Memorial of Saint Jerome, Priest and Doctor of the Church
“When the days for Jesus to be taken up were fulfilled,
he resolutely determined to journey to Jerusalem,
and he sent messengers ahead of him.
On the way they entered a Samaritan village
to prepare for his reception there,
but they would not welcome him…”
Feast of Saints Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, Archangels
I was visiting with my mom a few days ago and we were talking about some decisions I was trying to make. It always makes me nervous sharing with her because she knows me so well. I am the same way with my kids. It seems no one in the world ever knows you as well as your mom does. And that is what happened. I hadn’t even finished what I was telling her and she looked at me (with her exasperated mother look) and said, “Oh, Gaaaay-elll! You know exactly what you are supposed to do!!” I was sunk! I rolled my eyes and said to her, “I know….I hate it when you do that—I don’t like it that you know me so well!” Then we both laughed. It is so true. I think it makes us uneasy to know that sometimes there is another person that knows us even better than we know ourselves. It is a knowing that transcends our intellect and reason.
Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s gospel parable is the story of a vineyard owner and two sons. On the periphery the rhetorical question that Jesus poses to the chief priests is very simple. “Which of the two sons did his father's will?" The answer that Jesus opponents gave is also rather simple – “The first.” But then parables are never about the obvious. If I was a parent, I would not want a child who refuses my requests and then completes the task or a child who complies but then does not carry out the task. Would you? I would like my child to both comply and fulfils my request. The parable is actually about a ‘third son’ – Jesus Christ. This Son both said “Yes” to his Father AND fulfilled the task of human redemption assigned to him. But the chief priest and the elders could not look deep enough to recognize that.
Memorial of Saint Vincent de Paul, Priest
God, in his infinite wisdom, will allow terrible things to happen and will intervene in ordinary and extraordinary ways to alleviate those terrible things. This paradox can be tough for us to wrestle with but I want to spend some time on the latter half of it today.
Friday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time
Thursday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time
Sometimes I feel like a hamster in a hamster wheel going around and around and not really getting anywhere. Some days and weeks feel like the same chores, the same work being done just to have to do them all again: meals to be made, dishes to be done, school lunches to be packed, laundry to be washed, homework to be supervised, lessons to be driven to; grocery shopping, cleaning, paying bills, scheduling appointments, running errands, ‘round and ‘round and ‘round life goes.
Wednesday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time
In the first reading from Proverbs, the writer is asking God for two things. The first is protection from falsehood and lying and the second is to be provided with only what is needed. The writer desires to trust fully in God and in God’s ability to provide, not of their own doing.
Memorial of Saint Pius of Pietrelcina, Priest
Today’s first reading is a very good example of Israel’s prophetic tradition. This tradition is made up of individuals who have been chosen by God for a rather unenviable task: to correct the community in all of the ways they aren’t doing what God has asked of them. Therefore, we can see in the prophets what God wants from them but also what they’ve been doing and saying wrong. For example, the author of Proverbs says that, “To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the LORD than sacrifice.” We can assume that there were people around who thought that their rituals and sacrifices were enough to please God. Instead, Proverbs reminds us that what God really demands is righteousness and justice (which often can include the demand for ritual and practices).
Monday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time
Light is something that we experience on a daily basis, and yet we so often take it for granted. When I was recently cutting my grass in the evening as the sun was setting and the moon was rising, I recognized how much our life is affected by light. Without light we are often unable to accomplish tasks and are potentially at risk for getting hurt, since we are unable to see where we are going. Jesus in today’s reading talks about placing a lamp on a stand so people can see where they are going. Christ is the light that illuminates our path and faith in him shows us where to go. When we bask in the light of the “Son,” not only do we accomplish what we need to do with His guidance and grace, but we too become lights that provide a reflection of His mercy and compassion for the world around us.
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
I began our parish retreat, ‘Discipleship: Encountering Christ Everyday,” by outlining the hierarchy of beings. I suggested that encountering God is a complicated reality because of the huge gap between who God is and who we are. The difference between God and us is like the difference between a bug and us. If a bug or a bull-frog were trying to describe human beings, what would they say? I am not trying to raise a bizarre question to draw your attention. I am merely trying to draw your attention to the first reading from Isaiah, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD. As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts.”
Memorial of Saint Andrew Kim Tae-gŏn, Priest, and Paul Chŏng Ha-sang, and Companions, Martyrs
Luke’s Gospel gives us much to ponder on today. We can think about the nature of parables, the question of God’s providence and our understanding. We can talk about the Devil, temptation, and sin. But I want to focus on the last group of seeds from the parable, the ones that fell on rich soil.
Friday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
Thursday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
Who am I today? Who do I relate more with in today’s readings? Am I like the self-righteous Pharisee quick to judge the sinful woman? Am I like the Sinful Woman with abundant love to share because of the abundant forgiveness given? Am I like Paul who, because of his sinful past and dramatic conversion, now sees himself as the least of all the Apostles but able to give glory to God for who he has become?
Wednesday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
In class at the seminary last week I learned a new vocabulary word. Pianoforte is a word that has become abbreviated and now we simply call it a piano. Pianoforte translates from its Italian roots to mean soft and strong. This imagery rushed upon me as I reflected on these readings from scripture. Angelic tongues, without love, are like clashing cymbals. While a piano can be played and the notes can be rendered precisely, without love is it really music?
Memorial of Saints Cornelius, Pope, and Cyprian, Bishop, Martyrs
Today, on the feast day of martyrs Cornelius and Cyprian, we are instructed by St. Paul on the unity of the Church. We also hear these words in the midst of a world torn apart by violence. The reality of the martyrs is upon us: our sisters and brothers are daily loosing their lives for their profession of faith in Christ. It seems that, at this point when it seems that the world could not be more torn to pieces, it is important that we listen to the words of Paul very closely.
Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows
There is a song by Neil Young entitled “Only Love Can Break Your Heart”. I love the song as it reminds me of a time when I was younger. Now that I have lived a bit, I realize more deeply the truth in those words. When I recall the times I have had a broken heart it has always been because I loved someone. I have no regrets about the suffering but I do realize that if I had not loved I would not have suffered. Loving another includes suffering. Loving means opening myself to the probability of some type of loss, betrayal, or disappointment—in other words, suffering and sorrow. I think most people would look back through their lives and, given the chance, would choose to love even though they now know, in addition to the joy, the heart breaking sorrow that would accompany that love.
Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross
Two weeks back, the gospel reading was the passage where Jesus says to his disciples, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” I had preached a homily on the meaning of “carrying our crosses.” Today, on the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, I would like you hear this quote. It is a quote by Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa, a Franciscan Capuchin priest and also the papal household preacher for both Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict. He says, "It is no longer you who carry the cross; it is the cross that carries you; the cross does not crush but exalts you." I find great comfort in the fact that this year the feast of the exaltation of the cross falls on a Sunday, so that the entire Church can reflect on the power of the cross of Jesus Christ.
Memorial of Saint John Chrysostom, Bishop and Doctor of the Church
Fr. Michel Schmitz tells the familiar story of a child who asks their parents if their deceased pet will one day be reunited with them in heaven. Looking upon their parents with anticipation and hope, the parents respond as only they know how- by gently and lovingly reassuring the child that if they need their pet in heaven to be happy with God then God will surely reunite the child with the animal. Putting theological arguments of a spiritual soul versus a material soul aside along with our own love for animals and the theological opinions of St. Francis, Fr. Schmitz draws out one problem with the parents’ reply: if we need God AND something else (whatever that something else may be) in heaven in order to be happy, then maybe we’re not ready for heaven.
Friday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time
Thursday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time
I am, by nature, a people-watcher. I love sitting back, observing people, and trying to figure out their backstory and their family history. I always make speculations and guesses as to how everyone in a group fits together or who is in a relationship with whom, just based on subtle gestures that they may be doing. I always want to know more about the people I am observing.