Ordinary Time 16 - How To Pray As We Ought

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 16

July 23, 2023

The Spirit of All Desire

 

            So St. Paul tells us that the Spirit helps us to pray in our weakness. But prayer is easy, right? I mean, little kids can do it, so how hard can it be?

            But what marks the proper way to pray? It’s not saying the right words or folding our hands a certain way. Yes, anyone can do those things. But prayer ought to be about one thing: desire. At its core, prayer is desiring God.

            St. Augustine once said, “The whole life of a good Christian is a holy longing. Now what you long for, you do not yet see: but by longing, you are made capable [of being filled].” He uses the analogy of a cloth or leather bag – if you want to fit something valuable into the bag, you first stretch out the bag so that it can fit the large object. So Our Lord wants us to stretch our desire so that our souls are prepared to receive Him.

            And for this we need the Holy Spirit. It is God Who puts the desire for Himself within our hearts. This is why the Spirit intercedes with prayers “too deep for words”, as St. Paul says. Because what we pray with words should correspond to the desire of our souls. I’m not talking about desiring material things, as if our prayer should be all about, “Oh Lord, I reeeeeeally want that new car!”, but rather desiring God.

            Have you ever felt a longing for something more than the passing trifles of this life? Have you ever seen beauty – such as a mountaintop or a piece of music – and been pierced with delight? In a quiet moment, have you ever wondered what life is all about? Have you ever wanted to grow closer to the Lord, to become a saint? If so, then you have tasted the Holy Spirit in your life, because you have had a desire for Him – and it is He Who puts that desire in your heart.

            The Holy Spirit stirs up the hunger in our hearts so that we want God. But maybe you’re sitting there thinking, “I have no idea how to desire God, or even if I want to. How can I desire Him?” There are two things we can do to grow in a desire for God.

            The first is to empty ourselves. To hunger for something means that we are empty of other things. These last couple weeks we have been talking about St. Paul’s discussion on the body and the world. While the body and the world are both good in themselves, if our life is filled with pleasure and distraction and riches, we will never feel the hunger for God. In fact, a person may feel a disgust for prayer and for God if they are too filled with the things of this world.

            When I was a young boy, my family moved to England for a few months for my dad’s job. The flight to England was delayed, so as compensation, the airline gave each of us a $75 credit for food in the airport – with the caveat that we had to eat it all that night. I remember my parents sitting us down at the restaurant and ordering a ton of food – and basically forcing us to eat it! We were stuffed beyond belief, to the point that food was repulsive to us. But when you’re hungry, food is an incredible delight, and there’s nothing more satisfying than a good meal on an empty stomach.

            Our Bishop once told me that the number-one way Satan draws people away from God in today’s modern world is distraction. So many people would become great saints if they allowed themselves the time and space to feel the desire for more than this life can offer! Instead, any time we feel any loneliness, emptiness, desire, longing, we immediately distract ourselves by scrolling Instagram or texting someone or watching a cat video on Youtube.

            But saints have been made through a holy longing – St. Patrick is one such example. Patrick was a wealthy, strong British teenager in the 400s when his village was attacked by Celtic barbarians from Ireland. They captured Patrick, took him back to Ireland, and enslaved him, forcing him to become a shepherd for six long years. He lost his family, his wealth, his comfort…and in that emptiness, in his constant hunger and cold and loneliness, he began to discover God. He later wrote that the only thing he could do on those long nights spent out in the fields was to pray – first with words only, but then without words, just with his soul longing for God! After six years, he managed to make a daring escape and return to England, but he had been so utterly transformed by the experience that he was now a faithful man of God. We know the rest of the story – he became a bishop and then returned to his former captors, becoming the great evangelist of the Emerald Isle. So, like him, we can stop distracting ourselves and filling our life with empty trinkets, and allow the longings, the loneliness, the desires, the restlessness to drive us to the Lord.

            But what if you still don’t have the desire? Listen to the words of St. Alphonsus Liguori:  “If you do not desire [God], then, certainly, you will never become a Saint. But if you have not this desire, ask Jesus Christ for it: ask Mary for it.” This is why Paul says that the Holy Spirit helps us pray as we ought. We can say to the Holy Spirit, “Give me a greater longing for God! Give me a hunger, a desire for Him!” Be honest and say, “I don’t yet feel any desire for You, Lord, but I want to. Put that desire in my heart.” He absolutely will!

            If we desire happiness, we desire God. If we desire beauty, we desire God. If we desire a virtuous life, we desire God. So when we pray, don’t just say words. Speak your desire for God – and we will be confident that, through the Holy Spirit stirring up the hunger within us, we will “pray as we ought”.

Ordinary Time 15 - The World Is Our Ship, Not Our Home

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 15

July 16, 2023

The World Is Your Ship, Not Your Home

 

            Growing up, our family loved to go camping. We started out with an old canvas tent, about a hundred pounds. If it ever rained, we weren’t allowed to touch the canvas fabric, or else the water would pour through. Definitely rustic. Then we got a pop-up camper, which we had to crank to set it up and pull out the beds. But recently my parents bought an RV, complete with a TV, air conditioning, and a microwave. That’s not camping – it’s glamping (glamour camping). In my opinion, it’s a bit of overkill for something we’re going to only use for a couple days every now and then.

            But that’s the way a lot of people live their lives – overkill for things that are only temporary. St. Therese of Lisieux reminds us, “The world is your ship, not your home.” A temporary shelter like a tent should be comfortable enough, but not so comfortable that we want to live there forever, because we’re not finished our journey yet. We’re on a journey to Heaven, and this world is only our ship, not our home.

            Last week we considered St. Paul’s insights on the battle between our fallen flesh and our soul. Today, he continues the discussion with the world and its relationship to the soul.

            Like the flesh, the world is also good, but fallen. But why is the world fallen? Because human beings were supposed to be the guardians and stewards of this earth. God put Adam and Eve in the garden to take care of it, to rule it in His Name. And when we had sinned, we gave away the keys to the garden to the Evil One. Since then, as St. Paul says, “all of creation is subject to futility, groaning in labor pains.” Death, chaos, and suffering enter the world.

            And we deal with this on a regular basis. Ever been frustrated with a car breaking down, joints creaking as we get out of bed, an unexpected tax bill, your computer freezing up at the worst possible moment? We have an intuition that this isn’t how the world is supposed to work. There is a principle in the scientific world called entropy – it means that the universe tends towards chaos and disorder. Consider – is it easier to clean something or to make a mess? Judging by the state of my car, messes are far easier. So in this world that’s so full of disorder, chaos, mess, brokenness, suffering, pain…I think it’s easy enough to understand what St. Paul is saying.

            This world will never be a utopia, as much as we may try. More laws, more policies, more bumper stickers and more Instagram posts about kindness are not going to make this world perfect. Despite what the song says, we don’t build the city of God – He builds it at the end of time when all things are restored and made whole.

            Does that mean we just have to watch helplessly as the world goes to heck in a handbasket? Not at all. As Christians we are called to make the world a better place, but with an eye to eternity. Two of the greatest missionaries the Church has ever seen was Sts. Cosmas and Damien, who were brothers and doctors. They embraced Christianity and decided to bring souls to Christ in a unique way – they would offer their medical services without payment. This so shocked the people of Syria that they gained the nicknames “The Moneyless Ones” – and people were so intrigued by their lack of greed that they began to ask why. The brothers then had the opportunity to share the Gospel with them, and they gained many converts. They made this world a better place, but kept their eye on eternity.

            And there’s the key – we use this world with an eye to eternity. In Homer’s famous poem Odyssey, the character Odysseus is trying to return home after a long and trying journey. He and his men stop off at the Island of the Lotus Eaters, where the inhabitants ate the lotus flower which brought them to a state of contented apathy. Some of Odysseus’ men eat the flower, and suddenly forget any urgency in their journey. They decide to stay instead of heading home. Odysseus has to force his men back to the ship to continue their journey.

            So many Christians are so taken in with the things of this world that they forget they’re on a journey headed home. We’ve eaten the lotus flowers, and are suddenly content when we should be restless. After all, as St. Augustine said, “You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.”

            So what must we do? We use this world without clinging to it. Our bank accounts, our house, our job, our talents, our relationships are only good insofar as they advance us along the path to eternity.

            A high-powered lawyer named Dale Recinella and his wife had just built their dream house when they happened to step into Mass one morning. The Gospel featured Jesus saying, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the Kingdom of God!” That night, he was rather disturbed and asked his wife, “Do you think Jesus really meant what He said?” They decided to pray on it, and come back in six months to reevaluate. Six months later, Dale and his wife realized that, yes, Jesus really was telling them that they had to choose between their multimillion-dollar house and His Kingdom. But they dallied and did nothing about it.

            A year later, Dale found himself mysteriously in the hospital with a high fever. A battery of tests showed that the raw oysters he consumed the night before contained a deadly flesh-eating bacteria, and the doctors told him he had twelve hours to live. That night, as he prepared for death, he fell into a coma. He recounts that he awoke in a room with Jesus Christ. Our Lord asked him, “What have you done with the gifts I have given you?” He began to be defensive, saying, “Well, I sent my kids to the best schools, and made sure my family was financially secure…” Jesus just looked at him and replied, “What about all of My people who are suffering?”

            Much to everyone’s surprise, he awoke the next morning and immediately convinced his wife to sell their dream house and to start giving their money away to charities. He began to volunteer his time ministering to prisoners on death row, bringing them the hope of Jesus Christ, which he does full-time now that he’s retired. Truly all the sufferings he had to undergo through his illness and giving up his dream life are nothing compared to the glory to be revealed when Christ restores all things in Him.

            We walk through this world, enjoying it responsibly, seeking to improve it – but not being distracted by its glitter, but rather keep moving towards eternity. After all, this world is our ship, not our home.

Ordinary Time 14 - The Body and the Soul

 

Homily for July 9, 2023

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Flesh and the Spirit

 

            St. Paul contrasts two seeming opposites in the Second Reading: the flesh, and the spirit. Our bodies, and our souls. He says that they are at war with each other, and that we have to live according to the spirit and not the flesh. But what does he mean by that? Let’s explore this interplay between body and spirit and understand what it means for Christians.

            Back in the second and third century, there was a heresy called Gnosticism. This heresy believed that the body, and the whole material world was evil, created by the devil. The Church quickly and wholeheartedly rejected this idea! The body is good, as it was created by God. Throughout history, saints have taken care of the needs of the body – like St. Elizabeth of Hungary, the queen who used to take food to the poor…St. Camillus de Lellis who founded hospitals…Mother Teresa who spent her life taking care of those who were physically suffering. So, the Church has always recognized that the body was good, as it was created by God.

            But our bodies are not our own, to do whatever we want with them. Some people believe that our bodies is a “tool” that we can manipulate however we want, or even a “prison” that entraps our real self. But, as Pope John Paul II said in his Theology of the Body, “The body expresses the person.” We don’t have bodies, we are bodies. Our bodies are how we make incarnate our humanity, how we interface with the world around us.

            So for this reason, we have an obligation to take care of our bodies. We are stewards, not owners. We ought to take care of it with good eating, proper rest, healthy exercise. Of course, we can overdo that and fall into what John Paul II calls the “Cult of the Body” (such as tech tycoon Bryan Johnson who spends over $2 million each year on a team of 30 doctors in an attempt to make himself feel perpetually young…that would be a bit obsessive!). So, it’s a balance. We ought to also give thanks for how God made us, whether male of female, tall or short, large or small, with a full head of hair or going bald! He doesn’t make mistakes, and our bodies are all His handiwork. While this body is temporary, we will receive it back in a glorified form at the end of time to share in the joys of Heaven, if we are among the Blessed.

            Despite the goodness of the body, however, like all of creation, the body is fallen and subject to original sin. There is an effect of original sin called concupiscence, which we all experience. Concupiscence means that we desire harmful things. Our desires are disordered – we do things we know aren’t going to lead to true happiness. For example, have you ever been to an all-you-can eat buffet? If you’re like me, you go up time and time again until you’re stuffed and buttons are popping off your shirt…and then you look up and see the dessert table. I know that the dessert table will cause me immense pain and suffering, but I do it anyway. That is the reality of concupiscence – the weakness of will by which the disordered desires of our flesh have mastery over us.

            The flesh is meant to be a servant under the mastery of our will, but because of concupiscence, we find it to be quite the opposite, and we start to desire things that are disordered. Too much food, too much alcohol, too much sleep at the wrong time, sexual pleasure outside of marriage, addictions to social media, comfort when we need to be sacrificing, avoiding the necessary sufferings of our vocation. All of us find that our flesh is fallen and often overpowers our will.

            We like to use the excuse, “Oh, but this is how God made me.” No, God did not make us fallen – that was the result of sin. As human beings, we have the ability to master our desires, and to order them properly. We master them through our free will, and we put them in the proper order through our intellect. The order of our desires should be to desire God first above all else, to desire to love and worship and obey Him, then to desire to concretely sacrifice ourselves for others. Unfortunately we often see our desires topsy-turvy where we desire our glory, wealth, power, and pleasure over these properly-ordered desires.

            So when St. Paul talks about “the flesh” waging war against the spirit, he is speaking about this question of self-mastery. Will our disordered fleshly desires have mastery over our souls, or will our bodies be good servants of what we truly know to be good and holy and beautiful?

            We grow in this self-mastery through discipline and training. Consider the example of a martial artist. Their hands can give someone a wave, a high-five, a hug…and can be registered as deadly weapons in several jurisdictions in the United States. So how do they discipline themselves to use their hands well? First they train their mind to understand the teachings and concepts of their martial art. In the same way, our first step is to train our minds to understand the Scriptures and the unchanging teaching of the Church about how best to live a life where our bodies and our wills are submissive to Christ. After we train our minds, then we train our wills through practice. The martial artist will practice, over and over again, until they can use their hands to break boards or take down a bad guy. We train ourselves through practicing virtue, practicing sacrifice, denying our flesh and its unruly desires. Eventually it will become second nature to make sure our physical desires are submitted to God’s will.

            And here’s the key – we can only do this with the grace of God. It’s not a “white knuckle” oh-I’m-just-not-going-to-overeat. It’s a radical surrender to Him, with His help. Paul says that it is “His Spirit in you” that has freed us from slavery to our physical desires. So let us live in that freedom, won for us in Christ, so that our fallen flesh may not rule us, but that it might serve us – and Christ – to become redeemed and free!

Ordinary Time 13 - To Die With Christ Is To Rise

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 13

July 2, 2023

Romans Series 1 of 4 – To Die With Christ Is to Rise With Him

 

            During the month of July, I will be preaching a four-part series on our second readings, all of which come from the book of Romans. Paul’s writings are such rich reflections on the Christian life that I want to dive into them! So, let us begin!

            One time, the Catholic Scripture scholar Dr. Jeff Cavins was invited to give a talk about the Bible…to a group of inmates in jail. He was a little apprehensive, but agreed to do it. When he walked into the room, full of tattooed thugs, all scowling at him, he sensed that some of them were quite resistant.

            He began the talk, when one of the gang members in the front row interrupted him, “Hey, Dr. Cavins, are you scared of us?”

            “Why should I be scared of you?”

            “Because we could kill you if we wanted to.”

            Jeff Cavins just laughed and said, “You can’t kill me.”

            “Of course we could.”

            He shook his head and said, “No, you can’t. When I gave my life to Christ, I died with Him, and you can’t kill a dead man!”

            That got a grudging laugh from the crowd, and it made them realize that he really did believe what he was preaching – and they became quite receptive to his message!

            St. Paul says an odd thing – that by our baptism, we have died with Christ. Our old selves, our sinful nature, has been put to death, and we have been raised to live a new life with Christ. Jesus reemphasizes this point in the Gospel: those who seek to truly live must first be willing to die with Him. This more than just life-as-usual with a few prayers sprinkled on top – it truly means that our life must be one of continual dying to all that is earthly and sinful, so that all that is Heavenly and Christ-like may arise in us.

            What does it mean to die with Christ? Four things must die. First, we must die to our ego. Recently I came across a Christian sports academy in Kentucky called “I Am Third” – they encourage kids to realize that, as great as they are, they’re only third – Christ is first, and others are second. What a far cry from those celebrities like Muhammed Ali who declared, “I’m the greatest of all time!” or the influencer Andrew Tate who declares himself “the Top G” (as in, the best at everything). As our ego and our pride dies, Christ begins to take life within us.

            A second thing that must die is our inordinate desires for the things of this world. People often ask why priests wear black, and it’s because the pasta sauce stains don’t show up! Of course I’m kidding – we wear black to show that we are dead to the things of this world, and alive for Christ alone. Every Christian should make sure their desires are ordered properly – it’s great to enjoy ice cream, but maybe not on a Friday in Lent…it’s wonderful to enjoy the gift of marital love, but only within the covenant of matrimony, open to life…it’s great to get a new car, but not to let it consume our thoughts and to take away from our obligations of generosity to the poor. All of our desires for good things in the wrong way, or at the wrong time need to be put to death, so that our desires to enjoy the good things of earth will also lead us to the better things of Heaven.

            A third thing that must die is holding on to our past and our future. St. Padre Pio said, “My past to Your mercy o Lord, my present to Your love, and my future to Your providence.” Any shame we have from our past mistakes must be drowned in the ocean of God’s mercy; any anger and grudges from past hurts must be buried in the tomb, that we may walk out with freedom. Similarly, any anxiety of the future must be overwhelmed with trust in He Who holds our future in His hands. We must shed our desire to control the future and hold onto the past.

            A fourth, and most important, element of ourselves that must die is our vices and sins. Recently I was speaking with a friend who had a heart attack three years ago, in his late 30s. He was telling me that his life changed pretty drastically after he flat-lined during a run. Thankfully he collapsed right outside the home of a nurse, who happened to be looking out the window at that moment, and she quickly got him medical attention so that he was able to recover. But his life was changed pretty drastically – he began to conform his life to Christ, to give up fighting with his wife and growing angry with his children, to become less lazy in his prayer life. It took a kind of death to get him to die to his old self. But all Christians are called to put to death these sinful vices, since we have already died in baptism, and given a second chance to live for Him. So those sinful vices that we had inherited from Adam and Eve must be put to death, that Christ may live in us.

            I recently read about a beautiful saint who lived this out: Blessed Mary Magdalene of the Incarnation. She was born to a wealthy merchant, but she was very drawn to prayer in her youth. However, her father discouraged her relationship with Christ, and urged her to focus on her looks and on attracting the attention of the boys. Through his influence, she slowly started giving up her Christ-centered life, and began to seek the petty vanities of this world. One day when she was seventeen, her boyfriend gave her a fine necklace of expensive jewels, and when she put them on and looked in a mirror, instead of seeing her own reflection, she saw Christ crucified, who gazed upon her and asked her, “Do you wish to leave Me for the world?”

            She was shocked to her senses and remembered that at one time she had wanted to become a saint. She took some time away from her boyfriend to think and pray, and went on a retreat at a local convent of nuns – and as soon as she walked into the convent, she felt a peace and a joy she had never before experienced. She decided to remain there, and became known for her great love of Eucharistic Adoration, spending long hours in front of the Blessed Sacrament in joyful prayer for the needs of the world. She had seen both a life lived for the world and a life lived for Christ – and found one to be infinitely richer and more joyful.

            And that old life, of sin and pride and worldly pursuits, must be put to death so that Christ may live in and through us.