Easter 4 - Sharing in the Mission of the Church

 

Homily for Easter 4 – Good Shepherd Sunday

April 26, 2026

Sharing In the Mission of the Church

 

            The sign that a plant or an animal is mature is that it can reproduce. And the sign that a Christian has a mature faith is that they can also reproduce – by making other Christians.

            It is often said that the Church does not have a mission, the Church is a mission. The mission of the Church is very simple – Jesus outlines it in Matthew 28 when He says, “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them, and teaching them to observe all I have commanded you.” So the Church’s mission is threefold: to evangelize (make disciples), celebrate the Sacraments, and catechize (teach others how to follow Jesus).

            But the Church’s mission is not just for priests and nuns – it is for every Christian! If you’ve received the Sacrament of Confirmation, you are both empowered and required to bring souls to Christ – the entire point of that Sacrament is to make you a missionary in your own life!

            But let’s ask – why is it necessary for a mature Christian to have a hunger for souls? Because if we love Jesus, we must love what He loves – and what does He love more than anything? Souls! He would do anything to purchase our souls, even to death. St. John Bosco, who ran a boarding school for poor boys in Turin, Italy, had the following phrase inscribed over the door of his school: “Da Mihi Animas, Cetera Tolle” – Give me souls, take away all the rest. When young St. Dominic Savio walked through the door and read the motto, he immediately understood and said, “Ah, here your business is not to make money, but to make saints!”

            Jesus makes a pretty radical claim: that He is “the way, the truth, and the life.” He is not one truth among many or just one way to live your life. No, there is an exclusivity in what He claims – He is the only One who leads to Heaven, and that His Church is the only true religion. In fact, we believe that “outside the Church there is no salvation.” Does this mean that only baptized Catholics go to Heaven? Not necessarily. Rather, it means that anyone who is saved is saved in and through Jesus Christ – not through their own religion, deity, or spiritual practice – and that the Catholic Church has the fullness of what Christ taught and the best access to Him. This radical claim should spur us on to want to bring every soul to Jesus in the Catholic Faith. We were beggars who have found spiritual food in the Eucharist, so we turn to the hungry around us to share this feast.

            How do we do this? Our three readings give us the three ways to participate in the mission of the Church for souls. First, by prayer and suffering for souls. St. Peter’s letter, which we read as our second reading, speaks to us of the great good of suffering well, in union with Christ’s suffering. If Christ’s suffering saved the world, then our suffering can also help Him save souls. Not that we can add anything to Christ’s sufferings, but since we are members of the Body of Christ, we are applying Christ’s sufferings to Monroe in 2026. Christ wants to suffer and pray in and through us for souls, here and now, because we as Christians are called to extend the presence of Christ throughout history and throughout the world.

            Here’s an example. When St. Therese of Lisieux was in her teen years in France in the 1800s, she had a burning desire to pray for the conversion of sinners. One day, she happened to read in her father’s newspaper that a horrendous crime had been committed: a man named Henri Pranzini was found guilty of murder and would be executed in a few days. Therese made it her mission to pray and sacrifice for this man, especially praying that the Precious Blood from the Wounds of Christ would grant him the grace of repentance. But Pranzini showed no signs of repentance – he turned down the offer of Confession, and continued to grow angrier and more hateful as the fateful day approached. As Therese read the paper daily to check on his status, she only increased her prayers more and more fervently. Finally, the day arrived – and Pranzini was led to the guillotine, executed for his crime. The following day, Therese desperately checked the paper – and lo and behold, the article on the front page described Pranzini standing on the scaffolding, holding a crucifix and kissing the Sacred Wounds three times before his death! He had repented, at the last possible moment! Therese saw that as the answer to her prayer – the power of fasting and sacrificing for souls!

            But prayer should be coupled with words and deeds. Today’s first reading shows Peter using such powerful words that over 3,000 people were baptized that very day! (His arm must have been very tired from all those baptisms!) Notice that Peter did two things as he preached: he invited, and he explained. He gives very specific instructions: repent, be baptized, believe in the Lord Jesus. We, too, should be concrete in our invitations: “Hey, want to go to Sunday Mass together?” “I know you’re struggling with something, could we pray together?” “You look like you could use some peace and quiet – want to come to Adoration?” This is how Jesus worked – His first encounter in John’s Gospel were with two men who followed Him from a distance. He asked them, “What are you looking for?” They asked Him where He was staying, and He responded with those powerful words, “Come and see.” It was an invitation to meet their deepest need by coming to see Him – so we hear the needs of modern men and women: need for love, meaning and purpose, acceptance, forgiveness – and invite them to meet Christ.

            But our invitation must also be supported by explanation. What would you say if you invited someone to pray the Rosary, but they responded, “Nah, you Catholics worship Mary. I don’t do that.” How would you respond? St. Peter tells us in his letter that we should always have a reason for the hope within us. Do you know your faith well enough to explain it to a nonbeliever? We need to! Study the Catechism, read good spiritual books or listen to Catholic podcasts, dive into the Bible. We need to be able to explain our Faith – we could say to our unbelieving friend, “As Catholics, we don’t worship Mary; rather, we honor her, since she was closest to Christ on earth, she is closest to Him in Heaven. Now will you pray the Rosary with me?”

            Prayer is good, and words are good, but this must also be supported by the power of our witness. Listen to the words of St. Charles Borromeo: “Be sure that you first preach by the way you live. If you do not, people will notice that you say one thing, but live otherwise, and your words will bring only cynical laughter and a derisive shake of the head.” But to be clear – just “being nice” is not witnessing to the truth of Jesus Christ. Witness is directly commensurate to what we’re willing to sacrifice for.

            Back in 2015, twenty Christian Egyptian construction workers were captured by Islamic radicals and brought to Libya. These terrorists wanted to make a statement that Christianity is powerless in the face of the weapons and force of Islam. They brought them to a beach and gave them a chance to give up their Christian faith, but each of the twenty refused to deny the Lord. So the captors beheaded them one-by-one…but there was a twenty-first person who had been kidnapped as well. It was a friend of the twenty, but he professed no particular religion. But upon seeing his friends die for this Jesus, he said to the terrorists, “Their God is my God now.” And he lost his life as well – evangelized by the silent witness of the twenty who died for Christ.

            Sacrifice is what sets believers apart from nonbelievers. I used to have a close friend named Lance, who was an atheist. He and his wife had adopted their niece and nephew out of a horrifically abusive situation. The two kids were pretty broken and psychologically wounded – they had major behavior problems and were in-and-out of psychiatric hospitals. One day I was hiking with Lance and I asked him, “As an atheist, what do you think is the meaning of life?” He said, “I think it’s to make the world a better place.” Hmm, okay. I can accept that. But later that day we were talking about the struggles he was having with his kids and I asked, “If you had to do it all over again and adopt those kids, with all of their challenges, would you do it?” He thought for a moment and said, “No, probably not. It’s been too hard.” I thought – what a perfect opportunity to “make the world a better place”, as he claimed – but because it cost him something, he wasn’t willing to do it, because he had no faith, no desire to imitate Christ.

            The only credible witness is sacrificial love. Ordinary kindnesses can be done by pagans and atheists; but making a sacrifice for the sake of God is something only possible with the grace of Jesus Christ. We see this in the Gospel – Jesus is the “Good Shepherd” Who is willing to lay down His life for the sheep. If Christ had not died for us, would we believe His teachings? Would we know of His love for us? Probably not. Likewise, if a Christian does not die daily to himself, the world will not see the truth of Christianity reflected in their lives.

            My friends, we should be filled with a zeal for souls to come to know the love of God and win Heaven, because the mission of the Church is our mission, too.

Divine Mercy Sunday 2026 -

 

Homily for Easter 2 – Divine Mercy Sunday

April 12, 2026

Struck to the Heart

 

            The word “mercy” comes from the Latin “misericordia”, which is two words: “miseri” (suffering) and “cordia” (heart). So mercy literally means “suffering of the heart”. We say that in English – someone’s suffering “struck me to the heart”.

            And as we look at the Crucified Lord, we see that He, too, was struck in the heart. One of His most prominent wounds is that penetration into His side – which, ironically, is both an act of mercy for Him and for us.

            In the middle ages, soldiers would often carry a very short, sharp dagger into battle called a “misericorde”. If an opponent on the battlefield fought courageously but was mortally wounded, a knight would draw his misericorde and put him out of his misery, quickly and relatively painlessly, in admiration for the opponent’s courageous fight. One quick blow to the heart from the misericorde, and the suffering would be ended.

            Thus, when the soldier pierced Jesus’ side on the Cross, he was not merely seeing if Jesus had actually died; he was also providing an act of mercy for a heroic warrior who fought to the death.

            And so when Jesus shows His open side to Thomas, He is saying, “Behold, I have fought for you! I have fought for your freedom, your salvation. Put your hand in the wound which purchased everlasting life.”

            Every time I drive down I-95 or the Route 25 Connector, my eyes are assailed by those obnoxious billboards for personal injury lawyers. All of them have a similar message: “Hire Bob Smith, he will fight for you!” There is something deep within our hearts that longs for an advocate, someone who will take blows and sufferings on our behalf, and who will overcome an enemy greater than we can handle on our own.

            So when Christ shows His wounds, He is showing that He is our advocate! He has fought the ancient foe of death and Satan, and overcome him. Sometimes boys will show each other their scars, each one coming with a story: “This is where I fell off my bike…here is where I tried the 360 and landed on the stick…this one I got when I got too close to the fire.” Scars are a story of a challenge that has been met, and conquered. So Christ shows His wounds to the Apostles to tell them, “The enemy has been met, and overcome.”

            What does this mean for us? Three things. First, realize that God is on your side! It amazes me how many Catholics think that life is a test and God is just waiting for us to slip up so He can send us to Hell. How can we believe that when we see the wounds He endured? Clearly, this God is madly in love for us and willing to do everything to bring us to Heaven. Never doubt that!

            Second, realize that our scars will become our glory. Even Jesus’ resurrected Body still has scars – but they no longer hurt Him. Rather, they are now a sign of everything He has overcome. Many of us are carrying a lot of scars – we’ve been abused, bullied, rejected, hurt. We are struggling with mental illness, or addiction, or loneliness, or shame from our past. Turning to Jesus doesn’t make these scars disappear; it just gives us the strength to overcome them. When we arise on the Last Day, made new in Christ, we will still have our scars – they are part of who we are – but they will become a sign of what God’s mercy has accomplished in us, and no longer cause us pain.

            Finally, Christ gives us an example to imitate – many of us are called to suffer on behalf of others. Many of you may have seen the famous Italian movie, “Life Is Beautiful.” It features a Jewish man and his son who are arrested and taken to a Nazi concentration camp. But the boy is too young to understand what is going on, and his father wants to protect his innocence, so he pretends that the whole thing is a game. The father suffers greatly to hide the son and to keep him from realizing the full horror of the camp. Spoiler alert – the father eventually gives his life to keep the guards from finding his son, and the son is able to be liberated and reunited with his mother.

            Many of us are called to similarly defend others to the point of sacrifice. Parents, for example, must heroically protect and defend their children, both physically and (more importantly) spiritually. Those in leadership positions in a company should not be seeking their own benefit, but primarily the benefit of those who work for them. Anyone with influence over others will have to fight a battle for their freedom.

            Too often, people want to take the easy way out instead of suffering the wounds and blows that leadership entails. I see that in parents who just give in and give their kids cell phones without any limitations because they don’t want to fight their teens. I see that in leaders in the Church who won’t “rock the boat” by ever making a tough call or preaching about a difficult topic. I see that in our government who will allow corruption to run rampant because it’s easier than having to root it out.

            But to be a leader is to fight on behalf of others, and when we fight, we get wounded! So if you are called to any leadership position, prepare yourself for the battle, get ready for the wounds, and look to your captain, Jesus Christ, Who has fought for us first.

            And think of the great things that such wounds can accomplish! According to Tradition, the man who speared Jesus’ Heart was a Roman soldier named Longinus. He had poor eyesight, but when the Blood and water that flowed from Christ’s pierced side happened to gush upon him, his eyes were instantly cured – and he came to believe that Jesus is Lord. He became a Christian and suffered martyrdom in Italy – he is now known as St. Longinus. Christ’s wounds became his mercy and his healing.

            Mercy is found in the suffering, wounded Heart of our Lord.

Easter 2026 - A Holy Madness

 

Easter Homily

April 5, 2026

A Holy Madness

 

            My uncle is one of those tin-foil hat UFO chasers from California. He fits all the stereotypes, believing that aliens could read his mind and that trees can speak to us. In fact, his Facebook bio says that he is a, quote, “Revolutionary/Shaman/Wizard/Spirit/Troublemaker.” But I must admit that I believe something even crazier than he has ever believed: that a man rose from the dead.

            Just think for a moment how crazy that sounds. If I were to tell you that I saw George Washington eating at Bill’s, you’d think I’d lost it. And yet, I’m here to claim that a man who was brutally executed is now completely alive, forever and ever. He walked again on this earth, ate and drank, His tomb is empty, His body is glorified in Heaven. And that now this Divine Man should be followed as Lord and God.

            Seems like foolishness, right? Imagine how the early disciples felt. When Mary Magdalene told the Apostles that she had seen the empty tomb, Peter did something completely undignified – he ran. This would be a very inappropriate action for a grown man to do – but he didn’t care. He needed to know the truth. When he encountered the Risen Lord, he was so convinced that he spent the remainder of his life sharing that good news with others. Imagine the response he got, as he preaches the Resurrection in the first reading – most people discounted Peter as a raving lunatic. But those with faith to hear recognized in Peter’s words the only hope that really mattered – Jesus Christ is risen, so our life and our eternity now belong to Him Who has conquered death.

            Paradoxically, the Resurrection is the most reasonable belief of all. We know that the tomb is empty (no reputable archeologist in history has ever claimed to have found the Body of Jesus), the Resurrected Christ was seen by over 500 people, and many of the eyewitnesses died as martyrs, proclaiming that Jesus is alive. So though the world thinks us crazy, it is reasonable to believe in the Resurrection. I’m willing to bet my life that He is Risen.

            The great thinker Blaise Pascal said that if you believe Jesus is Lord and you’re wrong, there is nothing to lose, but if you’re right, then you have everything to gain. Conversely, if we do not believe in Jesus and Jesus doesn’t exist, then nothing happens, but if we refuse to believe in Him and He does exist, then we lose everything. So the rational choice is to believe in Jesus Christ – we have nothing to lose and everything to gain!

            After all, what is real craziness: believing that Jesus Christ is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, or believing that money, success, or pleasure leads to happiness? What is crazier: to give your life to Christ in the hopes of an eternity with Him, or to give your life to this world which will pass away when we die? I’d rather give my life away to God than to possess this entire fallen world. St. Paul says the same thing in our Scriptures: our life is hidden with Christ in Heaven, so we must seek the things that are above.

            And boy, does that look crazy to the world. It was a cold winter’s day in Grenada, Spain in the 1500s when an itinerant preacher named Fr. John of Avila came into town. He stood on a small platform in the town square and began to tell the townspeople of the good news of Jesus Christ. Out of curiosity or boredom, a small crowd began to gather, then grow. When he got to the part about Jesus Christ having risen from the dead – and how our lives belong to Him and to eternity – a wealthy man in the crowd was so moved by this realization that he climbed the platform with the saint and began to throw his money out into the crowd. “I will no longer live for this world! God alone! God alone!” he cried out, publicly telling everyone his sins and crying for God’s mercy.

            Well, the authorities couldn’t let this crazy man continue to make a scene, so they quickly took him to the local mental asylum – but he continued to rave about how he repents of his sins and believes in God. A week passed with the man still overwhelmed with tears and bursts of laughter. So the doctors summoned the man responsible: Fr. John. He met with the formerly-wealthy man, now poor and disheveled, and they spoke for a while. Finally, Fr. John came out and said, “This man is not crazy. He just believes with his whole heart. We would do well to do the same.” They released the man, who used the remainder of his wealth to open a hospital and serve the poor in town. Both men became saints – St. John of Avila, the preacher; and St. John of God, the great servant of the poor.

            I pray that all of you may be filled with the same holy madness. Love makes us do things that the rest of the world considers crazy. Forgiving our enemies. Forgoing the sports game to worship Christ at Sunday Mass. Staying faithful to our spouse, loving our difficult parents. Hoping for a Heaven we cannot yet see. And the craziest one of all: living and dying for a Man who is risen from the dead.

            So, yes, the wisdom of Heaven may seem like foolishness to this world. The truth of the Resurrection seems like madness to scoffers. But I pray that this kind of holy madness overtakes us all. After all, it would be truly crazy to choose this passing world over eternity!

Holy Thursday 2026 - Sacrament of Humility and Charity

 

Homily for Holy Thursday 2026

April 2, 2026

Sacrament of Charity and Humility

 

            The Eucharist is often called the Sacrament of Charity, but it can also be called the Sacrament of Humility. Both of these virtues are on display on this night, in two different but complementary ways.

            First, we see both virtues in the washing of the feet. It says in the Gospel that Jesus “set aside” his garments and wrapped Himself in a towel – this is a symbol of the Incarnation: when the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity took off His Heavenly glory and instead took on human flesh, the vesture of a servant. But this humility was motivated by charity – He did all this out of love for us: a desire to be with us, not just during His thirty-three years on earth but ultimately His desire to be with us for eternity.

            But the Holy Eucharist is even more humility, even deeper charity. In giving Himself to us, He has made Himself vulnerable. God puts Himself at our mercy. The priest holds Him in his hands; we have the power to do whatever we want to God! What humility! He even accepts insults and blasphemies, being received by wicked souls in mortal sin, because His love keeps Him here in the Eucharist.

            Throughout centuries, there have been many instances of the Eucharist being mocked or trampled upon, and yet Our Lord endures these insults with patient humility. For example, back in the 11^th Century in Trani, Italy, there was an unbelieving woman whose friends kept urging her to go to church. One day, out of curiosity, she went to church with them, and came forward to receive Holy Communion, but instead of swallowing, she took the Host from her mouth and hid it in a handkerchief. When she arrived home, she wanted to prove to herself that it was just bread, so she placed the Eucharistic Host in a pan of hot oil on her stove, intending to fry it. Instantly, the Host started to bleed…and bleed copiously, so that the blood flowed over the pan and onto the floor. The woman was shocked and summoned the priest, who then took the Host back to the church where it has been kept until this day. Our Lord’s humility in allowing Himself to be treated in such a manner!

            But this humility, too, is motivated by charity. Charity isn’t just about doing good deeds; it’s a gift-of-self to the other. To give oneself as food means that this Divine Person burns with a desire to love us, to be constantly with us! What a radical, even crazy, act of love – to say, “I want to be consumed by you!” As St. Therese of Lisieux said, “Do you realize that Jesus is there in the tabernacle expressly for you – for you alone? He burns with the desire to come into your heart!” It is love that causes Him to humble Himself.

            And so, we see that these two virtues on display this night are also the calling of every Christian. St. Augustine once wrote, “If you should ask me what are the ways of God, I would tell you that the first is humility, the second is humility, and the third is humility.” One of the more beautiful friendships in history is that of St. Basil the Great and St. Gregory Nazianzen, two of the early Church fathers who were also roommates at school. Gregory recounts that despite the fact that they were both excellent students who tried to outdo each other with good grades, their greatest rivalry was that of humility – they constantly tried to praise each other and take the lowest place themselves, to see who could serve the other one more humbly. Gregory writes, “Our rivalry consisted, not in seeking the first place for oneself but in yielding it to the other, for we each looked on the other’s success as his own.” What a beautiful and holy rivalry, to excel in humility!

            But humility is not for its own sake but for the sake of charity. St. John Paul II said, “Man can only find himself in a sincere gift of himself.” In the late 1800s, there was a talented young woman in Ireland named Catherine McAuley, who found herself single, alone, and out of a job. A compassionate wealthy couple hired her to manage their estate, as a personal assistant – and they grew to love her as a daughter. When they passed away, the left a huge fortune to Catherine. She knew she wanted to use it for good, so she started to give it away…but she felt like something was lacking. She soon realized that God didn’t want her to give away the money – He wanted her to give away her life to Him. She gathered some women around her and founded the Sisters of Mercy, known as the “walking nuns” because they walked through the city taking care of the poor, destitute, sick, and orphans. It wasn’t enough for her to just do good deeds – charity demanded that she give of herself, in imitation of Christ, Who didn’t just do nice things for us – He gave us His very self.

            These two virtues are inseparable – it’s very easy to boast about our works of charity, so we need humility to realize that all the good we do is simply because of God’s goodness. And we need charity to motivate our humility – we are able to take the lowest place and assume the role of a servant precisely because we wish to make ourselves a gift to others, out of love.

            The washing of feet, the giving of the Eucharist. Both witness to the cornerstone virtues of the Christian life – humility and charity, which make us like Christ.

Palm Sunday 2026 - What Did I Do To Deserve This?

 

Homily for Palm Sunday 2026

March 29, 2026

What Did I Do To Deserve This?

 

            Have you ever said to God, “What did I do to deserve this?” Maybe we lose a job, or get a bad diagnosis, or lose someone close to us, and we are filled with indignation – I’m a good person! What did I do to deserve this?

            Yet there has been only one perfect person in history – Jesus Christ. And for His entire life He had laid aside His glory to suffer the humiliation of human weaknesses – growing hungry and thirsty, suffering the pain of rejection, experiencing all the trials of human life. And this week He comes to the greatest humiliation of all.

            First, He enters Jerusalem, not on a chariot, but on a donkey. He is betrayed by His friend Judas. He washes the feet of His disciples. All of His friends desert Him. He is whipped, beaten, scourged, crowned with thorns, nailed to a tree, and abandoned to die. He, and He alone, has the right to protest, “What did I do to deserve this?”

            But perhaps we would be right to say, “What did we do that He deserved this?” It was precisely because we are sinners that He had to hang upon the Cross. He the Innocent One; we the guilty. We had sinned; He took the punishment. We had spat upon God; with His last breath, He forgives.

            So perhaps it is best that we do say, “What did I do to deserve this?” Not in anger or indignation, but in wonder and awe and gratitude. What did I ever do to deserve this forgiveness? This mercy? This depths of God’s love?

            Nothing. I could never deserve the death of God on the Cross. And that’s the whole point. It’s not about deserving. It’s a free gift of love.

Lent 5 - Jesus Wept

 

Homily for Lent 5

March 22, 2026

Jesus Wept

 

            John 11:35 is the shortest verse in the entire Bible: “Jesus wept”. I have had a devotion to that verse since college, when our intramural basketball team was called “John 11:35” because Jesus wept at how bad we were (I believe we lost every game). But apart from that, contained within those two words are a glimpse into the Heart of God. Why did Jesus weep? Three reasons.

            First, He wept because He was truly human. Christian hope doesn’t always take away the pain of life. Sometimes we think that if we had more faith, then it wouldn’t hurt us so much when we lose someone we love. But Jesus Himself wept – showing us that our faith doesn’t take away grief, but gives us hope in the midst of it.

            After the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, perhaps one of the holiest families to have ever lived was that of St. Emelia. Her husband is a canonized saint, along with her mother-in-law, and five of her ten children! But tragically, one of her sons died at the young age of 27. Emelia was overwhelmed with grief and struggled to find peace in it all. She stopped eating and became a recluse in her own house. But her daughter, St. Macrina, sat her down and firmly said to her, “You must stop grieving like those who have no hope! We will see him again!” Although that did not take away the pain, it gave her the hope to carry on. So the fact that Jesus wept for the death of His friend teaches us that it’s okay to grieve, to hurt, to feel pain, and that we shouldn’t expect our faith to eliminate such things – but, rather, that we grieve and hurt with a God Who grieves with us.

            Second, He wept because of the lack of faith of those around Him. It says twice that Jesus was “perturbed in spirit”, but the literal translation of the Greek is that He “snorted in spirit” – a deep pain, not based merely on human grief, but because of unbelief – the Jews still said, “Couldn’t He have done something?” Yes, of course He could…and He will, if they believe. It was much easier for Jesus to raise a dead man (who doesn’t resist) than to implant faith in a soul (who resists mightily).

            We, too, should grieve at those who go through life without faith. Many years ago I was celebrating Mass at Trinity High School in Stamford. We had daily Mass there before school, although none of the students ever came, and only a couple faculty members. But the chapel had a glass rear wall, so I could see what was happening in the lobby as I celebrated Mass. I’ll never forget one day that it was Spirit Week, so the school provided donuts for the students on their way into school. That day, I held aloft the Eucharist, Jesus Christ, the Bread of Life, and could look beyond it to see the two hundred students who had gathered in the lobby to eat donuts…and was struck to the heart that the entire student body chose donuts over Jesus Christ. Four people were there worshipping Jesus; hundreds were enjoying donuts outside. I had never felt so acutely the lack of faith in that school until that moment – and it was viscerally painful moment.

            So let us console Jesus by grieving the lack of faith in our culture. Yes, we’ve seen a small revival here at St. Jude’s, but a March Gallup poll still shows that 24% of Americans claim no religion (35% under age 30), and 53% of all Americans say that religion is not very important in their lives. These are not statistics – they are souls, souls who have an eternal destiny, souls who are thirsting for the love that Jesus alone can give. As we grieve with Jesus over this lack of faith, we can console Him by bringing souls to Jesus – living for Him, inviting others to encounter Him at Mass and in prayer, and speaking of Him to everyone we meet.

            Finally, Jesus weeps because death is a consequence of sin – and He is grieved about that reality. Death was not part of God’s original plan – it entered as a painful remedy to the disorder that humanity caused due to original sin. I say “remedy” because it would be intolerable to live forever in this broken world. I can’t tell you how many elderly people I visit who ask me, “Father, why hasn’t the Lord taken me yet? I’m ready to go!” Death is our escape-hatch out of this battlefield called life, the release to a world where sin cannot touch us.

            Human beings are a unity of body and soul, so what happens to the soul is reflected in the body. Perhaps you’ve seen a person’s body-language show that they were unhappy, or maybe you’ve seen a peace and joy reflected in someone’s eyes. Likewise, the result of sin (which is spiritual death) is physical death – even St. Paul says this in Romans: “The wages of sin is death”. Hence, Jesus is grieved that death exists at all, since it is the natural consequence of sin.

            So then, the raising of Lazarus has profound spiritual implications. If Jesus can take away death which is the consequence of sin, we realize that He can take away sin itself – which is far worse than death. Last spring I went on retreat in New Hampshire and visited an Orthodox monastery for Vespers (Evening Prayer). It was a long service, and about a third of it was the monks chanting, “He has defeated death by death! He has defeated death by death!” This is the heart of the Christian message – death and the sin that leads to it will be defeated, once and for all, by Christ, the Savior of Mankind.

            In John’s Gospel, this is Jesus’ final miracle before His passion. In a sense, it is a foreshadowing of the Resurrection. Jesus has the power to conquer death once and for all, which He will do in two short weeks by walking out of His own tomb. And He promises that all who live and die united to Him through grace will be assured of their own Resurrection.

            So while Jesus may weep here on earth – and while we weep with Him, because of sin, death, and faithlessness - there will come a day when all tears are wiped away. There will be no more death or suffering, no more mourning or tears, when He Who has already conquered death returns again to bring us a life that will never end.

Forty Years I Endured That Generation

 

Forty Years I Endured That Generation

Fr. Joseph Gill

            I teach a Confirmation class of about 65 kids – eighth graders from the public school in a middle-class town in Connecticut. These kids are not from particularly devout families, and many of them were not churchgoers until it was mandated by our Confirmation program. But a few weeks ago as the lessons were drawing to a close, I asked if any of the teens would be interested in continuing to study their Faith after Confirmation, since the Sacrament isn’t graduation but the next step in a lifelong walk with Christ. I was unprepared for the response.

            Two-thirds of my class enthusiastically signed up. They said that they were hoping we could keep holding classes throughout their entire high school career! What a powerful outpouring of the Spirit – even before the Sacrament had been received!

            Much has been written about the renaissance of grace being experienced by youth and young adults in the Church. I have seen it in my own parish: our average age is trending down, led by parents with young kids and Gen-Z young adults, especially young men. Pixels and ink have been spilled about the cause of this revival: a search for truth in a relativistic culture; a hunger and an emptiness after being fed the pablum of our modern world; profound loneliness, especially among young men, and a desire to live for a cause bigger than oneself.

            All of these are true, and I’ve seen these existential issues manifest in my work with youth and young adults. But I’d like to add a theological reason for this revival of faith among the young: this outpouring of grace among the next generation is profoundly parallel to what God did – and promised – in the Old Testament.

            Picture this scene: the Israelites, after having been enslaved for approximately 450 years in Egypt, were finally liberated through the most remarkable signs and wonders that the world had ever seen. Ten vicious plagues upon their enemies, culminating in the death of the first-born…a giant ocean splitting in two, allowing them to walk through on dry ground…bread miraculously appearing from Heaven and water gushing from a cleft rock…seeing the tremendous mystery of God appearing in thunder and trumpet blast on Mount Sinai.

            But even with all of these miracles, did the Israelites believe? They were utterly faithless. Crafting a molten idol out of gold, appointing a leader to return to Egypt, grumbling against the Lord in the wilderness. Time and again, God forgave their faithlessness…until it became too much to bear.

            The decisive moment occurred at the edge of the Promised Land. It was only about a three-month journey from Egypt to the banks of the Jordan, and God told the Israelites that they could easily take the land – He would fight on behalf of His people. But the people refused. Their faithlessness had reached fever pitch, and despite the mind-blowing marvels they had seen, they refused to believe that God was with them, and made plans to return to Egypt.

            So in retribution, God swore that the entire populous would wander in the desert until the faithless generation died out. For forty years they wandered, until the faithless adults had perished, and the younger generation of children had grown up. Led by Joshua, they were ready to inherit the land and the promises.

            Can we not see a parallel to our situation in the Church? The time immediately before the Council could be considered a “golden age” of Catholicism. We had a future saint who won an Emmy with one of the most popular TV shows of the decade (Bl. Fulton Sheen’s “Life Is Worth Living”), seminaries were full, popular culture portrayed Catholicism in a favorable light (think of Bing Crosby’s “Bells of St. Mary’s”), and we had even elected a Catholic president – unthinkable merely a few decades prior. It was as if God had granted us exceptional and extraordinary graces to win the world for Christ.

            And this was precisely the intent, presumably, of the Second Vatican Council. Open wide the doors of Catholicism, that all might come in! This was our “Promised Land” moment – if we had kept faith with God and remained faithful to Scripture and Tradition, we would have experienced that new springtime in faith that John Paul II could only dream about.

            But just as a few faithless leaders corrupted all of Israel to turn away from the Lord, a few corrupt clergy turned the Church away from the authentic faith passed down from the Apostles. Not everywhere, mind you – but in many boots-on-the-ground parishes, we saw faithlessness in the vapid liturgies, heterodox preaching and teaching, the sexual abuse scandal simmering beneath the surface, wholesale rejection of moral theology, and a faith that had been gutted of its grandeur, truth, and challenge.

            So what did the Lord do? He withdrew His blessing until this generation could pass away. Those who came of age in the 1960s had forty years of influence in the Church – not all bad, but certainly it was a “desert” experience for many Catholics. Now, as that generation has ceded to a younger and more faithful one, God is once again leading us to the cusp of the Promised Land where a new outpouring of the Spirit may once again lead to full pews and vibrant saints.

            During the forty years in the desert, we had some great lights sustaining us: Pope John Paul II, Mother Angelica. The flourishing of the Franciscan University experiment. Cardinal Arinze, Mother Teresa. The rise of the Catholic homeschooling movement; the “underground” traditional liturgies we used to attend. These beautiful works of God kept the Barque of Peter afloat until God could do a new thing with a new generation. But these lights were few and far between in an otherwise-arid land. Now, He is ready to unleash a new torrent of grace on a new generation, since the ones who led us astray have puttered off into the sunset.

            Pastor Rick Warren once wrote, “Do not ask God to bless what you’re doing, ask God that you may do what He’s blessing.” And we see what He is blessing these days: traditional Masses, young people vibrant with the faith, religious orders who live their vows radically, schools that are faithful to the Magisterium. We must seize this opportunity by focusing our efforts where God is already blessing, and put our Church’s resources where the Holy Spirit is moving!

            This isn’t to say that we can write off the Boomer, Gen X, or Millennial generation. They are souls, too, who need the grace of God. But we shouldn’t allow the Catholic revival to be stymied by them, if their perspectives are still dwelling in the past. A few days ago a brother priest lamented that he couldn’t get people to come to his church – it was empty and mostly grey-haired, in a neighborhood that trended younger. I asked him about his Masses – was the preaching solid? How was the music? He admitted that his music director still played the same songs (unworthy of the name “hymns”) from the ‘70s and ‘80s, the Marty Haughen-St. Louis Jesuits fare, thinking they were “contemporary”. (No, fifty years ago is not contemporary). Ah, my brother priest, I see where your problem lies.

            God promised in the Psalms, “Forty years I endured that generation; I said, ‘They are a people who go astray, and they do not know My ways’ – so I promised in My anger, ‘They shall not enter into My rest.’”. He is now giving an outpouring of grace because the next generation is standing on the edge of the Promised Land. Will the Church respond? Not by using its resources to prop up dying schools which have only the mere semblance of Catholicism, empty parishes where the authentic Gospel has ceased to resonate, leaders who do more harm than good. No, we must see what God is blessing – souls, parishes, leaders, and schools that are faithful to all Christ has taught us - and make this the authentic expression of Catholicism. Then we will be the faithful generation whom He has made fit to inherit His gifts!