you realize tyrants usually end badly.

There are different reasons for making rules. The first is for the child’s safety. “Don’t go across the street by yourself” or “always cross at the corner.” The second is for the child’s heath and development. “Get to bed early!” and “Eat your vegetables!” and “Don’t smoke inside the house!” (Okay, I made that up to see who’s paying attention.”

[I do have to share an incident when I was in the sixth grade. In those days they had these “toy” cigarettes: a hollow paper roll with red aluminum foil on one end that looked like it was lit. When you blew on it, a puff of flour came out that looked like smoke. So one day I wanted to see my mother’s reaction to me smoking so I walked in while she was talking with my aunts. She saw me puffing away and said, “Get out of here before you burn a hole in the rug.” I was devastated. I thought she cared more about the rug than she did my health! In the tenth grade I asked my parents if I could smoke. They asked why I wanted to smoke and I said because my friends smoke. My mother said that wasn’t a good enough reason and asked me to wait until I was a senior and if I wanted to start smoking then, I could. Of course, by then, all my smoking friends had emphysema and lung cancer. Not true! I’m seeing who’s paying attention! No, by then peer pressure had lost its hold on me so I never did smoke cigarettes.]

Where was I? Oh yes, and the third reason we make rules is for the child’s character development, to teach them right and wrong, and that our actions, good and bad, have consequences. Share your toys, apologize when you do wrong, help people in trouble.

Rules have reasons, but the day comes when the child grows up and is on his or her own. The parents can only hope and pray that some of the rules of childhood have lead to positive habits as the children become adults.

The same is true of religion. We have Moses and the commandments to guide us and train us to make good decisions, much like the training wheels when learning to ride a bicycle.

St. Paul then removes the training wheels by telling us eternal life is not about obeying laws but by believing in Christ.

Then Christ comes along in today’s gospel and says it not enough just to say we believe, we must act on our faith. We must live like Christians.

This week is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. This is the time to pause and take a hard look at our life. Are we living our beliefs, or do we take our religion off when we get home and put it in the closet until next Sunday?

Have you heard the popular story about the professor who went to class with a large glass jar filled with golf balls? He asked the students if the jar was filled and all agreed it was. Then he poured in some gravel and it filled in all the empty space. Again he asked if it was filled and they said yes. Next he poured in sand but by this time the students were not so quick to answer. Lastly, when it seemed nothing more could be added, he poured n two cups of coffee.

The point of the story is, had he started with the coffee or the sand that would be the end of it. Nothing more could fill the jar. Our lives are sometimes like that. Too often we fill our hearts and minds and lives with little things that do not really matter, and then we have no room for the important stuff.

Lent is a time to empty our jars and start anew. Give up coffee, or alcohol or smoking (things which ultimately do us harm), give up TV or listening to music on your iPod nonstop, things that prevent our minds from resting and thinking, give up all the things which may not be bad in themselves but which we do without thinking. We go through each day of our life on automatic pilot. Never thinking, never really enjoying, never really living. Mindfulness and detachment are our goals in the coming 40 days. Learn to love silence and empty space.

Do acts of kindness for others, help the poor, visit the sick, console those who mourn.

Empty yourself this Lent so that we can refill our souls with nothing less than God.

Ultimately, religion is not about keeping rules but by cultivating a relationship with no one less than Jesus Christ.

Seventh Sunday (Year A) Loving that S.O.B.

2011-02-20T02:00:00.000-08:00

“Love your enemies.” With these three simple words Jesus succeeds in discouraging, if not alienating all of his followers, including me and I would guess, including all of you. I mean, seriously. LOVE your enemies? I don’t want to love them, I want to destroy them. I want to get even, or at best, see them suffer. A lot. OK, maybe I don’t want them to burn in hell forever, but maybe get a little singed in Purgatory for a few million years.

Let’s face it, revenge seems so sweet, so satisfying. That’s why we love going to the movies and seeing the bad guys get caught and punished.

It may come as a surprise to you that I do have enemies. And it may come as an even greater surprise to learn that the man I consider my enemy is another priest. We live in the same house. (Didn't Jesus say our enemies will be those of our own household?)

He made it quite clear on several occasions he doesn’t care for my dog, he doesn’t like my singing and he doesn’t care for me. To be fair, it’s not just me. He doesn’t get along with a lot of people and he is notorious for insulting just about everybody, making sarcastic remarks and for generally making life miserable for those around him.

So how am I to love such a person? I can go out of my way to avoid him. I can stop obsessing about clever comments to cut him down the next time we meet. Or I can stop speaking to him altogether. I can keep my mouth shut when others mention what a nasty old man he is. All of that is nice, but not of that is love.

Jesus demands I do more. I must pray for him….and that means more than praying that God will take him real soon.

I must pray that God remove from my heart all ill will and negative thoughts regarding this man. I have to actively pray for his good. I have to forgive him.

And I know from experience that this is impossible, at least for me. But God can do the impossible and it’s God’s job to forgive, so when I pray I am honest with God and I say, Lord, I know you commanded me to love my enemies but I find it impossible to love that S.O.B., so I am asking you to let me love and forgive him through you. Most of all, remove from my heart all negative feelings and evil desires for revenge.

Well, about a year ago, that man asked to see me and I thought, dear God, please don’t let me punch him. He wanted to see me because he said it came to his attention that he hasn’t always treated me with Christian charity and wanted to ask for my forgiveness.

I didn’t say, “I’ll think about it.” I didn’t form a committee to discuss his request. I said, “Of course I forgive you.”

So he and I both felt better. For about a week. Then he started in again saying nasty things and making life miserable. Sometimes I think that even Mother Teresa would have strangled him. Then just last week I was in the dining room at Maryknoll and I must be honest, if I see him at a table I go sit someplace else (unless it’s Lent and I want to do penance by eating a meal with him.) But he came and sat with me. We exchanged greetings and ate our meal and although there was pleasant conversation with the other people at table, he didn’t join in. When it came time for coffee and desert, I got up and cleared away the dirty dishes. I asked if I could remove his and he said, “Why yes, much appreciated. That’s very kind of you.”

Someone once said, you do not destroy your enemy when you kill him. You destroy your enemy by making him your friend.

You do not love your enemy because of who he is; you love him because of who you are.

And you are who you are because of who God is. And God is love. And God is perfect. And if we are to be sons and daughters of God, as followers of Jesus, we must struggle every day to love everyday perfectly.

No, it’s not easy. In fact, it’s impossible. But if a crucified carpenter can rise from the dead, then all things are possible by the power of that same spirit which raised Christ from the dead. And that Spirit is in all of you.

A change of heart for Valentine's Day (The Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time)

2011-02-12T04:00:00.000-08:00

You have no idea how often I've heard people say they've either stopped coming to church or they come but they don't "get anything out of it." My question to them is, "Well, what did you put into it?" And what exactly did you expect to get from the Mass?

If you expect nothing, that's probably what you will get. If you expect to be mildly entertained, especially during this homily, you'll most likely be mildly disappointed. Did you expect Jesus to hear and answer your prayers? Now, that may or may not happen. It depends on you.

How did you prepare for Mass today? Did you stumble out of bed at the last minute, throw on some clothes and rush out the door? Did you sit silently in your car because you had an argument with your parents, siblings or spouse? Did you curse the driver in the car ahead of you who got the last parking space?

Perhaps a more important question is: why did you come to Mass today? To meet friends? To get your parents to shut up about coming to Church? To fulfill your Sunday obligation? To avoid committing a mortal sin which would result in your going straight to hell (although deep down you really don't believe that---but why take a chance)?

Or rather did you come with a grateful heart to show God your appreciation for the blessings you received? Did you come because you really need God's help with a major crisis you are facing or for just enough strength to get you through another day or week? Did you come because you want God to do something for you or because you are ready to do something for God?

Before the proclamation of the gospel at each Mass we make three signs of the cross that God may open our minds, open our lips and open our hearts. Are you ready to receive God's message? To proclaim God's message? To believe God's message? In other words, are you ready to let the living word of God into your life so that it can transform you?

Again I ask, how did you prepare for Mass today and what did you expect to happen?

Which of you would come into the church carrying a bag of garbage? Imagine if someone actually did that! Worse, what if, at the offertory, that person came up to the altar to offer the bag of trash? And at communion time, that person came forward again, this time to add the Eucharist to the bag of trash. What a waste! What a sacrilege! But isn't that exactly what we do if we come to Mass with a heart filled with hatred, anger, jealousy, resentment, lust and greed?

In today's gospel, Jesus says, "If you find yourself offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has anything against you, leave your gift and go first and be reconciled with them and then come back and offer your gift."

If you want a life-changing experience at Mass, you've got to do your homework. Swallow your pride. Put your ego aside. Go to the one you have offended. Apologize. Make amends. Be reconciled to one another. In other words, die! Die to yourself so that Christ might live in you.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. This means a card and maybe chocolate and flowers for your spouse, boyfriend, girlfriend or best friend. The classic symbol of love on Valentine's Day is a heart with an arrow through it. Did you ever think about that?

We have images of a chubby Cupid shooting his arrows by which we are smitten with our love for someone. But it's an arrow that pierces and hurts and wounds. Love hurts.

And from his place on the cross, Jesus looks down on you and says, "You're telling me?!"

While we appreciate your monetary offering at Mass, today let us also offer Jesus our hearts, however broken or wounded or fearful they may be. Let us let go of our grudges and not dwell on past hurts. Love casts out all fear. Let the love of Christ conquer your hearts and heal your hurts and cast out your fear.

In a few moments when you receive the Body of Christ and say "Amen", say it boldly and with confidence. Be prepared to return to your seat, to return to your home, to return to your family and friends as a changed person, new person ready to live a new life in Christ who now lives in you.

The person you were when who came into Mass today will not be the same person as the one who leaves.

Bethlehem or bust (Fourth Sunday of Advent)

2010-12-18T20:04:00.000-08:00

Joseph and Mary had such wonderful dreams and plans for the future. Following Jewish custom, they would be engaged for one year before living together as husband and wife. Then one day their dreams came crashing down because of two terrible facts: Mary was pregnant and it's wasn't Joseph's baby.

Joseph was filled with so many conflicting emotions and thoughts. Doubt, anger, hurt, resentment, confusion, betrayal, sadness and fear. Fear of what his family and friends would say when they found out. Fear of being thought a fool. Fear of being judged by religious leaders. Fear he had trusted and loved the wrong woman. But most of all, fear of what would happen to Mary when people found out. The Law of the Lord was clear. Such women must be stoned to death.

How many sleepless night did Joseph spend, tossing and turning, tortured by these thoughts and awful possibilities? Then he made up his mind to divorce her secretly so as not to expose her to the Law.

It was at this point that the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and told him, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child within her is conceived by the Holy Spirit."

Joseph rose from his sleep and took Mary as his wife and the rest, as they say, is history.

As we prepare to celebrate Christ's birth, consider there are people in our church today whose dreams have been shattered and whose future is in doubt. Some of you may be angry, hurt, resentful, confused, sad and filled with fear. The gospel message for you today is the same as to Joseph and the same as to Mary, "Do not be afraid." You are exactly where God wants you to be and no matter what happens, God will be with you.

Do not be afraid of losing your job. Do not be afraid of losing your health. Do not be afraid of losing your life. God will be with you. This is the message of Christmas. This is the hope born in a manger in Bethlehem.

I have never been to Bethlehem, but I hope to go there someday. My friend and colleague, Father Joe Fedora, lives and works in Peru, in South America. He sent me a Christmas message two weeks with the good news. He said:

"Guess what? I´m going to Bethlehem and I´m planning on spending lots of time there! I’m traveling light; I can’t afford to be weighed down by things I won’t need. One carry-on should do it. Getting there shouldn’t be a problem; I’ve been there before and, besides, I’ve lots of angels and stars showing me the way. Once I arrive, I’m going to take off my shoes and maybe even kiss the ground. And then I´m off to the manger – the AIDS ward and soup kitchen and prison – to hang out with Jesus. I’m going to Bethlehem and don’t even have to leave Lima.
“When I was sick…
When I was hungry…
When I was in prison…”
(Mt.25:30-40)
Where will you be spending the Holidays?
May the angels and stars in your life show you the way to Bethlehem.
Merry Christmas!
Love, Joe

So as we prepare to celebrate Christmas and hope that all the parties and presents will take away whatever pain we may be feeling, remember Bethlehem is only a car, a bus or a subway ride away. A homeless shelter, an old folks home, a hospital. All these are the stable of Bethlehem because in all these Christ may be found.

And when you find Christ, or rather, once Christ finds you, you'll no longer be weighed down by fear. Do not be afraid to take Joseph, and Mary and Jesus into your hearts and into your homes. Do not be afraid. God is with you.

Myth Conceptions (Second Sunday of Advent, Year A)

2010-12-04T16:20:00.000-08:00

Last week I spoke a little about the true meaning of the word "myth" and I want to go deeper into this today. As I mentioned, "myth" in popular usage is one step away from "fairy tale." But in a religious or sociological context, myths give our lives meaning and help us develop common goals based upon shared visions or dreams.

Even secular society needs and uses myths. The lofty words of our Declaration of Independence, stripped of myth language, would be basically "England, Get out!"

Instead, we read and recall with pride these patriotic phrases: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal and that they are endowed by the Creator with certain unalienable rights and among these rights are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

But this is pure myth! It is not evident that all men are created equal, as anyone who watches the evening news or drives through a poor neighborhood can attest. And while we wish our rights are "unalienable", we hear of people being deprived of their rights every day. And being created presupposes a Creator who endows us with these rights. The myth being since God granted these to humans, no person--let alone government---has the right to deprive people of them. Pure myth!

None of the above is scientific or provable, or it can be argued, even logical! But these secular myths resonate in our hearts and inspire us to strive and struggle to do and be better until such a vision is realized on this earth.

And we people of faith have access to a vast treasury of myths from which to draw inspiration and meaning. Take, for example, these beautiful words in our first reading from the prophet Isaiah 11:1-10

On that day, a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse,
and from his roots a bud shall blossom.
The spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him:
a spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
a spirit of counsel and of strength,
a spirit of knowledge and of fear of the LORD,
and his delight shall be the fear of the LORD.

Not by appearance shall he judge,
nor by hearsay shall he decide,
but he shall judge the poor with justice,
and decide aright for the land’s afflicted.

He shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.
Justice shall be the band around his waist,
and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.

Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
the calf and the young lion shall browse together,
with a little child to guide them.

The cow and the bear shall be neighbors,
together their young shall rest;
the lion shall eat hay like the ox.

The baby shall play by the cobra’s den,
and the child lay his hand on the adder’s lair.

There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain;
for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the LORD,
as water covers the sea.

On that day, the root of Jesse,
set up as a signal for the nations,
the Gentiles shall seek out,
for his dwelling shall be glorious.

These words still resonate within our hearts and give humans inspiration even after 2,700 years! They speak of a future toward which we can all aspire. Yes, the wolf and the lamb living peacefully together is surely a myth in its noblest sense, and one that humankind would be infinitely poorer without.

The promise and coming of the Messiah, along with the Exodus from Egypt, are powerful myths that have sustained the Jewish people for millennia. Indeed, without these myths to hold them together, they would never have survived the loss of Temple, monarchy, land and freedom. Their myths gave them their identity so they would never forget who they are or why they are here no matter what people did to them.

And we too celebrate our rich treasury of myths surrounding the birth of the one we hail as the Messiah, not just for the Jews but for people everywhere in the world. Advent is our season of waiting so we can enter into the spirit of our Jewish brothers and sisters to anticipate that no matter what happens to us or to our world we hold onto this promise from God for a better tomorrow.

It took 200 years for our country to realize its promise that all men and women are created equal. And it has taken us 2,000 years to live out the promises of Christ in the gospel. We have come far but we have so much more work to do. But thank God for our sacred myths that give us here on earth the visions of a heaven toward which to strive.

And so in answer to our atheist neighbors we say, "Of course, we KNOW it's a myth and that's exactly why we celebrate!" May the light of our holy myths dispel your darkness!

The true "War on Christmas" (First Sunday of Advent, Year A)

2010-11-27T17:38:00.000-08:00

There is a billboard just outside the Jersey entrance to the Lincoln tunnel that is getting a lot of attention. It shows the three wise men following a star and the words: "You KNOW it's a myth. This season, celebrate reason."

This billboard and others like it were erected by a group calling itself Atheist Americans. It has several people upset and others all worked up. Certain radio personalities see this as more proof that there is an orchestrated "War on Christmas."

The odd thing is, both groups are right. The story of the wise men visiting the Christ Child is a myth. But a myth is not a made-up fairy tale. A myth, in theological terms, is a special story that gives meaning and purpose to people's lives. Myths may be based on historical facts or not. That is secondary to the meaning the story gives.

Myths use poetic or symbolic language to convey deeper truths that cannot be expressed in purely scientific terms. If I tell you "I am very sad" that may be scientifically accurate, but saying "My heart is broken" is closer to the truth, although no x-ray will show a literally broken heart.

Atheists claim there is no scientific proof for the existence of God. But what scientific proof is there for the existence of love? Or forgiveness? Or mercy? We know these exist because we experience them; we feel them; they fill our hearts with hope. Such it also is with God.

The Christmas story celebrates all these things in human flesh. The story of the three wise men teaches that love, forgiveness and mercy are intended for all people and everyone can find them, if they seek them with open hearts. And if you don't believe in that, you are truly a sad person who deserves our pity more than our anger.

But then, what of the so-called Christians who are convinced there is a so-called War on Christmas? These well-meaning but misguided souls are right, but for the wrong reasons. An atheistic billboard is not an attack on Christmas. Stores putting up signs that say "Happy Holidays" is not a war on Christmas. The government forbidding a Nativity set on federal property is not an attack on Christmas.

If anything, atheistic billboards and the government should remind us of just how precious the freedom of religion is and how it needs protection.

No, the real war on Christmas is going on every day when shoppers knock each other down and trample people to get at the bargains. The real war on Christmas is when we are so busy decorating our homes and going to parties and wrapping last minute gifts we don't have time to listen to friends who feel alone, or sick or depressed. The real war on Christmas happens when we stop acting like Christians.

And so we come to the First Sunday of Advent, a time of waiting and warning. If there's one thing Americans hate doing and do very poorly is wait. We want immediate action and instant gratification. But Advent reminds us somethings cannot be rushed, no matter how much you want them right away, like the birth of a baby.

And the gospel gives us a warning not to become too attached to this present world, because it can and will all change in an instant. Lighting the first Advent candle will not make the daylight return, but it will help dispel the growing darkness until it does.

Sometimes, as people of faith, the only thing we can do is wait. And watch. And pray. We pray for atheists, that they may soon see the true light. And we pray for believers, that their eyes do not become too accustomed to the darkness.

And we wait with open hearts for the day when the world once again gives birth to love, forgiveness and mercy. Two thousand years ago a Child was born and our world forever changed. May the light from that "myth" guide our lives and the lives of all men and women everywhere until the end of time.

Reporting for duty! The Feast of Christ the King (Nov. 21, 2010)

2010-11-20T20:52:00.000-08:00

There was once a king who ruled a large kingdom with justice, peace and prosperity. Many men proudly served their king as loyal and brave knights. One knight, Sir Dexter, was the bravest of all. He set out to defend the kingdom. When he did not return for several months, the king became worried. Finally after more than a year's absence, Sir Dexter returned. On foot. His horse was dead. His suit of armor was all dented. His lance was broken. He had two black eyes. And his head, arms and legs were covered with bruises.

"Sir Dexter!" the king exclaimed. "What in God's name happened to you?"

"Your majesty," the knight said after catching his breath. "I am back from doing battle with your enemies all along your western border."

The king was confused and said, "But I don't have any enemies on the western border."

The knight replied. "Well, you do now."

Today we celebrate the solemnity of Christ the King. It is the last Sunday of our liturgical year and the goal towards which every Sunday of the year points. Indeed, for people of the Christian faith, the kingship of Christ is the ultimate goal of human history and of the entire universe.

We believe that on the Last Day, a trumpet shall sound and all the dead shall be raised and brought before Christ, our God and king, to be judged. And like Sir Dexter in the opening story, we will appear with all our bruises and battle scars before Christ who will judge us not so much by how many Masses we attended or rosaries we said or how well we understood the Bible. Rather, our lives will be judged on whether, by our words and actions, we made people friends or enemies of God's kingdom. Did we draw people to God or drive them from God? Did we show by our actions that love is stronger than hate, that forgiveness is mightier than hurt, that mercy is more powerful than revenge? Or did we imitate the ways of the world?

When Jesus stood before Pontius Pilate and announced, "My kingdom is not of this world," he didn't just mean his kingdom does not have geographical borders, but rather that the values of the kingdom of God are not things this world respects or recognizes. The weapons used by defenders of God's kingdom are not those used by defenders of this world.

In the kingdom of God, you do not destroy an enemy by hating, much less by killing him or her. That just succeeds in making more enemies. Our weapons are humility, and truth, and honesty and service.

On the other hand, we cannot long use the weapons of this world: exploitation, cheating, deception, lying and violence without becoming like this world. If we become like this world, we cannot expect the kingdom of God to advance in our hearts, much less on this earth.

The Romans nailed Jesus to a cross not just to punish him but to warn us, his followers, of what will happen to any who dare oppose the empire by following Christ. And above his head they hung a sign with the initials I.N.R.I. (Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews).

Today we boldly lift high the cross of Christ as a warning to empires: your power is finished, your reign has ended, your days are numbered. The final victory is Christ's. Yet the spiritual war continues.

The battle is not waged on some distant border against a distant foe. The spiritual warfare in which we are engaged goes on everyday in the battlefield of our own hearts and minds and souls.

On this great feast of Christ the King, let us redouble our efforts to do good and avoid evil. If we have bad habits, let us renew our resolve to break them. If we have sins, let us repent and confess them. Let us show everyone we meet how great our God is. Let us make friends for God while we can.

And let us look to that day when we will all stand before the throne of God as allies of Christ on earth. And if the king says, "I didn't know I had any allies on earth," we can proudly claim, "You do now."

Going to Hoboken in a hand basket (26th Sunday in Ordinary Time)

2010-09-28T19:18:00.000-07:00

Today's gospel annoys me, and it should annoy you as well. I mean, we go to all that trouble to learn the commandments so we can live by the rules, avoid going to hell and hopefully getting into heaven, then WHAM! along comes Jesus with this parable.

Lazarus, a poor man, dies and goes to heaven; the rich man---who has no name and therefore no identity--dies and is buried. Lazarus finds himself cradled in the bosom of Abraham, which is a great place to be cradled. The rich man finds himself in a place of torment, so we can assume if it's not hell it's at least some place in north Jersey. Probably near Bayonne or Elizabeth. Maybe Newark.

Anyway, that's not the disturbing part, unless you happen to be visiting us today from New Jersey, in which case I apologize, but don't blame me, I didn't write the gospel. Take it up with Luke should you be lucky enough one day to find yourself in the bosom of Abraham and not in that "place of torment." Trust me, it's an improvement.

But I digress. What is really disturbing about today's gospel is that Luke does not tell us WHY the rich man ended up in hell. It doesn't mention any mortal sin he may have committed to suffer eternal torment. It doesn't even say he intentionally ignored Lazarus lying outside his door. He was rich and he enjoyed his things and presumably he enjoyed his life. What's wrong with that? Apparently something.
Surely the gospel doesn't mean to imply that all rich people are headed toward hell.

At the beginning of Mass, we confess to God and one another that we have sinned in our thoughts, in our words, in what we have done---and what we have failed to do. A sin of omission! When we do not do good, we commit a sin! Missing Mass is the most obvious. But we also have the obligation to love one another, to forgive one another, to help one another. And when we do not do these things, we, like the rich man, run the risk of winding up in Hoboken. (Sorry! I meant hell!)

But there is another annoying part in today's gospel. What did Lazarus do to merit going to heaven? Did he pray a lot? Did he go to church? Luke doesn't tell us. Does Lazarus go to heaven just because he's poor? Put another way, do poor people automatically go to heaven?

We know poor people can be as greedy, rude, and selfish like the rest of us. So what makes Lazarus special? The answer is in his name. A name, especially in the Bible, gives us a clue about a person's character and role in life. Lazarus is the English form of the Hebrew name Eleazer. It means, "God is my help." Lazarus trusted God alone, in spite of all hardships, poverty and hunger. And God rewarded that trust. The dogs that came to lick Lazarus' wounds are a poor person's health care.

Some in this church today are like Lazarus. Perhaps they lost their jobs or their health is not good. Maybe they are sad or depressed. Today's gospel calls them to put their trust in God alone. And the rich man is given no name, not just because he has no identity, but so that each of us can put ourselves in his place and examine our lives by gospel values and not just enjoy life. We must be concerned about the poor people around us. God may be helping them through us.

[Here's proof God has a sense of humor. On my way driving on the local streets to church today, I spotted a poor, old woman sitting on the curb. I thought , "God, I have no time to stop and help that poor person. I have to get to church so I can tell parishioners to help poor people!"]

If we ignore the cry of the poor, if we refuse to do good, we runs the risk of ending up someplace much worse than Hoboken.

Interreligious bake-off! (Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time)

2010-09-11T17:11:00.000-07:00

I have a recipe for the best cake in the world. This cake is so delicious, you'll never want any other. One taste and you'll be in heaven. This recipe is better than any cake recipe anyone else has ever known. And it's free!

Do you detect anything missing in what I just said? I can stand up here and brag all I want on how good this recipe is, but the only way to convince you I have the recipe for the most excellent cake EVER, is for me to actually bake that cake and let you taste it for yourselves. Of course, it's always easier--and safer--just talking about it than actually baking it. After all, anybody can talk. And I might fail.

You see, the problem is, our Muslim neighbors across the street say they have the best recipe. What's more, they claim it came directly from God. The Buddhists up the block insist their cake is out of this world. The Jews, of course, gave us the original recipe but we perfected it with a special, all-important ingedient. Now Protestants contend we Catholics have distorted the recipe by using way too much sugar and frosting and we Catholics think their cake is only half-baked.

We could go on and on arguing whose recipe is the best, but there is only one way to prove it: bake the cake. Taste it. Offer it to others. Then let the world decide.

This analogy would be funny were it not for the wars that have been fought and are being fought even as we gather in prayer today, wars over whose religion is the true religion, whose way of life is best, whose understanding of God is correct.

How ironic that we profess belief in a God of compassion and forgiveness; ironic because centuries ago Catholics slaughtered Muslims in the battle for Jerusalem, and Catholics killed Eastern Orthodox Christians in the siege of Constantinople and Catholics butchered Protestants in France and Spain---all in the name of the God of compassion. To be sure, over the centuries Muslims and Protestants have killed their share of Catholics.

Whose to blame? There's plenty of blame to go around. Most religions have blood on their hands. So, is there something wrong with the recipe? Perhaps the ingredients aren't right? Or is the baker to blame? Some people became so discouraged, disappointed or disgusted with all the sins committed in the name of God and religion that they have given up on baking altogether. We call them atheists.

This Book of the Gospels we carry in solemn procession at the beginning of Mass, this Book we enthrone upon the altar, this Book from which we proclaim the life and teachings of Jesus Christ, this is our recipe for nothing less than eternal life. But it is only as good, and useful, and effective as our willingness to follow it and live by its instructions. Believe, Repent, Forgive, Love.

Believe in Jesus. Repent your sins. Forgive others. And love! Love God and love your neighbor as you love yourself; love one another; love your enemies. Leave out any one of these and your faith will be incomplete. Your faith will be incomplete because your life is incomplete.

Today's gospel underscores the great mystery of God's forgiveness. God does not sit passively in some far away heaven until we decide to return. God actively waits and worries and watches the distant horizon for any sign we have come to our senses. God runs out to meet us halfway.

Forgiveness is actually the main ingredient of our recipe. Jesus gave the last drop of his blood on the cross to make God's forgiveness available, not just to us but to everyone. Who are we then to deny forgiveness to others?

As the Parable of the Good Samaritan points out, it doesn't matter why we return to the Father. God doesn't care to listen to our lame excuses for why we came back, God is just happy to have us back home. And those of us who never left, who never strayed, who never sinned, who are we to pout like the older brother when God is merciful to sinners? Trust me, the day will come when you too will stand in need of forgiveness.

Nine years ago the world watched in horror as a few misguided Muslims slammed airplanes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Since then, some misguided Christians concluded there must be something evil about the Quran for it to produce such evil men. Last week the world watched in horror as some misguided Christians threatened to burn the Muslim holy book. Wouldn't it be just as wrong to conclude there must be something wrong with the Bible for it to produce such idiots? Is there something wrong with our Bible if it produced the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the recent sex abuse scandals? Would burning the Bible solve the problem?

But is the problem with the Book, or with the bakers?

I've read translations of parts of the Quran. Some of it is very beautiful. Some of it is very violent. The same thing can be said of the Old Testament. Now, the Quran does mention Jesus and accepts him as a holy prophet sent by God. It says he was born of the Virgin Mary and even rose from the dead and returned to God. So far so good.

But the Quran explicitly denies Jesus is the Son of God or that he was crucified or that his death on the cross brought salvation to the world. Of course Muslims deny this. If they didn't, they'd be Christians.

The question isn't why Muslims don't believe in Jesus as the Son of God; the question is what difference does it make to those of us who do?

We cannot confess Jesus is Lord, then not follow his example.
We cannot believe Jesus died for our sins, but then stubbornly refuse to forgive others.
We cannot call ourselves Christian, but then ignore Jesus' commandments.

Believe. Repent. Forgive. Love.

Anything less is a recipe for disaster.

Flipped over Flipped---a movie review

2010-08-25T20:05:00.000-07:00

I begrudgingly attended the preview showing for the new Rob Reiner film Flipped (opening Friday, August 27, 2010), thoroughly expecting to roll my eyes for 90 minutes of saccharine, prepubescent puppy love.

Was I pleasantly surprised! This film drew me in and won me over by reawakening memories and emotions long dormant or at least dulled by the sensory overload of modern living.

The story harkens back to the late 1950s, when life was certainly simpler yet paradoxically deeper. By contrast, life these days seems way more complicated yet oddly superficial.

"Back in the day" people communicated by actually talking face to face with one another, or else showed disapproval by refusing to talk at all. This was long before the Internet, email and yes, even this most magnificent iPad, reduced our social interaction to a series of LOLs and :)s, if not WTFs.

Against this backdrop of life before cell phones, familiar (albeit all too rare nowadays) human feelings bubble to the surface: shyness, infatuation, hurt, courage, honesty and integrity shine out without the aid of mind-numbing FX and CGI.

When was the last time you saw a movie that both entertained you and made you think? No 3D, no IMAX, no gratuitous nudity, no vulgarities, no sex scenes, no drugs, no violence---just superb acting bringing a well-written and delightful script to life. If there is any downside to the movie, it's in the realization that over the past 50 years we somehow have lost the centrality of family. People still face the very same situations raised in the movie, only now our problems are compounded by isolation and self-imposed exile from one another.

Not coincidentally, I'm sure, the mothers in the two families are the catalysts for change. A family meal and a basket lunch provide pivotal moments for the characters to break through barriers and break down walls.

Coming against Sty Stalone's blockbuster The Expendables (which I also enjoyed, btw, for its adventure genre: mindless mayhem) with nonstop explosions, chase scenes and bloody violence, the low-key Flipped will not rake in the big bucks, but by contrast it will leave the audience rather than the filmmaker enriched.

Of women and Earth (Feast of the Assumption, Aug. 15)

2010-08-18T07:14:00.000-07:00

As a doctrine articulated by the Church as dogma, the Assumption of Mary, that is, after her death she was assumed body and soul into heaven, is only 70 years old. But the belief that, like her Son, Mary now lives in eternal glory goes back to the time of the apostles.

Last June I had the opportunity to visit the ruins of Ephesus in Turkey and see the place where local tradition maintains our Blessed Mother spent the last years of her life under the care of St. John, the Beloved Disciple. An ancient story told by Orthodox Christians is that as Mary lay dying, the remaining Apostles were drawn to her side. Only Thomas was late---as usual. After he arrived, John brought him to see her tomb but when they opened it, her body was gone.

From this arose the Orthodox feast of the Dormition (or sleep) of Mary, a phrase alluded to in the second reading where St. Paul refers to "those who have fallen asleep in Christ."

Since those early days, Christians gathered in Ephesus every August 15 to celebrate Mary's bodily assumption into heaven. And it was in Ephesus that the first Christian church was built and dedicated Mary. And it was at that church the Council of Ephesus met in 431 and declared Mary to be the "Theotokos", the Bearer or God, or as we say in the West, the Mother of God.

It is regrettable that Catholic devotion to the Virgin Mary is misunderstood by many Protestants and remains a source of division. Although the tradition is old, the feast of the Assumption has an important message for people today.

If we believe that at this very moment the body of the Virgin Mary has been glorified and that she lives in heaven with her Son, we are compelled to respect women and the Earth. After all, it was through these that the savior came into the world and it was from these that every cell of Jesus' body came.

There was nothing wrong with a woman bearing the Son of God; there was nothing wrong with that same woman entering heaven as a woman.

How can we glorify a woman in heaven and ignore the plight of women on earth? How can we advocate for the rights of women in our society yet we deny them rights in the Church? Respect for women must start with us here.

The Vatican has determined that women cannot be ordained. This strikes me as odd, since more than any male priest, Mary can point to Jesus and say, "This is my body; this is my blood." If a woman can produce the body of Christ physically, why can't a woman produce it sacramentally? The argument that women cannot be ordained because none was present at the Last Supper, taken to its conclusion, means women have no right to receive communion either.

But women face larger problems then this. Health care, education, employment, domestic violence, human trafficking and exploitation all threaten the women of the world on a daily basis.

The Earth, too, continues to suffer abuse and pollution. Do we take the Assumption of Mary into heaven seriously? Then let us honor, protect and advocate on behalf of women and the Earth today.

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(Note: After delivering this homily at St. Paul Chong Ha-Sang Korean Catholic church last Sunday, I attended a meeting of the parish building committee. On the blueprints for the new center, I noticed there were fewer toilets for women then for men. They promised to correct this oversight. The women of the parish will be greatly relieved. [insert groan] Sometimes advocating for women can be something very practical and down to earth! ~ FB)

Becoming prayers (17th Sunday Year C)

2010-07-27T07:43:00.000-07:00

Today's readings focus on prayer, prayer not as a monologue, where I tell God what's on my mind and what God already knows, but as a dialogue. A conversation. I ask, and God gives. I seek, and God helps me find. I knock and God opens.

One of my Facebook friends posted something on my wall today. She said, "God is not answering our prayers. And my tears mean nothing to him." It took me quite awhile to respond. Finally I wrote, "That's exactly what our Blessed Mother thought on Calvary."

Of course, no one knows what went though our Blessed Mother's mind that dark Friday afternoon, as she cradled the crucified body of her Son. Her pain must have been tremendous precisely because her love and her faith were tremendous. But perhaps because she was in constant communion with God, this sustained her in her greatest hour of need.

Today's readings ask us to consider not just if we pray, but how we pray. Abraham didn't recite formal prayers to God to spare the citizens of Sodom. He bargained with God like you would bargain in an open market for a basket of figs. God kept his side of the bargain. Unfortunately there were not ten righteous men in all of Sodom, and so the city was destroyed.

In Luke's gospel today, the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray and he gives them what we have come to call the Lord's Prayer, prayed by Christians around the world to this day. Of course, the version we pray is not like the one in today's gospel nor is it even like the one in Matthew's. That's the point. Jesus is not giving us the exact words in which to pray. (If he were, we'd be praying in Aramaic.) Rather he gives us the attitude and spirit in which to pray.

One of my favorite stories about prayer concerns a simple grandfather, uneducated and unsophisticated who had stopped coming to church for many years. Then one day he decided it was time to make a fresh start so he went to confession. The priest gave him absolution and, as a penance, asked him to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Marys, and three Glory Bes. There was only one problem. It had been so long since he'd been to church, he forgot how to recite all these prayers. And he was too embarrassed to say anything, let alone admit he couldn't read.

About 30 minutes later the priest came out of the confessional and was surprised to see that grandfather still in church, kneeling in front of the altar, and apparently still praying. Now, the priest knew it shouldn't take so long to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Mary's and three Glory Be's so, out of curiosity he drew closer to see if he could hear the grandfather's prayer. To his surprise and confusion, this is what he heard: "A B C D E F G... the entire alphabet to W X Y Z" and then the old man would start all over again, "A B C D..." After listening to this two times, the priest could not contain his curiosity so he tapped the grandfather on the shoulder and gently asked what he was doing. "Father, I am truly sorry," the old man explained, "But I forgot how to say my prayers. So instead, I thought I'd offer God all the letters of the alphabet many times and let him put the words together whatever way he wants."

My brothers and sisters in Christ, the prayer of that old man went straight to God's ears because it was spoken from the heart. It doesn't matter if we pray in Latin, Korean, English or Swahili, or use fancy sentences and correct grammar or even what words we use, as long as we too pray from the heart.

A Maryknoll missioner in Irian Jaya, which is in eastern Indonesia, made this observation about the people there, many of whom are not Catholic and who still practice native customs, what we might call "superstitions." After watching a fisherman prepare to lower his nets, the priest observed: "The pagan who prays to the wind is closer to God than the Christian who does not pray."

Do we really pray? By that I mean do we do more than simply recite prayers, whether it's the rosary, or Stations of the Cross, or even the Mass? Prayer is like having God's personal phone number. It's nice to have the contact information but if we don't stop and listen, how will we hear God's answer? It would be like speed dialing the same number over and over again then hanging up even before we hear God say hello? We would be spiritually stalking God. Yes, we need to say prayers, but above all we need to stop and listen in silence for God's answer in the deepest recesses of our heart.

It's interesting how in English the word "prayer" has two meanings. The common understanding is words spoken to God; but it also can refer to the one who prays. We are not only supposed to offer prayers, we are supposed to become prayers.

When our every waking moment is spent giving glory and thanks and praise to God, when we beg God's mercy and intercede on behalf of others, when we spend time with the Scriptures and listen with our hearts to God's voice, we become prayers and our life is God's answer.

Silence vs. Service (16th Sunday, Year C)

2010-07-18T00:00:00.000-07:00

There is a story about a Catholic missionary who worked very hard to bring Catholicism to Africa. He built a church and rectory, he built a school, he built a clinic, he built a parish center where old people could gather and young people could play. Soon he had a very successful congregation coming to church every Sunday and on holy days of obligation. The priest never took time off, never went on retreat, never rested. Soon his health gave out and he had to return home for treatment and rest.

When he returned to his mission work several months later, he was shocked and saddened to see his parish compound completely abandoned. All his old parishioners were attending the new evangelical church across town. He asked them what had happened. One woman told him, "Father, you did a lot of good while you were here. You gave clothing to the children and food to the hungry and medicine to the sick. We thank you for this. We learned a lot about Jesus but we never really knew Jesus."

If people do not see Jesus in our actions, maybe it's because they don't see him in our hearts, or reflected in our eyes, our through or words. Maybe they don't realize he is in us because we never took the time to realize he is in us. We were so busy doing the work of the Lord, we neglected to get to know the Lord of the work.

Getting to know someone takes time. We have to spend time talking and listening to know one another. This is no less true of our relationship with the Lord than with our friends and family.

In today's gospel (Luke 10:38-42), Martha was the perfect host: cooking, cleaning, serving. But Mary was the perfect disciple: sitting, listening, learning. While no doubt appreciative of Martha's hard work, Jesus praises Mary for knowing what really matters. Sitting at the feet of the Lord is better than washing the feet of the Lord.

Jesus probably wouldn't have said anything had Martha not complained. By complaining she showed she wasn't really serving out of love but because it was her duty as a woman. She resented that Mary got to do what men got to do: be and act like a disciple.

I suppose if this gospel were to be written today by the men in the Vatican, Jesus would tell Mary to get up and go help her sister in the kitchen.

Luckily, Luke shows Jesus welcoming women as disciples. We are all called to be disciples by sitting at Jesus' feet.

Sitting at the feet of the Lord means we are attentive and open. We nurture a personal relationship with Jesus. Only then can we go out and do as Jesus did and as he commands. Some people think this gospel means prayer and contemplation are better than sacrifice and service. That misses the point. It's not either/or; it's both/and.

Without prayer our service is so much busyness, no matter how well-intentioned. But without service our prayer is incomplete because we fail to fulfill the Lord's commandments. Our prayer makes Jesus present to us; our service makes Jesus visible to others.

As in the first reading, when we extend hospitality, even to foreigners, we receive God into our homes. In the second reading, when we take our sufferings to the foot of the cross and add our sufferings to those of Jesus, we show how God is present today, even in our particular situation. And in the gospel, when we combine the attentiveness of Mary with the activities of Martha, people get to know Jesus because we know Jesus.

The Good Muslim (15th Sunday) Year C

2010-07-11T07:30:00.000-07:00

Today's gospel asks the all-important question: who is my neighbor? Almost every major religion has a variation on the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. In today's gospel, Jesus takes two commandments of the Hebrew Scriptures and combines them into one Great Commandment: Love God, and love your neighbor as yourself.

God we can pretend to love, loving ourselves may be harder but at least we have a better idea who we are. But our neighbor? Hmmm... I may have to move.

To most people, of course, neighbor is broader than just the people living next door or down the block, but it usually is still limited to people who at least think like us if not necessarily look like us. (All Mets fans are my neighbors; Yankee fans, not so much.)

The young man in today's gospel was eager to do good and be good and he wanted to make sure he covered all his bases so he asked Jesus to define just want he meant by "neighbor." In turn, Jesus gives us the now famous parable of the Good Samaritan.

If Jesus were to use today's examples, we'd have the parable of the Good Muslim, the Good Japanese or the Good Wall Street Broker. That is, anyone whom we consider below us and not worthy of our help, much less our love.

The gospel describes two others, a priest and a Levite, who saw the man lying deathlike on the side of the road and did nothing. Now, in their defense, they were only following the law as they understood it. They were probably going to Jerusalem, if not the Temple, and had to maintain ritual purity if they were to enter. Contact with blood or with the dead would render them ritually impure. So just to be safe--and holy--they cross to the other side.

In life more often then not we are like that priest and Levite. Our position, our family, our job give us excuses for not fulfilling the commandment to love our neighbor. I remember back in 1987 I visited Havana Cuba as part of a trip organized by Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. I remember sitting at the Alvero Dera beach, arguably one of the most beautiful beaches in the world with soft, white sand and clear, warm, turquoise-colored water. I remember sipping a Cuba Libre (rum & Coke) and puffing on a Cuban cigar and thinking, "Ronald Reagan may be the most powerful man in the world, but he will never get to do this."

It's a paradox of life: the more responsibilities we have, the less freedom we enjoy. But Jesus tells all of us who, like the young man in the gospel who wanted to do good and be holy, we have two choices; we can use our positions as excuses to avoid reaching out to others or we can go beyond stereotypes and prejudices and fulfill the commandment to love anyone whom we encounter who needs our help, regardless of race, religion, economic position, political party, social class, sexual orientation, age or illness. And if, as is even the case with priests today (In Maryknoll our lawyers and insurers tell us whether or not we can extend hospitality to "outsiders"), let us at least humbly admit that nothing we do can make us holy. Only God can do that.

Cursed by Freedom (July 4th & St. Andrew Kim)

2010-07-04T00:02:00.000-07:00

Today we celebrate two wonderful anniversaries: the feast of St. Andrew Kim Dae Gun and United States Independence Day. These afford us the opportunity to think about and give thanks to God for our faith and for our freedom. We also need to ask ourselves, what is freedom for and how do we use it or abuse it? Likewise we must consider our faith and whether our actions prove to the world if our faith is right or wrong.

Personally, I think our society is cursed with freedom. Not only do we have too much of it but we don’t know what to do with it. Worse, we forget what life was like before we gained our freedom. We gather peacefully in this Church this morning because of the bravery of countless men and women who gave their lives so we could worship as Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus or—and this is the true beauty of freedom—not worship at all. Or not believe in God. It’s our choice and our freedom.

The problem is most of us never had to risk our comfort, let alone our lives, in order to practice our religion. For us the U.S. Constitution guarantees the freedom of religion, but St. Andrew Kim Dae Gun and the blessed martyrs did not have the luxury to sit around and wait for their government to give them the freedom to practice their faith. If you knew for certain being baptized would result in your death, would you do it? If you understood becoming a Catholic priest would cause you and your family to be tortured and killed, would anyone here still want to become a priest?

St. Andrew Kim saw in the Catholic faith a better future, not just for himself but also for Korea. And I see in the Catholic Church in Korea hope for the Catholic Church in the world.

You are so blessed. The blood of the Korean martyrs runs through your veins and you breathe the air of freedom in the United States. The question I ask you is this: are you using your freedom to witness to your faith in this country? And why is this important?

It seems to me in the competition between Christians and Muslims to win the hearts and minds of our own people and to influence secular society, Islam is winning. That is, Muslims are more respectful of their religion than we are of ours. As you know I recently spent a week in Turkey. Turkey is a modern, Muslim country. They are not ashamed to practice their faith in public. What’s more, they are way more respectful of the Prophet Muhammed than we are of Jesus Christ.

Muslims seldom refer to the Prophet by name and when they do, whether in word or in print, they add “Peace be upon him.”

Now Muhammed was a prophet but only a prophet and only a man. We Christians confess Jesus Christ as the Son of God and Savior of the world, yet how much respect do we give the holy name of Jesus? In our society, sad to say, “Jesus Christ” is said more often as a curse than as a blessing. Even among Catholics. Instead of us making society holy, we allow society to make our religion vulgar and use the name of Jesus as a swear word.

But we can change our society; we can change our country; we can change our church if —and only if—we are willing to change ourselves.

Let us thank our Muslim brothers and sisters for the example they have given us. Let us resolve never to use the Name of the Lord in anything but prayer or in a respectful manner. St. Kim Dae Gun gave his life for the Name of Jesus; are we willing to risk the ridicule, scorn and laughter of our friends if we speak up when Jesus’ name is thrown around like so much dirt?

What’s the use of believing we have the true religion if we treat it with contempt? What’s the use of being free if we live as slaves to popularity and pride? Our religion is only as true as we live it.

St. Kim Dae Gun gave us an example, not to be praised but to be followed. We honor him and all the martyrs of Korea not so much by singing their praises but by risking our pride and popularity to imitate them by putting our faith into practice.

The greater of two goods (13th Sunday, Year C)

2010-06-27T00:01:00.000-07:00

A man was entrusted with just enough oil to keep a lighthouse working for a month. But then one day a woman came and said she desperately needed fuel for her stove to cook for her children. Later, another neighbor came by and asked for fuel for his car so he could take his pregnant wife to the hospital. Finally a friend said he needed some fuel for his furnace because his house was very cold and he had elderly parents.

Because the man had a good heart he gave a little oil to each person who asked for some. We might even have done the same thing. After all, isn’t that want Jesus asks us to do? Share what we have with those who are in need?

But then, a terrible storm came and the lighthouse ran out of fuel and went dark. As a result, three ships crashed into the rocks and sank, with the loss of hundreds of lives.

At the investigation, the man tried to explain, but the judge was harsh and clear, “You had one and only one responsibility: to keep the light on in the lighthouse. Because you lost sight of your mission, many lives were lost and many families are now suffering.”

In today’s gospel we hear four examples of people who had to choose between two good options. The first incident is between the messengers of Jesus and the Samaritan villagers. They had heard about Jesus and his message sounded appealing. What holds them back is their patriotism. Samaritans and Jews were bitter enemies. As soon as they learned that Jesus and his disciples were Jews and were heading for Jerusalem, their admiration turned into opposition. How could they betray their loyalty as Samaritans by following a Jewish Messiah?

Patriotism is usually a good thing. It should inspire us to work for the good of our country as well as the good of others. But let us not forget the Nazis were very patriotic. When patriotism becomes the lens through we view and judge all reality, including spiritual and eternal reality, then we are in danger of losing our perspective, losing our way and ultimately losing our souls.

The second incident involves a man who says to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replies, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:57-58). Why did Jesus say that? Because discipleship isn’t easy or comfortable. It is good to have high economic goals so that one can provide adequately for oneself and for one’s family. Yet following Jesus may require you to give up the very things that seem to offer you security. When this stands in the way of wholeheartedly following Jesus, then something is terribly wrong.

The third incident is that of the man who wanted first to go bury his father before following Jesus. Burying one’s parents is part of the commandment to “Honor your father and your mother” (Exodus 20:12). So this is a man with high moral principles, a man who keeps the law and is highly concerned about his religious duties. Again this is a very good virtue. Who can criticize it? Yet Jesus is saying we should not allow even religious observance to give us excuses to keep us from following Christ wholeheartedly. After all, if Jesus is who he says he is, the greatest honor we offer our parents is by living our life to spread the Good News.

Finally there is the man who wants to go and say farewell to his family before following Jesus. He follows the example of the prophet Elisha (1st reading) who bid his family farewell before becoming Elijah’s disciple. This man has high social and family values. One could only wish that all men would let their families know their whereabouts at all times! Yet before the urgent call of the kingdom of God, social and family concerns take a back seat. Jesus can save our families; our families cannot save Jesus. “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62.

Many times in life, indeed many times each day, we have to choose, not between something good and something bad, (that would be—or at least should be—easy), but rather between two good things. Should you stay single or get married? Both good choices. Do you get married or enter religious life? Again, good choices. Do you apply to this college that has a good reputation but is expensive, or to that university which is closer to home and specializes in your major? Should you keep the job which you really like or take the one that offers better pay and benefits? Decisions, decisions.

The ultimate question, indeed, the only question, is what does God want for you? That’s easy: a good, meaningful and joy-filled life.

As for decisions, if God would only send you a text message or post a note on your Facebook page or at the very least leave a voice message on your phone, that would be great. Unfortunately, God doesn’t work like that.

It might just mean that God really doesn’t care whether you eat 간짜장 or 된장찌개 for lunch; or whether you should go to Harvard or Queens College, or whether you should head out to Roosevelt Mall after Mass or go bowling at Whitestone. Some things just aren’t all that important. One thing is clear: God wants what is best for you.

And God has given you all you need to make the right choices: a brain with the ability to think and reason, a conscience to let you know what is right and wrong, family and friends to rely upon for advice and help, and common sense. Above all, God has given you faith in Jesus Christ and a community of believers to support and guide you along the right path and help you get up again when things go wrong. God has blessed us with free will. We are free to make our own decisions and make our own mistakes. God can even work with these. When faced with two good choices, do what I do: choose one and then pray, “Lord if this is your will, help me. If not, stop me.” Works every time.

Today’s gospel tells us we cannot be part-time disciples. We cannot take our religion off after Mass on Sunday and store it in a closet till we go to Church. Our faith must permeate and penetrate every aspect of our life: our thoughts, our words, our actions, and our relationships. The Eucharist gives us the courage to answer the question: are we ready and willing to dedicate our lives to the one who gave his life to save us?

Trinity R Us (Trinity Sunday, Year C)

2010-05-30T00:05:00.000-07:00

Trinity Sunday Year C

Jesus said, "Who do men say that I am?"

And his disciples answered, "Some say you are John the Baptist returned from the dead; others say Elias, or one of the prophets."

And Jesus answered and said, "But who do you say that I am?"

Simon Peter replied, "Thou art the Logos, the Second Person of the Godhead, existing in the Father before all time as His rationality and then, by an act of His will, being generated, in consideration of the various functions by which God is related to his creation, but only on the fact that Scripture speaks of a Father, and a Son, and a Holy Spirit, each member of the Holy Trinity being coequal with every other member, and each acting inseparably with and interpenetrating every other member, with only an economic subordination within God, but causing no division which would otherwise render the substance no longer simple."

And Jesus answered and said, "What?"

Beloved brothers and sisters in Christ, today the Universal Church celebrates the sublime mystery of the Holy Trinity, a mystery so profound that, at least according to my opening story, even Jesus doesn't understand it. Although the gospels mention Father, Son and Holy Spirit, the word "Trinity" is not found in the Bible. It developed over time as our understanding of God evolved over time.

We literally bow before this mystery. As you know, it is our custom when saying the Glory Be to bow. This is for two reasons. One is because we are praising God as God in the Trinity and there is no greater mystery or truth. But we also bow because this mystery, this solemnity, this truth is also about us.

There is a story about the great St. Augustine of Hippo, (that's Hippo the city in north Africa, not Hippo the animal in the Nile River) who lived in the fourth century. Anyway, he was a great philosopher, theologian and doctor of the Church. Augustine was preoccupied with the Blessed Trinity. He wanted so much to understand the doctrine of one God in three divine persons and to be able to explain it logically.

One day he was walking along the seashore and reflecting on this matter. Suddenly, he saw a little child all alone on the shore. The child made a hole in the sand, ran to the sea with a little cup, filled her cup with sea water, ran up and emptied the cup into the hole she had made in the sand. Back and forth she went to the sea, filled her cup and came and poured it into the hole.

Augustine drew up and said to her, “Little child, what are you doing?”
She replied, “I am trying to empty the sea into this hole.”
Augustine asked her, “How do you think you can empty this immense sea into this tiny hole and with this tiny cup?”
She answered back, “And you, how do you suppose that with your small head you can comprehend the immensity of God?” With that, the child disappeared.

Of course, I would argue that even with just a small cup you can indeed comprehend the ocean. If you filled a small cup with sea water from the Gulf of Mexico, you would learn more than you cared to know about what is happening to the ocean. The more important question is: what does this mean to us?

The mystery of the Holy Trinity is as much about us as it is about God, for we are created in God's image and likeness. In other words, the more we strive to understand God, the more we will understand ourselves. And the more we understand ourselves, the more we will understand God.

We become like the God we worship. People who believe in a warlike God, become violent themselves. People who worship an angry and vengeful God became angry and vindictive. And people who worship and believe in a loving, caring, self-sacrificing God become loving and compassionate people.

The Holy Trinity---Father, Son and Holy Spirit---means that we believe in a God of relationship and community. God is in an eternal, loving and life-giving relationship with the Son. The Son eternally reflects life back to the Father. This love is so powerful and dynamic it generates the Holy Spirit and sends it out to create, fill and renew all things.

We, too, are people who find our meaning and our life in relationship and in community. Now, relationship and community are neutral terms. That is, they can be either good or bad, healthy or unhealthy, life-giving or life-destroying.

Take a few moments and think about the different relationships in your life or in your past. We are born into family relationships. At first we might think our family is perfect, but as we grow older we realize our family is quite dysfunctional. This can discourage us until we look around and see all families are dysfunctional in one way or another. The good news is that our families do not have to be perfect; but they do have to be loving.

Sadly, sometimes we find ourselves in unhealthy relationships, where members abuse, exploit or take each other for granted. This can be so toxic it first destroys love and then it destroys life.

I do not think God wants us to remain in unhealthy relationships---or marriages. Of course everyone has to work at improving their family life and it is work and it is hard. I often tell brides and grooms on their wedding day that a wedding is a one day event, but a marriage is the achievement of a lifetime. I applaud the couples who stay together despite difficulties, but I also commend individuals who have the courage and sense to know when it is not going to work.

And what is our community then but an extension of our family, with all its charm, problems and neuroses? Just like every family faces difficulties, so does every community. But if we always bear in mind that God is the center of our family, of our community and of ourselves, there is no problem we cannot overcome through faith, hope and lots of love, not to mention a lot of patience, humility and forgiveness.

Never forget: we are made in the image and likeness of God. We are called to live in right relationships and in healthy communities. We stand today before the great mystery of the Holy Trinity. We beg God's blessings and graces to help us be better and do better and before this mystery we cannot help but humbly bow.

iPad App for the Spirit? (Pentecost, Year C)

2010-05-23T00:15:00.000-07:00

Congratulations and happy birthday, Church! Today we celebrate the great and glorious feast of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descended on a small, ragtag bunch of trembling disciples and transformed them into fearless proclaimers of the Good News. What’s more, they now had the power to live the message they proclaimed.

As you know, last month the teachers gave me this amazing iPad. Because the iPad was so popular, I had to wait two weeks for it to arrive. Even then I found out I couldn’t use it until I activated it and I couldn’t activate it until I upgraded my laptop computer. Next I had to sign up for internet service and only then did the amazing new world of instant communications and knowledge become available to me.

Next week my cousin, who is also my godfather, and his wife will be celebrating their 50^th wedding anniversary. I considered giving them an iPad but first I checked with their children to see what they thought of the idea. They said it a nice thought but it would be a waste of money because my cousin has a brand new Apple laptop computer that he only uses to check email. An iPad would just become a very expensive paperweight.

You can have the most hip, most up-to-date, most technologically advanced piece of computer equipment in the world, but if you don’t know how to use it or even want to learn, what good is it?

You can have the most perfect, most profound, most spiritually enriching religion in the world, but if you don’t know how to activate it or how it really works and don’t care to learn, what good is it? Just as none of our electronic gadgets, from TVs to DVDs to computers, can work long without a power source, so too our religion requires more than just knowing the rules and saying prayers. Do only that and before long you too will run out of energy.

What is Pentecost? For the Jews and for the apostles who, after all, were Jewish, it was the holiday that occurred 50 days after Passover. Passover commemorated their deliverance from slavery; Pentecost commemorated the giving of the Law to Moses in Mount Sinai.

Passover made them free; Pentecost made them a people. The Law of Moses helped them live in a way that showed their special relationship with God. The trouble was, try as they might, it seemed almost impossible to obey all 613 commandments. But on this particular Pentecost, which we just heard about in the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, something wonderful happened. They received the very Spirit of God to energize them and fill them with wisdom and knowledge and the power to live holy lives. They spoke in new languages and this message of Jesus Christ became available to the peoples of the world.

Pentecost is the birthday of the Church because, unlike every other feast throughout the year, this is not just something that happened in the past. It is an on-going miracle. Since that day in the Upper Room the Holy Spirit has not ceased to pour down upon the earth. Every year we celebrate Jesus’ birth; we commemorate Jesus’ Passion and death; we contemplate his Resurrection; but we participate in Pentecost. Every day. You’ve all seen pictures of that terrible oil spill ongoing in the Gulf of Mexico? Well imagine the Holy Spirit pouring down on us for 2,000 years. Hopefully with better consequences.

That same Spirit which hovered over the waters at creation, that same Spirit that filled the Temple with God’s glory; that same Spirit that covered the Blessed Virgin Mary and allowed her to conceive the Son of God; that same Spirit which raised Jesus from the dead; that same Spirit that descended on the Apostles; that same Spirit that changes simple bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ at every Mass, is given to us now at this very moment in this church.

We no longer need to force ourselves to obey the commandments which come from the outside. Now we feel inspired to keep the commandments because the Spirit of God dwells in our hearts.

In a marriage, if the only thing holding a couple together is the law or force of habit, and if the husband and wife need to be told when to communicate, when to apologize, when to forgive, when to sacrifice and when to celebrate, the marriage soon runs out of steam. It becomes routine, it falls into a rut. It becomes work. But if love dwells in their hearts, they don’t do things for each other because they have to; they do it because they want to. They do it because it brings them joy.

Has religion become too much like work? Have you fallen into a rut? Do you come to Mass because your parents or spouse or friend force you to come? Or worse, your conscience? Do you read the Bible or say the rosary only as a penance? Then your faith will soon run out of steam and your religion will be heavier than a paperweight.

But if you allow the Spirit of God to fill your life, that Spirit which you received at Baptism and which was strengthened in your hearts at Confirmation, then you will have access to all the mysteries and wonders of the world around you.

Religion will be exciting because your life will be exciting. You won’t wonder if God is really out there because you will experience God in here. You won’t need an iPad or a special app to connect with the world. But it helps. And sure is fun.

Taking off our training wheels (Ascension of the Lord)

2010-05-13T15:43:00.001-07:00

One of the big moments in a child's life comes when she trades in her tricycle for a two-wheeler bike with training wheels. Soon enough the day arrives to remove even these. Self-confidence and independence only come from experience, from trial and error, and above all from overcoming the fear of falling or failing. An anxious but proud parent's guiding hand helps maintain balance for awhile but then comes the moment of truth when the parent lets go and the child rides all on her own. "Mom! Dad! Look what I can do!" This small step on the road to maturity demands a willingness on the part of the parents to let go.

Among other things, the Ascension of Our Lord marks the removal of our spiritual training wheels. Unless we experience Jesus' absence, we will never grow up. Unless we learn to make our own mistakes and learn from them, we will not develop a sense of balance, compassion and justice. More importantly, unless Jesus leaves us we will never experience much less appreciate the power of God within us: the Holy Spirit.

That awkward time between the Ascension and Pentecost was necessary to remind the apostles---and us--that without God we can do nothing, but with God there is nothing we cannot do.

The Ascension also celebrates the holiness, not just of humanity but of all creation. When Jesus ascended into heaven he took his glorified human body with him. His human, albeit resurrected, body was made from the elements of the world around him. Even after rising from the dead, Jesus is recorded as having eaten bread and fish. In other words, God continues to interact with the material world of nature.

The Ascension of our Lord into heaven completes the mystery of the Incarnation when God became human. When the Holy Spirit descended on the Blessed Virgin Mary and she conceived Jesus, her humanity did not explode. You might say that humanity, created from the beginning in the image and likeness of God, was designed specifically to receive the Holy Spirit. Conversely, from all eternity God was prepared for the ultimate marriage between divinity and humanity which was consummated when Jesus ascended body and soul, humanity and divinity into heaven. The Trinity did not implode when he ascended with his human nature into the Godhead. This says as much about God as it does about us. Christmas celebrates God with us; The Ascension celebrates us with God.

Jesus came to earth to take away our sin, that is, our alienation, not just between humans and God but also between humans with one another and between all creation and our Creator. Through the incarnation and ascension of Jesus, all creation participates in the life of God. As such, we must be as deferential and respectful of creation as we are of the bread and wine that become the body and blood of Christ.

Church law mandates that the bread must be made of pure wheat flour with no yeast, that is, no corruption. The wine, too, must be made from grapes with no preservatives and at least 12 percent alcohol.

If we are so careful to safeguard the purity of the material that, through the words of consecration and the Holy Spirit, will become the Body and Blood of Christ, shouldn't we be equally careful of the elements of the world around us that participate in the reign of God and the new creation?

At the Ascension two angels appeared and asked, "Men of Galilee, why do you stand there staring into the sky?" Yes, Jesus has disappeared from our sight but he has not left us. What's more, we have a lot of work to do here on earth. People deserve to know the Good News of what Jesus has done for us. People are literally dying to know their sins are forgiven. People have a right to hear that Jesus saved the world.

If you truly believe Jesus has saved the world, now is the time for all people of faith and good will to do our part and save the earth.

The oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is only the latest outrage against the environment. Our air is polluted, our rivers contaminated, our oceans dying, our rain forests disappearing. As disciples of Christ who believe God became human on this planet and who consecrated the earth by his presence, we have an obligation to clean up the various messes we humans have made.

We honor God when we take care of the world God made and gave us. We can still save our environment by being mindful of how we live on the earth and of our impact on it. And we can hold individuals as well as companies responsible and accountable for their actions. Let us do our part to clean up our world so one day we, too, as sons and daughters of God, can point with pride to our earth and pray, "Our Father in heaven, look what we can do!"

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What mothers teach us about God (Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year C)

2010-05-09T01:00:00.001-07:00

I had the privilege of studying under Rabbi Asher Finkle when I was a seminarian. Seeing Jesus through Jewish eyes deepened my understanding and love for our religion and for our Lord. Our faith is rooted in the Jewish tradition since Jesus, whom we claim as Lord and Savior of the world, was a devout Jew. Among the other things that come to us through Judaism are belief in one God as creator of all; the goodness of creation, one day of rest in a seven day week; the Old Testament and the Ten Commandments; acknowledging God as a God of justice who loves the poor, and calling God our heavenly Father.

One day Rabbi Finkle explained to us why Jews refer to God as Father and not as Mother. He said a mother’s love is actually stronger than a father’s love because it is instinctive. That is, long before it is born, the baby feels the warmth and protection of its mother while still in the mother’s womb. For nine months the baby hears and feels the comforting beat of the mother’s heart. The mother, too, loves the baby growing within her long before she ever sees her child. Mother and child love each other instinctively before they know each other.

A father’s love, on the other hand, is not instinctive, Rabbi Finkle said. It doesn’t come to us naturally. A father must wait for the child to be born and then he must prove himself through his actions to be a strong, loving, providing and protective man. A father’s love comes only through experience.

The Jews, like most people, do not have an instinctive love of God. Rather, they come to know and believe in God because, throughout their lives and throughout their history, they experienced God as their protector and provider.

Interestingly enough, while we call God our Father because of the Jews and because of Jesus, most of us actually learn about God not so much from our fathers as from our mothers. Mothers not only teach us about religion and prayer, they show us what love, compassion, forgiveness, mercy and sacrifice are all about.

Today throughout the United States we honor all our mothers in a special way. We honor the women who gave us life, when they didn’t have to; who gave us milk from their own bodies; who gave us patient instruction and and maybe sometimes not-so gentle correction.

We also honor the mothers who, as we grew older, drive us absolutely crazy because that’s what mothers do best. We honor the mothers who, as they grow older, fill us with frustration and dread as we realize the day will come when they would no longer be with us.

One of the fondest memories I have of my mother was back in 1970 when I was a college senior at Albany State. It was during the Vietnam war and I had a low draft number. My friend Mike Lynch had enlisted in the army earlier that year and before he himself got killed in the war he sent us a letter saying, “Do whatever you have to do to stay out of this war.”

That meant I had two choices: go to Canada or go to jail. So I asked my parents what I should do. You know what my mother said? “Go to jail.” Do you know why? “Because,” she said, “if you go to Canada I’ll never see you but if you got to jail I can visit you all the time.”

So I did go to jail on March 19, 1970 for blocking the draft board in Albany. I wasn’t behind bars more than four hours when my parents came and paid the fine to get me out. That’s when I learned just how frustrating mothers can be. I ended up serving my country by joining the Peace Corps and teaching English in Korea, a decision which led me to join Maryknoll and resulted in my being here with you today. All this because my mother refused to let me play with toy guns as a child!

All my life I dreaded the day when my mother would no longer be with me. When she died in 2002 at the age of 94, amid the tears I felt a profound peace, and among the sadness a profound gratitude. On the day she died I felt she was actually closer to me and my sister than she had even been before. When she was pregnant with us, she carried us within her body. Now that she had died, we carried her within our hearts.

Sometimes it takes death and absence for the heart to appreciate what love is really all about.

And this is what Jesus prepares us for in today’s gospel. The disciples had already experienced the nightmare of his crucifixion and death. Their hearts were overflowing with inexpressible joy at his resurrection. Now Jesus tells them he is going away again, not to abandon them or leave them as orphans but so they can mature in faith. That emptiness they will feel at his absence will again be only temporary. That emptiness will be filled by the Holy Spirit and then Jesus will seem more present and alive than he ever did before, because now he will be alive in them.

And so on this Mother's Day we give thanks and praise to God the Father for the women through whom we received life and love. We give thanks to Jesus for showing us the way to the Father. And we give thanks today to our mothers for teaching us about life and love and faith and Jesus.

The habit of love (Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year C)

2010-05-01T20:23:00.000-07:00

Many years ago there was a famous French artist by the name of Paul Gustave Dore who lost his passport while traveling in Europe. When he came to the border crossing, he explained his predicament to one of the guards. Giving his name to the official, Dore hoped he would be recognized and allowed to pass. The guard, however, said that many people attempted to cross the border by claiming to be persons they were not. "All right," said the official, "I'll give you a test, and if you pass it I'll allow you to go through." Handing him a pencil and a sheet of paper, he asked the artist to sketch a picture of several peasants standing nearby. Dore did it so quickly and skillfully that the guard was convinced he was indeed the famous artist. His action confirmed his identity.

Christians have always had the problem of how to tell the world who we are. Throughout history and still in some places in the world, uniforms have played a very important role in announcing our identity to the world. Think of the various traditional habits of the various Catholic religious orders which distinguish consecrated people not only from ordinary Christians but also from one another. Franciscans wear brown or gray habits. Benedictines wear black. Dominicans wear white. These days, of course, many religious people don’t wear distinguishing clothing at all. Wearing uniforms or religious habits has become less popular. This brings to mind the words of Shakespeare in Measure for Measure, "The hood does not make a monk." In other words, clothes alone do not make us religious, let alone Christian. Actions speak louder than words and much louder than clothing.

The desire for uniforms, religious habits and badges designed to distinguish believers from non-believers does indeed have its place. We are symbolic beings. We need to express our faith in symbolic ways. Jesus himself wrestled with the question of how to distinguish his followers from the non-believers around them. But his command goes much farther than external habits and uniforms. For Jesus the essential mark of distinction between Christians and non-Christians is not in the way we dress but in the way we live.

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-5).

Love is the Christian identity. Love is the Christian uniform. Love is the Christian habit. If you are wearing the habit of love, you are in. If you are not wearing love as a habit, you are out, no matter how many veils or Roman collars or crucifixes or rosaries you put on.

Jesus wants the world to recognize us as Christians by our deeds of love. We need to witness to people around us. But effective evangelization and witnessing has less to do with how piously we speak and more to do with how faithfully we live.

As you probably have heard, last week a terrible law was passed in the state Arizona giving local law enforcers permission to stop anyone whom they suspect of being in this country illegally and asking for identification and documentation based on how that person looks. What in God’s name does an illegal immigrant look like? Or talk like? Or act like? Do you know which nationality comprises the greatest number of undocumented aliens in this country? The Irish. But they look white. They speak English. They act “normal.” So instead the police will concentrate on brown people who speak with Spanish accents. Many people came to this country from Latin America and other places because their local economies collapsed and they could no longer support their families.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand our borders are broken and the situation has gotten out of hand. Clearly our immigration policies are badly in need of reform. But randomly rounding people up whom police suspect of being here illegally is unjust, unfair, un-American and un-Christian.

How should we, as Christians, as followers of Christ respond in the face of such injustice? We must stand in solidarity with those who suffer persecution. We must pressure our elected leaders to institute comprehensive reform. But above all we must love our neighbors as ourselves, even if they lack a proper visa or green card.

Leviticus 19:33-34 states, “If foreigners dwell in your land and live among you, do not harass them, but treat them like your fellow countrymen. You shall love them as yourselves, for you were once strangers in the land of Egypt.”

My brothers and sisters in Christ, we stand today at the border of the kingdom of God. None of us has a passport. Too many people claim to be Christian but do not put the Gospel into practice. Our daily habits and not a religious habit mark us as true followers of Christ. Let us never hesitate to do what is good and just and right, even if we encounter opposition for only then will America live up to its creed and only then will we as Catholics be true to our calling.

The Good Sanitation Worker (Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year C)

2010-04-25T00:10:00.000-07:00

Today is often referred to as Good Shepherd Sunday, a time to pray for vocations and also for those who currently shepherd the flock. There are some problems with this image, at least for me. First of all, my guess is that most of you have never seen or touched or smelled a real, live sheep, much less a real shepherd. Our holy cards have sanitized what shepherds were really like.

In Jesus’ time, shepherds were looked down upon. They performed an essential task for the community, but their job made them highly unpopular. They smelled funny. They were uneducated and ill-mannered. Their job did not allow them the luxury of keeping the Sabbath and therefore, in addition to being unwashed, they were ritually unclean.

On the other hand, they were strong, dedicated and brave. They could easily flatten a wolf. They were tireless in their search for lost sheep. They acted as living gatekeepers, literally lying down at the entrance to the sheep pen at night so no sheep could escape and no wolf get in. My main objection to the image of shepherd, however, is not to how bad a shepherd smells but what his ultimate goal is: he protects the sheep until he can fleece them. Or worse.

I think a more appropriate image would be to think of Jesus as the Good Sanitation Worker. Think about it. Like shepherds in years past, the sanitation worker performs an essential function for our society. Nevertheless, most people look down on garbage collectors because, like shepherds, they also smell funny. But think of what a mess we would have if we had no sanitation workers.

Jesus, our good sanitation worker, takes away our spiritual garbage. But best of all, he helps us recycle. He looks at what is broken and worn out in our lives and shows us ways to repair and renew ourselves and our relationships.

Today’s priests follow in Jesus’ footsteps, more as spiritual sanitation workers than as shepherds, even though the word “pastor” originally meant shepherd. Through confession and the sacrament of reconciliation, priests help us unburden our souls of the garbage we have collected over time. Through counseling they help us recycle our lives.

These days, because of the scandals that continue to rock the Church, the priesthood has probably fallen lower in many people’s eyes even than sanitation workers. Power, privilege and prestige no longer mark the priesthood. Good. The only thing worse than a priest shortage would be for young men to want to become priests for the wrong reasons.

But the People of God still need men of courage, humility and sacrifice willing to take on the essential role of helping Christ clean up his church. We need good, Catholic parents who, though mindful of the faults of too many churchmen, are still proud to be known as Catholics and are willing to encourage their sons and daughters to enter religious life.

With fewer men entering the priesthood, is it any wonder the garbage is starting to pile up? Yet despite all its current problems, despite all its past sins, the Roman Catholic faith is still capable of great holiness and goodness and has the potential to once again bring the light of Christ to our wounded and broken world in dire need of healing, justice, peace, hope and love.

Perhaps as you listen to me this morning, some of you young people feel the stirrings of the Holy Spirit calling you to follow Christ by becoming a spiritual sanitation worker. We need you. We are counting on you. With you, the Church may once again become a shining example of sacred service to the Gospel of Christ and the Reign of God. Without you, what was once beautiful about Catholicism will be hidden by so much trash.

Peter's Penance (Third Sunday of Easter, Year C)

2010-04-18T01:00:00.000-07:00

Poor Peter. What a sorry excuse for a disciple. He was not only a liar, denying Jesus three times, he was also a coward, running away when Jesus needed him most. No wonder when he heard the news Jesus had risen from the dead, his heart sank. He knew he was not worthy to be the prince of apostles, much less the first pope. So after the joy of that first Easter faded, he feared there was no place for him in the kingdom of God. He went back to the only thing he really knew how to do. He went fishing.

The trouble is, he wasn’t even good at that any more. He and his companions caught nothing. When Jesus again appeared to them, poor Peter was so confused he actually put his clothes on and then jumped into the water. That man was a mess.

Now Peter’s healing begins. He had denied knowing the Lord three times, so three times Jesus asks him to confess his love. Each time, Jesus tells him “Feed my sheep.” Jesus calls him by his original name: Simon, son of John. This is significant. Perhaps Jesus concedes Peter has forfeited the right to be called the “Rock,” since clearly his faith had been so shaky it would have made a poor foundation upon which to build a church.

Instead, Jesus wants him to feed the sheep with what Peter had personally experienced following his unspeakable sin: unconditional forgiveness. This wasn’t something he read about in a book. He could now preach to the world about forgiveness because he, the least worthy to be an apostle, had received forgiveness. In many ways, Peter’s sin was worse than Judas’s. If Judas isn’t a saint it’s not because he betrayed our Lord but because he refused the Lord’s forgiveness and, instead, committed suicide. Peter, for his part, when he realized what he had done, broke down in tears. Tears of repentance.

It is the forgiveness Peter received that feeds us here today. If he can be forgiven, than so can we. Our sins pale by comparison.

These days, as you know, our Holy Father, Pope Benedict, the successor of St. Peter, must also be feeling unworthy. He probably wishes he too can just forget about the whole mess and go fishing. No doubt his reputation and even his authority have been seriously damaged by recent revelations. Last week he called for repentance in the Church. This can only be accomplished in a spirit of humility. It does no good to blame the press, or blame this group or that group for problems you yourself created.

But if the Holy Father, whose past mistakes have been so painfully exposed, puts on the clothing of humility and jumps into the waters of sincere repentance, I for one am more than ready to join him. Yes, priests have committed unspeakable sins in the past; yes bishops, out of misplaced loyalty and shocking incompetence, have brought scandal and confusion to the People of God. But today the Risen Lord stands before each of them as he stood before Peter and asks, “Do you love me more than these? If so, then feed my sheep—from your humility, not from your arrogance; from your honesty, not from your belligerence; from your repentance, not from your pride.”

Do this and the world, which seems to take delight in the Church’s disgrace, will stand in awe at the Church’s inevitable resurrection.

Jesus’ Easter gift of peace (Divine Mercy Sunday, Year C)

2010-04-11T01:00:00.000-07:00

After Mass one Sunday, a man said to the priest, “You know, Father, I’ve been attending Mass for many years now and you always talk about the same old thing, ‘Christ is born’ or ‘Jesus is risen.’” The priest didn’t recognize the man and asked him when he normally attended Mass. He replied, “I come faithfully every Christmas and every Easter.”

In today’s gospel, Thomas is like that man. He was away from the gathering of believers that Sunday evening when the Risen Lord appeared to them. He did not believe their testimony. He wanted to see and touch the wounds of Christ for himself. He wanted physical proof.

The Risen Lord turns Thomas’s initial doubt into the great confession of faith, “My Lord and my God!”

The name Thomas means twin, yet the gospel makes no mention of who his twin is. I think it’s all of us. We are very much like Thomas. We too often absent ourselves from gathering with the disciples and then wonder why our faith is shaky and doubt whether Christ is really, truly risen from the dead.

Why is this important? Because unless we gather with other believers and unless we experience the presence of Christ in our midst, we will not receive the divine gift of the Risen Lord: the peace of Christ.

What is this peace that Christ gives us? It doesn’t mean we’ll have no difficulties. It doesn’t mean we’ll experience no dangers. It doesn’t even mean we live lives free of controversy or confusion. It means that as we live our daily lives of faith in an increasingly hostile world, that despite all opposition, that despite all kinds of problems, failures and setbacks, that even though our world may be collapsing all around us, our hearts are calm, our spirits remain strong, our minds abide in peace because the risen Lord is with us and within us.

After receiving the peace of Christ, the apostles experienced increasing opposition and persecution because they dared proclaim Christ crucified and risen. But it was the peace of Christ that sustained them when they were cursed, beaten, arrested and even killed. It didn’t matter how much the world raged against them. They knew the battle was already over, the war was already won, the victory already assured.

May each of you experience that profound peace today and every day. It is the peace the world cannot give. It is not the peace that comes from humiliating, defeating and destroying our enemies, but rather it comes from our refusal to think and act like our enemies, and to destroy them—not by killing them—but simply by recognizing them as fellow sinners in need of the same mercy, forgiveness and peace of Christ, as are we all.

May the peace of Christ take you from confusion to conviction, from doubt to determination, and from fear to faith.

Empty tomb vs. Overflowing heart (Easter, Year C)

2010-04-03T20:00:00.000-07:00

Today we stand at the entrance of the empty tomb and must decide for ourselves what it all means. Was Jesus’ body stolen? Was it perhaps misplaced in a different tomb and they forgot where they had buried him? Or did he, in fact and in truth, rise from the dead? Physically, with a body?

Our faith and our life depend on what we believe. Notice the apostles and the first persons to go to the tomb, notably Mary Magdalene, had thought the worst. What changed her sorrow to joy and her despair to hope wasn’t the empty tomb but a personal encounter with the Risen Lord.

For her especially, the death and resurrection of Jesus were not about theology but about a personal relationship. “Messiah”, “Savior” and “Son of God” did not mean as much to her as did the word “friend.” She had lost the person dearest to her heart and she mourned his death and had been devastated when his body was missing from the tomb.

Tears must have blurred her vision and sorrow her judgment when she at first mistook Jesus for the gardener. But when she heard her name spoken as only the way a lover can, the veil was lifted and she recognized the Lord. We cannot even begin to imagine her joy unless we think how wonderful it will be on that day when we meet our deceased family and friends again after our own resurrection from the dead. Our hearts could not contain such joy; it would overflow to everyone around us.

Meanwhile, back in Jerusalem, the brave disciples were huddled together behind locked doors wondering when the Romans would come for them. They had no time for Mary Magdalene’s hysterical nonsense that Jesus was risen. (What do women know about these things any way?) But just to be safe. Peter and John went to check things out.

For many years now, but especially this past Holy Week, the Catholic Church has walked its own Way of the Cross. To be sure and to be honest, we are more like the two thieves crucified with our Lord than we are like the Lord himself. He was innocent while we suffer the consequences of our sins. We can be like the Bad Thief who thought only of saving himself, overlooking the evil deeds that got him nailed to a cross; or we could in all humility be like the Good Thief and take responsibility for our actions and only hope Jesus remembers us when he comes into his kingdom.

Maybe the Church still has to die in order to rise. Maybe we need to give up more power in order to once again speak with authority. Maybe we need to stop letting politics cloud our vision so we might more clearly see with the eyes of faith. Maybe we need to actually put our faith in the Risen Lord and stop placing our hope in the remnants and trappings of the Roman Empire.

In order to survive, much less change, the Church needs not only to believe in and proclaim the resurrection of Jesus, we need to personally encounter the Risen Lord.

Until we do, all our proclamations and beliefs will be hollow echoes in an empty tomb.

Our vulnerable God (Good Friday, Year C)

2010-04-02T18:26:00.000-07:00

Our small sacrifices of Lent bring us to this day. I gave up a whole slew of things for Lent (not the least being Facebook!), not because these are in any way harmful but because, over time, they had insidiously become mindless habits and put my life on automatic pilot.

I realized these past 40 days how much time I spent playing Sudoku, playing Bejeweled, drinking coffee or scarfing down desserts. I realized, too, I could get along quite nicely without these supports.

Today, Good Friday, the Church ritually takes away the last, great, seemingly irreplaceable support to our happiness and stability: Jesus himself.

A Good Friday liturgy is unlike any other in the year. There is no Mass. Rather, the people gather around 3 p.m. and the priest and deacon enter in silence. They prostrate themselves on the ground in front of a bare altar and an empty tabernacle. The emptiness taunts us. Jesus is gone.

The Passion (suffering) of Jesus Christ is solemnly chanted with no frills. At the point where Jesus breathes his last, all fall on their knees in silent mourning for a man who died on a cross 2,000 years ago.

Then a crucifix is held high for the people to come forward to venerate. Something visceral takes place as we worship a God so powerfully weak that he died. Human history has courted various gods over the millennia: Horus, Vishnu, Woden, Thor and Zeus, to name a few. All were powerful in their own way. But only one God was vulnerable and came to be with us in our weakness.

This liturgy does not end; it stops. The celebrants walk off with no song or music. The altar is stripped and we are taunted again by a small glimpse of what the disciples must have felt that Passover evening in Jerusalem.

Paradoxically, our omnipotent God has become infinitely more approachable, lovable and adorable (in the original meaning of the word!) precisely because God has become so vulnerable. This, in turn, reopens an old wound in our hearts and souls: life without Jesus.

Good Friday haunts us with the specter of our losing God.

Throughout history, different peoples have suffered the incomparable loss of all that they had once held dear. The Israelites certainly felt this when the Babylonians invaded Israel and destroyed their Temple. They went through this nightmare again in 70 A.D. when the Romans destroyed the second Temple and dispersed the Jews around the empire.

Imagine how we Catholics would feel if St. Peter's Basilica were destroyed. Does our faith depend on a building, even one as majestic and historical and beautiful as the Vatican? Or the papacy? Would our faith continue if we were suddenly deprived of these? But that's the emptiness Good Friday would have us consider.

In the void that is Good Friday we are forced to get our priorities straight. Before we can be filled with the joy that is Easter, we need to contemplate our utter emptiness in union with him who emptied himself for us.

A New Commandment (Holy Thursday, Year C)

2010-04-01T09:09:00.000-07:00

FAR AND AWAY the best homily I ever heard on Holy Thursday was given by my good friend, Maryknoll Father John McAuley, currently serving in China. With unabashed pride (and very rare humility), I will attempt to recapture the essence of his talk for us to reflect upon this Holy Thursday.

It was during Holy Week in 2002 in the midst of the clergy abuse scandal that John delivered this homily at our retirement home in Los Atos, California, where we were holding a Vocations Retreat. (This in itself was no easy task, with the scandals coming out almost on a daily basis. I mean, really, how do you diplomatically say, "Welcome aboard the Titanic!"?)

As we gathered for this most ancient of Catholic rituals, John pointed out that Holy Thursday was more than a solemn celebration of the institution of the Eucharist and the priesthood, which it is. On the night before he died, Jesus and the apostles celebrated the Last Supper at a time of gut-wrenching disintegration. Everything they held dear was falling apart around them. Their future looked bleak. And their situation was about to get nightmarishly worse.

Yet in the midst of this time of uncertainty, fear and confusion, Jesus took bread and gave God thanks and praise. He blessed and broke the bread and asked us to share it in his name. And whenever we did this, he would be present to us: especially in the midst of our darkest moments of doubt, disillusionment and danger.

Eight years have passed since John gave this homily. Alas, the clouds of scandal have not dispersed nor the anger and confusion dissipated. Oh, the Vatican can react with righteous indignation at the secular press and media, no doubt stoked by enemies of the Church, intentionally dragging up and distorting old cases which may or may not have had the complicity of then Cardinal Ratzinger. IMHO this misses the point entirely.

In the public mind (both of Catholics and the wider society), the Church has not done adequate penance for its sins. Penance is more than just public apologies; penance is a good faith effort to make amends for the harm caused by our sins, and this cannot be satifised with mere dollar signs.

At a retreat later that same year, 2002, Father Richard Rohr said, "A problem cannot be solved by the same mentality that caused it." There it is in a nutshell.

Unless we (and I'm including all the clergy and hierarchy in this) rend our hearts and not just our garments, unless we convert our way of thinking, unless we put on the very mind of Christ, this situation may never go away, much less be resolved.

How do we celebrate Maundy Thursday? By the Washing of Feet. Jesus takes the position of a servant and commands us to do the same. This is not fulfilled by ceremoniously re-enacting some ritual once a year, and especially not by the pope washing the feet exclusively of priests and seminarians (God forbid he should wash the feet of women or of the victims themselves!) This gives the exact opposite impression Jesus was trying to make, and only serves to re-enforce the public perception of the Church as an "old boys club."

Jesus gives us a new commandment ("Mandatum" in Latin, hence "Maundy" Thursday via Old English). "Love one another, as I have loved you" (John 13:34). But if we clerical types limit this just to taking care of fellow priests in the ordained priesthood, our Church is doomed.

Oh would that the Holy Father felt for the victims as deeply as he does for the institutional Church! Would that he and every bishop and every priest in every parish around the world wash the feet of all the people whom we have offended by our arrogance, insensitivity, callousness and pride.

Granted it would take more than a few minutes during a once-a-year ritual, so this should be our attitude throughout the year. This would go a long way of not simply healing the Church of our self-inflicted wounds, but would, as much as the Eucharist itself, reveal the abiding presence of our Lord Jesus Christ, and that woud be Good News indeed.

No king but Caesar (Palm Sunday, Year C)

2010-03-26T10:25:00.000-07:00

Backwash from the on-going Catholic clergy sex abuse scandal has finally swamped the papal slippers. According to very disturbing reports in the New York Times, then Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger stopped an official ecclesial investigation into the abuse of 200 children, some of whom were deaf, by a priest in Wisconsin. The Vatican’s response to this latest revelation by a secular newspaper is to cry foul and portray itself as the victim of a smear campaign. This is almost as disturbing as the allegation itself.

When will the Church (excuse me, the hierarchy) learn? Not anytime soon, apparently.

Sr. Jeannine Gramick is a good friend of mine. For many years she ministered to the lesbian, gay and bisexual subcommunity of the Catholic church. As you might expect, her work soon attracted the attention of the Vatican. When the investigators could find nothing in her writings or public talks that openly conflicted with or contradicted Church teaching, a bishop asked what she believed in her heart of hearts. In other words, this churchman wanted her to betray her conscience.

Long story short, she was silenced by the Vatican and prohibited from doing her important ministry. Sadly, before this happened, Sister Jeannine providentially found herself a passenger on the same plane with none other than Cardinal Ratzinger. She introduced herself and the two talked at length. She expressed her sincere belief that modern psychology and insights into human sexuality were compatible with the gospels. She voiced the pain of so many gays and lesbians at their sense of abandonment by the Church they had loved. Nothing seemed to matter to the Cardinal except “saving the Church from scandal.”

And so now, the proverbial chickens have indeed come home to roost. The scandal the Churchmen had so vigorously tried to avoid by silence has now engulfed the Vatican itself. How can the pope extricate himself from this mess of his own making?

The answer is in today’s solemn commemoration of the Lord’s Passion. It starts with Jesus’ “triumphal” entrance into Jerusalem, not on a white horse or in a Roman chariot, but on a lowly donkey. It was triumphant because the people rejoiced when the Messiah appeared as their servant.

Religious leaders of that day wanted to save their institution from scandal and discord, even if it meant turning Jesus over to the Romans for execution.

Unlike the religious leaders of his (and our) time, Jesus allowed himself to be sacrificed for the sake of the truth, he didn’t crucify the truth to save himself.

Before that he washed his disciples feet and asked that they wash one another’s feet. This was to be as much a Eucharistic sign of his presence as the Breaking of Bread. Last of all he gave his life.

Imagine if the Pope were to take upon himself the full responsibility for the decades of abuses and cover-ups. Imagine if he were to wash the feet, not of other clerics but of the victims. Imagine if he were then to resign the papacy and dedicate the rest of his life to prayer and penance.

Maybe then the world would truly see that this Church does, in fact, follow the example and teachings of Jesus. Alas, this will not happen. And the words and actions coming out of the Vatican inadvertently echo the claims of the religious leaders at the time of Christ” “We have no king but Caesar.”

Selective Scripture (5th Sunday of Lent, Year C)

2010-03-21T01:00:00.000-07:00

In a few hours, the U.S. House of Representatives will vote on whether or not to extend health care to 34 million Americans. There are many reasons to oppose this bill and there are many reasons to support it. But one of the dumbest arguments I have ever heard during the 14 months of sometimes heated and emotional debate, is that voting on this health care bill on the Sabbath is an affront to God.

I have problems with this on many levels. First of all, it’s not the Sabbath. Saturday is the Sabbath. Secondly, Jesus himself healed on the Sabbath, and the self-righteous, religious hypocrites of his day complained that this, too, was an affront to God. But most of all, I have problems when people try to cloak their meanness, their cruelty, their stupidity and their bigotry in the trappings of religion.

It’s funny, those same people who quote the Bible to denounce health care don’t ever quote that same Bible when it tells us not to mistreat the aliens and foreigners in our midst but to treat them as our fellow countrymen. Leviticus 19:33~34.

I have trouble when people use the Holy Bible to make life miserable for others. I have trouble when people suggest that anyone who opposes them and their twisted way of thinking must be enemies of religion and of God.

This was surely the way the men were thinking in today’s gospel who tried to trap Jesus with his own words and reputation for compassion. Jesus was known to be a healer and miracle worker. The problem was, he was also going around spreading God’s forgiveness to the worst possible sinners. Tax collectors and prostitutes were flocking to him.

So they laid what seemed the perfect trap for him. They caught a woman in the very act of committing adultery and forced her to stand there in shame in the middle of the crowd, but it was in fact Jesus whom they were putting on trial. The law is clear: Leviticus 20:10 “the adulterer and the adulteress shall be put to death.” (If we still followed this practice today, we would soon run out of politicians, movie stars and golfers.)

So if Jesus said, “You are correct. That’s the law. Stone her,” then all the common people who had put their hope in Jesus would realize he’s just like the rest of the religions leaders. The so-called hero of the poor and the oppressed and of sinners would be exposed as a fake.

But if Jesus said, “No, you must spare this woman’s life,” then the Pharisees would exclaim “Aha! See? He puts himself above the law of God. He too deserves to be stoned to death!”

It was indeed the perfect trap, except Jesus was the perfect escape artist. The Law is clear. We all agree adulterers must be put to death. Now, who among you is qualified to execute this woman? Who among you has never committed a sin worthy of death?

Ever check your horoscope? Lev. 20:27 “Any man or woman who is a fortune teller shall be stoned to death.”

Leviticus 20:9 “Anyone who curses his father or mother shall be put to death.”

So Jesus challenges the woman’s accusers with the very Law by which they sought to stone her. And they dropped their stones and left one by one, beginning with the eldest? Why the eldest first? Because the longer you live the more sins you commit. The more you sin, the more you stand in need of God’s mercy.

Then there's that curious sentence in today’s gospel, about how Jesus bent over and wrote with his finger on the ground. Scripture scholars and theologians have speculated for centuries on just what did Jesus write. No one knows, but I have my theories.

I think he may have written “Where is the man?”

After all, they claimed to have caught her in the act of adultery, so where is the man with whom she committed adultery? You can’t commit adultery by yourself. Perhaps he was there in the crowd of her accusers.

The only man there who had the authority to condemn her, the only man there without sin was Jesus. And he refused to condemn her.

So who are we to accuse and judge and condemn one another?

Jesus risked his reputation and life to come to the defense of this sinner. One week from today he will stand accused and judged and condemned, but no one will come to his defense.

Let us approach these coming holy days more with gratitude than with guilt. We stood condemned and Jesus died in our place. We have been spared from punishment for our sins and given a chance to live new lives.

Let us resolve to live for him who died for us. Let us use the Scriptures to set people free.

Scandalous love (Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year C)

2010-03-14T06:00:00.000-07:00

The parable of the Prodigal Son is about relationships, not just between the father and his two sons, but more importantly, between the two brothers.

Prodigal means “extravagant” or “wasteful” to the point of being scandalous. There is no doubt the actions of the younger one are scandalous, from the moment he basically says he can’t wait for his father to die, so he asks for his inheritance up front.

I cannot imagine any son, so matter how disrespectful, actually going up to his father and saying, “Hey Dad, you know, you’re pretty healthy for an old guy. You could linger on for years and years, God willing. I’m young and, well, you know, I could really use that money now, so if you don’t mind…”

But the actions of the father are even more extravagant and scandalous. He willingly gives in to the outrageous request of his impertinent son.

The younger son then goes on a binge of drinking, partying and prostitutes, squandering all his wealth until an economic downturn left him no choice but to take a job feeding pigs. For a kosher Jew, nothing could be more degrading. He is so used to living a life of luxury he doesn’t even have the initiative to help himself to the pig feed.

He decides to return to his father’s house, not because he feels sorry, not because he feels ashamed or guilty, but because his is hungry. He even memorizes a little speech, recognizing he has forfeited any right to be treated as a son but realizing as a servant at least he will be fed.

There is nothing nice about this son. He is suffering the consequence of his wanton ways. Our sense of justice is glad he has fallen on hard times and we can hardly wait till the father gives him a good, swift kick in the pants. We want him to be punished.

Instead, the father runs out to greet his son with hugs and kisses. Not a day went by when he didn’t scan the horizon looking for his son’s return. He has no patience for his son’s rehearsed apology. He orders the best treatment for this undeserving, poor excuse for a son.

However it is the action and attitude of the so-called loyal son that is the main point of this parable. He has said nothing till now; happy his annoying sibling is out of the picture. Reports of his younger brother’s scandalous living assured him he is now the sole heir to the father’s fortune. All he has to do is be a good boy, keep his mouth shut and bide his time. When his father dies, all this wealth will be his.

Now it’s the older brother’s turn to be scandalized, not just by his bratty brother’s return, but also by his father’s inexplicable generosity. Saying that all these years he “slaved” for his father betrays the attitude, not of a filial son but of a resentful and reluctant servant. I mean really, WTH? His father is being totally unfair, unjust and—most annoyingly—nonjudgmental.

Jesus directs this parable at the “good boys”— self-righteous scribes and Pharisees who grumbled about Jesus offering God’s forgiveness to sinners and tax collectors.

After all, if God is going to be gracious to sinners, why bother keeping all these commandments (all 613 of them!)?

Today, does God's mercy toward sinners scandalize us?

I mean, if God is going to bless atheists, why bother being Catholic?

If God accepts same-sex couples and their children, why send our children to Catholic schools?

If God loves alcoholics, drug addicts, gamblers, adulterers, and all sinners as much as he loves us “holy” people, why do we come to Sunday Mass, say the Rosary and and read the Bible?

Why? Not to win God’s favor or forgiveness, but to show God our gratitude. If God shows mercy to sinners, then God will show mercy to us.

This wonderful drama of the Prodigal Son confronts us with the scandal of God’s unconditional and boundless mercy. The only question left to answer is: which son are you?

There but for God’s grace (Third Sunday of Lent, Year C)

2010-03-07T01:00:00.000-08:00

Earthquake in Haiti, earthquake in Chile, earthquake in Taiwan, earthquake in Indonesia. Chances are by the time this posts yet another country will suffer an earthquake. What are we to make of all this?

Blogs offer no end of opinions, from the sterile scientific to the bizarrely biblical. According to the U.S. Geological Society, there are thousands of earthquakes everyday and the number of major quakes of 6.0 or larger has been consistent over the past hundred years. Fundamentalists insist we are in the End Days and the Rapture is at hand.

What are we, supposedly level-headed and intelligent Christians, to make of these disasters? Today’s gospel offers insight. Pontius Pilate had massacred some worshipers in the Temple, mingling their blood with their sacrifice. People were curious what Jesus had to say about this. Rather than play their game, Jesus ups the ante. Those massacred people were no greater sinners than others in Galilee. Jesus then recounts a disaster in Siloam where a tower collapsed killing 18 victims. Those people were no more deserving of death than all in Jerusalem.

Jesus turns the tables on them—and us—saying worse things will happen unless we repent. But accidents and misfortunes are not necessarily the punishment for sin. Rather than seek consolation in learning why some unfortunate people died in such a horrible way, we should look upon all tragic deaths—both natural and manmade—as a wake-up call. We need to examine our own lives and repent, that is, remove from our thoughts, words and deeds everything that does not give God glory.

We exist in a world of unsettling freedom. Accidents happen all the time. A split second may be the difference between injury and death or escaping without any harm. A tree falls. It may injure passers-by or spare all or, more mysteriously, kill one person by not another.

Often we have little or no control over things that happen around us—or to us—but we can be aware of our attitudes and actions. Not all suffer the consequences of their actions. Not all smokers get lung cancer and not all who get lung cancer smoke. Life is not fair. We cannot control accidents, the weather or people intent on harming us. We can and should reflect on how we live each day.

I remember when I first met Father Dennis Dunne, who died a few years ago. In the 1970s Dennis had been a Peace Corps volunteer, like myself. He had been diagnosed with cancer and given less than six months to live. He was undergoing chemotherapy. He came to Maryknoll to take a break from his treatment and when we first met he was clearly close to death. We prayed for him and with him.

Two weeks later after returning home he went for surgery and the doctors were amazed. None of his six tumors could be found. He wrote me a letter (this was way before email and texting!) in which he reflected on passing the six-month mark during which he was supposed to have died. “From that date on,” he wrote, “I consider each day a bonus, a gift.”

What did he do with the extra time he was given? Among other things, he became a priest. He lived another 35 years, serving God, the Church and his brothers and sisters in overseas mission.

His words "Each day is a bonus, a gift" moved me to live more purposefully and with gratitude to God for each new day of life. But I had my own close call with death in 1983. On September 1, I was supposed to be aboard Korean Air Line Flight 007, which was shot down by the Soviet Union killing all 269 passengers and crew. A few hours before departure I had switched my reservation; I didn’t want to travel 18 hours in the dark, so I transferred to a Northwest flight that left in the morning. That one decision saved my life.

Why did those people die? Why did I live? I do not know. Have I lived every single moment since then in prayer, praising God and doing only good? Hardly. Have I lived a totally productive life? Yeah, right. But whenever I learn of other's misfortune, I cannot help but think, "There but for the grace of God go I."

Each day God has to shake me from my complacency. Each day I need to respond to God’s on-going call to conversion. The earth will continue to shake. People will continue to die. None of us has control over when and how we will die. It is enough to make a good-faith effort on how well and fully we will live.

We win! (Second Week of Lent, Year C)

2010-02-28T03:10:00.000-08:00

Less than two months after a killer earthquake snuffed out more than 250,000 lives in Haiti and left an already impoverished country in ruin, yesterday we receive news of yet another even larger quake shattering buildings and claiming lives in Chile. The death toll is sure to rise as a tsunami threatens low-lying regions around the Pacific.

Earthquakes and tsunamis do more than shake the earth; they can also shake our faith. Who will be next? When will the destruction end? Why does God allow these things to happen, in Catholic countries no less?

When I lived in Masan in the early 1980s, we had a mild earthquake, just strong enough to rattle the dishes and shake the bookcase. It was a little frightening and also a faith-filled experience. After all, when the ground beneath your feet starts moving, where do you run? Where can you hide? It’s times like these that either break or strengthen your faith.

Scripture continually calls us to trust in the Lord, but how do you know if you are really trusting in God and not just in your own abilities to survive? You will never know if you really believe in God until your faith is tested. True faith assures you no matter how dark the night becomes or how deadly the way, God will see you safely through every danger and difficulty.

Why? Because we are the reason Jesus came to earth. We are the reason Jesus died on the cross. We are the reason he rose again from the dead. Having paid so great a price for us, God will not easily allow us to be lost, abandoned or forgotten.

Our first reading reminds us, in very gruesome detail, of the covenant between God and Abram through which God made the Jewish people his own. A covenant is a holy contract sealed in blood. In this reading it is the blood of cows and sheep and pigeons. Throughout their history the Jews never forgot that, despite terrible persecutions, they were chosen by God. You could deprive them of liberty, exile them, steal their property, even take their lives, but one thing you could never take from them: their identity. They always know who they are. And they act accordingly.

How many of us have that same conviction? How many of us know who we really are?

We are the new People of God, also sealed in a sacred covenant, this time not in the blood of animals, but in the blood of the only begotten Son of God. We too are the spiritual descendants of Abraham and Sarah, more numerous than the stars of the skies and the sands of the sea.

This knowledge of who we are and of the price paid for our salvation should influence how we behave and what we say and the way we live in the world. We should be influencing society and not the other way around.

St. Paul reminds us that no matter where we live on earth we are citizens of heaven. We should act accordingly.

We have entered into the holy season of Lent to remind ourselves we have on earth no lasting city and to remind us who we are. These forty days give us time to examine just how much society controls or influences our behavior. If you have not yet given up anything for Lent, or have already broken your Lenten sacrifices, so what? Start again today. It’s never to late to renew your citizenship.

Today the people of Chile are being tested. Tomorrow someone else will be. But eventually it will be our turn. That’s life. Now is the time to prepare.

And so on this second Sunday of Lent we read of the Transfiguration of Jesus. Last Sunday’s gospel emphasized Jesus’ humanity. Today we get a glimpse of his divinity. A spark of that glory will remain to get the disciples through the terrible days that lie ahead, when the Son of God, Jesus the Messiah, will be betrayed, arrested, tortured and nailed to a cross to die, executed like a common criminal.

And this glimpse of Christ’s glory also gives us hope in our hour of darkness. It is as if we are all part of a great cosmic story. We each have our personal role to play and our own lines to speak. The story of the Transfiguration at the beginning of Lent allows us for a moment to skip to the end of the story and to take a peek. It reassures us no matter what difficulties or dangers we face today, if we remain faithful, in the end, we win.

The devil can wait...and does! (First Sunday of Lent, Year C)

2010-02-21T00:00:00.000-08:00

This confrontation between a very hungry Jesus and a very treacherous devil is one of the most dramatic scenes in the Bible. It is interesting to note how the Holy Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness precisely so he could be tempted by the devil.

The first temptation is straight forward. Jesus in hungry; all he need do is change a stone into bread. Simple enough. Who would begrudge him this? (And who would know?) Had Jesus not heard the voice from heaven acknowledging him as God’s son? Surely he had the power. But the other demon Jesus struggled with is in answering WHY Jesus had this power? And more importantly, for WHOM?

This power was for others, especially sinners, and not for himself.

Speaking of power, the devil’s next temptation was to show Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and their glory: Egypt, India, China, Korea, the Aztec, perhaps even the power of later empires like Spain, Portugal, England and even the United States. All these the devil promises to give Jesus---and this is the interesting part---because the devil says they all belong to him. An objective look at history shows this as no surprise. Every single empire and kingdom on earth was built on the backs of slaves and survived by crushing all adversaries.

But this was not to be Jesus’ way. His kingdom was to be of free men and women who willingly left all to follow him. He will sooner lay down his own life rather than kill another. In addition, the price the devil asks is too great: “Bow down and worship me.” Idolatry ultimately undermines every kingdom and country on earth, whether it take the form of materialism, money or greed.

For the third temptation, the devil challenges Jesus to jump off the roof of the Temple to prove once and for all he is the Messiah. That would certainly convince people watching down below, especially the chief priests, It would certainly save Jesus from a lot of agony. Literally. And note that the devil himself quotes Scripture! Especially when he wants to distort its meaning and manipulate others. His should serve as a warning when we are too impressed by the way some people can quote the Bible chapter and verse. Very impressive. But what are they quoting it for, to liberate people or enslave them? To control others or free them?

Jesus tells the devil to get lost, knowing that in a few years he would mount the heights of Calvary and from there, the greatest point of weakness he would reveal his greatest power. The last line is telling. The devl departs to await another opportunity.

Jesus’ temptations are not over, just interrupted. On the cross he will be tempted one last time in almost the same words, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross!”
Jesus reveals the greatest power comes from submitting to the will of God, no matter how painful this may be. He faced temptations every day, as now do we. But let us never hesitate to call on him who alone has the power to save us and who gave his life to empower us all.

Fasting for life (Friday after Ash Wednesday)

2010-02-19T11:43:00.000-08:00

The holy season of Lent encourages us to cultivate a spirit of detachment and mindfulness. Of course, not just any mindfulness and not just any detachment. If you’re like me, you have plenty of mindfulness. Every morning I wake up mindful of the pains in my knee or the ache in my back or the constant ringing in my ears. I’m so mindful of my own problems I become detached all right, detached from our community life and often detached from life itself.

But Lent calls us to be detached from the things of this world in order to become mindful of the needs of our neighbors and the presence of God in this world and in our lives.

Giving things up for Lent has fallen out of favor in recent decades. But fasting and abstinence still have their place. We might be excused due to our age from traditional fasting from meals. But Isaiah shows us the true fasting pleasing to God: to break unjust fetters and share our bread with the hungry and shelter the homeless. There is no statute of limitations on acts of charity.

Giving things up for Lent, in my opinion, has to go beyond giving up harmful things: smoking or drinking or eating too much. Giving up these things have their place and Lord knows I can certainly stand to shed a pound or two---or twenty.

But Lent calls us to sacrifice other things, things that eat up our time and fill our mind. Turning the television or radio on as soon as I wake up in the morning, drinking countless cups of coffee, surfing the internet at every opportunity, reading newspapers and periodicals from morning till night, doing crossword puzzles, Sudoku or jigsaw puzzles might be OK and good in themselves, but done habitually they slowly, insidiously, numb me to life and therefore rob me of life itself.

It’s not the action so much as the routine I need to give up. I can go through my entire day on automatic pilot without so much as a conscious thought as to the flavor, smell or texture of the food I am eating, the aroma of the coffee, the smell of the freshly fallen snow, the coolness of the air on my face, much less the concerns of my fellow Maryknollers here in this house.

This holy season of Lent calls us to decide, not how we will spend the rest of our lives or not even these Forty Days but rather how we will live fully today, which is the only time any of us have in which to live. Each sacrifice, each penance becomes a reminder of how temporary our life is on this earth. Each food or beverage given up makes us mindful of the countless millions around the world for whom fasting is not a choice. And the Eucharist we are about to receive gives us all the strength, courage and grace we need to do something about the injustices in our world.

Above all, this holy season of Lent invites us, through fasting, through abstinence, through prayer and through sacrifice, to be ever mindful of each precious moment of life, the needs of our neighbors and the presence, the love, the mercy of God that surround us.

Marked for death (Ash Wednesday 2010)

2010-02-17T04:21:00.000-08:00

As an overly pious high school student, I made it a point each year to go to the morning Mass on Ash Wednesday, just so's I could sport the Catholicity smeared on my forehead all day long. To be sure, this was partly in response to a few not-so-subtle anti-Catholic teachers who said things back then that would surely bring down a lawsuit (if not the wrath of God) if uttered publicly in a classroom today.

Seeing my fellow Catholics so smeared was sobering. The priest had marked us all for death with the words, "Remember man that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return." It was bad enough coming to terms with my own mortality; I didn't want to think about theirs as well.

I don't much care for the diluted formula IMHO used by some of my priestly colleagues still trapped, it seems, in the 1970s: "Repent and believe the Good News."

Oh, it's a noble enough message. But it doesn't say Lent particularly, as we can and should repent and believe all year long. And it certainly avoids any suggestion of death.

Time was when people fixated on the "Last Things": Death, Judgment, Heaven, Hell.

Nowadays forget the last three things, it's all we can do just to bring up the idea that we are not here on earth permanently.

But ashes on our forehead are a wake-up call, literally. Our fasting and abstaining from meat today, our abstinance every Friday, and our personal sacrifices during Lent are not to make our lives miserable but rather to help us cultivate detachment and mindfulness. Detachment from things; mindfulness of God, our neighbor and life.

Things are good when they enhance life. Attachments are wonderful when they enliven our spirits and strengthen our souls.

But, speaking from the "I", I can easily go through my daily routine like a mindless robot, eating whatever I want whenever I want and as much as I want without paying so much as a single thought to the taste and texture of the food, much less to the countless millions who at this very moment have no choice but to go without.

Listening to the news every waking moment, constantly posting on Facebook, surfing the internet every chance I get, all these things, while good in themselves, have an insideous way of numbing me to life.

Thus I welcome the yearly reminder that I and none of us are long for this world. Time is precious precisely because it is so temporary. Life on this earth is temporary.

So what am I going to do, not with the rest of my life, not with these 40 days, but with this wonderful gift of life and time I have right now?

Mindfulness of God and my life and the needs of those around me fill me more than the steak dinner and cafe latte I forego.

I give praise and thanks to God for the gift of death which so starkly highlights the beauty and miracle of life.

Blessed curses (6th Sunday Year C)

2010-02-14T07:19:00.000-08:00

Every curse contains a blessing, and every blessing a curse. Hardships are temporary, but then so is good fortune. That seems to be the theme of today’s readings. What’s more, the things people normally consider blessings—being well fed, being happy, having people speak well of you—Luke’s gospel calls curses; and the things they call curses—being hungry, being poor, being persecuted—Luke calls blessings.

One role of Scripture is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.

Winning the lottery should be a blessing. But two weeks ago a woman in New Jersey won a $7,000 lottery. That seemed like good luck. But on her way to celebrate her win with friends, she was struck by a car and killed.

Missing your commuter train on your way to work seems at first like bad luck. But more than one worker at the World Trade Towers lived to bless their so-called bad luck later that Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

A man misses his flight, bad luck. His friend owns a small plane, good luck. At 25,000 feet, that small plane runs out of gas, bad luck. Both the pilot and he have parachutes, good luck! The man’s parachute fails to open, bad luck. Below he spots a huge haystack, good luck. At the last minute he spots a pitchfork in the haystack. Fortunately the man missed the pitchfork. Unfortunately he also missed the haystack.

This old bromide underscores that our personal story, our adventure, our life doesn’t end until the day we die. Only then can we know if we are truly blessed or cursed. For those of us who put our faith in Christ, all of life becomes a blessing no matter what hardships we may have had to endure.

Being nailed to a cross to die would seem like the epitome of bad luck. Yet we know the story doesn’t end there. The Cross became a blessing. But only if Christ is raised from the dead. As St. Paul tells us in the second reading, if Christ is not raised, than those who died believing in him are the most pitiable of people.

But if Christ is not raised from the dead, than why do we even bother coming to church? If Christ is not raised from the dead, then the Scriptures bear false witness. If Christ is not raised from the dead, than we and all humanity remain ultimately under the curse of death.

But if Christ has been raised, then death has been conquered. And if death has been conquered, than Scripture says we who live and die believing in him will also rise from the dead. If we are ultimately blessed forever, than no matter what misfortunes befall us, we know our final destination is nothing less than eternal life with Christ.

Jesus, avatar of Yahweh

2010-02-08T09:05:00.000-08:00

In Hinduism, an avatar (from the Sanskrit word for “descent”) represents a god coming to earth in human form to help out a confused, endangered or wayward humanity. The disguise is necessary, one assumes, so the divine countenance doesn’t freak everybody out. There have been myriads of avatars over the ages, but Lord Krishna is the most famous avatar of Vishnu, the supreme Hindu deity.

In all those colorful pictures of Krishna, especially in the Bhagavad-Gita, blue skin distinguishes him from mere mortals. This clues us in to the divinity hiding behind the human face. My guess is the blue skin of the Na’vi on Pandora was not coincidental.

The movie Avatar affords us an opportunity to take a fresh look at Jesus. Theologians in centuries past wrestled with their understanding of Christ. They came up with the now familiar yet still mind-boggling formulas such as the Word-made-flesh, true God and true man, one in being with the Father. Expressions like “hypostatic union” and “consubstantial with the Father” were their attempts to explain how Jesus had two natures, one human, one divine, yet at the same time was one in being with the Father. Ultimately their terminology remained as inscrutable as the mystery itself.

Now, thanks to the immensely popular movie, people may be ready to accept Jesus as the avatar of Yahweh.

There are, of course, extremely important differences between Jesus and Krishna, let alone the fictional character Jake Scully!

The humans in the movie are not going to Pandora to save the natives but to exploit its resources. Interestingly enough, however, Jake’s avatar ultimately does indeed save the Na’vi from destruction. This captures the dilemma of requiring a savior from “above” but who is nonetheless like us in all things.

Few would argue that the human race continues to be confused, endangered and wayward, no less today than 2,000 years ago. The idea that “no one can see the face of God and live” is as prevalent in Judeo-Christian tradition as it is in Hinduism, so should Yahweh choose to come to earth to save us, a human being would be necessary to save us both from our situation and from seeing God face-to-face.

In the movie, the humans use avatars to protect themselves from the toxic air on Pandora. In order to mix with the native, blue-skinned Na’vi race of felinesque humanoids, people must either wear oxygen masks or enter a genetically altered, hybrid human/Na’vi avatar body. To do this, they lie down in a coffin-like computerized container that monitors their every brain wave and bodily movement. The container then slides into a special chamber, reminiscent of the cardboard coffin rolling into the crematory furnace in the opening scene. Their minds and souls, as it were, pass into their avatars and return to their human bodies at the end of the day, once the session is over.

Like the valiant missionaries of centuries past, Dr. Grace Augustine (get it?) spearheads the Na’vi “inculturation” program. Select humans will live among the natives,look like them, learn their language and culture, and hopefully win their hearts and minds. And as happens with earthbound missioners, “going native” sometimes results in identifying with the people so completely we become one of them, even if we are misunderstood as “betraying our own race.”

In the movie’s last scene Jake Scully, the human, dies and then, through the power of the Deity Eywa, opens his eyes in his erstwhile avatar body. He has successfully gone from inculturation to incarnation. He has passed from death through God to new life.

That last “eye-opening” moment best captures Jesus as Yahweh’s avatar, God come to earth in human form to save us; so identifying with us he totally becomes one with us from the first moment of his conception till his last breath on the Cross. Unlike the avatars in the movie, Jesus doesn’t merely borrow a human body so he can conveniently move among us, going back and forth to his divine Self. Remaining God, he becomes totally human to save our humanity through his humanity.

This truth echoes through the hymn in Philippians 2:6, “Although he was in the form of God, he did not deem equality with God something to be grasped, but rather emptied himself, taking the form of a slave and being born in human likeness.”

The prologue to John’s gospel declares, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God…and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

Jesus himself states, “The Father and I are one” (John 12:30) and “The one who has seen me, has seen the Father” (John 14:9).

With this notion of Jesus as the avatar of Yahweh, I invite you to search the Scriptures yourself to see if this holds true.

As for my using the diving name instead of just saying God, I wanted to emphasize it is very much the Jewish God taking human form in Jesus, whose name “Yahoshua” in Aramaic means “Yahweh saves.” The divine name itself translates “I AM WHO AM.” (Ex. 3:14) Thus, in John’s gospel, Jesus himself invokes the divine name declaring, “Before Abraham was, I AM” (John 8:58).

While we should not overlook the symbolism of Hometree and the Tree of Souls in Avatar, more important is their Deity, Eywa, arguably an anagram for Yawe(h).

OK, so a case may be made (and in fact has been acknowledged by Hindus centuries ago) that Jesus is the avatar of Yahweh. So what? Well, here’s the kicker: I believe we are called to be avatars of Jesus!

This process begins at Baptism, when we die to our old self, but it requires a true conversion, not just a change of religion or even a change of heart. It demands a total transformation of self into Self until we, like St. Paul, can say, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:20).

St Paul tells us “Be renewed in the spirit of your mind and put on the new man” (Ephesians 4:23-24) Sexist language notwithstanding, St. Paul admonishes us to allow the grace, the spirit of Christ, to possess us totally and transform us into new creations.

As avatars of Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit, we truly become the Body of Christ, not just in symbol but in fact. This is not just for our individual or even communal salvation, but for all creation which “groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now…waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons and daughters, the redemption of our body” (Romans 8:22-23).

Through Jesus, God saves humanity. Through humanity, Jesus saves all creation. We have our work cut out for us. Open your eyes

Whom shall I send? (Fifth Sunday, Year C)

2010-02-07T05:00:00.000-08:00

What do Isaiah, St. Paul and St. Peter have in common? They each had an experience of God that changed their lives.

Isaiah had his vision of God while worshiping in the Holy of Holies inside the Temple in Jerusalem. He describes God seated on a high throne, the train of God’s robes filling the Temple. Clouds of incense rise up and the Temple shakes as angels call out, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts! All the earth is filled with God’s glory!” You might recognize what the angels said, as we use similar words to mark the holiest part of the Mass. They warn us we are about to enter into the very presence of God.

Isaiah’s reaction to seeing God bears noting. He was filled with fear. He thinks he is doomed to die. “Woe is me! I am doomed!” he cries, for no one can look at the face of God and live. He is overcome by his own sense of unworthiness. “I am a man of unclean lips from a people of unclean lips!”

But instead of striking him dead, God sends a seraph angel with tongs to take a red-hot coal from the incense burner and touch Isaiah’s lips to purge away any sin, any evil, any uncleanliness.

“Whom shall I send? Who will be go for us?” God then asks. Purified by fire, Isaiah answers, “Here I am Lord, send me.” In taking away Isaiah’s sin, God also took away his excuses.

Unlike Isaiah, Paul wasn’t worshiping in the Temple when the Risen Christ appeared to him. In fact, he was actually persecuting the Church, arresting Christians and putting them in prison. He believed he was doing the work of God. Paul was so determined to wipe out followers of Christ he even held the cloaks of the men who stoned St. Stephen to death.

After Jesus appeared to him, Paul became conscious of his own unworthiness to be a disciple, much less an apostle, of Christ. But this experience convinced him we are not saved by our own efforts; we are saved by God’s grace. Paul wrote in Romans 5:8 “while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” If he, Paul, could experience God’s grace while trying to destroy the Church, than anybody can experience God no matter what they are doing.

And Peter wasn’t even doing God’s when he became aware of Jesus. He wasn’t in the Temple praying; he wasn’t going about fanatically following his interpretation of the Law. He was fishing. He was just doing his job, trying to make a living. He was literally minding his own business. To be sure, he wasn’t having a very good day (or night) fishing. In fact he caught nothing. You might say he was a failure.

Then along comes Jesus, a carpenter, telling him to try one more time, cast out into the deep and lower his nets for a catch. I mean really. What does a carpenter know about fishing? But I guess to humor Jesus who seemed like a well-meaning fellow, Peter and his companions launch their boats again. They lower their nets and so many fish fill them that the nets were in danger of breaking and the boats of sinking.

Peter, like Paul, like Isaiah, is overcome by his unworthiness and asks Jesus to go away. Jesus dismisses Peter’s painful humility and instead calls him to be a fisher of men and women. Use your experience, use your skills to spread the kingdom of God and let your humility constantly remind you it is not your business you are doing but mine.

But Isaiah, Paul and Peter not only experienced God and were overwhelmed by their own unworthiness, they also shared something else: a willingness to do God’s will.

What about you? Today, February 7, 2010 it’s your turn. Have you ever experienced God while at prayer or while sinning or while minding your own business? Whatever you are doing, God is calling you today to get over yourself.

Do you trust that the one who is calling you will give you the strength and grace you’ll need to answer God’s call? Your protestations of sinfulness or unworthiness are futile. God knows who you are. God knows what you did. He calls you anyway. Not because you are worthy. Not because you are holy. But because God loves you. So, are you willing to use your experience, use your talents, use your skills to spread the kingdom of God. God still asks, “Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?”

Who will answer, “Here I am , Lord, send me”?

Who are the Chosen People? (4th Sunday, Year C)

2010-01-31T06:30:00.000-08:00

Who are the Chosen People? By their own declaration and by our own perhaps begrudging admission, the Jews. The Jews are the Chosen People of God. Now, when you hear me say that, how do you feel? Does it make you feel a little uncomfortable? Do you feel a little resentment, a little jealous? Perhaps because it makes you feel inferior? After all, why should God choose the Jews and not, say, the Koreans or the Italians? Are not Italians the true master race? Everyone knows there are only two kinds of people in the world: Italians and those who wish they were Italians.

Is not our reaction to the Jews being chosen by God the same as today’s Gospel reaction of the Jews to Jesus? “Just who does he think he is? We know him! We know his family. Where does he get all this?”

The curious thing in today’s Gospel, the Jews in Jesus’ hometown of Nazareth had just been praising him. A prophet has risen among us! God has blessed us through him. This proves how special we are!

Now Jesus could have kept his mouth shut and just let them inflate his ego. “Ha! You think I’m just a prophet? I’m not just a prophet. I’m the Son of God. You people have no idea of just how blessed you are to have me here with you today.”

But Jesus didn’t say that. Instead he popped their bubble by reminding them that while God truly does love them, he loves others too, including non-Jews. He pointed out that his mission was to let all people in the world know just how beloved and blessed they are. The famous line of Scripture, John 3:16, (that we see at many baseball games) doesn’t say “For God so loved the Jews that he gave us his only Son” but rather, “God so loved the world…” That includes us.

The Jews rightly feel special. After all, through them God revealed salvation, the Bible and Jesus, the savior of the world. But God also allowed the Jews to suffer in terrible ways throughout their history. Why? To show the world that suffering does not mean you are cursed or abandoned, but rather how God is with you even in your darkest hour.

Just because the Jews are the Chosen People doesn’t make other peoples less beloved by God. In fact, God chose the Jews to be the light to the Gentiles. That’s us. God chose them in order to bring his truth and salvation to us in Jesus Christ, who was born, raised, lived and died as a Jew. We are the reason God chose the Jews! We are the reason God chose Jeremiah while he was still within his mother's womb. Jeremiah was persecuted for bringing God's light to the nations. Jesus was crucified for bringing God's salvation to the world. On the cross, the darkest hour for all people, mankind rejected God, but God blessed all mankind.

God does not love us because we are special; we are special because God loves us. You should recite this each morning as soon as you awaken and at night before you sleep. “God does not love me because I am special; I am special because God loves me.”

The question, the challenge today is: just how have we accepted God’s love? How have we allowed God’s love to transform our minds and change our life?

The second reading from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians is a perfect description of love. You can take out the word “love” and substitute the word “Jesus” and take out the word “it” and substitute “he” and it reads, “Jesus is patient, Jesus is kind. He is not jealous, he is not pompous, he is not inflated. Jesus is not rude, he does not seek his own interest, he is not quick tempered, he does not brood over injury. Jesus does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. Jesus bears all thing, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

So far so good. Now let’s test ourselves. Let’s see just how Christian we are. Look at that same passage in today’s second reading and instead of the words “love is” put in “I am.” Here’s how I would read it: I am patient, I am kind. I am not jealous, I am not pompous, I am not inflated. I am not rude, I am not easily angered...."

How far can you go down the list without laughing or without being embarrassed? Those are the areas you need to work on. Certainly I am not so patient and not always kind. Sometimes I can be very rude and often get angry. This exercise shows me just how much farther I need to travel on the road towards spiritual perfection.

As Catholic Christians it is our duty to constantly convert to this life of love. But this is not just for our own good so that we can feel holier or superior to others, rather it’s for others who may not be our relatives, may not be Korean or Catholic. Like Jesus, we must share our good news, our blessings with the whole world. And like Jesus, we must be prepared when people misunderstand us, when they do not accept us, when they reject us, oppose us, and persecute us.

Because the Jews are the Chosen People, Jesus chose us. Because Jesus chose us, all people are now the Chosen People. Because all people are the Chosen People, the only master race is the human race.

Becoming living Gospels (Third Sunday, Year C)

2010-01-23T15:15:00.000-08:00

The Bible has been the all-time best selling book since it first appeared in print in 1454. It has been translated into more than 2,000 languages. Estimates put the number of Bibles in the world at around 6 billion. That’s approximately one Bible for every man, woman and child on earth. So why, then, is there an apparent disconnect between what we read in the newspaper or see on the TV news and the fact that there are so many Bibles in the world?

First, there is the problem of distribution. I personally own at least ten Bibles. So there are at least nine people in the world who don’t have a Bible because of me. And does this make me ten times holier than the person who owns only one? I wish it were that simple.

The truth of the matter is there are millions of people in China, India and Africa who don’t have a Bible and who never heard of Jesus Christ. But there are tens of millions more people who have Bibles but who never read them.

Just owning a Bible does not automatically make you holy or a better person just like owning an encyclopedia doesn’t automatically make you smart. You have to read it, study it, understand it and incorporate it into your way of thinking and acting.

Of course another factor to consider is there are very different kinds of Bibles. The Hebrew Scripture that Jesus knew consisted of the Torah, or the Books of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms. The Protestant Bible, first translated by Martin Luther, contains 63 books; the Catholic Bible 72. See? If you buy a Catholic Bible you get more Word of God for your money!

But having a larger Bible is no more beneficial than having a lot of Bibles. It’s what you do with the Word of God that matters. Then there are the different translations of the Bible. In English alone there are more than 20 different translations. Each is written to help us better understand the message. That’s why it’s good to have at least two or three different translations: one for study, one for prayer, and one to remind us there are different ways to understand and live out the Word of God in our lives.

If you ever have the opportunity to attend a Jewish service in a synagogue, I encourage you to go, especially if the service is in Hebrew. Hear the words of Scripture as Jesus heard them. The highpoint of the service is opening the curtain and revealing the Torah scrolls. These are handwritten scriptures costing many thousands of dollars. They are usually kept in an elaborate cases made of silver, carved wood and velvet with an exquisite crown. These Torah scrolls are for the Jewish community what the tabernacle is for us Catholics: the visible, tangible proof of God’s love for us and God’s abiding presence with us. On special occasions the Torah is processed into the synagogue and as it passes, people reach out to touch the covering of the sacred texts.

In recent years, we have processed in the church carrying the Book of the Gospels. This has pride of place among all other books of the Bible. Indeed, we filter our understanding of the Bible through what the Gospels tell us about God through Jesus. You notice we don’t carry the Book of the Gospels out after Mass. That’s because after the word is proclaimed and after we hear it and keep it in our hearts, the printed Bible’s work is done.

Now it’s our turn to take the Word of God out into the world, to live it and share it with those around us in our daily lives.

In the first reading from the Book of Nehemiah we hear how the Israelites reacted when they heard the words of the Torah for the first time. Years before, the Temple had been destroyed and their world turned upside down. They thought they had lost their homeland, their Temple, their Torah and their religion. Then their captors allowed them to return and rebuild. Hidden away in the ruins of the old Temple they found the Torah and its reading reminded them that God was still with them.

In the Gospel of Luke we hear how Jesus went into a synagogue and read from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah. But he did more than read it. He fulfilled it. He would preach good news to the poor and give sight to the blind and set captives free.

Today is our turn. We have received the word of God. It has the power to transform our lives and through us to transform the world. In a few minutes we will receive the Body of Christ to give us the grace and strength we need to live our lives according to God’s will.

And it all begins with the Bible. Let us make an effort to read the Word of God every day. Let us understand what we read and believe what we understand and live according to what we believe.

Homily for Haiti Mass 1/20/10

2010-01-19T16:45:00.000-08:00

We gather this morning in sorrow and solidarity with the people of Haiti. Words cannot begin to express the pain and horror that they continue to suffer more than a week after the devastating earthquake reduced their lives and their world to rubble. Even as we gather to pray in the comfort of this beautiful chapel, we know there are people still trapped, waiting for rescue which may not come, waiting for food and water, which may not be enough, and waiting for medical attention before it is too late. The situation is beyond desperate.

We are shocked at the images we see on our TV screens and cannot even begin to imagine what it must be like to experience this nightmare first hand. This is no science fiction thriller; this is ultimate reality. Those are real people suffering real pain. Our first natural inclination is to cry out, “Why?” Why did this happen? If God is all powerful, if God is all loving, if God is all merciful, how can he allow something like this to happen, especially to a people who have suffered such terrible poverty and oppression for so long, and who put their faith in him? Where is God in all this?

These are understandable questions and doubts and it is only natural to feel them, but we, as well as our brothers and sisters in Haiti, are a deeply religious and spiritual people. Although there is no answer to the mystery of evil, suffering and death, there is a response: the equally great mystery of love, sacrifice, compassion and life.

Something amazing happened in our world. Suddenly we were no longer a world divided, no longer Democrats and Republicans, no longer different races and religions. Haiti reminded us we are one family on one precious and fragile planet. We are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers.

Scenes of the devastation made us forget our own problems, if only but for a moment. Did we recently lose a loved one? At least we had the opportunity to offer them a dignified funeral. Are we facing health issues? At least our hospitals are still standing and doctors and nurses attend to our needs. We have access to food, clean water, clothing and a roof over our heads.

But something else even more amazing happened. The world quickly moved beyond “Why did this happen?” to “What can we do to help?” The outpouring of donations and relief goods and rescue workers is unprecedented in the history of the world. The same media which informed us about the tragedy became an instrument for offering support.

Our first reading from the book of Job (Job 1:13~21) aptly describes the situation of Haitians who suffer one calamity after another through no fault of their own. Job might even be considered a patron saint for Haiti. In the end, no explanation for his suffering sufficed, yet his faith remained: “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the Name of the Lord."

And in the Gospel story of Jesus (Mark 3:1~6) healing a man with a withered hand, we are shown the path of compassion and salvation: compassion for those less fortunate and salvation for us, one person at a time.

So, where is God in all this? We who believe in a crucified Savior know the answer. If God was there nailed to a cross, then God is there in Haiti crying out from under the rubble; God is there in the tears and anguish of those mourning the death of relatives; God is waiting in agony, fever and pain for medical attention, for food, for water. But God is also there in the rescue workers, the doctors, nurses, soldiers, relief workers. God is with the person who shares her ration of food with her hungry neighbor. God is with the thirsty man who offers his bottle of water to a dying patient. But know that God is also in you, gathered here in prayer, drawn together by a common concern and motivated to do something to express your compassion.

Just as it is a miracle that people are being pulled from the rubble a week after the earthquake struck, so today we also witness a miracle here in this Chapel. We stand today before the mystery of suffering and death by proclaiming the mystery of love and life. We stand before the mystery of the Cross. We acknowledge each moment of life is not only gift, it's a miracle.

Where is God in this?

2010-01-17T11:46:00.000-08:00

In today's Gospel (John 2:1-11) we hear the last words of the Virgin Mary recorded in the Bible, "Do whatever he tells you." John only mentions Mary twice: once at the Marriage in Cana where Jesus performs his first of seven signs, changing water into wine, then at the very end, when Mary silently witnesses the death of her son. Thus she is present at the beginning and end of his ministry, always directing people's attention to Jesus.

Last Thursday I had a chance to see "The Book of Eli" starring Denzel Washington. I don't recommend it. Oh, it's a great movie and guys will like it, but I think women may find it a bit too violent and gory for their taste. Then again, it's not any gorier than the Bible. The story takes place in the not-too-distant future after a nuclear war has ended all civilization as we know it. Thirty years after, there are few survivors, no government, no law and no religion. Eli Walker (Densel) has a mission to carry the last extant Bible to the west. All kinds of nasty people try to thwart his progress. Two quotes stand out: in one scene, when someone asks him what life was like "before," he replies, "We threw away things people kill for now." A KFC handy-wipe, shampoo, and especially water are valued more than gold. The other quote comes when Eli regrets not helping a woman being attacked and questions his mission. "I spent so many years saving this Book I forgot to live by it."

Which brings us to the third point of the week: the disaster in Haiti. Even as we celebrate today's Mass in the comfort of this church, there are people suffering and dying and buried in rubble waiting to be rescued. Others are seriously wounded, all are hungry and thirsty. With 80 percent of the population Catholic and with a death toll sure to top 100,000, it is only natural to wonder, "If God exists where was he when this happened?" We who believe God became human in Jesus know the answer: God is there, buried in the ruins; there bleeding and there dying. We say in the Apostles' creed that Jesus "descended into hell." Surely he is present in the hell on earth that Haiti has become.

But something wonderful also happened. For a brief moment, and maybe still for awhile longer, we were no longer Democrats and Republicans; Koreans and Americans and Africans; rich and poor, white and brown. Everyone in the world became brothers and sisters of each other and of all Haitians. No matter how much we may be suffering in our own lives, nothing compares to what they are going through. Even if we've lost a loved one, we had the luxury of affording them a dignified burial and didn't have to endure the indignity of anonymous bodies being thrown into a mass grave.

And the response of people around the world has been astounding. Never before in human history has there been such an outpouring of support and aid. And so today, through the Gospel, Mary instructs us still to "Do whatever he tells you." And elsewhere in the Bible Jesus reminds us, "Whatever you do for the least of your brothers and sisters, you do for me." Living by the Bible, the question is no longer what is God doing, but what are we doing?

For in putting into practice the words of the Bible, in doing what Jesus tells us to do, we not only defend the humanity of Haitians but we also save our own.