Homily for Lent 2 - February 28, 2021

 

Homily for Lent 2

February 28, 2021

Thy Will Be Done

 

            The most dangerous prayer we can ever pray is, “Thy Will Be Done.”

            Why is this dangerous? Because one of our most prized possessions is our will. We have our plans, our desires, our control of our lives. But to surrender our will to God’s will is the very essence of holiness.

            Abraham had to learn this the hard way! We need to look outside of this short first reading to see Abraham’s struggle. God had promised that Abraham would be the father of many nations and would inherit the Promised Land of Israel – but before that could come to fruition, a famine forced him to travel to Egypt. While in Egypt, he was afraid that Pharaoh would try to kill him and steal his wife Sarah, because she was very beautiful. So Abraham told everyone that Sarah was actually his sister – a lack of trust in God that caused him a great deal of suffering! When he finally returned to the land of Israel, Abraham still hadn’t had any descendants so he tried to figure out a way to solve that problem by his own efforts – by having relations with his wife’s servant Hagar. That, too, ended poorly as it infuriated Sarah. Once again, Abraham tried to force God’s promises to come true by his own efforts, instead of trusting in God’s patient, mysterious will.

            So when we come to this first reading of the sacrifice of Isaac, God is asking Abraham, “Are you ready to stop trying to do this your way, and are you willing to trust Me?” Abraham finally does trust God. Consider this: the journey from where he was living to Mount Moriah took him three days. He must have been in anguish, but he had finally surrendered to God enough to keep walking. When he reaches the foot of the mountain, he tells his servants, “The boy and I will go up the mountain to worship, and then we will come back to you” – he knows that somehow, some way, God is going to rescue his son so that both of them return. Then when Isaac asks him, “Father, where is the sacrifice?” Abraham responds, “God Himself will provide the sacrifice” – he knew that somehow God would intervene. He didn’t know how, or when, or why – but Abraham knew God would come through, so he was willing to surrender to God’s plan.

            That can be a scary thing, to give up control of our life. But surrendering our will to God is a necessary key to holiness. One day, Saint Faustina wrote in her diary the words, “From now on, my own will does not exist” and then drew a giant X across the page. On the next page she wrote, “From today on, I do the will of God everywhere, always, and in everything.” This should be the attitude of every Christian.

            So we know we have to surrender, but why? As it says in Dante’s Paradiso, “In His will is our peace.” His plans are much, much better than ours. His will is not mysterious; He has made clear that His will is our holiness, everlasting happiness, and the salvation of the world. That’s a pretty epic plan that is unfolding – and when we surrender our will to His, we participate in this plan, which is far better than our tiny, mundane plans here on earth!

            So how do we surrender to God’s will? Three suggestions.

            First, pray about major decisions. When I was the chaplain at Trinity, I used to ask kids, “So what do you want to do with your life?” Recently, though, I began asking a different question: “What do you think God wants you to do with your life?” Sometimes those questions get very different answers!

            So ask God what His plans are for your life. Before you make a major purchase, or decide where to go to college, or what job to take, or whether or not to have a new child, ask Him. And then listen. God will speak to us through the teachings of the Catholic Church, through the Scriptures, through other people, spiritual books, or even thoughts and memories and emotions He stirs up within us. We must listen with “holy indifference”, as St. Ignatius calls it – without biases or pre-made answers or plans, so that God can truly reveal His will to us.

            A second way to surrender our will to God’s will is to accept whatever God sends, with peace and tranquility. I think of that line from the famous “Serenity Prayer”: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. That traffic jam, this headache, that boring meeting is God’s will for you at this moment. How is God trying to teach us, lead us, and form us through these things He sends? Patiently accepting everything is key to surrendering our will to His.

            Finally, obey God and His teachings, which He has revealed through the Scriptures and the teachings of the Church. Sometimes we think we know better than the Church which Jesus Christ established, and we say, “Well, I know the Church teaches X, but I want to do Y!” To surrender our will to God is also to conform our life to His teachings – whether we understand them or are still wrestling with them. After all, the Psalms say, “Lord, your law is my delight” – my delight, because it leads to deep happiness!

            If you want to be holy…and happy…surrender your will to God’s will. St. Ignatius of Loyola wrote a beautiful prayer of surrender: “Take Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will, all that I have and possess. You have given all to me. To You, O Lord, I return it. All is Yours, do with it according to Your will. Give me Your love and Your grace, for this is enough for me.”

            We will not be asked to sacrifice our first-born child, as Abraham was. But we are asked to sacrifice something of equal value – our desires, our wants, our plans – our very will. Jesus Himself always did the will of His Heavenly Father; may we be able to pray with courage that dangerous prayer, “Lord, Your Will be done.”

Homily for Lent 1 - February 21, 2021

 

Homily for Lent 1

February 21, 2021

The Free Gift of Love

 

            The difference between Christianity and all other religions is that all other religions are man’s search for God, while Christianity is God’s search for man.

            It was He Who took the initiative and sought us out. He extended His hand in friendship through His covenants, which He first swore to Noah, Abraham, Moses, and David. He urged us through the prophets to be faithful to that relationship. But even that wasn’t enough – God was desperate enough for us that He took on flesh to win us back to Him. Upon the Cross, he swore the new and everlasting covenant, written in blood, inscribed by nails, upon the parchment of two beams of wood.

            During Lent, we often focus on things we do for God. We pray, we give things up, we fast, we give generously to the poor. And these things are good – but we do these things only because God acted first – it was He who called to us long before we ever called out His Name; it was He who loved us even before we knew who He was. Everything we do for God is only a response of gratitude for what He has already done for us. Salvation is already purchased, and it is a free gift given to those who receive the gift with gratitude.

            There was a thirteenth-century saint named St. Mechtilde from Germany, who was going through a deep spiritual crisis. She was doubting whether she could be saved. Despite being a nun and consecrating her whole life to God, she feared that her sins were just too overwhelming. For years she went through this trial, until finally she had a vision of Jesus, Who showed His Sacred Heart to her. He told her to observe the great love that burns within His heart, and said, “Consider how great is My Love: [as I said in the Gospel], as the Father loves Me, so I love you.” She was immediately consoled and reflected: if the Father can love Jesus perfectly, so can Jesus love us perfectly, despite our weaknesses!

            Of course, feeling unworthy is not just a problem for the middle ages! Just this past week I spoke with someone who said they felt unworthy of God’s love. I told him, “Yes, you are unworthy. So am I. That’s the point. It’s a free gift – we don’t earn it, we receive it.” We don’t do our Lenten penances to try to earn salvation, or to deserve His love, or be worthy of Him. We can never deserve it, earn it, or be worthy of it. We receive the gift of love and salvation, we delight in it, we live our lives in gratitude for it.

            So this can help us to actually rejoice in our Lenten penances, because our Lenten penances are not our attempts to earn salvation, but a generous response of love to Him Who first loved us. All we need to do is cooperate with the grace He is already giving us freely. Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are three ways to open ourselves to that grace. What a difference it is to realize we don’t have to earn salvation, but only to receive it with open hearts and generous souls!

            One day Saint Francis went missing. His religious brothers looked everywhere, but could not find the saint. A couple days passed, and finally a couple of the brothers found him in the middle of the woods, crying and holding a crucifix. He was calling out over and over again, “Love is not loved! Love is not loved!”

            The immense love of God for us is overwhelming, everlasting, endless. It’s so nice to know that we don’t have to earn it, deserve it, or be worthy of it. All we have to do is accept it with open hearts and grateful lives. The invitation has been offered – will you accept?

Ash Wednesday Homily - 2021

 

Homily for Ash Wednesday 2021

 

            We don’t like to be empty. We want our bellies to be full, our wallets to be full, our schedules to be full, our gas tank to be full.

            But doesn’t food taste better when our stomach’s empty? Doesn’t it feel good to have an empty schedule for the day? Emptiness allows us to open ourselves to the good things of life.

            In the same way, our lives are often so chock-full of stuff that we leave no room for God. God wants to give us a crown of holiness, but first we need to remove the costume jewelry we’re wearing on our heads. God wants to give us tremendous gifts of His love, but we can’t receive them if our hands are full of the things of this world.

            Hence, we come to Lent. The whole reason for Lent is to empty ourselves so that He can fill us.

            We give up physical pleasure like candy or television so that we empty ourselves of slavery to the flesh. It is good to feel the pinch of hunger or boredom – that is an emptiness which can be filled with God.

            We give alms to the poor so that we empty our wallets and closets of things we don’t need. Then, once we have given up the riches of this world, we are empty enough to be filled with true riches of grace.

            We give time to God in prayer, purposely emptying our schedule to make time for that which really matters: our relationship with God. More than that, we empty our pride and our desire to control our own lives, and instead say, “Lord, Your will be done.” And God will give us in return a Father’s love and guidance.

            My friends, this Lent, empty yourself. Give up those counterfeit joys you have been clinging to: the physical pleasure, the riches and the money, the desire for control. Empty yourselves of those things through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, so that God can fill you with everything He wants to give you: true riches, joy, peace, meaning, love, grace…life everlasting.

Homily for Ordinary Time 6 - February 14, 2021

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 6

February 14, 2021

On Kindness

 

            The year was 312, and Pachomius was miserable. He had been drafted into the Roman army against his will, and assigned to patrol in the Egyptian city of Thebes. This was not at all what he wanted to be doing with his life!

            Much to his surprise, though, when he and his legion arrived in Thebes, they were met with a contingent of people offering him free food, clothing, kind words, and smiles. Grateful yet intrigued, he accepted the gifts. Throughout his time in that city, he would frequently encounter these mysterious people who would smile at him, engage him in conversation, and provide food and water. Upon inquiry, he discovered that these people belonged to a foreign religion: Christianity. He was so impressed with their kindness that he promised himself that when he got out of the army, he would investigate this religion.

            A couple years later his tour of duty was up, and he became a Christian, then a hermit, and then a founder of several monasteries, which had up to 7,000 monks at one time. He is now known as St. Pachomius, who was converted due to the kindness of Christians.

            What attracted people to Jesus? We see in the Gospel that huge crowds are flocking to Him in these deserted places. Yes, in part it was because He could perform incredible miracles, but those miracles were performed because Jesus first was “moved with compassion”. It was His compassion and kindness that prompted the miracles – virtues that were equally as rare back then as they are today!

            Even St. Paul speaks of kindness in our second reading – he urges all to live in peace, without unnecessarily offending anyone, so that the Gospel may not be blamed.

            When we speak of the virtue of kindness, however, I want to make a distinction between being kind and being nice. Being nice means never being controversial, never taking a stand. But kindness is more than that – it means to treat people with the dignity they deserve as children of God. Niceness is not a virtue – it is actually a weakness because it means we don’t want to be bothered with conflict (or we’re afraid of “rocking the boat”). Kindness is a virtue, and it is one that requires great strength and courage.

            Why does kindness require strength and courage? Because it means we look beyond a person’s external attributes to see the Image of God contained within. Jesus didn’t see a leper – He saw a beloved soul that He was going to die for. He looked beyond the disfiguring, disgusting disease and instead saw a person. This takes strength and courage and self-denial, because it’s much easier to treat someone based upon surface-level attributes.

            Can we have that same kindness of Christ? It requires us to look beyond the annoying habits, the strange mannerisms, the accent, the background, the sinful behavior, the incorrect political views, the immigration status, the mean attitude – and see the person whom Christ died for. But to be like Christ, we must have the kindness of Christ – and our Christian goal is to be “imitators of Christ” as St. Paul tells us.

            So my challenge to you is this: this week, be kind. See the person behind the external appearance, and treat them like the Image of God that they carry within them. Jesus’ kindness healed the leper – our kindness can help people live in the dignity they deserve as children of God!

Homily for Ordinary Time 5 - February 7, 2021

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 5

February 7, 2021

God In Desolation

 

            “Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery?” Perhaps Job was thinking of February in Connecticut, as the cold and the snow and the Coronavirus start to weigh us down!

            But truthfully there are many things that are a drudgery to us – maybe a chronic illness, or a lousy job, maybe depression or anxiety, or a class that we hate. When faced with such drudgery, we have two choices. One, we can try to just grit our teeth and get through it, trying to distract ourselves from how miserable we are by little pleasures and indulgences. Or, we could invite God into that drudgery and find meaning in the suffering.

            The first option is only temporary, because we can never eliminate suffering in this life. Even the people that Jesus cured in the Gospels would get sick again and die. So the second option – inviting God into that suffering and finding meaning in it – is better and longer-lasting. Notice that Jesus didn’t stay in that village to become their doctor – no, He said He needed to go to the other villages primarily to preach – because He did not come to remove our sufferings, but to give us faith, which gives meaning to our suffering.

            During the Nazi era, an Austrian Jewish psychologist named Viktor Frankl was imprisoned in Auschwitz. In addition to putting many Jewish prisoners to death, the Nazis forced healthy Jewish men to work extremely hard in miserable conditions: laying railroad tracks, digging trenches, and other backbreaking labor, for long hours in hot sun and freezing snow, with little food and no rest. It was an existence of utter drudgery, and many men began to give up their will to live.

            Viktor was heading out one morning on the way to yet another day of misery, feeling much like Job, when he was startled out of his hopeless thoughts by a chuckle from another prisoner. The other man looked at him and said, “If only our wives could see us now!” This thought gave Viktor the strength to persevere – when he thought of his wife, he could endure any suffering. Later, when released from Auschwitz, he wrote: “Love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire. [This is] the greatest secret that human thought has to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love.”

            Love gives meaning to suffering. We can suffer anything if we have someone to suffer for. So the question is: if suffering is going to come anyway, why not turn that suffering into love? After all, St. Padre Pio said, “The proof of love is to suffer for the one you love.”

            Three things to remember as we seek meaning in our everyday suffering:

            First, God suffers with us. The word “compassion” means “to suffer with” – so when it says in the Psalm that God “heals the brokenhearted,” He is right there, with us, in the midst of our everyday trials. Suffering is a share in Jesus’ cross, which brings us close to Him. Mother Teresa once said: “Suffering, pain, sorrow, humiliation, feelings of loneliness, are nothing but the kiss of Jesus, a sign that you have come so close to Jesus on the Cross that he can kiss you. I once told this to a lady who was suffering very much. She answered, ‘Tell Jesus to stop kissing me!’” A very human reaction! But it’s true – we are never closer to Jesus than when we are on the Cross with Him, and if we unite our suffering to His on the Cross out of love for Him, then we literally participate in His work of saving the world! This should give us comfort and consolation on those dark days.

            Second, suffering is meant for us to become like Christ! Sometimes we feel like God has abandoned us or does not love us because we are suffering, but the opposite is true – as it says in Scripture, “He whom the Lord loves, He corrects.” As Protestant Pastor Rick Warren likes to say, “God cares more about your character than your comfort,” and it is through suffering that our imperfections are weeded out – and that can be a painful process. It is through drudgery that we are trained in patience, courage, humility, perseverance, sacrifice. Suffering can make us bitter, or it can make us better – like a master sculptor, allow God to use the chisel of suffering on your life so that He can make a masterpiece of holiness out of you.

            Finally, it is perfectly fine to seek legitimate relief from suffering, but always with an eye to the eternal joy promised to believers. If someone has physical pain, they can definitely take a painkiller – but never forget that we will receive back a glorified body at the end of time. If someone suffers from depression, they can speak to a therapist and take medication – while remembering that God will wipe away every tear from our faces in Heaven. If someone is aching from loneliness, they can certainly reach out to friends – while keeping their eyes fixed on union with God, our greatest Love.

            I close with the story of a saint who knew more suffering than most of us: Blessed Herman the Cripple. He was born in 1013 with spinal bifida, a cleft palate, and cerebral palsy – he was so deformed that his parents didn’t want him, and they abandoned him on the doorstep of a local Benedictine monastery. The Benedictines took him in and taught him about the love of God. Despite his physical and speech handicaps and the emotional pain of being abandoned by his parents, he had a keen intellect, and quickly advanced in his studies. He became an expert in many fields – writing books on history and theology, doing complex astronomical calculations, learning multiple languages. He went blind later in life, and because of that, he began to compose hymns, including some of the greatest in our Catholic treasury like the Salve Regina and Come Holy Spirit. Rather than become bitter, he surrendered his sufferings to God in love, and became a great scholar, scientist, author, poet…and saint.

Look at what God can do in the life of one who suffers for love of Him!