A Dog's Life - Lent 3 - March 23, 2025

 

Lent 3

March 23, 2025

A Dog’s Life

 

            This might be a strange thought, but don’t dogs just have the easiest life? They just lie around all day, eating food, chasing squirrels, never having to worry about paying bills or mothers-in-law. What a life. But at the same time, it’s kind of a meaningless life. We need something more than food and sleep and recreation to give us a reason to get out of bed in the morning. We intuitively know we were made for something more.

            Our Scriptures today give us two beautiful elements of the nobility of the human person. In the First Reading, we see God introducing Himself to Moses. Of all the creatures in the universe, human beings alone can have a relationship with God. This speaks a great deal about who we are – God finds us worthy of His friendship. We see this capacity written into the heart of every man and woman who ever lived – for example, every culture in human history has had some element of worship. A desire to know and love God is so deeply ingrained in who we are, and it is evidence of our noble calling.

            In my first assignment in Bethel, it was very popular for parishioners to attend a Walk-A-Thon for cancer research, where they would walk around the high school track for 24 hours to raise awareness and money. Every year, the pastor and I would go to celebrate Mass there, so our parishioners could attend. One year we got there early and attended a beautiful memorial service they were having – there were pictures projected on a screen from people who had survived cancer, and people brought up lit candles to symbolize loved ones lost while music played and speeches were given. At the end of it, my pastor turned to me and said, “See? Human beings yearn for ritual, because ritual gives us meaning.” Deeply written in the human heart is the desire for relationship with God.

            But Christianity takes it one step further. Other religions are man’s search for God, but Christianity is God’s search for man. It is God who takes the initiative with Moses, and God who takes on flesh in Jesus Christ. We find, not only the satisfaction of our heart’s desire, but ultimately our dignity and nobility in our worship of God. As it is often said, “A man never stands taller than when he kneels before God.”

            We see a second element of that dignity in the Gospel, as Jesus gives this parable of the fig tree. In Scripture, the fig tree is always an image of Israel, and the fruit that God expects is the fruit of holiness. Yes, God expects a Christian’s life to be one rich in good fruits – good deeds, virtues, souls led to Christ. But rather than seeing this as the demands of a taskmaster, God expects great things from us because He has entrusted us with powerful tools – the Holy Spirit, grace, the Sacraments, our Catholic Faith – and wants to see a return on His investment! He believes that, with His grace, we are capable of great holiness – what an honor that He expects so much from us!

            One of my favorite movies is “For Greater Glory”, which we watched in our youth group this past fall. It tells the true story of the Cristeros – an army of men from Mexico who rose up against their own government to fight for religious freedom after the Communist Mexican president began persecuting the Church. The Cristeros had been led by a rather unsuccessful general named General Vega, who lost many battles. But at a certain point, the central commanders hired a new general, General Gorostieta, to lead the rebellion. He began to win battles and win the fight for religious freedom. But at a particularly poignant scene in the movie, the successful general calls over General Vega, who is disheartened and fearful, and says to him, “Tomorrow we go into battle, and it will be very fierce and dangerous. And I’m entrusting its leadership to you. Can you handle it?” General Vega is surprised, honored – and rises to the occasion, winning a resounding victory.

            We, too, are in a vicious battle – a battle for souls, a battle for holiness. But God honors us by expecting great victories from us. He has already equipped us through the Sacraments, prayer, grace (as it says in Scripture, “God is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or imagine”) and now He honors us by expecting holiness, virtue, and souls led to Christ. As St. Therese of Lisieux said, “The greatest honor God can do a soul is not give it much; but to ask much of it.”

            It’s easy to live a dog’s life. But a dog will never know the nobility of having a relationship with God. Other than Lassie, no one expects a dog to do great and noble deeds, or to pray. But God expects both from us – a relationship with Him, which He Himself initiated; and good works and holiness, which He Himself equips. Let us not live like an animal or a thoughtless tree – let us live like the noble, dignified men and women that we are.

Glimpses of Heaven - Lent 2 - March 16, 2025

 

Homily for Lent 2

March 16, 2025

Glimpses of Heaven

 

            Seven years ago I led a father-son pilgrimage to Rome and Assisi. It was a wonderful trip but one highlight in particular stands out to me. We were in Assisi, and right after dinner I invited everyone to hike up to the fortress that stands on the hill behind the town. We all hiked up there, and when we got to the top, the view was breathtaking. It had just rained, so a rainbow stretched from one end of the sky to the other. The sun was sending brilliant rays from behind the clouds, and we could see for miles in every direction. The boys were playing around on the ruins of the fortress, laughing and joking, and the men (all friends in Christ) were having an uplifting and inspiring conversation about the love of God. For a brief moment I felt, “This is exactly what Heaven is going to be like – surrounded by loving family and friends, in breathtaking beauty, in love with God and filled with the Spirit.” It was, perhaps, the happiest moment of my life – a true glimpse into Heaven.

            Every now and then, God will give us a glimpse into Heaven. Maybe it’s the awe we feel at the birth of a child; maybe it’s a beautiful piece of music or art that stops us in our tracks. Maybe it’s the joy we experience in the presence of a dear friend; maybe it’s a subtle peace we feel in a quiet church. For Peter, James, and John it was the experience of seeing Jesus in all His glory. These are but tiny glimpses of our true homeland, where the joy and beauty are far beyond anything our human eyes can see on this earth.

            And so we pursue Heaven, even though we only see a glimpse, because we are confident of the One Who has promised it. Abraham has to do the same thing in our First Reading. Most people have the wrong mental image – when God tells Abraham to “count the stars, just so will your descendants be”, we think that Abraham is walking out on a clear night, looking up at the Milky Way and seeing billions of specks of light. But that is not what happened – notice in the reading, when he asks God how he will possess it, God instructs him to prepare a sacrifice – and then later on, it says, “When the sun was setting, a trance fell upon Abraham.” Which means that God took Abraham outside and challenged him to count the stars in the middle of the day! How many stars do you see at noon? Only one – the sun. But how many stars are out there? Trillions, even though we can’t see them. How many descendants did Abraham live to see? One – Isaac. But almost four billion people on the earth today consider Abraham to be their spiritual father – Jews, Christians, and Muslims. He only saw a glimpse of the promise, but believed the Promise-Maker.

            Likewise, although we only see glimpses of Heaven, we believe the Promise-Giver. Thankfully, through the visions of mystics, He has revealed what we are in store to experience. In fact, St. Faustina had a vision of Heaven, and she lists seven joys that we will experience there.

            First, the greatest joy is the vision of God. We call this the Beatific Vision; that is, the vision of perfect happiness. When we see God Who is Love, we will know perfectly that we are loved, infinitely and personally. When we see God, the object and purpose of our lives, our lives and everything in it will make total sense.

            A second joy is that it is eternal. Even when I stood atop the hill in Assisi, there was a twinge of sadness that this moment couldn’t last forever. But imagine that we have the confidence that this joy will never be taken away!

            A third joy is that of gratitude and relief. Imagine that you have been training for the Olympics for thirty years. Thirty years of grueling workouts, denying yourself donuts, getting up early to train, constantly pushing and sacrificing and suffering. Then imagine that you have one shot – just one shot – to run your race. All those thirty years comes down to sixty seconds of running. You run, giving it all you’ve got – and win the gold medal. Imagine that feeling when you stand on the podium, saying to yourself, “It was all worth it!” That is the feeling when we enter into Heaven – our whole lives, with all the tears and prayers and lamentations, have been all worth it because they have gained for us the crown of glory!

            A fourth joy is no more suffering. It says in Scripture that God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. Our bodies (which we will receive back at the end of time) will never know sickness or aches and pains. Our minds will never be troubled with unwanted thoughts, sadness, or fear. Our souls will never be tempted to sin. Our relationships will never be marred by division or misunderstanding, and we will never have to say goodbye to our friends again.

            A fifth joy is light. St. John tells us that “God is light; in Him there is no darkness.” Hell is darkness and stench; Heaven is beautiful, uplifting light.

            A sixth joy is the company of angels and saints. How amazing to be able to visit with St. Francis, or sit down with our Blessed Mother! We believe in the communion of saints, which means that we are united to fellow Christians on earth (the Church Militant, for we are still fighting the battle), our dearly departed loved ones (the Church Suffering, which is the souls in Purgatory), and those who have won the final victory (the Church Triumphant, which is the souls in Heaven). Death changes, but does not negate, the mystical union we have with the entire Body of Christ, whether on earth or in Purgatory or in Heaven. And if we have accepted Christ’s invitation to Heaven, then we too will be reunited with all of the other souls who have arrived before us.

            The final joy is hearing praises of God. Imagine hearing the stories of everyone in Heaven – the ways in which they cooperated with God’s grace, the incredible work that God has done in them and through them! Imagine hearing the songs of the angels as they sing, “Holy, Holy, Holy” to the thrice-holy God!

            God gives us glimpses of Heaven to stir our hearts to desire it, but only glimpses so that we realize we are strangers and pilgrims on this earth. After all, St. Paul tells us that “our citizenship is in Heaven.” If life were already perfect, we would have no desire to leave this world; but as it is, He gives us small glimpses of those Heavenly joys amidst this valley of tears, to stir up a burning desire for Him. But the good news is that, as a wise priest once told me, “Heaven is where God is being enjoyed” – so the more we desire God here, the more we taste the delights of Heaven here – so much so that, as St. Catherine of Siena said, “All the way to Heaven is Heaven!”

The Art of Saying "No" - March 9, 2025 - Lent 1

 

Homily for Lent 1

March 9, 2025

The Art of Saying “No”

 

            Jesus is able to overcome these three vicious temptations because He was strengthened through fasting. Wait – strengthened? Wouldn’t someone be weakened through fasting? Not at all – fasting and self-denial are the critical tools on the pathway to spiritual strength.

            Every society in history knew this. Consider the ancient warriors of Sparta, whose rigorous training is legendary. They were issued only one cloak, so that they would have to endure the cold winters shivering. Their food was meager, forcing them to be resourceful. They slept on the floor, practiced intense physical exercise, and lived a regimented life. Harsh? Definitely. But during the battle of Thermopylae, 300 Spartan soldiers were able to hold off 300,000 men for seven days, giving everyone in the city a chance to retreat, saving lives. Their discipline paid off! Even in our modern day, the rigorous training for the Marine Corps or Navy SEALS seems ruthless, but I am certainly glad that these noble men and women are defending our country.

            Sadly, Christians do not spiritually train through fasting nearly enough. Sorry to be blunt, but most American Catholics have grown spiritually weak and unable to resist serious temptation, because they have no idea how to deny themselves even a chocolate bar. So let’s discuss why we must fast, and how to do it.

            First, fasting brings about freedom. Remember the old Lays’ Potato Chip slogan? “Bet you can’t eat just one.” How often have we struggled to say no to that potato chip, that donut, that impure website, that word of gossip? We find ourselves trapped in slavery if we do not develop the strength to say “no” to ourselves. Most temptation is a battle between our flesh and our will – which one will have mastery? Our will is like a muscle – the more we exercise it, the stronger it becomes. So fasting – denying ourselves food or other pleasure – exercises our will, strengthening it, so that we can more easily deny ourselves a sinful pleasure. A man who can deny his flesh is a man who is not a slave to his flesh. Fasting leads to freedom.

            Second, fasting puts love into action. Once a man came to his priest halfway through Lent and said, “Father, I tried to give up dessert for Lent, but it was too hard, so I gave up.” The priest responded, “It wasn’t too hard – your love was too small.” Love is sacrifice – if we love someone, we want to give up things for them. So if we truly love God, we desire to make small sacrifices – and even big ones. One student in my Confirmation class asked me recently, “Fr. Joseph, is it bad that I have a desire to be a martyr?” I said, “No, it’s a very great blessing – because it means you have such a love for God that you want to give all for Him.”

            Third, fasting clears a space for God in our lives. Giving up our smartphone gives us time for prayer. Feeling the peck of hunger makes us realize that our true hunger is for God. We only have a limited amount of time, energy, attention, and money in our life – when we deny ourselves something, this frees up a space in our life to give to God.

            Fourth, fasting helps us identify with the poor. Most of the world still feels hunger every day – in solidarity with them, can we not experience the pinch of hunger for a bit? Most of the world does not have access to the luxuries we do – can we not give something up and pray for them? Fasting, then, is closely connected to almsgiving – the money we save from not getting the triple-shot venti latte can be given to a charity. After all, Tolstoy once said, “I am a participant in a crime if I have superfluous food and another has none.”

            Finally, fasting is obedience to Christ. Jesus Himself said, “Unless you deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me, you cannot be My disciple.” He was quite serious – daily self-denial is intrinsic to the life of a Christian. And, of course, He gave us the example of fasting in today’s Gospel. But it even goes further back than Christ. St. Basil recognized, “Fasting is as old as mankind. It was given as a law in paradise. The first commandment Adam received was do not eat.”

            But I can hear the objection in many of your hearts – doesn’t God want us to be happy? Why would He create such good pleasures if we weren’t supposed to enjoy them? Ah, fasting and self-denial is not about denying the goodness of the body, or saying pleasure is bad, any more than a diet is about denying the goodness of food. People diet because they are choosing a higher good (their health) over a lower good (this donut). They are choosing a long-term good over a short-term good. Likewise, fasting and self-denial is about choosing a higher good (God, eternal life) over a lesser good (pleasure).

            I can hear a second objection – we shouldn’t give up, we should take on – do something extra for God for Lent. Yes, that’s great, go for it – but don’t give up fasting. We should do all three (prayer, fasting, and almsgiving) and fasting is absolutely critical to growing in the spiritual life. So as you take on something positive this Lent, do not abandon the ancient practice of fasting – do both.

            So how do we fast? A wise priest once told me, “A sacrifice isn’t a sacrifice unless it hurts, unless it costs you something.” So, giving up spinach because you hate it is not a sacrifice! All you kids who want to give up homework for Lent – sorry, not a sacrifice. Choose something you love, and give it up because you love God more.

            I find it helpful to write down my fasting plans. It can also be helpful to be accountable to someone – your spouse, a friend – so they can ask how it’s going. You can fast from any pleasurable thing – smartphones, Youtube, unnecessary purchases, going out to eat, unholy music, or anything else. You could rise earlier to pray, or make it to Mass. But the traditional fast does involve food, and I can testify that a food-fast has the most spiritual power. Give up dessert, or drink nothing but water, or refrain from eating between meals, or skip a meal, or go vegan. Feel the pangs of hunger and unite them to Christ’s suffering on the Cross. However you choose to fast and deny yourself, we must practice them, in obedience to Christ and so that we train and discipline our bodies so that we can more easily resist temptation.

            I close with St. Augustine’s words about fasting: “Fasting cleanses the soul, raises the mind, subjects one’s flesh to the spirit, renders the heart contrite and humble, scatters the clouds of concupiscence, quenches the fire of lust, and kindles the true light of chastity.”

            If we learn to say “no” to ourselves, we will soon find it very easy to generously say “yes” to God.

Aspirin for a Heart Attack - Ash Wednesday Homily - March 5, 2025

 

Homily for Ash Wednesday

March 6, 2025

A New Heart

 

            A man went to his doctor with some pain in his chest. The doctor ran some tests, and then told the man, “I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that you need a new heart – open-heart surgery, the whole nine yards. If you keep your current heart, you will certainly die very soon. The good news is that we already have a donor, your insurance will cover the cost, and it will let you live until practically forever.”

            Anyone with a small modicum of common sense would say, “Yes! Let’s do the surgery!” But perhaps there would be some who say, “Wait – I kinda like my current heart, it’s not causing me too much pain, and it seems like a huge hassle to get the surgery and have to recover. Maybe later, not now, I’ve got too much going on.” We would all agree that such an attitude would be foolish!

            And yet, my friends, this should be the reason why we are here today – a new heart. If you’re just here for ashes, that’s like taking aspirin when you need a heart transplant – it might take away the pain for a bit, but it doesn’t address the fact that you’re dying. Ashes might make us feel all “religiousy” for a day, but it doesn’t take away the fact that you’re dying from your sins!

            But the good news is that we have a donor who will give you a new heart – Jesus Christ, Whose Sacred Heart burns away the impurities in ours. The cost is already covered – it was paid by the Precious Blood on the Cross. This new heart will allow us to live forever – an abundant like of grace and purpose here, and everlasting joy in Heaven.

            This means that we have to give up our old heart, our sinful habits, our disordered desires, our unhealthy relationships. It’s hard to do – and it’s the only thing that will save our lives. In Greek the word for “repentance” is metanoia, which literally means “turning-around”. Turning away from sin, turning to face the Lord’s presence.

            The biggest, and most fundamental turning that must occur is to stop living as if God doesn’t exist. Probably all of us would say that we believed in God – but then, practically, we live as if He has no impact on our day-to-day life. We make ourselves – our plans, our “truth”, our pleasures – the idol that we worship.

            Today, turn away from that idol and begin living like God not only exists but has loved you into existence, has a wonderful plan for your holiness, and has destined you for eternal life! Practically this means beginning a serious prayer life of at least 15 minutes daily; worshiping God every Sunday at Mass; coming to Confession at least once during Lent; and conforming your life to His teachings in the Scriptures and the Catholic Church.

            Ashes on your forehead are easy. They cost nothing. They may even make you feel good and pious for a day. But they are like aspirin when we need major heart surgery. The good news is that the new heart awaits you, given to you by Jesus Christ Who purchased it on the Cross. My friends, I beg you – stop living as if God does not exist. He exists and wants to be the central love of your life, the very reason why you live and breathe. Get rid of your dying, sin-laden heart, and allow Him to give you this new heart!

The Tongue of a Christian - Ordinary Time 8 - March 2, 2025

 

Ordinary Time 8

March 2, 2025

The Tongue of a Christian

 

            One of the more amazing miracles in our Catholic Church is the gift of incorruptibility. Several saints’ bodies have not decayed, centuries after their death, as a testament to their holiness. But sometimes, only a part of their bodies remain incorrupt, usually connected to an important element of their mission on earth. One such case is the tongue of St. Anthony of Padua, whose statue we have in the vestibule of the church.

            Anthony was a great preacher of the Catholic Faith – he was a Franciscan from Portugal who desperately desired to be a martyr in Morocco. But as he was sailing across the Mediterranean, a major storm blew them off course, and he landed in Italy, where he would stay for the remainder of his life. He was content to be a humble laborer in a Franciscan friary until one day when a large group of priests had gathered for a special Mass, and everyone thought that someone else was preaching! No one had prepared a homily. So they prevailed upon Anthony to preach, and preach he did! It was so eloquent, rich, profound – that for the rest of his life he would travel all around Italy, preaching and bringing many souls to Christ through his words. Because of that, his tongue alone is incorrupt – it can be seen in the Basilica of St. Anthony in Padua, Italy!

            Every Christian’s tongue should be holy, though, for as it says in the Book of Proverbs, “The power of life and death are in the tongue.” Our words can build up or tear down; they can give life, and take it away. Let’s look at what the tongue of a Christian ought to be like.

            First, the tongue of a Christian ought to be kind. Our words, if they must speak about another person, ought to reflect that person’s great dignity and the everlasting glory that awaits them. One time, a woman confessed the sin of gossip to St. Philip Neri. The saint told her, as a penance, to take a feather pillow up to a high tower and tear it open. She thought it was an odd penance, but she did it anyway. She then returned to the saint and reported that she had fulfilled the strange penance, but St. Philip Neri said, “Wonderful. Now go and collect all the feathers.” But she protested, “That’s impossible! They have flown all over the city by now.” The saint replied, “Exactly. And this is what happens when we spread gossip – we cannot collect up what we have spread about the town.” A Christian’s tongue ought to be kind – if we would not say it to their face, we ought not say it behind their back!

            Second, the tongue of a Christian ought to be pure. We should shun impure jokes, foul language, or inappropriate talk. One day, the young schoolboy St. Dominic Savio overheard an adult use some rather foul language, but since he was a boy, he couldn’t reproach him directly. Instead, he went up to the man and asked, “Excuse me, sir, could you tell me how to get to such-and-such street?” The man thought for a moment and replied, “No, son, I don’t know where that is, I’m sorry.” St. Dominic said, “Oh, that’s fine, but could you do me one other favor?” The man, now warming up to the precocious boy, said, “Of course, anything for you.” Dominic leaned in and whispered, “Would you not allow such foul language to come forth from your mouth?” The man was surprised, but agreed not to curse.

            In particular, many of us may struggle with the habit of taking God’s Name in vain. If that is the case, there is an easy solution – any time we slip and say, “Oh my God,” immediately say out loud, “Blessed be His Name.” Not only will it give God praise to make up for the wrong use of His Name, it will also be so embarrassing that we will drop the habit quickly!

            Third, the tongue of a Christian ought to be modest. The Book of Proverbs says, “When words are many, sin is inevitable, but he who restrains his lips is wise.” A Christian does not need to voice an opinion on everything, or fill every silence with words. Like most things in life, moderation is the key – one should speak when necessary, and when it’s not necessary, remain silent. It was said of St. Dominic Guzman that “he rarely spoke unless it was to God (in prayer) or about God (to his fellow men and women).” So, discretion in speech is a truly Christian trait!

            Fourth, the tongue of a Christian ought to be truthful, no matter what the cost. Jesus calls Satan is the “Father of Lies”, but by contrast, Christ is the Truth – so if Christ is in our minds and on our lips, then we too should speak the truth. I think of the example of St. Phocas, a martyr from Turkey in the fourth century. During one of the major persecutions of Christians, a band of soldiers was dispatched to find the holy layman Phocas and execute him. The soldiers came upon a house in the middle of the countryside and banged on the door, and Phocas answered it, but the soldiers did not know it was him. They asked him, “Do you know where Phocas is living?” Phocas knew he could lie and save his skin – but lies are unbecoming of a Christian. So Phocas told them, “Yes, I know him. He is not far from here. But it is late and you look tired – come have supper with me, and in the morning I will take you to him.” The soldiers accepted, had dinner with the man they had come to kill, and slept in his spare room. Meanwhile, at night, Phocas went to his garden and dug his own grave, and spent the rest of the night in prayer. When morning arrived, Phocas revealed himself to the soldiers and told them that he was the one whom they were sent to kill. But the soldiers hesitated – moved by his generosity, they said, “We will return to the Emperor and tell him that we did not find you.” But Phocas insisted, “I will not have you lie on my behalf. I am not afraid to die for Christ.” So, reluctantly, they fulfilled their mission – and St. Phocas became a martyr for telling the truth. So every Christian’s words ought to be full of grace and truth.

            Fifth, the tongue of a Christian ought to be self-controlled. St. James writes in Scripture that we put bits into the mouths of horses, so that through the mouth, we can control the whole body of the horse. Likewise, our tongues should be so self-controlled. I’ll be honest, I’m not great at this, and frequently I will walk away from a class or a meeting saying, “Ah, I probably shouldn’t have said that!” But I’ve begun praying a powerful prayer from the Psalms that says, “Set, O Lord, a guard over my mouth, keep watch at the door of my lips” – asking God to grant self-control to that most wild of horses, our tongues!

            Sixth, the tongue of a Christian should be pleasant. Aristotle speaks about a virtue called eutrapelia, which means being joyful, of good humor, pleasant. A Christian’s speech shouldn’t be pessimistic or a downer – after all, it is good news that we believe in! A sad saint is a bad saint – saints should be joyful, and it should reflect in their words. The saints themselves have been known to share pleasant jokes with one another – one time a reporter asked Pope St. John XXIII how many people work in the Vatican, and he replied, “Oh, about half of them.” Another time a woman came to Confession to St. John Vianney, and she was concerned that she cared too much about her appearance, so she asked him, “Is it vain of me to use blush on my cheeks?” The saint replied, “Well, some priests might think that using blush is a bit vain, while others see no problem in it.” But the woman persisted, “Yes, but what do you think?” He responded with a twinkle, “Why not take the middle road and just use blush on only one cheek?” A Christian’s words ought to be pleasing, joyful, uplifting.

            Finally, the tongue of a Christian ought to be filled with God’s praise. What will we be doing for eternity? Praising God! So let us learn to praise Him here, in our speech and conversation. Speak to others about what God is doing in your life. Ask others for prayers, and pray with others. When you’re alone in your car, pray out loud. Thank God publicly for all of His many blessings.

            My friends, a Christian’s tongue ought to be kind, pure, modest, truthful, self-controlled, pleasant, and full of God’s praise. My dear Christians, how is your tongue?

A Tree Beside Flowing Waters - February 16, 2025 - Ordinary Time 6

 

Ordinary Time 6

February 16, 2025

A Tree Planted Beside Running Water

 

            St. Joseph Cottolengo was an Italian priest from Turin who used to run free hospitals for the poor in the mid-1800s. Such a work of charity was not without its challenges, including being perpetually short on money. One day the cook from the hospital came to him with a small purse, containing a few coins. “Fr. Cottolengo, this is all the money we have – I cannot buy enough food for the patients to eat!”

            The priest dumped the coins into his outstretched palm. “Yes, this is indeed far too little.” With that, he threw the coins out the open window. To the shocked cook he replied, “Ah, have no fear. The money has been multiplied by our trust in God – it will bear fruit in a few hours!” Sure enough, before the end of the day, a woman came to see the saint and donated more than enough money to meet their needs.

            It’s amazing how unconcerned the saints were with material things, when we so often spend our days in frantic worry. The economy is rough; I just got a bad diagnosis; my child won’t talk to me; my dreams are down the tubes. How do we face these things with the courage and trust of the saints?

            Well, let me ask you a fundamental question: do you believe that God is in control of your life, or that you are? “Cursed be the man who trusts in human beings,” our first reading tells us. I am particularly moved by the image in that Jeremiah passage – imagine in your mind’s eye that tree, planted right next to the stream, with its roots drinking deeply from the living water. Imagine, now, that a dry dust storm starts rolling through the field – does the tree fear this dust storm? Of course not – it has its roots sunk deeply in the water. Does the tree fear the scorching sun, or a wildfire? Nope, it is deeply rooted in the life-saving water, so it has nothing to fear.

            We worry about things because we are not yet deeply rooted in Jesus Christ. Most of us are trying to do this “life” thing on our own efforts, by our own strength. It’s the American way, right? Just pull yourself up by your bootstraps, work hard, make something of yourself. But then why does life sometimes seem so doggone hard?

            You may have heard the saying that “God never gives you more than you can handle.” That is an absolute lie – God often give us more than we can handle, but He never gives us more than He can handle. The problem is that we’re trying to handle it all on our own!

            I was preparing for Mass one day in a former parish when the father of one of our youth group members came up to me, greatly distress. Through broken English he tried to tell me that his son Andrew was in the hospital. I was shocked – Andrew, a healthy high-school junior? I promised him I would visit. So later that day I went, and found that Andrew was in the psychiatric ward of Stamford hospital. I went into his room and said, “Andrew, what in the world happened to you?” And he told me this crazy story:

            He had been sitting around at the lunch table in his public high school, when he happened to (thoughtlessly) make a joke about a bomb. A teacher overheard and called the police, who arrested Andrew. Since his parents were illegal immigrants, they didn’t come to pick him up at the police station, so after determining he wasn’t a threat, the police sent him to the psych ward of Stamford hospital.

            Needless to say, he was freaking out about this. Here he was, totally normal, surrounded by other teens with severe mental illness – he said that the boy one room over screamed all day and night, and on the other side was a boy who was suicidal. He was terrified to be there, and even more terrified about the future – would he be able to get into college? Would this go on his permanent record? Would his girlfriend break up with him? Would his parents get deported because of what he said?

            Andrew said that as he was lying there, completely anxious about the future, the thought occurred to him: “God’s got this.” And he said that an unearthly peace settled over him from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. God’s got this. I thought that was the best definition of trust I had ever heard: God’s got this. And he was able to get out of the hospital a week later and his life has not been negatively affected.

            Really, if God’s got this, then who cares what happens to us? This is a lens through which we can read Jesus’ words in the Gospels: blessed are the poor? Hungry? Weeping? Hated? Well, if God’s got this, if He really is in control of our life and destiny, then who cares if we are poor, hungry, weeping, or hated – so long as we love God and are loved by Him? St. Ignatius of Loyola speaks about a “holy indifference” – we should be so rooted in God that all of those other things – wealth or poverty, abundance or hunger, sorrow or joy, praise or criticism – are unimportant. As Mother Teresa said, “If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are.” In other words, if you are deeply rooted in God – you find your identity in Him, you have surrendered your life to Him, you trust that He is truly in control of your life – then nothing will ever bother you. Poverty becomes a way to detach yourself from earthly goods and focus on heavenly ones. Suffering becomes a forge to fashion the deepest virtues in you. Sorrow will make us long for our true home. Being rejected helps us to remember that only God’s love is secure.

            Many of you know Fr. Walter Cizek, the American priest who spent 23 years in Russian prison camps. Five of those years were spent in solitary confinement in the infamous Lubyanka prison, confined to four white walls for years on end, only broken by periodic interrogations. It was enough to drive a man insane. But in that dark place, he began to become more deeply rooted in God. He began to pray the Mass from memory, recite as much of the Bible as he could remember, interceded for the world and for Russia, and spend his days in intimate union with God. At first, he desperately wished he could be somewhere else – “Oh, I could do so much more for God if I was a priest in active ministry!” – but over time he began to realize that he was exactly where he was meant to be – he could please God right there, in solitary confinement. He was fulfilling God’s will – and that brought him peace.

            He later wrote these lines about his time in prison: “What [God] wanted was for me to accept these situations as from his hands, to let go of the reins and place myself entirely at his disposal. He was asking of me an act of total trust, allowing for no interference or restless striving on my part, no reservations, no exceptions, no areas where I could set conditions or seem to hesitate. He was asking a complete gift of self, nothing held back.”

            Blessed is he who trusts in God with his entire life.

Fear of the Lord - February 9, 2025 (Ordinary Time 5)

Homily for Ordinary Time 5

February 9, 2025

Fear of the Lord

 

            St. Benedict and St. Scholastica were a brother-and-sister saintly duo. Scholastica was a cloistered nun (which is a nun who never leaves her convent), while St. Benedict had founded a monastery of monks. Once a year, these holy siblings would visit each other for supper and conversation. One time, the conversation was so enjoyable and stretched so late that Benedict, realizing he had to get back to his monastery, began to gather his belongings. But Scholastica begged her brother to stay, for the conversation was about holy things. Benedict refused, saying, “But dear sister, I simply cannot spend the night outside of the monastery. My monks need me.” So Scholastica folded her hands and bowed her head, clearly praying. Instantly, a thunderstorm struck up so severely that Benedict couldn’t venture past the door. He turned to his sister and demanded, “What have you done?” Scholastica answered, “I asked you and you would not listen, but I asked God and He did listen. Now, travel home – if you can!” Of course, he couldn’t, so they spent the rest of the night in uplifting prayer and conversation.

            Nature, such as that thunderstorm, has a way of humbling us. How many times have our plans been upended by inclement weather (like this weekend’s snowstorm)? Or maybe we had wanted to get together with friends but a microscopic virus laid us low. Truth is, we are not in control of our lives, God is – that both a freeing and a frightening reality.

            This realization that God is in control is a gift of the Holy Spirit known as “fear of the Lord.” Fear of the Lord is not about being afraid of God as if He were a tyrant; rather, it is respect and awe for who He is and His power, much like we respect our earthly parents. A good definition of “fear of the Lord” is the pithy quote, “There is a God – and I’m not Him!”

            Both Isaiah and Peter learned fear of the Lord in these readings today – Isaiah’s vision of God’s tremendous power made him realize that he was so far from holiness. Peter, too, when faced with this supernatural miracle, realized he was in the presence of a power far greater than his own limited fishing knowledge.

            It is absolutely critical that we foster fear of the Lord, because many cultural philosophies put the human person at the center of the universe, not God. One such philosophy is secular humanism, the belief that human beings can master the universe by their own efforts, talents, science, and technology – needing no room for God. I recently re-watched the fantastic movie “Interstellar”, which is set in a dystopian future where the earth is dying. Scientists have to desperately find a new planet for our species to live on. It’s an entertaining movie, but it left me with the uneasy message that we humans are on our own. We have to figure it all out ourselves – God is unconcerned with our fate, and has left us to our own devices. Secular humanism at its finest – we will come up with all the solutions necessary to save ourselves and the planet!

            But God has a way of upending such pride. For example, before the launch of the Titanic, the captain Edward Smith was asked about the new design and safety features of this giant cruise ship. Famously, he quipped, “Not even God could sink this ship.” And…we know the rest of the story. Fear of the Lord prevents such overconfidence in our own efforts.

            The other cultural philosophy that is so dangerous is relativism, the belief that we are the final arbiters of truth. The ancient Greek philosopher Protagoras famously said, “Man is the measure of all things,” while the less-ancient NBA player Dwayne Wade famously said, “Live your truth.” But of course, we cannot practically live that way. I would not want to drive across a bridge that was built by someone who believed that math and engineering are only an opinion! Gravity works, whether we like it or not, because it was a law written into the very fabric of creation by a Divine Lawgiver. Putting my hand on a hot stove will hurt and do damage, even if I don’t want it to. Just like there are unchanging natural laws independent of our own opinions, so there are unchanging moral and spiritual truths that exist whether we like them or not. Right and wrong were built into creation by our good God – and it’s up to us to humble ourselves and conform our lives to Him.

            If we do not humble ourselves before the Lord, then He will often do it for us, and that tends to be more difficult. One of our parishioners was telling me a remarkable story. He had been a total lukewarm Christian for most of his college and young-adult days, until one day when he was driving home on Route 84 and fell asleep at the wheel. He crashed, totaled the car…and escaped with only one tiny cut on his finger. He realized this accident, in which he should have died, was God saying, “You’ve got to choose – Me, or the world. You can no longer straddle the issue.” So Dan chose the Lord, and is one of the most on-fire Catholics I’ve met. But it took an intervention of God to break through to him.

            Fear of the Lord is not in competition with love of the Lord, though! In contrast, both fear and love are held in a creative tension. In theology, we talk about God’s transcendence and His immanence – this means that while God is far greater than anything we could ever conceive – the all-holy, eternal, infinite Creator – He is also intimately united to our lives and desires a close friendship with us. It is both-and – God must be worshipped, and also wants to be our friend.

            In fact, to love and serve him properly requires fear of the Lord. This is why Isaiah and Peter are able to embrace their new missions, with the proper and healthy respect for the majesty of God. Without fear of the Lord, God becomes nothing more than a permissive uncle, who winks at our indiscretions, rather than Lord of all creation to whom we must conform our lives.

            It says in Scripture that “Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” How true! Our relationship with the Lord must include awe and wonder – it makes me tremble when I consider that a few short minutes from now I will be holding the God of the universe in my hands. I beg for the Lord’s mercy on the day I will have to give an account of how I have shepherded souls to Heaven. Every human being ought to be in awe and trembling at the gift of life, this magnificent world, at grace, at the promise of Heaven.

            My friends, let us cultivate this awe and wonder towards the Lord. Consider how small we are, and the vastness of creation…consider the price paid for your salvation…consider the awesome dignity to which we are called, of being Temples of the Holy Spirit and children of the King of Kings. Truly, great is the Lord!