St. Jude Novena - By Grace Alone

 

Homily for Friday, October 27, 2023

St. Jude’s Novena

By Grace Alone

 

            St. John Bosco – whose relic is on display along with St. Jude up here – was a priest in Turin, Italy in the late 1800s who dedicated his life to young people, running a school for poor boys. Both he and his boys were known for their holiness…but every now and then there would be a student who was quite a character.

            Such was Michael Magone. When Don Bosco found the young lad, he was leading a gang of street boys…at the age of 13. All the boys, including the older ones, followed Michael, calling him “The General”. Don Bosco saw that he was a diamond-in-the-rough…he had tremendous leadership ability – if only he would use it for God! Bosco determined to invite him into his school.

            Michael accepted, mainly because it meant a roof over his head and food on the table. During his first few months at the school, he was in every way the troublemaker! He would get into fights, his language was salted with foul words, and he would complain and moan about going to the chapel for prayer. Every time he made trouble, he would be corrected, and he’d apologize and promise to do better. But his old street-habits seemed impossible to break.

            Finally one day it all snapped inside him. He was watching the other boys play sports, but as he looked at their happy faces, he realized – he didn’t belong here. He didn’t fit in. He was born a street rat, lived like a street rat, and would die a street rat. The sudden realization that he could never be as good, successful, well-behaved, or holy as them really struck Michael to the heart, and he struggled to hold back tears. He even said to a friend, “How can I find peace when I have a thousand devils in me!”

            Luckily St. John Bosco stepped in. He pulled Michael aside and said, “Michael, I have brought you here and given you food and clothing and safety for several months now. Would you do me a favor in repayment?”

            Michael agreed, grateful for all he had received from the priest.

            Bosco continued, “I notice that you haven’t made a good confession during your time here. Would you make a good Confession today?”

            The boy agreed – it was a last-ditch effort to try to find peace and happiness. He spent all day examining his conscience, and when evening came, poured out everything to Fr. Bosco. When he exited the Confessional, something deep had changed within him – there was a lightness, a radiance, a peace, and a joy that he had never experienced. In fact, that whole night, he couldn’t sleep because of his joy. Later on he told Fr. Bosco, “If only people knew the joy that comes with living in the state of grace!”

            He tried with his own efforts – but could do nothing until he invited Jesus to come in and take over his sinful, fallen brokenness – and Jesus made Michael Magone one of the holiest boys that St. John Bosco worked with, so holy that Fr. Bosco wrote Michael’s life story.

            Have you ever felt like St. Paul? “I do what I don’t want to do, and I don’t do what I want to do!” It can be frustrating because we know that it’s good to be humble, patient, kind, chaste, courageous…and so often we find ourselves the exact opposite!

            But that’s where the last line offers us so much hope: “Thanks be to God who has won the victory in the Lord Jesus Christ!” We are not meant to overcome sin and grow in holiness on our own efforts. Yes, we cooperate with God, but it is His grace alone that does it in us. His grace is often gradual, invisible – but sure, nonetheless. As long as we cooperate with that grace by avoiding temptations and frequenting the Sacraments and prayer, He can truly make us holy. You must believe that God desires your holiness – and that He can achieve it in us! As long as we want it too – really want it – He will make holiness spring forth in us.

            One final Michael Magone story – one time Fr. Bosco took all the boys out to a local field for games and sports. Halfway through the afternoon, Michael went missing. By this time he had gained a reputation for virtue, so when everyone returned home, Michael’s friends went straight to the chapel where they found him praying. His friend commented, “You’re so pious, you pray even when you don’t have to.”

            Michael responded, “You don’t need as much prayer as I do. I pray for strength not to fall back into my sinful habits.”

            He knew where the change came from – Jesus Christ. If you can’t change yourself, turn to Christ Who makes all things new – including you.

Ordinary Time 29 - Motley Crew

 

Homily for October 22, 2023

Twenty-Ninth Sunday of Ordinary Time – Special Mass for 70^th Anniversary of Diocese

Motley Crew

 

            Jesus came to earth, died to wipe away the sins of all of humanity, and then rose again to bring humanity to Heaven with Him. This message of hope and salvation was literally the most important message human beings have ever received…so who did Jesus choose to spread it? A communications expert? Someone skilled in logistics? The most courageous, holy, effective people He could find?

            Nope – He chose blue-collar workers. Fishermen. A public sinner like a tax collector. A man who doubted His resurrection, a man who denied him under pressure, and other men who ran away at the most critical moment. It was to this motley crew that He entrusted the monumental task of bringing the entire world to Heaven.

            Paradoxically, it is precisely the failings of the Church that prove its divine origin. As Catholic thinker Hillaire Belloc once said, “[The Church is] an institute run with such knavish imbecility that if it were not the work of God it would not last a fortnight.” The Catholic Church is not a social club, a charity, or even a community of faith. It is, rather, a divine institution. It was founded by Jesus Christ and animated by the Holy Spirit – and this is why I remain Catholic, even when its members are imperfect.

            Today we celebrate 70 years of the Diocese of Bridgeport. In those past 70 years, we have had some saints and some sinners – some tremendous blessings, and some big challenges. Even if we look around in this church today, we see a motley crew of saints and sinners, people with rock-solid faith and people who have one foot out the door. And we look a whole lot like that motley crew that Jesus assembled to live out and spread that Good News.

            At the end of the day, the imperfections of everyone in the Church – from Pope to priest to regular folks in the pew – can be a good thing because it forces us to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus Christ. I remain a Catholic because of Him – because He founded it, because it teaches His doctrine, because He is truly present in the Holy Eucharist.

            In fact, to be a Catholic is to belong to Him. St. Paul uses two beautiful images that bespeak of the Church: the Body of Christ and the Bride of Christ. We are the Body of Christ because we continue the life of Christ in the world today. In the powerful words of St. Theresa of Avila: “Christ has no body but yours, No hands, no feet on earth but yours, Yours are the eyes with which He looks with Compassion on this world, Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good, Yours are the hands, with which He blesses all the world.”

            The story is told of a Polish town in World War II that was badly damaged during the bombings. One of the bombs destroyed the Catholic Church at the center of town. When sorting through the rubble, the townspeople found the statue of Jesus which had been badly damaged. They asked a sculptor and artist to restore the statue, which he did, but the hands were so completely gone that he could do nothing with them. So the townspeople chose to display the damaged statue in the town square with the words underneath, “You are His Hands.”

            The Church is also the Bride of Christ. What does it mean to be the Bride of Christ? Like any good husband is loyal to his bride, so the Lord will never abandon us. He doesn’t take lightly to those who disrespect His Bride, as any man wouldn’t put up with insults on His wife. And the Lord, too, desires one-flesh union with us like a husband and wife have that union: our union is effected by receiving His Body in the Eucharist.

            But just as a bride looks more radiant on her wedding day than she does when she just rolls out of bed, so our Church is currently not looking as beautiful as she will. Our second reading from Revelation speaks of the glories of the purified Church descending from Heaven. We’re not there yet, but we’re on our way there – not because of us, but because of what Jesus is doing to sanctify His Bride.

            Have you ever wondered why, in the Creed we profess at every Mass, we don’t mention the Eucharist? That is because it was never doubted for the first thousand years of Christianity! However, around the year 1050 there was a French priest named Berengarius who was the first person to say, “The Eucharist is merely a symbol of God, not His true Body and Blood.” This led to a huge controversy in the Church about the Eucharist – what was It, really? A symbol, or the True Presence?

            About a century later, in a small Italian town of Bolsena, a priest was elevating the Eucharistic Host when all of a sudden a few drops of blood began to drip from the Host onto the corporal (the white cloth on the altar). Recognizing this as a miracle, the people spread the good news far and wide until Pope Urban IV heard about it. He investigated it personally, and, convinced that it was a true miracle, instituted the Feast of Corpus Christi, the feast which celebrates the Body and Blood of the Lord. Man had questioned the Truth – and God answered, bringing His Church to a deeper love and understanding of His greatness.

            So God has preserved the Church amidst many challenges. When the Church was tempted by wealth and riches, God raised up St. Francis as a witness of poverty. When the Church was threatened by the Protestant split, God raised up Catholic reforming saints like St. Charles Borromeo and St. Robert Bellarmine. When new worlds like America and Africa were opened up to Europe, God raised up St. Ignatius Loyola to found the Jesuits who would be missionaries to these far-off places. When the Church seems unrelatable to the youth of today, God has been raising up young saints like Bl. Carlo Acutis, who became holy in his fifteen years of life.    This gives me a great hope – the Church will always thrive, and “the gates of Hell will not prevail against it” – not because of anything we do or don’t do, but because it belongs to Jesus Christ Himself.

            Napoleon Bonaparte once taunted a Catholic cardinal by saying, “Your Eminence, do you not know that I have the power to destroy your Church?” The Cardinal responded, “Emperor, the clergy of the Catholic Church have been trying to destroy the Church for eighteen hundred years. We haven’t succeeded, and neither will you.” We’ve got that guarantee from Christ!

            So, be proud to be Catholic! Be proud to be a part of the Diocese of Bridgeport! God is still moving here, even in this motley crew assembled here in St. Jude’s Parish!

Ordinary Time 28 - Who Is Welcome?

 

Homily for October 15, 2023

Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Who Is Welcome?

 

            The Christian Roman emperor Theodosius had a large task on his hands. It wasn’t easy ruling the entire Roman Empire, stretching from Spain and England to north Africa. The Empire combined thousands of tribes and languages, and tensions were frequently high. So when the people of Thessalonica in Greece started to riot, Emperor Theodosius sent troops to quell the riot…but they ended up massacring the entire city.

            St. Ambrose, who was Theodosius’ bishop, wrote to him and told him that he needed to make a public display of penance for such an atrocity. The bishop refused to give the Emperor Holy Communion until he had atoned for this act. To his great credit, Theodosius did as he was told – he took off his royal robes, put on sackcloth and ashes, and walked barefoot to the cathedral in Milan where Ambrose met him at the door of the church – and refused him admittance. The Bishop told him that such an atrocity required more than a day’s penance. So every Sunday, the Emperor made the barefoot pilgrimage to stand outside of the church door, praying, until Christmas Day when the Bishop allowed him in and reconciled him to God.

            Was St. Ambrose being unwelcoming to the Emperor? No, he was waiting until the Emperor was ready to put on his “wedding garment” of repentance before entrance into the wedding feast. All are welcome in the Church, and all are called to repent.

            There are three groups of people in today’s Gospel. The first group is those who were invited but refused. Sadly we see that in today’s world – AP News last weekend ran an article about the “nones” (those who claim to have no religion), which now comprise about 30% of Americans, and 70% of “nones” were raised in a Christian household. These are the people who are invited into the abundant life of Christ through the Eucharist and the Sacraments, but who choose to abandon that, for a variety of reasons. I know that many “nones” say they still believe in God, but God has made it clear how to have a relationship with Him: through Jesus Christ. And Christ established the Catholic Church as His continuing work on earth, and the Eucharist as the most intimate encounter with Him. So to be a “none” is to eat from a dumpster while a wedding feast awaits – a person might become satiated but miss out on the abundant joy and life that God desires! I pray that none of us may become a “none”, and that those of our families who belong to no religion may experience the spiritual hunger that drives them into the arms of the Catholic Church.

            The second group of people are those who have accepted the invitation to the wedding. The very-imperfect Catholic writer James Joyce once said the definition of Catholicism is “here comes everybody.” It is indeed a motley crew that the Lord has assembled and invited to His feast – if you want a perfect Church, this isn’t the one for you – and what a blessing that is that the Catholic Church is messy, motley, imperfect. Let’s be honest, whose life isn’t messy, imperfect, crazy? As the Vatican II document Lumen Gentium states, “The Church is at the same time holy and always in need of being purified.” A good description of the members of the Church as well!

            Much ink (and pixels) has been spilled lately about making the Catholic Church a “welcoming” church. So who is welcome into the Church? Everybody! Every human being from every race, culture, and background is invited to come into the Church. No matter what you’re struggling with, no matter what you’ve done in the past, you are welcome here.

            But if one were to receive a wedding invitation, there are certain expectations: one must dress appropriately, one should bring a gift, etc. I know that my brother and sister-in-law don’t wear shoes in their house, so when they invite me over, I take my shoes off when entering. I wouldn’t go over someone’s house and light up a cigarette or rummage through their refrigerator. So while the invitation is offered to all, there is also an expectation for all. And our response to the invitation of Christ to come to His wedding feast is repentance.

            This brings us to the third group – or rather, person. The man who comes in without a wedding garment. This symbolizes the person who wants to be welcomed into the Church but refuses to give up their sin. The Church makes a distinction between sins of weakness and deliberate sins. All of us struggle daily with sins of weakness – a harsh word, an impure thought, laziness, telling a white lie. Those are struggles we do without thinking about it, based on the weakness of our nature.

            This is quite different from a deliberate sin. This is a sin that we purposely choose to enter into. Examples include purposely holding a grudge or planning revenge, living in an intimate relationship with someone without a Sacramental marriage or being closed off to life within marriage, intentionally choosing a sports game or recreation over Sunday Mass, cheating on our taxes, harboring racism in our thoughts, or other sins where our hearts purposely choose something against the commands of God. Many people in today’s world want to be welcomed into the Church while living in a state of sin, unwilling to repent. But Christ makes clear that all are welcome in the Church on His terms, not ours. To experience the joy of the banquet means to give up the counterfeit happiness of sin. Repentance is our ticket to the banquet!

            My friends, the question of who is welcome in the Church and its corollary who is welcome in Heaven is simple: everyone is invited, and everyone is called to put off the rags of their sin (through repentance) and embrace the wedding garment of holiness that Christ has already purchased for us. Let’s RSVP to that invitation quickly, for the banquet awaits!

Ordinary Time 27 - Custody of the Senses

 

Homily for October 8, 2023

Twenty-Seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time

Custody of the Senses

 

            It’s very clear that the fruit that God comes looking for from His vineyard is the fruit of holiness. He wants our lives to be holy, after He has nourished us with the Sacraments and graces and the teachings of our Faith. And there are lots of elements that go into a holy life – daily prayer, spiritual reading, discipline, growing in virtue, self-sacrifice. But today I want to talk about a little-discussed way to grow in holiness, which St. Paul speaks of in the second reading: keeping custody of your senses.

            St. Paul instructs us to “guard out hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” If you have a garden here in Monroe, you will most likely have to put a fence around it, because the deer are always ready to ruin a good harvest. Likewise, for our soul to produce a harvest of holiness, we have to guard it from the Evil One, who wants to ruin the crop.

            How do we do so? By guarding our five senses. The outside world enters into our minds (our thoughts) and our hearts (our desires) through our five senses. St. Paul says the same thing: “Whatever is good, holy, or pure, brothers, think of these things.” If good, uplifting, holy, inspiring things enter our eyes and ears, then our thoughts and desires will be filled with good and holy things, and it will be easy to become a saint. If violence, sex, blasphemy, coarseness enters our eyes and ears, then our heart and mind will be sullied.

            There was a commercial a few years ago – I don’t remember what it was for – that featured a man in a coffeeshop. He was typing on his laptop when he happened to look up and see, across the café, a young couple who were kissing passionately. He grimaced in horror and disgust, and then, embarrassed, he put his head down and kept working. The tagline of the commercial was, “You can’t unsee things.” That’s a pretty good reminder in the spiritual life – we can’t unsee things. So what we put into our senses matters greatly.

            After all, what we see or hear becomes our thoughts, and our thoughts become our words and actions, and these become our habits, and our habits become our character, and our character becomes our destiny. So, as Christians, we must practice custody of our senses. Someday our eyes will look upon the Face of Jesus and Mary – someday our ears will hear the choirs of angels. So we keep our senses preserved from the filth of sin, because they are meant to participate in the glories of Heaven!

            Any time I bring this up, though, people tell me, “Oh, but it doesn’t affect me. I can listen to filthy music or dirty comedians or watch violent or lewd movies and it doesn’t affect me.” Ah, but it does – because we should naturally be ashamed and shocked by sin, and if it we’re not bothered by it, it means we’ve become desensitized, and that is definitely not a good thing! Our consciences should naturally flee from evil, not become comfortable with it.

            One time, St. Dominic Savio, who became a saint while still a schoolboy in Italy, happened upon some of his classmates looking at a dirty magazine. Always clever, he said to his friends, “Hey, what are you guys looking at? Can I see it?” They were surprised that he was interested, so they handed over the magazine – and Dominic immediately tore it to shreds. But the boys protested, “What did you do that for?” He replied, “Because one glance is enough to stain your souls!” The boys replied, “Oh, but it’s not a big deal, it doesn’t affect us.” He replied, “This is even worse – you have grown used to looking at filth!”

            So – I challenge you to examine what music you listen to, what TV shows and movies you watch, what internet sites you visit. Would Christ enjoy listening to that music with you? Would He enjoy that movie, or would He play that video game with you? Maybe instead of reading People magazine, we can read the Lives of the Saints. Instead of watching a movie with a bad scene in it, we can watch an older movie which was entertaining but innocent.

            The Lord will someday come to your vineyard, the garden of your life. Will you be able to say that you have preserved the sweetest, ripest fruits of holiness for Him? Or have you let wild animals into your vineyard, to trample the fruits of innocence and holiness, leaving Him with nothing but spoiled fruit?

            St. Dominic Savio once said, “The senses are like doors to the soul, and it’s up to us if we wish to admit a devil or an angel.”

            Whatever is good, holy, and pure, think of these things – and holiness will be easy.

Ordinary Time 26 - Leave It All On The Field

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 26

October 1, 2023

Kenosis

 

            Paul wrote his letter to the Philippians from prison, and appropriately so, since it contains some of the most treasonous and seditious words ever penned: Christos Kurios, Jesus Christ is Lord. Why is this treason? Because Kurios – Lord – was the title given to Caesar alone. In fact, after his death, the Roman Senate declared Julius Caesar to be “Dominus et Deus” – Lord and god. Caligula, who lived during Paul’s early ministry, insisted on being worshipped as a god and called Kurios by all. So to proclaim that Jesus Christ, a humble carpenter who was brutally executed, was truly Kurios, truly Dominus et Deus, would be nothing short of treason.

            But how different was Christ’s Lordship than the Roman Emperors! The emperors were constantly grasping, clinging to power. It was said of one of the ancient Roman leaders that “it was safer to be his pig than his son” since he often put his own sons to death in a vain attempt to hold on to all the power himself. Caligula himself smothered his own uncle so he could be emperor, and then would murder anyone he merely suspected of disloyalty. It was a desperate grasp for power and glory.

            But Paul says that “though He was in the form of God, He did not consider equality with God something to be grasped at.” Instead, as Dominus et Deus – Lord and God – Jesus did something quite surprising – He emptied Himself, and took the form of a slave.

            There is a word in Greek that captures this perfectly – Kenosis. Kenosis means self-emptying, pouring-out, humbling oneself, abasing oneself to the lowest place. This is the radical mystery of the Incarnation – that God would leave behind all the glory, all the perfection of His Heavenly Throne, to purposely choose to subject Himself to pain and cold and rejection when it was completely avoidable. He emptied Himself freely – for us and for our salvation.

            We lose a sense of this in our comfortable, egalitarian society, but imagine for a moment that you were living back in the first century. A king could enjoy a warm castle, sufficient food, fine clothes and a nice bed, adoring crowds, security, and the ability to do whatever he wanted. Imagine, then, that this king desired to dwell among his peasants. This meant leaving behind the food, warmth, comfort, security, and walking out into a world where dirt and disease, filth and discomfort would be the everyday lot of the common people.

            Even consider the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem – we tend to romanticize it, but it was probably pretty rough. It smelled awful, like sweaty animals and dung. Jesus was likely shivering in the cold, and I don’t know if you’ve ever slept in straw, but it is profoundly uncomfortable and ridden with bugs and filth. They probably rarely had enough to eat, and the Holy Family – like all the poor in those days – knew hunger as their constant companion. They had to live in fear every day – fear of being robbed, kidnapped, or murdered by roving bands of marauders. He left His heavenly throne…for that? And yet He would go further, entering into the depths of utter abandonment upon the Cross, where He gave up His freedom to be nailed to a tree, He gave up his possessions as He was stripped of His garments, He gave up His self-respect as He was mocked and spat upon, He gave up even His very life as He breathed His last.

            As we declare in the Easter Vigil, “To ransom a slave, You gave away Your Son.” This Kenosis was for us, to lift us out of our spiritual poverty and welcomed us into the Heavenly Mansion prepared for those who love Him. It was a loving condescension, not just to make us feel better about being poor fallen human beings, but to lift us up so that we might participate in His Divine Life in everlasting joy!

            Okay, that is all very beautiful, but how does it apply to us? Two ways – first, we owe Him an incredible debt of thanksgiving for such Kenosis, such self-emptying. Our entire lives must really be about thanksgiving. Ultimately that’s why we celebrate the Eucharist – which means “thanksgiving” – to give worship and thanks for Christ’s total gift of self. Jesus’ earthly life was His descent into our misery; the Eucharist is our ascent to His glory.

            Second, He has given us an example to imitate. As John Paul II said, “Christ reveals man to himself” – He is the exemplar and archetype of the human race. Just as Christ’s life was one of not-grasping but pouring-out, so we must practice that same kind of kenosis for Him and for our neighbor.

            I am reminded of the beautiful example of the Catholic monks in Algeria, in the Monastery of Our Lady of Atlas. Built in the 1940s, this monastery began in rather hostile Muslim territory. But the monks soon won over the people by providing education, food, and medical care to the local peasant population. In 1996, civil war struck Algeria, and on several occasion the monks were threatened by radical Islamic terrorists. They were told to leave – and even the head of their religious community back in France urged them to travel to safety. And they debated back and forth about whether or not to abandon their mission, but in the end the monks knew that their lives were meant to be poured out as a living sacrifice for the poor Muslims of Algeria. Resolutely, they stayed and continued providing essential services to the poor.

            One night, the terrorists broke into the monastery and captured seven of the monks and marched them into the desert, where they gave them one last chance to recant their faith in God. But the monks knew they had poured out their lives for the people – now they had a chance to pour out their lives for God. They stayed steadfast in their Faith and were martyred. Pope Francis made them a “blessed” (one step away from sainthood) in 2018.

            In sports, coaches will often say, “Leave it all out on the field” – meaning, give 100% to every play. That, perhaps, is a modern adaptation of kenosis – pour oneself out for the mission. In our case, the mission is for Jesus Christ and for our sanctification and the sanctification of the world. Where are we not bringing 100% to that mission? Are we praying 100%, sacrificing 100%, doing whatever is necessary to avoid sin and practice virtue? If Christos Kurios, if Jesus Christ is Lord, then He is worth pouring it all out for, because the more we pour out for Him, the more He lifts us up to share in His everlasting glory.

Ordinary Time 24 - The Number of Forgiveness

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 24

September 17, 2023

The Number of Forgiveness

 

            Unless you know the Scriptures well you will miss the important reference that Jesus is making in the number of times we have to forgive. He says seventy-seven…okay, so is he just giving a cute exponential of Peter’s request? No – much more than that.

            Way back in Genesis, we have the story of Cain and Abel. We know the story – Cain, in his jealousy, kills his brother, and then is forced to wander the earth with a mark on his forehead. Cain despairs, saying that people will know who he is and what he did, and they will kill him for it. But God remarks that no, Cain will not die – and if anyone tries to kill Cain, God will avenge him sevenfold.

            Cain had many sons and grandsons, and one great-grandson was a particularly wicked man named Lamech. He said to his wives, “If anyone harms me, I will avenge him – not sevenfold, but seventy-seven times.” Instead of allowing God to mete out justice, Lamech takes it into his own hand – and does so much more harshly than even God’s justice.

            So when Jesus tells Peter to forgive seventy-seven times, the Lord is referencing the story of Lamech and making an important point – it is not up to man to exact vengeance, like Lamech wanted to do. Rather, we forgive, because in the end it is God Who will judge justly and rightly, not us.

            But wait…there’s more. If you read a different translation of the Bible, Jesus doesn’t say “seventy-seven” times but “seven times seven times” – in other words, 490 times. The original Greek New Testament is actually very vague about which one is the accurate translation…and purposely so, because 490 is also hugely significant!

            Israel’s great sin in the Old Testament was idolatry. For centuries they worshipped the Canaanite god Ba’al and his female counterpart, Ashteroth. Even after God called them back to fidelity to the Covenant time and time again through prophets and chastisements, they still continued to stray. So to correct His wayward people and purge idolatry from their midst once and for all, God allowed them to be taken into exile in Babylon. They wanted to adopt the gods of the surrounding nations – so God allowed them to be taken into the surrounding nations to wake them up and make them realize that they were truly the Chosen People who are meant to have an exclusive relationship with the True God.

            And the exile in Babylon worked! The people cried out to God for mercy…but as the years dragged on, they wondered if they would ever make it back home. So the prophet Daniel asked the Lord for wisdom – when would this exile end? God spoke to Daniel and told him that seventy years would pass until they returned home…but the sin would not be purged until seventy times seven years. At that time, 490 years after the exile is over, God would send the Messiah to make reconciliation for sins – not just for the sins of Israel, but for the sins of the whole world. And, approximately 490 years later, Jesus was born.

            So when Jesus says we have to forgive seventy times seven, He’s referencing the prophesy of Daniel and saying that we have to forgive like God forgives, since God has had mercy on all of the sins of the world.

            And there’s the important point about today’s Gospel – and the whole of the Christian life – how much we have already been forgiven for. The entire purpose of Jesus’ life, ministry, death, and Resurrection was to forgive our sins and bring us into union with God. Modern-day Americans often don’t get this, in part because they think their sins aren’t a big deal. We’re generally don’t have drug dealers and gang members at St. Jude’s Church, true. But that doesn’t mean we’re blameless.

            In fact, God says through the prophet Isaiah that “all of our good deeds are like polluted rags.” It’s not so much what we do, but who we offend. Consider: if God is our all-holy Creator, the Lord of the Universe, the Maker and Lover of our souls, then in justice we owe Him our complete adoration, love, and obedience. Even small sins, small disobediences to His laws, violate what we owe Him as His creatures.

            One time St. Padre Pio was praying in the chapel late at night when he saw a Franciscan brother sweeping the church. He didn’t recognize the sweeping friar, so Padre Pio said, “Who are you? It’s late, you should be getting to bed.” The friar responded, “I used to be assigned to this monastery, and my task was to take care of the church. But I would frequently pass by the Tabernacle without genuflecting or any sign of reverence. For this reason, I am in Purgatory and I ask for your prayers.” With that, he vanished – and Padre Pio said Mass for that soul the following day, so that the soul could go to Heaven.

            God has a right to our complete love, adoration, and obedience. When we sin, we deprive Him of that right. When we sin – even small sins like gossip or gluttony or holding a grudge – we corrupt the Image of Christ that had been forged within our souls at Baptism. Jesus said in the Gospels that “we would have to give an account of every frivolous word that we have spoken.” So our sins have to be dealt with – but we could never repay the all-holy God with our paltry acts of repentance.

            So, we needed a Savior. We couldn’t pay back the debt we owed the Father – so Jesus paid it back on our behalf. We couldn’t offer God any act of perfect love, obedience, or worship – so Jesus offered, on the Cross, the perfect act of love, obedience, and worship, in the name of all of humanity. And as the Father accepted that perfect sacrifice, which reconciled God and humanity. We have already been judged and acquitted of our sins because Christ paid the penalty for them.

            When we consider the huge debt that we’ve been forgiven of, and how much it cost, then how can we withhold forgiveness from our neighbor? Jesus, the only Perfect One among all of history, could say, “Father, forgive them” to the men who were nailing His hands to the Cross – how could we not forgive our brothers and sisters who are doing far less to us? If you are struggling to forgive, I urge you to look at the Cross – you will see what price purchased your forgiveness – and it will help our hearts to realize that if He can forgive us for what we’ve done to Him, then we can forgive others for what they’ve done for us.

            In the 1300s a young Italian woman named Rita was forced into an arranged marriage with a Mafia boss, Paolo Mancini, from that region. Her mobster husband made many enemies, and their marriage was constantly tense as his family was locked in an unending feud with a rival mob family. Finally, one day, Paolo was murdered by rival mobsters, causing great grief to his family.

            But Rita, with heroic courage, publicly forgave the murderers at her husband’s funeral. Nevertheless, Rita’s two sons vowed to avenge their father’s death. Rita begged them to forgive, but they refused to listen. So Rita turned to the Lord and begged that Jesus would do anything necessary for them to avoid revenge. Just as the elder son was preparing to go off to exact revenge, he came down with a severe illness, which prevented him from leaving. The younger son, then, prepared to go…and he too was struck with severe illness. Both young men realized the error of their ways, and made good Confessions before they passed away from their illnesses. Rita, although saddened, was eternally grateful to the Lord for preserving her sons from revenge – and we know her as St. Rita of Cascia, whose mission to forgive cost a great deal, but brought peace to her entire family.

            If you struggle to forgive, look at the Cross. How could we remain unforgiving when He is the price of our forgiveness?

Ordinary Time 23 - Tolerance Is Not A Virtue

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 23

September 10, 2023

Tolerance Is Not A Virtue

 

            Twelve-year-old Raymond was making trouble again. His mother, frustrated at his bad behavior, threw up her hands and exclaimed, “Raymond! What is going to become of you!” For some reason, those words struck him to his heart, and he went immediately to the local church where, standing before the statue of the Blessed Mother, he said, “My Lady, what is going to become of me?”

            Immediately he had a vision of the Blessed Virgin, who held out two crowns: one white, and one red. The white one symbolized purity, and the red one symbolized martyrdom. She asked the boy, “Will you accept either of these crowns?” Raymond said that he would accept them both, and the vision ended. Raymond ended up turning his life around drastically, becoming a Franciscan priest and taking the religious name of Maximilian. We now know him better as St. Maximilian Kolbe, the Polish priest who gave his life for another man at Auschwitz.

            But if it weren’t for the word of reproach from his mother, the young boy Raymond may have headed down a completely different path. Sometimes a well-timed correction can save a life and save a soul.

            That’s not easy, though, in a world that believes in “live and let live”. Hey, you do you. Who am I to judge?, we ask. Our world holds up tolerance as the great secular goal – but tolerance is not a Christian virtue. Jesus teaches us that we do have a duty to care for the spiritual lives of others – there is a beautiful principle in Catholic teaching called solidarity – basically the idea that we are our brothers’ keeper, not only in their physical needs but also in their spiritual needs. This is why, in addition to the Seven Corporal Works of mercy – works such as feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, shelter the homeless – we also have Seven Spiritual Works of Mercy, such as praying for the living and the dead, counseling the doubtful, instructing the ignorant…and the very difficult one of admonish the sinner.

             If we were to see a car crash by the side of the road, I hope we would have the generosity of heart to stop and try to help the people who might be injured. We wouldn’t just pass by and say, “Well, it’s not my problem. They can do whatever they want.” Well, many people’s spiritual lives are car wrecks – they are living in sin and their eternal souls are in danger of being lost – can we just pass by without helping them?

            Now, of course, Christian correction is one of the hardest things to do well. If we see our brothers or sisters sinning, how can we offer a word of reproach with the merciful heart of Christ?

            First – we must discern if we are actually called to say something. We’re not called to correct everyone at every moment. Sometimes we’re not the right person to say something. Sometimes the fault is so small that we should overlook it for the time being. Sometimes we may want to help the person grow, but it isn’t the right time. So we have to listen to the Holy Spirit, who will put a burning desire on our heart if we are supposed to speak up.

            Second – we must discern why we want to correct another. Is it because we truly care about them, or because we want to feel superior to them? Is it because their fault is bothering us and so we want to be relieved of their annoying habit? We must make sure we are motivated by love for them and for their soul.

            Third – we ought to cover it all in humility and prayer. Our goal is to change a soul, not win an argument. So we pray that the Holy Spirit may give us the words to speak, and give them the ears and the heart to listen.

            Fourth – we must speak boldly and courageously, but also kindly and mercifully. Humor helps! A friend of mine talks about a “compliment sandwich” – start out by saying something kind about them, then slip in the correction, and close it with another compliment.

            Fifth – we must show them how Christ’s way leads to greater happiness. Every decision we make is because we think it will make us happy, but when we sin we are choosing a counterfeit happiness over a real happiness. We ought to point out how true happiness comes from following the Lord.

            Finally, never forget that even Jesus had people get angry with Him when Our Lord reproached them for their faults. So if it doesn’t go well, don’t be discouraged. We can’t be so concerned about our reputation – or even our relationship with the person – that we stay silent when we are called to speak.

            But with all those caveats, do not be afraid, because sometimes a correction is all someone needs to become a great saint. In the early days of the church there was a young, wealthy, attractive actress named Pelagia. She was the ancient version of a Hollywood star, complete with an entourage and the finest gold and jewelry. One day she was passing through the city, past the cathedral, all decked-out (and quite immodestly dressed), just as a meeting of bishops was concluding. All of the bishops looked away, as her clothing was rather revealing, except for the holy bishop Nonnus, who said, “I am delighted to see such a display!”

            The other bishops were horrified that the holy bishop would delight in such sensuality, but Nonnus continued, “Look how this woman cares far more for her body and for the things of this world than we care for our souls and for the things of eternity!”

            His fellow bishops were shamed, but Pelagia was struck to the heart by his words of reproach. The next Sunday, she secretly attended Bishop Nonnus’ Mass, where he preached about the vanity of this world and the delights of eternity. Once again she was cut to the heart, and asked Nonnus for baptism. She was baptized and changed completely – she freed her slaves, gave her riches to the poor, and began living a life of prayer and works of charity. She is now St. Pelagia – who became a saint because of the courage of a bishop to speak a difficult word to her.

            So do not be afraid. We are called to care for the spiritual well-being of our brothers and sisters, by praying for them, setting a good example, and at times, speaking a word to bring them closer to the Lord.