Homily for Easter 3 - May 1, 2022

 

Homily for Easter 3

May 1, 2022

Imitate What You Receive

 

            This has got to be confusing. It’s after Easter, so the Apostles know that Jesus has risen – but He keeps disappearing from their midst. After having been with someone every single day for the last three years – then having seen them literally rise from the dead – these poor Apostles must be so confused and wondering: what’s next? What’s our mission? What do we do now that Jesus has risen?

            Because the Holy Spirit has not yet come, they have no answers. So Peter goes back to the one thing he knows: fishing. Jesus appears on shore and performs the same miracle He did when He first met Peter – a miraculous catch of fish. Peter immediately realizes Who it is – and realizes how foolish it is to be fishing when the Lord of all creation stood on the seashore.

            And when he encounters Jesus, what does Jesus offer him? Breakfast! When Jesus reveals Himself, He does so in the context of food – a foreshadowing of the Eucharist.

            Our life can be confusing too. All of us are crazy-busy: school, work, kids’ soccer, chores, doctors’ appointments. And we may also wonder: What’s our mission? And if Jesus is risen, where is He in the midst of our seemingly ordinary life?

            Like in the Gospel, Jesus comes to us humbly – in a meal: the Eucharistic banquet at every Mass. We don’t need to look any farther than this altar to find where Jesus is and what the meaning of our life is. Jesus reveals Himself through food and instructs us to follow Him. But this Food is unique, because it is Jesus Himself - His true Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.

            St. John Vianney once said, “There is nothing so great as the Eucharist. If God had something more precious, He would have given it to us.” What could be more valuable than the True Presence of God? We may say, “Yes, but it looks like bread.” True – it does. But if Jesus says, “This is My Body” – and, as God, Jesus is unable to lie – then this must be His Body. After all, if God could create the entire material universe with nothing but a word (“Let there be light…let there be dry ground…let there be plants and animals”), can He not change bread into His Body with just a word? There are many things we believe without seeing them – I cannot see my mother’s love, but I trust that it is there. I can’t see my soul, but I believe I have one. Likewise, I cannot see Jesus’s Flesh and Blood in the Eucharist, but I know it is true because He said that it is, and He has the power to make it so.

            But receiving His truly Body and Blood is meant to have an effect in our lives. What kind of effect? Well, have you ever been to a dinner that had a ridiculous amount of silverware? When you have six forks and four spoons and three knives, it seems impossible to know what to do! So how do you get out of this embarrassing predicament? You watch the host, then you do as they do. When the host uses that tiny fork for the salad greens, so do you!

            In the same way, we must imitate the One who gives us Himself as food. Jesus excelled in every virtue – so must we. Jesus laid down His life for others – so must we. Jesus lived for God alone – so must we.

            Hence, Jesus’ conversation with Peter. Right after Jesus appears to Peter, Jesus asks him, “Do you love me?” And Peter responds that he does – so Jesus tells him, “Now you must imitate Me. You must feed My sheep, and you must lay down your life for Me.”

            The consequence of receiving Jesus is that we must become what we receive. We have that old saying, “You are what you eat” – and this is so true in the Eucharist! When I eat a hamburger, it becomes a part of me, but when I consume Jesus Christ in the Eucharist, I become more like Him! This is now your goal in life – to give your life to Jesus, and live your life in a way that pleases Him, in union with Him.

            A great example of this is a saint named Blessed Imelda Lambertini. As a baby, Imelda was abandoned on the steps of a convent of nuns, so she was raised by these nuns who loved her as their own daughter and brought her up in holiness. In those days (the early 1300s), it was customary to receive First Communion at age 14, but Imelda truly believed that Jesus was present in the Eucharist and desperately desired to receive Him. For years she would beg the nuns for permission to receive her first Communion, but they kept saying, “You’re too young! Not yet! Once you get older!”

            When she was eleven years old, she was praying during Mass one day, burning with a desire to receive Jesus. As the priest began distributing Communion, one of the Communion Hosts miraculously flew out of his hand, and began to hover right over the head of little Imelda. The priest realized that she was ready to receive Him, so she received her First Communion, and then returned to her pew with a brilliant smile on her face, kneeling down and praying to Jesus Who was now within her.

            The Mass finished, and everyone left the church and went about their daily business – chores, studies, lunch. A few hours passed, and the nuns realized that they hadn’t seen Imelda since Mass ended. They checked all around the convent, and finally found her in the chapel, still praying hours later with a smile on her face. They went up to rouse her – and found that she had died from pure joy. Jesus gave His life for her; and she gave her life to Him.

            My friends, Jesus isn’t hard to find – He is hidden here, beneath the appearance of the small Eucharistic Host – so small and hidden because He wants to live in the hidden depths of our poor, small souls. As He gave us His life to become our Food, let us give Him our lives, that we may become His saints.

Homily for Second Sunday of Easter - April 24, 2022

 

Homily for Easter 2

April 24, 2022

In His Will Is Our Peace

 

            Our world needs peace, doesn’t it? We’ve got war in Ukraine, violence in the Holy Land, division in our own country and on our own streets. Where is this peace that Jesus promised us?

            Pope Francis recently reminded people that “war begins in the heart before it ends up in the world.” If we wish to have a world at peace, it must begin with each individual soul at peace. But are you at peace? If I asked most people, I’d bet they’d say no. They might talk about conflict with their spouse or mother-in-law, troubles at work, health problems that keep us up at night worrying…where is this peace that Jesus comes to offer?

            Many of us would define peace as “having no troubles or conflict”. But is that what the Gospel shows us? The disciples are in a locked room, terrified and confused. Their best friend, the one they thought was the Messiah, had been brutally crucified three days ago, and they were afraid the authorities would want to kill them next. But then they found out the tomb was empty – what happened? Was the Body stolen? What was going on? They had all sorts of inner turmoil and external threats…and then Jesus shows up, and they rejoice. Nothing externally had changed, but now Jesus was present. So peace isn’t the absence of conflict…it is the presence of Jesus. When Christ comes, the problems become manageable because they encounter the One Who has conquered everything, even death itself.

            So if peace is the presence of Jesus even in the midst of our chaotic lives, how do we obtain that peace? Three insights.

            First, live in peace with God. Notice that Jesus’ very first gift when He returns is the forgiveness of sins – getting reconciled to God is the first step to inner peace. Just last week a mother sent me the picture of her son right after his first Confession, and he was absolutely beaming – a soul cleansed of sin is a soul at peace. Live as men and women of integrity – no double-lives, no hidden sins, but everything (even our struggles) brought before the Lord’s mercy in prayer and in Confession – and there will be great peace.

            Second, surrender to the will of God. The great Italian poet Dante, who wrote the Divine Comedy, had a beautiful line in his famous work: “In His will is our peace.” A lot of times our lack of peace comes because we don’t want to accept life’s challenges as part of God’s plan.

            I have told the story of St. Maximilian Kolbe, the Franciscan priest who sacrificed his life in Auschwitz to save another man’s life. When he and his Franciscan brothers were arrested and put into a train headed for the death camp, he famously said with a smile, “Courage, my sons. Don’t you see that we are leaving on a mission? They pay our fare in the bargain. What a piece of good luck! The thing to do now is to pray well in order to win as many souls as possible.” How could he be of good cheer when he was headed to his death? Because his life was so completely surrendered to the will of God that he could be at peace with whatever happened.

            We lack peace when we insist upon our own plan. We plan a day at the beach, but it rains – so we get angry and frustrated. We have an appointment to keep, but we run into a traffic jam, and our tempers flare. We want our kids to be quiet, but they keep jumping all around, so we lose patience. But what if we saw these inconveniences, setbacks, sufferings as part of God’s will and surrender to it instead, asking “Where is God in this? Where is He leading me? What is He trying to teach me?”

             There is a beautiful, powerful story told by Fr. Karl Goldmann, an Army chaplain during World War II who was imprisoned along with his brigade in a Prisoner-of-War camp. One of his fellow soldiers was a man who really wrestled with the faith – he would meet with Fr. Goldmann after hours and question him endlessly, searching for the truth. One day, the sad news came to the camp that this soldier’s hometown had been bombed heavily and his whole family, wife and kids, were found dead in the rubble. The soldier, upon hearing the news, went back to his barracks…but a few hours later, no one could find him. Everyone feared that he had killed himself in despair and sorrow. Fr. Goldmann joined in the search for the soldier – and much to his surprise, he found the man in the tent that had been serving as their makeshift chapel. He had flung himself on the altar and was gripping the crucifix as if his life depended on it. Fr. Goldmann compassionately approached the man and asked him if he could pray with him. The soldier responded, “Yes, Father. I need you to help me pray those words from the Our Father: Thy Will Be Done.” Together, they recited the Our Father for hours together, until the man could say those words with complete serenity of heart: “Thy Will Be Done.” He walked out of the chapel-tent with a sorrowful but peaceful heart – having surrendered everything to God.

            Finally, a third way to find peace is to extend mercy and compassion to others. Today is Divine Mercy Sunday, the day on which our Church honors Christ’s abundant mercy poured out for us on the Cross, as we see in the image behind us. Divine Mercy has three parts, as easy as A-B-C. A – Ask for God’s mercy. B – be merciful to others. C – completely trust in God’s mercy. That “B” part is essential. St. Paul writes in Romans 12, “As far as possible, live in peace with all men.” And one of Jesus’ Beatitudes is “Blessed are the Peacemakers”.

            There’s a wonderful story of St. Francis, who was so on-fire with love for Christ that he traveled to Egypt with a desire to convert the Muslim sultan there, who was in the middle of fighting the Crusades. As he approached the palace, the Islamic guards thought he was a crusader, so they beat him to a pulp and sent him away. The next day he came back, showing them that he had no weapon. But, suspicious, they beat him up again. A third time Francis came back, and was beaten again. Undaunted, he went a fourth time – and this time the guards were so curious about the fact that the holy man had forgiven their unjust beatings that they asked him what business he wanted with the Sultan. St. Francis simply told them that he wished to convey a message of peace. Surprised, the guards let him in, and the Sultan received him with kindness. Francis preached to him about Jesus, and although the Sultan didn’t convert, he was so impressed with the man’s peacefulness and evident love that he sent him away with many gifts and gave him safe passage back to Italy. The power of living at peace with all!

            Do you want peace? It is one of the gifts that Jesus gives His Apostles on this day. Interior peace means living our life reconciled to God in Confession, with no hidden sins; peace means accepting all things as part of God’s loving will; peace means seeking to love our neighbor, even our enemies. Once we have peace within our souls, we will have peace in our troubled world – not merely the absence of conflict, but the presence of Jesus, the Prince of Peace.

Homily for Holy Thursday - April 14, 2022

 

Homily for Holy Thursday

April 14, 2022

Self-Gift

 

            A few years ago, I had the privilege of leading a father-son pilgrimage to Rome. The youngest kid to come with us was a 13-year-old named Daniel, who is one of the most sincere followers of Jesus I’ve ever met. During the trip, Daniel came down with severe illness – migraines, throwing up, exhaustion, the whole nine yards. It was really rough. One afternoon he was feeling so lousy that he stayed back in our hotel with a chaperone while the rest of us went to say Mass over the tomb of St. Claire. Right after Mass, I wanted to hasten back to the hotel to check on Daniel, so I gathered up all of my Mass items – vestments, Mass kit, books for Mass – and the pile was bulging as I walked into the hotel.

            I came into the room and saw Daniel just lying on the couch, completely wiped out. I said to him, “My gosh, Daniel, how are you feeling?”

            He looked at me and said, “I feel terrible…do you need help carrying that?”

            Here was someone in his sickness, at his lowest point, not thinking of himself but thinking of others. And so it is with Jesus.

            There are times when it is enjoyable to do service. I’ve been on many service trips with teens where we paint houses and work in soup kitchens, and it’s really rewarding and fun to hang out with friends and serve others. But to serve others when it costs something – that is true self-giving love.

            Consider Jesus. He is an hour away from His arrest, on the eve of His torture and crucifixion – and He knows this. His mind must have been occupied with anxiety and fear. This would be the time when He would need comfort, when He should be looking to His Apostles for a kind word or for them to serve Him. The rest of us would be thinking about ourselves at this moment – but instead, He takes off his cloak and thinks only of His Apostles.

            Both of the events that this night celebrate have the same core: self-gift. We see His self-gift in His service, and we see His ultimate self-gift in giving His Body and Blood in the Eucharist. This is truly the Feast of Self-Gift.

            John Paul II often defined love as “self-gift”. It is giving of oneself when it costs, but in doing so, we find what we were made for. John Paul II once said, “Man can only find himself in a sincere gift of himself.” The entire point of Jesus’ earthly life was to give of Himself – in service, in the Eucharist, and ultimately on the Cross. The entire point of our earthly lives is to give of ourselves – to God in sacrifice, to others in service. And in laying down our lives, we find what life is truly all about.

            Jesus tells us that He did this act of service so that we would have an example to follow. So let us resolve to follow His example and give when it costs. Pray when it is difficult. Do chores around the home when we’d rather be on our phones. Smile at someone we’d rather not smile at. Don’t give the poor your surplus, but make a real sacrifice for them. Follow Christ no matter what the cost.

            Mother Teresa summed it up best when she said, “I have found the paradox: when we love until it hurts, there is no more hurt, only more love.”

Homily for Lent 5 - April 3, 2022

 

Homily for Fifth Sunday of Lent

April 3, 2022

Go and Sin No More

 

            Back in 2013, Pope Francis said five words that could potentially be the most quoted papal statement ever: “Who am I to judge?” I have had people quote that sentence to me over and over again, usually along the lines of, “Don’t tell me that my lifestyle is sinful! Who are you to judge?”

            But that’s not the context of Pope Francis’ statement. He was actually responding to a question from a reporter who asked him what he would do about a particular priest who had left the priesthood to pursue a life of sin, but who then repented and wanted to be admitted back to the priesthood. The Pope’s full quotation was: “If someone searches for the Lord and has good will, who am I to judge?”

            God is perfect justice and perfect mercy. Which one we will receive is dependent upon one thing and one thing only: repentance. For those who fall, make mistakes, but are sorry and seek Him, He runs to them, picks them up, and forgives and heals. But for those who deny their sin or refuse to change (like the Pharisees), they have closed themselves off from mercy and will face justice instead.

            Let’s look closer at this Gospel. The woman was caught “in the very act” of committing adultery. So how did the Pharisees catch her? Was it, perhaps, a trap? Was it one of the Pharisees who committed adultery with this woman? Regardless, she was certainly sorry!

            Now, in our Catholic understanding, there are two types of sorrow for sin (also called “contrition”). There is imperfect contrition, and perfect contrition. Imperfect contrition is when we’re sorry for sins because of the sin’s consequences – so we regret drinking too much because we’re suffering the effects of a hangover, or we’re sorry for driving recklessly because we got a speeding ticket. This woman may have only been sorry because she was facing a most severe consequence – death by stoning.

            But perfect contrition is sorrow for sin out of love for God. We’re sorry that we hurt the One we love; we’re sorry that we have broken the most important relationship in our lives: our friendship with the Lord. We should always aim to have perfect contrition – to be sorry because of how much we love Him. Yet imperfect contrition is enough to make a valid Confession, so if that’s all we can muster up, it’s still better than not being sorry at all!

            So the woman is thrown down before Jesus, and Jesus does a surprising thing. He bends down to write on the ground. What is He writing? St. Jerome says that He might be writing the sins of the Pharisees in the dirt. St. Augustine sees it as a fulfillment of a powerful prophesy in Jeremiah chapter 17:  O Lord, the hope of Israel, all who forsake thee shall be put to shame; those who turn away from thee shall be written in the earth, for they have forsaken the Lord. But consider this: if you write something in dust or sand, it can be wiped away easily. When we want something to be permanent, we say, “Inscribe that in stone!” So, Jesus writing the names or the sins of the Pharisees in the sand is a sign that He has the power to wipe away sins that easily…if only they would turn to Him in repentance. Just a quick brush of the hand, and the sins written in sand are cast away. Just a word from our Merciful Savior, and all of our sins are completely forgiven.

            The Pharisees, then, holding rocks that are a symbol of the hardness of their hearts, begin to walk away, leaving their rocks…but keeping their hard hearts. They are unwilling to acknowledge their need for a Savior, because they think they’re “good people”. Only one person in this scene recognizes that they need forgiveness – and for that reason, she is the only one who receives it.

            But this mercy that she receives does not mean she can go back to life-as-usual. The key to Jesus’ mercy is: “Go and sin no more.” Mercy does not mean that sin doesn’t matter. To see how much sin matters, look at the Cross. Jesus died because of sin. People suffer because of sin. Souls end up in Hell because of unrepentant sin. Sin matters – and it can be wiped away by Christ’s Precious Blood. Through His mercy, we become new creations – now we must live like new creations.

             A saint who learned and lived this deeply was St. Mary of Egypt. Born on a small farm along the Nile in the mid-300s, as a young girl she heard rumors of the bright lights and exciting life in the big city of Alexandria. Becoming bored with farm life, she ran away from home at the age of 12 to Alexandria. But after a couple of days in this bustling metropolis, she realized that it was very hard to make a living as a 12-year-old girl in a huge city, so she turned to the only thing she could do to keep from starving: she became a prostitute. For seventeen years she lived this sinful lifestyle, but she didn’t desire anything different. Rather, she enjoyed her work and indulged in every sinful desire that she could conceive of.

            One day she heard about a group organizing a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. She decided to go, not because of any religious fervor, but out of curiosity and the hopes that she could drum up some good business in a new city. She arrived in Jerusalem and began to visit the churches and holy sites, but when she tried to enter the Church of the Holy Sepulcher (the church which houses Jesus’ tomb and the site of the Crucifixion), she found that some invisible force prevented her from passing through the door. Again and again she tried, but it was as if an invisible hand stopped her from entering the holy site. She realized that this was because of her sinful life, and was immediately struck to the heart. Seeing a statue of Our Lady outside the church, she knelt down and begged the Lord for mercy, promising to change her life. With that, she tried one last time to enter the church…and this time she could pass through the doors. She stayed all day and night in the church, went to Confession, and departed a new woman entirely. She knew that she would be tempted to return to her former life if she went back to Alexandria, so she felt inspired by the Holy Spirit to flee to the desert and become a hermit, where she lived the rest of her days in prayer, penance, and poverty.

            This woman desperately needed mercy, and when she found it, she “went and sinned no more.” Christ’s mercy is available to all who call upon Him in Confession – He can wipe away our sins as easily as brushing away writing in the sand – and once our sins are forgiven, He instructs us to “go and sin no more.”

Homily for Lent 3 - March 20, 2022

 

Homily for Lent 3

March 20, 2022

Friendship with the Almighty

 

            What kind of a name is “I Am”? That’s an interesting way for God to introduce Himself – “Hello Moses, I am I Am.” What does it mean? Three things. First, it means that God is the only God. Moses was coming from Egypt, where dozens of gods competed for worship, and he’s wondering if this is just another one of the many gods. But the Lord says, “No, Moses…I Am” – the other gods are not. So God speaks of His uniqueness to Moses.

            Second, the name I Am means that He is the source of all existence in the universe. Everything that is, is because He is. You see, God is not just the greatest of all beings as if He were a mega-version of humans. Actually, Aquinas says that God is Being Itself – Pure Existence. Hence, the name “I Am”.

            It also means that He is outside of time. He’s not “I Was” or “I Will Be” – He is “I Am” – all time is present to Him. He was there at the creation of the universe; He is the same God when the universe dissolves into nothingness. So God is saying a whole lot by introducing Himself as “I Am” – He is the source of all existence, and all time exists in Him. These truths can make us tremble with fear before the greatness of God!

            But…He is also doing something else profound here. By introducing Himself to Moses, He is establishing an intimate relationship with Him. Think of it – what is the first thing we do when we want to get to know someone? We share our names. Moses wants to know who this “God” is, and God wants to be known, trusted, and loved. So He shares His Name.

            Both of these realities are true – God is way above us…and He wants to be our closest friend. He is the all-powerful, all-holy…and He wants to share our mundane lives and our worries. What a gift!

            Let’s apply this to our lives, here and now.

            Because God is holy, He desires us to be holy. That’s the whole point of the Gospel parable. Jesus speaks of this fig tree that doesn’t bear fruit. The fig tree is us – you and I – and the fruit that Christ looks for is holiness in our lives. He has planted the tree (gave us faith), watered it (given us graces), fertilized it (taught us)…but will He find holiness?

            A great definition of holiness comes from that recent Christian song…“Holiness is Christ in me.” Once during the 1800s, an unbeliever from Paris had heard about the reputation of St. John Vianney, who was serving as a parish priest in a small town in southern France. The unbeliever was curious if this man was as holy as everyone said he was, so he traveled down to meet with him and hear him preach. When he returned, his friends asked him, “What did you think? How was Fr. Vianney?” The man responded, “I have seen God in a man.” That’s holiness!

            And this holiness is the calling of every Christian, not just priests and nuns and grandmothers, who are always the holiest people we know. All of us are called to that holiness, living with Christ in us. But holiness is not something that we achieve on our own efforts…it’s the fruit of an intimate personal relationship with God. Let’s go back to that fig tree image – a tree grows because it is exposed to the sunlight (as God the Father is the source of all Light). It needs water to flourish – and Jesus calls Himself the Living Water. It needs air to breathe, and in Hebrew the same word is used for both “breath” and “Holy Spirit”. Only when the tree is surrounded by light, sun, and wind – the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, can it bear fruit. And what beautiful fruit it is: virtues, good works, and inner peace that comes from our friendship with Jesus.

            How do we develop this friendship with Jesus? Prayer. I’m not talking about “saying prayers” or pre-written prayers, although those are fine. But real, authentic prayer is a relationship where we invite Jesus into life. A woman was once in a laundromat with a friend. After putting her laundry in, she sat down next to the friend who was reading out of a notebook. “Whatcha reading?” she asked. The other woman said, “I’m not reading. I’m praying.” “Here? In a laundromat?” “Why not? God is here too.” The notebook was where she kept important Bible passages, lines from her favorite Christian songs, and prayer requests.

            I knew a woman who would pray a decade of the Rosary on the ski lift. I pray in the dentist’s chair…yeah, that’s some intense prayer time! St. John Bosco, when he would run out of time for his daily hour of prayer, would offer the Lord what he called “scraps of time” – a minute here, a minute there. A quick and beautiful way to pray is called “Aspirations” where we shoot a one-sentence prayer to Heaven like an arrow: My Jesus, Mercy. Lord, I love You. Mother Mary, be my guide. If we don’t know what to say in prayer, don’t say anything at all – just sit in silence. Read the Bible, which is how God speaks to us.

            This week, don’t just say prayers…and don’t just save it for two minutes before bedtime. Live a life of prayer. Speak to the Lord throughout the day, and carve out a significant amount of time to listen to Him through Scripture reading and silence. We have the privilege of having a living relationship with the Almighty Creator, the Great I Am – Who desires a friendship with you so that you become holy, like Him. Do you desire it as well? If so, will you take the time to pursue Him in prayer?

Homily for Lent 2 - March 13, 2022

 

Homily for Lent 2

March 13, 2022

Of Things Unseen

 

            Our first reading is such a great scene from the life of Abraham, but we often picture it wrongly. God promises him that he will be the father of countless nations and peoples, and takes him outside to demonstrate this promise. He tells him to look up to the sky and count the stars – and we picture Abraham coming out on a clear night, gazing at the Milky Way.

            But if we read further, we find that the Scripture says “as the sun was setting and it was growing dark.” So…God took Abraham out in the middle of the day! How many stars can you see in the middle of the day? Only one: the sun. But how many stars are out there, hidden and unseen? Billions and billions. In the same way, how many descendants did Abraham live to see? Only one: his son Isaac. But there are approximately five billion people on the earth today who consider Abraham to be their spiritual father: he is the spiritual father of Christians, Jews, and Muslims. He didn’t live to see it – but he trusted in God’s unseen promise.

            It can be hard to trust in things unseen. But isn’t that the core of our faith? God has promised us everlasting life after death for those who love Him – but the world offers us pleasures in the here-and-now. St. Paul talks about this tension in the second reading – he contrasts those whose “god is their stomach, their glory is their shame, and they live for earthly things” while, for believers in Christ, “our citizenship is in Heaven”. But isn’t it easier to pursue the pleasures right in front of us, versus holding out to wait for an unseen reward in Heaven?

In 1972, researchers at Stanford University performed a creative study on children to see how long they would wait for something unseen. They presented them with one marshmallow, and said that if they could wait for fifteen minutes without eating it, they would receive two marshmallows for their patience. They then followed those children through adolescence and young adulthood and found that those who had delayed eating the marshmallow actually did better on the SATs, had less behavior problems and addictions, and were more successful in life.

That’s a pretty good analogy of the spiritual life too. We can choose to have the quick pleasure: the five minutes of scrolling through Instagram instead of praying, the chocolate cake when we should be fasting, the unnecessary purchase on Amazon despite our resolution to give to the poor. But wouldn’t it be better to wait for the unseen reward? Heaven is far better than chocolate cake, Instagram, or stuff we can buy online!

Hence, this is the entire purpose of Lent. We deny ourselves earthly goods so that we can start to desire and hunger for heavenly goods. St. Augustine put it best when he said, “The entire life of a Christian is an exercise of holy desire.” When we feel the pinch of hunger from giving up candy, we realize that we have a real hunger for the delights of everlasting life. When our wallets are empty because we’ve given to the Church or the poor, we realize that true riches are meant to be found in God alone. When we spend our time in prayer, we realize that we hope to spend all eternity in the presence of God. Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving – the disciplines of Lent - detach us from this world so that we can thirst for a better world, the world to come.

I think of the beautiful example of a recent Italian saint, St. Gemma Galgani, who lived in the late 1800s. She was a devout but ordinary girl until one day one of the nuns in her school gave a talk about how beautiful it is to become a saint. The hearts of the children were stirred up and they all said that they wanted to become holy saints, too. The nun smiled at their innocence and decided to have them draw straws to see who would become a saint first. Gemma was surprised when she drew the longest straw – and remarked, “Yes! I will strive to be a saint!”

From that time on, she kept her eyes focused on Jesus. As a young girl she once said, “How dreary it is upon earth; how pleasant it is in Heaven!” She found great delight in prayer – as a young teen, she would pray the whole Rosary on her knees every night, and every day she practiced some self-denial by giving up candy, patiently enduring some suffering, or holding her tongue from an unkind word. As she continued to advance in holiness, she asked Jesus, “Help me to understand what You did for us on the Cross!”

God answered that prayer in a surprising way – by giving her a share in the Cross. First, her parents died in her mid-teens; because of this, the family was thrown into poverty. She began to suffer physical ailments like a painful scoliosis of the spine, losing her hearing, and migraine headaches. She saw all of this as a way of emptying herself of the world and choosing to live in union with Christ’s Passion. During this long period of physical suffering, one day she heard a voice saying, “This can all be over…if you will only listen to me, I shall free you from all your pains, cure you and make you happy.” She recognized this as the voice of the devil and rebuked him, saying, “My soul is more important than my body!” Her spiritual director recommended that she pray certain prayers to be healed, but she replied, “I want union with God more than this earthly life.”

With her heart firmly fixed upon heavenly union with God, the Lord gave her one more painful gift – the stigmata, which is the Wounds of Jesus Christ in the hands, feet, and side. Like many other saints, she received the mystical gift of suffering from Jesus’ wounds in their own bodies. It is excruciatingly painful – but she wanted to be so conformed to Christ that she willingly (and even joyfully!) suffered with Him. She died at the young age of 25, but by that time she was living her life, not for this passing world, but for the joys of Heaven.

We live for a promise unseen: eternal life with God. We don’t see it yet – but neither did Abraham. He trusted in God’s promise. And so do we if we live for Heaven.

Homily for Lent 1 - March 6, 2022

 

Homily for Lent 1

March 6, 2022

Temptations and How to Overcome Them

 

            The story goes that a man who was running a fruit stand at a market had to step away for a moment, so he put a note on his large basket of apples that read, “Do not take – God is watching.” Some cheeky fellow hand-wrote a note and put it on his basket of oranges that said, “Take all you want – God is watching the apples.”

            Temptation – it’s everywhere. Among our friends, at parties, on the internet, even within our own thoughts. But our Gospel gives us wisdom on what temptations to watch out for, and how to fight the battle so that Christ can win the victory in you.

            First, in our Catholic tradition, there are three “sources of temptation”. We receive temptation through the world, the flesh, and the devil. All three of these are present in the Gospel today; let’s look at them separately.

Jesus is tempted to turn stones into bread, satisfying the cravings of the flesh. So…why is that bad? He’s hungry, and there’s nothing wrong with eating when you’re hungry, right? The problem is that He is eating at the wrong time – He is supposed to be fasting. The flesh tempts us by wanting pleasure at the wrong time or in the wrong way. Eating isn’t bad – but eating too much becomes gluttony. Drinking alcohol isn’t bad – only getting drunk and abusing it. Sex is a good and beautiful gift from God – but becomes sinful when it is used outside of a marriage between a man and a woman, open to life. Sleep and rest are beautiful, but if we do them too much then we become lazy and neglect our daily duties. So when we say that the flesh is a source of temptation, we aren’t saying that the body or its desires are bad. But we need to respect God’s plan for how we enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.

If we find that we are tempted to seek pleasure in the wrong way and our flesh becomes a source of temptation, then the antidote is fasting. Giving up desserts or TV for Lent helps to deny and train the flesh so that it becomes disciplined. We want our bodies to more easily choose that which is truly good – and this requires self-denial. If we can deny ourselves a chocolate bar, we have strengthened our will to have mastery over our flesh, which makes it easier for us to deny ourselves that fourth beer or that immoral sexual temptation.

After the temptation of the flesh, Jesus is then presented with the power, the riches, and the glories of every Kingdom – the things of the world are in His grasp. Once again, is the world and its possessions and riches bad? Not at all – but they become a snare when we make them an end in themselves. Money, possessions, physical beauty, power – none of these things should become an end-goal in themselves. Rather, all of these things are given to us so that we can serve God, love others, and bring the world to Heaven.

So if the empty and passing things of the world are our biggest temptation, then the antidote is almsgiving – generosity to the poor. Giving money or items to the poor puts “the world” in its proper perspective – it makes us realize that our lives cannot revolve around possessions or power.

Finally, the devil tempts Jesus to throw Himself off the temple, telling Him to command God to rescue Him. This is the most insidious of all sources of temptation: a Satanic pride that says that we get to tell God what to do. We may say, “Oh, who would tell God what to do?” I can give you plenty of examples, but here are just a few that are very common.

I once knew a man who would always say that religion is just a crutch, that he didn’t need anyone to help him live his life – he was a self-made man, and would keep it that way. Other people do not pray daily because they believe they can figure out life on their own, they don’t need God.

Some people disagree with Church teaching on this or that – I remember a man saying to me in Confession, “Oh Father, I don’t think such-and-such is a sin.” I asked him where he got his information that this particular sin, which had always and everywhere been taught as immoral by the Church, was somehow now okay. He said, “Well, I just don’t think God has a problem with me doing that.” So, the fact that this action is clearly wrong from Scripture and has been taught as wrong for two thousand years was irrelevant to him…and he gets to decide it’s okay for him? That is a philosophical error called “moral relativism” – which stems from the pride that says, “I get to be the determiner of right and wrong; I get to tell God what He should approve of.”

So what is the antidote to this kind of pride? Prayer. Prayer recognizes that we aren’t in control. Authentic prayer isn’t, “God, You must bend to MY will and do what I want you to do,” but rather, “Lord, Your will be done. I humbly submit to Your loving, holy will.”

There we have it – the three sources of temptation: the world, the flesh, and the devilish pride. The antidotes are our Lenten disciplines: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. How did Jesus deal with these temptations? He didn’t entertain it but shut it down immediately; He used texts from Scripture to defeat Satan; He didn’t rely upon His own strength but the strength of His Father. We can use these techniques too, because all of us are tempted – even the saints.

St. Jerome had such a temper and was so tempted to raging fits of anger that he carried around a large rock and when he felt himself growing upset, he beat his chest with the rock to prevent him from raging! (A later Pope, passing by a painting of St. Jerome with the rock, commented that if it weren’t for the rock, he would never have become a saint!). St. Francis of Assisi was so tempted with lust that he threw himself into a thornbush to rid himself of the temptation. St. Theresa of Avila felt strong temptations to doubt her faith, so she pricked her finger and wrote out the Creed in her own blood. Even the great saints underwent temptations, and we will too until our final breath.

But with the strength of Christ, and with the weapons of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil will never overcome us. Christ has already won the victory – by our faith and humble trust in Him, He will win the victory in us, as well.