Homily for the Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time - June 28, 2020

Homily for June 28, 2020

Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

Death to Self

 

            People often ask me, “Why do priests wear black?” If I’m feeling sarcastic I usually respond with something like, “It makes us look thinner” or “It helps hide the pasta stains”! But the truth is, we wear black to show that we are dead to this world. In other words, the pleasures and joys of this world should no longer interest us – we are living for Christ alone.

            But this is not just for priests. Both St. Paul and Jesus make it clear in today’s readings that all Christians are called to put to death their sinful nature. What is he talking about, and how do we do this?

            Human beings are made of two parts – body and soul. Our body comprises our physical desires, and also our emotions and feelings. Our soul, however, includes our intellect and our free will. Our lower nature (bodily desires and emotions) should be under control of our higher nature (our soul). But because of original sin, we find that there is a rebellion within us – our body wants to be the master of our soul! We call this concupiscence – the weakness of our will that makes our soul a slave to the body.

            We’ve all had the experience of concupiscence. We know it would be gluttonous to have that fourth donut, but we do it anyway. We know that two beers is our limit, but we are tempted to go for a third. Our intellect can perceive that possessions don’t make us happy, but that big-screen TV is on sale and hey, it’s time to upgrade the old one anyway. So the struggle rages between our lower nature and our higher nature, between the body and its desires and the soul and what is truly good for it.

            So we must put to death the lower nature. Putting something to death means doing violence to it – death involves suffering and struggle. So if we wish to be alive in Christ, we must embrace the sacrifices necessary to subdue our lower nature.

            Practically, I want to mention two important ways to do this.

            First, fasting. When I was a seminarian, my spiritual director said to me, “You will not begin to have a spiritual life until you stop snacking between meals.” At the time, I thought, “That’s crazy – what do my eating habits have to do with my love for God?” But the older I get, I realize – he is absolutely right! St. Alphonsus Liguori said, “Control of the palate (our food) is the ABC’s of holiness.”

            Why? Because we as Christians must learn to deny ourselves! I firmly believe that most people struggle with sins and addictions because we have never, ever denied ourselves anything. If we are hot, we turn on the A/C. If we are hungry, we eat – regardless of what time it is. If we are tired, we take a nap or a Five Hour Energy. Most people live lives that are so self-indulgent that when a temptation comes, they have never learned how to deny themselves anything – so they fall into the temptation.

            Fasting is a powerful method of serious self-discipline that strengthens our soul to have greater mastery over our body. As St. Augustine wrote, “Fasting cleanses the soul, raises the mind, subjects one’s flesh to the spirit, renders the heart contrite and humble, scatters the clouds of temptation, quenches the fire of lust, and kindles the true light of chastity.” I can tell you that in my own life, fasting has been a game-changer. It has led to greater interior freedom, more closeness to Christ, more self-control. If you struggle with stubborn sins, particularly sins of lust, then fasting is the best way to overcome them. After all, Jesus said in another Gospel that “some demons are only cast out through prayer and fasting.”

            Fasting and penance should be a regular part of every Christian’s life even outside of Lent. So what is the best way to fast? Start by going without dessert and drinking only water for a few weeks. Deny yourself a second helping. Get up without hitting the snooze button. Take a cold shower. The goal isn’t to be “macho” or just to grit your teeth and “tough it out” – the goal is to put to death your lower nature, so that your soul can flourish.

            In addition to fasting, every Christian should practice generosity that costs something. What do I mean? Most of us, when we give money to a charity, give out of our surplus – “Oh, I got a good bonus this year, so I can spare an extra hundred in the collection plate.” That’s all well and good, but when is the last time you have given something that hurts? For example, perhaps a person has gotten into the habit of stopping by Starbucks every morning on the way to work. It would be entirely possible to skip those Starbucks runs and give that money to the poor. Would it be a sacrifice? Yes, especially if you look forward to that little consolation every morning! But that is precisely what it means to take up your cross. Maybe don’t go out and buy the most expensive pair of shoes, but buy a less expensive one instead and give that money you saved to the poor.

            In addition to our bodily desires, our lower nature also wants worldly things – the glitter of the nicest car, the best clothes, the finest vacations, the ability to buy anything at anytime. So to put to death that part of our lower nature, we must overcome our desire to have the latest and greatest, and instead feel the pinch, the discomfort, the sacrifice of making due with simple and inexpensive things. We must not hunger for the passing pleasures of wealth – rather, put that worldly desire to death so that our only hunger may be for God.

            Please don’t misunderstand – physical pleasure and nice things aren’t bad in themselves. But using the things of this world are only a short step from clinging desperately to the things of this world! Only when we have put to death our lower desires – when they have no more power over us – will we experience the true freedom Christ has won for us, and only then will we grow in holiness.

Homily for Twelfth Sunday of Ordinary Time - June 21, 2020

Homily for Ordinary Time 12

June 21, 2020

Eternal Life

 

            The old man, stooped under the weight of years, was led into the arena. Thousands of spectators were there, and the Proconsul said to him, “Come now, Polycarp, have respect for your old age, swear by the ancient gods.” But the venerable old bishop replied, “For eighty-six years I have served Him, and He has done me no wrong; how can I blaspheme my King and Savior?”

            The proconsul threatened to turn loose wild animals upon the old man. Yet Polycarp replied, “Call them. It is unthinkable for me to turn from what is good to what is evil.” Seeing him undaunted by animals, the proconsul then threatened to burn him alive. Polycarp responded, “You threaten me with fire which burns for an hour, and is then extinguished, but you know nothing of the fire of the coming judgment and eternal punishment, reserved for the ungodly. Why are you waiting? Bring on whatever you want.”

            The old man then undid his outer garment and laid it aside, and stepped forward of his own accord onto the logs that had been prepared. They were going to nail him to the wood so that he wouldn’t escape, but he objected, saying, “Leave me as I am, for he that gives me strength to endure the fire, will enable me not to struggle.”

            When they lit the flames, an amazing thing happened. The flames, instead of burning the flesh, began to form a large oval around his body, as if he was wreathed in glory. Instead of his body turning black, it began to glow a golden-brown, and the odor of burning incense was smelled by all. In fury, the proconsul ordered the soldiers to stab him to death, which they did – his blood flowed out upon the flames and put them out. Thus St. Polycarp was victorious over death in the arena, around the year 150AD.

            “Do not fear those that can kill the body – rather, fear those who can kill body and soul in Hell,” says Our Lord. It is important to note that in Greek there are three words for life. There is bios (from which we get the English word “biology”) meaning our physical life of the body. There is also psuche (from which we get the English word “psychology”) meaning the life of the mind, our consciousness, our personality. But there is one more type of life: zoe, which means spiritual life, the divine life of God. It is this last kind of life, our zoe, that is of primary importance.

            For all of us, our bios will come to an end someday. As good as our physical life is, it’s temporary. Why would we worry about temporary things? If I had to build a building that I knew would only last for a week, I wouldn’t bother putting in a foundation or using the best materials. When we go to a hotel, we don’t take along the fine china and the family pictures, because we know we aren’t staying very long. In the same way, why would we go to tremendous effort to worry about our bios – with all that it entails - when we are really here on this earth to grow in our zoe?

            We don’t need to fear any physical evil if we focus on the prize. Some of you may remember the TV show “Fear Factor” where contestants would have to eat live worms or skydive off of tall buildings. The challenges were, frankly, terrifying – but they were able to accomplish them because they focused on the prize ($50,000). If we focus on the prize – eternity with God – then everything we need to do to get there becomes tolerable and pleasant. Nothing in this world can trouble us if our eyes are fixed on eternity.

            Listen to the words of St. John Chrysostom: “The waters have risen and severe storms are upon us, but we do not fear drowning, for we stand firmly upon a rock. Let the sea rage, it cannot break the rock. Let the waves rise, they cannot sink the boat of Jesus. What are we to fear? Death? “Life to me means Christ, and death is gain.” Exile? “The earth and its fullness belong to the Lord.” The confiscation of goods? “We brought nothing into this world, and we shall surely take nothing from it.” I have only contempt for the world’s threats, I find its blessings laughable. I have no fear of poverty, no desire for wealth. I am not afraid of death nor do I long to live, except for your good.” Here is a man who practiced what he preached – he was exiled for his staunch defense of the Catholic faith.

            So what does this mean for us, practically? There are a lot of things that might cause us fear in today’s society – coronavirus, politics, finances, the mess that is America. Some people lose their peace because of these things – they live in fear, and they grow angry or worried. But all of these things are temporary. They deal with our bios but not our zoe.

If your fear of coronavirus is preventing you from encountering Jesus in the Eucharist, that fear is not from God! If your focus on politics or social media is preventing you from having peace in your heart and love toward your neighbor, then eliminate those things from your life! If you fear death or if you fear the future, make acts of trust in God and ask Him to increase your faith! A true Christian, with his heart set on eternity, does not fear death or sickness, poverty or chaos. All things are passing – God alone remains.

            In the words of St. John Vianney, “The eyes of the world see no further than this life, but the eyes of the Christian see deep into eternity.”

Corpus Christi Sunday Homily

Homily for Corpus Christi

June 14, 2020

Eucharistic Hunger

 

            Welcome back into church! It is so good to see faces instead of empty wooden seats. How fitting it is that we resume our worship on this feast day, Corpus Christi! This is the day that we celebrate the very gift that brings us together every Sunday: the Lord’s Body and Blood in the Holy Eucharist.

            Over these past three months, I have heard from many parishioners who have said, “Oh, Father, we’ve been live-streaming Masses and doing the readings, but something’s missing!” That is a profound intuition – something is missing. The Catechism calls the Eucharist the “source and summit” of our Faith – the Church cannot exist without the Eucharist. When the ancient Romans persecuted Christians, the Faith continued to grow – because they continued to celebrate the Eucharist in secret. By contrast, the Catholic faith had already made good inroads into Japan in the sixteenth century – over 130,000 converts – but when persecution cracked down, the churches shrunk and barely survived. What is the difference? The Japanese persecution deported or killed every single priest in the land, so for three centuries there was no Eucharist. Without the Eucharist, the Church could not grow.

            But if the Eucharist is so essential, why did God allow it to be taken away from us? Never before in history has there been zero public Masses in a country. 196 dioceses in the USA, over 17,000 parishes…and not a single public Mass. Why? Why did God do this? I can identify three reasons.

            First, to teach us the value of the Eucharist. One of the best movies ever is The Sandlot (“you’re killing me, Smalls!”). If you’ve never seen it, it’s about a kid named Scotty Smalls who moves into a new town and is trying to make friends, but all the boys are playing baseball. Problem is – he knows nothing about baseball. So he tries to fit in and play with them, and when they happen to lose the ball by knocking it into the yard with the vicious dog, Scott tries to be helpful by grabbing a ball from his dad’s trophy case. They end up playing with that ball for a while until it, too, is knocked over the fence…and only then do they realize it was a ball signed by Babe Ruth! The boy had never heard of the great Yankee, so he thought it was just a regular ball.

When you don’t know what something is, it doesn’t have much meaning. If someone did not know what the Eucharist was, it would seem to be ordinary bread. But once we realize that it is the true Flesh and Blood of God, it suddenly becomes the most valuable thing in the universe. These past three months made us realize how much we missed the Eucharist. We felt like something was missing – and now we come back with greater appreciation for how truly awesome is this gift.

When we realize the value of the Eucharist, our lives change. I was reading about a man named Paul Comtois, who was the lieutenant governor of Quebec in the ‘60s. He was also a devout Catholic who had obtained the very rare permission to keep the Blessed Sacrament in his house, so he could pray before Him daily. One day, his house caught on fire at midnight. Paul made sure his entire family was out safely, but then went back into the burning building to rescue the Eucharist. He ended up being trapped in the burning building, dying from the flames, but he died clutching the Eucharist to his chest and was able to save the Lord. There is a man who recognizes the true value of the Blessed Sacrament! This time of quarantine has hopefully instilled in us the realization that the Eucharist is truly the most valuable thing in the universe.

A second reason why we lost the Eucharist is so that we would be filled with a Eucharistic hunger. Have you felt a hunger for Jesus’ Eucharistic presence? May we always burn with such a hunger and never take Him for granted. Common things tend to become mundane – recently I visited a friend who lives in upstate New York, in this breathtaking valley in the Catskills, with huge mountains towering around her farm. I couldn’t help exclaiming how amazing it was – I just wanted to marinate in the beauty! But she responded, somewhat bored, “Oh, yeah, I guess it is pretty nice.” She sees it every day, so it has lost its magnificence! Perhaps receiving the Eucharist every Sunday has lost its savor for you? Perhaps we think, “Oh, yeah, I guess we’ve got to go to Mass again. Ho-hum. I hope that homily is pretty short.” Wait –we have the awe-inspiring privilege to worship the True Flesh and Blood of the God of the Universe. Not even angels can receive the Body of Christ! I pray that this time of Eucharistic hunger has increased our desire for His Flesh and Blood, and that we never take it for granted again.

A final reason why God may have taken away the Eucharist is because across our nation every Sunday, the Eucharist is being blasphemed and insulted – by sacrilegious Communions. What does that mean? It means receiving the Eucharist in the state of mortal sin. Listen to the words of St. Paul from 1 Cor 11: “Whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of Christ eat and drink judgment on themselves.” Paul says that if we eat the Body of the Lord with mortal sin on our soul, we are guilty of sinning, profaning, spitting upon the Body of Christ! If we don’t recognize the King of Kings in the Eucharist, we eat and drink judgment upon ourselves! Those are strong words – but they are truth, and are rarely spoken of in today’s Church.

Consider the case of Judas. When he betrayed Our Lord, he did so in a surprising way. He didn’t point to Him, or punch Him…he kissed Him. This action which should have been an action of love was actually a profound act of hatred. In the same way, receiving Our Lord is the greatest act of love we could perform, but if done with mortal sin on our soul, the action becomes one that leads to our condemnation. We would never put the Eucharist into the mud, right? Then why would Our Lord want to wallow in the filth of a soul in mortal sin? We need to make sure we have no mortal sin on our soul – mortal sin includes intentionally missing Mass on Sunday (when it’s an obligation – the obligation is currently suspended at the moment), getting drunk or using drugs, or any sexual activity outside of marriage, including looking at impure pictures. Every Sunday across the country, the Eucharist is received unworthily by people who do not know or do not care, and for this reason the Lord has deprived us of His Body and Blood for the last three months. Let us make sure only to receive His Body in the state of grace!

As much as we have missed receiving Jesus, Jesus has missed giving Himself to us infinitely more. It is the burning desire of His Sacred Heart to provide His Flesh and Blood to holy souls for their nourishment. Let us always be well-prepared and hungry to receive Him!

Trinity Sunday Homily - June 7, 2020

Homily for Trinity Sunday

June 7, 2020

In the Name of the Father

            We all know a great deal about the Son of God, Jesus Christ, and last week we heard all about the Third Person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit. But what about God the Father? Who is He, and what is His role to play? On this Trinity Sunday, I’d like to look at three things: the role of God the Father, our relationship to Him, and how that relationship should impact our relationships with one another.

            So let us begin: what does it mean to say that God is Father? A couple things. First, it means that God is personal. He’s not like the “Force” in Star Wars. He’s not just an amorphous “spiritual energy” – no, He is deeply personal, which means we can have a real relationship with Him. Also, we call the First Person of the Trinity “Father” because He is the source of all existence in the universe. He is the source of existence in the Trinity (the Son is begotten by Him, and the Spirit proceeds from Him), and He is the source of existence of the world. He is Creator of all that is, and everything that exists only exists because He is existence Itself.

            How beautiful it is to be able to call God “Father”! Once, St. Teresa of Avila tried to meditate on the Our Father. The first day, she meditated on those first two words, “Our Father” – considering how awesome it was that God invited her to call Him Father! That made her the daughter of the Creator! The next day she tried to get further in the prayer, but was still so moved that she could not get past those two words: “Our Father”. Every day for an entire year, she would go to prayer and seek to meditate on the words of the Lord’s prayer, but would always become deeply moved to the point of tears with just those first two words: “Our Father”!

            What an intimate name – to call God “Father”! That means that we are His children! One big difference between Muslims and Christians is that Muslims call God “Allah”, meaning Master, while Christians call God “Abba” – which means Father, or even more intimately, Daddy. It would be unthinkable and blasphemous in any other religion to call God “Father” – and yet this is precisely what Jesus urges us to do. What intimacy! That we are among the family of God!

            I remember reading a touching story about a father who used to come home from work and change out of his work clothes, and then he would invite his kids to go through his work pants’ pockets and keep any treasures they found – a stick of gum, a quarter, a pen, a cuff link. Fathers should be the source of all good things, who bless their children lavishly. Our Heavenly Father, too, is the source of all good things, who lavishes His love upon us. After all, Jesus said, “If you know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Heavenly Father give gifts to you!” Yes, good earthly fathers sometimes discipline their children too, but that is done out of love – just as our Father in Heaven disciplines us, His children, out of love, because He wants us to be holy, like Him.

            In a very significant way, our relationship with God the Father mirrors our relationship with our earthly fathers. If you have had a difficult relationship with your dad – maybe he was absent or abusive – please know that God the Father contains all of the fatherly love that you lacked on this earth. Our desire to have good earthly fathers is because we long for the love of the Heavenly Father. Even if you had an imperfect father on this earth, remember that God the Father has all of the perfections of fatherhood, including infinite love and care for all of His children, including you.

            For all of you who are earthly fathers, then, you have a responsibility to mirror your life on the Heavenly Father. St. Paul instructs men that “I kneel before the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth derives its name.” Fathers must always seek the welfare of their wives and children, sacrificing for them in imitation of the Heavenly Father. Fathers, seek to bless your family as much as God has blessed you – we can’t out-bless God! This includes disciplining your children and teaching them to fear the Lord, but never do so out of anger, but only out of love and a genuine desire for your children to become saints. Cherish your wife and kids, delighting in them, and being generous to them – as God the Father does to us.

            Finally, calling God “Father” means that all of us are brothers and sisters. Thus, our relationships should be marked with charity to all – toward people we don’t like, toward people of a different skin color, toward people of differing political persuasion – all people are our brothers and sisters, if God is our Heavenly Father. No one is excluded from Christian charity. This is the only way to peace in our deeply-divided nation!

            To sum up: to call God “Father” shows us a great deal about who He is – the source of all existence in the universe, and a personal God with whom we can have a relationship. Our relationship to the Father should be one of great trust as His children, as every perfect gift comes from Him. All fathers should seek to imitate the Father, and since we are all His children, we ought to have that same charity toward all. Truly, it is such a blessing to have a God who revealed Himself as “Father”!